#Note Cares and Envelopes

[xazse]

Ahhhh I loved your reader hybrid works, literal chefs kiss 😩🤌 can you pls pls pls do a bunny! Reader x Suguru and Satoru

You can’t!

Synopsis: Poor Bunnygirl and puppyboySatoru are experiencing the worst heats ever, good thing their owner Suguru is there to take care of them.

Notes: Hi I decided to bring in our Puppy!BoySatoru if you don’t like it just let me know and I’ll revise this entire thing for you!!

Pairings: Puppy!HybridSatoru x Bunny!GirlReader x Suguru

Warnings: Hybrid!Reader + smut + humping + Hybrid!Satoru + drooling + licking + penetration + lots of cum very nasty + Suguru is a good owner + collars

Suguru is exhausted when he read online that getting a hybrid would take a lot of work they weren’t lying especially Bunnygirls and Puppy!Boys.

He thought he would be ready and prepared, it should be a walk in the park! Of course bumps and falls would occur but with someone as patient as Suguru everything will turn out fine.

A year in everything was so fucking perfect, You and Satoru listened so well he really lucked out with the two of you. Most people would complain on online forums that handling was the hardest thing.

The issues started arising when you and Satoru started getting needy, you were kinda independent before but now you both are always on or under Suguru, you both felt the need to always have your hands on him, roaming his body and even touching each other. More issues started to come when it felt like you and him were so feverish and always sore.

A quick google search brought Suguru to the page of hybrid heats. It happens often and can be unpredictable, it’s slapped in his face and he isn’t sure what to do

“Please-Suguru hurts so bad..”

He surely wasn’t expecting to walk into the scene he’s seeing right now, Satoru laid on his back with you atop him, tears are brimming in both your lashes it looks like you two have been crying and whining for the longest time.

You’re in nothing but panties and a thin tank top with him sporting just his underwear. Satoru’s cock is fully hard pressed agains’t your cunt so snugly and he’s already made a mess: his cum seeping through.

It looks like this is what you two have been doing for all this time, just grinding against each other. He feels terrible, he hadn’t taken the time to fully explain what would be happening to your bodies.

He makes his way over to his dumb pets and you both follow so obediently, leaving each others arms to fully envelope in his. Satoru starts licking and sucking on his neck, he isn’t shy to rub his cock so blatantly, smearing his thick load even more.

He needs to teach his hybrids how to pleasure themselves whilst he isn’t here, he stops Satoru from his suckling. He gently has you lay down admiring just how cute you look, your ears are standing at full attention but your hazy eyes aren’t all there.

He pulls off your sticky panties, a clear line of your cum visible when they’re discarded.

He’s met with an even messier sight when admiring your pussy, your folds are glistening as well as his fingers when he teases your little clit.

Suguru positions Satoru in front of your spread legs, he isn’t sure what to do with himself besides following Suguru’s every direction.

Suguru dips his fingers in your cunt again, guiding them to Satoru’s mouth he has him suck them clean.

Satoru absolutely loves the taste of you, he groans so lewdly as he’s lapping up what’s left of your essence.

When he finishes that up Suguru grabs Satoru’s leaky cock with a rough grip and taps it a few times on your soddened clit, this elicits a few moans out of the both of you. It feels so good already, and yet Suguru can’t wait to show you both just how good cumming feels.

He guides Satoru’s hips pushing his sensitive pink tip past your tight entrance.

“Ahh..ngh…”

The whimpering starts, poor puppy Satoru’s brain can’t comprehend this feeling, he knows the pleasure part of his brain is needing more but his body wants to pull away at the same time, he’s scared at how wet and hot it feels. He isn’t telling Suguru to stop so he continues.

His bunny isn’t fairing any better, you’re gripping the pillows for dear life as a fat cock, something foreign pushes inside of you for the first time.

Suguru sets a slow nice pace, hands still on Satoru’s hips guiding him inside of your wet cavern and out again and again. He’s doing all the work but he doesn’t mind one bit.

Suguru pauses working Gojo into you and lets him feel you, for real this time. Your walls are twitching and clamping down on him so hard.

He slides down into the crook of your neck and cries right there, it’s such a sad sight but so arousing at the same time.

“Cmon Toru, gotta make bunny feel good too.”

Satoru listens and begins licking your sensitive neck, he knows that’s a weak spot of yours, always triggering it when he’s roughhousing with you. His hips begin speeding up, the wet sounds of your cum mixing together and being slammed against one another is loud and bounces off the walls.

You cry out loud letting Suguru know that you feel weird, your tummy feels weird and it’s hurting. He reassures you and says to just let it go.

Suguru teases and grabs Satoru’s balls, head diving into his first load of the afternoon, it’s a good bit of cum he produces, Suguru is going to spend a good hour cleaning the both of you up!

[chuluoyi]

✎ unconcealable

- gojo satoru x reader

your boyfriend may not show it, but the six eyes are his burden to bear. you know it firsthand when he falls into your arms for the first time

genre: teen!gojo, fluff, hurt/comfort, flashback and fast-forward to dad!gojo later

note: hello hello i’m alive~ i have this little thing of fluff/comfort pampering in my head throughout my vacation and it’s been a long time since i last wrote about teen!gojo so here it is :D will proofread later when i get the chance!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Back in 2006—

“Satoru, move away—”

“Nuh, uh! I’m staying! You’re too soft~”

“Satoru, If Yaga-sensei walks in… he’ll think we’re doing something indecent!”

“Mmm, don't care~”

This is the gym. Anyone could walk in. And yet your boyfriend of three weeks, Gojo Satoru, claimed his place by resting his head on your lap and squeezing his eyes shut so comfortably… like a cat.

You sighed, vexed and almost giving up— and then you noticed just how good-looking he was. Not that you just realized it now, but his long eyelashes, his smooth skin, white hair...

You have snagged a heartthrob. Or at least he could be if it wasn't for his questionable tendencies.

“Satoru, I’m being serious,” you griped, blinking back your pounding heart and starting to get anxious if anyone would see the two of you on the floor, with him over you. “Get up. Now.”

He knitted his brows together. “So stingy... Can’t your dashing boyfriend get five more minutes?”

“No. Up. Now.” You learnt by experience that the more you indulged Satoru, the more you would be inclined to comply as well. So before he dragged you into that hole...

“Hmph! No!”

“I’ll really flip you if you don’t move—!”

And that’s finally when he cracked his eyes open, totally pouting. “So mean! My head is hurting, you know! I just want to rest a bit!”

You were somewhat taken aback by his little outburst but he really got up this time, and then he stalked away, mumbling complaints.

"Some girlfriend you are... so not considerate..." he pursed his lips together, seemingly hurt as he made his way out.

That almost annoyed you greatly, and you were about to retort back when to your shock, he suddenly clutched his head and staggered. "Ahh—"

"Satoru!"

You sprinted to him and caught him as he wobbled, supporting his weight.

"Are you okay? What happened?!" you were so spooked that you went down with him to the floor again. And you immediately pulled him to you when he heaved a shuddering breath.

"I'm okay—" he said in a pant, pressing his eyes together so tightly. "I'm okay, I'm okay! Don't—"

"You're not, you idiot!"

Something with his eyes. It just dawned to you that he didn't wear his sunglasses today, and by instinct, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing him close to your chest.

"Is it hurting badly now?" you worriedly asked, keeping him tight in your embrace. "Do you want me to get you something?"

Contrary to your worries, what Satoru was more focused on was the exponential warmth that enveloped him. He had a migraine for a while there, but you so easily anchored him, making it somehow hurt less.

"You said Yaga-sensei will catch us and think we're having sex," he sullenly accused to hide the sudden blush spreading quickly on his face. "You didn't care about me just a minute ago."

"That's... a minute ago!" you hissed. "Now I'm worried!"

Your response made him smile despite himself. Satoru found comfort in the darkness of being squished against your boobs... perhaps way more than he thought he would.

"Then let me stay like this for a while. I'll be okay in a jiffy, 'kay?"

"Hmm," you hummed, absent-mindedly stroking his soft hair. You started to feel bad for chasing him away earlier, and squeezed him. "Does your head hurt often?"

"Whoa, it's only when I'm like this that you'll touch me so openly," he responded with a mock sigh, and you fought the urge not to roll your eyes. "Poor me."

"Poor you indeed. So answer me, does it, or does it not?"

"Nah, it's just how it is sometimes. Just some side effects of my eyes, you see."

"Why don't you wear your glasses today?"

"...Nanami broke them after I ate his last doughnut."

"You..." you almost giggled, and yet so exasperated at the same time. But the way Satoru squeezed your waist to hug you in return made you spare him.

You two stayed like that for a while, and when the bell rang to indicate the start of the next period, you asked him again. "Are you okay now?"

"Mm-hm, yeah, much better."

"Then let's go back to your class. I'll help you go there."

"Ehh..." But Satoru, ever the stubborn one, just buried his face into you, holding on tight and not letting go at all. "No."

You frowned. "Why—"

"Don't wanna move~ your boobs are just too good..."

"—? What—"

"They're soooo soft. Seems jiggly too? Ah, my pain is healed! Oh! When we get married, will I get to bite them too—"

"Satoru, you!"

Long story short, you two missed the next period just because Satoru nagged you to stay with him... and at the end of it all, the ones who opened the doors to the gym were Nanami and Haibara, who immediately went to report to Yaga and red-faced respectively.

Back to present—

"Time for your teardrops!"

Satoru squeezed the bottle of eyedrops, lining it up with the striking blue eyes of his six-year-old son, an cute little pumpkin who was a carbon copy of him in every way, as he laid his head on his lap.

"Mmngh," his son squirmed as the water made contact with his sensitive eyes, and squeezed both eyes shut as soon as his papa was done.

Having inherited his eyes, the boy had started to feel pain whenever he accidentally overused them. Satoru knew the feeling well, and as much as he tried to humor him, something inside him prickled whenever he saw him getting teary-eyed due to the pain.

"Still stings?" he asked with a frown. "Want to use blindfold cover your eyes, hmm?"

Your son mumbled, "...no."

"What do you want then?"

"...I want mama."

Satoru snorted, pinching his boy's plump cheek fondly. "Same, kiddo. I want mama too."

The little boy cracked his eyes open out of spite. "You always bother her everyday."

"It's not as if you do not but whatever." Satoru pursed his lips as he stared at his boy. "If only I can put those rotting grandpas in elderly home, your mama can be freed from missions."

The kid snuggled close to his lap, seeking comfort, and suddenly, he felt flash of warmth burst inside him, realizing that his little munchkin wanted him to make him feel better.

"Look, I'm not mama, but I can do this too—" he hoisted his son, and hugged him close, hiding his little face into his sturdy chest. "Here you go. Better?"

The little baby that forever connects him to you. Satoru loved his son as much as he loved you.

He had no one to really comfort him in the early days of misusing his eyes— they only told him that it was the price for the greatness he would possess. Until you did. You didn’t speak of power or strength. Each time he suffered from those migraines back then, you would hold him close.

And so, he'd be damned if the same thing happened to his precious son. He wouldn't let him be told that—he would do his best to soothe him, to make him feel safe.

"Tomorrow we're getting kikufuku, yeah?" he said with a smile, patting his son’s back gently. "And ice cream too."

"Mmm... 'kay..." the boy replied. "Papa... sleepy..."

"Then sleep, kid. I'll wake you when mama comes back, yeah?"

You. The baby. The two of you were always the center of his world. As he too drifted off to sleep beside his son, he thought that chasing after you was most definitely the greatest decision he made from that blue spring that would never return in his life.

Epilogue

"I'm home!"

Your mission ended with a bang as you completely obliterated the cursed spirit. You went home with a spring in your steps, thinking that your silly husband and cute son would be waiting for you in this afternoon.

But no one greeted you back, and you found yourself walking to your master bedroom, only to be floored by the sight.

Satoru had dozed off so unguardedly, but he had one protective arm over your son, who was also sleeping. They looked like a pair of twins, and the way your son curled up to your husband melted your heart so much that it brought a wide smile on your face.

Click! Click! You took several photos so you would be able to look at their sleepy state whenever you wanted. But as you marveled at the photographs, suddenly a sneaky hand yanked you—

"Whoa—!"

"Shh, you'll wake him up, mama," Satoru sleepily grinned as he smooched your face. "You took so long, I missed you."

"I finished one day early," you huffed, but then your expression softened as you gazed at your sleeping son. "Seems like both of you are getting along well while I was gone~"

"I fed him mochi and cookies, of course he'll be obedient."

"—! I told you he'll get cavities soon if you don't limit the sweets intake!"

"Oh? Then we just have to have another baby who won't get cavities just as you wish then~"

"That's not how it works! Satoru, you—!"

[smallfisheyes]

it's silly, you know, but you have to try it. may the grapes work.

nanami kento can’t find you when the clock strikes midnight.

there was a ruckus, the release of fireworks outside (who permitted fireworks on school premises?), and cheers of happy new year. itadori toots one of those awful noisemakers. tuna mayos and hugs are exchanged. as planned, nanami maintains a wide berth from gojo, recalling his attempts at a sloppy kiss the previous year. it is a new year; the year of the snake.

but you are nowhere in sight.

why does nanami's belly feel like it's sinking? he smiles, but there is an ache in the centre of his chest. his eyes flick left and right, the festivities unfolding before his eyes. the school had been decorated by the students with the funding of gojo's shiny black card, reds and golds streaming along the walls. stuffed snakes (inumaki's idea) were thrown haphazardly onto the ground. the remnants of the party games from earlier scatter the table-clothed tables.

in your stead, shoko meets nanami's eyes. he nods, giving her a brief hug, sure to grip her just below the shoulder and just above the waist.

"happy new year," he mumbles. shoko smiles. it is politeness exchanged with a colleague and friend, but this is not how he pictured his first interaction of the year (and with whom it was shared).

kento had planned it down to the tee: your favourite wine, no more than two whiskeys, arriving just after you to seemingly rescue you from forcing yourself to yap about things you did not care about (work) with a person you could not care less about (gojo). kento was meticulous, more meticulous than he was at that awful firm he worked at in his early twenties. he had to be. the moment must be perfect. you deserved a wonderful evening. yet, there was a variable he forgot to consider: he couldn't find you.

"ah, nanamin," shoko hums. kento steps back, offering his full attention. there's that awful look on that face of hers, one that dates back more than ten years. the teasing one that reminds kento he is nothing but a lost junior; a silly, unkowing little boy with punk bangs. one that is about to be berated by the scary bobbed girl with a cigarette habit.

a force seizes his lungs, halting their movement. may the berating begin.

"are you looking for someone?" shoko teases. that tone. how grating.

"what gave it away?" no frustration laces kento's voice, only soft desperation.

shoko stacks her hands together and brings them to the side of her face. she tilts her head, her voice sing-song-y. "nothing, just that look of yearning."

kento huffs in frustration. his fists curl in impatience. "where is she, shoko?"

shoko steps to the side, an evil scientist revealing her latest experiment.

when kento sees what is behind her, the world tilts just right.

there you are, under the table, crouched and feral. kento draws back at the sight of you: a monkey, primitive and on the hunt for food. in quick succession, large and luscious green grapes were thrown into your mouth. you were a chipmunk. you stuffed your face full of grapes before you even finished chewing. 

you were always a wonder.

shoko's voice is soft, her note of contentment complimenting kento's sudden leisure at the sight of you. "happy new year, nanamin." she pads away.

kento makes a note to gift shoko a red envelope the following day.

there you are; his little star. kento moves, crouches, and parts the red tablecloth.

"you never told me you liked grapes."

your grape-a-thon veers to a halt. absolute horror stills your chewing. you have at least five grapes in your mouth. 

kento smiles wide. a rush of warmth washes over him. he could squish you.

this too much attention from a too handsome man. you turn your head away to fend off the rush of blood to your face.

"they're soh exsensiv hare," kento makes out between your voice and the grapes. you chew rigorously, averting your eyes. you hold a hand in between your wobbly mouth and kento’s eyes, falsely creating a front to maintain your dignity. "tha’s why you don seh meh eaving them. gofo saeh he woulv give them tah me."

kento bristles. he would get grapes for you anyday. command or none.

"may i join you?"

you chew a little more in thought, grimacing as you swallow. kento tries hard not to watch your throat, but he can’t resist. 

“of course.” you’re sincere. you’ve gone shy. his heart aches. he wants to make you get bashful like this every day.

you scooch over to make room for large and long nanami kento to sit beside you under the table. he’s still wearing those winged shoes you love, but opted for a white knitted sweater that makes you wonder how soft it is. you almost reach for kento’s arm, but you draw back. you’re under the table eating grapes for a reason. you deflate. five more grapes to go.

“you don’t need to be under here with me,” you reassure kento. kento looks like a stuffy that got pounded into a too small toy chest. his neck cranes and his bottom is awkwardly sat in a cross cross. you smile. you want this to last forever. 

“i can’t let you be here alone. it’s new years.”

you wring your hands together. you need to eat four more grapes. “thanks, kento.”

you eat your grapes now, but slower. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. weren’t you supposed to eat all twelve grapes before midnight was over? you glance over at the clock. it’s already too late. 

you open your palms: four beautiful green grapes, grown and harvested in japan. when you arrived here, you hadn’t realized fruit was a luxury. fruit is difficult to grow. the majority of land is ill-suited for fruit. 

four wasted beautiful grapes.

“that’s enough grapes for tonight.” kento gently takes your hand and rests them on his own. he cups yours, creating a shield. his hands are warm. they’re so much bigger than yours. “you never needed them.”

“yes i did,” you insisted. 

kento shakes his head. “no. you don’t need any of that nonsense.”

your frown is deep. your eyes are in a different place. kento cups your hands more firmly now. “you never needed the grapes, darling.”

it’s instinct, the little “no” that forms on the tip of your tongue. it takes a second, another, to realize the precious thing kento had called you.

darling. YOU. darling?!

suddenly, you’re the one gripping kento’s hands. “what did you say?!”

kento shakes his head, patting your hand. “you make this difficult.” 

“you! you called me–” you guffaw like a fish when kento nods a tired affirmative, like it was obvious all along. “please don’t lie.”

kento’s eyes turn icy. “i would never lie to you.”

your lips wobble pathetically. you hate this man. he makes you silly and makes your heart beat too fast. he makes you want to turn away and stare all the same because he is too handsome. too kind. so him. and you had always wanted him. but the yearning? you never expected it to be returned.

“nanami kento, were you always on tiktok?”

kento throws back his head and laughs. you stare for too long. you’re allowed to now. “i have three wonderful students.”

the year of the snake will be a wonderful one.

you leave the remaining grapes for gojo. he needed them more than you.

i can't stare at this anymore please take it as it is. happy year of the snake everyone :) hissss

[mystra-midnight]

The Devil and I

summary: logan might have looked like an ordinary man, but the weight of his metal-laced bones pressing against your back was intoxicating—deliciously so. and he knew this with the same certainty with which he knew the earth revolved around the sun.

warnings: 18+ only. dom!logan. rough sex. messy sex. spanking. tiny hint of anal play.

words: 1.8k.

notes: i am not even sorry. not one bit. this was inspired entirely by this post by @i-spit-on-your-garage and dedicated to her also. thank you for sharing your horny thoughts with me.

"That's it, baby, taking me so well."

Logan's voice was a gruff growl against your ear, crawling up his throat and over your skin like whiskey, full-bodied. His breath, warm and tinged with a hint of smoke, sent shivers down your spine. His large hands kneaded the flesh of your hips as he dragged you against his pelvis again, the sound of skin hitting skin loud, leaving your arse stinging from the impact.

You'd never given much thought to his body until now. What had started as harmless flirting—a dirty fantasy about fucking the mutant called Wolverine—had taken a turn. It wasn't that he wasn't attractive; in fact, Logan was the epitome of a woman's wildest dreams. He was tall and impossibly strong, his muscles rippling under your fingertips. But what surprised you most was his weight, the heaviness that came from the adamantium skeleton beneath his warm flesh.

Logan might have looked like an ordinary man, but the weight of his metal-laced bones pressing against your back was intoxicating—deliciously so. And he knew this with the same certainty with which he knew the Earth revolved around the Sun. 

That's why he kept you in this position: on your knees, face pressed into the mattress, hips raised, your slick folds stretched around his girth. Logan relished seeing his women like this—whiny and cock-drunk, the perfect plaything for his pleasure. Your voice was muffled, fingers digging into the sheets so tightly they hurt. You could barely make a sound as he thrust into you, each powerful stroke forcing gasps from your lungs. He didn't mind.

Your entire body trembled when his hand moved up your sweaty back, each fingertip tracing the delicate curve of your spine with deliberate tenderness. The sensation was electric, a shiver-inducing journey that left your skin prickling with goosebumps. He paused at each vertebra, applying just enough pressure to make you arch before continuing his path upward. When his fingers finally reached the nape of your neck, they didn't simply rest there—they curled possessively, his grip firm and unyielding, as if he was claiming ownership of your very being.

He pinned you against the mattress with effortless dominance, his weight pressing you down, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. The warmth of his breath ghosted over your ear, a tantalising promise of what was to come. His presence was overwhelming, a dark force looming over you like a stalking shadow, enveloping you in his warmth.

Somehow, you managed to suck in a shaky breath, a soft whine escaping your lips as he turned your face towards his, and then his lips crashed into yours with a fierce hunger. The kiss was made entirely of tongue, teeth, and saliva. His tongue invaded your mouth, exploring every corner with a desperation that matched your own. His teeth grazed and nipped, a blend of pleasure and pain that sent jolts of heat straight to your core. Saliva mixed and smeared, creating a mess neither of you cared to clean.

As he slowed the piston of his hips, switching to a slow deep grind that had the crown of his cock abusing that sweet spot inside your pussy, your eyes rolled so far into your skull that, for a fleeting moment, you thought you saw your own brain. It was like he was carving his way into your guts and hitting the back of your throat. "Lo-gan!" You gasped as a sob welled in your chest, your tears finally falling, leaving streaks of mascara and eyeliner down your cheeks. "M-more, faster, please," you begged.

He tutted mockingly behind you, each sound dripping with condescension and the unmistakable arrogance of pure male dominance. Before you could react, his open palm came down hard on your arse, the sudden, stinging impact tearing a surprised shriek from your lips. The sharp zing of pain cut through your already-burning skin, sending a fresh wave of moisture surging through your core. The sensation caused your inner muscles to tighten around the length of his shaft, gripping him firmly as he bottomed out inside you, his cock buried to the hilt.

He stilled for a moment, savouring the feeling of being completely enveloped by your slick heat. Without warning, he spanked you again, the loud crack of his hand against your flesh echoing through the room. You hissed at the sharp sting, your pussy clenching around him. He growled in response, the sensation of your tight walls driving him wild.

"Greedy girl," he grunted against your ear. His hand came down again, delivering another hard spank that resonated through your body, the sting of it sending a jolt of pleasurable pain straight to your clit. His hand lingered there, palming the globe of your arse as he admired the perfect handprint he'd left, the outline of his fingers vivid against your flushed skin. He could feel the slickness coating your inner thighs, the evidence of your arousal mixing with the sweat on your skin, dripping from his balls as he thrust hard into you.

The air was thick with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the wet slap of skin against skin as he thrust into you, driving deep, setting a fast pace. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice a rough, guttural sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Keep squeezing me like that, and I'm gonna blow right fucking now."

Logan's gaze remained fixed on your arse, his cock twitching inside you at the thought of what it would be like to actually fuck you there. The idea consumed him, driving him to act on his desires. With a growl, he slipped his thumb into his mouth, wetting it thoroughly before bringing it down to your tight hole. He smeared his spit around your sensitive entrance, groaning deeply as your pussy tightened around him in response.

"Logan!" you cried out, his name slipping from your lips in a breathless plea.

His grin widened at the sound, his expression smug, and he tightened his grip on the nape of your neck, pulling you up onto your hands and knees. “You gonna let me fuck you back here next, bub?” he asked, already knowing what your answer would be.

You moaned wantonly, nodding as you pushed back against him, meeting his powerful thrusts halfway and impaling yourself on his thick cock. “Gods, please, I want it so bad,” you begged, sounding like a common whore.

“Atta girl.”

This was all he said, his voice so arrogant and condescending, before grabbing both your hips tightly, steadying you, his fingers leaving bruises on your skin. The force of his thrusts was maddening, driving you to claw at the sheets, your body teetering on the brink of orgasm embarrassingly quickly. Your walls clamped tightly around him, each movement sending you closer to the edge. It felt like a thunderstorm was tearing through your head, igniting every one of your nerves.

You could hear him grunting, feel the droplets of sweat dripping from his hair onto your back and how his fingers bruised harder into your hips, holding so tightly that your bones were sure to bend and break. But none of this registered in your mind the way it should have. You were lost in the moment, drowning in the overwhelming pleasure about to ruin you.

"Gonna cum—right there, right there—please, please, Logan. I need to cum. Fuck me—ah, harder, fuck, fuck—Logan!"

He was wild and feral—an animal.

Without warning, the air was punched out of your lungs as the orgasm struck you like a bolt of lightning, turning your blood into electricity and your limbs into live wires. You came hard, crying out a pretty symphony of his name as pleasure wracked your body. At the same time, he bottomed out, burying himself balls deep and filling you completely, shooting thick, ivory ropes of cum deep inside you, coating your walls.

Fisting a hand in your hair, he wound the silken strands around his fingers, using the grip to force your face back down against the mattress. His hips ground against your arse, rocking gently back and forth, his movements sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body. And as he came with a guttural growl, his release surged into you, hot and overwhelming, flooding your still-fluttering walls.

The fullness was almost too much, his cum filling you completely until it had nowhere else to go. It began to seep out, slick and warm, trailing down the seam of your pussy where your tight grip on his cock created a barrier. Warmth spread through your body like fire racing through your veins, an intoxicating heat that intensified as he filled, fucked, and possessed you entirely.

His teeth sank into your shoulder in a savage bite as you panted his name in sweet nymphomania, wriggling beneath him, his weight comforting—like a heavy blanket. Logan's tongue followed, laving over your flushed flesh, soothing the sting left by his canines. He growled deeply, savouring the taste of you as his abdominal muscles flexed and his cock ached, twitching inside you with every pulse of your body.

When he finally began to pull out, you couldn't suppress the whine that escaped your lips, the sound filled with a sense of loss. The feeling of emptiness was stark, save for where the head of his cock remained nestled just inside your snug walls, a final intimate connection.

Logan sat back on his haunches, taking a moment to admire the view before him. Your arse was flushed the most beautiful shade of pink, marked by his handprints and the forceful impact of his hips. Thick ribbons of cum dripped from your swollen folds, which were slick with the evidence of your release. The mixture of your arousal and his seed connected you to his cock in a vivid tapestry of desire, each drop falling to the mattress below.

He watched as the thick fluid dripped from both of you, creating a small, glistening pool beneath your bodies. With a rough but affectionate touch, Logan patted your arse, the force making it jiggle and your hips twitch involuntarily. His satisfaction was evident in the low, gravelly tone of his voice. "That felt like a good one," he remarked, a hint of pride lacing his words as he continued to drink in the sight of you, thoroughly used and utterly beautiful.

