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thecoochiefairy · 9 months ago

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𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ 𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒 .ᐟ toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 11.5K word count. toji zenin, married toji, wedding, honeymoon, deflowering, main character is a virgin/celibate, third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, sweet sex, rough + maybe a lil angry sex, lot of sweet talking, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, lil bit of sweet toji, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 ; 𝑟𝑖ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ idk why i’ve been craving the thought of marriage lately, or maybe just a wedding in general. i just love people in love. enjoy :) 💐

EVERYTHING WAS MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN SHE EVER IMAGINED. Blooming red roses cascaded all around, gold trim wrapping around the flowers. Platters of gold chandeliers filled the brim of the backdrop, soft emerald leaves whisking beneath the baby breath’s. The delicate ivory plants represented sincerity, purity, love.

She stood across from the man she was deadly in love with. His large palm squeezed firmly around her small one, eyes falling to the tattooed rosary that crawled around his fingers, dark crucifix slanting over the veins flexing with each movement he made.

It was every woman’s vision, being able to perfectly create their dream wedding. Her heart was completely filled with love. Her entire family stood in the crowd of people, dark wardrobe to match the wants of her catholic-wedding. Just like a man completely head over heels, she had it her way, no matter what cost.

Toji stared over the woman he was about to marry. Her soft almond shaped eyes that slanted when she smiled, brown irises he could drown in anytime he looked into them. Her dark hair was in a low bun, pulled back to showcase a strident face. Edges curled and styled along her forehead to perfection as it was halfway covered by her large veil. The alabaster lace cascaded all the way out into the bottom step of the stage, showcasing the virgin-mary within the custom design.

Her tawny-brown skin complimented the gold encrusted nose ring, plump bratz-doll lips shining. Her honey freckles spruced all along her nose, traveling out to her cheeks and face, even with makeup. Low eyes were covered by fluffy lash extensions. He loved her with or without her makeup, never seeing another woman more beautiful than her. She was erotically pure to him, completely condescending thoughts, he knew. But that’s exactly how he envisioned her. The corset of her dress clung to her frame, a low dip within the front of the dress that swirls between the heart of her chest, sinking down at the right side of her hip. The construction at the top modestly covered her breast, hugging all around her waist, striking out to the sinful poke of her hips and ass that drips white pearls and gold Swarovski crystals.

She fell out of her trance again, locking her eyes back with the scarily dark steel grey of his pupils. Yet nothing scared her about him—at least, now. When she had first met this man, he was the complete opposite of who stood in front of her. A womanizer, a gambler, all of the worse things a person could think of—an asshole. But Selaphiel was a force to be reckoned with. Her feisty nature and unwavering determination—especially her ‘not for the fuck-shit’ attitude—had inspired Toji to change for the better. He was now a loyal and dedicated fiancée, a far cry from his womanizing and gambling days.

Toji grinned, his grip on her hand tightening. He had never been so happy in his life, not until he met Selaphiel. Her eyes shimmered like the stars, and she had a beauty that could only take one’s breath away. The way her fingers interlocked with his own, the way her lips curled into a smile when she saw him… he knew he was completely enraptured with her. She played no games with him, letting him know from the jump that she had a faithful promise to god, keeping her body for the man she planned to marry. She just didn’t expect that man to be him.

Selaphiel, a name of one of the seven archangels, had grown up in a religious home. It didn’t make her entirely a Bible thumper, having her explorative escapades in college— her parents pulling their hair out at the thought. But as she was now twenty-eight, working towards her doctorate in orthodontics, she wanted nothing more but someone to call her own. Toji was her home if she didn’t have anyone else.

She’d met him while doing her studies in medical school, learning that he was also going for his doctorates to be a Pathologist—studying fluids, tissues, or organs taken from the body after death. He was completely successful within his career, but his personal life was different. She had essentially tied all of his loose ends—she couldn’t disagree that he hadn’t done the same.

But as the pastor strung his voice out to the crowd, Selaphiel’s hand slightly went limp within Toji’s palm, realizing there was something she was afraid of when it came to him. It sounded stupid. Hell, maybe even childish. With her celibacy, it was hard at times to keep from breaking her promise, Toji not only a man, but an experienced one within the bedroom. She could see in that shit-eating grin that he knew could have her at the palm of his hand. She melted by even just a soft kiss on the neck, fingers slamming upon her ass when she walked past him, to the erotic words that fell from his lips.

Yet, Toji respected and valued Selaphiel’s decision to remain celibate until marriage, recognizing it as a personal choice. He had no desire to pressure or rush her into anything. Their relationship focused on building a strong emotional connection, based on trust and respect. But Toji being the man he was, his deep appetite for her had grown stridently in his stomach, animalistic and ready to catch his prey.

“You may kiss your bride,” the pastor then says.

Sela squeals softly as Toji pulls her forward, nearly raising her off of the ground as he pulls her into a deep kiss, tonguing her down irregardless of who watched. Her face goes red as everyone around cheers.

His groomsmen let out a deep howl, her bridesmaids clapping and gleefully smiling, seeing as Selaphiel laughs happily, trying to hold back the sob of joy she wants to let out. She almost breaks as she raises her thumb to Toji’s face, briefly wiping the tear that nearly falls. She knows he’d rather die than show his emotion, her heart swelling as she felt his emotions radiating off of him.

The reception had finally arrived, everyone seated in their assigned chairs, being assisted by the waiters and waitresses that serve the five course meal they have to offer. The first and second course varied from baby kale salad with cherry tomatoes drizzled with honey and avocado dressing, or garden salad with raspberry vinaigrette. The entrées contained Filet Mignon or stuffed chicken breast with pesto cream, desert being vanilla and dark chocolate cake with almond buttercream.

Everyone enjoyed their meals, watching in the middle of the empty floor as the couple stood there for their first dance. Selaphiel’s arms wrapped around his neck, Toji’s palms laid along her hips as she leaned her face against his chest to hear his heartbeat, the both of them sinking into each other as they swayed softly as japanese denim plays. She was glad that everyone was enjoying themselves, but she felt herself slowly just wanting to be alone with him.

She mutters to him, “My social battery is running out.”

Toji’s deep chuckle rumbled against her cheek upon hearing Sela’s comment. He knew how much she valued her alone time. He lowered his head slightly so that he could speak softly in her ear “I understand, baby," he replied affectionately, “How about we step out for some fresh air? You deserve some time to recharge. Get away from our hectic ass families.”

The thought of now being alone with him scared her. She knew at times that he almost lost himself, wanting to have his way with her devilishly. She felt with them officially being married, that urge was now pushed to a thousand.

She shakes her head briefly as she says, “It’s okay. This feels nice. This dress is also tight as hell,” she sighs out.

Toji noticed the slight change in Selaphiel’s demeanor and the hint of fear in her eyes. He knew everything about her. He held her closer, his grip firm yet gentle as they continued to sway to the music.

"You look fuckin’ stunning," Toji rasped, his lips brushing against her ear. "This dress was made to turn heads, damn near makes me wanna break a motherfuckers neck for you. I'll find a way to get you out of this dress as soon as possible if you’re uncomfortable in it.”

She ignores the way her heart drops to her ass at the mention of him, ‘getting her out of the dress.’ She nods her head, raising her eyes up to meet him as she sweetly asks “You love me?” knowing it was a dumb question.

Toji tilted his head, his gaze meeting Selaphiel. A small chuckle escaped his lips before he gently cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing the soft skin.

"Love is too small of a word for what I feel for you," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "You are the air that fills my lungs, the very essence of my existence. There are not enough words in the world to describe my love for you."

“Corny ass.”

“You liked that shit, didn’t you? That was good,” he smirks, bringing his palms down to her ass, groaning lightly as he squeezes the flesh. Selaphiel giggles as he raises her up to where her heels sit atop of his shoes, playfully spinning her around.

They both separated from one another as Toji sat at the table with his groomsmen, it being a long time since they were all together in one room. Some of them already had families, built businesses or worked their way through school. It felt nice to be around his friends considering his actual family wasn’t at his wedding.

“Tell us how long you’ve been holding out for Selaphiel,” one of them asks, holding his beer as he takes a swig of it, the other groomsmen chuckling, patting the shoulder of their nosey friend.

“C’mon man, we’re your bros. You can tell us if you’ve been getting some pussy on the side,” another one says on the other side of the table.

“Nah. Sela got his ass wrapped around her pinky finger, holding on tight!”

“Shitt, damn near the whole hand!”

The entire table uproars in laughter, Toji chuckled softly, a small annoyance creeping at his friends’ teasing comments. He glanced over at Sela as she danced with the flower girl and the rest of her bridesmaids , his eyes lingering on her for a moment.

"For a year and a half" he replied with a shrug. "It took a lot of restraint. But she was worth the damn wait.“

He took a sip from his drink, a small grin playing at the corner of his lips. His friends continued to rib him, but beneath the teasing, there was genuine respect and admiration for his devotion to her decision.

“No pussy pocket? Nothing?”

“Shittt, I’m not that crazy. Lotions and oils have been a good friend to me,” Toji confirms, making them all laugh again.

“I heard her telling one of the bridesmaids that she didn’t know where you were taking her for your honeymoon. You’ gonna keep that secret from your friends, dickhead?” One of his groomsmen asked.

Toji chuckled again, “Keeping that for myself," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "I want it to be a complete surprise —a special gift just for her. She deserves it."

His friends continued to teasingly nudge him, playful smirks on their faces as they took another sip of their drinks. They knew Toji was completely smitten with Selaphiel and would do anything to make their honeymoon unforgettable.

“Just don’t kill her, alright? You ain’t Edward, and she ain’t Bella,” another one says, the entire table falling out at that poke.

“Call me Toji Cullen then, the hell!” He smacks his teeth, laughing along with them.

Selaphiel comes around the table, waving softly as she then wraps her arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck as she smiles, “Hi, handsome. I miss you. ‘M ready to go,” she muffled along his throat.

She feels a chill go throughout her body as she sees him manspread against the chair, his tie loosened as a few buttons are open down his shirt, briefly showcasing the other tattoos that trace his body. The silver chain around his neck sits beautifully along the skin, his Bulova watch cold along her body as he grabs her throat from above him, pulling her down to hover over his face.

"There you are, my lovely bride," he replied warmly, tilting his head to kiss her chin, “I missed you too. Are you ready to head out?"

“Yes,” her feminine voice says softly, “I wanna be with you.”

Toji's bone straight smirk widened, his eyes holding a tender expression. He gently slipped an arm around her waist, a protective yet affectionate gesture.

"Good," he replied lightly, his voice carrying a hint of desire. "I’m tired of sharing you.”

Selaphiel was finally out of that extremely uncomfortable dress, now wearing a more sultry look. It was purely white, fully laced, long sleeved and clinging to her body. A deep v was within the middle that ever so slightly showcased her nipples. Her veil was much shorter now, small pink bows all around the soft white material. With a farewell to his groomsmen and Selaphiel doing the tradition of throwing her bouquet to her bridesmaids, everyone followed outside, saying their goodbyes and continuously cheering. Toji guided Selaphiel away, a palpable excitement between them as they stepped into their black Aston Martin, speeding off into the night.

When they made it to their destination, they were now parked at a cliff, the car’s window showcasing the lights of the city at night. Toji told her they would sit here for a bit while he got a few last things together for their honeymoon. She wanted to ask a thousand questions, anxious as she had no idea where they were going. But instead, the chaos of their wedding day had brought a wave of exhaustion over her, now comfortable in his shoulder as she sat on top of his lap in the backseat, softly snoring against his shoulder as he scrolled through emails from his job.

She snuggled deeper within his body, Toji immediately adjusting to the movement, his warmth encompassing the natural coldness of her skin. It was a blessing and a curse. In the winter he was her personal heater, but any other time, she would flip him over immediately in the middle of the night, sticking her face directly in the fan across from the bed as she groaned hotly.

“You remember the first time we came up here?” She asks, her voice quiet as she seems to be half asleep.

Toji chuckles, “I always do. You punched me in the balls.”

“You tried to get a feel—for the free, crazy as hell,” she mumbled, “I don’t even want to know how much you spent on this Aston Martin. Just because you have money doesn’t mean you have to spend it all.”

“It wasn’t bad. It was about five—“

“Hundred? That’s not bad—“

“Thousand?”

Her eyes flew open, upper body sitting up as she said, “Toji Zenin. You did not spend five hundred thousand American dollars on renting an Aston Martin!—“

“Woman. I spent five thousand. You know what I’d do with five hundred thousand dollars? Buy like three Aston Martin’s!”

“Don’t be funny. You know I don’t do math,” she glared, “Even that’s still too much!”

He shrugs, switching the topic as he then says, “Speaking of my name…I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She sees his face become serious, sitting upwards to fully face him as she says, “Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask a favor. Do you think I could…take your last name instead of you having mine?”

Selaphiel stares at him, his olive toned skin a cream color within the moonlight. Although she hadn’t spoken on it, the only people that appeared as “family,” at their wedding was his groomsmen. She knew that he didn’t associate with his family. He briefly told her that they were extremely abusive, telling nothing else. They had gotten into a bad argument about his stubbornness before, Selaphiel trying to offer him the word of the Bible about forgiveness. He was always extremely patient and sweet with her, but when it came to his family, that was an argument she was never going to win.

She presses her hand gently along his chin, rubbing her thumb over the scar among his lips. He grimaces slightly, squeezing the skin of her thigh as he slightly moves his face away.

