#and his beautiful face. and his beautiful gaze.

[iconchae]

SAY YES, yjw | 18+

PAIRING: bf ! yang jungwon × gf ! female reader. . . GENRE: angst, smut, slight fluff (?). . . SYNOPSIS: jungwon would never fully understand the depth of your pain or the weight of your struggles, but he can’t stand seeing you suffer alone. desperate to be close to you, he crosses all boundaries, his comforting words quickly turn into passionate actions as the two of you learn ‘things’ together and experience them. . . WARNING(S): kisses, nsfw, contains cuss words, mdni, smut, angst, too much plot lol, blowjob, handjob, pussy eating, cum eating, protected sex, inexperienced, mentions of abuse, shower sex, unprotected sex, slapping, mentions of suicide, lmk if I missed anything. . . WORD COUNT: 12k+

rina’s note: i wanted to make this a long fic so here I am, I hope i didn't bore y’all out by going into the depths of it all. I kind of changed the main plot so it is more of a ‘trying sex for the first time’ typa thing. there's too much plot, skip if you want straight up smut— ig so

Jungwon’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared at you, standing dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, the wind whipping your hair wildly around your face. His voice trembled as he called out, his throat dry with fear. "Are you crazy?" His eyes were wide, filled with both disbelief and panic as you stood on the precipice, one step away from a deadly drop.

You didn’t turn to look at him, your gaze fixed on the vast, open sky in front of you. The horizon blurred into a dull mix of oranges and reds, a sunset that should’ve been beautiful, but for you, was nothing more than a backdrop to your despair. “Yeah, say whatever you want. I’ll be gone soon,” you replied quietly, your voice hollow, void of any emotion.

Jungwon’s body tensed as you lifted your foot, hovering over the edge, contemplating the final step that would send you plummeting into the abyss. His heart raced even faster, his pulse pounding in his ears. "Come back here!" he yelled, panic lacing his words, but his plea went unheard as you teetered closer to the edge, ready to give up on everything. Time seemed to slow as he watched your figure leaning into the nothingness, and in that split second, his body moved on instinct.

He surged forward, grabbing your arm with a desperate force and yanking you back against him just as your toes grazed the empty air. The impact of your body colliding with his chest knocked the breath out of both of you, and you were pressed firmly against him, his arms wrapping around your waist in a fierce grip.

"Fucking stupid!" he shouted, his voice breaking as his breath came in ragged gasps. You could feel his chest heaving against your back, his grip on you so tight it was almost painful, but you didn’t struggle. Instead, you stood frozen in his arms, reality finally sinking in—what you had almost done, what he had just saved you from.

He pulled you further away from the cliff’s edge, his hands trembling slightly as he guided you back toward the safety of the school terrace. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows across the ground, but the warmth of the day still lingered in the air. It felt at odds with the cold, hollow feeling in your chest.

Once you were both far from the cliff’s edge, Jungwon spun you around to face him, his eyes searching yours, a mixture of anger, fear, and relief swirling in his dark gaze. "Why the hell did you even try to end your life?!" he demanded, his voice louder than usual, raw and broken.

You blinked, the weight of the moment crashing down on you like a wave. His question hung in the air, sharp and accusatory, and you realized just how close you had come to the edge—physically, mentally. A lump formed in your throat as you fumbled for words, guilt and shame suddenly overwhelming you. “But… everything is a mess…”

Jungwon’s expression softened for a fraction of a second before hardening again, his brows furrowed in frustration. “And you think a mess can’t be picked up and cleaned?” His words were harsh, almost biting, but there was something else underneath—a desperation to make you see reason, to pull you back from the darkness that had consumed you.

You gave a bitter laugh, shaking your head as your eyes dropped to the ground. "You’re saying it like it’s so simple. You’re saying it from a third-person point of view. You don’t know what it feels like. How could you possibly—"

"Just shut up." His voice cut through your words like a knife, his hands still gripping your arms, though his hold had loosened, his fingers less tense now. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and he looked like he was fighting back his own emotions, trying to stay strong for both of you.

The silence that followed was thick, the only sound being the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. His jaw clenched as he stared at you, disbelief still etched into his features. How could his best friend—someone who had always seemed so strong, so put-together—be standing here, on the verge of throwing everything away? How could you even consider doing this?

You finally glanced up at him, your voice small. “You’re mad at me.”

"Damn right, I’m mad," Jungwon muttered, his fingers tightening just a little on your arms, but not enough to hurt. “I’m mad because you didn’t even talk to me. Because you tried to handle this on your own, and now—” He stopped, his throat constricting as his gaze softened. “I’m mad because I almost lost you."

Your breath hitched at the raw honesty in his words, and you suddenly felt a pang of regret. The depth of his feelings, the fear in his eyes—it hit you all at once. You had been selfish, you realized. Caught up in your own pain, you had forgotten that there were people who cared, people who would be devastated if you were gone.

“I’m sorry…” The words fell from your lips in a whisper, barely audible, but Jungwon heard them. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing just slightly, though his eyes never left yours.

“Just promise me you won’t do this again,” he said quietly, the desperation in his voice still lingering. His hand slid from your arm, his touch gentle now as if afraid you might break.

You nodded, the weight of everything still heavy on your chest. “I promise.”

For the first time since he pulled you back from the cliff, Jungwon’s lips curved into a small, relieved smile. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go that easily.”

But did that change anything? Not really. Even as your best friend, Jungwon, kept calling, you declined every single one of his attempts to reach out. His name would light up your phone screen, his calls persistent at first, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. The guilt gnawed at you, yet somehow, avoiding him felt easier than facing the weight of everything that had happened.

Days bled into weeks. You hadn’t seen or spoken to him since that day on the cliff. The school holidays provided a convenient escape, no awkward encounters in the hallways, no forced conversations during lunch. You didn’t have to see his concerned eyes or hear the questions you weren’t ready to answer.

But it also left you alone. And that isolation, once a refuge, slowly began to feel suffocating.

A sharp sting burned on your cheek, then another, each slap more painful than the last. You felt it deep in your bones—this was abuse. But how could you speak against your own father? The man who provided you a roof over your head, food to eat, clothes on your back. The man who was supposed to protect you but instead delivered blow after blow.

You lay curled up in your small room, the door locked behind you. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating you in this place that should’ve been a home but had turned into a prison. The muffled sounds of your mother’s cries filled the air from just outside your door, followed by the sickening thud of fists. You flinched, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, as if it could block out the horrors on the other side of the door.

Then your phone buzzed, pulling you from the moment, an unknown number flashing across the screen. You hesitated but answered, desperate for a distraction, for anything to take you away from this nightmare, if only for a second.

“Don’t even think about declining this,” a familiar voice spoke through the line, low and firm. Jungwon.

Your breath hitched. How had he found out?

"Can I come over now?" His question was soft but edged with concern, and yet, your heart sank at the thought. You froze, your grip tightening around the phone as you glanced toward the door where the sounds of violence persisted. No, he couldn’t see this. You couldn’t let him witness the chaos behind these walls.

“No... I’m really fine, Jungwon.” The lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

There was silence on the other end, then a harsh sigh. “Stupid girl, I can hear you sobbing.”

His voice was gentle despite the harsh words, the contrast making your chest ache. The tears you had tried so hard to hold back fell freely now, soaking your pillow. You bit your lip, trying to muffle the sobs. The last thing you needed was for him to hear more of your weakness.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Just don’t bother me.”

And with that, you ended the call.

You buried your face deeper into the pillow, as if it could absorb the agony that threatened to spill over. You couldn’t drag him into this mess. Jungwon deserved better than the broken shards of your life. He didn’t need to see the shattered pieces of your family or the way you crumbled beneath the weight of it all. He couldn’t fix it. No one could.

Outside, the noise continued, your mother’s cries piercing through the air, but you pressed your hands over your ears, trying to block it out. You curled into yourself, wishing—praying—that somehow, you could disappear.

The days stretched into weeks, and soon enough, six months had passed. Six long months of silence, of unanswered calls and unread messages. You thought you could avoid the inevitable, thought you could lock yourself away from the world and from him. But luck has never been on your side.

It was just an ordinary evening. You were alone, waiting for a pizza delivery. The knock on the door came just as you expected, and without thinking, you rushed to answer, already imagining the cheesy comfort waiting inside the box.

"Pizza?" you murmured absentmindedly as you reached out, grabbing the box from the man standing there in a red cap. You didn’t even spare him a glance. After all, the bill had already been paid online. You were about to close the door when a foot wedged itself in, stopping it from shutting all the way.

Before you could even react, the man pushed the door open. Panic surged through your veins, your heartbeat quickening as you were about to scream—but then he ripped off the mask and cap.

“Jungwon?” His name left your lips in a confused whisper.

He stood in your apartment now, locking the door behind him, his face a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “What the hell?” you muttered, still trying to make sense of what was happening.

“I should be the one saying that!” he snapped, his voice louder than you'd ever heard it. He took a step closer, and you instinctively backed away. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you block me? It’s been six fucking months!” His words echoed in the small space, anger laced with hurt.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. Guilt clawed at your insides as you stared at the floor, your voice small, barely audible. “I—”

“You what?” he interrupted, his voice softening only slightly. “You should’ve come to me instead of shutting me out. I care about you. Do you get that?” His words were raw, the emotion clear as he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. His breath was warm against your neck as he buried his face in your shoulder, holding you like he was afraid you’d slip away again.

That’s when it happened—the sob. It came out of nowhere, and before you could stop it, tears were streaming down your cheeks, your body trembling in his arms.

Jungwon froze. He hadn’t meant to make you cry. “Wait, did I... did I yell too much?” His voice cracked slightly, unsure and a little panicked. But then, as he pulled away to look at you, his eyes caught something else—a dark bruise peeking out from under the sleeve of your shirt. His expression shifted, concern and anger mixing together.

“Was it... your dad?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, so you just nodded, tears still flowing as you pressed your face into his chest again, the sobs shaking your whole body. Jungwon stiffened, helpless in the face of your pain. It wasn’t the first time. He’d seen the marks before, felt the weight of your silence over the months.

He didn’t know what to do, not really. He wasn’t good at handling these things—feelings, emotions. So instead, he did what he always did when words failed him. He reached for the pizza box.

“Hey... let’s eat,” he mumbled, trying to sound lighthearted, though his voice was still thick with worry. “The pizza’s gonna get cold.”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes as you glanced at the box. He was right—who could say no to food, especially pizza? Jungwon sat you down on the couch, his hand resting gently on your shoulder as if afraid you might break. He wiped the last of your tears with the sleeve of his jacket, his touch careful, almost tender.

The box opened with a familiar squeak, and the smell of melted cheese and garlic filled the room, momentarily lifting the heavy atmosphere. He picked up a slice, the cheese stretching from the crust, and held it out to you.

“Come on,” he coaxed gently, holding the slice up to your lips. You hesitated, still sniffling, but eventually gave in, taking a small bite. He watched you closely, his eyes soft as he smiled, relieved when you didn’t pull away or retreat into your shell again.

You chewed quietly, the warmth of the pizza slowly easing the ache in your chest. Jungwon fed you another bite, then another, as if the simple act of sharing food could patch up the cracks in your world.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said suddenly, his voice steady but quiet. “Not until you stop shutting me out. You’re stuck with me.”

For the first time in months, a small, fragile smile tugged at the corners of your lips. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

As you wiped the tears from your cheeks and took another bite of the pizza, you finally worked up the courage to ask the question that had been nagging at you for months.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" Your voice was small, but it carried the weight of your confusion, your walls still up even though you sat here with him, sharing a meal like nothing had changed.

Jungwon didn’t hesitate. “Because I love you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He didn’t make a big show of it—he just said it while stuffing his mouth with another bite of pizza, crumbs falling onto his lap, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside you.

You froze mid-bite. The pizza in your hand suddenly felt heavier, like it was too much to hold. Love. That word had always felt dangerous, especially coming from someone who mattered. Your heart raced, but instead of joy or excitement, a chill of fear ran down your spine. Your eyes darted toward the door. What if your parents came home? What if they saw you like this, with a boy, alone in your apartment?

“You should leave,” you blurted, the words stumbling out of your mouth.

Jungwon frowned, his brows knitting together. “Why?”

“Because my dad—” you started, but then remembered the one small mercy of the day. “He’ll be back later.”

“You said he’s gone for the day,” Jungwon reminded you, still chewing on a slice of pizza. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave before he comes.”

Relief washed over you momentarily, and the tension in your shoulders relaxed. He was right. You had a little more time. So the two of you continued to eat, now with a second pizza box sitting on the coffee table—the actual delivery guy had come not long after Jungwon’s dramatic entrance, dropping off a few dumplings along with your order.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, the sound of chewing filling the room as you stuffed your faces, the dumplings soft and savory, the pizza cheesy and still warm.

But Jungwon, ever the one to ruin the quiet moments, spoke up again. His voice was softer this time, cautious, like he was stepping into dangerous territory. “Why have you been avoiding me, though?”

You looked at him, blinking in confusion as you wiped crumbs off your lips. “Avoiding what?”

“I love you,” he repeated, slower this time, letting the words hang in the air between you. “Say it back.”

Your heart clenched. He was waiting for an answer, but the lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. “I— I’m afraid.”

Jungwon’s face softened, his eyes searching yours for an explanation. “Afraid of what?”

You bit your lip, staring down at the half-eaten pizza in your hand. The words were hard to say, but you forced them out. “Afraid of loving someone. What if they—”

“You think I’ll turn out like your father?” he cut you off, his voice laced with disbelief and hurt.

You froze. The air between you shifted, growing heavier with each passing second. His eyes bore into you, the hurt clear in his expression. You wanted to deny it, to take back the unspoken accusation, but you couldn’t. Instead, you just sat there, silent, your guilt wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket.

“I—” you started, but the words died in your throat.

“So you do.” His voice was low, filled with disappointment. His shoulders slumped, and he looked away, hurt written all over his face. The boy who had burst into your home with so much fire and determination was now quiet, deflated.

“I’m sorry, Jungwon,” you whispered, the apology sounding hollow, even to you.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, but the way he said it told you it wasn’t fine at all. His tone was distant, half-hearted, as if the words barely mattered now. He picked up another slice of pizza, though the enthusiasm from earlier was gone. He chewed slowly, not really tasting it anymore, his eyes focused on the floor.

You sat there, the silence between you heavy and oppressive, both of you nibbling on your food but no longer enjoying it. The pizza that once tasted so good now felt like ash in your mouth, and the room, once filled with warmth and comfort, now felt cold.

Jungwon wiped his hands on a napkin, the sound of the crumpling paper breaking the silence. He sighed, leaning back against the couch, his head tilted toward the ceiling as if he was trying to gather his thoughts. You wanted to say something, to fix the mess you had made, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was sit there, your hands trembling slightly as you held the half-eaten slice, unsure of what to do next.

The tension hung in the air like a cloud, neither of you knowing how to break it. The food sat on the table, forgotten, as you both struggled with your own emotions, neither ready to face the truth that had been laid bare between you.

And yet, despite the silence, despite the hurt, he didn’t leave. Jungwon stayed. Even when you didn’t deserve it. Even when you thought you were unlovable. He stayed.

Jungwon lingered by the door, his hesitation palpable. The quiet of the room was heavy with the weight of unspoken words and lingering doubts. He had finally agreed to leave, his resolve hardening as he prepared to step out of the apartment. But his hand rested on the doorknob, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of frustration and hope.

"You won’t block me again, right?" he asked, his voice strained, the edges of his words betraying his fear of being shut out once more.

You felt a lump in your throat, sadness gripping you tightly. "I will try," you muttered, the admission hanging heavily in the air between you. His disappointment was clear, a visible ache in his eyes as he took in your response.

Jungwon’s expression softened slightly, though his skepticism remained. "I understand," he said, but the words lacked conviction. He was still waiting for something more, something that would reassure him of your sincerity.

Before he could leave, you found yourself reaching out, clutching his hand in a desperate bid to keep him there. "Jungwon, I’m sorry. I don’t believe you to be the same as my dad," you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

His eyes met yours, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. "I understand," he repeated, but his tone was guarded, as if he was trying to protect himself from further hurt. Yet, when you continued, your voice softer but firm, his expression shifted.

"I love you too, Jungwon," you pleaded, the words escaping in a rush of vulnerability. The confession was not just an apology but a revelation, a desperate plea for him to stay.

He looked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You’re saying it for the sake of it," he accused, his voice tinged with skepticism.

The accusation stung, and your eyes welled up with tears. You tried to bridge the gap between your heart and his with honesty. "I’m being honest," you insisted, your voice breaking. "I do love you, Jungwon." But even as you said it, you felt a pang of uncertainty, a hesitation that made you question whether your feelings were as genuine as you wanted them to be.

Jungwon's gaze was intense, his eyes searching yours for the truth. "Say it while looking into my eyes," he demanded, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly, yet gently. The door was still closed, the world outside forgotten in the face of this emotional confrontation.

You hesitated, the weight of his demand pressing down on you. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw the earnestness and care that had been so evident in him all along. The vulnerability you had felt in those long months of silence, the yearning to connect with him, surged to the surface.

“I love you,” you said, the words coming from a place deep within your heart. The confession was more than just an acknowledgment of your feelings; it was a declaration of the truth you had been avoiding. The pain of the past six months, the longing to speak to him, the realization that he had been the only one who truly cared—it all culminated in those three words.

Jungwon’s eyes softened as he took in your declaration. He let go of your shoulders, his expression a mix of relief and continued uncertainty. He stepped closer, his presence a comforting warmth against the cold weight of your fears.

"How could I not love you?" you whispered, the question more to yourself than to him, but it was clear. The truth of your feelings, once hidden and doubted, now stood revealed. You had missed him, craved his presence, and needed him more than you had ever admitted.

Jungwon pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms enveloping you in a protective cocoon. The tears on your cheeks were wiped away by his thumb, his touch tender despite the earlier conflict. "We’ll figure this out," he murmured, his voice soothing as he held you close. "We’ll take it one step at a time."

The world outside felt distant, the only reality that mattered was the one in his arms, where the past six months of silence and fear began to unravel. The pizza boxes and dumplings lay forgotten on the table, their warmth a reminder of the connection you had almost lost but had now found again.

As you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, the emotional turmoil slowly settled into a fragile sense of hope. Jungwon's presence was a beacon of reassurance, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, love had the power to heal and bridge the gaps of misunderstanding.

As the months have passed, the initial awkwardness of your relationship has given way to a comfortable familiarity. You and your best friend-turned-lover have grown accustomed to each other's presence, often finding yourselves curled up on the couch together, lost in conversation or simply enjoying each other's company.

His voice is low and patient, guiding you through the motions as his hand covers yours. Your fingers tentatively wrap around his cock, mirroring his movements. You can feel his heartbeat pulsing against your palm, his warm breath against your neck as he leans down to kiss you softly. "Like that,"

His voice is a husky whisper against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His hand tightens over yours, guiding it slower, then faster, creating a rhythm that hitches your breath. You can feel him hardening further against your touch, his hips bucking gently into your grip.

"Feel that?" he murmurs, his voice barely audible as he guides your hand up and down his length. "That's you touching me." His breath hitches when you wrap your other hand around to cup him, your fingers brushing against sensitive skin. "Just like that,"

"You're... you're so warm," you whisper, your voice hitching as your thumbs brush against the velvety tip. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his intense gaze. "And so big..." He groans, his hips jerking forward, his hands squeezing yours tighter around him.

"I-I want to touch you too," he stammers, his cheeks flushing a soft shade of red. His hands hesitate, hovering over your thighs before slowly inching upward, his touch light and uncertain. "Is this... is this okay?"

"Mhm..." you breathe out, your head lolling back against his shoulder as his tentative fingers trace the hem of your skirt. His touch is like a spark against your skin, making you acutely aware of every inch of your body. "You can... you can go under..."

His fingers tremble slightly as he lifts the hem of your skirt, his gaze fixated on the soft fabric of your panties. He looks up at you, seeking permission, his heart pounding in his chest. You nod, and he lets out a shaky breath before slowly sliding his hand underneath your underwear.

"Oh..." you gasp, your back arching into him as he finds your center. His touch is exploratory, his fingers tracing your folds as if committing every detail to memory. "You're... you're wet," he breathes out, his voice laced with wonder and a hint of nervousness.

As he explores you, his own breath hitches in rhythm with your touches. His hips jerk forward, pushing into your fist as your hands continue to stroke him. "You... you feel so good," he pants, his voice strained, his fingers mirroring your rhythm against your core. "Like..."

"...like silk," he whispers, his fingers gliding through your wetness as he discovers your sensitive spots. "So smooth and warm." He looks up at you, his eyes glassy with desire, his face flushed. "Can I... can I put my finger inside you?"

"Yes," you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation. "Please..." You guide his finger to your entrance, holding his gaze as he pushes it inside you. He lets out a soft gasp, his finger sinking deeper into your heat as he starts to curl it. "Oh god..."

He curls his finger inside you, feeling the tight, untouched walls of your vagina hug his finger tightly. He looks at you in awe, his eyes wide with wonder as he realizes he's the first person to ever be inside you. "You're so... so tight," he whispers, his voice shaking.

"And you're... so big," you pant, your hands squeezing him tighter as he withdraws slightly, only to push back in deeper. "I've never... never felt this way..." Your words trail off into a moan as he finds that spot inside you that makes your insides clench.

His face contorts in concentration, his brows furrowing as he tries to hold back. "You... you're gripping me so tightly," he hisses, his voice barely a whisper. "If you keep that up, I'm... I'm gonna... "

"...I'm gonna cum," he chokes out, his finger moving frantically inside you as he fights against the urge. But it's no use, the sensation of your tight, virgin hole is too much for him to handle.

His movements become erratic, his finger pistonning in and out of you as his breath hitches against your neck. His hips thrust into your grasp, his hot seed pulsing onto your fingers as he moans softly, burying his face against your shoulder. "I'm so... so sorry..."

Tears well up in your eyes as a mix of overwhelming sensations flood through you. Your insides feel deliciously sore from his finger, your body tensing as a few tears slip down your cheeks. "Ow..." you whimper, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

He stiffens behind you, his body tensing as he realizes the reason behind your tears. His finger stills inside you, his body shuddering as he looks at the tears on your cheeks. "Oh god, I'm so sorry..." He gently withdraws from you, cradling you against his chest.

"Don't... don't leave..." you hiccup, turning in his arms to face him. He pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping protectively around you as he nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving soft, apologetic kisses on your skin.

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs, his voice hoarse. "I'm so sorry if I hurt you. That wasn't supposed to happen. Not like that. Not our first time..." His voice trails off, his face flushing with embarrassment.

You sniffle, nuzzling against his chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. "It's okay... it's just... it's new. It's... intense," you explain softly, your voice steadying. "But... it's not your fault. We're learning together..."

He sighs in relief, hugging you tightly against him. "Right. Learning together," he repeats, his voice filled with gratitude. "And I promise, next time will be better. I'll be more careful, more gentle..." He trails off, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

The silence between you two was suffocating. After what had happened, you both found yourselves drifting, not in your feelings for each other but in the inability to navigate the awkwardness that came after. There was no guidebook for this—everyone talked about sex, whispered secrets and stories of excitement, but no one ever mentioned the part that followed. The silence. The shy avoidance. The lingering discomfort.

You avoided talking to Jungwon for days, each time you crossed paths, your eyes darting elsewhere, your heart thudding in your chest. It wasn’t because you didn’t care for him; it was because the weight of what had happened—the intimacy, the vulnerability—felt too heavy to put into words. You weren’t sure how to approach him, how to continue like everything was the same. And maybe it wasn’t the same. Something had changed between you two, but no one had taught you how to deal with that change.

Jungwon’s home had become your escape, a sanctuary from the chaos that awaited you back in your own. His parents had always welcomed you with open arms, offering warmth and safety in a way your own home never did. It was easier to stay at his place, easier to smile and laugh with his family, easier to forget the gnawing ache of shame and fear that clung to you whenever you returned to your father’s house.

But you couldn’t stay away forever.