He snapped his hips forward, rutting into you with surprising vigour, filling you again and relishing in the wet squelching that echoed through the room. Each thrust forced his cum to leak from your well-used pussy, the slick evidence of your coupling escaping with every movement. You gasped, the sensation almost too much to bear, your hips wriggling as though to escape the overwhelming pleasure that teetered on the edge of overstimulation. But Logan only laughed as he thoroughly enjoyed how your body remained so tightly wound, so damn sensitive and ready to take him.

His stamina, just like the weight of his skeleton, was a marvel. It shouldn't have been surprising, given his mutation. His body was in a constant state of peak performance, always regenerating and healing. Logan 'Wolverine' Howlett had never been a one-and-done type of man; he was relentless and insatiable.

"Hope you don't think we're done, bub," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly promise against your ear. "'Cause we've got all night."

[lokissweater]

sunday's 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

{yuta okkotsu x popular f!reader}

summary: yuta okkotsu has been in love with you since he started college— living in the shadows of your popularity as he watched from afar how your bouncy and genuine kind soul prospered and shined everywhere you went. but during one of his shifts at the 50s diner down the street from his campus, you walk in with you friends one sunday night and immediately bond over your shared love for elvis presley’s music, yuta stammering and fidgety at how pretty you are up close, and you falling fast for his pinky cheeks, sweet little words, and how he takes care of you every single day.

warnings: college!au, FLUUUFFF omg so cute, lovesick yuta he thinks you’re so prettyyy, no smut in this one!, popular reader, cursing, afab!reader, lots of mentions of elvis presley LOL, little bit of angst, clueless yuta, strangers to friends to lovers.

word count: 9.6k

authors note: THIS ONE HITS HOMEEE FOR MEEE AAAHHHH CAN YOU TELL I LOVE ELVIS PRESLEY? i live and breathe that man and oldies in general, so this is a love letter to him! :] this fic is all of my favorite things combined and it is SO FREAKING CUUTEEEE UGH i hope you all love it seriously <3333 MWAAHHH I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU—

yuta okkotsu had never seen a girl so beautiful.

you were breathtaking, watching from afar, it was truly as if the world revolved around you in the most positive way yuta could think of.

you were popular— a beam of gorgeous light following you everywhere you went as you were always just enveloped by people and strangers and friends, them wanting to talk to you, wanting to get to know you, wanting you to better their lives because that’s what you selflessly liked to do for everyone without knowing.

and every time he’d walk in between lectures and spot you— feeling in the dumps if on certain days he’d miss your presence entirely, he’d just stare. stare with pink cheeks and softened eyes as you laughed and messed around with your friends or did extracurricular activities around campus, always giving a helping hand to those who needed it no matter the status.

that’s what yuta admired the most about you. you didn’t treat anybody differently just because they didn’t stand in the same level as you. you didn’t care about things like that, and you spoke to people with such fucking class and poise, that he always dozed off picturing how it would be like if he ever had the privilege of actually speaking with you.

that’s how most of his work shifts went at the diner after his classes.

he would wait tables or be in the kitchen, wipe down the windows or run the hostess stand… and you’d be on his mind— permanently there to torment him in the loveliest way he knew how.

and on one sunday night, you were unexpectedly there right in front of him at his job.

“hello?”

you waved a gentle hand over his face, and he snapped out of it immediately, cheeks pinky and bright, your friends snickering.

“yes! s—sorry.” he reached behind the hostess stand. “how many are with you?”

“four!” you responded sweetly, yuta having to swallow the huge lump in his throat as he officially saw your smile up close for the first time in his life— a gorgeous contrast to what it looked like from far away.

yuta quickly grabbed the corresponding menus and stepped to the side of the hostess stand, leading you and your friends through the empty restaurant and to a big booth— placing two menus down on each side of the table.

a series of elvis presley oldies (a personal pick from yuta) played through the jukebox in the middle of the diner while you and your friends scanned the menu, yuta fidgeting and anxious with his pen and notepad, waiting for you to order.

“do you have a favorite milkshake from here?” your kind voice spoke, looking up at him.

“uh— milkshake?”

your friends snickered again, but this time, you turned to them and shot them all a menacing glare.

“hey!— stop that you guys…” you shook your head at them and turned back to a red faced yuta, smiling apologetically. “i’m sorry! i’m really sorry.”

your friends only looked annoyed as they buried their faces in their menus or looked away entirely— yuta shaking his head softly.

“n—no it’s alright. um— i usually prefer this one-”

he timidly pointed his pen downward, the words ‘elvis shake’ reading from it.

“it has uh— vanilla ice cream with peanut butter and bananas.” he pursed his lips. “if… if you like that?”

“oh i’m a whore for anything with peanut butter in it!…” your hands spread flat across the menu as you leaned closer, yuta shyly laughing a little at your wording.

you looked up then, your eyes bright and excited and yuta doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him the way you were at that moment.

“is that why you like it? because of the peanut butter?”

“yeah! yeah definitely... m— mainly because of the name though.”

you stopped and your eyebrows furrowed. “elvis? do you listen to him?”

his cheeks buzzed. “do you?”

“y/n!” one of your friends harshly whispered to you from across the table. “are we here to chit chat or are we here to eat?”

“fuck okay! jesus—”

you and the rest of your group ordered, yuta nervously scribbling down the names of various platters and drinks before silently excusing himself to send the note off to the kitchen staff.

and when it came around to serving your food, placing each individual dish down for each person— yuta gently settled the elvis shake you got in front of you, adorned with baby pink sprinkles over a mountain of whipped cream with a cherry on top, something that yuta did extra for you out of the goodness of his infatuated heart, since it didn’t come with the drink in the first place.

he didn’t know why, but he could tell that the energy was different between you and your friends the second time he came around, and after hiding in the kitchen for the entirety of the time you were there instead of outside waiting tables like he was supposed to, by the third time he came back around— you were fighting with them.

he quickly retreated behind the bar and made himself look busy, guiltily eavesdropping as he picked up a random salt shaker and falsely examined it.

“i don’t understand why you guys can’t just be nice!” you pushed. “is having a normal conversation with somebody that funny? every time?”

“y/n you always talk to a bunch of rando’s of course it’s funny.”

“what the hell does that even mean?”

“it means it looks odd and you’re embarrassing yourself every time you skip around not being mindful of who you’re having conversations with!” one of them seethed, their tone judgemental and rude and one yuta didn’t like at all.

“like— like the server today! i’m pretty sure i’ve seen him around campus, he’s odd. why were you asking him about— about— who the fuck were you asking him about?“

“elvis.” you spat. “i was asking him about elvis."

“that guy! who cares? he works here why do you have to always talk to people like that—”

“like what?!” you threw your arms up. “like a normal decent human being would? i can see why you’d lack that.”

“excuse me?”

“yeah. and it sucks for you.”

“sucks for?— okay. i think we’re done here.”

“way fucking done.”

as each of them scooched out of the booth, yuta watched with wide panicked eyes while you stayed seated and silent, arms crossed over your chest and lips tight as you glared.

“i don’t know why everyone loves you so much…” one of them muttered. “there isn’t anything to you.”

and they all walked out, the bell above the door chiming as they did.

yuta’s eyes darted from you to the exit and to them through the window outside in the parking lot, watching fucking gobsmacked as they all got in one singular car and sped off, leaving you there by yourself and with the responsibility of the bill.

soft sniffles reached him, and he turned then, your body hunched over on the table as you cried with your head down, yuta’s heart aching for you.

he put down the random salt shaker he was holding and walked around the bar, slowly making his way towards your table.

“you don’t—”

you shot up startled.

“sorry! sorry—” he awkwardly scratched his pinky cheek. “i was just— gonna say you don’t have to pay the bill… i— i can—”

“oh! no you don’t have to do that.” you wiped your cheeks. “it’s okay i can pay it.”

“but they left you the entire bill.” he said softly.

“i know… it’s okay! really.” you smiled a little through your tears, the sight making his shoulders slump.

how you could possibly smile at a time like this was beyond him.

yuta started clearing the empty plates from your table when you spoke up again.

“i’m sorry you had to deal with their attitude...” you mumbled. “and my ugly crying.”

he smiled softly and shook his head. “no it’s okay. you shouldn’t apologize for them.”

“i should though…” you whined a little. “they were being mean the moment we got here and were just straight disrespectful.”

you leaned back against the plush of the booth and crossed your arms, muttering. “it’s not like they were my friends either..”

yuta quirked a confused brow, setting the last of the plates away in the kitchen before coming back around. “they weren’t?”

“nuh uh.” you shook your head. “i had just met them today actually, from a sorority event. i thought they were nice at first but i started noticing they were a little bitchy.”

“bitchy?” he laughed a little, his heart leaping like a little leap frog at the realization that it was just you and him at the diner alone, the cooks having already gone home seeing as it was past closing time for the diner.

“yeah…” you sighed deeply through your nose. “they weren’t being very nice to the other girls there either… and— and when they asked me if i wanted to come eat here with them i didn’t really want to go but—” you pursed your lips, a sheepish look on your face. “i have a hard time saying no to people so…”

yuta’s eyes softened, leaning back against the edge of the long bar table as he eyed how resilient you tried to come across but damn well knowing you were hurting inside by their actions, your cheeks still wet and your bottom lip in a slight pout.

“what they said to you wasn’t very nice…” he murmured. “i’m sorry they did that.”

you smiled warmly. “it’s okay. i get it here and there.”

his eyebrows furrowed. “here and there? what do you mean?”

“from other people that i meet.” you perked up slightly then. “do you wanna sit?” you signaled to the seat across from you in the booth and he stiffened, eyes wide and cheeks pink as he reluctantly scooched his legs over and sat across from you.

“they just get a little mad when i don’t do what they want me to do.”

“like be mean? like them?”

you shrugged a little, but the way your gorgeous eyes peered up at him indicated that he was right. “i suppose.”

“are all of your friends like that?”

“oh no! thankfully not…” you fiddled with your fingers on the table. “a lot of them are really sweet.”

yuta never thought about how something like this could be a possibility, as all he saw was how much you were loved and idolized and sought after by literally anyone who knew your name— but he missed the mark on the logistics of it. he should’ve known certain girls wouldn’t be in favor of you and desired what you didn’t have to work very hard for to get.

he saw how you wiped the remnants of your wet cheeks and sniffed, looking like you had at least recovered from crying but still a little dejected as you slouched over the table, eyes down.

“do you want… another elvis shake?”

you looked up. “what?”

“a—another shake. do you want one?” he stood slowly from the booth. “or i could get you ice cream? we just have vanilla and chocolate but—”

“oh no! it’s okay really i don’t want to freeload over what you have—”

he giggled a little. “you’re not freeloading. i’m offering.”

and before you could reject him again, he was already making his way to the kitchen— hands skillfully prepping his favorite milkshake like he’d done so many times before since the age of sixteen, and now skillfully and lovingly preparing it for you, the girl he’s adored since the moment he started college.

you stood and timidly followed after him, but instead of fully going into the kitchen, you stopped in front of the vintage burgundy jukebox and scanned the selection of songs.

“you won’t get in trouble?” you worriedly called over your shoulder. “i don’t want you to run into issues with your job…”

“no it’s okay!” you heard from the kitchen, glasses and silverware clinking together. “i’ve been working here since high school and my manager doesn’t mind. i usually um— close on sunday’s on my own too.”

the blender went off as you spotted your favorite elvis presley song on the list of selections, perking up and quickly digging into your purse for any stray quarters you magically hoped would appear inside.

yuta switched the blender off and unhooked it from the base, pouring out the frothy liquid into a fountain glass cup.

“you close on your own on sunday’s?” your head turned to where he was, catching little glimpses of him from the doorway as he moved to and fro. “the entire restaurant?”

“yeah…” he laughed awkwardly. “well— all of the time.”

“all of the time?!” you gawked, popping your head into the kitchen and accidentally scaring him.

“oh shit!—”

“sorry!” you giggled cutely. “i’m sorry…”

he laughed with you and waved you off. “it’s okay.”

yuta looked down and proceeded topping your milkshake with baby pink sprinkles again. “and yeah we’re kind of… understaffed right now. it’s just me and another kid.”

you hummed understandingly, watching the way he finished off your shake with two cherries on top instead of one like last time, making you softly smile in response.

he plopped a straw in. “here you go.”

“thank you!” you bounced excitedly on your little toes and he grinned, handing the glass over to you gently.

“i hope you feel better…”

your milkshake filled cheeks made him laugh as you paused and swallowed, the sweetest expression ever on your face as your eyes flickered to his name tag and back to him.

“i do yuta… thank you!”

the way his name rang off your tongue, something he never ever would’ve thought to hear come out of your mouth, to come out from you, sent him feeling lightheaded as fuck as he dropped his head down to hide his rosy cheeks, walking out of the kitchen as you followed after him.

you paused in front of the jukebox again.

“oh! i didn’t get to hear your answer from earlier.”

he picked his head up. “from earlier?”

“if— if you listen to elvis?”

“oh—” his gaze drifted to where you had your focus on the elvis presley selection panel on the machine. “i do! i love his music.”

you beamed, eyes lighting up so excitedly as you looked at him.

“oh my god i love him too! so much!”

“really?” he smiled. “do you— do you have a favorite song?”

“yeah! i have a lot...” you giggled shyly. “but i mainly like ‘always on my mind.’”

“that one’s a good one!” his smile grew. “i love that one too.”

“right?!” you stepped closer to him, and his face flushed. “and you? what about you?”

“i uh— i like ‘moody blue’…”

you gushed. “i like that one too!”

you loved the way his pinky cheeks bloomed and how kind he was— the way he tried his best to make you, a stranger, feel better with a cute little milkshake, his stuttering and fidgeting something that you found yourself adoring and only made your heart mushy with the weird need to pinch his rosy cheeks.

and he loved elvis.

“i’m glad you like him.” you hummed, running the pad of your index finger mindlessly over the smooth glittery surface of the jukebox. “people don’t really listen to him or oldies in general now.”

you gently set your nearly finished milkshake on the bar table as he nodded his head in agreement, thinking he couldn’t fall more in love with you over the fact that you actually liked one of his favorite artists. “i didn’t—expect you to either…”

you tilted your head. “really? why?”

“because—” he stammered, eyes darting around your breathtaking face. “well you’re popular. and pretty. and in a sorority. and i just—”

“oh— i see!” you smiled with blushing cheeks at his quick compliment, but it didn’t really reach your eyes. “i understand.”

“no but!—” your eyes stayed glued to the jukebox, and he worried that he might’ve accidentally offended you as he frantically tried to get his words together.

“i know it’s all stereotypes and assumptions so i’m— i’m sorry.”

“it’s alright!” you giggled softly. “i just don’t want you or anyone to get the wrong impression of me because of those things is all…”

your eyebrows pinched in thought, and he quickly shook his head.

“i’ve never!” he reached and placed a hand on your shoulder, your cheeks growing hot as he did so. “i’ve never gotten the wrong impression of you…”

“no?”

“no.”

you peered up at him. “what do you think of me then?”

“what do i—” he gulped. “what do i think?”

“yeah!”

“i think uh… you’re really nice.” he mumbled. “really nice. to everyone.. to me. doesn’t matter who honestly. and… you’re not afraid to say something if someone is being rude.”

yuta shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he avoided your gaze. “and you’re helpful… you put a lot of care into the things that you do, which are always never for your own benefit but for the benefit of others.”

he froze. “i— i see you around campus! a lot— so…”

your doe eyes were soft and filled with affection and warmth, the weight of his words settling into your mind as if they’ve always belonged there. as if he’s always belonged there.

you wrung your fingers behind your back then and leaned up on your tippy toes.

“you think i’m pretty?”

beautiful.

yuta hadn’t even realized that he had called you that until the moment you mentioned it again, his eyes widening as his wobbly lips tried to form coherent sentences for you.

“well— well who doesn’t...” he squeaked.

“but do you?” you leaned even closer, your cute smile nearly making him want to blurt out that he’s in love with you and that he’s maybe thought about you being the mother of his children from time to time.

“i— i do.” his eyes flickered back to yours. “i do.”

you bit your bottom lip and gleamed, giving into your impulses and reaching up to gently squeeze his flushed cheek.

“you’re so cute yuta…” you murmured, arm falling back to your side and eyes casting over the jukebox again.

and he nearly just about died.

“do you want a little donut?” he asked. “i— i can get it from the back—”

you and yuta spent literally the rest of the night until two in the morning chit chatting, playing various oldies tunes on the jukebox that conspired of mainly elvis presley, and yuta literally feeding you and giving you anything he possibly could just so he could watch the way you beamed at him every time he did— even when at one point you literally begged him that it was okay, your tummy absolutely filled with sugary sweets and drinks.

you even helped yuta close— disinfecting and wiping down all of the tables, sweeping the floors, triple shining the little elvis mural the diner had by the hostess stand, and organizing the menu’s for tomorrow’s shift.

in the midst of you wiping down the last of the big glass windows by the entrance with him, you thought of something.

“oh my god yuta—” your head snapped in his direction, his eyes widening at your sudden outburst.

“what if i work here?”

he stopped.

“work here?”

“yeah!” you nodded vigorously. “with you!”

he bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from screaming. “with me?”

“uh huh!” you chirped sweetly. “i would love to wipe down tables and listen to music with you everyday..”

yuta’s ears went red as he heard your soft voice say something so cute, wanting to literally run into the kitchen to the sink and dunk his face in sink water to cool off his boiling face.

“if that’s okay!” you sputtered. “am i being weird? am i freaking you out—”

“no! no not at all!” the corners of his lips curled, and he smiled, genuinely smiled. a big loving one that made his cheeks hurt with how hard he was doing it, and one that made your heart lightly flutter inside your chest at the way he was looking at you.

“i can talk to my manager.” he spoke gently. “i’m pretty sure he’ll take you.”

you bounced excitedly on your tippy toes, unexpectedly throwing your arms around him and landing a big fat kiss to his cheek.

“thank you thank you!”

yuta kept true to his word and talked to his manager the following day, who barely even had to think about it since he trusted yuta more than his own damn kids, waving him off and giving him the all clear to have you start the coming week.

“look look! do you likkeeyyy?”

you twirled around in your waitress uniform, the frilly pink fabric moving and swaying with every spin you made as he casually tried to bite down on his thumb in stupid restraint.

“it’s great!” he muttered, teeth locked around his thumb still. “you look great y/n.”

“thanks thanks!”

and you hopped over, giving him another quick kiss on the cheek before skipping away to the kitchen, him ecstatic as he’d been wanting another one so fucking badly again since the first time you did it— him biting down even harder on his thumb when you disappeared from view.

“why do you look like you’re about to shit yourself?”

yuta whipped around and saw his other coworker, yuji, the kid who shares shifts with him sometimes and spills everything and anything that comes out of his mouth without thinking twice about it, standing next to him with a clueless face.

yuji then wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. “is it the girl? the pretty one? the one with the big ass—”

“knock it off—” yuta shoved him away lightly and walked off, crouching down behind the bar counter and sorting through piles of rolled up silverware and buffet napkins.

“do you like her? yes or no?” yuji leaned against the edge of the bar.

his cheeks went pink.

“because if not i’m gonna go try y’know—”

yuta scoffed. “yuji you’re a freshman in high school and we’re in college. she’s in college—”

“okay maybe she likes them young? cougar moment?”

yuta looked at him absolutely horrified and bewildered. “you’re fucking insane—”

his reaction and response only made yuji double over in a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath as yuta looked at him with an unamused face.

“i’m kidding! i’m just kidding i know you like her you’ve been red in the face the minute she clocked in—”

“what’s so funny?”

you popped your head in from the kitchen, making yuta jump again and yuji double over laughing like before, you giving yuta an apologetic look.

“i wanna laugh!” you pouted. “what happened? what’s funny?”

“yuta didn’t like the joke i made.” yuji quipped.

“well what was it? maybe i will!” you smiled sweetly.

“i said—”

“don’t say it!”

yuji ducked as yuta threw a kids menu at him.

“yuta has a cru—”

“shut the fuck up!—”

you covered your mouth with your hands in a little fit of giggles, the sound halting yuta mid throw to look at you with wide dreamy eyes— not wanting to miss the way you laughed and the way your nose crinkled with every hiccup.

yuji snickered and he shot him a glare before standing and walking over to where you stood.

“you don’t wanna hear it…” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with a buffet napkin. “it was freaking weird.”

you settled your giggles down and breathed, nodding cutely. “i’ll take your word for it, yu.”

yu.

“eeehh?! look y/n! look at his face!—”

“shut up!”

for the rest of the days and shifts that you spent together, yuta made it his mission to do things for you to hopefully earn him a sweet cheek kiss in return like last time, all while desperately trying to avoid yuji and his big ginormous annoying mouth actively corrupting some of his attempts on purpose.

yuta would try and bring you any kind of pastry he could give away to you without his manager knowing, or make you milkshakes randomly throughout your shifts or small BLT’s during lunch time to feed you, all for the purpose of watching the way you’d smile and hug him gratefully each time, and if he got lucky, a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“i don’t get it.” yuji shook his head during one of your shifts, him shuffling through a movie magazine on his break. “why don’t you just ask her for a kiss on the cheek? hm? i’d bet she’d do it! ooo better yet—” he looked at him with sarcastic laced excitement. “ask her out you little loser.”

yuta’s cheeks were hot as he listened, watching you from the kitchen take orders and scribble them down on a notepad.

“it’s been months yuta. months. i am in agony every day watching you follow her around like a lost puppy even though it’s the funniest thing i’ve ever seen.”

yuta rolled his eyes, but sent him a small sad smile. “can’t do it.”

“why not?” he whined. “she likes you too!”

“because she’s out of my league.” yuta pursed his lips. “and no i don’t think she likes me.”

“oh man—” yuji hunched over the sink, tossing his magazine to the side and gripping the rim in exhaustion. “she kisses your cheeks and hugs you and literally took this job because of you! what more proof do you want?!” he grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “a straight up confession?! a straight up kiss?!”

yuta’s heart accelerated at the thought as he pictured yuji’s words clear in his mind.

would you ever kiss him?… would you ever like him back?

“m—maybe?”

“what about school! do you guys not hang out or talk at school?”

“we do!” yuta perked up, but his shoulders quickly slumped. “we’re in different circles though so it’s always just for a little bit or casually.”

yuji groaned loudly and smacked a hand over his forehead. “it’s useless. you’re on your own man i tried i tried so hard i can’t help you—”

he continued to mutter under his breath as he picked up his backpack and walked out of the kitchen and out of the restaurant, the end of his shift drawing near as yuta laughed to himself over his words.

he appreciated how much yuji cared and how badly he wanted him to succeed, but even though his unrealistic expectations and hopes annoyed him most of the time as he blabbed on to him about them, yuta knew he was just a kid. so he valued it anyways.

“yu!” you spoke from behind the bar, him quickly rubbing his sweaty palms over his pants as he walked out of the kitchen to you.

“i’m so excited for tonight!” you smiled, your giddy little self practically bouncing off the walls in anticipation.

he laughed. “you’re excited to clean?”

“yup yup! i’m excited to clean with you.”

with him.

yuta adored sunday’s because that’s when you were both scheduled to close together on your own— just like the first time you did months ago, back when you weren’t working there yet.

there were no cooks, no yuji, no manager, and no customers. just you and him as you blasted elvis singles on the jukebox and got a sugar high from the ice cream machine as you wiped down tables and dusted off shelves— one time you literally slipping on the checkered tile by the entrance because you forgot you had just mopped the floor, yuta practically jumping over the bar counter to see if you were okay and him absolutely sick and worried over nothing as he showered you with more pastries and sweets to help you feel better.

that sunday night he got a kiss on the cheek.

so as you both bid the last customers a good night and got right to work, yuta considered yuji’s dumb words.

maybe he should just ask?

“if elvis was still alive i would probably sell myself to go see him.”

he let out a shocked laugh. “sell yourself? like prostitution?”

“mhm!” you hummed, wiping down the bar counter. “think about it— his tickets would probably cost like three thousand dollars. where the hell am i gonna get three thousand dollars? i’m broke and in college.”

yuta shook his head, his lips in an amused grin. “anything for elvis.”

“exactly!” you leaned over the counter excitedly, yuta on the other side with pink cheeks and a fuzzy feeling in his heart. “you get it. only you understand me.”

he laughed.

“i think it’d be cool if they brought him back as a hologram and did concerts that way.” yuta suggested.

you gasped incredulously as a hand flew to slap over your mouth. “yu! you little genius! oh my god i have to start pimping myself out now—”

yuta laughed again and shook his head. “don’t do that. we’ll find a way to get in.”

“we?!” you propped yourself up on the counter with your elbows and cupped his hands in yours, him stiffening with wide eyes and wobbly nervous lips. “you wanna go with me?”

“y—yeah.” he stammered. “of— of course…”

you squealed and nodded quickly, seemingly accepting the hypothetical proposal.

but then you settled down a little. your eyelashes slowly fluttering as you stared at him— a slow 50s love song statically murmuring through the jukebox adding to the atmosphere as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

but this time it was different.

it wasn’t quick and cutesy and one that yuta barely had time to bask over before you pranced away. it was slow, tender, and yuta could feel the way your soft lips touched his skin and left behind a burn as he let his eyes close at the blissful gentle feeling, him finally able to relish in the rarity of it before you slightly began pulling away, eyes twinkling.

“…do you still think i’m pretty?” you whispered.

he swallowed thickly, your face so close he could feel your breath fanning across his lips.

“i do.” he whispered back, eyes locked on yours. “very much so.”

you bit your bottom lip as you smiled, ever so slightly leaning closer and closer to him as your lips nearly brushed against—

riinnggg!

you quickly pulled away and ran to the back to answer the phone, leaving yuta sitting there swooning and nearly collapsing on the table, his hands cold from not being encased in your own soft hands anymore.

but most of all… leaving him confused. he didn’t know why you were leaning in like that.

“i’m sorry we’re closed for the day!… uh huh… we open at eight am tomorrow if—”

yuta could still feel the blaze your lips left behind on his cheek as you spoke on the phone, his hands coming up to rub his eyes as he tried to get his head back down from the clouds and simmer down the beating of his heart.

“someone wanted to come in right now!” you exclaimed, coming back over to your previous spot.

he furrowed his eyebrows. “right now? are you serious? it’s—” he spun around on the barstool and turned his head to the coca cola themed vintage clock on the wall. “it’s nearly twelve am?”

“i know!” you breathed out. “we closed four hours ago.”

“four?!—”

it dawned on the both of you how long you had been inside the diner, fully convinced it would’ve been longer if you hadn’t noticed.

so as the two of you mutually agreed to finish up and gather your things— the jukebox switched to an iconic elvis presley slow love song as you were just about halfway through the entrance double doors, eyes snapping to each other’s.

“aw i love this one…” you spoke softly, a little whine seeping through.

a small close lipped smile spread across his face. “i love this one too.”

“do you wanna—” you stopped.

his eyebrows pinched. “do i wanna what?”

“do you wanna… dance with meee?” you dragged out cutely, slightly bouncing on your toes.