“Of course we can do that.”

“Thank you,” he says, hoping she doesn’t make him push the conversation.

She leans forward, softly capturing his lips within hers, pulling back as she continues to graze her fingers along his face. He takes her wrist, softly kissing her hand, squeezing it within his palm.

“So, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going?” She tilts her head, “I’m gonna start nervously farting if you don’t. I’m extremely anxious.”

Toji laughs, “I was trying to hold out, but…” he lets out a deep breath, “I know I told you I would never go back home. But I remember for one of your assignments you had to do a city you were interested in, and you picked Shibuya, because you wanted to see all the markets, try the food, shit like that.”

Selaphiel’s eyes go slightly wide as she says, “Our honeymoon’s in Tokyo?”

Toji wants to roll his eyes as he says, “Yes, but—“

He groans as she wraps her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him forward as her back is now against the car seat, kissing all over his face and jaw. It had been a dream of hers to visit Japan, even before she’d met him. She told him her dream of going into Tokyo, but he immediately knocked down the idea, telling her it wasn’t a place he planned on going back to. Unfortunately, he loved her too much to not give her something she always wanted.

“No family shit, Sela—“

“I promise,” she nods her head, “I just wanna be there with you. But seriously, how much did you spend?”

“You want me to lie?”

“You’re absolutely terrible.”

“This we all knew.”

Making it to the airport wasn’t the issue for Selaphiel, it was up until they were now on the plane, trapped within the sky and nowhere else to go. Toji knew she was terrified of planes, doing everything to make her as comfortable as possible. He’d even put them in first class, a bed within their section and office table for him to work while she slept. But instead, she balled up within his lap, holding onto him for dear life. He sighed, leaning his head on top of hers as he continued doing his work.

"Baby,” Toji murmured soothingly, “We’re landing in about thirty minutes. We’ll be okay.”

He was the complete opposite of her, enjoying flying in the air. He couldn't help but glance out the window, admiring the view from the plane's height. The vast expanse of the sky with its ever-changing patterns of clouds and the breathtaking landscape below filled his eyes with wonder. When he saw the overview of a place he use to call home, he felt a shift in his chest, not sure if it was nostalgia or the complete opposite.

She was thankful for them to finally land, the chauffeur placing their suitcases within the trunk as they were now making their way through the city. Selaphiel’s eyes didn’t know where to look, almost like a child seeing their favorite show come along the TV, fascinated and unable to pull away. They made it to their hotel, Selaphiel being slightly dragged by Toji’s hand as they made it up to the top floor of the building, a suite larger than she’d ever imagined now in front of her eyes. It was completely spacious, the windows showcasing the high buildings and colorful persuasion of the city, her eyes falling to a large tower not too far from where they stayed. She softly thanked the hotel staff that placed their bags within the room, her feet following her to the window, a warmth in her heart as she still couldn’t believe she was on her dream trip.

She feels arms come around her neck, leaning against her as he speaks within her ear, “You like it?”

“I love it,” she replies, “And I love you.”

“Yeah yeah, you just love me cause I’m your sugar daddy.”

She shrieks as he turns her around, throwing her over his shoulder. The hotel staff stands within the room as he says to him, “I’m apologizing now for future noise complaints you’re gonna receive.”

“Toji!” She giggles embarrassingly, unable to see as he passes the man a tip, closing the door behind himself as he leaves.

The rest of their day had been as interesting as the morning. Traveling all around the city, Selpahiel explored and took photos of anything she saw. It was also fascinating to watch how quickly Toji fell into his traditions. His deep voice switched in and out of his native tongue, speaking in words she didn’t understand yet she was still intrigued. It made her happy to see that he wasn’t repulsed with being here, finding his own way to fall in love with a place he associated with hatred. He was also falling in love with her all over again, her sunny disposition able to bring anyone’s energy up. But with that sunny disposition came a naivety that made him want to bang his head along a wall. Selaphiel stood in a soft green spaghetti strapped dress, a high slit on one leg as she wore sneakers with the look, perfectly sculpted body feverishly moving with each step she made. Even with the dress being flowy all of her curves defined themselves. Her dark curls bounced around her face and makeup, her hand reflexively pulling a stray hair behind her ear as she bent over the railing to stare down at the cherry blossom tree across from her.

He watched as her body aligned smoothly, back curving inwards, hips sinfully poking outwards. The slit in her dress swishes over the back of her thighs, a glimpse of her ass jiggling as she called behind herself, “Baby, look! You see?”

“I see,” he lowly replies, eyes only upon her figure, wondering how she'd look as he took her from behind, ass clapping harshly along his hips.

As they were seated in a restaurant, his mind only became worse. Selaphiel pouted as she adjusted the straps of her dress, “You think I should take them out?”

She refers to the heart shaped nipple piercings she has, the jewelry poking through the thin material of the dress, desperately begging to spring free.

“They’ve been kinda sensitive lately,” she says, Toji wanting to pull his hair out at this point.

“Could be the metal, baby. Your skin is more sensitive to the cheaper silver,” he replies. On the other hand, he was currently imagining her whines as he sucked along her sensitive nipples.

“Probably,” she shrugs, leaning forward as she opens her mouth, “Lemme’ have some of your food. What’d you call it?”

Of course.

He sighs, “Takoyaki.”

This wasn’t necessarily his final strike, but it was just enough. They were in a private indoor pool of the hotel, Toji watching as she absentmindedly paraded around in her baby-phat bikini. The innocent pink along her body is nowhere near as guilty as his thoughts. She was like his own personal bratz doll, her body coming out of the water as she goes to search for her phone on the table, her hair damp as it reaches the end of her back, body dripping to add along his carnal temptations. He wanted to play with her.

They were now back inside of their room, Toji laid across the bed as Selaphiel sprawled along his lap. His fingers were captured in a blunt as he held it between his lips, sucking his teeth as he kept trying to spark his lighter.

“Do I even wanna know how you snuck weed into Tokyo?”

“The safe answer is no,” he mumbles, still focused on sparking his lighter.

“Okay,” she rolls her eyes.

She might’ve come off naive at times, but she wasn’t stupid. She felt in her mind that she was stalling other things newly-wed’s did on their honeymoon. She also knew that smoking was a rarity for Toji, knowing that he only did it to take the edge off. She loved how respectful he was of her wishes, sometimes even going as far as to not touch her without asking. But this was different, their love was sanctioned within her devotion to her religious beliefs, and last time she’d read the Bible, it was now perfectly fine for them to enjoy their intimacy. So what was the issue?

Maybe she was intimidated by him. Or it was the thought of her inexperience compared to all the women he’d slept with, not knowing if she’d be enough for him. Maybe she was just afraid he’d tear her apart. It was that scary glint in his eyes, a lion constantly on the prowl when he stared. At times she couldn’t believe how incredibly attractive he was, even just doing regular things. Like now.

He brings his attention up to her, firmly pulling her downward as he tells her, “Open your mouth.”

She immediately complies. Lightly separating her baby pink lips, he blows the smoke into her mouth, pulling her forward by the back of her neck as he brings his tongue down her throat, drowning her in a ruthless kiss. She feels her heart pumping in her ears as she grips the bottom of his shirt, twisting nervously as he overpowers her, her body hovering beneath his as he dominates the kiss. Her breath hitches along his mouth as she attempts to pull herself back, Toji jerking her closer as he growls, “Don’t run from me.”

Toji holds her by the side of her neck as he briefly pulls their lips away, her pleading whimper inflaming something within his body. His eyes darkened with desire, cupping her face in his hands, his gaze locking into hers with an intensity that made his intentions clear. He was fierce, possessive. His mouth left no doubt as to who she belonged to.

“Baby—I’m uh—I’m hungry,” she then stutters, trying to distract him.

“Me too,” he rasps.

Oh.

He can feel her body now slightly trembling. He slows down his movements, staring at her aura that was shaken by a kiss alone. Her fingers softly press along her lips as her face is a deep shade of red.

“Fuck. My bad, pretty. I just—“ he cuts himself short, gripping her skin tightly to withhold his advances, “You said you were hungry?”

She can barely speak. Her eyes go slightly wide as she feels his bulge below her lap, prominent and hard. Huge, she thinks.

“Use your words, baby,” he encourages.

“Yes,” she then corrects, “I’m craving pasta.”

He tilts his head, lightly grinning at her as he says, “Basic ass pasta in Tokyo?”

She nods her head, trying to be normal with him, her eyes never looking directly into his as she replies, “Please?”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“You’re lucky to have me,” she retorts.

She comes off of his lap, watching as he re-adjusts himself between his legs before making his way out of the bedroom. She leans back against the pillows for a while. After about twenty minutes of being in her head, it’s like she had finally come up for air, chaotically running her fingers under the blanket as she searches for her phone. Once she finds it, she immediately presses the call button, her ear to the screen as she waits.

Her best friend answers, “Why the fuck are you calling me, Selaphiel? It’s three in the morning in New York. You better be dying.”

“You’re mad yet you still picked up the phone?”

“What do you want?” She speaks in a monotone voice.

“Remember how I said I would call you if I started freaking out?”

“Unfortunately I do.”

“This is me now freaking out.”

“What the hell are you so scared of, Selaphiel? Dick?”

“His, in specific? Yes,” she admits.

“He loved your big headed ass enough to marry you, let’s not forget. He also loved you enough to hold off pussy for an entire year. And a half. Let the man break your vagina so hard that it falls off and creates a new one.”

“You’re not helping!”

Her best friend sighs, “Look. Just channel that inner sex-lioness, okay? The minute you guys start getting hot and heavy, it’ll come out.”

Selaphiel takes a deep breath as she thinks upon those words, realizing she might be being dramatic as she replies, “Okay. Lioness. Grrr,” she quietly growls within the phone.

“Girl,” her friend laughs, “I’m hanging up. You’re not being dramatic though, the man is built like a goddamn gorilla. Scary like one, too. Deuces! Writing a eulogy for your cookie as we speak.”

Her friend hangs up before she can say anything else, Selaphiel’s eyes rising as she sees Toji come back in the room. A curse leaves his lips as he reaches behind himself, pulling his shirt over his head which gives her a full view of his upper body. All of his tattoos were extremely meaningful to him. Dark ink complimented the silver jewlery along his wrists and neck, clinking with each movement he made.

Toji notices her gaze lingering on his exposed physique, a smirk now playing on his lips. He flexed his muscles slightly, a showmanship of his strength and masculinity as he said, “You wanna keep staring or come over here?”

“I just—um, did you hurt yourself?” She tries to find her words, bringing her eyes back down to the bed.

Toji's smirk widened as he noticed the subtle embarrassment in Selaphiel’s voice and the shift in her gaze. He continued to strip off his clothes, responding with a nonchalant shrug, “Got a stain from cooking. Imma’ hop in the shower before I finish,” he explains.

“Oh. Okay,” she nods.

“Wanna come shower with me? I’ll wash your hair,” he offers, “I know you don’t want chlorine sitting in it from the pool earlier.”

This was her chance. Toji was never shy to be fully naked in front of her, but at most she had only stripped down to her underwear to sleep. She knew that being in the shower with him might create an opportunity to pounce, but that wasn’t a bad thing. The longer she stared, the more she craved him. At the same time she wanted to say no based on her nervousness. But this was her husband now. There was no reason to fear it.

Lioness, she thinks of her conversation with her best friend. More like a kitten, she tells herself.

She then says, “Yeah. Sure,” she nods, convincing herself.

Toji's heart fluttered surprisingly at her agreement, his eyes lighting up with desire and affection. He closed the distance between them, gently tilting her chin up with his finger so that their gazes were level.

She nods her head, his grip becoming more firm as she repeats “Yes,” more confident this time as she sees his face.

He led the way to the luxurious ensuite bathroom, his excitement and affection for her palpable in the air between them. Toji closes the door, dimming the brightness to something softer and more ambient.

Her heart pounds within her chest. She kept her eyes down as she began to unravel her bikini top and bottom, the thin material dropping to the floor to reveal her bare body. Dark curls cascade around her, freckles appearing heavily along her face under the faint lights. Toji watched every second of this. He was now able to see every perfect flaw. Tiger stripes along her hips, dimples dented in her thighs, breast full as the jewelry within her areolas shine. Quickly placing her arms over chest, she clasps her hands over her arms, feeling her face completely hot.

He comes beside her, moving her hair behind her neck as he places a kiss along the skin. Selaphiel shivers more than she expected herself to as he says, “I’d kill for you, you know that? You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”

She keeps her attention to stepping in the shower, the warm water pulling her back to reality as she exhales. Her eyes briefly wash over Toji who removes his bottoms, eyes falling to the third leg that sits in between his original pair. She brings her eyes back up to the shower head. Toji gently stepped into the shower behind Selaphiel, the warm water cascading over their bodies, steam embracing them like a comforting veil. His eyes fixed on her figure, his heart swelling with affection and admiration for his wife. He reached for the body wash, generously applying a small amount onto his hands before softly lathering it along her back and shoulders, savoring the feel of her skin under his calloused fingertips. It was like the first time touching her.

His hands along her bare body made her shudder, skin heating up in a way it hadn’t before. This was different. She was…aroused.

Toji noticed the subtle shudder that ran through her body as his hands traced along her bare skin, sending a wave of warmth and desire through his own veins. A low growl escaped Toji's lips as he pressed his body closer to hers, the heat of the water and the scent of her body wash blending into an intoxicating cocktail. Her hair was darker with water seeping into it, his hand latching around the flattened curls, pulling her along his chest as his lips hovered over her neck.

