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hazelfoureyes · 3 months

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A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)

saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)

Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127

Minors DNI

When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.

The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.

So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.

Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.

But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.

When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.

Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.

You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.

The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.

Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”

He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”

“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.

“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.

Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.

“And?”

“What are you doing?”

“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”

You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.

“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.

“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.

You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.

“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.

“Huh? Do what?”

“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”

“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”

"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."

You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."

A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."

Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.

"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.

"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.

"Sir." He chided.

"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."

"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.

A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.

You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.

“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.

He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.

“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.

You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.

As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.

When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.

“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.

“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.

“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.

“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”

“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”

“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”

His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.

“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.

You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.

When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.

“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.

His tongue slowed.

“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.

Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.

So close.

“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.

You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.

Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.

Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.

With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.

You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.

“Yes, sir.”

*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out

༻Masterlist༺

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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Social Quitting

In “Social Quitting,” my latest Locus Magazine column, I advance a theory to explain the precipitous vibe shift in how many of us view the once-dominant social media platforms, Facebook and Twitter, and how it is that we have so quickly gone asking what we can do to get these services out of our lives to where we should go now that we’re all ready to leave them:

https://locusmag.com/2023/01/commentary-cory-doctorow-social-quitting/

The core of the argument revolves around surpluses — that is, the value that exists in the service. For a user, surpluses are things like “being able to converse with your friends” and “being able to plan activities with your friends.” For advertisers, surpluses are things like “being able to target ads based on the extraction and processing of private user data” and “being able to force users to look at ads before they can talk to one another.”

For the platforms, surpluses are things like, “Being able to force advertisers and business customers to monetize their offerings through the platform, blocking rivals like Onlyfans, Patreon, Netflix, Amazon, etc” and things like “Being able to charge more for ads” and “being able to clone your business customers’ products and then switch your users to the in-house version.”

Platforms control most of the surplus-allocating options. They can tune your feed so that it mostly consists of media and text from people you explicitly chose to follow, or so that it consists of ads, sponsored posts, or posts they think will “boost engagement” by sinking you into a dismal clickhole. They can made ads skippable or unskippable. They can block posts with links to rival sites to force their business customers to transact within their platform, so they can skim fat commissions every time money changes hands and so that they can glean market intelligence about which of their business customers’ products they should clone and displace.

But platforms can’t just allocate surpluses will-ye or nill-ye. No one would join a brand-new platform whose sales-pitch was, “No matter who you follow, we’ll show you other stuff; there will be lots of ads that you can’t skip; we will spy on you a lot.” Likewise, no one would sign up to advertise or sell services on a platform whose pitch was “Our ads are really expensive. Any business you transact has to go through us, and we’ll take all your profits in junk fees. This also lets us clone you and put you out of business.”

Instead, platforms have to carefully shift their surpluses around: first they have to lure in users, who will attract business customers, who will generate the fat cash surpluses that can be creamed off for the platforms’ investors. All of this has to be orchestrated to lock in each group, so that they won’t go elsewhere when the service is enshittified as it processes through its life-cycle.

This is where network effects and switching costs come into play. A service has “network effects” if it gets more valuable as users join it. You joined Twitter to talk to the people who were already using it, and then other people joined so they could talk to you.

“Switching costs” are what you have to give up when you leave a service: if a service is siloed — if it blocks interoperability with rivals — then quitting that service means giving up access to the people whom you left behind. This is the single most important difference between ActivityPub-based Fediverse services like Mastodon and the silos like Twitter and Facebook — you can quit a Fediverse server and set up somewhere else, and still maintain your follows and followers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/23/semipermeable-membranes/#free-as-in-puppies

In the absence of interoperability, network effects impose their own switching cost: the “collective action problem” of deciding when to leave and where to go. If you depend on the people you follow and who follow you — for emotional support, for your livelihood, for community — then the extreme difficulty of convincing everyone to leave at the same time and go somewhere else means that you can be enticed into staying on a service that you no longer enjoy. The platforms can shift the surpluses away from you, provided that doing so makes you less miserable than abandoning your friends or fans or customers would. This is the Fiddler On the Roof problem: everyone stays put in the shtetl even though the cossacks ride through on the reg and beat the shit out of them, because they can’t all agree on where to go if they leave:

https://doctorow.medium.com/how-to-leave-dying-social-media-platforms-9fc550fe5abf

So the first stage of the platform lifecycle is luring in users by allocating lots of surplus to them — making the service fun and great and satisfying to use. Few or no ads, little or no overt data-collection, feeds that emphasize the people you want to hear from, not the people willing to pay to reach you.

This continues until the service attains a critical mass: once it becomes impossible to, say, enroll your kid in a little-league baseball team without having a Facebook account, then Facebook can start shifting its surpluses to advertisers and other business-users of the platform, who will pay Facebook to interpose themselves in your use of the platform. You’ll hate it, but you won’t leave. Junior loves little-league.

Facebook can enshittify its user experience because the users are now locked in, holding each other hostage. If Facebook can use the courts and technological countermeasures to block interoperable services, it can increase its users’ switching costs, producing more opportunities for lucrative enshittification without the risk of losing the users that make Facebook valuable to advertisers. That’s why Facebook pioneered so many legal tactics for criminalizing interoperability:

https://www.eff.org/cases/facebook-v-power-ventures

This is the second phase of the toxic platform life-cycle: luring in business customers by shifting surpluses from users to advertisers, sellers, etc. This is the moment when the platforms offer cheap and easy monetization, low transaction fees, few barriers to off-platform monetization, etc. This is when, for example, a news organization can tease an article on its website with an off-platform link, luring users to click through and see the ads it controls.

Because Facebook has locked in its users through mutual hostage-taking, it can pollute their feeds with lots of these posts to news organizations’ sites, bumping down the messages from its users’ friends, and that means that Facebook can selectively tune how much traffic it gives to different kinds of business customers. If Facebook wants to lure in sports sites, it can cram those sites’ posts into millions of users’ feeds and send floods of traffic to sports outlets.

Outlets that don’t participate in Facebook lose out, and so they join Facebook, start shoveling their content into it, hiring SEO Kremlinologists to help them figure out how to please The Algorithm, in hopes of gaining a permanent, durable source of readers (and thus revenue) for their site.

But ironically, once a critical mass of sports sites are on Facebook, Facebook no longer needs to prioritize sports sites in its users’ feeds. Now that the sports sites all believe that a Facebook presence is a competitive necessity, they will hold each other hostage there, egging each other on to put more things on Facebook, even as the traffic dwindles.

Once sports sites have taken each other hostage, Facebook can claw back the surplus it allocated to them and use it to rope in another sector — health sites, casual games, employment seekers, financial advisors, etc etc. Each group is ensnared by a similar dynamic to the one that locks in the users.

But there is a difference between users’ surpluses and business’s surpluses. A user’s surplus is attention, and there is no such thing as an “attention economy.” You can’t use attention to pay for data-centers, or executive bonuses, or to lobby Congress. Attention is not a currency in the same way that cryptos are not currency — it is not a store of value, nor a unit of exchange, nor or a unit of account.

Turning attention into money requires the same tactics as turning crypto into money — you have to lure in people who have real, actual money and convince them to swap it for attention. With crypto, this involved paying Larry David, Matt Damon, Spike Lee and LeBron James to lie about crypto’s future in order to rope in suckers who would swap their perfectly cromulent “fiat” money for unspendable crypto tokens.

With platforms, you need to bring in business customers who get paid in actual cash and convince them to give you that cash in exchange for ethereal, fast-evaporating, inconstant, unmeasurable “attention.” This works like any Ponzi scheme (that is, it works like cryptos): you can use your shareholders’ cash to pay short-term returns to business customers, losing a little money as a convincer that brings in more trade.

That’s what Facebook did when it sent enormous amounts of traffic to a select few news-sites that fell for the pivot to video fraud, in order to convince their competitors to borrow billions of dollars to finance Facebook’s bid to compete with Youtube:

https://doctorow.medium.com/metaverse-means-pivot-to-video-adbe09319038

This convincer strategy is found in every con. If you go to the county fair, you’ll see some poor bastard walking around all day with a giant teddy bear that he “won” by throwing three balls into a peach-basket. The carny who operated that midway game let him win the teddy precisely so that he would walk around all day, advertising the game, which is rigged so that no one else wins the giant teddy-bear:

https://boingboing.net/2006/08/27/rigged-carny-game.html

Social media platforms can allocate giant teddy-bears to business-customers, and it can also withdraw them at will. Careful allocations mean that the platform can rope in a critical mass of business customers and then begin the final phase of its life-cycle: allocating surpluses to its shareholders.

We know what this looks like.

Rigged ad-markets:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

Understaffed content moderation departments:

https://www.dw.com/en/twitters-sacking-of-content-moderators-will-backfire-experts-warn/a-63778330

Knock-off products:

https://techcrunch.com/2021/12/08/twitter-is-the-latest-platform-to-test-a-tiktok-copycat-feature/

Nuking “trust and safety”:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/twitter-dissolves-trust-safety-council-2022-12-13/

Hiding posts that have links to rival services:

https://www.makeuseof.com/content-types-facebook-hides-why/

Or blocking posts that link to rival services:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/19/better-failure/#let-my-tweeters-go

Or worse, terminating accounts for linking to rival services:

https://blog.joinmastodon.org/2022/12/twitter-suspends-mastodon-account-prevents-sharing-links/

That is, once a platform has its users locked in, and has its business customers locked in, it can enshittify its service to the point of near uselessness without losing either, allocating all the useful surplus in the business to its shareholders.

But this strategy has a problem: users and business customers don’t like to be locked in! They will constantly try to find ways to de-enshittify your service and/or leave for greener pastures. And being at war with your users and business customers means that your reputation continuously declines, because every time a user or business customer figures out a way to claw back some surplus, you have to visibly, obviously enshittify your service wrestle it back.

Every time a service makes headlines for blocking an ad-blocker, or increasing its transaction fees, or screwing over its users or business customers in some other way, it makes the case that the price you pay for using the service is not worth the value it delivers.

In other words, the platforms try to establish an equilibrium where they only leave business customers and users with the absolute bare minimum needed to keep them on the service, and extract the rest for their shareholders. But this is a very brittle equilibrium, because the prices that platforms impose on their users and business customers can change very quickly, even if the platforms don’t do anything differently.

Users and business customers can revalue the privacy costs, or the risks of staying on the platform based on exogenous factors. Privacy scandals and other ruptures can make the cost you’ve been paying for years seem higher than you realized and no longer worth it.

This problem isn’t unique to social media platforms, either. It’s endemic to end-stage capitalism, where companies can go on for years paying their workers just barely enough to survive (or even less, expecting them to get public assistance and/or a side-hustle), and those workers can tolerate it, and tolerate it, and tolerate it — until one day, they stop.

The Great Resignation, Quiet Quitting, the mass desertions from the gig economy — they all prove the Stein’s Law: “Anything that can’t go on forever will eventually stop.”

Same for long, brittle supply-chains, where all the surplus has been squeezed out: concentrating all the microchip production in China and Taiwan, all the medical saline in Puerto Rico, all the shipping into three cartels… This strategy works well, and can be perfectly tuned with mathematical models that cut right to the joint, and they work and they work.

Until they stop. Until covid. Or war. Or wildfires. Or floods. Or interest rate hikes. Or revolution. All this stuff works great until you wake up and discover that the delicate balance between paying for guard labor and paying for a fair society has tilted, and now there’s a mob building a guillotine outside the gates of your luxury compound.

This is the force underpinning collapse: “slow at first, then all at once.” A steady erosion of the failsafes, flensing all the slack out of the system, extracting all the surpluses until there’s nothing left in the reservoir, no reason to stay.

It’s what caused the near-collapse of Barnes and Noble, and while there are plenty of ways to describe James Daunt’s successful turnaround, the most general characterization is, “He has reallocated the company’s surpluses to workers, readers, writers and publishers”:

https://tedgioia.substack.com/p/what-can-we-learn-from-barnes-and

A system can never truly stabilize. This is why utopias are nonsense: even if you design the most perfect society in which everything works brilliantly, it will still have to cope with war and meteors and pandemics and other factors beyond your control. A system can’t just work well, it has to fail well.

This is why I object so strenuously to people who characterize my 2017 novel Walkaway as a “dystopian novel.” Yes, the protagonists are eking out survival amidst a climate emergency and a failing state, but they aren’t giving up, they’re building something new:

https://locusmag.com/2017/06/bruce-sterling-reviews-cory-doctorow/

“Dystopia” isn’t when things go wrong. Assuming nothing will go wrong doesn’t make you an optimist, it makes you an asshole. A dangerous asshole. Assuming nothing will go wrong is why they didn’t put enough lifeboats on the Titanic. Dystopia isn’t where things go wrong. Dystopia is when things go wrong, and nothing can be done about it.

Anything that can’t go on forever will eventually stop. The social media barons who reeled users and business customers into a mutual hostage-taking were confident that their self-licking ice-cream cone — in which we all continued to energetically produce surpluses for them to harvest, because we couldn’t afford to leave — would last forever.

They were wrong. The important thing about the Fediverse isn’t that it’s noncommercial or decentralized — it’s that its design impedes surplus harvesting. The Fediverse is designed to keep switching costs as low as possible, by enshrining the Right Of Exit into the technical architecture of the system. The ability to leave a service without paying a price is the best defense we have against the scourge of enshittification.

(Thanks to Tim Harford for inspiring this column via an offhand remark in his kitchen a couple months ago!)

[Image ID: The Phillip Medhurst Picture Torah 397. The Israelites collect manna. Exodus cap 16 v 14. Luyken and son.]

#pluralistic #social media #post-twitter #post-facebook #switching costs #network effects #web theory #locus magazine #exodus #decentralization

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worldlxvlys · 5 months

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hey! so can u do like a short little story of Chris (he’s ur bf in the story!) and y/n has a attitude at a party and Chris teaches y/n a lesson in a smutty way and like use toys and vibrators on y/n and cuddles at the end? <3 IF U FEEL COMFORTABLE WRITING THIS STORY! <3 tysm!! 💓💓🫶🏻🫶🏻

Attitude

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: nsfw (if that makes you uncomfy pls don’t read) p in v, oral (female receiving), squirting, overstimulation

now i know i told y’all i don’t write, idk why y’all thought i was joking 😃 i tried tho so… enjoy <333

“Yeah we’re not fucking doing this. You’ve had an attitude all night long and i’m fucking sick of it” Chris says.

Suddenly, he grabs my arm and starts towards the stairs.

“Chris, where are we going?” I ask, obviously annoyed.

“I’m teaching you a fucking lesson”. Chris says as I follow him up the stairs.

I have no clue whose room this is but Chris seems to know as he goes behind the door and goes to pick up a small pink bag. Once he retrieves the bag, he slams the door shut and locks it.

“I don’t know where this little attitude came from, but I’m fucking sick of it” he growls.

He then pushes me up against the door and starts trailing kisses down my neck. Then, at an alarming speed, he pushes his lips onto mine. The kiss was hungry and rushed as his hands roamed my body. He squeezes my ass, causing me to gasp and he took the opportunity to explore my mouth with his tongue.

Then, pulling away, he brought the the pink bag back into view.

“I got a little surprise for you baby” Chris said as he pulled out two vibrators, one pink and the other purple.

“Just bought these baby, heard they’re pretty powerful. Guess we’re gonna find out” he whispered into my ear as he reached for the bottom of my dress.

“This ok baby?” he asked, looking for any sense of discomfort in my eyes.

“Always.” I answered with a smile.

He then pushed me onto the bed and pulled my dress up to my waist. He switched on the purple vibrator, putting it on the highest setting.

“Put this on your tits, do not move it.” he said as he passed it to me.

“Take it off and you’re not fucking cumming.” he growled.

Doing as he said, I placed the vibrator on my left nipple.

“Holy fuck Chris” he was right, it was really powerful.

He then started kissing up my thighs, closer and closer to where I needed him.

“Please don’t tease Chris” I whined.

“Hm maybe I would listen to you if you hadn’t acted like a little brat tonight” he said as he continued to leave teasing kisses around my heat.

Then, finally, he licked a stripe up my core.

“Jesus Christ” I moaned out as my hips involuntarily bucked up.

He then pushed them down, and proceeded to move his tongue through my folds relentlessly. He kept eating me out like his life depended on it.

“ FUCKKK CHRIS” the only sounds that could be heard were the slurping of Chris’s mouth on my wet pussy, the gentle hum of the vibrator on my nipple, and his name repeated over and over on my lips.

“Mmm. Taste so fucking good ma” Chris moaned into me, causing me to stumble over the edge.

Chris finally lifted his head up, my juices coating his face.

“Did that feel good ma?”

“Fuck yes Chris” I replied.

Then without warning, he shoved his fingers inside of me.

“C-Chris I can’t. Too sensitive” was all I could get out.

“Hm well brats don’t get to decide how many times they come, do they?” he asked.

“Gonna stretch you out baby, you gonna take me well like a good girl?”

I was so focused on his fingers filling my hole up so well, I couldn’t even answer.

Slap.

Chris hit my clit with the palm of my hand, making my hips jolt.

“Fucking answer me”

“Holy fuck Chris! Yes yes i’ll take you so well, gonna be your good girl” with that, he lined his cock up with my glistening hole.

“You know your safe word?”

“Yes Chris”

Suddenly, he started pounding into me at an ungodly pace.

“ FUCK FUCK FUCK CHRIS OH MY GOD”

“That’s right baby, let me hear you”

At this point, I had forgotten about the vibrator that had somehow ended up falling out of my hand.

Suddenly spotting it, he picked it up and switched it on.

“I told you not to move it didn’t I, princess?”

I couldn’t even respond at this point, the only thing coming out of my mouth was his name in choked out moans. As if his relentless pace wasn’t enough, he suddenly placed the vibrator directly onto my clit, causing me to cry out.

“OH M- CHRIS I CAN’T I CAN’T”

“Yes you can baby, lay there and fucking take it”

The pleasure was so intense, I started to tear up. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as an unfamiliar feeling came over me.

“CHRIS I THINK I’M G-”

“Cum for me baby, give it to me. Want my cock to be fucking drenched in your cum”

I let go, juices spilling onto the sheets and Chris’s lower half as he spilled his seed inside of me. Riding us through our highs, Chris started to slow his pace.

As Chris pulled out, I winced and watched our juices spill out of me.

“Holy fucking shit Chris that was amazing” I sighed as I flipped onto my back.

“Yeah yeah, don’t do that shit again though” he chuckled as he kissed my forehead.

“Eh, we’ll see.”

🌀🌀🌀🌀

y’all that was my first time actually writing a fic wtf… maybe i should just stick to texts and snaps fr

i really went for it huh😭

idk if this is good so uh… lmk

k bye <333

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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sleepybbie · 9 months

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LET’S EXCHANGE, SHALL WE? | blade x reader

summary: blade helps you finish your mission as a spy with him as your objective by giving you an exchange (he knows) you won’t refuse

assassin!blade x fem!spy!reader

note: f/n - fake name, first time posting smut >.< , porn with plot (it’s a long ride folks), reader calls him ren, (might) ooc blade T^T virginity loss, v*gin*l f*nger*ng, nipple teasing, with proofhead ! cunn*l*ngus, breast groping, hick*ys, hair pulling, it’s reader’s first time ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა blade is down bad for her °ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ° lots of praise <3 also teasing, he kinda bullies her :((, fluff at the end ;3 (this fic is based on the manga cinderella x assassin >w< i also imagined how hot assassin!blade is frfr ) hope u cuties enjoy!

a/n: this is my first time writing smut because i am mostly on the fluff side of writing ToT but thanks to some uhh advise from other writings, i hope this is written well :,> english isn’t my first language so forgive me if i had any mistakes here TwT

it was all nothing new. you knew that all too well.

here at the association of blue angels, it is necessary that every spy has their own change of paths that comes across their ways in order for them to fulfil their duties and gain secret information from their clients, whether they are deadly, from aristocratic families, from high positions, or popular idols, it is fundamental that their aim for their prime objective is done and filed back at the organization. no matter who their target was, it was an absolute must you return with new info regarding the end of the view.

it was all nothing new, of how your boss would pick you for every male target, quiet with predatory gaze for women that lurk next to their sides. pretty girls like you will easily win their attention, that’s why they see why you’re perfect to work as a spy at the blue angels. your looks are perfect for the eyes of others, the definition of an eye candy. you knew your job all too well. non-stop praises from your boss whenever you’d return with an info dragged along on your palm, your eyes naively scanning down on the office floor as you mutter out an ‘i’ve returned.’

with different personas you became, brand new names you required in your business; that is what it takes to be a spy in disguise. for you, all of that just to be used as a seducing tool. so much for the title you earned…with these priorities set on to you, you would be forced to fuck your targets afterwards. the organization you were apart of depended on you with these said goals, and that’s the problem they see…

because you were too sheepish to eventually have sex with your objectives, even when asked.

yes, you have the looks to charm them like a siren luring their victims. however you were…too unsophisticated. guileless innocence and purity of a shy teenager. the confidence of seduction is what you lack. no wonder some of your co-workers poke fun at you. the naive y/n, they would murmur to you. but, they had no choice as you were the best spy among your group who can catch the eyes of men in a blink of an eye. set aside your ingeniousness…

it wasn’t like you asked for these missions to be set to you, after all, ever since they noticed your lack of temptation for the people they assigned you to, you were given to more easier victims, someone you won’t have a hard time gaining info from, in easier words someone you would not have to sleep with to collect main enlightenment. this, sounded somewhat as an insult for you. yet, for them, they just think this was for your best to avoid pressure.

‘pressure my ass…i do spy work, not sex work..who do they think they are?’ were the thoughts circulating inside of your head once you were outside of your boss’ office. them seeing your body as the sheer instrument of your skills when out as an undercover, you hated it. you wished they’d return your assignments when your targets were tougher victims. now that you are known in the blue angels association as the girly spy whose looks can kill, there was never going back as your reputation swoons the other workers when the aim is a pervert.

not much long after, your boss had called you into his office to hand over a new mission; following your last successful expedition that had been completed. as your eyes gazed down on the paper he slid on his desk, you slowly read the details for your next objective.

an assassin. a dangerous one to be exact.