“dance?” his eyes widened. “i— i don’t know how—”

“s’okay! i’ll teach you!”

you quickly pulled his hand and dragged him out, opening one door and jamming a door stopper underneath it so the music of the jukebox leaked out of the diner and through the empty street.

the pavement was a little wet from the morning rain as you took his hand again and pulled him to the middle of the dead empty street, the bottom of your shoes tapping and splashing a little with each tiny puddle you stepped in.

elvis presley’s voice softly hummed through the air, but it was loud and clear to the both of you as you gently took yuta’s hands and set them around your waist, his heart fucking palpitating and feeling like he was about to have a stroke when you wrung your arms over his neck and showed him that pretty smile he loved so much.

you both slowly stepped side to side, the air crispy and cold as your breath’s blew out foggy misty clouds due to the condensation, both of your noses and cheeks flushing red and buzzing warmly as you continued to slow dance— yuta’s grip slowly tightening until he was practically hugging you flush against his body.

out of anything that could possibly happen to yuta in his life, he wanted to remember this moment specifically— with you, dancing in the middle of the street listening to the man that essentially brought you both together in the first place, your beautiful beautiful face looking at him like he was the most important thing in your life… yuta wanting so badly for that to come true as he basked in this little made up scenario in his head that you were already his.

“yu…” you murmured.

he didn’t trust his voice.

“hm?”

“why haven’t you kissed me yet.”

what?

“kissed… you?”

“yeah..” you whispered, your bodies swaying. “don’t you like me?”

yuta let out a shaky breath. “i— i mean yeah… who doesn’t?”

your smile faltered. “i’m talking about you though…”

“oh. well you know i do. i’m sure a lot of other guys would want to kiss you.”

the song drawled to a gradual close and the jukebox reset, you both no longer swaying but still holding on to each other.

your eyes drifted to the side. “other guys?”

he pursed his lips, not really liking the thought of you kissing guys, but answering your question anyways. “yeah… other guys.”

his emphasis on other guys and not on himself left a bad taste in your mouth.

your eyes narrowed in confusion as you looked up at him, yuta a little shocked at your sad expression.

did he say something wrong?

“i thought—” you shook your head softly. “i thought you…?”

“…thought me what?” he cocked his head to the side, his genuine confusion solidifying his rejection in your eyes.

“i— i thought—”

your hands slipped from his shoulders and you stepped back, yuta sadly complying and letting his arms open and fall beside him as you rapidly blinked back tears, his eyes slowly widening once he caught it.

“hey— are you okay? what’s wrong?”

yuta went and reached for you, you backing away in response as you shook your head and gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes at all.

“why are you crying? did i say something mean? i’m sorry—”

“no no i’m fine.” your voice was quiet and sad. “i think we should go home now.”

his shoulders deflated.

“are you sure? we— we usually hang out until at least one in the morning on sunday’s…”

you walked past him and towards the double doors of the diner, letting your tears slip in secret as you picked up your school bag and swung it over your shoulder, quickly wiping your cheeks before picking up his bag and giving it to him.

yuta thanked you and hoisted his backpack up on himself, ushering you gently to step to the side as he pulled the door stopper from beneath and placed it in its corresponding place by the entrance, letting the door close on its own before pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jacket and locking the diner up.

he did all of this— completely unaware to the way you were trying to quiet down your sniffles behind him.

you were so sure he liked you back… now you just felt a little stupid.

of course— the one genuine guy you came across that you actually liked out of all the others that you’ve met, one that wasn’t like the rest and was sweet and funny and caring and so so attentive of you… didn’t like you back.

the one thing you truly truly wanted, you simply couldn’t have— you walking ahead of yuta in silence through the parking lot with your arms crossed as you wondered if the way he treated you was literally just because that’s how he was as a person.

a good person at that. way too good for this world, and way too good for you.

yuta didn’t know why you were so quiet, his chest a bit achy at the absence of your usual cheerful voice.

when you reached your cars, you barely even bid him a proper goodbye like you always did before you got in your car and sped away, leaving a perplexed yuta standing alone in the parking lot— eyebrows pinched together in clueless concern.

you were acting so weird, and you unfortunately continued to do so for the following week.

the next time you came into the diner (which was literally the next day), yuta was taken aback by how bloodshot and sunken your eyes were when you came in for your shift, not saying a single peep to yuji and him when you walked through the kitchen or through the bar counter like you usually did… and it was weird.

through the bustling of the busy restaurant, it was oddly quiet to the two boys, simply because you weren’t your usual boastful self.

and you were hardly talking to yuta either… which pained him the most. you kept it strictly casual— as if you weren’t completely tied together every fucking day for almost a year now, you just completely casual about your day and about the things you had to do whenever he asked you, your one word dry responses sending him through the worst confusing and sadistic loop of his life.

but it wasn’t casual at all. nothing about you was casual. so why were you acting like this? did you finally maybe open your eyes and realize yuta was a big fat nobody who didn’t belong with a girl like you?

yuta nearly cried at the thought. perhaps you had finally realized that.

but how fucking cruel was it that he lived a year of love and beauty and everything that was just you, getting a taste of what it would be like to live a life where you thought of him as something really special and a life where you wanted to basically do everything with him— only to be ripped away from him overnight? with no explanation?

by wednesday, yuta was dead inside.

you didn’t seem to want to do anything with him anymore like before. you didn’t excitedly jump and squeal and bounce on your little toes when it was time for the both of you to clean during your shift or restock the ice cream machine. you didn’t talk to him about elvis anymore or about another ludicrous idea on how to resurrect him from the dead— you didn’t smile like you used to whenever he tried to give you a small pastry, actually rejecting it instead, and you didn’t kiss his cheeks anymore.

by friday, yuji was fed the fuck up.

“what the fuck did you do?!” he whispered harshly at him from the bar, you somewhere in the diner taking orders. “that woman is like a walking zombie. her eyes have been red like red since monday, and she’s not yapping about elvis anymore.”

yuta leaned against the counter with a flat palm to his forehead in worry, feeling like he was gonna be fucking sick over you.

“i— i don’t know.” he stuttered. “i truly don’t know i don’t know what i said that’s making her act like that.”

“okay run it back for me run it back.” he placed both hands on his shoulders and roughly pulled yuta to face him. “explain to me again what happened on sunday.”

“we were closing…”

“uh huh?”

“she wanted to slow dance in the street so we did…”

“okay cute i love that part okay keep going..?”

“and then she asked why haven’t i kissed her—“

“she what?!” yuji choked, “you didn’t tell me this part! you fucking jumped to the parking lot!”

“my bad…” yuta muttered.

“shit— whatever keep going.”

“she also said that she thought i liked her and i said who doesn’t… and then i told her i was sure other guys would want to kiss her.”

“you said other guys?”

yuta’s eyebrows pinched. “yeah?”

“you. said…” yuji repeatedly slowly. “other. guys.”

“yes i did—”

“oh you’re done.” he rapidly shook his head. “i can’t help you i’ve done all i can you’re my buddy and i love you but i cannot take this anymore—”

“woah woah slow the fuck down—” he narrowed his eyes. “what’s so bad about what i said?”

“you rejected her.”

“what? no i didn’t—”

“yes!” yuji nodded frantically. “yes you did you freaking dingus! yuta she wanted a kiss from you a kiss! she literally said ‘when are you going to kiss me!’”

“i thought she was joking about that?” he answered softly.

“i might die early if you don’t figure this out right now.” yuji spat. “when you said other guys, she took it as you saying you’re sure other guys would want to kiss her and not you! do you understand what i’m trying to say?!”

yuta stayed silent.

“you said ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you,’ which is you indirectly saying ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you but not me.’ emphasis on others—”

“holy fucking shit.”

why was yuji kind of smart?

“oh thank god!” yuji breathed out, throwing his hands up in the air before clasping them together and looking up at the ceiling, his eyes screwed shut as he shook his interlocked hands and prayed.

“thank you! thank you elvis presley for finally making him see what a dumbass he’s been this entire year especially this moment your music has never been better—”

yuta shoved his fingers through his hair, his eyes bulging open. “holy fucking shit what the fuck did i do?!”

you walked past the bar just then and they both shot their arms down and tried to appear as nonchalant as humanly possible, you not even sparing them a glance as you walked over to the kitchen and disappeared from view.

“oh you have got to fix this.”

yuta spent the rest of the week trying to devise a plan to ease into the situation and have a conversation with you about it, but doing it fucking poorly as he miserably couldn’t come up with anything and yuji having even worse ideas— going as far as to suggesting he kidnaps you and takes you to elvis presley’s home in graceland and apologize there, yuji calling it a ‘grand gesture.’

by sunday, yuta was grasping at straws.

you slowly looked up from the bar as you saw a little sprinkled donut pastry slide across from the other side, your stinging eyes locking with yuta’s and feeling an immediate colossal pang through your chest when you saw him.

“you um—” yuta sighed softly through his nose. “you haven’t had a donut from here in a while…”

“oh.” your eyes stayed glued to the pastry. “thank you but i’m alright. i’m not that hungry right now.”

yuta bit his tongue. “please.”

he wasn’t pleading for you to eat the damn donut, but he pathetically couldn’t get the words out properly either.

“i don’t want it i’m okay.”

“why not?” he pushed. “you love donuts. you haven’t accepted my milkshakes either and you love those too.”

“i got sick of them.”

yuta froze.

you sounded like a completely different person at the moment, and yuta knew that your words held an entirely different meaning to them— his heart literally throwing up all over his insides in distress.

it was near closing time, the last pair of customers just about finishing up their meal as you both stared solemnly at the uneaten donut.

“are you—” yuta cleared his throat. “are you mad at me?”

the customers called you over then, and you quickly pushed yourself off from the edge and walked over as yuta heard your kind customer service voice from somewhere in the diner finalizing the bill for them, the bell above the door chiming as they left— you coming back around to stand back on the other side of the bar.

“sorry what did—”

“are you mad at me.”

you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “no. why would i be mad?”

“are you upset with me?”

you hummed a no.

yuta wanted to rip his hair out at the fact that he couldn’t fucking think of what to say to you— not wanting to accidentally say something that could offend you like last time without him even knowing, as he didn’t trust his mouth for shit.

“you haven’t looked okay since last sunday.” he murmured. “you don’t look happy around me anymore.”

you pulled your lips into a thin line and pressed hard, already feeling tears threatening to spill.

“it’s just school. it’s tough at the moment.” you mumbled.

“you’re lying.”

you slightly snorted. “okay thanks.”

“no— fuck i did it again.” he screwed his eyes shut. “i know you’re upset with me and i know you’re mad at me. you don’t talk to me as much, you don’t— you don’t take any of the sweets and drinks i give you when you always do, and you refuse to talk to me about elvis.”

“it’s school yuta i don’t know what else to tell you.”

he groaned and pushed himself off the bar, swiftly making his way around the counter to stand right in front of you as your pretty red eyes widened, your body immediately fidgeting.

“please… i miss you.” he mumbled, and your bottom lip started to wobble. “i miss when you wanted me around.”

“i— i do want you around.” you said, so so softly he could barely hear you.

“then please tell me what you’re feeling.”

you brought your hands up and pressed your fingers into your eyes, trying your absolute hardest to keep the tears inside as your body trembled.

“it’s all me it’s not you so— so please don’t worry about it it’s school and— and—”

“i love you.”

you paused.

yuta shakily pried your fingers away from your eyes, holding them in his hands as silent tears escaped down your cheeks.

you shook your head. “no you don’t. you’re just saying that—”

“i love you.”

“stop it you’re being mean i don’t need you to tell me you love me because you feel bad for me—”

you tried to tear your hands away but his grip only tightened as he shook his head and wrung you in, pressing your hands flat over his heart and holding them there as he leaned and pushed his lips to yours, the taste and feeling of you complete fucking paradise as he hoped that the weight of his lips were conveying how much he truly fucking loved you, how much he truly needed you in his life and how much he wanted you to treat him like he was something to you again.

he was tired of you carrying around the missing half of him, but not because he wanted you to give it back.

he wanted you to keep it. he wanted you to keep it forever and ever and not let it dangle over ineptly like you’d done for the past week. he wanted you to kiss it and shove it next to your heart and keep it there snug where it belonged until the day that he died.

the jukebox murmured another soft 50s tune, you slowly but surely letting your tense shoulders relax as you allowed your lips to move against his, your heart screaming and zooming through your bones at the fact that this man was kissing you like you’d wanted and dreamed for him to do so badly for the past year.

you both slowly pulled away with your lips quietly smacking apart, your stunning face finally looking at him the way you always did, the way you used to, even if it was a little timid still.

“are you lying?” you murmured.

his eyes softened as he gently shook his head.

“absolutely not.”

“but you rejected me.”

he sighed through his nose, his hands still pressing yours over his heart as you felt it beat rapidly under your palms.

“i— i didn’t mean to. i swear to god i didn’t mean to.” he gently dropped his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “i was being stupid and worded everything wrong. but— but i’m telling you now that i wanted to kiss you… so fucking bad. you’re too pretty for me so i honestly thought i just didn’t stand a chance…”

you couldn’t believe it.

“i don’t want other guys to kiss you.” he continued. “not at all… just me.”

“just you?” you murmured, and he nodded against your forehead.

“just me.” he propped his chin on the top of your head. “i’m sorry i hurt you and made you cry.”

“no yu…” you spoke gently. “i’m sorry too. and i’m sorry i said i was sick of the sweets you give me… i was lying i love them.”

he chuckled softly.

“it’s okay… i know.” yuta gently caressed your fingers with his thumbs. “but i love you pretty.”

“i love you.” you whispered, and you slid your hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him down in a warm embrace as he copied and pulled your body to his so so tightly, your hearts beating in time with one another as he felt his fingertips go numb at your confession, kissing your soft little cheeks over and over and over again until he got giggles out of you.

yuta loved sunday’s… and so did you.

and when he asked you to be his girlfriend that same night while standing over the jukebox, staring at the elvis presley song selection like you’d done many times together before in the past, yuta for the first time realized that he hadn’t felt alone since the moment you came into the diner with your mean friends— finding himself actually thanking them in his head for that, realizing that if they hadn’t then you probably would’ve left with them and he would’ve never gotten the chance to speak to you that night.

the next time you both came into work, you back to your usual jumpy self as you took every pastry that yuta gave you again and babbled about elvis and how you were gonna spend your hypothetical prostitution money on a flight to memphis to see his grave and pay your respects, yuji was elated.

“what happened?! you have to tell me what happened come on you can’t keep it from me i’m just a boy—”

you skipped into the kitchen then and smoothly walked in between them, pressing a gentle cute peck to yuta’s lips before grabbing what you needed from the back and walking back out, yuji’s mouth flinging open and his jaw hitting the fucking floor.

“how— what— when— where—”

you stepped back in after a second and bounded over next to yuta, his eyes soft as he watched you lean your head on his shoulder.

“what?” you asked. “what’s wrong yuji?”

“oh god no!” he wailed, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes in agony. “i thought this is what i wanted but it’s not! i want a kiss like that man!”

he flew to his knees in front of you and took your hand in his. “y/n why can’t you just wait for me please?! wait five years you’re so pretty i won’t confuse you like this dingbat and i’ll give you better sweets and milkshakes than him please!—”

yuta took your hand and slapped yuji’s away. “you freak stand up man the floor is dirty—”

“i need a popular gorgeous girlfriend like you yuta! how could you do this?! i thought we were brothers?! what spell did you cast?! have you ever learned jujutsu?! what have i done!—”

your manager popped his head into the kitchen and you all stiffened.

“yuji why are you crying? everyone outside can hear you, kid.”

yuji flew to his feet and shook his head. “m’not crying sir. everything is fine just fine and dandy sir.”

“okay… well can you check on your tables? leave yuta and y/n to work.”

“yes sir i’ll check on them sir.”

your manager nodded, muttering something about today’s generation as he left and went back inside his office, yuji walking out of the kitchen shortly after with his head down as you both tried your hardest to keep your laughter in, hands tightly clasped over your mouths and silently snickering to keep yuji from hearing it on the other side.

“p—poor him.” you heaved, a hand over your chest. “i hope— i hope he finds his ‘popular girlfriend’ when he’s older.”

“i wish her luck.” he muttered, and your hand slapped back over your mouth again as you burst into another fit of giggles alongside him.

yuta sheepishly outstretched his arms for you once you both settled down, you perking up excitedly with a cutesy little grin as you skipped into them, your arms wrapping snug around his torso as he brought his around your shoulders and squeezed, earning a tiny squeak from you that made him laugh.

he hoped to god he wasn’t dreaming.

yuta started shifting his weight from one to the other, gently moving and swaying you side to side in the kitchen as you giggled and let him lead you like that.

“you slow dancing yu?” you murmured softly, head coming up to give him a kiss on the cheek as he blushed.

“yeah..” he hummed. “i like it when we do.”

“i do too yu… it’s like our little thing! we’re so vintage.”

he snorted, and a charming beautiful smile spread across your face— one that made him wonder how he ever managed to land you when all he did was wait tables and stutter foolishly and wasn’t anyone particularly special like you were.

but you. you were everything. everything and way fucking more as you looked at him like he built the diner himself brick by brick for reasons he still couldn’t understand why.

yuta spoke after a moment.

“…what do you think of me?” he murmured suddenly, cheek mushing up against the side of your head as your brows furrowed.

“what do i think of you?” you asked, your perplexed face slowly shifting to one of realization as it dawned on you how yuta was reiterating your words to him from when you first met.

he grinned. “yeah.”

you pulled back to face him.

“i think you’re kind… you always have been even when i didn’t deserve it.”

his jaw dropped. “what? didn’t deserve it?—”

“i’m not finished!” you pouted, and he playfully rolled his eyes as he shut his lips.

“you’re too good to me yu…” you sighed a little. “you’re so helpful and selfless, and even when things piss you off you still take the time to appreciate them… like yuji.”

you both snickered then, and yuta brought his head down and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“i love the way you love, yuta. i love the way you love me and take care of me and always feed me…” you giggled. “without me ever having to ask.”

you felt his arms tighten around you.

“don’t ever think that you aren’t special to me or anyone or i’ll kill you and go to graceland without you.”

he laughed loudly in your neck and pulled back, half lidded ditzy loving eyes staring back as he leaned in and kissed you— gentle and delicate, his hands coming up to cup your warm cheeks.

“jesus man table nine would not stop asking me for— oh god no!”

you and yuta jumped apart, yuji immediately wailing and crying again as he flung himself to the floor on his knees.

“really?! in my kitchen?! in front of my face?! how cruel can you be yuta?! y/n can you maybe give me a ki—”

yuta leaned down and smacked him upside the head.

“owwwuhh! what’s wrong with just one little kiss man?!—”

“cut. it. out!—”

and just like always, the week came and went, sunday fast approaching as the day eventually came to close the diner together like lovely clockwork— wiping down tables and sweeping the floors, organizing the menu’s and restocking the crayons for the little kids, gulping down milkshakes with yuta like water as you worked…

but most importantly— sharing long kisses in between each sweeping rotation, kissing and pinching his cheeks repeatedly whenever he asked or did literally anything, and slow dancing to the same 50s love song that played when you first tried to kiss him at the bar that one night, swaying together in a silly way and giggling whenever you’d both nearly topple over to the floor— yuta beaming and lovesick as he looked down at your gorgeous smile and your gorgeous face… it gleaming with so much purpose, so much pure love and importance and value for him as you danced—

that yuta decided he wanted you to keep the other remaining half of him too.

forever.

this! is the song that was playing when reader was about to give yuta a kissy kissy on the bar counter, and again at the end if you’re curious :3 it was playing when i wrote it and it literally fit so well and lifted my entire body and spirit and i felt like i was THERE MAN! <333

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs

(HATE when tumblr doesn’t let me tag some of yall i don’t know why it does that!!)

[candy69gurl]

MISSING MOM? NAH

PAIRING Step dad!Gojo Satoru x fem!reader, Step dad!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader, Step dad!Nanami Kento x fem!reader, Step dad!Geto Suguru x fem!reader, Step dad!Sukuna x fem!reader, Step dad!Shiu Kong x fem!reader, Step dad!Hiromi Higuruma x fem!reader, Step dad!Kamo Choso x fem!reader [seperate]

SYNOPSIS You've been missing your mum on Mother's Day, but stepdad is here to help you feel better. So he offers you his titties to suck on some consolation

WARNING stepcest, pre-established relationship, comfort, m!nipple sucking biting pinching, m!cumming in pants tits & hands, f!nipple playing and sucking, dry humping, handjob, reader asking for milk (Heian Sukuna lol), m!masturbation, m!overstimulation

NOTE this one's requested by my dear @imhellakawai.. We're just girls (with daddy issues) ... I laughed a lot while writing this.. Some people may find the contents unpleasant. Simply block and move on; please do not make disparaging remarks about me or report my post; if you do, prepare to get trolled by my moots. Please read the warnings and do not do this at home (duh).

◈ SATORU GOJO

Gojo enters the house. He's just returned from a mission. A mission on Mother's Day, of all days, had been a particularly cruel twist of fate. But it's not the praise or adrenaline that he's met with. Instead, the sound of sobbing fills the room as you pounce on him, your cries tearing at his heart..

"Hey, hey, baby," he says softly, kneeling in front of you. He gathers you into his arms, hugging you close. "It's okay, I'm here now."

You cling to him, the sadness and longing for your mother clear in your voice. "I miss mommmmmmmmm, pls daddy .. I need mommy," you wail, your body shaking with sobs.

He picks you up, cradling you in his arms as he blindly stumbles through the house, murmuring comforting words. "I know, I know, baby. It's tough without her. But I'm here for you, okay? I'll always be here for you."

Once he reaches your room, he closes the door behind him, enveloping you both in privacy and quiet. He lays you gently down onto your bed, following after you to sit beside you.

His hand reaches out, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek, wiping away the tears that continue to slip down. "You don't have to be sad," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "You have me. I'll be here for you, every step of the way."

Knowing that he can't replace your mother, Gojo draws strength from the idea that he can be there for you in his own way. He can't change the past, but he can make the present and future as comforting as possible.

Gojo scoots over next to you on the bed, gently laying you down. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his body, feeling your warmth and softness against him.

His heart aches for you, knowing how much you miss your mother. He kisses the top of your head, whispering softly, "I'll take you to your favorite restaurant tomorrow, promise baby. I'll spend the whole day with you. We'll go to the park, maybe take a walk through the city, and have as much fun as we can."

His voice is soothing, his promise of tomorrow's happiness a balm for your wounded heart. You start to relax in his arms, the weight of your sorrow lightening as he whispers sweet things in your ear.

"Sleep now, baby," he says, his hand gently stroking your hair. "I'll be right here."

Gojo drifts off to sleep, exhausted from his mission and the emotional weight of the day. He's still wearing his uniform, which now seems to serve as a barrier between him and the comfort of sleep.

In the middle of the night, your eyes flutter open, your sleep disturbed by the sight of Gojo, still and serene, his features soft in slumber. A pang of love and tenderness fills you, making you want to make sure he's as comfortable as possible.

Quietly, you reach out, your fingers working at the buttons of his uniform, unfastening it bit by bit. You're careful not to disturb him, your movements gentle and calculated. Once you've freed him from the confines of the uniform, leaving him in just his shirt and trousers.

You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in deep, the scent of him enveloping you. Your hands slip under the hem of his shirt, resting on his skin. They travel up his neck, then down to his chest, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles.

The sensation of his skin under your touch ignites something within you, a desire to explore, to connect. You unbutton his shirt, revealing his firm chest. You glance up at him, gauging his sleep. He's still deeply unconscious.

With a newfound bravery, you lean forward, your tongue darting out to trace the curve of one of his nipples. The sensation is electric, a shiver running down your spine. You close your lips around it, sucking gently, your tongue teasing it.

His hand comes up, wrapping around the back of your head, pulling you closer. His fingers thread through your hair, a soft moan escaping his lips. His other hand slides down your back, gripping your hip firmly.

Gojo's reaction spurs you on, your mouth traveling between his nipples, your tongue playing with them. You're lost in the sensations, the taste of him, the warmth of his skin. You're learning, but more than that, you're basking in the intimacy of the moment.

Gojo suddenly bursts into laughter, the sound filling the room. "Baby, what are you trying to do?" he says, the amusement in his voice apparent.

You pull back, flustered, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment. You realize he's awake now, and you hadn't even noticed. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.." Your voice trails off, unsure how to explain your actions.

Gojo's expression softens, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Baby, you've been missing mommy so bad that sucking on daddy's nipples is making you feel better?" He doesn't scold you for what you've done, for taking matters into your own hands. Instead, he pulls you back against his chest, his tone gentler now.

"Go on," he murmurs, his fingers tangling in your hair. "I'm liking it." He presses your face against his chest, encouraging you to continue. The approval in his voice, the warmth of his body, it calms the storm within you, reassuring you that you're not in trouble, that he's happy to share this intimate moment with you.

You resume your actions, your lips and tongue worshiping Gojo's nipples. Your eyes remain locked on his face, watching in the dim light as his cheeks flush with color, his pink petite nipples hardening beneath your touch. Your gaze drops, noticing his bulge against his pants, the outline of his erection straining against the fabric.

As your mouth works on his nipples, his hands reach down, rubbing at himself through his pants. You notice the way he's whimpering, twitching under your ministrations. You seize the moment, pushing him onto his back before climbing on top of him. Your hips grind against his hardening member, your mouth still busy on his nipple.

Gojo whimpers, trying to tell you to slow down, but you take it as encouragement, sucking even harder. Your tongue flicks over his nipple, and you gently nibble at it. You switch to the other nipple, repeating the motions, teasing him.

He tries to pry you off with his hands, gripping your hair gently, but you're determined, not letting him stop you. You pinch both nipples, twisting them between your fingers. Gojo arches his back, cumming through his pants, the evidence dampening the fabric.

Gojo gasps, his eyes wide, "Oh my, what a bad girl you are." Despite the teasing tone, there's an underlying sense of pride, of admiration, in his voice.

You purr, satisfied with the reaction you've elicited. You scoot closer to him, pressing kisses to his cheeks before snuggling into his arms. The warmth of his body envelops you, the rhythm of his breaths lulling you into a peaceful slumber. This time, you sleep soundly in his embrace, the ache in your heart starting to fade away.

◈ TOJI FUSHIGURO

The day stretches on, your sadness a tangible weight. Mother's Day is a cruel reminder of the loss that haunts you, the constant ache palpable as you sit on the couch, your phone providing a window to the world of mother-daughter relationships.

Toji notices your distress, the wetness on your cheeks and the tremble in your shoulders, but he remains silent, giving you space while he goes about his own business. It isn't until you let out a soft whimper that he can't bear your pain any longer.

"Come on ya, don't be a cry-baby now," he says gently, his voice a gentle reprimand. "You're much older." His tone is laced with affection, the concern evident in his eyes.

You cover your face with your arms, the humiliation of being seen in such a vulnerable state bubbling up inside you. "I'm sorry," you mumble, trying to hide your shame.

Toji approaches, his large frame casting a shadow over you as he sits down next to you. He slides an arm under your neck, pulling you onto his thighs, your head resting on his lap. His hand starts to work its way through your hair, a comforting and gentle gesture.