When you did finally go home, it was always late, always when you were too tired to think about anything but sleep. You would slip quietly into your room, locking the door behind you, hoping that tonight would be one of the quieter nights. But then, the inevitable happened. The sound of something shattering echoed through the walls, sharp and jagged, followed by the familiar sound of your father’s raised voice—angry, slurred, chaotic. Your body tensed immediately, heart pounding in your chest as you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing for the noise to stop.

Another crash. The sound of something breaking against the wall, and you knew—another plate, another bottle, another item sacrificed to your father’s rage. You curled up on your bed, knees pulled to your chest as the noise continued. You had learned to brace yourself, to keep the panic at bay, but it never got easier.

And then, a sound from your window startled you out of your thoughts. A soft knock, hesitant but insistent. You turned, your breath catching as you saw Jungwon’s familiar face peering through the glass. His eyes were wide with concern, his breath fogging up the window as he knocked again, mouthing your name.

Without thinking, you rushed to open it, quietly unlatching the window and sliding it up just enough for him to slip through. “What are you doing here?” you whispered, your voice a mixture of surprise and panic as you helped him inside. His hands were cold, and his body brushed against yours as he climbed into the room.

Jungwon gave you a sheepish smile, his eyes flickering to the door where the sounds of your father’s outburst still echoed faintly. “I wanted to talk to you… we haven’t, you know, talked in a while. And then I heard your dad...”

His words trailed off, the concern in his eyes clear. You could feel the lump in your throat forming, a mixture of embarrassment and helplessness that made you want to shrink away. “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you muttered, dropping your gaze to the floor. “I didn’t want you to—”

Before you could finish, Jungwon pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a warm, comforting embrace. His chin rested on top of your head, his hands gently rubbing your back in a soothing motion. The tension in your body melted slightly as he held you, his presence grounding you, making the chaos outside feel a little less suffocating.

“Why were you avoiding me?” he whispered into your hair, his voice soft and full of concern. “Was it something I did? Was I too rough or...?”

You swallowed, your throat tight with the weight of your own feelings. You shook your head, not able to meet his eyes. “No, it wasn’t that,” you mumbled, your fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “It’s just... it was awkward, you know? After everything.”

Jungwon pulled back slightly, his eyes searching your face for answers, but there was no accusation there, only understanding. He sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t have to be awkward,” he said gently, his hand moving to rest on your shoulder. “We can talk about it. We’re figuring this out together, right?”

His words were meant to comfort, but the reality of it all still felt heavy. The awkwardness of crossing that line of intimacy, the weight of your father’s violence lingering in the background—it all felt too much to bear. But as Jungwon sat down on the edge of your bed, his familiar presence a reminder of everything good, you knew that avoiding him wouldn’t solve anything. He was here, and he cared. Maybe that was enough for now.

He reached over and flicked the switch, plunging the room into darkness. The only sound was the muffled argument coming from downstairs, their parents' voices rising and falling in a heated debate. He moved to the curtains, pulling them closed to block out the faint moonlight peeking through the gaps.

The dim light cast long, dancing shadows on the walls as he turned back to face you. His hands trembled slightly as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, crinkled square - a condom. He hesitated, his cheeks flushing red, before finally blurting out, "Can we...?"

"Can we...?" he repeated softly, his voice barely audible over the distant quarrel. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes darting to meet yours then quickly flicking away, like a nervous bird. "Can we... have actual... you know...?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you processed his words. Actual sex. With him. Here. Now. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and terror swirling in your stomach. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "I... I don't know,"

He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if sharing a secret. "I can forget about it if you want. Pretend I never said anything." His hands fidgeted with the condom, crumpling the foil between his fingers. He was nervous too.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his as you took the crumpled foil from him. His breath hitched at the contact, and he looked up at you with wide, hopeful eyes. You unfolded the condom, the quiet rustle of the package breaking the tense silence.

"No... I want this too," you admitted softly, your voice barely a whisper. You looked down, unable to meet his gaze, as you slowly began to unbutton your shirt. He watched, enraptured, his eyes following your fingers as they revealed more of your skin. "Really?"

You nodded, still focused on your task. You shrugged out of your shirt, letting it drop to the floor. As you began to get out of your shorts, he hesitantly reached out, his hands mirroring yours as he too started to undress.

Your hands froze mid-action, the unbuckled waistband of your jeans gaping open. The heated argument downstairs escalated, the sound of shattered glass punctuating your father's angry words. You bit your lip, uncertainty written all over your face. "What if... what if dad knows you're in?"

He paused, his own shirt halfway unbuttoned. His eyes flicked to the closed door, then back to you, concern etched on his face. He finished unbuttoning his shirt, the material rustling softly as he shrugged it off. "We'll be quiet," he promised, his voice low and steady.

He stepped closer, his bare chest inches from yours. The heat from his body radiated onto yours, his breath warm against your neck as he leaned in. "We can... take it slow," he murmured, his hands tentatively resting on your hips. "And if you want me to stop... just say it..."

You nodded, leaning back on the bed as he gently laid you down. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he crawled onto the bed beside you. He propped himself up on one elbow, his other hand tracing patterns on your bare stomach, his touch feather-light. "We'll be quiet,"

He leaned down, his mouth finding your center through your shorts. He kissed and sucked through the fabric, his hands gently pushing your legs apart as he went down on you. The sound of his mouth on your pussy was muffled by the fabric, but the vibrations sent shivers through your body.

He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he kissed through your shorts. "I've never... done this before," he admitted, his voice muffled. "But I want to make you feel good." You bit your lip, your heart racing as you were reminded that he was a virgin too.

"Show me what you like," he whispered, his hands gripping your thighs as he continued to kiss and suck through the fabric. You tentatively guided his head, showing him the pressure and rhythm that drove you wild. He followed your guidance eagerly, his own inexperience fueling his enthusiasm. "Like that?"

"Yes... just like that," you panted, your head falling back against the pillow. He doubled his efforts, his touch becoming more confident with each passing moment. The room filled with the sounds of your labored breaths and the soft, muffled noises of his mouth on you. "Please..."

His fingers deftly unbuttoned your shorts and slipped them down your legs, leaving you in just your soaked-through panties. He kissed the fabric, his warm breath sending shivers through your body. Then, with a gentle tug, he pulled your panties aside and buried his face between your folds.

His tongue was tentative at first, exploring your wet warmth with shy curiosity. It curled and licked, learning your folds, your ridges, your hole. You could feel his inexperience in every uncertain flick, but it only made the moment more precious. He was learning your body, mapping out your secrets with his tongue.

"Oh, God..." you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as he found your most sensitive spot. He latched onto it, sucking gently as he swirled his tongue around it. Your legs trembled, your hips rising off the bed as you sought more of his mouth.

"Shh..." he hissed softly, lifting his head for a moment. His face was glistening, his chin shiny with your essence. "Your dad might hear..." He ducked his head back down, his hands gripping your hips to keep you from bucking too wildly.

He continued his ministrations, his tongue a blur as he ate at you like a starving man. Your quiet whimpers were muffled by his mouth, your legs shaking violently as the pressure built inside you. He didn't stop, didn't relent, even when you thought you couldn't take it anymore.

"I... I don't know if I can be quiet..." you panted, your voice barely audible. Your body tensed, your legs squeezing around his head as the first waves of release hit you. He looked up at you, his eyes wide and worried. "Try, okay? For me?"

"Okay... okay, I'll try..." you gasped, biting down hard on your fist to stifle your cries. His tongue slid inside you, pushing deep as the first wave crested. Your body clamped down on him, your insides pulsing around his intrusion.

He swallowed your sounds, his throat working as he fought to keep you quiet. Your pussy squeezed him tightly, rippling around his tongue as he lapped at your clit, trying to draw out your orgasm. Finally, you managed to choke back a cry, your hips jerking against his face as you came hard.

He lifted his head, his face a picture of smug satisfaction. His mouth and chin were shiny with your release, his hair disheveled from your desperate fingers. "Good job," he praised softly, kissing your inner thigh. He sat up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Can I... can we try...?" he asked, his voice trailing off as he looked down at his hardened length. He was tentatively stroking himself, his hand moving up and down his length with uncertainty. You nodded, your eyes wide as you looked at his manhood for the first time.

He positioned himself between your thighs, his hands shaking as he guided himself to your entrance. He pressed the head against your hole, his face contorting with concentration. "This might... it might hurt a little," he warned, his voice barely a whisper.

"Condom!" you hissed, your eyes flying wide open. He let out a nervous laugh, "Yeah, condom..." He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a crinkly square. He tore it open with shaking hands and rolled it onto himself with a grimace.

He lined himself up again, his breathing growing heavier. He leaned down to kiss you, his mouth covering yours as he slowly pushed forward. You felt a brief, sharp pain as he broke through, your nails digging into his back. He froze, his face buried in your neck. "You okay?"

"Y-yes... keep going..." you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper. He nodded, his brow furrowing with concentration as he slowly eased the rest of the way in. You could feel every inch of him, your body stretching to accommodate his thickness.

He pushed forward, and you felt the sudden, sharp pain as your hymen gave way. You let out a soft cry, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound. He froze, his body stiff as he realized what had happened. "Oh God, I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

He held perfectly still, his heart pounding against your chest. After a moment, he carefully pulled back until just the head of his dick was inside you, then pushed back in gently. He repeated this process a few times, each push and pull sending small jolts of pain through your tender flesh.

You hissed softly through clenched teeth, your nails digging into his back as you tried to bear the discomfort. He kept his movements slow and gentle, his face contorted with effort as he tried to hold back. "You're so tight... it's so good..." he breathed, his voice hoarse with restraint.

After a few more slow thrusts, the pain began to ease, replaced by a strange, pleasurable pressure. You relaxed a little, your legs unwinding from around his waist. He took this as a sign to continue, his hips picking up a gentle rhythm as he slid in and out of your virgin hole.

He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours as his pace quickened. He was being as gentle as he could, but his body had a mind of its own. The sound of his flesh slapping against yours filled the room, mingling with your soft whimpers and his ragged breathing.

As he thrust into you, he felt a sudden wetness. He looked down between your bodies, his eyes widening as he saw the blood staining the condom. He let out a low groan, his hips stuttering as he realized that he was taking your virginity.

He leaned down to kiss you again, his mouth covering yours as he tried to distract you from the discomfort. He thrust deep, filling you completely as he groaned against your lips. He was trying so hard to be gentle, but your body was too much.

You bit your lip hard to muffle your cries, burying your face in his neck as he continued to move inside you. The headboard banged against the wall with each thrust, the sound echoing loudly through the house. You prayed that your dad's hearing aid was off, so he wouldn't hear.

Jungwon covered your mouth with his hand, muffling your noises as he increased his pace. He was so close, his body tensing with each snap of his hips. "I'm so sorry... I'm so close... I can't stop..." he panted, his eyes locked with yours.

You nodded, your eyes wide with trust. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he continued to thrust into you. The pressure was building inside you too, a heat spreading through your belly as he hit a spot deep inside.

With a choked cry, Jungwon buried his face in your neck, his hips stuttering as he came inside you. The condom strained against his shaft, the blood from your virginity leaking out around it. He held you tightly, his breath ragged against your skin as he tried to calm his racing heart.

He slowly lifted his head, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. You nodded weakly, your body languid from the intense experience. He carefully pulled out, making a face as he saw the blood-stained condom. "I'm so sorry..."

He quickly cleaned you up, his touch gentle as he wiped away the evidence of your lost innocence. He disposed of the condom in the trash, flushing bright red as he realized that he had just taken your virginity in your house. "We should be more careful next time..."

He helped you off the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist as you leaned against him for support. "Come on, let's clean up," he murmured, his voice soft with embarrassment. You nodded weakly, your legs still shaky as he led you to the bathroom. "You can barely walk..."

He turned on the shower, helping you step inside before joining you himself. The warm water felt soothing against your skin, but you couldn't shake off the lingering awkwardness. Jungwon stood behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he held you against his chest. "We're such idiots,"

"We are," you agreed softly, letting out a nervous laugh. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his hands roaming up to cup your breasts. Your head fell back against his shoulder, your eyes closed as you let out a soft moan. "Jungwon... we can't... not again..."

"Shh, just relax," he whispered, his fingers gently squeezing your nipples. The water continued to pour down, washing away the evidence of your lovemaking. Jungwon's other hand reached between your legs, his fingers gently rubbing your sensitive folds. "You're so sore..."

"Mmm... It's okay, we won't do it again... just let me take care of you," he murmured, his fingers gently cleaning you up. He turned off the shower and helped you out, wrapping you in a fluffy towel. He gently dried you off, his touch tender and caring.

Jungwon carried you out of the bathroom and back to the bed, carefully laying you down before climbing in beside you. He pulled the covers over both of you, cuddling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Just rest for now," he whispered, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your forehead.

You nuzzled against his chest, feeling content and sleepy. But then reality hit you, and you tensed up. "Jungwon... what if my dad comes in?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. He stiffened, realizing the gravity of the situation.

"You're right... I should go," he murmured, reluctance clear in his voice. He carefully untangled himself from you and got out of bed, quickly dressing. You sat up, pulling the covers around you as you watched him. "I'll call you later, okay?"

You bit your lip, nodding. "Okay... be careful," you whispered. He crossed the room and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before heading to the window. "I'll climb out the window. I don't want your dad to see me leaving," he explained in a low voice.

He pushed the window open and climbed out, waving at you before dropping down onto the lawn below. You watched as he straightened up and jogged away, disappearing into the darkness. You closed the window and locked it before climbing back into bed, your mind racing with thoughts of what had just happened.

The busy street buzzed with life, but all Jungwon could think about was shaking Mira off. She clung to his arm persistently, her grip tightening as she tilted her head with a coy smile, her words dripping with desperation.

"Jungwon, c'mon," she whined, batting her lashes in a way that might have worked on someone else. "It's just one date."

His face remained impassive, brushing her off with a subtle tug of his arm. "Mira, I'm taken." His voice was calm but firm, the words carrying a weight of finality that he hoped she would understand.

Mira, however, wasn’t one to give up so easily. She edged closer, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "You said she's in Canada, she won’t know."

Before Jungwon could even reply, a familiar voice rang out, light and full of warmth.

"Wonnie!"

His heart leapt at the sound of your voice, and he turned just in time to see you rushing toward him. Before he could process anything else, you threw yourself into his arms, and he caught you instantly, pulling you close as if it had been mere hours since he last saw you, not years. He held you like he had been waiting for this exact moment all his life.

"You're back?" His voice cracked slightly, a mixture of disbelief and excitement bubbling to the surface. He squeezed you tighter, as if to confirm you were really there, in his arms, tangible and warm. "Why didn’t you tell me? I would've picked you up from the airport."

You clung to him, burying your face in his chest, inhaling the scent of him that you had missed more than you could admit during those long years apart. It had been almost three years since graduation, and four since the start of your relationship. Three excruciating years of video calls, texts, and waiting, all because your mother had finally divorced your father and moved to Canada, taking you with her. Jungwon had promised you he'd wait, and wait he did—patiently, devotedly, even though the distance often felt unbearable.

Tears began to spill uncontrollably down your cheeks, soaking into his shirt as you sobbed into his chest. The emotions were overwhelming, the relief of being back in his arms after so long mixing with the sadness of having missed him so much.

"Why are you crying?" Jungwon asked softly, his voice filled with concern. His hands moved up to cradle the back of your head gently as he rocked you back and forth, trying to soothe you. The steady rhythm of his movements grounded you, pulling you out of the swirl of emotions that threatened to drown you.

"I'm happy, so happy," you mumbled into his chest, your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. You took a shaky breath, trying to regain your composure, and wiped your tear-streaked face with the back of your hand before looking up at him.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mira still standing there, watching the intimate moment unfold between you and Jungwon with barely concealed irritation.

"Who's she though?" You asked, gesturing toward the girl who now stood awkwardly a few feet away, her smile strained and forced.

Jungwon rolled his eyes dramatically, the exasperation clear on his face as he shifted his hold on you. "She's just a casual friend," he muttered under his breath, his tone leaving no room for interpretation.

Mira took that as her cue to awkwardly introduce herself, though it was clear she was far from pleased with the situation. "Hello. You must be his girlfriend," she mumbled, her eyes flicking between the two of you as she watched the embrace dissolve.

"Yeah," you replied simply, your tone firm but polite, unwilling to give her any satisfaction from this moment. Your grip on Jungwon tightened subtly, a quiet assertion that he was yours, and you weren’t going anywhere.

As you broke away from the hug, Jungwon leaned down to whisper into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "She's annoying," he muttered with a slight chuckle. "She was trying to get me to date her without you knowing."

You turned your head slightly, hiding a grin as you whispered back teasingly, "You should’ve gone then."

Jungwon pulled back just enough to give you an incredulous look, his brows furrowing in playful annoyance. "How could I?" he whispered back, his voice full of mock indignation. "I love you."

Mira, sensing that she had no place in this moment, let out a soft huff and turned on her heel, walking away quickly with a flick of her hair, clearly defeated. Jungwon barely glanced her way, his attention solely focused on you, his arms still wrapped around you like a protective shield.

The two of you stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, oblivious to the world around you. After years of being apart, of missed touches and long-distance calls, nothing else mattered. The noise of the city faded away, and all that was left was the sound of your heartbeats, syncing up once again after so much time spent apart.

The warm water cascaded down on you both, the steam filling the bathroom and fogging up the mirror. Jungwon's arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. His fingers gently traced patterns on your belly, sending shivers down your spine despite the heat of the water.

"It feels different, doesn't it?" Jungwon murmured, his voice low as he nuzzled his face into your wet hair, inhaling your scent. His lips found the curve of your shoulder, pressing a soft, sucking kiss there before trailing up your neck. "Being together again..."

"...not just talking on the phone or facetiming," you interjected, your voice barely a whisper, enjoying the gentle touches. His hands slowly washed your body, cleaning you with care. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, giving him better access to your neck. "I missed this."

"Mmm, me too," Jungwon hummed against your skin, his hands gliding down to your thighs, gently massaging them. The suds of the body wash made his touch slick. "I missed being able to touch you like this..."

"...to feel your heart race when I kiss your neck," he continued, his hands slowly sliding back up, skimming over your hips, your ribs, before finally resting underneath your breasts. "To hear your breath hitch when I..." He paused, his touch becoming more gentle. "Hold you like this."

His large hands cupped your breasts tenderly, his thumbs caressing the hardened peaks. He rocked his hips forward slightly, pressing his hardened length against the small of your back. "Even this... feels different. Better."

"It's... intense," you breathed out, your voice hitching as his touch became more insistent. His touch was gentle yet firm, reverent yet demanding. Your hands gripped his wrists, not to push him away, but to anchor yourself, to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensations. "Like..."

"...like we're trying to remember every detail, every feeling," you continued, your voice trembling. "Like we're starving for each other and can't get enough." Your breath caught as he squeezed your breasts gently, his thumbs rolling over your nipples. "Jungwon..."

His name fell from your lips on a soft moan as he grinded against you slowly, his mouth finding yours. His tongue delved in, deepening the kiss as his hands continued their slow exploration. The water poured down on you both, washing away the suds, but not the heat building between you.

His touch grew bolder as he turned you to face him, his hands sliding down your slick body to wrap around your thighs and lift you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back as he pressed you against the cool tiles. "Look at me," he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

Your breath hitched as you met his gaze, his eyes dark with need. His hardness prodded at your entrance, pausing there. "Remember how it was, before?" He flexed his hips forward slightly, filling you just a little. "Remember how we fit together?"

"Yes..." you whispered, your nails digging into his shoulders. He slowly pushed into you more, inch by inch, his face contorted with pleasure. "Just like that... we fit..." You threw your head back, gasping as he sheathed himself fully inside you. "Jungwon..."

His length was thick and long, stretching you to accommodate him. He pulled out slowly, his hips rolling forward again as he thrust back in, his pace measured and deliberate. His hands gripped your ass tightly, spreading your ass cheeks slightly to grant himself deeper access. "Your eyes... they get so big,"

He leaned forward, his mouth latching onto one of your hardened peaks, sucking hard as he continued his slow thrusts. He was taking his time, drawing out the pleasure for both of you. His length glided in and out of you easily, the water and the body wash acting as natural lubricant.

"Jungwon... it's... so good..." you moaned, your voice barely a whisper. Your hands clutched his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into his flesh. Your breaths came in short pants, mingling with his harsh breaths. "You're so deep... I can feel you..."

His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more insistent. The sound of water splashing filled the bathroom, accompanied by your soft moans and his ragged breathing. His mouth found yours again, swallowing your cries. His thickness caressed every inch of you, his pelvis grinding against yours with each thrust.

"You're... so warm... so tight..." he groaned against your mouth. His hands tightened on your bottom, his fingers spreading you wider as he increased his pace. The sound of their bodies slapping against each other echoed in the bathroom, accompanied by their heavy breathing. "I can't... hold back..."

"Don't... don't hold back..." you whimpered, your body tensing as he nailed a particularly sensitive spot. "Harder... Jungwon... please..." Your head lolled to the side, your breath coming in short pants.

His thrusts became brutal, his hips slamming against yours with abandon. The water in the tub splashed wildly, nearly overflowing as he fucked you with reckless abandon. His mouth latched onto your neck, biting and sucking hard as he chased his climax. "Fuck... fuck... FUCK!"

"Jungwon... yes... yes!" You cried out, your body tensing as your release neared. His thickness rubbed against you perfectly, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body clenched around him, your inner muscles milking him as you shattered around him.

"Ahhh!!" He threw his head back, his body stiffening as he found his release. He slammed into you one last time, his body shuddering as he spilled into you. His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you flush against him as he rode out his release. "Ahh..."

Finally, he collapsed against you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. You remained suspended in the water, his softening length still buried inside you. After a moment, he gently pulled out, his thick seed dripping from your stretched open hole.

You leaned back against the tub, your legs splayed wide open as you gazed at your dripping hole. A satisfied smile spread across your face as you felt the warmth of his seed coating your insides. You reached down, gently probing your stretched hole with your finger, feeling his thick load inside you.

Jungwon watched you with hooded eyes, his face flushed and his breathing still heavy. "You look so... satisfied," he commented, his voice lazy and content. He reached out, his hand mirroring yours as he gently touched your slick hole.

You looked at him, your eyes glinting mischievously. "Mmm... I am... but there's still some left..." you purred, pushing two fingers deep inside yourself and scooping out some of his seed. He watched as you brought your fingers to your mouth, sucking them clean.

His eyes widened, his pupils dilating as he watched you clean your fingers. "That's... so dirty..." he murmured, his voice laced with approval. He reached out, his own fingers mimicking yours as he gently pushed them into your stretched hole, scooping out more of his warm seed.

You moaned softly, your eyes rolling back as he fingered your hole, his fingers coated in his own seed. Jungwon brought his fingers to his mouth, licking and sucking them clean just like you had done. You watched him, your heart racing at the sight of him devouring his own essence.

"You're insatiable..." he groaned, his eyes glinting hungrily as he looked at you. His fingers delved back into your hole, pushing deep as he sought more of his release. "Let's get clean, hmm?" he suggested, his voice low and gruff.

You nodded eagerly, your body tingling with anticipation. He slowly cleaned you up, his touch gentle and caring as he washed his own essence off your body. Then, he lathered up a washcloth and began to clean himself, his face flushed and his breathing heavy. "Turn around..."

You turned around, your back pressing against his chest. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The washcloth gently cleaned your back, your sides, your stomach... and then lower. You moaned softly as he cleaned between your legs, his touch gentle yet insistent.

"Spread your legs wider..." he whispered against your ear. You complied, your thighs parting to give him better access. The warm, soapy cloth cleaned your folds, your crease, your tight little hole.

He spent extra time cleaning your hole, his fingers gently spreading you open as he washed inside you. You felt so clean, so refreshed, as he finished up and set the washcloth aside. His arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close as he nuzzled his face against your neck.

"Let's dry off..." he murmured, helping you stand. He stepped out of the tub first, then helped you out. The bathroom was filled with steam, the mirrors fogged up. He grabbed a towel and began to dry you off, his hands roaming over your body reverently.