“they call him blade, his real name is currently unknown. he works for the stella hunters department, an association filled with menacing assassins, and he’s one of the deadliest among them. find all regarding information about this man, including his weaknesses, and don’t hesitate to swoop in all you can. i’ll be handing this commission over to you, y/n,” is what your boss said, lighting a cigarette whilst looking over the paper that you held on your hands. you couldn’t help but be overjoyed once you heard this responsibility was handed to you, who had been longing for a task like this for so long. you’ll show them, you’ll show how you’re not just the kind of spy who sleeps with their intent. with a smile, you wholeheartedly accepted this work.

so, you put up a new persona, new name, and you were all set. this should be easy, with your looks there may be a chance this person will be beneath your thumb.

oh how right they were when they call you naive y/n..

blade was…scary. though, you managed to make him fall for you after months of trying. and there was this tiny gut feeling inside of you that was saying you were slowly falling for him, too. he was good-looking, fucking handsome. he’s got the stealth of a ninja, as if his presence wasn’t even there at the first place. so far, he is able to startle you whenever. the sword that he swings in his hands were swift, fast, and silent—often drools with the copper scent of velvet liquid. you pretended not to notice since he told you he worked as a bodyguard. the fake name you gave to him, he addresses you as f/n. you think it was convincing enough, after all, you ‘dated’ him for over 3 months now, that was a record. you didn’t quite understand why blade fell for you, in honest speaking; all you knew is that he suddenly asked you out when you both were at a fancy cafe shop he dragged you along with. his red eyes lured you, instead, and that made your heart jump.

surprisingly, blade was quite affectionate. despite being cold to your for the past months, he soon began to open up to you more with his loving antics. ‘cause of that, you were slowly getting weak over his words like some damsel. well, 3 months of dating can end up to something like this happening, although that doesn’t matter for now. your boss was pleased when he heard the news from you.

“did you manage to dig through his personal info? real name perhaps?”

“i—uhh…n-no, i still haven’t managed to..”

“…”

“just keep up the work, y/n. do not disappoint me.”

blade is an assassin for god’s sake, scooping information about him will take more than years to do so, even if you were playing as his faux ‘lover.’ you didn’t understand why he refused to answer questions from you in connection of his workspace, he replies all the time that it was ‘too embarrassing’ to say so. he says that then won’t hesitate to come home and drop his sword somewhere in his big house. this was going to take longer than you thought it was. no wonder this assignment was labeled as ‘heavy.’ investigating him was like a trace gone cold no matter how many evidence you found. it was like the said evidence were nothing but dents.

so that was why you decided to take matters into your own hands.

while he was out on his ‘work,’ you walked inside his home naturally, and quietly. blade always told you where his house keys were hidden every time he was out for business. your skills of not leaving traces as perfectly working as always. his small office inside of his house, you easily unlocked the door and went inside. blade had mentioned to you to never enter his house office, yet here you were. you couldn’t help but feel a little bad, however this was your job. you weren’t supposed to love him in the first place, you’re just a spy. playing with someone’s heart can be cruel.

his documents that spread on the inside of his cabinets that were placed on the sides, you opened them, seeing all the details you needed; displayed in front of you. your heart drummed in exhilaration, already imagining all the possibilities your boss might give you for your future works.

oh naive you..

“what might you be doing…y/n?”

a cold metallic feeling that touches your neck as you didn’t have time to react to the stern voice that whispered through your ears. gloved hands crawl through your thigh as the other held the bloodied sword closer to your throat. your breath hitches, and time froze at that moment. your eyes widen once you realized something..

he called you…y/n. not your fake name.

“b-blade..?”

“yes, y/n? what are you doing here?”

this wasn’t a fucking dream, he knows your name.

“why so silent now? are you surprised i know your real name, y/n?” the way he speaks your name was austere, moving closer before he gently lays his head on your shoulder. even his gorgeous face was splattered with blood, almost his entire clothing was. you were done for, your cover was blown.

“h-how..?”

“hm? how’d i know?” he chuckles. “simple…you’re a spy, aren’t you?”

you froze

“i thought your organization is a lot more smarter than that, sending a cute girl here to grab my attention. well…not like i’m complaining..you guys do know it’s not easy to fool me, right? and now you’re here in my office when i forbid you to go, that won’t do, y/n..” he spoke, softly caressing your thigh in a manner that slowly turned rough. you let out a soft grunt as blade grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, his red hues staring back at yours as he smiles like a manic. you couldn’t move your eyes away…those chilling eyes, like a predator looking at its prey.

“so? tell me.”

there was nowhere else to run. he’s got you on a chokehold, your body pressed against his as his strong grip held you down. you didn’t even register your thoughts completely to know you were sitting on top of him, you were too focused on his deadly gaze. your entire life as a spy, all fell down quickly like building blocks…all because of blade. your eyes felt like tearing up, finding the words to say, heartbeat screaming in your chest to just tell the truth…you…

“i have betrayed you, blade..”

blade’s attention was fully on you now, glancing at your body on top of his as you spoke in a whisper, almost in regret.

“i was going to find your name…and report it to the association…” you should’ve just declined the job. maybe the easier works were made for you after all.

“i’m sorry…if you must kill me then…i’ll accept that outcome.” you wanted to apologize to your boss, as well. for failing as a spy, for ruining his expectations on this ongoing mission. blade looks at you with no reaction, he still held you tight before grabbing his sword. this was it. this is the end for you.

“i see..” was all he responded before raising up his weapon, blood dropping down from the tip. blade hugs you tight, the sword adjusting over your neck.

as you closed your eyes, you watched as every decision you made throughout your life flashed before your mind. you began to wonder if maybe you were born as a normal girl—not a spy or anything, would you have found happiness? true love? would you have finished school and achieve a dream you’ve always wanted? probably. however, here you are, spending your last moments in life as it was ended by an assassin. there was no point in asking those questions now, this was the final.

just then, the sound of the sword dropping on the floor came on your ears, your eyes were back wide open when two pairs of arms are now wrapped around your shoulders, almost like a mother hugging her child close. blade laid his head down on your shoulder once more, smudging small drips of blood onto your clothing as you felt his breath on your neck.

“ren..” he mutters to you through the hug. “just call me ren…” then he pats your head like an animal.

you had a whole bag of questions right after that moment. pulling away, you looked at him with the most bewildered face ever, your face contorted whether you were angry or just plain confused.

“what?”

“hm? what? oh, ren as in—

“that’s not what i’m confused about..!”

blade was amused by how you reacted to his sudden gesture. most assassins by now would’ve sliced your neck open upon seeing you were an undercover spy sneaking info out of him, however from here…he instead proposed a deal. a deal that made you get stuck to this job.

“if you agree to marry me and become my wife, then i’ll allow you to keep spying on me.”

you think it’s dumb at first, marrying someone for the sake of knowing every little detail about him for some stupid mission. but again, his proposal was reasonable enough. for him, his side was that he gets to marry you. and for you, you can inform your boss you lured him into an engagement. easy as that. you can already see the look on your boss’ face once you tell him that exact information. blood rushes through your cheeks as you were thrilled with the thought. it’s a big win-win for both of you, and a marriage contract will do the trick. eventually, you agreed.

and thus, the two of you got married. in contract.

this was for the commission, was what you kept telling yourself. a married life with blade was…something that might take a while to get used to. he spoiled you rotten, when you guys got married he bought an expensive wedding gown on that same day, all because you thought the dress was pretty. he was loaded for an assassin. the stella hunters group payed them fairly. too fairly. they are a group of assassins after all. blade loved teasing you, seeing your face blush was his favorite sight. and his teasing wasn’t even intentional. hell—he probably turned a deaf ear when he was making fun of you.

no long after, you moved into his huge apartment. living together wasn’t much of a hassle. there were separate rooms, so whenever you wanted to not sleep with him, you would sleep in the other room (just in case). he’d gift you small gifts, something to entertain you with. sometimes, he’ll buy unnecessary lingerie to deride you with, piss you off with probably, too. you weren’t going to lie, some of the lingerie he bought were pretty (yet that doesn’t mean you like them !) it’s unbelievable to know how much blade says ‘i love you’s’ to you a whole lot. his demeanour as an assassin changed when you’re around.

on second thought, this man was out of his head. and weird.

you slightly began to think of him as a pervert, blade likes to scan down a lot to look at your melons. though, this doesn’t happen frequently, he only does it when you notice just to pull on your strings. you hated how instead of you who kept blade under your thumb, it was him who was influencing you. he had a strong morale, blade knows about the stares you give him every time he comes out of the shower. pretending like he doesn’t notice then would proceed to walk towards you with a towel over his leaking head. men like him on assignments are (kind of) no different, with good looks at first it should be alright, then suddenly they were perverts. it was an ongoing cycle you run throughout your life as a female spy, never escaping the chain of male clients.

and as for you who was an eye candy of every male gaze in your work, there was no difference of how easily they fawn over your figure like a barbie doll. nothing new to you; but to blade, he’s fully aware. he knew the treatment you got from your workplace, how you complained to him during on dates of how you were mostly assigned to older guys or either degenerates. as long as they were guys, you were quickly rolled in. you were pretty, and cute. he can understand why your boss gave you roles for victims who were men. it’s often hard grabbing the attention of a man after all, unless you were beautiful. yet he tells you how you actually did a nice job making him fall for you.

a blush erupts on your face when he mentioned that. blade only said that to make you feel better, is what your brain told you.

with the deal ongoing, you and blade made a lot of exchanges, some of them were cardinal for your mission as a spy. he gave you a lot of opportunities to know every little thing about him. in return, all he asked for were hugs, kisses, or dates. he was like a lovesick puppy. the loving looks he gave you, taking your palm out of nowhere then kisses them so soothingly. it was not worth questioning of how he makes you down on your knees. though you refused to let him know about that side of you of course.

you can’t let yourself down for a handsome assassin.

you and blade came home one day from a banquet incident.

it was supposed to be part of his assignment. to assassinate a director chief who was part of that party. all you have to do was merely watch him and be his party date. he came along with a colleague, her name was kafka. she introduced herself to you then congratulated your marriage with blade. she was beautiful, eyes hypnotizing and her presence as dangerous as blade’s. throughout the party, she started to grow a liking towards you, asking you to dance with her then glancing behind your back with your hand on hers. she was probably trying to make blade jealous.

how right she was when she said it worked.

kafka was rather flirty, although she was wearing a suit to the banquet, she still looks exquisite. for the entire night, you spent half of your time with her. well—she made you spend your time with her to be exact. dancing and sharing chats while drinking underneath the moonlight. you weren’t sure how blade reacted to his female companion being a little too close with his wife. in the meantime, she asked a lot of questions to you, too, asking how you and blade met, what made you love him, the usual questions like a mother asking about her son. she smiles mischievously at every answer you gave.

there was a side of you that’s telling not to trust this woman much. she had a mystique side to her. just by the look of her eyes, you knew kafka was someone not be trusted. she is an assassin, just like your husband. spies and assassins were no different much for their missions. unlike spies, they don’t kill in order to obtain said info. they hide themselves in order to do so, like skulking shadows. while assassins like them, chooses violence. how did the world come up so terrible that they created people like your profession to exist?

that same night, however, a small explosion occured, catching you immediate attention. the floor shakes with ease, leaving small visible cracks. screams of the people in that party made a ruckus, running out of the building from below your view as you only watched in a panic. what in the world just happened?

“hmm, just as the boss planned..” you hear kafka say, bringing her gun out of the pockets of her suit. she seems entertained; and she came prepared as predicated. you were right when you thought of how full her coat’s pocket looked. you send her a gaze, perplexed of what she meant.

“i-is ren going to be alright in there??”

“relax~ he’s a professional. do you really think bladie won’t survive in something so small like that~?” something so small, was his agency used to this type of disaster? assassins are frightening indeed. as kafka opened the door from the balcony you two stood in, a large dark smoke erupted out from the party room. you covered your nose, letting out a loud cough while kafka stood there, unbothered. a figure stands in front of her.

“i told you to send a signal, didn’t i?” kafka spoke, her eyes dark as a smile aligned on her face.

blade stands tall, his appearance sanguinary with the drip of crimson coming down on his sword. he looks nonchalant as he stared back at kafka, he huffs, “the bomb went off earlier than i thought. i’ve already slaughtered the remaining security,” blade says, wiping the small blood the slides down his chin. even with something like blood falling down on his image, your husband still looks ethereal. not a single scratch was on him, not even an injury from the bomb. he wasn’t bathing in his own blood, yet he bathed in others. the two assassins looked so astounding together. with their threatening aura and glances they shared, they were really one of the most best assassins in the team. your boss really was mindful to warn you about them.

“is that so? very good then. the lesser the better for our target to be shot in the head…also, you worried your adorable wife, y’know? she was scared you’d die in the bomb,” kafka tells the male, a soft chuckle following by. blade gazes back to meet your figure. you look magnificent in that dress he made you wear. coming to the banquet as his date was truly one of the best ideas he made. blade excused himself for a moment, walking past kafka and straight to you before pressing a small kiss on your temple, not minding the blood that smeared onto your forehead. his gloved hands pulled your head closer to him. you noticed blade had taken off his black coat that matched his suit, probably because it was too hot? either way it’s not worth pointing out, since he looks handsome looking like that.

“apologies, did that scare you..?”

“not at all j-just…shocked..”

“is that so?”

“save the loving hours for later, bladie. we got more business to take care of~” kafka cuts the small conversation between the both of you as she cunningly walks back inside the room boiled with grey smoke, her dark suit dissolving along with her enigmatic figure before disappearing in the space of the area. after she had left, blade turns his head to look back at you, his dark eyes never leaving yours, “you should head to a more safer spot. follow me, i’ll lead you there.”

the route you followed as you trailed behind blade made you quiver in fear when the glimpse of countless lifeless bodies of securities scattered all over the place like fallen dominos. it was if as a blood war happened here. the eerie silence pierced your cowardice even more that blade had to pull your closer to his side. talk about overprotective…your husband dragged you away to an overcast corner, where there were no one else surrounding near that spot. he told you to stay there for awhile, and wait for his return. credulously, you obliged and await for his arrival. the place creaked, helpless pleas fall onto your ears before hearing the sounds of either gunshots or the swift movement of a sword finish the loud cries they let out. this scared you, having to cover your ears and ignore the shouts they let out as the assassins out ended their lives, including the targeted director chief.

spies aren’t special in these types of occupations where blood spilled like paint. as said, your team is more in specialising in gathering top secret data from other groups that your association acquired to know about. meddling with other people’s business (inclusive of your husband and his colleague’s job) was on your description, but not into the extent of this. you weren’t used to hearing bullets firing, guts being spilled and cries of help ring in your ears like a nightmare. however, this was the nature for cold-blooded criminal assassins like them. the sound of footsteps echoed through your hearing, along with the sight of blade returning. his hair was a little messy (in a manner that turned him even more hotter), sword placed tightly in his palm, leaking with scarlet. blade sighed, “i’m back..”

“a-are you ok?? you’re dripping in blood..!”

“it’s their blood, not mine. are you worried about me, y/n?”

“o-of course i am! for goodness sake!” he laughs, a hoarse breath nudging in the middle of his throat before he pulls you closer, forehead pressed against yours as he stared deep into your eyes. “you stayed as i asked…how obedient, y/n. perhaps shall i reward you..?”

“h-huh?? what are you—

suddenly a loud bang shoots through the tranquil air, blade immediately pulled your close to him, before a bullet flies through below his hip, hitting him.

your eyes went wide, seeing small pricks of blood drool down from his abdomen. blade grunts, his head looked across from the room and meets with the annoying smirk of the (surprisingly) alive security had over their face. “b-blade..!” you couldn’t help but shout. there was an ignite of irritation in his eyes. blade ignores you, pulling a pistol out from his pocket and shooting a headshot at the man, before the security finally died. blade held the spot where he was shot; feeling his body weaken as you called for kafka who had just arrived, also bathed in blood; with documents in her hands.

a limousine came to pick you guys up to bring blade to immediate aid. for the entire time you stayed right next to his side until he was bandaged by one of the nurses in the limo, stopping the slight blood that leaked down. thank goodness, he was wearing a bullet proof vest. however with the amount of shots he received from earlier battles, it seems like the final shot you witnessed to him harmed him directly to a more effective part of the bullet proof, causing a bleed. everyone in the limo, they all wore dark attire, collected expressions as the whole drive towards blade’s apartment was as soundless as the dead. blade rested his head over your shoulder, sneaking small subtle touches on your inner thigh while you tried your best to keep your mouth shut. wrecking the droning atmosphere was not something you’d want to do, not to mention the people who were with you in the limo were part of the stella hunters association.

kafka asked if you needed any assistance in dragging blade up on your shared penthouse apartment, though blade cuts in; saying he didn’t need help and that he was practically fine now. it’s as if the bullet shot at his hip didn’t effect him at all. him saying that he was used to being hurt…this made you even more worried about him. as he was one of the strongest in his section along with kafka, it was obvious the missions they give him were extremely perilous.

after the limo had dropped the both of you in your place, kafka bids you a (quite terrifying) farewell through the car glass, velvet gloves waving you a goodbye before the window rolls back up, and the limo leaves with nothing else. blade stood firmly still, despite being shot earlier at the banquet. the bandaged area hid within his bloodied suit shirt, navy dark hair hiding his other eye before he waited for you to stand next to him. “shall we?” he spoke to you in a gentle manner, his hand outreached to yours before you held it and led him home to your shared place.

upon opening the door— you warmly made him rest down on the couch, running to the kitchen to fetch him some water and prepare a bath. blade watches as you run around the house like a panicking maid and an airy chuckle escapes from his lip, “y/n..”

“y-yes…?” you murmured, stopping yourself from pacing back and forth. blade tilts his head a bit, a small smile appearing over his lips, “you know you don’t have to keep doing that. you look so concerned right now, y’know? this… i’m used to it..” he speaks. you didn’t like how he normally says that like bleeding and harming for him was casual despite being an assassin. even if he was strong, blade was still a person. pouting, you threw the towel away from the side and made him look at you, obvious look over your expression you were angry of what he said. was he a dumbass? “don’t say things like that, blade.”

he grins, “why not? it’s true.”

“blade, please, you’re making me worry about your health more. if it weren’t for the bullet proof vest you would’ve died..!”

the male stood up impatiently from the couch, walking next to your side as he suddenly moves his head a little closer to yours, a hum erupting out of him. you moved away, feeling the heat on your cheeks. close…he was so close. what’s with him all of a sudden? “you’re worried, y/n? how very kind..” he whispers, breath fanning over your neck. you shivered. bashfully, you turned your head away; avoiding eye contact as you replied, “i-is there something wrong? if you don’t like that then i can stop worrying if you keep teasing me..”

“how very strange..earlier at the banquet you said you were worried about me. taking back your words now?” there was venom in his tone, an icy gaze that lacks of emotion except for lechery was filled in his appearance. instead of dangerous for his term as an assassin maybe dangerously handsome is a more fitting description. you remained silent, not being able to talk back like he exposed you fully. another chuckle. “not answering, huh? in that case..”

instantly, your figures moved back to the soft cushions of the couch; arms held tight by his fingers along with the feeling of your legs spread across his body—face looking directly over his dark features. you were on top of him while blade laid down on the couch, holding you by your arms.

“you still have work to do, y/n,” he began, voice enchanting with toxin, bloodshot eyes digging holes into yours like a madman. your breath shakes, paralyzed in place when his fingers moved up to play with the small fats of your hips. “you could threaten me with a weapon, dig your hands into my wounds, and i would have to answer all of your questions…” his tone now latched with sweetness like honey. seeming convincing enough for you to be enlightened. you stared back at him, puzzled. “what are you talking—

blade pulls your arm closer to his face, emotionless eyes peeking through your glimmering irises that reads confusion and clarity. he smiles, “right now, i’m so weak…i couldn’t resist anything you do to me..” he quietly sneaks your hand on his injured area, feeling the familiar touch texture of the bandage touch your skin. the lingering sensation made you wince, blade looks indeed weak; pale skin as he breathes heavily. “i’m sure your association has so many things they’d love to know about me..” he mutters to you, lovingly. your breath hitches, taken back.

“well? now is your chance.”

you tightly clutched your fists from his sentence. an opportunity to know everything your boss had been dying to know about this man. anything you’ll ask, he says he’ll answer due to his enfeebled form. there’s a chance; you can’t just turn your head from this. every achievement you can earn by getting the statistics they desperately wanted. everything you wanted will be given if you just do your job right now—

no.

“i’m sorry..” blade blinks his eyes twice, dazed from your response. “it must’ve hurt really bad, didn’t it? i don’t think…i can do anything to you right now..” as you slowly moved your head away from his chest, few strands of your hair fell down across your face causing you to brush them away, you looked at blade with eyes that reads nothing but worry. the male glances back at you with a questionable look. “…to the association, i’m merely just another pawn. just like all the others like me, if we stop being useful we’re replaced right away..” looking down on his stomach, you sighed, “we’re only ever concerned about our own safety, and the idea that someone would protect me with their body…was novel to me. maybe that’s why, i had to protect you as well..”

steadily, your returned your head down on his chest, feeling him breathe heavily through the strokes you drew on his chest. you snuggled into that same warmth, inhaling in his scent. he smelled like enigma and copper, mixed with the floating fragrance of dark virtue . “be careful next time, okay? you’re still my objective after all..” you wanted to see what your husband looks like right now. after all, it took you some time to tell him those words that’s been latched from the back of your throat. maybe he’s looking at you funny, wasn’t expecting them from someone like you. yeah.

the sound of water falling down the tub caught your attention as you promptly excused yourself before jumping off of blade’s chest. walking towards the bathroom, you turned off the faucet that spilled out with warm water, and went back outside to call for blade, telling him that his bath was ready. the bath needed a little more foam, perhaps adding bubbles and some soap to the water will help ease his mind once he’s in the bathtub. before you could head back inside the bathroom to fill the water with soap, a hand stopped you from doing so, as a figure hugged you from behind, head on your shoulder. you flinched, stammering on your words to see blade.

“i love you..”

your eyes go wide.

he kisses the back of your neck, breathing in your scent. “you don’t even understand how much those words make me love you more. you’re so mean, y/n..” blade brushes his lip against your cheek, feeling yourself shudder in his touch. he laughs when you try to push him away. “t-the bath is ready! get yourself washed up so you’ll cleanse your wound as well!”

“has that moody boss of yours never once stood for you?” he dodges your topic.

“…what?” and you definitely have a lot of questions just by the mention of your boss flew out of his mouth. although you couldn’t help but wonder: why was your boss indeed so interested in him? assassins are supposed to be mysterious, it’s crystal clear there a lot of essential inquiry they posses as shadows—but him specifically? there has to be a valuable reason. your boss never hid anything much from you. “how do you know my boss? all i was told was to investigate your background and weaknesses but…w-wait! is there some type of personal conflict between the both of you?? why is the association so interested in you?? hey, tell me—

blade’s lips shut you off, ceasing your words before they could even wind up your query. his weight caused you to lose a bit of your balance, your hands pinned on the entrance of the bathroom as you muffled in his mouth. the kiss tasted like impatience and longing. he freed one of your hands, slipping his gloved palm over your coverless shoulders with a smooth rub to it. you flinched, before blade pulls away from the kiss. it took you awhile to catch your breath and registered what just happened.

“h-hey, what—

“let’s make an exchange. a deal.”

blade finally lets go of your hand, his arm just right above your head as he leans closer, covering your path. he looks solemn, yet there was a hint over his eyes that construes as an engulfing flame of impulse to kiss you again. his other hand slowly slid down to the wall next to you, touching your shoulders till it reaches your hip, pulling you in. “i know i might be playing foul, but if that’s the only card i have then i don’t mind..” the male playfully plays with the fabric of your dress, pulling them up until your feel your inner thigh feeling the cold wind. “i knew you were a spy, yet i bound you by this marriage contract. that’s just how much i yearn for you..”

what is he talking about? a deal? just what crazy ideas is this guy coming up again?

you didn’t realise your were zoning out until blade pushes your chin up with his forefinger, making you look up at him in a better view. “y/n, my dearest..here’s the deal, i’ll tell you my secrets, but in return…” your heart pounds heavily with electricity—feeling your breath quicken when he pressed his forehead softly against yours.

