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Finally!!
I am so sorry @fandom-chameleon23 this has taken so long! But I didn't forget about it! I wrote their moment after the battle at Helms Deep the way I wish it would have happened. And yes, this was their first kiss! 💋❤️
Also as promised @howling-medic I tagged you too!
How my shipper brain wanted it to happen ⬇️
Legolas may have felt a vast expenditure of energy. They may have even reveled in the great relief of victory if it had not been for acute agony within them. Brittle shards of glass pickled their chest before a fierce heaviness set in. Then pained throbbing had caught their throat when a needling sensation attacked their nose. The realization that their heart’s greatest wish had been ripped from their life. They could feel their lips quivering now as regret rained torrentially soaking their core. Of course, they logically knew this was part of the game of war. Why hadn’t they spoken before? Their eyes finally grew wet against their will. Their soul began to quake within their body. They could swear that it could have left at any time in search for their heart's desire. Maybe at least then they may be reunited.
“42!”
An all too familiar voice cut through all the other jovial sounds causing their ears to perk. Their eyes bulged, and their heart had come to a screeching halt. The shards stabbing in them seemed to collapse one by one. This couldn’t be a cruel trick, they wanted to believe their keen eyes. In an abrupt sprint, they ran to the fiery redhead scooping him up into their arms. Unrestrained, they peppered his face with kisses before locking lips with the man. Tears fled their eyes in rivers.
Gimli was beside himself but did not deny the kiss. He in fact gladly welcomed it, parting his lips to allow the elf to slide their tongue between them. With closed eyes, he melted into the act. His own heart pounded finally sensing the cocktail of emotions he had repressed since leaving Lothlorian.
“41” Legolas replied sniffling between shaking breaths. They pressed Gimli closer to their chest feeling their shoulders tremble. “I thought I had lost you forever. So glad am I to see you on your legs”
Doing everything they could not to fall to their knees, they began walking. It didn’t matter the direction so long as it led to a safe place. Security within the solitude of the store room ended up being their refuge. They plopped on the nearest soft spot they could find. The elf squeezed Gimli with all their might that was left. Tears continued to fall from their eyes.
Gimli had barely a chance to process all that had just transpired. Though it all happened so quickly, he could not ignore his heart’s attraction. He too yearned for the tall graceful blonde. To hear their beautiful voice and let it nourish the soil of his core was all he wished. Or perhaps there was more to it than that? It had taken an entire night’s battle for him to finally realize it for himself. With gentle hands, he caressed their back. “No more tears darling. I can’t bear to see you so undone.” Gimli pulled Legolas in for another kiss. Though this time it was gentler than the one they shared previously.
Legolas nodded, doing their best to heed their dwarfs' words. “ Gimli, please… I need so desperately to speak to you.” They sniffle blinking tears from their eyes.
“There will be time for that my dear. For now, we must rest.” Gimli caressed the elf’s cheek.
Legolas couldn’t get themself to protest. their weary body and frazzled emotions left them riddled with vulnerability. All they could do was nod, letting their arms loosen. They were together and that's all that mattered. “I love you.” they whispered close to Gimli's ear.
“As do I dearest,” Gimli replied without any hesitation. He hummed letting himself absorb the long overdue affection. Truth be told, this moment was more nourishing than any amount of rest could provide. It soon would be one that his entire being would cherish for the rest of his days.
hi there 👋
I saw your asks post AND that you ship gigolas so here’s a TTT re-read thought for you
Legolas and Gimli get separated during the battle of Helm’s Deep for an extended period of time and their reunion is cute in the book but I imagine their first kiss happened right after bc they were both so afraid of losing one another 🥺
Oh 😱 you're not wrong I remember!!!! It's extremely sweet tbh❤️❤️❤️
Yes! I may just have to re-read that this winter and give my take on what happens 😏😉🤔
I do like writing drabbles! I have fallen off the drabble train because of dumb life stuff ughhh... but maybe this will help! I'm going to be writing a couple of Thranduil X Elrond drabble tonight but then I'll get started on that re-read!!! I've decided this is my fandom homework!!!!! I need a Gigolas spin on this now!
MY LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!!
😤😤😤
Moo~Moo~🍓🐄
#gigolas#ask#lord of the rings#legolas greenleaf#gimli x legolas#gimli son of gloin#the two towers#ask me anything
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Sometimes I just start thinking about this moment - paired with Maddie's "I just think that maybe you're not sure of your own feelings yet. And if there's something that you need to tell Eddie, you will. Just, in your own time" - and then don't stop thinking about it.
Maybe I'm just reading into it but the way this moment moves. Eddie steps forward, Tommy steps up to exactly where Eddie was, Buck turns to look where Eddie was, doesn't find what he was looking for but still finds something good. It's not just ep 4 and 5 where the focus on Eddie blows me away, it's also this.
#i also have a lot of feelings about how interesting tommy is as a choice for this entire storyline#during both chim and hen begins he stand-in for the old guard and the barrier they both face#during bobby begins again he's a united front with chim and hen in a desire for actual change#and sal's firing is a sign of tommy's change too - sal refused to change and couldn't stay. tommy stayed until he left himself#and he needed to leave - needed something new - to finally accept himself and his sexuality#tommy's return to me - especially with the shift to the new network and everything surrounding that -#has always felt to me like an acknowledgement that things can change#the change in him from the old guard to an entirely different person always felt so significant to me#and this feels really significant too#that buck and his search for happiness throughout the last season has only one constant - the 118#tommy can offer a change to buck without affecting that stability#the way tommy talks about himself on the date feels like an acknowledgement of all of that#and this moment and maddie's intervention feel like an acknowledgement of something else entirely#and i may be a buddie girl but i'm thoroughly enjoying this ride (hopefully buck is too)#because i'm doing what maddie did - 'you'll tell eddie what you need to in your own time. tell me about the hot pilot'#because he wasn't unhappy to see hot pilot there instead. hot pilot good.#anyway look at this shot and tell me you don't see what i'm seeing#there was a lot of visual storytelling throughout this season i love it so much#911#911 abc#911 fox#9-1-1#911 meta#evan buckley#eddie diaz#tommy kinard#another fandom same old tag rambles
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Misty Affections [The L&DS Boys - NSFW]
Rated: NSFW/18+ 🌶️ (Take note of all warnings before you proceed) Pairings: L&DS Men/Reader Word Count: 6k+
Tags: polyandry/polygamy, bath/shower friskiness, multiple orgasms, oral, anal and vaginal sex, body worship, porn with little plot, double penetration, consensual somnophilia, edging, passing hints of breeding, scent kink
Summary: At the eve of your anniversary, you let the men, most precious to your heart, show you exactly how they love and cherish you. Slow and measured. Piece by piece.
Author’s Notes: I have been driven so insane ever since the drop of that crazy trailer, all I’ve been able to fantasize about are these beautiful men. Did so individually at first before they eventually converged within my mind into this behemoth romantic-sexy fest. (If you know me or my stories, you know I cannot go a second breathing without a little love in my sex LOL)
This one’s for all my harem loving folks who’ve been left thirsty after the “Misty Invasions” trailer. Happy reading!
You oscillate at the entrance to the penthouse suite, fingers tracing the sleek outline of the key card your boyfriend had provided you with, earlier; eager gaze skittering back towards the door. Heart within your throat and a swarm of butterflies flittering within the base of your stomach.
An entire year had passed you by; the day of your relationship anniversary upon you now. And you’d decided amongst you, in distinct words and heated whispers, that you’d make it a day well worth commemorating.
You smile at the recollection of Sylus’ amused gaze — blood-red garnet — as it had met your surprised one, a few days prior. He’d had you search up his entire house for an elusive Mephisto, on the pretence of having lost sight of him. Finding him at last, perched atop the silken pillows of his bed. And held within his beak, a sleek black card the bird had let drop into your palm, obedient, before taking flight.
A key access to the penthouse suite of one of the most luxurious hotels in Linkon City.
Sylus had tugged you close — his warm breath, a sweet caress against the shell of your ear — stating the date and time for you to be there, without questions asked. Your heart had thrilled at the time in nervous anticipation.
Just as it does now as you move to hoist your umbrella — damp still from the outpour outside — onto your arm, clutching a bouquet of flowers close to your chest.
Reaching to swipe your card, at long last, against the room’s digital pad—
Before the door sways open on its own. Your gaze skipping, immediate, to meet the owner’s: scarlet, warm in amused affection. “How much longer were you planning to dither at the door?” His hand curves about yours as he steers you inside. Reaching to help you out with your coat and umbrella.
“How did you even—”
Sylus angles his face in mute indication, at the door, just in time for you to catch sight of Mephisto sweeping across the hallway, disappearing just as swift around a corner, with a triumphant crow.
“I am going to cook that bird one of these days,” you mutter, discomfited at the thought of Sylus having been standing privy to your entire vacillation session outside.
A large hand curls about your jaw, insisting your gaze upwards, just as you feel the heat of Sylus’ mouth on yours. “Don’t fret any longer,” his lips brushing each word right against yours. Every stroke tending sparks of fire against your skin. “you’ll make me want to tease you. And I promised them I’d be kind to you today.” The thick baritone of his quiet laughter sinks, hot, into your chest; down into the depths of your belly.
Your hand curves about the back of his neck, heaving that infuriating mouth back against yours. “Please do be quiet for once.” Fingers grazing at the base of his hair before they card upwards, tugging at the strands.
His mouth pulls into a wider smile, just as you all but force the large bouquet of flowers you still carry, against the firm expanse of his chest.
“Happy anniversary, Sylus.” You murmur softly, flushed gaze fixated upon the flowers — snowdrops and lilies, roses and clematis — a representation of each of their colours that had painted your life brighter, over the course of your years together. You truly hoped your boyfriends would love them.
Garnet gaze narrowing in quiet affection, Sylus coaxes your attentions back to him with a call of your name. “And to you.”
“Now,” He winds an arm about your waist, dragging you flush against his torso. “let me find a place for these beauties while you go hop into the shower. You’re cold to the touch.” And when you move to protest, he silences it with a delicate brush of his thumb against your lip before he too bows forwards, to murmur, just shy of your mouth. “I promise you won’t miss me long, sweetheart.”
Leaving you in the stewing solace of your own indecent thoughts.
Your relieved exhale breaks in soft wisps of white curling into the air, well comforted by the heat of your quick shower. Your eyes drifting absently towards the bath you’d drawn, your favourite scent now permeating the space of your bathroom.
Petals rippling across the surface of placid warm waters; you knew how your artist appreciated the romanticism of your relationship. When you let yourself go and allowed yourself free expression of your adoration, for your Lemurian beloved. The colour, it never failed to bring flush to his cheeks at your simple gestures of affection, he so deserved. He had waited, and for so long.
A mere speck of his patience, against your current restless wait, ever since his message had lighted your screen earlier this evening, indicating he’d be there to join you, soon.
Sooner, you whisper into the air, slinking a cautious hand down the line of your stomach and towards your mound.
It was so incredibly difficult to have all your lovers, gathered together in one place, owing to how busy each of you were with your respective schedules. Tonight, hence, was a rare, precious occasion and you intended to make the most of it.
“Why so distracted.” A deep voice resonates at your back; a swift curl of pulsating red capturing your wrist before your fingers have the chance to brush in between your legs. Heaving your wrist up and back, depositing it prisoner into Sylus’ waiting palm. “You barely noticed me.” The roughened pads of his digits graze at the tender skin of your wrist in soft warning, before he lets go. “Couldn’t wait even a moment for me, huh?”
You turn to face him, a puckish smile you know is already teasing at the corners of your mouth. “Just engaging in some personal time.”
Sylus stands before you, body bare, save for the towel that keeps him from you, wrapped about his waist. A sturdy arm reaches past your shoulder, turning the shower off. Motions entirely unhurried. Deceptively tranquil, you do not miss the blood-red heat that simmers at the edges of that observing gaze.
“Oh?” He crowds you a step closer into the wall. Your fingers coast in tense anticipation about the knot of his towel. “You wouldn’t mind if I turned that into a private time for two, would you, kitten?”
You put on a deliberate show of pondering the question; a patient raised brow your lover keeps focused upon you.
Until you tip a coquettish gaze his way and answer. “I suppose I would no—” Your response, Sylus pilfers from your tongue before you can utter it, pulsing a quick kiss of violence against your lips.
Your digits impatiently work to release him from the final confines of his towel, absently tossing it aside. And onto the gnarled vines of red lurking at the edges of your vision, immediately reach to snatch up the cloth, discarding it into a wash bin close by.
Laughter in between heavy breaths; coveting fingers, free at last, skate down the strength of his thighs, skimming past his stiff arousal. A small gasp of appreciation you break against his mouth just as Sylus lurches his hips forward, once, into your grasp to better let you admire the effect you have on him.
“It’s been too long.” you murmur into the space he spares you in between wet kisses.
“Darling,” he exhales; a small, rough sound of pleasure. “Not yet.”
Sylus’ hands stir down the length of your body, fingers finding target, and pulsing into the soft of your ass before you can try and bribe your case with him, to give you what you want. Hefting you up entirely onto the corded strength of his arms, stifling your sound of surprise against his mouth.
He bids you wrap your legs about his waist, as he walks you both over towards the luxurious bath. “Now,” Settling down into the warm, scented water, he eases you back against himself. “Let us get you washed properly.”
You eventually relent and let him do as he pleases for the next several minutes.
Drifting a careful hand about the expanse of your legs, you try not to squirm too much when that devious hand skirts about your inner thighs. Across the arc of your clavicle, down the slope of your breastbone. His palms bear down against your abdomen in provocative press-release motions. You're not quite sure what kind of bathing Sylus assumes he’s doing except just keying you higher, the longer you endure his hands upon you.
Hands that grow unrepentant and bold with time, the self-pleased skew of those infuriating lips following soon after, down the slope of your neck, along the curve of your shoulder. You tip your face sideways, smoothing a quick kiss onto his jaw. “You keep this up any longer and you’re going to have an incredibly frustrated woman on your hands.”
He buries his grin into your shoulder.
“And I’m not sure what I’ll do then.” you threaten mildly.
“Is that so? I’d certainly like to see you try.” He accepts your provocation.
You reach an arm up, winding it about his neck. Fingers splaying against the damp brush of his hair as you angle your head up and he obliges, head canting for your mouth to catch against his. His tongue sweeps against yours in immediate insistence, your eager allowance in the slack fall of your mouth as he presses into you.
Sylus’ indolent digits change tune then; a large palm he curves about the weight of your breast and squeezes. The roughened pads of them toying at the pert apex, until he coaxes your moans out for himself.
The muted click of a lock sounds within your surroundings; quiet, save for the gentle ripples of water and your damp sounds of pleasure.
“Ah,” Sylus murmurs in between kisses. “He’s here now. We would’ve ended up using the little princeling’s entire bath for ourselves if he’d turned up any later.”
A thrill of pleasure and adoring desire crests itself within your chest, calling your approaching beloved’s name on a long sigh of pleasure Sylus wrenches out of you. “That’s it, sweetheart, tempt him on higher sounds next.”
Restless within his lap, you wrench your mouth away from his, raising yourself onto your knees to turn, capturing him in between your thighs.
Just as Rafayel steps past the threshold of the baths, appearing to be in the midst of wresting himself out a long sodden shirt. You absently muse how he must’ve forgotten to carry an umbrella with him, yet again, out on one of his painting expeditions, despite your reminder to him just last night. “It’s pouring crazy out there and I’m drenched to the bone—”
His words nicked mid-sentence with the slow rise of those bluish-florid eyes — taking in the lascivious scene in front — along with your thoughts torn into jagged shards of pleasure with the firm catch of Sylus’ teeth against your breast. A large hand he splays at your back, enticing you closer into his mouth.
Your eyes, refusing to stray from Rafayel’s, even as he remains rooted to the threshold. A flush beginning to colour against the arch of his cheeks to witness how Sylus augments your pleasure further underneath his enraptured gaze.
Pleased joy ripples through you, to be putting on a tantalising show for your beloved Lemurian, entreating him closer on soft sighs and broken moans of his name.
“Please,” your next gasp of pleasure scatters under the prick of stimulated tears. “Rafayel, my heart, come to me.”
And like a beautiful marionette pulled upon by its strings, he obeys your request, striding towards the two of you. Bestowing mercy upon your poor heart, you feel, could pound right out of your chest.
He tips downwards, long, graceful digits sweeping delicate beneath the cut of your jaw to raise. Brushing a sweet kiss of greeting against your mouth. “I’m here, beloved.”
Fingers refusing to cease his exploratory touches, his thumb glides past your cheeks, dusting right beneath your eyes at stray tears.
“Welcome home,” you greet, your own fingers curving about his jaw in hazy affection.
“You’re late,” Sylus speaks, his hand trekking a careful path about the flare of your hip.
Rafayel frowns at that. “I know. Not like I didn’t try to be here sooner.” Fingers tinkering at his belt buckle before he slides it, smooth out of its confines. Your eager hands reaching to assist, rushing down the line of buttons at his shirt, divesting him of his impediments.
“You’re freezing, Rafayel.” You observe, palms pressed up against his naked abdomen.
He catches one of your hands within his, feathering a kiss onto your knuckles. “Warm me, then.” An irrefutable instruction as much as it is his soft request.
Relieved entirely of his clothes, he steps into the bath, fingers entwining against yours in a firm hold, coaxing you onto his body instead.
“You're so cosy.” He appreciates in between hungering kisses. “Share more of your heat with me.” The soft squish of your breasts mould against the solid expanse of his chest the deeper you try and press against the other, your arms encased about his neck, fingers carding greedily through the wet strands of his hair.
Rafayel shifts your positions, guiding you back against Sylus’ chest by your threaded digits. The hard heat of Sylus’ cock presses against the cleft of your ass as Rafayel drives you further in by the urgency of his kisses.
His bond shimmers to life — a scarlet vow — right above his heart, your own thrilled by the rapidly dissipating chill of his body, replaced with passionate warmth.
“I’ve missed you.” He drags your intertwined digits closer, directing your hand to press against the thrumming of his heart. “And especially today, being so important. I wanted to be next to you for the entirety of it.”
Rafayel’s eyes, misted in desire and affection so acute, your breath catches at your throat at the sheer intensity of it. He secretes a gentle kiss into the fold of your palm. “I want us to make this a memorable anniversary.”
“You already are.” You keen softly, in assurance, fingers stroking down the length of Sylus’ thigh. “I desire you both so very much right now.”
He returns your fervent regard in the thick digits that skim past the curve of your spine, fingering in sparing strokes at the rim of your ass. You gasp at the sensation, body clenching in on the emptiness it has long been subjected to.
You need them both; the carnal strength of your want winds you breathless.
Sylus had left you suspended upon a torturous precipice for so long, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on for.
“Hey,” Rafayel prompts.
Garnet binds immediately spring to life, streaking towards the bottles lined up neat atop a marble slab. Plucking one up as if by rote memory, before depositing it into Rafayel’s grasp. “As our princeling desires,” Sylus speaks; the raw amusement you can hear within his words.
Rafayel’s response is all but a raised brow — they have learned to synchronize well against each other, you realize with a shaky exhale. You are glad, as you are nervous, for the state of your body; the havoc they wreck onto you, once your boys are in tandem.
The lubricant well-smeared across Rafayel’s digits, he reaches in between your bodies to run his fingers against the same place Sylus does, two sets of different fingers they ease, gentle, into your ass. Rafayel’s low groan of pleasure, you lunge forwards to drink against your lips.
“I need—” you cry out against him, just as Rafayel withdraws from you entirely to leave Sylus to press his fingers deeper into you, a slow, caressing slide; eased by their gentle loosening of your hole.
Rafayel hums a low, euphoric sound. “Do you need him deep inside you, my love?”
“Yes.”
“You’re almost there for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Sylus’ grunt of approval at your compliance, he drowns into a relishing bite at your shoulder.
Rafayel’s mouth descends upon your breasts, pulsing open mouthed kisses right above the expanse of your thundering heart, his fingers finding their way towards your neglected slit, mercifully pressing into you. A loud, broken moan wrenched out of your throat, pleasure now far palpable after having been edged for so long.
“You’re so wet. So very captivating when you are like this.”
“I love you, Rafayel.” you gasp, tears gathering at your eyes to feel so full of them both.
He pulses a kiss against your mouth in heated devotion, tongue warming against yours in between urgent breaths, “I am yours. Call for me, my beloved bride.”
“Rafayel.”
“Ah. Once more, so I know I am entirely yours to have.” he entreats, gaze heated.
His fingers gather pace — in tandem with Sylus’ controlled assault — striking rhythmic against your frontal walls on each thrust. A spot he gathers at, one that incinerates itself against his adept motions, insistent thumb gliding its touches about the sweet area of your apex, hurtling you faster towards a vehement finish.
“And that you are mine. Call my name, call for me.”
“Rafayel, my Rafayel.” And you tumble over the edge at that final delightfully sensual push, quivering nerveless, in between your lovers.
“There’s more of where that came from, kitten. Don’t give up on us now.” Sylus coaxes, extracting himself from the instinctual clench of your body, whimpering at the keen emptiness of his loss.
“Give yourselves to me,” you beg, “I need to feel you inside me.”
“And you shall have us,” Rafayel soothes, pressing the head of his cock against you.
“As many times as you need.” Sylus allows; the swell of his arousal striking heavy against the cleft of your ass.
The slow ingress of their cocks deep into your body, sends explosive stars skittering across your vision, the overwhelming fullness already throttling you into another orgasm so intense, they have to hold your body still against theirs. Propelling into you in tandem with each other until they set a rhythmic, burning pace within your swollen holes.
Rafayel’s fingers cup about your jaw, dragging you into a fervid, wet kiss. His moans of pleasure he drowns against the heat of your tongue.
Before Sylus lunges forward in a demand for your attentions next, strong digits threading through your locks to guide your head towards him, catching the string of pleasure that stretches thin in between your and Rafayel’s lips, as soon as it forms, against his mouth in a violent kiss.
The thick strength of his cock pulses firmer within your body, each swollen stroke of arousal you feel zip right up across your spine from how Sylus has taught your body to fit his daunting size, well. Each propulsion he carves deeper into your walls, a striking reminder of how intimately your body remembers the shape of him.
Rafayel takes to painting littered marks of pleasure against your neck, their lengths already throbbing in impending release, searing within you.
You squeeze about them at the sole, ruinous thought of their wet heats, flooding you soon. Moaning against Sylus’ mouth when their pacing turns reckless.
“Close,” Rafayel grits in need, cleaving your thighs up and open to constrain against Sylus, the man behind spares no mercy; hot scaffoldings of his own palms, he curves above Rafayel’s, so your sole choice is but to take.
“I’m almost, fuck—” Sylus groans a filthy, guttural sound, “you’ve gone so tight, sweetheart.” Burying his face into the stretch of your shoulder, just as Rafayel’s mouth finds yours at the apex of his pleasure, spurting hot within you.
Sylus’ own release, almost immediately after, his cock pulsates its thick release into your body, surge after surge of it, your body unable to accommodate it entirely. Their combined pleasures, the frenzied brush of both their fingers against your clit, sends you hurtling into your own orgasm, sobbing against Rafayel’s mouth.
Emptying them both, of their seed, for yourself.
You fall breathless against Sylus, strength and consciousness both seeming to flee with the final sparks of quivering pleasure that jolt about your limbs. Letting yourself rest against the strength of Sylus’ body as he soothes a kiss onto your damp temple. “A job well done, sweetheart.”
His final words, you accept in immense bliss, before entrusting yourself to your men in your vulnerability.
A long time has drifted by you, it seems — minutes or hours — you cannot quite tell the difference as your mind edges the cusp of awareness. You recall the sensation of your lovers’ hands upon you, phantom breaths that persist against the expanse of your skin, still. Words of adoration, grunts of desire, the press of their lips you feel within each sweet ache of your body.
The glancing touch of a hungering mouth, at the places you were weakest. The luxuriating stretch of silken sheets at your back — body coddled in soft fabric — as you shift, eyes drifting open on a haze of lust that still chokes your mind, a simmering wet heat kindling in between your legs. Flowing from you and onto an insistent tongue.
Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, gaze rushing down the expanse of your body to snag at the sight of a silver-haired head buried in between the space of your legs, moon-pale strands brushing the skin of your thighs in ticklish strokes. “Oh. You’re awake.” Xavier speaks, right into your pussy. His fingers pulse about the catch of your legs, keeping you steady for a slow sweep of his tongue into your slit. Sending your fingers grappling forwards, into his hair, your hips lurching up into his mouth.
Cheeks flushing fast into crimson at the realisation of how wet he’s made you, in your slumber alone.
Xavier relents at last, rising from in between your legs. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” Your slick drenches his lips, smeared across his jaw; the sight sending a fresh jolt of arousal straight in between your legs.
“Xavier,” your voice sounds hoarse to your own ears. “starlight.”
He nuzzles his cheek, obedient, into the palm you stretch out for him. Pulses a wet kiss onto the expanse of sensitive skin. “We’re home.” He murmurs, clear cerulean eyes meeting yours.
“How have you been?” The quiet baritone of Zayne’s voice reaches your ears from above, you notice your head lies cradled within his lap, the pads of roughened fingertips scraping gentle circles into your scalp. You shift yourself upright onto the bed.
“Well. Now that you’re both here.” You curve coveting fingers about his jaw, luring his face closer to brush a gentle kiss against your lover’s mouth.
Zayne’s long changed out of his stifling attire, clad in a loose robe — he’s eased himself by your side. Carding absent fingers through the fall of your hair to hold steady, as you greet each other in chaste kisses.
