#each are from a different fic of mine- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seiwas · 4 months ago

Text

andie you have made me yearn for this man with a want so deeply rooted into my being 🥲😭🥲

i maxxed the tags but just wanted to add this one more thing — that he is soooo acts of service here its driving me insane. to be loved is to be known, that saying 🥲 my chest ached at the bookstore, at when he said that everything that’s his is rdr’s oh my goooood literally HOW TO GET A HE. HOW TO GET A HE i’m losing it. thank u for writing this I SWEAR

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑣

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike.All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, knotting, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 7.6k | chapter 4 of 4

Then

“Shouto duty,” was the first thing Touya grumbled as he emerged from his house.

A little shadow with red and white hair peered out from behind him, big eyes staring up at you. Shouto was dressed in a periwinkle t-shirt and khaki shorts in the late spring heat, and he was nearly vibrating with excitement. You reached out reflexively to pat that fluff of hair, and Shouto seemed to lean into your touch like a cat, probably starved of affection from his fussy older brother.

“My lucky day,” you said, grinning at the way it made Touya roll his eyes.

Shouto nearly launched himself off the steps, looking quietly thrilled to be tagging along. He shoved himself in between you and Touya as you walked, as if unable to bear Touya’s proximity to you, making Touya bark out an annoyed, “Oi, watch it.”

Shouto ignored him, turning to you. “Y/N, I have something to tell you.”

You looked down at him curiously. “What?”

“I lost a tooth,” he said, staring up at you seriously. You laughed, knowing most kids would have smiled to show off their tooth gap, but Shouto had always been a little bit more withdrawn, though he was fairly open around you.

“When?” you asked, ignoring Touya’s scoff. “Did the tooth fairy come?”

Shouto nodded. “Last night. I am adding the money to my inheritance for you.”

That made you laugh again, and you bumped his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Shouto. I think you should buy yourself something with it though. Especially in this weather—it’s good popsicle weather.”

Shouto looked like he was seriously considering this. “Do you like popsicles?”

You nodded. “Definitely.”

He seemed to pocket that information, and you hid a fond smile. That kid was too sweet for his own good, when it came to you. You wondered when his little case of older-brother’s-friend worship would end. You hoped not for another few years, at least.

“Fucking finally,” Touya said when he caught sight of Rumi and Keigo at the end of his neighborhood, his booted steps growing faster, as if eager to get away from the two of you.

You didn’t mind—Shouto was easy company.

“Oi!” Keigo called out to you, waving a skinny arm. You accompanied Shouto over, watching with a little bit of self-satisfaction when Shouto ducked a hair ruffle from Rumi, the look on his face almost reminiscent of Touya.

You were still his favorite, it seemed.

The usual round of arguments commenced about what to play now that all of you were united, Touya snottily vetoing everyone’s suggestions—except, notably, Keigo’s. Eventually you settled on hide and seek, something Shouto could participate in too, since it didn’t involve convoluted rules, and established a set distance you could go.

Finally Shouto was dubbed the first seeker, and the rest of you took off into the surrounding neighborhood.

You immediately beelined for the sprawling oak at the edge of the neighborhood, its thick, leafy branches the perfect place to conceal yourself. Touya, Keigo, and Rumi had long caught on to the fact that you were almost always to be found up a tree, but Shouto hadn’t played this game with you before.

Thirty seconds and one bark-scraped palm later had you settled in your hiding place, just as you caught Shouto’s shout from afar, “Ready or not, here I come!”

You quieted your breath, listening for the sound of his approach. This late in spring, the cicadas were already roaring. The leaves rustled around you in the breeze and you could hear some other band of kids shrieking and laughing, far in the distance.

It was nearing ten minutes on by the time you heard the thump of Shouto’s sneakers approaching, and you could just make out that distinct mop of bright hair through the branches. He poked around behind bushes, peering at eye level, but didn’t seem to think to look up for you. You watched him hunt through the surrounding area, then dash off when you heard a distinctly Keigo squawk not too far away.

You were nearly asleep on your tree branch when you heard his return, and you sat up quietly to watch him again. You were impressed that he seemed to know you were somewhere nearby.

As you watched him rifle around, you wondered if you should drop a hint, just because he’d been so sweet to you earlier. He’d been so adorable insisting he’d save you his tooth money.

You deliberately rustled a branch, leaning on it so it made a loud creak.

Immediately, Shouto’s head snapped up. Two mismatched eyes narrowed in on you, and his face seemed to brighten when he saw you. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

“Caught you,” he called up to you.

You stuck a leg down tauntingly. “Not yet.”

Something passed over Shouto’s face, and his gaze seemed to sharpen. “I have, too.” You could almost hear a foot stamp in his voice.

You grinned. “Not until I get down.”

A determined look settled across Shouto’s features, and he prowled over to the tree. You watched him jump for a lower branch, catching it securely before hefting himself up. His arms were skinny, but his movements were sure, intent. In no time at all you were helping lever him onto your own branch, pulling him up alongside you.

“I caught you,” Shouto repeated, settling a proprietary hand on your arm. His hand was warm, and his fingers caught your wrist tightly.

You smiled. “I let you catch me by making all that noise, you mean.”

A tiny frown pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I knew you were around here,” he said, something almost like a pout in his voice.

You laughed. “I did notice you came back. Those are some good tracking skills—although don’t forget to look up. I’m usually always up a tree, when it comes to hide and seek, and Touya and the others I think have caught on too. They’re probably up their own trees somewhere.”

“I do not care about finding them,” Shouto said. His straightforward tone startled a laugh out of you.

You settled back against the branch, Shouto still gripping your arm firmly. “Should we let them wait, then?” you asked, grinning. “I bet Rumi will come out on her own pretty soon, she’s so impatient.”

Shouto nodded. “I will stay here with you.”

The sincerity of the statement warmed you, the way Shouto’s serious little proclamations always did. He was too sweet for this earth. “Then shall we discuss which popsicle you’re going to get later? I have some recommendations.”

Shouto nodded seriously, and you launched into your nonsense, pleased. The leaves rustled around you, the breeze cool and pleasant against your skin. It felt like time stretched out around you, thick like taffy, slow and lazy and easy in the late spring breeze.

You thought absently that wished you could have a million more moments, Shouto the easiest company beside you, just like this.

Now

The morning of the run dawned warm and dry, sunny with a light breeze.

It was perfect hiking weather, and that was the only thing that kept you in good spirits. You tried not to think about Shouto—about how he was going after someone today, how you’d possibly seen him for the last time before he did. He’d said he’d find your tree, but there was really no guarantee his omega was going to run in the same direction as you.

You ate breakfast on the couch with your mother, listening to her excitedly chatter about your prospects today. You hammed it up a little bit, pretending you had any interest in being chased by an alpha, so that you could milk it later and avoid promises to commit to next year’s run. You hoped it would be enough of a deterrent for her—every year you grew older without a mate, she seemed more desperate to find you one.

You repacked your bags, readying yourself to board your train back to the city tomorrow, feeling mournful. Then you spent the rest of the morning finishing up the small things your mother had let go while you were gone, YouTubing your way through a door knob repair, and some weather stripping replacements. You lifted her air-conditioning into the window, swearing and sweating the whole time and wishing you had even a fraction of Shouto’s easy alpha strength.

After everything was finished, you packed up for the run, placing all your snacks and the sandwich Shouto had helped assemble into a small backpack, stuffing in a water and a book after. Then you scrounged around in your clean laundry for some hiking clothes, settling on leggings and a tee-shirt, no reason to try to impress anyone.

It was late morning by the time you ducked out of your house and started the trek to the preserve on the edge of town. Throngs of people were already gathered when you got there, alphas and omegas alike crowding the entrance. An overwhelming mixture of scents washed over you, the sweetness and florals of the omegas, the tang and spice of the alphas, even the small muted underwash of a few betas.

The overstimulation was nostalgic, and brought to mind your first few runs—the anticipatory hope you felt, the determination not to get caught for some one-time mating with an alpha who wouldn’t prove to be your life mate. It had been years, and you knew the outcome already this time, but some small thrill of anticipation thrummed in your veins regardless.

You kept to the edge of the crowd, sprawling out on the grass until the organizers called for the omegas and running betas to come forward to their starting mark. The alphas and remaining betas would be called to the mark a half hour later, to follow their intended targets into the preserve.

Then the whistle was being blown, and the crowd of omegas around you surged into the forest.

The first hundred meters of the preserve were a tangle of wild trees and overgrowth—omegas typically stayed on the trails until the forest opened up, several paths intersecting and leading away into hills and towards a pond, with the last one stretching towards the coast. This was your usual route and you followed it until the trees thinned out, then stepped off the path to tromp through the woods in the direction of the coastline.

You kept a brisk pace, wanting to get as far in as you could before the alphas were let in. Eventually the spruces and firs gave way to mostly coastal scrub pines amid tall grass, and you could smell the ocean through the trees, hear the crash of the waves against the rocky outcroppings.

You stepped out of the woods along a small coastal path that stretched for miles, and followed it a few minutes more until it flattened out. There was a small meadow laid into the coastline, spanning several square meters of pale seagrass and flowering bushes, shaded by an enormous willow tree—your target.

The meadow had a beautiful view of the shining blue waves through the barren scrub trees, but more importantly it was out of the way, little known to people who did not frequent the coastline trails. The willow was the perfect cover, its trailing fingers and dense greenery more than enough to hide one disinterested beta.

You ducked through the leaves, latching onto one of the lower branches and heaving yourself up. It had been years since you’d climbed anything—the city not exactly chalk-full of great climbing trees—but you were pleased to find it just as satisfying. You scrambled up into the canopy, testing your weight against your designated branch, finding it still held you easily.

Perfect.

You immediately rewarded yourself with a granola bar, settling onto your branch and chewing contentedly, pleased with the temperature. The sun was hot, but in the shade of the leaves and the salty breeze drifting in off the sea, it was perfectly comfortable.

You’d just gotten out your book to read, flipping to the spot you’d last left off at, when the chirp of nearby birds stopped. The meadow seemed to grow quiet around you.

You sat up, alert, at the soft tread of a bootfall close by. Your breath froze in your lungs. An omega, looking for a place to hide? Or some alpha?

Except then a long-fingered hand parted the hanging tendrils of the willow, and a familiar head of scarlet and white hair was ducking inside the canopy.

Embarrassingly, your heart swelled. Shouto had made time to stop in before finding his omega.

“Shouto!” you shouted down, pleased.

Shouto’s face tipped up to you, a tiny smile on his mouth. He looked especially good today, you thought, a navy tee shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, baring the flesh of his biceps, a flush on his cheeks from the warm spring sun. He looked a little taken apart, windswept like he’d run here, and you furiously stamped down on the flash of heat in your tummy.

Nope. No.

“Y/N,” Shouto intoned quietly, his eyes glittering up at you. “Caught you.”

You were momentarily taken aback by the sound of something unfamiliar in his tone, some strange intensity in his voice and expression. It sounded almost like it meant something to find you here, something more than a momentary pitstop on his way to his omega—but of course that was ridiculous.

You waved down at him, smiling and sticking a leg down tauntingly like when you were kids. “Not yet.”

Shouto’s eyes narrowed, a flash of something predatory tinging his handsome features.

In the blink of an eye, he crossed to the tree, dense muscle coiling and pulling beneath his tee shirt as he pulled himself up. This time he needed none of your help, moving with a panther-like grace. He pulled himself onto the branch immediately below yours, close enough that it put him at eye level with the bottom of your chin.

Then he reached out and snared your ankle in one large, warm hand, a smug sort of glint in his eye. The follow up caught you went unspoken.

Another laugh bubbled up out of you. “Alright alright, this time you got me,” you agreed, flexing your ankle in his hold.

Shouto’s mouth turned up, clearly pleased, but he did not let go. A thumb stroked softly along the hollow beneath your ankle bone. A surprised shiver caught you, sliding up your spine.

“You, um, got here so quick,” you said, trying to think past the sudden fuzz of static in your brain. You hoped your voice sounded impressed and not embarrassingly breathy. “Did you at least note which way your life mate went?”

Shouto’s head tilted, his bangs falling into his eyes as his thumb petted across your skin again. “I did.”

You nodded approvingly, tensing against another shudder. “Did they come out this way? You’re probably the first alpha to make it out here but you won’t want to waste too much time.”

Shouto’s mouth twitched, those heterochromatic eyes trailing down your face. “No time spent with you is a waste.”

That made your face warm. You tried to prod him with your foot, but Shouto’s grip was firm. “You’re going to want to save the charm for your life mate, mister.”

“I am,” he said simply, tone sincere.

You felt your brow furrow—now what was that supposed to mean?—when suddenly Shouto leaned forward, abandoning his grip on your ankle. His hands found the branch at either side of your hip, trapping you inside his reach. You stared down at him, stunned with his sudden proximity.

You felt suddenly a little caged in, your breath pulling up short. What was he—?

“Will you come down to me?” Shouto asked, eyes intent on yours.

The ask felt significant, though you had no idea how. And he was so close, so focused on you.

But you had no clue exactly what he would need you to come down for. Maybe he wanted to split lunch or something? You had your sandwich in your bag, and it would be easier on the ground, you supposed.

Although Shouto probably shouldn’t go running around on too full a stomach, especially if he—with his omega, after—if they…

You found you couldn’t think it, your mind shying away like you’d prodded a nerve.

Really, Shouto should be going soon, before any ranging alphas made it this far out and sniped his life mate before he got to them.

With that thought, however, some selfish thing recoiled inside of you. You desperately craved just a few more minutes with him—this achingly familiar boy, this mind-numbingly beautiful man—before he wasn’t really yours to think of anymore. These were the last few moments you’d get to spend with him before everything changed. It took less than a second to make up your mind.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “I’ll come down.”

You shifted, gathering your backpack and maneuvering off your branch carefully. Shouto gave you just enough space to get down, a hand finding your waist as you steadied yourself. He shadowed you down, close at your back to make sure you didn’t slip.

He was acting the consummate gentleman—but there was a strange tension about him, something about the way he moved and the intensity with which he was trailing you. There was something expectant about it, something almost impatient.

Maybe he needed you to hurry up so he could get going. That was probably it.

You turned to your backpack as soon as he guided you safely to the ground. You’d barely gotten it unzipped, however, when Shouto suddenly crowded into your space, startling you.

You stumbled a reflexive step back, breath whooshing out of you when your back connected with the trunk of the willow. Shouto followed, still watching you with that unnerving intensity.

His fingers dipped under your chin, softly turning your face up to his. His gaze was serious—more solemn than you had ever seen him. You went still in his grasp, heartbeat rabbiting in your chest.

What was with him today?

“Shouto,” you said slowly. “Are you… alright?”

Shouto leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. His slow exhale ghosted over your mouth, thumb stroking across your jaw. It sent a swarm of shudders down your spine, and you suddenly weren’t breathing at all.

“I have dreamed of this moment a thousand times,” Shouto said, his tone reverent. It was almost a whisper.

His tone implied there was something incredibly significant about this moment, but you could not for the life of you think of what. Especially not with his face so close, clouding up your thoughts.

You felt your brow furrow against his, and you opened your mouth to ask him what on earth he could be talking about.

Except before you could, Shouto’s hands took either side of your face. And then he bent his head—and pressed his mouth to yours.

All higher thought immediately evacuated your brain, leaving only a sudden zing of panic and the horrible, wonderful excitement of Shouto’s mouth on yours, of Shouto’s strong body so close to yours. Rough bark scraped against your back as Shouto’s front slotted warm and firm against your chest, and the feeling of all that strength pressed so tightly to you made you dizzy.

“Sho–-? Whuh—?” you said, slightly muffled into his mouth.

But Shouto only took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, soft and wet and so unbelievably hot your brain short circuited. Every single nerve ending in your body lit up as you realized Todoroki Shouto had his tongue in your mouth, and that he was kissing you so thoroughly and meticulously it felt as though this was the last kiss he’d ever be allowed. You heard yourself let out a gasp that turned into an embarrassing moan as he pressed harder against you, pinning you between himself and the tree.

Your mind felt like it was melting, Shouto’s mouth doing terrible things to your thoughts’ coherence. Your hands went to his shoulders, and you found yourself opening up to him, every inch of your skin hot. Every flick of his tongue, every brush of his lips felt better than you could have ever imagined, and you were helpless to do anything but let him have you.

Your thoughts were a puddle when Shouto finally let your mouth free. All you could do was stare up at him, shocked.

“Y/N,” Shouto said, his eyes searching your face. “You came down for me.”

His handsome face wore an expression you hadn’t ever seen before as he regarded you, something almost—possessive? His hands had slid to your waist, his touch hot through the material of your shirt.

Your brain swam. Words, what were words? “I—? Uh, yes—?”

Shouto seemed to understand you weren’t getting his point. “‘If I’m not an alpha, and I have to hide somewhere, I’m going to find the best tree in the preserve and go up it and not come down until I find my life mate,’” he said.

It sounded like a quote, and it took you an embarrassingly long moment to realize it was something you had said, years and years and years ago, when you were both kids.

Was he saying—? But that was absurd. No, there was no way. You hadn’t—he wasn’t—

“But you’re Shouto,” you groped around your thoughts for logic and reasoning. “You’re Shouto.”

Shouto watched you patiently, a white eyebrow raising slightly.

“You can’t mean—?” you sputtered. “No. You’re Touya’s baby brother. I’m too old for you. The first time I held you, you were a baby.”

Shouto pressed impossibly closer to you, a long-fingered hand winding its way into yours. “I am not a child, Y/N. And you are not that much older than I.”

You struggled to think through the feeling of his body pressed to yours. You knew it. You knew he wasn’t a child. But all the same, you’d spent long enough telling yourself he’d been meant for someone else. Long enough convinced that you were too old for him.

Long enough that you were absolutely certain this had to be a mistake.

“You’re off limits,” you told him, trying to press him back. Shouto did not budge, however, as solid as stone under your hand.

“You are my life mate,” he said. He raised your joined hands to his mouth, kissing over your knuckles. An electric jolt went through you at the feeling of that mouth on you again, firm and warm. “I have known my whole life. I am off limits to all but you.”

A storm of emotion churned in your gut, everything from guilt to disbelief to pleasure to relief. To hear it said so plainly, after all this time—you are my life mate—by a man who was already so beloved to you. By a boy you’d loved as a friend, a man who you wanted to love as more.

But you couldn’t—he had to deserve better.

“I won’t take advantage of you,” you insisted.

A small smile pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I am not a child. And I am an alpha besides. Your alpha.”

You fought down a furious flush.

“But Shouto there’s so many things–!” you insisted. Beyond being older than him, beyond being a staple in his life since he was young. You were quickly realizing so many of the promises he’d made when he was younger, he actually meant.

“Your inheritance—I never meant to accept that from you for real. And your family, they would not like that I—”

The rest of your words were muffled in Shouto’s mouth, as he bent his head and kissed you again. A flick of his tongue turned even that into a muffled squeak instead. Why was he so good at this?

“Much of my family understands what it means to pursue something singularly,” Shouto said against your lips. “What it means to give everything you have in service of pursuit.”

Your stomach flipped. The Todoroki single-mindedness that you had been convinced had skipped right over Shouto. Suddenly years of solemn watchfulness over you, years of following you like a shadow, years of sharing all his toys and his thoughts and promising to take care of you—it all made a terrible, perfect sort of sense.

Single-mindedness. But not as destruction, as Enji’s and Touya’s had been. As devotion—as thoughtfulness, something so uniquely Shouto you wanted to cry.

God how had you missed this?

You rallied yourself for one last defense.

“Shouto. At the very least you need to consider if you’re making a mistake. Alpha-beta couplings are nontraditional—maybe your senses are off here. Maybe because I’m a beta and I was around when your brain was still forming and you liked me then it feels like there’s something but—”

Shouto’s grip on you flexed, and suddenly his determined expression flickered, a crease forming between those perfect brows.

“Do you see me as a child still?” he asked.

You shook your head. Not since you’d seen him prowl across the Todoroki kitchen, miles of sleek muscle flexing, that perfect campfire scent fogging your brain, tall and gorgeous and unmistakably alpha. And especially not since you’d come to understand the expanse of his life—the home he’d made, the job he had, the goals he’d taken.

“Then do you… not want me?” he asked.

Your heart immediately sank, aching with the soft flicker of hurt that crept across his features.

Your hands had shot out to hold his face before you knew what you were doing.

“Shouto, of course I want you,” you found yourself saying. “Who wouldn’t want you? You are perfect. You are so kind and have always been so good. You are sweet and funny and so beautiful it hurts to look at. Of course I want you. But I don’t want to hurt you—”

“Then say yes,” Shouto insisted.

God you wanted to. You wanted to. You had been so jealous this whole week, you realized, of whoever his life mate was going to be.

The realization crashed into you like a wave, knocking you off balance. You wanted all of Shouto’s time, all of his attention, wanted to curl up in his apartment on that plush couch with him and all but bodily fuse to him, never to come apart again. You wanted to spend a million afternoons cooking in that kitchen, running lunches to him at the firehouse, kissing him, laughing with him, indulging in him—in how kind and sweet and good he’d always been.

Your face must have said it all, because Shouto was crowding back into you.

“I am going to be so good to you, Y/N,” he promised, his mouth drawing closer.

You shivered. Some part of you still felt like you needed to resist him, needed to make him see. But the other part of you, the largest part, wanted to melt in his embrace. Wanted to let him kiss you and kiss him back, wanted to thread your fingers in that fluff of hair and sink into the relief of his companionship.

Shouto hammered the final nail into your coffin with the unerring precision of a boy who’d known you for twenty years.

“Trust me to take good care of you,” he said, his voice dipping to a low whisper.

And that was it—the refrain from all those years ago, before you’d ever understood what he was promising you. Even if you were uncertain about everything else, you would always be certain about Shouto’s care. Shouto’s inherent goodness.

Surrendering, you let yourself fall.

“I do,” you told him. “I trust you. I—always will.”

Then you closed your eyes and let him kiss you.

You could feel Shouto’s soft smile against your mouth, feel a renewed intensity in the way he poured himself into you with his next kiss. You almost sagged against him in sheer relief—the relief of knowing, against all odds, that your life mate had found you even across the years that had threatened to separate you.

Shouto kissed you with a startling vigor, leaving you breathless against the willow when he moved down to your neck, pulling your tee shirt wide to suck several very insistent markings into the hollow of your throat.

You leaned into the rough bark as he mapped his way lower, and lower, only startling when he dropped to his knees before you, pressing his face into the crease of your hip.

Your heart shot into your mouth, a shock of heat licking up your spine. “Shouto!” you stammered.

Shouto only uttered your name into the fabric of your leggings, the material thin enough that you could feel the heat of his exhalation on your skin. One of his hands came up to take your calf, the other creeping up into the band of your leggings, carefully pulling it down.

You watched him as he did, stomach fluttering.

He gently helped you step out of your leggings and panties, leaving you bare and vulnerable to him. You would have been more embarrassed if it wasn’t for the way his eyelashes fluttered appreciatively, and the immediate way he ducked his head to press his mouth right to your core.

You muffled a moan into your palm, thunking your head against the tree trunk.

You could feel Shouto’s slow smile as he hefted your thigh over his shoulder, hands grasping your waist. “Mine,” you heard him utter, soft and low, before licking right over you, possessive and deliberate. It made every inch of your skin flush hot, every nerve ending come to life under his mouth.

You could still hardly believe what was happening, even as you muffled more sounds into your palm as Shouto worked you, with the attentive diligence he’d always done everything when it came to you. You could feel those mismatched eyes on you, cataloging your every reaction to what he did.

He learned all too quickly exactly what you liked, and you were a writhing mess within minutes. Shouto pinned you to the tree with an iron arm across your stomach as you arched and screamed, not letting up until you’d come against his mouth, chanting his name like an oath.

He looked very pleased with himself when you were done, his hair ruffled from your hand, face flushed.

He looked too good to be real.

“I want—Shouto, please—” you said, nearly incoherent but apparently utterly shameless now that he’d had you.

Shouto got to his feet to kiss you again and you flushed when you could taste yourself on his mouth. “Come home with me,” he murmured, tone low.

“You don’t want—?” you said.

Shouto shook his head. “Not here. I’ve imagined this a thousand times, how I wanted it to happen. I’ve thought about what you deserve. I’ve thought about how I will not want to separate, after, not even to take you back home. Come home with me first.”

Fire spread across your cheeks at the idea of Shouto imagining it with you, over and over again. The way he said home, like it was both of yours.

“Okay. Okay yes,” you said, breathless.