You stood there, letting him dry you off, feeling his warm breath on your skin as he worked. When he finished with you, he dried himself off as well, his eyes never leaving yours. Once he was dry, he picked you up in his arms and carried you out of the bathroom.

You didn't know when you fell asleep but the first thing in the morning you noticed was the warmth of Jungwon’s body pressing close against yours, his arm draped lazily around your waist. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the tangled sheets that barely covered the both of you.

Your mind was slow to piece together the events of the night before, the hazy memory of falling asleep together in each other’s arms, feeling completely safe and enveloped in warmth. The soft rise and fall of Jungwon���s chest against your back was a comforting rhythm, and you let yourself linger in the moment.

Then, a sharp knock on the door broke the serenity. You stirred, blinking sleepily as you felt Jungwon’s arm tighten around your waist, his head buried deeper into the crook of your neck.

"Jungwon, there's a knock," you mumbled, your voice heavy with sleep as you tried to shift his arm off you, your fingers brushing over his in a half-hearted attempt to wake him.

"They can wait..." he grumbled, barely audible, pulling you closer as his lips ghosted against your shoulder, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment, you almost believed him—whoever it was could definitely wait. Until the sound of a familiar voice echoed from behind the door.

“Jungwon-ah, are you awake?”

You bolted upright, eyes wide, your heart immediately racing. His parents. You could barely register Jungwon’s groggy response as he rubbed his face with both hands, clearly still half-asleep, while you were already scrambling to find your clothes. You glanced over at him, eyes wide with panic as you whispered, "Are they here unannounced?"

Jungwon shot up from the bed, instantly awake at the realization. His eyes widened in disbelief, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Oh my god,” he muttered, quickly grabbing for his clothes. You hurriedly followed suit, pulling your shirt over your head as you glanced at the door nervously.

“I’m coming!” Jungwon called out, his voice slightly strained as he hopped around on one leg, trying to pull up his pants in a rush. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and you could see the flush creeping up his neck as the reality of the situation dawned on him.

You sat back on the edge of the bed, pulling your knees up to your chest, watching as Jungwon took a deep breath and stepped out of the bedroom. The door closed softly behind him, and you could hear the muffled sounds of his conversation with his parents in the other room.

“Oh… hi mom, dad,” Jungwon greeted, his voice tinged with an awkwardness that was impossible to hide. You could picture him standing at the door, scratching the back of his neck, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy. “You… you should’ve told me you were coming.”

His mom’s voice was lighthearted, as if nothing were amiss. “Do we really need to tell our son when we’re visiting?” she teased, stepping into the dorm uninvited. You could almost hear her footsteps as she walked around the room, probably inspecting every corner like mothers do.

His father’s voice came next, gruff but not unkind. “At least your dorm is clean,” he commented, as if his primary concern was whether or not the room was up to his standards. Jungwon let out a small, nervous laugh in response, clearly trying to keep the conversation light.

You could hear the subtle tension in his voice as he continued. “Uh… I’ll be right back, I just need to… shower,” he stammered, clearly struggling to act casual as he hastily excused himself. “Just… sit here for a bit, okay?”

The door to the bedroom opened again, and Jungwon slipped back inside, closing it quickly behind him as if that simple action could shield both of you from further embarrassment. His face was flushed, his ears a deep shade of pink as he leaned back against the door for a second, eyes shut.

“They’re really here,” he muttered, as if trying to process it himself.

You shook your head, laughing softly at the absurdity of the situation despite the tension swirling in the room. "Of course, they are. At least you got us out of that one... sort of."

Jungwon groaned quietly, moving towards the dresser to grab a towel, muttering under his breath about needing a miracle. You could only smile, watching him shuffle around with an awkward energy, knowing this was one morning neither of you would forget anytime soon.

After quickly showering and changing into something more comfortable—Jungwon in a loose sweatshirt that conveniently hid most of his neck, and you in one of his oversized tees—you both exchanged nervous glances before stepping out of the bedroom. The awkward tension still hung in the air as Jungwon reached for the door handle, the two of you silently hoping that his parents hadn't picked up on anything too obvious.

As the door swung open, the comforting smell of breakfast greeted you both. His mom was busy setting plates on the small dining table, her movements efficient yet graceful, while his dad sat at the table, scrolling through his phone. You noticed the slight pause in his mother’s actions when she caught sight of you, her brows raising in surprise before she quickly composed herself.

“Oh,” she said, the surprise melting into a knowing smile. “Is she your girlfriend? The one from Canada?”

Jungwon’s ears instantly turned red, his fingers tightening on the door handle as he gave a shy nod. “Y-Yeah,” he mumbled, glancing nervously at his father, who looked completely oblivious to the conversation until now.

His dad blinked, clearly confused by the sudden revelation. “Canada?” he repeated, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked between you and Jungwon, trying to piece things together.

Feeling the awkwardness settle around the table like an unwanted guest, Jungwon led you both to the dining area, where you carefully took your seat next to him. You made sure to sit up straight, shoulders relaxed but composed, not wanting to make any wrong impressions. After all, meeting your partner’s parents for the first time, especially under such unexpected circumstances, was nerve-wracking enough.

As you slid into the chair, you nudged Jungwon lightly with your elbow, your voice soft but filled with curiosity. “You told them about me?”

Jungwon let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck—his fingers brushing dangerously close to the hickey he’d tried so hard to hide. “Well… kind of?” he replied, his voice rising slightly at the end, as if even he wasn’t sure of his own answer.

You barely had time to react when his mother appeared by the table, a warm smile on her face as she set down plates of egg toast in front of everyone. The golden, buttery aroma filled the room, momentarily easing the tension, but only for a moment. Just as you reached for your fork, his father’s voice cut through the silence.

“What’s that?” His dad’s eyes were narrowed in on Jungwon’s neck, specifically the faint purple mark peeking out from under his sweatshirt. The color drained from Jungwon’s face as he instinctively slapped a hand over the spot, clearly panicking.

“Oh, this?” Jungwon stammered, his voice suddenly an octave higher than usual. He swallowed hard before blurting out the first excuse that came to mind. “It’s, uh… a mosquito bite.”

You could practically feel the heat radiating from his embarrassment, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. His father, however, was far from convinced. He raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical as he leaned back in his chair. “A mosquito bite that big?”

Jungwon’s fingers tightened around his fork, his face burning with mortification. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words just wouldn’t come. Desperate to save him from any further embarrassment, you quickly jumped in, plastering on the brightest smile you could muster.

“Oh, aunty!” you said, your voice filled with enthusiasm as you turned to his mom, completely shifting the conversation. “Your hair looks gorgeous! Where did you get it done? It really suits you!”

Jungwon let out a silent breath of relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing as the attention shifted away from him. His mom, clearly flattered by the compliment, absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her expression softening as she smiled at you.

“Oh, thank you!” she said, her tone warming with motherly pride. “I got it done at this little salon near our house. I wasn’t sure if the color would suit me, but I’m glad you like it.”

You nodded eagerly, leaning into the conversation as if you hadn’t just saved your boyfriend from one of the most awkward moments of his life. “It really brings out your eyes,” you added, feeling Jungwon’s hand under the table give your knee a grateful squeeze.

As his mom continued to talk about her favorite salon, the conversation flowed smoothly—albeit with a few nervous glances exchanged between you and Jungwon. But for now, at least, the hickeys and last night’s chaos were safely tucked away, hidden under layers of polite conversation and egg toast.

You quietly took a bite of your egg toast, nodding along as Jungwon's parents chatted animatedly at the table. Suddenly, a familiar warmth settled on your thigh, and you felt a gentle squeeze that sent a shiver down your spine. You darted a glance at Jungwon, who was casually munching on his breakfast, acting innocent despite his hand now resting firmly on your leg.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, leaning slightly toward him, your voice low but urgent.

“Just touching my girlfriend. I’m allowed to, right?” he murmured back, a playful grin tugging at his lips as he took another calm bite, his hand lingering where it shouldn’t.

“You can, but not here,” you hissed, your eyes flicking quickly toward his parents to make sure they were still oblivious.

Jungwon’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Finish up quick then, I need you... but I can wait until Mom and Dad leave,” he murmured, his hand softly tracing patterns on your thigh.

“Wonnie,” you whisper-teased, trying to stifle a laugh, “you should wait.” You lightly slapped his hand away, giving him a pointed look.

He pouted, clearly enjoying the game, but kept quiet as you both continued breakfast, hoping his parents hadn't noticed the quiet exchange.

• september seventeen, 14:37

masterlist.

p.sh | upcoming.

© iconchae | tumblr

[joelsflower]

love language | origins!logan x f!reader

logan told you one million times he didn’t want anything for his birthday… anything besides you, lingerie and the moonlight.

a/n: hiiii <33 lis disappeared but is back again and apparently still obsessed with the concept of hot old men unwrapping you like a present. the hugh jackman fever hit me VERY hard and im down bad cough cough enjoy! also to enhance the experience when i say “he looked up at you” pls picture him exactly like in this picture ☝🏼and expect to feel something growing in ur belly in the next 9 months

wc: 4k

warnings: 18+ mdni. pure smut and fluff!! lingerie, logan is obsessed w reader, older!logan (i picture him in origins cause wtf is this man and reader in her early/middle 20s but up to you! legal ofc!!) fingering and eating out but brief cause reader is hot to go!, blowjob, facefucking & deepthroat (not rough), unprotected piv (wrap it up!), creampie, AFTERCARE!!! like SO MUCH logan is soooo soft!dom in this the whole time is like toothache sweet cause it’s a lis fic and yes. they are IN LOVE yall. oh and also reader is a kindergarten teacher (oops

🎀🎀🎀

“Stay”

You grabbed his wrist the moment he recollected his will to leave the end of the bed. Logan’s eyes turned soft, finding you from over his shoulder and turning around to follow the sunlight that kissed your cheeks.

“I wish, angel,” he cooed, both hands brushing your cheeks while his body towered over you “but someone already made me late, huh?”

You gave him a shy smile to meet the smirk that adorned his features, both of you sharing the memories of your bodies tangled just minutes prior. “Wanted to give you a present,” you almost whispered, remembering the one hundred times he told you he didn’t want anything for his birthday.

Not a cake, not a present, not a party. Nothing. Just you.

Logan’s smile faded, but you knew he wasn’t mad. With large hands embracing your neck softly, he kissed you on the forehead, “told you,” on the nose, “you are,” on the jaw, “the only thing i want”, and on your mouth, leaving the taste of him to linger on your lips throughout the whole day.

Your eyes slowly drifted up to find his gaze, the back of your head now resting on his palms.

“Promise” he gave you a sterner look before walking towards the door, “I promise,” you whispered, following as the smile you had earned earlier returned to his face, his back only turning to you when he heard the words fall from your lips.

But it was only a half promise. After all, he still wanted nothing but you, right?

🎀🎀🎀

The day passed by very slowly. You didn’t work on fridays, so you spent the most of it correcting some grades and planning the activities for your next week’s classes. You missed the kids, you can’t lie, and having glue and glitter all over your house definitely distracted you from the little something that was waiting patiently inside a very fancy box on the back of your closet.

The sun was setting around the time Logan would be home and you also had finished all the things you had planned earlier, so you used the time you had to take a shower and get ready.

The scent of some very sweet flower graced your nostrils when you pulled the lid of the heart-shaped box. Your eyes glowed in awe when your fingertips brushed the delicate baby pink lace, the little hairs on your lower belly goosebumping with anticipation, thinking how beautiful you’d feel in it and how the man that loved you would feel about you in it.

And that’s when you heard his steps on the stairs.

Logan arrived silently, and in part to make sure you hadn’t burnt yourself out making some sort of surprise for him. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, but all the glitter and glue on the table and the all the silence scared him a bit.

“Baby?” He called you while undressing himself down to his black t-shirt and boxers. “Oh, hey you,” his expression softened when his eyes found your head peaking from the bathroom door, gaze savoring the sight of him slowly unbuckling his belt.

“How was your day?” you asked watching him from the same spot, the muscles of his arms flexing when he reached to close the door and turn off the lights. Exactly how he said, the only things he wanted for his birthday were you, the lingerie he still didn’t know about, and the moon watching the two of you through the window.

“Great. Apparently someone told the guys it was my birthday and they let me work on paper today. So… Not so tired as I usually am.”

“I’m not sorry for that,” you smiled, knowing exactly who told the guys it was his birthday.

“I know,” he reciprocated your smirk, offering a hand in your direction. “Come here.”

Your breath got momentarily caught in your throat, excitement bursting in your body like fireworks in your veins.

“Close your eyes,” you said.

“Sweetheart-“

“Please?”

And how could he not? When your soft voice asked so nicely for him to? And the sweet and at the same time sexy scent of your perfume bewitched his thoughts? With your eyelashes blinking up at him and making the cold of his claws run to the lower of his spine? If closing his eyes would end the distance between you, then he would.

You then stepped carefully towards him, trying not to bump onto his knees and ruin the surprise.

You took both of his hands within yours, playing his fingers with your smaller ones. The simple contact made him shiver, the warmth of your presence washing all his tiredness and worries away.

“Could sit here with my eyes closed and just smell you forever”

You grinned. You knew his senses were heightened and definitely wanted to play with it tonight.

“Well, you told me you didn’t want to receive anything,” you then brought his hands to the sides of your thighs, the firmness of his palms on your soft skin sending shivers up and down your belly.

“Not totally true,” he thumbed your leg, fingertip brushing dangerously close to the fabric.

“Mhmm,” your hands glued on top of his and guided them a little lower, his palms now resting on top of the delicate, lacy garters adorning your thighs, “but I want you to feel it.”

Logan’s thoughts were in completely caos. Which of course, could only be translated by the grin on his face. You were close enough that he could not only smell your perfume and your scent, but knowing that he was the one causing that and with so little effort drove him insane. He could hear your accelerated heartbeat and used the grip on your legs to soothe you, moving his thumbs up and down, up and down, very slowly, feeling the contrast between the lacy fabric and your thighs.

“Yeah?”

You agreed silently, using your grip to move one of his hands all the way up to your belly in a very slow motion, to then release them both and let Logan’s fingers dance freely around your body.

The one hand he kept down gripped your thigh harder, snaking down to the back of your knee to bend it over his own leg, giving him better access to the rest of you. The thumb on your belly caressed around of your belly button in small circles and traced all the little flowers and bows on the thing garter that hugged your waist and decorated your breasts. The image being painted on Logan’s mind was already enough to make his underwear start to stiffen.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, and it felt like the first fresh breath he had taken in the day.

The contrast of his rough digits with your delicate skin made your body a too tight space to contain yourself, inching closer to him at every touch. He then surrounded your middle with both of his arms and gave your stomach a kiss, your fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck when he moved his face upwards, his chin rested on your tummy, eyes inching to meet yours.

“Can I see you, princess? Please?”

You hummed a quiet “mhmm”, and when he looked up at you with the most lovelorn eyes you had ever seen, you weren’t strong enough to hold back and kissed him.

It felt like the first kiss you two have had in a lifetime; deep, warm and wet. Your tongues danced together while his arms kept you impossibly closer, hands tightly holding from the back of your thighs to the top of your spine. When you parted to breathe, his eyes found yours again;

“There’s my girl. Let me see you, baby,” he held your hand in his and you took his signal to do a little spin, showing him your lacy one-piece.

“Happy birthday, love” you whispered, hands resting on his shoulders to balance yourself, one leg returning to rest on his.

“So you’re my present, hm?” Logan waited for you silent confirmation, palms devouring your thighs and ass while the kisses that he so gently placed on your knee slowly inched forward, “and do I get to unwrap you, angel?”

At that moment your walls were already pulsing with desire and your mind was already empty of words. You felt his lips wrap at a very special place on your inner thigh while his opposite hand moved up to message one of your boobs. You knew it wouldn’t take much for any of you to release control and quit the teasing, and being both on the verge of bursting the whole day waiting for the other, that was the time and the place.

You whimpered when his hand moved down and cupped your clothed center, his lips now distributing pecks on your hip while your nails dig in his shoulders.

“Gonna let me taste you, sweet girl? Hm?” He kissed your beating clit trough the lace and you nodded your head fastly, not being able to hold back anymore. You knew very well the animalistic look he had on his eyes now and the way his hands couldn’t rest in just one spot; he wanted nothing but to devour, explore and adore you.

With your consent, Logan wasted no time in sliding the delicate fabric to the side to meet your leaking pussy. The groan that left his chest when he saw your juices dripping to down your legs put your whole body on fire, followed by the cold that ran through your veins when two of his digits gently spread your lips apart.

“Fuck, look at you,” his thumb toyed with your clit, drawing little circles with a small pressure of the pad, “that’s how wet this little pussy gets for me, hm? Left you waiting the whole day to take care of you… Bad ol’ man, ain’t I?”

“N-no, you’re g-ood,” you managed to take the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head and nails digging impossibly deeper into his shoulders when his digits lowered down and teased your opening, “and I wanna. Fuck. Wanna be good for you, Logan.”

“Oh, you are, princess. You’re my best girl.”

Pressing your clit between his lips and tongue, he sucked and savoured on it as if you were the source of all life on the planet, the most succulent fruit to the most starving man, like he himself once said; the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. His fingers pumped in and out of your hole rhythmically, hitting deeper and deeper each time. His other hand gripped your ass tightly and pressed your lower body impossibly closer to his face, making you moan loudly with all the stimulation.

You felt your walls start to clench his digits and pulled his head back by his hair to join your mouths in a wet, hot kiss, your other hand slowly removing his own from your sopping pussy, your shaking legs leading you to straddle him.

In his lap, the kiss only deepened; your and his movements were desperate, constantly searching for each other. You gripped his shirt by the collar and helped him take it off of his body, his muscular torso greeting you. Your hands eagerly pressed against his chest while Logan dig his fingers deep into your waist and moved you back and forth, your cunt pooling his underwear with the grinding of your exposed center on his throbbing and neglected cock.

“Wait- Logan, wait,” you pulled his roots again, making him moan.

“I’m here,” he rest his forehead on yours, fingers playing with the ends of your head while your breaths and heartbeats found the other’s rhythm.

“Wanna suck on you”

“Get on your knees for me then,” he demanded after a moment staring at you, trying to hide in his smile the excitement that flooded through his body.

You removed your body from his finding balance on his shoulder, lowering down to your knees on the carpet with the help of his arms around you.

He looked so, so beautiful like this. His prince hair and strong shoulders outerlined by the glowing moonlight that touched his back. His arm muscles tensin when one palm rested on his thigh and the other lowered down to finger-kiss your face. The “thank you, I love you” look he had on his eyes the whole time you were together. Who wouldn’t get get on their knees for this?

“That’s it princess, comfortable there?” You nodded and spread his legs a little, giving you space to kneel closer. He gave you another peck on the lips and moved his hands to rest flat on the bed, giving you all the freedom to do your thing.

You started by running your hands up and down his thighs while kissing down his abdomen, the thick path of hairs on his belly tickling your lips. Slowly, your hand snaked to his boxers while your mouth kept him distracted, licking the angry veins on his happy trail.

You palmed him eagerly, the volume of his member filling your whole palm and a little more. This first contact was enough to earn a raspy groan from his chest and some beads of precum that pooled on the little wet patch between his tip and boxers, where you butterfly-kissed before finally putting his underwear down.

You used your hands to spread his precum down and pump him a bit, desperate to have him in your mouth, you kept moving up and down while your mouth lowered to wrap around his tip, nursing on it like it was your favorite lollipop.

Your messiness has Logan seeing stars. Spit and precum was all over your face already, tongue darting up and down his shaft with desire. He almost screamed when your fingers played with the very top of his head and you lowered your mouth to his balls, suckling each into your mouth carefully.

“Jesus baby, that’s my girl, fuck-“

But it wasn’t enough. You were starved for him, for his pleasure. You waited the whole day to see his mouth hanging in bliss and you also wanted him to have what he wanted. You took his mouth of off his balls and kept lazily stroking him, lashes batting up to meet his eyes, “Fuck my mouth?”

Logan couldn’t believe how such a cute thing like you could look so sexy saying such filthy words. He loved it.

“Are you sure?” You nodded.

He then motioned for you to scoot back a little so he could get up, positioning himself in front of you, now both of you in front of the bed, sides facing the window.

He could die like this. The last thing he would ever see in his life could easily be you, on your knees, fucked out face with his precum and spit all over your face, with the moonlight reflecting on your rounded eyes just waiting for him to love on you. And he would die peacefully.

“Gonna start real gentle, ‘kay?” he assured you while brushing your hair back to hold it in his hands, one wrapping around the strands at the back of your head and the other holding his member.

“Lemme see this pretty tongue, baby’” he waited for your mouth to hang open and positioned his tip on top of your waiting tongue, tapping and circling it there. Logan kept teasing you (and himself) for a moment like this, smearing the leaking tip of his cock all over your mouth, tracing your tongue and lips at a torturing pace until he understood the desperate look in your widened eyes and scrunched brows, a silent “please”.

“Shh, gonna give you what y’want, princess. Suck on the tip, hm? Just the tip. Like you were doing before,” you loved when he ordered you around like this, especially when he looked so big towering over you and his voice was so low and deep like it was right now. You wasted no time in closing your already plump lips around him and deliciously suffocating his bulbous head in your mouth.

“That’s it bub, fuck. That’s my girl,” he loved when you were so obedient like you were right now during sex, his own little princess. His free hand stroked the part of his cock that wasn’t enveloped by your lips, using the mix of your spit and his own precum that was everywhere by now.

Your hands left your lap to dig into his thighs and your movements started to get more shallow, eyelids heaving and lashes blinking slowly up at him. You knew what you wanted, and Logan knew too, and he was gonna give it you.

The hand that was on his cock moved up to hold your jaw and the back of your head, inclining it up a bit so your face was now completely turned to him. This simple move of his already made his cock slip a little further into your mouth, taking a moan from both of you.

“Shhh, angel, yeah, that’s it,” his firm hold in the back of your head allowed you to stop moving and he slowly started to move his hips, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth carefully to not gag you. Not right now, at least. “Gonna give it to you slow, baby. You can take it, can’t you?” He knew an answer for you wouldn’t be exactly available at the moment, but you gave your best to manage out a nod, “know you can, bub.”

Logan kept his pace for a while before roughening and fastening it a bit to prepare you, tightening his grip on your head and steading the movements of his hips, his cock now halfway into your mouth, in and out, in and out. He felt your lips and throat loosening and the gagging sounds leaving your lips were driving him insane, his bones were on fire from keeping back and not just fuck your throat like he (and you) wanted.

When his tip kissed the edge of your throat you let your eyes close and your hands fall to his calf, letting him know you were ready, “just a bit more, sweet girl, just-“ his tip entered your throat with ease, curving a bit to follow its anatomy. When your lips finally touched the hairs on his base and his whole cock was seated into your hot mouth, he stilled completely.

You could hear his heavy breathing as if he ran a marathon in five minutes. The silence between the two of you letting you know that if he said or did anything he was surely cuming at that right moment. Logan’s eyes were closed and his head turned to the ceiling, brows furrowed trying to contain himself.

Your fingers caressed his leg slightly, reminding him you were ready, and when his gaze turned down to give you attention, dark and serious, like a big wolf preying down a little bunny, you knew what he was feeling. It faded quickly though when his eyes found yours, his rough expression turning into a smile, “you’re my best girl, aren’t you? That’s what y’wanted babe? To choke on my dick?”

You blinked your eyes assuringly, the heaviness of your eyelids taking a sexy, deep laugh from his chest. His hand left your head momentarily to caress your cheek with the back of his point finger, “think you can swallow for me?” he whispered.

You’ve done that before, and the feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced, the both of you. And you felt that it was coming by the calm and patient way he was dealing with you tonight. Logan was always careful to ask for things that edged your limits, always trying his best to keep you safe and comfortable. And who were you to deny the birthday boy what he was asking for?