The day’s harsh lines marred across his bow, softening with each kiss you flitter against his mouth, his cheeks, his lids apiece. He hasn’t had a proper weekend off from the hospital in ages; you’re determined to make the most of it now and help ease your beloved’s nerves tonight, and over the course of your rare days off.
You all deserved it, this short moment of reprieve, a chance to celebrate and enjoy what was purely yours.
You inch up across his lap, body much too aware of the moisture that soaks past swollen folds and leaks onto your thighs, an obscenity barely concealed by the flowing frills of your flimsy nightwear, caressing just past your ass. A fact, Xavier has not let you forget, owing to how his hands haven’t deprived you of their warmth, even when his mouth has — slow, stimulating touches across the stretch of your thighs, fingers tickling at the sensitive skin underneath your knees.
Xavier advances up the length of the bed, with you. His torso draping onto your back, careful hands gathering your hair to shift onto your other side, he grazes a demure kiss onto the crescent of your exposed shoulder.
You sink down upon Zayne, securing your much needed support, in the palms you press against the hard expanse of his chest. “How was your day?” Murmuring the question into the give of his neck.
“I had a graft and by-pass surgery planned earlier this afternoon.” Zayne replies, fingers trekking a measured path from your throat, down, along the slope of your clavicle; you shiver underneath his scrutiny. “It went well, so I was able to join you sooner rather than much later.”
“Owing all to your brilliance surely, Dr. Zayne.” Your affectionate smile, you secrete against his mouth. “Xavier, however. I expected you sooner, starlight.”
He hums — a sound of morose defeat — into your skin. “I nearly dozed on my feet during that unnecessarily long briefing.” Burying his face into the side of your neck, to breathe; his next murmurs stifled. “They could’ve just mailed the mission details to me. I wanted to head back with you too.”
You laugh softly, sinking your fingers indulgently into the silken strands of his hair. “Captain Jenna would be so upset if she heard you right now.”
“And you.” Large palms cup about the pliant flare of your waist, your breath hitches at Zayne’s provocative touch. “It certainly looks like those two did a somewhat decent job of taking care of you in our absence. The colour’s back in your cheeks.”
You smile, sheepish, at the remembrance of your last meeting; his displeased frown, vivid, from across the barrier of his work desk, as he’d prescribed a few vitamins for you to take, owing to the sallow pallor that had taken your face, an aftermath of long sleepless nights chasing Wanderers.
“Oh, they have.” You assure, “Speaking of, where are my missing two?”
Xavier’s teeth sink into a testing bite at the flesh of your neck. “Fixing a meal I think, Sylus mentioned.” He murmurs absently.
“Ah. We should all have—” your voice fractures. “dinner together.”
“Later.” Zayne leans forward, mouth skimming a gentle kiss in between your breasts. “Right now, I require you sate a different hunger of mine.” Teeth catching at the gauzy fabric of your lingerie. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” The low rugged quality to his request, pooling arousal deep into your belly.
“I like how she looks in this,” Xavier smooths a touch down the length of your thigh, fingering, gentle, at the frilled garter of the stocking encasing it. “I’m almost jealous of you, Doctor.”
“It is becoming on her,” Zayne agrees, large fingers cupping about the shape of your breasts, rolling at the peaks. You shift your hips in a grind upon his thigh, in an anguished effort for further stimulation. “But does the recipient herself approve of my gift?”
“She does,” you gasp. “If it gets you looking at her with such need, she does—” The rest of your words, Zayne pilfers right into his mouth in an engulfing kiss.
Strong fingers ghost the pliance of your body, down in between your legs to meet Xavier’s. Hot, glancing touches across your quivering pussy, coating their fingers in copious slick.
“The doctor looks so wound up,” Xavier comments mildly. “Help him relieve some of that pent-up stress, baby.”
“You—” Zayne grunts, just as Xavier steers your bodies until you lie, pliant, upon Zayne’s lap, the straining outline of his arousal barely concealed under the modesty of his robes. You moan enthusiastically, fingers undoing the fastenings of his robe to release him, free against eager lips.
“That looks painful,” Xavier comments with an insouciant shrug, hands firming their grip about your ass to raise. “How long have you been holding back?”
“Quiet, Xavier.” Zayne reproaches, voice throttled in raw need.
Your heart and body immediately melting for him, you put your mouth to the head of his cock, taking him in.
A quiver rips across his abdomen at the first lap of your tongue on him, his fingers gentle, encouraging within your hair. A vehement desire cascades forth: to see him make more of that expression, just for you.
“Wet him for yourself, just like that.” Xavier encourages on a soft catch of breath, tapered fingers curving into your drenched slit to stroke against your frontal walls.
Working your tongue steadily, about the generous girth of him — Zayne’s digits remain a patient point of pressure against your scalp — until he hits your throat, pleasant and full, at long last. You groan around him, Zayne swallowing heavily at the vibrations of your throat.
“Don’t be gentle.” Xavier speaks, releasing himself from the wet confines of your clenching walls — fingers he unfurls forwards, to smear across the free length of Zayne’s cock, your throat could not accommodate.
You feel Xavier settle heavy, upon the cleft of your ass; the head of his own cock he glides, indolent, in between your dripping folds.
And just as your insides flutter in impatient emptiness at the baiting stimulation, he enters you on a swift stroke, your garbled sound of pleasure, sending you deeper onto Zayne.
Xavier sets a furious, punishing pace for the three of you, your mouth working diligent against the hard strain of Zayne’s arousal. Your smothered cries of delight mixing with theirs, heated into the air; Zayne’s low guttural groans stirring deep into your belly, within the same space Xavier works open with his cock.
Your silver beast descends upon you, mouth working a steady path along the length of your spine, tongue sweeping a cool, wet trail in its wake.
His fingers reach to tuck stray strands of hair away from your face — easing them behind an ear before he gathers the fall of your hair into a gentle fist, granting an obstructed view of your ruination, to your lover in front.
The pleasured flush dashed across Zayne’s cheekbones, hurtles higher to witness the wreck of desire you know is upon your face. He looks at you as if he wants to love and ruin you, it sends a jolt of inundating slick, right between your legs.
Xavier grunts at your tightening walls, licking a strip up the curve of your ear. “Can I—” His voice ruptures in overwhelming arousal. “—inside? I want to. Let me?”
Your answer; a moan of vehement assent, intermixing with Zayne’s responsive groan. Come for me, Xavier.
His grip upon your hips turns bruising, pelvis driving hard against your ass until he’s releasing himself; hot, pulsating strokes of come, painting into you.
He pulls almost immediately out of your quivering walls, palms shifting underneath your body to lift, until he positions you, right atop Zayne’s drenched cock. His seed still spilling out onto the swollen head of him, just as he coaxes your hips down to take Zayne in, the two of you groaning out in concert at your union.
Zayne surges forwards, sweat soaked forehead pressing against yours; a low, inarticulate curse tumbles from his lips at the clench of your walls, still sensitised from Xavier’s release.
“You’re burning up.” Long, thick digits curve beneath the nerveless stretch of your thighs, guiding you in deep, measured thrusts over his cock. Xavier’s ministrations having had you well-prepared to accommodate Zayne in a single stroke.
On usual days, your body able to accept him only in gradual, pleasurable propulsions, he works deep into your pussy.
“Lean on me.” Zayne speaks.
You do as he asks, appreciative of the reprieve allowed to let go and let Zayne guide you both into bliss. His fingers stroke about your entrance, a thumb he grazes against your clit, in an electrifying jolt of pleasure.
“Come now.” He instructs the man at your back. Soothing a hand down the curve of your spine when you feel Xavier’s arousal, firmed into solid stone once more, at your entrance. You moan at the prospect of what’s to come. Never having accepted any of your lovers into the same space, when Zayne is inside you.
“Breathe for me.” He asks of you. “Look at me.” And you do, in willing love; gaze finding his, coddled in the comfort of his verdant eyes — steady — even in the heated throes of your combined passion. “I am here for you.”
Just as the head of Xavier’s cock presses, insistent at the base of Zayne’s, your body beginning to give into him. Zayne hastens to curb his grunt of pleasure into your mouth, tongues moving against the other as Xavier steadily strokes a slow path into you.
Both your men settling whole and so incredibly full within your body, you sigh in shuddered stimulation when they navigate a rhythm in between your bodies, never leaving you empty for even a moment’s reprieve. A stretch so good, it stirs satisfaction deep into your stomach. The desire for them to leave you drenched up to your womb as you voice it on incoherent whispers, head rolling back onto Xavier’s shoulder.
Their hands; gripping about the shell of your hips, down upon the flare of your thighs. Across the pinching stimulation of your breasts, your throat. Xavier’s fingers brushing to feel the desperate thrumming of your carotid beneath his hold.
Sweeping an index across your damp lip, end to end, before he slips a finger into your mouth, toying at the pink of your tongue as it darts out for a taste.
The fever of your desire streaks higher, passion so incinerating, it only takes Zayne a thumbing caress across your clit before you are convulsing, violent about the two of them in a loud, sobbing cry. Wetness slicking down your thighs despite the way they plug you, their pacing climbing faster with each swift second of inundating pleasure your clenching walls force upon them, chasing a high they seek to release into your body alone.
And when they come with bated breaths and strangled groans, your combined essence overflows from in between your legs, staining the sheets wide and dark beneath.
It is only several breathless moments later that you are able to move, body wasted and draped upon your chosen seat — Zayne does not look as if he minds much, smoothing a kiss onto the sweat-slick stretch of your breastbone. “Happy anniversary, my reckless Hunter.” And then in slower, softer words. “I love you.”
You kiss your response against his mouth; a happy, languorous sound leaving your throat. Curving an arm tighter about Xavier nuzzled into the side of your waist, your gentle beast having settled into a short slumber, after having murmured of needing your warmth close by.
The doors to their bedroom slide open just then, to admit Sylus, carrying what looks to be an expensive bottle of wine and a set of glasses, nestled onto a salver perched across his arm. Rafayel, following close on heel, with a large tray on hand; the pleasant scent that wafts from the steam laced spice off the fresh spread of food, triggers your bout of hunger.
“Reckless brutes,” Sylus comments, an amused brow he raises upon witnessing the utter disarray of your wrecked states. A smile that skews only wider with the distasteful knit to Zayne’s brow.
As if he was one to speak, you would’ve snorted in defence, if you weren’t so drained.
Xavier, too, stirs beside you at the commotion just as the last two men of your heart move to join you upon the vast bed. “Get up and eat.” Sylus instructs, rapping his fist against Xavier’s prone form.
“You alright?” Rafayel questions, the moment he is seated at your side, reaching to entwine his fingers in between yours, a hoarse sound of approval you respond with, at his pleasant touch.
In between Zayne and Rafayel, they guide your body into an upright position.
Your head coasts sideways and onto Rafayel’s shoulder, in languid stupor, as he brings a spoon of hot broth to your lips. “Start with this, you’ll feel better once warmed from the inside.”
“Warm her, they did already… from the ‘inside’ that is,” Sylus’ licentious whisper reaches your ears from the side, setting your face to an incandescent glow at the recollection.
“Crude.” Rafayel reproaches — you do not, however, miss the scandalised red that seeps across his ears at his provocations.
You join in quiet laughter at Sylus’ words, burying your face deeper against Rafayel’s skin. A cosy arm he immediately brings about your shoulders to hold you close, as he continues to satiate your other, necessary hunger.
His scent soothes and settles deep into your lungs, gaze trekking, absent, to the stretch of skin exposed beneath his unbuttoned shirt, from where you smell his perfume strongest. A sudden, stray thought of wanting to lap a path up against him, assaults your mind, sore body responding in feeble protest.
A shadow falls upon you; Sylus’ thumb brushing, delicate, at the corner of your lips. “Eat well for now. Replenish your strength.” A kiss he nips onto your ear, you shiver at the muted stimulation.
“Sylus—”
“You’ll have your fill of us, as much as your heart desires, after.” He promises in decadent whispers.
Your men, proving true to his words; the rest of your long night spent in seeking love against each other’s skins and within their embrace.
Until they engrave proof of their existence — devotion and desire — scattered like scarlet jewels along the canvas of your body.
End Notes: This is my first foray into writing this kind of relationship for my favorite media and I enjoyed each excruciating second of agonizing over positions and 🍆s. Although I adore a hot poly romance just as much as the next person (cough Him&Him&Him), it certainly isn’t something I’ll personally be trying again any time soon LOL.
Likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, if you are so inclined, and never fail to put a smile on my face.
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#sylus x reader#rafayel x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace smut#lads sylus#lads smut#love and deepspace sylus#rafayel love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace xavier#sylus x you#rafayel x you#zayne x you#zayne l&ds#zayne lads#l&ds smut#lads x reader#lnds x reader#lads fanfic#love and deepspace#rafayel l&ds#rafayel x mc#lnds rafayel#love and deepspace zayne#l&ds zayne#lnds zayne#lads zayne#xavier x you
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𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 (s.jy)
PAIRING: alpha!jake x omega!reader (f)
SUMMARY: being an omega was already hard, but being an omega with an alpha roommate was worse. especially during your heats. you’d lock yourself in your room, trying to ignore his strong scent and his presence, but jake has had enough of hearing pained wails. he’ll help you, even if he wasn’t your alpha (yet).
WARNINGS: omegaverse, roommates au, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), breeding kink, doggystyle, dirty talking, riding, cream pie, fingering, pussy eating, knotting (?) , heat and mentions of ruts, pet names (baby, good girl), mentions of pups (this feels strange idk), reader is a virgin, overstimulation, tits sucking (😋), mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
PUBLISHED: 28th August 2024
WC: 4.2k
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emisloves @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 (oneshot) @nyfwyeonjun @high-and-low-all-the-way @victorylr @jaeyunwon @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @nshmrarki @hchoes @entenen @heeseungshim @seungminsapuppy @starfallia @ratchet-sebooty @jakeyismine @laurradoesloveu @denleave1088 @weebgeek22 @victoriasimm @strxwbloody @love4hee @strayy-kidz @iheartshopping @isa942572 @hazycottagedreams @jky001 @haelahoops @chososloverfr @mitmit01 @icepriincehoon @kaykay11sworld @riribelle @coraldonutmagazine @seuomo @sn03 @hoonwonsoul @pinksweetlittlepiano @jiminie-08 @leiclerc BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED (adding the rest in the comments cause i can’t tag more than 50 ppl)
a/n: why do i always end my jake fics with a cliffhanger? it’s a mistery to me as well. i don’t really like how it turned out but i sincerely hope y’all do. idk much abt omegaverse and i searched on google most of the information, if it ain’t accurate let’s just say it’s caseyverse and call it a day. please REBLOG & COMMENT bcs only likes get me shadowbanned. also, lmk your thoughts on this fic 🫶🫶
You were prepared.
You had your favourite blankets, all your plushies, your phone and your charger.
You had even bought a mini fridge to keep enough food so that you would resist for at least three days.
Your heat was coming, you could feel it in your bones, which was the main reason as to why you were locked in your bedroom.
Taking the pill to stop the heat from coming was a good idea, especially since you didn’t have an alpha of your own, but the doctor refused to prescribe them, saying that they would really damage your health.
Because suffering for two to three days straight wasn’t.
Your skin was hot, too hot, sweat started gathering on your forehead, and sticking you to the sheets.
You laid on your bed, trying your best to even your breaths and willing your mind not to slip away.
You hated being an omega and going into heat, especially in summer. The weather affected it, making the pain unbearable.
As you thought about it, a sharp pain like a sting hit your lower stomach, you could feel your panties wetting with arousal.
A small yelp left your lips, your hips slowly bucking in the air to soothe the ache between your legs.
It was humiliating, the way your mind succumbed to the primal urge to mating, to being bred.
Suddenly, a soft knock came from the other side of the door and you scrunched your nose.
Jake, with his strong hormones scent, minty but musky at the same time. You normally could live with it, he was good at hiding his scent so as not to bother you and you hid your pheromones well too.
But now, it almost suffocated you and he wasn’t even in the room with you “Y/N… can I come in?”
You scoffed, mood already ruined by your denied pleasure. It’s not like you didn’t have toys, they were in your drawer, but most definitely you weren’t to use them while Jake was in the house.
You just needed to keep control of your mind.
“Jake, no.” You hissed, even if he already knew the answer “Not for the rest three working days.”
Jake pressed his forehead on the door. He also went into rut, but he would just find a willing omega or a beta to bury himself and then forget about them.
You weren’t like him, you didn’t want someone you didn’t know to be inside you, to have such a power over your body.
“Three days?” He sighed “Fuck, your scent is so strong.”
And it was true, during your heat you released more pheromones so as to attract other alphas. Fact was, it also drove your roommate insane.
“I can smell how bad your heat is, it drives me crazy.” Jake murmured, making you shiver.
You could hear his breathless voice, the thick Australian accent rolling off his tongue was such a turn on.
“Don’t—“ You groaned when another wave of pain hit your lower stomach, “Don’t talk like that.” You pleaded.
"I can't help it." He said, "Your scent is so strong, you smell so good…”
He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw.
“Please, Jake.” You clung the sheet under you, needing an anchor against your lust “Leave, go outside.”
“I can’t.” He was quick to say “You keep whimpering and I don’t want to hear you in pain.” He stated.
“I’m g-grand.” You replied, “I can manage.”
He gripped the door handle, his muscles tensing up. “I want to help you." He said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I want to take care of you and make you feel good, please, just let me in."
“Don’t complicate things,” You breathed out, your hips moving around the bed “We set boundaries, remember?”
“Boundaries don’t expect me to sit back, knowing you’re suffering.” He bit back, voice strained.
“Still,” You commented.
Jake and you had a nice relationship, you weren’t just roommates but also friends. You loved to hang out with him and you didn’t want him to see you like this. Again, it was too embarrassing, you weren’t sure you’d be able to face him afterwards.
He tried to pull the handle but obviously, you had locked the door “Y/N, open up.”
You turned around on the bed, your hips humping against the mattress, your face flush on the sheets “No.” You said, trying to sound convincing.
“I just want to help you, don’t overthink it.” Jake sighed, pulling the door knob again. “I said no, Jake. Go away.”
At another groan that escaped your lips, Jake couldn’t take it anymore and kicked the door a couple of times until it swung open.
You widened your eyes “What—“ Before you could talk, he pounced on you, his body holding yours down.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent that resembled vanilla and peaches, making his head spin “You smell so good, baby.”
You breathed out, trying your hardest not to think about his body so close to you, his skin on yours, “Jake please, get out.”
He planted hot kisses down your collarbone, his hands roaming over your body. “Let me take care of you, I promise I’ll make you feel good.”
“No..” You murmured but as his hands yanked off your shorts and panties, you could feel your wetness running down your thighs in the same way your consciousness crumbled.
You wanted it, you wanted Jake to take you, to make you his and calm the burning desire that consumed you.
He cursed under his breath, two fingers gathered your arousal and he put them in his mouth, humming “You even taste delicious baby, can you be anymore perfect?”
“Jake..” You murmured, “Make it better.” Your voice was strained and whiny, making Jake’s pants tighter.
“Say no more.” He said and without any warning he pushed two fingers deep inside of you.
How they even fit was foreign to you, given that nobody had ever dared to touch you there, but you didn’t really care at that moment. It felt good, so good.
You moaned out, gripping the sheets under you, your mind already a puddle of pleasure.
His digits were skilled, brushing and thrusting in every spot that got your eyes rolling.
“So wet for me baby, mh?” Jake groaned, the squelching sound filling the room, imprinting in his ears.
He raised your shirt with his free hand and started groping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his palms.
He towered you, his presence dominant behind you, like a shadow swallowing you whole.
Whimpers left your lips, but this time they were a reaction from pleasure, not pain.
“Where is it?” He asked, biting his tongue as he desperately searched for something inside you.
When he felt you moan loudly, he smirked “Got it.” And he started thrusting his fingers in and out, reaching that spot again.
You felt as if your body was being burned, you needed him to continue it, to take you to the edge.
And Jake never stopped, even if his wrist hurt and his fingers grew sore. He lived to hear your cries of pleasure, to be the one making you squirm.
“Close?” He asked when he felt your walls clench around his digits and you nodded.
“Ugh.” You moaned, your eyes squeezing and with one last thrust of his fingers, you fell apart.
Your body trembled, your legs shook. Jake gently helped you ride out of your high before pulling out his fingers and licking them clean.
“If only you could taste yourself, baby.” He took your chin in his hand and raised your body so you were kneeling, back flush to his chest “So sweet, I can’t get enough.”
You felt his bulge brush against your back and it was the moment where your mind went completely black.
Lust winning over reason.
You breathed out “Jake,” Letting one of your hands wander down his chest until it reached his sweats, feeling his clothed hard-on “Put it inside me.”
Jake cursed, his body trembling “You want it inside?” He questioned, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear “Want me to fuck you, mh?”
You nodded blissfully, trying to pull his pants down.
Jake chuckled and let you fall on the mattress, quickly working both his shirt and pants off.
You peeked at him over your shoulder and gasped. His cock was huge, so long and thick it made your mouth water.
Any worry that it might not fit in your virgin pussy was clouded by lust, so you said “Hurry.” Raising your backside in the air.
“Patience.” He ordered, gently pulling your shorts and panties down your ankles, as well as removing your shirt.
He stroked his hard shaft, already leaking precum, he kneeled closer to you and you held onto the headboard.
Jake gripped your backside, squeezing your hips as he teased your entrance with the head of his cock.
You gasped, the feeling so good “I’m going in now.” He had the decency to warn that time and slowly, pushed inside you.
“Ngh.” You moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he put all of his length in you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed.
Jake sighed, his head thrown back. Your walls hugged him, “You’re so tight.” He grunted.
He was going slow so he wouldn’t hurt you, but it wasn’t enough for you. You needed more, you needed to feel all of him in all of you.
“Faster,” You pleaded, arching your back “Faster, fuck me fast.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” He murmured, his pace still too slow
“You hurt me if you don’t start moving fast.” You groaned, reaching a hand behind you to pull his hips nearer you.
Jake shook his head, amazed “Anything you want.” Like that, he moved faster.
The sound of skin slapping filled the room as well as the squelching ones from your wetness.
“M’gonna fuck you so good,” He said, voice so husky. He took your chin in his grasp and pulled you up, tilting it to the side so he could kiss you.
Finally, he got a taste of your lips, his tongue licking yours, giving delicious strokes.
You moaned in his mouth and he rewarded you with a rather deep thrust that hit your cervix.
He smirked, knowing he had found your sweetest spot, so he kept hitting it repetitively, alternating slow to fast thrusts.
“That’s it,” He snuck a hand on your neck and gently squeezed “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”
You couldn’t almost see straight from the amount of pleasure you were given.
He licked your ear, then pressed wet kisses down your jaw, occasionally sucking.
Your pussy clenched around him, signalling that you were close to your orgasm.
“Jake,” You breathed out “Jake, m’so close.”
His free hand went to your clit, gently rubbing circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body.
“Ugh!” You moaned, the knot in your stomach snapping, making you cream all over his cock.
Jake gave you slow thrusts, helping you ride out of your orgasms and waiting for you to come down off your high.
Your eyes flickered open as you flopped on the mattress, your body growing tired.
Jake pulled out, making you frown “W-what about you?” You asked quietly.
“I’d love to continue baby, but it’s easier to get pregnant during your heat and I have no condoms.” He explained, pressing a featherlight kiss on your shoulder.
How he wasn’t yet a slave of lust, you didn’t know.
“But..” You wanted to argue but your reason was gone, even the lust, replaced by an immense tiredness.
Jake helped you lay down properly, caressing your sweaty forehead “I don’t want to take advantage of you, if we keep going I won’t be able to pull away.”
He leaned down to press another kiss on your lips “Rest, I’ll clean you up and stay with you, ok?”
You only managed to softly hum as your eyelids grew heavy and his voice grew faint until the world was just black.
⪩⪨.
When you felt the second wave hit, you had half expected to wake up in a pool of sweat and slick.
Definitely, not with Jake’s nose rubbing your clothed pussy, inhaling your sweet smell.
“Jake?” You asked, your voice laced with sleep.
He raised his face and looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot. You couldn’t control your pheromones while you slept and they drove Jake insane, making him lust drunk.
“I’m sorry,” He murmured, giving your pussy another smell “Really need to taste you.”
You still felt groggy from your deep slumber when he slipped your panties down and smelled them again.
“Christ,” Jake groaned, slipping them into his sweatpants’ pocket.
He placed gentle kisses on your thighs and raised your legs, letting them rest on your shoulders.
Jake’s breath fanned against your pussy, making you let out a whiney exhale. He smirked and licked a long stripe out of your wet folds.
He moaned, really moaned, at the taste of you and you couldn’t help but glance down at the man between your legs.
He was drop dead gorgeous, with two deep brown eyes, messy hair and the expression of a starved man ready to dig in for his long awaited meal.
Jake gave you kitten licks again, alternating soft kisses to sucking.
You moaned, throwing your head back. You had always fantasised about how good getting eaten out felt like, but Jake must’ve been the masters of it because lord, if he made you see stars.
Your pussy was dripping with arousal, your juices coating his face, running down his chin.
But he didn’t mind, instead, he tried to gather them all on his tongue so as not to miss anything.
He buried his face between your legs, your feet locking behind his neck.
“You need to keep them open, baby.” He murmured on your clit, “Alright? Can you do that for me?”
You let out a broken hum in response, your mind just filled with unholy thoughts of him. You just barely opened your legs for him.
You needed him to make you cum, over and over again, to teach you everything he knew, in all the positions he liked.
“Good girl,” Jake whispered before downing again, his tongue lapping on your bundle of nerves.
He thrust one finger inside of you, gently curling it to reach your sweet spot, making you a moaning mess.