“…let me do anything i want with you tonight.”

that marriage contract he mentioned, although it was fake for the sake of your mission, the predicament you found yourself in was real. though, you needed a little more thought to think about what he wants to do with you, including when blade looked so…steamy?

‘it’s a great chance to gather information, but…what does ‘anything he wants’ entail—huh?’

the atmosphere quickly changed, the male didn’t give you a chance to utter out a word when he instantly went back to claim your lips. this time the kiss grew more heated than before, linking between the emotions craving and thirst—his cold hands exploring your body from out and within your dress, feeling your curves and the heat between them. you were slowly losing your balance, legs weakening from his strength like he was forcing his mouth in yours. actually, he was even more forceful than usual. this is wrong but…you couldn’t resist. it was hot, so hot. it feels like you were sweating as you two exchanged smothering kisses. you never knew blade was talented with his tongue until he used it to deepen the kiss, casting around your mouth until a small drop of saliva escapes out of your lip.

“you would like that, yeah?” the male in front of you muttered between kisses, a grin stretched over his face. “knowing my secrets, sharing it to your associates so your mission would be complete. you’re desperate to know too, correct?” he just knew the buttons to press to make you jolt in his touch. an exchange where instead of hurting him and force him to answer your questions regarding of the info you needed to report to your boss, maybe doing this was better. you’re a virgin after all. a small muffled whimper escapes out of your throat, trying to push him away but blade had already pinned both of your arms above your head—his grip on them strong. he chuckles in the kiss when he notices you struggling for air with your eyes tight shut. he pulls away, along with a small string of saliva connecting between your lips. you could finally breathe again as you pant hard. blade thinks the sight in front of him was fucking delicious, you acting so helpless and weak.

you see your husband licking his lip, right before leaning close again. “good girl, y/n. let’s kiss more, can we…?”

“i…”

“what’s that, dearest?”

you bit your bottom lip, fists tightening on his chest. flashbacks of your co-workers calling you pure, naive, artless…it was time for you to try something new, something you’ve never done before that everyone has already been through as young adults, or even teenagers. him giving you this opportunity to know such crucial data, if in exchange for your body. it was a better deal than earlier.

besides, you wanted to thank him.

it was a terrible decision to rub your thighs together; thinking blade wouldn’t notice (but he did). because of this, his pupils darken, something similar to the look of his eye whenever he was on assassin mode. “i wouldn’t do that if i were you, dearest..” blade spoke, already beginning to feel drunk on that desire that rushes through his veins. “you’re making this harder for me.”

“i’m…”

blade hums in reply to your short words, finger under your chin before you finished your sentence. you just needed the right string to pull off the trigger. maybe this is for the best for your new world. as a spy. you’ll get that stupid title you had for the whole 7 years of working there off of your name. staring right back at blade, looking through his red eyes, you took a deep breath.

“i’m all yours, blade.”

that was all he needed to hear.

he launched towards your lips, kissing you again with fiery passion. you kissed him back as you wrapped your arms around his neck, closing your eyes as you two indulge yourselves in a heated make-out session for the second time. blade was rough with his kisses, as if he was going to shift his name to your mouth, claiming every air that was entering through your lips and help you breathe properly. saying those words to him were a mistake, too, blade wasn’t letting you struggle. the lipgloss you applied that evening before heading to the banquet with him smudged on his lips, tasting you and its flavor. slowly did you feel your feet levitating from the floor, before a surprised yelp comes out of your voice.

blade was carrying you now, your arms still linked around his shoulders. he went forward to your neck after, licking your collarbone up until it reaches your throat, before slowly nipping his sharp teeth at the skin. your breath shakes, abjectly looking away at the vision of blade peppering wet kisses at your sensitive neck alongside leaving visible marks to them. oh how he loves the taste of your skin, like if he was licking the sweetest treat for the first time. his hands caressed your cheek like they were made of ivory, pulling away to look at your panting face, blushing madly. he likes the look of that. “you’re still as soft..and still as sweet..” he mumbles, “i’m getting tired, so why don’t we head up now, hm?”

answering back at him won’t help since the guy was already rushing up to his bedroom with you in his arms, pushing the door open with impatience of a madman—he pulled you in yet another kiss, and a satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you both settled down on his comfy bed. the room smelled like roses, lingering with air conditioned fragrance. you could fall asleep to the relaxing atmosphere, yet blade was helping you keep awake. your neck was probably covered in marks by now, since the assassin wasn’t intending on stopping. the cold air hits your bare thighs, making you shiver twice by the temperature, and by how blade’s fingers began to slide down on your legs to the core of your heat. you gasped hard once his forefinger reaches the main fabric of your panties.

“you’re panting hard though all we did was just kissing. imagine how hard you’ll be panting once i get to shove myself in you.” he was looking down on you and your pathetic figure. how your tummy goes up and down, how your legs squished his hand that touches your panties, how your doe eyes laced with innocence looked at him when he teased you. his patience was running thin with you. god, you’re going to be the death of him. biting hard down on your thumb, you held blade’s arm, tugging on the sleeve. “i-i’ve never done this before..” you murmured, glossy eyes hypnotizing him under your spell. blade curses under his breath, pushing his hair back. you’re so damn cute, he wanted to just fuck your face but he can’t just do that. as much as he’d like to ruin you, rapture himself with your presence—he needed to be gentle with his cute virgin wife.

“yeah? well, i’ll be pleased to teach you then.” he replies, shortly before ripping your panties down to your legs. you winced once the cold air entered to your heating core, seeing small drops of impure liquid drip from your entrance to the soft fabric of your underwear. blade chuckles at your reaction. “first, i’ll teach you how to prep yourself before we get to the main part. but damn, wet already? all we did was share kisses, dearest.”

a pout forms over your face with the sudden teasing, making you meekly cross your legs in order to hide. blade however, didn’t like this attitude you give him. “don’t, i’m observing..” was all he says, his eyes scanned down to your leaking cavern like a hunter tracking down its next meal. you felt frail under his ravening gaze, hands curling into fists while you whined of the way his other hand rubbed over your thighs, earnestly—under all the touch of his black gloves. “i-its embarrassing, don’t look at it like tha—ah!”

his hand worked like magic, gloved fingers propped over your aching entrance as he gave it a rub. that alone was already enough to make your jolt from the comfy sheets of the bed, a loud gasp erupting out of your mouth. blade began to starve from eagerness, pulling his glove out of his hands using his teeth, before his now naked hands continued to toy with your puffy clit; glistening like a gem on his hands. the new feeling sends all kinds of electrical waves throughout your body—pleasure from heaven that shoots just where you liked it. holy shit, this felt good. no wonder some of your co-workers told how you were ‘missing out’ on some of your opportunities to sleep with some of your targets.

the way his hands rubbed circles around your entrance was sending shockwaves and new emotions that coil up inside of your stomach. this was such a nice feeling, you didn’t want him to stop. you hear blade chuckle, “relax, honey..” he whispers, dark and smooth like velvet. his eyes were glued to yours, watching your every reaction and every breath that comes out of your mouth. he didn’t want to miss a single one of it. “you’re so pretty..i can’t wait another minute..” he had a tight grip over your thighs, fingers soaked from kneading your hole in circles. though, he was curious; and also wanted to give you a new experience..

you were disappointed when the feeling of his stroking his fingers on your clit stopped, looking at him with a hopeless look on your face. blade smiles, right before as he shoves you down more on the bed, his fingers entering your narrow entrance. you let out a satisfied cry, back arched up. now that was even more better. hell, that was already enough to sends a current down on your body, you looked so pretty when you whine. “why do you look like that? have you never fucked yourself with your fingers before?” he questions, and you shook your head. he whistles, “heh. you really were missing out. fuck, what a tight one. and this is just with my fingers,” blade slightly flicks his tongue over your mouth, pinning your arm above your head while his fingers began to pump in and out of your cute pussy, squelching noises echoing inside of the room. sweet melodies came out of your throat, sounding like music to your husband’s ears. oh how he wished he could record you right now.

“you look gorgeous crying my name like that, dearest.”

you bit your bottom lip, closing your eyes as you try to just focus on the pleasure he was giving you. his fingers dig deeper to a spot you wanted him the most—prodding closer to your release. you moaned out his name, your white knuckled hands gripped the sheet, the tension in your muscles growing as you held yourself to remain still. “b-blade…!”

“what’s wrong? afraid you like it?” the corners of blade’s mouth twitched upward still in a mischievous grin. slowly did your hips begin to bounce over his drenched digits, silencing your pleasured sighs by biting down hard on your finger as the continuous resonance of your moist cunt being played by his fingers filled the room’s walls. it was as a clear as day you’re inexperienced, so that’s why he thinks this was a perfect time. blade notices how your euphoric essence followed through his rhythm, seeming amused he let you be to pleasure yourself on him, trying his best to ignore his aching cock underneath the fabric of his pants—the sight of you acting like a bitch in heat is forbidding him from doing so however. your moans went louder when you felt his fingers curl inside your clit like it was an instrument, hearing his manic chuckle as he watches you squirm and tremble.

it was lewd. small gasps escapes your lips, trying to cut the knot that’s tied inside of your belly. a wave of intensity runs through your skin as you closed your eyes shut; feeling that closeness almost approaching from your core. good, it felt so good you could almost float on how his fingers did its job. blade kisses you, a groan floating out of his tongue before the coil inside of you was finally cut, and you feel your high dripping down on your legs. you cried loudly into the kiss, before pulling away, panting deeply. the space that lives inside of your head was filled with smoke, mindless into the gaze of the eyes with shades of red. it hasn't even been closer to 5 minutes when your husband began to finger your pure pussy, yet your first orgasm rushed through you like a huge tide. and shit, it felt great. a drool slipped past your lips while catching your breath; meanwhile the smirking assassin on the other hand was chucking as he collected a small amount of your impurity on his long digits, before taking a taste. you blushed madly upon seeing how his red hues widen at the flavor of your arousal.

as he parted his tongue off from his fingers, a small string of saliva followed by. that was fucking hot. "dearest...you taste fucking divine, y'know that?" he tells you like a beast after his thirst was quenched. "what an honor to be your first person to teach you all about this. now that you know how fucking on fingers feel like, next..." the male instantly moves away from your side, roughly gripping hard on both of your thighs before kneeling on the floor right in front of the mattress—predatory gaze meeting your slick pussy. his hot breath fans over core, before planting a quick kiss over at the sensitive area. you squirmed. "for this next one, let me teach you what fucking on my tongue feels like..." you weren't even finished resting from your previous orgasm and he was already prepping you for round 2. this man is going to slaughter you...

at a leisurely pace did he flailed his tongue out of his lips, before he licks a long stripe at your aching cunt. your back arched, a mewl spilled off from your throat, eyes shut tight as your legs moved on its own. sheepishly wrapping around his neck to pull him closer to your core, your hands tugging on his hair. it felt like a whole new feeling, his warm wet tongue navigating to your area—creating new sinful noises to come out of your lips. your breath became quicker, being filled with greediness and filth.

your body quivers as blade began to eat you out, much more faster than before. your liquids hovering on his tongue as animalistic growls erupts from his throat, hand gripping more harsh on your thighs, leaving finger marks in the process as his mouth sucks on your bud like it was his last meal. your thoughts began to melt in pleasure, cries of satisfaction being the only sound along with the continuous laps of blade's mouth feasting over your core, gripping down onto your thigh fat like a madman begging to be choked between your legs.

there was another knot building up over your stomach in no time when blade's mouth reached a certain spot in you, causing you to arch your back upwards, covering the sudden yelp you let out in surprise. his mouth began to lick on that inexorable spot that he had discovered, smirking before sucking every fiber out of you. how vulgar the noises his tongue made while he fucks you with his mouth. you began to see stars, heaven sent euphoria from above that this type of lust that boils within you made you feel like a whole new different person. it was sending new flares within the contact of touches he did, your body grinding on his handsome face—the cushions of the bed below being soaked by your spilling arousal from earlier. that same flare began to engulf more into a more intense heat, feeling your second wave of orgasm incoming while fucking yourself on his warm tongue.

blade had a now tyrannical grip on your thighs, pinning you in place while drowning in your overflowing fluids that started to spill little by little from your satiated cunt. the ongoing sensations of seraphic emotions crawling to the tips of his toes, poorly grinding himself at nothing. the sheets were steadily threading apart from the nails of your fingers, brain fixating at the man beneath you. his groans had been more vocal now, tongue leisurely sliding over your wet folds, while you were here fighting for your life to not cum on his face out of nowhere. how cute you are, weeping with pure tears running down your cheeks. it felt that good? poor girl, there there now...this will finish soon. he just needs to hear you.

"y/n...let me hear you, dearest." his feast over your folds stopped when he spoke, wiping the liquid that fell down his chin with his thumb. you whined, legs prying to make him continue by pulling him closer, feeling vulnerable. he likes the look of that. "p-please...blade.."

"that's not the name we agreed on when we signed that marriage contract now, did we?" blade was definitely teasing you, pressing small pecks on your thigh to taunt you more. it was adorable of how you didn't realize how your eyes were molded in the lustful shapes of hearts, panting heavy as you tried to grind your face back on his hot mouth. with this new reaction of yours, he’ll make sure to take not on how to tease you. he backs away a little with a grin, softly caressing your legs wrapped around his shoulders. "if you want me to keep going, then say my name, dearest. my real name." the heat between your legs was too hard to ignore now, igniting up like blade was your fuel to the fire. it was painful to resist, including when you were already feeling so needy. you took a sharp breath, shifting your position as you locked eyes with the male, looking right at you. "r-ren...please..p-please keep going.."

"so obedient..." he finally muses, before fully shoving his tongue inside your folds. you folded back, hands roughly tugging on his hair as your legs kicked the air from behind, pitiful screams pushed past your lips as you feel the release almost coming of you. you hopelessly grinded on his face, pleas of his name spilling out of you like a mantra as he slowly devoured your clit. he holds you down, laughing between each suck he did on your cunt, right before pushing you over to the edge. whimpers of his name reached his ears like a symphony along with his soft groans, drinking your juices as you came down on your second orgasm. your body heaved, breathless, sweat dripping down your forehead in each breath you took. your thighs were covered with your wetness, with blade licking off your arousal from your folds before pulling away. if you could only take a good look at yourself now, you wouldn't wonder why blade was wearing a proud grin over his face.

the sight of you looking a mess, ruined, and spilled with your fluids. your hair was messy, strands up over your face as for your dress was a wreck. his cock hurt...you were ready now, so why need to hold back? your husband hovered against your figure for a moment, then leaning in to your lips and kissing you affectionately, giving a free taste of yourself that spread on his mouth. the both of you moaned in the kiss, blade sneaking his tongue in your mouth in order to hear more of you, audible growls mixed with your winsome whines. that was when you felt something hard poke beneath your leg, his hips rocking against your naked thigh as the both of you exchanged wet kisses. pulling away, blade lays his forehead against yours, "don't taste too bad, yeah? i think i'm gonna grow addicted to eating you out now."

your slapped his arm, and he chuckles darkly, moving away. it seems you were quite quick to take a breath even after going through two orgasms already, and both of which still hasn’t done with his dick. his eyes looked different than before—as if they were now injected with ecstasy. "now, onto the final one.."

your eyes darted towards blade as he slowly took his black coat off of his attire, his arms pushing back to remove the dressing alongside his black loose tie that hung messily around his neck, all while gazing at you with an intoxicating look. you gulped a small lump that was stuck between your throat, cheeks flaring as you watched him take upper clothing off, revealing the bandage patched to where he was (kind of) shot. "you're looking at me so intensely..like what you see?" he coos, and you looked away, feeling bashful when he called you out. this wasn't the first time that you had seen him shirtless, the both of you often almost ended up having sex if it weren't for you acting so endearing underneath him, the feeling of wanting to ruin your innocence leaving his body whenever he'd see you on that state.

yet now, the male felt like he had the strength to ravage your perfect body. hands sliding up to grope on your plush breasts in awe. he leans down, nipping the soft nape of your lovebite-covered neck; his fingers teases your nipples, dragging his tongue up till it reaches the shell of your ear, whispering words drugged with filth and vileness. your mind was hazy, from the previous bursts you let out from pleasure you couldn't really think straight. when the perception of your eyesight changed when you saw that same tent moving in his pants. it weighed down, catching your attention. naively did you reached for the bump in his pants, and softly rubbed on it, feeling how hard he is. blade groans when your fingers prodded on his clothed erected dick, slowly stopping from fondling your breasts as he gave in the pleasure you’re sending him. you can feel him shudder from above you. "fuck...you just—o-oh fuck..yeah, just like that. keep doing that, dearest.." he whimpered, hiding his face against your neck.

you moved your head to turn to blade, your fingers went forward to touching him while you timidly question if what you were doing was alright, you’ve never done this before after all. blade’s face was burning with carnal passion, sweat falling off his face. you stammered, “l-like this..?”

“yeah..n-ngh…p-put your thumb…rub your thumb over—hold on…”

you examined how blade impatiently takes his pants off, along with his dark-toned undergarments before his long shaft sprang to life, bumping into his toned tummy as it faced directly at you. heart pumping loudly in your chest, e/c pupils wide open as you realize his size…he was big, drops of pre-cum already leaking from his red angry tip while you lay there, astounded. you weren’t sure if he was going to fit. no seconds passed when blade took a hold of your hand, taking your fingers to wrap around his dick with your thumb kneading over the tip. “rub your thumb over here…and pump your hands up and down..” he teaches you, and you did just that. your breath stutters, looking at the navy haired male on top of you and how he started to groan in infatuation when you began pumping his cock. a surprised look latched on your face when you see him thrusting his hips up a bit in your hands, his palms still on your tits right until he brings his mouth to latch on one of your nipples.

the two of you let out your voices laced with lechery, voices producing tainted sounds as blade continued to fuck your hand while he sends you sweet bliss by sucking on your cute breasts, swirling his tongue over your areola as the other twirls his fingers around your nipple. tiny tears of his fluid started to flow down over your palm while you jerked him off, signalling how he’s close. the bed’s head bumped against the wall, loud creaking noises from its legs echoed in the bedroom. his semen covered your hand, little by little did his release came close right before blade pulls your hand away from his shaft, while also pushing himself away from your breasts. you innocently tilted your head, bewildered. he looks a little disappointed.

“don’t wanna cum just yet, pretty…wanna…do that now..” he says, despite already almost on the verge of cumming from your hand. pressing a small kiss on your cheek, the male tugs your dress down, taking a good view of your upper chest.

he thinks you’re pretty. he knows you’re pretty, blade always knows that, even after seeing you for the first time to whatever bullshit mission your organization got you into. but, he thinks you’re even more prettier without clothes.

how your body sculpted perfectly against his touch, lingering fragrance of your perfume and the scent of your hair had always been driving him mad alone. your body was a figure sculpted by angels and goddesses, your dress was completely ruined as it slides down your shoulders (so much for buying an expensive party clothing for a banquet that’s planned to be destroyed) all of you, just for him—a blessing. you were displayed like a gift. blade has always fantasized having you sprawled on the mattress of his bedroom like this, looking so helpless and begging to be fucked by him. oh, how god was on his side this day when his fantasies were finally happening, like a dream coming true.

blade was stunned once you brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing his face like a real wife would do to her husband. bounded to this contract for a mission, like a forced arrangement. however, there were no forces, and he just..really loves you. he blames himself for not meeting you any sooner, but that didn’t matter now; you’re here, underneath his figure, acting like you didn’t just scream his name while you came two times. fondly, as he gazed with devotion, blade held your hand that nuzzled on his warmth, tilting his head to the side. his hair falls down his gorgeous face.

“are you ready?” a question comes up, pushing your thighs apart, making the cold air hit your bare pussy that was shown to him. blade reached out for a packet of protection over the lamp next to the bed, ripping it open with his teeth and sliding it in with ease over his length. was that condom there in the first place? you didn’t know. he stroked himself a few times, gliding the tip against your swollen cunt. he wasn’t even in, yet your were trembling as you nodded.

“then, take a deep breath.”

you didn’t take note that what he said was actually warning.

no words were left to escape past your lips, replacing with a high pitched gasp as he gently inches into your cavern. fuck, he was big, it stings bad. he was absolutely right when he said to take a deep breath, the thickness of his shaft was killing you. your back arched up, already ripping off the sheets from his bed as blade’s head rested on your shoulder, surprised by your tightness. it was sucking in, getting to know each one’s heat as the two of you laid there for a while to adjust to his size.

“ fuck, just as i expected..”

“ ‘s so much…so full..”

you were basically almost sobbing at his length throbbing inside of you, making you wiggle your hips and push more down. shit, shit, shit, this felt good…you were seeing fucking stars, you were clawing down on the sheets, panting with that sinful voice of yours. blade notices this eagerness from you, and to him that was a sign for him to start moving.

with a slow pace, he looks down over at your figure, toying around with your tits as he begins to snap his hips to yours. the bed too began to creak, small squeaking sounds of his bed as blade slowly fell into the pleasure of your pussy clamping down on him. this seraphic occurrence you both were in, lost in each other’s touch and desire were like the world was nothing. tainted sounds of moaning and soft grunts and groans filled the room like an opera. your vision was clouded with passion, his face grinning down over your body like you were a goddess.

slowly and slowly, he starts to move his hips a little more faster, forcing you to follow through his rhythm, making sure your cunny can take in as much as it can. this was the moment, blade found your g-spot like a fucking bloodhound. the male smirks, now snapping his hips forward faster. that same sensitive area brought you to tears, going louder as both of your hands clawed down on his back, leaving visible marks as a reminder how he was hitting the good spots. the bed was hitting the wall behind you so hard, you thought it was about to break.

“ah! r-ren..!”

“don’t worry, i—fuck…i got you…”

it was filthy, the way he pushes his tongue down your lips to muffle your cute moans as he pounds his hips into you. he was in so deep…the tip was practically hitting on your cervix repeatedly like a cycle. it was like this man wasn’t almost injured at all. you couldn’t think of anything else..nothing else but the shape he’s leaving in your insides with just his dick was going to corrupt your head. you forgot what you came here for, fuck the mission.

“you’re so beautiful, dearest..crying my name like that..does it feel good?”

you nodded your head, tugging on his hair as he chuckles darkly. another knot in your stomach began to build up in no time, legs kicking the air as blade continued to ruthlessly ram himself in your tight pussy with a satisfied grin. you’re sure by the end of the day your legs would be sore, and you have to rest. so much for a first time, blade wasn’t giving you any vanilla in the house. you couldn’t believe you were doing this in exchange for information. he better keep his fucking promise.

he’s fucking into you like beast, lips kissing your breast before he hisses down over your bottom lip, “i’m not gonna fucking last…you’re driving me insane, woman..”