You prepared yourself and slowly clenched your throat, suffocating his tip in the curve of it. Tears involuntarily pooled and fell from your eyes with the overstimulation and the feeling of oh, being so full of him, of his cock angrily pulsing in the whole extent of your mouth and now your throat. Logan’s eyes turned to the back of his head and his mouth hanged open, his fingers flexing in your hair to not lose control.

“O-one more time ba-“ and before he could even finish his sentence you were swallowing him down again, this time earning a loud and raspy groan from him, “fuck! baby, c’mon,” he carefully pulled himself from your mouth, cock hanging angry and desperate from your activities. “Need to feel you,” and kissed you hungrily.

He pulled you by your arms and intertwined them around his neck, tapping your bum slightly in a sign for you to jump in his lap. Logan was careful to drop you on the bed, never parting your lips and laying with his whole body weight on top of you. The hairs on his chest feathering over your nipples and the kiss of his tip over your folds were growing in you a type of desire you couldn’t quite decipher.

Sweat, spit and love were everywhere, your bodies swayed under the moonlight as if you were one. While your tongues fought for space into the other’s mouth, he reached a hand down and starting to thumb your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure that had your mouth unplugging from his with a whine. When you felt his head finally circling your hole, you released him and turned around.

“Like that?” Logan watched as you switched positions, large palm finding your lower back while you placed yourself tummy down on the bed. “Can we?” you whispered, looking at him over your shoulder.

Logan smiled; if you kept being this cute he was going to fuck the sense out of you without effort. His other hand reached behind your knee and lifted it, giving him more easy access to you. Positioning himself into your entrance, he slipped his cock up and down your folds, your juices mixing in a squelching sound.

When he felt your hole flutter and your eyes close, your smaller fingers gripping the sheets, he reached up and kissed a drying tear in your cheek, “shhh baby, g’na go slow, ‘kay?” you nodded. There’s no exaggeration, Logan was big. Big and wide and veiny and filled you in all the right places.

The moment his head eased into you, you were seeing stars. The way your walls spread to welcome his girth made your mind fuzzy and all your senses heightened, the moan he left ecoed in your brain and the touch of his hand embracing yours burned like fire. He slowly pressed forward until his cock was perfectly engulfed inside you, both his member and your walls pulsing in unison.

“Move,” you mewled, fingers gripping his thumb in need. Logan used the hand on the small of your back to balance himself, starting to pump in an out at a perfect pace; not so fast but not so slow, deep, deep as he could to kiss every inch of your cunt and rearrange your insides.

“Pussy so warm, angel. Gripping me so tight,” he sad in your ear, “my little sweet gift.”

Stars exploded all the way down your spine, the fullness of his cock pumping your pussy and the weight of his body pressing on top of yours drove you over the edge, your walls gripping him tightly while you came, bringing his thumb into your mouth.

“That’s it, sweet girl, come for me,” he kissed your temple, “gush this cock, it’s all yours,” Logan slowed his pace inside you to let you calm down, caressing your hair and distributing kisses around your teary eyes.

“Think you can take a bit more, princess?” he whispered gently in your ear, his cock still throbbing inside you, “just a bit and I’ll be done. So I can fill your pussy up and good? Keep you full and plugged with me, hm?” You nodded with his thumb still between your lips and felt his hips meet your ass again.

It was so good. The overstimulation had you throbbing nonstop and your head in the clouds. Logan’s groans and moans were music to your ears along with his “that’s it, princess, fuck”, “whose’s pussy is this, hm? All mine to fuck and love on, ain’t it?”, “yeah, baby, that’s my sweet girl. Taking it so good f’me”, until he himself could take anymore, his cock pulsating and balls stiffening, until his voice got muffled by a low groan and you felt his seed fill you completely, gushing your insides and spilling down and off your walls.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whispered, tired. His forehead rested on your temple as you both calmed down, breathing harmonised. Logan awaited until you opened your eyes and delicately pulled his thumb from your mouth, brushing your hair off of your face.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you reciprocated, receiving a little peck on the lips, that turned into many many kisses all over your face while his palm messaged your back. “Thank you, sweetheart. Gonna pull out now, ‘kay?”

While Logan left to the bathroom to clean himself and find a cloth to clean you, you rested your chin on your forearms and stared up at the full moon through the window, sweetly reminiscing the last hour and thanking her for him. On moments like these all your mind could process was Logan Logan Logan.

“Here, bub,” he carefully whipped the fluids from your pussy, the pair of you giggling when you clenched in sensitivity, “c’mon, I draw the bath.”

You hand Logan spent another hour in the warm bath, cleaning and caressing and stealing kisses while the bubbles danced on your skin. You rested your head on his chest and lifted one finger, using the others to simulate a lighter to lit up the “candle”. “Here, make a wish,” you motioned it in front of his face, taking a laugh from him, who closed his eyes and made some funny faces to amuse you. He then blew your finger and playfully bit it, “what did you wish?”

“Well, I can’t tell you, can I?”

You kissed him and closed your eyes, laying back to your position on his shoulder.

“You. You’re my only wish.”

🎀🎀🎀

[pantherxrogers]

earned it - yunho x fem!reader (smut 18+)

pairing: soft dom!Yunho x sub!reader

warnings: porn w/o plot, smut 18+ only, spanking, dacryphilia, dom/sub dynamics, ass play, explicit language, fluffy aftercare, probably more that I missed :/

summary: yunho spanks you. that’s literally it lmao. 🤭

a/n: such beautiful, beautiful hands 🙂‍↕️

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

tears stream down your cheeks, blurring your vision and turning your thoughts to mush. but, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

every time you squirm, your sensitive nipples sweep against yunho’s slacks. he’s fully clothed, while you’re naked and on your knees, bent over his lap. you feel his smooth hands run over your ass, toying with you.

“fuck, look at this ass,” he grunts, roughly groping the supple skin. he lands a few quick swats, watching the way your ass recoils from the contact.

“yuyu, it hurts,” you whine, yet you push your ass further against his hand. the chuckle he lets out makes you feel pathetic. but it also causes a fresh wave of arousal between your legs.

“i know, baby. it’s supposed to hurt,” he coos, using his other hand to squish your cheeks together. he nearly groans at your expression, the lust in your eyes is tangible.

he takes in the way mascara runs down your face, ruining the pretty makeup you applied just a few hours ago. he loves the glassy look in your eyes, peering up at him like he holds the moon and stars. he can see the pleading in your expression, and it only makes his pants tighter.

craning his neck down, he guides you into a sloppy kiss, wetting your full lips. he licks into your mouth, laying claim to it. your soft mewls egg him on, promoting him to spank you even harder than before. the way you whimper against his lips is everything, and he pulls back to see his handiwork.

“you are such a slut, aren’t you?”

all you can do is stare up at him, barely registering what he’s saying to you. you nod your head, agreeing to anything that comes from his lips. the need to please him is strong, lulling you into a state of complete submission.

“hmm, my baby is so obedient. maybe i should give you a reward.” the next thing you know, his finger prod at your entrance.

he’s gathering your wetness, taking his time rubbing between your folds. you can’t hold back your moans, wiggling as much as you can to guide him towards your clit. you can feel it throbbing, begging to be touched.

“p-please yuyu, i’ve been so go- shit!” you yelp, unable to focus on anything outside of the way his fingers stretch you out. he’s starting with two, using his thumb to massage your sensitive clit.

“a little spanking got you this wet? damn, you really are a whore,” he chuckles, speeding up the movement of his fingers. despite the harsh words, he uses his other hand to gently cup your chin. he’s looking into your eyes, almost like he’s hypnotized by your gaze.

“i’m always wet for you, yuyu,” you hum, biting your lip. you don’t miss the way his eyes drop down, hyper focused on your pout.

“such a good slut.” there’s pride in his voice, making your heart flutter. you love his praise, and it’s pushing you near the edge.

you involuntarily flutter around his fingers, making it harder for yunho to continue stretching you out. he continues rubbing your clit, maneuvering his other hand to pull back the hood even further.

“oooo, fuck. ‘m too sensitive, yuyu,” you whine, simultaneously bucking your hips into his assault on your clit.

“you’re okay, baby. you’re okay,” he soothes, drawing languid circles against your nub. he can feel the way you clench on his fingers, spasming at random moments. an idea strikes him, knowing exactly what to do to push you over the edge.

gathering spit in his mouth, he lets it drip down to your asshole. using his left hand to strum your clit, he uses his right to push a finger into your asshole. it’s tight and warm, and he doesn’t miss the way you wiggle back onto it.

your moans increase in volume, overwhelmed by the stimulation of your clit and tight hole. you see white, reaching your high and letting your moans echo throughout your bedroom. yunho’s actions continue throughout your orgasm, satisfying you until the very end.

he chuckles at the way you slump further into his thighs, completely spent. easing his fingers out of you, he repositions you to cradle in his arms.

his aftercare is top tier, whispering sweet nothings as you come back down to earth. his hands are gentle as they caress your body, making sure you feel safe and secure.

you sink further into his grasp, melting into the warmth of his embrace. you feel your eyelids growing heavy, unable to think about anything aside from laying here with your lover.

“hold on, honey. just need to get you to the bathroom,” he hums, standing up to carry you bridal style.

the rest of the night passes without much fanfare. yunho gently cleans you up, helping you get ready for bed. the two of you shower together, yunho doing most of the work. he loves moments like this, fully doting on you and making you feel grounded. it makes him feel grounded, too.

after the shower, he knows it’s time for you to get some rest. as he tucks you into bed, you immediately seek out his warmth, snuggling into his side. you let out a satisfied sigh, finally settled in for the night.

“thank you for taking care of me, yuyu,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. he gently cups your chin, planting a slow peck to your lips.

“anytime, my angel. thank you for trusting me,” he replies, wrapping his arms around your frame. before long he hears your breath slow and feels your body relax.

he glances down, smiling at your state of serenity. with a swell of pride in his chest, he relaxes against the mattress. shutting his eyes, he’s ready to dream of you. little does he know, you’re dreaming of him, too.

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (13/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, unprotected sex, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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They were betrothed.

He never thought that marriage would be something in his life that he would look forward to with contentment – he knew that his destiny would be to wed the daughter of some pathetic lord who wanted a bite of the cake that was the Crown and the Iron Throne.

He couldn't imagine himself in the role of a husband: a man courting the heart and love of his wife, falling asleep and waking at the side of some foreign woman who would suddenly invade his space.

He thought then with relief that indeed, in their wisdom, the measters had acted properly for centuries, giving spouses separate chambers so that they could live apart from each other in peace, except for their duties of bringing their inheritance into the world.

And then he abducted his cousin.

He enjoyed observing her from the distance as she practised archery – in the breaks between sparring with Ser Criston, he watched as she stood sideways to a target in front of her and with a calm, gentle expression on her face, pulled the string to her soft cheek, suddenly letting go, her arrow hitting the center of the target straight on.

He realised that he didn't feel the need to run away from her, as he did with Floris, because she never invaded his personal space – she never tried to follow him, she never begged for his attention, his word or his gaze – she simply existed and graciously allowed him to wander around her, which for him was a refreshing sensation.

He longed to know her, longed to be close to her, but on his own terms – the fact that he decided for himself when he approached her, when they spoke to each other, when they lied in bed together, gave him an surprising sense of freedom and lightness.

Another man might have taken her approach as indifference, but he knew it was otherwise – he could feel it in her fingers clenching on his bare, sweaty skin as he pounded into her with low grunts of pleasure, hear it in her sweet, helpless moans, see it in the hot, warm gaze of her doe eyes.

She spared him no tenderness when they were alone – on the contrary, she was sweet and smiling, beautiful in her wonderful nudity, making neither of them ashamed of their negligee or their desires anymore.

"What is it?" He asked, looking intrigued at the jug with which she had walked into his chamber, wearing nothing but her nightgown and a light blue robe thrown over her shoulders, smiling from ear to ear.

She lifted her chin high, as if proud of herself, a joyful contentment in her dark eyes from which he felt a pleasant warmth in his chest.

For some reason, she was never afraid of him or his cool demeanour, of what he would think of her or how he would react.

His little dragon.

He sighed and twisted in his place, putting the book he had prepared for her aside, lying on his bed in only his breeches, used to the fact that they both no longer even pretended that she was coming to him for anything other than to spend the night with him.

True, he still taught her, but usually only after they had satisfied their desires, lying in each other's arms, reading together short stories written in Old Valyrian.

He looked at her calmly as she approached his bed and reached for one of the metal cups, pouring into it a pleasantly scented, steaming liquid that had a light, brown colour.

"When I was a child I often had trouble falling asleep. My nanny would then bring me warm milk mixed with honey and ground grains brought from distant Essos. I tried to prepare it the way she did and recreate that taste." She said and took her first sip.

She smiled and licked her full, pink lips that gave him the sweetest kisses every night, her face expressing a kind of melancholy.

"I want you to taste it. It's delicious, it's sweet, it's warm, it soothes the nerves and doesn't dull you, unlike the poppy milk you drink." She said softly, handing him the cup.

He took it from her hesitantly and sniffed the contents first, wondering if she might have added poison to the contents – however, he decided that after all, she had tasted it herself first, and the drink did indeed smell good.

He took a tentative sip and swallowed, feeling the smooth taste of milk, honey and something else that melted pleasantly over his tongue combine into a wonderfully delicious whole.

He blinked, thinking he felt like drinking even more.

"These are very expensive cocoa seeds. I found out you have them in the Red Keep, the cooks sometimes add them to cakes. I ground them by hand for you. Do you like it?" She asked uncertainly, as if some part of her feared he would be disappointed and not share her enthusiasm.

"It's delicious. Very tasty indeed." He confessed, handing her the cup, and she smiled happily in the way he loved, her eyes shining warmly as she took another sip, handing the vessel back to him.

"I'm glad to hear it. If you want, I can prepare it for us for a good night's sleep. There are no side effects." She said lightly, and he hummed under his breath, taking another sip, deeper this time, and licked his lips, feeling the wonderful taste of the liquid spill over his palate, a pleasant warmth in his stomach.

"Come here." He hummed, putting his arm around her, and in some natural reflex she clung to him, cuddling her face into his cheek.

"We must decide who will lead you down the aisle." He said calmly, running his free hand down her back, the other hand passing her the cup.

She looked at him surprised and blinked.

"Isn't it obvious? My cousin, Lord Royce. He was like a father to me." She muttered, surprised by the question, swallowing a deep gulp of the liquid, passing the cup into his hand.

He looked away and swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in his throat.

"It's impossible, hāedar." He said coolly, drinking the contents of the vessel to the end – he felt her place her hand on his chest, looking at him in disbelief.

"Why? He despises Daemon after what he did to my mother." She said in pain.

He licked his lips and set the cup down on the table next to his bed, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

"He remains a vassal of House Arryn. He is the head of House Royce, which rules Runstone, and that means he won't be able to attend our nuptials. Even if he had received an invitation, he will not arrive." He said, finally looking into her eyes, meeting her horrified gaze full of pain and disbelief.

"He will arrive. Of course he'll arrive, it's my wedding." She muttered in a breaking voice, clasping her hands on his shoulders, stroking them as if to convince him and herself.

"This would mean opposing Lady Arryn's allies. Daemon is in Harrenhal and will burn them once he learns of their treachery. I am sorry, zaldrītsos." He whispered, and she rose from her seat and moved towards the door, startling him completely.

"Hāedar. Hāedar, come back here." He said, standing up behind her, grabbing her arm and turning her around before she could open the door.

"I don't need anyone. I'll walk down the aisle myself." She said coldly, not looking him in the eye, trying to pull away from him – he put his arm around her waist and her body slammed against his, her breath caught in her throat.

She pressed her lips together, her eyes red from the tears she refused to let flow.

"I understand your grief. My grandfather is on his way to King's Landing at my command. He will become my Hand. If you will allow me, I would like him to accompany you on this journey." He muttered, pressing his nose against her warm, soft cheek.

Don't go, he thought.

"He's a stranger to me. I don't want him or anyone else." She growled with rage, finally closing her eyes and bursting into an angry, mournful sob.

"Since he is my grandfather, he is also yours. Our father is dead. Our brother lies in bed, unable to rise. It must be him, hāedar." He whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb, wanting her to finally understand that there was no longer such a thing as her family and his family.

Now there was only their family.

She swallowed hard, looking up at him in shock, her lips parted wide as if it took her a moment to realise what he was trying to tell her.

"Do you understand what I mean, zaldrītsos?" He asked, stroking her chin with his knuckles, and she nodded, snuggling into his chest like a small child.

He exhaled quietly, feeling relieved, enclosing her in the tight embrace of his arms, placing warm, loud kiss on the top of her head.

"– that's my girl – come here –" He hummed and caught her under her hips, lifting her up – her legs crossed over his back, her arms thrown around his neck as he carried her to his bed and lay down with her.

"– I – I'd rather not –" She mumbled in a breaking voice and he kissed her forehead, understanding what she wanted to say to him.

What she needed now was comfort, the tender embrace and safety of his arms, not for him to fuck her.

Though he would never say it out loud, he understood it better than anyone.

"– shhh – sleep – I won't take you, sweet girl –" He whispered into her ear, combing his fingers through her soft, dark hair – she snuggled tighter into his body at his words, her lungs leaving a quiet, sweet sigh.

They fell asleep in each other's arms with their legs intertwined, their faces sunk into each other's bodies in an embrace that was strangely tender and natural, as if they had spent their nights like this not for months but for years.

He dreamt he was a child – he was lying in his chamber the night he tamed Vhagar, howling in pain, feeling his freshly sewn eyelid stripped of its eyeball pulsate, all swollen, tears of horror, grief and sadness rolling down his face.

Where was his little sister?

Why was she not with him?

Why was he alone?

"Hāedar," he seemed to call out in a weak, squeaky, childish voice towards the door, "hāedar, I am scared."

"Lēkia."

He shuddered and pulled himself up on his bed, sitting up, panting loudly as if he had made some great physical effort, cold sweat on his back, his cheeks hot with tears. He glanced sideways, only after a moment realising that someone's hand was stroking his arm – he looked at her sleepy, sweet face, her pleasant, fresh scent filling his nostrils.

"Why weren't you by my side then?" He muttered, feeling himself quivering all over, picking at the cuticles around his fingernails exactly as his mother always did.

He couldn't remember why she hadn't come to him then.

He couldn't remember her face when she was a child.

Their moments together.

Why?

His not fully awake mind could not comprehend it, a heavy grief filled his heart.

She blinked and shook her head, wrinkling her eyebrows, clearly not understanding what he was referring to.

"What do you mean? When?" She asked, her gentle fingers cupping his cheek, her thumb stroking his wet skin seeing that he was crying.

"That night. When I lost my eye. Where were you?" He mumbled, looking at her reproachfully, and she swallowed hard, her brow arched in pain, her dark eyes big with sadness and affection.

"I was very far away from you then, brother, living alone in Runestone." She whispered, and he froze, suddenly remembering who she was, feeling ashamed.

He turned his head away and swallowed hard, laying on his side with his back to her, hugging his face to the pillow, wishing he could sink into the ground, make her simply forget this pathetic, childish outburst of hysteria on his part.

He felt her lay down behind him, a pleasant shiver ran along his spine as her fingers began to run up and down his arm.

"How old were you then?" She asked quietly, nuzzling her face into his hair, her breasts, her legs and womb snuggled into his back as her hands embraced his waist.

His palm involuntarily lowered to hers, his fingers running over her pleasantly smooth, soft skin.

"Nine. Maybe ten. I can't remember anymore." He muttered, and she swallowed hard – one of her hands entwined her fingers with his, the other rose up, stroking his chest, circling around the area beneath which his heart lay.

"Gods, that must have been so painful." She whispered, and he hummed under his breath.

"Mmm. This was the price the gods set for me for Vhagar." He said, and she twisted in her place, rising slightly, looking up at him over his shoulder, her warm breath enveloping his cheek.

"What do you mean?" She asked, and he sighed.

He'd never discussed this with anyone.

Not like this.

"They teased me, you know. Luke. Jace. Aegon. Because I was different. Because I didn't have my dragon. They gave me a big pig with wings and mocked me. They tried to stop me that night too. But they failed." He whispered, feeling a squeeze in his throat, his heart pounding like mad while his thumb stroked her hand.

She was silent for a long moment, but he could hear her uneven breathing, as if she was shocked by what she had heard.

Don't take pity on me, he thought.

Don't give me advice.

Don't try to be my mother.

"Did your brother ever apologise to you for it?" She asked quietly, and he burst into a sudden, short, low uncontrollable laughter.

"Aegon? A king would apologise to his faithful hound? That's what he called me. The hound that barks when he fucks his whore." He sneered and licked his lower lip feeling her embrace him tighter, her nose pressed into the soft skin of his cheek, making him close his eyes, delighted by her closeness and tenderness.

"Does it reflect badly on me that I now regret that your brother did not die in the dragon fire?" She whispered in his ear and he opened his eyes and sighed, his lips parted slightly in a grin of satisfaction.

"No, zaldrītsos. Your soul is pure. Filled with concern for your elder brother." He murmured with contentment, raising their entwined hands to his lips, placing a warm, long kiss on her skin.

She was on his side.

His little sister.

He felt the need to put his feelings into words, but was unable to get them out. Instead, he turned towards her and looked at her – her gaze was warm, full of understanding and care he so desperately needed.

He twisted with a soft purr on the bed and slid his arm under her body, embracing her at the waist, his other hand lifting to her warm, silken cheek. He smiled with the corner of his mouth when he saw her close her eyes, her long lashes glistening in the moonlight as she snuggled her face into his palm.

"Just a few more days, sweet girl. A few more days and everything will be as it should be. I have ordered a larger bed to be placed in my chamber so that my wife will spend all the nights of her life in comfort." He said lightly – she giggled and leaned in, placing a tender, gentle kiss on the tip of his nose from which he felt a pleasant warmth in his chest.

"All of them? Be careful what you wish for, brother. Desires sometimes come true." She said with a glint in her eye from which he grabbed her and turned her with him, forcing her to lie on her back, his lips finding hers in a loud, sticky, greedy kiss of their fleshy lips.

They just kissed lazily for a while, the rustling of their bedding and the quiet clicks of their saliva spreading around them like a whisper, their hands trailing tentatively over their faces, hair, necks and shoulders in gestures that were filled more with tenderness than desire.

He lay down beside her and sighed heavily, embracing her tightly, and her body clung to his instantly, her face sunk into his chest.

"Sleep."

He knew that not everyone in the keep was pleased with his independent decision regarding his betrothal. His mother accepted it, expressing neither objection nor her blessing, while her brother, and his uncle, was more harsh in his judgement.

"You need allies and a fleet, nephew, not a mistress." He told him when they were left alone, approaching him after the finished military meeting he and Criston Cole had chaired.

He looked away and licked his lower lip, then chuckled under his breath as he looked down at his fingers.

"My mistress is Daemon Targaryen's daughter and brings a dragon as a dowry for our army, which means more to us than an unstable pact with the Greyjoys. Meleys has fallen, as has her rider. Daemon is in Harrenhal. Rhaenyra is alone, and Sheepstealer is bigger than Syrax." He said calmly, and his uncle sighed heavily.

"It has come to our attention that three of the bastards have managed to ride dragons great and mighty. Capable of facing Vhagar." Said Gwayne, and he looked at him surprised, feeling his lip clench in rage.

Three?

"Perhaps you should take more than one wife then, like Aegon the Conqueror. Apparently a young girl called Nettles is regarded by Daemon as his daughter, though some whisper that not even the Targaryens would put their cock in their child. And so, opinions are divided on their relationship. Apparently it was because of her that Rhaenyra sent him back to Harrenhal." Said his uncle.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head, burying his face in his hand.

The news that their advantage in the sky was melting again made him furious, but it was the vision of his betrothed if she found out that Daemon had taken a young girl into his care that filled him with dread.

Was she capable of enduring even more humiliation?

"Be careful with your words, uncle. I warn you not to try my patience and forbearance again. You may leave."

Indeed, Gwayne no longer broached the subject of their upcoming nuptials in his presence, however, to his fury, he dared to approach his sister in public.