“Ugh..” You yelped, your back arching, “Pussy so good.” He said between licks “Could do this all day.”
You groaned and put one hand on his head, fingers grasping his locks “Less talking, more licking.”
Jake loved how desperate you were, so different from your usually collected and shy attitude.
You were clouded by lust and all of that was for him, he was really the luckiest alpha on earth.
Your hips bucked against his tongue, you were so close to your orgasm you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten.
“Jake...” You breathed out, and he understood what you meant. He removed his finger from you and put his tongue instead, the sensation so new and wet.
His nose brushed against your clit and he patted your waist, signalling that you could start moving.
Both your hands grabbed his hair, riding his tongue, your hips bucking fast against him.
He moaned, sending vibrations all through your body. You rolled your eyes back, “M’so-so close.” You murmured “M’gonna cum.”
If Jake’s mouth was free, he would’ve cooed at how cute you looked, so lost in pleasure you couldn’t even speak properly.
With a few more strong bucks, your legs shook around his neck, your orgasm reaching you like a tidal wave.
You pulled his hair so hard it hurt, but Jake didn’t mind. No, he actually liked it.
“Ride it out,” He murmured “Fuck my tongue, baby.”
You slowly calmed down, your legs fell down on Jake’s sides, your chest heaving slowlier.
You peeled your eyes open, glancing down at Jake.
He had been humping the mattress, as if eating you out was a source of pleasure for him as well.
You could see that the precum leaking from his bulge had stained his sweats, his chest already bare.
“Can I ride you?” You asked such a filthy question so innocently that Jake could’ve cum on spot.
“You want to ride me, baby?” You nodded shamelessly while he chuckled, patting your leg “Get up.”
You followed his lead, getting up so he could take your position. He leaned his back against your bed’s headboard and held out his hands to you.
You took them in yours as he helped you sit on his lap.
Jake’s hands settled on your waist while yours on his shoulders, your hips slowly rocking on his.
He groaned, his head thrown back against the headboard. “You feel so good.” His smirk made you want to do many unspeakable things to him.
Swiftly, he removed your shirt and started touching your warm breasts, teasing your nipples.
He tilted you towards him and latched his mouth on one, kissing and swirling his tongue around your nipple while kneading the other.
You moaned, rewarding him with a rather deep grind, feeling his whole length underneath you.
Suddenly, a thought crossed your blackened mind “Breed me.”
Jake stopped his work on your breasts and looked up at you, his brows furrowing.
Something in his brain was trying to warn him, but he was far too deep to even care “Yeah? You want me to breed you?”
He circled your waist with one arm and pulled you up, pulling his sweats and boxers down and kicking them off his ankles.
“I want your pups.” You murmured, your voice frail and quiet but full of desire.
Jake groaned, his cock twitching “Fuck, baby.”
“I’ll give you my pups,” You pumped his shaft with your hand and held it to your entrance as he slowly lowered you on him “I’ll fill you with my pups.”
The thought of your belly all swollen, your body changing to carry his pups wasn’t such a bad idea… was it?
You wanted everyone to know he was the alpha who took care of you, you wanted— no, you needed him to mate you.
He moved you up and down, slowly at first, so you could get used to him, but then he snapped his hips up into yours forcefully.
He debated whether to let you ride him or to just take the lead and fuck into you, but his control had crumbled long time ago and all he needed was to breed you.
The desire was consuming the both of you, leaving the room only with moans, grunts, heavy breaths and filthy sounds.
You sincerely hoped your neighbours weren’t to hear your late night activities.
You wrapped your arms around Jake’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You left kitten kisses and sucked on his skin, making his head spin.
You fit so well in his arms and he fit so well inside of you.
“Pussy was made for me,” He grunted, his pace picking up “Mh, Were you made for me, baby? Aren’t you my omega?”
You nodded, your walls sucking him in, squeezing around him “I’m yours,” You cried out “I’m yours, all of me.”
Jake’s eyes lit up “Yeah?” He chuckled, placing one hand on your lower stomach. He could feel the shadow of his bulge under his palms.
“Do you feel it, baby? I’m here.” You felt him press down, earning a moan from you.
You looked down to where his hand was and almost came on spot “So— S’deep.” You threw your head back.
He circled your hips, making your clit brush against his pubic hair.
“You like it deep?” He asked, his voice low, his accent thicker when he was lost in lust. “You like it when I’m so deep you can feel me everywhere?”
You nodded mindlessly, your eyes squeezing as you felt your second orgasm approach “Like it!” You exclaimed “Like it so much, Jake, please.”
Jake groaned in answer and goped your ass, lifting you up so he could fuck into you.
His hips moved fast, his balls smacking on your skin. You grasped his shoulders and bit down on his neck, the pleasure he was giving you was overwhelming all your senses.
“Fuck, baby, I’m so close.” He murmured, his grip on you so tight it left red marks.
“Jake, oh lord—” You cried out, feeling your orgasm approach “Cum around my cock.” He whispered, his lips so close to your ear it sent shivers in your body.
“Mh— Ah.” You moaned as your euphoria reached you, your legs trembling and body squirming. If it wasn’t for Jake’s iron grip, you would’ve fallen out of your small bed.
But he didn’t care that you needed to calm down, not really, because his hips continued to snap against yours.
His cock was in so deep he hit your cervix with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure all around your body.
Your ears rang from your powerful orgasm, your breath laboured. Overstimulation made your body tremble. But still, you didn’t feel complete.
“Cum in me.” You managed to whisper in his ear, your arms clinging to him for dear life. “Please Jakey, I need you to breed me.”
That was all it took. Jake’s movements altered, his cock twitching inside of you as his balls emptied.
You felt his hot seed filling you up, but soon it was followed by a sharp pain.
“Ugh!” You groaned, tears filling your eyes “J-jake…”
He cursed under his breath, his orgasm still washing over him. It had never happened that he came so much like that time, liquid spurring inside of you.
“Shit baby, I’m sorry,” He breathed out “I may have knotted you.”
“What?!” You widened your eyes, back to your normal self. Your worried and overthinker self.
You tried to move away from him but the sharp pain came back.
“Shh, don’t move.” Jake instructed “It’ll hurt more if I pull out now,”
“It hurts either way!” You groaned, clinging on him like an anchor.
“I know, I’m sorry.” He pressed featherlight kisses on your neck “The first time always hurts, but I swear it gets better.”
“I’m dying here.” You whimpered, but Jake’s touch was soothing and so were his words and a few minutes later, the pain stopped.
Slowly, he pulled out of you and kissed your temples “You okay?”
You nodded, now that there was nothing tied up inside of you, you felt refreshed. Happier. You didn’t even feel any discomfort caused from the heat.
Jake smiled softly and caressed your cheek, he leaned in to whisper “Knotting helps with your heat pain.”
“But it hurts like a bitch.” You frowned, watching as he carefully placed you down on the bed and cleaned you up with a tissue.
Jake chuckled, “I told you, it gets better.”
⪩⪨.
And it did, Jake was no liar.
The morning after he was kind enough to drive you to the doctor who gave you a prescription to take birth control. He said it would be better than fully stopping your heat.
He also reassured that the percentage to get pregnant was high after a knot (nagging at Jake for losing control), but as long as you took the pill within twenty-four hours, it would slow or block the process completely.
You hoped for the latter.
Obviously, he highly recommended to always use protections and to avoid knotting… but, you used a condom just a couple of times, because your heat wouldn’t get better unless Jake fucked you raw and filled you wih his seed.
In fact, he took you in the shower, on the couch and even in the kitchen. Any time was a good time to eat you out and stuff you full.
The only place left ‘holy’ was his room, but he said it’d be filthy once his rut started. Which, by the way, you agreed to help him through.
Jake even skipped his lectures to stay at home with you and provide you whatever you needed. Not like he attended much on a daily basis.
Everything went smoothly, he was so caring towards you, always looking after you when you passed out from the intense sex, even cooking for you (even if he burnt the pan and you two had to order out) and giving you nice massages until your heat completely stopped.
However, it was around a month later, when you came out of the bathroom with teary eyes and a positive pregnancy test in hand that you and Jake realised you had taken it too far.
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Hold Tight
Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18. Minors, DNI!
Summary: Aemond has long sought comfort in the arms of the madame at his lowest. Now, he has what he's so long craved; a loving wife who is happy to indulge him. Warnings: Pregnant!Reader, lactation kink, PinV, mention of Luke's death and the war, mentions of the madame, Aemond's a little soft. If you notice anything else, let me know and I'll tag it! Pairing: Aemond x pregnant, wife!Reader Word Count: 7.6k HotD Taglist | HotD Masterlist
Aemond Targaryen knew the secrets of the Red Keep better than most.
As a child, he spent his days studying history and philosophy, learning the language of his ancestors or practicing with his blade, preparing himself for the future he knew awaited him. He kept to himself, tired easily of his brother’s torment and Helaena’s bugs - her riddles - and spent much of his idle time wandering the Keep.
Aegon was bold, slipping out of the gates with a command for the guard on watch to allow him and little regard for who knew. He used his power as the King’s eldest son, as the heir to the throne in the eyes of most, and came and went as he pleased. Helaena never left the Keep without supervision - never wanted to leave at all, really. And Aemond, as always, fell somewhere in between.
Many nights, when he found himself searching for sleep that refused to come, Aemond roamed the labyrinthine passages Maegor the Cruel left behind. He learned most of them, slipping in and out of the Keep as he pleased, and found the ones that he could someday use to his advantage.
Most apartments in the Keep contained an alternate entrance - or exit, if need be - that few knew existed. The royal apartments, he found, were most likely to contain them; Aegon’s, Helaena’s, his mother’s, his, yours.
Though, their existence was a secret he had yet to reveal to anyone, including you.
For as long as he could remember, Aemond made use of the passages. It was not often that he visited the city - he’d never been fond of it, never cared for the revelry in the same way Aegon did - nor did he spend much time by the water. The Keep was his home and where he felt safest. But he slipped from his room to the field where Vhagar resided from time to time, or to the Kingswood, just for a moment of peace.
However, after his thirteenth name day - and Aegon’s insistent ‘instruction’ - Aemond found himself returning to the city more than he ever had.
The unmarked door, one he’d grown to need and hate in equal measure, was his destination. It called to him, a siren song in the dead of night, on his darkest days and it seemed as if each day had grown darker than the last. The incident with Lucerys, the bitter sting of his mother’s wrath, the whispers beginning to fill the ears of all who might hear; every bit his fault, and every bit beckoning him closer to that door.
Aemond lingered there for a few long moments, moments he dared not count, as a war raged in his mind. Seconds could have passed, even hours, as he hid in the depths of the shadows. Many and more moons had passed since he last stepped foot into the city, since he last visited this place, but the song drew him closer.
There was comfort to be found inside, one he once craved so desperately, but he now knew better.
Love, affection, eluded him for so long that he saw this place - the woman inside, the gold he paid her - as his only option, the only chance to feel what others took for granted. A gentle hand, a soft word, a kind smile; he wanted little else and knew she would give it to him.
Inside those walls, the world ceased to exist. There would be no mention of his nephew, his brother, his wife. The woman inside would not ask, would not mention the whispers he knew she’d already heard, and would only listen to whatever he decided to share. There would be no strategy, no attempt to comfort him with words he knew she didn’t mean. Instead, she would hear him confess his gravest sins before attempting to comfort him with the warmth of her mouth around his cock, the pads of her fingers tracing the tense muscle of his shoulder when he curled into her after.
Spending the night there, in her arms - no matter how tempting - would only add to the oppressive weight already crushing his chest. It was a truth he’d come to learn now that he knew real love, true affection, a reality he’d faced.
Despite himself, the tricks his mind played, the comfort he found there had never been real. With his body curled into hers, her fingers carding through his hair and his breath shuddering as he finally allowed himself to feel, he willed it to be a true comfort. He once considered this place, her, the pinnacle of vulnerability, of safety, of comfort.
Now, he knew there was none to be found there.
There was nothing she could say, nothing she could give him, that would provide any comfort at all. The siren song had ended, faded into the din of the city surrounding him, and Aemond could hear a new call. This song was sweeter, gentler, had blown in on a strong wind and erased all other noise the moment he fell in love with you.
Though the marriage was one of convenience at first, an arrangement made by your father and Aemond’s grandsire - his hand for the full strength of your house, when the time came - it had grown into something more.
For much of his life, Aemond refused to entertain the idea that any marriage he found himself in would be one filled with love. Marriage was bound to duty, something done for the good of your house - the good of the realm, in his case - and love meant little. Most lords disliked their wives, took other women to bed at any given chance, and the wives often rejoiced as they were no longer forced to share a bed.
The most he’d ever hoped for was a wife he could tolerate.
Aemond shared little of his mother’s faith, even less of her devotion to prayer and piety, but he often found himself thanking the gods for bringing you to him.
Hidden in the Red Keep, very likely in his own bed as you’d taken to spending more nights with him than alone, he imagined you asleep beneath the soft linen. Very clearly, he could see the white of your nightgown - a beautiful, soft material he found himself clutching between calloused fingers as oft as you would allow, drifting to sleep with the feeling of it soothing his warm skin - as your head rested on his pillow in a desperate bid to surround yourself with his scent.
That image - the picture of you he now saw so clearly, stamped in place of the door he’d been staring at without really seeing - was enough to break the invisible bond that kept him cemented in place.
Without sparing the door another glance, Aemond turned and began his retreat to the Keep.
Each step through the city was quicker than the last, eager to return to the quiet of home - the solace that awaited him in his chambers. Aemond knew the route by heart now, could find his way back with his remaining eye closed, and breathed a sigh of relief as he wound through the hidden passages that lead back to his comfort.
The moment the door settled in place, clicked shut with a soft gust of cool air, Aemond crossed the expanse of the room carefully. His footsteps were light, a barely there sound in the quiet of the room, and he was glad for his caution as he perched on the arm of a chair. His gaze fell to the bed he’d grown so used to sleeping alone in and he felt the ghost of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth at the sight of another body making itself at home, directly in the middle of the mattress.
Just as he’d expected, you rested there comfortably. The white of your nightgown stood in stark contrast to the deep green of his sheets, a bright spot in the otherwise dim tapestry of his room - his life.
Aemond sat there for a few long moments, time beginning to slow as he drank in the sight of you. The Keep was quiet, save for the odd shuffle of guards or servants, and he could hear the soft sound of your breathing as you shifted.
Though you rested near the center of his bed, your head on his pillow and your hand outstretched - reaching for him, despite his absence - your brows furrowed with a discomfort he’d never seen. Beneath the soft bedding, he could see the curve of your body, resting on your side, and the shift of your hand as it lifted to cradle your stomach. The motion set him on edge, drew a sharp breath from him, and earned a fluttering of your lashes as some semblance of wakefulness returned to you.
“Aemond?” you questioned, voice still so soft despite the sleep clinging to you.
“Mm.” He hummed, voice equally soft in the dim light of the room - the lone candle you’d left burning, a beacon for him to find his way in the dark. There was little doubt where your thoughts had begun to drift, the questions you wanted to ask; where he’d gone, how he felt, what came next? But he could not yet describe his feelings in words.
Before you could so much as part your lips, he sighed. “I went to see about Vhagar.” The lie slipped from his lips easily, believable enough, and his eye fluttered shut in a sort of relief - or, perhaps, shame, guilt - when you made a sympathetic noise. “I did not mean to wake you.”
As he stood, fingers beginning to work at the buttons of his doublet, you hummed. “’Twas not you,” you informed him, a sigh of your own escaping as you sat up against the headboard. “Your babe is restless and will not allow me to find comfort.” Aemond watched for a moment, keen eye following every move you made, as your hand returned to your growing belly.
The babe you carried was now very visible, obvious to all who spared you a glance, and the sight was one that enraptured him and terrified him in equal measure. Aemond was a proud man, one who was eager to carry on the Targaryen line, but his family was not one of love. There was no comfort, no happiness, to be found in the Keep - none to be found in the arms of his mother, certainly not his father - and he often feared the same fate awaited his own children. But the soft smile that curved the plush of your lips each time you rested your hand on the swell of your belly and the delighted laughter you breathed each time one of Helaena’s babes brought you into their playtime served as another light, shining in the dark; a spot of hope that, perhaps, his children may know a love he never had.
Aemond’s eye finally lifted to yours, met your concerned glance with an even one of his own after a beat of silence that stretched on almost too long, before he shook his head. “My babe? I seem to recall that we both had a hand in his creation,” he reminded you, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he removed his breeches and stood in nothing but his small clothes.
“Mm, perhaps,” you hummed, though the glimmer in your eyes told him you remembered very well. “But her nocturnal nature is solely your own. At this hour, she is yours and yours alone,” you teased, smiling softly as he padded across the stone floor to make his way to bed.
“Still insistent our first babe will be a girl?”
“A mother knows,” you hummed, watching as he slipped into bed beside you. His violet eye raked over your form, still so easily visible in the dim light of the room, and you bit back a sigh as you reached for him. “Come here.”
With little coaxing, Aemond shifted closer to you. The shift of his body was easy, almost as natural as breathing now, and you hummed in encouragement as you pushed away the bedding to allow his head to settle on your plush thighs. His favored position was resting with his head on your chest, face tipped to the crook of your neck, but the swell of your belly and the sensitivity in your breasts left you both with little choice but to find an alternative.
The beat of his heart began to slow when your hand fell from your belly to his hair, fingers softly carding through the silver strands - now free of the tie he kept in it and the lace of his eyepatch. “What happened, my love?”
Silence settled thick over the room and he knew that you weren’t asking where he’d gone. Though you worried, his disappearance was of little concern to you in that moment. The truth would out eventually, he would admit his shame sooner rather than late - as he so often seemed to with you - but this question afforded him a bit more time.
This question was the one he dreaded, the one that truly meant; what happened that night with Lucerys?
“I sincerely regret that business with Luke,” he admitted, voice a whisper in the still of the room. “I… I was angry, but I only meant to scare him. I did not mean to end his life. But Vhagar, my temper; I lost control.” The confession, whispered to you in the only place he’d ever known true safety, felt like a weight off his chest. It left behind a crater, a chasm that he knew would be difficult to fill, but sharing the secret with you made it easier for him to draw his breath. It escaped as a soft sigh, a puff of air blown across your thighs - now exposed, fabric of your nightgown pushed out of the way to allow his own hand to fall to the plush of your thigh. “Aegon is shortsighted. He wishes to throw feasts, to celebrate bloodshed. Mother is angry because she knows what must come next. Peace is no longer an option.”
Aemond’s confession lingered in the air for a long moment. It reverberated in his ears, rang like the bells that tolled on the day of his father’s death, but you calmed the noise with a quiet sigh.
“I don’t believe peace was ever an option,” you confessed, carefully brushing silver strands away from his sapphire eye. “This war started long ago, before you or Aegon or Rhaenyra were even a thought. It will be convenient, for some, to blame you and Vhagar, but this began before you took the sky together. And someday, there will be none who remember what started it or why it was fought. History will only remember the bloodshed that we must now bear the brunt of.”
No response came to him, lost in the thoughts that swept through his mind like a raging storm, but he knew you didn’t expect one. The words were meant to be a balm, soothing the soul he bared only for you, and he took them as such as he allowed his eye to fall closed.
There was something to be said of routine, then, as you followed the familiar dance that started months ago.
Silence lingered for a beat, long enough for his breathing to even and your own to grow deeper - always so shallow now, he noticed, almost labored as your stomach grew ever rounder - before you spoke again.
“I spent the day with the twins,” you informed him, fingers still softly working through the strands of his hair. “Helaena wanted to take Dreamfyre out so I sat with them and we watched her fly. I think Jaehaerys will love being a dragonrider, like Helaena, but it seems Jaehaera has no interest.”
“And Maelor?”
Aemond’s question was reflexive, asked without thought, but you took a moment to consider it. “Too young to tell,” you decided, allowing your hand to drift to his cheek and brush the sharp line of his jaw. “He has no reaction to the stink of dragon, unlike his sister, but he may, later on. Aegon wishes to take him flying on Sunfyre but Helaena has forbidden it.” Another moment of quiet, then, before you hummed once more. “Has an egg been chosen for our babe’s cradle? Or do you wish our daughter to be like her father and claim a fearsome old beast?”
The reminder of the babe you swelled with drew a shuddering breath from him as Aemond struggled to keep the grasp he held on your thigh light. “Our son will have an egg,” he promised, “but they do not always hatch. He might try for one of the unclaimed dragons on Dragonstone. Vermithor is nearly as fearsome as Vhagar, nearly as old.”
‘If we can pry Dragonstone from Rhaenyra’s hands,’ went unsaid, though you both allowed the thought to cross your minds.
That thought did not linger, however, as you allowed your hand to drift from his cheek to his shoulder. Soft fingers caressed his skin, warm and strong, and Aemond relaxed into your touch. “How can I help you, my love? I mislike seeing you this way.”
More often than not these days, Aemond found himself here. Many and more nights had been spent curled into the curve of your body, his head resting against your skin as you stroked his hair and spoke softly to him, but they seemed to grow more frequent. Aemond knew that you were observant, that you’d realized he seemed to need your embrace more and more with each passing day, but even he could not articulate why.
Perhaps the weight of his inheritance had finally caught up to him. Or, perhaps it was the knowledge of all he’d done in preparation for his brother’s reign. He even considered it was the possibility that he found himself desiring his brother’s crown, the one Aegon had no desire for.
In truth, he knew that it was you.
The moment you joined hands, the moment you became his wife, Aemond began to feel the walls he’d spent so long building crumble around him. You chipped away at the slowly, almost imperceptibly, but they toppled all the same.
With every moment spent together, with every word of affection you shared or every soft brush of your fingertips across his skin, Aemond felt his world shifting.
Everything he’d ever considered important remained, still mired in the golden glory of his inheritance, only you now loomed over it all. All with the babe you now carried, his babe, alongside you.
“You are with child,” he whispered, shifting to lie on his back and glance up at you.
“I hadn’t noticed,” you returned, drily. When he fixed you with a look, violet eye unamused, you sighed. “I am with child,” you agreed, free hand falling to your belly as you stroked his hair once more. “Our child. That is what we wanted, is it not?”
“It is.” That was always the plan; get married, have children, carry on the Targaryen legacy. Only, the plan had never included losing his eye and spilling the first blood that began a war - killing a child, a nephew.
Aemond could not bring himself to say those words aloud, however, as your fingers carefully carded through his hair, he knew that you understood. There was a fear you both shared, one that had grown heavier since the incident with Lucerys, but he dared not speak it and neither did you. Losing a babe was something that frightened you both - him, nearly as much as losing you in the process - but he willed himself to push that concern to the back of his mind.
Instead, he searched desperately for a thought more pleasant.
Initially, when your betrothal was announced and preparations began for the wedding, he heard murmurs of those who pitied you. It was a shame, they all said, that such a pretty maiden - known for her kindness, her beauty, her wit - would be married to someone like him. He was, after all, noted for his sullen silence and impassive expression.
Everyone wondered how you might fare, locked away in the Keep as your husband-to-be rarely ventured outside its walls, just as Aemond wondered how he might tolerate a highborn lady who doubtlessly believed the whispers.
Those whispers had proven false - just as you’d proven that you never believed any of them.
Love, a curious thing he never hoped to find, bloomed between the two of you. It was not instant, as he learned you had hoped, but slow and cautious. Trust took time, vulnerability even more, but they came, eventually. And with them came a relationship that seemed to stun the whole of the realm into silence.
The pair of you were evenly matched: both highborn, well-educated and eager to continue learning; both fond of the quiet, though you had a natural charm and ability to pretend to enjoy banal chatter that he did not possess; both desperate for a love, a comfort, that you never found at home. There were many similarities, and more differences, but the love that bloomed brought you both a happiness you never knew possible.
And now, as you grew round with the evidence of your love, he discovered another feeling he never thought possible.
Aemond always found you beautiful - he agreed with the whispers of court, that you were much too beautiful to be chained to him for the rest of your life - and he spent the first few weeks of your courtship attempting to ignore his baser urges. There would be time enough for him to indulge in you, for him to see you as no other had ever seen you, but a desperate need for you began to take root then and had yet to release him from its iron grasp.
With every day that passed, Aemond wanted you even more.
Aegon often spoke of the joys of sex, the great pleasure he found in the Streets of Silk, and Aemond never quite believed him. The little experience he had - courtesy of his brother’s goading and gold coin - proved Aegon a liar. However, when Aemond found himself settled between your thighs, he finally believed his brother.
Now, there was little that settled him - anchored him to the moment and cleared his mind of all the noise - quite like losing himself in the throes of pleasure with you.
Since you began to swell with his child, your belly growing round and your tits beginning to spill from your gowns, Aemond found himself even more drawn to you - a feat he hadn’t believed possible. There was something so alluring about the sight of you, wandering the Keep dressed in the color of his house and bearing the most obvious sign that you were his, that it had begun growing maddening.
Luckily, you seemed to be just as desperate for him as he was for you.
The maesters assured you both that there was no harm to be done in satiating your urges and, though he was hesitant in the beginning, soon trusted they spoke nothing but the truth. Now, as he found himself eager for comfort - soft words, loving touches - he allowed himself to seek it in your embrace.
“Are you tired, ābrazyrys?” His question was soft, spoken into the silence that settled easily around you, and met with your hum.
“No.” It was a lie, he knew - could tell by the way your lashes fluttered and your fingers slowly brushed at his skin, the way your lips parted with badly concealed yawns - but you would not be swayed from allowing him whatever he wanted. “I’m here, my love,” you assured him, thumb caressing his cheek. “Take what you need.”