Shouto helped you back into your leggings and gathered up your abandoned pack, which you’d apparently dropped and forgotten entirely the moment he’d kissed you. He held your hand in his the whole way back through the woods, occasionally cocking his head or scenting the air, and then taking a long detour around some place, like he didn’t want to share your presence with whoever else was in the woods.

The walk was long, but so easy in Shouto’s company, even with this new dimension of your relationship settling itself between you two. It was frighteningly easy, in fact, after everything.

You talked about everything and nothing, reliving the entire week together, Shouto sharing that he’d hoped you’d see him as a man, had taken the time right up until the run to try to be sure. Ears flaming, you’d shared that you’d been gone for him the moment you’d seen him in the doorway of the kitchen. Shouto’s smug look immediately mopped up any of the reflexive embarrassment you felt sharing that.

By the time you made it to Shouto’s you’d also managed to shoot a text off to your mother, and an emergency extension of your time off to your workplace.

Shouto was on you as soon as the door shut behind you, catching your noise of surprise in his mouth.

Your arms came around him, and he walked you back to his couch, following you down onto it and laying himself out over you. The weight of him made you shiver again, the heaviness of all that muscle anchoring you down.

Shouto kissed you absolutely boneless into the cushions of his couch, hands wandering everywhere, skimming under your shirt, calluses catching on the fabric of your leggings. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, your nerves singing with pleasure. Shouto seemed to be trying to take his time with you, but you could sense something underneath that, his usual layers of patience eroded.

Feeling brave, you let your hands wander to the buttons of his pants, working them open. Shouto’s breath left him in a hiss as you wrapped your hand around him, feeling him hard and hot and velvet smooth in your palm.

“Ah… fffuck, love,” he muttered into your neck. He chased it with the soft scrape of his teeth, groaning when it made your grip tighten on him reflexively.

His hips flexed, sliding him through your fingers, flush and full. Butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, and a hot streak of arousal licked up your spine. Your own hips shifted, lifting up into him, and you realized with a sudden desperation that you wanted him inside you, didn’t want to wait another second.

“Shouto please, please, please,” you found yourself babbling, stroking firmly down the shaft of him.

Shouto’s eyes were dark when they found yours again. “Anything, I would give you anything,” he said, his voice tight.

“I want you inside of me, please,” you said, your face burning with the admission.

The sheer elation flashing across his handsome face quelled any more embarrassment. In what felt like barely a breath, Shouto had you bare to him once more, flinging your leggings and shirt somewhere towards his kitchen. He covered you again, fitting himself between your thighs with another appreciative groan before pressing in.

You were so wild with want that he slid home easily, despite his impressive size. His skin burned hot against yours, and he felt so perfectly right over you, inside of you, that you had to fight down something like a sob.

Shouto looked equally as overwhelmed, staring at your face rapturously. “I have loved you my whole life,” he said, his tone wondering. “You are finally mine.”

Your entire body went hot with his declaration. You had not realized until today that you loved him too. But now that you did, it felt like everything made sense, that all was finally right.

You managed to gasp out as much between Shouto’s thrusts, as his hips bucked into yours, slowly at first, and then faster, more sure. He kissed you everywhere—your face, your neck, your shoulders, layering in soft bites like he could not help himself.

“Say it,” he groaned, mouthing at the underside of your jaw. “Please say it.”

“I love you,” you said. A yelp escaped you when Shouto suddenly seized you around the waist, rolling you on top of him and holding you to him as he levered the two of you upright. The position in his lap only made him sink deeper inside of you, and you hissed with the feeling, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Ah, fuck—Shouto!” you cried.

Shouto’s hands on your waist guided you with an easy strength—your head spun with the reminder of his power, the reminder that you had an alpha—your alpha—inside of you.

“Going to take good care of you,” he panted into your hair, pausing to kiss the shell of your ear even as the snap of his hips undid you. “Going to take such good care of you.”

Your fingers flexed on him, and you could feel your toes curl. You did not know what to do with all of the emotion welling up inside you, the well of your pleasure almost overflowing. He ground up into you, making your eyes nearly roll back in your head, and you fought down a scream when the pad of his thumb pressed to your clit, heightening every sensation.

“Oh Shouto, please—” was all you could manage.

Shouto looked enraptured, drinking in every change in your expression. As you squirmed and writhed under his touch, you felt him start to swell inside of you.

Both apprehension and arousal swirled inside of you, a beta’s body a little less adapted to knotting than an omega’s. But the firm circle Shouto’s thumb was drawing on your clit, and the low murmur of his voice in your ear, began to drown out any other thought.

“I have you, love,” Shouto said. His mouth dragged across your throat, leaving a sucking bruise along the column. Your nails scrabbled at his back as he swelled even further inside of you, starting to catch on your walls and make it harder to press back down on him.

“I have you,” Shouto said again, his voice rough with pleasure. The reassurance that he did, and the knowledge that he was barely managing his own pleasure struck you like a bolt of lightning. Something inside you unraveled and came loose, and you muffled a cry into Shouto’s broad shoulder as your orgasm slammed into you like a tidal wave.

A low swear escaped Shouto, and his knot swelled even further. His hands suddenly seized tight on either side of your waist, holding you down on him as he thrust up into you. You felt a sort of pressure you’d never anticipated, so overwhelming it was nearly painful—but then Shouto’s knot slid into you.

Shouto groaned into your neck, biting down hard. You writhed over him, your pleasure wringing you out until finally you slumped against him, shivering. Shouto eased back, propping himself up on the arm of the couch, you stuck to his chest like a sweat-slicked barnacle.

“That was—so much more intense than I ever imagined,” you said, when you’d recovered your faculty for human language.

You could feel the curve of Shouto’s smile against your neck. “For I, as well,” he said. “Though I had imagined it a great many times—we still have many other fantasies I intend to live out.”

You were embarrassed to feel yourself tighten around him. Shouto hissed, leaning back to pin you with a look—then looked more smug than you’d ever seen him.

“Like that, do you, love?” he asked.

The pet name made your ears heat, and you couldn’t help but pinch him. “You used to be so sweet, when did you get this fresh?” you demanded.

“Fresh is the least of what I intend to get with you,” Shouto informed you seriously. “I take my duties as a child bride very seriously.”

Your jaw dropped open, and you pressed back from him, gasping when it shifted him inside you. “You—! You heard—?”

Shouto’s smile was far too handsome and self-satisfied to be allowed. “That is when I knew I stood a chance.”

Your face burned. You couldn’t believe him. “You’re a menace.”

Shouto leaned into a press a kiss over where he’d sunk his teeth into you, butterfly-light. The touch of his mouth was warm and his campfire scent washed over you, fuzzing your thoughts. His mouth moved up to catch yours, and you let him kiss you until you realized you’d started to squirm in his lap again.

Several minutes later he had you coming on his knot again, locked against him and muffling the sounds of your pleasure into his neck.

He looked, if possible, even more satisfied, and you lifted a hand to thread through the strands of his hair, silky and damp.

“I can’t believe this is real,” you said, several orgasms having made you loose-tongued. You rubbed a strand of his hair between the pads of your fingers.

Shouto turned his head to drop a kiss to the base of your palm. “We have time enough to make you believe it, love.”

Another butterfly took wing in your stomach at the pet name. You wondered if you’d ever get used to hearing him say it.

“I’ll have to figure out my work—I don’t know if they’d let me work remotely all the way from here?” you said, thoughts suddenly shifting. You sort of doubted your company would make the exception for you, and a pang shot through your heart at the idea that you might have to leave Shouto to work in the city on weekdays. At least until you found another job, which might take months to arrange.

You did not want to be separated from him, now that you’d let yourself have him.

A hand caught your chin, thumb smoothing along your jaw. “I do not think you will have enough time,” Shouto said, a slim brow raising slightly. “What with the bookstore opening.”

You stared at him, wondering if you’d just had some sort of auditory hallucination.

“The—what?” you asked.

“The bookstore opening,” Shouto said. His mouth made the shape of the words exactly, and so it could not be that you’d hallucinated. But—

“What bookstore?” you asked.

Shouto’s mouth pressed into a deliberately flat line like he was trying not to smile.

“Yours. Downstairs,” he clarified—which did not clarify at all.

Your mouth dropped open against his fingers, your eyebrows shooting for the moon. “My—? Downstairs—?”

Your mind scanned back over the events of the last twenty-four hours, the first time you’d caught sight of the shop downstairs again as you’d followed Shouto home. The way it seemed so well-maintained, the windows glinting crystal-clear in the soft evening light. Your eyes reflexively dipped to the blonde wood of Shouto’s floor, the very same that had been installed across the floor of the shop, and an understanding suddenly dawned on you.

“I remember everything you have ever told me,” Shouto had said when you mentioned you’d been in love with the shop downstairs.

“No way,” was what left your mouth as you glanced back up at Shouto, disbelief rising.

Shouto was watching you carefully, his handsome face serious. “Your name is on the deed.”

A wellspring of emotion rose up inside you like a geyser, and you slammed yourself back into Shouto, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “Shouto—I. You didn’t need to—there’s no way I can accept—this is incredible, you’re incredible—but I’d be taking advantage—I can’t—”

A warm, long-fingered hand slid up your spine to rest on the back of your head, holding you against him. “I have always been yours,” Shouto murmured. “Everything I have has always been yours. If it is too much now, we can wait. But I, and everything I have, will always be yours.”

You blinked, embarrassed to realize you’d started dripping tears into Shouto’s shoulder. Shouto didn’t say anything, fingers petting through your hair as you tried to fight the emotion down.

“I promised to take good care of you, and I intend to,” he said. Pressed against him, you could feel the way the words rumbled in his chest.

You closed your eyes and shoved your face in his neck, letting him hold you to him. Everything about today felt too good to be true, but you knew with absolute certainty that Shouto had always been too good to be true, himself. And yet you’d told him you trusted it, when he said he’d take care of you.

And you did—you realized you would always trust it, trust the beautiful boy you’d known all your life.

“I’ll need to pay you back on your investment,” you said some minutes later, when you finally found your voice again. You leaned back to look Shouto in the face, trying not to be embarrassed about the drying tear tracks.

“There is no need,” he said, eyes finding yours.

You realized you were still in his lap, though his knot had softened, and you thought you might be able to separate now.

But now you had other plans—and an investment you wanted to enthusiastically return.

“I insist,” you said, leaning forward to mouth at Shouto’s neck.

You caught the flash of his eyes widening, and his head fell back as a sharp breath left him. “I—see,” he said, his voice growing rough as you sucked a careful mark into the skin of his shoulder.

You smiled against his skin. “You will,” you promised, feeling bolder than ever. It felt like you were daring to believe it, that you’d found your life mate, that you really got to have him, that he’d loved you as long as he’d lived.

You wanted to return all those years of love, now that you loved him too.

“I’m going to take good care of you too,” you informed Shouto, hips already flexing over his.

You felt him start to grow hard inside of you again, and he turned his head to catch your mouth. You could feel his smile against your lips.

“I trust it,” he said, his voice dropping low.

You smiled too, grinning against your lifemate’s mouth, intent on proving yourself worthy of that trust.

Though perhaps that could wait until you’d delivered some of the many fantasies it sounded like he’d stored up. There was no reason to rush.

You had the rest of your life together, after all.

2K notes · View notes

screampied · 7 months ago

Note

Pls write a Toji fic where at any point he says he fucking loves your pussy 😞 Toji’s dirty talk is just different

toji being obsessed with your pussy ★

cw. fem! reader, brief p in v, degradation, spıt, ōral (f! receiving), overstim, hair pulling, mdni.

it was no secret— toji fushiguro was a nasty man,

the nastiest. especially whenever it came to being propped up between your legs. whether it’s giving you ruthless thrusts to where your toes are all curled up and numb, or . . he’s shoved face first right between your plush thighs. it was hard to differentiate whether his slick mouth or his dick in general was the nastiest of the two. currently, he’d have you sprawled out on the bed. your ankles instinctively lock against his slim waist as he’s pounding into you again and again. “shit, ‘m gonna fill you up again, baby,” he’d groan, grabbing ahold of one of your legs. it dangles as you’re just being fucked stupid. the most doltish expression marinated against your face before he brings your ankle up to his mouth to give it a teasing kiss. “mhm, always know how to take me everytime. wet girl, ‘s fuckin’ sloppy just for me.”

“t- tojiiii,” you’d whine out in pathetic babbles.

due to his thick size and even thicker girth, the stomach seizing that churns all throughout your lower abdomen comes so easily that you’re panting.

hot, parching breaths of airy air aerates out of your sheeny parted lips before he’s balls deep. you’re clenching down onto him tight, gripping him with all your might like a vice and he sucks his teeth from the addictive rapture. leafy, cunning eyes of his stare into you and a hand of his gingerly wraps around your throat. “fuck, f-fuuuck. inside, ‘toj. i can’t take it.”

“course ya can,” he snickers, grinding his beefy body against yours before he sneaks a kiss against your trembling lips. the strong taste of alcohol resides on his tongue and you moan before he precipitously pulls away. “hold onto my arms, sweet girl. ‘s gonna get a bit messy, heh.”

as he continues to mercilessly drill into you—he lets off a four second groan. it’s so low that you can hear the baritone growl from underneath it. it’s sexy. you stare up at him with glossy eyes, the way he elongates the single syllable in such a gruff tone.

it makes you throb, toji’s head throws itself back as he’s starting to flood your womb with such goopy amounts of his cum. it trickles into you in ropes, satiny rich ropes that leave you feeling entirely fulfilled.

fulfilled in a filthy way though,

“. . goddamn,” he huffs as his chest steadily raises in and out. your shaky legs still envelop around his slim waist as he’s pumping you full of cock. the vicious wet squelches that came out of your own cunt was so lewd, he never wants the noise to stop. “such a messy girl. mhmm,” and he slowly pulls his pulsating dick out. gradually, he’s purposely taking his time and smirking at your little irritated whimper. devastatingly enough, your gaping entrance now feels completely empty once he’s not inside of you anymore. all you feel was the freshly soaked viscous wads of seed shoved all inside of your walls. still gushing, he leans down and brings his face right up against your legs. “mine.” he purrs, poking out a single thumb to spread your puffed, swollen lips open. toji happily gawks at the mess he created, you’re still trying to catch your own breath as you’re slumped back against the cushioned bed frame.

it’s so sticky—he flicks his tongue near the right side of his mouth. it swipes against his inclined scar and you can hear his breathy chortle right between your legs.

you knew what that meant,

he wanted more, he was still hungry and he was gonna clean you right up—after all, toji didn’t like putting things to waste. especially if that ‘thing’ was nothing more than his precious cum.

“f- fuck, toji,” you moan, your hips wriggling a bit as he pries your legs apart from each other. as he moves you a bit, you wreathe from his weight thwacking against you. with the way his cum droops out of your fluttering entrance.

oh, it was such a sight to see.

a fat thumb of his goads toward your dampened, oozing slit before he gives your sloppy pussy a single kiss. toji doesn’t even flinch at the taste of himself now starting to go against his tongue.

it’s bitter anyway—barely with a taste to it but with a concoction of your sweet arousal, it tasted appetizing,

you tasted appetizing.

“you’re s-so nasty.” you puff, tugging ahold of his ravened strands. he’s always loved whenever you did that. as he’s still swaying his hips against you, you take it upon yourself to comb a few curling fingers into his rumpled hair. toji simpers, showing you nothing but a sly, hungry gaze. “t- toji, mhm.”

“yeah, girl. duh, nasty just for you though,” he whispers against your pussy. his breath was warm, feverish even. with each movement he moves closer, lolling out his tongue to get a good enough taste, you’re throbbing right in his mouth. your back naturally arches and he hums, slurping in your syrupy fervor. “fuckin’ love this pussy, ‘s sweet. sweet ‘n sloppy. listen to how she tries to give me little back talk, baby.”

and you grow mute—feeling him purse his lips, moving away to only then bring a big hand towards your slick opening. as you’re convulsing time and time again, he slithers two thickset fingers inside of your entrance and you whine. another hand of his starts to give your cunt a few rude spanks. you jolt back, moaning with your exposed breasts harmonizing with your unsteady movements. “ooh,” he snarls, hearing the slosh. it’s so wet, a few spurts of your juices even lands directly underneath his chin. he licks it with his tongue before giving it another spank, and another, and another.

swatting a palm repeatedly against your pussy, you’re continuing to drag and scrape his face closer between your thighs. “like that, huh. fuckin’ messy girl,” and he spanks it again before blowing against it. “my messy girl. my messy pussy.”

and toji starts to make out with your cunt. literally french kisses against it with tongue—his lengthy dark lashes close shut before he latches his lips against your swollen walls, feeling your body twitch in response. “heh,” he exhales deeply before departing his spit-coated lips away. his scar tickling against your entrance and another whine dies out of your throat. “keep this up ‘n ‘m gonna propose to this sloppy cunt, right princess?”

and he’s not even talking to you anymore, nor is he looking at you—he’s talking to your pussy, as if it, could reply.

“exactly,” he jibes, gifting you a final mean spank against your folds before flipping you over. you gasp once he pulls your hips against him. a hand of his squeezes a fat chunk of your ass before he spanks it. the recoil of your ass makes him groan. “mhm, not done though. gimme that arch again baby, bend against me. gonna take my time with you, messy girl.”

4K notes · View notes

occudo · 4 months ago

Text

An incomplete list of TMA fics I adore

-beacuse of this ask

(If you liked the fics I previously recommended/made fanart for, I think you'll gonna like these as well, but you know, read the tags, know what you are going into)

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey @cirrus-grey

Time Travel Fix-it! Slow burn! So good! So much sass from future!Jon- I doubt I have to introduce anyone this amazing author, but if you somehow missed them till now, this is your time! I highly recommend all of their other fics as well, for example one of a more recent one, The Stranger I Know Best is also a lovely read.

enthralling by Prim_the_Amazing @primtheamazing

Vampire!Martin!! I have no words of how much I love this concept, this story, everything about this. I think I'm going to repeat myself through this list, but I also recommend everything else they've written!

to fill... my heart with music? by godshaper @godshaper so their Martin and Jon design are different from mine, also they made a way better art for this- but still, I wanted to include this really good fic in this list.

Do It All Anew by inkfingers_mcgee or @crit20art

You know the feeling when you read a book that makes you cry, and after that you recommend it to your friend? Well- there is no reason I mentioned this, I'm just so normal about this fic. Or any other fic from inkfingers_mcgee... like Strange Manner of what I made another fanart way back. Also, check out their art!

Anyway, here is Aamal- she is not going to cause emotional damage.

And they were sidekicks (oh my god, they were sidekicks) by arthureameslove @arthureameslove

A lighthearted series where Jon and Martin are sidekicks of supervillains- it's just a really fun fic, also recommend everyting from this author - I previously draw fanart here for an other fic of theirs Like a Lighthouse, Call Me Home

neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well by saintbleeding @saintbleeding

To quote the aurthour: "Post-divorce Jon and Martin in a wedding-based romcom" It's such a comfort read, also has a Tim/Sasha wedding, and lots of cameos! I realised most of these authors I made fanarts for before- like this one for some kind of miraculous bind, this one is oneshot and a bit more serious in tone.

Give Me the Words by rakel @rakel-on-ao3

"Jon and Martin try to make the most of a bad situation in the Scottish Highlands. The situation is worse than they realised." You know that one post about wanting to write PWP, but it keeps turning into character study? Well, this one comes to my mind each time I see that.

i wanna find a home (i wanna share it with you) by heartshapedguy @transgenderboobs

So what would have happened if instead of the cot (tm), Jon offered Martin his own flat to stay? There is no way it's going to change their relationship, right? Such a good read, if you want some fluff, I highly recommend it!

Lucky Stars by magnetarmadda @magnetarmadda

Martin has a lovely family (except his mother) but still, he needs a fake boyfriend, and Jon comes to the rescue. It's one of the first fics I remember reading after I finished the series. It is such a comfort read of mine~

(+enjoy a rare tall Jon from me)

There are so many more fics that also deserve the spotlight, these are just the ones I read multiple times and/or didn't made fanarts for before. If you find something here you like, give them some love! Kudos and comments! They deserve it. (Also, just an extra disclamier some of these are PWP or rated T- just mind the tags)

I tried to link and tag everything, I hope it works.

#occudo's art #tma fanart #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #fic rec #so many fic!#thanks for every author who made all of these #and sorry if I forgot to include someone #I tried my best #but sometimes my goldfish memory wins #anyway #good reading!#if you find something here you like give them some love #comments and kudos #long post

2K notes · View notes

3motionally3xhausted · 3 months ago

Text

Redesigning the Fentons!!

Hi yes this is for yet another Danny Phantom AU of mine it has nothing to do with the Apprenticeship AUs but unlike that batch I actually wanna turn this AU into a fic eventually once I get through a few other big projects I have *sobs*

Anyway individual files for each character under the cut along with my obligatory rambling about all the choices I made ;)

Jazz! Honestly, when I was a kid, I always thought she was 18 not 16 so it was kind of a shock when I started rewatching the show about a yr ago and heard that. Anyway, she's 17 in this AU but already moved out to college on a scholarship bc living in FentonWorks is kind of hell and she has that Older Sibling Guilt for leaving Danny there. For her clothes, I wanted it to be a mix of tactical and preppy.

Danny! (Fenton) The effects of FentonWorks hell is much more visible on Danny than Jazz because she got out of there as soon as she could. Because of that though, a lot of the chores in the lab got pushed onto Danny, without passing on many safety tips, like replacing the ecto-filtrator, cleaning contaminated tools, organizing ecto-weapons, etc. And because he doesn't know any better when it comes to safety, he has many symptoms of radiation poisoning: visually, this comes through in the discoloration/scarring on his skin (Jazz has some slight scarring on her face and hands as well), the cataract on his left eye, as well as burst blood vessels in that eye. For his clothes, I wanted them to look a bit ragged and worn through ripped seams, tears in the jeans, & duct tape around his shoe.

Danny! (Phantom) I don't actually have a lot to SAY about my choics, but I am really happy with it. There are still a few things. I wanted his hair as Fenton & Phantom to be different but still reminiscent of the simplistic rendering of the original show: Fenton is kind of timid so his hair falls over his face, & Phantom is more active/aggressive so his hair is pushed upward. The only other thing I want to comment on is his skin: it's kind of about how I usually stylize Phantom (and I mentioned this when I redesigned Dani a while back) but a "healthy" Phantom in my style would have more bright cyan skin and an unhealthy Phantom has a more dull/zombie green. And lastly, as a ghost, the radiation poisoning kind of cleans up into more neat scarring rather than the muddy/bleeding look as Fenton.

Maddie! Now, I'm gonna be honest, real vulnerable here,... I hate Maddie's canon haircut. It's ugly, I'm not sorry. But I can modify it, so it's fine: now it's curlier, a bit darker, and has a few grey streaks bc she's a genius and constantly pulling long working hours. And, it didn't come across as much as I wanted, but she's got some biceps, strong lady. Now, I'm not really sure why, but I wanted to shift the color of her and Jack's jumpsuit, making hers much more desaturated.

Jack! Big guy. I don't have many thoughts about him either, but I did give him glasses and some stubble for a little bit more dad energy (?) I mainly changed the color of his jumpsuit bc Orange is an extremely hard color for me to render for some reason, so now it's the classic Hazard Yellow. Finally, the most notable difference is the coat I put on him for a bit more scientist energy but my main reasoning for it is the potential visual of him being an absolute tank jumping from overhead with the ghost gauntlets and his coat flapping behind him. Also, I generally like the idea of him presenting himself as a big, dumb teddy-bear, always smiling, but completely unhinged below that facade: dropping the smile or not while towering over you in shadow. Wild imagery.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Do not count on any actual steps towards creating this fic in the near future, it's just on my mind right now, but I NEED to finish my other projects first 🙏🙏🙏 That said, I will (eventually) get around to a handful more character redesigns for this AU including: Vlad, Sam, Tucker, Valerie, Paulina, and maybe Lancer & Dash

#danny phantom #fanart #my art #33xhausted art #character redesign #Radiation!AU #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton #danny fenton #bad parenting

2K notes · View notes

sourcherryandsprinkles · 5 months ago

Note

I was wondering if you could do a fic where the reader is pregnant with Aegons baby but when he usurps the throne she and Jace pretend the baby is his so she doesn’t have to face consequences for sleeping with Aegon 🫶🏼

I'm back from my trip and back to writing/posting!! I hope you enjoyed the requests I had queued while I was away

Warnings: mention of pregnancy

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Standing in your nightgown, you looked down where your belly would swell very soon, your hand covering the slightest curve. A babe was growing there. A little babe with white hair and dark eyes, like the one in your dream. A perfect mix of you and Aegon.