"It's okay," he reassures you, his thumb stroking your temple. "It's normal to miss her. I miss her too." His words are a balm, his touch soothing as you allow yourself to be consoled, the weight of the day slowly lifting.

Toji gently removes your hands from your face, taking the opportunity to wipe away the tears that cling to your eyes. His gaze is filled with compassion, the understanding in his eyes a testament to his own grief.

Without warning, you pull his head towards you, your lips capturing his in a tender kiss. Toji is caught off guard at first, but he returns the gesture, the comfort of human connection a balm for your sorrow.

You move from kissing his lips to the scar near his lips, your lips lingering on the familiar mark. When your sobbing subsides, you pull away from him, the desire for retribution sparking within you.

"You called me a cry-baby!" you retort, your voice tinged with indignation. In a sudden burst of energy, you pounce on Toji, straddling him on the couch. Your hands reach for his sides, your fingers dancing in a feeble attempt to tickle him.

Toji smirks, his hands wrapped around your waist, thwarting your efforts to tickle him. "It's true, you are a baby," he teases, the mocking light in his eyes intensifying.

Determined to make him pay for his mockery, you shift your focus to his chest, your teeth finding purchase on his nipple through his black tshirt. The action is bold, the bite hard enough to leave a mark.

Surprisingly, instead of the expected yelp, Toji lets out a low moan, the sound hanging in the air between you. The unexpected reaction leaves both of you momentarily stunned, the implications of your actions heavy in the room.

Toji releases his grip on you, clearing his throat awkwardly. You look at him, confusion clouding your expression, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

With a swift motion, you raise his tshirt, exposing his chest, and immediately set about sucking on his nipples. His eyes widen, his composure slipping a little at the sudden, intense attention you're lavishing on him.

Despite his attempts at restraint, Toji's arousal is evident, his erection straining against the confines of his pants. The way you tease him, alternating between sucking and licking his nipples, is tantalizing, making it increasingly difficult for him to ignore your advances.

Then, without warning, you take it a step further. Your teeth bite down on his nipple, following it up with a painful pinch. The resulting sound that escapes Toji's lips is a mixture of pain and pleasure.

The line between what's acceptable and inappropriate has been crossed, and Toji can no longer hold back. His hands grab you, forcefully pulling you off his chest and forcing you onto your back. Without hesitation, he lifts your shirt, exposing your sensitive breasts.

"Quit, brat. Now it's time for payback," he growls, his voice laced with a mix of dominance and desire. His mouth descends on your nipple, his tongue flicking against the hardened nub while his hand reaches for his pants, freeing his erection.

He strokes himself leisurely, his gaze never leaving your flushed face as he continues to suck on your nipples.

You moan softly, the sensations coursing through you leaving you breathless. You attempt to pull him away, but Toji remains resolute, his mouth firmly latched onto your nipple.

As his hand works his cock in tandem with his mouth on your chest, the tension between you builds. Your moans grow more desperate, the pleasure-pain of his actions leaving you both bewildered and intoxicated.

Finally, the dam breaks. Toji lets out a shuddered groan, his seed spilling onto your chest. The warmth coats your skin, the result of your actions etched on your body.

He releases hsi grip on your body, his breathing heavy, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of satisfaction and awe. The intimacy of the act is undeniable, the world beyond the confines of the room fading into insignificance.

You stare at the mess he's left on your tits, the implications of your actions sinking in. The dynamic between the two of you has shifted, the boundaries you've pushed a testament to the newfound uncharted territory you now occupy.

You sigh heavily, the weight of your grief bearing down on you once more. "Ghhh, I miss mom," you say again, your voice tinged with bitterness.

Toji lets out a frustrated sound, his hand coming up to slap his forehead. "For the love of God, shut up," he groans, his tone laced with exasperation.

◈ NANAMI KENTO

You tiptoe into Nanami's room, your eyes red and puffy from crying. He looks up from his book, concern etched on his face, as he notices your state. He sets the book aside, rushing to your side. Nanami kneels before you, placing a hand on your knee, "Honey, sweetheart, why are you crying?"

Your voice shaky, you tell him. "Today's Mother's Day, and I miss mom." Tears stream down your cheeks once more, the pain of missing your mother overwhelming you.

Nanami's eyes soften, and he feels a pang of sadness for your loss. "Come here, sweetheart. Tonight, you're sleeping with me. We can cuddle the pain away." He helps you up, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close.

You cling to him, grateful for the comfort he offers. Nanami leads you to the bed, gently laying you down. He adjusts the covers, tucking you in before climbing in beside you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling safe and comforted by his presence.

Nanami begins to hum a soft tune, caressing your hair gently. The rhythmic motion lulls you into a sense of calm, your sobs subsiding. You nuzzle closer, enjoying the warmth and security his embrace provides. As the night wears on, his reassuring touch and the sound of his heartbeat slowly lull you to sleep, your heart heavy, but not quite as broken.

Feeling safe and snuggled against Nanami, you begin to drift off to sleep. Your eyes flutter closed, but something catches your attention. As you lay against Nanami's chest, you notice that his shirt buttons are ajar, and his nipples are exposed.

A shiver runs down your spine as your mind wanders what if I- and without a moment's hesitation, you lunge forward, getting on top of him. You wrap your lips around one of his nipples, sucking gently. Your tongue flicks against it, and a soft moan escapes your lips.

Nanami's grip on you tightens, momentarily stunned by your sudden, bold action. His brow furrows, but he allows you to continue for a few moments before whispering, "Do you miss mommy this bad?"

You pause, unsure of how to respond, but the wanton desire you feel doesn't abate. You nuzzle against him, smiling into his chest before continuing your play with his nipple.

Nanami's hands travel to your hair, gripping it tightly as he lets out an involuntary moan. "Gosh… stop now, tis' too much," he commands, his voice thick with desire.

You ignore his plea, unbuttoning more of his shirt to expose the other nipple. You switch to that one, sucking it hungrily as Nanami's moans grow louder. His breathing quickens, and you can feel the need building in him.

"Sweetheart, I c-can't anymore," he begs, the desperation in his voice unmistakable. You look up at his face, smiling devilishly as you see the strain in his pants. You realize he's on the verge of losing control, and he frees his cock, stroking it gently as you continue to suck his nipple.

Nanami's moans grow louder, and his breathing becomes more erratic. You can feel the tension in his body, and he finally cums, moaning as he strokes himself. You continue sucking even after his orgasm subsides, enjoying the reactions you've elicited.

Nanami pries you off this time, his hands firmly but gently removing your mouth from his nipple. "What the hell were you doing?" he asks, a mixture of amusement, surprise, and arousal in his voice. You look up at him, your eyes full of childish innocence, before planting a kiss on his nose.

You giggle, snuggling close to him once more, your arms wrapping around him. You drift off to sleep, nestled against his body, content in the afterglow of invasion of his nipples.

◈ GETO SUGURU

The day's significance weighs heavy on your heart, a constant reminder of the void left by your mother's absence. You resist the urge to break down in tears, not wanting to burden Suguru with your sorrows.

Yet, as the day progresses, the weight of your emotions becomes too much to bear. Suguru notices the change in your demeanor, his keen senses picking up on your distress.

Confronting you, he demands an explanation for your unsettled state, refusing to be brushed off. You hesitate, unsure of how he'll react. But in the end, the yearning to share your feelings with someone overwhelms your fear.

Your voice wavers as you confess your longing for your mother. The confession hangs heavily between you, the vulnerability on display a stark contrast to the usual power dynamic.

To your surprise, Suguru doesn't scoff or mock you. Instead, his laughter is tinged with sympathy, a rare display of emotion from him.

"It's alright, Y/N," he says, gently guiding you into his embrace. "I know what it's like to miss someone. Even sorcerers lose their loved ones."

His arms wrap around you, comforting you in a way that is both unexpected and welcome. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart meld with the rhythm of your own, creating a temporary haven from the world.

The tears you've been holding back finally spill over, the weight of your sorrows lightening with each drop. In this moment, your monkey status ceases to matter, and you're simply the non-sorcerer girl he loves the most.

As tears stream down your face, your fingers tighten around his gojogesa. When you finally glance up, you're met with Geto's unexpectedly kind gaze. "You know.. I'm a bit like your mother too, don't you think?" he gently suggests. You shake your head, unable to comprehend. He then adopts a playful pout, asking, "Why do you need your mother when you have me?"

You wipe your tears, your fingers leaving damp trails across your face. Caught off guard by the kindness in Suguru's eyes, you hesitate before responding.

Your thoughts whirl, searching for an answer to his question. "I don't know," you admit, your voice small and unsure. "It's just..." Your words trail off, unable to articulate the feelings that bind you to your mother.

Suguru pouts, a childish expression that softens the severity of his features. His gaze remains fixed on you, waiting for you to continue.

Your gaze lingers on his chest, drawn to the unseen nipples beneath the fabric. You swallow, a faint blush creeping up your neck. Your eyes focusing on the area you've found out, your curiosity piqued by the hardened nubs nestled beneath his clothing. Swallowing hard, you gather your courage and ask, "Can I touch these?"

He chuckles, the sound pleasant in your ears. Suguru unties the sash of his gojogesa, letting it fall open to reveal his bare chest. "Go ahead," he encourages, his voice low and commanding.

At first, you hesitate, the proximity to his skin making you feel self-conscious. Slowly, you reach out, your fingers trembling as they brush against his nipples. The sensitivity of the flesh causes his body to shudder.

Encouraged by his reaction, you apply gentle pressure, watching as his nipples react to your touch. They harden further, a stark contrast against his smooth skin.

Suguru's eyes close, the pleasure evident in the soft moan that escapes his lips. His chest rises and falls with every breath, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming.

Your curiosity leads you to act without thinking, your lips capturing one of his nipples. The sudden warmth and wetness surprise Suguru, his hand instinctively moving to caress your hair.

He holds back a surprised laugh, allowing you to continue. As you suck gently, his breathing deepens, his body reacting to the unanticipated stimuli. The sensation of your mouth against his nipple proves to be more sensitive than he'd imagined, and he can feel the stirrings of arousal in his loins.

His cock starts to swell, the fabric of his clothes straining to contain it. The hardening flesh presses against your thigh, a testament to your newfound skill.

Suguru's hold on your hair tightens, the pleasure coursing through his body making it difficult to form coherent thoughts.

The sensation of his erection sends a thrill up your spine, causing you to giggle sheepishly. Suguru returns your laughter with a smirk, his eyes heavy with desire. With quick movements, he pulls your top off, revealing your own breasts.

His large hands cup your breasts, fingers tracing circles around your nipples. You squirm under his touch, attempting to dislodge his hands. But his grip is firm, refusing to let go.

"Why did you stop?" he asks, his voice low and commanding, tinged with a hint of playfulness. "Don't you want to feel what I am feeling?"

The question piques your curiosity, and you press your mouth back onto his nipple. As you suckle, Suguru mirrors your actions, dragging his fingers across the other nipple. They continue to toy with your hardening nubs, the sensations building with each stroke.

The rhythmic and insistent play continues, both of you immersed in the dance of pleasure. The intensity escalates, culminating in a sharp intake of breath from Suguru as he reaches his climax.

His fingers tighten around your nipples pulling and pinching them, his seed spilling onto his clothes. The sudden combination of pleasure and pain from his grip makes you nibble on his nipple, the dual sensations intoxicating.

As the waves of ecstasy subside, both of you pull back, panting from the intensity of the encounter.

Bashful, you hide your face in his chest, the intimacy of the situation leaving you flushed and breathless. Suguru's fingers trail along your spine, a gentle caress that soothes your nerves.

In the moment of quiet, he asks, "Do you still miss your mom?"

Your voice is soft, tinged with a hint of sincerity as you respond, "N-no... not that much. Not when you're around."

A gentle chuckle emanates from his chest, and you can't help but join in. The shared laughter is a moment of vulnerability, healing the longing you have for your mother.

◈ RYOMEN SUKUNA

Today is Mother's Day, and the emptiness of missing your mother looms over you like a dark cloud. You feel lost, and the void inside your heart seems to stretch and grow, making you lash out in frustration. Uraume tries to comfort you, but it's no use. You're consumed by your sadness, and you begin to yell and scream, throwing a tantrum.

"WHERE IS DAD!" you cry out, your voice raw with emotion. Uraume, sensing your distress, tries to follow you, their small hands reaching out to you as if to calm you down. But you're too lost in your grief, and you keep running, your feet carrying you further and further away from the comfort of the temple.

You don't notice where you're going, your emotions driving you forward. Suddenly, you collide with a solid surface, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of you. As you regain your breath, you look up to find Sukuna squinting down at you, his expression unreadable.

"What did I tell you about screaming?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous. His four arms fold across his chest, and his eyes bore into yours, waiting for an explanation.

You frown, tears streaming down your face, "D-dad," you start slowly, your voice cracking. "I want my mom too, Uraume can't be my mom, I need my real mom. I'm so, so lonely." Your words come out in a rush, the weight of your emotions too heavy to bear alone.

Uraume sighs heavily as they approach Sukuna, their small hands fidgeting with their robes. "Lord Sukuna, she has been throwing her tantrums the whole day. I am tired now... you have to take care of her now," Uraume complains, their voice heavy with exhaustion.

Sukuna nods, his eyes never leaving you. He reaches down, his four arms wrapping around you, easily lifting you from your feet. You continue to throw your tantrums, hitting his back as hard as you can with your fists, but he remains stoic, unperturbed by your outburst.

As he carries you to his room, your sobs slowly die down, replaced by heavy, shaky breaths. Once inside, he gently sets you down on the bed, his eyes never leaving you.

"Listen, brat," he begins, his voice stern but laced with a hint of concern. "You don't get to throw tantrums just because you're my child."

But before he can finish, your emotions get the better of you again, and hot tears spill over your cheeks, tracking down your face. You bury your face against his chest, your body shaking with each sob.

Sukuna's eyes soften, and he kneels down beside the bed, allowing you to hide against his hard, muscular form. "Now now, don't cry, brat. I'm not scolding you. I'm just trying to-"

But his words are cut off as you suddenly latch onto one of his nipples, your lips wrapping around it, sucking it into your mouth. You cling to him, your grip tenacious.

Sukuna watches you for a moment, a mixture of surprise and amusement flashing across his features. His hand reaches up to gently stroke your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as you continue to suckle on his nipple.

"Ah, that feels nice, brat," he says, his voice a low rumble. He pulls back slightly, giving you better access to his chest. "Do you want to suckle like this, little one?"

You nod, cheeks drying as you continue to suck on his nipple, your mouth warm and wet against his skin. Sukuna relaxes, settling onto the bed, and you nestle against him, your body finally still as you find comfort in this primitive act. In the dimly lit room, you hold on to Sukuna, his heartbeat slow and steady beneath your cheek. As you nurse on his nipple, the sadness that had gripped you earlier begins to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and security.

As you cling to him, your body still, you finally muster up the courage to ask, your voice small and muffled against his chest. "Daddy, can you... can you milk?"

Sukuna can't help but let out a booming laugh at your request, the sound echoing through the room. "You're missing your mother so much, huh?" he chuckles, the sound soft and amused. "I'm not her, so I cannot milk.."

He leans down to kiss the top of your head, his lips warm against your skin. "Go back to sleep now. You'll feel better tomorrow. And I promise, I'm not leaving you."

He nestles you closer, his strong arms wrapping around you, and you snuggle into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body, the beat of his heart, and the safety of his presence. His voice is a soothing lullaby, and soon, your eyes grow heavy, your body drifting off to sleep.

Sukuna's other arms wrap around you, his fingers gently massaging your back. "There, there," he coos, his deep voice soothing you further. "You're safe with me, little one."

The night stretches on, and you continue to suckle, slowly drifting off to sleep, your body lulled by the rhythm of his heartbeat and the comfort of his touch. For now, the emptiness of missing your mother fades into the background, replaced by the love and protection of Sukuna.

◈ SHIU KONG

The day drags on, your spirits dampened by the weight of your sadness. Today, of all days, feels like a cruel reminder of your loss. The celebration of motherhood is a painful sting, a wound that's reopened by the simple act of remembering.

Shiu senses the shift in your demeanour, his eyes sympathetic as he joins you on the couch, throwing his half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray. You're lost in your thoughts, staring blankly at the TV screen, when he speaks, breaking the silence. "It's a tough day, isn't it?" His voice is gentle, a stark contrast to the usual tone of authority.

You nod, your eyes brimming with unshed tears as you clutch a pillow close to your chest. "I miss her," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. The pain of losing your mother is a constant companion, one that fades with time but never truly disappears.

Shiu's response is immediate, his arms wrapping around you once more, pulling you onto his lap. His hand strokes your hair, an attempt to soothe the ruffled feathers of your heart. His kisses dot your forehead, a tender display of affection.

"I love you," he says, his voice soft and sincere. The words carry a depth of emotion, a promise that despite the circumstances, you are not alone. "Baby, I can do your mom and dad both, okay? Come on, what will make you feel better?"

Your gaze falls on his chest, his nipples pressing against his shirt, the sight momentarily distracting you from your sorrow.

Your hand hesitates, hovering over his chest for a moment before rising, your fingers tentatively brushing against his nipples. Shiu's eyes follow your movement, a hint of confusion coloring his expression.

The words tumble out, pleading and vulnerable, "Can I… will you let… me suck on them, please?" The request is unexpected, a confession of a secret desire, born from a place of grief and yearning.

Shiu's eyes widen, a perplexed expression crossing his features. However, he recovers quickly, nodding as he sits up, pulling his shirt over his head. His chest is revealed, smooth and toned, his nipples a darker hue against the pale skin. "Alright, go ahead. If that will make you miss your mom less."

His words linger in the air, the consent given, the door now open to your desire.

Your heart races as you lean forward, your lips parting as they close over one of the hard nubs. Your tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive tip, the sensation of skin against your mouth unlike anything you've experienced before.

The taste of him, faint and slightly salty, is a shock to your senses, your mind hazy with the exploration of new territory. As you focus on the task, the ache of missing your mother begins to fade, replaced by a newfound sensation of comfort and intimacy.

The act is strange and all-consuming, your fingers tangled in the fabric of Shiu's pants, the sensation of your lips and tongue on his nipple sending shivers down his spine. His breath hitches, the unexpected turn of events stirring something within him.

His hand rests on your head, gently guiding you as you explore, the touch a mixture of reassuring and possessive. Shiu's body tenses, the involuntary reaction to the sensation you're providing.

The room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you, connected by the intimate act, the chasm of your loss temporarily bridged by the strange comfort found in the act.

His voice comes out gruff, a mixture of embarrassment and awe in his tone. The admission is unexpected, revealing a side to him you've never seen.

You watch him, unblinking, sensing the shift in his demeanor. The layers of authority and strictness seem to falter for a moment, replaced by vulnerability.

"It's okay," he reassures you, his hand caressing your head gently once more. "It's just, you're awakening feelings I haven't felt in a long time." The confession is startling, the admission opening a door to a world previously unexplored.

The implications of his words swirl in your mind, the weight of the admission leaving you feeling a little shaky. The intimacy between the two of you deepens, the shared secret a bond unlike any other.

You continue your exploration, the newfound knowledge fueling your curiosity, the two of you falling further into the abyss of your connection.

As you continue your sensual ministrations, you become aware of Shiu's attempts to thrust his hips against you, a silent plea for more. Your curiosity piqued, you release his nipple from your mouth, your hands deftly navigating the path to his growing erection.

The feel of his hardness in your hand is electrifying, your fingers curling around the base, your thumb stroking the sensitive head. Your lips return to his nipple as your hand works in tandem, the dual stimulation driving him wild.

His breath hitches, his body arching into your touch, the restraint he's been exerting slipping. Shiu's whimpers fill the room, his need for release palpable. His fingers bury themselves in your hair, clinging to you as you drive him closer to the edge.

Finally, it happens. His body shudders, his hips bucking into your hand as he comes, the warmth of his seed coating your skin. A wave of relief washes over him, his grip loosening as he slumps back into the couch.

You release his nipple, your lips wet from your actions, your hand cradling his spent length. The intimacy of the act hangs heavy in the air, the boundaries you've crossed looming in the aftermath.

The scene is one of vulnerability, a shared secret now binding the two of you in a way that was previously unimaginable. The intensity of the moment is palpable, a new world opened by your exploration, your actions irrevocably changing the dynamic between you and Shiu.

◈ HIGURUMA HIROMI

You're sitting in your room, the dim light of dusk seeping through the curtains, painting shadows on the walls. Today, Mother's Day, should be brimming with warmth and love, but instead, it feels hollow and icy.

To compound matters, Hiromi, your stepfather, who should be offering solace, is absent too, absorbed in his work as usual. You know he's out there, tackling cases, serving justice to others, but in doing so, he's left you here, isolated, submerged in sadness. While a part of you comprehends his dedication to his job, right now, all you can feel is fury and bitterness.

You want to unleash your frustration on him, to question why he's not by your side, why he's prioritizing work over family on such an important day. But instead, you find yourself curled up on your bed, tears streaming down your face, the pain in your heart escalating with each passing second.

Hiromi returns home, greeted by an eerie silence. Something about it unsettles him, and he makes his way to your room, curiosity piqued. The moment he opens the door, he hears your quiet sobs, and his steps falter.

"Y/N?" he calls softly, his heart beginning to race.

You're curled up on your bed, tears streaming down your face, your posture tense with anger and sadness. Hiromi hurriedly rushes over and wraps his arms around you, lifting you gently from the bed in a warm embrace.

Your tiny hands attempt to push him away, your voice trembling with emotion.. "Put me downn! Leave me alone!"

Hiromi sets you back on your feet, but he doesn't move away. He waits, giving you space to compose yourself. "Why, baby?" he asks gently. "Why are you crying?"

You glare at him, wiping your nose roughly with the back of your hand. "Tis' mother's day, and you were not here for me." The words come out harshly, your tone betraying the vulnerability beneath. "It's not fair. No one ever thinks about me."

Hiromi's heart aches as he listens to your accusations. He reaches for you, gently pulling you close once more. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely, his voice a soft murmur against your hair. "I should have been here with you."

You tense up at his touch, unsure whether to lean into him or resist. He waits patiently, giving you time to process your emotions. "I know today is a difficult day," Hiromi continues, his arms still wrapped around you. "But I'm here now. Let me make it up to you."

Hiromi takes off his suit and crawls into bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you lay on your side. "I'm really sorry for not being here for you today. I promise to make it up to you from now on."

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, then another to your temple. His lips trail down your neck, and he inhales deeply, taking in your scent. His words are a soothing whisper against your skin.

"I love you, and I'm always here for you, even when I'm not. You're my little girl, and I want to protect and care for you, always."

As he continues to shower you in affection, your anger starts to dissipate, replaced by a warmth in your chest. An idea forms in your mind, one that surprises even you. "Can I suck them, Daddy?" You point to Hiromi's nipples, catching him off guard.

His eyes widen, but there's a flicker of curiosity and desire in them. "I should take a shower before," he says, attempting to brush off your request.

Without giving him time to change his mind, you're already leaning forward, unbottoning his shirt, your tongue already tracing circles around one of his nipples. He's caught off guard by your boldness, but it's clear he's enjoying the sensation.

Hiromi's hand threads through your hair, fingers sifting through the soft strands as you lavish attention on his nipple. "Mmm, Y/N..," he breathes out, his voice thick with pleasure. "S-shit" His other hand slides down your back, his fingers kneading your flesh and pressing you closer to him. You smile against his skin, feeling in control for once.

As you continue to lavish attention on his nipple, you can't help but feel a jolt of satisfaction from the way he arches into your touch. His chest rises and falls with heavier breaths, signs of arousal that spur you on.

Hiromi's hand tightens in your hair, his grip firm yet gentle. "Is this my punishment?," he whispers, his tone laced with playful admonishment. "But I can't deny I enjoy this."

Determined to make him suffer your playful punishment, you suck harder on Hiromi's nipple, nibbling on it gently. His moan fills the room, and you can't help but smirk against his skin.

"Fine, fine," he gasps, his voice thick with desire. "You win. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll take a day off just to spend it with you."

A triumphant smile spreads across your face as you pull away from his chest. Hiromi's admission of defeat is all the reward you need. "I'll be back after taking a shower," he tells you, his voice a sultry rumble.

Pouting, you lay back down on the bed, your mind already racing with ideas for the day he's promised you. You can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the thought of spending an entire day with your stepdad.

As Hiromi heads to the shower, his thoughts aren't as chaste as they should be. The way you'd worshipped his nipple, sucking and nibbling, has left him aroused. He tries to quell his erection, his hand wrapping tightly around his cock.

His other hand moves to his nipples, lightly pinching them as he strokes himself. The shower's warm spray hits him, and Hiromi lets out a ragged sigh, giving into the pleasure as he continues to stroke himself, each motion a reenactment of the sensations you'd provided. He moans, his hips bucking slightly as he paints the shower tiles with his release.

Once he's cleaned up, Hiromi steps out of the shower, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He finds you sleeping peacefully in bed, a sight that fills him with affection.

Carefully, he dresses, then crawls into bed. Wrapping his arms around you, Hiromi rests his chin on top of your head, breathing in your scent. His body is lulled into a deep slumber by the soft rise and fall of your chest against his.

The thought of leaving you again is no longer an option. The memory of your playful punishment lingers, a reminder of how much it meant to you to have his undivided attention. Hiromi vows to make the most of the day he's promised you, never daring to leave you alone again on such a precious day.

◈ CHOSO KAMO

Choso was in the middle of his usual routine when he heard your soft sobs. He drops everything and rushes to you, finding you in tears. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you.

You tell him that it's Mother's Day today and that you miss your mother. He feels your pain, and his heart aches for you. "You miss your mom, huh?"

He cradles you close, cooing softly as you cry into his chest. "It's okay to miss her. I do too, you know. She was a great woman." Choso strokes your hair, trying to calm your sobs. "She'd want us to be happy and continue living our lives." Even his eyes well up with tears, but he holds them back.

When you finally stop crying, Choso leads you to your room, a comforting smile on his face. "Alright, sleep baby. It's night time, and you need to rest."

He turns to leave, but you stop him with your request, "P-please stay with me tonight".

Choso's eyes soften as he understands your need for comfort. "Of course. I'll stay with you tonight, little one."

He lies down beside you, making sure you're tucked in and comfortable. He wraps an arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip, giving you the feeling of security. "Go to sleep. Daddy's right here," he whispers, closing his eyes to keep vigil over you while you drift off to dreamless slumber. He's never felt so protective and nurturing towards another person, but he's always willing to do it for your sake.

Afte a while, you turn to face Choso, seeing him awake as well. He notices your distress and gently caresses your head. "Not sleeping yet?" His voice is soft and comforting, trying to reassure you.

You shake your head, admitting that you can't fall asleep. Choso cups your face, looking you straight in the eye. "Come on, baby. You don't need anybody else when I'm here. You're safe, and I'll always protect you." He tries to sing softly, but it's more of a hum. Your laughter at his attempt to serenade you makes Choso blush, and you kiss him on the cheek, your hands roaming his chest.