Aemond knew that your body was beginning to grow weary - he’d heard your whispered complaints to Helaena; how your back ached constantly, how your body felt heavier with every step, how even your softest gowns felt too rough on your sensitive skin - and nearly refused you as he had no desire to cause you pain. But the warmth of arousal had already entered his blood, burned beneath his skin, and the shift of your thighs beneath his head indicated that you felt it, too.
Rather than backing away, Aemond moved to sit up and crowded closer to you.
“Gevie,” he whispered, violet eye raking over your face as he lifted his hand to cup your cheek. “Issa gevie ābrazyrys.” Aemond pressed his mouth to yours, then, and you swore you felt his lips curve into a soft smile as you leaned into him.
Aemond had softened some, over the course of your marriage. Though he remained himself, steadfast and strong in who he had become, the edges grew a little more polished. His touch was gentler, his words softer, his kiss less rushed, and you appreciated the effort he’d taken as he tipped his head to deepen the kiss. His hand descended, brushed the soft material of your nightgown as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you released a contented sigh.
The large expanse of his hand fell to your ribcage, just beneath the swell of your breast, and though you knew it was coming, you still gasped as his thumb brushed a sensitive nipple.
“I’m alright,” you assured him, the moment he broke the kiss - before he could ask. Your hand lifted to his cheek, thumb brushing his warm skin as you offered him a smile. “Sensitive, is all. The maesters told me it’s normal,” you explained, watching as his gaze fell to your breasts. “They… they also said stimulation may help,” you continued, fingers returning to his hair as his violet eye returned to meet yours.
“Stimulation?”
Aemond knew he hadn’t been subtle in the attention he paid your swelling breasts, in the way his gaze fell to them every time he found you bare between his sheets, but his skin burned with an embarrassed warmth and an overwhelming lust as he realized what you were offering.
“Mm,” you hummed, not bothering to hide your actions as you lifted the skirt of your nightgown higher up your thighs. “I tried, with my fingers, the way they instructed to no avail. Perhaps you have another idea, my love?”
For a brief moment, Aemond felt his head begin to swim. His thoughts muddled, each one making less sense than the last, but they all seemed to lead in the same direction. It was a desire he’d never dared speak aloud, one he barely allowed himself to consider, but the rounder you grew with his seed - the heavier your breasts grew - the harder it became for him to forget.
Most nights, Aemond spent his time wrapped in your embrace. He enjoyed exploring your skin, mapping the soft expanse of your body with his hands and mouth, and had committed it all to memory. His words sometimes failed him, never quite capturing just how much you meant to him - just how deeply he loved you - but his touch never did. With a flick of his tongue or a brush of his fingers, with a snap of his hips or a soft press of his hand, he continued to find new ways to express himself. And when he’d gotten his fill of you, of hearing you cry his name and watching your body writhe with an exquisite pleasure only he could provide, he filled you with his seed before sometimes settling at your breast.
While he once feared you might find the act strange, that it might repulse you, you were eager to take him as he was. Any act that offered him comfort was one you allowed and the few times he curled into you, flushed body pressed to yours and mouth pressed to your breast, he felt nothing but your love.
As he swallowed, hesitant, you offered him a smile. “You will not harm me or the babe, my love,” you assured him, fingers caressing his jaw as they began to drift lower. “If anything, you will be helping me.” When he frowned, uncertain - disbelieving - you hummed. “Feel,” you instructed, reaching to guide the hand on your rib cage to your breast. It was engorged, heavy and warm in his palm, and you sighed as his thumb mindlessly brushed the nipple once more. “When the babe is born, she will have a nursemaid and I will be left with swollen, leaking tits.”
Aemond acted without thought in that moment and allowed himself to take what you offered so freely. His hands lifted to the straps of your thin nightgown and brushed them off your shoulders, giving him an opportunity to free you from the confines of the fabric.
Pregnancy had changed your body, in a way that terrified him at first - something so delicate now rested within you, a life he helped create - but now drove him to the brink of madness.
A searing warmth, all encompassing and hotter than any dragon fire, enveloped him. And a single glance at your face proved that you did, too. You felt the heat of him, the warmth of his palms - of his heavy gaze, his lithe body - and feared you were only moments from begging him to act when he took mercy on you. The gift you offered, the act you so willingly encouraged him to indulge in, was one he would never refuse.
His touch had never been exceedingly gentle, nor was it particularly hesitant. Aemond was a man assured, confident. There were moments he could be tender, even teasing, but none compared to the moment at hand.
The press of his hands to your sides, just beneath your rib cage, was soft. It was a featherlight pressure, one you feared you might not have felt were it not for the overwhelming sensitivity of your skin, and you sighed contentedly as your hand returned to the silver strands of his hair.
Slowly, and with a caution you’d never before seen in your husband, Aemond’s hands lifted.
Aemond was almost tentative, careful, in the way he touched you. His violet eye remained fixed on your face - watching, waiting for any hint of discomfort - and you offered him an encouraging smile as you leaned into his touch. “I am not fragile,” you reminded him, a small grin forming at the words he’d once used to declare his surprise at your steadfastness, your unwavering strength. “I will not break.”
A moment passed, in which you watched your husband gather himself, before his hands lifted to your breasts. He seemed to marvel at the weight of them, the warmth of your skin - usually so cool in the depths of his chambers - and hummed.
As he leaned in, gaze finally dipping to your breasts, you expected him to press his mouth to your skin - bury his face in the crook of your neck, press his lips to your collarbone and work his way down - but you were surprised when he tipped his head to catch your lips in a searing kiss. Though he never left you wanting, never left you doubting his desire for you, this kiss stole your breath.
The kiss was unlike any other; fierce, passionate. It fanned the flames of desire already burning within you and turned it into an uncontrollable blaze. As eager as you always felt for his touch, the fierceness of his kiss left desperate tears pricking at the backs of your eyes.
Calloused hands - toughened by years of swordplay and dragon riding - began to explore in earnest.
Every press of his palm, every swipe of his fingers drew soft noises from your lips, cries that Aemond swallowed eagerly. He relished in them, in the noises only he managed to draw from you, and you felt the evidence of his pleasure press into your thigh.
For a moment, you wondered if he might refuse your offer. However, the thought disappeared with a swipe of his thumb over the sensitive skin of your nipple.
Aemond allowed you to break the kiss, lips parting in a sharp gasp, and wasted little time in pressing his mouth to the curve of your jaw. There seemed to be little hurry in his actions, the way he nipped and kissed the soft skin of your throat, but you could feel the tension in his corded muscles as he crowded into you. He seemed to be nearly vibrating with desire, a tremble that made you lightheaded - an awe that you could produce such a reaction in such a man - and you struggled to catch your breath as he began to descend.
There was a brief worry - a split second thought that never fully formed - that he might avoid your eye in the way he had the very first time, when there was no babe and no real reason to suckle at your breast. However, it was quickly driven away as your husband’s violet eye lifted to meet yours.
Soft kisses were pressed to your skin, across the tops of your breasts and between them - violet eye fluttering as he paused only to marvel at the newfound heat emanating from your skin.
“The maesters told me I would remain warm until the babe is here. They jest it is because I carry the blood of the dragon,” you informed him, hand falling to the back of his head to cradle him close. “I’m not sure I mind. But, tell me, husband; what do you think?”
Though your husband had always been a man of few words, he seemed lost in his own thoughts. The words you spoke meant little to him, it seemed, as he found himself capable of only a simple reply. “I shall keep you warm and full,” he promised.
Already, he could see you swollen with his seed - with the blood of the dragon - again and again. He would see you round with his babe as many times as you would allow and you could see the promise in his eye as he glanced up at you. “Perhaps it is good there will be a nursemaid, then,” you hummed, unable to bite back your grin as Aemond’s mouth pressed just beneath your breast. “So you may spend as much time at my breast as you’d like.”
In the moment, the present mattered little. All that had come to pass ceased to exist and all that might come felt good, sweet. In reality, the future seemed bleak, but in the moment, there was a future. And all either of you wanted was to pretend.
Without sparing another moment, Aemond’s lips wrapped around the sensitive nipple.
The warmth of his mouth, the swirl of his tongue, was cautious at first - desperate to keep from hurting you, to keep from causing any pain - and you hummed contentedly as his eye fluttered shut. Your fingers carded through his hair, touch as delicate as his own, as your free hand fell to his chest.
Aemond’s heart thrummed beneath your fingertips, the beat of it as erratic as you’d ever felt it, and you felt your own beat in time with his.
No part of you ever imagined you would find yourself here - in bed with your dragon rider, the fierce swordsman and Targaryen prince, suckling at your breast - but there was no dismay in it. The pair of you were two halves of a whole: him, desperate to be wanted, needed, loved; you, desperate to love, to want, to need. There was a balance, an equal give and take, that saw you both offering the other what they desired freely. You understood one another in a way no one ever had and you were grateful for that understanding as Aemond attempted to crowd closer.
“My sweet love,” you whispered, fingers brushing the silver strands from his cheek. “This is what we both needed,” you assured him, voice a quiet lilt in the dim of his chambers. “Feels so much better.”
A pleased hum - proud, soothed by your praise - escaped your husband as his free hand returned to your thigh. His fingers pressed into the plush skin, anchoring himself to you, and you sighed at the touch. His hand was so close to where you wanted him and you asked without sparing it a second thought.
“Aemond,” you whispered, hand reaching for his - fingers clasping around his wrist and dragging it higher. “Touch me, please. Need you.”
Calloused fingers slipped between your thighs, lips curving into a smile at how readily you parted for him. His touch paused only for a moment, as did the gentle pull of his lips at your breast, as he seemed to realize the state you were in.
Slick pooled between your thighs and Aemond readily gave you what you wanted. His fingers swiped through your arousal, gathering your slick, before his thumb found the all-too sensitive bundle of nerves.
The wet slip of his fingers was self-assured, an action he’d taken a thousand times before, and it seemed as if he knew your own body better than you did. Heat pooled in the pit of your stomach, filled your veins and blazed up your spine, as he rolled the numb beneath his thumb for a moment before abandoning it to press his fingers to your slick opening.
“You enjoy this,” he accused, finally allowing his violet eye to open as he released your nipple and urged you to turn so he could reach the other. “As much as I do,” he continued, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I do,” you promised, sigh escaping your lips as you felt his long fingers press into you - curling, parting, manipulating in the way only he knew. “I have never turned you away,” you reminded him, words ending in a breathless moan. “If you are as depraved as you imagine yourself, then consider me your equal.”
Aemond seemed pleased by your assertion, proud to have found a wife who not only indulged him, but understood him. And you were pleased, as he returned his mouth to your aching breast, that he trusted you enough to allow you this glimpse.
The press of his mouth to your breast was growing ever eager, desperate for whatever you could give him - and, as it turned out, was not much yet, though you knew he would patiently await the day it would be more. It was soothing, almost, in a way that eased the ache you’d begun growing weary of, and you parted your lips to thank him for it the moment his thumb pressed to your aching clit.
A keening moan escaped, a noise that might’ve brought an embarrassed heat to your skin in the beginning of your marriage, but such noises were familiar now and your husband reveled in them.
Some small part of you wondered if he meant to have you both finish this way, him with his mouth pressed to your breast and you with his fingers curling into your heat. Only, he gave you little time to wonder as he lifted his head to glance at you fully.
“I know your body aches,” he hummed, press of his fingers slowing - thumb stilling on your clit, earning a displeased whine. “Do you think you can take my cock, my love? I have no desire to cause you discomfort.”
“You will,” you huffed, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging - just slightly, “if you do not fuck me.”
Aemond laughed, then, a sound you imagined few others had ever heard, before pulling away from you. You whined at the loss of his touch, the emptiness that filled you and the cool that suddenly chilled you, before your attention was stolen. His lips wrapped around his fingers, capturing the taste of you on his tongue, and you swallowed hard to keep from lunging at him as he settled against the headboard himself.
“Come here,” he beckons, hand already reaching for you hip and hauling you onto his lap. “So fucking perfect.”
Before the babe, before your stomach began to swell, this was a rarity. Aemond preferred you beneath him, pressed into his mattress as he left you seeing stars, but he’d admitted he could see the beauty of the position you now found yourselves in.
As expected, the moment you settled atop him, his gaze returned to your breasts. “One may think you’d never seen tits before,” you teased, not bothering to hide your grin as Aemond rolled his eye. “I jest, my love,” you hummed, reaching out for him - encouraging him to return his mouth to your breast. “It helped,” you assured him. “They no longer ache as they did when I woke. Thank you.”
Aemond lifted a hand to the back of your neck, then, and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss. The kiss was more familiar, something you’d grown to expect - grown to love - and you felt yourself melting into it as he crowded you closer.
The swell of your belly made it difficult to press your body as close to his as you would’ve liked, as close as he would’ve liked - in the privacy of his chambers, beneath the sheets of his bed, Aemond liked you a close as he could have you - but it was enough. His hands explored your warm skin, slick beneath his fingers and no longer aching in the way you’d complained earlier, and you relaxed into his touch as his hand slipped between your spread thighs once more.
Though you expected his fingers to return to your center, Aemond’s hand fell to his cock. You breathed something akin to a sigh of relief as you felt the tip glide through your slick folds, catching on your aching clit and drawing another keening moan that he eagerly swallowed.
The head of his cock nudged your slick opening, nestled there as you rested on your knees, before he lifted his hand to your hip and pulled you down.
A familiar stretch, a familiar warmth, captured the whole of your attention as you sank down onto Aemond’s cock.
Every pulse of him, every twitch of his cock - every ridge, every vein - was heightened by your sensitivity and your eyes nearly rolled back as you sank onto him fully. He filled you wonderfully, perfectly, and reveled in you saying so. Only, he barely allowed you a moment at all to speak before his mouth returned to your breasts.
Each sensation was overwhelming in its own right, every touch more consuming than the last, but the combination of it all had you seeing stars.
The warmth of Aemond’s body pressed to yours, the way his muscles clenched as he rocked his hips up to meet yours, the insistent press of his hand - fingers dimpling your skin as he held you tight - was all magnified by the warmth of his lips pressed to your breast. Even as his hips snapped, pressing his cock in deeper, the press of his mouth remained soft.
Aemond was careful to keep from hurting you, despite his desire to devour you - clear in the lust darkening his violet eye - and you lifted a grateful and to his cheek.
“Feels so good,” you breathed, gaze meeting his. “You make me feel so good, my love.”
The praise he craved, the words he desperately needed to hear but would never ask for, earned you a sharp snap of his hips - driving him deeper, pressing you closer - and you gasped as his teeth carefully nipped at your sensitive nipple. He’d already taken what little your body had produced, would need to wait a little longer for more, but that did nothing to stop him from continuing to suckle at the soft skin as his thumb fell to your clit.
As he so often tried, your husband pressed you on to your pleasure first. His fingers, his mouth, his cock; all working together in an eager attempt to earn your blissful cries. That sharp violet eye watched your face, watched your lips part and your lashes flutter, and you could see the pride in his gaze as you began to quiver in his grasp.
When your release washed over you, heavy and so desperately needed, Aemond allowed himself to let go. He chased his own high for a moment, sinking into the pleasure of you - of your slick cunt, of your swollen breasts.
With a muffled noise, Aemond spilled into you - his spend filling you with a warmth you swore you would never tire of. It was accompanied by a soft gasp, a quiet noise that you wouldn’t have heard over your own heartbeat had you not been paying him such close attention, and you reached for his cheek with a soft smile.
Aemond easily lifted his head, his mouth meeting yours, and gave you the kiss you wanted. It was an assurance for you both, a gesture meant to calm - to serve as a reminder that you were bound, one - and ended with his forehead pressed to yours.
“All of this,” you whispered, the pair of you still struggling to catch your breath, “will end and we will carry on. And when our duty is done, we will be free to live our lives as we wish. You did not start this war, but you will finish it.”
“I will,” he promised, violet eye glimmering with an unscheduled tear as his hand fell to your swollen belly.
It was a promise he couldn’t make in good faith, nor one he could reasonably be expected to keep, but it was enough for the moment. The idea that this is what awaited him - this life, you - made him desperate. He wanted nothing more than to carry on, than to spend the rest of his life right here, and he would do anything in his power to make it happen.
And, if he could not spend the rest of his life here, he would perish in the pursuit.
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Author's Note: Aemond just. Captivates me. How am I supposed to survive two years without more content?
Taglist: @anaya-rhys, @holypeacecrown, @marvelously-flawed, @travelingmypassion, @letsgotothehop, @reynacrawford, @liannafae, @ffsg0jo
#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond smut#aemond x you#hotd smut#hotd imagine#v's fics
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‘your lover may not be the best in showing his affection for you, but when he does try, it’s always in the ways you least expect.’
☀︎|tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. fluff, slight angst, suggestive. subtly implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). size difference. mentions of hickeys. reader gets called ‘princess / little girl.’ based on an anon request.
“am home.” toji announces under his breath after locking the front door. he kicks his shoes off and makes a beeline towards your shared bedroom. as expected, you were there, body wrapped in a thick blanket to protect it from the recently cold temperatures.
you smile and toji’s fatigue becomes nonexistent. it was like he hadn’t just fought for his life for almost two hours straight — making money to quite literally survive. and to provide for you in the best way he could.
“ah, hi, babe! welcome hom—” your sentence was cut short by a heavy weight settling down atop your chest. toji’s body presses you back into the mattress, big hands instantly searching for their desired destination; that being your waist.
his warm breath - the heavy sigh that carried his worries - instantly softens the look in your eyes. it was this vulnerable side of your lover that you adored most. it wasn’t a sight you got to see often after all.
toji wordlessly attaches his lips to your exposed neck as he withdraws the blanket from your body. even though he has yet to utter a single word to you, his actions told you all, “missed you, toji.”
he mumbles something incoherent in response which you could guess were words of acknowledgement. you were ticklish, your skin tingling with every peck left by the dark-haired man whom you loved dearly.
“were ya waitin’ for me?” toji’s voice was muffled, his mouth busy kissing and sucking your skin. his rough fingers move under your clothes and run up to your shoulders—freeing them from the straps of your top.
you tilt your head to the right so he could gain more access to your skin. you didn’t protest nor said anything about toji’s sudden display of affection. you rub his back and allow a hum of satisfaction to escape your throat, “mhm. was waiting for you all night.”
your voice sounds like a soothing lullaby to the older man. a heavy breath leaves his lips and his sloppy kisses on your neck and shoulder blades abruptly come to a halt.
toji rests his head in the crook of your neck. the pad of his thumb travels up and down the marks he had left—his saliva subtly glistening under the light from the bedside lamp.
“tsk. i told ya not to stay up f’me, princess.” your lover grumbles with his tired eyes half-closed, fingers not stopping their rubbing motion, “but i guess there’s no point in tellin’ you that right now.”
toji still can’t understand why you go to great lengths to show your love for him. he’s a cold hearted assassin, a man whom is feared by many including his own clan and yet you love him unconditionally.
despite it all — he still appreciates the fact that you stay up to welcome him home. even if he may not directly show that said appreciation.
“‘i told ya not to stay up for me,’” you teasingly mimic toji’s deep voice and can only laugh at your own antics afterwards. however, a sudden pinch to your side makes you squirm and yelp. it didn’t stop there; toji took the opportunity whilst you were caged underneath him to remind you of who’s boss.
soon enough your high pitched squealing and broken giggles is all the noise that fills the room.
“whadd’ya say there, little girl?” toji grunts as he blocks your futile attempts to escape. he could see the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, your body writhing around the best it could and your little hands trying desperately to push him away.
you shake your head and continuously apologise between loud giggles, vision blurry from the tears of joy. there’s a triumphant smirk on toji’s face once he notices how quickly you gave up your act of confidence, “heh, that’s what i thought.”
one of his hands gathers both of your wrists and effortlessly pins them above your head. with a grin, your lover kisses his way down to your neck again — this time being more passionate.
you take the chance to calm yourself down, chest still heaving with each breath. a pout forms on your lips, but was swiftly replaced by a content smile due to the giddy feeling in your chest.
it’s playful moments like these that remind you of the many reasons why you’ve fallen in love with a man like toji. to others, he might be nothing but a monster—a ruthless and cruel individual—but to you, he’s everything you need and vice versa.
toji’s lips were soft, yet lightly rough to the touch. they’re chapped from the cold temperature he had to withstand when he was outside. you felt bad; you had been laying in bed all night, wrapped up in multiple blankets whilst your lover was quietly suffering.
you know that if you tell toji your current worries, he’ll brush it off with a simple ‘tha’s just how it is’ or a ‘don’t worry ‘bout stuff like that’. still, you cannot help but be concerned about the way he easily disregards his own health.
“toji,” you call out his name as his kisses reach the curve of your breasts. the older man lifts his head in response, eyebrows slightly raised at the sound of his name leaving your lips.
you push down the lump in your throat. your warm hands cup his face and you could feel his stubble prickling your palms. you lower your gaze to the rest of his body — finally getting a good look at his worn out physique.
there were faint droplets of blood hidden right under the collar of his shirt. ones toji probably forgot to wipe away after his mission. his black shirt clings to his torso, the dark spots of sweat subtly evident and the small tears in the fabric proof of his hard work.
you could care less about the fact that toji hadn’t taken a shower before cuddling with you. the first thing he did when stepping into the apartment, was to search for you. that alone told you enough: he needed the comfort your presence brings him — he just didn’t know how to convey that message.
“kiss me.” you whisper and your lover immediately complies with zero hesitation; that’s exactly what he had waited for you to say. his lips crash down onto yours, his large hands hold you by your waist and his tongue brushes against yours like it was the first and last time you’d kiss.
toji’s breath hitches the moment he feels you tenderly scratch his arms with your nails. you always do that to calm his nerves after a stressful day—grazing the tips of your nails back and forth against his bare skin. and it works wonders each time.
“fuck,” the dark-haired man curses in a low tone. his grip tightens on your body and his lips detach from yours. you notice the look in his eyes once he opens them; the look of pure love for you, “i missed you so much — so fuckin’ much.”
you softly giggle at his passionate words and steal another kiss from him before settling back against the pillows. your hands travel upwards to play with his damp hair whilst your legs wrap around his waist.
toji gladly accepts your affection and settles down on top of your body again, careful not to completely crush you with his weight. his face was buried between your breasts, taking in the familiar scent of you which calms him down even more.
“i’m glad you’re back home.” you whisper lovingly whilst continuing to massage his scalp. your tired lover answers with a curt nod and a sigh — this time one of content instead of exhaustion.
“yeah, home.” toji wasn’t referring to your shared apartment. he was referring to you; his forever home. there was an overwhelming amount of love in his heart for you and only you.
if only he could properly express those feelings to you. if only he could express himself.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#toji x you#toji fluff#jjk x y/n#toji x y/n#female reader
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Natty x Male Reader x Soyeon (3.8K Length)
Tags: Rough sex, anal, titfucking, blowjob, facial, choking, nipple play, creampie, dirty talk
You were lying on the sofa of your apartment, overwhelmed, jaded, and abhorred due to the suffocating heat. According to the weather girl on the news, you were experiencing one of the worst heat waves in history, and she wasn’t wrong. The fan wasn’t nearly enough to combat this sunny attack on your person.
You zapped through the different TV channels searching for something to distract your mind, if you didn’t think about the heat it would disappear for sure, delusional.
You found out that on one of the channels they were playing the Olympic Games, which was definitely a good distraction. You kept watching the sports for a while, at that precise moment of the day, the swimming competition was taking place.
Within a couple of hours, the day’s competition had ended with Katie Ledecky winning, what? her 20th gold medal? That woman is the goat of swimming, was your thought.
However, that made a bulb light appear above your head, giving you an interesting idea. Maybe going out and spending some time in the public pool, soaking to cover yourself from the heat, could make you enjoy this day. You didn’t think twice and in just minutes, you had everything ready with your pool bag, towel and swimsuit.
You took your car and drove to the pool area, and as you first guessed, there were a lot of other people affected by this infernal heat.
You managed to visualize a free spot in the grassy zone, and although there wasn’t much shade, it was the best you had found, so you placed your pool bag and towel on it, smeared some sunscreen on your arms and shoulders, and walked towards the pool.
The freshness sensation when your body came in contact with the water was simply unbeatable, you were sure you could stay here until you were forced to leave to close. You approached one of the corners of the pool, resting your arms on either side of the edge as you looked around.
There was a little bit of everything at that hour of the day, children fluttering around playing with balls and water guns, their parents running after them trying to scold them, people like you enjoying a refreshing break, others taking the opportunity to do some exercise and swim, and a bunch of crazy people lying on the hammocks sunbathing, masochists.
Your eyes focused on an extravagant orange hair in the distance, which captured your attention immediately. It was a girl who was wearing a fairly short jeans and a small white tank top that left her belly visible, where you could read “Lifeguard”.
She was small, but, being honest, she commanded respect. You knew it by the way she was scolding grumpily at everyone who tried to exceed her pool’s rules, but on the other hand, with the kids, she always offered a beautiful smile.
That girl had a nice body proportions, maybe not too voluptuous on her chest, but her butt shined incredibly, especially with those tight jeans, it was hard to look away. She was certainly sexy, and…
“Looks like Soyeon caught your attention.”
A voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you noticed a feminine figure standing just to your right. How did she get so close to you without you realizing it?
“Excuse me?”
Smiling, she pointed with her head at the girl whom, until recently you were devouring with your gaze.
“Soyeon, the lifeguard, everyone will think you are a stalker or something if you keep looking at her like that.” She pointed, laughing loudly. Your face turned all red, and your body again felt so hot, not because of the heat now but because of shame.
Then you focused for the first time on that strange girl with black hair and tanned skin. She was wearing sunglasses on her forehead and a white one-piece swimsuit with different color details. She seemed like a very smiling girl, her smile seemed to never disappear, and her laugh could be heard in every corner of the pool.