"You’re like a fuckin’ drug. I can’t resist you,” he whispered huskily in her ear, his breath hot against her flesh.

He twists her around, pressing his hand along the side of her throat to keep her eyes along his. Her nervousness came back out to play, eyes fluttered shut, teeth digging into her lip as she whimpered, “Toji…”

His grip on Selaphiel’s throat tightened gently as she whimpered his name, the sound echoing in his ears like a sultry symphony. His lips brushed against her skin, trailing along the sensitive flesh of her neck with a tantalizing mixture of tenderness and passion.

“Say that shit again,” he whispered into her ear, his voice low and seductive, “I want to hear you say my name, pretty. I want to hear you call out to me.”

His lips along her throat made her entire body inflamed, shakily gripping his arm, “Toji…I…” he had barely done anything, yet her entire body was trembling. The sound of his name on her lips drove his desire to a fever pitch.

“That’s it,” he grunted. His hand moved down to her hips, pulling her closer to him as the heat threatened to consume them both. He captured her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss, his touch gentle yet unmistakably possessive.

“Baby…” she embarrassingly whined, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling her face becoming completely red.

Toji's heart raced as Selaphiel wrapped her arms around his neck, her voice breaking slightly in her pleading whine. His eyes darkened with desire, and he gently cupped her face in his hands, his gaze having an intensity that made his intentions clear.

"You’re okay,” he whispered softly, his voice filled with devotion and passion. Then, he leaned down, capturing her lips again in another sin ridden kiss.

She whimpered along his mouth, hand coming around the back of his hair as she captured his tongue in between her lips. Her thighs squeezed together as feels herself becoming horny, a newfound feeling that crippled her logic.

Toji's grip tightened in Selaphiel’s hair as she captured his tongue in hers, grunting at her desire to deepen the kiss. He could practically feel the heat between them rising with each passing second. His hands roamed over her bare skin, caressing and exploring every inch of her body, as if trying to etch her form into his memory. And then, with a low growl, he hoisted her up against the shower wall, holding her close to him as if she were the most precious treasure in the universe.

“I…Toji…wait. I don’t wanna…not in here, baby,” she stutters out, feeling her heart speed up as he hoists her against the shower.

He lowly chuckles along her skin. Selaphiel shrieks as he puts all of her weight onto him, carrying her into the bedroom. She couldn’t help the nervous giggle that left her lips, back along the bed as he began kissing her throat. The thought of their bodies wet from the shower hadn’t even crossed their minds. They enjoyed the feverish need for one another, Selaphiels neck stretched back as she raised her hand to his arm, digging her nail into his skin as his lips continued their assault along her throat. It wasn’t until his lips traveled down that she almost ripped his limb completely off.

He flattens his tongue along the jewelry of her nipple, hearing a soft gasp as she jumps. She realizes how good he is with his mouth, her areola being extremely sensitive yet a warm sense of pleasure overcomes her body. She closes her eyes the minute she sees him release her breast with a lewd popping noise, hungrily taking the other nipple into his mouth, growling as he squeezes his hands around her hips that kneel into his touch. His mouth is along her skin with a fierce possessiveness, claiming every inch to show just how badly he wants her.

“Never needed you the way I need you now, baby,” he says against her abdomen.

Selaphiel can only sit halfway up and stare down at his dark eyes, face completely red as she nods her head to mask the embarrassment. Toji watches as her breath hitches, meeting her gaze as he feels the arch within her body, his desire for her growing each passing second. His lips continue their journey down her hips, trailing famished kisses along the skin as he worshiped her body with a passion.

She had no chance to run, hide or even protest as he brought her legs over his shoulders, pulling her down to the edge of the bed as she was now staring at the top of his dark hair, Toji’s tongue making immediate contact with her clit. It was warm within his mouth, his jaw also making contact with the wetness of her arousal. He groaned in a way she hadn’t heard before. She was sweet, but he didn’t expect anything else. Selaphiel gasped loudly, attempting to push him away, the raw need coming from him overpowering everything else. His eyes locked into hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

“Toji—oh my god,” she softly cried, her body within a state of shock, unable to handle the thousands of nerve wracking pleasures she feels. He enjoys her. His entire mouth dances along her core as he swirls his lips in a circular motion, dirtily making out with the puff of her sensitive clit.

“Fuckin’ hell, Sela. You taste like goddamn heaven,” he growls against her, pushing his mouth deeper as he dives in and out of her lower lips, spreading her with his tongue as he drops spit against her, a loud slurping sound creating as he nuzzles his head farther into her. His nose is damn near captivated. She attempts to twist her hips out of his hold, Toji smacking his lips as he utters, “Come here,” locking his large palms around her ankles, spreading them from earth to hell as he locks her knees against the sheets.

It seems as if the more she tries to move out of his hold, the more aggressive he becomes. Selaphiel struggles out a cry as she watches his head bob up and down, mouth sliding down to her begging opening, his tongue fitting perfectly inside of her as it shoves in.

He tells her, “Watch me tongue fuck my pussy. You’ll love it.”

She couldn’t believe his words. She tilts her head to stare away, Toji briefly removing his hand from her ankle as he turns her chin back to him.

“Your pussy is so pretty, baby. Look how wet you are. It all feels good. Imma’ make you feel like this all the fuckin’ time,” he promises to her.

“Toji—“

He cuts her off, going back down to her spread legs, locking his arm back around her ankle. He sticks his tongue out, slowly entering it within her squelching hole. Selaphiels body shakes at this, Toji moaning as he slowly removes his mouth from her, doing it in a repetition as he leans down, thrusting it back in. Her eyes watch in horror as a white substance appears on the end of his tongue, her hips trembling as she cries, “Baby, I…no!” She flies her hands over her face.

Toji chuckles darkly, “You can’t be creaming already. You’re too fuckin’ good to me,” he grunts.

The lock on her ankles allows him to move her in a way he wants, grinding her clit along his tongue, coming back down to her trembling opening. It squeezes around his tongue as he kisses within it, stretching her open to prepare her for something bigger. He spread her legs wider, muttering against her body, “I’m gonna stretch your pussy so good, baby. Gotta’ make sure it doesn’t hurt too bad.”

“Toji,” she whimpers, pleading he stops this unruly talk.

He continued his ministries, tongue exploring her in ways she’d never experienced before. He was relentless. He squeezed her ankles, gripping them as he pulled her hips down to slosh against his face, Selaphiels eyes blown with lust as he dragged his lower lip along her clit, trapping it under his mouth as he followed the upper lip behind it.

Toji briefly looks up to see Selaphiel watching him, her eyes rolling blissfully as he continues to pleasure her. The sight only fueled his desire. His grip tightened, his tongue now working with a determined fervor, desperate to draw out anything from her lips.

“Baby…t—this feels so…”

She brings her hand into his hair, tugging lightly at the dark mane. His body was inflamed at the desperate sound of her voice. He leaned into her touch as her nails dug into his scalp, relishing the mix of pleasure and pain that it brought.

He gave her pussy a deep kiss, her vision now becoming teary, the feeling all becoming too much for her. Toji nuzzles his lips against her, kissing her opening again, and again, and again. She went to push his head away when he gripped both of her hands in his, bringing them under the hold he had against her ankles, her upper body now forced to look directly at him from how she was positioned. The sight of her dark curls covering her face as her lip was tucked under her teeth was enough to make him more careless with his movements, sliding his tongue into her hole and rocking her hips forward.

“B—baby, I feel like I h—have to pee…” she whined.

Toji can’t hold back the chuckle that comes from his mouth, sending vibrations up her spine at the rumbling along her clit.

“You’re cumming, baby,” he explains, “Relax. Imma’ eat your pussy until you squirt, that’ll feel better than cumming. Okay?”

To hear him speaking this way, she could barely handle it. She gushes along his face, filling his mouth with the sweet taste he begged more for. Her upper body trembled as she desperately tried not to scream out. His name was the only thing she could remember to say as he moaned against her clit, spanking the side of her leg. Countlessly, endlessly.

Toji maintained his grip along her ankles, French kissing her opening as he drank from her, never wanting her climax to end. He dragged her until her hips were hanging off of the bed, watching as she gasped, quivered and moaned in pleasure.

“What’s happening to me…” she speaks softly, locking her eyes closed.

“You’re experiencing pleasure, baby. Please don’t be embarrassed,” he gruffly tells her, leaning back down as he flattens his tongue against her clit.

He chaotically shakes his head from side to side, a moan startling out of her lips from the movement against her. This had been her first time experiencing an orgasm. She whimpers deeply as she watches her legs tremble. Toji was drunk, unable to stop himself from becoming addicted. His head was swimming, the sound of her moans and fingers entangled in his hair making him more dizzy with need. He wanted her, desperately.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby. You’ okay? I want to give you more,” he coaxes, bringing himself upward to see her expression. Selaphiel turns her face from his, red and flushed. Nonetheless she nods, accepting the kiss he gives her, tasting a foreign sweetness along her lips.

She wraps her arms around his neck as he releases her hands, placing her legs above his shoulders as he now hovers over her. Selaphiels eyes go slightly wide as she looks down, seeing his tip, fat and as pink as his lips. Her eyes run over the scar along his mouth. She brings her hand to his chin, going to touch along the mark, surprised as he embraces his face into her hand. His heart swelled at her touch, coming forward as he captured her lips in his, a kiss so filled with love.

His tip smushes along her clit, bobbing up and down that it causes her hips to jump. Her heart beats in her chest, the pounding of it beaming in her ears. She feels safe with him. The love and passion within his eyes move to a desire and lustful one, his vision watching his tip throb along her clit, spreading her legs wider with his palms. Toji places his forehead against Selaphiels, seeing as she has her teeth dug into her bottom lip. He goes slow—at least he attempts to— pressing her legs back farther as he pushes himself in. His tip becomes swallowed by her, latching onto him as if she’d been waiting a lifetime. Their lips are just barely touching each other’s. Selaphiels mouth slowly gaped open as it felt like a fire had been matched along her lower abdomen. She gasps, jerking under his hold at the intrusion of pain, whimpering as Toji wraps his palms around her wrists, trapping her along the bed.

“Toji,” she softly cried, squeezing her palms under his hold as he sucked the skin of her throat, adjusting her hips to the uncomfortable pain she feels.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” he grunts, feeling as she tightens around him.

He brings his lips back over hers, Selaphiel moaning deeply as he spreads her legs wider than before. That moan shuddered out into a cry as a mixture of pleasure sensed over her pain. It was something she’d never felt before, a deep pleasure that felt almost blinding, like her entire body would rapture from it. Toji’s eyes darken as he listened to her moans blend with different feelings, the sensations driving him further into a frenzy of desire.

“You’re taking my shit so well, baby,” his breath is hot against her lips, “Such a fuckin’ big girl.”

His hips rock down to meet the back of her thighs. She feels her eyes slightly watering, rolling to the back of her head as she feels him drop his hips down again. Her mouth falls open as a large wave of pleasure washes over her. She whines out, “Fuck. Fuck, baby.”

“You feel so fuckin’ tight, baby. Let me have more of you,” it’s not really a question as he hovers his large upper body above her, keeping his hips low as he lightly picks up speed. More pleasure comes with each movement, her walls pulling him deeper each time his balls slam along her skin, sticky as she becomes more wet with each stroke.

He slowly removes the grip he had on her wrists, allowing her to bring her hands along his face, her finger tips tracing all along his abdomen. She brings her eyes down, watching as his hips connect with hers, causing her to whimper out.

“Look at that, pretty. ‘Pussy is so perfect…” he says, a low moan falling from his lips. The more she squeezes, the more he’s unable to hold back. He places his hand along her jaw, face right above hers as he grips firmly. Watching Selaphiels reactions only drove Toji’s desires to a new height. He could see the mixture of surprise and arousal within her face from the newfound aggression he carried. It fueled him to be rougher, even more possessive.

“Tell me how you feel,” he commands. Her mouth opens as she can hear their skin slapping together, body shifting each time he strokes. She’s unable to move her face as he keeps his eyes directly on hers.

She whimpers out, “Feels so…fucking good, baby,” to which he cockily replies, “Yeah?” Her moans become louder as he thrusts harder at that.

His expression darkened as Selaphiel talked to him, less shy than before. His grip on her jaw tightened ever so slightly. His voice was low, a velvety growl as he spoke.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he purred, his thumb gently tracing her cheek, “I wanna make you like this all the time. Submissive,” he leaned down, lips brushing against hers before he grunted, “Let me give you all of your dick, baby. Yeah?”

Her mouth never closed, releasing even louder moans as she felt his hips slamming against hers. She went to bring her hand against his hip to slow him down, only making him speed up. She could hear his arrogant chuckle in her ear as she helplessly whined.

“Stop whining. Take it,” he tells her, voice with a dark edge, leaning down as he captures her lips in a dominant kiss.

He has a grip on the side of her throat now. She hesitantly brings her hands to the back of her thighs, whimpering as she spreads her opening for him, watching as his length sinks down inside of her, flushed and veiny as it bruises along her walls.

“S—so good, baby. Yes,” she whimpers out.

The sight of her taking control of her own pleasure, holding herself at his mercy, sends a surge of possessive desire coursing through Toji’s veins. He growled, his grip on her throat growing firm as he stared down at her.