The thin fabric of his shirt reveals hardened nipples, and you can't help but notice. "They're hardening," you whisper, your fingers brushing over them. Choso's eyes widen, unsure of what you're referring to. "What?"

You grin at his confusion, leaning in closer. "Your nipples." With that, you take one into your mouth, sucking gently through his thin shirt. Choso gasps, the unexpected sensation sending shivers down his spine. "Y/N..." he murmurs, unsure of how to react. He's never experienced anything like this before, and your intrusive thoughts have led to a new discovery between the two of you. Choso's body is reacting in ways he doesn't fully understand, but his protectiveness and care for you haven't wavered.

Choso's cock twitches as he lets out a soft moan, whimpering like a baby at the sensation. You're enticed by his reaction, pushing his top away to suck his nipple directly. He arches his back, a string of curses escaping his lips. "G-goddammit, fuck! Hngh!" His body tenses as he accidentally cums in his pants, panting heavily.

Surprised by his reaction, you straddle him and continue sucking his nipples, your hands stroking his slicky shaft, now free from his pants. Choso gasps, feeling a heightened sensitivity. "Baby, no more. I get it. You miss your mom. Now stop," he whimpers, his hands attempting to pull you off. His efforts are in vain.

You continue to play with his cum-covered cock and lick his neck, moving back to his nipples. Sucking them as if you're a milk pump, you enjoy the reaction you're getting from Choso. His body writhes underneath you, a mix of pleasure and discomfort.

He's never experienced anything like this, and the intense emotions he's feeling are growing. Despite his attempts to stop you, he's also enjoying your attention, the line between pain and pleasure blurred.

Choso's hips thrust against your hand as his fingers wraps around your head, urging you to suck his nipples harder. Your other hand pinches his other nipple, tease his earlobes. The sensory overload is too much, causing him to cum again, this time all over your hand.

You pull your mouth away, both of you breathing heavily. You giggle, feeling a sense of satisfaction from your actions. Choso looks at you, panting, as if you're a devilish baby. He can't help but laugh along with you, the tension breaking.

You both collapse into each other, exhausted and satisfied. The night air envelops you as you fall into a deep sleep, the events of the night unfolding a new connection between Choso and you. His protectiveness has blossomed into something deeper, subtly changing the dynamic between the two of you.

dividers from @/cafekitsune

[evergumi]

megumi loves showering with you, but it's not even in a sexual way. it was just the way you massaged your slender fingers into his raven locks so lovingly, the scent of your sweet-smelling shampoo filling his nostrils as your fingertips scraped his scalp that made him want to shed tears; the way he finds comfort in the warm water cascading around the two of you, steam rising and enveloping the small space like a gentle hug.

soft music plays from outside the shower, overlapping the constant sound of the water running. the gentle notes of glue song by beabadoobee fill the air, your soft hums mixing with the words as you wash his hair, creating a soothing melody and drowning out the world outside. the way you tenderly rinse out the lather, eyes occasionally meeting with that playful spark, makes him feel secure, almost cherished as he tries to fight back the small twitch of his lips.

"close your eyes," you say softly. "let me wash it out." the warm water from the showerhead runs through his hair, and the feeling of your hands in his hair makes him rest a gentle hand on your shoulder. the soft melody of the song playing adds to the calm atmosphere. as you finish rinsing out the shampoo, megumi smiles at you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“my turn,” he murmurs as he turns you around, giving your arm a gentle caress as he squeezes a generous amount of shampoo onto his calloused palm, combing through your dark locks with his other hand as you giggle. the pale pink liquid forms suds in your hair, and he gently massages it into your head as you sing along to the music, a smile on your face. bringing the showerhead to your head as you did for him and turning it on, he cups your cheek and tells you to close your eyes. he runs his rough fingertips through your silky hair, watching in awe as the soap suds clear out. “your hair…” he mumbles. “this is why it smells so good…”

you chuckle softly, squeezing your eyes shut as shampooey water runs over your eyes.

“you say that every time.”

“that’s because it smells too good not to say anything, y/n.”

he cups your cheeks, murmuring softly to relax your eyes as you close them so that he can squeeze out the water, just in case it hurt them; he uses the pads of his thumbs to gently press against your eyelids, trying to hide the slight twitch of his lips as you scrunch your nose.

the moments stretch into a quiet intimacy as water drips rhythmically around you, each drop a soft reminder of the bond you share. he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering closed as he relishes the feeling of being cared for. sometimes, you share stories, laughter intertwining with the sound of water, and his heart swells at the joy of these simple, yet profound moments. it's a retreat from everything else, a sanctuary built on trust and warmth, where the chaos of life fades away, leaving only the sweet solace of companionship. and in those fleeting moments, he realizes that it’s not just a shower—it’s a little piece of heaven, a small escape that he longs for, more and more each day.

“guess what i’m drawing on your back,” you giggle. “draw what you feel on the fog.”

tracing your slender finger over his back, megumi frowns in concentration as he uses his calloused fingertip to draw what he feels on his back onto the fogged-up glass door, making you laugh yet again.

“what is that, gumi?”

“i don’t know. what is that, y/n?”

“the doggies, nutmeg.”

“don’t call me that.”

your laughter bounces softly off the bathroom walls, and megumi lets out a quiet grumble. after a moment of silence, he clears his throat and turns to trace his own finger along the glass door again, this time more deliberate.

you tilt your head curiously as you watch him. “what’re you drawing now?”

he doesn’t answer, focused on the small shapes forming beneath his fingertip. when he steps aside, you see it—a little family of stick figures, one noticeably smaller than the other two, with scribbly “dogs” beside them.

“megumi,” you whisper softly, feeling your heart squeeze.

he shrugs, his tone casual but his expression soft. “just thinking it’d be nice, you know. you, me, the dogs… and maybe a little girl.”

your chest tightens with warmth as you stare at the little drawing. you can almost hear the giggles of a child blending into the sound of the water, a soft addition to these peaceful moments.

megumi doesn’t say anything more, but the way his hand lingers over yours and the small upward tug of his lips tells you enough. and in that moment, he can imagine these showers, but with a small, giggling girl in the mix, her laughter filling the space with a kind of joy he never knew he needed.

a/n ⋆ megumi would def be a girl dad and im gonna say this till the day i die guys i need him to carry my child hes too wholesome my adorable husband :((((

thank you for reading, ily ! lmk if you wanna be tagged and remember, reqs are always open loves !

© evergumi

[spatialwave]

pretty little thing.

➸ ask: “❛ i need you. please. i'll be quick. ❜ with Viktor and a usually bold reader, but who’s right now just so needy for Viktor 👉👈” – ➸ pairing: viktor x fem!reader ➸ word count: 1.2k ➸ tags: mdni! nsfw, fxm, shameless smut, porn w/o much plot, masturbation, oral sex, facials, submissive viktor, bold reader. ➸ notes: i genuinely never felt filthier writing something fjgnsdjfg–don’t LOOK AT ME. 😳 ask came from this prompt! askbox is temporarily open...currently taking a few modern au requests!!

Everything about Viktor drove you fucking crazy.

Those narrow eyes that pierced through you, sending cold shivers through your spine when they flickered up and down your figure. Slender, nimble hands that worked tirelessly to please you, fingers flitting between your legs, pushing inside you and curling against the bundle of nerves that had you crying out. His lips that praised you with words and left heady kisses along your skin and cunt, your thighs clenching on either side of his head as you rode the waves of pleasure coursing through you.

But–you drove him crazier.

A cocky smirk would creep to your lips when you sat idly next to Viktor, both silent as his free hand that wasn’t hastily writing notes over parchment danced along your thigh. Slow, meticulous movements that dipped between your legs, fingers running along the edge of your panties. He was good at silent asks, not much for words or begging, and you were always quick to indulge a man so deserving.

Bold enough to force him back on the bed, riding him until the early morning hours as the warm sun sprawled along your naked bodies and your hips ached and thighs cramped. Until he was a whimpering mess underneath you, strangled groans caught in his throat as he filled you.

You were much better with patience. You preferred waiting for his actions that indicated his desires, absent-minded touches that wouldn’t cease until you were on your knees blowing him. 

Viktor had been preoccupied all week, focusing his energy on the research with Jayce and leaving you to your own devices. The days blended into the next, and tonight, you were a pitiful mess. You hadn't felt this way in a long time. As you sank into the couch, book clutched tightly in your hands, you squeezed your thighs together, and you ached longingly—desperate.

You fixated on the words, but they danced along each page, twisting into an indecipherable mess and leaving your mind as quickly as they came. Pages and pages were left unread as frustration bubbled up in the back of your throat and a loud groan came through. 

Fuck this.

In a swift motion, the book was discarded to the floor and your hand slid between your legs, eyes falling shut as they slipped into the fabric of your underwear with familiarity. Tentative touches, gentle fingers circling your clit that was throbbing. Your other hand slipped into your shirt, fondling your breasts and pinching your nipple, wishing so badly that it was Viktor’s hands making you feel so good.

It was easy to fall into the rhythmic motions, an idyllic smile lifting the corners of your lips as your desires were met. Not in the way you would have preferred, but taken care of nonetheless.

Two fingers slipped inside easily, your cunt eagerly enveloping the digits. Not quite long enough to make the lasting impact Viktor could.

The click of a lock snapped your body upright.

Widened eyes shot to the door that creaked open, and your heart soared. A rare occurrence that Viktor would make it home before you had fallen asleep. Adjusting yourself, you pulled your hands from your body and stood up, the slick between your legs coating your panties and seeping through to the satin fabric of your sleep shorts.

“Hi, baby,” you chirped, voice laced with lust as hands haphazardly fixed your hair that knotted from your position on the couch. You were uncertain why physical presentation mattered when your lover’s face was covered in signs of exhaustion. Dark under eyes, tousled hair, and buttoned shirt untucked.

He looked far too good to remain casual. Fuck, you were feral.

Viktor locked the door behind him, a smile gracing his lips as soft eyes settled upon you and his weight shifted back to his cane, “Still up? I hope you weren’t waiting for me.”

Your eyes flickered to the clock, it was well past midnight.

“No,” you shook your head, wondering if your hot cheeks and heavy breaths hinted at your previous state. Surely, he noticed. “Just… couldn’t sleep,” you lied.

Oh, he noticed.

Interest flickered in his eyes, and a curiosity settled in his chest, but gods, he was tired. He couldn’t even think straight, surprised that he hadn’t fallen asleep at his desk in the lab like he had two nights before.

Viktor stepped forward, cane clicking along the wood, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry, love,” his gentle words heavy on your heart, “I’m exhausted.”

Two impatient hands flew to his vest, fingers toying with the buttons eagerly.

“Viktor,” you whimpered, pulling your head back so you could look into his eyes, pleading.

It was an unusual act to see you standing before him with your knees quaking as you begged. His cock stirred in his slacks, hardening at the mere sight of you acting so pitifully, ready to do whatever you needed to earn his attention. 

“I need you,” you mewled, fingers beginning to undo the buttons of his vest. Shaky fingers expertly removed each one with practiced ease.

“I–shit,” he hissed, cheeks burning a deep red as you began to sink onto your knees once his vest popped open.

“–Please, I’ll be quick.”

Viktor didn’t make any moves to stop you, his free hand lifting to cover the bottom half of his face as you dug past his belt. A moan muffled behind his fingers when his cock sprung free from the layers of clothing that had felt far too restrictive, and he fell back against the closed door. Your eager hands stroked him, milking out the pre-cum that you lapped up greedily on your flattened tongue.

He whimpered, cane discarded to the floor as he worked hard to keep his knees from buckling beneath him. Your only response was to keep going, lips wrapping around his cock as you took him in as far as you could. A repetitive movement as you bobbed your head and swirled your tongue around him, and fuck, you loved his moans.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, eyes fluttering as they rolled back, a hand reaching down to grab at your hair to coax you along him. Pushing himself down your throat, knowing very well you could take it.

You choked on him, the gags and whines from your throat sending heat right into his gut. The coil in his abdomen tightened as you swallowed around him, trying to milk out his cum that you were desperate to taste on your tongue. 

You were deserving of it, weren’t you?

Two hands pressed to his bare thighs, scratching at his pale skin as tears stung your eyes when he hit the back of your throat. You were greeted by a pleasantly hard tug in your hair, yanking your mouth from his cock just as he felt himself hit his release.

Groaning deep in his chest as he grabbed the base of his cock with his other hand, stroking as the splattering of hot cum decorated your face. He had been pent-up for so long that it didn’t seem to end, strings of it clinging to your tongue that you had cheekily stuck out, over your closed eyes and down your chin and jaw.

A pretty little painting.

Viktor was rendered breathless, his hand slowing as his cock twitched, and the remaining cum he pushed out dripped down to the floor between your knees.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hardly able to make the words come to fruition through his heavy breaths.

Your eyes opened, smiling blissfully up at your lover.

“Let me fuck you, and I’ll forgive you.”

[vxnuslogy]

— pasalubong.

pairing: kinich x gn!reader

premise: kinich wasn't a sentimental person at heart, until you left to travel. neither was he easily upset, but here he was, undoubtedly upset that you didn't give him a gift with your recent package.

— warnings: ooc-kinich and ajaw (still havent done the new aq), he's a bit down bad, and misses you dearly.

— author's note: this is not angst despite the premise LMFAO. art credits to @.n429g on twt. | 1.6k words.

“delivery for kinich!” a mail man shouted, trying his best to not look down over the ledge the scions of the canopy is held. “delivery for ki—”

“i heard ya!” the small dragon yells, taking the sealed letter and small box from the man’s hands and throws a pouch of mora as thanks. 

the man sweat drops at the comical sight of the tiny dragonlord floating up to where kinich was. said man was dangling his legs over the ledge, hair swaying with the wind and an indifferent look on his face as he swats away his small companion and roughly takes the letter in his hands. he could only assume that the two had started another argument once again.

with a sigh, he cups a hand to his mouth and shouts, “thank you for your patronage!”

kinich looked in his direction and gave him a small nod. there were few postal workers here in natlan, so he made sure to at least pay the man generously—especially with how his legs shake and hand clutch the side of the mountain for dear life.

ajaw continued to punch and tug at his head but his attention had zeroed in on the envelope. it felt heavier than the last and you had sent a small package with it. ‘for my dearest, kinich & almighty dragon lord, ajaw.’ the small note said with your signature right below it as well as a wax seal at the corner. your penmanship makes kinich smile and before ajaw can open his mouth, he takes the grapple on his waist and zips away to find a secluded place to open your gifts. they were sacred to him and therefore had to be treated with utmost care.

when he lands on teticpac peak, he sits down by one of the rocks and gently peels away the seal. kinich makes a mental note to stop by a market to get a new container for all your letters, after all, his bedside drawer can only hold so much of you over the years. 

‘to my dearest, kinich,’

with just four words, you had him smiling like a fool. one hand propped behind his back to support his weight as he leisurely soaks in your stories like a sponge. ajaw sits by his shoulder, impatiently demanding him to open the box that came along with your letter. kinich was not even half way with reading before he relented—you always had a knack for making pages and pages of stories, but he didn’t mind. you have been away for nearly 7 years now and send only a letter or two every few years. kinich learned to appreciate the pages of your love every time they arrive.

“hurry up!” ajaw demanded, waiting with bated breath as kinich opened the box. “learn to be patient, ajaw.”

the dragon only huffed and turned around but it didn’t take long before he dove head first into the array of gifts. while his little companion drowned in material luxuries, kinich took out items in piles and made a mental note to give them to their respective owners.

kinich tucked the small pouch with xilonen’s name along with your letter for her at his side. he will deliver these to her first, he concludes. as he’s sifting through the items, kinich catches a glimpse of ajaw sitting on a toy fox’s head with a small note with kachina’s name. the final item that seemed important was a small box containing colorful seashells with mualani’s name on it.

his brows furrowed in confusion as he sets all the gifts down carefully and sifts through the package one more time. and again, and again, until his lower back felt sore. ajaw noticed his antsy behavior and decided to look at what all the fuss was about. kinich sat down, head lowered with his bangs covering his eyes—ajaw was beginning to worry (but he would rather die than verbally admit it).

“hey!” ajaw turned to kinich who had stiffly stood up. clutching at your letter as the sliver of expectancy in his eyes dimmed. “don't tell me they actually forgot about you?”

“let’s go back,” he says with a subtly sullen voice. “we have to deliver these to the others.”

ajaw makes no further comment and sits on his shoulder as they zip from one place to another. he doesn’t point out the way kinich’s eyes looked duller and the way a frown tugged at his lips—he was upset. 

“hmph! i'll be sure to show them a piece of my mind when they get back!" the dragon complains to him as they arrive back home. kinich beelined his way back to his residence, a bit more aggressive than he normally would.

he doesn’t want to admit that he was upset—it was stupid. so what if you didn’t get him a gift after not hearing from you for almost a year? but how come everyone else had one? hell even citlani and mavuika received one, so why didn’t he?

with a click of his tongue he pushed past all the people in his way, muttering half hearted apologies here and there as ajaw kept calling his name. kinich was not upset nor was he disappointed—he wasn’t a child chasing after the trail of gold you left behind anymore. he was an adult now, someone people look up to and admire. kinich was no longer the shy kid that always wondered if he could ever chase after you.

“kinich!”

with the shout of his name, he was taken back to memory lane. how you would call to him from the ground, a pair of wheels at your feet as you glided through the rocky terrain as if it were made of ice. the smile you flash him as you point to your finish line makes his heart skip a few beats, rendering him only to reply in a nod because his mind has turned into a mushy puddle. 

“kinich!”

you have always been golden in his eyes. smiles bright like the sun, kindness gentle like its morning rays, and hypnotizing in the starry trail you leave behind. kinich remembers the first time he tried his hands on rollerblades. he felt unwittingly afraid of standing on his own two feet, the possibility of his world turning upside down with one single step scared him. but you were always there to ward away his fears. it wasn’t long before he took them off and said with a dead expression that he will never try them again. the laugh that he managed to steal from your lungs made all his suffering worth it.

“kinich!”

he doesn’t like letting things go, not when you’ve taught him how to cherish every little thing. but he’d hate himself if he kept you from your dreams. so there he was, all those years ago, standing by natlan’s borders, unable to say goodbye as the rest bid theirs. you had to make him face you—gently cupping his jaw with both hands and flashing a small smile, giving him a tempting offer.

“let me stay,” you said. you were willing to give up your dreams if it meant making him happy. kinich didn’t want his happiness, he wanted yours.

“leave,” he said bluntly. it made you laugh because it sounded incredibly rude, but the way he held your hand in his shaking hold, lip bitten until it almost bled, everyone knew he was struggling the most.

“i’ll give you souvenirs,” you offered as consultation and it took every willpower he had to say he only wanted you. 

“i’ll keep them safe.” he replied and you smiled.

“kinich!”

urging you to travel has been the best and worst decision in his life—you were enjoying your life but he was stuck missing you. his longing for the sun in his life greatly outweighed his happiness for you. how can he be happy when happiness is spelled with your name? the way you smile, and the way you leave a golden trail?

“kinich.”

“ajaw, enou—” his sentence was cut off when he turned to look at the smiling faces of his tribe. brows furrowed in confusion as he searched the crowd for a certain green dragon, but all his eyes could see was gold.

the wind in his lungs was stolen as the images of smiling faces turn to fade, his attention solely on you in the distance, ajaw by your side as you both waved him over. as fast as the winds could take him, kinich ran straight in your arms—his home. your laugh ringed like morning birds and your hands felt warm like the afternoon heat. you were home; you were his gift.

“pasalubong, for kinich,” you say with a teasing lilt to your voice. 

“pasalubong?” he repeats, hands coming to cradle your smiling face. “what does that mean?”

you smile wider and hold his hands with your own. “it means gifts given by homecomers. but,” you tuck away a stray piece of his hair behind his ear as you tempt him in another embrace. ��it can also mean ‘to meet again.’”

kinich laughed—airy and bright, like the setting sun. this was so you, he thought, burying his head in your neck. trying to make up for all the lost physical contact he had missed. 

“thank you for the gift.” he said with a smile.

you pat him on the back and hummed in delight. “i came back just for you.”

“i’m honered,” he jests and takes a step back, not letting your hand go. “you should be! the trip back home is nothing short of tedious!”

he chuckles because kinich knows he’s a goner. no need for xilonen’s amused teasing, mualani’s persistence and kachina’s curiosity. everyone in his tribe and maybe even natlan knew, kinich would wait for you knowing you’ll eventually come home to him.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[sylusdarling]

Tender

Sylus x reader

✧Sylus takes care of you while you’re on your period

Content: Sylus x fem!reader, no smut, fluff, he takes care of you, overall very soft, kinda short tbh

A/N: This is how I cope with my period, needing a Sylus right now. Also! I do proofread but my eyesight isn’t amazing so please excuse any mistakes :)

Being sent to the N109 zone while you were in pain wasn’t your ideal day. Waking up nauseous and in pain really set the tone for the day. Forgetting your gun at home and having to turn around while you were minutes away from arriving at work, being sent on a mission by yourself and getting a small gash in your face by a wanderer. Truly, you’d rather be anywhere but here right now.

You were too tired to make it home after your mission so instead you resorted to the next best thing.

Knocking on the large door, you waited for an answer. You were expecting Luke or Kieran to answer but instead Sylus answered himself. He looked down at you with his signature smirk. “So what do I owe this pleasure, kitten?”

“Hey Sy…” Today you had no witty comeback. Instead you looked at him with a strained smile and your hand was clenching your stomach.

His brows knit together and moved to the side in order to usher you in. “What’s wrong?” He asked, voice laced with concern.

You stepped inside and followed him down the corridor. “I’ve just had a really exhausting day. And I got my period on top of it.” You let out a little chuckle.

Sylus’ gaze softened while looking at you. “I see, follow me then.” Outstretching his hand to you, he made a motion with his fingers telling you to give him your hand. Placing your hand in his he wrapped his long fingers around yours. He led you to his room, “Sit on the bed for now, i’ll run you a warm bath, alright sweetie?”

Obliging, you sat on his bed as he disappeared off into the bathroom. You could hear the water running faintly as you closed your eyes. You opened your eyes once you heard footsteps approaching.

“Tired?” Sylus asked.

You nodded, “A bit.”

He nodded in understanding. “The bath is ready for you whenever you’re ready. I’ll be in the study when you’re done.”

“Thank you.” Smiling warmly at him, you made your way into the bathroom. You stripped off your hunter uniform and folded it, placing it on the vanity. Stepping into the warm water, you sunk down letting the water envelop you.

You were grateful for Sylus. The Onichynus leader was seen as cruel and cold by the majority and to be completely honest you thought the same at first. But it turned out that he’s sweet and deeply caring. Sarcastic and blunt? Most definitely. But you wouldn’t ask for anything else. You were grateful you got to see this side of him that was exclusive for you.

Deciding you’ve had enough of the bath, you stood up and toweled yourself dry. Wrapping the towel around you, you opened the bathroom door into the bedroom. On the bed there was a fresh set of burgundy pyjamas with a note that read, “For you -Sylus.”

After throwing on the pyjamas you made your way down the hall to the study. Pushing open the door you were met with Sylus’ broad back. Looking at the shelf he skimmed through the books looking for one that piqued this interest. After hearing your footsteps he turned around.

“Hey kitten. Feeling better after the bath?”

“Much better. Thank you for the pyjamas too.”

“You’re very welcome. If you need any meds let me know, I’ll send out Luke and Kieran to fetch some.”

“That’s sweet thank you, but I think I can manage.”

He made a gesture towards the couch, “Take a seat.”

Taking a seat on the couch, Sylus made his way over to you from the bookshelf picking up a black mug from the table as he approached. “Here.” He outstretched the mug to you, “It’s some tea, It should help with your stomach.”

Reaching out with both hands you grabbed the mug and took a sip. “It’s good, thank you Sy.”

The crimson eyed man took a seat beside you with a book in hand. “What’s that about?” You asked.

“It’s a fantasy novel. About a dragon and his lover.” He said as he opened the it to the first page.

Leaning your head on his shoulder you peered at the novel. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a fantasy person.”

Sylus chuckled, “I like it. It’s a change from everyday life.”

“How are your cramps? Would you like me to rub your stomach?” Sylus asked.

You considered it for a moment, “If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Nothings ever too much trouble when it comes to you.” His hand moved to settle on your stomach. Softly, he moved his hand around on your stomach, the warm touch soothing you. You cuddled deeper into his side. “Read the book to me?”

A soft smile formed on his lips, “Sure, why not.”

He read the novel and his soft, husky voice began to lull you to sleep. The mug hung loosely in your hand as your breath evened out. Sylus glanced over at you and placed a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Sleep well, kitten.”

[aceyalonso]

a winners celebration - LANDO NORRIS

pairing : lando norris x best friend!reader

summary : win celebrations look a little different for lando norris this time around

warnings/notes : swearing, drinking, smut, unprotected sex (please use a condom!), overstimulation, fingering, hair pulling, oral (both!receiving), praise kink, use of "baby" and "good girl", pussydrunk!lando lowkey, 69, dacryphilia

word count : 5.3k

a/n : i miss race weekends | there's a lot more plot to this compared to the previous days

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

September 22, 2024 - 10:36 PM

Lando was riding a high of adrenaline and joy as the checkered flag waved at the finish line, signaling his victory at the Singapore Grand Prix. His team swarmed around him, celebrating and congratulating him for the hard-earned win, but it was the person waiting in the pit stands that caught his eye.

Y/n stood there, smiling and waving, watching Lando's success. He couldn't help but grin wider, seeing his best friend's proud expression. He knew that she had been there cheering him on, supporting him every step of the way.

Lando quickly shook off the other team members, making his way over to where Y/n stood. He walked with a slight swagger, still riding the high of the race win. Once he reached his friend, he flashed a cocky smirk, before enveloping her in a tight hug.

"Told you I'd win." He murmured jokingly, pulling back to look Y/n in the eye.

Y/n laughed, returning the hug and rolling their eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You're so full of yourself." She teased playfully, punching him lightly in the arm.

Lando just chuckled, shrugging. "Hey, can you blame me? I just won the damn race. I feel like I could take on the world right now."

She chuckled at his boastful statement, shaking her head in amusement. "More like your ego could take on the world. Careful, your head might not fit through the doors anymore if it gets any bigger."

He gasped in mock offense. "Hey, my head is the perfect size, thank you very much." Lando protested jokingly, running a hand through his hair. "Besides, you love my ego and you know it."

Y/n rolled her eyes again, but couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Your ego is just so charming, how could I resist." She replied sarcastically, pretending to swoon.

Lando looked at Y/n apologetically. "I hate to cut this short, but I gotta go give some interviews and stuff. But I'll meet you in the hotel lobby in a bit, and we'll go out and celebrate. Sound good?"

She nodded, understanding. "Yeah, no worries. Go do your press stuff." Y/n said with a smile. "I'll see you in a bit in the lobby."

Lando nodded, already turning to walk away when he suddenly stopped and turned back, a mischievous grin on his face. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Y/n's cheek before realizing what he'd just done.