“Oh no, I was just observing distractedly, I have no weird intentions, was looking to deal with this damn heat.” You explained with a little smile.
“Really? Too bad.” She pouted. “I’m sure she would give you a blowjob in the locker room if you ask her.”
“W-W-What?” Your confusion and nervousness ripped another laugh out of her.
“Yeah, she looks so rude now, but she is a slut who loves cocks.”
That little conversation was making you so hot that it seemed like the surrounding water was boiling. Then the girl moved closer to you, standing in front of you, blocking any other view you might have but hers. Her hand moved underwater to touch your penis, which had acquired a considerable size.
“And me too.” Your body tensed at her touch, and you looked nervously to each side without stopping. You never experienced something like this before in view of everyone, afraid that anyone or even worse, that lifeguard would find out what was going on.
“What are you doing? Anyone could catch us.” With her other hand she placed her index finger over your lips to shut you up.
"Shhh, trust in me." She put her whole hand into your swimsuit to grab your cock, masturbating you with slow movements.
"My name is Natty by the way. Nice to meet you." Her smile was cute, but at the same time, you can see in her that she was enjoying so much watching how you react to every step she took.
"Same here." You replied slowly and haltingly to avoid letting out a moan due to her fantastic touch.
She got even closer and caught your lips in a soft kiss, which you really enjoyed until you noticed how she used her thumb to play with your tip. She gave you a smirk and another kiss, masturbating you again, this time increasing the speed. You bit your lip, refusing to emit a moan as you grabbed her hips to help her use her body as a shield so that no one would notice that situation.
The palm of her hand was playing again with your tip, rubbing with fast movements, making you grab her hips harder. She playfully smiled at you for that. But she suddenly stopped, took his hand out of your swimsuit, and stepped away from you a little, still smiling. You looked at her with a clearly disappointed face.
“If you cum here in the water, we will have some problems, you should cum in another appropriate place, my face, for example.” She couldn’t say that kind of thing with a big smile and laughing, she was crazy.
“I will wait for you in the locker room, don’t make me wait, yes?” She came back to you to whisper in your ear. “I’m so fucking horny…” You hard swallowed saliva.
You saw her get out of the pool and head toward the changing rooms, she was totally fucking crazy, and the worst part is that you were following that crazy girl.
You waited until your erection subsided and became less noticeable for the rest of the people there before you could leave as well. You followed Natty way to the locker room, looking one last time at the lifeguard girl now sitting on her chair. She was looking directly at you too, and it gave you goosebumps.
As soon as you entered the locker room, Natty cornered you against one of the walls, looking at you with lust. She smiled playfully, going back into your swimsuit to make your cock hard again.
Now you didn't control yourself, and you let out a couple of moans that were quickly silenced by Natty's lips, who desperately searched for your tongue. Your hands traveled to her cheeks, fighting fiercely in that kiss but keeping enjoying her masturbation.
You placed your hands on her shoulders, and with a quick twisting motion, she was now the one pinned against the wall.
She left your penis for a moment to take her huge boobs out of her swimsuit. You salivated when you saw them free, and you threw yourself on them to put them in your mouth.
Natty moaned non-stop, enjoying how you licked and sucked her tits, imprisoning her even more against the wall, making her rise a little so that she could surround your waist with her legs.
"It seems I have unleashed the tiger." She smiled, burying your head further into her breasts, rubbing them over your face, and in response, licking and playing with her nipples.
You stopped then, taking some air, breathing heavily, taking her hands and taking her to the other end of the locker room, telling her with a nod to sit on the bench. She did so, and before she could blink, you guided your cock towards her boobs. She understood your intentions instantly and laughed at this.
She put her hands on either side of her tits, trapping your cock in the middle of them, moving them at a frenetic pace, making you moan non-stop.
"You like my titfuck right? I'm an expert."
"I fucking love it, so good." You said, slapping one of her tits, drawing a moan from her.
In response, her tongue began to lick your tip as her tits continued to be dragged along your entire length. Your cock sank between her tits and reappeared again and again, making everything start to get wet.
"More." She moaned, but you didn't know what she meant. "Spank my fucking tits harder, fuck." She asked desperately, and you wouldn’t say no to that.
You slapped her tits again, this time continuously, the sound of your palms hitting her meat echoing through the place, now joined by her screams.
"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, YEEEEEES." She screamed without holding back in the slightest.
She stopped her titfuck and then grabbed your cock, using it to slap her own tits and even rub your tip against her now hard nipples.
She stood up and, still holding your penis in her hand she dragged you to one of the bathrooms, closing the door.
"Sit down." She ordered, pointing to the toilet, and you obeyed immediately.
She pushed aside the part of her swimsuit that connected to her pussy, giving you a perfect view of it, dripping intensely. You started to masturbate yourself admiring her.
"Look what you've done, I hope you're proud." She said, stroking herself a little bit.
"I am." You responded in a mocking tone.
You kept your cock erect as you watched her approach you, straddling you, connecting your cock with her pussy and slowly starting to lower yourself, taking it all in.
"So big." She whispered, caressing your chest.
"So tight." You responded in kind, moving your hands to her butt.
And so Natty began to ride you, raising her hips until she left only the tip of your cock inside her pussy and then lowering herself abruptly, obtaining it whole.
Your cock hit Natty's depths again and again, and your moans were drowned in insatiable kisses that were continually cut by the pleasure you felt.
On one of those times when your lips separated, you took the opportunity to catch one of her boobs that was bouncing non-stop, with your mouth, sucking hard and biting her nipple.
Feeling uninhibited by the pleasure, she increased the pace with which she rode you, while with your hands now on her hips, you helped the movements become more ferocious.
"I'm fucking cumming! I'm cumming!" Natty moaned without stopping her pace until she finally stood over on top of you, cumming.
With hardly any time to waste, she got off of you, kneeling on the floor in front of you, masturbating your cock quickly, and sticking out her tongue.
A few threads of semen were shot straight from your cock towards her face, staining it completely.
"Fuck." You gasped, tiredly watching her try to collect most of the cum from her face with her hands, bringing her fingers to her mouth and licking them.
At that moment, the bathroom door opened with a loud slam. You both turned around startled, looking at the little orange-haired lifeguard who was looking at you very angry.
Your pulse stopped for a moment, you could see how she looked at you, at the pitiful appearance you had at that moment lying naked and exhausted on the bathroom.
"Really Natty? That's the third time this week." She commented, looking at the girl on the floor, who was smiling nervously.
"Sorry, Soyeon, I couldn't resist."
"I've told you, I have no problem with you doing these things, but not on days like this, with so many people, what happens if they catch you?"
"I know, I know, I'm so sorry." She apologized continuously, putting all his clothes back on properly.
"I'll make it up to you, okay? I will invite you to dinner tonight, okay? Okay, bye!" She said, running out of there, fearing her friend's anger.
You took advantage of that moment to stand up and try to leave the bathroom in search of your clothes, but Soyeon's arm prevented you.
"Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you."
With a little push from her, you backed away and fell back onto the toilet. You noticed how she was still glaring at you.
She switched her gaze to your cock, you tried to cover yourself with your hands, but a slap from her made you move them away again in pain.
"Ouch!"
"Shut up," she said, closing the bathroom door behind her. She kneeled where Natty had been minutes before and grabbed your limp cock, still covered in cum.
"What a waste." She whispered, starting to lick your entire cock from top to bottom, cleaning it.
It wasn't something you had expected, and that made you horny again, fattening your cock until it regained its full state again.
Soyeon lifted your cock and captured one of your testicles with her mouth, holding it there for a few seconds and repeating the action with the other one.
"You better have saved something more." She threatened, still angry.
"I can get an extra special load for you." You said, making her look at you.
Without saying anything, she opened her mouth wide and inserted the entirety of your penis into it. You gasped and by reflex you brought your hands to the back of her head, burying it on your cock.
Soyeon didn’t protest about it, on the contrary, she began to move her head uncontrollably, making a lot of erotic sounds during the blowjob.
"Shouldn't you be alert for someone drowning?” You asked curiously.
She let your cock escape from her mouth, completely covered in saliva, and spit on it.
"It's Yuqi's turn, now the only one who's going to choke is me on this damn cock, so shut up and show me why Natty was screaming like a whore."
She resumed the blowjob, using her hands to play with your balls at the same time.
You brought your hands to her head, grabbing a fistful of orange pigtail hair in your fist to help her swallow your cock.
She continued sucking you with just her mouth, taking off her lifeguard top with her hands, and you took the opportunity to touch her small tits.
“They aren’t as big as Natty, but I will treat them the same.” You squeezed her nipples with your fingers, surprising her and making her gag on your cock.
You took advantage of that sign of weakness, and using your fingers, you started to stretch her nipples a little bit. She closed her eyes while she kept taking your cock. As she didn’t stop you, you kept stretching her nipples more and more, they were turning really hard and red under your fingers.
Soyeon reached her pain limit and caught your wrists with her hands, stopping the process going. She lifted her head to look at you with her mouth filled with your cock. After a few seconds, she lowered her head back to the base of your cock and released your hands that were still gripping her nipples, giving you permission to continue, and you did, applying a new wave of pressure to her nipples.
She tried to resist the pain combining with the pleasure she was having sucking your cock, making your dick reach deeper in her throat, in an attempt to silence her screams.
Her nipples were released from the pressure, telling her to stand up, and when she did, you pulled her towards you, sitting her on your lap. Her lips were swollen from the treatment she had given to your cock, and a trail of saliva came out of her mouth.
You touched her tits again, caressing her sensitive nipples that reacted under your palms. Soyeon made a small moan, they were so red and itchy that even the slightest touch bothered her.
Once again, her nipples were your objective, this time licking with your tongue one of them while the other one was being pinched by your fingers. Your mouth started to suck her nipple. You looked at her, but her face didn’t change at all during this time. She was still looking angry at you, so you decided to bite her nipple, making her scream.
Your hands grabbed her nipples in a quick move, but she reacted fast and stopped you again. Both of you were looking at each other, the challenge was being sent, and she had to make a decision.
“Motherfucker.”
She removed her hands, accepting the challenge, and you smiled, raising your hands with her nipples held. Her arms surrounded your neck, and at the same time, she began to rub herself on your cock, masturbating you.
The higher you raised her nipples, the faster she moved, and you could notice how her pants couldn't retain the liquid that was beginning to drip from her pussy.
You gave her nipples one last thrust, digging your thumbs into them as if they were a button. Her movement stopped instantly. She opened her mouth, but there was no sound. You got as close to her as possible without letting go.
“Slut.” You were smiling, she was furious.
Soyeon got off your lap and turned around, you thought she was going to leave the bathroom, but no, she bent over to show you her impressive ass and gave herself a spank on the cheek before taking off her jeans.
"Really?" You asked excitedly. She looked at you over her shoulder, supporting her hands on the bathroom door and raising her butt for you.
You stood up from the toilet holding your cock to bring it closer to her ass, when Soyeon felt the touch of your cock she began to move her hips, twerking with her ass.
You massaged her ass, giving her a couple of kisses followed by a hard spank on her butt cheek, making her grunt, a grunt that gave way to moans as your tongue began to delve into her rear hole.
You savored every corner of Soyeon's ass while she continued to move it on your face. You separated her ass cheeks with your hands, being able to see perfectly how her small hole contracted uncontrollably.
You slowly approached your cock towards her ass, first rubbing it and then playing with it until finally you slowly entered his hole. Soyeon let out a little scream when she felt the entirety of your penis delve into her small hole, feeling a little dizzy as it continued to grow inside her, stretching her ass.
You grabbed her wide hips to start thrusting into her, Soyeon clung harder to the door, moaning uncontrollably, and with each thrust, your hand collided with her cheeks, making her clench her teeth.
She grabbed your hands from her hips and brought them to her breasts, in a clear sign that she wanted more. Without hesitation, you squeezed her nipples again.
“Destroy these little nipples.” She moaned, provoking you to give her a harder treatment.
Your cock went in and out of Soyeon's ass without rest, everything felt so good that it was even difficult to maintain composure and balance. You leaned on her back, completely cornering her against the bathroom door with your body, placing your hands on either side of her head.
Without warning, you took a few steps away and put one of your arms around her stomach and the other one around her neck, pulling her towards you, something that made your cock move even further into her ass, causing true fear in Soyeon.
"What the hell are you doing!?" She protested annoyingly, holding on with both hands to the arm around her neck.
You noticed how she tried to free herself from your grip, however she was clearly smaller than you, so you had her completely dominated under your arms. Your hips continued to move, and ramming her without stopping, you lowered your head to whisper in her ear.
"Be a good slut for me." You said, applying a little force to your grip, and in reaction to that, she couldn't help but scream a loud moan, curling her body under your arms, cumming intensely.
"Fuck, what was that?" You asked, surprised by the puddle that had formed at your feet, loosening your grip on her as she couldn't stay upright and fell to her knees on the floor.
"I didn't think you were that weak, I guess it was all a facade." You fell silent when you saw her, still on the floor, she placed her own hands on her ass, opening it for you, inviting you to enter again.
You didn't hesitate for a second to crouch down next to her and reinsert your cock inside her, making her scream again.
"FUCK, YES, PLEASE, FUCK MY ASS HARDER." Soyeon begged, totally vulnerable.
"That's right, Soyeon, you're being a good slut." You said, ramming her from behind with all your strength, that she automatically bounced her ass against your cock again.
"Yes! I'm a slut, please use me!" She screamed as a result of your thrusts and spanks on his completely reddened asscheeks.
You continued pounding herself that hard for a few minutes until you unloaded a new shot of cum directly into her ass, driving her completely crazy.
You kissed her shoulder without her being able to stop panting with her tongue hanging out, you took your cock out of her ass that was now dripping with your cum.
You left the bathroom to get dressed in your swimsuit again and looked back one last time to see a new stream of fluids coming out of Soyeon's ass uncontrollably, unable to get up from the floor.
"I have to visit more times this pool.”
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Wish
Captain John Price x Reader
wc: 1k words
warnings/tags: fluff
To say that it had been a long day, would be putting it lightly.
He’d promised you he’d be home over 5 hours ago now. He tries not to make promises to you about that sort of thing, knowing he can’t ever truly guarantee anything in his line of work, especially not what time he’ll be home for supper. But you had pleaded with him so sweetly this time.
“It’s your birthday John,” your lips had half whined, half laughed from where they were squished between John’s loving fingers, his amused expression smiling down at you. “I’ve never had you home on your birthday. I want to celebrate you.”
He had told you he would try his absolute best to make it home for 5, 6pm at the latest, knowing you had plans of cooking him his favourite dinner, probably a cheeky sweet for desert as well. Glancing at his watch as he walks through the halls of the now desolate barracks, he sighs, seeing that it’s approaching midnight.
He hoped you’d gone to bed hours ago, and weren’t staying up waiting for him. He hadn’t even had a single second to send you a half assed text message, the prick. He hoped you would be mad at him upon his return, rather than disappointed. His heart couldn’t take seeing you sad, knowing he’d ruined the work you likely put into the evening.
He approached his office, ready to dump his gear, grab his keys and leave this base in his rear view mirror, paperwork be damned. His steps halted momentarily however, when he spotted the light emanating from beneath his door. Someone was inside.
Cautiously but confidently swinging the door open in a single movement, Price stepped inside, eyes scanning the room, letting out a breath when his eyes land on the figure sitting atop his desk.
“Love what in the bloody fuckin’- do I want to know how you managed to weasel your way in here?”
“Probably not.” You admit casually, swinging your legs over the edge of his desk, sending him a pleased smirk. Your husband plants one hand on his hip, the other running through his beard as he exhales deeply out of his nose, a deep sound of consideration rumbling from his chest. Slowly, his head begins to shake in disbelief, eyes rolling as he reaches behind him to shut the door, unable to hide his own amusement at your antics.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he begins, approaching you where you sit. “Things got away from us, but I should’ve at least called-”
You press a single finger to his lips, cutting him off as you shush him.
“You can grovel tomorrow,” you say, removing your digit from his mouth, winking at his bemused expression. “You still have a few minutes left to your birthday John Price.” You shift on the desk, one hand reach back to open his desk drawer, knowing exactly what you’re searching for. You pull out his lighter, the silver metal catching the light of the lamp as you flick it open, sparking the flame to life. You gently bring the lighter to each candle adorned atop of the small, lovingly decorated, homemade cake you’ve brought.
John rolls his eyes as he counts the candles, noticing you’ve pulled out one for each year, but the love sick grin stretched across his face gives away the love and affection he holds for you. You, who’s been sat in his office for who knows how long, waiting for your husband, all in a last ditch effort to catch even just a few minutes of this day with him. A day he considers as ordinary as any other day, apart from the voicemail his mum leaves him, because he’s never able to catch her call in time. Even after all this time together, he can’t believe you still go through all this effort to make him feel special.
With all the candles now lit, you bring the lighter to your lips, pretending to blow it out before snapping the case shut. You put the lighter back in his drawer exactly where you found, before picking up the cake with both hands, bringing it between your two bodies, where John stands in front of you, hands stroking your knees.
“Happy birthday John,” you whisper to him, eyes sparkling with the reflection of the tiny flames, in addition to the love you hold for the man before you. “Make a wish.”
John’s own eyes are shiny with emotion as both his hands come to cover yours, helping you carry the cake.
“My wish came true a while ago sweetheart.” He never looks away from your eyes as he blows out the candles, his real wish come true.
“Oh! I forgot!” You announce suddenly, shifting the cake back onto the desk next to you, reaching for something apparently hidden from view on John’s desk chair. “You have to open this too.”
“Love, you shouldn’t have gotten-”
“Ah ah ah! It’s still today, don’t ruin your birthday for me anymore than you already have.” You interrupt him, lips forming a small giggle at the end of your own joke. You shove the small, terribly wrapped gift into his grasp as he chuckles. Pretending as though it’s a chore, he half heartedly tears away the wrapping paper, revealing baseball cap with his favourite football team on it. “You said you liked Gaz’s cap a while back, and I thought maybe we could, I don’t know, diversify your hats a little bit.”
“I really like this, love. Thank you.” He tells you, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.
“Put it on, I want to see.” You order your husband, secretly really excited to see what your man looks like in something other than his usual boonie hat. John lifts the hat from his head, running a hand through his hair quickly before donning the cap, bill facing forward.
“How’s that, then?” He asks, doing a mock spin for you in good humour.
“I like it, but maybe like this,” you say, coming up off the desk to approach him, resting one hand on his shoulder as both of his come to naturally wrap around your waist. Your other hand sneaks upwards, twisting the cap around until it’s backwards on him.
“What?” He asks seriously, seeing the way your expression falls completely, staring up at him with eyes wide, a little slack jawed, and your cheeks have gone cheery red.
“Uh,” you mutter stupidly, completely entranced by how unreasonably attractive John is in the backwards hat. “Nothing. Maybe we’ll only wear it that way at home, okay?” You mumble, twisting the cap back so it’s forward facing again, still feeling dumbly flustered by the man who sleeps next to you every night.
A knock comes from the door before it’s flung open a half second later.
“Ach, sorry to interrupt you two love birds,” A Scottish accent rings out. “But we heard there might be cake.”
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#captain price x reader#price x reader#call of duty price#price cod#captain john price#john price#captain price#price#cod fic#cod#cod fanfic#john price x y/n#captain john price x you#john price fluff
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─ ✰ STUPID CUPID!
─ SYNOPSIS: gojo's desperate to get something from you, his unoffical partner (you just don't know it yet!) on valentine's day. what a pathetic loser.
─ WARNINGS: swearing, gn! reader, pure fluff, not proofread, delulu gojo, valentine's special, high school au, 2.3k words
─ AUTHOR'S NOTE: guys IM SO SORRY FOR SPAM REPOSTING BUT LETS FUCKING GOOOOO TAGS WORK AGAIN!! i am a firm believer in loser loverboy gojo!! have some fluff to make up for the angst before c:
"c'mon, c'mon, c'mon!!! it has to be somewhere..." satoru hisses urgently, his desperation clearly palpable. his frustration mounts as he rummages through his locker, a chaotic cascade of seemingly endless cards spilling out.
pastel pinks and softly-laced letters, each one a potential hope dashed as he frantically sifts through them. with each piece he retrieves, his heart races a little faster, his anticipation building as he scans through the names written on each envelope. riku, hana, aoi, chiyo, akane, akari... yet no y/n?! where was yours? the absence of your name among the others sent a wave of panic coursing through him, his heart hammering in his chest as the pile dwindles. his stress starts to seep in as the pile of cards gets smaller and smaller, and the ones he did read get larger and larger. he bites his lip nervously, his fingers trembling as he searches desperately for even the faintest trace of your name.
surely, there had to be something, anything, to reassure him that you hadn't forgotten him on this special day. what if they really didn't?? had he not made his feelings clear enough? but... he was so sure he'd get one! even a sloppily written, coffee-stained, ripped piece of paper would do. he just wants to see your name, somewhere, anywhere, in this damn pile of pink.
his heart pounds in his chest as he reaches the bottom of the mound, his fingers trembling with a mixture of anticipation and dread. with bated breath, he picks up the last letter, his pulse quickening as he carefully peels back the edge.
emiko.
the name stares back at him mockingly, as if confirming you really hadn't given him one. with a heavy sigh, satoru lets the letter fall back into the pile, his shoulders slumping in defeat. even the plush teddy bear that someone had left in his locker seems to taunt him with its stitched smile, as if was purposefully picking a fight.
"wipe that smirk off your face," he mutters under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. the though of sending it flying across the hall sounded pretty good right about now.
shoko's voice breaks through the silence as she and suguru enter the locker room, their curious gazes falling upon satoru's disheveled state. "wow, you got so many!" shoko exclaims, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the pile of chocolates and cards. she quickly crouches, snatching a few of her favourite in sight. gojo lets out a dramatic sigh, sulking with a pout on his lips. he hates valentine's day. how could he not get something from the love of his life? they're dating, y/n just don't know it yet. suguru cocks an eyebrow at satoru's crestfallen expression.
"what's the matter? didn't get one from y/n?" he questions, confusion etched onto his features. satoru lets out a dramatic groan, collapsing onto the floor in a mixture of frustration and despair.
"nooo... what if they're giving chocolates to someone else?"
he whines, the mere thought of you bestowing your affections upon another causing a pang of jealousy to stab at his heart. he rolls around, letting out a quiet sigh. he imagines you shyly offering your affections to another upperclassman, causing his lips to tug downwards. it should have been his card you held, his name on your lips, your heart he captured leaving you starstruck. but instead, he was left with empty hands.
"sugu... am i dying?" he mumbles, drawing puzzled glances from passersby who can't help but observe his melodramatic display. "it hurrrrttts.... my heart..." he pouts, folding his arms in a manner reminiscent of a petulant child. shoko rolls her eyes in exasperation.
"get up!! you're embarrassing yourself," she chides, playfully nudging him with her foot. ignoring her, he lets out whimpers of sadness, fully immersed in his theatrics. but then, as if a switch has been flipped, he catches sight of you approaching down the hallway. panic washes over him at the thought of you seeing him in such a pitiful state. with a sudden burst of determination, he straightens up, leaning casually against his locker with an air of nonchalance. adjusting his glasses slightly and parting his lips in what he hopes is an alluring manner, he prepares to present his best self to you. suguru and shoko exchange a deadpan look, silently acknowledging the absurdity of the situation.
"hey," he greets you with a dazzling smile as you draw near, as if he wasn't just have a crisis about you seconds ago. you return the gesture warmly, and he can't help but swoon over you. you're so cute. his eyes are immediately drawn to the bag you're carrying, its baby pink hue and intricate design make his heart race with anticipation. is it a valentine's gift for a special someone? perhaps there's still hope that you'll choose him after all!!! he subtly tries to peek at it's contents, but to his dismay, it's sealed shut.
"you got so many confessions!" you remark in awe, taking in the massive pile of gifts surrounding his locker. it's only ten in the morning, and yet the offerings seem to overflow, spilling into neighboring lockers and filling the air with a sweet, floral scent. the space is thoroughly decorated, as if a unicorn had burst in and left its magical touch behind.
"did you get one from anyone special?" you inquire, and he quickly shakes his head, inwardly congratulating himself for his loyalty to you. (yes, he's that delusional.) "nope... not from who i wanted, yet," he sighs dramatically, gazing into the distance with a hint of longing. suguru and shoko, observing the exchange from a distance, can barely contain their amusement, stifling snorts as they eavesdrop on your conversation.
"hey, are you planning to confess to anybody?" he asks casually, though his heart is racing with anticipation. he subtly fluffs his hair and fixes his ocean-blue gaze on you, trying to gauge your reaction.
"hm? oh... i am, actually!" you admit, your cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink as you attempt to conceal your embarrassment with a feigned cough. he resists the urge to scoop you up in his arms and pepper your face with kisses. nevertheless, his heart swells with hope, silently praying that the gift you're carrying might be intended for him.
"oh? and who to?" he feigns nonchalance, though every fiber of his being is hanging onto your every word, desperate for a hint of your true intentions. you look away, huffing softly, leaving him hanging on the edge of anticipation.