“You’re mine,” he growls, “Every fuckin’ piece of you.”

His grip clasps around her entire throat, upper body hovering over hers as he pulls out, harshly slamming his hips back inside of her. She grips the hand around her throat, cursing each time he bottoms out. Her lower abdomen trembles as he yanks her entire body down to meet his. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared scarily down at her, watching as she fell apart beneath him.

“Baby…I f—feel like I have to pee again,” she mutters, her face hot as she hears Toji darkly chuckle again.

“You’re gonna cum again, baby. Think you’ll squirt on my dick this time?” He asks her, her eyes shutting as she whimpers at his voice.

She pulled him down by the back of his neck, kissing him softly. Her lips trembled against his, moaning out in a way she hadn’t expected herself to. Her mouth then opened as she moaned louder than before, her hand coming over her lips as she tried to quiet herself. Toji moaned into the kiss as he felt her covering her mouth, ripping her hand away as his eyes were completely possessive.

“Don’t hold back your moans, pretty. I wanna see you come apart. You hear me? Speak when you’re spoken to.”

“Yes,” she softly cried, “I—I’m cumming, baby.”

“Show me.”

Another orgasm ripped through her body. She brought her hand to his back, scratching deeply into the skin as she shouted his name. Her entire body exploded in raptures, holding him close to her as she shivered under his hold. He continued to move nonetheless.

“I love you,” she cried, her mouth interrupted by a tender kiss as he grunted, “I love you more, baby. Never loved anyone more than I love you,” he grits his teeth, a moan escaping his mouth as he pulls out of her, cum dripping from his tip and dropping along the bed. Her body still continues to orgasm, feeling as she trembles involuntarily. As she tries to relax beneath him, her breathing slowly becomes steady as he brings his lips over her neck, tickling her with his mouth. She giggles softly, trying to push him off as he holds her down.

She brings her face to his as she asks, “…Did it…feel good for you? I—I know you’ve been with a lot of women—“

“Selaphiel, don’t piss me off in a moment like this,” he snaps at her, “I love you so fuckin’ much. I’m honored to be your first, baby. Wouldn’t have changed it for the world.”

She presses her lips together, keeping her eyes down from his. She feels his hand come to her chin, pulling her up as he states, “I mean it.”

She nods her head, trying to pull herself away from the awkwardness she feels. This was a beautiful moment. She gave herself to the man she trusted wholeheartedly, and she wouldn’t have traded it for the world. She brings her lips up, kissing him passionately.

She then asks quietly, “Am I…pregnant now?”

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

When she wakes up the next morning, she sees that the other side of the bed is empty. Sunlight bursts within the room, the large windows open as she stares over the city of Tokyo, bright and colorful lights blinding her eyes. She slowly sits herself up as the familiar smell of pancakes fill in her nostrils, the sweetness choking her throat. She runs her fingers through her hair as she looks around the room, her eyes meeting with the large silhouette of Toji, his body passing the door frame as he seems to be on the phone. Business, she figured. He winks as he disappears back into the kitchen.

Her mind falls back to the memory of the night before. The moment she thinks about it, she feels that her legs are sore. She brings her fingers up to her lips, remembering his rough kisses. His eyes staring down at her. The way he handled her. She didn’t know what came over here, but she wanted that again.

She quickly showers, debating whether or not to actually put clothes on. She stares at herself. They’d already had sex, this was her husband, why was she still afraid to tell him what she wanted?

It's not like he’d say no. Maybe she was embarrassed, only having sex one time and wanting to be ruined by him the next morning. Was she crazy?

She thought about doing her makeup. Realizing that he’d catch onto her plan, she disses the makeup idea. She allows her hair to fall around her body, her arched eyebrows strikingly dark against her light freckles, brown eyes soft as she stared at herself. She felt…different.

Taking a deep breath, she wraps a towel around her body as she creeps out of the room, making her way into the kitchen as she sees him still on the phone. He holds a bowl as he mixes batter within it, her ears not registering what he says as he speaks in his language.

He notices her, muttering another couple of words before he hangs up the phone, “Shit. Did I wake you up?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I just smelled you were cooking. How long have you been up?”

He grins at her, “A while. I wanted to wake you up, but you were sleeping like a rock. Must’ve fucked you good, huh?”

Her face goes red, “Don’t be an ass.”

“Just messing with you, baby,” he eyes the towel around her body, seeing her face is red in the cheeks and bare of any flaws, “How did I get so lucky?”

“You must’ve gambled hard for me,” she amusingly replies, sitting herself on the table across from the stove as she watches him.

“Must’ve put my fuckin’ life as collateral,” he agrees.

A newfound feeling of lust had crawled up her spine. It spread like wildfire, furiously making her sick in her entire body. She couldn’t stop thinking of him in that way. She stares at the way his back muscles flex as he continues stirring the bowl. He looks back to her, noticing her state.

“You’re distracting me, pretty. Can’t finish cooking when you’re staring at me like that.”

“Sorry,” she shakes her head, “I just…couldn’t help to watch you.”

She tilts her head, hair falling around her body as it follows her. The minute he turns back towards the stove, Selaphiel releases the hold of the towel she wears, letting it fall along the table. She presses her hair behind her ear as Toji’s eyes capture her bare body, a giggle coming from her lips as he raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t play with me right now, Selaphiel,” his smile drops from his face.

She pouts, “You don’t want to play with me?”

She stands from the table as she comes in front of him, a newfound sense of confidence filling her body. She wants him. Slowly, she keeps her eyes upon his as she lowers herself to the ground, a jolt of surprise and desire coming within him.

“Baby,” his voice speaks lowly, almost like a warning, “What are you doing?”

“I want you in my mouth,” she tells him. A groan drops from his lips as he clutches her hair in his fist, pulling her to where her entire face is shown from below.

“You sure?” His face shows genuine concern.

She nods her head. He then grunts, “Imma’ fuck your throat up.”

He places his thumb on her bottom lip, opening her mouth roughly as he pulls his length from the sweatpants he wears, tip encompassing between her lips as he shoves himself within her throat. In this moment she remembered all of the advice her friends had given her on pleasuring him. Her eyes shut as she tries to focus, fearful that she’d chicken out as he guides her head against his hips, pulling her back and forth by the ponytail he created.

“Your mouth feels fuckin’ amazing, baby. Just like that,” he groans out.

“Fuck my throat, please?” she tells him, not so much asking. Her eyes were big and doe like with an innocence that had him wanting to shout.

“I’ll bruise it,’ he corrects.

She hummed satisfyingly at his words, wrapping her lips tighter around the dark pink flesh, sliding her palm down as she took him deeper down her throat. Her other hand placed on his hip as she pulled him forward, her head rushing back and forth as she twisted her wrist, feeling as saliva pulled between her fingers and the space between her lips. She pulled her mouth away, now only working at him with her hand as she stuck out her tongue, letting spit drag out and fall onto the pre-cum forming against his tip.

Toji couldn’t believe his sight, his innocent woman that went red at a sexual joke was now below him, sucking his dick like she was made to do so. She hungrily took him back into her mouth as she pressed herself down, eyes fluttering up to his completely low ones as she gagged. It was almost effortless to her. He forced himself down her throat, a low moan fleeting from his lips as he collected more of her hair in his fist, fucking her mouth.

Her eyes were teary, throat nearly sore, lips bearing a dark red and all she could focus on was getting him to cum. Making him cum. Hand that was still wrapped around him, she placed it behind her back with the other, her eyes shutting tightly once again and filling her throat until she could barely breathe, nose grazing over the pubic hairs attached to his skin as Sela finally pulled herself back. Toji tightened his lower half, a slew of drool coming from her tongue and lips.

“You’re fuckin’ filthy, baby,” he grits out. Yanking her up, he turns her body around, throwing her upper half along the marble of the table.

His ragged movement causes him to knock the pancake batter along the floor, her chest pressed up against the marble that makes her piercings cold, her body warm as it becomes aroused. He holds both of her wrists with one hand, feeling himself becoming pissed off at her teasing. She giggles at his impatience, keeping her eyes along the table to hide her amusement.

She then gasps softly as he spanks her, clamping her mouth shut as he asks, “What the fuck is so funny?”

She bites her lip to stop her giggling, shaking her head as she doesn’t verbally respond. He keeps his hands wrapped around her fists as he knocks her legs wider with his own, Selaphiel then softly giggling out, “You’re so cute.”

“Cute, huh?”

He takes his other hand to spread her open from behind, Toji seeing the slick arousal shining along her brown skin from the sun beaming in the room. Her body goes into shock as she feels his tip prodding at her opening, sliding himself in slowly. Her mouth drops open as he presses her back inward to perfect her arch, Selaphiel shuddering out a whine as he says, “Look at you. Swallowing every inch of my dick.”

He takes her hair within his fist as he guides her. His other hand stays locked around her wrists, her fingers reaching upward to feel for his arm as her body is trapped under his hold. He pushes in deeper. He then reaches up the front of her, pulling his palm around her mouth as he clasps her voice shut, Selaphiel moaning loudly between his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he begins snatching her back onto his pelvis.

“Thought I was playing with you, huh?” He talks within her ear, Selaphiel unable to keep up as the heaviness of her ass is clapping along the skin of his hips, her brain now fried and completely empty.

She gasps out between his fingers, “Baby—“

“No. None of that ‘baby’ shit now,” he grunts, taking one of his legs as he lifts it along the marble of the table, giving her a particularly hard thrust that causes her to shout. This was completely different from the night before. He was almost implausible, as if these feelings were deep within him. He was holding them back just for her—but she’d clearly poked the bear.

“Oh…my…fuck…” she cries, groaning at every movement he makes. Her walls feel sensitive, the strokes he gives her are nothing nice. But it all feels so good. She could feel tears blinking within her eyes, thighs trembling dangerously. Toji can’t help but smugly grin behind her, listening to the way she cries out with pleasure, sounds spurring him on with how she reacts to him. It makes him feral.

“You’re gonna’ paint my dick with your cum. You’re so damn pretty. So damn perfect,” he keeps up with his movements, removing his hand from her wrists as he now has both hands wrapped around her mouth, gripping her down, bouncing her along the front of him to where Selaphiel could barely speak. She only nods her head in agreement, eyes still knocking backwards as if she were possessed, moaning aggressively as his abdomen tightened each time he was deep within her.

She feels like she’s going to black out. Even with that thought, her mind swarms for her to keep going. She then takes her hips as she pulls them up, helping as she follows the rhythm of him bringing her back down. She turns her head slightly, seeing the darkness shift in Toji’s eyes.

“Let me fuck you back, baby,” she pleas softly.

He doesn’t release his hands over her mouth, only loosening them to show he wasn’t pulling her down as he murmured, “Go ahead.”

She whimpered as she twisted her hips around, dropping them back against his pelvic, turning to watch his low eyes. Every moan is louder each time their hips connect. Toji groaned as she took control, his grip along her face becoming less heavy as he watched her move against him, body filling with hunger as he listened to her voice grow louder with each smack of their hips.

“Mmm, I got it, baby,” she whimpered out, Toji’s abdomen squeezing at her whiny tone.

“I know,” he rasped, “Squeezing my fuckin’ dick like this.”

She hissed, pushing them away from the table to where she had no support to lean herself on. She bent herself over to where she had her hands locked around her own ankles, Toji taking his dominance back as he tugs her back by her hip, slamming her down along the front of his thighs. Her eyes roll to the back of her head.

His grip on her was strong and possessive, teeth clenched as he slammed her down heavier into his hips, the sound of their bodies connecting filling the air.

“Oh fuuuck,” he groaned, head dropping down to stare at the way her ass clapped against his body, skin shaking within his palm.

The sound of his voice, his pounding deep inside of her was all too much to handle. Her voice was quiet as she creamed along his dick, feeling him even deeper than before from the angle she was now in. She gripped tightly around her ankles, lifting her upper body as she tried to match his rhythm. He slammed in deeper, her body trembling as she felt a rush of pleasure punch her in the gut, realizing she was having another orgasm.

Her idea of moving away from the table failed her as she was now unable to take control, reaching out to move away from him. Unfortunately Toji’s grip of her skin was lethal. He slammed her down onto his hips, her ears only able to hear their skin slapping together. She felt as if she was having an exorcism, eyes swirling to the back of her head as she released a long moan of, “Oooh shittt, baby. You’re so deep.”

He shakes his head, “Nah. Keep cumming.”

She cries out, tears dropping onto the floor as she holds onto herself, messily sobbing out, “Fuck me, baby. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

And he does. She feels him damn near in her stomach as she tries to pull away, his own moans now mingled with hers as his restraint completely faltered. He lifted her up, biting down at the nape of her neck as his other hand was still along her hip, hotly pulling her down, Selaphiels voice going completely dumb as she whined, “Don’t stop. Baby, please. Don’t.”

“Look at my little crybaby,” he coos, hand now along the skin of her throat as he tugs her down, chuckling darkly in her ear, “This is your dick, baby. Stop running from it.”

“I’m gonna cum on my dick, baby,” she cries harshly. He replies, “Yeah? Show me again.”

Her stomach dropped as her orgasm released through her, shivering chaotically as Toji pulled her neck back, watching her face blown with pure lust, falling apart in shambles all because of him. She loved him, wanting every single part he had to give. Even this one. He kissed her roughly, tonguing her down the same way he had the moment they were officially married. Even in an erotic moment, their love for one another never dissipated.