He froze, realizing how he may have crossed a line. He quickly blurted out a "thank you" and turned away, heading off to do his interviews while leaving Y/n shocked and confused by the unexpected display of affection.

Y/n was left standing there, feeling her cheek where Lando had kissed her before walking away. They were both shocked and confused by his actions, unsure of what to make of it.

Y/n took a moment to compose herself, shaking her head to snap out of the daze and heading back to the hotel. As she walked, she couldn't stop thinking about the kiss on the cheek. Did it mean something, or was it just a spontaneous act in the heat of the moment? Y/n wasn't sure, but the thought of it made her chest flutter.

September 22, 2024 - 11:43 PM

An hour or so later, Y/n was waiting in the hotel lobby, just as they had agreed upon. She was sitting on a plush couch in the lobby, scrolling through her phone, when suddenly, they heard a familiar voice say, "Hey, there you are."

Y/n looked up from her phone to see Lando strolling toward her, looking more casual now that he wasn't in his race suit. He was wearing a simple shirt and jeans, his hair tousled and messy from the helmet. He gave her a charming grin as he approached.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. The interviews took longer than I thought they would." He said, sitting down next to Y/n on the couch.

"It's all good," Y/n replied with a smile. "At least you're free now, and we can go out and celebrate."

Lando leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms above his head. "Yeah, I'm all yours now. So, what's the plan for the night?"

Y/n stood up, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Alright, we're going out for drinks. I know a great bar nearby that has the best cocktails. Sound good?"

Lando groaned as she grabbed his wrist, pulling him up from the couch. "Hey, can a guy get a little break after winning a Grand Prix? I just sat down." He protested jokingly, feigning resistance.

Y/n just laughed, not releasing her grip on his wrist. "Nope, no breaks. We're going out to celebrate. Come on, get up." She tugged him lightly, urging him to follow her.

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Fine, fine. I'll come, but only because you're practically dragging me out the door." He grumbled dramatically.

She smiled as she led Lando out of the hotel, still holding onto his wrist. "And the bar is just a few minutes walk from here, so it's not far," she said, glancing at him. "Plus, some fresh air will do you good. You probably need to clear your head from all those interviews, anyway."

Lando huffed in agreement, secretly enjoying the feeling of her holding onto him. "Yeah, the interviews were exhausting. I swear, they ask the same damn questions every time. I could give all the answers in my sleep at this point."

Y/n chuckled, giving his wrist a playful tug. "Don't get yourself too worked up. We're here to have fun tonight, remember? No thinking about interviews or racing or any of that stuff."

Lando smiled, nodding in agreement. "You're right, you're right. Tonight is all about letting loose and celebrating. No work, no racing… just us and some good drinks."

She grinned at that, and they continued walking until they reached the bar. The place was buzzing with energy, music could be heard from inside, and the neon signs above the door flickered alluringly.

Lando gazed at the bar, seeing the lively atmosphere within. "Looks like this place is popular," he commented, looking down at Y/n. "How did you even find this place, anyway?"

Y/n looked up at Lando, a smile on her lips as she answered his question. "Oh, I came here with Alexandra for a girls' night out a few months ago. It's a pretty cool spot. Good drinks and good music."

Lando raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you've already been here? And you didn't tell me about it until now?" He feigned indignation, giving her a playful nudge with his elbow.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, a playful smirk on her face. "Hey, it's not my fault you were partying it up in Ibiza while I was here in Singapore. You weren't exactly available for bar hopping."

Lando chuckled at that, conceding her point. "Alright, alright, fair enough. I was having a blast in Ibiza, but I guess I missed out on some good bars here in Singapore."

Y/n gave Lando a teasing smile before guiding him into the bar. The music inside was even more vibrant, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air. They found a spot at the bar, and Y/n gestured for Lando to sit down next to her.

Lando took a seat on the barstool next to Y/n, glancing around the place. The bar was dimly lit, with colorful lights casting a warm, inviting glow over everything. People were gathered around, chatting and enjoying their drinks, adding to the lively atmosphere.

Y/n called the bartender over and ordered a cocktail for herself. Then, she turned to Lando and asked, "What do you want to drink? Something strong, or something a bit fancier?"

He contemplated for a moment, leaning against the bar. "Hmm, I'm feeling like something classic tonight. I think I'll go with a gin and tonic."

She nodded, relaying Lando's order to the bartender. "One gin and tonic for the grand prix winner, please," Y/n said with a smile. The bartender nodded and began preparing their orders.

Lando chuckled at Y/n's remark, his ego slightly boosted. "You know, I could get used to you calling me a grand prix winner." He said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Y/n chuckled and rolled her eyes at Lando's comment. "Oh, come on. This isn't your first win, Norris. You've won two races before this one, remember?"

He glanced at Y/n, a sly smile on his lips. "Yeah, but this time it's different. You were actually here to witness my win. And I must say, it felt fucking good."

Y/n smiled mischievously, deciding to tease Lando a bit. She leaned closer to him, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, I see what's going on here. You have such a huge crush on me, don't you?"

Lando chuckled at her remark and responded with a hint of banter, "Hey, hey, that was high school, alright? We're adults now. We've moved on and grown past all that silly crush stuff."

Y/n chuckled as well, enjoying their playful banter. "Is that so? So you're saying you don't have a crush on me anymore?" She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile on her face.

He rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a nonchalant expression. "Yeah, yeah, I've totally moved on. No more silly crushes here." He took a sip of his gin and tonic, clearly not fooling Y/n for a second.

She just smiled, not believing him for a moment. She knew Lando well enough to know that he was just playing tough. "Uh-huh, sure you have. And the moon is made of cheese, right? And pigs can fly."

Lando huffed in mock indignation, trying to keep up his act. "Hey, I'll have you know, I'm a sophisticated man now. I don't have crushes like some high school kid. That's all in the past."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh loudly at Lando's statement. "Oh, because those flings totally prove you're over crushes and completely sophisticated now, right?" She teased with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her sarcasm. "Alright, alright, fine. Maybe I've had a few flings and whatnot, but that doesn't prove anything. That's just casual stuff, not the same as having a crush."

She grinned and rolled her eyes again, amused by Lando's attempts to deny his feelings. "Oh, c'mon, finish your drink. We're here here to celebrate and let loose. Let's go out there and dance a little, shall we?"

Lando downed the rest of his gin and tonic with a smirk. "Alright, alright, you've convinced me. Let's go dance." He stood up from his barstool, offering a hand to Y/n.

Y/n took his hand with a smile and hopped off her own barstool, following Lando toward the dance floor of the bar. The music was pumping, the lights were flashing, and a group of people were already dancing on the floor.

He led her into the midst of the dance floor, finding a spot for them to dance. As the music played, they both started swaying and moving to the beat. With each step and move, their bodies would occasionally brush against each other, sending sparks of electricity through them.

She could feel her pulse quickening as she danced with Lando. Their bodies moved in sync with the music, each step bringing them closer together. The atmosphere was electrifying with Lando so close, the heat between them undeniable

Lando's fingers gently traced small circles on her hip, the touch sending shivers down her spine. The music and the people around them seemed to fade into the background as they swayed together, their eyes locked onto each other.

He couldn't resist pulling her even closer, their bodies now pressed against each other. Lando's arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place as they continued to move to the music. Her scent, the way she felt against him, it was driving him wild.

Lando's lips, hot and needy, began to trail kisses down her neck, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. Everywhere his lips touched sent a rush of heat through her body, a small gasp escaping her lips.

His tongue darted out, tracing a path along her sensitive skin, his lips alternating between soft kisses and lingering nibbles. The sensation was maddening, her mind clouding with desire as he continued his exploration of her neck.

A soft moan escaped Y/n's lips as Lando continued his assault on her neck. Her hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt, her body arching against his. "L-Lando," she gasped softly, her voice filled with a mixture of need and desire.

Y/n's words were barely above a whisper, her voice hoarse with need. "Not here," she repeated, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. Lando had the exact same thought running through his mind.

Lando pulled back reluctantly, his lips leaving her neck with a final lingering kiss. He looked at her, his eyes darkened with lust, taking in her flushed cheeks and the way she was gripping his shirt. He knew exactly what she meant, and the same need was burning through him.

"Let's go," Lando murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He took her hand in his, the skin-to-skin contact sending another jolt of electricity through them.

The two of them practically sprinted out of the bar, the cool night air doing little to cool their ardor. The hotel wasn't far, but the short walk felt like an eternity as their bodies practically ached with desire.

They reached the hotel lobby, their breaths coming out in slightly ragged pants. Lando led Y/n towards the elevator, practically hitting the button to call it impatiently. As they waited, Lando turned towards Y/n, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and need.

As the elevator doors open, Lando gently shoved Y/n into the elevator with the doors quickly closing behind them. As the elevator began to move upwards, Lando backed her against the wall of the elevator, trapping her between his body and the cold metal.

Lando wasted no time, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss. His hands came up to cup her face, holding her in place as his tongue darted out to trace the seam of her lips.

The kiss grew more intense, and Y/n found herself responding to him. Her body melted against his, her hands gripping his shoulders as a soft moan escaped her lips. "Lando…" she whispered, her voice filled with need.

The elevator continued to ascend, and Y/n's mind was clouded with need. Lando's lips left hers briefly, only to blaze a trail of hot kisses down her neck. She found herself arching against him, whispering "More…please" as her body ached for his touch.

Lando seemed encouraged by her pleading, his hands roaming her body as his lips continued their assault on her neck. He pressed his body against hers, his hips slowly rutting against her in a teasing rhythm.

"Gods, you're driving me crazy," Lando muttered, his voice hoarse with desire. His hands moved lower, cupping her hips and pulling her impossibly close so they were flush against each other.

Lando grudgingly pulled back, reluctantly detaching his mouth from Y/N's neck. The elevator doors opened with a soft 'ding,' signaling they had reached his floor. Lando stepped back, reluctantly removing his hands from her hips.

His eyes burned as he looked at her; her lips slightly swollen, skin flushed, and hair disheveled. The sight of her sent another jolt of need through him, but he managed to resist the urge to pull her back into his arms. Instead, he gestured for her to follow him down the hallway towards his hotel room.

Lando fumbled with the key card, opening the door to his room. He ushered Y/N inside, his eyes never leaving her. The moment the door shut behind them, Lando pushed Y/N against it, and the sound of the door slamming echoed in the quiet room.

His body pressed against hers, trapping her between the cool wood of the door and his warm, solid frame. His hands found her wrists, pinning them above her head as his lips crashed against hers in a passionate, bruising kiss.

Y/n and Lando were both feeling the effects of the alcohol they had consumed earlier that night. Their inhibitions lowered, they found themselves drawn to each other, their bodies pressed close together as they made out passionately against the door.

Y/n's heart raced as Lando's lips met hers, their tongues entwining in a sensual dance. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, his strong hands roaming over her curves. The sensation sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

Lando's hands slid down to Y/n's hips, pulling her even closer to him. He could feel her soft breasts pressing against his chest, and it only fueled his desire for her. His lips trailed down to her neck, leaving a path of hot kisses along her skin.

Y/n tilted her head back, giving Lando better access to her sensitive neck. She could feel his teeth grazing her skin, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through her body. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, holding him close as he continued his assault on her senses.

Lando's strong arms easily lifted Y/n, carrying her over to the nearby bed. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he laid her down gently on the soft mattress. The movement caused her short dress to ride up, revealing the tantalizing sight of her light blue lace panties.

Lando's breath caught in his throat at the erotic view. He drank in the sight of Y/n's long, toned legs and the delicate fabric barely covering her most intimate area. Desire coursed through his veins, his arousal growing with each passing second.

Y/n looked up at Lando with lust-filled eyes, a coy smile playing on her lips. She could see the hunger in his gaze as it roamed over her body. Slowly, teasingly, she reached down and hooked her fingers in the waistband of her panties.

"Do you like what you see, Lando?" Y/n purred, her voice low and seductive. She slowly started to slide the lace down her legs, revealing more of her smooth, creamy skin, before putting them back on teasingly.

Lando knelt before Y/n, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he leaned in to leave a trail of hot kisses along her smooth skin. "God, I fucking love this view," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You're so pretty, so perfect."

Y/n shivered with anticipation as Lando's lips moved higher and higher up her thighs. She could feel the heat of his breath on her sensitive skin, and it only heightened her arousal. Her fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him closer to her aching core.

Lando's fingers hooked into the waistband of Y/n's panties, slowly pulling them down and off her legs. He tossed them aside, his eyes feasting on the glistening wetness between her thighs. "You're so wet for me, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

Unable to resist any longer, Lando leaned in and ran his tongue along Y/n's slit, savoring the taste of her arousal. She let out a gasp, her hips bucking against his face as he continued to explore her most intimate area with his tongue.

Y/n's moans grew louder and more frequent as Lando devoured her like a man starved. His tongue delved deep into her dripping folds, lapping up her arousal. He alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks against her sensitive clit, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Oh god, Lando! Yes, just like that!" Y/n cried out, her voice trembling with ecstasy. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him firmly against her as she ground her hips against his face. The obscene sounds of his mouth on her pussy filled the room, mixing with her moans.

Lando groaned against her, the vibrations adding to her pleasure. He could feel her thighs beginning to quiver and tense around his head, signaling her impending release. Determined to bring her over the edge, he redoubled his efforts, sucking hard on her clit as he thrust two fingers deep inside her tight cunt.

Y/n's eyes flew open as she felt Lando's fingers suddenly plunge into her wet heat. She looked down at him, her eyes wide and filled with shock and arousal. Their gazes locked, and the intensity of the moment sent a jolt of electricity through her body.

Lando's fingers pumped in and out of her, curling to hit that special spot inside her that made her see stars. His thumb rubbed circles on her clit, the dual stimulation pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

"Eyes on me, baby," he commanded, his voice muffled against her sensitive flesh. "I want to see your face when you cum."

Y/n's breath came in short, sharp gasps as Lando's fingers worked their magic inside her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, the connection between them only heightening her pleasure. Her body tensed, the coil of tension in her lower belly winding tighter and tighter.

Lando could sense her impending orgasm, and he doubled down on his efforts. He sucked hard on her clit, his fingers pumping furiously in and out of her dripping cunt. He wanted to feel her come undone, to watch her face as she lost herself in the throes of passion.

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, Y/n finally reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her back arching off the bed as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over her. "Lando!" she screamed, his name falling from her lips like a prayer.

Lando continued to work her through her orgasm, his fingers and tongue bringing her down from the high. As her body went limp, he pulled back and looked up at her with a satisfied grin. "That's it, baby."

Lando stood up, his face glistening with Y/n's juices. His eyes were dark with lust, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. With a growl, he quickly stripped off his clothes, tossing them haphazardly on the floor until he stood before her completely naked.

Y/n's gaze roamed over his muscular body, taking in every inch of his tanned skin and hard planes. Her eyes zeroed in on his impressive erection, standing proud and ready. She licked her lips, already craving more of him.

Lando climbed onto the bed, crawling over Y/n's prone form. He hovered above her, his hips nestled between her thighs. "I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "I need to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock."

Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, using her heels to urge him closer. "Then take me," she breathed, her nails raking down his back. "Fuck me hard, Lando. Make me yours."

Lando positioned himself at Y/n's entrance, the head of his cock teasing her slick folds. He could feel the heat emanating from her core, beckoning him to plunge into her depths. With a swift thrust of his hips, he buried himself inside her, groaning at the exquisite sensation of her tight walls enveloping him.

"Oh fuck, you feel amazing," Lando grunted, his hands gripping her hips as he began to move. He set a relentless pace, his thick cock stretching and filling her with each powerful thrust.

Y/n's head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed as she reveled in the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed by Lando. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her hips rising to meet his every stroke. "Yes, just like that!" she cried out, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation.

Lando's thrusts grew harder and faster, his balls slapping against her ass as he drove into her again and again. He could feel her tightening around him, her body responding to his every move. "You're so fucking tight," he growled, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching off the bed as her second orgasm crashed over her. "Oh god, Lando! I'm cumming!" she screamed, her walls clamping down around his throbbing cock.

The sensation of her coming undone around him pushed Lando over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he released his load. But instead of staying inside her, he pulled out at the last moment, his hot seed spurting onto her stomach and breasts.

"Fuck, Y/n," Lando groaned, his hips jerking as he emptied himself onto her. Pulling out, he watched as his cum coated her skin, marking her as his.

Barely giving Y/n a moment to catch her breath, Lando lifted her up. His strong hands gripped her hips, lifting her up and positioning her so that she was straddling his face. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled, his voice muffled against her dripping folds.

Y/n gasped as she felt Lando's tongue delve into her sensitive cunt, his lips and teeth nipping at her swollen clit. Her hands braced against the headboard, her body already trembling with renewed arousal.

Lando's hands gripped her ass, spreading her open for him as he devoured her like a man possessed. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Lando!" Y/n cried out, her hips grinding against his face. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.

Y/n's eyes drifted down to Lando's cock, still rock hard and glistening with their combined juices. A wicked grin spread across her face as she leaned down, her breasts pressing against his thighs as she brought her lips to the tip of his member.

She placed a soft kiss on the head, her tongue darting out to lap up the drops of precum. Lando groaned against her pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Encouraged by his reaction, Y/n took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth.

In the 69 position, they pleasured each other with reckless abandon. Y/n bobbed her head up and down his shaft, taking him deeper into her throat with each pass. Lando's tongue delved into her folds, lapping up her sweet nectar as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

As Lando's tongue worked its magic on Y/n's sensitive clit, she could feel her orgasm building rapidly. Her hips bucked against his face, her moans muffled by his thick cock filling her mouth. She took him deeper, her throat constricting around him as she gagged on his length.

Lando's own pleasure mounted, his cock twitching in Y/n's mouth as he approached his climax. He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling with the force of her impending release. With a final, powerful thrust of his tongue, he sent her over the edge.

Y/n's scream of ecstasy was cut off by Lando's cock as he erupted in her mouth. Her eyes watered, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to swallow his hot seed. The sensation of his cum hitting the back of her throat only intensified her own orgasm, her body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

Lando's insatiable desire for Y/n showed no signs of abating. As they both came down from their intense orgasms, he pulled her off his body, repositioning her so that she was straddling him. He leaned back against the headboard, his hands gripping her hips as he guided her onto his still-hard cock.

"Ride me, baby," Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel you bouncing on my dick."

Y/n's body was still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, her eyes glazed over with a mix of pleasure and exhaustion. She placed her hands on his chest for balance, slowly lowering herself onto his throbbing member. A soft gasp escaped her lips as he stretched her once again, filling her completely.

She began to move, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples as she rode him. The combination of pain and pleasure only served to heighten her arousal, her walls clenching around him with each thrust.

Y/n's movements became more erratic, her body struggling to keep up with the relentless pace Lando had set. "I can't... I can't take anymore," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Be a good girl f' me," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I know you can take another round."

Tears streamed down Y/n's face as she tried to comply with his demands. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief. But the thought of letting Lando down was too much to bear. She gritted her teeth, pushing through the pain and exhaustion as she continued to ride him.

Lando could sense her struggle, but he refused to relent. He wanted to push her to her limits, to see just how much she could take. His cock throbbed inside her, the sensation of her tight walls clenching around him driving him closer to the edge.

Despite her exhaustion, Y/n found the strength to continue riding Lando's cock. Her hips moved in a steady rhythm, rising and falling as she took him deep inside her. The pain and pleasure mixed together, creating a heady cocktail that left her dizzy with sensation.

Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing and kneading her soft flesh. He pinched her nipples, twisting them slightly as he watched her face contort with a mix of pain and pleasure. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Take it all for me."

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body trembling with the effort of keeping up with Lando's relentless pace. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.

Lando could sense her impending release, and he doubled his efforts. His hips bucked up to meet her downward thrusts, his cock hitting that special spot inside her that made her see stars. "Cum for me, Y/n," he demanded, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching as she felt her orgasm approaching. She gritted her teeth, pushing herself to the limit as she rode Lando's cock with increasing fervor. Her walls began to flutter around him, signaling her imminent release.

"Oh god, Lando!" she cried out, her voice raw with emotion. "I'm going to cum!"

Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust up into her with powerful strokes. "That's it, baby," he growled, his own release building. "Let go for me. Cum all over my cock."

With a final, desperate thrust, Y/n reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her walls clamping down around Lando's throbbing member as she came undone. The sensation of her tightening around him was too much for Lando to bear, and with a guttural groan, he erupted inside her, his hot seed filling her with each powerful pulse.

As they both came down from their intense orgasms, Lando leaned forward, capturing Y/n's lips in a passionate kiss. His hands caressed her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that still clung to her lashes. "You did so good, baby," he murmured against her lips. "I'm so proud of you."

Y/n's body went limp, her head resting on Lando's shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel his cock still inside her, softening but not yet fully withdrawn. The sensation was comforting, a reminder of the incredible pleasure they had just shared.

Lando continued to pepper her face with gentle kisses, his lips trailing along her jawline and down her neck. "You're amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and affection.

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world

[cyripticchronicler]

Sooooo i need you to write more azriel becauseeeeee you are amazing at it and I adored healing

His Shadows

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: A disastrous date leads to an unexpected revelation: Azriel’s shadows aren’t just protective—they know the truth about the bond between you and him. Can you embrace the love you’ve always craved, or will fear hold you back?

TW: Kissing, one swear word

A/N: You ask and you shall receive! Ngl I love this fic so much!! Azriel longing has such a special place in my heart fr <3

Masterlist Azriel Masterlist

Azriel was sure he looked pathetic. He looked like a dog; wide, pouty eyes gazing at you longingly as he followed you around with desperate steps.

He was drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Your smile was the sun to his shadows, your laugh music to his silence. He loved how you talked to him - gentle and kind, like he weren’t a man carved from death and pain. 

Tonight was like no other. Stealing glances at you from across the dinner table, his heart was warm with adoration. You were absorbed in a conversation with Feyre, bright smile lighting up the room. Cassian was sitting next to him, chatting his ear away. He wasn’t paying attention, too enraptured by you and your colossal beauty. 

He wasn’t all that surprised when he felt the tug in his chest; a tug that led to you. Despite the suspicion that you were his mate - he’d never felt this comfortable around someone, so warm and fuzzy - he still felt the breath leave his lungs. His nervousness was unmistakable, breathing laboured and cheeks flushed. His heart was racing, his palms sweaty, and his shadows…his shadows were everywhere. 

They were swirling around his shoulders, darting towards you and wrapping around your hair as an invisible force attracted them. It was only when a shadow brushed against your cheek, so slow and caring, that he yanked his shadows back with a brutal force. 

“Az?” Cauldron, your voice was enough to bring him to his knees. Your head was tilted in concern and he knew if he looked around the table everyone would be wearing the same concerned look. 

“I-” His voice cracked, a rare slip in his usually perfect facade. “Sorry. I’m fine.” He wasn’t. And his shadows betrayed that as they reached out once again towards you as if wanting to confirm the bond was actually there. That it exists. 

He had to force them away from you once again, taking everything in him to stay in his seat when all he wanted to do was go down on his knees and beg for your love and acceptance of the bond.

 ๋࣭ ⭑

Azriel’s nervousness had amplified. It was embarrassing how his heart would stutter when you got too close. Or how his breathing would stop when you touched him in any way, even if it was a mere shoulder tap. 

His shadows, a lifelong companion, have betrayed him in ways unthinkable. They don’t listen. He can no longer trust them around you. Like now, you’re walking next to him, shoulders brushing against his own as you talk about your latest mission for the Night Court. 

Your conversation was momentarily interrupted as someone’s arm bumps harshly into yours. Azriel’s eyes narrow in a glare, instinctively wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. 

“I'm okay, don’t worry.” He looks down at the hand that’s found its way to his arm, squeezing it comfortingly. “Good. She didn’t even apologise.” Azriel would like to blame the mating bond for his protectiveness, but, truthfully, he’d been this protective before the bond even snapped. 

You started walking, smiling once again. Azriel could still feel the anger boiling in his gut, his attentive eyes noting the shadows that swirled around your ankles, watching with a grimace as they continued to rise and slowly envelope you in darkness. 

Return to me. 

They rise quicker, your legs hidden. You’ve stopped in your tracks, eyes flitting up to look at Azriel curiously. 

Return to me. Now.

They wrap around your waist and you move away from the busy sidewalk. “Azriel? What’s going on?” He grits his teeth, your voice an echo in his head as he tries to regain his composure. 

Listen. Return.

They begin to wrap around your arms, almost your whole body shrouded in darkness. Your eyes, thankfully not panicked, scour the streets, looking for the danger that could explain why Azriel’s shadows were acting up. 

Enough. Go. 

His shadows hesitated around your frame, the icy chill of Azriel’s voice reminding them who their commander was. One by one, Azriel watched them slip away and into the darkness, banished into a space where they couldn’t interact with him or anyone else for the time being. 

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” His voice was raw, cheeks flushing and eyes moving everywhere but your own. Your smile is filled with adoration and understanding. Azriel was too blinded by his nervousness to see it. “It’s okay. Let’s go get lunch.”

 ๋࣭ ⭑

Azriel was going crazy. Sitting in the corner of the room, his hands clench and unclench as he watches you. The dim lighting in the living room does enough to hide Azriels shadows from everyone else. 

The moment you entered the room, his heart rate picked up and his shadows sharted flitting around the room erratically. Since then, he’s attempted to momentarily ignore you in a desperate hope to slow the beating of his heart and leash his shadows. 

“How…is your garden going? Did you plant those Dasies you got?” Azriel mutters distractedly, eyes still on you even as he talks to Elain. Her candy-like voice reaches his ears and he forces himself to look at her. 

“My garden’s going well! The daises really suit the rest of the garden. The white is a nice contrast with the buttercups-”

“Azriel, what the fuck?” Cassian’s confused voice cuts Elain off from her passionate rambling, his head snapping to look at him from where he sits next to you, hand raised above your shoulder like he was about to touch you. 

But he can’t. Azriel’s eyes move from Cassian's confused, worried ones and down his arm to watch the shadows swirl around his arm and hand. The shadows are physically preventing Cassian from placing his hand on your shoulder. They wrap around tighter and tighter until Cassian’s face twitches in pain. 

“You’re gonna have to explain this, Az,” Cassian teases, shaking out his arm. His voice was light, but his eyes flickered with genuine concern.

“Enough,” He muttered through clenched teeth, voice low in command. The trembling shadows obeyed, shooting away from Cassian's figure and back to Azriel, swirling around his ear as they whispered apologies in hopes of subduing the anger of their master. 

They don’t stay by him for long, Azriel’s nervousness growing as the eyes of his family lock onto him. His shadows reflect his anxiety, darting from corners of the room and swirling around bodies. As a shadow twirls around Rhysand’s neck once again, Azriel stands up abruptly. 

“I need to go,” Is all he mutters before leaving for the House of Wind with a brutal tug on his shadows, ensuring they follow his orders. 

What in the cauldron was wrong with him?

  ๋࣭ ⭑

“What’s wrong with you?” The question quite literally stuns Azriel in silence. He’d been locked up in his room for days now, trying meditating tactics to calm his shadows - even going to Madja to see if she could help in any way. She couldn’t. He hadn’t seen you in days, and, despite the desperate longing in his chest, he’d rather it be that he doesn’t see you instead of embarrassing himself. Again. 