"it's a secret," you tease, sticking your tongue out before mentioning being late for your next class. with a quick goodbye, you slip away before he can protest. left alone once more, he slides down his locker, staring into the distance with a heavy heart. you... just left! does that mean the gift wasn't for him after all? his worst fears seem to be confirmed, and he feels the sting of disappointment threatening to overwhelm him.
someone else will get to make you blush, tenderly kiss your soft lips, and hold you close. but who could have possibly stolen your heart? he's the school's biggest heartthrob, after all. why couldn't he win over the only heart he truly desired? he's more handsome, smarter, and cooler than your crush, he convinces himself with a huff.
suguru slings his arm around his white-haired friend, giving him a playful noogie in an attempt to lift his spirits. "cheer up, 'toru. there are plenty of fish in the sea," he says, but satoru's mood only darkens further. he doesn't want anybody else; he only wants you. shoko sighs, rolling her eyes at the typical male cluelessness.
men.
as the day progresses, satoru slowly loses hope with each passing hour. he doesn't even have the energy to entertain the people who approach him, confessing their feelings with bowed heads. he smiles, accepts their gifts, and walks away, tossing them into his bag mindlessly.
he won't fall for any of them; not a single one truly understands him like you do. they only care because he's 6'3, and conventially stunning. but you? you go along with his silly antics, make him laugh until his stomach hurts, and only you can make him feel like he's floating on cloud nine. that's why he treasured having you as a genuine platonic friend... until his friends burst his bubble, insisting he was in love. it's only then that he realizes, oh shit, they're right.
the minutes trickle by, his anticipation dissipates, each passing class period making him lose hope that you'll ever confess. you're absent from his sight in every shared subject, from english to biochemistry, calculus to philosophy. with each missed encounter, his heart sinks a little lower, the disappointment weighing heavily upon him. when the clock finally strikes three fifteen, signaling the end of the school day, he finds himself trudging to his locker with leaden steps, the faint glimmer of hope dimming with each passing moment.
fingers trembling slightly, he slowly gathers his belongings, each movement drawn out as if in desperate anticipation of a surprise that never materializes. as he stands before his locker, the absence of your presence echoing loudly in the empty hallway, he can't help but wonder if you've already confessed your feelings to someone else.
in that moment, all he can do is hope—hope that whoever holds your affection will cherish you as deeply as he does, that they'll never bring tears to your eyes, and that they'll safeguard the innocent spark that ignited his own heart in the first place.
he plods homeward, shoulders slumped, his steps heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. each footfall echoes a somber rhythm as he idly kicks a rock, the dull thud punctuating his melancholy thoughts. cupid is so dumb. his heart, burdened with a gravity far surpassing the load of his overstuffed bag, threatens to pull him into an abyss of despair. oblivious to the world around him, he fixates on the ground, unaware to the approaching footsteps until a familiar voice pierces through the fog of his depression.
"satoru!"
startled, he lifts his gaze to find you, breathless and flushed, struggling to catch your breath as you call out to him. your cheeks glow with exertion, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath as you double over, hands braced on your knees. it takes several moments for you to regain your composure, during which he can only watch, concern etched deeply into his features.
"i've... huff been trying to call you for... the past ten minutes! why didn't... you pick up?" you exclaim, frustration evident in your voice as you finally manage to catch your breath. he fumbles for his phone, realization dawning as he sees the numerous missed calls from your number, his heart sinking with a pang of guilt for inadvertently ignoring your attempts to reach him.
"oh... sorry," he mumbles, embarrassment lacing his tone as he rubs the back of his head. "what are you doing here? how did your confession go?" his attempt at nonchalance rings hollow, the weight of his own unspoken feelings casting a shadow over his words.
"actually… i haven't confessed yet," you admit softly, your gaze flickering away from his as you reach into your bag. you hesitate for a second, but take a deep breath as you try to calm your pounding heart. intrigued, he watches as you withdraw a delicate baby blue bouquet of lilies, with it, attached a card, adorned with intricate bows. the sight warms his heart more than he cares to admit, the lilies adorning the card outshining even the most extravagant displays of affection he's received.
"i know you probably have countless girls vying for your attention, but i wanted to take a chance," you confess nervously, your words tumbling out in a rush, unable to make eye contact. "i hope you don't mind that i chose blue instead of pink. it just felt… more like you." your vulnerability touches him in a way he hadn't expected, a swell of emotions rising within him at the sincerity of your words.
"i like you. a lot. i like your laugh, it's so pretty. i love seeing you smile, i always wanna be here for you. ...will you be my valentine, 'toru?" your voice wavers with uncertainty as you await his response, but when he remains silent, you meet his gaze, searching for any hint of what he might be feeling. to your surprise, his cheeks flush a deeper shade of crimson, his hand instinctively rising to cover his mouth as he struggles to find the words.
you almost feel like you've permanently short-circuited him when he gently cups your cheeks, a smile brimming with innocence gracing his lips.
"i thought you'd never ask," he murmurs, his lips forming a playful pout. he's tantalizingly close to kissing you, but then he deliberately pulls away, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your slightly annoyed expression.
"what?" he huffs, his thumb tracing along your bottom lip teasingly. "you teased me the entire day; don't you think it's my turn?" you're on the verge of offering retorting when you feel the gentle pressure of his lips against yours, drawing you into a tender, unexpected kiss. your cheeks flush with the rush of being caught off guard; he always had a knack for keeping you on your toes. he tastes like coconuts and cream and everything sweet, and you can't help but sink into his embrace.
your valentine. you can't think of anything sweeter.
...even if he does tease you for your sappy letter later.
© SUNTORU 2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.
#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#satoru x you#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo fluff#jjk fluff
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S/O being extra sweet to the baby monkeys with Wukong + Macaque (separately)
Sun Wukong
He’s going to be jealous since yes your playing and getting along with his siblings is adorable but why aren’t you giving him attention? He’s right here and will would cuddle you and give you all the affection you asked for if you said so. You do give him a lot of affection and attention when you aren’t at your job or busy, staying at FFM when MK trains and you reminding them to take breaks to stay hydrated since the man doesn’t stay hydrated as much as he should.
Once in a while, Wukong has to not so subtly ask his successor to bring you with him so he can spend time with you and totally not show off plan more dates since he’s still learning how to use the phone MK gave him after the whole Azure nearly ending the world disaster. Back to the monkeys residing on Flower Fruit Mountain; you give them extra special food than they’d normally have (search up food that monkeys can have as treats that won’t kill or hurt them) and give them scritches where they want.
Playing games like hide and seek, tag, soccer, or simple toss is nothing new however the smaller monkeys adore it and use ripened fruit as a ball. If you asked Wukong, who you’d have to bribe with some kisses or a night of cuddling, he’d tell you they ask him when you’re coming back and if you can play with them more.
Putting aside his jealousy it is incredibly heartwarming to see you bonding with his siblings and reminds him that might be what it’s like if you had a family with him. That though is something that pops up whenever you interact with them and if you catch him staring you’ll see his tail shaped like a heart.
Six eared Macaque
He’s not as jealous as Wukong is because he isn’t at FFM often unless it’s because of MK or a world-ending disaster and he likes how soft and cute you are when many of the monkeys climb all over you like you’re a jungle gym. Especially when you feign innocence of “stealing” a fruit like a peach or banana that one of them left lying around which ends in them running after you until they tackle looking for said fruit. Of course, you’ve switched it up by throwing the fruit to your boyfriend who instinctively caught it and then pretended that he stole it from you, which since most of the monkeys were fond of you they helped you and a good amount of them managed to latch onto Macaque.
Other times when it’s sunny you and some of the cubs are napping in the sun comfortably with you sleeping on your lover’s shoulder and many white monkeys curled up on some part of your body. He’s never really fully asleep more like in a relaxed or meditative state due to how sensitive his hearing is in addition to being vulnerable but when he looks over to you and sees how peaceful and adorable you look. He doesn’t want to move you but if it gets cold or looks like it’s going to storm then he’ll pick you up bridal style and the cubs that fall or aren’t on you when you’re picked up are carried by his tail.
You have begged him to spend a night or so on FFM to see the baby monkeys more but that means Macaque would have to ask Wukong and both parties don’t wanna do it unless they have to. Luckily for you, there have been times when a storm rolls in and with some pleading, he helped you gather the monkeys around you into a nearby cave till the storm let up which wasn’t that hard given they love you and you’re adorably sweet to them.
#lmk x reader#lmk macaque#lmk macaque x reader#lmk sun wukong#lmk sun wukong x reader#lego monkie kid#lego monkie kid x reader#macaque x reader
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i knew you'd come back to me
tags: getting back together, vague allusions to angst, timeskip reunion, ambiguous? ending 880 words
a/n: hope u enjoy anon. based on cardigan
it’s been six years since you last saw rin itoshi.
six years since the day he turned his back on you without looking back, leaving behind the remains of your fragile relationship.
but now that you’ve grown - and gotten through life just fine on your own- you’re not sure what that long-gone relationship really had been. if it ever affected him the way it affected you.
and yet, at a small shitty parisian bar several thousand miles aways from home, you see rin itoshi again, and everything changes.
for you could recognize the shape and angles of his face from oceans away, and he knows the same. shocked recognition flares through rin’s eyes (still beautiful, still so intense).
the two of you are young again, and it used to be-
sneaking out of school early so he could practice drills while you did homework on the bleachers-
his hands interlaced with yours, form trembling as the both of you agreed that an era in the itoshi household had ended forever-
your hand on his wrist, his feet dragging in the wet sand while he half heartedly argued against entering the cold waters-
him opening your christmas gift, a luxury cologne that had taken you two months to save up for-
you and him in your living room, horror movie blaring on the screen while he pretended to be annoyed at your screaming-
him packing a duffel bag with his best worn football cleats and a mysterious invitation while you mulled over the best way to say a temporary goodbye-
you cheering his name in a stadium crowded with his brother’s legacy, unaware as something in his heart broke and was reforged anew-
the two of you were sixteen, and rin itoshi was telling you to not wait for him again.
with an ice cold voice, he had left the dregs of your relationship behind.
but six years is a long time to hold a grudge- so you don’t. you were both young, with nothing but the cruelty and arrogance that came with being young.
you aren't sixteen years old anymore.
so you don’t blame rin itoshi for breaking your heart. instead, you meet his eyes head-on and smile, hoping he can taste your forgiveness.
you think he might. for rin almost flinches away, his eyes still flashing over you like he can’t believe you’re really there.
“hey, rin.” and you let him back in.
“y/n,” he says slowly. “you’re here. in paris.”
the barkeeper slides you a drink wordlessly. you tilt your head. a small part of you marvels inwardly at how tall he is. “so are you. small world, isn't it?”
rin blinks, gaze flickering once to the small glass, and you’ve known the confusion in his voice since years ago. “i live here.”
you don’t know that one. “oh,” you manage, too awkwardly. the bass of the music almost drowns out your words. “paris? i wouldn't have taken you for the type.”
his confusion turns into straight disbelief, face furrowing. “what? no, not like-” he clears his throat. “for the football team. pxg? i’m the starting striker.”
“that does seem more fitting,” you pick up your glass. “so you did it? blue lock worked out?”
rin doesn’t respond immediately, searching your face carefully. in the tense pause, you throw back at least half of your cup. “you really don’t know?”
“well, it wasn't like i wanted to subscribe to that show,” his face stiffens at your words. “if im being honest, the only thing i even know about japanese football now is that we think isagi’s the great hope of us all.”
rin’s face shifts immediately to a display of impressive annoyance. “don't believe that crap.”
you bite down on your laughter. “i don't feel that strongly about it.”
your phone buzzes in your pocket. his eyes trace your movements as you pull it out, skimming the notification.
“i should go.”
“already?” he blurts out, grimacing immediately after.
you raise an eyebrow. “i've been here. you just haven't seen me.”
“shitty place to spend your time.”
your heart twangs with the familiarity of his casual brashness. “sure. i’m glad to know you’re doing well, rin. see you in another six years?”
he doesn't respond. with a sigh, you leave .
there’s no point in looking back. you push past sweaty bodies, an emotion you can't quite place roaring in your ears.
it was over. it had been over. you had already long accepted it to be over, so why did it still burn to turn away?
a hand wraps around your wrist, firm.
you whirl around-
rin’s eyes meet yours with a breath-stopping intensity, desperately searching for something. “i’m sorry.”
the music is too loud. you blink rapidly. “what?”
he leans in closer to you, and you realize he still wears the same cologne. “you were too good for me. and i’m sorry for what i did to you.”
you step backward, heart thudding with the rhythm of a song years paused. “i don't- rin?”
his hand is still on your wrist. “it’s always been you, y/n, and i don't know why it took so long to realize. but i was a fucking idiot.”
you swallow.
rin itoshi meets your gaze. “one more try.”
the lights flash a dozen different colors, and you hear yourself answer.
#hydrobunny#blue lock#blue lock x reader#itoshi rin x reader#rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi#i can't tell if this is really good or really bad but#i should not be posting this on monday night but lol!!
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love will find a way
Characters: Riddle, Deuce, Azul, Vil
Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?
Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread
Word count: 3.6k+
Notes: for cohesiveness sake, all the name ideas are in japanese. if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese hehe
Part 1✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist
A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.
Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.
On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—
Yoshikazu (義和) with 義 meaning "righteous" and 和 meaning "harmony, peace"
your son had straight strawberry-red hair and greyish-blue eyes that reminded you of the stormy skies
Riddle's strong belief in upholding the rules, as well as his desire for peace and order, made the name perfect for your boy
he strives for perfection in everything he does, and has a strong attention to detail and dislikes anything that falls short of his high standards
he is slightly shy with strangers, but he's always polite and tries to be helpful
he likes to act mature so you won’t have to worry too much about him, but he not so secretly craves your affection and praise
if you don’t give him a goodnight kiss, he’ll stare at you with puppy eyes thinking he did something wrong
under your guidance, he’s actually rather helpful in the kitchen, although he can easily get upset when he thinks he did a poor job or wasn’t precise enough
in those moments, you often show him that not everything has to be absolutely perfect
see? the strawberry tart still tastes delicious, right?
he’s also rather quick at learning, and when you’re unsure about the magic concepts or formulae in your foggy memory, let him work at it for a bit and somehow, boom, he’s solved it
he tries to hide it, but his eyes are sparkling with admiration when you told him about the dedicated and fair man Riddle is, and he really wants to meet him
and through his hard work, he teleports the two of you into a well-lit and organised office, with stacks of papers placed neatly on the desk
Riddle sits at the desk, his face more angular having lost his baby fat, but his gaze remained as intense as it always had
Riddle meticulously reviews a case file, his focus unwavering as he flips through the pages. Suddenly, a swirl of iridescent light materialises in the corner of the room, catching his attention. He pushes himself away from the desk, knocking his chair backwards with a thud as he stands up, watching in disbelief as you emerge from the ethereal portal, a small boy clinging onto you tightly.
"My Rose…is it...is it truly you?" Riddle's voice wavers with a combination of astonishment and longing. His stormy grey eyes lock onto your gaze, searching for confirmation that this was indeed real.
His heart swells with a surge of emotions, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He takes hesitant steps forward, closing the distance between you. As he reaches out a trembling hand, he hesitates for a fraction of a second before wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, pulling you close.
"I've missed you so much," Riddle whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I've yearned for this moment, to hold you again, to see your face."
after the heartfelt reunion, Riddle leaves work early and takes a holiday, something he has never done before for reasons other than sickness
he takes the two of you back to his house and you spend some time catching up
he’s become a successful lawyer, having deviated from the path his mother had intended for him
that, along with his refusal to be in an arranged marriage by her will, has him basically disowned
but he’s happy with where he is in life, only he wished to find a love as fulfilling as the one he had with you
now that you’re back, Riddle does everything he can to support you in adjusting to life back with him
he’s super expressive and affectionate and savours every moment he has with you
he does get a little jealous of Yoshikazu getting all your affection, and this has resulted in all three of you sleeping together cuddled up
Riddle tries to learn how to cook because he can’t be worse than his son right??
wrong
but the two of them do get along really well, Riddle loves reading bedtime stories to Yoshikazu, and Yoshikazu tries so hard to stay awake till the end
Yoshikazu also loves visiting uncle trey’s bakery!
eventually, he might try to reconcile with his mother and have her meet the two of you, but his priority is on the two of you
Riddle's eyes show a mix of emotions, a kaleidoscope of love, regret, and gratitude. He bends down, his hands trembling, to meet Yoshikazu's gaze. A cascade of emotions surges through him as he realises the precious bond he had unknowingly missed out on.
"My child," Riddle whispers, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "I never imagined..."
Yoshikazu reaches out a tiny hand, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Riddle's heart melts as he gingerly takes his hand, feeling an overwhelming wave of love and protectiveness.
"Father?" Yoshikazu's voice was a gentle whisper, filled with innocence and trust.
Riddle's eyes shimmer with tears that threaten to spill over. He carefully extends his hand, allowing his small fingers to intertwine with his own.
"Yes," Riddle replies, his voice overflowing with tenderness. "I am honoured to be your father. I will protect you, guide you, and cherish you always, my precious bud."
Koushi (功志) with 功 meaning "a success, a great achievement" and 志 meaning "purpose, will, determination, aspiration, ambition"
your son had sleek dark hair that reminded you of the night sky, and bright cyan eyes
Deuce placed great importance on personal growth and the pursuit of success, valuing hard work and the satisfaction that comes from achieving one's goals, so you implemented those values into your son's name
he takes his tasks and activities seriously and is motivated to excel in everything he does
but at the same time, he also struggles with being patient and occasionally becomes frustrated when things don't go his way
there are many times you’re trying to console him, and he’s just standing there, fists clenched and trying to hold back tears
when you rub the back of his head though, he melts and starts crying into your chest
he can be impulsive and mischievous, but once the high passes, he’s apologising and he really didn’t mean to hurt anyone or anything
just like his father, his favourite food is egg dishes, so it’s not difficult cooking for him
generally, he’s not picky and gobbles up anything you make him except vegetables
yeahh, the vegetables are going to need some convincing, and he’ll make a big show about how he hates the taste, but still reluctantly swallows his greens
he’s not the brightest, but he strives to be the best he can be, eagerly practising and studying magic concepts, though he faces some challenges in grasping complex concepts quickly
he became so curious when you told him how much his father valued hard work, asking question after question to learn more about him
and through trial and error, somehow, he managed to teleport you to a street of residential buildings, the fresh scent of roses filling your senses
and Deuce stood in shock in front of you, looking more mature and yet still possessing that dorky lovable presence
Deuce, donned in his crisp uniform, patrols the streets with a focused gaze. As he turns a corner, his eyes widen and his heart skips a beat. There, before him, stands the silhouette of a familiar figure, obscured by the shimmering waves of nostalgia, accompanied by a small boy.
"Prefect… I’m not dreaming, am I?" Deuce murmurs, his voice tinged with disbelief and a touch of vulnerability. His pulse quickens, and he takes a tentative step forward, his hands trembling with both trepidation and longing.
Tears well up in his eyes as you nod, a mixture of emotions playing across your face. The weight of your absence suddenly lifts, and without a second thought, Deuce closes the distance between you, his arms enveloping you in a tight embrace.
"You're here. You're really here," Deuce whispers, his voice choked with emotion. He presses his forehead against yours, savouring the moment and the warmth of your presence.
once Deuce has calmed down, he takes you back to his house, where he lives with his mom to take care of her more
Deuce has become a successful police officer, and he’s decided to work in his hometown to keep the neighbourhood safe for his mom
after a quick introduction to Mrs. Spade, she’s very happy to meet you and her grandson
though she does glare at Deuce for a bit given you had to raise Koushi alone
she immediately starts gushing over Koushi and how similar he is to Deuce when he was a kid
Koushi is a little confused, but you can tell he loves listening to his grandmother and hearing about his father as an infant
Deuce can’t just leave his job whenever he wants to, but he dedicates all of his free time to the two of you
after work, he’ll take Koushi on runs, and sometimes they’ll pick a bouquet of wildflowers from a nearby field to give to you and Mrs. Spade
on weekends, you often go on family outings, like visiting the aquarium, camping, or visiting old friends!
uncle ace is Koushi’s favourite, teaching him magic tricks and telling him all the embarrassing things Deuce did back in NRC
and though Deuce had never prepared himself for parenting, he’s doing his best and making sure the two of you are happy, just like he is with the family all together
Deuce breaks the embrace and drops to one knee, his eyes meeting the Koushi's. A mixture of awe and tenderness dances in his gaze as he extends a hand toward the small boy. "Hey there, little guy. I'm your dad. My name's Deuce. What’s your name?" he asks, his voice gentle.
Koushi steps forward, hesitantly reaching out to grasp Deuce's hand. "Koushi," he answers meekly. A spark of connection passes between them, a shared understanding and an unspoken bond.
Tears stream down his cheeks as he continues, his voice filled with a mix of joy and remorse. "Koushi, I'm sorry it took me so long, to be the father you deserved. But from this moment on, I promise you, I'll be there for every step of your journey. We'll make up for lost time together, yeah?"
Akuru (渥瑠) with 渥 meaning "kindness, moisten" and 瑠 meaning "lapis lazuli"
your daughter had clear aquamarine eyes that reminded you of the sparkling ocean, and silver locks that curled naturally to frame her face
Azul had always adhered to the spirit of benevolence, so the name seemed perfect
she's quite a shy little girl, when she's in front of strangers, she'll ask you to carry her so she can hide her face in your neck
there's no way you can resist when she's staring at you with such bright eyes, her tiny arms reaching up for you to hold her
she's extremely greedy for affection just like Azul was once he let his guard down around you
she has the squishiest cheeks!!!
she also tends to observe and listen rather than being the centre of attention
but when she's alone with you, it's evident she inherited Azul's sharp intellect and has a natural aptitude for academics
you often told her about the brilliant man her father is, how hard he worked so he could become a version of himself he was proud of
the way her eyes sparkled when she heard about him reminded you of Azul's ambitious looks when he's making deals
incredibly talented at magic, she understood everything so quickly and it wasn't too long until you couldn't be much help to her anymore
but worry not, because she has brought the two of you back to your dearest lover by some accident in her experiments
Azul is sitting in a dimly lit office, his dark eye circles are evident, but he looked more beautiful than you had ever seen him
Azul sits at his desk fully engrossed in work, his quill gliding swiftly across the parchment. A sudden gust of magic sweeps through the air, causing Azul to stand in alarm, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. But as the magical energy settles, his hand freezes mid-air, his eyes widening in disbelief as your figure emerges.
His breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. "It... can't be... Can it?", he whispers as he manoeuvres himself over to you, his legs trembling as if it was his first time on land.
You reach out to take his hand, your familiar warmth and presence casting away the doubt in him. His eyes well up with tears, and a radiant smile spreads across his face.
"Oh, Angelfish... You're here...", he cries as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you.
he's so emotional he can't stop crying
it's to the point where his tears are slightly inky
he wishes he was in his merform so he could hug the two of you properly at the same time
it's at this point jade and floyd bust into the room to see the three of you huddled together on the floor
the two of them start teasing Azul for being a crybaby, but you can tell they're genuinely happy for him
Azul, as he had planned back in NRC, had conquered all forms of business, forming an incredibly successful corporation
now that he has the two of you back though, he immediately takes a break from work so he can make up for the time lost
Azul's a bit awkward, and he's so afraid you've found someone new or don't love him anymore
but with time, and plenty of your affection, he's loving and comfortable and completely at ease with you, just like the old days
he uses this break to spend time together with you two as a family, going on family outings, discovering hobbies, etc.
takes the two of you to the coral sea to meet mama ashengrotto
oh she loves you and can't stop spoiling Akuru
he makes a lot of effort to be present in Akuru's life, and he wants nothing more than for her to be happy
and fortunately, Akuru is very comfortable with Azul, though it takes time for her to trust him on the same level as you
but you've got all the time in the world to love and grow with your dear family now
bonus: uncle jade and uncle floyd who always bring out the ambitious side of Akuru!
Azul's breath catches in his throat as he looks down at the small girl peeking from behind your legs, his heart swelling with a love he had never thought possible. Akuru's innocent eyes meet his, mirroring his own shades of blue.
"Hello, Akuru," he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and awe. He crouches down to her level, his eyes locked with hers. "I... I'm your father. It’s nice to meet you."
Akuru's small hand reaches out, hesitantly brushing against his cheek. The touch sends shivers down Azul's spine, his heart bursting with overwhelming emotions. Tears spill freely down his cheeks as his arms wrap around her fragile frame.
"I've missed so much... I'm so sorry," Azul says, his voice laced with remorse. Akuru nestles closer, burying her face in the crook of Azul's neck, as if instinctively seeking solace in the embrace of her father. "Oh, I promise you, my dear, I will make up for lost time. I will protect you, love you, and be the father you deserve."
Misaki (望咲) with 望 meaning "ambition, hope, desire" and 咲 meaning "bloom, blossom, flourish"
your daughter had silky blonde, hair and violet eyes reminded you of the lavender plant Vil kept in his room
you knew through Vil's dedication towards beauty and his strictness that he values hard work and effort, and so you named your daughter hoping she would flourish in whatever ambitions she pursued
like her father, she carries herself with a certain regal air that’s beyond her age
she's incredibly strict with herself, though occasionally you'll have to tell her to relax a bit and be more carefree
she listens to you a lot though, she loves making her mommy proud!
and though she might put up a front and act confident with strangers, when she's alone with you, she's surprisingly docile and affectionate
she is enchanted by the media and drawn to acting, always reenacting scenes from movies or shows you watched with her
she asks for bedtime stories every night, but it’s more of the two of you doing a dramatic reading and playing around with character voices
she also loves to play around with different hairstyles and outfits, and even experimenting with your makeup
though she’s rather displeased with her lacklustre makeup skills, she loves it when you do her makeup for her, making her feel like a star
she’s incredibly smart and fast to pick up on the magical concepts, though she’s slower with practical magic
when you told her about the meticulous and dedicated man her father was, she was fascinated by how confident and strong he sounded
and with diligent practice, it isn’t long before she manages to teleport you to a well-lit room with a modern design
Vil is sitting on the couch studying his latest movie, his hair is in a messy bun and he is wearing glasses and he is the most beautiful person you have ever seen
As Vil stares at the television analysing his performance, the tranquillity of the moment is abruptly shattered by a sudden burst of light. His heart skips a beat as he turns towards the source, his eyes widening in disbelief. There, standing before him, is the person who had occupied his thoughts and dreams for the past years, with a sweet-looking child next to them.