He held her as he felt her body relax within his hold, her mouth panting out against his as she held him close, eyes shut as she felt her face go red. She wished she could stop that.

“You’re a bastard,” she croaked.

Toji couldn’t help but smirk knowingly, “Damn right. But I’m your bastard.”

#toji x black character #toji zenin #toji imagine #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji fluff #toji #black characters #black authors #black fanfic writer #toji fushigro x reader

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marthawrites · 6 months ago

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A Shared Bed

Harwin Strong x Betrothed fem reader x Rhaenyra Targaryen

Word count: 4.2k+

About: Harwin gets into an arranged marriage to stop the rumors about him and Rhaenyra. He really likes his betrothed but he loves Rhaenyra. He tells his betrothed, "I can't choose between you and her." She says, "I don't want you to choose. I want in, the bed is large enough."

Includes: SMUT. Featuring sexual tension, reader's first experience with a woman, milf Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra likes to play a little rough, m/f/f threesome, vaginal fingering, (f) oral sex, handjob, face sitting, multiple orgasms, unprotected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is based on a request from @the-wonderland-madnesss ♥ Thank you for being my sous chef in cooking this up too! Rhaenyra is married to Laenor in this fic. She's already had Jacaerys. For plot sake (lol what plot? this is mostly porn) reader is from House Oakheart and is non-descript. Reader and Nyra are friends in this fic. I hope you enjoy it! ♥

Cross posted on ao3 too! First time ever posting there. Will I keep it up? No idea!

The day’s golden hour flooded your abode through open windows and silken curtains. The warm beams highlighted your late-summer skin and you relished its sensation. King’s Landing, with its climate and sea breeze, was pleasantly cooler than your home in the Reach.

Sitting in front of a well-polished looking glass, you carefully dabbed another layer of color on your lips. Pretty. Feminine. The hue unquestionably brought out the best of your complexion.

You’d already finished everything on your to-do list. Now the only thing left to do was wait for a visit from your betrothed. His visits were a favorite pastime of yours–even before the official betrothal. As it turned out… he was quite good at dice. Always in the back of your mind you wondered if he had loaded dice. A soldier of the City Watch could very well get their hands on some, right? Or learn a trick or two from gamblers… Off duty Harwin learning tricks of the trade from cut purses and pickpockets! That idea brought an amused smirk to your lips.

You highlighted your features with a little more cosmetics.

A knock on the front door sounded. Before getting up you readjusted your bosom, making sure your gold and green dress accented your breasts to perfection. “Be right there!” you called. Once satisfied, you moved to answer the door. Opening it, you smiled in preparation for Harwin. “My, you’re early tonight, aren’t y–,” but the rest of your words were cut off by who was indeed at your door.

The Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen stood an arms length away, grinning the tiniest feline smile.

A commoner's cloak of homespun concealed her true identity from passersbys–sly. But, more surprising than the Princess at your door, was the fact she came alone. Not a single guard stood behind her or appeared to follow. Her expression twinkled as she watched you take everything in. “Lady Oakheart,” she said with quiet warmth. “Mind if I come in?”

Pleasantly surprised, you swung the door wide for her to enter. What in the name of the Seven would cause this visit? “Not at all,” you answered to your friend whom you hadn’t seen in some time. “I was not expecting this, princess. If I’d known I would have prepared better!”

“Needn’t worry,” she said with a dismissive wave. Removing her hood, she used the same looking glass to check the long braid of her silver hair. Once any stray strands were tucked away to her liking, she hung her cloak on the back of a chair. “I’m very glad you’re home at this hour. I wasn’t sure if you would be.”

Confusion frowned your brows. Sitting upon one of your lounge settees, you turned your full attention to Rhaenyra. She looked lovely in a black and red dress. Its neat trim and accents highlighted the quality of its tailor. “I’m normally home by this hour.” You poured her a cup of water from the side table. “Excuse my brashness, princess, but what brings you here? Is something the matter?”

Rhaenyra drank as she sat beside you. Her knee brushed against yours and you tried to ignore the butterflies in your belly from her accidental touch. “There is something I wish to discuss with you, yes,” she said, a glint of something… mischievous? Behind those Targaryen eyes.

The last time you and Rhaenyra had a visit like this was at her wedding to Laenor Velaryon. You and your brother (despite his still slightly wounded feelings about his courting attempt being turned down) were invited, and you wouldn’t miss it. She truly was The Realm’s Delight! That was over a year ago, now. Since then, she and Laenor have welcomed their first child into the world–a healthy boy with a head full of black hair, Jacaerys Velaryon.

You searched her eyes for a moment before offering a slight tilt of your head. “And what might I help you with?”

“Ser Harwin has told me of the betrothal,” she answered.

You didn’t have a reason to blush. Yet, warmth bloomed beneath your cheeks. “Has he? I know you two have a… close relationship. The proposal was actually suggested by his father, Lynoel, in an attempt to–”

The Princess arched a perfectly manicured brow. “–stop the rumors of him and I?”

You nodded a little sheepishly. There were rumors before Jacaerys’ birth, yes, but afterward? Hearsay of his true father spread throughout the court like wildfire.

That tiny feline grin reappeared upon her mouth. In her eyes. She grabbed your hand. Her smooth touch caressed over yours. “He also told me something else. It nearly had my jaw on the floor.” She leaned into you slowly, deliberately, angling her head so she spoke low by your ear. “That you wish for all three of us to share a bed.”

If your face wasn’t hot before–and it was–it blazed now. You wondered if she could see your pulse thrumming at the side of your neck. “It seems there’s little my betrothed doesn’t speak to you about,” you said as if proclaiming a secret.

Rhaenyra made a small noise of acknowledgement. Her gaze landed on your fluffed breasts and the necklace that sat upon them. Gently, she trailed the very tips of her fingers down the golden accessory. Its pendant was a polished ruby in a classic setting. She circled it; your goosebumps not escaping her attention. Her gaze found yours again, regarding you with a heavy curiousness.

“A gift,” you whispered, raspy–under her spell. “From Harwin.”

That same noise from before vibrated between her lovely lips. “I know,” she purred. “I helped him pick it out. We have similar taste in jewelry, you and I. And men, it would seem.”

Your skin hummed. Tightened. Despite your’s and Harwin’s conversation about Rhaenyra, you never thought it would happen like this. “Princess…”

“Shh,” she cooed, leaning in to you with a slight tilt of head. “Your bed is indeed big. Large enough for the three of us, easily.”

Your lips were so close–close enough to share breath. Recognizing her silent question of consent, you gave it to her. Now it was you who leaned forward to close the remaining space between your mouths. A kiss. Light, at first. Curious. Despite your attraction to women–as well as men–you’d never explored your desires with another woman. Kissing the princess felt divine. Liquid fire spread through your body. And, when you slanted your mouth against hers, deepening the affection, she delicately cradled your jaw.

Bells chimed in your head. Forbidded. Dangerous. Exciting.

Tentatively, you moved your hands to rest upon her thighs. You gripped the fine material of her dress and squeezed; pulling her to you, and you to her.

Rhaenyra smiled. Her tongue licked slowly into your mouth.

Fire roared through your bloodstream–you yielded without a second thought.

And that is how Harwin found both of you. So enthralled by one another, neither of you heard his gentle knock nor the rustle of movement as he came inside. He uttered your name in delighted shock. Then, “princess?”

Meeting your betrothed’s attention, you blushed from the tips of your ears down to your collar. “Harwin,” you whispered. Panting softly you added, “I meant what I said before. You don’t have to choose. The bed is large enough.”

Ser Harwin Strong looked like he’d already cleaned up. He wore a simple neat garb–clean–and his dark curls were tossed as if freshly washed. Sometimes after serving his guard shift duties he stunk to the high Seven. And you, being his lovely, tidy lady, didn’t appreciate it much. He knew it, of course, and was happy to clean before sharing evenings with you. He gave you a knowing nod; dark eyes glittering with an array of emotions. “I never doubted your word, sweetheart.”

Rhaenyra gently turned your attention back to her. “Do you regularly entertain any other visitors after hours?”

No wonder Harwin was enchanted by her. Those eyes shone with a deep fire from within, the hue simply otherworldly, and for a moment you wondered if the princess practiced witchcraft with how mesmerized you were. Sorcery, wizardry, love spells… no, nothing like that. She was a Targaryen–blooded from both sides–and it was at that exact moment you felt the old saying: Targaryen’s are closer to Gods than men. You shook your head. Your body buzzed. “No. No one else will be coming over tonight.”

“Good,” she cooed. “You are mine and Harwin’s tonight, Lady Oakheart. Let us test these new boundaries and passions properly before the official wedding, hm?”

With a thundering heart you matched her smirk. “Gladly.” You swore you could hear Harwin’s blood rush through his body, too, lightning bolting through him at a dangerous speed. Like a magnet, he was drawn to you. To the princess.

Rhaenyra’s mouth was on yours again. And, then, from behind, Harwin’s hands settled on your shoulders, the tickle of his beard on your neck making you quiver. Anticipation vibrated through your bones.

Oh, you were dead. They were going to murder you. It’d be a miracle if you made it through the night!

Harwin’s brown eyes glittered like dragonglass when he looked down the front of your body–your welcoming bust, the ruby necklace, the fine cut of your bodice. Then he peered at Rhaenyra from over your shoulder with nothing but the utmost admiration and love. “You’re both wearing far too many clothes,” he said against the delicate curve of your neck.

“As are you, Ser Harwin,” the princess said without missing a beat.

Your brain was currently unable to form any coherent thoughts.

Vaguely you heard a rustle of cloth behind you, followed by the cotton ‘thmp’ of your betrothed’s shirt tossed to the floor. Skilled fingers then unlaced the back of your dress.

Harwin. Ever the gentleman.

Once finished, he stepped with deliberativeness to Rhaenyra. He towered over her as he stood behind her and carefully opened the back of her dress. The difference in their height… their size… lust clouded your brain with each passing moment.

The princess stood, then, that sly little grin dimpled one corner of her mouth. Despite this being your house she tilted her head in your bed’s direction. “Come,” she said.

You took her outstretched hand and stood. Looking between her and Harwin, he gave you a similar expression followed by a proud nod. Fuck. Your insides were about to explode from nerves.

“If at any time it becomes too much, sweetheart, all you have to do is say something and we will stop,” Harwin reassured you.

When he spoke in that tone his voice was velvet over gravel. He could get you to do almost anything with that voice. All of your clothes were too much. Too heavy. Too restrictive on your humming skin. You wanted nothing more than to feel Harwin’s warm, hard body against yours. The scratch of his chest hair against your back, your beasts… the rasp of his powerful legs against the smooth lines of your own–between them. Even more sinful than those thoughts, however, was the yearning to feel Rhaenyra’s smooth body against yours.

The delightful darkening of both their expressions told you they knew what you were thinking. How easily they read you. How dazzled they were by your transfixion.

“Understand?” Harwin pressed.

“Mm-hmm. I understand.”

Rhaenyra walked backwards with you until you were both at the foot of your bed. It was slightly awkward, in a humorous way, and it had both of you giggling as you tried to not step on her feet. She stepped out of her shoes before shrugging out of her dress. It pooled on the floor like a shadow. Her shift was a clean white cotton which left little to the imagination.

Harwin stood at your side and used two fingers to tilt your head to him. He kissed you. Deeply, thoroughly, slowly. He was such a good kisser. Your knees weakened where you stood, using him for support throughout the affection. You moaned softly into his mouth before he pulled away.

He moved to Rhaenyra, then, and kissed her. Soft. Tender. She had a similar reaction to you. His lips along her jaw, down her neck, and over the exposed top of her shoulder. Whereas he kissed you thoroughly, he kissed her reverently.

Part of you felt as if you should look away. But, you couldn’t. Seeing your betrothed with another woman like this had your thighs clenching. You knew you should be jealous. Should want to claw the eyes out of another woman who kissed your promised like that. Yet, it was Rhaenyra. You only wanted to be in between them. Reveling with them.

They were the most gorgeous pair you’d ever seen.

The princess, with the knight’s assistance, pulled her shift up and over her head. Finely made smallclothes were the only thing that shielded her womanhood from your eyes; as near perfect a human could be. She was all pale skin, soft lines, and pink pebbled flesh. In the waning golden hour her milk veins stood out beneath her alabaster skin; those breasts surely heavier now than they were before her son’s birth. With those eyes, and that body, she could have anything she fucking wanted. And, likely, she did.

“Your turn,” she purred to you. “Help her like you did me, yes? She’s looking a little… spellbound.” A quiet giggle escaped her as she turned and crawled up your bed, sitting at the head of it as she watched and waited.

Spellbound. The perfect word.

Harwin helped you indeed, kissing and caressing over your body as he did. Sharing sly smiles and twinkling looks, consent passed between you two again and again. ‘Yes, I’m okay with this,’ your eyes said. ‘Yes, I want this too,’ they also said. The callouses of his big warm hands scratched over your skin and shift alike; sensation arching your back into his body. Everywhere he touched, you burned. In the wake of his attention, the delicate space between your thighs matched your pulse.

He still wore his trousers and made no move to yet take them off; arousal hot and strained beneath. When your hand teased over his bulge he swatted it away. “Not yet,” he crooned. “Go sit between Rhaenyra’s legs.”

Now it was you who obeyed. Crawling up your mattress in much the same fashion as she, you kissed her again.