You’d grown worried in his absence, constantly asking your family if they’d heard from him. Cassian had grown sick of your constant questions and offered to fly you up to the House of Wind himself. 

You had happily taken him up on the offer, leading to you now standing in Azriels room, hands on your hips as you inspect his tense stance and flushed cheeks. “What’s wrong?” You repeat again, eyes narrowed as his shadows leave his side, seemingly darker than usual.

You’re still not used to how vulnerable he looks when his shadows aren’t around him. He looks so lost, hands fidgeting in front of him while his wide, brown eyes watch as his shadows leave him. 

“Nothing’s wrong…My shadows are just acting up.” His eyes flit to the ground, folding his arms against his chest to stop his nervous fidgeting. “I’m sorry if I’ve been worrying you. I just needed to figure out what’s wrong with them.”

You smile apologetically, pulling him into a hug so you can feel his warm body against yours. Warmth coats your skin and you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying something stupid like ‘I love you.’ 

A shadow slinking up the wall catches your eye. “Um…” You mutter, still hugging him tightly. “I didn’t know your shadows could create shapes and stuff.” You feel him pull away, albeit hesitantly. He turns to look at where you’re pointing, a quiet curse slipping from his lips. 

There, against the wall, rests a lone shadow, the darkness taking the form of a clawed hand, desperately reaching out to your own shadow, formed by the dim fae lights. It’s almost sad how it fights to get closer, yanking at invisible chains, stretching its long fingers in an attempt to touch you. 

Azriel sucks in a sharp breath, placing a strict yet gentle hand on your back and slowly pushing you out of his room, all the while rambling. “I don’t know what’s happening.” Push. “You need to leave.” Push. “-what?-”  “I’ll talk to you later.” Push.  “-wait-” With one more push, you’re standing outside his room. 

You nod in defeat, your protests ignored.  “I’ll come and see you after my date tomorrow night.” He quite literally freezes in the doorway. “Date?” Before you can say anything, his shadows swarm around behind him, slinking behind gaps to reach you. The swarm around his wings, the darkest they’ve ever been. They seem to lash out, yanking at his hair. 

He slams the door before the shadows can reach you. A quiet curse and thump is heard from the other side. You can faintly see a shadow slithering between the gap in the door before it’s yanked back. 

Oh. Your heart is still racing at what just happened. He’s left you standing there in a pool of nervousness, anxious fingers attacking your nails as you debate whether or not you should knock on the door and ask if he’s okay. 

You decide against it. 

  ๋࣭ ⭑

The evening was interesting enough. The good-looking male was nothing short of kind. He had opened doors for you, pulled out your chair and bought you flowers. The warm glow of the candles at each table along with the gentle jazz music helped put your mind at ease, despite being on a date with a man you knew you could never truly love. 

You smile politely at the male's joke, sipping your wine, knowing deep in your heart that something is missing. Azriel had stolen your heart years ago, practically yanked it out of your chest and refused to return it. No matter how many males you talk to or sleep with, no one could replace him. 

“So you work for the High Lord and High Lady?” He asks curiously. You nod, playing with your food. “Yeah, I have a range of roles but I’m mostly a diplomat.” His smile was kind and attentive, nodding along as a sign for you to keep talking. “I-It’s a fun job. They’re like my family and I’d do anything for them.” 

“I have a feeling you’d do anything for a lot of people, wouldn’t you? You seem sweet.” His hand reaches out, fingers gently grazing yours before completely holding your hand, fingers lacing between yours. 

His hand feels weird. Too soft. You crave the rough scars that should be grazing against your palm. The tight way Azriel holds your hand (when he dares to; usually with the excuse that you’re in danger). 

“Thank you-”

The air shift is subtle but you notice it almost immediately. The temperature dropped, a chill slinking up your spine despite the warmth of the restaurant. You glance around, suddenly aware of how shadows deepen in the corners of the room. 

“Do you want my jacket?” Your date asks, brows furrowing as he notes the goosebumps trailing up your arm. “No. Thank you.” You smile, trying to return your attention back to the conversation at hand but it's captured by the flickering light in front of you. The flame of the candle danced erratically, as though it was caught in an invisible wind. 

Then you felt it. 

A wisp of darkness slipped between you and your date's hand. You gasp, yanking your hand back to your side with a speeding heart. The shadow didn’t stay away from you for long, slithering around your wrist tightly and anchoring itself to you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, leaning closer and inspecting your face. You nod, laughing awkwardly. “Yeah, everything’s fine-”

Before you could finish your sentence, the shadows surge. 

First, they twist around your ankle, raising up and up until your legs feel trapped, so tightly surrounded by shadows it feels restricting. Then they move to your arms, twisting until you can barely move them, pressed to your side and unwilling to move. 

“I- I need to go. I’m sorry.” Panic ceases as you struggle to stand, your heart beating faster while the shadows grip tighter. You ignore the protests of your date, sending an apologetic smile while you walk out, the shadows loosening up enough for you to move your legs. 

Though they loosen around your legs, their grip on your arms grows tighter by the minute. It’s constricting, suffocating even. As you scavenge to find the leader of these shadows, your panic worsens. You. Can’t. Move. Your. Arms. 

You search the bustling streets for any sign of Azriel, figuring he’d be close since his shadows were. But, after ten minutes of looking, and fresh rain dripping down your clothes, you try to find another way. 

You lift your arm to your mouth, whispering desperately, “Get Azriel.” The shadow shoots away in seconds, rushing off into the distance while you find a bench to sit on, uncaring of the rain that pours freely. 

After a few minutes of waiting in the cool rain, the loud flap of wings is the first of Azriel to greet you. Next, it's the shout of your name as he rushes towards you. He abruptly stops in front of you, eyes blown wide as he takes in the sight of his shadows slithering over your body like a snake. 

“What-”

“Get them off. I can barely feel my arms.” Your glare is lethal, the numb feeling in your arms getting stronger. His eyebrows furrow in worry, eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to focus. “Stop.” 

Everything halts at once. The shadows stop moving, returning to their owner hesitantly. “I am-” He shakes his head, any ounce of frustration leaving his body as soon as his eyes meet yours. “I am so sorry. They’ve been so out of control recently. I was so absorbed in my own thoughts I didn’t even notice they were gone.”

“They interrupted-”

“Calduron, did they hurt you? I’m so sorry-"

“-Stop Azriel.” He halts, eyes looking down in shame. “This whole thing has been getting out of hand. I was on a date, Azriel. What’s going on? This has never happened before.” You place a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look into your eyes as he speaks. 

“I’m really sorry. I hope they didn’t hurt you. They’ve been acting up ever since the mating bond snapped and I don't know how to control it- They get so protective over you because I feel so protective. I’m trying to control it, I just think, because the bond just recently snapped they’re unsure of how to act around you-”

“The what now?” Your breathing stutters, your voice cracking in nervousness as you try to absorb everything he just said. Mating bond? He’s your mate? The one you’ve loved for so long is your mate?

“The-” He steps away, flinching when he processes what he’s said. Turning his back to you, he looks the part of a fallen angel, wings drooped, shoulders hunched while rain drips down his wings. “The mating bond,” he whispers in defeat. 

You take a slow, timid step towards him. “The mating bond?” Your heart skips a beat, breathing ragged as a strange feeling warms your chest. A phantom string tugs at your heart, connecting you to your one true love. “The mating bond.” You say more confidently, a tentative hand reaching out to touch Azriel’s shoulder.  

His back relaxes at your touch, head moving to look at you over his muscled shoulder. “I need you. So badly. I need you like the air I breathe. Please, if you’re going to turn me down do it quickly.”

You shake your head, shaking hand moving to his chin, turning him so he’s facing you. “Who says I don’t need you the way you need me? I’ve loved you for so long. I’m ecstatic to be your mate?” 

Rain drips from his hair and down his nose. You quickly wipe it away. His scarred hands move to your cheeks and he does the same for you, brushing the rain away from your face like he were protecting a precious painting. 

“You love me?” His eyes, so filled with love and hope have your heart melting. 

“Of course I do, honey.” 

“I love you too.” 

You smile, heart so full you feel like it could burst. “Then kiss me.” 

He does just that, warm, soft lips grazing against yours cautiously. He pulls away, eyes looking into yours. When he sees nothing but glee, he dips his head to kiss you again, this time more ferociously. All the longing and desperation he had been withholding leaked out in one kiss, the cold rain barely noticed in the warmth of the kiss. 

He pulls away, gasping for breath as his forehead falls against yours. Shadows return once again, trailing up your back, through your hair and wrapping around your arms causing you to gasp. “You're mine,” He mutters. 

“I’m yours.”

The shadows dance in joy. 

[hanasnx]

“ I CAN FEEL IT, CAN YOU FEEL IT, THERE MUST BE SOMETHING IN THE AIR ” — rafe cameron.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: kinktober; takes place in obx s4 e1 but there’s a slight change; also happy birthday @princessbrunette :) i wrote this for you in mind; and based off of the scene in f&f where dom picks letty up calling her his trophy. WARNINGS: spoiler warning for obx season 4 episode 1 ノ non canon compliant: i made rafe win the race ノ size difference ノ established relationship ノ objectification ノ impact play: ass smack ノ mild exhibitionism bcos of pda ノ praise ノ sexual content: p in v stuff ノ dirty talk.

Your feet sink into the sand as you traipse alongside RAFE CAMERON to his station in the race. His large hand envelopes yours, keeping you balanced as he leads you to his bike. The roar of revving fills your ears, loud enough for your boyfriend to have to lean down to your level to speak to you, walking you through the process and your role here. You’ve never been a flag girl before, but he told you she needs to be a “hot piece of ass” and he wants these boys heads still spinning when he wins the race. As a distraction, you were the only girl he wanted for the job.

“… and all you gotta do, baby, is make sure those guys are lookin’ at you. Show off a little something—just this once, I don’t care.” he explains, and you nod your head while brushing your hair out of your face from the wind. The two of you stand aside his bike and he mounts it, swinging a long leg over it. It creaks from his weight, and you roll your tongue between your lips. Without sunglasses, his gaze is narrowed, meeting yours in the light as he tugs you closer to him. “You look good. Prettiest girl on Figure Eight.” he assures you, the corner of his lips quirked as he checks you out. The tiniest booty shorts you could find and a stringy bikini top, you looked good enough to eat. If Rafe wasn’t so concerned with crossing the finish line while these cucks were still drooling over you, he’d be a little jealous they get such a treat. “Man, you are eye candy. Give me a twirl, c’mon.”

It eases your nerves, grinning bashfully to yourself as he raises your hand over your head, twisting on your toes to show him your outfit. He bites his lower lip hard at the sight of the underside of your ass hanging out of your shorts, and he can’t help but give you a tap. You whirl around from the swat, and catch his eyes flash up.

“Mm, baby.” he exclaims, talking about you like you’re dessert and he’s got a sweet tooth. He doesn’t give you a chance to scold him for smacking your ass around all these people, “C’mere,” he murmurs, yanking you to him until your body is draped over him on his bike. Your manicured nails brace on his chest while he steals a kiss, humming in surprise at him when he tilts his head to deepen it. Takes advantage of your parted lips to slide his tongue along yours in a proper good-luck-kiss, which only makes for a string of spit to connect the two of you when you part. You breathe hard, chest rising and falling from thrill as you search his expression. There’s a glow of love-sickness in his eyes.

You try to milk more attention. “I don’t know if I can…” you begin, alluding to how shy you’re gonna be in front of all these people.

“Oh, don’t start that shit, you’re gonna be fine.” he dismisses, seeing right through you and shrugging you off him so you get it’s time to stop being clingy. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” He plucks his helmet up, and rounds his body to place it on his head while you reluctantly leave him.

When it’s time to start the race, you hold up two bandanas—donated by some guys trying to buy you drinks—and Rafe scoffs to himself, patting himself on the back for being such a genius. “Who wouldn’t be lookin’ at you?” he thinks, while he revs his bike. You even give the crowd a little shake, your girls strapped in your bikini top swinging teasingly right before you set them off with the bow of your bandanas and the low dip of your arch. Rafe could’ve sworn one guy glanced over his shoulder to check out your ass bent over because he lost control of his steering for a second after. The race was on, and you did your job exactly how your boyfriend wanted you to.

Some kook with too much time on his hands made his way through the crowd to invite himself into your atmosphere, watching you as you eagerly await Rafe’s return and your signal to drop the flags for the winner.

A voice too close to your ear alerts you, resulting in a minute jolt of your body when he speaks. “What are you doing after this?”

Brows furrow as you glance over your shoulder at him, “Oh, uh, I dunno right now.” you reply, but you’re not showing interest. It would depend on Rafe’s victory. You refocus, keeping an eye on the horizon and the roaring metal of competitive bikes. Rejoining the crowd’s enthusiasm, you react with them when someone wipes out.

“Me and the boys were gonna head to a kegger in the boneyard. You should come.” he tells you. Again, too close for your liking. He’s not particularly bad-looking, or grabby, but you don’t like how he’s standing right next to you and stooping to speak in your ear.

You face him again to respond, but the race takes your attention away, shutting your mouth to whirl around just in time to see Rafe drive back into view, sand kicking up behind his wheel.

After a close call, he wins, and when it’s safe, the adoring crowd cheers as it floods the scene to congratulate the riders. You’re one of them, beelining to Rafe without a second thought. He’s discarded his helmet, tossing it haphazardly to the sand as he meets you.

“Ah, there’s my trophy.” he says, hands clamping onto your waist to lift you from the ground. You squeal with delight, bracing on his shoulders and kicking your feet up. Slowly he lowers you until you can wrap your arms around his neck. He’s hot and sweaty, and smells like it too, inhaling his scent deeply as you embrace him and he spins you around. You’ve completely forgotten about that kook you left behind.

“Did so good, precious, did exactly what I told you to.” Rafe murmurs against your lips, whipping his bike jacket off behind him while you lead him by his jaw deeper into his place.

“Mhm, had to give them a show. Like you said.” you exhale, nodding fervently as you press yourself to him, desperate for some friction.

“Didn’t I say you’d be fine? Huh? What’d I say?” he goads, and stoops, signaling you to jump into his arms. He catches your legs, securing them around his waist before his hand cups your backside and his other pins you to him by the back of your neck.

“I did so good!” you reply, a little perkier than you’d meant to. It breaks him out into a grin against you, and he snickers through his nose. Bringing you to his bedroom, he settles your back onto the bed.

Lips locked, and bodies tangling together, he struggles to find a spare second to keep talking, “Gonna give me my prize? You gonna put out for the winner?” His hips surge, and a familiar hard outline sweeps across the crotch of your denim.

You nod, poking your tongue out in concentration as you help him to undress fully, and you wiggle out of your booty shorts. The peek of your tongue doesn’t go unnoticed, and Rafe’s lips overlays yours, sucking on the pink tip there toyingly. You relax into it, untensing them to melt into a real kiss as the tip of something else nudges against your sex. Already wet and aching from all the teasing today, you go limp at the promise of what’s to come. Bulging mushroom head lazily thumbing in and out of your slit makes your head throw back and jerk. “Rafe…” you whine. Sodden lips mouth at your cheek and jaw, working their way down to make out with your neck as his hips shallowly rut.

Ringed fingers clutch your face, tucking your chin in the web of his index and thumb. It faces you to him, and you look up at him with doe eyes and pretty brows in an upturn. He wants to watch your reactions as he pushes in deeper and deeper, finally sheathing as you cry out. It’s a stingy stretch, and he can see your want for it in the roll of your eyes and the flinch of your delicate expression. “Yeah, baby, gimme that trophy. That’s right.”

[daryltwdixon]

Joel Miller x Reader

Joel’s jealousy surfaces when he sees you getting invited to one of Robert's men's apartments in the QZ, and it pushes him to confront you and finally admit his feelings.

warnings: smut 18+ only, jealous/rough/possessive Joel. power play, orgasm denial, teasing, dirty talk

word count: ~5k

a/n: my first ever Joel fic :')

The heavy thrum of boots on cracked asphalt echoes as you weave through the busy streets of the Boston QZ, a bag slung over your shoulder. In your hand, a crumpled scrap of paper flutters slightly with your stride, the name and room number scrawled on it already smudged from your grip. You shouldn’t have taken it—every instinct screamed not to—but the man from Area 5 had made refusal impossible.

He’d raked his eyes over you like you were nothing more than a transaction, his smirk thick with implication. Still, you took the note, biting your tongue and clenching your fists to avoid giving Robert’s protection thugs another excuse to single you out.

The noise of the main street fades as you turn into quieter, more desolate alleys, the distant hum of generators and FEDRA radios filling the silence. The bag on your shoulder feels heavier now, the encounter lingering like grime under your skin.

Then, from the corner of your eye, you spot a figure in the shadows.

Joel Miller.

He’s leaning against a crumbling wall near the alley entrance, arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders cutting an imposing silhouette in the fading afternoon sun. His face is a mask of indifference, but his sharp eyes catch the smallest details, their weight pinning you in place.

Even in the gloom, you can feel the tension radiating from him like heat. That scowl—the one that promises nothing good—is set firmly in place, never smoothing from the lines of his face.

You almost roll your eyes at the look. Almost.

"Thought you’d be halfway to the docks by now," you say casually, brushing past him.

“Was,” Joel mutters, pushing off the wall. “Then I saw you chattin’ up that asshole.”

You freeze mid-step, your back to him, before turning around slowly. His eyes are dark, sharp like glass. There’s an edge to his tone you haven’t heard in a while.

“It was just a trade. And so what if I was?” you challenge, keeping your voice light, but there’s a flicker of tension you can’t quite hide.

Joel steps closer, his boots crunching the broken concrete. “So you’re workin’ deals with scum like him now?”

“You mean scum like us?” you fire back, crossing your arms. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission, Joel.”

His jaw tightens, the muscle twitching as he stares at you. “It ain’t about permission,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “You think he’s got your back? He’d sell you out for a can of peaches.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “And what? You’re here to protect me, is that it? Because last I checked, you’re not exactly the hero type.”

Joel’s hand twitches at his side, like he’s fighting the urge to reach for something—or maybe someone. “You think I don’t see it?” he snaps, his voice rising just enough to cut through the humid air. “Robert's usin' you, girl. Throwin' ya to the wolves and you just let them look at you like--”

Your eyes narrow, a hot flush creeping up your neck. “Look at me like what, Joel? Are you serious right now?”

“You’re damn right I am,” Joel growls, stepping closer until the space between you is as tight as the tension coiling in your chest, "You shouldn't be workin' with them. Ain't safe."

“Why do you care?” you ask, your voice quieter now as you search his face, the words slipping out before you can stop them. His broad shoulders envelop you, making you feel small and vulnerable in their shadow.

His mouth opens, but no words come out. Instead, he exhales sharply, like he’s trying to wrestle the truth back down before it escapes. His hand raises briefly, like he might touch you, but it drops just as quickly.

“Forget it,” he mutters, stepping back. “Do what you want.”

Your stomach twists as he turns away, the tension in your chest snapping before you realize what you’re doing. You grab his arm, your fingers curling around the worn fabric of his jacket.

“Joel, wait,” you say, the words coming out sharper than you intended.

He stops, stiff and unyielding, his head tilting slightly like he’s debating whether to face you. Slowly, he turns, his eyes locking on yours, dark and stormy, a barely restrained conflict simmering just beneath the surface.

“What?” he growls softly, his voice low and rough.

The words hang in the humid air between you, heavy and unspoken for too long. You should say something—anything—but your throat tightens, betraying you.

Joel steps forward, the space between you dwindling. His chest rises and falls, his breathing uneven, his eyes flickering to your lips. They part slightly, and when he moves in an inch, you suck in a breath, surprised but also...longing.

He’s so close now that the heat of him is impossible to ignore, his scent—sweat and leather and pine—filling your lungs. His gaze flickers to yours again, and for a heartbeat, you’re certain he’s going to close the gap. You can see the individual sprigs of hair that make up his beard now, which ones are gray and which have kept their darkness despite his age. The curve of his lips beneath the beard is intoxicating, a quiet lure that you can’t tear your eyes from. It takes everything in you not to give in, not to lean forward and close the aching space between you.

For a split second, you think he might be just as close to losing that battle. His breathing hitches, his fingers twitch at his side as though they ache to reach for you. But then his jaw tightens, his lips pressing into a hard line as he steps back, the tension snapping like a taut wire cut loose.

“Forget it,” he mutters, his voice low and jagged, before turning and walking away, leaving you there standing alone.

The crumpled note taunts you from where it’s sat for days on your kitchen table, the edges smoothed from you picking it up, staring at it, then tossing it back down. It’s ridiculous. You barely even want the man who gave it to you—certainly not with the way he’d looked at you like a piece of meat. But the thought lingers, an itch you can’t scratch. It’s been days.

Days since Joel. Since that moment in the alleyway when he’d almost—almost—crossed that invisible line, only to walk away and leave you in pieces. Him avoiding you, pretending you didn’t exist, and making himself scarce in any space you held. It was starting to leave an ache in you that you didn't realize you'd had for him.

You had never thought about Joel like that—

—now there was a damn lie.

You’d be kidding yourself if Joel’s broad, bulky figure didn’t creep into your thoughts late at night when you were all alone. But never had those thoughts been so intense as the past few nights, replaying what might’ve happened if he hadn’t stopped, if he’d kissed you against the brick wall of that alley.

But you couldn’t have Joel Miller. You wouldn’t allow it. Not the skulking asshole who was always sending jabs your way during jobs, overbearing and overprotective, acting like you couldn’t handle yourself. He had this infuriating way of thinking you needed saving, that he always had to be there, hovering just close enough to drive you insane.

Still, the note sits there, and something about its presence feels heavier than it should. You grab it, shoving it into your pocket with a frustrated sigh. It’s not like Joel has a claim on you. Hell, it’s not like you owe him anything after the way he walked away without looking back.

You won’t think about Joel. Not tonight.

But as you step into the dimly lit hallway and make your way toward the other man’s apartment, the little voice in the back of your mind pleads for you to knock on Joel's door instead.

The hallways of the old apartment block are dark, the overhead lights flickering in a familiar, uneven rhythm. Your steps echo faintly against the cracked tiles as you make your way toward the room number scribbled on the paper. Each step feels heavier than the last, and a gnawing doubt twists in your gut.

You pass by doors, most of them silent, others humming with muffled conversations or static from a radio. You’re so focused on pushing the brooding asshole from your mind that you don’t notice the door swinging open as you pass—not until his voice stops you cold.

“You really thinkin’ about goin’ to see that scumbag?”

You freeze, your pulse spiking as you turn to see Joel’s figure fill the doorway just a few steps behind you. His eyes bore into you, dark and smoldering with something between anger and disbelief. His large arms are braced against the doorframe, his shoulders cutting an imposing figure even in the dim light.

“Excuse me?” you say, your voice sharper than you intend, but it’s all you can manage to cover the flush creeping up your neck.

Joel steps forward, his expression hard, his gaze flicking down to the slight bulge in your pocket where the note sits. “Don’t play dumb,” he growls. “I know he lives on this floor. You goin' to see 'em?”

You bristle, your defenses slamming into place. “What does it matter to you?”

Joel takes a step closer, and even in the dim light, the tension in his jaw is unmistakable. “It matters,” he growls, his voice low and uneven, “because I know exactly what kinda bastard he is. And you don’t.”

You scoff, crossing your arms defensively. “What, you think I can’t handle myself?”

His lips twitch, just enough to make your blood boil. “Nah,” he says, the drawl in his voice sharper than usual, his words cutting. “I know you can’t, darlin’. Not with someone like him.”

The sweetness of that word—darlin’—wrapped in condescension is like a match to gasoline. Your blood ignites, the heat rushing up your neck as you step closer, closing the gap until you’re nearly chest to chest.

Your jaw tightens, your fists clenching at your sides as heat floods your cheeks. “You arrogant son of a bitch,” you snap, taking a step closer, your eyes locking onto his with a fire that matches his own, “You don’t get to stand there acting like you know what’s best for me.”

Joel doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch, though the flicker of something darker passes through his eyes. “I know more than you think,” he says quietly, his voice low and measured.

“Oh, really?” you shoot back, leaning in, your finger jabbing at his chest. “Then enlighten me, Joel. Tell me why it’s your problem if I decide to go to someone else. Because last I checked, you’ve been avoiding me for days."

His jaw tightens, his lips pressing into a hard line. “That's what you think this is? That I don't wanna be near you?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, rougher.

You scoff, leaning in closer, your voice dripping with challenge. “Damn straight. I think you’re scared.”

That does it. Joel lets out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head slightly. Then he leans in, his breath hot against your skin, his eyes locked on yours. “I ain’t scared of you, sugar,” he growls, his voice low, smooth, and cutting.

The nickname sends a jolt through you, not sweet like it should be but sharp, taunting. His words, the way his gaze lingers on you like he’s daring you to say something else, make your blood boil.

Before you can answer, he moves. His hand curls around your throat, tugging you forward until you’re almost flush against him. The heat of his skin is like an iron vice, firm but not cruel, and yet the sensation of it sends a shiver through you. Your breath hitches, your heart pounding in your chest as your hands fly up to steady themselves on him.

“You wanna know why I stayed away?” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, his voice rough.

Your heart nearly gallops in your chest as his hand releases your neck just to move up, cupping your face with a contrasting tenderness, his thumb brushing your face.

“I stayed away,” he continues, his lips nearly brushing the skin of your cheekbone, “’cause if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself."

The words wrap around you, pulling you under, and for a moment, the world narrows to just him—the rasp of his voice, the heat of his breath, the intensity in his eyes. Your hands instinctively grip the front of his shirt, grounding yourself in the feel of him.

“Then don’t stop," you whisper, the words trembling out of you like they’ve been waiting to escape.

Joel’s resolve snaps like a thread pulled too tight. His hand falls from your face to grab your wrist, pulling you into his apartment, the door slamming behind you with enough force to make the old hinges shake. The sound reverberates through the quiet space, but you barely register it before he pushes you up against the door.

His hands are at your waist first, gripping you tightly, his body crowding you like he’s trying to absorb every inch of space you hold. His lips crash against yours, rough and unrelenting, his kiss so consuming it leaves you breathless. There’s nothing gentle about it—there's a hunger, as though he’s been holding this back for far too long.

One of his hands moves upward, sliding into your hair. His fingers tangle at the nape of your neck, tightening into a firm fist. The pull sends your head back, exposing the line of your throat, and your lips part instinctively, a sharp whimper escaping before you can stop it.

The sound seems to spur him on. His lips break away from yours, trailing down to your jaw and lower still, finding the sensitive skin of your neck. His beard scrapes roughly against you, and the sharp contrast of his teeth grazing your skin sends a shiver down your spine.

“Joel—” Your voice falters as his lips press against your throat, his teeth scraping lightly before he nips at the soft flesh.

“Mmm," he hums, his voice muffled against your neck, "My name sounds so good on your pretty lips, baby." His hand on your waist grips you firmly, holding you in place as his lips and teeth move against you.