“r-ren please…feels so good…i’m..”

“yeah? me too, don’t worry…wanna see you covered…” he couldn’t finish his sentence as he was cut off with a groan, feeling his rod throbbing hard it was aching for a release. blade laughs. “all covered like a mess…is that ok, dearest? would you let your husband do that?” he questions so innocently like he wasn’t fucking you hard you’re seeing white. not thinking straight, you nodded like a helpless maiden, hands wrapped around his neck as you moaned, small drool spilling past your lips. “y-yes..please…”

“oh fuck..”

blade feels your release spill in the condom, hearing you mewl so loud in ecstasy it covers his own moans and grunts. oh god, your voice..it was so naughty, he couldn’t help it. he wasn’t showing any mercy to your pussy after that as blade now abused your poor cunt by going even more faster, not giving you time to recover from your precious orgasm. he groans next to your ear, saying your name before he bit on your earlobe. you squealed, the bed almost moving in a different direction. it took a while before the male pulls out, removes the rubber and spilled all over your stomach, some of the fluid landing on your face. it was a little upsetting how he didn’t get to cum inside of you, yet he’ll save that for future sessions..

the two of you lied there, panting heavily like you both just the ran a marathon. his head rested down on your shoulder, giving small kisses over your collarbone as you catch your breath. it feels icky, the cum on your stomach that he made…he came quite a lot.

“how’s that for a first time…?”

you opened your eyes to see blade gazing so lovingly at you like a prince. pouting, you pinched his arm, making him flinch. “you spilled all over me…”

“i asked if i can, you said i could.”

“i-i wasn’t listening properly..!”

“were you that into it?”

your face turns crimson, turning your head away. for a few moments, blade moves closer before giving you a short kiss on the lips, before he pulls away and removes the saliva off your chin with his thumb. you’re adorable, he knows you’re adorable..

“now then, what is it you’d like to know about me?”

oh..right. the exchange he made.

“huh? oh..! u-uhm..”

“did i fucked your brains out so hard you can’t remember?”

you had to hide your face with your palms because of how vulgar he said those words with a devilish grin. now you know why your boss wanted to know about this man.

he was indeed very mysterious. and charming perhaps.

#blade x reader #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #lily’s.blog🌸#lily’s.fic🩷

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hystixia · 9 months

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A TEST OF FAITH.

SUMMARY 、YOU’RE THE PRIEST’S DAUGHTER, SWEET AND INNOCENT AND FREE FROM SIN. UNTIL JEFFREY WALKED IN AND TURNED YOUR WORLD UPSIDE DOWN.

FEATURING 、JEFF MASON X F!READER

WARNINGS 、FINGERING (M -> F), PUBLIC FINGERING, BLASPHEMY, RELIGION KINK, CORRUPTION KINK

NOTES 、i gotta thank my lovely mutual @hysterotic for helping me flesh out ideas for this one. love you babe also depending on how well this does. i’ll do part 2 LMFAO

The air is tense on the ride to church. The sun casts the world in a warm glow as it slowly rises beyond the horizon and you keep your eyes fixated on the blur of trees passing by as your father drives and taps his finger impatiently on the steering wheel.

You sigh softly and look into the rear view mirror at his reflection. “Daddy, what’s wrong?” You ask gently and you hear your father sigh almost tiredly.

“Nothing, sweetheart it’s just…” He contemplates it for a moment before shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I don’t want you feeling burdened in any way this morning.” It’s Sunday, of course he didn’t want you feeling anything but the spirit of the Heavenly Father washing over you.

You hum rather defeatedly, resting your chin in the palm of your hand and staring out the window once more. “Mkay..” You mumble out, saddened your father didn’t feel like he could share whatever wad weighing hard on him but maybe the Lord could help ease the heavy feeling he has today. You close your eyes and say a small prayer just as you feel the familiar turn onto the gravely trail that leads up to the church you’ve spent your entire life going to.

The pearly white chapel comes into view and your eyes gravitate to the sight, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you see other members pulling up around the same time as you and your father and mother. You sit up straight as your father parks the car and tugs the keys out, fixing your sundress as you wait patiently for your father to exit first before following soon after.

The familiar faces by the church, idly chatting all turn and smile at the sight of you. The older women compliment you, saying you look like an angel as always in those pretty sundresses you always wore.

You’d giggle bashfully in response to their compliments, cheeks warm to the touch as you thank them and compliment them back before the sound of a loud rumble echoes out and you turn to look over your shoulder at the road as a noisy motorcycle pulls into the spot beside your parents’ car. You squint your eyes due to the harsh brightness of the morning sun peeking through the distant trees and into your field of vision as you try to get a good look at the individual. It’s hard to see much until the person gets off the bike shortly after and starts coming toward you.

“For christ— Ahem, you took your sweet time getting here didn’t you, son?” A loud voice from behind you speaks up. You notice the way your father seems to hold a cold stare you’ve almost never seen on his face before as he watches the guy approaching you chuckle, a deep rumbly sound that has you surprised to hear such a deep voice.

“Took the scenic route.” He says with a grin in his voice and as the bright leaks of sunlight hide behind his tall frame, you finally get a good look at his face. And boy did you feel your heartbeat quicken.

His eyes look down into yours and you instantly tear your stare away and focus on the ground beneath you. Grass has never looked so greener before until now.

Your father reluctantly shakes hands with the guy whose appearance is not very fitting, nor would you consider it appropriate for church service. The black ripped jeans with a chain dangling on them, dirtied combat boots, a learner jacket on and somewhat hiding the black band tee he wore underneath. It had a print of a music band you’ve never heard of and it left you feeling curious. You’ve never heard such music before. Anything remotely inappropriate or dark and taboo wasn’t allowed in your parents’ house.

You feel like you’ve stared for too long and look over to your mother for guidance and she gives you a knowing look before subtly glancing at the church doors. You excuse yourself but shortly after, everyone else is coming into the quiet place and the sounds of footsteps and quiet chatter echo throughout the building. You take a seat on the long bench you’ve always sat at while your mother sits on the other side of the church at a different place. You see the man that had talked rather loudly behind you earlier come in along with who you presume is his wife and a rather young looking teenage boy, but where was the motorcycle guy that he had called ‘son’?

“Hey,” Your eyes widen at the sound of a low and deep voice in your ear and you whip your head around to look to your side where you see the aforementioned motorcycle guy. His black hair frames around his face and he smirks at you. “Did I scare ya?”

You blink a few times before shaking your head, mumbling a soft ‘no’ in response to which he chuckles at before letting his arm rest on the back of the bench, nudging your shoulders ever so slightly but you try to ignore it. Your father however is practically staring daggers into the boy when nobody’s eyes are on him before he stands up and prepares to start the day’s service.

You try to scoot away from the strange guy, keeping your eyes on those that sing and you can feel his eyes on and it makes goosebumps rise along your arms.

Suddenly you’re asked to sing and you feel your heart drop to the floorboards. You’ve never felt so nervous in all your life, it was something you were always asked to do by other members of the church so why did it feel so scary to do all of a sudden? Was it because of the mysterious boy beside you? Who knows. You swallow thickly, standing up with a tremble in your legs and hands so you grip onto the bench in front of you. You clear your throat quietly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats so wildly and so hard it makes your throat want to close up on you. You manage to start singing a hymn, one that everyone seemed to love hearing you sing the most and as you let your eyes flutter closed you relax your nerves and let the words flow through you and out into the world.

It’s only a few short minutes and then you’re politely sitting down but as you do so you feel something against the side of your thigh and see his own pressed snug against yours. Did he move closer or did you accidentally sit too close? You apologize in a whisper, trying to move away but he shakes his head at you with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Nah, I don’t mind, angel.” He says back, a whisper in a low voice only you could hear and it makes your heart flutter with an unfamiliar feeling as you force your attention back to those around you as people begin to testify.

You’re so focused on them all, nodding and feeling the spirit seep into your being that you don’t notice the unfamiliar touch against your dress as something slides up your thigh. It makes you tense up for a second when you realize and you glance at the guy who’s seemingly leaning a little too close for comfort but it would appear to others that he’s just trying to see the individuals that stand up and testify better.

“Don’t let temptation distract you from the words of God, doll.” He whispers with a grin on his face, eyes flicking down to your doe eyes that tear themselves away from his face and over to the other people.

He was right. No matter what he was doing, whatever it might’ve been… It was just the devil trying to keep you in his hold. Yet it was so hard to focus when the pads of his fingers grazed over your panties making you shiver slightly.

You didn’t know what he was doing. You’ve never been touched anywhere by anyone before, especially down there, but it was a rather nice and foreign feeling that you found yourself wanting just a little more of. Unconsciously, your legs spread just enough to let his hand cup your clothed sex and he rubs his index and middle against your panties until he feels a damp patch that makes him bounce his knee to keep himself from dragging your foolishly innocent self out of the church and fucking you in the bathroom.

Your father mentions an individual’s name for them to lead into prayer and everyones, including your own, heads turn down and al eyes are closed as silence envelopes the church and the only voice heard is a wretched sinner crying out for the Heavenly Father as he gets on his knees and prays.

You’re focused on listening to his words, feeling the pain he’s burdened with carrying as your brows knit together and you listen thoughtfully. Then something cold and foreign pushed against your nether regions and your thighs twitch as your eyes open and you glance to the guy beside you. He grins sinisterly, like he was the devil incarnate and you shiver under his gaze.

“Listen to ‘im, angel. Hear the cries of a fellow sinner and pay attention.” He whispers with a sick chuckle as he pushes his digit into your warmth and nudges it against your gummy walls. It’s uncomfortable for a few seconds, a new and foreign feeling you’ve never felt before but you unknowingly clench around him as he begins to pump it at a rather quick pace that has pleasure tingling in your gut suddenly as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to block out whatever he was doing to you in attempts to distract you.

Was it wrong? Was this something bad that he was doing to you? You didn’t know and couldn’t find the right answer you tried to search for in your mind. Whatever it was, it had a great effect on you and when you opened your eyes and prayer ended, tears blurred your vision but not from the Holy Spirit overwhelming you, oh no, it was that guy’s hand that overwhelmed you.

A tight coil burns hot in your belly as your legs tremble and you force yourself to straighten up and stare onward as your father stood to his feet and started to preach. Your mind was clouded, hazy and lagged behind on the words and sounds that met your ears but the warm breath tickling the side of your neck kept you alert and on edge in more ways than one.

You bite your bottom lip, trying to hear your father’s words as it touches the souls of many in the church. Your brows twitch, eyes gliding over the various people and a wave of feel-good tingles seeps into your being and your eyes flutter closed for a moment, a soft sigh leaving you glossy lips.

Your father’s preaching reaches its peak just as your thighs squeeze around the strange guy’s hand tightly, as if they never wanted him to leave and then euphoria washes over you. Like being hit by the Holy Spirit, your body tenses up and warmth floods your being as a sharp but quiet gasp leaves you and you curl in on yourself, hands gripping the cushion of the bench by your thighs. You heave quick breaths, heart racing in your chest as those digits curl into something incredibly sensitive inside of you before pulling away and you’re left feeling empty and exhausted.

You watch with half lidded eyes as he raises his hand up towards his face, it’s glistening with something slick on it and you wonder if it came from you. The thought embarrassed you to no end and when he popped the digits into his mouth, sucking the substance off them and then grinning at you as he shoved his hand into his pocket, it made you feel pulled towards him as if you couldn’t get enough despite knowing he was no good for you.

Your cheeks feel warm to the touch, cupping your hands against the hot flesh as you try to slow your breathing and shortly after, church has ended and people are socializing outside. You muster up the strength to stand on legs wobbly like a newborn fawn, hearing that boy chuckle at you as he gets up and walks away like nothing had happened. It saddens you a bit, you had felt some type of connection because of that strange interaction with him but you try to ignore it and move on just like he was so easily able to.

You manage to get out of the church, heading for the car earlier than your parents would’ve liked. You felt so lightheaded you just needed somewhere a little more private to cool off for some reason. You don’t get there in time before that boy is reaching you however.

“Aw, leavin’ already?” He’s teasing, he knows he’s the reason you feel so odd right now and the more you look at him the more you want to cling onto him. Thoughts that aren’t your own begin to fill your head, inappropriate and so lewd it makes you shiver with a mix of disgust and embarrassment directed toward yourself.

“I just need to cool off.. It’s warm out today.” You try to reason, voice a bit strained and shaky as you try to stand up straight but it’s obvious you’re a horny wreck in his eyes and he chuckles at you.

“S’that it? Just got too hot?” He takes a few steps towards you, an unreadable look in his eyes and you struggle to hold his gaze as you fumble over your words until he’s got you cornered with your back against the car. Those wide doe eyes, glassy with need, almost gets under his skin. He grins and it makes your stomach do flips when he looks at you that way. “Y’sure it’s not because I touched ya right here?” His hand forces its way between your trembling thighs and nudges against your nether regions making your breath hitch in your throat as you stare at him completely stunned.

Your hands grab at his wrist, shaky and weak as you attempt to pull him off but he only stops terrorizing your poor little innocent heart when he hears footsteps approaching.

He pulls away, straightening his posture while you push yourself off the car slowly as if you were in a daze at the moment.

“Is something wrong?” It’s your father, concern laced in his voice as he gives you a protective glance and moves towards you all while giving the boy an odd look.

The black haired guy scoffs with a smirk. “Nah, was j’st talkin’ to her is all.” He says it in a way that’s either condescending, sarcastic or as if he wasn’t saying the full truth. It’s hard for your brain to decipher properly anyways as your eyes bore into the grass beneath you, looking at anything but him.

“I’d much rather prefer if you didn’t speak to my daughter, Jeff Mason.” Your father says and it’s only now that you’ve learned the guy’s name. Your eyes flicker up to his face only to find him already looking back and shyness gets to you, making you tear your gaze from his.

There seems to be a tension between your father and Jeff, a staring contest ensues for a few moments that begin to feel like hours until that man you’d heard speaking before church comes up to the three of you.

He forces a smile and puts a hand on Jeff’s shoulder, squeezing a little too tight. “Jeffrey here will be sure to do that. Won’t you, son?” There’s an underlying authority to his voice as he looks at Jeff who glares back silently before shaking his hand off and walking towards his motorcycle with not a single word to follow.

The middle aged man chuckles awkwardly and tries to make small talk with your father but it doesn’t do much, if anything it would seem your father didn’t like either of them and that made you more curious than it should have.

You walk around the car to get into the car without disrupting their— very tense and awkward —conversation, trying to ignore Jeff who’s standing by his bike with his eyes glued onto you.

“Hey, Mary.” He calls out and you blink a few times before turning to look at him. He grins, “Yeah, you.”

“That’s.. That’s not my name, Jeff.” You didn’t even mean to say his name. It just spilled out by accident, he repeats the way you say it on loop in his head immediately.

“Sure it isn’t.” He grins with a teasing tone and crosses his arms as he looks you up and down slowly, undressing you with his eyes but you’re none the wiser. He finally looks at your face and smiles wickedly. “I’ll see ya around won’t I, angel?”

Your hold on the handle of the car door tightens a bit at the way he says it, heart fluttering in your chest and your knees weak. You feel a little bold, taking a deep breath as you hold his gaze. “Are you implying you’ll come to visit more often?” You meant the church, it’s obvious in the way you say it that you meant it in a church setting. But Jeff is far too sick and twisted to accept it as just that and that alone.

He chuckles at you, an unfamiliar glint in his eyes. “Heh, y’gonna see me a lot more often than just here.”

#jeff mason x reader #jeff mason smut #creepypasta jtk #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x y/n #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x y/n #jeff the killer smut #jeff the killer #jtk x reader

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jedimaesteryoda · 2 months

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One trend I've noticed a lot lately in the speculation of Tyrion meeting Daenerys is how he'll influence her. The argument often is that Tyrion will encourage her more "fire and blood" destructive tendencies when they get to Westeros. However, this view is often one-sided as it's always about how Tyrion will influence Daenerys but never about how Daenerys will influence Tyrion.

"Daenerys, I am thrice your age," Ser Jorah said. "I have seen how false men are. Very few are worthy of trust, and Daario Naharis is not one of them. Even his beard wears false colors." That angered her. "Whilst you have an honest beard, is that what you are telling me? You are the only man I should ever trust?" He stiffened. "I did not say that." "You say it every day. Pyat Pree's a liar, Xaro's a schemer, Belwas a braggart, Arstan an assassin . . . do you think I'm still some virgin girl, that I cannot hear the words behind the words?" "Your Grace—" She bulled over him. "You have been a better friend to me than any I have known, a better brother than Viserys ever was. You are the first of my Queensguard, the commander of my army, my most valued counselor, my good right hand. I honor and respect and cherish you—but I do not desire you, Jorah Mormont, and I am weary of your trying to push every other man in the world away from me, so I must needs rely on you and you alone. It will not serve, and it will not make me love you any better." -ASOS, Daenerys IV

Daenerys is not the sheltered child Aegon was who Tyrion could easily manipulate as shown when she called out Jorah for trying to isolate her from other men. Even Tyrion admitted to Aegon, having never met Daenerys that "she is strong" and "fierce." Daenerys was more worldly at 14 than Aegon is at 16. Even as a small, frightened girl at age 13 in the beginning of the series, she had more street smarts than her adult brother Viserys and has shown to be a prodigy in the series. Tyrion would not be able to manipulate her easily, especially since would initially be wary of him for being a Lannister.

Tyrion at the end of the day would be serving as her subordinate, him being largely dependent on her. Tyrion largely is the way he is because of the toxic family he grew up in. The Lannister vision has no idea of a Good Society, it's just pure self-aggrandizement by any means necessary. As the adage goes, rot always starts at the head. The monarchs Tyrion served as Hand, Joffrey and Cersei, were both cruel, incompetent tyrants with senses of entitlement that outweighed their actual abilities. They also had no concept of the duties of a monarch to their subjects, and instead just abused their power over others, including sexually. The one who actually ran the show for the Lannister regime, Tywin, was a cold, abusive Machiavellian who brutalized the smallfolk and his children, seeing them as pawns in his schemes. Tyrion could be cunning and brutal, because it was both encouraged and necessary for the winner-take-all, dog-eat-dog world of the Lannister court. It was an environment designed to bring out the darker side of his nature.

However, since the beginning we saw hints of the lighter side of his nature such as when he gave emotional support to Jon and designed a special saddle for Bran. He even helped Catelyn when they were attacked by the mountain clans even though she kidnapped him. In A Clash of Kings, we see hints of Tyrion wanting to be something other than the cold Machiavellian like his father when he stands up for Sansa when Joffrey beats her, and he has Morec killed and Slynt sent to the Wall for killing Barra, wanting to "do justice." In A Dance with Dragons, he risks his life to protect Aegon and even in his lowest he looks out for Penny even though she is a complete stranger to him.

Daenerys is a foil to Cersei, whose ruling philosophy is expressed in the statement "Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?" Daenerys tries to live up to the image of an ideal monarch who protects the weak. She liberates the oppressed from slavery and tries to protect them, even performing acts like tending to those afflicted with the bloody flux herself, marrying someone she doesn't want and putting her plan of going to Westeros on hold to achieve peace. Working as Hand to Queen Daenerys, Tyrion may find himself in a change of pace in a different environment where for once his more positive tendencies are encouraged with his fondness for "cripples, bastards and broken things."

In short, in cutting himself off from his toxic family, Tyrion may actually find a new beginning in service to Daenerys. He's the Machiavellian polymath and court politician she needs, and she's the competent, idealistic monarch he needs.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #queen daenerys #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #tyrion lannister #house lannister #house targaryen #meereen #queen cersei #cersei

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mari-lair · 2 months

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YES!! Absolutely! Everyone sleeps on them.

They are so funny.

The way Kou is very judgemental of Akane is wonderful to me, he really just assumes shit about him?? He has a "my senpai is weirdo" view on Akane.

Which makes sense considering the kind of talk Akane has with him off manga?? Like bro, please -

But at the same time!!

Kou looks up to Akane, sees him as a dependable senpai, considering he was an option for guidance, putting him on the same panel as the brother he idolized and the supernatural whose power is knowledge, only stopped from asking for help because Akane was being crazy about Teru's bet.

So on a normal day he would see this "weirdo upperclassman" as someone helpful.

Which leads me to how Kou called Akane when Teru locked himself. HE CRIED TO AKANE OF ALL PEOPLE FOR HELP.

I also genuinely believe he thinks Akane is so cool! He got some awe going on considering how flustered he gets near him.

Honestly this mix of concerned cause he assumes Akane is a weirdo with insane tastes, and flustered cause he genuinely respects him/wants Akane to think he is cool, makes for a really funny dynamic.

Bro really blasts Akane while simultaneously having a kind of admiration for him.

And Akane? Akane also judges him a lot.

He looks down on Kou at times too, cause to be fair, Kou is very spaced out, and their world view does not align.

I will never forget the scene where Akane had to REMIND Kou that "Hey, your friend is dead. Get your priorities straight kid."

But he likes his spunk too, he is inspired by his determination, he wants Kou to succeed. I'm glad Kou goes to him for help cause Akane does like him, if he can help, he will.

He sucks at pep talks though, he comes off as very awkward when he tries to cheer him up.

He also understands Kou extremely well despite barely interacting.

He only scowled Teru after the brothers fought because he ALREADY KNEW Kou would protect Hanako.

Akane could also sense he has some kind of connection with Supernatural MItsuba, who I doubt Kou ever mentioned to him, he is always very silent about Mitsuba. So Akane must have noticed from body language alone?? My boy-

He sees him as a good kid, so much so he goes "you sure you're related to Teru?"

He also appreciates Kou's cooking skills.

bonus: this wonderful panel

#honestly feel free to rb with more panels of them interacting cause I love them #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk #jshk #kou minamoto #jibaku shounen hanako kun #minamoto kou #akane aoi #aoi akane #koukane #cause i love them in all flavors actually #my apologies for the wait anon i don't know what happened but i died and my ask energy only got revived today

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theysaidhush · 1 year

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I love.

-> Husband!Virgin!Yang Jungwon x Wife!Virgin!Reader

-> Things could have happened differently, but at the end of the day, no matter how, you're both meant to be.

-> Smut (p in v, non-graphic depiction of blood loss, graphic depiction of virginity loss, it's messy, body fluids, Jungwon creams his pants cuz you're too pretty, hands holding and yes it's a warning cuz it's sickeningly sweet, tits play ?, overall not what I usually do, this one is really sweet and not THAT kinky), angst depending on the point of view and that's why I'm so good at writing, misunderstandings but happy end ig ?

A silence that should have been heavy, but was nonetheless comforting, filled the beautifully decorated room. The subdued lights reflected on the glasses of wine the hotel had served you earlier, still full. What was there to celebrate ? Under different circumstances, on another day, perhaps even in another life, you would have gazed at your surroundings in wonder. The crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the walls lined with paintings far too expensive and precious to be displayed like this, the huge four-poster bed that didn't even occupy a quarter of the room and whose mere sight made you sleepy as it looked so comfortable. All this for you. For you and your husband.