You’ve known for two moons that you were with child, but had not been able to tell anyone. When your bloodmoon was late, you thought of going to King’s Landing and tell Aegon in person, but the King drew his last breath and the Greens usurped your mother’s throne before you could get on your dragon.

You’ve been hiding your secret under your clothes, but your belly was starting to grow and show through your looser dresses. You could no longer keep your pregnancy a secret.

The issue was, you could not tell Aegon. The Greens would make the babe a part of the war and tell their supporters that Rhaenyra was keeping Aegon from his child, and you didn’t wish that. You wanted this unborn babe to be safe.

So you told Jacaerys.

There is nothing Jacaerys would not do to protect his twin sister. He would throw himself in front of a fire to shield you and commit war crimes for you.

You jumped when you heard another knock on your door, immediately removing your hand from your belly. You assumed it was one of the servants asking if you wanted your evening meal brought up to your chamber, but the knock was different. Special.

‘’Come.’’ You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, erasing all traces of tears.

The door opened and Jacaerys stepped in, dressed in his riding gear. You could smell the dragon from across the room, meaning he must have been in Vermax’s company.

‘’Have you spoken to Mother about my plan?’’ he asked after closing the door. ‘’I know we said we would never wed each other, but I see no other option than to claim the babe as mine.’’

As he spoke of the babe in your belly, your hand fell to protectively lay over your stomach as it was before Jacaerys came in. You shook your head, and he noticed the tear stains on your face and the signs or irritation around your eyes.

A pained look crossed his face. ‘’Have you been crying?’’

You turned your head away from him, confirming his guess.

‘’Sister...’’ His voice was gentle as he stepped forward, a soft hand being placed over your hip, but you shrugged him off, refusing to look him in the face. ‘’I promised I would protect you and the babe. You need not to worry anymore.’’

You shake your head, the tears already welling in your eyes again. ‘’What if the babe has white hair? How will we explain that to the realm, Jace?’’

‘’We’ll say nothing. Like Mother did when we came out of her womb with dark hair,’’ he replied.

‘’I refuse for my child to have their legitimacy put into question and live through the same accusations we went through as children.’’

Your little affair with Aegon was a secret to most. All thought that you were just close, not close. If a babe with white hair came out of your womb, Alicent will know. She will either request Aegon to claim the bastard child or have the babe slain so, in case it was a boy, you would not try to claim the throne.

You felt sick at the thought of the latter. Aegon would never allow the death of his child. He loved you.

Jacaerys pulled you into an embrace, no words coming out of his mouth. He let you bury your head in his shoulder and silently cry for as long as you needed.

‘’I won’t let it happen,’’ he assured, feeling the soft curve of your belly pressing against his stomach. ‘’No matter what anyone says or does, I promise I will always be by your side, raising, loving and defending this babe as strongly as I would defend you. I will never allow anyone to harm him or her.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios@shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago @nhlfs

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #house targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd

1K notes · View notes

chloe-petrichors · 5 months ago

Text

cradling constellations // jace x reader

when rhaenyra brings her family to court to celebrate the king's fiftieth name day, there was but one thing on your mind: getting to see jace, the boy you'd loved in secret, once more.

whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. —emily brontë

fandom; house of the dragon pairing; jacaerys velaryon x f!aunt!reader (no use of y/n) warnings; canon-typical incest, canon-au (it's viserys' birthday party baby), altered timeline (jace and reader are in their 20s) idiots in love, instant attraction/love at first (second) sight, childhood sweethearts (kinda?), soulmate vibes, love confessions, switching povs, smut (mdni !) including masturbation (m), p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), implied loss of virginity, unprotected sex, mild marriage kink if that’s even a thing, body worship, dirty talk, praise kink, multiple orgasms, mild overstimulation, soft dom vibes, jace being a tits man. word count; 15k+ (oops) notes; me, obsessed with jace? more likely than u think. this whole fic spawned from the fact that i noticed jace's freckles on a gif and lost my gd mind. this was meant to be a quick smut fic. and then i took 11k+ words to get to the smut part. i'm sorry (i'm not). this is totally self-indulgent, soulmates, love at first sight kinda fluff-to-smut and i regret nothing. way too much time of writing this was me trawling through the asoiaf wiki pages to find details that are relevant for one whole sentence. why am i this way. valyrian is pulled straight from a translator i found online, pls let me know if you notice any errors! requests; are open !

the first time you laid eyes on jacaerys velaryon, you knew he was something special.

you had just been children, then, uncertain of each other due to the discontent between your families. but he had been kind to you, dark eyes warm, and it had been an easy thing to be kind in return. your brothers make it difficult, of course, as they seem to do with everything they get involved in. aegon had been the worst at first, spouting off the same vitriol your mother had always whispered into your ears, but aemond had not been far behind him.

after the events of laena’s funeral and the loss of aemond’s eye, the hostilities only grow and grow. helaena keeps herself apart from most of it by virtue of her typically distant manner, but your brothers insist on drawing you into the same arguments again and again. it's tedious, laborious, but they are your family.

jace and luke are too, of course, not that anyone else seems to want to admit it. for all that they are velaryon’s by name (and strong in heart, mayhaps, yes), they are your nephews. your brothers only seem interested in remembering this when it serves them, however — which is usually when they’re lording it over the dark-haired boys.

in truth, the velaryon’s are hardly innocent either. it seems like the two sets of boys bring out the absolute worse in each other without fail, and it’s usually left to you to try and be the voice of reason.

away from your brothers’ taunts, jace is like a different boy entirely. endlessly curious and ceaselessly kind, the brunette seems to always have time to talk and jape with you. your friendship grows surprisingly easy as children, and with early adulthood comes the bloom of a different kind of affection, too. you never say anything, knowing all too well that if your brothers catch even a whisper of your feelings that there will be no end of hells to pay.

it matters little, regardless. your mother will never tolerate a betrothal between the two of you and you know better than to even attempt to broach such a topic. it had been sheer miracle that she hadn’t tried marrying you off to aemond after securing aegon and helaena’s marriage, and you aren’t willing to tempt fate by giving her ideas now. so what if you spend countless nights dreaming of freckled skin and dark hair? it matters not in the scheme of things.

rhaenyra flees kings landing after daemon’s return to westeros, leaving you feeling strangely bereft without your nephews’ company. years go by with no contact from your sister’s family, and so you let your old daydreams fall to the wayside. there’s no use dwelling on what you can’t have, and no point bringing it up since even now just a mention of luke or jace is enough to inflame aemond’s temper.

and then, of course, the news comes that rhaenyra is returning to court for the king’s fiftieth name day. there are great feasts and celebrations planned in honour of your father, which you privately think silly considering it’s unlikely he would be well enough to attend half the festivities. still, there’s no denying your excitement at the idea of seeing jace again. he would be a man grown, now, his twentieth name day having passed only a few moons ago.

for once the majority of your family will be under one roof, and you are certain it will end in disaster — but you intend to enjoy it while you can.

going flying the morning of the velaryons arrival is perhaps not your smartest idea.

your nerves wake you well before dawn. you feel as if you’re going to crawl out of your skin if you don’t do something, and you know your chances for flying will be limited with the celebrations expected to start tomorrow. so you decided to take the chance while you can, dressing quickly in your riding gear before creeping to the dragon pit well before any of your family wake.

silverwing likes it when you take her for unexpected flights, so she makes no complaint when you have the dragon keepers release her. you go through the motions of saddling her yourself, as you always do, taking the chance to reinforce the bond with your dragon.

silverwing hadn’t been your hatched dragon. the egg that you had slept beside as a babe had never hatched, just as aemond’s and helaena’s hadn’t. it had infuriated aemond when you were children, that jace and luke’s dragons hatched while he was left without. it had made him an easy target for the other boys; aegon had often led the others in riling him about his lack of dragon until he had claimed vhagar. you can admit now that the others had oft been cruel to him in their japing, and it had ended poorly for everyone involved.

your claiming of silverwing had been incredibly boring in comparison. she had found you, in truth, a year after aemond claimed vhagar. she’d been your great-grandmother the good queen alysanne’s dragon before your own, and had not taken a rider since the queen’s death. she’d flown from the dragonmont to find you, and you’ve been nigh on inseparable since. your mother despairs over it, hating how her often her ‘perfect daughter’ has shown up to court late with windswept hair and flushed cheeks.

but, to you, flying is freedom.

there’s nothing else like it in the world; the sensation of silverwing beneath you, the seven kingdoms at your fingertips, and only the sky above. your mother has never really let go of her fear of the dragons, and you can understand it in a way; she is no targaryen, and she’ll never know what it is to bond with a dragon, to have that presence so alien and yet so familiar nudging against the corners of your mind. any attempts to explain it to her are met with bemusement and wariness, and you’d long ago learned to stop bringing it up.

silverwing’s joy to fly merges into your own as you climb atop her, running a soothing hand over the gleaming silver spikes at her neck as you adjust the straps. her impatience thrums loudly through the bond as you settle yourself into the saddle, and you feel her heart beat through you like a second pulse as your own anticipation rises.

“ivestragī īlva sōvegon, ñuha raqiros! [let us fly, my friend!]”

she needs no further nudging than that, and with a delighted roar she launches into the air. your laughter is stolen by the wind as she beats her wings, propelling you higher and higher before sweeping over the towering peaks of the red keep. with a shouted instruction she banks sharply to the left, flying out over blackwater bay as the sun finally crests the horizon. the dark sea lights up with reds and golds beneath you, the sky gloriously blue above, and silverwing’s distinctive scales shine in the breaking dawn.

a glorious morning, you think, and as the two of you climb higher to the sky you feel all your nerves and excitement for anything but the flight leave you. this is what your mother will never understand; flying is an escape, yes, but not from your duties as she assumes it is. this is an escape from your worries, from the petty machinations of court. in the sky with your dragon, you need worry only about how chill the wind will be, or if aemond is out with vhagar, who’s a grumpy old beast at the best of times and silverwing is feeling mischievous.

you find peace, here, in the sky. this is what you were born for.

long minutes pass as you fly leisurely, circling over the bay and the keep and back again in ever widening circles. sometimes silverwing dives just to do so, plunging so close to the blackwater that you could reach out and skim your hand over the dark depths. you lose track of time as the two of you fly, contentment bleeding across the bond so completely you can’t even tell which one of you it’s coming from.

a dragon’s cry in the distance catches your attention, and silverwing pulls up from where she’d been ducking her head into the water to snatch fish. she propels you rapidly higher into the air, crying out in response as you break through the thin cloud cover. you expect to find aegon’s dragon; sunfyre is the only dragon silverwing likes, rather than tolerates, to be making such a noise in greeting.

but it’s an unfamiliar dragon that greets you, olive green scales shining with the damp from the high altitudes. your mind races as you struggle to place it, and it’s only when you catch sight of a head of dark curls astride the dragon that you realise who it is.

vermax.

and jacaerys.

your heart skips in your chest, silverwing’s unexpected excitement tangling with your own nerves as she swoops towards the much smaller dragon. it’s only her sheer happiness that stops you from panicking or shouting a command to halt in valyrian, and moments later you recall she’d have known vermax from her time on dragonstone.

she somersaults over and around vermax playfully, and you release an exhilarated laugh in response as you cling tightly to the saddle. you see only snatches of jace as your dragons fly complicated patterns around each other, but the quick flashes you do get find an easy smile on his face.

the dragons spend a long while flying together, racing and diving and spiralling to new heights. they move so quickly that you have no chance to try and greet jacaerys, can offer nothing more than quick smiles as you pass him. it gives you the time for your nerves to settle back down, time to reassure yourself that any childhood feelings are long faded and that you will be able to act perfectly composed when it is time to greet him.

eventually you realise your dragon is not going to land until you tell her too, and vermax is clearly just as willing to chase after the larger she-dragon for as long as she is willing to be chased.

“māzigon, silverwing. istiti tegun [come, silverwing. we must land],” you shout, laughing again when the dragon whines her displeasure. she listens regardless, soaring down in tightening circles with vermax following close on your tail. her landing in the dragon pit is far from smooth, but you’re well used to compensating for the jostling as she settles onto the ground once more.

you’re quick in freeing yourself from the saddle, murmuring warm thanks and praise to your dragon as you walk to the side of her great head to meet a single burning eye. “kirimvose, ñuha raqiros. kesi sōvegon arlī aderī [thank you, my friend. we will fly again soon],” you tell her, and she responds with a content grumble as she nudges her head gently against your chest in affection.

you leave the dragon keepers to return her to her cave, instead turning to watch as jace shares his own goodbyes with his dragon. you take the chance to look at him, properly look, and find yourself suddenly warring with self-consciousness and a burning in your chest.

despite the acrobatics of the dragons, he looks perfectly put together with his dark curls brushing his shoulders and a pleasing tan to his skin. you fear you must look a ruin, with your hair undoubtedly a mess and cheeks flushed from the cold bite of the wind. your breath is still a touch laboured from the exertion of the flight, while he looks perfectly composed in his fancy black and red doublet. you curse the old gods and the new that you’d picked out your old riding gear this morning — comfortable, yes, but certainly not ideal for greeting the heir to the heir and the man you’d once daydreamed about marrying.

you push the thoughts away with determined stubbornness, refusing to dwell on the warmth in your chest when jace finally turns to look at you. he’s grown, you note immediately, now standing at least a head taller than you. any traces of baby fat have left him, leaving behind a strong, square jaw and strong yet slim shoulders. his dark eyes are warm, though, and his smile friendly as he takes you in.

you dip instinctually into a curtsey, a perfectly respectable greeting ready on your lips, but you’re startled into straightening back to standing when jace laughs.

“come now, princess,” he says, fond and teasing he approaches you. he’s the only one who’s ever been able to make the title sound more like an endearment. “since when have we been ones for formality?”

it sets you at ease immediately, tension relaxing from your shoulders as you beam at him. “i suppose we never have been very good at that, have we?” you let your eyes skip over him again, something like relief settling in your bones at the sight of him. “it’s good to see you again, jace.”

“aye,” he returns, dark eyes sparkling. “it is good to see you, indeed.”

for a long moment he simply looks at you, and it makes that peculiar warmth in your chest blaze a little brighter. there’s something in his face that you’ve never seen there before — but then you think of course there is. you haven’t seen him in so long there’s probably all kinds of things about you him you no longer know. it aches, almost, to think it, but in a way he’s a stranger to you; a man with the kind eyes of the boy you’d loved in secret, once.

you clear your throat as you drop your eyes from his stare, glancing at the bustling keepers as they tend to your dragons instead as you cast about for something to say.

“are the rest of your family not flying in?” you query after a moment.

he shakes his head, dark curls swaying with the movement. “no, arrax and tyraxes are still too small to fly luke and joff for such a journey, and mother would rather stay with my brothers on the ship.”

you nod in acceptance, shifting slightly on the spot. “well then, let me be the first to welcome you back to king’s landing, my prince.” you take the formality out of your tone with a playful wink, and are gratified to see the way he chuckles at your antics.

“i had hoped you’d be the first i’d see.” he admits this casually, as if this doesn’t set your heart and mind racing. “i have missed you, aunt.”

you duck your head again to try and hide the smile spreading across your face. you tell yourself sternly to stop acting like some lovesick child, all the while that small flame continues to burn away inside of you. “and i you, nephew.” you glance up at him shyly from beneath your lashes, teeth worrying at your bottom lip, and you don’t miss the way his eyes track the movement.

he’s the one to clear his throat, this time, stepping a half-pace away from you and gesturing for you to proceed him. “shall we head to the keep, then? my mother’s ship should have arrived by now and we wouldn’t want to miss the formal welcome.”

“as you say,” you agree, and the two of you set off.

you spend the long walk to the keep catching up on the long years between you. you’d expected the time apart to be like a gulf between you, a canyon that could not be crossed, but if anything it’s the opposite. it’s as if you’d last seen each other only hours ago. it should startle you, how simple it feels to fall into your old friendship, but you don’t have it in you to be surprised. that’s always been the thing with jace, after all — it’s easy. being around him, speaking to him, listening to his odd tangents. it all comes as natural to you as breathing, as if there’s a part of you that was just born knowing him.

he's dodging your questions as you finally arrive at the keep, having let slip something about an old secret from the days of your childhood that he’s never shared with you. it makes something flutter in your chest, the way he looks at you as he says it. the way he’s looked at you the whole time, in fact, has you having to bite back a smile. he looks at you as if he is looking at something precious, expression tender and fond and uncomplicated. it threatens to steal your breath again, and so you make an effort to try and act as unaffected as possible, because he cannot mean it in the way you think you might want him too.

“oh, but you simply must tell me!” you wheedle cheerfully, a mischievous smile on your lips. “you wouldn’t keep a secret from me, would you, my prince?”

you pout at him, fluttering your lashes in the way you usually do when trying to get your way with your brothers. jace swallows audibly at the sight, some emotion you can’t read flickering across his eyes as his gaze drops to your mouth and then lower again before returning to your eyes. something in his expression makes you flush, cheeks burning as your lips part slowly. a heat rises in you, unbidden, as he steps ever so slightly closer into your space. you’re overwhelmed with the smell of him; sea salt and dragon smoke and something almost woodsy underneath it, something entirely jace.

he murmurs your name so quietly you almost miss it over the sounds of courtyard. his hand twitches as if to reach for you as he ducks his head slightly, and you think if you lifted yours just so you’d be able to brush your lips over the strong line of his jaw. you realise suddenly how much you want to — how much you want to drag your tongue over his skin and taste.

oh.

you want him. that peculiar feeling that had been burning in your chest — you recognise the desire for what it is, now. the easy camaraderie that you’d fell into on the walk to the keep subsides in the wake of it, and abruptly all you can think of is what his mouth will feel like on your own. the palpable tension between you makes your hands tremble with the urge to touch, heart pounding so loudly in your ears it drowns out anything that isn’t him as the rest of the courtyard fades away.

you sway the barest inch closer, inhaling his scent deeply, and watch as jace’s nostrils flare in response. with a shaky breath you lift your chin, eyes dropping to his parted lips, and you bite your bottom lip as his tongue sweeps over his own.

“jace…”

“brother! there you are!”

luke’s voice startles you both back to reality as you spring apart. you hadn’t realised just how close you’d gotten, your chests almost brushing with every breath, until the gap between you widens. you drop your eyes to your feet, cheeks blazing with embarrassment as you realise how close you’d come to kissing him in an extremely public place. you chide yourself internally for forgetting yourself, and take another second to gather your composure before lifting your head with a smile.

“hello, nephew,” you greet luke warmly, doing your best to ignore the way jace’s eyes burns into the side of your face. “it is very good to see you again.”

“aunt!” luke fairly cheers, and you note how the youth still clings to his face. while certainly older than the last time you’d seen him, he still seems like a child to you. his limbs are long and gangly, in that awkward stage at the cusp of adulthood where he’s not quite grown into himself yet. he bounds closer, drawing you into a hug that you allow and return with a fond laugh.

“luke, honestly,” jace tuts, shaking his head as the two of you separate. “we’re at court, now. at least try to remember your manners.”

the younger boy winces. “ah, right, yes.” he sketches a quick but perfect bow your way. “it is a great honour to see you once more, princess.” he flashes a cheeky smile and a wink your way as he straightens out, and you press your hand to your mouth to smother a giggle at the exasperated look on jace’s face at his brother’s antics. he’s hardly one to talk, you think, considering how quickly he had dispensed with manners when greeting you.

in return, you dip into a practiced if impish curtsey. “it is a sincere pleasure to see you as well, prince lucerys.”

luke does giggle, then, as jace rolls his eyes so hard you think they’re at risk of falling out of his head. despite his dramatics, you spot the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as he watches you jape with his brother.

“the queen is looking for you, dear aunt,” luke says after the greetings are done, and your amusement flees you as your stomach drops.

it’s only then you realise that with both luke and jace being here, you’ve certainly missed the official welcome of princess rhaenyra back to court. you wince at the thought of your mother’s ire, resigning yourself to a long lecture about your responsibilities and how dragon riding is ‘not one of them’. jace catches your expression, concern creasing his face as his brows furrow.

“alright?” he checks, and you do your best to offer him a reassuring smile.

“yes, i’m sure all will be well.” you hesitate a moment before offering a one-shouldered shrug, ignoring the voice in your head that sounds far too much like your mother telling you how unladylike such a motion is. “i expect my mother will be displeased with me for missing the official welcome, but the festivities will surely distract her quick enough.”

luke and jace both offer you a commiserating smile as the three of you head into the keep. you expect your mother will be waiting in her solar, which is on a close route to the guest suites set aside for the visiting royals, and so you walk with the velaryons as far as you can. when it comes time to part, jace lingers at the entry of the hall as luke continues down the corridor. his dark eyes are fixed to yours so intensely it steals your breath as you slow to a stop as well.

“i’ll see you at the feast,” he says quietly, capturing your hand in his much larger one and bringing it to his mouth. your breath hitches in your chest, eyes widening as he brushes his lips tenderly over your knuckles. your lips part in surprise, tingles racing up your arm from where his mouth makes contact with your skin. before you have chance to respond, jace dips into a sweeping bow and then bids you farewell, leaving you staring after him for a long moment.

well. if your mother doesn’t kill you, you think jace certainly will.

jace sinks into the hot water of the bath with a deep sigh of relief.

after meeting with his mother to explain why he’d been late to the formal greetings — or, rather, offer excuses as to why he’d been late, since he doesn’t think his mother will take well to the idea he was so busy enjoying himself flying with you that the thought of any formal welcome party left his mind entirely — he’d sought his chambers. the bath had been ready and waiting for him, tendrils of steam wafting from the clear water, and he’d wasted no time in shedding his clothes. he’s keen to wash the dragon stink from his skin before the feast, and he makes quick work of scrubbing his skin clean. when he’s done, he allows himself to relax against the metal of the tub, arms draped carelessly over the metal rim as he soaks.

king’s landing from dragonstone is not too long a journey on dragon back, but flying for such a stretch causes its own particular aches. vermax had enjoyed the chance to stretch his wings, at least, and had enjoyed the playful flight with silverwing even more.

he can admit to himself he’d enjoyed it, too, the sight of you astride your dragon lighting something within him. it’s been so long since he’d seen you, not since the aftermath of laena’s funeral, and he hadn’t been prepared for how the sight of you — breathless and flush and beaming at him — would make him feel. he’d almost managed to push back his boyhood adoration and childhood daydreams of marrying you one day with the years passing, but seeing you again brings it all rushing back and he feels as hopelessly enamoured with you now as he did as a child.

you’ve grown well, there’s no denying that. where childhood had left you sometimes awkward and gangly, you’ve become a woman grown now with all the curves and delights that come with it. he’d been embarrassed at how hard it had been to pull his gaze from you on the trip to the keep, but you’d not seemed to notice. too occupied with filling the air between you with light chatter, you’d been oblivious to the way his eyes had dragged over your form again and again.

you just — you’re so unlike anyone else he knows. he’d let himself forget how lovely you were, but there was no way to ignore it now. riding the high of your flight and genuinely happy to see him, you’d been like something out of a dream. your face had been as open to him as ever, plainly delighted to see him, and seeing you had eased some ache he’d become so used to he’d not even know it was there until he felt the lack of it.

he’s not some foolish child. he knows better than to think of things like love when his head must lie with his duty. but the thought remains regardless, lingering in the back of his mind that you would be as easy to love now as you had been when you were younger. it had been a childish love then, of course; innocent and sweet in the ways only children could be. but it had been there, unspoken and unacted upon, but no less real for it.

you’re not children anymore. it would be impossible to think otherwise with the way your riding gear had clung flatteringly to your chest and hips. your mouth looked so pretty stretched into a smile, a smile for him, and he thinks it’s a testament to his restraint that he’d not kissed you on the spot when you’d pouted so prettily up at him. he’d thought for a fleeting moment that perhaps you were going to kiss him with the way your eyes had darkened, how you’d gravitated into his space as if without intention.

heat pools in his stomach as he thinks about how the neckline of your riding dress had cut low enough to allow him a peak at your chest, heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. he wonders what your mouth would taste like, what noises you would make if he’d slid his tongue against your own. gods, he feels like a green boy seeing a woman for the first time — almost undone at just the thought of you. he won’t be able to get through the welcome feast like this, he thinks, so on edge with his lust for you burning him from the inside out.

it’s not even a conscious choice to curl his fingers around his cock, half-hard already as he thinks of you. jace’s head tips back against the rim of the bath, eyes drifting closed as a quiet gasp escapes him. the warm water eases his way as he strokes himself, and he lets himself imagine it’s your slick, instead.

he pictures you before him, pretends it’s your hand teasing at the skin at the head of his cock. your hands are so small, so dainty, he thinks you probably wouldn’t be able to wrap them all the way around him. he imagines they’re a little calloused — soft, mostly, but with the fingertips just rough enough from years spent riding and caring for your dragon. they’d drag so deliciously against his skin, and you’d take to the task with the same voracious enthusiasm you do with everything else. you’d watch him closely, pick up on the cues of his pleasure, and he’d unravel for you so quickly it’d be embarrassing if it was anyone else.