Standing at the foot of the bed Harwin admired every fucking second of what was unfolding. His princess, his swoon to be wife… the curve of your ass and dip of your spine and shape of your legs had him impossibly hard. Your position had the wet spot of your smallclothes on perfect display and he groaned.

“Be a good girl and rest against me,” Rhaenyra whispered.

You did. It was easy–wonderfully easy–to sit between her soft, spread thighs, with your back against her breasts. You bit your lip at the sensation of her covered cunt against the small of your back. How different it was than cuddling with Harwin.

“Look at you listening so well,” she cooed again. “Good girls get rewards. Isn’t that right, Ser Harwin?” The tension of their eye contact had you squirming and you barely had a chance to regain yourself from the teasing praise before you gasped. Rhaenyra’s hands bushed the underswell of your breasts. Lightning shot down your spine. She played with them, teased them, circling and sliding her fingertips over your nipples. “So pretty,” she said as she squeezed one of your sensitive tits, pinching the peaked nipple of the other.

You couldn't help it. You moaned and arched your chest deeper into her touch. She kissed over your neck, your shoulder, continuing her blissful exploration of your breasts.

Harwin lowered onto the bed and laid between your legs, grinning up at you and Rhaenyra. As she continued to tease you, he kissed the insides of your thighs. One, then the other. Lips, and tongue, and teeth, he teased you as much as she was. The tickle of his beard was beautifully maddening and it didn’t take much for your thighs to be quivering beneath his mouth. “Always so responsive,” he said.

Never had you been with two people like this before. If they kept it up any longer you’d be a whining panting mess! “No more teasing, please,” you begged.

The lovers shared a look you weren’t quite aware of. With an arched brow, Harwin asked, “let’s stop torturing the poor girl, yeah?”

Rhaenyra nodded impishly.

Before your hazy brain realized, your betrothed was pulling your smallclothes down your legs. He spread your thighs, giving himself more room between them, and a low satisfied sound rumbled in his chest. “Look how wet she is for us, princess.”

You throbbed. His words echoed in your head. You were fucking soaked.

Using one hand, Harwin spread your cunt for his greedy gaze. “My, my, sweetheart. Aren’t you a needy little thing tonight?”

“Just how I like my playthings,” Rhaenyra quipped. “Since I can’t see, will you let me feel?” She asked against the shell of your ear.

You nodded. “Yes. Please. Both of you.”

Again, the secret lovers shared a heated stare.

The princess’ hand slid down the front of your body until the tips of her fingers brushed against your slick cunny. “Oh,” she purred. “I don’t know who’s wetter, Lady Oakheart. You or I.”

Her center was still hot against your back. You desperately wanted to explore her as she explored you. But, the position didn’t quite allow for it. You whimpered behind a bit lip.

Harwin watched as Rhaenyra began to circle your swollen clit. Women knew what women liked, and she knew just how to touch you. Circles, and slides, and flicks, she lavished your little bud with the sweetest attention until the sweetest sounds began to pour from your mouth. For a moment she thought you might come from that alone. So, she slowed her ministrations and nodded to Harwin.

As the princess continued to play with you–slowly–he eased one finger into your aching cunt. Immediately your toes curled with a gasp. “Go-ods!” You squeaked, legs flexing and hips rolling with the double stimulation. Each downward movement of your hips sent his finger deeper into you. Each upward motion sent Rhaenyra’s fingers sliding over your clit. It was the loveliest feeling you’d ever experienced. You ground against both of them. Used both of their hands for your own bliss. “Please don’t stop!” You half stammered, drunk on the pleasure they gave you.

They each held one of your thighs open, not letting you close them. You were at their mercy. You loved it.

A second finger joined Harwin’s first, and now he pumped them in and out of you. With a flex of his wrist he crooked his fingers inside you, hitting that small, deliciously spongy spot that always had you gasping his name. Your incoherent babbles along with Rhaenyra’s soft praises had his cock aching. His mouth watered as he watched your body take his fingers again and again, as your pearl glistened beneath the princess’ touch. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He leaned forward to lick your pretty clit.

Seeing what Harwin was doing, Rhaenyra clicked her tongue and pushed his face away. “Greedy knight,” she scolded.

Harwin glared up at her.

She smiled sweetly.

You were too lost in your pleasure to notice what exactly happened.

“Let’s make her come and then you can put that mouth to use,” she goaded him–loving his brief moment of fury as she took away something he wanted; his own soon-to-be wife.

Working in tandem, the princess and the knight pushed you over the peak of pleasure; awed, shuddering, weightless. Your sounds a song to their ears.

They let you come down easily, kissing and caressing you throughout. If this is what it’d be like to share a bed with the princess you planned to never leave her in the dark. Ever.

After a few moments you rolled onto your back and stared up at your ceiling, smiling like a loon. “That was… wow,” you giggled.

Harwin was the first to move. Sliding off the end of the bed he stood and moved to the side of it nearest Rhaenyra. With you no longer sitting against her, he grabbed her by the legs and pulled her to the edge of it. Swift. Deliberate. Right where he wanted her. A small squeak sounded from her. “Get these out of my way,” he growled as he yanked her smallclothes down her legs with little regard to their preservation.

Rhaenyra looked down the front of her body just in time to see him kneel before her–big hands curling around her thighs, spreading them wide open. His mouth was pure magic on her eager cunt. Her head rolled to the side as she leaned back, bracing herself up with her elbows. Soon, moans and whimpers began to spill from her.

Coming out of your reprieve, you watched the secret lovers; desire stirring in your core once again. Rhaenyra, ethereal. Harwin, worshiping. They complimented each other in ways that had you weak. One of his hands rose to the little swell of fat on her belly and squeezed it adoringly. Gasping, she ground against him, seeking her high.

It was your turn to roll off the bed. Walking to the other side, you too knelt in front of Rhaenyra. Harwin smirked at you. “I wondered when you might join me,” he said.

Despite your nervousness you were feeling bold, too. “Show me how you do it.”

He groaned somewhere low in his throat. Then, his mouth was on yours. He kissed you deeply. Rhaenyra’s taste lingered on your tongue and it wasn’t unpleasant. Quite the opposite, if you were being honest with yourself.

Above, an entirely different type of pleased sound came from Rhaenyra. Seeing you two kiss between her spread legs had her going half crazy. “Have you noticed how much he likes his hair pulled yet?” She asked you innocently. Before allowing you the chance to answer, her fingers curled into his hair and she pulled him back to her center. Right where she wanted him. Harwin moaned into her cunny, licking and slurping against her obscenely. “He likes to be pulled around a little bit,” she said. Lewd. Panting.

Fuck.

Unable to resist any longer, you fumbled with the front of your betrothed’s trousers until his belt and laces were open. You tugged his pants down the firm curve of his ass, the thick trunks of his thighs, until they bunched down around his knees where he knelt. As he feasted on the princess’ cunt, you stroked his cock. He was so hot, and thick, and hard, you wondered if it physically pained him.

He moaned harshly. “I don’t wanna come yet,” he rasped, the muscles of his pelvis already twitching with restraint.

“No, no, not yet,” Rhaenyra agreed, breathless. “His seed needs a womb. Both of you up here, now. I have an even better idea.”

You both obeyed. Rhaenyra gestured for Harwin to lay flat on his back in the middle of the bed. Smirking like a cat she perched herself over his face. She wasted no time in sitting back against his mouth, grinding against him purely for her own pleasure. Nose, lips, bearded chin… she dragged her slick cunt back and forth. Again and again. Her fingers squeezed his firm pectorals as she used him for her gain. “Take his cock,” she told you wickedly.

Was this truly real? You were still half dumbstruck that this was happening in the first place! Harwin’s arms looped above her thighs, holding her where he wanted her, and the sounds that were coming from both of them were obscene. Heavy breathing, slurps, smacks; you were about to peak again from simply watching them.

You straddled over your betrothed’s waist and sunk down onto him. Fuck fuck fuck. He was so big. The stretch of your body accommodating him had you inhaling sharply. You allowed your walls to fully adjust, and while you did Rhaenyra leaned forward and crashed her mouth to yours. Tongue, lips, a tease of teeth, she kissed you like she wanted to fucking consume you. Pure lust fired through your veins and you began bouncing on Hawin’s cock.

The princess’ hands were all over your breasts again. And, now, yours on hers, too.

That’s how you all stayed for a time. Fucking, sucking, riding, reveling in each other as bliss blindly guided you to new heights of lasciviousness.

It was impossible to know who peaked first. It might have been Rhaenyra for how she shuddered upon Harwin’s face. It might have been him for how he flexed and roared beneath both of you, cock twitching mightily as he spent himself deep inside you. It might have been you for how you simpered his name again and again like a debauched prayer.

Whatever the case might have been, slowly you all came back to your senses. Sticky flesh, sweaty skin, and bedclothes that needed to be washed, the three of you cuddled amidst the lovely aftershocks of climax.

Each of you smiled broader than the other. Eyes, somehow, out twinkling each other.

“How do you think she did, sweetheart?” Harwin asked you, his gentle touch trailing over your arm.

“If tonight was a test, the test has been surpassed,” you answered with a giggle, idly playing footsie with the princess.

She beamed. “Good,” she said. She made delicate circles below your navel as she added, “the seed is strong, Lady Oakheart. Perhaps Harwin will give you one, too.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

Masterlist

See comment section for my main taglist and Aemond taglist! To be added or removed from either, please hit me up!

#house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #harwin strong #harwin x reader x rhaenyra #harwin strong smut #rhaenyra targaryen smut #harwin x rhaenyra fic #harwin x rhaenyra smut #hotd fic #hotd smut #hotd imagine #hotd x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

Text

All In 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: told myself to slow down, didn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s your first time wearing that skirt. You’ve had it in your closet for two years. At least. You’re not really a skirt person but it’s cute. The floral on black with the zipper up the front. It drapes nicely enough though you’re not used to wearing anything so short. You have a trusty pair of shorts on just in case.

You don’t go out either. Definitely not to places like this. You keep an arm across your middle, gripping your other as the hordes of people make you dizzy. The shining gold accoutrement of the decor along with the waft of low music over the noise of tables and voices add to your vertigo.

The casino is busy and bright and loud. You stay close to your sister as she leads you across the carpet; ivory with golden curliques patterned across them. You’re no gambler either but you’re not there to play cards.

“I think it’s upstairs,” Roxie says as she looks at the tickets in her hand. “Gala Room B.”

“Oh, right,” you murmur and smile at her, “what’s the band again?”

“Don’t worry about it the tickets were free,” she chirps as you look up at her. You feel even more a child beside her; your height often adds to your inferiority complex. Historically, you think, those characteristics have been often intertwined.

“No, but--”

“You need to get out of mom’s place more,” she chides, “I could’ve brought Katie instead, but I chose you, sis.”

“I know, er, thanks,” you run your hand up to your shoulder and rub it nervously.

“Show doesn’t start for another hour. Let’s get a drink,” she insists and turns, strutting towards the long bar at the other side of the grand space. You trail after her, shrinking down even further. She turns back to you as she leans on a tall stool, “what d’ya want?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really...”

“I know, it’s one drink, how about a vodka-cran?” She suggests, “you love cranberry.”

“Um, sure, if you think that’s good.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s the wild one, not you. You know you bore her and since your parents’ divorce, years ago, you haven’t really hung out together. She went with your dad and you with your mom, since then, it’s all been a bit fuzzy.

She orders as you stand back, not wanting to get in the way of the people all around you. You lean back, rocking nervously as you glance around. You feel underdressed as you see women in cocktail dresses and men in suits. Even your sister is a stark contrast to your overly casual attire; your favourite purple cardigan and the skirt you’ve never worn.

Your eyes scan the room, admiring the golden sconces of bulbs that resemble candelabras and the gilt trim all along the wall. The more you look around, the less you belong. You don’t even know why you said yes. Well, your mom pushed you into it. Just like your sister, she keeps saying you need to get out more.

You rub your lips together and feel around your small tassled purse. It’s used, like most of your things. The thrift store is as much as your mom can afford and you still haven’t found a solid job. You worked at the grocery for a summer before they laid off half of you then did a one-day stint at a polling centre for the last municipal election. Even if you wanted to go out, you don’t have the money for it.

You pull out your chapstick and smear it around your chafed lips as you sway back the other direction. You stop short as you nearly slam into another body and you stumble out of the way of the man in his black-and-white suit. Embarrassment creeps hotly up your cheeks and you cap your lip balm and stand out of his path.

He’s taller than you. Well, everyone is. But to you, he seems huge. His suit is finely tailored to his figure though his hair seems to clash with the refined style. It’s almost to his collar but neatly parted, a shank falling forward to frame his sharp cheekbone. His square jaw is trimmed thickly with a dark beard, peppered with strands of silver and patch along the dimple of his chin. You’ve never seen anything as blue as his eyes, they are almost inhumanly vivid.

“Sorry, doll,” he touches your arm as he passes and smirks, swiftly turning his sights ahead of him.

You gulp as your shoulder hits someone else. You spin to face your sister as she offers you a glass. You take the red concoction with the short black straw sticking out over the ice cubes. You thank her as the chill seeps into your hand.

“Oof, look at him,” she leans to watch after the man in his dark suit, “damn.” You frown and look in the other direction. She scoffs and nudges you, “come on. That guy is totally stunning. Even you can see that.”

“I don’t wanna gawk at him,” you mutter, “he’s a stranger.”

“Oh, whatever, not like he’d notice,” she snips.