"My husband…" you murmured half-heartedly, imperceptibly, as you contemplated the room you'd be living in for the next two weeks. Every young married couple's dream.

With a slow, hesitant, heavy step, you moved towards the patio door, your gaze lingering for a moment on the crescent moon already high in the sky. Stopping just in front of it, you raised your hand to the handle but hesitated. You hesitated again. Like all those times you'd hesitated. Hesitating to speak out, to let your loved ones know what you thought of the idea of marriage. But this hesitation had cost you your future. Your free will.

With a hand trembling with emotion, you grasped the door handle and opened it gently, trying hard not to disturb your husband. It was strange to think of this 19-year-old boy, with whom you'd grown up and been good friends, as your husband.

The sound of the door sliding open snapped Jungwon out of his thoughts, and he almost jumped back into his deckchair seat. He had laid back to contemplate his next move. What had been taken from him, what was left. And it was as Jungwon watched the clouds glide deftly across the sky, floating along without a care in the world and continuing their tireless cycle, that he realized how quickly time passed. It seems like only yesterday, when he was having fun collecting snails with you, you were only 8 years old. And yet, yesterday, he was in this very place, in this very spot, refusing to face you just hours after your wedding. How could he, he felt selfish for loving you when you'd been forced into this marriage. He felt miserable and opportunistic.

The minute you joined him on that beach, in your bathrobe, your pretty face lit up by the moonbeams, his gaze locked onto you. He could not help but find you beautiful, cherishing and appreciating every detail of your body, every imperfection, every difference. And your personality ? Oh, Jungwon had never met anyone like you. Every person is unique, but he fell for your uniqueness. He liked the way you smiled when you saw something cute, the way you always ordered the same thing at your favorite ramen restaurant, unwilling to change the dish for fear of not liking it; he liked the way you were honest with him, the way you always refused to share your bowl of popcorn when you were lying on the couch making fun of movie scripts and actors far too old to be considered attractive by young people of your generation. He loved every one of those things, he loved you. But how could you love him when you were now forced to spend the years to come by his side ? Jungwon felt like your own pair of handcuffs, pretty but constricting.

Your feet sank into the cool sand of your very own private beach, your gaze lost for a moment on the water-lined horizon, where the sky touched the sea, where the world seemed limitless. You could not help but frown at the magnificent landscape before you. You could not bring yourself to accept that behind this ring, which seemed to grip your finger like a vise, there was a whole other world. A world where people were not forced to marry their best friend. An infinity of possibilities that suddenly seemed far too attractive, but also far too stifling. The sea provided you with a lovely lullaby, the sound of the waves crashing on the sand, retreating each time, retreating into the sea, into their home, a little further away, always further away. The constant sound of the salty water reassured you, helping you to think rationally. It was your first time here, and it certainly would not be your last. Now you understood why yesterday, when you were waiting for him in your bed, primed and apprehensive, Jungwon had not come inside. He'd found a much better view here.

The latter, your husband, had turned around, looking at you with those beautiful eyes you loved so much. The dark night hid many things from you, but certainly not the almost ethereal beauty he graced you with. His straight nose, against which, when you were younger, you'd rub yours; his lips, which, at 15, had stolen your first kiss on the basis of a common agreement that, if you kissed someone, your best friend would be the best first person; his shiny, smooth, dark hair, like silk threads, which you'd always envied, where you loved to slide your fingers. Everything about Jungwon was overwhelming, how could a human being be so beautiful ? Maybe your opinion was biased, but it did not matter, he was your Jungwon, in your eyes he was the number 1. So what could have changed in the space of a few days ? No, you knew. It was yesterday that everything had changed. When, after two hours of waiting, you had clumsily slipped on a pair of pyjamas over your prettiest underwear, your eyes glistening with tears, a feeling of humiliation and guilt gnawing at your stomach and lulling you to sleep. Everything had changed when you realized that your best friend was in the same boat as you but that he was not interested in you.

Lying down on the sand, right next to his chair, you tried hard to keep your eyes from turning in his direction. He could see all your doubts, all your weaknesses, that fragility and humility you'd carefully hidden the night before after falling asleep in a cold, empty, loveless bed, cuddling and curling up on yourself. And yet, if you'd looked at him for even a second, your heart would have started beating fast and hard, filling with love at the mere sight of Jungwon's gaze. His narrowed and cat-like eyes looking at you with so much love, so much respect, that even an idiot would have realized the nature of his feelings for you. You would have seen the way his lips parted as he could not close his mouth at the sight of your beauty, your make-up-free face, your hair awkwardly tied back. Maybe you'd even have seen the way he bit his lip as his gaze traced your curves, lingering for a second too long on the cleavage provided by your bathrobe, or your bare legs stretching out in a way that was far too sensual for his eyes on the sand. If you'd concentrated, you'd have heard the way his breath had stopped for a moment when he'd had a whiff of your perfume, the way his breathing had been slightly erratic when you'd sat so close to him, giving him a perfect view of your upper chest

"Jungwon…?" you called his name in a whisper, fearing that this dreamscape would shatter like a picture frame if you spoke too loudly. Fearing that the wind would carry that name to someone's ears, even though you were alone for miles around..

He stopped himself from jumping and hastily turned his gaze to the sea before discreetly clearing his throat and answering, "Hum ? Yes ?"

"Are you in love with someone..?" The phrase had escaped you. You felt as if your ears and heart were closing, dreading his answer, your breath catching in your throat as you sharply inhaled the suddenly far too salty sea air. Jungwon was talented, handsome, kind, considerate. Undoubtedly someone worth his time and attention had fallen for him, someone Jungwon loved in return but whom he would now be unable to see because of you.

Jungwon seemed to short-circuit, his brain hastily searching for an answer. One that would suit you both. Should he tell you the truth ? Or lie to you ? How would you react, how would you look at him in the years to come, if he told you that he, your best friend, someone you were supposed to trust, loved you ? had betrayed you ? He would not be able to look you in the eye for fear of the look you'd give him.

The silence was heavy. For an instant, a fraction of a second, the only thing you heard was the huff Jungwon not so discreetly let out. One that indicated that he did not know what to say, how to say it, but that you had interpreted differently. You must have been annoying, asking him questions about his private life, right ?

"I love."

His confession made no sense. But, at this point, nothing made sense. The whole fiasco, that white dress and suit, those guests who did not care why or how you got there. This masquerade made no sense, so you might as well have made no sense at all. Your words could be empty words, your promises just words, and your actions just means to an end. Just because the world went round did not mean you had to do the same. You had the right to make mistakes, to hesitate, to hate each other, but certainly not to love each other, if your jet-haired friend's response was any indicator.

"Oh-" Your voice cracked and tears filled your eyes. You could blame him for the situation you were in, he was not to know that he'd just destroyed the wall you'd spent the previous night carefully constructing, stolen what little hope you'd hidden there and crushed it under the weight of those two words. You had to be quiet as your tears rolled down your cheeks, red with embarrassment. You lowered your head, choosing to watch and play with the fine sand beneath your fingers.

Jungwon knew you well. Maybe even too well. He knew your every manner and habit. How you liked your coffee, your morning and night routines, the specific ways you interacted with each of your friends. Sometimes he found it frightening, found himself frightening. But he had to know your likes and dislikes to keep a smile on your face every day. Unfortunately, Jungwon was also familiar with the sound of your voice when you were in emotional distress. He had a kind of radar programmed just for you, telling him when you were feeling sad, when you were crying.

He rushed to your side, almost knocking over the deckchair in his haste, and knelt down in front of you. He had no shame in putting himself in front of you like that. So vulnerable. He'd get down on his knees and kiss your hand every morning when you woke up, if you wanted him to. His hands flew over your face, not knowing where to rest or how to comfort you, since he had no idea why his words had affected you so much. He'd spent a whole day avoiding you, and before that a whole month before the wedding, just so he would not see that look on your face. But it seemed he'd failed, because when he put his hands on your cheeks and lifted your face to get a better look at it, the sight of your swollen red eyes greeted him, beads of water still dripping from your beautiful eyes. "Please, don't cry." he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion as his eyes sought yours, hoping to see that familiar glint of mischief that was usually in your gaze, "Please…"

It had been years since you'd heard Jungwon sound so vulnerable. You felt as if his fingers were touching you as if you were made of the most fragile precious stone, affectionately caressing your cheeks as he caught your tears with his thumbs, wiping them away again and again, tirelessly, until there were none left at all. He held out his heart to you, presented it to you, entrusted it to you and did not even ask you to take care of it, because he knew there was no need to. Jungwon was vulnerable in front of you, just as you were. Awkwardly, yes, but without shame or embarrassment. Just two friends who found comfort in each other's presence.

"I love-" you let out a strangled sob and grabbed his sleeves, clutching them tightly in your hands, afraid he'd leave you and only come back in the wee hours. The simple sensation of his shirt beneath your fingers was reassuring, anchoring you in this reality that sometimes teetered between nightmare and dream. It was comforting, but you could not help thinking that it was all you'd ever get from him. Comforting words whispered that night on this beach, under the gaze of the moon and the sea, fingertip caresses that would haunt you until maybe one day you found love. Until you loved someone who was not Jungwon, your best friend, your husband. "I'm sorry, I- this isn't what I wanted…" you breathed in deeply, whispering the last two words with a sorrow that brought tears to Jungwon's eyes "…for us."

"Why are you apologizing ? I'm not blaming you, nor do I blame myself. It's not our fault." he said, sitting down beside you and engulfing you in a comforting, warm embrace. He tried to ignore the feel of your body on his, the feel of your chest pressed against his ribcage, the sight of your legs folded up right in front of him, so close, so tempting as your robe parted, teasing him with a glimpse of your upper-thigh. He swallowed, choosing instead to look at your face. You were looking at him, contemplating him, with such admiration and adoration that Jungwon felt his heart topple in his chest. Perhaps you could hear his erratic beating, the song he was playing just for you.

"But you love."

"Yeah, I love."

You stayed like that for at least five minutes, staring into each other's eyes, trying to convey through your gaze what you could not put into words yourself. Intimate words that refused to leave the hollow of your throat, that hung on the tip of your tongue. Words of love you were too afraid to say out loud, the only thing your eyes could not communicate, that you did not grasp.

Jungwon cups your cheek, resting his forehead on yours and closing his eyes as his arm wraps around your waist. He wanted to tell you so many things, but above all, he wanted to kiss you madly. Just a taste, a flavor of you, of what your lips could taste, he wanted just one bite, just one. Then he'd live with himself and leave you alone. He could make that selfish choice, just once, couldn't he ?

His hand left your cheek and rested on the back of your neck, that familiar warmth bringing you a little comfort in the middle of the nowhere you'd been sent. You watched him frown, approaching and then moving away from your face, in conflict with himself, with what his heart wanted and what his head dictated. The rest of his actions, you knew, you'd known him since you were in diapers, he was your best friend. But you refused to take him away from this person he loved, you wanted to kiss someone whose heart belonged to you.

But suddenly, you rested your hand on his chest, and you did not need to speak anymore. You knew. You recognized that familiar rhythm his heart was playing, it was the same as yours, the same chords, the same notes, the same intensity.

"I waited for you yesterday…" you revealed, trying to pull away from him in a vain attempt to hide your embarrassment at your confession. But Jungwon could never get enough of your flushed cheeks, your shifty gaze as you confessed something you thought you'd never tell him. Thus, you could only move your face a few centimeters away, just enough for him to admire you as if you were the most beautiful work of art.

He giggled, like the 19-year-old young adult he really was, a boy just out of his teen years, and his eyes formed a crescent, crinkling adorably as his lips stretched into that smile you loved so much. "Ah, I'm a little ashamed to admit it…"

You tilted your head, a small smile stretching your lips at the sight of his embarrassment. There he was, the Jungwon you loved. Although much of the unspoken still loomed large in the atmosphere, something had changed. A mutual understanding had put aside your evasive glances and awkward touches. You were no able to look at each other, your eyes still glistening with the tears you'd shed.

"I was scared. I was so nervous…"

"Oh." you laughed awkwardly, trying to move further away from him. But he only followed you, rising from his cross-legged position and bending over his knees, towering over you by a few inches as he looked down on you, the shadow of his hair preventing you from seeing that dangerous gleam that had lit up in his eyes. Each time, you took a step backwards, trying to crawl a little further away from him - not because you were afraid or uncomfortable, but because you liked this game you were playing. And each time, he rose a little higher, leaning on his knees and following you, his hand on the back of your neck in a firm but loving grip, his other hand always settling on yours even as you pulled away. Soon enough, he was on top of you, tilting your head as he towered over you. You could not help laughing at the striking resemblance with a cat. The mischievous look, the stance, you could easily imagine a tail wagging behind him, so much so that you felt you were the prey he was toying with.

"But…" He brought his face close to yours, his face amused, and his lips brushed yours. Against them, he whispered, "I love."

Hesitantly, almost shyly, he placed a soft kiss on the corner of your lips, then on yours. Once, twice, before he grew confident and crushed his mouth to yours, supporting his weight with one hand and pressing down on your head to get you closer to him, to encourage you to do as he did, to lose yourself in the pleasure. As he grew more confident, his kisses gained in intensity. He tilted his head to one side, encouraging you to do the same, before pushing his tongue against your lips. But all of a sudden, he drew back, panting, his eyes round. He was surprising himself. He wasn't educated like that. Maybe he was forcing you to do something you did not want to do. He regained his breath and opened his eyes, gauging your reaction to his actions.

And God, he was a virgin but he felt like he could have cum on the spot. You were a sight. Your barely opened eyes looked up at him, a mist swimming in your irises, and Jungwon knew just by looking at you that your brain was struggling to process what had just happened. His gaze continued to run over your cheeks, as red as the sweetest apple, whether by effort, embarrassment or excitement, he could not tell, before continuing on to your lips. Lips he could have tasted and could now never have enough of. At last his gaze slid over and lingered on your chest, which kept rising and falling in a rapid rhythm, the swelling of your breasts and a glimpse of your bra visible as the bathrobe had slipped over your shoulders as you moved backwards. Jungwon felt like a pre-pubescent teenager as he felt his erection swell in his beach shorts, making him move uncomfortably on top of you. Just looking at you had turned him on, would you let him touch you ?

"Jungwon…" you gasped, moving your face forward in a desperate attempt to capture his lips once more. He looked at you with what seemed like wonder and you whined like a child, clutching his shirt with one hand as you held yourself up with the other, "Wonnie…"

"Ah~." He crushed his lips to yours in a kiss that made you blush like a teenager before once again sliding his tongue over your lips, asking permission to go further even though he had only one desire which was to grab your jaw and force his tongue into your mouth. There was something so exciting about the idea of urging you to accept him body and soul, to mold you while cherishing and respecting you, in the sole hope of seeing that expression again and again. Between kisses, when he needed to catch his breath, he'd repeat over and over again, "I love… So much."

"Me too, I love- Wonnie, please…" you begged, you complained, you whined. At this point, you no longer knew what you wanted. You felt like you were floating, on a boat, alone, on the open sea, while the waves were steady, rocking you under a sun that made you feel warm. But you did not need to know what you wanted, Jungwon would know for you, he'd give you what you wanted and more than that, you could surrender yourself to him, offer him your body. All you had to do was look at him with those pretty eyes of yours. This whole marriage thing seemed like a shadow of the past. This story that had definitely changed something in your dynamic with Jungwon, that had caused you so much pain. That made you love each other in a different way than if it had never happened. For one night, you could forget that you'd been forcibly married to your best friend.

"Can I..?"

"Yeah..."

Panting, he pressed his mouth against yours, leaning on his forearms so he could feel you up close. He wanted to press his body against yours, to feel you underneath him, to know that you were real, that it was really you underneath him. He wanted to feel your skin against his, feel your limbs tremble as his hand caressed them, never lingering too long, wandering all over your arms and neck. He wanted to feel your heart beating in unison against his, feel your curves against his, the swell of your chest against his, that chest he'd often stared at when he was just a hormonal teenager watching his best friend's body change.

This time, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, hesitant at first. His moist pink muscle felt like an intruder, yet you could not help but think that this was the place where it had always belonged. The dance your tongues were doing wasn't a masquerade or a ball, it was more like a nightclub, hot, awkward, needy. Your muscles intertwined, touched and teased each other, giving each other no respite. You felt things you'd never felt before, your body, your emotions, the sensation of his fingers sliding down your neck, tracing a necklace you weren't wearing, everything was overwhelming, but in a good way. So underneath him, you could only gasp and sigh as he made you feel so good just with his mouth. Maybe saliva was running down your chin, maybe you were both out of breath, but none of that mattered, you could not care less. Your eyes closed as he tilted his head, almost pushing his tongue down your throat, devouring you whole in a way that would have seemed disgusting to anyone who saw you, but you could not help but blush, feeling complete, at home.

Your hands grabbed handfuls of the fine sand you were lying in and you clenched your fists, trying to ground yourself in reality. Jungwon drew back for just a few seconds, moved away from you and admired you, his gaze gliding over your hands. Delicately, he placed his free hand on yours, and you looked at him in wonder as he smiled at you, as if you were worth more than all the gold in the world. Ever so delicately, his fingers caressed your wrist and then your palm, timidly, as if he were still a four-year-old who only wanted to hold his crush's hand. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, once again, for what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening. You felt so loved. Gradually, your grip loosened, the sand slipped through your fingers, dripping onto the beach, as Jungwon intertwined his hand with yours, the sound of your cold rings touching each other resonating imperceptibly in the air.

"I don't really wanna talk about this whole situation." Jungwon said before kissing your closed eyes, pursuing "But- It hurts. I just don't know how we ended up like this." He kissed your cheeks. "But I don't want you to feel like you're stuck in this." He kissed your lips and you parted your mouth, letting him in. He conveyed his feelings through a loving kiss and then pulled away, breathless, stars in his pretty eyes. "I don't know if it's the right time, the right place, but I know that you're the right person. I love." You opened your eyes and tears rolled down your cheeks as you tried to muffle a sob. Carefully, lovingly, he kissed it away. One by one, each one, while caressing your hand with his thumb, squeezing it, letting you know that he was here. Here for you, here with you. "All this time, those years. I've always loved you, appreciated you, looked up to you. You seemed so far and yet so close…" He pressed his forehead on yours, kissing you from time to time, capturing your sobs. "I love you. So much."

Your gaze was lost. Your eyes, fixed on the sky, reflected thousands of stars. You were so afraid, so afraid of the feelings you were experiencing, of how powerful they were, of Jungwon's influence on you. You felt like a doll, a puppet that would act according to its owner's wishes. But as you looked up at the stars tonight, the day after your wedding, you realized that maybe you wouldn't like it any other way. If it was Jungwon, you could afford not to be your own master. You brought his hand to your heart, still not looking at him as you gently slid your entwined hands under your robe, letting him feel your lingerie with his fingertips.

"You were my first kiss." you said breathlessly, letting out a small laugh with your voice knotted with emotion.

"You were mine too." he whispered smiling, not moving his hand an inch.

"The first person I ever held hands with."

"You were mine too."

"The first person I ever hugged."

"You were mine too."

"And now you're my first and last husband."

"I hope so."

"I want you to be my first everything. Jungwon, please-" you exhaled a breath you were holding, bringing his hand to your mouth and kissing delicately his fingers, "Make love to me. Love me."

"I'll be your first and your last."

With all the love he had for you, he kissed your jaw and gradually moved down to your neck, whimpering every time his lips were kissing your skin. He was so happy to be there with you. Maybe it wasn't the first time the two of you had hoped, Jungwon even thought he was in a nightmare. But he'd be all right if he shared that nightmare with you, wouldn't he ? His kisses traveled down to your chest, stopping at the piece of cloth that hid you from him. He looked at you and did not even need to ask if you were sure of this choice, your gaze told him everything. Your eyes looking at him, a galaxy swimming in your irises, reflecting his image, the love you felt for him.

He straightened up and straddled your hips, careful not to hurt you. His hand moved to your cleavage and gently opened the piece of fabric, revealing your breasts covered in your modest lingerie, which, while not sexy, seemed to be the most sensual thing in his eyes. The previous him, the awkward, cute, hormonal teenager had already dreamed of seeing you in so few clothes, had dreamed of his best friend in ways that would surely have made you run away. But now, here you were, lying in all your splendor, just beneath him under the attention of his loving hands and mouth. His dick twitched in his shorts and Jungwon inhaled sharply, unused to feeling this strange feeling so strongly. He wanted to love and respect you, but he could not stop thinking about things, what he could do with you, how he could please you and vice versa. You were beautiful, the curve of your breasts excited him, making him want to grab them and never let go. He wanted to leave thousands of kisses on your stomach until he reached that part of you you'd never shown to anyone.

"It's- I'm so sorry, so many thoughts racing in my head right now, I really wanna make you feel good. I wish that I'd be better."

"I love it. I love you the way you are, I love the fact that I'll be your first. I want us to experiment, to make mistakes, to learn, together."

He frowned. You were so nice to him. He looked at your breasts once more and felt he'd never be able to take his eyes off them when he saw your two nipples poking through the fabric of your bra. Both his hands rested on the roundness of your breasts while his thumbs rested on your nipples, pressing on it, testing the water.

"Ah~, it feels…weird? I like it, Wonnie."

He nodded, never taking his eyes off your breasts, and finally decided to remove the fabric that prevented him from feeling your curves in the palm of his hands. One by one, he removed your straps, and you arched your back so that he could unfasten the ties of your bra. He tried hard to concentrate on the task in hand, but the sight of your breasts pushed up was far too distracting. It took him at least two minutes before he finally succeeded, which made you let out a little laugh. He looked at you and frowned, pinching your tummy, making you laugh even more. He smiled, then turned his attention back to your now exposed breasts. For him to see.

Just like a person having sex for the first time, he was unable to restrain his desire and haste as he almost rushed to your chest. Attaching his mouth to one of your nipples, as he'd seen a man do in a porno he'd watched, he sucked on it and pulled away, licking at the flesh like a kitten lapping up its milk. He glanced at you, trying to see if you liked what he was doing, and was granted with the sight of your face puckered from the raw pleasure you were feeling. Your head thrown back, your eyes closed, your breath short, a blush making its way to your face and neck. He occupied his other hand kneading and teasing your other nipple with his fingertips, tugging on it, rolling between his fingers, trying to ignore how painfully hard he was, his penis stretching in his shorts and pressing uncomfortably against the tissue. He really wanted to touch himself, he knew that just by looking at you he would cum on the spot. But he had to make you feel good first.

"Wonnie, I want you there." you whimpered, trying to rub your thighs together in the hope of soothing the throbbing between your legs. He failed to hear you, too lost in the sensation of your flesh in his mouth, your nipples rolling on his warm tongue, so you tried to push his head away from your chest, grabbing strands of his hair and trying to pull on them. "Wonnie~!" A high-pitched moan left his mouth and he stepped back at last, his gaze lost, as if he were the one being pleasured. But for Jungwon it was just the same. Worshipping you and your body was apparently a big turn on. It was an interesting discovery, but not surprising to him.