“fuck,” he hisses out, thumb dragging over the liquid leaking copiously from his tip. his head tips back even further, water dripping from his curls onto the stone floor as he chases his release. his imagining splinters into disconnected fantasies; you, on your knees with your mouth stretched around him, lashes damp with reflexive tears as your eyes fix on his. you, sprawled beneath him and writhing as he feasts on your cunt like a man starved. you, babbling in high valyrian as he sinks into the tight wet heat of you. you, clenching and shuddering around his cock as you come for him, blazing and beautiful. you, you, you.

his release hits him hard, a low groan tearing from his throat as his hips thrust up into his hand as he drags out those last few moments of pleasure. his panting breaths sound loud in the silence of his chambers, and jace is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he is alone. there is, of course, no trace of you.

he knows in that moment he has to have you. he cannot tolerate the thought of anyone else — not for himself, and certainly not for you. he wants you as his wife, his queen, the mother of his children. jace doesn’t care how he must do it — as long as you’re as willing as he is, he is going to make you his.

the feast has started by the time jace arrives.

his indulgence had cost him time, and then he’d spent longer than usual readying himself while trying to ignore the fact he was doing so only to impress you. by the time he makes it to the hall his family are already seated and the minstrels are playing a jaunty tune. his eyes seek you instantly, and he resists the urge to frown in disappointment as he sees you sat between helaena and aemond. he’d hoped to sit beside you and use this time to see if there was any hint of you returning his feelings. no matter — there would be time enough later. if he has his way, there’ll be all the time in the world.

you look beautiful, he notes. you’re dressed in your usual deep green, the gown cut flatteringly for your shape. your face is animated and happy as you chat to aemond, and though he finds the idea of anyone enjoying that grumpy prick’s presence bizarre, he enjoys the sight of you so at ease.

as he approaches the head table and the empty seat between his mother and luke, your eyes linger on him. he’s gratified by the way you light up when you spot him, offering him a warm smile in welcome for all that you’re quickly entangled into a conversation with your sister. it eases some of the sting at finding you unavailable, and he’s helpless but to smile back at you even when your gaze slides back to helaena.

luke eyes him strangely as he settles into his seat but says nothing as jace reaches for a goblet of wine. his mother greets him absently, entangled as she is in conversation with the king, and he takes the moment to glance out at the hall.

it’s a relatively small feast. large enough to not cause offence to the heir to the throne, but not so grand as to detract from the festivities planned for the next fortnight. he recognises a few faces in the crowd, people from different houses from across the kingdoms. the king’s birthday celebrations are no small affair, and he spots representatives from all the great houses as well as some of the more minor ones.

it makes him want to slump in his seat, for all that he keeps his posture straight. he knows the next few weeks will be full of politicking and double speak, and it grates. as the heir to the heir, jace knows it’s partially his responsibility to ensure their alliances still stand while seeking out any news one that might present themselves. he has no doubt that some of the lords in this crowd will have brought their daughters, planning to parade them in front of him and his brothers in hopes they might pick one as their betrothed.

his lack of betrothal has been a point of contention for many of the court, he knows. most had assumed he would be betrothed to his stepsister baela, and he’d thought the same for years. it was only when his mother had confided that baela had no interest in being queen and, in fact, was so strongly opposed to the idea that she swore to fly to essos and never be seen again if they tried marrying her to him that he realised just why such a betrothal had never been announced.

it had left him free, in a way, to pursue his own desires; without a betrothal attached to him he’d shed any guilt about seeking company at the pleasure houses. but, in turn, it had left him open to the machinations of the other houses who all sought to have their blood on the iron throne. it’s incredibly tedious, but he knows he must grin and bear it for the sake of his mother and his house.

the food arrives then, and he busies himself with the meal and talking to his siblings. his grandsire makes a speech welcoming his daughter and her family home, and jace notes the sour faces of alicent’s sons. they keep their tongues, at least, which shows a maturity from them he truthfully hadn’t expected. perhaps they’ve grown just as you have, he thinks, but dismisses the thought when aemond catches his eye and only sneers in response to jace’s tentative smile.

he's often wondered at the conflict between the two sides of the family. the animosity now he can pinpoint, of course; aemond losing his eye. but there had been years before that of tense, standoffish behaviour interspersed with camaraderie when everyone seemed to forget they weren’t meant to be friends. he remembers playing pranks with aegon while luke trailed after them, and he remembers sitting with helaena while she perused the dirt for bugs.

he remembers you, most of all. kind and fearless and smart, you’d enamoured him from the moment he was old enough to recognise girls were different to boys in interesting ways. even before then you’d been fast friends, something in your similarly mischievous behaviour drawing you into each other’s orbit. he’s always been drawn to you, he thinks, to the uncomplicated joy you took in your life. there was so much to be miserable about, so much duty on all your shoulders, but you always found something to smile over. your unfailing optimism would no doubt be irritating to some, but to him it has always been one of his favourite things about you.

his gaze, predictably, shifts to you. he startles to find you looking at him already. you flush immediately as your eyes lock, presumably embarrassed at being caught, and he enjoys the colour it brings to your cheeks. you don’t drop his stare, though, not until helaena says something to draw your attention back to her once again. he catches sight of a private little quirk of your lips as your head turns, and something like satisfaction settles in his chest as he hides his own smile in his goblet.

perhaps this feast won’t be as tedious as he’d feared.

“are you enjoying the festivities, princess?”

jace’s voice pulls you from where you’ve been staring into your wine as if it holds all the secrets of the world. you’ve lost count of how many goblets you’ve had, chattering away with your siblings before aegon had started to become cruel in his inebriation and you’d all opted to split apart through the hall. you glance up to find the velaryon prince standing before you, hands perched loosely on the hilt of his sword. he looks unfairly handsome, you think, with his tumble of curls and well-fitted doublet, and something about the slight smirk on his face makes you think he knows it.

“i am enjoying them well enough,” you allow, flicking your gaze from his to look out at the dance floor. aemond is dancing with helaena, aegon far too deep into his cups to bother thinking of his wife. your mother is as tense as she has been since you’d found her earlier; her stepdaughter’s arrival to court has set her incredibly on edge, and the lecture she’d given you earlier had certainly been one of her worst. and your father is oblivious to it all, simply too pleased at the presence of his favoured daughter to care about the way the rest of his family are fracturing apart.

he's not been a good father to you, the king. he’s called you and helaena rhaenyra more than once over the years, and even when his eyes are you on you, you never feel like it’s you he sees. your mother had tried to soothe the ache of his absence, of his blatant favour for a woman who was not here, but as the years stretched on even she had seemed to fade further and further away from you all. for so long it’s just been the four of you, clinging to each other and tearing each other apart in equal measure. you’ve oft thought that daeron is the luckiest of you, able to thrive at the hightower and away from the mess of your family.

you pause at the maudlin turn of your thoughts, peering contemplatively into your wine again before offering jace a slightly sheepish smile. “i… fear i may have indulged in too much wine,” you admit, startling a laugh from the darkhaired prince.

it’s aegon’s fault, you decide; before he’d gotten belligerently drunk he’d been so cheerful, seemingly pleased to have the pressure of being the eldest targaryen child in court off of his shoulders. in his cheer he had plied you with wine, laughing and japing with an arm over your shoulder as you reminisced on simpler times of your childhood. happy to see him so, you’d not resisted, but now you find yourself regretting those choices as your thoughts tumble sluggishly through your mind.

jace shakes his head fondly at you, reaching out to carefully steal your goblet away. his fingers brush against yours as he does so, the barest of touches and yet enough to set your heart racing as you blink slowly up at him. he sips from your wine deliberately, amber eyes darkening as he holds your stare, and your lips part with an unsteady breath. something about him drinking your wine from your cup has your stomach fluttering pleasantly.

gods, i want him.

the thought is enough to startle you, heat suffusing your cheeks as you avert your gaze. jace doesn’t, though, and you can feel the weight of his stare on you like a tangible thing. it makes your skin prickle with warmth, and you lurch a touch unsteadily to your feet before you can say anything silly like ‘kiss me, please’.

“i think i should retire to my chambers before i make a drunken fool of myself,” you announce, fingers smoothing over the green velvet of your dress.

“i’ll escort you,” jace returns, tone leaving no room for argument.

he sets aside the wine and offers you his arm, quirking an eyebrow as if in challenge. you hesitate for barely a second, taking a steadying breath, before looping your arm through his and allowing him to lead you through the crowd towards the open doors. the woodsy smell of him you’d noticed before is clearer, now, and you take another deep breath of the scent. it calms your nerves and yet inflames your desire, and your fingers tighten infinitesimally against his bicep.

you stop at the doors of the feasting chamber for long enough to let ser erryk know that you’re retiring for the evening, leaving it to him to pass the message on to your mother, and then you and jace are alone in the halls of the keep.

of course, you’re not truly alone. guards litter the corridors and even at this late hour servants bustle along, busy with their chores. but in the quiet of the keep as jace leads you to your rooms, you can almost imagine yourself alone with him. the thought threatens to overwhelm you, mad fantasies of him tugging you into a dark alcove to devour you flashing through your mind, and you scold yourself internally.

you’re really very cross with aegon. he and his wine have left you in this state, too far into your cups to keep control of your dangerous wonderings. if only he had not kept calling for more of that gods-be-damned arbor gold, you’d have been able to keep your wits about you. you’d wanted to dance at the feast, too, mayhaps even with jacaerys but at the very least with your brothers. instead, you’re being led back to your rooms like a child who’s had their first taste of wine with dinner and let it go to their head.

jace’s presence helps your intoxication little. seeing him again, touching him, smelling him — it’s all too much when all your defences are down like this. you feel like a girl again, staring breathlessly after him and so full of certainty that you love him, and it’s just— ridiculous. you’ve spent mere hours in his presence and you’re like some lovelorn idiot with no thought in your mind beyond being as close to him as is possible. it’s foolish, reckless, absurd. but it’s there, regardless, unfurling in your chest with a lovely kind of agony.

you keep quiet on the walk, too afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll beg him to have his way with you or, worse, confess your re-blooming infatuation for him, and jace seems content enough to walk in silence for a while. eventually, though, he speaks.

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen you drunk before,” he observes, tone light.

you glance at him sidelong, pursing your lips at the teasing smirk curling on his mouth. “it’s aegon’s doing,” you tell him solemnly. “my brother is something of an expert on the subject of wines, and his tolerance is… much higher than mine own.”

jace snorts. “aye, i had noticed.”

you lapse into silence, again, only now you find yourself stealing glances at him. he really is very pretty, you think, though in quite a masculine way. something about the sharp line of his jaw and the curl of his eyelashes keeps drawing your attention, and you suspect you are not being subtle with your admiration in your inebriated state. as you walk by an open window moonlight floods into the hall, sending jace’s profile into sharp relief, and your eyes catch on the smattering of freckles on his smooth skin. something about the pattern makes you think of the stars, and you realise too late that your quick glances have turned to a lingering stare.

“is there something on my face, princess?”

jace’s mockingly innocent words draw your eyes to his. he’s smirking down at you, eyes dancing with amusement, and your cheeks flush. gods, you don’t think you’ve blushed so much in moons compared to the mere hours you’ve spent in his company. the things this man is doing to you — it is unconscionable. you don’t know how much more of this you can take before your resolve breaks.

“i apologise, my prince,” your respond after a beat, teeth biting at your lip. “i did not mean to… i was leagues away.”

his eyes darken, mischief fleeing them in favour of flickers of something else as they linger on your mouth, and that damnable heat in your stomach blazes. you want desperately to surge forward and kiss him, or for him to take you in his hands and kiss you. you just want, and ache, and burn. and it’s too much, far too much for your wine-addled brain to process, but you know if anyone was to happen upon you in this corridor, starting at him with your mouth parted and your breaths shuddering through your lungs, there will be consequences.

“we should— we are almost at my chambers.” your words are stumbling, loud in the sudden quiet that had descended over the pair of you, and jace startles a little, eyes darting away from yours as your stomach plummets. gods, what are you doing? staring at him in such a way? he must think you a simple-minded fool, gaping at him for the sake of a few freckles. you step away from him, rubbing your arm as you turn your eyes to stare intently at your feet instead. “i can make it the rest of the way from here. you should return to the feast.”

jace is quiet for a long moment and you peek up at him to see him watching you with an indecipherable expression for a charged breath before nodding slowly and taking a step away.

“as you wish,” he murmurs, ducking his head in a simple bow. “sweet dreams, princess.”

you stutter out your own farewell, half-convinced you’ll be dreaming of nothing but his hands and his mouth this night, before turning and all but fleeing down the hall.

oh, yes. jacaerys is certainly going to be the death of you.

jace spends the next few days at court so entangled in his responsibilities he feels he barely sets eyes upon you.

he and his mother are roped into starting the celebrations in the absence of the king himself. his grandsire’s health is failing, of that there is no doubt, and after enjoying himself a touch too heartily at the welcome feast he requires a few days to recover. he thinks perhaps that’s why these festivities are so important; it’s unlikely the king will make it to his five and fiftieth name day, and almost certainly not his sixtieth. it leaves him with… complicated feelings.

when his grandsire dies, he will no longer be the heir to the heir, but the heir to the iron throne itself. it’s a daunting thought; for all that his mother has seen him well prepared to sit his throne one day, it feels such an impossible task. he doesn’t understand how he’s ever supposed to be ready for such a thing.

the thought rises, unbidden, that it would be easier with you by his side. with your kind heart but sharp mind, you’d make a fine queen. he finds himself daydreaming of it still and scolding himself all the while for acting the green boy, and yet unable to stop. it’s as if his every thought leads back to you in some way or another — he sees a flower and wonders if you’d like the smell of it, or sees a dress and thinks of how much lovelier it would look on you. at night he indulges in more sensual wonderings, and he swears he’s not felt the urge to touch himself so much since he was a boy of five and ten just starting to discover the pleasures the touch of another can bring.

for all that you’d appeared to reject him the night of the welcome feast, he finds himself certain you desire him just as he does you. in fact, he fancies it’s that very desire that had led to you fleeing his company and avoiding him in the days after.

because you are avoiding him.

yes, he is busy with the festivities and you are perhaps equally so. but he does not think it’s busyness that drives you to seek conversation with absolutely anyone else when he looks for your company, and it is not busyness that has you clinging to aemond’s side so fiercely either. you know he won’t approach you when you’re with your brother, knowing how it hurts you to see them trade barbs and knowing himself well enough to know he will not be able to bite back his rancour if aemond says a word about his father.

jace is not an idiot. he knows what people say about him, the words they barely bother to whisper behind their hands about who his true sire is. he has complicated feelings about that, too, but it all boils down to one simple thing: he is his mother’s son. she is heir to the king, and he is her heir. for him, that’s all that can matter.

he knows it’s all that matters to you, too. for all that your brothers had spit bastard at him for as long as he can remember, you’ve never done so. you’ve never looked at him differently for the rumours of his birth, and it’s just one thing among many he treasures about you.

perhaps it’s foolish, to cling to these childhood feelings so tightly, but he cannot let the idea of the two of you together go. he knows luke has noticed how he stares after you in longing, since his brother has never been shy about teasing him relentlessly. he thinks his mother has noticed, too, from the few carefully inane comments she’s made about betrothals and duty.

he supposes an argument could be made for the fact that with the years without contact between you, he doesn’t really know you anymore, not as he once did, but he doesn’t feel it matters. he can learn anything new about you and will in fact do so joyfully, but the important things? the things that speak to who you are at your core? jace has always known those, has always felt connected to you in a way he never has with another, and he loves you now just as he did as a boy.

it would be easier in a way if he felt sure you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. at least then he could try and move on from them, put to bed his endless wonderings of you. but for as often as he turns his head to look at you, he finds you looking away from your own watching of him. the few, brief interactions he has with you over the next few days feel loaded, the desire and affection between you a palpable thing, and he’s tiring of pretending there’s nothing there anymore.

he’s tired of pretending he doesn’t miss you.

so, at the halfway point of the celebrations when there’s another, larger feast held with plenty of chances for dancing and sneaking away into dark corners, he makes it a point to keep an eye on you. the moment he spots you, finally alone, he beelines for you. your attention is on your necklace, readjusting the pendant that rests on your chest, and he cannot help but let his gaze linger on the swell of your breasts as he approaches. he’s found himself staring at your chest more often than is wholly appropriate over the last few days, but then he knows his own weaknesses when it comes to a woman’s form.

“p-prince jacaerys,” you greet weakly when you look up from your necklace, hands smoothing over the skirts of your dress. your eyes dart about the room as if seeking a rescue from someone, and he tries not to feel how such a response to his presence stings. “how are you enjoying the feast?”

“well enough,” he returns, echoing the words you’d spoke to him days ago. gods, has it only been days since that conversation? it feels like an age, and he has felt more distant from you in these passing moments than he is in your years apart.

“that is… good.” your fingers twist around each other, teeth catching on your bottom lip, and he has to swallow back the sudden rush of desire to be the one nipping at the pouting flesh.

“would you do me the honour of a dance, princess?”

his request startles you, eyes widening as your fingers drop back to your side in surprise. he thinks for a wild moment that you’ll say no, make some excuse to remove yourself from him, and he feels himself bracing for the rejection. but you hesitate, searching his face, and whatever you find there seems to soften something in you as you nod.

“of course.” you offer him your hand, an unsure smile on your face.

he takes it with relief, trying not to react at the sensation of your hand in his own. he was right in thinking your hands are smooth, but as he leads you to the dance floor and your fingers slide over his palm he feels the drag of callouses as he’d expected. it pulls him back into that heated imagining of before for a moment, and he has to shake his head slightly to keep himself from losing his wits.

you stay quiet as he guides you into position, dainty hand resting on his shoulder as he places his own at your hip. he leads you through the first few steps in quiet, too, taking the moment to enjoy having you in his arms, having you close. but he realises after a silent minute that you’re obviously not going to say anything, and even as he looks beseechingly at you appear to avoid meeting his eyes.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he speaks lowly, watching you carefully as you stare purposefully at the bridge of his nose instead of his eyes.

your eyes flicker away and back and then away again, fingers tightening around his own as he leads you through the steps of the dance effortlessly. “aye,” you admit quietly. “i have been.”

“why?” he doesn’t mean to sound so desperate nor so accusing, but the quiet hurt that your absence has caused him surges forth before jace can stop it.

you finally meet his gaze, eyes helpless and wanting and aching, and his stomach twists at the sight of your conflicted expression.

“i— jace, i can’t.” your voice cracks with the weight of your emotion and without thinking he pulls you closer, arm wrapping tight around your waist to provide you some semblance of comfort. “i can’t. not here, please.”

wordlessly he alters the steps of the dance, drawing you with precision through the crowd of dancers until you come to one of the balconies. it’s blessedly empty of anyone else, and as soon as you realise it some tension seems to shake loose of you.

you step out of his grip slowly, almost reluctantly, and walk to the railing, palms splaying on the stone. he joins you after the barest hesitation, drinking you in as you stare out at the courtyard and beyond. he notices how tightly you grip the banister, colour leeching from you knuckles with the strength of your grip, and almost without thinking jace rests his hand beside your own, pinkie fingers brushing. the touch seems to release something in you and he hears how your breath shudders before you speak.

“i embarrassed myself on the night of the welcome feast,” you confess miserably. “i drank too much, and the way that i behaved— staring at you in that way— it was not becoming behaviour of a princess, nor of a, a friend. i did not wish to make you uncomfortable again, so i thought it best i keep my distance from you.”

he blinks in surprise. “uncomfortable?” the mere idea of such a thing is maddening. he recalls the sight of you before him, lips parted and oh so kissable as you’d stared at him with such intention it had set him ablaze. how in the name of the gods can you think he found such a thing uncomfortable? “princess, i can assure you, the only feeling i took from your admiration is delight.”

your head snaps around, eyes finally meeting his own again, and he shakes his head in bemusement at the sight of your desperate hope. “truly? you do not jest?”

he resists the urge to chuckle, knowing you’ll take any kind of laughter, no matter how well meaning, poorly. instead he reaches for you, grasps your hands in his own and tries not to bask in the way you lean into him as he steps recklessly into your space. he feels your trembling breaths puff against his jaw as he ducks his head to stare intently into your eyes, and if he were a weaker man jace thinks he’d be on his knees in prostration for you in that very moment.

“surely you must know how i feel for you?” he murmurs, tracking the way the flush in your cheeks travels down your neck and onto your chest with greedy eyes. “how desperately i adore you?”

“jacaerys—.” you huff, shaking your head in denial for all that with every breath you take you sway ever closer to him. “we hardly know each other anymore. i won’t deny there is, is a yearning between us, mayhaps, but you cannot claim to adore me when you know me not. it’s been years since—"

“—do you think time matters?” he talks over you, strong in his conviction that you and he share a bond that transcends time or distance or duty. “that any distance between us could change what i know in my bones? i loved you before i had a name for it. i loved you when we were children and, yes, i love you again now. mayhaps i don’t know your favourite sweet or if you prefer to watch the sun rise or set, but i know you. i know who you are, princess, for all that i might no longer know the rest of it. i know your good heart, your quick mind and i know that i love you.” he hesitates, drinks in the dawning, open wonder on your face, and then adds, “and i think you might love me just the same.”

you sigh out his name sweetly, fingers tangling with his own as he squeezes your hands tenderly. you tilt your chin towards him as your eyes flutter shut. his nose slides against your own as you turn just so to the side, and your mouth is so close. he could kiss you, right now, and he knows that you would not pull away. but he’s too aware of the noise of the feast, the crowd of people that at any moment could find you in a compromising position.

he wants you, gods does he want you, but he will not ruin your reputation, will not sully your virtue for the sake of a stolen kiss on a balcony when he desires no less than forever with you.

“i will not push you,” he murmurs against your lips, breathing the air right from your lungs as he presses his forehead to yours for just a moment. “if you do not want this — if you do not return my feelings — i won’t push you nor pursue you. i hold too great a respect for you for that.” he cradles your jaw, thumb dragging at the corner of your mouth, and he glories in the way you shudder at his touch. with an unsteady breath he separates himself from you, hands clenching into fists at his side in an effort not to immediately reach for you again.

“but if you decide you want me as i want you, that you love me as ardently as i you, then my chambers will be unguarded and unlocked for you.” he sketches a bow, heart thundering in his chest as you stare at him in wordless shock. “i hope to see you later tonight, my princess.”

you have no chance to respond before jace leaves you standing on the balcony.

he leaves you with your mind swirling, one thought after another coming so quickly you have no hope in processing them. you’re glad to be outside, at least, the cool breeze helping soothe the heat that blazes through your veins as you press your hand over your racing heart. you don’t know what to think, what to feel, what to do. all you can think about is jace, earnest and honest and in love with you.

he’s in love with you (!).

it’s too quick. too much time has passed with too little contact. in the years since he left court you’ve grown into new people, people who for all intents and purposes are strangers to each other. the lust is there, there’s no point in denying that with how your body warms at the smallest glance from him. and that old familiarity that blossomed as friendship as children and now into easy companionship as adults, that remains as it always has. and mayhaps you’ve thought to yourself, in the dark quiet of the night, that you’ll surely love him once more. that to know him any better at all is to love him again, because how can you know him and not love him?

but there’s been years and leagues between you for so long. time and distance have their ways of changing a heart, and he might say it doesn’t matter but it does. it does.

only it doesn’t, not at all, because giddiness is bubbling up in you so sudden that you cannot fight it, a helpless laugh escaping you as you press your hand over your mouth in unabashed amazement. your brave prince, plunging headfirst into the long-unspoken feelings between you. it incites you to act, drives you back into the hall where you catch aegon for long enough to tell him you’re retiring for the night before escaping into the quiet corridors.

you feel like your heart is going to burst in your chest, nerves and excitement and awe twisting together inside of you until you feel like you might vibrate out of your own skin. the walk to jace’s chambers is a haze, and in the morning you expect you’ll panic, wonder if anyone saw you walking so shamelessly towards the prince’s rooms. but now, in this moment, all you can think of is how fervently you want him, how guilelessly you love him.

the knock on his door — unguarded, as he had promised — echoes loudly in the silent corridor. you can hear your own heartbeat thundering in your ears as you wait for him to answer, and when he finally does he takes your breath away.

he’s shed his doublet and sword belt, standing in only his breeches and a billowing off-white tunic. the ties are loose on his neck and you’re entranced by the peek of tanned skin there, the freckles you can see disappearing beneath the shirt. he says your name, once, and your eyes snap back to him in time to see the relief and wonder coalesce into smouldering fire.

he curls his fingers around your wrist, thumb swiping over the delicate skin in a way that makes you shiver, and he uses the hold to wordlessly tug you into his chambers. you step into the space, eyes darting from the large bed to the roaring fire and back to the bed again as he locks the doors behind you.

you are finally, blissfully, alone.

you feel his presence behind you, heat and woodsmoke radiating from him as you turn to face him. something in your chest loosens at the blatant awe in his amber eyes, like liquid gold in the light of the flames, and before you can pause to think you’re speaking, your feelings escaping you in a flood.