He stopped, seeing their silhouettes facing each other in the courtyard, his uncle's body taking a step too far towards her. He moved in their direction – his hāedar caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, her calm smile meant to assure him that she was in control of the situation.

He, however, was furious.

"Hāedar. Skorion massitas (what happened)?" He asked coldly, looking at her expectantly and she threw him a soft, amused look.

He knew she could easily see how tense he was, and her attitude was meant to make him cool down and not explode.

"Aōha kēpus jaelagon naejot gīmigon lo nyke gryves aōha riña iemnȳ nyke (your uncle wants to know if I am carrying your child). Nyke udlitan zirȳla bona gaoman gīmigon daor (I answered him that I do not know)." She said without hesitation, and he closed his eyes and turned his head away, feeling his jaw clench in rage.

Who was he to ask her such brazen, intimate questions, reprimanding her in front of others, demanding answers from her as if she were his subject?

"Henujagon īlva, hāedar (leave us, little sister). Jikagon naejot ñuha tistālion (go to my chamber)." He said matter-of-factly, and she nodded and left them alone without a word.

When he looked at his uncle, Gwayne sighed and raised his eyebrows, as if to tell him that he was to blame himself.

"You're straining my patience." He said through clenched teeth.

His uncle rolled his eyes.

"The whole court knows about what you are doing. What was inappropriate about my question? It is merely my pure curiosity as to when the heir to the throne will come into the world." He said lightly, and he grinned in a way that made Gwayne freeze.

"You'd better concentrate on watching over your sister, and my mother. I don't want any more siblings, if you are aware of what I have in mind, much less from an illegitimate bed. I, as her son, will not rebuke her that the Dowager Queen cannot afford to fuck her own sworn protector. Mmm, I leave this matter to you." He hummed and turned away, leaving his uncle with a look of disbelief on his face.

As he walked into his chamber he felt the frustration of seeing that, despite his command, his betrothed was not there – he sighed, pouring himself a bit of wine into his goblet, thinking that perhaps she wanted to take a bath first, as was her custom.

He had no objection to her coming to him still wet and hot, smelling of floral oils, tasting of pure sweetness under his tongue.

However, after the hour he had spent on the book dedicated to the Riverlands and Harrenhal he had lost patience, knowing it had taken too long.

She had never defied his orders before, nor did she seem to be upset with him, so he began to worry that perhaps something had happened to her.

That was why he finally went out into the corridor and walked a few steps to her quarters, opening the door wide – he stopped, looking at her in disbelief when he saw that she was lying on her bed, staring blankly ahead, dressed exactly as before, a small piece of parchment lying next to her body.

A letter.

Who had delivered it to her without his knowledge?

"Hāedar." He said, hearing the guards close the door behind him with a loud clatter of wood.

She did not move or look at him, as if she had not noticed his presence.

He approached her slowly and reached for the rolled parchment, seeing only a few words on it.

Congratulations on your betrothal Kepa

Kepa.

Daemon.

He felt a wave of heat and cold pierce his body at the same time, the sweat on his back and the constriction in his heart testified to the panic rising within him, which immediately turned into rage.

"Where did you find this? Who brought it to you?" He growled, walking over to her, turning her onto her back and pressing her to the bed with his palms.

"Fucking speak. Shall I kill all your servants?" He hissed coldly, and she swallowed hard, looking up at him at last.

"Lysa told me that one of the guards instructed her to give it to me. According to him, it was supposed to be a letter from you, an expression of your affection." She whispered, and he pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling that he was not breathing, but panting with rage.

"Lie." He hissed, and she shook her head.

"No. I know Lysa. She described his appearance to me accurately, and I know he is the man who keeps watch over your chambers. He has heard everything, Aemond. He has passed on to him what you teach me, what we say. That word, kepa, is his mockery of me. He knows that it was not he who taught it to me, but that I know it and I understand what it means." She muttered, tears of pain, sadness and grief one after the other running down the sides of her face, her full lips parted in a ragged, drawn-out breath.

She was broken.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, burying his face in her hand, trying to calm himself.

That there were spies in the Red Keep was obvious, he thought, however, that after what had happened to Jaehaerys the fucking Lord Strong had, as assured, made sure they were all caught.

It appeared that rats were still prowling around them.

"Come here. Come. We'll go to my chamber. You will look at the guards and tell me if any of them fit the description. Don't tell anyone about the letter." He said, grabbing her in his arms and lifted her up, holding her under her buttocks. She threw her arms around his neck and nodded, and he took the parchment in his hand and headed off with her to his quarters.

His guards gave them uncertain glances as they opened the door to his room for him, but they did not say a word. When he laid her down in bed and looked at her he saw that she shook her head.

"It's none of them."

So we can sleep soundly, he thought and sighed heavily, undoing the buckles of his tunic.

For now.

He grabbed the dagger lying on the table and slipped it under one of the pillows, just in case.

"Undress." He commanded.

Let them hear it, he thought.

Daemon and all of Dragonstone.

Let them hear about what he is doing to his daughter.

She looked up at him and nodded, following his lead. When he finally pulled off his breeches and removed his shirt over his head, he saw the blush on her face, as if the sight of his bare body and the fact that he desired her surprised her.

For him it had become natural – his manhood reacted to her proximity and the sight of her without the participation of his will, pulsing greedily in the desire to unite with her.

She raised herself on her elbows as he knelt on the bed before her, his hands loosening the ribbon at the end of her long, complicated braid.

"Untie it." He said, and she smiled sweetly, sitting down in front of him – his hands slipped her nightgown off her shoulders as her hands reached back, curl by curl untangling her hair, letting it fall freely down her back.

Looking at her, at her slightly parted, swollen, glistening lips, at the hot, soft gaze of her dark eyes, at her long lashes, at her smooth face, at her bared body, her shapely breasts and puffy nipples, he thought she was graceful and sweet.

That she was beautiful.

He raised his hand slowly, admiring her like a nymph attending to her daily routine, his fingers stroking her silken, plump breasts in a lazy, soft motion.

"– I crave you – as you can see –" He gasped and rolled his hips so that his erect, hard manhood rubbed tentatively against the space between her thighs – they both sighed as they felt the material of her nightgown was damp, and when he lifted it up he saw the entirety of her pink, glistening womanhood, leaking from her wetness like a stream.

They were silent, tensions all around them, his gaze fixed on what was only his, letting his thumb run over her soft, fleshy folds.

"– ah –" She sighed as he began to lazily tease her small, sensitive bud, the source of her pleasure from where she was melting before his eyes.

"– will you resist me? – will you scream? –" He asked, rocking his hips back and forth, sinking the tip of the fat, smooth head of his cock into her tight slit again and again – her thighs spread wide apart in response, her hands on either side of her head, her gaze locked on the spot where their bodies met, watching what he was doing to her.

"– no, my King –" She whispered, and he looked at her, feeling a wonderful shiver run through him.

My King.

Her words were a betrayal, but a sweet one.

"– your words are punishable by death –" He gasped, feeling his breath grow heavier – they both sighed as he sunk deeper into her warm flesh, each time with the movement of his hips sliding out almost all the way, hitting the same sweet spot deep inside her again and again.

"– punish me then –" She muttered, panting hard, his eye grew large, the need to follow her desires unstoppable.

"– mmm – indeed, I don't want any harm to befall my sister for her words spoken in… ecstasy –" He exhaled, her head tilting back with a sob of pleasure as he forced his way deep into her slick, hot cunt with one, fierce push, each following thrust just a loud smacking of their hips against each other.

"– ah – g-gods, oh, fuck, fuck, yes, save me –" She whimpered, throwing her hands over his shoulders as he leaned lower, imposing an aggressive, sharp pace on her, pounding into her like there was no tomorrow with the loud clicks of her wetness, crushing her body to the bed, which began to creak loudly beneath them.

He looked down, watching in awe as he opened her little cunt wide on the thickest part of his swollen erection, feeling the way her warm, throbbing muscles enclosed it greedily, sucking it inside, begging for his seed.

"– confess your guilt – confess your sin to your betrothed –" He breathed out, grasping her buttocks in his hands, shifting positions so that he lifted himself up on his knees, groaning in pleasure along with her as he felt her from a different angle, savouring the wonderful, ravenous squeezes her walls were giving him.

She looked up at him with effort, quivering and writhing beneath him, her lips parted wide in heavy breaths, her fingers clenched on the pillow under her head while their bare skin slammed against each other with sticky splats.

"– I'm not being faithful to King Aegon, but to his brother – ah – I'm letting him use my body in spite of – i-in spite of the fact that he's not my husband –" She mumbled out with difficulty, just as he being on the verge of fulfilment, sweat running down their hot, naked bodies, his cock all soaked from her wetness, engorged as if it was about to explode inside her.

"– these are indeed grave sins – do not fret – your brother will guide you – fill you with his seed so that you will be pure again – shhh, I know – I know –" He exhaled as she cried out loudly.

She came on his manhood so hard that tears ran down her cheeks – her cunt began to clench around it in spasms of her pleasure, her eyes closed, her eyebrows arched as if he had caused her pain.

He tilted his head back and sighed when, after a few sloppy, sticky, messy thrusts, he reached his peak deep inside her with a loud grunt of satisfaction, feeling strong, invincible, desired, loved.

"– lēkia –" She mewled, panting hard, and he lay down on top of her, hugging her close, her fingers quickly clenching on his back – he could feel her hard nipples, pressed against his bare chest, his cock and her walls pulsing for a moment longer in shared delight and relief.

"– protect me – protect me from him –" She mumbled out.

He swallowed hard and leaned in, placing a warm, tender kiss on the top of her head, his broad hand stroking her hair.

"I will take care of everything. Do not fret. Sleep now and rest." He hummed and she nodded, snuggling into him tighter.

He let her fall asleep in his safe embrace, he, however, looked ahead and thought hard about what he should do with this letter and the informations he had.

Should he kill his guard, or should he interrogate him, torture him to squeeze out of him who he was working with?

Would he be able to get through him to Daemon, to his weaknesses and desires?

Rhaenyra had more dragon riders.

Their advantage was melting once more.

He needed to retake Harrenhal from their hands as quickly as possible, to force the Vale and the rest of the Riverlands to kneel.

He only fell asleep in the morning from exhaustion, snuggled into her warm, soft body, her scent affecting him in the same calming way as the embrace of her arms.

He was awakened by her touch – he hummed, feeling her lazily stroking his hair, his face in natural reflex snuggled between her soft, warm breasts.

Every gentle movement of her fingers, her calm breath, the beating of her heart beneath his cheek was a completion of wholeness for him, something he shared only with her, a closeness that was nothing but a pure need.

They both flinched and pulled away from each other when suddenly the door to his chamber opened wide – he looked there and opened his mouth, furious, wanting to ask who had dared to step inside without permission, his voice, however, stuck in his throat when he caught sight of his grandfather's silhouette walking towards his bed.

Otto stopped halfway and sighed loudly, as if he was disappointed but not surprised – his hāedar quickly covered her breasts with the material of her nightgown, looking at him questioningly, not understanding why he remained silent.

"I was hoping, my grandson, that I would find you alone." His grandsire said serenely, raising one eyebrow in an expression of passive disapproval.

He licked his lower lip, glancing at her uncertainly, her eyes big with terror.

"Henujagon īlva, hāedar (leave us, little sister). Kesan māzigon naejot ao tistālion tolī (I will come to you room later)." He said calmly.

She nodded, quickly grabbing her leather tunic and breeches lying on the floor, stepping around his grandfather without a word, disappearing after a moment behind the door.

He sighed heavily and leaned his back against the bed frame, covering his hips with the fur, looking ahead with a dispassionate expression on his face.

He had done this on purpose.

Nothing his grandfather did was without meaning.

"I heard you wish to become a husband." He teased, putting his hands behind his back, calmly stepping closer to his bed.

"Have you come to dissuade me from that idea?" He asked, turning his head away, for some reason unable to look at him.

He felt humiliated because he saw him in a helpless position, his face cuddled between her breasts, her embrace that he so craved.

He saw his weakness.

"No." He said, surprising him completely. "I came to ask how you can be sure she's faithful to you and the Crown."

He snorted under his breath, grabbing a small rolled piece of parchment that lay on the table next to his bed and threw it in his direction.

Otto halted, and the expression on his face changed – his eyebrows straightened as if he was intrigued, but he did not reach for the note.

"Go on. Read it. She didn't hide it from me." He said defiantly, but his grandfather just looked at him, his gaze gentle.

"I don't need to. I know what it says."

He stared at him in disbelief, feeling his heart stop in his throat, the unpleasant tightness in his stomach making him run out of air in his lungs for a moment.

"Daemon never wrote to her." He muttered.

His grandfather hummed.

"I wanted to see how she would behave. To be honest, I'm positively surprised. I was certain she'd be hiding it for a while, terrified of what you'd do to her and her servants when you found out." Otto said lightly.

He pressed his lips together, feeling that inside he was boiling all over with rage.

"You bribed my guard to spy on me for you?" He hissed through clenched teeth, feeling like a small, deceived child again.

His grandsire laughed at his words.

"I didn't bribe him. I ordered him to watch over my grandson and keep me informed of what was happening in the keep in my absence. Did you think that I simply abandoned you? That I no longer cared about you?" He asked with furrowed brows, stepping closer to his bed.

He swallowed hard, looking away from his eyes, too piercing and wise, feeling like he was ten years old again.

He was silent.

"What happened to your brother. Did you have anything to do with it?" Otto asked finally.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, grinning broadly.

Of course he thought he had something to do with it.

"No. But I don't delude myself that you will believe me. My brother thought he knew everything better and didn't listen to the advice of those wiser than himself." He said lightly.

Otto hummed under his breath.

"Are you planning to follow in his footsteps?" He asked matter-of-factly.

He swallowed heavily, feeling his jaw clench as hard as if it was going to burst.

"I'm going to marry her. It's already decided."

"That's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" He growled, looking at him angrily, impatient and embarrassed that he was having such a conversation with him while he was standing over him lying in his bed, bare.

"If you wish me to become your Hand, you must not make the mistakes of your brother. You must listen to the advice of people more mature and wiser than yourself." He said, and he felt the corner of his mouth twitch in a grimace.

"Listen to advices, yes – but do not think that I do not know you and your gift for manipulation." He said and turned his head away. "I know, however, how devoted you are to our family. Mmm, I wish you to be the one to reassure my betrothed – explain to her your intrigue and your reason for it. I expect you to take her father's place during our nuptials."

His grandfather was silent for a long time, looking at him thoughtfully.

"Yes." He said in a way from which he felt a cold sweat on his back. "I will gladly speak with her alone."

[idkyetxoxo]

Cregan Stark - Northern Oaths

Summary - The fearless princess, captivated by the raw beauty of the North, faces a harrowing ordeal when abducted. Lord Cregan Stark, mesmerised by her charm and charisma, is driven by deep concern to rescue her, braving the dangers of the wild to save her.

Pairing - Cregan Stark x Velaryon reader

Warnings - Violence (injury)

Word count - 2698

Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"I am more than capable of completing the journey on horseback, just like the others," I declared confidently, my fingers gently tracing the silky mane of the horse before me.

"Princess, I only mean to suggest that a carriage might offer a more comfortable option," Lord Stark replied, a hint of concern in his voice. I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head in amusement.

"Lord Stark, my title may be 'princess,' but that does not mean I shy away from riding such a magnificent creature," I said, smiling as I carefully wove a braid into the horse's white mane, mirroring the intricate braid that adorned my hair.

"Of course," he conceded with a respectful nod. "Though I can only hope this fine beast provides as satisfactory a ride as your dragon," he added, a twinkle of humour in his eyes.

I chuckled at his words. "We best not let Silverwing hear such talk—she's rather possessive," I teased, swinging myself gracefully into the saddle.

As we began our journey to the Wall, the cold Northern air filled my lungs, invigorating and fresh. The landscape around us was a vast canvas of snow-draped hills and ancient trees, their branches heavy with frost. 

The North was wild, untamed, and breathtakingly beautiful.

Cregan rode beside me, his horse moving with practised ease through the snow-covered terrain. I took in the landscape, the wild beauty stretching out before us. 

"There's something captivating about the North," I remarked, my voice thoughtful. "It's untamed, yet undeniably beautiful."

Cregan glanced over at me, a faint smile curving his lips. "The North's beauty isn't always apparent at first glance, but it reveals itself to those who take the time to understand it."

I nodded, feeling a quiet understanding in his words. "I can see why your people hold it so dearly. There's a raw honesty to the land, something that feels... unspoiled."

He regarded me with a look of quiet appreciation. "It's rare to meet someone who sees the North as more than just a harsh, cold place. You seem to understand its true nature."

I met his gaze, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Perhaps it takes a certain kind of person to appreciate it. Someone who doesn't mind looking a little deeper."

"Or someone who values strength and resilience," he added, his tone thoughtful. "The North may be unforgiving, but it has a way of revealing what truly matters."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Comfort is all well and good, but it's often overrated, don't you think? I've always believed that a challenge is where you find the most reward."

Cregan's eyes flickered with something unreadable, though his expression remained composed. "Then the North might be exactly where you belong, Princess."

His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made me pause. Our exchange was subtle, an unspoken understanding that lingered in the crisp air between us. 

We spoke of the land, but it was clear that our words carried another layer of meaning, one that neither of us needed to fully articulate.

As our conversation continued, one of Cregan's men, a younger rider with a mischievous glint in his eye, drew his horse closer to us. He had been listening quietly, but now a playful smile crossed his face. 

"Begging your pardon, Princess," he said, glancing between Cregan and me, "but it seems to me that you handle a horse as well as any Northern rider. Perhaps you'd care to prove it?"

Cregan's expression tightened ever so slightly, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "That's not necessary," he interjected smoothly. "The road ahead is treacherous, and a race could be dangerous in these conditions."

I scoffed lightly, meeting Cregan's gaze with a challenge of my own. 

"Lord Stark, do you truly believe I would back down from a bit of friendly competition?" I asked, my tone teasing but resolute. "I've faced worse than a little snow."

The young rider grinned, clearly pleased with my response. "A race it is then, Princess," he said, his enthusiasm infectious. "We'll start on your count."

Cregan sighed, his protective instinct warring with his knowledge that he couldn't stop me. "Very well," he said quietly, though the concern in his voice remained.

I turned my attention to the rider, feeling the thrill of the challenge stir within me. "On three, then," I said, my voice steady with anticipation. "One... two... three!"

In an instant, we were off. The cold air rushed past my face, and the snow crunched beneath the horses' hooves as we sped across the landscape. The thrill of the race consumed my focus. I urged my horse forward, feeling the powerful muscles move beneath me as we cut through the snow, the land itself almost falling away in the rush.

Beside me, the rider pushed his horse to match mine, his competitive spirit driving him forward. 

As we disappeared from their sight, the other men exchanged grins and murmurs of approval, but it was Cregan's gaze that lingered on me, a mixture of respect and something deeper.

I finally pulled my horse to a screeching halt when a group of men suddenly blocked our path. Their appearance was jarring, dressed in heavy, untamed furs that spoke of a life lived in the harshest of conditions. 

The young rider beside me did the same, his expression shifting from excitement to alarm as we realized we were no longer alone.

I cast a glance over my shoulder, noting with growing unease the considerable distance we had put between ourselves and the rest of our group. A cold dread began to seep into my bones, replacing the thrill of the race.

"Apologies," I said, trying to maintain my composure as one of the men stepped forward, his rough hand reaching for the reins of my horse.

"Princess," the rider beside me murmured, his voice low and tense. I frowned at the worry etched across his face.

"These men are wildlings," he explained, his voice barely above a whisper. The term meant little to me, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Aye, we are," one of the wildlings confirmed, a dark grin spreading across his face. "And if such royalty is riding these roads, then I believe we deserve an introduction." 

His hand shot out, gripping my arm with a roughness that made my breath hitch. I recoiled, shaking him off with a sharp twist of my wrist. 

"Lord Stark will have your heads," the young rider beside me interjected, his voice filled with defiance as he dismounted his horse and moved protectively to my side. "She is his guest."

"Shut up, boy," the wildling snarled, shoving him aside with a brutal force that sent him stumbling.

Before I could react, more wildlings emerged from the shadows, surrounding us with predatory intent. Panic surged through me as the man who had grabbed my arm yanked me off my horse, his grip like iron as I struggled against him. 

"Let me go!" I shouted, thrashing wildly as they dragged me away from my horse.

The rider attempted to intervene but he was quickly overpowered by the wildlings, who struck him down with ruthless efficiency. I fought with every ounce of strength I had, but the wildlings were relentless, their hands bruising as they forced me through the snow-covered forest.

"Lord Stark will find you! He will—" My words were cut off as one of the wildlings, a hulking brute with a cruel sneer, struck me hard across the head. 

The world spun violently, my vision blurring as pain exploded in my skull. I tried to stay conscious, to fight, but darkness closed in, my strength fading with every passing second.

The last thing I heard was the distant sound of my screams, echoing through the cold, unforgiving wilderness as I was pulled further away from safety, until finally, everything went black.

Back with the others, Cregan kept his pace steady, though his thoughts lingered on the race ahead. He couldn't help but feel a nagging unease. The thrill of the race was one thing, but the North was unforgiving, its dangers lurking just out of sight.

It wasn't long before the silence of the snowy landscape was shattered by a distant, panicked shout. Cregan's heart dropped as he urged his horse forward, the other men quickly following suit.

As they rounded a bend in the trail, the sight that met them was chilling. My horse lay sprawled on the ground, its beautiful silver-braided mane stained with blood. 

The elegant creature that had carried me so effortlessly mere moments ago now struggled weakly, a painful whine escaping its throat. Blood soaked the snow beneath it, turning the pristine white ground into a gruesome scene of red.

Cregan dismounted in one fluid motion, his eyes scanning the scene with mounting dread. Near the fallen horse, the young rider who had joined in the race lay slumped, his body bruised and bloodied. 

His breath came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle. His hand pressed weakly against a gash on his side, blood seeping between his fingers.

Cregan rushed to his side, dropping to one knee as the men formed a protective circle around them, their eyes scanning the forest for any further danger. 

"Where is she?" Cregan demanded, his voice sharp with fear and urgency. "What happened?"

The rider coughed, blood staining his lips as he struggled to speak. "I tried...tried my best," he gasped, his voice filled with pain and guilt. "Wildlings... they ambushed us. They took her."

Cregan's heart pounded in his chest as the rider's words sank in. 

"They took her?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper as if saying it out loud would make it more real, more terrible.

The rider nodded weakly, his eyes clouded with pain and regret. "I fought... but there were too many. They overpowered us... they knocked her out and dragged her into the woods. I'm sorry, my lord, I—"

"Don't," Cregan interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "You did what you could. We'll get her back."

He turned to his men, his expression hardening into one of grim determination. 

"Search the area," he ordered, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "We need to find their trail. They can't have gone far."

The men nodded, their faces set with resolve as they spread out. Cregan stayed beside the injured rider, his jaw clenched as he surveyed the bloodstained snow. The sight of my horse, now struggling to breathe, filled him with a cold, simmering rage. 

This was his fault, he should have insisted on staying close, should have anticipated the dangers. I was out there, in the hands of wildlings, and every moment that passed put me in greater danger.

I woke to the sharp sting of cold air against my face, my body aching from the rough treatment I'd endured. Disoriented, I tried to move, only to find my hands bound tightly behind my back and a coarse gag tied around my mouth. 

Panic flared as I struggled against the restraints, my breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps.

The dim light filtered through the rough walls of a small, makeshift shelter. The air inside was thick with the scent of damp earth and unwashed bodies. My head throbbed from where I'd been struck, the pain radiating down my neck with each movement.

A shadow loomed over me, and I froze, my eyes widening in fear. A man with tangled hair and a filthy beard was kneeling beside me, his rough fingers combing through my hair as if inspecting it. 

His touch was far from gentle, tugging at the braids with a crude fascination. I recoiled inwardly, a shudder of revulsion passing through me, but I was helpless to stop him.