"What-?" he asked, completely lost, his hands still groping your tits as if he was afraid they would disappear.

"I'm- It's so wet, please ? Wonnie pretty please ?"

His big almond eyes widened as he lowered his eyes to where he was sitting. Did you really want him ? Him, and nobody else ?

Your gaze, almost covered in mist, oblivious to your surroundings except for the stars above you, lingered on the form peeking out of Jungwon's shorts and you almost choked. He was hard. The outline of his length was visible through his shorts, and if he sat and leaned into you, you could feel it on your stomach. You could feel his dick on you. You let out an almost pornographic moan, the mere idea of his bulge touching you turning you on wildly.

Jungwon twisted his upper body, lowered your legs, which were crossed behind him, and stepped back until you could sit up and untie the belt of your bathrobe. He looked away respectfully as you removed the last of your modesty, tossing it somewhere in the sand. Once you shyly called his name he turned and darted toward you again, threading a hand through your hair as he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

"Wanna go in the bedroom ?"

"Nothing about us- about this is normal, I don't want my first time to be normal either."

He nodded and held the back of your head as he led you back on the sand, smooching your lips before parting your legs. He made sure your bathrobe was stretched below your waist to avoid any mishap and got a brief glimpse of your glistening pussy. He swallowed nervously and quickly looked away, well aware that he was torturing himself by looking at you, his dick reminding him all too well.

"Plus, the sky is beautiful tonight."

He looked at you in awe, telling himself that you were so much more beautiful than the sky, that he only wanted to look at you as he made love to you. He took your hand and placed a kiss on your fingertips.

"I don't know how this is supposed to work I just want you, right now, inside."

"I don't want to hurt you." he said doubtfully as he took off his shirt, leaving you drooling at the sight of his magnificent torso, his smooth, milky beautiful skin.

You were at a loss for words for a few seconds, your brain refusing to process the words he'd just told you, so engrossed were you in the man in front of you. Eventually, you whimpered, a frown present on your face, disgruntled and embarrassed as you avoided his gaze, murmuring in a barely audible way, "It's already…ready. I'm ready for you…"

"Are you sure?"

"Hum." you nodded, fidgeting with the hem of his shorts, sometime tugging at it with how desperate and needy you were becoming as the second were going by. He glanced at you before focusing on your private part, sliding his hands down your belly, his hand stopping just inches from your cunt. He gave you another look before moving his fingers timidly to your pussy, stroking it delicately, gathering a significant amount of moisture on his fingers. You arched your back with a moan, then thrust your hips towards his hand, demanding more. You felt like all your senses were on alert, you were so sensitive.

He moaned at the sight but suddenly froze, his gaze locked on your pussy as his face contorted into an expression of pure pleasure. You were too lost in the pleasure you'd just felt with the caress of his fingers to notice the growing stain on Jungwon's shorts, the mortified and ashamed expression on his face and his rapid breathing.

Jungwon gradually got off his high, panting as if he'd just run a marathon. His gaze turned to his shorts and he restrained himself from hiding his face in his hands at the realization that he'd just cum just by touching your pussy. He hastily discarded all evidence and yeeted his shorts away from you, standing in all his naked glory in front of you, his length already hard again. How could he not when you were in front of him in all your naked glory ?

"I'm ready too."

Your eyes opened wide as they landed on his glans dripping with a liquid you assumed was pre-cum. You bit your lower lip and held back a moan, your hips pushing toward his, your hole pulsing uncomfortably, craving to be filled as another wave of clear liquid coated your walls, preparing you to be penetrated.

Jungwon could not hold his smirk at your expression of neediness and decided not to make you wait any longer. He grabbed your hand again and placed a kiss in its palm, intertwining your fingers before pinning it next to your head, leaning over you, looking into your eyes and kissing you lovingly. "I love you."

Experimentally, he pressed his cock against your cunt, inhaling sharply at the feeling of your wetness on his length, trying hard to control his breathing so as not to cum again. You sighed with contentment at the pressure his member exerted on your clitoris, then gave a stroke with your pelvis, urging him to continue. He buried his head in the hollow of your neck, squeezing your hand as he began to move back and forth, wetting his dick in an effort not to hurt you when he finally put it in. With each stroke you felt his tip rubbing deliciously against your ball of nerves, giving you the impression that someone was boiling hot water in your lower belly. You could not help alternating your gaze between the sky and the magnificent boy towering over you. You were both a whining mess, holding and clutching each other's hand, stopping some time to catch your breath as you were so focused, that you forgot to breathe.

"A-Ah, I'll put it in." he stuttered, looking down in order to grab his dick and put it in the right hole. Despite what he saw in pornos, apparently first time were clumsy and messy, he did not wanted to ridicule himself in front of you. The simple sensation of his hand on his hard-on felt like thousands of needles tingling his skin in a delicious way, so he tried to hurry. He searched with the tip of his dick for your warm, welcoming entrance and then found it and positioned himself. From where you were, both literally and metaphorically, you could not see his hand shaking nervously or the way he was biting his lip, clenching his jaw so hard that veins were visible along his neck.

Finally, he penetrated you, but very gently. Just the tip. Your vagina stretched and a strange feeling took hold of your guts, it was the first time something had entered that part of your body, it was strange. But you were not in pain yet, your slick had prepared you for his ministrations, and he had wet his dick. Jungwon suddenly closed his eyes and buried his head in your neck, breathing heavily, his hand gripping yours in an almost deliciously painful way.

"Ah, wait, 's too much-" he whimpered, staying still.

And so were you. It was scary to lose your virginity after all the stories you'd read. Some women felt pain, others did not, you were afraid of the sensation of his member in you. Were you going to feel good ? Or were you going to be in pain ? You tried to get rid of the pressure you were feeling and cracked a joke, "You're not even halfway in.", but it backfired.

As he gently pushed a little more of his length inside you, he chuckled, breathless, "Yeah and you already make me feel this good- What are you doing to me..?"

Jungwon's moan reached your ears before you knew what had happened. You'd felt your vagina clench at the sound of his words, a sense of pride and adoration fueling this feeling in your body, and the next second you felt a warm liquid flowing inside you, dripping on your inter-thighs and onto the bath robe.

"D-Did you just-"

"Shh. Don't say a word, I literally wanna bury myself in the sand right now."

You chuckled lightly, using your free hand to get his hair out of his face as you kissed his sweaty forehead. Your cute husband was trying really hard. You tried to get a better look at his face and fidgeted on the spot, only to stop, a cry stuck in your throat at the sensation of his dick pushing against your hymen. You felt like something inside you was being torn apart, the same burning sensation you felt when you cut your fingertip on a sheet of paper.

"Ah~! Don't move, it's still hard !" Jungwon moaned in your ear, worried, nibbling at your ear lobe as tears were streaming down your face. "Do you want me to stop ?"

"No, I- I'll like it, please, Wonnie, please give me more !" you whined grabbing the hair on the back of his head.

He pulled away from you and watched your face tense and tears flowing, then kissed them one by one. Just as gently as the way he pushed his penis inside of your tight and virgin hole. "I love you, I really d-do, thank you so much."

Suddenly he stopped and exhaled heavily, a strain smile on his face as he was looking at you.

"Is it-"

"It's all in."

You nodded and inhaled deeply, clutching his left hand that was still holding yours as you rubbed your head against it, as if for comfort. Jungwon blushed at the sight and you felt his member twitch inside you, making you look at him with round eyes. You did not know it could move.

"I can't help it, you're too beautiful… Can I ?"

"Mm-hmm."

Gently, as if testing the waters, he drew back his pelvis and moved it forward again, just as slowly. The sensation of your gummy walls enveloping him like this made him feel as if he'd just consumed the strongest drug. Except that you were his drug, his heroin, he definitely could not let you go after seeing you like this underneath him. No.

You, on the other hand, could not bring yourself to enjoy the sensation of the tip of his dick dragging across your walls, the feel of his veins rubbing all the right places in your body. The lacerating sensation from earlier remained, like the smell of bread in front of a bakery, it was faint, but present all the same. But just as the smell fade as you move away, so did the pain as he moved languidly in and out of you, whispering sweet nothings and gathering every saline pearl in the hollow of his lips. His other hand caressed your body from side to side, sometimes stopping on your chest, sometimes caressing your ribs, sliding through your hair. You never knew where it was going or when it would stop, but it served as a good distraction when Jungwon's urges made him buck his hips a lite bit too hard unwillingly.

While Jungwon was having a blast from the start, bathing in the sensations he was feeling through his dick, swearing a few times that your vagina seemed to suck him in every time he pulled out a bit too far, you, on the other hand, were slowly but surely starting to feel good. Just as your pitch and whimpers were becoming higher and louder, Jungwon pace was fastening. Maladroitement, at some point, you tried to have more of what he was giving you by pushing your hips forward, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other echoing in the empty night, the only witness being nature itself. Jungwon held himself above you, looking into your eyes every time he pushed his hips a little harder or a little faster, trying to find out if you liked it, if you liked him, if he made you feel good. But also in order to see the expressions you'd make, especially loving the way you'd close your eyes and frown when he hit a particularly erogenous spot. Panting, feeling your walls tighten around him if possible, he lowered his gaze to the place that linked you. His cock was covered in a mix of your juices, sperm coating it or splashing onto his pelvis each time he desperately pushed his dick deep inside you again and again. Added to this mix of fluids was the evidence of your loss of virginity, but Jungwon was way too far gone to even notice, way too desperate to make you feel good.

"Ah~ Wonnie, it's…weird. I think something's gonna explode. It-It feels so good !" you moaned, tightening your grip on his hand, turning your head so you could see your intertwined fingers, the light of the flames reflecting off your silver rings.

"It's good then."

He pushed his hips forward, finally not able to control himself, and almost slammed his lower body into yours, Resting his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes as you were falling apart beneath him, your mouth agape, your other hand gripping the sand as if it was your lifeline in a middle of a sea of pleasure, your back arching, pressing your boobs on his fit torso. Jungwon swore he'd never seen anything so beautiful.

Your pussy clenched around his member and he felt like he was suffocating, he felt like he'd rip off a piece of you if he moved as he felt every bit of flesh inside you. And he was only a young man, so the suction exerted by your cunt on his dick made him cum for the third time that evening.

He allowed himself to fall on you as you were milking him from the last drop of his cum, your right hand tangled in his hair as you were both trying to catch your breath.

You stared at the shining stars above the two of you, stroking his hair affectionately, your legs still shaking from your orgasm and your wet cheeks reddened by the overflowing emotions.

He pecked your lips and suddenly stood up, hastily slipping on his boxers and cringing at the feeling of his wet and soft dick on the fabric. Jungwon then stared at you, your body, and smiled. Not in a sexy way, he was not smirking, he was genuinely smiling out of pure love and adoration. You watched him do it, curious, before shyly covering yourself at his insistence, your gaze evasive but a smile on your lips.

He shook his head and let out a cute little laugh, the one you loved so much. He leaned over and grabbed your shoulders, sitting you up, then pulled his shirt on you before taking you in his arms to carry you inside. He set you down gently beside the huge bathtub in your far too large bathroom. He turned on the tap under your watchful eyes and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts, the burning pain between your legs and the realization of the situation. You'd just slept with your best friend, or rather your husband ? Despite your feelings for him, what happened, the word left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Jungwon returned, a bunch of clothes in his hands, your clothes, and threw them in the laundry basket. He bent down and tested the temperature of the water before nodding and turning to you, carrying you in his arms again.

"Tell me if it's not to your liking…" he whispered, lowering you into the water as you nodded.

"It's perfect." you exhaled, your tenses muscles relaxing thanks to the warm water engulfing your body. "You don't have to do all of this, you know…" you said hesitantly, fiddling with your fingers, too afraid or shy to look at him.

He took a cup of plastic and gently poured water on your hair, wetting your hair as he chuckled, as if you made the funniest joke ever. "I know, but I want to. I'm your husband now."

"My husband…"

He took the bottle of shampoo, poured some into his hands and began to massage your head gently, spreading the shampoo over your hair. "I would have done the same thing even if I weren't your husband. All this mess was just a good excuse, I guess. I've always loved you and even if it were in ten or twenty years we would have been in the same situation, because you are the love of my life and I would have married you anyway."

These words were like an arrow through your heart. When you thought you'd smile, the words were said with such honesty and nonchalance that the only thing you could do was hide your face in your hands as you began to cry with joy, comforted and lulled by the sweet music your heart was playing, soon joined by Jungwon's humming as he took care of you as he would have done in the future. With love. Him being your husband was not that bad apparently.

"I love you too, Jungwon."

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jungwon hard hours #jungwon smut #jungwon x you #jungwon x reader #enhypen hard thoughts #jungwon hard thoughts #took too long #-> N (like Pokemon yes) <-

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 10 months

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DP x DC AU idea:

Regent!Jazz

Having been ecto-contaminated since conception, Jazz is the most Liminal being in the world, which has her develop a proto-core. As in, death has about 30% claim on Jazz and every year it grows stronger the longer she lives above the portal.

Can Jazz walk through walls, disappear and fly? Sorta, occasionally, and no. It depends on how much Ecto she has in her system, otherwise she’s just got her inherent strength.

Jazz inherited the Fenton Law Loophole tendency.

She swaps out her psychology books for books on Realms Law, spends a week locked in her room with them in fact. It concerns Danny and co., because what is Jazz up to?

Jazz claims regency thanks to three factors:

1: Danny unconsciously views her as a third parent thanks to her raising him in a neglected household. She got him to fourteen before she looked away for a minute, ok?

2: Danny is a minor in both human and ghost culture, therefore he’s baby and needs time to grow up without bearing kingly responsibilities, right?

3: As mentioned before, Jazz is the most Liminal being in the modern age, with a slowly developing proto-core. This allows her to be able to not only survive the Infinite Realms on a long-term basis, but able to step up as Regent at all.

————

Sam and Tucker, while Liminal too (thanks to them getting flooded with it with Danny’s death) still have a ways to go in terms of contamination- give it a few more years in Amity Park and they’ll start to show more symptoms of death-claimed, though they’ll never be able to surpass Jazz. Not even Jack and Maddie Fenton could ever say that, considering they wear Hazmat suits daily that has limited exposure, but were also adults when first contaminated- the ecto would take a lot longer to bond to adult molecules than that of a just-conceived child.

Maybe Jazz even leeched off some of Maddie’s contamination in the womb? Whose to say.

Where does DC come in?

Perhaps the vivisection route? It’s a tried and true method of getting Danny to Gotham, but I raise you- Jazz essentially “kidnaps” Danny, taking him away from his haunt once she is Regent.

Gotham is a city drenched, drowning, in tragedy and therefore natural ectoplasm for a powerful Liminal and Halfa to survive on.

Lady Gotham welcomes the two eagerly into her city and directs Jazz to the soon-to-form Lazarus pit- corrupted ectoplasm, but nothing Danny can’t filter out with time, it’ll heal him and whatever happened to his core after being ripped away from his haunt.

It does cause a rift to form between the two, but Jazz is firm in staying in Gotham. Right on the edge of Crime Alley to be specific.

Here we can slide in Vigilante!Jazz, who is pissed off at the world and needs to work out some excess energy. Enhanced bone density means that Jazz doesn’t have to worry about screwing up her knees with a few ‘superhero landings’.

Liminalality means that she can sense the weird guy in the Red Hood whose territory she keeps crossing into while beating the crap out of some criminals and escorting the night workers home.

Revenant!Jason…

….possible Anger Management/Hardcover pairing?

[Im thinking about continuing this, but idk. I do have like a page written out with Regent!Jazz]

Masterlist

#dp x dc #jazz fenton #jason todd #danny phantom #dp x dc au #I want an anger management ship so badly

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piracytheorist · 1 year

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Oh BOI when I tell you this transition gave me shivers

This is a prime example of why spies like Twilight cannot afford emotional attachment, why their entire survival depends on them ignoring their own internal struggles.

Donovan Desmond is a force to be reckoned with; within minutes of meeting Loid, he shamelessly shares his corrupted views on humanity:

"It is simply impossible to understand what someone else is thinking. People will never be able to understand each other."

And that's why you're using force to bring other nations to their knees?

There you have Twilight; a man who lost everything in a war started by people who had the same way of thinking that Desmond has; a man who has sacrificed his own identity and chances of personal happiness in his mission to never allow others to suffer like he did.

The emotional investment is huge. He doesn't do it just because he thinks it's the right thing to do, he does it because he has first-hand experience of how much pain a war can cause. And he'd rather keep suffering if it means such pain won't be felt again by anyone else.

And yet, through all his internal turmoil, he has to look at Desmond and smile and agree with him. Him acting like the loyal Ostanian citizen who believes the Desmond group cares for the country is nothing compared to this transition. He goes from a man who is haunted by the traumas of his past to a beaming, hopeful man who indirectly endorses violence - the very thing that ruined his and many other people's lives - over understanding among humans

He has to become the exact opposite of what he stands for, become the kind of man like the ones whose actions ruined him. And the ironic depiction is not lost to the audience; his eyes are covered in shadows as we hear his inner thoughts, slowly getting brighter as he prepares his disguise, and finally getting back to the light when he fully dons it.

It's disturbing and it's wrong and it's the opposite of how it should be. Twilight may have made it his life's mission to never act on his emotions, but it's perfectly clear he does have emotions; he's just very good at willingly pushing them aside. And this depiction in that lighting is perfect to show how it's a necessary and conscious depravity of his own self that he has to partake in in order to survive and see his mission through.

It's brilliant. Disturbing, but brilliant.

(Anime only fan here, don't spoil me for the manga)

#Spy x Family #sxf meta #Loid Forger #I just!!#I love it both from a storytelling and an angst standpoint #cause we know that his end goal is a noble one #with relatable and respectful motives #but we are made aware of how much he ignores his own emotions #and how prepared he is to pretend he's everything he's not #and go against his own real self #how dark and how deep he's ready to go #he's a hero who casts no shadow - but who is FULL of shadows in his soul #500 #1k

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carolmunson · 1 year

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the nerve.

virgin!eddie x reader, semi-modern AU, it's the very early 2000s (early enough that the phantom menace would have already come out in 1999, but cellphones weren't really a thing yet.) i feel like we've been on a toxic!eddie train for a little so here's a little love drunk baby boy (in his late 20s) whose been about you for ages but the timing wasn't right. now you're together and it's time, but he's real nervous. this fic is mostly from eddie's point of view, so, hopefully you bitches like that. super fluffy, smutty, sweet. cute. tooth rotting even. warnings: smut, minors dni. couples first time, virgin!eddie, p in v, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving).

Eddie's hands are sweating when he pulls up to your house. A small little one bedroom he's been in so many times before -- cozy and soft, like you. You never have the overhead lights on, except for in the kitchen. Always opting for something warm and glowly, decorative. You told him a story once about how women used to put pink lightbulbs in their house so they'd look younger and he never forgot it, so now he tells people that story and says he learned it from you.

You hadn't been dating long, but he feels like he's been with you forever. You come so naturally to him -- years of friendship will do that to a person, he guesses. Spending those years watching you be with someone else, someone he didn't really know very well -- different town, someone you used to know in college with Nancy. When you showed up to Steve's after the break-up he was almost relieved but he felt awful about it. Feeling giddy while you cried into Nancy's shoulder and Robin rubbed your back. You thought you were gonna marry that guy -- how?! He didn't even like your favorite movie! He didn't even know how you liked your pancakes! Or how you lie about what your favorite song is depending on who you're with! (It's a tie between Nina Simone's 'New Day' and The Beatles' 'Blackbird' in case anyone was wondering.)

Getting here, coming to your house for dinner dates, taking you out, holding your hand, that was an easier task than what was to come. But it wasn't an easy road to get here for him either. He wasn't really great at the whole girls thing.

It's why he was was still blushy and nervous the night you came over to Steve's for a movie night. You all got snowed in. He knew you liked him and you knew he liked you but you weren't sure if you 'like' liked each other -- you'd never said. Neither of you had.

He stopped breathing when you'd sat next to him, sinking into the cushions of Steve's large L-shaped sectional with your knees brushing. Steve casting glances over at Eddie to implement at least one trick he taught him to get close to you. 'If she doesn't do it back then you know it's not happening, it's that easy.' It's that easy? He'd rather die than make a move and have you not be into it.

You were half way through The Empire Strikes Back when he noticed Steve knock Robin on the knee with his. Robin looked over at the two of you, knees and shoulders touching, hands to yourselves. Her lips curled into a mischevious smile when she realized what her partner in crime was asking from her.

"Hey," she whispered over to you, offering you a peach ring from the bag, "Want one?"

"Ooh, thank you," you whispered back. 'They're my favorite.' He thinks it as you say it to her, he knows they're your favorite, that's why he always picks them up at the gas station before he shows up to these things. The crinkling of the bag gets Nancy's attention and she casts a glance up at Steve from where she's settled in the crook of his arm. They share knowing looks, shaking her head while her attention goes back to the screen.

"You want one, Ed?" she asks, except this time her hand is much farther away, resting on the back of the couch so that he'll have to reach behind you to get one. Eddie looks at her, eyes begging, 'you're kidding'. Her eyes glint back in the glow of the TV, 'I'm not kidding.'

"Yeah, sure," he says shakily, reaching across the back of the couch. If you know what he's doing, you're not letting on and that's fine with him. He grabs the candy, popping it in his mouth and letting his arm rest behind you at first -- heart pounding while he moves it downward enough so that you can feel him drape himself around you. He can't look at you at all while he does it, terrified that you might be disgusted by him even attempting to be close to you.

He swallows when you turn to him, your knees pressing up to his thigh when you shift your hips towards him, feet tucking up onto the couch. Eddie turns slowly to see you looking up from his shoulder, eyes shining with a smile.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," you say back in a whisper, inching your face a little closer to him, "Can you tell me what's happening?"

He lets out an airy chuckle through his nose, "I always forget you haven't seen these, sorry we started with the second one."

"So, right now," he starts, pointing at the screen, "Harrison Ford's character--"

"Anakin," you say, certain of your answer.

"No," Eddie laughs.

"Qui-gon Jinn," you offer, as a new answer. "Oh my fucking God," he laughs, running a hand over his face in disbelief. He looks at you, toothy grin and all, "You don't know who Harrison Ford's character is, but you know the name Qui-gon Jinn?"

"It's very memorable," you say softly, laughing at yourself. He loves that about you -- you're very confidently wrong sometimes.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, "That's like, in the newer movies -- he's not even in the ones from the 80s."

"Oh -- is it Obi-wan?" you ask, "Or Luke?"

"You know you're the assistant editor for the Culture section, right?" he asks, his face inching closer to yours, "How do you not know about film culture?"

"More like nerd culture," you huff back, rolling your eyes. When you turn your attention back to the screen he feels you settle into the crook of his waist, scooching yourself closer to him. His hand falls to your shoulder, unsure if he should hold you the way Steve holds Nancy -- arm wrapped around with a hand resting on her hip. That might be better for another day when he was feeling more confident.