“You think I’d let some bastard like him have you?” he growls against your neck, his voice thick with frustration. “That anyone but me could have you?"

All you know how to do is whimper as you're clawing at his shoulders as he holds you brutally in place, your neck exposed to him as he bites down hard on the flesh of your shoulder, causing you to gasp in surprise.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, the coarse fabric of his shirt doing little to protect him from your frantic grip. He groans low in his throat at the sensation, the sound vibrating against your skin and making your knees weak.

“Shh, shh,” he coos, his voice softer now, pulling himself away just enough to look at you. His gaze drifts down to your flushed skin, the way your chest heaves with each labored breath, your pupils blown wide, and your lips parted.

His thumb brushes your jaw as he leans in, pecking your lips with a tenderness that feels like a stark contrast to the fire from moments ago. It’s soft, slow, making you mewl against his touch.

“I know, baby girl,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. His voice is so gentle now, so caressing and tender, it almost gives you whiplash it's so contrasting to the possessiveness of him, “Don’t ever make me watch you walk toward someone else again, you hear me?”

His hand loosens in your hair, the sharp tug easing into a comforting caress at the nape of your neck. You nod, swallowing hard as you try to catch your breath, your heart still pounding against your ribs.

Without hardly a warning, Joel’s lips crash back into yours, swallowing any words you might have spoken. His hand moves to your hip, gripping tightly as his body presses against yours, keeping you firmly against the door. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair cups gently at your jaw, tilting your head to allow him just the right angle for his tongue to slide into your wanting mouth.

Your hands slide beneath his shirt, exploring the warm, solid planes of his back, your nails scraping lightly against his skin. The sharp groan he lets out vibrates against your lips, his kiss growing rougher, more desperate.

His hands move with purpose now, one sliding under your shirt, the roughness of his calloused palm scorching a path up your side. The fabric bunches as he pushes it higher, his fingers grazing the edge of your ribs. His mouth leaves yours only to drag along your jaw and down your neck again, his teeth scraping just enough to make you gasp.

“Joel,” you whisper, the sound a mix of need and surrender, your head tilting back as his lips find your collarbone.

His hands tug at your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion before his mouth is back on yours. His kisses are ravenous as though he’s been starving for this. You tug at his shirt in return, your fingers fumbling slightly in your haste before he pulls away just long enough to yank it off himself, the muscles in his chest and arms flexing with the motion.

His groan rumbles against your lips as his hands roam your body, his calloused palms grazing your bare skin. He cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing until they pebble under his touch.

Eventually he lowers himself just enough to take a nipple into his mouth, his tongue swiping in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing a soft moan from your lips. The sensation has your fingers gripping his shoulders, keeping him close as he lavishes your skin with attention. He hums against you, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine as he switches to your other breast, giving it the same torturous care.

When he rolls your nipple between his teeth and sucks hard, your back arches off the door, a desperate moan escaping your throat. Your hands find their way into his hair, tugging at the soft strands, spurring him on.

When his fingers hook into the waistband of your jeans, he tugs them down in one smooth motion, the fabric pooling at your ankles. His gaze lifts to yours, and the way those dark, molten eyes bore into you makes your knees nearly give out.

He sinks to his knees with a quiet grunt, a faint crack from his joints drawing a flicker of a smile to your lips. But Joel doesn’t even flinch. His focus remains entirely on you, his large hands gripping your hips as he looks up at you, the sight alone enough to leave you breathless.

Joel Miller, on his knees.

For you.

His lips press to your hips, then the tops of your thighs, his beard scraping deliciously against your skin. He moves slowly, purposefully, savoring every inch of you as if he has all the time in the world. When he finally plants a kiss on your clothed mound, starting at the pubic bone and moving lower, your breath catches.

“Joel—” you plead again, like it’s the only word you know. Your brain feels like mush as he pulls your leg over his shoulder, his nose pressing against your panty-clad center, inhaling deeply.

“Knew you’d be so good for me,” he whispers, the shape of his lips forming the words against the fabric. His tongue darts out, teasing through the thin barrier, and the sensation makes your thighs tremble. “Knew you’d taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl.”

He flattens his tongue against your panties, dragging it in a slow, deliberate motion that leaves your jaw slack as you watch him. His mouth teases and tastes you, giving you just enough to light every nerve on fire but never enough to satisfy. Goosebumps race across your skin, and your head tilts back against the door as your eyes flutter shut, a soft moan spilling from your lips.

“Can taste this soaked pussy already, honey,” he moans, his voice low and rough, vibrating against you. His hand tightens on your hip, holding you steady as he presses a kiss to your most sensitive spot, still teasingly covered by the damp fabric. “Who’s all this for?”

Your brain struggles to keep up, the molten heat building in your core making it almost impossible to think. But then, that little devil on your shoulder gets the better of you, and before you can stop yourself, you murmur, “The guy down the hall,"

Joel stops.

The room goes silent, the teasing ministrations of his mouth halting as he pulls back just enough to look up at you. His eyes meet yours, dark and unreadable, and in that moment, you’re reminded of exactly who Joel Miller is.

Not just the man whose hands have been roaming your body, whose lips left you breathless—no, the killer. The smuggler. The man who has stared death in the face and walked away without flinching. The man who has done unspeakable things without hesitation, without mercy.

That edge, that dangerous part of him, flashes behind his eyes now, sharp and unforgiving. It makes your stomach twist, your heart pounding in the sudden stillness.

Joel doesn’t move, doesn’t speak at first, just stares at you like he’s deciding what to do with you. His jaw ticks, his expression hardening, and slowly, his grip on your thigh tightens just enough to make you hiss, to remind you of the strength he holds--the sheer power in his hands.

“You wanna say that again?” he mutters, his voice low and laced with quiet menace, and for a fleeting second, you’re not sure if he’s going to kiss you or destroy you.

Within a second, Joel drops your thigh and stands abruptly, towering over you once again. Before your heart can catch up, he’s pulling you across the room with ease, guiding your body toward the bed. He pushes you forward, and you land on all fours, your hands catching your fall against the soft blankets.

You barely have time to process the shift before he’s already behind you. The clang of his belt buckle hitting the floor sends a shiver through you, your body hyperaware of every sound, every movement.

“You’re gonna regret sayin’ that, honey,” he drawls, his voice low and dangerous as his fingers snag the waistband of your panties, dragging them down with a deliberate slowness. The cool air brushes against your bare skin, and you feel the rough calluses of his fingertips as they trail over you.

Joel hisses as his fingers slide along your bare wetness, spreading you open just enough to tease.  Your breath catches when he strokes himself against you, his cock hot and heavy as it presses against your entrance. The head of him is enough to make you freeze, your body tensing at the sheer size of him.

“Shhh,” he soothes, his hand trailing down your spine, the pads of his fingers brushing lightly as they go. “S’alright, baby. You can take it. Just after throwin’ that shit in my face, I can’t let ya have it easy, can I?”

You shake your head quickly, your breath coming in short gasps. “No, sir,” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft but laced with control. His hands grip your hips, guiding you as he nudges your legs further apart with his knees. “Get down for me.”

You lower yourself onto the bedspread so your cheek is brushing the blanket, your arms splayed out beside you. Your body instinctively obeys his command, your back arching as you raise your hips higher for him. Joel moves one foot onto the bed, bracing himself as he leans over you, the sheer weight of him pressing down, making you feel completely at his mercy.

Joel shifts behind you, his hand splayed over your lower back as he holds you in place. The weight of his palm is grounding, steady, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air around you. You feel the heat of him pressing against you, his cock dragging along your slick folds, teasing, deliberate.

“Look at you,” he mutters, his voice rough and gravelly. “All laid out for me like this.” His other hand grips your hip firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he lines himself up. “This is where you belong, baby. Right here. Under me.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, he pushes forward. The stretch is immediate, sharp and nearly unbearable, his cock filling you inch by inch as he moves slowly, giving you time to adjust.

“Shit,” Joel hisses, his grip on your hip tightening as he sinks deeper. “So tight for me, baby girl. You feel that? Feel how good you’re takin’ me?”

You whimper, your fingers clutching the blankets as your body arches back instinctively, chasing the sensation. Joel growls low in his throat at the motion, his hand sliding up to grab a fistful of your hair, gently pulling your head back as he leans down over you.

“Patience,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the curve of your ear. “We’re doin’ this my way.”

He pulls back again, just enough to make you whine at the loss before pressing forward again, deeper this time. Each thrust is slow, measured, driving you to the edge but never letting you tumble over. His control is maddening, the steady rhythm of his movements keeping you suspended in a haze of pleasure and frustration.

Your body arches instinctively, the pressure building in your core, but Joel doesn’t let you move an inch beyond what he allows, his hands still holding you firmly in place.

“Your pussy’s squeezin’ me like a damn vice, baby,” he hisses, his voice gravelly and thick with heat. His hands roam over your hips, rough palms smoothing over the curve of your waist as he grinds into you. “You gonna cum soon, aren’t you, darlin’?”

Your breath catches at his dirty words, the pressure low in your belly coiling tighter with every calculated roll of his hips. “Yes,” you gasp, your voice trembling as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Yes, yes, yes…”

Joel chuckles darkly, his pace slowing even further, drawing out your desperation. His hands still on your hips, holding you firmly in place as you writhe beneath him. “Aw,” he tuts, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. “That’s too bad, ain’t it?”

Your eyes fly open as he leans down, his chest pressing against your back. His lips brush your ear, his voice low and taunting. “Good girls get to cum,” he murmurs, each word slow and deliberate, his breath hot against your skin. “But you and that smart mouth? You don’t get nothin’ until I say so.”

Joel straightens back up, his grip on your hips like iron as he slams into you without warning, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs. The slow, taunting rhythm from before is gone, replaced by something primal, raw. Each thrust is rough, unrelenting, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room as he drives into you with relentless precision.

Your fingers clutch at the blankets beneath you, your body rocking forward with the intensity of his movements. The coil in your belly tightens with every harsh thrust, your legs trembling as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

Broken moans continue to escape your lips, your body arching instinctively as you try to meet his pace, but his hands on your hips keep you firmly in place, leaving you no control.

“Not so smart now, huh?” he mutters, his tone laced with dark satisfaction as he drives into you harder. “Thought you could tease me, baby? Play your little games?”

The pressure inside you is unbearable now, your body trembling, desperate for release, but Joel isn’t letting you have it. He keeps you teetering on the brink, holding you there with a mastery that has you whimpering, your head dropping forward as you gasp for air.

“Please,” you finally cry, your voice breaking as the words spill from your lips. “Joel, please!”

He leans down again, one hand sliding up your spine to grip the back of your neck, his breath hot against your ear. “Not yet,” he growls, his voice thick with control. “You don’t get to cum until I hear you say it.”

You sob softly, your body trembling with the effort of holding back as he fucks you harder, his movements leaving you raw and desperate.

“Say it,” he demands, his hand tightening on your neck, his thrusts unrelenting. “Say you belong to me.”

Your breath hitches, your mind too hazy to resist anymore. “I belong to you,” you gasp, your voice trembling, barely more than a whisper.

“Louder,” he growls, his hips slamming into you, pushing you even closer to the edge.

“I belong to you!” you cry, your voice breaking with the force of your desperation, "I'm yours Joel, all yours. It's all for you,"

“Good girl,” he moans, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Now show me, baby. Show me how good you are for me.”

With one hand still gripping your hip, Joel’s other slides down to where your bodies meet, his rough fingers finding your swollen clit. The sharp jolt of pleasure has you crying out, your body bucking against him as he circles it with maddening precision.

The combination of his thrusts and his fingers is overwhelming, the pressure inside you finally snapping as you’re thrown over the edge. Your body tenses, your thighs shaking as your release crashes through you in waves, pulling a loud, broken moan from your lips.

Joel groans low in his throat, his pace faltering slightly as he watches you come undone around him, your walls fluttering and squeezing him tight. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice strained, “That's my good girl, give me everything,"

He stays leaning down over you now, driving into you, chasing his own high. His arms hold you against his body tightly, his breath is ragged, his movements erratic as he holds you firmly against him.

With a deep, guttural groan, Joel presses deep, his cock twitching as his release spills into you, hot and overwhelming. His hips stutter as he rides it out, his hands keeping you pinned against him, his body shuddering with the force of it.

The room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the both of you trembling and spent. Joel leans forward, his lips brushing against the back of your neck as his hands soften their grip, caressing your skin now instead of digging into it.

After one last exhale, Joel shifts, the tension leaving his body as he falls onto the bed bedside you, laying onto his back and pulling you into him. His arms wrap around you, warm and secure, holding you against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat is warm, grounding you as you relax into him.

His hand moves slowly, gently tracing soft circles along your back, his rough fingers soothing against your skin. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, your breath warm as it fans over his collarbone.

“You alright, baby?” he asks again, his voice softer now, laced with concern and tenderness.

You hum, your hand coming up to his face, tracing your fingers along the rough planes of his jaw. “Better than alright,” you whisper, your voice hoarse but content.

His lips twitch into a faint smile, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “Sorry if I was--”

“You weren’t,” you cut him off softly, your fingers brushing along the valleys of his arm, “It was perfect.”

Joel’s arms tighten around you slightly, his thumb stroking idly along the curve of your shoulder. For a moment, you don’t say anything, content to listen to the rhythmic sound of his breathing, to feel the warmth of his body enveloping yours. His chest rises and falls beneath you, steady and calming, and you let your eyes drift closed.

Joel shifts slightly, adjusting the blanket over the both of you before settling back down, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head. His hands never stop moving, slow and steady, as if to remind you he’s there, that he’s not going anywhere.

“Get some rest,” Joel murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple in a soft, lingering kiss. “I’ve got you.”

And with that, you sink into him, his warmth and quiet affection wrapping around you like a balm, the world outside fading into nothing.

[drunk-person]

Leather gloves, jealous and dragons

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: After the moons pass and Aemond and Lady Y/n's marriage becomes increasingly stronger, there is only one creature capable of keeping the prince away from his wife for more than a few hours, Vhagar. Sometimes Y/n cares, sometimes she doesn't, but if there's one thing she never cares about, it's the thick black gloves that her husband wears when he goes flying.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, gloves being used inappropriately (a lot of things have been used inappropriately on this blog lately, I'm talking about you training yard), fingering, clothed sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, no description for reader.

Word cont: 2.900 k

Author's note: Okay, I was just casually scrolling through Aemond's tag when this idea came up, and yes I was writing the bottom half of the fourth chapter of The Gossip, but I HAD to write this story! @peachysunrize I hope you like it, I added some inventions from my head in the middle of it 💕💕. English is not my first language so be kind if you can.

Y/n Arryn was a respectable and well-regarded lady, throughout Westeros there were men fighting for her hand as soon as she was old enough to marry. Proposals came from the North, the Rech and even Dorne, but the one that was of most interest to Lord Arryn was the one that came in a black envelope with red edges sealed with the Targaryen family crest.

The hand of the king had proposed marriage between Y/n and his grandson Prince Aemond Targaryen. The young woman felt her heart come to her mouth as soon as her father told her what he had decided, she would marry Prince Aemond in two moons.

The first time Y/n set foot on Kings Landing she was terrified, the idea of marrying a man she barely knew making her thoughts cloudier than water. And when she met Prince Aemond, this terror increased even more, something she didn't think was possible.

He was as scary and taciturn as they had told her, he barely gave her a look and only said two words of courtesy, other than muttering every now and then while looking down on everyone as if he were from a race superior to mere mortals.

Y/n's fear became even more overwhelming after she met Aegon, Aemond's older brother. Her heart ached as she listened to the gossip around the fortress about how he cheated on his wife, how he was always drunk, and how he spent more time in the brothels than in the fortress. Sadness took over her, and she imagined how terrible life itself would be from now on.

How wrong she was.

Things began to change on the night of the wedding when the prince vehemently denied a bed ceremony. Y/n was so nervous, the fear of the nuptials was already consuming her, combined with the fact that other people would be watching it made her tremble, until Aemond denied the ceremony and ripped that fear out of her.

The remaining fear was quickly extinguished when Aemond gently laid her on the bed and made her cry with pleasure in a way she never thought possible. Her hands tangled in his silver strands of hair as he touched her in places that made her blush with embarrassment as she remembered the other day.

From then on, little by little, she got to know her husband and every day she became more grateful for that. He still had that stoic and arrogant air, but now Y/n could see behind it, she saw the small acts of importance he gave her daily.

How he made a point of having at least one meal a day with her, how he asked how her day had been, how every now and then she would wake up after a passionate night and find an arrangement of beautiful flowers on the table in her room. And each of these things from the smallest to the largest warmed her heart until it was completely melted by her husband, to the point where she couldn't wait to be with him.

Little by little Aemond spent more and more time with her, and when they weren't tangled in the sheets so close together that you didn't know where one began and the other ended, they were sitting in the gardens talking, or reading together in some quiet place, or even just quietly enjoying each other's company. At a certain point, the only one who could receive more attention from Aemond than Y/n was Vhagar since he almost always went on long flights with the dragon.

That afternoon in particular Aemond was taking much longer than usual and Y/n was waiting for him impatiently as she walked around the room. He had promised to arrive before sunset so they would have time to walk around the garden, but now the sun had already set and the maids had even lit the candles.

The loud noise of the door suddenly invaded the room and Y/n promptly got up to wait for her husband, as soon as he entered her field of vision Y/n arched her eyebrows ironically.

-Did you decide to show up, husband? - Moons ago Y/n wouldn't have spoken to him in such a way in her wildest dreams, but now she was so familiar with him that she often didn't have as much politeness when speaking.

-I'm sorry, wife. - He said, removing the belt with the dagger and sword and throwing it on the couch. -Vhagar was a little sensitive this afternoon, she tends to want to fly longer distances when she is like this.

Y/n just made a humming sound with her mouth instead of responding, a habit she had picked up from Aemond without even realizing it. However, Y/n couldn't help biting her lower lip lightly when she saw him still wearing his riding clothes, she had never said anything to him, but seeing him returning from the flight always affected her mood and it was almost automatic so that she got excited.

-Wife… - Aemond murmured, approaching Y/n from behind and holding her firmly by the waist. -Are you by any chance jealous of Vhagar… a dragon?

His voice was incredulous and Y/n burned with embarrassment. Before she could respond Aemond laughed, something that rarely happened, which made her blush even more as she tried tried to free herself from his arms.

-You don't need to be embarrassed, I find it very flattering that you feel such appreciation for me to the point of feeling jealous. - He arched his eyebrow, still smiling. - No matter how unreasonable it may be.

-Husband.. - Y/n complained grumpily looking at her feet.

At that point she was no longer red only from the small misbehavior, but also from the thin, rough texture of her husband's riding gloves against her sensitive, soft skin. That was always a problem, she couldn't help but sigh every time she saw Aemond arrive wearing those damn gloves. And when he ripped them off and threw them haphazardly on the table? She felt a pressure between her legs that made her want to jump on him.

-What is it? Why are you all bristling, wife? - Aemond rubbed his hands against her arms and Y/n shivered even more making him arch his eyebrows again.

-They're your gloves, husband. - She said looking at the floor. – They are rough.

-I can take it off if you want. - He spoke, still gently stroking her arms, but after speaking he noticed that his wife lowered her eyes and didn't respond and then, approaching her lips to her ear, he spoke in a low voice, almost making her sigh. - You don't want me to take it off, do you?

-Do you like rougher things, dear wife? - And with the question he ran his hands down Y/n's body and slowly pulled the fabric of the dress up and accumulated them on her hips, making Y/n gasp as she felt the rough gloves passing over her thighs and squeezing them. slowly. Aemond couldn't help but smile when he noticed his wife's reactions to the roughest touch.

-Come here my dear, I'll show you how much I missed you. - He said, pulling her more and more towards him, sitting in one of the armchairs in the room while he placed her on his lap facing the large mirror and guided his hands to his wife's knees, slowly separating her legs, now being able to see the moisture that had formed in her intimacy.

-I haven't even touched you yet, dear wife, and you're already so wet for me. - His delicious voice sounded in her ear as he slowly moved his hands up her thighs, making her desperate for him to get to where she needed him most. The sight of his gloved fingers running up her legs made her roll her eyes with desire.

Aemond smiled mischievously and Y/n held her breath, not knowing where to look. His smile intensified as he brought his fingers to her cunt and at this point Y/n was barely breathing with desire.

Slowly he guided two fingers to her entrance and rubbed gently, pulling some of the moisture concentrated there and taking it to the pearl, which he began to rub languidly, eliciting sighs and moans from Y/n.

-You look so beautiful when you open your legs for me. - He murmured, brushing his lips gently against the shell of her ear, making her let out a louder moan. - So beautiful making these perfect sounds when I've barely touched you yet.

He then moved his fingers down and with a smooth movement that made Y/n roll her eyes, he penetrated just one gloved finger into her cunt. The sight of his finger disappearing inside her as he admired her with that look of pure adoration made her want to cry with desire.

-Very good beautiful girl. - He sighed as he slowly moved his finger teasing her, knowing very well that she needed more. - You always welcome me so well. How about another one?

He had barely asked and Y/n was already nodding her head practically begging for him.

-Such a needy lady my wife is. - He murmured as he inserted another finger inside her, making her moan his name with praise. - I can't leave our bed for a few hours because it becomes a meaningless mess.

Aemond guided his free hand to the front laces of Y/n's dress and pulled them tightly, loosening her wife's neckline more and more until her breasts were exposed to his pure delight, who guided his gloved hand to her erect nipple. of her gently pinching him as he admired her reflection in the mirror.

Meanwhile he moved his fingers slowly inside her and the feeling of the rough fabric of her husband's gloves against her own soft and wet insides made Y/n see stars and sigh in contentment with the double stimulation. As Aemond fucked her with his fingers he found that spongy spot that took her body out of orbit, and when she moaned uncontrollably he smiled even more mischievously against her neck, leaving kisses and bites there, pinching her nipples even more.

-So good husband. - Y/n sighed, leaning on his shoulder.

-You don't know how much I want to fuck you right now. -He murmured, biting her ear and sucking it while he nuzzled his nose in her hair.

Aemond penetrated her third finger making her whimper, but unlike before where he caressed her gently, he now started to get into a rougher rhythm, still slow but with force. And Y/n in turn just clung to his arms as she threw herself back, leaning against her husband's clothed chest, and moving her hips in search of more friction.

-So desperate my wife, throwing herself against my fingers like a beautiful filthy whore. -He brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen across her face when he said that, so that Y/n could see herself better in the mirror, and the sight of her made her moan even louder.

His gloved fingers moving in and out of her cunt, his palm firmly massaging her mound, the fabric of the gloves slightly moistened and a white ring forming at the base of the fingers contrasting strongly with the dark color they possessed. The contractions of pleasure of her cunt crushing Aemond's skilled fingers as he smiled and bit her neck working even harder to coax pleasure out of her, he loved the feeling of her silky walls squeezing around him.

The way he curled his fingers and then moved them in and out made every nerve ending in Y/n burn. The roughness of the fabric was driving her crazy and she wanted so much more, she wanted to be set on fire.

-Husband. - She moaned, arching her back and pressing herself even more against him while turning her neck slightly to face him, taking one of her hands to his hair and removing the eye patch in the process. - I'm so close… so close. Please.

-I like it as much as you implore my dear. - He guided his other hand to her chin and squeezed it tightly, forcing her to keep her eyes exclusively on the mirror's reflection, the rough fabric of the glove making her gasp, while the sight of Aemond's now uncovered sapphire eye made her moan. - But I want you to keep your hungry little eyes on your pussy.

-See how wet she is for me, how well she takes my fingers, you are dripping my dear wife. - The movements became faster and stronger and Y/n felt some tears run down her cheeks as she moaned uncontrollably at the sight of Aemond's gloved fingers buried so deeply in her soaked cunt.

And when he accelerated the movements of both his fingers inside Y/n and his palm against her sensitive pearl, Y/n cried and screamed as she came against his hand, shuddering with pleasure.

Aemond was lost at that scene. He couldn't take his eyes off his wife's cunt writhing against his fingers as her juices oozed out between his fingers. Her face full of pleasure as she screamed and begged for his name was another thing that could easily kill him in that instant, he would certainly die happy with that scene.

-Look at the mess you make, my dear. - He said after removing his fingers from her trembling cunt. - Clean up for me like the good wife I know you are.

Aemond guided his hand to Y/n's lips and she lazily sucked on his gloved fingers. The taste of the fabric mixed with her own taste further numbing her mind, still clouded by the orgasm.

And Aemond could no longer contain himself when he saw that expression of contentment on her face as she sucked on his gloved fingers. And he quickly took her off his lap and bent her over the carpet, still facing the mirror, making her gasp from the abrupt movement.

Y/n had barely balanced herself and Aemond had already undid the laces of his own pants and guided his cock to her sensitive pussy. They both moaned senselessly as soon as he penetrated her completely. And he quickly brought his hands to the top of her dress, dragging it down and leaving her breasts completely free for him to massage and squeeze as he pleased.

He fucked her so well, and Y/n lost her breath with each firm thrust from Aemond and panted with pleasure as she whimpered for more with tears in her eyes.

She raised her head, looking towards the mirror again, and the sight of his hand massaging her hips and squeezing her nipples as he fucked her while still wearing those damned riding gloves made her eyes roll with pleasure, and she begged for him with Even more willing looking into his eyes and sighing when finding that blue glow that she had learned to love so much.

-I love that look you have when I'm inside you. - He groaned, rolling his eye with pleasure as he fucked her, and Y/n lowered her face once again. Aemond then guided his hand to her chin, forcing her to look at the mirror again, he wouldn't miss a second of that passionate look that his wife directed just at him and that made Aemond's heart race.

-No my dear, you keep those shining eyes on me while I fuck you like you deserve. - And removing his hand from her chin, Aemond went up to her hair and pulled it back, holding her firmly and keeping her gaze fixed on the mirror.

-Aemond, please. - She whimpered, enchanting him with those eyes that made him lose his head, and once again he guided the tips of his gloved fingers to the top of her thighs and caressed her forcefully, making his wife gasp and moan as she collapsed in front of him, who held her. by her hips as he fucked her with abandon looking for his own climax, which didn't take long to come when he came deep inside her.

The two remained motionless, their bodies pressed together and their breaths labored. Y/n brought her own bare hand to her husband's gloved hand and caressed it with gentle circles still completely lost in fleeting pleasure.

-You look even more beautiful when you're cumming all over my cock. - He murmured, still lost in pleasure against her hair, making his wife smile.

Y/n in turn, faced the mirror and sighed with contentment when she saw their reflection. Aemond behind her still panting with his usually stoic face relaxed in pleasure as he held her against him still holding her thighs firmly to keep her in contact with him as she squeezed lightly every now and then.

-Love you. - She said tiredly, still with her head lying on his shoulder, looking at him through the mirror.

Aemond didn't respond with words, he just mumbled like he always did. But Y/n no longer needed words, she had learned to distinguish every look, every touch and every sigh of her husband to know that he was also in love, especially when he pulled her even closer and left a soft kiss on her neck .

Tag list: @slut-for-m3 @fallout-girl219