“i shouldn’t be here,” you say shamelessly. “i know my being here is—. i shouldn’t be here. but i couldn’t not be, jace, not when you left without giving me a chance to tell you how i feel. because, gods, of course i feel for you. it’s unreasonable, insensible— there’s so much about each other we just don’t know anymore.” you shake your head, smiling at him wide and helpless and hopelessly, hopelessly in love with him. “but despite all the rationality in the world, all the good sense — despite knowing the trouble this is sure to bring us — i am completely and utterly in love with you, jacaerys velaryon.”

he kisses you, then, surges into your space and cups your cheeks and slots his mouth so sweetly against yours. you gasp into his lips as he kisses you deliberate, slow and tender in a way that makes your chest ache. your arms loop around his neck, pulling him as close as you can as his own arms wrap around your waist. your noses bump and your teeth clash in your eagerness and it’s still glorious, it’s the best kiss you’ve ever experienced because it’s him.

it’s always been him.

you part after a few minutes, remaining close together as he runs his hand through your hair before cradling your face once more. “tell me again,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing your breath.

“i love you,” you say, smiling so wide it makes your cheeks ache. “i love you, i love you, i lo—”

he kisses you again, a quick press of his mouth against your this time, and then he’s laughing softly as his golden eyes shine down at you. “i have loved you forever,” he tells you, indulgent and affectionate as his thumb traces over your cheek. “i will love you forever, my princess.”

he draws you closer still, holds you tightly against him but far enough that he can drink you in, and for long moments you simply bask in the presence of each other, of this slow unfurling of happiness in your heart. this close to him, you can once again see the freckles dotted across his face. without even thinking of it your hand rises, and with butterfly-gentle fingers you trace a path over the constellations mapped on sun-kissed skin. jace sighs softly with your touch, dark lashes fluttering closed as his lips part.

“iksā sīr gevie [you are so beautiful],” you murmur, slipping into high valyrian in the quiet of his chambers.

he exhales shakily, breath hitching in his chest as your fingers brush gently over his eyelids, the slope of his nose, the furrow of his brow. you want to remember him like this forever – bathed in the soft firelight, trembling beneath your tender touch, wholly and entirely yours.

“ñuha dārilaros [my princess],” he breathes, and hearing him speak possessively of you in your mother tongue ignites something within you so suddenly you cannot fight it.

arousal roars to life, deep in your belly, and you are helpless but to do anything but lean forward and press your lips to his once more. jace meets you just as greedily, hands gripping tightly to the flesh of your hips as he hauls you closer until your chests press together. your hand moves from his face to fist in his hair, tugging at his curls until he whines against your lips. he kisses you deep and open mouthed and filthy, tongue sliding against yours so deliciously that you can feel heat pulse between your legs.

one of his hands comes up to tangle in your hair, pulling until your head is tilted back. he trails hot, wet kisses along your neck and you hiss at the sensation, pressing his head closer to your skin. you feel him smirk against you before he mouths at your pulse point, teeth nipping just enough to send a thrill of pain and pleasure through you.

“jace,” you moan, grinding against him shamelessly as he sucks a bruise into the sensitive skin of your throat. you want him so fiercely it makes you reckless, makes you insatiable as the hand not buried in his curls drags down his back to grip at his ass. he groans against you, your name spilling from his lips so deep and husky that you want to do whatever you can to make him say it like that again and again and again.

“this is— we shouldn’t,” he says into your skin. he pushes at the shoulder of your dress to expose more of your bare skin to his greedy eyes, lips trailing the path his fingers have taken. “we should wait until we—. if anyone knew of this—”

“—no one will know,” you assure him, fingers flexing into the taut skin of his ass to drive him closer to you.

“i don’t want to, to besmirch your honour.” even as he speaks he’s dragging his tongue against your collarbone, chasing a bead of sweat down to the swell of your chest.

“fuck my honour,” you burst out, and your language has him moaning. you hitch your leg around his waist and his hand drops instantly to grip you at the knee, pulling you just so until the hard length of him is grinding deliciously against your core. you can’t think, can’t breathe, for wanting him. his touch and his scent and his taste consumes you, inflames you, and you care for nothing but the feel of him against you.

he pulls away from your chest, mouth swollen and pupils blown as he pants hotly. he presses his forehead to yours, squeezing your hip to still you as you shamelessly try to rub yourself against him. “this will bring ruin to you if it gets out, do you understand? it would break me to be the cause of such a thing.”

his desperation makes you hesitate, something about the fierce tone breaking into the haze of lust that consumes you. you take a moment to look at him, and you know with certainty that if you ask him to stop right this second he will.

but you don’t want him to stop. you’ve never wanted anything less.

“jace.” you cup his cheek, thumb dragging over his bottom lip as you force him to keep your gaze. “i know the risks of this as well as anyone.” you lean in closer, your nose sliding against his before you tilt your head to pepper soft, deliberate kisses along his jaw, the corner of his mouth. “i love you.” he sighs softly in pleasure before turning his head to capture your mouth again, and this kiss is a softer, slower thing.

when you break apart, you stare deeply into his eyes, making sure he can see the truth of your words. the heat in his amber eyes threatens to splinter you to pieces as you swallow thickly, almost overwhelmed once more with your desire for him.

“i am yours, jacaerys velaryon,” you say steadily. “no matter what happens from here— i belong to you.”

it’s like a dam breaks in him. his hands are suddenly everywhere as his mouth devours yours relentlessly, leaving you gasping and arching into his touch. he backs you towards his bed as his hands fist in your skirts, bunching the material up to your hips. he breaks from your mouth long enough to tug your dress over your head, leaving you in your thin small clothes, and despite the sweltering heat of the room your nipples harden beneath the sheer material.

“look at you, pretty thing,” he says reverentially, the weight of his heated gaze tangible as he stares at your heaving chest. “is this all for me?”

“yes,” you hiss, head tilting back as he trails kisses down the column of your throat. “all for you, jace. only ever for you.”

he groans at your words, deft fingers making quick work of the complicated stays of the brassiere, and when the material falls from you he stares for a long moment as if transfixed by the sight of your bare breasts. it makes you smug, knowing that those times you’ve caught his eyes lingering on your chest haven’t just been in your imagination.

“you are perfect,” he murmurs worshipfully, large hand cupping the side of your breast tenderly. “such a perfect girl for me.”

his thumb sweeps over your nipple, featherlight at first before returning more firmly when you sigh and lean into his touch. his other hand grips your hip once more, pulling you close to him as he lavishes more attention on your neck. he nips and kisses his way down your throat, your shoulder, the swell of your breast until he’s hunched slightly in front of you, sucking bruises into the tender skin of your chest.

“jacaerys, please.” you know not what you’re pleading for, only that you need something, and it’s as if he can read your mind as his mouth closes over your nipple. his hand, now free, gropes at your other breast as his tongue swirls tight circles around your nipple and your head tips back with a moan. it’s somehow enough and yet not, your hips bucking aimlessly as heat and slick pools between your legs, and you crave.

“more, please,” you beg shamelessly.

jace drops to the floor in response and the sight of him on his knees for you has your head spinning. he presses open mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your abdomen, bites gently at your hip as his hands slide steadily up your legs. you tremble beneath his careful ministrations, and he murmurs wordless assurances into your sweat-slick skin.

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your smalls, dragging them agonisingly slowly down your legs until you can step out of them. standing completely bare before him you expect to find yourself shy, but the way jace looks at you rapturously has liquid heat licking through your veins instead.

he leaves lingering kisses on your thigh and down your leg, and when his mouth brushes over the tender skin at the back of your knee you feel them buckle. he huffs a gentle laugh against you, warm hands cradling your waist as he urges you to sit back on the bed. you do so unsteadily, planting your hands against the soft feather mattress and watching him with intent ardour.

he nudges your legs apart and settles between them, his shoulders spreading you wide around him and you release a soft breath as his thumbs rub soothing circles into your thighs. “let me take care of you, my princess,” he pleads, eyes wide and soft and beseeching as he gazes up at you. you nod hesitantly, not wholly sure what he intends, but then his eyes finally drop to your core and darken so quickly it makes your mouth dry.

“gods, look at you.” he drags a finger through your folds and your head cants back, a whine escaping you at the touch. “you’re so wet for me, love. so gorgeous.” he brings his finger to his mouth, licking it clean of your slick and it has your mouth dropping open because he’s obscene, you think. he’s glorious.

“you taste so good,” he says, his voice so rough with arousal it makes you shiver. “wanna taste more of you.”

with no more warning that that, he licks a deliberate strip along your slit before circling his tongue over your clit. your hand shoots to his hair, tangling in the dark curls as he feasts on you. his name falls from your lips over and over again like a prayer as he laps at your core, tongue pressing deliciously inside you. you grind wantonly against his mouth, panting as he laves at your cunt.

your pleasure climbs sharply, rising so high you’re helpless to resist the way your stomach tightens. as if sensing your approaching high jace shifts his focus to your pulsing clit, flicking his tongue rapidly over the bundle of nerves.

“jace, gods, feels so good,” you gasp out, fingers tightening in his curls to press his head impossibly closer. “please don’t stop, ‘m so close—”

he sucks harshly on your pearl, ever so carefully dragging his teeth over the sensitive flesh, and you fall to pieces as that tightly wound ball in your stomach snaps. he coaxes you through the trembling release, gentling his attention on you to drag out your pleasure until you’re squirming away from him in sensitivity. when he pulls away from your core his face is shining with your slick and the sight makes you feel feral. you bend to reach him and he presses up to meet you, kissing you hot and messy as you drink the taste of yourself from his mouth.

“you did so well for me, my princess,” he pants into your mouth as he crowds you onto the bed and the praise blooms hot in your chest. “need you to be good for me a little longer, okay? need to prepare you.”

you whimper, capturing his mouth in another sloppy kiss and nipping thoughtlessly at his lips as he settles between your legs. you can feel the heavy length of him against your hip, kept from you by his breeches, and you’re suddenly insensible with desire to see more of his skin. you tug wordlessly at the hem of his tunic, pulling it free from his trousers, and with a huff of fond amusement he separates from you to pull it over his head and toss it aside.

you drink in the exposed planes of his chest, leaning up to drag your tongue from freckle to freckle along his collarbone, and jace groans out your name in response. you follow the map of constellations down his chest, pressing kisses and gentle bites to the skin until you come to one of his nipples. hesitantly you flick your tongue out, curl it around the puckered skin just as jace had done to you earlier.

“fuck,” he hisses, fingers clenching in the sheets as his arms tremble with the strain of keeping himself steady above you.

emboldened by his response you lavish the pebbled bud with attention, switching to the other when the fancy takes you, until jace is shuddering with desire and pushing your shoulders back into the bed. he swallows your protests with a flurry of kisses as his fingers trail down your chest, your abdomen until he reaches the heat between your legs. he presses a finger against you again and you arch into the touch, tossing your head back into the pillows.

“i want you so badly,” he confesses in a whisper as he sucks another bruise into your neck.

“yes,” you respond senselessly, hips bucking up to meet the slow stroke of his finger. “want you, jace, please.”

“i need to prepare you first, love,” he tells you again and you whine in displeasure. “i don’t wish to hurt you, so i need to get you ready for me.”

you’ve heard that it can hurt, what happens in bed between a man and a woman. you can’t comprehend the idea with how good you feel right now, how good he’s made you feel already, but you nod in acquiescence at jace’s stubborn expression and he beams down at you.

“that’s my good girl,” he utters affectionately, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

the finger that’s been sliding leisurely against you shifts, pressing inside with a familiar stretch. you’ve touched yourself before, explored what pleasure you can draw from your own body in the late of the night. you don’t know if it’s different because it’s the angle or just because it’s jace, but the feeling of his finger pumping into you is so much better than anything you’ve managed with your own clumsy digits and you moan with the pleasure of it.

“you’re so tight,” he says in amazement, burning gold eyes staring down at you worshipfully. “can’t wait to be inside you, my princess.”

you moan at his filthy words, hips bucking into his touch as he presses a second finger into you. this one pinches more, makes it almost uncomfortable until jace starts to rub slow circles over your clit with his thumb. any discomfort melts into liquid pleasure as he mouths at your neck once more, fingers crooking inside of you just so until stars burst behind your eyes.

“fuck, jacaerys—”

he shushes you softly even as his eyes gleam with smug pride. he picks up the pace, now, fucking you with his fingers as your pleasure starts to climb once more. just when you start to feel like you can’t take it anymore he slides a third finger in, the stetch burning deliciously this time, and you come apart on his fingers with a strangled moan of his name. he doesn’t relent this time, though, even when you writhe helplessly beneath him; he just chases another release for you without giving you a chance to recover, and the thrill rises so quickly it almost makes it a little hard to breathe.

“just one more,” he soothes as you whine, pressing delicate kisses to the corner of your mouth as he drives his fingers into you relentlessly. “you’re doing so well. just one more for me.”

your third climax hits you so hard your back bows up from the bed, mouth parting in a silent cry of pleasure as jace coaxes you through it before pulling his fingers from you. you ache at the loss, mewling your displeasure as your cunt clenches around nothing. he breathes a laugh at your impatience, kissing you so sweetly in such contrast to the delicious heat between you that it almost makes you weep.

with shaking hands you reach for the ties of his breaches, fumbling with the laces while he kisses you languidly. you make a triumphant little noise when you finally untie them and he smiles at you, adoring and soft and yet somehow feverishly aroused as you push the leather trousers down his hips. he helps you the rest of the way, kicking them off before returning to hover over you.

your hands brush his abdomen as you reach for him, fingers curling gently around the hard line of his cock, and he realises a shuddering breath in response. he watches you intently as you stare at his arousal, fascinated by the way your fingers barely close around the thick girth of him. he’s going to fill you so well, you realise, and you bite your lip as your core clenches again. the tip of him is leaking fluid, and you drag your hand up his cock to swipe your thumb over the head.

jace moans at the movement, so you do it again and again, watching in inflamed curiosity at the way his stomach contracts as he thrusts into your hand, the wet noise of it making you flush down to your toes as desire sparks in your core. his hand covers your own abruptly, stopping your exploration, and you pout up at him as he fixes you with a blazing stare.

“if you keep doing that, i’m not going to last,” he says, voice shaking with the weight of his desire.

“fine.”

you huff, pretending at annoyance even as you eagerly lie back and spread your legs for him. you fix him with an expectant look, raising an eyebrow, and he chuckles fondly as he settles himself between your legs once more. you’re not expecting the velvet heat of him dragging against you and you gasp at the sensation, grinding against him as he thrusts shallowly against you.

“are you ready for me, love?” he checks, cradling your face in his hands as his thumb rubs over your jaw.

you turn to press a kiss against his palm, near overwhelmed with your love and affection for this man. “yes,” you say simply, and it’s all the permission he needs as he ducks down to kiss you unhurriedly.

his head catches at your opening on the next thrust, and with the slightest shift of your hips he’s pressing inside of you. the stretch of him burns, pinches, but just as he did with his fingers, he worms his hand between your bodies to drag circles over your clit. you do your best to relax, keeping your eyes fixed on his golden stare as he slides into you, agonisingly slow.

the whole while he keeps up a litany of praise, calling you good and precious and perfect as sweat beads along his forehead. when he’s finally fully sheathed inside you he stills his movements, kisses you hard and wanting as he thumbs at your pearl, and when you’re ready you tilt your hips. the stretch of him burns, still, but in a way that sets your skin alight as you cling to his shoulders.

he moans your name like a prayer, drawing away from you until the tip of his cock catches at your entrance once more, and this time when he sinks back in your eyes roll back into your head. he feels so good, stretching and filling you so completely that you’ve no room to think, to breathe, to do anything but take it as he thrusts into you. he buries his head in your neck, resting on his forearms as he plunges into you again and again and again, and between your own choked breaths and the sounds of skin against skin, you hear him muttering in high valyrian.

“sīr sȳz syt nyke, sīr ȳrda, sīr lōz. vēttan syt nyke. ñuha dārilaros, mirre ñuhon [so good for me, so tight, so wet. made for me. my princess, all mine].”

it drives you wild, his voice and his words and hearing him speak in valyrian combined with the exquisite torture of the slow drag of his cock inside you. it’s too much, not enough, and leaves you with nothing but the need to feel as much of him as you possibly can. your hands drag up and down his back, fingernails leaving raised red lines in their wake as you seek to be as close to him as you can bear.

“more, jace, gods, please, i need—”

he cuts you off with a hard thrust, your breath punching out of your lungs as he starts to drive into you harder and faster. it’s so good, so fucking good, but still not quite enough and you whine, seeking something you’re not sure you know how to verbalise.

“whatever you need, love. i’ll give you whatever you need.”

understanding your need even when you don’t, jacaerys rears up, grips your legs and presses your knees to your chest before bearing down on you. like this he reaches so deep it hurts in the most unbearably, searingly pleasurable way. and it’s perfect, exactly what you needed, feeling him so far inside you that it soothes you and ignites you and makes you ache all at once.

“y’feel so good,” you manage to slur out, head lolling as you lose yourself to the feel of him taking you apart so expertly. “so— fuck— so deep. so good, jace, so good.”

jace groans your name, pounding into you so hard and so deep that it’s unconscionable, has your eyes rolling back into your head as your hips buck up to meet him recklessly. your peak approaches again, searing heat blazing through you as you inch closer to another climax, and all you can do is whine and moan as he fills you over and over again. he starts to lose the thread of his rhythm as you clench around him, valyrian and common tongue mixing senselessly as praise spills from his lips.

“avy jorrāelan [i love you] my perfect girl, gūrogon nyke sīr sȳrī [take me so well], can’t get enough of you, hells, i love you, ao sagon ñuhon [you’re mine], my love, my princess, my queen, ñuha ābrazȳrys [my wife].”

you come so hard you see stars, walls pulsing around jace’s cock as he curses. he thrusts sloppily into you, chasing his own release and dragging out your own as you keen, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. he finds completion with a drawn out noise, seed spilling hot and thick inside of you as he lazily pumps his hips two, three more times before collapsing on top of you.

you press absent kisses to his temple, brushing back the sweat-soaked curls from where they’ve matted on his forehead as he shudders against you. you feel lethargic, body aching in the sweetest of ways as you fight to catch your breath. eventually the heavy weight of jace on top of you becomes uncomfortable and you squirm beneath him in protest. with a sigh he slides himself free of you, rolling over onto his back and wrapping an arm around you to pull you with him so that you sprawl over his chest.

you bury your smile into his neck, satisfaction settling bone-deep as his hand runs up and down your back idly. for long moments the two of simply lie together in the quiet, the only sound the rustling of the sheets and the crackle of the dying fire.

“i’ll speak to my mother and the king on the morrow,” he says into the quiet and you raise your head to look at him. he looks serious, amber eyes contemplative as he peers down at you. “i’ll not let another night pass without you as my betrothed.” he smiles at you then, a little crooked as his eyes crinkle, and without thought you reach up to press a lingering kiss to his mouth.

“i love you,” you say, eyes shining with mischief. “ñuha valzȳrys [my husband].”

jace swallows your laugh with another kiss, doing a poor job of hiding his own amusement as his smile presses to yours, and as the candles burn down you let all of your worries and doubts fade.

you love him. he loves you.

there’s nothing else that matters.

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys smut #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #jacaerys targaryen #jace velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen smut #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys targaryen imagine #jacaerys targaryen fanfic #my writing

3K notes · View notes

sinstae · 2 months ago

Text

TILL DAWN ᯓ‪♡

Pairings | L&D!Sylus , L&D!Zayne x fem. reader

Genre | smut

Word Count | 6,014 🥵

Warnings | ⚠️ MINORS DNI ⚠️ smut, smut SMUT, dom!Sylus , dom!Zayne, sub!reader, size difference, oral and vaginal sex, throuple! , poly, vaginal fingering, rough sex, soft sex, edging, pet names, use of evol, explicit sexual content! Enjoy! c;

🔖 m.list ♡

a/n ; oml I've had a looooooong hiatus uploading here �� I became a full time reader tbh with how hectic life has gotten since becoming a young adult. Rough transition oof but AAAAA Love & Deepspace is such a nice outlet, LOVE the fics going around so I decided to write one of my own.. hope ya like 😋

I feel disgustingly desperate.

So much so, I can feel that ugly, tight, feeling claw at my chest.

It’s another one of those nights where I try to initiate intimacy with my partners but they both shut me down.

Zayne has been holed up in one of Sylus' spare rooms as a home office since he’d gotten off of work almost three hours ago and Sylus had shown up only twenty minutes ago with Mephisto perched on his shoulder.

We were both in need of one another and in each other’s embrace making out the entire time until now. . .

“Sweetheart. . . Don’t work yourself up, it’s late.” Sylus looks down at me, straddling his lap, with his hands rubbing my hips. I attempted to grind against him to earn that excuse.

For the fifth time this week.

I’m so pathetic.

I move from his touch when one of his hands leave my waist to reach for my face. I use his chest to gently push myself up, swinging a bare leg from his side.

Before I could get far, Sylus snatches my wrist and hip, firmly pulling me back to straddle a single, tensed thigh. I look up at him a bit startled and his brows are pinched together, eyes burning red.

“Sy-”

“Pathetic?” I’m often careless when thinking loudly around him. His face shows that he seems almost offended that I’d thought such a thing. It almost makes me accept whatever he’s gonna tell me but I become slightly upset that he's acting on my thoughts rather than my blatant expression of needing him.

“Yes.” I straighten my back. “Very. I guess I should’ve gotten the hint the third time, right? Instead here I am embarrassing myself for the fifth time.” I try to maintain fierce eye contact with Sylus but I feel my resolve slowly waning the more I think about their rejection lately.

Sylus gives me a confused look then slowly his face relaxes as he chuckles, rubbing my inner wrist with his thumb.

“Have I gotten my Kitten in heat?”

“Sylus, I’m serious.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” He fights back against my pulling with a strong hold and his eyes haze over as he looks down his nose at me. “Enough. Be still and talk with me-”

“I don’t wanna talk!” My voice raises and Sylus grows stiff, the creek of a door in the distance making him huff.

Moments later, the steady shuffling of house slippers grows closer and Zayne walks into the open living room from the long hallway. Sylus has his back to him, only his silver head and broad shoulders visible with me facing Zayne.

“What’s going on?” He asks calmly as he stops short, only walking a few feet into the candle-lit room.

“I-” I begin to speak but Sylus cuts me off.

“Are you showing your face now?” His tone has annoyance behind it and I relax in his hold, caught off guard from him addressing Zayne in that tone.

“Perhaps.” Is all Zayne offers. Sylus scoffs and makes eye contact with me for his next response.

“Y/N, sweetheart, tell him your grievances.” I’m slightly confused as his eyes remain burning into mine until he moves closer to my neck.

“I-I..uh, I’m upset, Zayne, because I’ve been trying to express my needs to you both but I feel it’s not welcomed.” The atmosphere feels thick, like it could be pierced with Zayne’s evol.

“Would you care to share why that is, Doctor?” Sylus sounds a bit playful now. His flickering emotions are almost as hard to grasp as Zayne’s.

“No.”

This clearly enrages Sylus. He’s gentle but quick in his movements as he uses his evol to move me to the soft cushion of the sofa while in an instant he’s at Zayne’s side. I remain on my knees as I lean onto the cushion to watch them.

“For how long will you keep this up?” Zayne lifts a hand to his neck and it’s such a sight to see him be this way. He’s normally composed, at even levels with Sylus, but right now he seems almost.. bashful.

“It’s not purposeful.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’ve had three surgeries this week-”

“Look at me.” Sylus demands him. When Zayne is hesitant to, Sylus reaches out and grabs the man’s face to gently bring his hazel-green eyes to meet his. “At least look at me if you’re gonna give me excuses.”

I swear from here if I squint I can see blush dusting Zayne’s cheeks under the candles they’re standing next to. I can see they’re in some sort of silent/mental conversation and decide to make myself present again.