"Is it really you, darling?" His voice trembles with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. He takes a hesitant step forward, his polished facade momentarily crumbling as he reaches out to confirm the reality of your presence.
Your eyes meet, and in that instant, a whirlwind of emotions surged through his being, threatening to overwhelm his senses. He swallows hard, trying to compose himself. "It's... it's been so long," Vil's voice cracks with raw emotion, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I've missed you every day, every moment."
Vil is the most emotional you’ve ever seen him, even when you had bid each other farewell at the mirror, he had been more composed
but here he’s completely vulnerable and crying tears of joy
once he’s calmed down a bit, he immediately calls his manager to reschedule whatever plans he had because of ‘family emergencies’
since you left, vil has been completely invested in his acting career and has landed a few roles as the main character, though some of them were still villainous
he’s super affectionate and relaxed with you, always instinctively reaching out for you to confirm you’re really there
and he’s super cute with Misaki!! Misaki always goes to him for makeup and styling her hair, but she likes going to you for brushing her hair when it’s tangled
mini drama sessions at home where it’s the three of you playing out scenes from a fairytale
vil is the ‘only the best for my princess’ type of father
he’s very careful with outings so the paparazzi or the media won't just sabotage your family dates, he’s determined to spend quality time with his two darlings
takes you to meet papa schoenheit, who adores you for making vil so happy, and absolutely spoils Misaki with clothes and accessories
you’ll have to be the strict parent to make sure she’s not too spoiled
not to mention uncle rook who absolutely worships the ground she walks on and cannot resist her requests
Vil's gaze flickers to the child standing beside you, her innocent eyes mirroring his own. A rush of emotions washes over him, as he finally comprehends the magnitude of the moment. His voice trembles with tenderness as he kneels down, extending a hand towards her. "Is this... our child?" His voice holds a hint of awe and wonder, his heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose.
Misaki's eyes widen, taking a tentative step forward to try and comprehend this newfound connection. "Are you like the daddies in the shows that come back to the family?" she asks, her voice tinged with innocence and wonder.
A brief look of confusion flashes by, before a warm smile graces Vil's lips as he reaches out, gently brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Yes, darling," he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and determination. "I am here now, and I promise I'll never leave you. I will be there for you, guide you, and cherish every moment we share, just like the fathers in the shows."
Part 1✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist
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PERISH
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader Word count: 1.6k Tags/warnings: no y/n; manga spoilers (post Shibuya timeline); canon-compliant; angst; death; emotional breakdown; hurt/no comfort; loss; grief Summary: For the first time in a long time, Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks. Happy start of JJKS2 writing week.
event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi
November 2018 8 minutes until Satoru Gojo’s unsealing
"Don’t worry, I’ll make it on time. I’m right behind the corner."
"We can wait," Yuji’s voice carries through the car, the static of the Bluetooth speaker occasionally cracking.
It feels like years have passed since you last saw him. Sealed away in the prison realm, Gojo’s state remains a mystery. There’s no telling how being locked in a place where time and space don’t exist can affect even the strongest minds.
That’s what worries you. What if he’ll break? What if he goes crazy on all of you? What if he explodes; wipes you all out with his technique? An endless sea of ‘what if’ swirls inside your mind as you take another turn, the mountains on your left with an ocean view on your right.
"Don’t," you reassure the youngster, "don’t wait any longer."
"You should be here, though," Megumi jumps into the conversation, "You’re closest to that idiot. He’ll want to see you."
His words draw a smile on your lips. It’s finally happening. The sleepless nights are coming to an end with the arrival of your lover.
"Then I’ll just opt for a dramatic entrance while you keep him busy," you respond before tightening your hands on the wheel. A familiar feeling washes over you; sudden knowledge of a new presence. Heart picking up, your eyes search the road for the source while the car’s speed slowly drops.
32 seconds; that’s how long it takes you to locate the source. A curse spirit manifestation stands in the middle of the road, blocking you. Its small hunched build stands a mere meter above the ground; four arms decorated by translucent fins hanging by its body, the prehnite skin glistening in the last rays of today’s sun, giving off a wet, moist appearance.
"Boys," you announce, stopping Yuji’s and Megumi’s bickering while still keeping up the cheerful, light voice in an attempt to not raise suspicions about your current predicament, "don’t wait any longer. Unseal Satoru and stop worrying ‘bout me. It’ll be fine."
Bringing the car to a slow halt, Yuji’s tone shifts into a more attentive one as your name seeps through the speaker before you hang up after one more reassurance.
As you step out of the vehicle, the curse's malevolence engulfs the air, almost tangible in its intensity. It clings to the atmosphere like a poisonous fog, penetrating your senses with a pungent sulfuric odor that threatens to overwhelm you.
Your hand slips inside your jacket to retrieve a carefully preserved seal, reserved for such precarious situations; just like this one.
"I’m sorry," with every footfall, the curse seems to shrink in size, yet its malicious nature grows stronger, the smell of sulfur almost suffocating, "but I’m in a hurry right now and you," pointing the parchment paper towards the spirit, "are in my way."
Swift and precise, your movements carry an aura of practiced precision. With little effort, you firmly press the seal upon the spirit's head, causing it to stumble momentarily before dissipating into thin air, vanquished by the power contained within the sigil.
Yet, the energy lingers.
Stronger than before. Stronger than a second ago. Its absent defense, non-existent attempt to fight or flee…it all makes sense now —
A powerful grip; a strong hand adorned with talons as keen as the finest blades dig into your shoulder as an inhuman force pushes you to the side.
As you're thrust aside, your vision catches a subtle glimmer of chrysolite, a hue that seeps into your perception; its scales are sturdy, each edge honed to a dangerous sharpness. Driven by instinct and the will to protect yourself, you reach out, your hand making contact with the curse spirit’s scaly hide.
The jagged edges of its scales cut into the delicate flesh of your fingers, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.
— it was a decoy.
Your body collides with the unforgiving side of the mountain, back meeting the rough and unyielding surface. A symphony of pain resonates within your bones, their structural integrity compromised as multiple cracks reverberate through your form.
Gasping for breath, your body instinctively seeks solace, but find none amidst the terrain. The curse doesn’t wait either. Swiftly moving forward, it lunges at you. Unforgiving. With a clear intent to strike. To kill.
During Satoru Gojo’s unsealing
There is no pain. The moment the curse’s hand breaches the barrier of your chest, you expect it. Expect some kind of visceral reaction. But there’s none — a gentle pinch, akin to a fleeting touch when the sharp claws first pierce through the protective layers of your breastplate. A slight discomfort upon the feeling of having a foreign object that’s found its place within the confines of your ribs. The barrier of your rib cage offers minimal resistance, yielding to the relentless advance that seeks to reach the very core of your being. The heart.
It all feels confusing.
"Kenjaku sends his regards," it whispers, the words slurred by the razor-sharp fangs that protrude from its mouth.
October 31, 2018 — 8:09 PM
"What’s the worst that can happen?"
Satoru saunters around the corner of the table, his presence punctuated by the audible slurping of juice from a small cartoon container. All while your palms rest on top of the said furniture, fingernails tapping at the surface.
The news has spread fast through the jujutsu community, faster than wildfire. Whispers of an unknown curtain cast around Shibuya an hour ago, trapping all non-sorcerers, innocent civilians, inside its insidious grasp with only one demand: Bring Satoru Gojo.
"Don’t say it like that, Satoru," you turn to face the man whose casual and dismissive demeanor only adds fuel to the worries setting inside your bones.
"They’re a bunch of curses," his hand finds its place on your hip bone while placing the empty container away, "Some special grades, yeah, but they’re weak compared to me. I’ll deal with them, save some people in the meantime, and bam," he snaps his fingers loudly, "We can go home. Get that sunset date you’ve been babbling about. Life is good," he finishes with a kiss on the crown of your head.
Life is good.
You watch the sun dip below the horizon behind the curse spirit’s back, indulging the sinister being in a halo glow.
Yeah. In the end, life was good.
2 hours and 48 minutes after Satoru Gojo’s unsealing
For a moment, he stands still. Unable to look down; frozen in time. The weight of it all seems to bear down upon his shoulders – now that Sukuna’s taken over Megumi’s body, Nanami’s and Yaga’s death, Suguru’s body being used as a vessel, the slow crumbling fall of the Jujutsu world – and now you; being gone.
Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of the current time. Yet even his immense power proves futile as the people he loves keep dying on him…because of him.
A burden that threatens to crush him beneath its insurmountable gravity.
The air around him hangs heavy with sorrow, as if the very essence of grief has manifested itself in the atmosphere. A storm of emotions swirls within him; a combination of disbelief, anguish and a gnawing ache that gnashes at the core of his being.
He clenches his fists, fingers trembling with a mixture of sorrow and determination. In that agonizing moment, he finds the strength to finally lower his gaze, to confront the devastating truth that lies at his feet.
Everyone holds their breaths, the weight of his misery echoing in the silence as his eyes meet the lifeless visage of the one he holds dearest.
Of you.
Hand reaching out, his fingers graze the once-soft flesh of your hand; now cold and stiff. It serves as a confirmation of reality. There’s no getting you back, no way Shoko can nurture you back to health with her technique.
You’re gone.
And in that harrowing instant, the façade crumbles. The walls he built to contain his pain come crashing down, and Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks.
Crumbling down on his knees, the vulnerability that spills forth from his broken form is raw and unrestrained. Only a handful of those closest to him stand behind to witness the symphony of torment that pierces the silence. Tears stream down his face, each drop carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words, moments you two could’ve spent together.
One hand covering his mouth to silence the guttural sounds, the other reaches out to you, tenderly cradling your lifeless head upon his lap. He clings to the fragile hope that if he could provide just enough warmth and love, you might return to him.
Yuji looks around the room, at the people who silently observe their friend fall apart. Taking a step towards the hunched man, a soft grasp stops him mid step; Kiyotaka shakes his head, pushing his glasses back in place as Shoko looks down. For the first time, she’s unable to figure out her classmate, her childhood friend, the man whose side she’s always stayed by.
"Gojo," Yuji doesn’t allow Kiyotaka to stop him. Believing in what’s right, he stands behind his teacher’s back.
Hand laying on the tense muscle of his shoulder, he doesn’t attempt to comfort Satoru with any words — no words in this universe would bring you back anyway. Instead, his hand just rests there. Unmoving. Gentle.
"Who did it," his words cause Shoko to look back up as Satoru, stone-faced and stoic, speaks in a firm, devoid voice. Imagines of unspeakable horror flashes in his mind as he stands up, towering over the wide-eyed Yuji.
"Tell me now," his eyes search Kiyotaka’s, voice filled with undeniable authority, "I’ll kill them, kill them all."
#fun fact this is the first time I’m actually writing death and mourning#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo angst#gojo fluff#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk angst#gojo satoru angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x you#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#moni writes#moni's writing week#jjk writing week#angst
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How Deep Is Your Love?
come to me on a winter breeze, keep me warm in your love ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆˙
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ pairing: wen junhui x f.reader ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ genre: established relationship, fluff, smut (R: mdni 18+) ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ wordcount: 1.5k
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ summary: jun is your biggest fan, and he'd rather spend his new years worshipping you than spend time doing anything else. ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ tags/smut tags: whipped!jun, established relationship, readers birthday is jan 1st, new years fic, birthday sex, dom!jun, sub!reader, oral (f. receiving), multiple rounds, rough sex, multiple rounds, spanking, reader is in love with jun's adams apple. ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ note: for my jumepi, @junkissed, happy birthday to the oomf that i share my one brain cell with. sharks, im giving you 100% of my company for 10 dabloons. anyways enough silly talk, happy bday jumepi i've already read your comments on the doc and this is my second time posting this lawl. love u sm my queen of huihuis, enjoy your day ♡ (ps jun's balls are non returnable to ammazon). a special thank u to @monamipencil for beta-reading, ily!
“Don’t you think we left too early?” You mutter in between gasps of pleasure.
The vibrations flowing from Jun’s mouth are hot on your neck as he peppers kisses against your supple skin. He had no reason to stay, not when he could spend time worshiping your body.
He couldn’t care less about his friend's protests as he rushed the both of you home, ready to give in to his most carnal desires. There was no better way than spending New Year's Day and your birthday tangled between the sheets of your shared apartment.
As he hastily removes your outerwear and his own, he finds himself slipping into your shared routine. First your coat, then your shoes, then his, and so on… all while his large palms search for the dip in your waist. Jun grips you tightly as his lips capture yours in earnest. The universe knew what they were doing, sending you to him. How else is he meant to spend New Year's if not within your tight cunt?
“I don’t care if the guys are mad we left early, this is your day.” Jun grunts, wrapping your legs around his torso before making his way to your bedroom.
“This happens every year, don’t you want to spend the New Year differently?” you retort, but he can only shake his head in protest.
“If it doesn’t include worshipping my hot girlfriend then I don’t care,” he replies, pulling back to stare at you earnestly.
Whatever argument you had built on the tip of your tongue dies as he presses your heat against his growing member. The moan that erupts from your throat is raw and high-pitched, a melodic symphony to your boyfriend’s ears.
As the two of you reach your bed, he throws you onto the mattress, knowing how much you love it when he showcases his strength in front of you. The mere thought of overpowering you while slipping himself into your wet hole leaves his cock twitching with desire.
“Who gave you the right to be so corny?” you snort, propping yourself on the mattress as you watch Jun discard whatever clothing he had left.
“Like I said, I can’t help it. Gotta show my baby how much I appreciate her,” he shrugs, dipping down into the bed with you.
His nose rubs against yours affectionately, savouring your saccharine scent. Jun is left dizzy with lust, and most importantly love. One could only hope to feel the same amount of affection he does for you. From the top of your head to the very tip of your toes, he adores everything about you. Fuck everything else, he only needs one thing, one person.
You.
With his mind swimming, he drowns himself in your warmth. Fingers tracing the outlines of your bare stomach, trying his best to remove your sweater from your body.
“Enough teasing, please baby,” you whine.
Jun didn’t think he was teasing at all, but he could never deny himself of your requests. Especially when you talk with such a needy tone.
As much as he wanted to savour every crevice of your body, he couldn’t delay himself even further. The button of your jeans unclasp, and they’re off your legs within seconds. The denim flies across the room as Jun dives back into your neck, red marks blooming in his wake.
Your head lolls back, giving him more room to work with. While his breath is hot along your skin, Jun’s hands grip the meat of your thighs. His hands shift higher until they’ve reached the apex of your awaiting sex.
The whine you let out causes Jun to groan in response, but there’s something more important that awaits him. Tongue sliding against your inner thighs, he indulges himself in the scent of your nectar. The tip of his nose bumps against your clit and he peppers kisses along your folds.
“F-fuck. Oh fuck! Baby–,” your barely comprehensible blabber is cut off the moment Jun sticks his wet tongue inside you.
Massaging your folds, he continues to play with your pussy till your legs shake around his head. Your fingers grip the root of his blond hair, his mind blank as he focuses on one thing only.
Handprints mark your thighs from the sheer strength he’s using to hold you in place, wanting you to succumb to the pleasure, to feel it in your core. Until the very moment your juices cover his lips and chin.
“You taste like heaven,” Jun groans from underneath you.
“J-just fuck me. Please, wanna cum with you,” you beg.
The breath in Jun’s throat hitches, pulling away from your sweet pussy, he sits on his heels. One hand wraps around his hardened length while the other continues to rub on your sensitive bud. Your eyes are lidded with desire, completely fucked out just for him.
He especially loves the way your cheeks flush whenever you're in a complete state of utter lust. The simple inhale and exhale of your breath, the way it causes your chest to heave in and out. One could only be this lucky to have you as their girlfriend. Jun can’t even come to comprehend what he has done to deserve your very being, but he can at least try to show you how deeply in love he is with you.
“You ready baby?” He asks, although he knows you simply can’t wait a second longer.
“Mhm, I love it when you fuck me hard. Will you do it for me? It’s almost my birthday you know,” you whisper, grabbing his hand to pull him over your body.
Jun’s eyebrows scrunch, his resolve weakened by your voice, your words.
“Fuck yes, gonna fuck you into the next year,” he mutters before grabbing your thighs once again.
Your hand snakes its way down between your bodies, his cock hard, pulsating with need. Jun pants above you, waiting for you to align him with your sopping hole.
The initial push into your tight cunt leaves him breathless, Jun’s thick cock stretching your inner walls with enough force that your eyebrows furrow with a mix of pain and pleasure. Forcing himself into you completely, he begins to move in and out with swift thrusts. The tip of his dick kissing your cervix every time his hips collide with yours.
“So f-fucking tight,” Jun practically growls, hypnotized by the way your cunt is squeezing him. He can barely breathe.
Pushing your thighs against your chest, Jun begins to pound into you incessantly. The backboard slams against the wall in tandem with his movements. He presses into you even further, wanting you to feel him in your stomach.
“J-Jun, fu-uck.” you moan out salaciously, your hands intertwined behind his neck.
Your lips move to his Adam’s apple, and his groans turn into whiny pants. You’ve always known that he was extra sensitive there, his length twitching inside you while you leave sloppy kisses absent-mindedly.
His thrusts turn erratic the more attention you pay to his Adam’s apple, and it’s not long before he’s spilling his cum inside you, rutting his hips as he fucks you through his high.
Although Jun can feel exhaustion wash over him, he doesn’t stop fucking your hot cunt. Hands grasp at your waist, turning you over until your ass is perfectly in his line of sight. A fistful of your hair forces your back to arch, his cock still red and angry as he pushes himself inside you once more.
“Think you can take more of my cum baby?” He mutters into your ear, tightening his grip on you.
“I can do it, I promise. Just fuck your cum into me,” you pant before a squeal leaves your lips. Jun’s free hand slaps your ass until it’s covered in handprints.
“Keep doing that, please. I’m gonna cum,” you beg for him again, eyes watering as you reach the apex of your orgasm.
Jun does as you ask, slapping you till he can feel your walls clench and unclench with every strike. The flow of juices coming from your pussy coats his cock, triggering another spurt of cum to release inside your spent hole.
Out of breath and balls emptied Jun slumps onto your back, engulfing you into a tight hug. He refuses to pull out, wanting to stay inside you forever if you allow it. He cranes his neck, the clock on the wall striking midnight. January first.
“Happy birthday baby, I love you,” Jun whispers in your ear, kissing the nape of your neck.
“I love you too, but can you get off my back? you’re crushing me.” Your face is planted into the pillows, voice muffled.
“Oh right, hehe sorry,” he chuckles sheepishly.
Finally pulling out of your dripping heat, he manhandles you until you're pressed up against his side—a content sigh leaving his lips. His chest blooms, bliss spreading throughout his limbs. Another year with the love of his life.
One could only hope to be in love in the same way he is with you.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ note: thank you for reading! although this is dedicated to june for her bday, i hope you enjoyed it too :) lmk what u think by leaving a comment or reblog hehe. see u soon - anna ♡
#seventeen#seventeen smut#jun smut#wen junhui#svthub#thediamondlifenetwork#hiraya m#seventeen fic#seventeen fanfic#svt smut#svt fanfic#seventeen fluff#jun fluff#jun x reader#jun fanfic
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vanilla-cherry sweetheart | h. sakura
✮ tags ; gender neutral + afab!reader, dom top!reader, sub bottom!sakura, explicit feminization (referring to sakuras ass as a pussy, dick as a clit. the pet name good girl etc.), light dollification (reader dresses him up), rimming, anal fingering, pegging, cumming untouched, lots of gender fuckery, BRIEF breeding kink / pregnancy reference directed at sakura, excessive dirty talk, mirror sex 18+
✮ wc ; 5.1k (im crazy im crazy im crazy)
✮ a/n ; there's no way im not ovulating. this is insane. sorry. also sorry if there are any egregious typos i can only read this once over before i feel like exploding
✮ synopsis ; you think sakura makes the prettiest girl.
The soft slip of silk and satin feel weird against Haruka’s skin.
You’ve put effort into this, more than he thought possible. Every detail of him has been preened and plucked. A soft scent rolls off of his freshly smooth skin, cherry and vanilla. His hair is styled down against, bangs laid flat as opposed to push backwards, decorated with clips and accessories.
He has a face full of makeup on which was a pain to apply and even more of a pain to not rub off. His lips are parted, polished with color and his eyes are lined with a soft brown. There’s some shadow underneath, some glittery dust but everything is generally subdued. He hasn’t seen what the hell he looks like and he thinks he’d prefer it that way.
Like hell he’d wanna see what perverted things you’ve done to his face.
His clothes feel the most unfamiliar to him. Boxers replaced with frilly boyshorts. Bra straps tugging against his shoulder. Expensive so the fabric doesn’t itch. The kind without cups, all loose and sliding against his nipples every time he shifts. He’s wearing clothes you’ve hand-picked. Dresses that girls usually wear. Skin-colored tights underneath a patterned slip dress with that he doesn’t have the full chest to fit into, accompanied by a sweater hanging off of his arms and shoulders.
All of these details on Haruka’s musculature make no sense. It can’t look very good on him, he thinks. Haruka has a hard body. Sinewy muscles from manual labor and fighting, a square set of shoulders. He’s always been thin and languid but not…feminine. He has no idea how to posture himself. In what ways he should sit or stand, how to behave with these soft clothes and light scents on his skin.
The delicacy of your hands as they paint more of a nude rouge onto his mouth, makes Haruka blush further. His stomach turns as he stares at you, searching for answers he doesn’t find in the calm express on your face. You cup his jaw, your other hand using a lip brush to slide it against his mouth as you finish up with last touches. Focused as you prep him to your standards, whatever the hell they are.
Haruka won’t pretend to understand. He thinks most of the effort you’ve poured in priming him is wasted. He thinks that this whole affair has been stupid and he’s sure the minute he catches a glance at himself he’ll want to explode into a thousand little pieces. You’ve been so damn meticulous, Haruka can’t even bring himself to destroy your hard work. No stone left unturned, each and every element met with incredible focus and detail.
More shamefully, the attention has felt good. It’s hard to pretend that it doesn’t when it’s the only thing that makes Haruka bend at your will. He’s never had a relationship before, but he’s not ditzy enough to think your sex life is particularly normal. Nothing about you really is. Maybe your unbridled affection for Haruka can be attributed to that. It was you who pursued Haruka, you who courted him and romanced him - cornered him even as he ran away, with frustrating levels of discretion - until the option to fall for someone else had all but disappeared.
And Haruka had tried to run away from you. Many times. Your persistence wore him down until eventually his mind would only fill with you and whatever you wanted to do to him. With him.
(Haruka loves you to put it plainly. You’re clever and sardonic and interesting and he doesn’t totally get you but he loves you so madly it makes him crazy. Loves you for the ways you’re good and careful, and loves you for the ways you love him. You’re so good to Haruka, so good he can’t stand it. So good his head feels staticky trying to make sense of it
That’s why he’ll do anything for you, no matter how horribly shameful.)
It’s impossible, difficult, irrational - the breadth and depth of Haruka’s feelings for you are completely and utterly distanced from his own understanding. Where Haruka is abrasive yet timid, you are soothing but straightforward. Sincere. You’ve been gently introducing him to the depths of your affection, putting yourself forward in expressing your desires and thoughts.
You’ve always been this sort of person, you hope he won’t hate you etc.
You always give Haruka a chance to run away from you.
No expectations. A warm gaze from across a shared bed that turns Haruka pink, incoming dawn on his cheeks down to his shoulders and collarbones. He always has options, but he likes the option making you happiest. The words thank you sound like a hymn on your lips.
He tells itself its for you, and it is mostly. Mostly. After all this time though, he’s conditioned. His body is molded for your touch. The unwitting pleasure of submitting himself to you had shocked him the first time he really experienced it. How soothing you were, how easily you dragged him into abyss of pure pleasure. Pleasure and sex he couldn’t imagine existing.
Your touch had conditioned his body to burn bright wherever it lingered.
The shame is always there, pooling in his gut and lying in wait to swallow him. It overwhelms him whenever he’s alone.
But you always pull him from it, out of it - cradle him in the palms of your skilled hands as you whisper sweet platitudes against his skin. Praise him, fuck him into something boneless and desperate. Being exposed to a type of want, the euphoria in humiliation, the reclamation of his shame. It turns Haruka’s doubts into noise slowly but surely. He falls so deep into that depth, becomes completely unrecognizable only because he’s so sure you’ll catch him.
He hates it so much.
(Read: He hates liking it. Hates liking the forbidden sexual things you’ve introduced him too that he can’t forget. Hates liking the fact you’ve imprinted so mercilessly on his body and mind. Haruka could never be with anyone else. Nothing would work.
No one could make him feel like this. You’re the first and only in the world.)
A few weeks ago, you had mentioned wanting to dress him up like this. Stared, long and hard before petting his hair and assessing he’d make a pretty girl. There’d been traces of it before then but...
To have it brought up so deliberately made him hiss at you feral until you winded him back down. Asked if he would be fine with it, assured it’d be okay if not.
He said no then, and you didn’t ask again.
(He brought it up later and felt all melty seeing you beam.)
He thought it’d be simple. He’s seen stuff like this before when he went to look up other things you wanted to try. He thought it’d just be panties or clothes, something basic and lacy. Still perverted but simple.
But everything has been elaborately crafted to make him pretty. The soft drawls and whispered demands, the compliments, painting his nails and washing his hair and shaving him.