"Pretty princess," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. "Never seen hair like this. Like silver... like moonlight."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the horror of the situation, but the terror gnawed at me, refusing to be ignored. My mind raced with thoughts of escape, but every idea crumbled against the reality of my bindings and the presence of the wildlings who had captured me. 

I could hear their voices outside, speaking in rough tones, the words indistinct but filled with a sinister edge.

Suddenly, the shelter was filled with the sounds of chaos, shouts, the clash of steel, and the unmistakable thud of bodies hitting the ground. My eyes snapped open as the wildling beside me stiffened, his hand falling away from my hair as he reached for his weapon.

The noise grew louder, closer, and I could hear the unmistakable sound of swords cutting through the air, of men fighting for their lives. My heart leapt with hope, even as fear clawed at me. 

Was it possible? Had Cregan and the others found me?

The wildling cursed under his breath, his attention now fully on the commotion outside. He scrambled to his feet, drawing a crude blade as he moved toward the entrance of the shelter. 

Before he could step outside, the flap was thrown open, and Cregan burst in, his sword dripping with blood, his eyes blazing with fury.

The wildling barely had time to react before Cregan's sword flashed in the dim light, striking him down with a swift, decisive blow. The man crumpled to the ground, lifeless, as Cregan turned his attention to me.

The fierce determination in his eyes softened the moment he saw me, bound and gagged on the cold ground. He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands trembling slightly as he quickly cut through the ropes that held me captive.

"Princess," he breathed, his voice thick with relief. "I'm here. You're safe now."

As the bindings fell away, I pulled the gag from my mouth, and a sob escaped my lips before I could stop it. The fear, the helplessness, the dark possibilities of what could have happened, it all overwhelmed me in that instant.

I looked up at him, seeing not just a lord, but the man who had risked everything to bring me back. Tears streamed down my face as I reached out for him, needing to feel something solid, something real.

Cregan gathered me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest as if he could shield me from the horrors I had endured. 

"It's alright," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "You're safe, I swear it."

I clung to him, the sobs coming harder now, the terror of the past few hours releasing itself in waves. His presence was the only thing grounding me, keeping me from falling apart completely.

Cregan held me through it all, his hand gently stroking my hair as he murmured soft reassurances. The sounds of battle outside faded, replaced by the distant, muffled voices of his men securing the area. 

In that moment, all I could focus on was the steady rhythm of Cregan's heartbeat beneath my cheek, a reminder that I was no longer alone, no longer at the mercy of those who had taken me.

Finally, as the tears began to subside, I pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes. 

"I was so scared," I finally managed to whisper, my voice trembling and weak. "I—I thought..." My voice broke, and the words wouldn't come.

Cregan's thumb brushed away a tear from my cheek, his expression filled with a sorrow so deep it made my heart ache.

"I know," he said softly, his voice filled with a deep, unspoken regret. "And I apologise I wasn't there sooner."

I shook my head, my grip on his arms tightening. "You found me. That's all that matters."

He nodded, his gaze intense as he searched my face, as if reassuring himself that I was truly there, unharmed. 

"I won't let anything happen to you," he vowed, the weight of his words settling between us like a promise etched in stone. 

In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of the battle, the cold, and the lingering fear, I felt something else, an undeniable bond forged in the crucible of danger. 

I clung to the knowledge that Cregan had saved me but more than that, I held onto the realization that in his arms, the cold wilderness of the North didn't feel so wild anymore, it felt like home, like safety.

 After all, there has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath.

A/n - There was sm more I wanted to add and once it hit over 2.5k words I realised I had to reel it in lmaoo

[luvsupa]

tags: gojo x fem!reader, ex relationship, fluff, angst, takes place after battle w sukuna (he wins), sad ending, mentions of blood, gojo’s lowkey depressed w.c: 1k

a/n: sorry this just came out of nowhere </3

“satoru?” you call out, squinting through the bustling sidewalks of downtown tokyo, trying to confirm if it’s really him. he turns at the sound of your voice, removing one of his earbuds, his heart flipping as he sees you—this isn’t a dream. you’re really here.

it’s been a little over a year since you two broke up. despite the deep love you shared, the relationship was suffocating. you couldn’t stand watching him come home exhausted and scarred, sometimes with blood on his clothes from the dangerous missions. it hurt too much to see him treated like a weapon instead of the person he is. you begged him to leave jujutsu tech, pleading with him day and night to escape the pain that you couldn’t bear to witness.

but the final straw was that night—when he came home, slashes across his body, his clothes torn and bloodied. watching him limp from your shared apartment to the bathroom made your heart shatter. “i’m okay,” he reassured you, but you knew he was on the verge of passing out, desperately hiding his pain from you. he couldn’t let you, his sweet sweet baby, see him in this state.

“‘toru, it’s either you leave that company or i’m leaving,” you cried, your heart clenching at the thought. his identity was tied to saving non-cursed users, but without that, who was he? he stared at you in silence, and you already knew his answer. you packed your things, his tear-filled eyes followed you from the bathroom, silently apologizing for the pain he couldn’t escape.

seeing him now, you can’t help but smile, even as the memories flood back. he looks healthier, but the scars on his face are constant reminders of his battles. “i—how are you?” he stutters, still in shock.

“g-good. how’ve you been?” you reply, your heart sinking at how tired he looks.

“pretty good too,” he says, scratching the back of his head, revealing the scars on his hands. “wanna grab some coffee? there’s a shop down the street.” your eyes widen, and you nod, a mix of excitement and dread swirling inside you.

as you walk side by side, the energy between you feels familiar yet fragile. you chat about the beauty of the night, pointing out flashy sports cars.

inside the café, you sit across from each other, getting a good view of the outside. he returns with two coffees, and you thank him for paying, though you’d always insist on paying- he declined, he never let you pay for anything when you were together.

“have you left yet?” you ask, your voice trembling as you prepare for the inevitable conversation.

“heh, does it look like I’ve left?” he jokes, gesturing to his tired eyes. you wrap your hands around your cup, feeling the warmth seep into your cold fingers. silence falls between you, heavy with unspoken words.

“i miss yo—”

“i have a girlfriend.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut. a girlfriend? your heart drops as your expression falters. why does it hurt so much?

“y-yeah, i’m seeing someone too,” you blurt out, hating yourself for the lie. the laughter that follows feels hollow, and he can see right through you.

“baby, you’re such a bad liar—” he catches himself, the pet name easily slipping past his lips. both of you stare at each other widened eyes as he mistakenly slipped up by calling you baby. he really didn’t mean to! suddenly, the air is thick with tension. you both giggle awkwardly, but inside, it tears at you—how much you miss hearing him call you that.

“if i were your girlfriend, i’d kill you for catching up with your ex and calling her baby,” you joke, but his expression remains serious. not a smile nor a chuckle, making your heart race. have you upset him?

“i mean, you were my girl,” he says, and your mind spins. my girl. you can’t help but pout, taking a sip of your coffee, your gaze drifting outside to the busy streets.

just then, his phone buzzes loudly, drawing your attention. you catch a glimpse of “A♡” on the screen. gojo’s expression shifts as he reads the message, a sadness settling over him. he has to cut your time short. you silently whine as the two of you rise from your chairs, cleaning up any mess as you both head out to leave in opposite directions.

but he stops you. his warm hands enveloping yours. “w-when can i see you again?” he stutters, his voice laced with desperation. your heart races, wanting to cry, to leap into his arms and confess your love, but that’s not an option.

“i’ll see you around, ‘toru,” you say, forcing a warm smile. rising on your tiptoes, you place a soft kiss on his cheek as he blushed hard. he tenses, the longing evident in his eyes as he fights the urge to pull you close, hugging you and kissing you as if you were his again.

“and treat your girlfriend nice,” you add, turning to walk away. each step feels heavier as a lump forms in your throat, fighting back the tears threatening to spill.

“will do,” he calls after you, trying to sound upbeat. but as he walks away, his eyes glisten, filled with unfallen tears. oh, how he misses you.

[sehaedazokla]

stark men and a tyrell reader

fem! reader terms and descriptions 

check this out for more cregan x tyrell!reader content: he that dares

a/n: this was supposed to be a brief, onetime thing but there’s just something about cregan and a tyrell reader that’s sitting with me…

robb is absolutely heart-eyed from the moment you step out of your carriage. you have the most beautiful light green and gold dress, pink roses embroidered onto the bodice above your gentle curves. you smell of roses and vanilla and honey and have the sweetest eyes and manners so robb is perhaps justifiably a little love struck at first.

but robb is observant and he sees things. you have made the entire castle love you which means the maids have the freshest linens brought to your room first and the chef bakes you all sorts of sweets. the other young lords of the north shower you with gifts and line up to dance with you at balls as you gaze down demurely and flutter your fan. you have acquired quite a large number of expensive gifts in such little time at winterfell.

and when robb is looking over battle plans and drafting mock strategy you elegantly peak over his shoulder and make a quiet suggestion that is absolutely ruthless and when robb plays out the scenario you have crushed the hypothetical opponent. he’s whipping around to ask you how you thought of that, but you have already wandered out the doors, light colored fabric swishing behind you. 

and the more he watches, the more he sees of you. a little eye roll when one of the other lords drops his hand too low during a dance, the way your long fingernails tap sharply yet quietly on the table when you hear someone say something stupid. a shake of your head and raise of your eyebrows when you turn away after having to be too sweet and too liked to get whatever it is you were after at that moment. and what he loves most of all is that look of absolutely judgmental irritation when you thought you’d been alone in the library and overheard some boys saying dirty things about one of the maids. 

and from that point on, robb is stubbornly determined - with that hardheaded resolve that men of the north all seem to have - to get to know the real you. but you have the sweet-as-a-flower act down to perfection and are not quick to break. you catch onto his little game, but against your better judgment you decide to play along. it’s endearing, almost. 

but one night at a feast you’ve been hounded all night by the incessant pining of a lord from a smaller house, who won’t let you get even a moment to breathe. and after an hour of sheer torture via the man’s slimy attempts to lure you into the hall, robb sweeps in to save you. his hand in yours as he guides you gently to the side of the room for a break. robb doesn’t say much, but with a gentleman’s smile pointedly makes a polite comment on the other man’s poor manners. and you are so annoyed and irritated you roll your eyes and utter the most scathing insult that you’ve been bottling up for the last hour.

the way his blue eyes light up would take your breath away, your lips parting slightly as he smiles at you like he’s been given a mountain of gold

“aye, there you are.”

he would say, an almost childishly proud grin on his face. 

—

cregan spots you above him on a balcony when he comes to king’s landing. it’s quiet, during the time when his army was keeping the court there. your elegantly arranged hair and delicately embroidered gown catch the stray sunlight from a window, bathing you in flecks of gold. 

the lord from the north stands below you as you gaze down with an unreadable expression - you had wanted to catch a glimpse of him to see what sort of man currently held power at the capital. what had intended to be a small scouting mission becomes a long gaze as you find yourself drawn in and cregan seems equally as enthralled. you tilt you chin down delicately, giving him a small curtsy before you slip off into the shadows of the balcony.

and it is an interesting game at play from then forth. cregan has many tasks to attend to at king’s landing, yet his eyes are constantly drawn to whatever area of the court you stand in when you are present with the other lords and ladies. you are quick to take advantage of this - introducing yourself, eyes gently on the ground as you curtsy in front of him. 

it’s a slow and sensual meeting - cregan takes his time with something for the first time since he left winterfell. his eyes fall to your lips, your collarbone, the curve of your chest that’s shamelessly lifted by your corset. and despite your intention to win him over for political reasons, you can’t help but pause a moment at the way your name is said, low and deep in his northern accent. and then he holds your gaze, even and steady, like he never wants to look anywhere else. the want is mutual and strong and both of you know it. 

cregan’s taking you in, eyes firmly trained on yours as he takes your hand in his own. but instead of kissing it as you expected, he simply lifts it slightly, thumb brushing over the pressure point on your wrist. 

“-no, i haven’t had the pleasure my lady.”

he murmurs, before you can finish your sentence. 

however, the thing with cregan is that you get what you see. he has that strong, unyielding sense of stark justice and it is everything to him, which he shows at court everyday. and you have been taught and raised to be more deceptive than that. to play your enemies with a bat of your eyelashes and a sweet smile upon your lips. your family expects you to win him over for their safety and security, and you love them more than anything.

but love lust is the death of duty, is it not? both of you have ‘good’ albeit different intentions - cregan is devoted to justice and you to your family. you two have a few things to teach each other about differing perspectives and upbringings.

[rayhalloffame]

!NSFW! Minors DNI***

Older boyfriend art picking you up from the bar when you’re drunk mhm mhm

He’s watching you stumble toward the parking lot, head tucked into your phone in what looks like following directions to where his phone is pinging his location. Normally he’d scold you for not being aware of your surroundings, but he’s got his eye on you and is amused, so he’ll let it slide.

He’s leaning against the hood of his truck, arms crossed over his chest and mouth tilted in a grin. When you can see the proximity on your screen you look up, about to scan your surroundings but he’s right in front of you. Your face breaks out into a large smile and art is helpless but to reciprocate.

You shuffle the rest of the distance, falling against him when his arms unfold and come around you. “Hi, baby,” you greet, looking up at him through your heavy lids. You pucker your lips up at him, humming against his mouth when he leans down to meet you.

He moves a hand to push your hair back from your face. “Hi, angel. Did you have fun?” He chuckles when you ignore him, leaning up on your tippy toes insisting he give you more kisses. He indulges you, as he always does, until you’re pushing your hips against him. He halts your movements with a squeeze to your waist. “Behave,” he chides, inches from your face. It makes you want to challenge him but he’s already steering you towards the passenger door.

He buckles your seat belt when you’re in the car, kissing the side of your neck when he leans. His hand is on your thigh the minute he has himself buckled into the driver’s seat and shifts into gear. The warmness of his palm on your bare thigh makes you squeeze your legs together.

You gaze over at him while he drives, the perfect angles of his face, the tightness of the gray sweatshirt over his chest, the veins protruding from his hand gripping the wheel. You become overwhelmed. “You’re so beautiful,” you say dreamily. You reach out to trace across his jaw with your fingers.

It makes the corner of his mouth twitch. He moves his hand from your thigh to grasp yours, pulls your intwined fingers to his lips and presses a soft kiss. “Thank you, baby,” he says, words drawn out and saccharine sweet. The rest of the ride home you’re squirming in your seat, the effects of the alcohol making it almost impossible to keep your hands to yourself. Your hand is so close to his mouth, you have to stop yourself from sticking your fingers inside to rest against his tongue.

You do, however, follow those impulses the minute you’re through the front door. Art is surprised to have the pads of two of your fingers exploring the inside of his mouth, but he allows it, licks and sucks.

You draw in a drunken breath, whisper almost so quiet that he strains to hear. “Need your tongue.” He pulls your wrist so your fingers pop out of his mouth and he seeks for your lips. He has a hand on your ass pressing you against him. You’re kissing him so sloppily he has to chase your tongue that seems to run outside the boundaries of his lips. A hand at the back of your skull keeps you where he wants you.

He guides you back until the backs of your knees brush the couch, falling into a sit. Art gets on his knees in front of you, pulls your heels off and kisses each ankle. He kisses a path up your calves, knees, inner thighs. He licks the flat of his hot tongue up your sopping center, right over your thong.

“Naughty,” he says, pressing a thumb to your clothed clit and you whine. “Your skirt is so short I bet everyone in that bar was trying to get a look at you under here.” He pulls your panties to the side, strokes his thumb between your folds. You whimper about wanting him, needing him, and he dives in.

His large hands are holding your thighs apart while he eats you. His tongue circles your clit, fucks into your opening right where you need him. He adds a finger and then two, pumping into your cunt rapidly. You’re keening, rambling, making no sense. He flicks his tongue rapidly against you, looking up at the way your eyes scrunch with the focus of reaching your release.

It takes him a second to hear you begging to kiss him. You’re so loud now, you could be blubbering. He keeps pace with his fingers but he does come to a tall kneel in front of you. Your mascara has started to run. “C’mere, pretty girl,” he beckons. You push yourself toward him, hunching forward so you can lick into his mouth in desperation.

You hold your foreheads together when focusing on the coordination of your tongue becomes too tedious. You have a grip on the back of his neck. You’re grunting into his face with the rhythm of his fingers. He’s pumping one, two, three more times before you let go. Art talks your through it, all “yeah, give it to me” and “gone all dumb on my fingers”. He kisses your slack mouth, then pulls himself from your grasp to dip down and taste you. He smirks in satisfaction when you hiss at the overstimulation.

Then he’s standing, sitting next to you and unbuckling his pants. He’s going to have you ride him until your legs grow exhausted, already weak from dancing and cumming on his fingers. And then he’s going to make you cum again.

[bunnys-kisses]

the big, bad wolf(f)

toto wolff

cw: smut/pwp, hybrid au, wolf!toto, rabbit!reader, needy!toto, size difference/kink, missionary style, age difference (20s/50s)

a/n: this is part of a f1 hybrid au, i haven't stopped making bakery prompts, this is just something a tiny bit different! if have any ideas to share lemme know!

"my, my, what big teeth you have, mister wolff." you came close to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders before you sat down in his lap.

toto's wolf-like ears twitched at your words before he leaned in close to you. he cupped your face softly and gazed into your eyes with his dark ones, "teeth, my love." he held you a little closer to him and kissed at your arm, "i guess all the more to bite you with."

he watched your ears twitch a little. cute bunny behavior. he reached for one of your long ears and touched it gently. he watched you squirm a little and he chuckled. he knew you liked that.

toto could be a little scary. he stood much taller than you, and could easily pick you up. with pointed dark ears and a tail that you often rubbed up against when he didn't (or couldn't) give you attention.

you pressed your thumbs against his lips and giggled, "but you wouldn't eat someone like me. you love me too much." then kissed him on the lips.

an alarmingly younger bunny girlfriend and the rich older wold who loved her. it was a match made in heavy. he knew that it turned a few heads, especially when you were dressed in something cute.

he had to restructure your wardrobe so you weren't in softer colours every day, and everyone in the neighbourhood started to make assumptions. you were a university graduate, even though your degree was more wall decoration than actually used.

"i don't know, hase." he cupped your behind and pulled you closer to you. he buried his nose against you and took a small inhale, which was still enough to make the ticklish bunny in his lap jolt. he said as he held onto you tighter, "be still."

you felt a warmth in your body as you looked at him. eventually his face were between your breasts. the prettiest breasts toto had ever seen. he groaned.

you knew your older boyfriend was craving rabbit. you held his head and pressed your breasts up against him. he groaned and held onto you harder.

"does the big bad wolf want a taste of bunny?" you said lowly and hear him deeply exhale. you were going to be the death of him. you tilted his head to look at you and you giggled at the sight of him, "c'mon, honey, let's get you into bed." then got up off his lap, but you didn't get too far. as your wolf lover was close behind you.

your bunny ears twitched a little bit, and toto wanted to yank on them while you rode him. he hated that he felt a slave to instinct. but it was hard not to when his lover was just soft in all the ways he was tough. he was surprised a little bunny like you could take someone like him.

he knew he was so much bigger and had a domineering power over most. but you with those cute little ears, beautiful eyes, and cheerful demeanor, toto was a a panting dog.

when you got close enough to the bed and tried to get your slippers off, toto pushed you onto the bed ass up and you made a small panicked noise as you hit the bed then felt the weight of your lover on top of you.

you yelped and kicked your legs out a little bit and toto had his hands under you and was groping at your choice heavily. he wanted to feel his lovely rabbit.

"don't tear my clothes, you animal!" you kicked out a little more and felt your lover get off of your back and slowly take off your clothes. while the clothes weren't particularity expensive, it was a good pair of t-shirt and sleeping shorts (both stolen from your lover). it was hard to find comfort in most clothes these days!

before he took your sports bra on, he got you onto your back and groped at your chest. he shuddered a little bit at the sight of you, almost naked for him.

"such a pretty rabbit." he noticed the twitch in your ears and he rubbed his clothed cock up against your barely clothed front, "beautiful." he said, "i could put you between my teeth and just bite down. but i'd rather make you cum." something wild ran through toto when he was with you.

soon you were naked and you began to help toto out of his clothes. his large hands on you as you unbuttoned his dark blue shirt. your hands were a little shakey as you undid every last button.

toto eyed you carefully before he was able to take the shirt off his shoulders. you whined a little bit as the sight of you, but he took you by the chin and pulled you in for a heated kiss.

"so lovely." he said, his lips so close to yours. he watched you squirm a little bit as you panted heavily against his lips. he felt like a dream, you felt heat do its rounds in your core.

both striped as naked as you could get. toto kept you on your back with your legs spread for him. he licked his lips, his gaze felt hot. almost like a predator. he leaned into your touch when you ran your hand through his dark hair.

"you should let it go grey." you remarked.

he chuckled as he invaded your space more, his eyes level with yours with his chest pressed against you, "no, no, hase. me all grey and you in those soft sweaters. people will get alarmed."

you giggled, "as if you're not like a foot taller than me. the little bunny and the big bad wolf!" then held onto his shoulders as he got his hands on your hips.

his larger cock pressed up against you. you shuddered a little bit at the feeling of it against you. you gasped when he inched it inside of you. his dark eyes on you as you squirmed a little bit.

"are you okay, hase? not too much pain?" he might be a wolf, and you might be a bunny, but he didn't want to harm you. you were his perfect rabbit. he clutched onto your hips as he moved himself against you.

he slowly got as deep as he could go and he watched your expression grow softer. a little blissed out as he got his entire length into you. you squirmed a little and felt the heat in your body grow.

you were beautiful under him. like the sweetest fruit on the tree, or the most tender rabbit in the field. of course, toto had to sink his teeth into your shoulder as you moved against him. he watched your toes curl and your legs kick out from the hot feeling of it all.

"my rabbit." he said, his voice tinged with a desperate want, "i need you. i need you every day of my life. you excite me in so many ways. you look beautiful under me."

you glowed a little under his attention and felt your stomach do small flips as he moved against you. your cute little cunt took him perfectly. everything about you was always so much smaller than the big scary predator you called a lover. the hungry wolf that was desperate for pretty bunny cunt. but, toto would always take care of you! he wasn't a crazy person.

he knew that he had to take care of his little rabbit, even if that meant thrusting up into her wildly. that made keeping your pussy nice was wet with his cum. he rutted against you and snapped his jaws a little from the pleasure of it all.

"my beautiful rabbit." he purred as he continued to move up against you. you fit him perfectly, he remembered when it was a bit of a struggle. but it wasn't your fault, you were just made so small for him. but nothing a little training wouldn't have fixed. you whimpered and whined as he fucked you.

"please, toto." you whined as you arched your back a little. pressed yourself further against him as he got a good look at every curve on your sweet body.

he once told a friend of his that bunnies fucked the best. the cutest little hybrids, pussies can take a beating and toto loved yours most of all. got him addicted to sweet cunt and cute smiles. he knew if you were on top, you'd be bouncing on him with that same blissed out look.

toto knew he was far gone with you. he knew that he wanted to make you his little bunny bride. then he'd make sure that nothing else could have you the way he did. except maybe a toy for when he wasn't home, something to occupy that cunt of yours. but, nothing else. no one else.

he was a wolf possessive of his little pack.

he continued to brush up against the softest parts of you, your pussy like a grip around his achy cock. he could feel his heartbeat in his throat the more he fucked you. he was egged on by your sweet sounds and your soft breasts up against him.

he gripped onto your hips tighter and heard you let out a sweet, almost sugary moan as he moved up against you. his cock hit all the right places for you. he knew he was going to leave you pretty insides all bruised, but you loved it.

you love when sex with him hurt a little, a reminder for days of how well he took care of you. he pressed into you further, his lips found yours as the two of you feverishly made out.

the bed squeaked under you, and it paired like a symphony with your beautiful muffled moans. when he broke the kiss you panted heavily.

"you pant like a dog." he said in a hot tone that left a shiver through you. he knew you were getting close. he could tell by how tense you were and the expression across your face.

his pace continued and soon you were holding onto him tightly. your arms hung around his neck as you grasped the back of his neck. you held onto him tighter via your legs as he thrusted as hard as he could. the bed moved under you and you felt a sense of euphoria when you climaxed.