“Guys?”

Zayne is the first to make a move and tuck his hands into his sweats as Sylus’ hand drops to Zayne’s waist instead.

“What’s going on? Did I.. do something?” At my question they give each other looks before they’re both walking my way. I sit back onto my feet then transition to sitting correctly as they take a seat on either side of me, crowding my space with their scent.

“Sylus and I. . We, uh-” Zayne stammers leaving me stunned at his behavior and from up close I can see that he is blushing.

“We kissed.” Sylus says for him and I whip my head in his direction, eyes surely wide as he’s smirking around the rim of his glass of wine.

“You- you- What?” I can’t contain my shock and I almost feel wrong as Sylus cocks a perfectly arched brow at me.

“What? Don’t tell me you underestimate my influence, Sweetheart.” He leans forward to place the glass on the table and Zayne chuckles so soft it almost sounds like a scoff.

“He’s insufferable even in such vulnerable moments.” Zayne refers to the kiss presumably and I start to grow guilty. I had been so caught up in my own needs that I really hadn’t noticed that something like that had happened.

“Wow- well that’s great! That’s a huge step for you guys, I’m happy for you both.” I grasp their hands and Sylus squeezes mine while Zayne rubs his thumb across.

“Tsk, don’t think our conversation is over. You have to talk as well.” Sylus reminds me and a wave of guilt washes over me once again.

“I’m really sorry about that, Sy. I was just overreacting without knowing-”

“No, no. I heard your thoughts perfectly.”

“What is it?” Zayne speaks up.

“Kitten has been all pent up through your brooding. Normally your absence isn’t an issue but your constant dodging had put me in a mood.” Sylus is sipping another half-full glass of wine.

“You must be in relation to the recent attacks then. You upset the Wanderers nearby.” Zayne’s tone is almost scolding now.

“I’m sure. I also killed them all myself had I not?”

I can barely focus through their banter as I stare at Sylus’ wine stained lips wishing he was leaving his kiss marks to stain my skin. Bite and suck his claim along with Zayne’s frosty touches leaving snowflakes and goosebumps in its wake.

“Y/N?” Zayne’s voice brings me back and I blink up at Sylus who’s smirking down at me with a haze in his eyes.

“Yes?” Zayne moves closer and I feel his warmth at my back, his soft sweater brushing against the exposed skin my short, satin-lace slip wasn’t covering.

“I was talking to you, did you not hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Ever the caring man that he is, why can’t he see through me like Sylus sometimes?

Zayne’s chilled hand comes up to rest on my forehead from behind me and I can’t help but lean back into his touch. Sylus takes his time as he moves about, undoing two more buttons from his dress shirt after he sets his empty wine glass back down.

I watch as he wipes a bit of stray wine from his lips and with that same thumb he presses it to my lips. Once again rendering me to my spot in shock that quickly turns into relief.

Finally I can have them again.

I quickly latch onto his thumb and suck the rich flavor from his salted skin. He looks pleased and his eyes flick up behind me.

“She doesn’t seem fine. We drove her into heat.” Sylus is still teasing and Zayne humors him in playing along.

“Mmm. I see. There’s several remedies for such a thing. . . Does our patient require an eval?” I press my thighs tighter together as Sylus continues to stare into my soul, his large hands slowly drawing circles along my thigh closest to him.

“Y-Yes please, Dr. Zayne.” I moan softly as Zayne’s hand resting on my forehead travels into my hair and along my scalp a few times in a firm massage.

“Comfort levels seem to be just fine. . .” His hand then trails down the back of my ear, along the side of my neck and my breath hitches as he brushes a sensitive spot. “Hm, sensitivity is high.”

I feel like prey in their gazes. They’re enjoying watching me squirm as they touch every bare part of me within their reach. Zayne is the first to lean into me and press a kiss to the area where my neck and shoulder meet, a bit of his tongue brushing against me.

“I apologize. I failed to communicate to you both how I was feeling and ended up having you both doubt yourselves in some way.” He sighs against my neck then rubs his nose with a deep inhale. “I care about you both, so much, it was never my intention to upset either of you.”

The sincerity laced in his words hits me in other places than my heart with their combined touches. This is what I love most about our dynamic, that Zayne will always communicate but only bluntly and when necessary. Sylus is blessed with his hands, even smoother with his mouth. It shouldn’t be such a surprise he’d gotten Zayne to open up, I was as closed off as he was.

Sylus is looking over my head at Zayne and there’s a look in his eyes that contrasts the smirk adorning his lips. His lips. . .

His eyes flicker down to mine and his gaze completely changes. Almost like a predator finding its prey.

“Thank you, Doctor. My unseen wounds are healed. There is however, something very urgent that needs care.” Zayne is able to rest his back against the soft plush of the wide sofa with me pressed against him as Sylus moves to hover above me.

“That is?”

“A wounded Kitten.”

Sylus presses his lips to mine in a passionate kiss, his free hand he isn’t using to prop himself up has started to grip at the thick parts of my inner thigh. My body jerks into his hold as he swallows my soft noises, eventually licking his way into my mouth as his rough fingertips dance higher.

“You’re so responsive, Y/N. I love the sounds you make. . .” Zayne’s voice is breathy in my ear as his own hands start to wander. While Sylus has made his way to my panties, right against my slit, Zayne grips my breast over the thin layer of clothing.

I break away from the kiss with a loud moan puffing from my chest, curling my toes from the intense sensitivity of my hardened nipples and Zayne’s icy touch.

“Please. . .”

“Begging already?”

“I’ve been begging.”

“Tsk, feisty kitty.” Sylus chuckles and presses a trail of kisses from the corner of my mouth down to my neck where he bites my soft spot. A whiny moan forces itself out of me as my eyes roll back, clenching around his two fingers that abruptly entered me at the same moment.

Zayne looks down, shook from the noise that came out of me and Sylus soothes the area with a lick and a kiss whilst looking at him proudly.

“She’s a goner right now, she’ll be back as soon as she feels my tongue.” Sylus is nonchalant as Zayne whispers praises in my ear, lulling me deeper into a pleasured haze.

Two hard spasms around Sylus’ fingers then I’m coming hard. My cum drips down his wrist and veiny arm as he slowly curls his fingers upwards, rubbing a soft patch against my walls.

“Good girl-” They both say at the same time, Zayne in a whisper while Sylus groans from the sight. They make brief eye contact before Sylus is diving down to my pussy, ripping another pair of panties in a haste.

His mouth latches onto my clit and my eyes shoot open, blinking through warm tears as my legs curl up to my chest. Mixtures of whines and moans tumble from my lips while Zayne’s hand found its way under my slip against my bare breast, just resting, with my nipple between two fingers while the other has my cheek cradled while he presses kisses to my temple.

“You’re doing so good, Darling. You haven’t squirmed once while getting cleaned up.” Zayne praises and I blush while biting back another moan. “Can I hear that pretty voice again, hm?”

I look up at him with teary vision and he’s flushed, a bit of sweat making the tips of his hair damp. His eyes are full of awe and love. It makes me clamp around Sylus’ head which earns me a delicious groan against my clit.

“A-Ah! It feels so-oh good.” I can barely get words out as my throat has grown a bit scratchy. It seems to satisfy Zayne as he leans in and presses his nose right up under my ear with another deep inhale.

Moments later he’s pressing a cool, marble sized ice sphere to my lips and I part, humming in relief from the cool temperature and its quick melting that soothes my throat.

Sylus sits up from his feasting, using his handkerchief to wipe my slick from his chin. He tosses it onto the coffee table and starts to rip the rest of my panties off while Zayne gently sits me up to adjust his hard erection.

“However you like tonight Kitten, I’ve had my fill for now. I’m fine to wait in our bedroom.” Sylus’ large hand takes up most of my tummy as he rubs warm circles.

“No- I want both of you. Please. . .” A glint flashes in his crimson eyes.

“Y/N, are you sure?” Zayne gently rakes his fingers along my scalp.

“Positive. Green, very green right now.” I see Sylus look over me at Zayne for a few seconds then he looks back at me.

“Very well. Bedroom. Now.” He plants one foot on the fluffy rug then hauls me up with one arm over his shoulder. I yelp at the sudden change in axis and he playfully spanks my bare ass.

Through my swaying hair I see Zayne following close behind as Sylus leads us to our shared bedroom. He kicks the door open with his foot and slips out of his own house slippers near the entrance.

Zayne shuts us in the darkness then moments later our chamber is glowing in warm changing LEDs. I bounce on the bed a bit from Sylus’ gentle dismount then crawls backwards up towards the headboard.

“Let me-”

“Wait.” Sylus stops Zayne from rushing to me with a firm grip around the man’s waist. Zayne grabs the very arm and looks at Sylus in question, finding an expression with vulnerability. “This is our first time. All together. I’ll let you of course but, don’t neglect me Doctor.”

Zayne blushes from the neck up and his grip tightens around Sylus’ forearm, holding him there before pushing his arm away.

“I’m not your prey.”

I make eye contact with him and he’s got a look in his eyes that doubles down on his words. He uses one hand to pull his shirt off in one swift motion, revealing his detailed, toned body.

He’s been having trouble sleeping since adjusting to staying here more often and Sylus had offered to help with intense workouts. It’s starting to show at this moment as I notice his physique is almost as broad as Sylus’.

Slender, long fingers slip into his waistband and rids himself of his sweats in quick and precise movements. He kicks them to the side then he’s crawling onto the thick comforter towards me.

I catch sight of his scars on his arm as he cages me in against the pillows in a plank and can’t stop myself from pressing gentle kisses. He allows me for a few kisses before he’s grabbing my chin and turning my attention to him.

I know my eyes must be teary with all my pent up dopamine finally releasing. I feel so incredibly happy and safe when I’m in their presence, I feel the urge to express it in the language I know best.

Catching him while he’s off guard, leaning in to kiss me, I quickly wrap my legs around his thick thighs and use all my strength to propel forward into the kiss. I’m mindful to not headbutt him in the process while his body gives in and flips us successfully with me straddling him.

Zayne’s hands steady our rocking bodies with a firm grip on my ass, huffing soft moans and grunts into the kiss. I hear a whistle from behind and it makes me break away slowly, saliva still connecting us as the weight of Sylus joining us makes my hips grind right onto the tip of his dick.

“Ah~!” I gasp, clenching around nothing, aching to be filled up. My need to please Zayne is just as strong. For some reason, seeing him blush like that earlier from Sylus had me slightly jealous that it seems he could get the man to soften in a way I hadn’t before. I must hear his sweet sounds, for me.

“Kitten is digging in her claws. Careful, she might swallow you whole.” Sylus taunts while reaching out, resting his large hand over Zayne’s right one on my ass.

The mix of their hot and cold touch has me reeling into Zayne, pressing sloppy aimed kisses to his lips that he doesn’t seem to mind receiving, returning each one. I feel Sylus other hand start to creep towards my pussy again and it snaps me back.

“W-Wait.” I push myself up and look down to meet Zayne’s gaze. “I wanna taste you.” I don’t mean my words to come out in a plea but it does and I feel his grip on me tighten as he nods his head once.

Sylus gives me enough room to move, Zayne resting in a comfortable half sitting position as I arch onto my knees. As I’m nuzzling my face against his warm cock, a stinging pain shoots across my ass with a loud thwack!

“Ah!”

“Don’t play with your food, Kitten. Be a good girl, and eat.” Sylus’ familiar tone of no-nonsense is back and I do as I’m told, gladly.

Zayne helps me out of his briefs and I quickly toss them to the side, biting my lip as I take in all his glory. He reaches out and drags his thumb along my chin then pulls down, my lip slipping free of my teeth.

“I love when you do that. . . I always know you’re about to treat me better than I deserve.” His words are soft spoken with eye contact unwavering.

“My favorite thing to do is give you everything you deserve.” I take his base in a gentle grip and guide his red, leaking tip to my lips to press a kiss. His breath hitches while he maintains eye contact with me and I begin to kitten lick as another reminding spank makes me wrap my lips around him and suck.

Zayne’s breathy moans fill the room, my gaze landing on him every now and then to see him watching me with a rosy face while he bites his fist. I’m sure to take my hands away and brace myself against his thick thighs then soon transition to a deeper arch as I slide my arms beneath his bent legs to wrap around his waist. Like this he’s able to thrust deeper into my throat, his moans start to turn into borderline whining when my nose hits his pelvis. My eyes roll back from the slight airflow restriction as he pumps a few deep strokes before pulling me away with a fist full of my hair.

I feel my pussy leaking all over my thighs as I’ve been constantly twitching throughout. Zayne’s heated body is heaving as he takes in deep breaths, soothing my hair and puffy lips with his soft touches. I slip his thumb into my mouth and suck the salty taste from it, moaning for good measure.

“Such a cock hungry Kitten. Always need a hole filled, hm?” Sylus is closer now, his warmth at my backside, while his hands reach out and slide up and down my bare sides from where my slip had ridden up.

“Yes- Please Sy-” Another spank. “Sir! Sorry, Sir. M’so cock hungry I can’t think straight.” Zayne’s grip tightens on my chin at my words and I smirk up at him, not too shocked he’d like that title as well.

When we’re intimate we’re mostly vanilla. He loves eating me out and leaving wet kisses all over before he’s satisfied enough to dick me down. Sylus loves to be the one in control, ensuring roles and rules that we both make and agree on so that when we’re in moments of passion we know each other’s limits. He’s keen on the title ‘Sir’ these days after I convinced him to sit with me through studying while he was in his office cleaning off his guns. I’d responded to a question with “Yes Sir” in a teasing tone that resulted in me bent over his desk, homework abandoned. “Don’t think things are different just cause Zayne’s here, Sweetheart.” He takes two fingers and slides them through my wet lips, spreading and closing them to watch my slick drip out. With the same fingers he brings it to his cock he’d been freed long ago as he watched the show. His kitten giving the best head, almost envious of his partner. “Gonna fuck you open and I want you to continue, yeah?” I know it’s not a question as I dig my fingers into Zayne's hips while pressing mine back at the feel of his tip lining up.

"Yes, Sir." I give Zayne a toothy smile, his eyes lidded while he still struggles with his arousal. Seeing how Sylus and I interact with each other is clearly a turn on. His tip is constantly twitching and oozing precum that I lick up eagerly then slide his whole dick back down my throat.

"Fuck!" Zayne grips my hair in a tight, messy ponytail as his hips jerk upwards and he starts to subtly thrust through my bobbing until eventually I let him take the lead guiding my head while I leak all over Sylus's tip that easily slides in thanks to his skilled tongue.

There's many scenarios I'd daydream about when it came to having both my boyfriends at once. One did go a little like this but nothing compares to the real thing. Every little touch has me gushing and eager for the next.

Sylus has entered a bruising pace, he's found a spot nestled deep inside that only he can reach with his thick tip. It's snagging a bit, applying a pressure that we both feel. His huffing and deep moans spur me on, sucking Zayne as a release that earns me a beautiful whiny moan. His face is a deep blush, sweat now completely formed and streaking down his sideburns.

I can see in his gaze he's fighting to stay in the moment, too taken with pleasure. I feel a swell in my chest close to my heart as I moan around him. "Y/N, a-ha. . ." He's panting, unable to communicate and I hum around him, making him whimper again before tugging on my scalp, a cool sensation starting to caress my scalp.

"Zayne." Sylus voice booms in the room and it makes Zayne eyes widen. His arm is coated in soft flurries down to his wrist connecting to my hair which has partially froze at the base of the makeshift ponytail.

I let out a whiny moan myself as he gently pulls me off his dick with my built up saliva dribbling down to his balls. I pout up at him, my pout deepening as Sylus' slowed thrust come to a halt buried against my cervix.

"Zaaayne~"

"Kitten." Sylus warns. When Sylus barely offers any words I know his eyes must be doing the talking. Zayne has gotten control of his breathing, his legs returning flat to the bed.

"He's right, my love. I need to always be in control, I should never hurt you. Not when I can bring you pleasure, which is what you deserve." Zayne's hand falls from my hair as the flurries start to retreat and dissipate. My stiff ponytail melts and drops, cascading around my shoulders and back to meet Sylus' hands resting there.

I hadn't noticed, until I caught glimpse through teary eyes of the flurries vanishing, what happened and why things stopped.

Zayne had lost control of his Evol?

Something about getting Zayne to that point surges another wave of arousal through me. I know he'd never hurt me, no matter the circumstance, and him coming close to freezing my head in place for his own pleasure should frighten me yet. . . it makes me proud.

"Tsk. Just as I said, sick Kitten." Sylus smirks down at where our bodies meet watching and feeling my constant clenching. He delivers another spank, kneading my rosy flesh as it starts to redden into a large handprint. "She liked that, mmph- maybe even loved it."

"This is your doing." Zayne directs his comment towards Sylus.

"Aht- There will be no kink shaming in my bed. I can very well show you who's doing it really is." His eyes cut down to me, reaching a hand out to grip the back of my hair and tug me up against his chest, pushing deeper into my leaking cunt.

"Syl- mmh!" Sylus grips my throat, cutting off my words and a bit of air flow.

"Seems I'll be able to show you rather than play games with you, Doctor. This bad Kitten just can't seem to remember her manners." He lets out an airy laugh, "Clenching me tighter than a fucking Boa. Easy." He grits out while releasing my throat for me to breathe properly, moving his hands to my breast instead. He's kneeling back with me sitting in his lap, arched against his hands, squirming impatiently.

"Fine, since you're so eager to. Ride.'' I lift my hips soon as the words leave his lips and slam back down in relief. Sylus loves when I ride him. He always has me face him, demanding "I need to see those pretty eyes when you come undone". He must be doing this for Zayne, putting on a show for him.

One that he seems to be enjoying. He has his hand wrapped tightly around his cock, stroking up and down in slow, controlled wrist movements. He's using my drool as lube, squeezing when he gets to the tip to push out fresh precum.

Watching his lewd acts makes my hips speed up, hips rising higher towards Sylus' tip to slam back down. The silver haired man watches me in awe, toying with my nipples over the material as he huffs out soft moans.

"My lap is soaked, Darling. Ovulation must be here, hm?" Sylus leans forward to hug me close and lick a long stripe up my neck. I feel my belly burn with a familiar tightness as I clench harder, hips starting to slow as I reach my peak. "Tsk." Sylus takes control and slides his hands down to my waist, gripping firmly before absolutely pounding up into me.

"Ah! Yes- Yes, fuck, S-Sir feels s'good. . There!" Sylus hits a spot he's never struck before, a blinding pain shoots through me and my head snaps down on instinct, a few tears dropping onto a very prominent bulge. Sylus' mushroom tip pokes under my belly button with each thrust and pornographic moans fill the room from all three of us.

I catch sight of Zayne thrusting up into his fist, leaving just his tip in the tightest part of his grasp as ropes of cum shoot from his tip. It lands messily all over his hand, wrist, arm and abdomen. I clench around Sylus one last time before spasms hit as I come hard.

I squeal from Sylus' sudden deep thrust and bite to my neck as he too empties his load in my womb. Another thing he always does. Because of my job as a Hunter, I placed myself on birth control through Zayne but that doesn't affect Sylus' want/need of rounding my belly with his kids.

"Such a good fucking girl. . ." Sylus kisses his bite mark, proud of himself for leaving behind a reminder. "You squirted all over Zayne." Sylus chuckles as I look down with wide eyes to find Zayne covered in my juices, a thick string of it still connecting us. I look up to meet his eyes and he gives me a lazy smile.

"The most beautiful thing I've had the pleasure of being part of." Zayne speaks softly, his voice has an edge to it. His eyes trail down my body, stopping at where my slip falls to cover me when Sylus unwraps his arms from me. "Take it off."

Sylus wastes no time in my stead and I quickly raise my arms. He tosses it to the side and guides my arms back down, engulfing me into a self hug in his embrace. He breathes me in for a few seconds then he slowly unravels, pressing a kiss to my head before using my hips to gently remove me from his still erect dick.

"Come here, my little Snowflake." I can feel Sylus rubbing and gently pushing his cum back into me granting him soft moans. Once he's satisfied he gently nudges me forward and I nearly collapse onto Zayne but he's quick to catch me in a firm grip. "Aw, our sweet girl is tired?"

At the notion of not having Zayne inside of me I quickly shake my head, struggling a bit with shaky legs to crawl onto him. "No- No, please. I need you, Zay. Please-"

"Shh. There's no need to beg," Zayne's playful smile reaches his eyes as they crinkle in the corner and while staring into the comforting abyss of his irises I see his gaze slowly change as his eyes flicker between my eyes and lips. "Let me take good care of you."

He flips us similarly as I had earlier, only he cradles my head while supporting my back. His lips are slow and persistent against mine, I can taste his words. I love you's, I need you's- "I adore you so much, Y/N. This, with you both, means so much." He acknowledges Sylus, who is cleaned with a black towel resting across his waist as he sits against the headboard next to us.

His eyes are soft as he trails his fingertips along my scalp, inching his way down to brush them against Zayne's. While busy lining himself up, he slips his hand into Sylus' as he sinks inside.

"Hah~" His breath is warm against my open lips, soft moans sending him into a steady, needy pace. "Wanna fill you, my heart." His other hand struggles to find a spot to grip onto, over taken by my wet walls. I help him by guiding it to my breast, knowing that he loves to toy with them. Zayne catches on right away, placing a brisk kiss to my lips then trailing down to my neck. He nudges his nose near Sylus' marks then I feel his cold, wet tongue licking the area in prep for his own.

My entire body buzzes from their lustful craze. Both men are extraordinary when it comes to stamina in the bed and having to take them both tonight makes my pulse quicken, pussy clench, and toes curl. I want nothing more than to be completely theirs, forever and always.

"Y/N baby, I gotta move. Relax for me." Zayne's soft chuckle snaps me out of my haze and I blush, embarrassed from disassociating at a moment like now.

"I'm sorry-"

"Shh. . . Never be sorry for that, sweet girl. It's just- I need to release urgently."

I nod, willing myself to relax with a deep controlled breath and slowly I feel my walls loosen and Zayne twitches, grunting as his hips stutters forward, releasing a bit of precum. He presses a kiss to my temple then eases up into a kneeling position. I feel his thick cock slip deeper to my cervix sending a tingle up my spine.

Zayne is gentle and firm with gripping under my knees to push my legs back and onto his shoulders. He continues to rest inside while he leans into my left calf, pressing soft kisses and nibbles. When he hears my hitched breath and soft moans his hips start in slow, deep rolls.

My hands fly outwards to grip onto anything and my right lands on pining my right thigh to my chest while the other brushes Sylus' erect dick. He hisses and catches my wrist before I could do any damage, turning it to rub circles into my wrist with his thumb.

"Don't lose your mind just yet, Kitten." I know very well he's telling me to reserve energy for another round and with how deprived I've been I don't mind if they break me tonight.

I ease my wrist from his grasp and he allows me as I trail towards the black towel, flicking it with my fingertips to reveal him. He's warm in my palm as I struggle to grip him fully thanks to his girth. His touch to my scalp returns and anytime I grip him his fingers tugs deliciously. I try my best to keep with Zayne's thrust that have sped up, he's moved to my feet now, pressing kisses to my in-step arch.

"Fuck! Yes! There, please- Zayne!" I feel my stomach coil as quickly as it snaps, sending me into a quick intense orgasm. Sylus moves quick to kneel beside me, my hand slipping, as I watch him lean forward and grab the back of Zayne's neck. My eyes widen as he leads the flushed man towards him into a clashing kiss. For a moment they're still then Sylus leads the kiss, playing dirty tricks against Zayne to get him to open his mouth and lick into it.

I take Zayne's bruising thrusts and tight grip at my hip, feeling him swell and pump three hard times deep into my womb before spilling his seed. I feel warm, fuzzy and stuffed with cum. I whimper as he continues to rock into me with his soft hair brushing against my clit. Sylus' hand on his throat pushes him back from the kiss and Zayne's head droops as he sucks in air.

"Pull out." He listens and rests his hand on my tummy as he slowly pulls out trying not to bring his cum with him.

"Good-"

"Don't. Finish that." Zayne groans, gently pushing at Sylus' chest. He chuckles deeply, canines flashing as he leans in and steals a kiss from Zayne's cheek.

"Only if you promise to be just that."

And he does. They quickly understand each other as they work around my body for the rest of the night till Dawn.

1K notes · View notes

gangplanksorenji · 11 days ago

Text

An Ethical Consideration.