You scrunch up your lip and tuck your chapstick away as you peer toward the man. He goes up to a table, sliding in next to a taller woman with honey-blond hair and a shimmery dress. He rests his hand along her lower back as he chatters to her and the rest of the players around the leather trim.

“Sheesh, he’s fine,” she puts a twang on the last word, “mmph. If I wasn’t with Tom...”

“Right,” you look down at the drink and sip from the straw. You make a face and cough.

“It’s not that strong,” she slaps your back, “don’t be dramatic.”

“I know,” you clear your throat, “I just wasn’t expecting the taste.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” she points above.

“Uh, okay,” you agree to her sudden diversion. You suppose you really are boring.

You follow her up the curved stairs and along the railing that overlooks the lower casino room. Arched windows let in the night and the glow of the facade. You lean on the polished wood and peer down at the first floor; it looks even more resplendent from there. You sister puts her elbow on the railing as she looks around.

“We could stick around after, lose some money,” she says.

“I don’t... mom only gave me a twenty and I owe you for the drink.”

“Pfft, whatever, I’ll spot ya. Tom gave me some extra with the tickets,” she trills, “it’ll be fun. Play some black jack. It’ll be an experience. You could say you’ve actually done something.”

You smile, closed-lipped and tight. She isn’t wrong. It’s your first concert, for some cover band, and your first time at a casino. It’s not an exaggeration to say this is the height of your life experience.

Your eyes wander down and meet another pair. You wince. It’s that same man. He walks towards you, a certain swagger in his stride. As he peers up at you, his cheeks dimple and he winks. You wrinkle your brow and look behind you. When you turn back, he’s gone. Right, you’re imagining things.

Roxie slurps as her straw turns hollow. She’s already drained her cocktail, meanwhile you’ve barely taken a sip. She stirs the ice and hums.

“Wait here, I’m gonna get a refill,” she raises her glass.

“Oh, I can come with you--”

“Nah, just stand here,” she insists. “You’ll just slow me down.”

“Sure, uh, okay.”

You curl your shoulders inward as she walks away. Great. All alone. You avoid looking anywhere but your glass. You face the railing again and balance your drink on it. It’s not bad, tarter than you’re used to and a little burny.

You play with the black bracelet around your wrist, the band they stuck around it when they scanned your ID at the door. You suppose it’s a good idea but they wouldn’t be letting kids in here, would they? Oh yeah, the hotel is attached.

As a kid, you never went on vacations like that. No hotels, no casinos, no shows. It seems like Roxie is catching up on all of that and you’re just there. The world is so much scarier when it’s all a mystery to you.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking it’s merely a passerby, “miss?”

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you barely save your cocktail from spilling over the edge. You clutch the glass with both hands and face the stranger. It’s that same man, with the suit and the long hair and the oceanic eyes. Something about him is familiar beyond your few earlier glances.

“I think you dropped this?” He holds up a chip with a golden 100 on it. You blink and shake your head.

“No,” you scrape out of your throat, “I don’t-- I didn’t--”

“I swear I saw it fall out of your bag,” he looks down at your purse.

“Really, I’m not... I don’t gamble.”

“Ah, well, if it’s just hanging around, might as well use it, huh?” He keeps his hand out, “maybe it’s your lucky day.”

“I couldn’t. If someone lost it...” your voice doesn’t want to go and he leans in to hear you, adding to the heat spreading through your chest. Is it the alcohol or him?

“You’re sweet, keep it,” he shoves the chip toward you.

“Please, I... I... can’t...” you wipe a hand on your skirt and clutch the fabric.

“Doll, I can’t hear you,” he says as he grabs your hand and dislodges it from your skirt, “here.”

He presses the chip into your palm. You stare at his tie then look down at the white chip with gold detailing. His hand brushes yours before he rescinds his touch.

“Erm...” you murmur dumbly and shake your head.

“My treat,” he growls.

“But...”

“Like the skirt, by the way,” he surprises you as he pinches a fold, “cute on you.”

Just as quickly as he appeared, he strides away, leaving you blankly staring after him. His broad shoulders move beyond a thick marble pillar as you hold up your drink and the chip. You just look between them.

“Hey,” Roxie approaches again, “oh, what’s that?”

“A chip...” you state plainly.

“Duh, I know. Where’d you get it?”

You look at the floor. Would she even believe you? “The floor.”

“Ooo,” she plucks it from your fingers, “awesome, “now we’re definitely having some fun tonight.”

“Rox,” you swallow and look up at her, “we should hand it in. It’s a lot of money. If someone lost it--”

“If they lost it, they can afford it,” she bobs her neck as she speaks, “live a little,” she sneers and taps your glass, “and finish your drink. Maybe that’ll loosen you up.”

You nod and recede into yourself, cradling the glass again with both hands. You put your lips to the straw and drink until you can’t anymore. She gulps straight from the brim of her glass and sighs, wiggling as she peers around.

“I almost don’t even want to see these old men play music,” she snickers as she takes in the expanse of tables flashing lights.

“Oh?”

“Relax, we’re going to see the show. You’re a horrible liar and mom will see right through you,” she sneers, “besides, I told her I wouldn’t get you in too much trouble.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #all in #series #au #casino au #winter soldier #captain america #avengers #mcu #marvel

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madaqueue · 1 month ago

Text

FOOL'S GOLD SINKS ALL THE SAME

aventurine never fails to cause a scene, in public or in private.

pairing: aventurine x gn!reader

themes/content: reader has a history of sexual trauma (it is not described in graphic detail but it is very clearly alluded to. it is not romanticized or sexualized). smut. mentions of aventurine's past, oral + fingering + penetration (reader receiving), lots of ocean metaphors bc i'm normal abt it. 18+ MDNI (wk: 4.7k)

a/n: letting this blond man ruin my life

“Bet on me.”

The words barely land in your ears as Aventurine snakes his way around the table. You can’t respond, can’t even look at him, without inviting catastrophe, and he knows: he makes it a challenge, of course, reflecting the glimmering lights almost more brightly than the gaudy disco ball twirling away overhead. In the corner of your vision, the black flash of armed guards weighs in your mind, and instead of straining your eyes to catch his, you let your attention fall aimlessly ahead.

Then, you do precisely as you were told: nothing (technically, the IPC’s orders were to “Observe and gather intel” which you know means “Don’t let Aventurine cause a scene.” Perhaps that’s why they’ve sent you on so many jobs together - they need him chained, and you’re an inexpensive stand-in leash. Being a collar doesn’t take much skill, after all).

The game continues, cards and chips moving hands, and Aventurine loses after a stupid play he’d never make, and pouts.

“What a shame,” he says to himself, resting his chin on a glove you know is more expensive than the ruby velvet lining the table. “Dye like this is hard to find,” he once told you. “It’s almost impossible to get anything this dark. Only fools pay for red, but that’s why gamblers love it: it’s cheap and flashy.”

When the next round begins, he taps his fingers along the table, a tell he’d never let slip, one subtle enough not to miss. With barely-controlled eyes darting from player to player, he feigns nervousness and shuffles his chips to the center.

“Guess I’m all in,” he chuckles, letting his smirk waver for half a second.

The fools around you think he’s bluffing; they think they’ve got him. People tend to let their guard down when they think they’ve won, when they can’t see that the finish line has been moved. More chips rattle onto the table - they’d be idiots to not get in on pulling one over on the well-loathed IPC.

Again, you hear ‘bet on me,’ and for some stupid reason, you follow, clearing the space in front of you with a hesitant push of your own wealth (well, the IPC’s, of course) into the ever-growing pile.

On the neighboring stool, a man leans over, letting his scruff tickle the shell of your ear. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sweetheart. Let that man lose his money, and when I win it back, I’ll spoil you.” He smells like cheap whiskey and cigarettes and you want to claw his throat out.

Across the table, one of the other gamblers lets out a shrill complaint of, “No coaching during the plays!” and the man beside you innocently raises his arms, not before winking at you, and you wonder if you were to kill him on this table how much the velvet would cost to replace.

Instead, you bat your eyelashes and lay your cards down. “Oh well, maybe I’ll win the next one,” you giggle, sending your chips toppling onto the others with one final shove.

The next moves happen rather quickly: Aventurine reveals his hand, people shout, the money is claimed from the table, and somebody grabs your arm. It’s only when cool cloth softly rubs your skin that you recognize the man dragging you towards the exit and let your muscles be pulled behind.

“Told you,” Aventurine whispers, his breath lighter than feathers.

He cashes out silently and guides you towards the elevators, this time with one palm placed on your lower back rather than wrapped around your wrist. Less possessive, you think - less likely to cause a scene.

The moment the elevator doors close, you turn to him.

“What the hell was that?”

“What?” He cocks his head to the side and lets that impish grin spread across his face, the one that’s nearly landed him with knuckles on his jaw in an attempt to wipe it off.

“You know that wasn’t what we were sent here to do.” You cross your arms, and he basks in the heat of your body, his wrists now fully snaked around your waist.

“Details, details,” he murmurs with a wave of his hand. “We got the information we needed. It’s not a crime to have a little fun afterwards.”

“It is a crime to disobey orders-”

Just as your annoyance begins to bubble over, the elevator chimes and opens directly into his suite. To break free from his grasp, your feet step forward and graciously carry you inside.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, light bouncing off the white marble that lines every surface.

Of course Aventurine gets a penthouse for these missions. The IPC certainly has to keep up appearances, and with a man like him, anything else might as well fully blow his cover.

He lets you enter on your own, at least, as he waltzes behind you, with the saccharine smell of pride blooming from his skin.

“It’s nice, isn’t it,” he hums, and you want to smack that smug smile off his face.

Before you can, he tosses a cloth sack your way, the coins inside clanking with a sound you nearly don’t recognize.

“For you,” he says easily, leaning against the ever-opulent stone counter.

Something in the sound makes your head feel heavy, under pressure like you’re drowning. It’s familiar in a way you hate, in a way that you remember from the mattresses of shitty hotel rooms and men who smell like cigarettes and the way your tears look under the fluorescent lights of an unfamiliar bathroom.

You know what money like this means for them. And worse, you know what it means for you.

It’s just work, you told yourself the first time someone propositioned you to their room. A way to clear the debt, to push you a little closer to an ever-moving goal. It’s just a body, just a hole, just a few minutes. But it’s different when it’s Aventurine’s body, standing three feet away from yours, when the velvet smells like him and is still warm from his palm.

You don’t open it, you don’t want to. You can feel the metal sitting in your stomach, all too heavy. The act isn’t new, you suppose, but you never thought Aventurine would-

It doesn’t matter.

Now you see the point of his plan - involving you in it was sick, but the IPC must keep up appearances. It’s only fitting for them, you suppose.

So, you slowly make your way across the kitchen, sliding the pouch into your coat pocket. You don’t look at him, you can’t, not anymore. Standing mere inches before him, you lower yourself to your knees - they love the ceremony of it, they always do - and rest your hands along his waist. Practiced fingers begin unworking his belt - normally, at this point, you’d turn your gaze to the man above you, but you can’t.

It’s just work. It’s just work. It’s just work.

But something about this, something about it being him, makes your stomach turn, makes you want to vomit up the metal taste that sits in the back of your throat.

Too busy in your mind, you don’t notice the way Aventurine tenses, nor the panic in his hands as he wraps them around your wrists.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The words come out fast, blended into a single breath.

“I’m – I’m doing what you paid me for.”

Finally, you look at him, and see the sheer horror raging behind his eyes. The smooth mask of a practiced liar doesn’t chip easily, but if you listen close enough, you could hear its pieces falling to the cold tiles beneath your knees.

“No. No.” Pulling you from the ground, he doesn’t let go of your shoulders as you rise. “That’s – that’s not what I’m paying you for.”

“Oh.”

Desperately he searches for something in your face, some hint of the rage that burns beneath his skin, but he finds nothing, just glossed-over eyes and a practiced smile. It’s just work, after all - he of all people should know best.

For a moment, he nearly lets his questions get the better of him - What sick fuck is paying you? Is this a part of your contract? Who do I have to kill for making you think you’re nothing more than a body to be used like this? - but easily, he slips the silk mask back on (he wouldn’t want to frighten you with anger; he wouldn’t forgive himself).

“That money is for you. Just you.” Gloved hands smooth the wrinkles along your collar. “It’s the first installment for the debt you owe - in three months, you’ll be rid of the IPC,” (and me, he nearly says), “forever.”

“Aventurine,” you rasp - you aren’t sure why the words get stuck in your throat, now, after all this time. You aren’t sure why they taste so hot - maybe it’s the burning that lingers in your knees. “You can’t.”

“I can. And I did.” The flash of his smile nearly blinds you again. “You can thank me later, but for now, let’s celebrate-”

“No.”

Your eyes sting, and that pit in your chest is back, heavier, threatening to swallow you whole. It aches and makes your head spin and you want to spit it out, let it claw its way from your insides and take your blood and bones and viscera with it.

“The debt was mine to pay off.”

“Well, no offense, but you were doing a pretty terrible job of it,” he laughs, hesitantly. In all his calculated planning, in the hours and days and weeks and months he spent dreaming of this moment, he had a vision of how you’d react, how you’d smile and sigh and wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek and how he’d get to hold you, pick you up like you weighed less than air, free from the chains that kept you down, beneath him.

“It doesn’t matter. It was mine.”