"ah! toto!!" you whimpered as you came, leaving his cock fully slick with your wetness down to his balls. you clung to him like a lifeline while he battered the back of your sweet pussy. with a few more heavy thrusts, he finished inside you as well.

he marked your pretty insides with his cum and heard you whimper loudly into his ear. he eventually slowed to a stop before he was able to catch his breath. pleasure ran through his body like a lifeline. he tried to stop but your pussy called him back.

he was only able to stop himself when he saw how tired you look. bunnies fucked well, but they got easily tired out. all that energy in such a small package.

"do you mind if i take you again?" he asked softly as he took you in his arms. he watched you nod and say yes softly before he put you on your stomach and held your hips up.

he still needed his rabbit. he needed to feel your gooey insides and get himself off. you were so perfect for him, letting him use you while you get comfortable on your shared bed. he slipped his cock into you once more and knew that he would never get enough of his sweet bunny's cunt. <3

[lyneira]

Hi! May I please request headcanons for how the Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami would react to his gn crush kissing him because they're so in love with him? Thank you!

Headcanons of Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami's reactions after their s/o kisses them passionately out of nowhere

Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami (separately) x reader

fluff with some spice!

a/n: I changed the prompt a bit in which the reader is already in an established relationship with the characters rather than being their crush. I misread your ask the first time I read it and only understood what you meant when I had finally finished writing. So sorry anon, I hope this is okay anyway! 😭

TOJI

He'd chuckle, "Well, aren't you such a sweetheart?", before grabbing your chin and kissing you back, full-force.

He'd find it so endearing that you loved him greatly. Surely, he'd show you how much he felt for you as well.

You'll see it in the way his eyes glint dangerously at you, like a predator ready to capture his prey, as he kisses you relentlessly.

You'll hear it in the way he lowly hums with delight into your lips with each kiss.

You'll taste it in the way he pushes his tongue into your mouth, exploring every part of it before dancing with yours.

You'll feel it in the way his other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer to firmly press his body up against yours. You'll feel something in particular begin to press up against you too.

Through all this, Toji would hope that you at least understand one important thing - You can't kiss him without expecting it to get steamy ;)

CHOSO

He's as over the moon for you as you are for him. He'll kiss you back with the same intensity, if not more.

Choso will never hold back in terms of expressing his love for you. So when you openly and freely express your love for him, it brings his heart so much joy that he could cry. (and no doubt he would)

He'd cup your cheeks and smother your face with kisses, each kiss holding tons of affection. (His adoration for you would grow tenfold if you would do the same)

In general, with Choso, once you show him even an ounce of affection, he'll never hesitate to give it back. If you two continue to reciprocate each other's affections, then it'll be a long night of giving each other love and much more~

GOJO

I could imagine he'd grin, "Oh, you're too cute, Y/N. C'mere", and pounce on you with a big kiss.

Sure, he might be used to being fawned over and being the object of others' affection, but he doesn't take any affection from you for granted. You're special to him, after all. He'll love any gesture of affection from you the most and will always show his appreciation for it in fun-loving ways.

So I think he'd be the type to continue kissing you playfully: leaving light kisses on your lips, down your neck, around your collarbone, and maybe even further down, all while keeping his hands on your hips to ensure you're grounded underneath him. His firm grip on your hips was his way of telling you that he isn't letting you go any time soon.

Anyway, you'll end up finding quite a lot of love-bites all over your body, also in the most intimate places, once he's done with you.

NANAMI

He'd probably get caught off guard from the sudden gesture of affection.

Yet, in that moment, he'd feel at peace. Looking at your smiling face full of happiness and seeing your beautiful eyes shine with love and adoration staring back into his own couldn't bring him more joy.

Knowing that there's someone who loves him this much warms his heart and soothes his mind. Especially after a long day from work, he's incredibly grateful that you're the one he can come home to.

He'll wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in closely while keeping his gaze upon you, his eyes so gentle as he admires your visage.

"I love you", he'll whisper with a soft smile before going in for a kiss.

As he kisses you back, you'll feel the passion he has for you in his lips, claiming them over and over again as he embraces you tighter.

Your hearts would be so close to one another's, and each heartbeat would be his vow to protect you, the most precious thing on earth to him, with all his might.

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[acoazlove]

After Starfall

Azriel x reader

Summary: After starfall with your family is perfect.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: fluff

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Loud giggles filled the room, mixing with the quiet music.

Drink in hand while dancing with Mor. The aftermath of watching Starfall was far better than the show itself. Being with your family, the people who have been through so much to get to this point of happiness, made it far more breathtaking and heartwarming.

Mor somehow always managed to get you to your feet during this time, despite always starting the night telling her, ’Not this year.’ But she still manages to get you up anyway—probably because of the alcohol.

So here you are, you and Mor, drinks sloshing precariously close to the edge of your glasses, laughing, spinning, and tripping over each other. Dresses swaying with every step, smiles never leaving your faces.

Amidst it all, you felt a pair of eyes following your every move. The eyes that belonged to the love of your life. His attentive nature, always making sure you’re safe and okay, and maybe also admiring his beautiful mate.

Azriel hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. When you had put on your dress—the same color as his siphons—he contemplated skipping the festivities to rip it off you and devour you then and there. But you were far too excited to notice the change in your mate's scent, so he decided he could wait till after.

Much to his brothers’ annoyance, he couldn’t keep a conversation going for more than a few seconds. Your laughter bouncing off the walls always managing to pull his gaze back to you.

A loud, overly dramatic huff was heard from beside him, drawing Azriel’s focus over to his left, where Cassian had a furrow between his brows. “Did you not hear me?” he asks incredulously. A snort comes from his right: “He’s too busy stalking his mate.” Rhys teases, while swirling his drink, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Always one to stir the pot.

Azriel’s face scrunched imperceptibly upon hearing that, “I was not stalking her.” He all but spat the word back at him, “I was watching her.” A bark of laughter left Cassian, “Sounds like the same thing to me.”

“You don’t even know where Nesta is.” Az threw back at him. An offended noise left his brother at that, and a grumbled remark, that caused a chuckle to leave Rhys. But Azriel didn’t hear since he was already out of his seat, making his way over to you.

Babbling drunken nonsense with Mor as she spun you for probably the fourth time in the last two minutes, which caused you to stumble back a few steps, hitting what felt like a brick wall. As you turned around, your smile threatened to split your face in two when you comprehended that it was in fact your mate and not a brick wall.

Whether you realized you had sent your excitement and joy down the bond or not, it still caused his heart to skip a beat. His own dimpled grin grew in response.

”Azriel!” You threw yourself onto him, his arms wrapping around you. The rumble from his laugh was felt from your face smooshed into his chest. “Hi, Angel.” The term of endearment in his deep, husky voice made you feel all fluttery, so you pulled away to get a better look at him.

You yourself had hardly been able to keep your hands and hungry gaze off of him the first half of the night. The silky black shirt, buttoned down so you could see his toned, tattooed chest, the black dress pants that hugged his ass just right, and his onyx hair pushed back a little, compared to his usual tussled curls that fell across his forehead. He looked delicious. So much so that you felt a little drool pooling at the corner of your mouth.

A low laugh left him as he angled your chin to meet his gaze. Eyes, the most gorgeous combination of gold and green. “Can I steal you for a dance?” Your smile grew if that was even possible. “Uh-huh.” was your only reply, as you grabbed his hand.

You threw a glance over your shoulder to signal that you were going to go dance with Azriel, but instead you managed to catch a glimpse of a stumbling Mor making her way over to Feyre. You escorted your mate out onto the balcony for a little more privacy.

As you got in position, it came naturally: a scarred hand pressing into your lower back, pulling you in close, your hand on his silk-covered shoulder, and your other hands clasping together.

Tonight wasn’t like all those times you had to waltz around the hewn city, acting like you couldn’t stand one another, faking so much hatred that became nearly unbearable. No, tonight was just the two of you swaying back and forth. About the love you shared and all those years of pining after one another before you bit the bullet and finally confessed those feelings.

Your head slumped forward, ear resting right over your lover's heart, the rhythm the best music one could ask for. Warmth and adoration being sent down the bond on both sides. This part of the holiday was the best, even if Mor teases you for it.

Eyes flutter close as his night-chilled mist and cedar scent fills your nose. “You smell good.” Words subtly slurred from the alcohol you consumed. A huff of laughter exited through Azriel’s nose, and he pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as a reply. “You look stunning, my love.” His voice like liquid honey, a shiver running up your spine in response.

Pulling your head back to look up at him, smile growing once again, eyes now heavy lidded. “I love you.” words barely above a whisper. His molten, golden gaze softened. “I love you too, Angel.”

His large hand cupped the side of your face, and a contented sigh leaves you as his lips meet yours in a slow kiss. Your own hands trailing up his chest to rest on the nape of his neck.

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a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes, so let me know. This idea popped into my head a couple of days ago, so I thought I might give it a go. I hope you liked it! <3

[connorsui]

Rafayel x wife! Reader || Imagine

"Sunset Love and Baby Kisses"

"I carried you for nine whole months... nine whole months," you teased, holding your baby gently across your chest. Your tone was playfully dramatic as you admired them, their small, round face looking up at you with wide, curious eyes. “And you dare come out looking exactly like your daddy?”

Your baby girl responded with a laugh, her little hands reaching up in a wobbly attempt to grab your face. You couldn’t help but laugh too, your heart filling with a warmth so deep it nearly overwhelmed you.

“Not even a single ounce of me anywhere... no, you just had to come out with blue eyes and all,” you said, shaking your head in mock disappointment as she continued her giggly attempts to capture a strand of your hair. You let out a soft sigh, watching her with an expression somewhere between amusement and awe.

“Gods, you’re even bratty? Did you get anything from me at all? At least show me you got something out of me, will you?”

Your baby answered with an enthusiastic smile, her little hands gripping onto your shirt before leaning forward. Suddenly, she pressed her mouth against your cheek, showering you with slobbery "kisses." You burst into laughter, unable to contain the joy bubbling inside you.

“Okay, okay, maybe you got my love instead,” you said between giggles, wiping the drool from your cheek.

As the laughter faded, you took a moment to breathe in the world around you. The beach stretched out in all directions, the sand soft and warm beneath your feet. The sunset had turned the sky into a brilliant display of color—golden hues melting into pinks, purples, and deep oranges. The waves rolled in lazily, their gentle rhythm lapping against the shore, a soft hum against the peaceful evening. A light breeze carried the scent of saltwater, filling the air with freshness as it brushed against your skin.

You held your baby a little closer, feeling her heartbeat thrum softly against your chest. The sun, low on the horizon, cast a soft glow over everything, painting the scene with an almost dreamlike quality. It was a perfect evening, one of those rare moments where everything felt right—just you, your babygirl, and the endless beauty of the world around you.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through the tranquil sound of the waves.

“Well, speak of the man himself.”

You turned and saw Rafayel walking towards you, the sunset casting a golden light over his features. His messy hair caught the breeze, and his grin—the same grin you’d seen a million times—was filled with that playful, cocky confidence you loved and sometimes pretended to be annoyed by. His eyes, however, softened the moment they landed on you and the baby, a tenderness lingering there that he reserved just for you.

Rafayel knelt down beside you, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His thumb lingered on your cheek as he looked down at the baby with a smirk.

"What’s this I’m hearing about you being jealous of me?” he teased, his voice low and warm.

You raised an eyebrow, flashing him a mock glare as you adjusted your hold on the baby. “Please. I was just explaining how our child came out looking exactly like you. Nine months of carrying them, and what do I get? Nothing but your child like brattiness and your blue eyes in return."

Rafayel chuckled, a sound that blended into the soft crash of the waves. He leaned down to kiss the top of your baby’s head before glancing up at you with that same mischievous glint in his eyes.

“And? Is that really so bad?” he said, his tone playful but filled with affection.

You rolled your eyes but smiled as the baby reached for his hand, their tiny fingers gripping his with the same tenacity they had moments ago when grabbing your hair. Rafayel’s gaze softened even further as he admired them, the pride and love in his eyes unmistakable.

“I guess you’re right about that,” you said, your smile widening as you watched the two of them together. “But just know, if she grows up with your attitude, you can deal with it.”

Rafayel laughed, the sound rich and lighthearted as he leaned closer, his arm sliding around your shoulders. The three of you sat together as the sun continued its descent, bathing everything in the soft, fading light of the evening.

And in that perfect moment, with the breeze, the sunset, and the gentle rhythm of the waves, you realized there was nowhere else you’d rather be. Your little family, wrapped in warmth and love, was all you needed.

[anniebeemine]

I Can Dream About You- s.r. x fem!reader

warnings: wet dreams, pining, oral sex (f. rec), minors dni

All day long, you found yourself lost in thoughts of Spencer Reid. Your mind wandered to the way his hands felt on your skin, the warmth of his lips as they worshiped every inch of your body. It was intoxicating and exhilarating, the way he ignited a fire within you that you couldn’t quite control. You spent hours googling magazine articles, searching for tips and tricks to keep him entertained, desperate to learn how to please him in ways that made your heart race.

That morning had started with an intense dream—a dream where Spencer’s lips grazed over your chest, his breath warm and tantalizing as his fingers dug into your hips. Every touch felt electric, like he was setting you on fire with every caress. His mouth traced a slow, deliberate path down your skin, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress. You could feel yourself unraveling, so close to the edge that your breath hitched, your body arching toward him.

You were right there, on the verge of a blissful release, when the sharp sound of the front door closing and the alarm ringing on your bedside table yanked you back into reality. You’d shot up in bed, disoriented and flushed, your chest heaving as the arousal that had built so intensely in your dream settled deep between your legs. The heat of the moment lingered, leaving you restless, needy, and more than a little frustrated.

People said it was overrated, this kind of infatuation, but you couldn’t help yourself. It had only been three weeks since you had crossed that bridge with him, yet every little thing he did drove you wild. The way he adjusted his glasses, the sound of his laughter—it all sent your heart soaring. You were completely whipped, head over heels for him, and the thought of serving him a made-from-scratch dinner only to drop to your knees in search of his praises made your stomach flutter with anticipation.

As you tidied up your apartment, thoughts of him filled your mind. You envisioned the evening ahead, the scent of roasted garlic and herbs wafting through the air as you prepared his favorite meal. You imagined his reaction, the way his eyes would light up when he tasted your cooking, and how it would feel to have him shower you with affection afterward.

You were so wrapped up in your fantasies that you almost missed the sound of the front door opening. The thump of his shoes hitting the floor, followed by the jingle of his keys as he dropped them into the dish beside the door, sent your heart racing. In an instant, you found yourself bolting toward him, practically tackling him into a hug.

“Hey there,” he chuckled, a warm smile spreading across his face as he wrapped his arms around you. You could feel him melt into your kiss, the world outside fading away as you got lost in the taste of him.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and grinning, you ran a finger down his tie, savoring the way his eyes darkened with desire. He smirked, his gaze flickering to your lips, and teased, “What’s got you all worked up?”

You looked up at him, a coy smile playing on your lips as you confessed, “I dreamt about you all day.” His eyebrows raised in curiosity, prompting you to elaborate.

“Like what?” he asked, his voice laced with intrigue.

Without hesitation, you grabbed him by the tie, leading him toward the bedroom. “How about I show you instead?” The invitation was sultry, and you could see the heat pooling in his eyes as he followed your lead, excitement coursing through you both.

As you entered the bedroom, you turned to face him, feeling the thrill of anticipation in the air. You could see the way his breath hitched, the way he was already entranced by you. You had no doubt that tonight would be one to remember, a beautiful culmination of the fantasies that had filled your mind all day.

With a soft laugh, you pulled him closer, ready to turn your dreams into reality.

When you reached the bed, your fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, unhurried, savoring the way his breath hitched in response. His hands found your waist, gripping you firmly as you slipped his shirt off his shoulders, the fabric falling to the floor. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, trailing soft kisses along your jawline and down to the hollow of your throat.

You shivered at the feel of his mouth on your skin, but when his teeth grazed the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, a small gasp escaped your lips. You could feel the smile tugging at his lips, knowing exactly what he was doing to you. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other.

You pressed your hands to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. His skin was warm and soft, and when you looked up at him, the intensity in his gaze made your knees weak. He was studying you, watching the way your breath quickened and the way your body responded to his every touch.

His hands moved lower, fingers brushing over the curve of your hips before slipping under the fabric of your shirt. He pulled it over your head, discarding it carelessly to the side, his eyes darkening further as he took you in. His fingers trailed down your sides, tracing the lines of your body with a kind of reverence that sent shivers up your spine.

When he leaned down again, his lips found the swell of your breasts, and you let out a soft moan as his mouth worked its way over your skin, teasing and tasting. His hands roamed your body, his fingers digging into your hips just as they had in your dream. It was all too much and not nearly enough.

You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, the desire mounting as his lips traveled lower, leaving a hot trail of kisses down your stomach. Every touch, every kiss felt like it was stoking the flames inside you, building the pressure until you were certain you couldn’t take much more.

Spencer pulled you down onto the bed, his body pressing into yours as he settled between your legs. He took his time, savoring every inch of you, and it wasn’t long before you were a trembling mess beneath him. His mouth was everywhere—on your chest, your stomach, your thighs, leaving no part of you untouched or unloved.

He took his time, exploring you with slow, deliberate movements, as if he wanted to savor every second of having you beneath him. His lips found your neck first, lingering there as he kissed and nibbled along your jawline, then moving down, leaving a trail of heat along your collarbone. The gentle brush of his hair against your skin heightened every sensation, sending shivers racing across your body.

His hands gripped your hips again, anchoring you to the bed as his lips moved lower, the heat of his breath sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. The combination of his touch, his kisses, and the weight of him above you was intoxicating, and you found yourself moaning his name, lost in the sensation of him.

As his mouth descended further, he paused at the curve of your breast, his fingers grazing over your skin before his lips followed suit. His tongue flicked across the sensitive peak, causing you to gasp, your back arching involuntarily as you sought more contact. Spencer responded with a deep, rumbling groan of approval, his hand sliding up to cup your breast, holding it as he lavished attention on you with his mouth, teasing and tasting until you were trembling under his touch.

As his lips returned to yours, the kiss was slow and deep, full of the same passion that had been simmering between you all day. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him against you.

His other hand traced down your side, his fingers skimming over your hip and then gripping it firmly, his thumb stroking slow circles over your skin. The contrast between the tender touch of his mouth and the firm grip of his hands had you aching for more, your body responding instinctively to his every move. You whispered his name, barely able to keep your voice steady, but he only smiled against your skin, the vibration of his low chuckle sending another jolt of pleasure through you.

“Spencer,” you breathed, your voice shaky and filled with need.

Spencer shifted lower, his lips trailing down the curve of your ribs, then lower still, to the softness of your stomach. His tongue flicked out, tracing patterns over your skin, his warm breath teasing you as he moved even further down. He kissed the inside of your thigh, his hands spreading your legs wider, his grip tightening as he anchored you to the bed.

His response was a low growl, his hand moving to the back of your neck as he kissed you harder, his fingers threading through your hair. You arched your back, pressing yourself even closer to him, craving more, needing more.

He looked up at you through hooded eyes, his expression dark with lust, and gave a slow, knowing smile. He was enjoying this, savoring your reactions, your need for him. But he wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t going to make you wait much longer. With one last kiss to your inner thigh, he finally moved to where you needed him most. The first touch of his tongue sent a bolt of pleasure through you, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips. Spencer’s grip on your hips tightened as he held you steady, his mouth working expertly, his tongue exploring every sensitive spot. The way he moved was slow at first, deliberate, drawing out the pleasure until you were writhing beneath him, your fingers twisting in the sheets as you tried to hold on to something, anything.

And he gave you everything. Every touch, every kiss was designed to drive you wild, and when you finally reached the peak, it was like every part of you was on fire. You cried out his name, your body trembling beneath him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

His mouth was everywhere, hot and wet, his tongue moving in long, languid strokes before focusing on the spot that made your body shudder. His hands gripped your hips harder, pulling you closer to him as if he couldn’t get enough, and you lost yourself in the feel of it—of him. Every movement, every flick of his tongue, sent you spiraling closer and closer to the edge again. Spencer responded immediately, his mouth increasing its pace, his tongue swirling and flicking in ways that had your entire body trembling. He knew exactly what you needed, exactly how to push you over the edge, and he didn’t stop until you were crying out his name, your body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

Even as you came undone for a second time, he didn’t stop, his mouth continuing to work you through your orgasm, prolonging the sensation until you were left breathless and spent, your heart pounding in your chest.

Spencer watched you with awe, his own breath ragged as he held you close, his hands soothing over your skin as you came down from the high. You could see the love in his eyes, the quiet admiration that made your heart swell with affection. When he finally pulled away, his hands soothing over your thighs, you could see the satisfaction in his eyes as he climbed back up to kiss you, his lips capturing yours in a slow, languid kiss.

You could taste yourself on his lips, and it only fueled the fire that was still burning inside you. Spencer smiled against your mouth, his fingers brushing the hair from your face as he whispered, “You’re incredible.”

As the two of you lay there, tangled in each other’s arms, the world outside felt a million miles away. All that mattered was this moment, the warmth of his body against yours, and the knowledge that you were his, just as much as he was yours.

You were still breathless, your body humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, but you managed to smile back, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “So are you,” you whispered, pulling him closer, not ready to let go of him just yet. You wanted to stay like this, tangled in each other, forever.

[olivianott]

BRAIN CHEMISTRY

Tell me I’m not the only one happily not recovered from the deatheatertok (yes that’s why I’ve been MIA😬) and the Lorenzo Zurzolo gifs from the other day? 😭 I could not help myself with this one.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, OCTOBER CAME EARLY TO ME.

ꕤ 1.6k words 

ꕤ deatheater!Theo Nott x fem!reader

ꕤ warnings: toxic ex, deatheater Theodore, pure smut, unprotected sex, explicit content, not for minors, 18+

ꕤ all characters are adults

You knew you were in trouble. That you fucked up. You somehow found yourself at a party in an unknown manor. You and your friend got talking with some people at a pub and now you are surrounded by glimmering Death Eater masks. Everyone is acting as if they are just having fun at a party. But you see their eyes following the two of you everywhere. 

You already know what is going on at these parties. You heard stories, awful stories, from him. You wonder if he is in attendance. No. Stop thinking about him, he didn’t want you anymore. He is one of them after all. 

You try to think of a way out for you and your friend. Get drinks, but don’t drink them, discreetly inch towards the entrance while smiling and acting like you’re having the time of your life, getting through the door and the few steps over the anti-apparition wards and poof, you’re both safe. 

That was the plan. Everything went smoothly, until just before getting through the door, your path is crossed by a tall Death Eater with an overly decorated mask. “Hello, beautiful.” He says while you watch your friend successfully execute the plan and disappear with a crack. 

You turn around and try to escape the lewd gaze of the big Death Eater, but there is another one in your path and you realize you are surrounded. Fuck. This is not good. No, don’t panic, don’t panic.

You panic.

Your vision starts to blur and you can’t seem to think straight. Heart in your throat, the ground becomes unsteady. Another mask enters your field of vision, too close to your face. This mask looks elegant, not overly decorated, but with artistic lines strategically curved around the planes of the artificial face. He grabs you by the upper hand and starts to drag you away from the crowd that formed around you, barking something to the other Death Eaters. You try to fight him off but it’s not working, his grip tightens and when you don’t stop, he loses patience with you and puts his wand under your chin. It doesn’t hurt but the threat makes you tremble in fear.

The man leans down next to your ear and hisses: “STOP IT.” The voice is so hard and threatening but at the same time familiar. 

You momentarily freeze and that gives him time to drag you through the hall and into a bedroom. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

He closes the door after you and you finally have time to compose yourself, because he goes to the other side of the room, leaving you alone. While he locks the room with his wand, your mind clears slowly. You suddenly realize why the voice is so familiar. 

Theodore Nott. 

You’ve never seen him in his Death Eater robes and a mask before, but now you can’t stop looking at him. 