Pairing: IVE’s Yujin x Male Reader

Word Count: 9,124

A/N: The last fic of 2024. Been wanting to write some office-related stuff right now and glad I had the time to do so. Hope y'all like this quick piece of mine and cheers onto the next year ahead! <33

---------------------

The weight on her shoulders is the sum of her choices, and it bears the burden of being intact and to be precise eloquently. She’s often mistaken as a model due to her undeniably stunning pulchritude from head to toe as well as her clever mind that's just the cherry on top, and you can’t deny that, but the thing is, she’s a power lesser than you since you’re the more omnipotent one.

Your ego refuses to let her crumble down your defenses whenever you fall for her natural charms and whatnot, yet again, you can’t deny that. Mainly, it doesn’t help with the nature you have with her, always used to assert dominance.

Despite all of these egotistic approaches and hypocritical advances, you still treat her as a human because you’re not that cruel of a person, and even so, letting her be the first one to know what you have in plan for today.

“Schedules, again, Yujin.”

“All over? Today? To—”

“Yes.” You look at her, fixing your necktie with a stern stare that possibly intimidates her. “And yes.”

Standing a little awkwardly beside you, Yujin mutters each of your endeavors, an occupation that seems to strangle the concept of time.

“At 1 P.M., you’ll have a meeting with Mr. Kim and his colleagues, and that will take an hour and a half, presumably. Then, at 3 P.M., you’ll be in a—”

“Wait, wait, Yujin.” She gulps nervously with your words, possibly a little nuanced from what’s her usual demeanor until you chuckled a laugh.

“You are really something else, Yujin.”

She composes herself with her eye contact with yours, and you replied with a mutual action as your reassuring tone possibly relieves her. “W-What do you mean, sir?”

“Come on, I’m just playing with you—you don’t need to repeat it all but you’re just…” You look at her, from her doe eyes to her black heels, and then paint that smile you know that she always loves to see. “A different breed, I guess.”

Yujin smiles, knowing this is all a test and completely reassured. She continues assessing the paperwork lying on the desk and you watch her amusedly, clearly admiring her determination and this little interaction etches a note down your brain.

These are one of her struggles being your secretary, and it’s often making her question her every move nowadays since your mood is often played inside a Russian roulette. Yet on your side, it’s clear that you like to see the subtle anxiety in her eyes and your little, silly fantasies that possibly annoys her.

“Also, one thing, Yujin.” She looks at you, eyes full of anticipation.

“Yes, sir?”

“You can drop the paperworks.” You gesture it with your hands, a smile vibrant towards her even though it’s evidently simple, and she can’t help but feel relieved with your words. “Treat yourself a little, alright?”

A simple token of gratitude is what made her smile that gleefully. At long last, she won’t be worrying most times, beating herself into that stress that’s always inevitable whenever she’s in your vicinity but it doesn't eliminate the fact that she’s still incredibly doubtful.

“I don’t understand, sir.”

“I mean it, Yujin.” You draw yourself closer but not too much, then stare at those brown orbs of hers to make her feel the sincerity of your words. “Don’t worry for me, for now. Make yourself comfortable, okay?”

She nods and is clearly being reassured with your words. She thanks you for the little token of gratitude, bows at you and walks swiftly immediately, not before stopping on her tracks with her name coming out of your lips, her eyes intrigued. “By the way, come to my office later at 5 P.M., I’ll show you something and don’t worry, you won’t be in any trouble.”

Well, that doesn’t help her at all but your reassuring tone was the indicator, to say the least.

---

You’re just hoping she gets to use her time in the best ways possible, for every second should be worth her time, and you’re just waiting patiently for her and what’s bound to possibly happen.

Frequently checking your watch, you patiently wait for her as the rook takes your queen, near with your king and that’s another checkmate. You’re killing time playing chess online, and knowing you’ll still have some time to spare allows you to decide on this.

“Wow, he’s good.” You murmured as your focus is entirely invested onto what could be your next move as a knock on the door could be audibly heard.

“Come on in.” It’s enough to hear it, and there the figure goes into the room. There’s a high chance that Yujin’s the one that’s going to knock on the door at this given time, three minutes after the clock strikes five and damn right it is.

“Oh sir, I’m incredibly sorry—”

You snap and she shuts herself, eyes wide and a gulp evident. “Don’t apologize, Yujin—take a seat instead.”

Once she hurried to take a seat, you fixed your collar, and composed yourself to possibly intimidate her. Here it starts, and your choice of words reflects the outcomes that may happen.

“You really do surprise me sometimes, Yujin.” Your voice is so close to being unreadable that even Yujin takes a hard time to decipher it. She’s matching your disposition, and clearly anticipating more. “You’re still into those things that we used to do?”

Fuck. Something clicked in her, and she instantly knew the sole reason for her appearance here.

She still denies it, knowing there’s no evidence of the assumption but you know she’s back to her clandestine roots. “S-sir, I can assure you that I’m over whatever you’re possibly thinking.”

“Oh please, Yujin, stop with the lies—”

Knowing how retaliation with words and the defensive approach could absolutely result in anything going against her way, she would opt for an option that could possibly bear the best of outcomes. “Then what is it, sir? What’s this assumption all about?”

She’s slowly raising her tone, failing to cover up her permeating defensiveness as you gestured to calm her down, and let yourself be heard as she’s in clear of any trouble.

“Yujin, me personally—I’m just saying that I was genuinely baffled that you’re still into that.” Your words work like a charm, getting more loosened up as the soothing atmosphere really eliminates the fact that about denial and lies. “If it’s the others, you could’ve landed onto something hard on the surface but not for me.”

Her gaze fixated towards you with your last words, a smirl curling up your lips as you can see the comfort within her. Yet, there’s still a question lingering in her mind that she can’t contain any longer.

She gave up knowing it’s not worth it to put a nail on a coffin, yet rather, open it up. “How’d you know, sir?”

She's still anxious and it’s completely normal even with the possibly platonic relationship you’ve built with her because at the end of the day, you’re the one in control, a higher hierarchy. “Well, it’s quite simple, actually?”

There’s probably glint in her eyes, running up the possible reasons of a secret unshackled as her career is probably flashing before her eyes, knowing how your sugar coating is absolutely deceiving at most times. “How s-simple, sir?”

She’s stuttering but that didn’t stop you, and it’s cruel to know how bittersweet these events can get but you need to address it, and add a possible way to bring something back to life.

You push the seat away from you as you stand up, now going towards her and breaking that suspense that’s lingering right from the start when she steps foot onto your office. “Wonyoung reported me about your naughty desires when all eyes aren’t watching you, clearly moaning my name and still fantasizing about me, hm?”

Oh, the sabotage. You know how it can possibly hurt her to hear those words come out of your mouth, but that’s the truth and right when Yujin is coming to defend her actions, you pull up a trick on your sleeve that could easily dismantle her attempts to dismiss the truth.

The recording plays, loud and clear, her voice calling you lustfully and god, it’s breaking her, piece by piece.

“Wha—”

“It’s hard, Yujin—I know, but at least keep it within yourself probably, you know?” Now, you’re just hitting her critically, opposing the reassurance you enlightened her with earlier. She’s looking down, defeated and apologetic and you’re sympathetic with her vulnerable state. “Oh please, look at me, Yujin.”

You inch closer towards her, tilt her chin up, looking at you endearingly with a plea loud in each second she stares at you, as you continue. “Enjoy your break, Yujin. We’ll talk later for more. I’m clearly disappointed.”

You give her way towards the door as she stands up quickly, on the verge of tears, sniffling with a loud thud of steps. As she’s about to reach for the door handle, your voice interrupts her, feeling like a deja vu from earlier. “Clearly disappointed to know I wasn’t there to aid you.”

Those words struck hee like lightning, piercing through her like a sword as it hit too well, letting her feel rivaled and frozen. You walk towards her, a smile curling up your lips as she turns around with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean, sir?”

“You know what that means, Yujin.” Your hands are quick to pull her dangerously close toward you, making her yelp with your actions and she’s clearly processing what’s currently happening yet jovial knowing this could end up something elevated that what she was expecting.

You’re now facing her, nose a mere inch away as you whisper. “Now let me show you what you really need.”

God, it’s a sight to behold. You immediately pull her and latch your lips with hers, exchanging torrid pecks that define the hunger and deprivation between the both of you.

You’ve been in your cage for so long and for the longest time possible, you missed these moments with Yujin and you can’t let that opportunity slide. You tug onto the hem of her blazer as you admire her outfit, and teased with how it’s clearly against the dress code. “Feeling really stylish, as always.”

“Hope you liked it, sir.”

“I really do, Yujin.” Then, you continued with the sloppy exchanges, clearly savoring each second you latch onto hers as her plum lipstick accentuates her given scrumptious taste, letting you yearn for more and she reciprocates so swiftly.

It was a quick descent and possibly all according to plan, but you can’t deny the fact that a possible friendship can be ruined between such close friends, but for now, all these things are set aside as your focus is entirely averted towards Yujin.

One, two—fuck, she’s a great kisser.

And so are you, possibly.

---

These events really took a wild turn, and not even two minutes of such a lustful exchange, comes the comfortability of both parties, even descending down to the madness of lust, and the first victim that falls onto that is Yujin, clearly vocal about how she missed getting that taste of your succulent shaft.

“You really want to suck my cock, huh?” She can’t help herself with the thoughts in her, absolutely telling her to give in to her carnal desires and she does so.

Yujin just falls onto her knees, a loud thud audible as she can’t help herself but just be drunk with the thought of slobbering all over your length. “Please, sir—I need your cock—to taste it.”

“Wrong name, Yujin.” You tug her ponytail, earning a yelp from her as bites her lips, subtly liking the way you’re rough on her.

“Sorry, daddy—I just can’t help it…” And so, you gave her mercy, even with just the precious seconds left to spare.

You smirk, looking down and eventually seeing the lust behind those adorable, doe-like eyes that resembles how she’s undeniably ruinable whenever she pulls up this look.

“Oh, Yujin…” You lift her head up with a finger on her chin, chuckling as your sinister plans are starting to choreograph the possible actions you can do to ruin your secretary on your professional grounds as this can be considered somewhat ethical at your own words. “I’m going to make you choke all over my dick so bad that the only thing you’ll remember on the whole day we’re here is the taste of it, and mark my fucking words.”

Fuck. Yujin mutters and gulps, because your tone permeates sincerity and there’s no way on god’s green earth you’ll never fulfill those promises, not when Yujin is kneeling down so submissive and entirely begging to be sullied.

“That’s what I want to hear, daddy.”

The falling consonants escaping her lips ignites something within you, and you’re throbbing just hearing her voice being sultry, aching to be freed. You are unable to take it anymore, and Yujin knows how much you need to be relieved even if it gets so risky. “Do the honors, my Yujin, now.”

You’re really demanding, and she fulfills it within a heartbeat.

Yujin unbuckles and frees every bit of clothing that deprives her with the view of insatiability, hungry and yearning to get herself a hold of her desired prize. She’s swift and deft with it, hands skating through the confines like it’s nothing and that’s what you like about her—the lingering confidence that no one else can match, and she’s bold and audacious with a care towards you only. As selfish as that sounds, why would it matter when it’s Ahn Yujin that’s in front of you and possibly, worshiping you.

The last bit of defense, your boxers, and it’s going to be deemed useless as her hands tug on it and give you that submissive look. “Promise me that you’ll be rough for me, daddy.”

There are two reasons why is this extremely rhetorical: first, with a girl oozing with hotness and a body built to be ruined, how can you not think of something so ludicrous and utterly aiming to ruin her living life out of her; and second, preferably last, she always wants to be pounded and controlled to oblivion, putting in her place, just like the usual pursuits that sparks the risk.

“Always, Yujin—now get that lips on my cock now—want to feel it.” Again, it’s commanding and she likes it a lot.

The encapsulation of her lips around your purplish crown meets the inevitability of moans coming from your lips, her hot, wet flesh being too euphoric to handle. You can bear with the gratification, of course, but the way that she’s applying the pressure whenever her cheeks hollow and the plumpness her lips provide would like to have a word. It feels like your cock is made for her to suck, and she proves it with every second she spends her precious time with, a slobbering mess all over your length. She was quick to be messy, spit already seeping out of her mouth as she held your thighs for a support with her rapidly increasing pace.

“Jesus, Yujin—this hungry for my dick? Really this bad—fuck!” The question was quick for her to be registered yet she chooses to ignore it, occupied with the devotion of giving the utmost pleasure and fulfilling her needs of tasting you.

“I asked you a question, didn’t I?” You tugged her hair, a statement to consider as she pulls away from your saliva-sheathed shaft and catches her breath.

“Yes, daddy—I want y—mmh!” All you need to hear is a single yes to conclude the satisfaction within you and the want in her. She’s quickly muted with your sudden impalement, making her hands grab onto your thighs as she eagerly bobbed her head to prove that she can match your roughness. You grit your teeth, looking down at the sight of a lifetime, groaning with Yujin’s actions as her eyes gaze at yours through the reflection of her glasses, scanning your expressions to tell if you’re loving this or not.

Why would that be a question within her when you’re already moaning with her suction wringing the best bits of pleasure possible? Guess people have their own ways of assurance and Yujin’s ways are something you’d always commend—she always loves to ensure things even if it’s already confirmed to be certain.

When your tip hits the back of her throat, nose flushed onto your lower abdomen and her glasses slightly pressed, that’s when you uttered the hottest moans imaginable, feeling her oral assaults are a battery to invigorated the lust within you.

“God—fuck—how are you always feeling so good, Yujin?” You hands caress her ponytail as she ensues her pace, rightfully sullied then pulling out to state the rhetorical within you.

“Maybe because I’m a sucker for daddy’s cock, that’s why.” The choices of words were simple, yet hot and it’s the way that she delivers it too. Yujin flashed a smile before indulging onto your length again, stroking your base as her hunger speaks loud and clear, actions rapid and pleasurable.

The scene alone inside your office is something like in the pornogrpahic videos that tells the tale of fiction and what’s on the camera yet this is real, as the insatiability between the both of you drew towards this madness. Knowing that you keep your promises and wanting to make things elevated, you flashed a sinister smile before tapping Yujin’s cheeks poking with your length, and then she pulled out yet again, whimpering with the sudden depravity.

“What now, daddy?”

“I’m going to make a mess outta you, starting with this tight throat.” Your words are laced with lust and the venom that stings her to bite onto your commands, and eagerly anticipates what you’ll do next. You take a hold of your wet length and direct it inside her tightness yet again, groaning with how warm and pleasurable it is before grabbing her head with both hands and thrusting with an already moderate pace.

She wants it rough, right? Then you’ll give it to her, even if it takes to break you as long as you get to ruin her innocence and that existing class within her.

She gags when it hits too deep, yet she doesn't stop you, taming her reflex as you invite you with more, digging her hands onto your hips and urging to take what her limits can. She’s fighting you, closing her shut and tight as she takes you was the notion that she’s already reaching her limitations, yet this is not what you trained her for and she knows it.

Without further to do, you let yourself be the one to expand her horizons of the inevitable domination all over her, and this time, you’ll be berserk.

“Open your fucking mouth, Yujin.” You let her jaw be slacked, up for the taking as you relentlessly pound her tight throat, fulfilling your needs and deeply disheveling and leaving her sullied once she leaves the office doors. You pinch her nose, playing with the risky game between asphyxiation and god, she’s struggling and constantly gagging onto your rapid length.

“You always love my cock balls deep into your slutty throat, don’t you?” The mocking gets into her, nodding frantically as your words spill the truth, nothing even close on being a lie.

Yujin’s cheeks flushed red, struggling for oxygen as you let go, letting her breathe through her nose and with a pocket of relief, she took your whole cock with an invigorated stance, standing her ground and not letting herself break. You tug onto her ponytail, surprisingly still bonded even with your relentless pace and ruthless actions and it’s just a great element for leverage, elevating the ruined look she emanates all for your eyes to see, and the glasses she’s constantly wearing is just the cherry on top. She digs her fingers onto your thighs, spit seeping out of the crevices of her mouth and your cock, coating the vicinity of skin around your length.

She wanted this anyway, and you’re just warming everything up.

Her ruined countenance is a sight to be etched within your deepest lobes in your brain, for it’s something stupendous and incredibly monumental. She ruins her own clothing and gags repeatedly, yet it doesn’t matter because as long as you’re molding her throat with the shape of your cock, then you’d say you’re in a triumphant run of domination over Yujin. “Take it all for me, Yujin—god, t-this fucking throat is way too good.”

You can vouch and it’s incredibly factual. You’d want to just warm up your shaft for the magnitudinal display of pleasure that’ll happen later (and it’s going up her tight cunt) yet her throat and her lips would like to speak up, or maybe even adding up to the mess you’re making right now.

Pick a side, and you can’t, but you have to decide yet the pleasure coursing down within you is putting you in a position of indecisiveness.

You continue the ruthless assault against her mouth, chanting her name while you do what you’re best at and your sincere praises towards her is just the cherry on top. Usually, she would be writhing her arms with subsequent gags resonating all over the room but it's surprisingly and genuinely impressive how she takes you better now, yet not the perfected craft you sought her to be and you wouldn’t complain.

There’s also an additional element of lust that elevates the oral experience, and you cared to address that because of how hot it actually makes her, even more than what you expected.

“Not going to take those off, huh, Yujin?” You cool down your thrusts and let Yujin have the capability to control her pursuits, impaling her with more of what you can offer she pulls out to answer you, catching her breath and painting such a vibrant smile that contradicts the sexual tension lingering in the air.

Her mouth is utterly messy, saliva drips down to her chin as her insatiability towards you didn’t even bother the tiniest bit of modesty to even clean up. “I’d like to see how much you’ll cum knowing this does turn you on more.”

She knows. She fucking knows you. The way she said it so confidently with the smirk painted on her face says a lot, knowing that she’s just inflicting on the wounds of lust within you. She cracks the code open with your subtle kinks that’s profoundly known by her and immediately, she would live up to those fantasies of yours—it’s actually baffling how she knew your little fetishes that no one else can, and she’s absolutely clever reading you like a book.

“You know that I’ll probably destroy these glasses, Yujin.” The warning is audible, falling onto her ears as she continuously teases your tip with her tongue, before setting your insatiability aside and muttering up a reply.

“You probably can consider that you’ll fuck my mouth like it’s my cunt.” She’s not wrong, though, and certainly, that’s bound to happen. “And just so I know, you’re going to give me another set once these are broken because I’m something special, am I?”

It’s a blessing and a curse whenever she gets too cocky—her permeating confidence knowing her words exhibits the truth and it won’t help for your supposed reasonings, yet sometimes, her limits wouldn’t help her much, not when you still have the authority to be in control with a flick of a switch.

“Damn right it is, Yujin… You gave up and relinquished the truth, but you can’t wait up any longer for what’s the reason behind this sinful mess. “Now shut up and let me fuck your mouth.”

“Oh pl–mmh!” It was a mistake once she parted her lips enough to impale her with your cock, yet it’s all bound to happen and embraces every thrust your hips muster.

The opportunity is taken, instantly ravaging her mouth like it’s your last, tugging on her ponytail that’s holding on thanks with your vice grip onto it. She’s tearing up as you ensued and put her in her place, managing eye contact towards you with a silent plea laced behind those glinting orbs of her for more. She’s gripping your thighs, a leverage that’s still not enough for her to handle your roughness and god, her hands digging you for more tells exactly how she doesn’t want the pace to dissipate.

She’s crazy for this, and you’ll match that freak of hers.

It hits balls deep every time, her glasses almost slipping out and being crushed with your own weight of force being distributed to this sinful endeavor. She grasps your thighs like she’s bound to break, and you’re going to achieve that yet she’s robust and able to take you for she is capable of your pace even with the evident gags and subsequent grips that could probably bruise your skin.

Your pace never fails to bring her to the weakest, tears flowing down her cheeks as she indulges under your control and you’ll never falter, not when you had enough. The way her throat tightens up once you push your length deeper always sends yourself closer to the promising heights of euphoria and god, she’s just taking everything your hips oscillates. She’s just getting messier with every second that counts, yet she perseveres to prove her worth despite the apparent struggles.

And she delivers, every inch, every thrust, and every goddamn gag—

You pull out and she’s gasping for oxygen, her reddened face tells the story of your roughness and she just flashed a grin, her satisfaction fulfilled choking on a cock like yours.

“God, you’re so fucking messy, Yujin.” Your swears ignites something in her and it’s such a gem to hear profanities coming out of your mouth, because she knows she’s making you crazy and this was just the start of an exhilarating show. You wipe the saliva that escapes out of her mouth and seductively play with those lips of hers, and she knows what’s the reply of such display of lust.

She didn’t waste her breath to mutter a word, but rather, invest in constant hums as she sucks onto your fingers like a lollipop, enveloping that soft flesh and tasting like the sun won’t come up tomorrow. The voracious assault onto your fingers concludes her insatiability towards you, and she’s trying her best to live up to her desires and selfish pleasures.

As she’s incredibly readable, you could only imagine how soaked her cunt is with all of the lingering intimacy.

“God, please—more, daddy—please let me—”

“No.” You caress her cheeks and look at those eyes full of that lustful glint, preparing for what you could possibly do with her. Help her stand up and pin your arms so her back is pressed against the wall, your stare continues to pique her as it lures her in like a trap. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Yujin. Since you took me so well, I might have to consider something to aid your wrongdoings.”

A cunning smile paints you, as her eyebrows furrow in anticipation as her lust puppets her to desperation. “A-And what is that, daddy? Please, I’ll do everything even if it means more than what you can expect of me.”

“Expect? Hah.” A chuckle escapes your lips, and that puzzles Yujin. She’s laughable at that moment given how she’s mostly the epitome of fulfillment, the clear meeting of expectations. “Gladly enough, everything that I could think of links every missing piece so perfectly.”

That’s the beauty of An Yujin—clearly innocent yet determined for every obstacle that gets in her way, even if it means something unethical. But here’s the thing, you orchestrate what’s the order in this room and have the authority to bend what’s considered to be rightfully taken.

In this case, it’s something way too obvious.

“The question is: where do you want it, Yujin?”

Once those words were said, her eyes immediately averted to your throbbing cock, rock-hard just for her as her hand seizes the opportunity yet you stop her. “Answer me, Yujin.”

“Inside me—just as long as I can feel it, feel you, daddy.” Now, you’ve just broken her and it’s all with a single kryptonite that she always loves to play with and it never fails her to be driven towards insanity.

“Oh, you really want it, huh?” The nod is evident and desperate, and you’re just igniting the fire to tease her further. “Bend over for me, on the desk.”

“But the documents—” Maybe the addressing of concerns should take place in a completely separate hour or day as you don't care if they’ll get all tangled in a huge mess because getting Yujin railed from behind will be your utmost priority.

“I don’t give a shit, Yujin—we can rearrange them some time.”

“But daddy, it’ll be a—ow!” You’re fed up with her considerate actions because of your selfishness too, a grab on her wrists and a spank is enough to enlighten a statement within her.

Your eyes penetrate daggers through her, and it’s turning her on even more. “I really hate repeating myself, Yujin.”

You really do, and with the grip immediately loosening, she obliges and gets rid of such paperwork and bends over your main desk without any care but you.

“Better. Fucking better.”

You glance over the helpless, submissive stance Yujin is on, and you’re just running on the possible permutation you can possibly do with her. She holds onto each side of the desk while looking over her shoulder, eagerly anticipating what you have in store with you and you definitely have an abundance of tricks up your sleeves.

“Don’t look back and put your hands behind you, Yujin.” She’s quick and obedient, gladly compliant because this would definitely turn around worse for her if she wasn’t being one. You are quick to grab your belt and she knows what’s possibly going to happen, erratic breaths and chuckles coming out of her mouth are the signs of her building satisfaction.

“God, I always wanted to experience this while you ravage me senseless, daddy.”

“Great thing this is your lucky day.” You wrap your leather belt around her wrists and hold them in place, making sure that Yujin is as helpless as possible before the sinful act commences.

“Too tight?”

“Not really, it’s just right.” She yelps and cries because of a harsh spank as its hypnotic ripple earns that groan from her, deriving pleasure out of your enervating ruthless approach towards her ass. You raise the hem of her skirt up to her waist, and so are those grey-colored shorts just a little to get a delectable view of a backside that could be worth millions, and luckily enough, you’ll be the only to see the wonder of such treasure.

Your hands roam around her arched butt and those heaven-sent thighs, feeling the smooth, porcelain skin in every inch that just feeds to the hunger you’re having towards her but you have your own composure, a word of modesty and patience that Yujin isn’t bothering to have at these desperate moments. “You know this dress code isn’t really allowed, hm?”

“How so? No one has ever called me out wearing short skirts like these—oh god, right there…” She’s delving nearer onto her breaking point, moaning with your repeated assault towards her supposedly drenched lips through the frustrating fabric, teasing and building up her lust while she fights to be as eloquent as possible. “You n-never said a warning, daddy, let alone implement a rule or a ch—ow! Ohh, fuck!”