These are ritual acts of beauty, made to accentuate feminine appeal he doesn’t see in himself but you so clearly do.
After you’re finish up your last touches, you tell him to keep his eyes closed. You stand behind Haruka with a hand under his jaw once he turns in his seat, still blind to his new looks. Your voice is an appreciative murmur, so genuine and so raw it makes all the hair on his neck stand on end.
“Open your eyes. You’re so pretty, Haru-chan,” Your thumb slides against his cheek lightly. “Look how pretty you are.”
He doesn’t recognize himself. Adorned, dolled up. The sinew of his muscles and hard lines of his figures contrast against the shapely pulls of his dress. He’s smooth and smells nice, perfumed and stunning. The makeup on his face doesn’t overwhelm him. It’s him but he’s pretty. So pretty it freaks him the fuck out.
Pretty like a girl. The hell.
“What’s all this even for? Doesn’t make sense. I’m a guy and I’m not—,” He murmurs, trying not to shudder as he feels self conscious. You lean down, your chest pressed to his back as your arms circle around his neck. “You’re so weird.”
You ignore his empty threats skillfully. “It’s for me to fuck you in,”
He wants to be pissed at you but you look so pleased. Obvious satisfaction making your shoulders relax, eyes raking over him in the mirror again and again. He looks in the mirror and sees a version of himself so…cute it’s unfathomable it’s even him.
He makes a noise of discontent, lip jutted in a pout. That’s met with an airy laugh. “Seems pointless.”
You smile at him in the mirror and his skin shades a deeper pink, tucking his chin.
“It’s fine if you think that,” You murmur. “Is it okay if I make you feel good now?”
“Don’t say it in such an embarrassing way.” He grits. You laugh again as you bend down over him where he sits, kissing him once before the two of you stumble into shared bed.
Haruka feels conscious of himself when he finally lays back into the sheets. His dress rides up near over his lmees and there’s nothing underneath to shield him from your hungry view. His tights are too sheer of any use. You amble on top of Haruka, sitting on him as he lays back.
You admire him for a long while like that. Palm settled on his waist, you trace his features with appreciation. “You’re a beautiful girl, aren’t you Haruka?”
“I’m…” He deflects instinctively. A coy smile tugs at the corners of your lips as your fingers find the hem of Haruka’s dress. It’s a loose thing, a printed pattern decorated with a frilly hem meant for a more shapely frame. You toy with the material, rubbing it between your fingers. “Fuck off,”
He can’t bring himself to say he’s not a girl. For some stupid reason. The words die on his lips when he stares up at you and sees you looking at him so reverently. So expectant without words. He squirms and looks away.
“What word do you say when you want to stop, Haruka?”
“Tomato. Or I can pinch you,” He repeats from memory. You smile lovingly.
“Right. Is there anything you want to say to me?” Do you want me to stop?
He looks away, frown deepening. Relieved when you take his silence as compliance as you often do so kindly.
“Don’t worry about anything else,” You slide the spaghetti straps of his dress off his shoulder, pulling it down past his chest and revealing the soft patterned black lace underneath. His nipples peek through the material, the rosiness more noticeable through the paneling. It looks so lewd from the angle he sees it. “Just focus on being a good girl for me,”
Haruka lets out a strangle protest before uttered soundless from your steely gaze, nodding frustratedly as your hands slide up to his chest. You brush Haruka’s nipples lightly with the dull edge of your nail, his spine arching responsively to the pleasure. It’s a brief touch, a promise of what’s to come. You lean forward pressing your lips to his as you rub the hardened buds until they’re tender. His lipstick smears a little onto you, a dusty rose. Haruka moans into your mouth, entirely aware of the thing barrier between your touch and his chest. Your fingers are deft in rubbing his nipples as your tongue occupies Haruka’s. You lick against his lips and tongue, sucking on it lewdly. .
Shameless in your pursuit of him, his ass throbs from prior prep and his cock stirs to all the sudden stimulation.
The way arousal floods his brain scares him. He can’t fight it. You’re so good with your hands. Good at everything, like knowing where and how and when exactly to touch him. His cock tents, strains against the suffocating nylon wrapped around his legs and waist. He shivers as he feels the leaky tip press against the silk and push desperately through the nylon - stretching it with it’s length. His whole body is throbbing urgently.
You kiss down Haruka’s bare chest until your mouth finds one of his nipples. You suck them through the cups first before tugging them away slightly and giving Haruka what he wants which is the full heat of your mouth. You’ve made him so weird. Wired his body into feeling this unimaginable pleasure in places he hardly used to touch.
His hips buck into anticipation, mouth open and panting as your incisors sink into the flesh of his pec.
He cries out, shuddering as he grabs the nape of neck to anchor himself at the wet feeling. His blood is rushing south making him light-headed. He feels needy, sensitive. So much anticipation had built up while you spent time on him and all of it floods to his mind all at once. The attention you pay him and only him.
The weight of your gaze clings to him.
“Your clits getting all hard and sticky from having your nipples teased,” You point out. Haruka groans reflexively at your tone of voice. “You’re a perverted girl, huh?”
Haruka should protest your words. He wants too. The cognitive dissonance should cause him discomfort but he finds only euphoria in it’s wake. He can’t understand why. It’s all so weird, but you sound so sure of yourself. Falling deeper into those unfamiliar depths makes his anxiety curl up in his chest yet when he looks at you it all fades.
He feels greedy. Feels so selfish when his mind chants for you to keep looking at him just like that. He falls deep into that familiar liminal space, warm and comfortable.
Your eyes are softened and assured. Haruka makes a pathetic whine. It doesn’t feel like his voice. He protests the words right away. “I’m not,”
“Not what, Haruka?”
He blinks at you wetly, brows scrunched. He huffs. “I’m not a pervert, dammit.”
It’s the right thing to say. He thought it’d be. You light up at the admission, sucking a mark into his neck as you grab his waist a little more and grope him all over. You can’t keep your hands off of him, your fingers searching for all of his skin as you kiss him again more feverishly. He wraps his arms around your neck, his sweater sleeves slipping awkwardly when he does, making you kiss him harder.
“My Haruka. My Haru-chan,” You murmur against his lips in between kisses. Haruka opens his eyes to you looking utterly adoring. Lovesickness bleeds into your eyes, a drug to his system as you direct it his way. “So pretty and perfect.”
“Shut up,” He goads, trying to get you to kiss him a little more. “You’re so annoying.”
You kiss again, deeper and stronger before pulling back. “I’m gonna eat you out, Haru-chan.”
The words make him gasp, shiver - goosebumps covering every visible inch of your skin. “Gonna make use of your pretty pussy and split it open on my cock, make you cum from the inside like a good girl.”
It melts him down to his core, spoken with such clarity - smooth leaving your lips and so genuine. Haruka has been fucked enough to know how it feels and to want it. He thinks of all times prior, and feels the plug inside of him more consciously at the mention. He squeezes his legs together from the arousal, like a girl he thinks and the whines somewhere deep in his chest. Preens for you.
His consciousness feels like it’s fading with each step, each breath he heaves from his lungs labored.
He forms his lips around words that never escape him. Before long you’re scooting yourself further back, down between his legs until you’re faced with his clothed erection.
Arousal nips at him at the sight of your face near his cock underneath so many layers. You purposefully hold the skirt of his dress and rub all over - emphasizing the shape through it. Haruka flushes at the way his cock sticks up against them. Distorts that stupid floral pattern, stretches it. His ears grow hot at the lascivious image it paints. Your palm glides over his bulge once, twice, three times before sliding it up again.
A wet patch stains his nude nylons visibly after all of the teasing, pre-cum dribbling between two thin layers that makes Haruka want to die. Your voice is gravelly, lacks it’s usual amusement. “You’re so wet, Haruka.”
He shivers and huffs.
His cock twitches and his ass is throbbing. Unspoken desire nips at him as your thumb presses against his slit through layers of fancy material. Praise falls from your lips crassly. He becomes more aware each second. His bra and panties, his dress and skirt, the feeling of make-up on his face and the sensation of clips keeping his bangs away from his eye. He looks like a girl and his dick is leaking, twitching, pitifully as you touch and caress him.
His head rings heavy with the words wet.
He wants you to touch him more. Nearly begs with his eyes for you get the memo.
And you do. Of course you do, all wispy and pleased by his obvious desperation for your touch. “Haruka’s got such a needy little pussy, huh?”
He hisses, swears, takes a sharp inhale of air as your fingers find the seam of his stockings and pull until they rip unceremoniously. You pull them until his cock and the insides of his thighs are open to air, and snagged nylon shrinks against his waist. His panties, black boyshort lace panties, make his milky skin look whiter and the tip of his cock redder.
It’s so unbearably dirty to him. It’s so humiliating. Vanilla scented skin and the heady scent of his own cum, his painted, blunt nails digging into the palms of his hands - bitten chest and misplaced bra, all of it is so humiliating. Makes his dick even harder under everything as your fingers wrap delicately along his shaft with the fabric. “You have to cum from the inside first, Haruka,”
You remind him and he aches, grits his teeth about it but you don’t budge.
You don’t take Haruka’s panties off either. The panel of fabric barely covering his cock instead gets pushed aside. Haruka bends his legs up instinctively. Your thumb taps on the jewel end of a plug, one he’d mostly forgotten about until he’s forced to be reminded it of it. He swears loudly.
You make an abrupt move suddenly, reaching over to bedside table and rifling along for things you’d both need. Lube, a harness, and something to fill Haruka with. You settle back between his legs when you’ve got them all before you carefully tug his plug away from him.
The emptiness makes him whine - hole pink and fluttery and open. Your thumbs pull him open until he gapes a little more, hands massaging his thigh. “Such a perfect pussy.”
Haruka makes an aborted noise - a pitchy whine cut off as you dip down further and further until your nose tucks against his perineum and your tongue slides over wet hole.
He cries out at the sudden intrusion, muscles fluttering as you force your tongue as deep as it can go. It’s embarrassing, so shameful he could die and it feels incredible.
“It’s fucking dirty,” He shouts, cries, prying himself away from you before it can feel even better. “Stop, it’s—“
“Ish not dirty,” You mumble, words mumbled against his puckering hole. “I helpedth you clean, remember?,”
You pull away and your face is wet with something, lube likely, but the visual mixed with everything else makes Haruka want to crawl into a hole. Your hands on his thighs are soft and your eyes gaze, turned on him is sparkling. “You’re a cute girl, Haruka. Saying things like it’s dirty. But this much is normal, okay? It’s only polite if I eat your pussy.”
His stomach flips, heart racing at the ease of your words. A cute girl. Being praised in such a way… so genuinely. Enough to make him think it. Haruka likes being your boyfriend, your good boy but there’s something so much naughtier about all of this that makes him want to cry. His body is so chery red, down to his neck and shoulders.
You’re going to fuck his pussy while he’s wearing these lacy, frilly, girly clothes and he wants it so bad he could die from the shame.
“Do you want me to eat you out? Do you want me to make your pussy feel good?”
The words come out like a sob, ripped out of his labored breaths. “Fuck, yes —“
So you dive back again, pressing your tongue to Haruka’s hole with reckless abandon. It feels strange but it feels good when you tease and slurp. It’s sensitive and ticklish with each stroke, something about it feels dirty. All the hairs on the back of his neck stand - electricity shooting through his nerves and making him pulse hot all over. You’re doing it so passionately, eating him out like he really has a—
He moans a little, shuddering, cock dribbling pr-espend. Tip ruddy and desperate, he want more. He grinds against your face searching for it, hips chasing for friction.
He knows what he really wants even if it’s too shy to voice it. His body feels so empty, so uselessly empty. He casts his gaze on your harness, your cock—laying beside him and clenches without thinking. He wants it so bad he’s drooling, aching, hips pushing against air as he moans while you eat him out. Please, please,please.
You make an appreciative noise into him as you pull away, his hole soaked from your saliva as you look up at him from between his legs. Noticing the state he’s in, faced reddened and chest heaving. He feels so ruined and so, so stupidly horny. He wants to cum any way he can, he thinks.
He looks at your face, absolutely lovestruck, then shivers.
That’s not true. He wants to cum from your cock, from being fucked. He wants to cum like a girl.
“I want you to see yourself baby,” You say, all warm. Haruka pants. “Come here,”
Haruka is dazed as you help him up to his feet and guide him back to your vanity. He can barely stand he’s so hard. His knees buckle further when he sees himself in the mirror.
God. He looks ruined. His makeup smudged slightly at mouth despite himself, his bitten chest and skin and his clothes. His ripped tights. All of it is too overwhelming to process. He decides against thinking.
You wrap your arm around his waist from behind. “My pretty girl.”
Haruka covers his face instinctively, squirming. “Shut up.”
“Mm,” You put a hand on the front of his thigh. “Put your knee on here and your hands on the vanity table, Haru-chan.”
Haruka obliges only because he can barely keep himself upright other wise, propping one knee onto the vanitys bench. He’s close to himself in the mirror this way - the lights making him look at himself with more scrutiny than before. He has no idea what it is about this you like. Gold-silver eyes, short hair - everything about him, he doesn’t see what you admire.
But you’ve put so much focus into accentuating each of his features. It’s skilled in the way Tsubaki is. Everything done with meaning.
He looks at himself closely. The sweater around his arms, the shiny polish on his fingers, the jewelry. The ornery of it all messy and ruined. Mascara rings around his eyes and his lipstick is swiped messily. All of that effort to make him so beautiful only to fuck it all up. It’s fitting. To be made and completely ruined by you in the same breath.
When you return to him, you’ve got your strap harnessed and lube in your hands. Pour it onto his pussy and rub it in with rough touches, doing the same to your silicone cock before tossing the bottle back towards the bed. You finger Haruka open with a hand on his hips, squeezing appreciatively at his ass through tights before tearing them even more.
He groans, gripping onto the sturdy vanity for his life as you work him back open soft enough to be fucked.
“Haru-chan,” You murmur, leaning forward to press a kiss the small of his beck where his dress rides up. “I’m going to fuck your pretty pussy and make you watch,”
Your crass words sent heat flaring through up his spine. His nerves fray at the end. He pushes his hips back on instinct as you slip a third finger in, curling against his prostate. Nearly slipping, Haruka lets the sensation bleed through him, tip weeping as his pussy aches for the perfect stretch.
“Deep breath, Haruka.”
He takes in a sharp inhale as the head of your cock swells inside of him. Pushes past the puffy, pink rim of his hole and stretches around the sticky, veined shaft. His mind goes numb, body limp. Your hand pushes down on the curve of his back until he’s arching properly, feeling it deeper. His body and mind disconnect, acting on instinct as his teeth grind making up for the emptiness. The tables edge digs into his palms hard and Haruka shakes. His mouth drop opens, drooling from the corners of his lip.
“Deeper,” He groans, can’t think, can’t think of anything but the delicious and obvious intrusion of your cock inside of him. “Harder, fuck.”
“I wanted to be gentle,” You tsk then thrust. Slam yourself into the welcoming tightness of Haruka’s pussy without second thought, knocking all the air from his lungs. “It’s good to be gentle with girls. Haruka likes it rough though, right? You like your cunt mistreated even though you’ve got such a cute face.”
Your hips grind against the back of Haruka’s ass as you bottom out and his cock twitches. His vision goes white, body taut before trembling violently. You pause. “Did you cum, Haruka? Did you cum from having your pussy filled?”
He’s shaking. He can’t stand up properly. He’s so full. His stomach is so full, he’s so happy to be so full. It feels so good everything in his vision is white, smatterings of starlight behind his lids when they flutter closed. His pussy feels so good. He feels good for you. He’s so contented nothing else makes sense.
“Haruka,” Your voice is wrecked. Like you were the one being devastated, not him. “Oh, my perfect girl. Cumming from my cock, so good. You’re a good girl, you’re such a good fucking girl. Such a tight pussy.”
You fuck Haru with reverence. Pure delirium. His eyes widen frantically when you pull out and blow wider when you slam back in - forcing him to hold onto the vanity for dear life. You angle yourself and fuck Haruka hard and hot without so much as another word of warning. Praising him endlessly as you look at him in the mirror.
“Fuck, look.” Your hands go around to his chin, cupping his jaw upwards with free hand until he sees himself in the mirror in sheer bliss. He sees you in the reflection, too, besotted. Flushed all over, eyes glazed over in complete hunger. Haruka looks embarrassing, looks euphoric and messy and so filthy he can’t believe its him he’s looking at. “Look how fucking pretty you are.”
You pull Haruka up back his arms until his back is against your chest when you fuck him, sinking your cock so deep he feels it in his throat. He cums again, dry, from the inside just like you want. The wet slam of your hips is making it hard to think.
“So beautiful. Gorgeous, aren’t you? So stunning even without all this. My beautiful Haruka’s and his pretty, perfect cunt. You’re made for me to fuck you like this. Made for me to fuck you like a girl,” You babble, voice hoarse as you fuck into him hard and precises over and over and over. “Made for my dick. Should fuck you pregnant, keep you all filled until you carry my kid , turn you into my housewife.”
It’s nonsense. Useless, horny filth. And it makes his head spin, makes his body ache so hot when you say it. Hearing you praise his cunt so affectionately, being made to take your cock. All of it makes his blood rush and turns him stupid. Impossible but his body aches at the possibility as it gets filled. Haruka can’t keep his head on straight, can’t find his tact or pull away from you fucking him so ruthlessly.
He moans your name with his voice shattered, hands at his sides as you pound away. Dick slapping against the soft plane of his stomach each time, dribbling cum onto satiny floral and dying it white.
His body goes taut. He can feel it. He’s going to cum again, going to cum harder.
His voice is shot as he begs.
“Touch me,” He whines. “Touch me,”
“Touch where, baby? Say it.”
He nearly buckles. “Touch my c-clit. Make me cum, fuck.”
“Good girl,” You praise, so sweetly. “Such a good girl for me,”
Your wet hands wrap around Haruka’s shaft and everything he was keeping pent up inside him explodes all at once. You barely stroke twice before his cock starts to twitch so hard it hurts, an orgasm hurdling towards him full speed before he nearly gets knocked down. His spine arches against you as he finally, finally gets the relief he wants and he cums.
Haruka cums hard. Thick, heavy, wet ropes of white semen splash onto your vanity and mirror, into your fingers as you fuck him through his orgasm, jerking him off hard until he’s howling from overstimulation. He’s overwhelmed when you bottom out, sticky hand holding his hips as you grind.
“I’m close,” You pant. “Hold still.”
Haruka feels as you grind yourself against the leather harness of the strap with your forehead pressing his back and feels aroused all over again. His brain is so clouded with lust he can’t stop the words from escaping his lips as he looks at your face in the mirror trying to cum.
“Cum in me,” He begs helpless. “Want you to cum in me,”
And you push yourself into him further, deeper, hips rutting until you drop down in a shudder and scream. “Fuck. Shit! Cumming in you, fuck,”
You cum and still drunk from the endorphins Haruka thinks its a waste you didn’t cum inside - too deep in his head space to think about the whine from his lips.
You breathe slow and kiss his shoulders and all over his neck. “Love you, Haruka.”
He shudders. “…Love you too,”
#sakura x reader#sakura haruka x reader#windbreaker x reader#sakura haruka smut#writing tag#wind breaker smut#no i dont want to talk about this actually
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Kinktober (16) Knifeplay
Natasha X Reader 18+
Summary: Playing cat and mouse with the infamous Black Widow was never a good idea. Especially when it meant you would be left wet and desperate.
Warnings/Tags: Enemies/Lovers, Knife Play, Dom Natasha, Teasing, Dirty Talk, Edging
Kinktober Masterlist
Your eyes scanned your surroundings, searching for a certain redhead assassin you were trying to escape from. Maybe, just maybe it wasn’t a good idea to piss off the infamous Black Widow during her mission, well the mission you just ruined. Straining your ears, you tried to listen for any sort of sound like a gentle footstep or a shallow breath, but you couldn’t hear anything.
“Gotcha,” she purrs into your ear, your body jumping at the presence but stilling immediately at the feeling of a blade pressed against your throat. A low chuckle tickled your ear, the sound sending a wave of arousal to in between your legs at the husky and seductive tone. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I wasn’t going anywhere…” The metal is pressed harder against the column of your throat at the lie, her front flush against your back, the feeling of her breasts pressing into you not helping with your untimely state of arousal.
“Oh really?” she teases, “So you weren’t running away then?” her mouth moves so her hot breath fans over your neck, lips ghosting the skin.
“No,” you sigh out, a shaky breath leaving you as she moves the blade to gently scrape your skin, “I wasn’t running away from anything.”
“Then what were you doing?” her mouth presses open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck, her teeth occasionally nibbling on the skin as your chest rises and falls with each ragged breath.
“Perhaps I was running towards something instead,” you try to sound cocky and sarcastic, but she can hear the affected tone of your voice.
“But I thought you weren’t going anywhere?” she smirks against your skin, your mouth opening and closing, lost for words as you realise you’ve just screwed yourself over. “So, not only have you ruined my mission but you’ve also lied to me,” her tone drops an octave, and her face pulls back from your neck, her arm spinning you two around, so your backs pressed against a nearby wall, her body in front of you, hand still holding the knife to your throat. “It’s almost like you want to be punished, Kotenok.”
“I’m sorry-”
“Apologies aren’t going to get you anywhere tonight Dorogaya,” she moves closer to you, mouth ghosting yours, “So don’t even bother. All I want to hear is the sound of you moaning or begging me to let you come, you understand that Kotenok?” You nod your head as best you can, not wanting to already annoy her and speak. “Good girl,” she rasps out, pressing her lips to yours, tongue swiping over your bottom lip then sliding into your mouth, dominating it as her tongue explores your mouth. You groan lewdly into the sloppy kiss, your hands clenching by your sides as you know not to touch her until she gives you permission. “Now, let’s get you out of this,” her fingers deftly move so the knife slides under the collar of your shirt before tearing straight through it.
Natasha drags the knife down to the hem of your shirt, her ripping the fabric off at the end to expose your bra covered chest and abdomen completely. The knife returns to your neck, tilting your head up by pressing into the underside of your jaw, a red mark forming at the pressure of the metal. You're looking up at her now, her green eyes darkened with lust as she takes in your body, lips tugging into a smirk at how your chest tries to steady your breathing but to no avail.
“Are you going to be good for me Kotenok?” she whispers, leaning down to ghost her lips over yours once again, the knife trailing down your neck and sitting on your collar bones, the tip of the blade digging into your skin slightly, the pain and thrill sending a wave of pleasure through you, your panties well and truly soaked now. You nod your head at her question, eyes lost in the mere slithers of green in hers. She smiles at you before claiming your lips briefly, her mouth then moves to your neck, tongue soothing over the small scrape from the blade.
You whimper when you feel her move the knife once again, the tip now pressing against your bra as she circles your nipple with the sharp object. She teases your sensitive chest through your bra, the knife scratching against the fabric, her free hand moving behind your back to unclasp it. You help her take off the item quickly before stilling once again at the sensation of the cold metal on your chest. She traces along your breasts, then dragging the blade down the valley in between them before tapping each of your perk nipples with the tip.
“I bet your dripping for me right now,” she mutters against your neck, “Do you want me to fuck you Kotenok?”
“Please, I need you Natasha,” you moan out when the blade continues down your body, down over your abdomen then slipping into the waistband of your pants. You tilt your head down to look at her hands, watching how her fingers twirl the knife in a way to slice open your pants, her fingers then tugging the item down your legs.
“So wet,” she groans to herself, the knife playing with the waistband of your panties now. You feel her move the knife across the line of fabric, teasingly playing with the item of clothing before the sound of tearing fills your ears.
“Fuck,” you mutter, throwing your head back and letting it hit the wall, the blade now moving down to your core. “Nat,” your voice is shaky as you look at her, the thrill getting a little too much now. She notices the hesitant look in your eyes, tapping your clit with the blade twice before stabbing it into the wall near you, your breath hitching at the action.
“Tell me you want me,” she husks out, mouth back to yours as she looks into your dilated pupils.
“I need you,” you moan out, the feeling of her fingers sliding through your folds and gathering your wetness making you lean forward to rest your forehead against hers. “I want you to fuck me so bad, please make me come Nat,” your voice is laced with desperation before you press your lips to hers to muffle the sinful noises that tumble out of your lips when she thrusts two fingers into you.
Natasha pumps her fingers into you mercilessly, curling them against your g-spot with thrust to have you moaning into her mouth. Your back arches away from the wall, your body pressed into her as her free hand grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head.
“God,” you groan at her show of strength, hips bucking against her hand, “Please.” She chuckles at your desperation, her fingers sliding in and out of you relentlessly. A guttural noise escapes you when she moves her thumb to circle your clit, her swallowing the moan by sliding her tongue into your mouth once again. “I’m gonna come, fuck-” your moan is cut off with a whine when she pulls her fingers out of you, stopping you from reaching your orgasm. “No, please Nat-”
“Did you really think I’d let you come, Kotenok?” her tone is condescending and feigning disappointment, your cheeks flushing at the way she talks and looks at you. “If you’re good, I promise to make it up to you Dorogaya,” she whispers, pressing her lips to yours softly before pulling away completely. “Now I have to go and fix the mess you made,” she releases your hands and cups your face gently. “See you soon Dorogaya,” is the last thing she says before placing a farewell kiss to your forehead and leaving you all alone, wet and frustrated.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha fanfic#natasha#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff#natasha x reader#black widow x reader#black widow#natasha romanoff oneshot#dom natasha romanoff#knifeplay#knife kink#knife k1nk#kinktober 2023#kinktober#dom/sub#sub reader#gxg smut#marvel smut#eventual smut#rough smut
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