Theodore turns around, throws his mask on the bed, and stalks to you so fast, you actually step back in fear until your back is against the door. “Why the fuck are you here?!” He spits in your face, his eyes are feral and full of anger but also fear. 

“It was an accident, my friend thought it would be a good idea to-“ 

“To what? To enter a devil’s lair full of fucking Death Eaters that enjoy killing too much and don’t ask for permission to do anything? Don’t you fucking know what’s going on at these gatherings? Fucking hell!” He is talking quietly but with so much anger, you can actually feel his magic vibrating between you. 

“What’s it to you? You’re one of them now, you look like you’re right at home at this vile party, huh?” 

“Do you really think I like it? That I wanted this? Do you even know where you are?”

“In some nasty pureblood’s manor?”

“Yes. Welcome to the Nott manor.” His sarcastic smile falls off his face as he looks down and backs off of you, finally letting you breathe air. 

Oh. Nott manor. It’s his home. 

“Are you actually hosting this party?”

“Well, as I said, those people don’t ask permission for anything, so here we are. But now you are here and you made this night even more difficult for me. They have set their eyes on you now and they are hungry, in more ways than one. The Death Eaters need their food, and they like to play with it before eating.” 

He says this so matter of factly it takes a while for your mind to catch the whole truth of what you’ve casually walked into tonight. 

“You’re a Death Eater too now.”

“Exactly.” He smirks. 

You’ve missed him so much. His scent brings back memories, and you feel your body heat up despite his arrogant behavior and attempts to scare you off.

“What- what are you going to do to me?” You say breathlessly. Without your permission, your mind shows you pictures of you and him from the past, the little bit of fear just heightening your excitement. 

“Oh please, you know I’m not like-“ he stops himself mid-sentence and focuses his glare on your throat, pulsing with blood rushing through you, your red cheeks, your trembling hands, the rise and fall of your chest. 

“Now I remember.” His mouth curves in this arrogant smirk and his eyes look mischievous at the same time as dangerous. 

“You like danger… you like being scared, amore? Does it turn you on? Tonight you bit more than you could chew though, princessa. And now…. You are trapped in here. With me.” 

You can’t respond to him, but your body does. Your breathing gets more labored and you can’t help your gaze falling to his lips. 

His hand starts roaming down your body while again hovering over you, leaning against the door, the height difference between you more obvious than ever. 

“I- uhh…-“ you are unable to say more. But you close the distance between you and crash your lips against his. 

Theodore groans loudly, takes both your hands in his, and slams them against the door above your head. 

“Oh princessa, you don’t know what you just started, do you?” His hard kisses resume and your mind is filled up with sensations. 

The feel of his body against yours, the hardness of the door digging into your back, his teeth biting your lips, dragging against your throat, his lips sucking on your pulse point. 

Your eyes are closed, but you feel your feet leave the ground as Theodore picks you up and sends you flying on the bed. While crawling over you on the bed, he picks up his mask and puts it on his face. 

Fuuuuck. 

You can barely see his eyes staring down at you from behind the mask, in between the short strands of hair falling down around it. 

The world is a blur now, clothes start flying off of you, his hands tracing your curves. Suddenly he loses patience and flips you over, on your hands and knees on the bed. With his hand under your chin, he makes you look up. A mirror. Your moan is embarrassingly loud. The vision of him in his mask behind you, admiring you through the mirror, hand grabbing your throat… you’ve never seen anything hotter. With his other hand he traces your wetness and groans into your ear: “So ready for me princessa, you really do get turned on with fear and danger. How nasty of you. Was this your plan all along? To get fucked by a Death Eater?”

You can only manage to shake your head no, since he is already opening his Death Eater robes and taking out his beautiful cock. 

“I bet you were hoping to find me here, right? Wanted to make me take you back? Make sweet love and be together forever?“ He chuckles condescendingly at that thought. „Look at you now, writhing under me, dying for me to fuck you like this, with my mask on. Scream for me, princessa.” You can’t see the expression on his face since he is wearing his mask but his words are so degrading and harsh. And still, your eyes roll back into your head. 

And you do scream for him, you can’t help it, you are overwhelmed with sensation, his hands, his cock, his scent. After a while, your arms give out and he pushes your chest down into the bed, holding your hands crossed behind your back, you can’t even move. You are completely at his mercy and the feelings in your head are so confusing. You feel pathetic, under him like this, your body getting rocked by his trusts, but still, the way his cock feels inside you, the way he seems so powerful and in control of you and your pleasure with the way he manipulates your body and mind creates a fog inside your brain. Surrounded by his grunts, you realize he is using you for his satisfaction, seemingly oblivious and uncaring about your comfort or pleasure. You being completely naked, with your face in the mattress while he is still fully clothed behind you is just another layer of the humiliation. But your fucked up brain makes you love it so much that with his whimpery moans in your ear you finally lose control as you feel him lose the rhythm and push all the way inside you, so incredibly deep,  as he spills himself inside you. 

There is no cuddling after. He unceremoniously pulls out and sits in his bed propped up against the headboard, a trembling hand bringing a cigarette to his mouth, while you try to find your clothes and dignity on the floor. 

“Nice show. You were loud enough, so now they know you’re mine and hopefully leave you alone. Doesn’t change anything between us though. You can use the floo to get out of here and I hope to never see you at these things again, you understand me?” He says all of this so coldly and without even looking at you at all, so you quickly throw on your clothes and leave through the floo, throwing a “you’re still the same asshole” at him over your shoulder. 

Sitting on your sofa two days later, you are replaying everything that happened that day in your head. Your brain keeps getting stuck on the fear in his eyes when he dragged you to the room, a shaking cigarette in his hand after the sex, a slight tremble in his voice while he kicked you out of the manor after fucking you into oblivion. 

Maybe everything is not as he wants you to believe. He saved you from them after all. 

As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it. I’m not done with deatheater!Theo though 🤭.

moodboard

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ Your principessa ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚

If you want more: 🖤here🖤

[castiwls]

bed chem .ᐟ

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'i bet we'd have really good bed chem'

Requested; anon

Notes; requests are open again!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

It wasn’t often you found yourself drawn to a stranger sitting in the bar on a random Tuesday night. Normally the patrons of your local bar were your father's age and tended to come simply to chat up the bartenders and start fights over who won at pool. 

Yet today it was different.

You’d noticed him almost immediately and it seemed he’d noticed you as well as in record time you’d found yourself tucked away in a back corner laughing at whatever joke fell from his mouth. One-night stands had never been a good idea - one too many awkward next mornings had all but made the whole idea lose its charm.

Yet sitting her now? You’d never been more ready for an awkward morning in your life.

You’d never understood what your friends had meant when they spoke about instant sexual attraction. How they could look at a guy and just know yet right in this moment you finally understood.

“You can’t be serious?” You laughed, taking a sip from your drink as the stranger - who you now knew as Dean - simply grinned and nodded his head. “As serious as I can be sweetheart.” He shot you a wink before finishing his own drink and placing the glass down with a quiet ‘click.’

He watched you for a moment, his green eyes shining under the dim lights of the bar. His eyes seemed to ravish you almost as his gaze slowly raked over your face, a slight flutter settling in his stomach.

“So, what brings you to this fine establishment on a tuesday night? I’m sure there is more… interesting places for a woman like you.” He raised an eyebrow, a smile which could only be described as charming growing on his lips as he watched you blush slightly.

Seeming satisfied with himself he slowly crept a hand across the small table, his fingers brushing yours where they were still wrapped around your glass. Your own heart was thundering in your chest as his touch seemed to light your skin on fire. 

Your own eyes watched his hand for a moment before clearing your throat. “Small town. Not many options.” A small hum left him as his other hand tapped the table for a moment. “Tight nit.” Dean nodded looking over to the barman for a moment.

The man sent him a guarded look as he watched you both closely while cleaning a glass. “Not everyone's as welcoming as you.”

Nodding you shifted in your seat. “Small town you know. Everyone knows everyone…we’re all pretty close.” 

Dean looked back to you, his smile returning. “Your friend at the bar looks about ready to chop my head off.” His smile slowly slipped into a smirk as an idea lit up in his head. The bar tender had been giving him shit all night - all day actually but you didn’t know that. 

He was more then sure that he was the guy they were looking for but you seemed far more interesting. This could be a win win almost for him, he’d get the girl and also maybe provoke the guy into acting to prove that he actually was who they were looking for.

A quiet laugh left you. The sound was music to his ears almost as he watched your eyes crinkle. “Coles harmless he’s just…protective.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

You hummed quietly raising the glass back to your lips but Dean’s hand stopped you. His own hand wrapped around yours, bringing the glass back down to the table before leaning closer, his knees brushing yours.

Was this actually happening?

His hand reached out to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Are you trying to sweet talk me?”

“Is it working?” He grinned, his eyes lingering on your lips.

Shifting you lent closer, your faces only inches apart. “You have a car?” 

The words seemed almost foreign on your tongue. The drink giving you a confidence you’d never had before. 

But something inside you was screaming that this was the right thing to do. 

Dean’s own eyes widened before he cast a look at the door. “I like your thinking.” 

[milla-frenchy]

3 sides of a man

3k3 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: you meet the biggest seducer of the DEA. There’s no way you will fall for him. Right? Warnings: 18+ mdni. seducer!javi as we know him, soft!javi, somnophilia, oral (m), piv, creampie. No age specified.

a/n: this is written for @burntheedges 's roll-a-trope challenge. I got secret relationship with Javi 🧡 Thank you for the event Kate 👌❤️

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏 @morallyinept for your Javi's dialogue page 🌻

It was already daylight when you woke up, rays of the sun warming your bare back, the sheets a mess at the foot of the bed. You were facing him, the sun only reaching his hand, placed on your pillow. He was asleep, naked, and his tanned ass was a call to sin. His bent knee was pressed against your bare thigh. You loved when he slept in your bed, which would keep his scent for a few days. A mixture of cold tobacco, cologne, sex. Of him.

Javi.

He sighed in his sleep, rolling onto his back. Revealing his happy trail that seemed to trace a light line down to his bush, and his soft, sleeping cock. Soothed.

You bit your lip, trying to resist the temptation. Your gaze trailed up his body, to his biceps that bore the mark of a hickey you had given him during the night, while he was fucking you slowly, lying between your thighs, keeping you consensually trapped in his arms. Desire overflowed from your folds as you thought about it. Quickly, you raised your gaze to his beautiful face, his carefully groomed mustache, his cheek scarred with the crease his pillow had given him. His messy hair, both from the dance of your two bodies and from the night of sleep.

You were so fucked.

When you joined the ambassador's office, fresh from the US, you didn't expect to break some of your principles. The most important being having a secret relationship with the biggest player of the DEA, who regularly checked out every woman in the department, and used his charm to get around the administrative burden that drove him crazy.

Peña

The first time you saw him act that way, was actually the day you met him. You were sitting in the hallway of the DEA, waiting to be received by the ambassador. You saw this man, wearing clothes that seemed glued to him and a little dated. Dark hair, brown eyes, a cigarette between his lips, walking next to another agent- a blond one. When they passed one of the assistants, the dark-haired man turned around to check her ass, and you hadn't been able to stop yourself from exclaiming a high sigh. He looked at you and paused for a moment before catching up with his coworker.

The ambassador came out of her office at the moment they reached you, and introduced you. Their names were Steve Murphy and Javier Peña. Peña held your hand for half a second too long, and your frown made him smile slightly, until your hands separated. As if you had become a challenge he had to win.

There was no way he would think you would be receptive to his play, even if he was one of the most gorgeous men you ever met.

That man was surely a seducer, but you noticed soon he was a mystery. He loved to check women out, but mostly he seemed to love the power of seduction he naturally had over them. He didn't use flirtatious looks, he didn't have a special or warm attitude. And despite all that, he didn’t have to try hard, they fell for him. You couldn't help but roll your eyes each time you were seeing their eyes sparkle when he spoke to them, or the way they would wrap a lock of hair around their finger.

They did not see that his gaze on them was fake, almost cold. That he just used them to get rid of what was bothering him in his hunt for Escobar. They didn’t realize they were the asset of the moment, forgotten as soon as he got the information or paper he wanted. Replaced quickly by some next asset. You didn’t understand how they could fall for him so easily. 

Of course, he quickly realized you were really not receptive to his play. You didn’t giggle when he spoke to you, you didn’t lean forward when you had something to ask him. You talked to him neutrally at best, but mostly coldly, calling him “Peña”, always. He gave you a piercing look once or twice, seeing that his charm wasn't working with you. 

You even confronted him one day, when you turned towards him on the stairs, and he didn’t have time to look up from your ass fast enough. You started to climb the stairs again, letting out a “no need to look, Peña. You’ll never fuck me.” He raised his hand towards him, ready to answer you, when you cut him off: “and don’t offend me by saying that’s not what you want. You won't pin my name on your list of conquests.” After that, you caught his gaze on you sometimes, but in a different way. Like a burglar searching patiently for the combination to a safe. 

You kept hearing conversations of agents talking about him and how he used his informants to know more about the sicarios. Or even some conversations between him and Steve in the corridors of the DEA:

"Are you fucking her?"

"Sleep with a communist? That would be downright un-American." 

Peña barely hid the sarcasm in his voice.

Nevertheless, you quickly learned that the man you only took for a seducer happened to be one of the best agents of the DEA. Serious, invested, abrupt. Bossy. Never hesitating to speak his mind. He had a bad reputation among some of his male colleagues. He obviously didn’t care at all, and even seemed to enjoy it, but you hated it. Hated the injustice, hated the fact that he was criticized for doing his job better than them. He wasn’t your favorite person in the world, far from it, but his professionalism couldn’t be questioned in good faith.

Another thing his colleagues or superiors might have hated was his sassiness. Sometimes you didn't even know if you should be shocked or amused by his condescending insolence.

One day he saw your half amused, half embarrassed smile, even though you tried to hide it behind your hand. From the day you met, Javi was determined to make you look at him differently. Not even like the other women did. He wanted you to really see him. The real Javi that he never showed to anyone since he moved to Columbia. Step by step, the way you looked at him obsessed him. He didn't care about other people's opinions, except for yours. Partly because you resisted him and he wasn't used to it, but also because he could sometimes see parts of your real personality that you were hiding, just like him, and it was as if he knew instinctively he would like it. So the day he heard your suppressed laughter, he knew how to behave around you.

Javier

What you didn’t know was that the man he was going to show you would make his way into your mind. Offering you sensitivity, even softness sometimes, you didn’t expect. His smile for you was warm. At first, you thought he was playing with you, acting differently just to have you. And there was no way it would happen. You tried to change the way you were beginning to perceive him. But the sincerity he showed, so different from his initial attitude, was slowly winning you over.

It took him months, but you started to call him Javier, instead of Peña. And you realized one day that you liked the sound of his first name on your lips a little too much. 

You didn't roll your eyes anymore when he was talking to you, and he seemed to act slightly differently with the women at the office. After a year in the DEA, he was not only making you smile, but laugh too, and you admired the way he stood up to the ambassador. Or the way he walked down the halls in his leather jacket. Or the way he held his cigarettes.

Your brain tried to warn you that you were screwed, but your heart silenced it. An internal battle your brain was already losing.

He became almost a friend, with whom you spoke about your previous lives. He told you about Loredo, his father and the ranch. You knew that he kept certain aspects of his life secret, but patiently, you were hoping to learn more. You told him about your childhood, in Texas too, your studies, how you had joined the Ambassador's office.

And finally, he became a friend. A friend you suddenly kissed at home one day, before he pinned you against the wall of your dining room, letting out an impatient “I thought you didn’t want me to fuck you?” between two kisses, to which you responded with a breathless “shut up, Javi,” your fingers lost in his tousled hair. “Javi, uh?” he growled, pushing the head of his cock in your cunt.

He fucked you against the wall, and you made him promise never to tell anyone about it, demanding nothing else from him. You really thought it would be a one time thing. Except that the way his cock spread your folds and brushed your g spot was a little too perfect. And the way he talked to you through it, half spanish half english, was way too intoxicating to stop, now that you had tasted it.

And now his tight jeans seemed to scream “fuck me” at you every time you saw him at the DEA.

You saw a clear change in his attitude after the second time you fucked. Probably because he felt you tense up when Colleen showed him her new nail polish. You couldn’t help yourself, even though you quickly pulled yourself together. But not fast enough for him not to notice. He avoided Colleen, and didn’t try to tease you about it. Didn’t play. That night, you told him he could fuck whoever he wanted, just before impaling yourself on his thick cock, after you pushed him against the couch.

“Really? You wouldn't mind?” he smiled, before grabbing your hips and imposing the rhythm he wanted. Or rather, the rhythm he knew you wanted.

You didn’t mention it again, and Colleen never showed him her nails again. He didn’t give compliments in a seductive way anymore either, didn’t turn around to look at every woman he passed in the hallway.

You loved it a little too much, when after you barely opened the door to your apartment, he would slip through the crack and wrap his arm around your waist, holding you tight against him while his lips were already pressing against yours. Your hand resting on his shoulder covered by the leather of his jacket, helped you to keep your balance as he was spinning you around. A spin that made you lose your mind for a moment while your heart didn't know how to stop spinning at all.

It was more and more difficult for you to hear some of his coworkers calling him an asshole. You asked him why he only showed them that side of himself, while you knew how much he had to offer.

“Why would I show them anything else? We work together, they do their job, I do mine, that’s all,” he answered with a shrug. “I don’t care about them,” he added, looking you straight in the eye, which made you swallow loudly, hearing his way of expressing in half-words how special you had become to him.

And on top of his professional skills, he fucked you like a god, making you chant “Javi” in the darkness of your or his bedroom. He was way too hot, enjoying an after sex cigarette, lying on the couch in his jeans, looking at you with his messy hair, as if he already wanted to fuck you again.

Javi 

He respected your choice to keep your relationship a secret, but couldn’t help but let his hand rest on the small of your back for a little too long, when he followed you to the elevator. He was torturing you with his sad puppy eyes when you said ‘no’ to him, for whatever professional reason. Forcing you to frown when someone else was nearby, to make him stop. Then he would stop, smiling, and you would fall a little more for him.

It made Steve smile once or twice, clearly not fooled.

“Are you gonna see Vanessa after work, Javi?” he asked him once, in your presence. You didn’t know who Vanessa was, but the way your heart suddenly curled up on itself made you think that your brain was definitely right, months ago.

“No,” Javi answered, visibly annoyed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been there.”

Steve smirked before leaving the office.

“You’re ok?” asked Javi, eyebrows furrowed, concerned.

“Yeah,” you replied through gritted teeth, trying to catch your breath after holding it for what felt like far too many seconds. You left for a meeting, while he was rubbing his fingers anxiously.

The thing is, you loved a little too much how he kissed your lips, your nose, your neck. Feeling his moustache move down your shoulder, kissing your skin without stopping before reaching one of your nipples, sucking, nibbling, licking it. Everything about him was sensual and feline. Soft. He was made to love, kiss, fuck. And you realized that you couldn't do without him anymore. And that your heart couldn't bear to share him with someone else.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked you that night, at your place, just after you hung your jacket on the coat rack.

“Talk about what?” 

He tilted his head to the side, and added gently “come on baby, don’t play with me.” 

You tried to smile. Tried to shoo away the invisible hands that were gripping your heart, squeezing it like a lemon.

“Vanessa’s a hooker,” he said, and you stopped him, reminding him softly that he didn’t have to explain anything.

“I just want you to know, hermosa. I don’t want you to get wrong ideas.”

Hermosa. It was the first time he called you that, your little heart starting to beat again and pushing back the pressure that had been increasing on it until then.

“I used to go to that brothel. But I haven’t in a while. In fact… I’m seeing only you, baby.”

“I told you I wasn’t asking anything from you, Javi,” the smile on your lips wasn’t reaching your eyes that were about to burst into tears.

“I know. But there are things we say out loud. And  things our bodies say. I see the way you tense up sometimes. And I don’t want that. There’s no one else.”

Your gaze was downcast as he processed his confession. He gently grabbed your chin, between his thumb and index finger, lifting it towards you.

“Is that ok?”

You nodded, and he gave you the sweetest kiss ever, his soft moustache brushing your skin.

“You still want this to be a secret?” he asked, and you nodded again.

“Okay. It’s hot.” His warm smile was devastating and it was impossible for you not to fall for him. “And seeing you blush and roll your eyes at me in the office… it’s really cute.” This time the smile reached your eyes, and the tears that had been threatening to fall until then dried up. He took you in his arms and kissed you, his hands resting on your cheeks as your arms were wrapped around his shoulders.

You were thinking about it, the morning after having this conversation, lying in your bed facing him asleep, while you could no longer count the number of times you fucked.

Or ignoring how fast your heart was beating for him.

Yeah, you were fucked.

And couldn’t resist the cock in front of you anymore. You wanted to feel it come to life in your mouth, thickening until your lips ached around it.

You settled right next to him, trying to move the mattress as little as possible so as not to wake him. The tips of your fingers lightly ran over his bush, strewn with little white pearls of cum, and your desire from the night that had flooded on him.

The tip of your tongue delicately brushed his cock. Both of your tastes instantly coating your throat. You licked his slit before taking his tip into your mouth.

“Hermosa?” he muttered in a sleepy voice, lifting his head to understand why he was feeling heat spreading from his crotch.

“Shhh, lemme suck your cock, Javi.”

“Damn,” he said, letting his head rest on the pillow, his fingers on his forehead. “You're gonna kill me.”

“I hope not,” you chuckled and took him back into your mouth, your lips focusing on his tip.

And you loved hearing his breathing quicken when you took him deep in your throat.

You loved how his fist tightened in your hair when you licked the thin skin of his balls.

You loved hearing him moan when you sucked his tip, or licked his shaft from his balls to his crown.

You could never have enough and you wouldn't have stopped until his hot cum filled your mouth, if he hadn't placed his hand tenderly on the back of your neck.

“Come here, baby. Wanna feel you against me.”

Your eyes locked with his for a little too long, while you were still kneeling between his thighs, your hand on his shaft, and your lips still rounded around his tip. A twitch of the corner of his lips warmed your heart. You released his cock, letting his precum flow into your throat one last time, and kissed him before laying down on the bed. He settled between your thighs, just like you loved the most. That way you could see him. Lock your eyes with his, while his cock would brush against your walls relentlessly, in the sweetest, perfect way. Like he was made for you. You loved to see that his stare wasn't fake or cold towards you. Day after day, your heart was melting a little more.

And you wanted to keep it a secret, you wanted Javi for you only, for now. You loved this little secret garden that made your story so special, only yours. You loved being the only one, seeing his warm smile and eyes.

His hand brushed your cheek as he asked “what's going on in your pretty head, baby?”

“Just you, Javi…,” you answered.

“Really? Good thoughts, or bad thoughts?”

“Oh, terrible,” you smiled, while your fingers were running through his dark hair.

“Of course. Gonna have to change that, then,” he said, nestling his wide tip at your entrance, the sensation alone making you moan.

“What about those thoughts, now?”

“A little better,” you breathed out, your playful gaze fixed on him.

“Mmmm….” He slid his forearms under your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “And now?”

You whined and hid in his neck, as he was thrusting in, slower than ever.

“They're… good. Oh my god so fucking good, Javi.”

“I thought so,” he chuckled. “Fuck, baby…” he added, his shaft sinking slowly until your core fully welcomed it. Your eyes were rolling back in the back of your head with every brush against your g spot.

“Keep going, Javi, please,” you whimpered. “I want more, please. I need a little more.”

“I know, baby, I'm not going anywhere. You're always so wet, so tight, so fuckin’ perfect for me.”

He kept thrusting in slowly, like both of you needed it, until you came on his shaft, and he came in your cunt, deep, so deep. Moaning in your neck. Your breaths slowed down, and he kissed your neck and your chin.

You drove to the office in two separate cars, as usual. You went to a meeting as soon as you got there. When you got back to your office and opened your drawer to put a file in it, you found a note in Javi’s handwriting.

“Already miss you. Can’t wait to have you just for me tonight, and feel your skin against mine.”

Javi p masterlist

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