Boiling tears stream down your cheeks, leaving trails of steam in their wake, and you want to collapse into yourself, you want to let the pressure build up until you explode and take out this entire building, this entire planet for all you care.

“You can’t – you can’t just buy people, Aventurine,” you choke, the words landing in the room like smoke.

For the first time, his smile falters. “I wasn’t-”

The coin purse finds its way back into your hand, and then to the ground below his feet. He doesn’t reach out to grab you as you turn away.

You’re grateful that the bar is rather empty, aside from a lone stranger on one end with his head down and an empty bottle beside him, and a couple trying to consume one another in the corner. Most other patrons seem too engrossed in the thrill of throwing their lives away, you suppose; that’s the nature of a casino, the price of feeding its hunger. Empty chairs have become quite a comfort over the years, separating you from those who would grab too tightly, or beg for a kiss, just a kiss, or slide a pile of coins your way and wait for you by the elevators.

And yet, when he approaches from behind you, you don’t flinch (you’d know his steps anywhere, you think - they’re too evenly timed to belong to anyone else).

“Is this seat taken?” he grins, but makes no move to sit until you gesture him forward with a wave of your glass.

The two of you let the silence settle, even though Aventurine feels he may choke on it, even though he wants to speak and speak and speak until you forgive him and tell him it’s alright and tell him he’s not evil, he didn’t hurt you, he didn’t mean to. Instead, he silently orders two drinks and lets you sip yours slowly.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say. “I know you were trying to do something good.”

There are words sitting on the tip of his tongue begging to be let free, but he swallows and lets them burn his throat.

“I didn’t plan to work for the IPC this long. I didn’t plan for any of this, really.” You chuckle, a dry sound, and wash it down with the liquid in your cup. “But my debt just kept growing, and they kept saying they needed me - ‘just one more job,’ - but it’s never really just one more, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” and he lets himself laugh.

The casino’s sounds settle atop you, those of victory and highs and pride left to sit out for too long, until it starts to rot.

“The IPC bought my debt,” he says to the empty bottles behind the bar. “It was a long time ago, longer than you’ve been here, I’m sure. It was selfish of me to try and do the same to you.” (Nobody should be owned like that, he almost says. The mark on his neck aches and itches and pricks at his skin like hot iron. He ignores it.)

His empty glass sits on the table, its wet ring bleeding into the wood. A wiser man would have used a coaster, or perhaps, a poorer man, one who couldn’t afford to erase the marks he leaves behind.

“The money is still yours, of course. You don’t have to take it, but I have no use for it.” My debt is too grand to be counted and held in velvet, he thinks.

When your gaze meets his, his pupils dilate - one of the few tells he can’t control.

“Well then,” you hum, the ice clinking against the glass as it swirls in your hold, “I suppose I should use my new-found wealth.” Setting your cup upon the table, the condensation makes it slide towards his, and you grin, an unpracticed one, unpolished. Your cheeks pull back unevenly and you let the cracks in your lips show. “Can I buy you a drink?”

He laughs and you wonder if this is the same sound that plays from the slot machines lining the walls, if this is the bell that rings for victory, the one that makes people willing to throw their savings away for the chance to hear it just one more time.

“Well, I’d be a fool to say no.”

He’s lighter now that your forgiveness has settled on him, kissing his cheeks like a butterfly’s wings, in a way that tickles and doesn’t make him brush it off, a way that reminds him of spring and flowers, of his home and of you.

“Do you remember that job we worked on Belobog?”

“The one where I had to pretend to be married to you?” you laugh, nearly falling off the back of the barstool before Aventurine’s hand catches you in the dip of your back.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he whines, letting his lips turn upwards.

“I just never took you for someone so…comfortable in public.” There’s a glimmer of something sparkling behind your eyes, more than just the neon lights flashing overhead.

Leaning forward, he’s so close you can nearly smell him, wood and liquor, smoke and velvet. Rich in all the ways he ought to be, in all the ways he pretends he is.

“I was just selling our cover,” he purrs, and a part of you wonders if this is dangerous, to be letting him in like this, to tilt your head until the heat radiating from his skin gets trapped in the space between you.

“Yeah? I didn’t know you had orders to pull me onto your lap and kiss my neck every second we were around someone else. It was a bit much, don’t you think?”

“A little overkill never hurt anyone,” his eyes narrow and he wants to open his mouth and swallow you. “Besides, you certainly didn’t seem to mind.”

Your face grows warm, but you don’t back down, don’t turn away, not when you hold the winning hand. “I guess I just took you for someone more private, Aventurine.”

“Oh, you have no idea how I am in private.”

“No?” your glass lands heavily along the bar, and he straightens his back as you stand. “Then why don’t you come back to my room and show me?”

And he’s on his feet in the time it takes to blink.

Your room is smaller than his, of course; the two of you nearly fill the hallway, swelling until every inch of it is consumed by your bodies, leaving imprints of your flesh along the walls. It’s not opulent, it's not marble or pillars or gold, but it’s yours, and now, his.

He ushers you inside first, and the moment the door closes, you press into him.

You don’t speak, and neither does he; you don’t have to, not anymore. When your hands trail up his sides, the breath in his throat catches, a beginner’s tell, one he should have outgrown by now, one he knows better than to let slip. The lilting chuckle he lets out, too, tells you all too much.

When your lips meet his, it’s soft at first, all feathers and butterflies. Hesitant and nervous, but yearning.

In a moment, he lets the silk mask slip.

Then, he’s starving. Hands reach around you and grab and beg and hold, trying to tear off pieces of you so he’ll never have to leave this behind. Your teeth sink into his lower lip and he groans into your mouth and you’re grateful for the wood door as you lean every ounce of your weight against him.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted you,” he sighs, and his breath melds with yours until you’re exhaling one another, until the only thing you can feel and hear and taste is him.

“I do.” Blown pupils meet yours, decorated with stars and constellations. “You’re easier to read than you think, Aventurine.”

“You just know me too well,” he smiles, and his lips are back on yours, hungry and gnawing.

With needy hands you drag him from the entryway and towards the bed, the only real piece of furniture inside, luckily.

There’s a practiced ease as you fall to your knees once again, and a gentleness to his hands as he lifts you where you stand.

“Allow me,” he hums.

Softly, he kneels before you, and he can’t bring himself to look away from the warmth radiating from your face. He’s a flower planted beneath you, watered with your smile and grown by your fingertips; you can step on him, if you’d like, or leave him here until his petals kiss your ankles and pluck him so he may stay in your heart.

He undoes your belt and he tugs your waistband down, too impatient to let gravity do the work. Your shirt’s buttons prove a similarly fluid task, despite the way your hands shake as you rush to undo his. Jewelry and accessories drop to the floor before they’re kicked away, lost to the depths of cloth and fur. Finally, he removes his gloves, tugging off each finger with polished teeth.

“Lay down for me, would you?” he asks in that sweet, silky voice, the one that tastes like wood and liquor, that you want to pour down your throat and swallow with heaving gulps.

The bedding is cotton and scratchy and you don’t even mind, not when he leans over you and you feel his skin on yours, soft and bare. It’s the first time he touches you, truly touches you, with his hands, no expensive velvet or obligation or orders in the way, just his flesh and desire.

You know how much his time is worth, the mental tally of credits summing in your mind with each passing second, and yet, his fingers trail patiently downward, resting at your ribs, your hips, your thighs; his lips follow, marking a path along your body, a map he can return to when he inevitably gets lost and must be found.

Settling between your legs, he inhales and fills his lungs with you, with the salt and sage that blooms from your pulse points. Expensive, but not gaudy - the IPC certainly knows how to maintain an appearance.

His tongue is quick and deft, and he nearly misses the way you tense. When he searches your face, he finds furrowed eyebrows and a frown that a more foolish man would pass off as pleasure.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you say. How do you respond to a question you’ve never been asked, one you’d never prepared for? “I think so, yes.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” The sound makes you flinch. “No, just…”

What more is there? It’s just work, you’d say; Use me, he’d say.

“Here.” Intertwining his fingers with yours, he lets his palm sink into the crater of your own. “Squeeze my hand if you want me to stop.”

You nod and smile, crooked and sweet, and he sends one back in return. Slowly, the haven of your thighs welcomes him once again.

He’s softer, now, as he savors you, the way your skin lands on his tongue, the way your hips shift into the mattress. When he presses a finger to your entrance, you gasp and nearly grip his hand, but he pauses, he lets you breathe and relax your knees and stomach. When he pushes further in, a moan falls from your lips and he thinks he’d bet his life savings, go in debt a thousand times over just to hear it again. He knows his luck is true when he adds a second finger and he’s graced with it once more.

“Aventurine,” you breathe, your muscles tensing as the heat in your core builds. You worry what your body will do when it finally overtakes you, when the flames kiss your skin half as kindly as him, so you dig your palms into his hair instead. It’s soft, impossibly so, as you knot it around your knuckles; he groans when your nails scratch along his scalp.

He lets you pull him in, swallowing every sound and touch you’ll grant him with an eager throat. You cry his name when you come undone, and he wonders what fate he owes a debt to for the chance to taste you, hear you, feel you like this.

When he finally leans away, the depths of his pupils have drowned the vibrant cyan and violet that normally kiss their shore, and his chest heaves like a man just saved from the sea. He’s damp like one, too, sweat-slicked hair clinging to his neck.

Light catches on his shoulders and he glows, rising above you as though gravity wouldn’t dare touch him. He kisses you again, and he passes along the ocean and salt and stone, a secret message a fool would miss, but one you can read: I crave you.

There’s no nervousness left as you guide his tip to your entrance, no fear or duty or chains, just his hips and devotion.

“Are you sure?”

Your palm interlinks with his once more, and you grin. “Of course.” The soft, warm skin of his neck finds its way between your teeth, letting it rest behind your canines, and he chuckles eagerly.

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know,” he sighs into you.

“What a wonderful way to die.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him forward. Cool air blesses your spine as your back arches from the bed, more gentle than feathers or a butterfly’s wings, and you welcome him with ease.

He shudders when he bottoms out, cold in spite of the heat emanating from your skin, trapped in the single layer of atoms between your bodies.

A moment passes, then two. And you realize, in the still seconds, that he’s waiting, restraining. A hand held out, an invitation.

Tentatively, your hips circle his, and a golden whine flows from his lips. It drips from the corners and you lap at the fountain of his wealth.

He lets you guide him, then, lets you move and lead and make a show of what you want, what you like. There’s a rhythm he settles into, an angle, a single spot that makes you claw at his back and drink the air from his lungs. And he, an ever-grateful actor, is more than happy to perform.

There’s a control to it, though. A mask.

“Let go,” you whisper into his open mouth.

He chews the words but barely swallows. “What do you mean?”

Your eyelashes flutter open to find him staring down, blinded by the spotlight of your presence; he blinks to clear the flashing. “You’re holding back; let go.”

It’s a miracle you’ve never noticed until this moment, until you’re this close to him, but his grin is a bit uneven, too, the right side of his smile curving ever-so-slightly higher than the left. You wonder how hard he’s had to work to hide it; you wonder what it would take to see it again.

“If you insist.”

His lips crash into yours and you wonder if this is what drowning feels like, to have something in your lungs and your stomach and on your skin and dragging you into it; you wonder if the sea has ever felt this greedy.

Each swell of his pelvis is another wave, crests with no rhythm, an unpredictable high and low. Boats have been lost to less; perhaps they would have been saved if only they’d had his hands waiting to catch them. His, meanwhile, dig into your waist, holding you just under the surface.

Moans blend into each other, and he hits so deep inside you that a cough to dispel the water lodged inside would surely have his name in it, not that you’d ever want to; you want him in every part of you, seeping into the cracks and living there, forever. You inhale and inhale and inhale, until you can’t tell the difference between him and air, until he’s the thing keeping you alive.

The bed shakes, its cheap wood headboard bouncing against the chipping paint of your shitty hotel room, leaving behind damage that you’ll surely have to pay. But how lucky you are to be with a man who can afford to erase the marks he leaves behind.

“I-” he starts, but you already know what he’s about to say (he’s not that hard to read, after all - not when his entire body begins to shake, when his whines strain higher, when he lets his smile fall crooked).

“Don’t stop,” is all you have to say; not that he could, with the way your legs wrap around him; not that he would, with the way you bloom and writhe and swell beneath him.

When he comes undone, it’s accompanied by the most beautiful sound, the most beautiful flush of his cheeks and arch of his back.

And yet, all he hears is you as you hold him, as you follow him under and kiss him through the brine, as you clench around his length and let him twitch and shake and tremble.

It takes a moment for him to still inside you (the sea is never quiet right after a storm). When he does, his eyes search for yours immediately. When they don’t find a smile, he begins to panic - Did he hurt you? Are you scared? Will you hate him? - but in an instant, they crinkle at the corners.

“Well,” you say, breathless.

“Well?” he mirrors, trying to hide the water that still rests in his chest.

“I have to be honest with you,” you hum pensively, letting the practiced control slip back into your voice, letting him worry for half a moment before you continue, “I can now say with confidence, you are exactly the same in private.”

His face stalls for a moment, and then he laughs, and you’ve found a new currency, one you’d happily be indebted in for the rest of your life. “So I take it you’d want to do this again sometime? In spite of the overkill?”

Your grin widens at the corners, uneven and shining. “I’d be a fool not to.”

#posts abt blond man . runs away #i don’t even know if this makes sense but … i love him so much #q writes #oneshot #aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine hsr #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr smut #aventurine smut

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