Your head finds a home on his shoulder and part of his chest, your hair smells like Herbal Essences and he only knows that because he started buying it recently. He holds his breath for a moment while you get comfortable against him. Eddie eases himself against you, hand around your bicep to pull you in closer.

"Harrison Ford is Han Solo," he says to the top of your head.

"No, he's Obi-wan," you mutter defiantly, brushing off his answer.

"Sure," he laughs, "You're right, he's Obi-wan."

He kissed you in the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed and you both stayed up talking over a six pack. You tasted like peach rings.

Once he parks in the drive way he gives himself a mini peptalk all the way to your door. It's not like it was your first date, which he'll admit went really well, but this was the date. You both felt it. With every kiss getting more feverish, every makeout getting more and more hot and heavy, every wandering hand and mouth -- he was gonna have sex with you tonight.

Which would have been fine.

If he wasn't a virgin.

He'd gone over and over it again with Steve. Tips, help, tricks, reassurance -- but all of it made him feel even more inexperienced. It took him three years to graduate high school and he wasn't exactly the most popular guy there. No one caught his eye when he threw himself into work at the auto-shop, even less at the craft store full of old ladies, and even less at the comic book shop where all he was, was surrounded by other vigrins who were ten years younger than him.

He was always too nervous to talk to girls at The Hideout or other bars his band played at. They were almost always more into Jeff and Gareth anyway. Smooth talking, suave, more confident with age -- he felt like he was behind. Regressing, even. More focused on his hobbies, his friendships, more focused on you. How you'd talk about work and whether you wanted to move closer to the city. How you'd hang out at the bar with him after a gig and listen with bright eyes while he told you what was coming next for the band. How you'd ask about the next campaign for the store's D&D club. Even if you didn't get it, you at least tried. Anakin, Obi-wan, Qui-gon Jinn.

He knocks and rings the bell, he can hear the thump! of Brutus, your old gray cat, jumping from the couch down to the floor getting ready to greet him. You appear, flushed and smiley, some of your hair stuck to your cheeks with sweat.

"Hi, sorry, the kitchen's kind of hot -- didn't get a chance to y'know -- get my shit together," you say, while the door opens. He swears his heart is going to come out of his mouth out of these days with how it rises in his throat when he sees you.

"You look pretty," he says, shrugging off his jacket when he steps inside. You press a kiss to his cheek but it's not enough. With his coat still in his hand he catches you with the free one, stopping you before you head back to the kitchen, to kiss your lips.

"Hi, baby," he says quietly. You grin, eyes downcast to the floor.

"Hi."

"How was work today?" he asks, finally stepping away to hang up his coat in your closet by the door. Brutus follows him with scraggly 'meows' and 'rahhs', weaving through his boots to get his attention.

"Work was worky. Nancy's bummed she didn't get that promotion but she'll be alright," you scrunch your nose in sympathy for Nance, drying your hands off on your jeans.

"She's got bigger things going for her anyway," Ed says, bending down to scratch Brutus behind the ears. The cat nuzzles his hand with a pleased purr, following him who was following you back into the kitchen. He looks at the pots and pans boiling and simmering, the light on in the tiny oven. Your kitchen and little and hasn't been updated since the sixties but you told him you prefer it. 'S'part of my charm,' you'd say. He thought all of you was charming.

"This is a lot, baby -- you didn't have to do all this," he pleads. He hates when you over work yourself, and you do it all the time. 'I just wanna impress you,' he thinks your response as you say it because of course you do.

"Everything you do impresses me," he murmurs, coming up behind you while you massage arugula for a side salad, "But I would've been more impressed if you called a pizza joint and placed an order."

"I can't make a phone call," you laugh, "I think it would kill me. I think I'd have a heart attack."

"Which is why I'm saying it would've been more impressive if you ordered a pizza," he says into your hair, leaning his head on your shoulder, "What can I do to make this easier for you?"

"Will you just set the table for me?"

Dinner was delicious. You made it for him, so of course it was. He likes this, snuggling on the couch, laying long ways, Eddie's head on your chest with your hands gliding through his waves. His eyes are fluttering closed and open again while the graze of your nails glides over his scalp. He totally gets why Brutus begs for scratches behind the ears -- this must be exactly what it feels like.

The hum of 'If I Only Had A Brain' leaks out of the TV speakers. This was culture you knew -- you'd seen The Wizard of Oz a hundred times over. He knows it's not your favorite movie, but it's up there, it's close. Your favorite movie is Grease and you don't lie about that to anyone. You got John Travolta's autograph once and framed it when you were little, he remembers you telling him that when you were drunk at karaoke. You sang 'Hopelessly Devoted'.

Then you made him come up and sing Summer Nights with you. He wished he would've kissed you then, but you had a few drinks and he thought maybe you were just feeling flirty. That you didn't like him like that. You wanted to kiss him when he hit the end high note, it still makes your heart race a little when you think about it.

"This is so you," you say, the sleepy hum of your voice vibrates against his ear. He furrows his brow and looks up at you.

"Excuse me? If I only had a brain?" he inquires, hand crawling up to press against your face in a fake smack, "That's mean."

You laugh, it's a sound he wants to be the one to cause for the long haul, "I don't mean you don't have a brain, I mean like -- look at him move. He's such a goofball -- you're like that, you're goofy."

He rolls his eyes, "Okay."

"In a good way!" you argue playfully.

"Oh look, it's you," he teases when the Wicked Witch appears on screen with her green hands and sneering glare.

"Did you know that she actually --"

"Couldn't use her hands to eat or drink whenever she had the makeup on because it was toxic?" he finishes, shifting his body so he was caging you in under him. He uses his free arm to nudge you onto your back, both of your faces hidden by his sheets of dark hair, "You told me."

"Oh," you blush, "Sorry. I always forget who I tell my little facts to."

"No, it's okay," he says softly, leaning down to kiss you, "It's very cute."

"You're very cute," you say back when his lips break away.

"Stop," he says with a giggle. Always so boyish when he doesn't mean to be.

He lets out a sharp exhale through his nose when you lean up to kiss him again. The kiss is chaste and sweet, your legs parting so he can comfortably slot himself between them. He's come to learn how much you like that type of friction and closeness. You like loosely wrapping your legs around him -- it's a thought he has often when he's home alone and thinking about you.

You deepen the kiss, hands finding his hair, tongue snaking into his mouth. Somewhere deep in his belly comes a growl, hips pressing up against yours eagerly. The softest, 'mm!' squeaks out of you at the pressure and he can feel the gentle roll of your hips against him. His heart hammers in his chest -- oh fuck, we're gonna actually do it.

Eddie's eyes flick up to see Brutus on the lounge chair looking at him. He looks back at Brutus, green eyes shining into his brown ones -- it feels...judgemental.

"Could we maybe go somewhere that Brute can't see this? I feel like the spirit of your dad is inside him," Eddie asks, still keeping his eyes on the cat.

You let out an airy laugh through your nose, "Yeah, sure, c'mon."

Your room smells like you, so do your sheets, your pillows. He loved being engulfed like this, he didn't think he could be any more in love with a person.

You follow him in and watch him sit on the bed, eager faced and flushed. He gulps when you take your jeans off, followed by your sweatshirt and socks.

"I just wanted you to see -- surprise!" you cheer quietly, looking back at him. The set was burgundy, made of satin, shiny. Slightly frilled on the ends. Underwear cut high and perfectly laid over the curve of your ass. The cups of the bra in that old timey balconette cut. You bought it on purpose, you bought it for him.

"Oh fuck," he mutters to himself.

"I didn't know if you'd like black or red more so I sorta," you shrug, "Met them in the middle."

"I don't care what color it is," he breathes out, eyes glassy and blown, mouth completely dry. How could you talk so casually to him when you look like this? How could you act like this wasn't a really big fucking deal to have worn a set for him to see? With him in mind? Like, you thought about him while you bought this? His jeans feel tighter by the second. He leans back on his hands on your bed to take you in, "You look -- insane."

"In the good way," he quickly follows up.

"You like it?" you smile.

"I really like it," he nods, gulping again, begging his voice not to crack, "C'mere, let me look at you up close."

He watches you approach him and sits up slowly, hands coming out to caress you. He puts his hands up to cup your breasts, thumbs dragging over the fabric of the bra, drifting down to your hips where he leans forward to kiss the side of your tummy, another by your ribcage, a third on your sternum. He looks up at you afterwards, awaiting your lips when you lean down to kiss him.

"You're so pretty, baby," he mumbles against your lips, "You're beautiful."

He swallows when you get him on his back, biting his lip when you straddle him over his jeans. You take your hair down, he blinks hard to make sure he's not dreaming -- that you're really on top of him, really in lingerie, really looking like that.

"Shouldn't um -- shouldn't I be on top of you?" he asks.

"What do you mean?" you ask with a giggle, "You don't want me to be on top?"

"It's just, like," he sighs, letting his hands rest on the outsides of your thick thighs, "Aren't I supposed to be in charge?"

"You're not supposed to be anything, Ed," you reason, pawing up his chest until you were flat against him. You kiss him but he stays rigid, his mouth rubbery and unmoving.

"You okay?" you ask, his chest pangs.

"Uh, yeah," he says, shaking his head. He racks his brain for anything Steve might've told him, any porn he might've watched. Sure girls were on top but like, they didn't like that did they? Didn't they like being thrown around? Slammed? Fucked? What do you like? Shit, how was he supposed to figure this out? Especially with you grinding your hips like that, slow and teasing -- fuck.

You tug at his shirt and he uses the moment to pull it off, scooching you off him to take off his jeans. Regular, clean, tartan boxers. He wished he'd worn something sexier -- like boxer briefs or something -- something that didn't look so ridiculous with a hard on.

"So we're doing this, right?" he asks, climbing back on the bed and laying you down on the mattress.

"Only if you want to," you smile at him, reaching behind you to snap the bra off throwing it on the floor. All the light in the room was from a single three wick candle on your dresser on the back wall but even then he could see the curves of your chest. The shape of your body under him. Your head hits your pillow and he sighs, using one arm to steady him and the other to glide over you, from your cheek, down your neck, landing on the swell of your breast.

"You're so perfect," he says softly, eyes lingering where his hand was resting. He kneads it gently and smiles when it earns him a small gasp. Your legs part again and he uses his knees to part them further.

You look up at him, a little confused, but part your legs further anyway. He sits up, leaning back to take your arms and pin them against your chest, falling back into his previous position. He kisses roughly, you oblige but it doesn't feel like him.

He bites at your lower lip, hard enough that you let out a whine but he takes it as the go ahead. He lets his mouth wander, nipping down your neck in harsh love bites with nothing to follow up to soothe them. His hand snakes into your hair with a sharp tug.

"Ow," you whisper, but he doesn't hear it. Too busy trying to make sense of this in his head. Is he supposed to lick a stripe up your neck before or after he bites? Is it supposed to be closer to your jaw? Where did he even see this? This would be easier if he wasn't achingly hard.

“Hey, hey, stop — stop,” you say sternly. Eddie recoils immediately, sitting back on his heels and shrinking into himself with a deep blush you can’t see in the low light. His eyes sting with embarrassed tears, adams apple bobbing while he tries to swallow them down. His heart is beating so hard he think it might shoot directly out of his chest. And how awful would that be? First he ruins sex and then he just bleeds all over you?

“What’s going on?” you ask, pulling your blanket up from the end of your bed.

“I just — I’m doing what I thought you might like?” his voice his tight, like he’s holding back a cry, “Am I not doing it right?”

“Ed, I just want you to be yourself,” you sigh. You reach out to him but he slinks away before you can, "You're like, trying to be the DM version of you right now."

"Yeah but he's like, hot and confident," Ed shrugs, "I'm just...Eddie Munson, resident virgin."

"I wanna fuck Eddie Munson, resident virgin," you state plainly. His cock twitches, he thought he might even cum from hearing you say that.

"And you won't know what I like unless you ask me, don't just guess," you instruct softly. He let's you reach back out and touch him, pulling him down to lay next to you. His hand skates over your tummy and he wraps an arm around you to pull you close. The smell of your perfume and shampoo engulfs him instantly -- his brain had to be shutting down at this point.

"This is all about communicating," you assure, "Do you think you like it rough like that? Like how you were doing to me?"

"Um, I don't know," he lies, because he does like that. He thinks he likes doing it and he thinks he'd like it being done to him.

"I like it," you confessed, "Just not right now."

"Oh," he blushes, "You like when I'm rough? Just not all the time?"

"Exactly," you smile.

"So what do you like tonight?" he asks awkwardly, "Or what would you like tonight?"

"Soft," you say, pressing a kiss next to his lips, "And gentle."

You kiss him again, on the lips this time, "You."

With a newfound approach he leans in to kiss you, this he knows he’s good at because Steve overheard you tell Nancy that you ‘never got so wet from making out before’ and that it ‘made you feel like you were in high school again’. He gasps when you break away to kiss his jaw down to his neck, his hand traveling up to get entangled in your hair.

"I really like when you kiss me there," he pants out, eyes rolling when you reach a spot on his neck right above his collar bone, "Fuck."

"There?" you grin against his skin, letting your tongue run over it again before sucking on the spot eagerly.

"Fuck, yeah there," he whines, hips bucking against your thigh. You maneuver him again, crawling on top of him and he succumbs to letting you take the lead. Your hips do that deliciously evil grind over him again, and he can feel how dampened your panties are over his boxers. Each drag of your hips pulls his skin over the head of his cock, sending him hurtling closer to cumming than he anticipated. He reaches feverishly for your hips, holding you to a stop.

"Too much?" you ask. Fuck, why are you so cute?

"A little," he confesses, breaths getting heavy, hips twitching.

"Sorry, I just...I'm really horny," you whisper with a giggle, covering your face with your hand like a visor. He giggles back, shimmying down so your heat was directly over him.

"We can...you know," he says, reaching up to move your hand and place it on his chest, "We can do it."

"You sure?" you ask again.

"I'm sure," he assures, heart still thumping with nerves. He watches you lean over him, breasts directly in his face, knocking his nose, while you fish in your beside table for a condom.

"I brought some, they're in my --"

"Too late," you say, gold foil packet in hand, offering it to him while you sit back between his legs.

"You're too confident in me," he says at the sight of the Magnum XL wrapper.

"I promise I'm not," you laugh, "I've seen a lot of dicks."

You both pause.

"I mean...you...fuck, you know what I mean," you smack your hand to your forehead, "Let me shut the fuck up really quick."

He takes the condom from you and tugs down his boxers slowly, while you help him take them the rest of the way down. He sighs while he reaches down to pump himself a few times before slipping on the latex. He catches your eyes round out when you see it, your soft swallow of the saliva pooling in your mouth.

Maybe you weren't too confident in him.

It was a little tight, if he was being honest.

"I'm gonna be on top, okay?" you ask. He nods, looking at you while you slide off your underwear, nerves building in his throat. Adrenaline coursed through him like he just did a line, like he just played a show. Like you just kissed in Steve Harrington's kitchen. Like when you tasted like peach rings.

You kiss him while you get back over him, sliding over his length with your lips. Your thighs twitch when the rigidness of the underside of his cock runs over your clit.

"Ooh, fuck yes," you mutter to yourself, face crumpling with pleasure.

"That's good? You like that?" he asks, hands resting on your hips while you continue toying with yourself over him. You nod, knowing you're wet enough to take him without foreplay, which will be a different conversation for a different day.

He squirms when you take his cock by the base, guiding the tip to your entrance. "Oh, fuck, fuuuuck me," he gasps while you start sinking down on him, "Jesus fucking Christ. Shit."

He watches you sink all the way down to the base, bodies meeting again. He feels you press your weight on your hands on his chest, eyes rolling when you adjust your hips, walls tightening over him.

"Baby, I -- you're -- Jesus," he gasps, a soft groan follows suit. "Oh my god, oh my god," he hears you whine, eyes begging when he looks up at you.

"Are you okay?" he asks, nerves overriding his pleasure, "I'm sorry."

"No, no, I'm okay," you breathe out, "It's just you, fuck, you feel so good."

"I -- I feel good?" he asks, "I'm making you feel good?"

You nod over him, hips dragging up slowly and then back down, little soft gasps and moans coming out of your mouth when you lean your head back. He watches you in awe, light bursting behind his eyes and sparks going off in his belly while you pick up the pace.

"I'm -- oh my god -- I'm not doing -- shit -- I'm not doing anything," he admits, "How am I -- oh god, oh god --"

You slow down, resolving to grinding your hips slowly to answer him, "You don't have to do anything, you just...you fit like, perfectly in me."

He grabs a pillow and covers his face so you don't see him smiling like an idiot, "Are you saying I have a nice dick?"

You laugh and it sends vibrations down his shaft to his sac, his hips jump involuntarily. He feels you reach for the pillow and he grips it harder.

"C'mon, let me see you," he hears you say, relenting when that soft coaxing tone comes out of your mouth. You tuck the pillow off to the side, still sitting there with him inside of you. He puts his hands on your hips, sliding them down your thighs and then back up again.

He mumbles gently, "Can't believe you're here with me."

"I can," you smile, hips rising and falling again.

"Shit," he gasps, fingers pressing hard into the fat of your hips and back to your ass to steady you. He blanks out his mind, shaking out whatever Steve said, whatever porn he watched, whatever he read online. He lets you keep riding him until he sees stars and on instinct he wraps him arms over your hips to keep you in place and pull you to him.

"Want me to slow down?" you gasp out.

"No," he grins, planting his feet on the mattress. He bucks up into you, once, twice, three times until he gets a steady rythym. You feel like fucking heaven, and you sound like it too.

"Oh fuck, Eddie," you whine out, it's high pitched and needy. He grunts in response, chasing his high while your tits bounce in his face.

"Oh my god, oh fuck that's -- that's so good," you gasp, the end coming out in a yelp. Your nails did into his shoulders and he hisses in response, the pain feels good -- he makes a mental note of that to go back to later.

His thrusts slow as he feels himself getting closer to the edge, taking it away from him as he eases up. He wants this to last forever -- he can't even believe he's lasted this long.

"You good?" you ask, taking his face in your hands. He smiles, it's stupid, pussy-drunk.

"M'good, I'm so good," he says softly, "I wanna be on top now."

"Oh, okay," you chuckle out, "Let me just--"

You raise up off him and he whimpers at the feeling of you leaving. The cold air hitting his cock, his chest -- he feels exposed. You lay back on the mattress, legs open and spread for him while your hand travels down to rub lazily at your clit.

"You can't be serious," he whispers, "That's so hot."

"Me touching myself?" you ask.

"Yeah, you -- shit, you're a like a high preistess or some-something," he says, eyes wide with wonder while your hips squirm. He feels stupid after saying it, mentally scolding himself. You're such a fucking loser, Munson.

"Can you um," he takes a deep breath while he steadies himself between your legs, lining himself up with your opening, "Can you keep doing that while I -- do this?"

"Yeah," you nod, a whimper coming out of you when he pushes in. His body knows what to do but finding a rythym is hard at first. The caveman in him wants to just go for it, jackhammer you until he cums. He starts like that, hard and fast thrusts, grunting and moaning like an animal, hips smacking against the backs of your thighs -- but he can hear Steve in his head.

'Start slow and work your way up, try different angles -- when you feel her like...I don't know -- gush? That's when you know you're hitting it right.' 'Gush?" 'Yeah, gush. You'll know what I mean when you finally do it.'

He takes your legs, pressing them up against your chest -- a position he's definitely seen in porn. But the normal kind. The real couples kind. The kind where they're definitely in love. He readjusts, sliding back into you slowly, he smirks to himself when your eyes roll back, arms falling back to your ears.

Then he feels it.

The gush.

"Ed that feels so good," you whine, tears pricking your eyes, "You're doing so good, baby."

Eddie gasps, cock twitching wildly at the praise. His face gets white hot, biting his lip, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

You catch his reaction, letting yourself get louder for him.

"You're such a good boy, Ed," you coo between moans, "You're so good for me."

"So good," he rasps back, hips starting to snap erratically.

"Oh baby, shit, fuck, I'm gonna cum -- m'gonna fuck -- cum," Eddie grunts out, laying flush against you while he finishes out hard and fast. He groans into your ear while you feel him spasm over you and inside you, riding out his orgasm until he comes to a stop. He takes a shaky breath but he doesn't get up, his chest and shoulders continue to shake, he sniffles.

He's crying.

"Oh, no, Eddie -- baby are you okay? What's wrong?" you ask, running your hand over the back of his head. He lifts up slowly, looking at you and your concerned face, your kiss bitten lips.

It makes him want to cry more, "Oh angel, I'm sorry. I'm not sad I --"

"I just love you so much," he sniffles, laughing at the ridiculousness of this, face already wet with tears, "I love you and I've never like -- felt close to anyone like this before. M'sorry for crying. I know it's stupid --"

"It's not stupid," you smile, pulling him to your chest, "I love you, too."

He laughs again, "Do you think I'm some loser virgin for crying?"

He sighs at the feeling of your nails against his scalp again, his body still so sensitive with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"No," you smile, "Especially not a loser virgin. Since, you know, you're not anymore."

"I guess you're right," he says into your neck.

In the light of the three wick candle on your dresser, you both continued you lay there, naked and wrapped up in each other on your bed. You've switched around, your head on his chest and his hand stroking your hair.

"Do you uh," he starts, "Did you cum?"

You shake your head no, "I didn't, but that's okay."

"No, don't say that," he huffs, "Steve said that girls say 'it's okay' but that it's actually not."

"Psh, you really listen to everything that Steve says?" you argue.

"Well yeah, he's -- you know, he used to get girls before him and Nance were official," he says, "He wouldn't lie to me."

"Well I'm not lying to you either," you say, leaning on your side to look up at him, "It's okay."

He squints down at you, "I don't believe you."

With you on your side, he gets up on his knees again, hands finding your hips to lay them back on the bed.

"What're you doing?"

"I said, I don't believe you," he repeat, leaning down to kiss your stomach, your hip bone, the top of your pubic bone, "So I'm gonna make you cum."

"You're really confident," you say while he opens your legs to get between them.

"You think I can't?" he asks, a small frown falling onto his face.

"No, I'm sure you can," you urge, "I'm just saying, you sound really confident."

"It's sexy."

"Sexy?" he asks with a grin, kissing the inside of your knee, "I'll take it."

He looks down in the low light, your pussy still slick and glistening, still slightly puffy from earlier. No wonder guys ventured down here so often -- you looked delicious.

His fingers graze your inner thighs, making you shiver. His eyes meet yours, a devilish smirk dancing over his features, "Do you like that?"

"M'just excited," you blush, grabbing the pillow from earlier to cover your face. Eddie gets to work, laying down on his stomach, letting his lips slip and slide against your inner thighs before licking a thick flat stripe up through your lips. Your whine is loud enough to leak past the pillow, your hips grind slowly up against his mouth.

This was a skill he felt good about. He'd only done it once before a couple years ago during a really drunk hook up in the city, but he definitely didn't hear any complaints. And he figured, if he was a good kisser he had to be good at like...kissing pussy? That's how he thought about it at least.

His tongue traveled wherever he could let it go. Into your opening, against your lips, up and over the hood of your clit. He listened to your breathing, how your hips would react, the tensing in your thighs, trying to see where you liked it the best.

"Up a little higher," you instruct, pillow discarded, leaning on your forearms to look down at him. Your eyes meet and he melts, nodding while he moves up, waiting for your okay. He reaches up, the gods of cunnilingus speaking to him while he does, and pulls back the hood of your clit to lave his tongue over it.

"Ohmygod," you whisper out, head falling back on its hinge, "Don't stop."

"That's really hot," he croaks out to himself, looking at the expanse of your body above him, your exposed neck. He didn't mean to say it out loud. Fucking christ, he sounds like a teenager. He busies his mouth so he stops talking, sucking gently over you while your hips grind in time with his work.

"You can -- mm -- you can use your fingers, too," you tell him while your hand comes down to entwine in his hair. Eddie's eyes flutter closed, the gentle tug when you hit the right spots sends him reeling. His other hand comes up, tongue still flicking in alternating rhythms over your clit. He lets one finger slide in without resistence and then another -- Steve always said something about using two, but he doesn't remember, he just remembers 'curl upwards'. He pumps slow at first, your moans are getting to him, the sound hitting him right in his pelvis. The tightness of your walls around his fingers feels just as good as it was around his cock.

"Oh just like that, just like that, fuck," you gasp out. The praise sends him into a frenzy, hooking his fingers up to feel a different texture than before -- spongey, rigid.

But that's what it happens -- more than a gush. A flood, all over his fingers while your walls clench down hard on him. Hips rising off the mattress while you cum for him, whimpers and whines pouring out of your mouth.

"Easy, baby, easy," he giggles, free hand gripping your hip to ease it back down, "I got you."

You steady your breathing on the bed, feeling him detach from you, pressing soft kisses back up your tummy to your chest.

"You okay?" he asks gently.

"How," you breathe in, and out, "Did you get so good at that?"

He shrugs, "I dunno, just sort of winged it. Was I really that good?"

"You were really that good," you nod, "I came really hard."

"Fuck yeah," he nods to himself, still not realizing that he's thinking out loud, "Sick."

"Sorry," he says with an embarrassed shake of his head. You sit up, pecking him on the lips in a silent 'I love you,' and go to your dresser to throw on some pajamas. He reaches down off the bed to slide on his boxers, pulling his shirt over his head. You meet in the middle of the room and he can't help but hold you to him, feeling closer to you than he ever has. Magnetized, like you're meant to be touching at all times.

"I made brownies," you say, "They're already sliced up and in the microwave. Figured we wouldn't have time to get to dessert, so -- I prepped ahead of time."

"Is it lame to say I already had dessert?" he asks, a boyish grin showing off his teeth.

"Yes," you reply with a smile, "It is."

"Do you wanna watch Grease with me?" you ask while you walk to the door, warm light pooling into the room as you open it.

"Are you gonna say every line as it's being said like you always do?" he responds, following you out of the room, trying not to trip on Brutus who is scurrying past his feet to sleep on your bed.

"Of course I am," you say confidently, going to the kitchen to take out the plate of covered brownies in the microwave above the fridge. He takes them from you, placing them on the counter while he grabs two small plates from the cupboard above your head.

"Then I absolutely want to watch it with you," he smiles, a genuine full smile. Steve is gonna lose his fucking mind when he tells him.

Eddie Munson, resident virgin loverboy.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic

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starrydixon · 6 months

Text

Sweet Melody

Era: Alexandria (Pre-Negan) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: None-Specified Word Count: 1,104 Warnings: none, just fluff!

Even though you were only a little more than halfway up the street from the house you shared with your boyfriend, you could already hear the electric guitar riffs and booming bass of the drums of the metal music Daryl was blasting through the record player in his garage. The idea of Daryl putting on music as he worked on his bike caused a smile to stretch over your face and your steps to quicken.

The closer you got, the more distinctive the music of Black Sabbath became. Although you were eager to get to Daryl, you slowed the pace of your steps as you began to hear the faint sound of an unsuspecting voice singing along to the song. It was hard to picture Daryl singing as you had never even heard him hum a tune before, so you couldn't believe what your ears were hearing until you saw it with your own two eyes. Your lungs had practically stilled as you strained your ears to hear more clearly. Pausing just before the open garage door so you were still hidden from view, you carefully peered your head around the corner to peek inside the garage.

Your gaze instantly fixated on the sight of the angel wings that were on his back. With a slightly ducked head that caused his dark unruly strands of hair to cover his face, he stood by his work bench fiddling with a piece of an automotive part that you couldn’t identify even if your life depended on it. As the music of Paranoid filled the garage, Daryl’s head bobbed slightly from side to side in rhythm with the song.

Your heart melted at the sight, and you had to place a hand over your mouth as you tried your hardest to not audibly swoon over your adorable boyfriend. Tentatively, you took a few more steps forward so you were leaning against the door frame. With your arms crossed over your chest in a way that made it seem like you were hugging yourself, you bit your lower lip as you could clearly hear Daryl humming along to the song under his breath.

You couldn't stop the smile from stretching out across your face as you basked in the sight of Daryl singing along to the lyrics that he knew like the back of his hand. Even after all these years of knowing him, Daryl still managed to surprise you every day.

As the song began to fade and a new one began to start, Daryl had finally felt your presence. Carefully, he turned his head to the side to look over his shoulder. The archer didn’t seem alarmed at the sight of you, as his body language only seemed to relax more knowing you were there. Turning to face you fully, Daryl gave you a lopsided smile and a small wave of his hand that was covered in grease and oil.

“Were you just singing to yourself?” You couldn’t help but ask as you stepped further into the garage. Finding the black stool that Daryl barely used, you took a seat.

“Oh, uh-“ Pausing, a sheepish look suddenly formed across his face at the knowledge that not only had he been singing out loud without even realizing it, but that you had heard it. Rubbing at a non-existent itch on the back of his neck with his hand, Daryl struggled to finish his sentence. “-guess so. Sorry- didn't notice.”

Daryl wasn't the kind of guy who normally cared about what other people thought, especially when it was about him. As he'd never had an audience to impress, he never cared if he was able to hold a tune when singing along to a song. However, now that you had heard him sing, the one person whose opinion actually meant something to him, he hoped he had been somewhat decent at it.

With a slight shake of your head, you slowly stood up from the work stool and strode over to Daryl. The closer you became, the lower Daryl’s gaze ducked away from yours. When you were standing in front of him, you instantly placed your hands on his chest while a warm smile spread over your lips.

“Don’t ever apologize, it was nice. You should keep singing.”

Daryl’s gaze instantly lifted back up to meet yours, and he couldn’t stop the warm blush from dusting over the tops of his cheeks that reached to the tip of his ears. You were looking up at him with so much adoration in your eyes that it was almost overwhelming. The longer you stared at him with all that love in your eyes, the warmer his chest felt and the deeper the pink became on the apples of his cheeks. Letting out a gruff chuckle, he shrugged his shoulders dismissively.

“This ain’t a free show, y'know. You’re gonna have to pay if ya want more.”

As your warm joyous laugh reached his ears, and he felt your body lean into his as you laughed at his lame quip, it was Daryl’s turn for his heart to completely and utterly melt. He snaked an arm around your waist so that his hand was pressed against your lower back for support. A rather smug smirk uplifted one corner of Daryl’s mouth as he watched you laugh.

With a grin so big it threatened to split your face in two, and with a rather mischievous glint twinkling in your eyes, you moved your hands up Daryl’s chest so that your arms were now wrapped around his neck. The slight change in your demeanor sent an electric shock to shoot up Daryl’s back as he anticipated on whatever you were about to say. His hold on you tightened slightly.

“I think I can spare a little change.” Your voice was softer now as your fingers began to play with the ends of Daryl’s hair. It made another spark shoot up his spine and goosebumps to raise over his skin.

“Ya think I’m only worth a little bit of change?” He scoffed again at the notion as if it offended him and pulled you in even closer against his body. “Gonna have to bargain with a little more than that, sunshine.”

“How about I add some kisses, too?” Your question was teasing and hypothetical. You already knew what his answer would be.

Just as expected, Daryl’s only response was raising the hand that wasn’t currently holding you so he could cup the side of your face. Your arms tightened around his neck as his lips came crashing down on yours in a sweet and electrifying kiss.

A/N: This idea was just too cute to not write and share! I hoped you enjoyed and thank you for reading! <3

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

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giorno-plays-piano · 7 months

Text

Broken Boy

Pairing: soft!yandere!Midoriya Izuku x reader

Warnings: obsession, manipulation, past bullying, violence (against bullies), unhealthy coping mechanisms, implied stalking, one mention of hypothetical noncon, Izuku being a cinnamon roll and a menace at the same time, hurt/comfort.

Words: 3.2k

Summary: "Is someone... giving you trouble?" You ask cautiously, actually afraid he's going to say yes. You can't stomach thinking someone is bullying Izuku again. Sure, he bulked up considerably and is now so tall he literally towers over you, but he's still that shy compassionate boy inside, and he doesn't know how to stop people from being mean to him.

P.S. Just giving some love to our best boi.

______________

When you see him, it's almost like every other Friday night when you grab a pizza from that corner cafe and come home to Izuku choosing a movie for you two to enjoy. It's been your favorite tradition ever since middle school, and you can't imagine spending the evening anywhere else.

Though maybe you should, given the circumstances.

Midoriya keeps chatting about work and the new equipment in his gym while you struggle to keep the conversation going. There are a lot of things on your mind, but your best friend's mental health is on the top of the list. Has been for a long time when you two had been younger, but you actually thought he got better with time. That is, until your work friend pointed out how unnaturally clingy he seems to the point when it's almost creepy.

He'd bark for you if you asked, she huffed, but, to your horror, you couldn't even find it in you to argue. In the end, she was right. When you look back at it, Izuku has been getting more and more possessive and insecure despite nothing seemingly changing in the relationship between you two.

Has something happened to him, and you missed it completely? You are confident it isn't his mom - your friend would often FaceTime with you around, and nothing at all hints at Midoriya's mom being distressed, you know her well enough to be sure. Is it work, perhaps? Personal issues?

Has someone started bullying him again?

You shiver from anger at the thought, clenching your fists. You would fucking end anyone who's troubling your ray of sunshine - like you had nearly done in middle school.

When you first met him, he was a new kid in your class, all skin and bones, awkward and shy and with no communication skills whatsoever. Took him about a day to become a target of delinquents you school was full of. They mocked him, drew on his desk, and threw a bucket of water at him once, but, as always, teachers didn't pay any attention to the bullying. You feel bad about it now, but since you had never seen it happen with your own eyes, you didn't think much of it either.

However, when one of the kids punched Izuku in the face to the point his nose started bleeding right in front of you, something in you snapped at the view of blood trickling down Midoriya's face. He was crying, hands up to prevent the kid from hurting him more, pleading the bullies to stop as if they'd listen. To this day, it infuriates you that someone would beat up a child this defenseless and lost: he was like an injured puppy, sobbing and trying to hide in the corner with his arms up to protect himself.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you flew to the bully and strated throwing punches at him like your life depended on it, repeatedly hitting him in the head and chest and everywhere you could reach before the other kids intervened. You were so enraged, though, you ended up fighting them, too, despite getting kicked in the ribs hard. The pain didn't stop you: it was like you turned into a whole different being whose only purpose was to hurt the bullies of a crying kid.

The teachers barely got a hold of you before you grabbed a chair to smash it against the back of one of the other children.

To this day, you wonder how Izuku awoke this raging beast inside of you: you had rarely gotten into fights, and, given your politeness and overall sweet demeanor, neither you nor anyone else had suspected you had it in you. Nevertheless, from that point on, there wasn't a day when you weren't there for Midoriya to kick the ass of whoever had the gall to torment him. Hell, the next time someone punched him, you went batshit crazy and almost pushed the guy off the stairs. Worse, you aren't the slightest bit sorry even now when you think of Izuku's swollen eye after he got punched again.

Gradually, it became better after you showed every stupid boy around what would happen if they did anything stupid to that awkward skinny kid, and Izuku was finally left alone. Naturally, it was no surprise he got so attached to you he spent nearly all his time somewhere around, going to the same after-school activities, picking same clubs, doing same things as long as he was able to stay close to you. You felt sorry for Midoriya: he was so nice it alone was enough for people to pick on him. How was he supposed to find friends? He'd stay a loner forever if you didn't do anything.

He wasn't hard to be around. Getting to know him better, you realized he was genuinely a very gentle and smart kid despite his antics and a weird addiction to superhero movies. Izuku was sweet and polite, holding a door for you like a gentleman, carrying your books, always laughing at your jokes, and even giving up his rice pudding he claimed he didn't like just to give it to you. How could you not like him?

It's been years since you both graduated from college, and he is still bringing you a rice pudding whenever you feel sad. You heart clenches as you think of him going through hard times again when you have no idea what's happening.

"Are you alright?" He suddenly asks, and you realize you've been staring at the wall for a minute, not replying to anything he just said.

God, this is gonna be painful.

"Are you alright?" Turning your head to face him, you ask, equally guilty and concerned.

Even though he tells you he is, giving you his brightest smile, you don't believe it. Izuku is very good at hiding his emotions when he's hurt.

"Talk to me," you ask, grabbing his palms in yours, and he visibly reddens at the sudden touch like a schoolboy.

You aren't fooled by this as you patiently wait for him to open up like always does when you want him to be honest with you, but Izuku just shrugs and says he's unsure what you're implying. Things are the same. Nothing has changed, nothing at all.

"Is someone... giving you trouble?" You ask cautiously, actually afraid he's going to say yes. You can't stomach thinking someone is bullying Izuku again. Sure, he bulked up considerably and is now so tall he literally towers over you, but he's still that shy compassionate boy inside, and he doesn't know how to stop people from being mean to him.

Midoriya smiles and shakes his head. "No. My colleagues and my boss are very nice. You don't have to worry."

"I can't NOT worry!" You exhale, rubbing his hands in yours like you always do when you get nervous. "You seem so... alone. I don't even see your gym buddies anymore. Has something happened? Did you have a fallout or something?"

There it is, this gentle, heartbreaking smile he always gives you whenever you are worried. Izuku has never once told you that you are pushy and overbearing despite the fact that you were all that many times in the past. He just smiles at you like he's happy someone cares, and it makes you tear up at the thought. How could he be so sweet and kind and yet so unaware of his own worth? It feels like the world is so freaking unfair to him.

"I just don't spend that much time with them anymore," he says as he gets a little closer to you, cheeks blushing because he's such a pure soul, unspoiled and shy, "because you are my best friend. I wanna hang out with you. I thought you'd be happy about it."

It's nearly enough to make you freaking sob. What did you do to deserve this sweetheart? How could he stay such a warm, kindhearted guy after the treatment people gave him?

You draw a breath and look him dead in the eye. "Izuku, come on, I'm not going anywhere. Why on Earth do you think if you have other friends, I'll stop hanging out with you? Having more friends is a healthy thing! We can hang out together if you'd like."

It seems Midoriya doesn't like the idea, giving how he shakes his head, his expression darkening. You don't know what to make of it until he starts talking, not meeting your eyes, "No. What if you'll like my friends more than me? I've always felt like you liked those gym guys more than me. I hated it. Like they're better than me, and if they ask you to stop spending time with me, you'll choose them over me."

For a second, you're unsure if you've just misheard him. It takes you a moment to process his words. What the actual fuck?! Did he just suppose you like his gym bros you only ever met a couple of times more than him, your best friend who's been with you for years?

As you blink, a thousand questions form in your head in response to his accusation, but one thought prevails over others: Izuku is battling some serious demons inside his head. There is no way a sane person would ever suggest anything like that. He's really, really insecure. Insecure in a dangerous way. You can't believe you haven't realized it earlier, just blaming it on his weird social skills when Izuku clearly hasn't been alright. When did it even start? Has it always been like that, and you simply didn't see the signs? Is it because of his childhood traumas?

Of course, it's his fucking childhood traumas. Why else? You were literally the only kid around him. Of course, he's terrified of losing you, and that's why he's still glued to you like a child.

It hurts you thinking your best friend is struggling that much. He's such a good person. He could have been so much happier if not for the things he had to endure as a kid that damaged him.

"Izuku, I think you need help," you whisper quietly, heartbroken, clenching his hands in yours as he watches you with that soft smile on his face that only makes you more anxious. "Things you say, they're just... wrong. I'd never abandon you for someone else, but it's not normal to depend on anyone that much. You need help. What can I do for you?"

You are completely honest with him when you speak, wishing to do anything it takes to help him get better. Clearly, Midoriya needs therapy. You'll have to ask around and find him an adequate specialist, maybe even pay if Izuku's low on cash, but you can do it. He's your best friend. Even if your colleague is right and he'd do anything for you, you'd do anything for him either. That's what friends are for.

When Izuku lights up, you hope he'll accept your help, but instead, he says, "Just stay with me like this."

You blink again and sigh in frustration. Of course, he'll pretend like he's ok. He has always had.

Reaching out to him, you envelop him in a hug and bring his head to your chest despite how much bigger he is now compared to you. Izuku doesn't fight, eagerly wrapping his hands around your core like he waited for it to happen. You're fairly certain touch is his love language because he used to hug you almost every day when he was a kid. Sure, he did become more self-conscious once you turned older, but it didn't stop him from occasional cuddles.

"I'm not going anywhere, ok?" You repeat again to reassure him. "I'm here. I don't know why you're so fixated on the idea."

"But what if you're gonna meet some guy you'll fall in love with? Get married, have kids?" He mumbles, his breath warming your neck. "What about me then?"

Gently caressing his head to calm him down, you ask, "Well, aren't you gonna do the same? Don't you want to fall in love with some nice girl?"

He sighs loudly, head buried under your chin as he keeps clinging to you. "I've already had."

Eyes wide, you silently stare at him, but Midoriya doesn't stop cuddling with his face hidden from you like he doesn't want you to see him. What the hell? Is this a prank or something? What sort of a fucking rollercoaster is this evening?

You can't even believe he fell in love with someone. Seriously? And didn't even tell you? Who on Earth is this girl? Do you know her? How did they meet? Your head is ready to burst from the number of questions that only seem to multiple again and again with each sentence Midoriya says.

"But you never even hang out with anyone but me..." You start, furrowing your brows until Izuku is groaning in your chest, and it finally hits you.

He is talking about you.

You are the only girl he's ever cared about. The only person he's been close to. And he has always been nice, but also sort of exceptionally nice? Even your mom used to comment on how much he likes you, hinting at the evident crash he had for you, but you always thought it was just wishful thinking despite how much you'd liked him to be in love with you. Given how open he was, he would've already confessed, you thought. By the time you both turned into adults, you were pretty much convinced he didn't harbor any romantic feelings for you or no longer had them.

When in reality he might have fallen in love with you years ago and never fallen out of it.

It freaks you out that much your face is on fire. Fucking hell. How are you supposed to react? What are you going to say? You don't even understand how you are feeling about this. Do you like him? Sure, you absolutely do. But do you love him? Can you love him? He'll surely ask you to date now that the cat is our of the bag. And what are you going to say to that?

Instead, you try to direct your thoughts elsewhere and ask Izuku, swallowing a lump in your throat, "When did you f-fall in love with me?"

He mumbles something inaudible into your chest, and you have to grab his face and make him look at you despite how much you'd like the earth just to swallow you whole this very moment.

"When you first hit that kid for me, I think," he mutters with his face so red he resembles a ripe tomato.

Oh my god, you almost say to his face but manage to stop yourself, drawing a shaky breath instead. He's been in love with you all this time. All. This. Time. You are never going to live this moment down. Ever.

Your best friend had a crush on you for years, and you just blindly thought he was clingy for no reason aside from his loneliness. That he was just being moody when you went on a couple of dates in high school and talked to him about it. That he didn't date anyone himself because he's simply a very shy person and struggles to start a conversation with girls.

Were you being a huge moron to him all this time?

"You weren't supposed to find out this way," he grumbles, burying his head beneath your chin again. "I was preparing for a big reveal in a nice restaurant, and then we'd go on a trip, just the two of us."

You are so abashed you don't even have anything to say. Maybe you're actually dreaming right now on Midoriya's couch because only then it would all make sense. What the hell are you supposed to say? To feel? Your best friend has always been in love with you, and you had no fucking idea.

Again, not that you don't like him or anything. You do. Especially after he manned up a little, grew taller, and hit the gym, although you'd probably like him even if he still was 5"1 skinny as a rail guy with a baby face. It just feels weird to rapidly start developing these freaking intense feelings for someone you nearly considered a part of you.

While you're trying to somehow get out of this akward situation, your brain gives you the stupidest idea to make a joke, "Well, aren't we confident! Already planned a trip after confessing."

You almost feel him smile, but when he breaks the embrace to straighten and look you in the eyes, he has a sad expression on his face. "I'd try to convince you by any means possible I'd do anything for you. I was ready to grovel at your feet. I still am."

His words alarm you, and you immediately place your hands on his shoulders, causing him to smile again. You want to tell him under no circumstances he should do that to anyone at all, but Izuku keeps going before you can stop him.

"I mean it. I'd do anything. I'd let you hurt me. I'd let you rape me if you wanted to. I'd jump from the roof if you asked me. Whatever you want, I'll do."

Normally, a love confession would have made you happy, but the words he say break your heart instead, and your eyes are instantly wet before you even realize it. How could he say something like that? How could be so nonchalant about these things? Has he no regard for himself as a human being? No pride? No pity? How can he talk about being alright with you hurting him if only it meant you'd date him? How could be genuinely be fine with a thing like this?

'I'm sorry!" He apologizes immediately when tears start streaming down your cheeks. "I didn't mean to upset you, I swear! I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me."

You are fully sobbing now, clenching his stupid Captain America sweatshirt you got him last Christmas. This is so fucked up. How could he be okay with you doing these things to him? Why would he even go that far?

You can't stop yourself from embracing him once more, hugging him tight as your head rests on his broad shoulder. Midoriya doesn't protest, his gentle, warm hands already caressing your back as you sniffle.

"Izuku, you need help," you sob, soaking his sweatshirt, oblivious to his smile growing wide when you don't see his face.

Gently rocking back and forth like he's trying to calm down a child, he whispers to you softly in response, "Then will you stay and help me?"

It's such an innocent ask you have no second thoughts saying yes immediately because you better fall down the roof yourself than leave your friend in this state, and you don't even think about Izuku manipulating you into being with him. How could he? He's a cinnamon roll to the core. He's so good and pure it's dangerous for him to be left alone. Besides, you like him anyway, don't you? It's not like everything will change so much in a heartbeat. He's still your friend, still the closest to you. He'll always be. He just needs your help, and you can't say no when he's been so traumatized and really needs help.

Izuku knew you'd say yes, anyway.

__________

Tags: @yanderetodorokishoto @minshookie29

#yandere #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #deku bnha #deku x reader #bnha deku #bnha #my hero academia

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