“All I’m saying is that you’re being such a slut for wearing one, just to summarize it for you, Yujin.” Your words sting as much as the heavy hits of your palm, marking a familiar rosy hue onto her ass that earns that triumphant smirk on your face.

“But I know you like it, by a lot.”

“Never said I didn’t.” You’re growing impatient because of the possible things that’s running around your mind, and it’s all about how you can totally sully her.

Your eyes darts onto her perfect skin, before tugging onto her shorts which is surprisingly easy to undress, coming off and onto her ankles just with a few seconds (Yujin standing up quickly also helps) and then the last bit of defense against the inevitability—those ruined, black silk thong that’s drenched with juices. Also, those come off and down on her ankles and all of those kicked to god knows where as she can’t help but moan with the sensitivity she’s currently feeling, and she likes being defenseless and being totally handled by you.

She never looked great being incredibly submissive and she’s perfectly built to be like this.

Amongst all of the foreseeable futures that could happen, one by one they are eliminated, until only three had made it to the final cut as these are the things that can go so right for the both of you: you could curse her satisfaction with your fingers teasing her tight cunt, on the edge of breaking apart and make her cum effortlessly; could invest onto some returned favor, your lips eating those succulent holes of hers as she writhes with the wetness you bring; and lastly (being the most cruel and pleasurable act you can possibly do), a finger, knuckle deep into her asshole and teasing her tightness with your own length.

Yet, with all of the articulative thinking, you can’t help but let your patience run thin and do what you promised earlier on—to let her see stars, ruin her entirely.

You nudge your cock onto her waiting heat, and immediately, you halt the agonizing reprieve as it is sheathed inside without a warning, knowing she can take it all despite her helpless state. At this rate, Yujin would be gripping both ends of the desk yet with the belt around her wrists and your hand holding her in place, she could just writhe and moan your name out uncontrollably as she gives everything in, and you control her.

Thanks to her slick juices, it wasn’t hard to accommodate yourself onto a moderate thrust that she grew accustomed to once you keep assuring and complimenting her, even if it comes out as a profanity.

“Not bad for a slut like you, Yujin—god, do you like this, hm?” You’re refraining to voice out how great she fucking feels around your cock, and let your mind savor the sight of her powerless figure dependent for your handling.

“Yes, y-yes—oh fuck, yes, daddy—it’s so good, so good!” Her strained voice, stuttering and alluring is what invites you for a harsher pace. The both of you are mutually gratified with each other’s actions, and you can’t help but groan her name too in every thrust you do, now filling her up.to the hilt and withdrawing with just your tip inside. It is hard yet moderately paced, just how you like it for now, and knowing how this possibly defeats what Yujin likes, you don’t want her to wail and break apart within your own eyes.

Wait, she is calling you and pleading with you—that’s the sign, she wants more.

“Harder, daddy—please.” Of course you’ll fulfill that as soon as possible. You pull the belt towards you, letting her hands meet your abdomen and pound her tight cunt with a power greater than before. Every clash of your hips to her butt resonates this sound that’s the epitome of candy in your ears, and it’s just going to get better, knowing that with the profound kisses you do on her nape makes her clench even harder and wringing out the best of all pleasures.

She cries and you hum onto her skin, continuously worshipping her as her moans with your repeated actions set the fire in you, as well as her constant compliments that you know would be inevitable.

“You lips—g-god, you kiss me so good, daddy—oh shit…”

Your lips are dangerously close to her ears now, as you whisper, “And you take me so well—this tight cunt is really for my cock.”

Well, it probably is, considering how every thrust molds to the shape of your shaft lives up to your words. She’s incredibly tight and slick, even with the constant ravaging and it’s just getting way better knowing that she’s not showing any signs for you to slow down nor stop, letting you go berserk on living up to both your likings. It’s possibly painful to know that your eyes can’t get that hypnotic sight of her thighs rippling and as much as you like kissing her backside, you can’t afford to lose an opportunity with an angelic view.

“Grab the desk, Yujin. I’m gonna fuck you harder now.” Now loosening the grip of the belt around her wrists, she immediately leveraged with a painful grip onto each end of the desk as you didn’t slow down and continued your igniting fervor. She’s trembling once she grabbed onto both ends, thighs shaking due to your actions as her mouth spills honey-filled moans with the pleasure spiking up on her spine, and through her veins.

Now, you have the everlasting sight to behold—the recoil of her skin with your thrusts is a vision to be etched within the deepest parts of your brain, and you’d live every moment seeing her like this. You painfully grip her hips, pounding her harshly to the point that the desk is even responding to your ruthlessness, but you don't care, not when she’s still coherent, able to walk and most of all, not cumming all over you.

These are just the multiple goals you'd eventually achieve, and it’s getting pretty near considering how her lips pulsate and drenches with copious amounts. She’s now creating a miniscule puddle onto the floor and the small rivulets on her thighs full of her nectar, and you’d eventually double that given how hard you’re fucking her and god, she’s crying and far from the An Yujin everybody knows.

“God, fuck—da-ddy, p-please—let me cum—let me cum, I’m s-so fucking close—oh god, oh god, p-please!” It continues like this, a jumble of words due to the skyrocketed pleasure she’s experienced and you know she’s dangerously close, and you’re just there to pull the trigger sooner.

She lets out a primal cry, and you seal her fate.

“Cum for me, Yujin.” Simple words yet enough to break a woman like her.

She’s practically gushing onto your fingers as you rub them out to reach her climax and she does so, spilling the borderline screams of pleasure that is caused by you, and she’s basically elevated way past her euphoric trance.

Her knees tremble due to her orgasm, and whisper onto her ear while still pounding her through it since she wanted this in the first place. “You know, Yujin—I would have just fucked your tight ass if we have some lube, want to see your cunt gushing out while I ravage your tight hole.”

You’re not yet finished and your words immediately made her clenched so tightly that it made you groan in the middle of your sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from enlightening her with your fantasies. “God—both of your holes are fucking tight—guess I’d just make this pussy cum all over again while you could only imagine how my cock would slide so good inside you, hm?”

Your words do make her squirm uncontrollably, a key to the door of madness as you didn’t waste time increasing the pace and getting back to the roots of how this goes. Knowing how much you want her to reach another inevitable high, you opted for a leverage on her end, offering your fingers for her to such as she eagerly does so, tasting you and humming in need as every second passes by. You make her choke with your own digits, and she slurps each time she does so, yearning to impress you and to voice out how much she loves these miniscule actions to fight against the pleasure.

“P-Please, daddy…” She cries for you, letting her catch her breath as your thrusts are constant, deep, and unforgiving.

“Say i-it, Yujin—please for what?” You need that answer escaping those sinful lips of hers, you need it desperately, even if her voice is broken for all of the vocals she bestowed.

“Fuck—f-fuck me, daddy, please!”

It’s the constant chant of the same sets of phrases and words and you can’t blame her, not when you’re absolutely fucking her like you do mean it. She can’t think straight, possibly seeing stars at this moment as her nectar spills into rivulets yet again, the mess currently spoiling the marble floor that didn’t concern you.

“My office is gonna smell like sex thanks to you, Yujin.” You let out that primal call, a satisfied one as her clenches aids more with the pleasure you’re currently experiencing. “And I’m—I’m fucking close, Yujin.”

The stream of constant moans ends up on a halt, as Yujin still has the coherence to think and break the loop of words, pleading as she tightens her grip on the desk. “On my face, please, daddy—you can’t cum inside me yet, not here!”

Oh, she now has this courage to utter words against your possible wants, and honestly, that’s commendable yet you didn’t like it and not when you’re in the peak of the hierarchy, in the absolute authority of things.

“And why not? Also, girls like you deserve a load inside their tight cunts, no matter what the circumstance.” No one could probably argue against you, not when her walls clench for you to fill her up, even though it’s against her wants yet again, you are the dominant one, the power to control and bend towards your will.

You didn’t utter a word and ramped up the pace again, and this time, you’ll do everything to feel every ounce of pleasure as much as possible. Yujin’s face contorts into that familiar countenance of being cock-drunken, yet you break that trance with a hand on her chin, making her face towards you and then again, you meet those luscious lips of hers that’s entirely insatiable.

You pull her close and continue to pound her tightness, humming on your reciprocation and her lips quivering in pleasure, chasing that high of yours that’s bound to spill into the depth of her tight walls. She tastes so great you can’t pull away just yet, closing your eyes and feeling how soft her lips are and when you do, you bring the final onslaught of thrust that’s possibly going to break her in half, moaning on how good you’re making her feel.

“Fuck—f-fuck, daddy—I’m gonna cum too—so close!” At long last, she’s a hair’s width onto her own high and being in the same boat as yours, and this couldn’t be any better.

“Fucking cumming again? Hah, then we’ll cum together then—gonna fill this pussy up so good, Yujin.” It’s surprising how coherent you are even though you’re as stimulated as Yujin but it doesn’t matter, not when your primal instincts are the ones that powers you to achieve that euphoria.

You dug your hand onto her hips, spreading her legs more to go deeper and god, you can’t possibly survive another set of thrusts on the count of five.

That familiar tingle firing you up was the call, and you impaled yourself deep into her snug walls, filling her with every spurt your slit can possibly deposit. She’s wailing, calling you and yearning for more as her brain can’t possibly fathom the utmost pleasure she’s experiencing and you’re just giving it all, giving what she desires right from the start.

She’s thanking you, a cry that could break you but in a different, unorthodox way that relies on the scope of lust. “Jesus—fuck, why are you always so goddamn tight, Yujin?”

It’s rhetorical and she knows it—she’s aware of what she can do to you, and even in a submissive frame, she can absolutely break you apart. You kept your length buried in her for a longer while, possibly extending the pleasure that’s beating your brain in a mush, and eventually, the inevitable could not be stopped. You pull out and let out exasperated breaths, admiring with the wonder of your roughness evident with your red handprints, and as the cherry on top, her cunt dripping with your anticipated load.

There’s still that gas left in the tank, a fuel burning and igniting for more and you can’t let it become idle.

“Thank—o-oh fuck—thank you for this, daddy…” Yujin’s chants are a constant ringing in your ear, her moans subsiding as she recovers from her own high, assessing how great you feel with your load deep inside her.

Your hubris never fails to fuel you up too, and you’re far from over.

“You remember me saying I’m going to fuck you rough, Yujin?” You’re demanding, incredibly primal and wanting more of what she can offer. She can sense it as she looks onto her shoulder only for you to guide her and flip her around, now facing you with your eyes evidently distracted with her leaking cunt. “And really mean it, because you're going to take more.”

Her eyes darted towards you, glowing, endeared, and laced with lust. She wanted this for weeks and now, she’ll get to feel your wrath once more, and this time, it would be way better than before since you’ll see how beautiful her face contorts whenever she succumbs to the pleasure, on even her moans to the very least.

It’s one of the robust parts of the pillars that builds up your concupiscence, and it’s the strongest amongst them all—her sultry tone says it all, and it’s just making you descend down to your own madness.

“Gonna breed me like the desperate girl I am, daddy?”

“Correction,” Your hands deftly find her waist, drawing her frame closer to you as she yelps with your sudden control, then smiles knowing she’s going to be put in her place. “A desperate slut.”

Yujin is still leaking, thighs stained in the right places with indistinguishable liquids caused by you and you’ll stand proud for the product you just made. Still with the skirt pulled up on her waist, you lifted her legs a little as she relaxes herself onto your desk—it’s pretty surprising how sturdy this is and probably, you’ll invest onto some greater furniture in the latter weeks, if ever—and teased your rock-hard shaft against those sullied, white-stained slit of hers, which earned another set of needy moans that’s clearly aphrodisiac in nature.

You’d never shut up how great she sounds, and you’re growing impatient by the second you tease her heat.

“Please, daddy—please put it in again…” Both of her arms extend down your shoulders, hands resting on your neck and caressing it, urging you to comply with her needs and she doesn’t need to plead more because you’re definitely in a losing battle of discipline.

Why would you even bother thinking of such a concept in this filthy endeavor? Yes, you won’t, and you’ll dismiss it.

It’s another sudden action, you buried deep, withdrew and slammed back in, repeating the harshness you bestowed upon her earlier but this time, you’re feeling everything and even better, see how pretty she looks when she’s blessed with the constant overwhelming pleasure. You grabbed her hips and impaled her deeper, your cum leaking repeatedly out of her tightness as it stained everywhere in its vicinity—you’d probably have this dilemma of cleaning your workspace once you’re done with her, but you wouldn’t care until she’s fucked senseless, her mind thinking of you and you only.

You’d intend on doing that, and with your stored-up strength, you’re able to lift her with your arms and pinned her onto the nearest wall where you’re in full pace on revving up your thrusts with abandon, letting out the most sinful moans of satisfaction Yujin can produce. You’re in the same boat as hers, utterly succumbing into the abyss of gratification and constantly grunting with how great she still feels, tight in the right places, possibly molding her walls onto the shape of yours.

It’s genuinely hard to comprehend her unparalleled tightness despite the pounding she took earlier and that’s just elevating the pleasure you experience as always, dismissing that sensitivity that once took over your length. You hold her frame with your hands on her waist, her legs wrapping around yours as you achieved greater depths that resonated magnitudes of different cries of pleasure. You catch her lips again, holding her chin upright as the both of you exchange torrid kisses, hungry for each other and utterly leveraging the unstoppable pleasure each of you brings to the table.

It’s the sound that she makes while making up with you, and you’ll never get tired of it, not when she’s dancing her tongue against yours, and attempting to mutter words that fail to be audible with how much you’re investing on dancing with her. Her legs instinctively pull you closer, and can’t help but groan against her lips on how much she clenches between every thrust your hips muster.

“Are you getting close again, Yujin?” Your breaths come right after, clearly anticipating on achieving her ultimate prize once again, letter her see stars let alone galaxies with how much exertion you bring onto pounding her. Her legs are falling limp, tired with the monstrosity you’re doing but neither of you will have any regrets, and the closest thing to have a thought like that is if someone sees you and there’s no world anyone would have an eye of a trusted, hierarchical man of the company ruining her secretary.

Oh, curse these ethical bullshit and your reputation, because you’ll fulfill your utter desires before you can call this a day.

“I can’t h-hold–oh fuck—so good! Can’t hold it anymore, daddy…” She’s just desperate for another release, and you’re inching closer towards your promised land. She’s bound to feel something so euphoric, and it’s all mutual, even up to the point where you fill her up to the brim. You’re gaining every ounce of strength to wrap herself around you and a bright idea sparked within you despite all of the thoughts within you spiraled up, all tangled and in haywire.

Before the unexpected detour, she could just moan onto your neck, resting her head against your shoulder and chasing her high, messing up the floor and your thighs with her succulent nectar. Your workplace being stenched with the smell of sex will be the least of your concerns in this current affair, but rather the fact that you can’t see a pulchritude broken into something sullied, and your mind currently emptied, just with the thought of making herself her own canvas.

“What—what are you d-doing?” Yujin is limp once she stands on her feet, messed up thanks to you as her puzzled face is evidently confused with what you’re having it in your mind. Still recovering and gaining that semblance of urgency, she anticipates what you’ll utter and it wouldn’t be long.

“Remember what you said earlier about your favorite pair of yours?” Even with the stupor clearly shown, she’s still articulative and bright, grasping with what you’re trying to make her remember and just flashing that innocent grin with the thought of it.

“Oh god, yes.” She’s quick with it, instantly dropping down onto your knees, legs quivering as she looks up at you, her eyes glistening with what you’re going to shower her with. “Would like to see my favorite pair covered with your cum, daddy.”

God, she knows, she fucking knows.

You didn’t hold back, and she’s sticking her tongue out and closing her eyes, letting her imagination roll upon what could be the most erotic sight that could happen between the both of you. It’s turning you on even more, clearly focused on chasing your high with the velocity your wrists are doing and eventually, it wouldn’t be long enough for her to be deprived of it.

It’s a decent shower, not excessive but god, it’s just right. Her messy bangs got caught off on the process, a little stained and you did what you could to seal the promise, her nose, mouth, chin and most importantly, the scaffolding of her glasses, stained with that white liquid that’s drained out of you.

To be honest, you clearly forgot the existence of such an element, but glad you’re able to cover it and fulfill her needs.

“Fuck—god.” Yujin’s breaths are erratic, still kneeling down and scooping the remnants of your cum and tasting, undeniably satisfied with the outcome. “Considering the load in my pussy, you still came a lot.”

It’s still surprising how she sounds so confident saying such sinful words, but being still in the trance, you wouldn’t mind it so much. “Dropping the names, huh?”

“Oh, sorry—”

“Hey, hey, it’s totally fine, Yujin.” Still managing to display humor, she laughed it off in relief, dropping the act and exchanging exhausted breaths in every second that counts.

“Well, I guess we should clean up, sir.” You help her stand up, legs trembling as she laughs it out and reassures you that everything is going to be fine.

“Yeah, we should, I’ll call up my—”

“No sir—” Her hands stop you from grabbing your phone on the desk, unharmed, and you’re painting shock with her actions.

“Why?”

Yujin stares at you, removing the cum-stained glasses and onto the desk and you can clearly see what she’s made of, a monster in the making. “Just us, please, sir—at your place.”

That’s a bold move, but considering what happened, it wouldn’t be much of a deal as you drop the hierarchical advantage you possess. “There’s still another hole you haven’t stretched yet.”

The wink was the cherry on top and you swear to god, this girl will break you, possibly into millions of pieces more.

You need to fix yourselves up first, and with the obviously influenced and hurried decision, it was damn sealed in the history books.

“How can I resist that?” Your chuckles reflect your masked answer, and clearly, she knows what’s bound to happen. “Guess tomorrow’s going to be your day off then.”

She broke you, and it’s mutual between both parties. Possibly, the threat of a tension between Wonyoung and herself would break apart with this profound comeback of such roots yet who knows?

These hours have been stressful and quick, but nonetheless, absolutely phenomenal and baffling…

#ive smut #ive x male reader #ahn yujin smut #ahn yujin x male reader #yujin smut #yujin x male reader

1K notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 7 months ago

Text

Dreaming of You

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,100+, 1,700+, 1,700+, 1,400+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Dracule Mihawk

Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader, swearing, masturbation, dub con (Using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, feelings, all individual 'x reader' drabbles, same reader!insert different outcome, chop-chop fruit shenanigans, angst, romance, smut, kissing, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Dreaming of You Masterlist Here, Please read the warnings. I am having a lot of fun with this series, but this one got away with me. They're only meant to be silly little drabbles between larger fics. Sorry for the lengthy read! Enjoy playing the part of a marine spy for Cross-Guild!

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @lostfirefly

Hips pressed against one another, huffing pants and gasps were collected in one another's lips and skin as he pinned your back against the wooden wall behind the burgundy curtains of the tent door. Legs collected over his hips, he held your left thigh in his right hand, his forearm caging you by slotting up between your right shoulder and the cool surface.

Lusting and passionate, he drew intentional thrusts that were slow and deliberate enough to brush at your g-spot and mold your pussy to the contours of his thick cock. He slacked his jaw, his eyes swimming with emotion as he ground his pelvis against your clit with every heavy thrust.

Your voice whimpered for him, stifling your mewls of pleasure by biting down into his shoulder and crying as he bullied his cock into your needy pussy. He groaned with you, rocking his cock in slow, languid thrusts up into your body.

“Please,” you begged him, desperately clawing at his back and peppering his shoulders, neck and jaw with enthusiastic kisses, “We don't have long until the others come back.” He growled at your words, offering you a particularly mean thrust forward and a cruel bite against your neck.

“A-Aah!” you gasped in shock, biting your lip and digging your nails into his shoulders harder. He sheathed his entire length greedily into you, his shaft twitching in bliss the moment he felt his blunt tip brush your cervix. His hips stapled yours against the wall he was bullying you against.

“I don't care if they hear,” he barked against your neck, tracing his tongue over the bruise forming from his bite, “I don't care if they see.” He pulled back his hips only slightly before immediately propelling himself forward and forging his body against yours like soldering iron to a hot blade.

“Let them hear,” he admitted, huffing against your neck as he rocked his hips into yours, removing his hand from hooking around your thigh to grip your neck and bring your gaze to meet his. “Let them see.” He plastered your parted lips with his own, desperate with tongue and teeth as he released your neck to hold your thigh once more.

“I want them to hear,” he groaned into your mouth, rolling your cheek with his chin and kissing down your jaw, “I want them to see.” He trailed his needy kisses down your neck as he doubled his effort and sped up his rhythmic thrusting.

As your core sucked him in each time he retracted, his mind was lost to him and was filled with primal desire. He needed them to hear your sweet moans and whimpers. He needed them to see who was making you feel this good. He needed you to know who you belonged to.

“Say you're mine,” he growled, his lips mouthing up your neck, over your jaw and to your cheeks, “Say it.” He sped up faster, his cock hammering into you with every cruel, frenzied thrust. His hair was sticking to the dewy sheen of sweat against his forehead and neck, his brows furrowed as he glared into your eyes with an intensity he had never felt in life prior.

“Say you're mine,” he barked at you, commanding you to fulfill his desires as his cock twitched within you. Your walls beckoned him closer, the thump of your ecstasy wringing his cock as he pistoned it within you had him desperately whimper and whine your name.

“P-Please say you're mine,” he implored you in desperation, his fingers clutching your thigh in a heaping fistful as he continued to chase your mutual highs, “Tell me. Tell me your mine, and I'll be your slave.” He begged, kissing your lips and panting through his thrusts, “I'll be yours. Is that what you want?”

He chased your mutual high faster, rocking and pummeling into you with his heels digging into the floor. His belt buckle jingled atop his pants pooling at his ankles, your own pants discarded beneath you long ago. Leaning down, he took your peaked nipple into his mouth and rolled it over with his tongue.

A string of saliva attached from his lips to the puckered bud when he pulled away, huffing and panting at the lustful display of your breathing hitching. Body bouncing in sultry ripples with each thrust, he groaned as he felt his abdomen tighten with a familiar call of his imminent release.

“Yes,” you whispered his name suddenly, clutching his neck and carding your hands through his hair, “Yes, I want that. I want you-...” You whined his name as he pistoned his length deep within you, “Please, I'm yours. Only yours.”

He growled his pleasure at hearing your words into your lips, tongue lapping with yours and his hair brushing against your forehead. You hastily tugged him away from your lips by gripping the scruff of his neck and pulling hard.

“W-What? Why are you-?” He began, his words halted by the intensity of your gaze. Your lips were parted, face flushed from a higher rise of hazy temperature, and skin forming lustful bruises and mapping his treasure with his marking kisses.

“Make me yours,” you gasped at him, panting as your lust eclipsed your eyes, “Cum in me. I want it. Need it.” His eyes widened, and his jaw fell slack as his hips staggered their vicious thrusting deep inside you.

“Fuck, I-I’m gonna-...” His abdomen tightened further, his eyes glowing black with luminescent lust as his seed spilled inside you with hot spurts, “I'm cumming-... hhah-... I-I’m cumming…f-f-fuck-...” Rope after rope of translucent cum released within your walls, the rhythm of your own ecstasy milking him with squeezing grasps on his throbbing cock.

You called his name, throwing your head back as he trailed his eyes over your skin with adoration within his bliss. He couldn't get enough, reaching forward to collect your lips beneath his in a scorching mess of lips, tongue and teeth. With a desperate kiss to mold him against you completely, he forged an unspoken covenant to ensure you knew you were his and he was yours.

Opening his eyes, the image of your blissed out afterglow faded from his vision. All that he was met with was the ornate ceiling in his bedroom, his cock twitching through the final waves of untouched pleasure.

“No,” he growled, removing his duvet with his right hand and glancing at the lustful dance his swollen cock twitched with. A last spurt of cum spilled from the glossy slit and he immediately thrust the ruined blanket on top of his stomach to shield it from his sight.

“Fuck.”

Sir Crocodile

He balled his right fist, slamming it into the mattress beside his hip with a rumbling growl in his chest. Inhaling deeply, holding it for a few seconds, and exhaling slowly had him assess all that occurred to him with his night vision moments ago.

“Please say you’re mine. Say you’re mine and I’ll be your slave,” his own voice echoed in his mind, “I’ll fall to my knees and worship you in all ways. I’ll treat you like the deity I know you to be, showering you in praise and praying at your altar. Please.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered with half-hooded lessons, “I’ll only ever be yours, Sir Crocodile. Only yours.” He snapped his eyes awake, clenching his jaw impossibly tight and drawing his brows down in fury.

“I begged?” he snarled, reaching for a cigar and his flint-lock lighter, “I begged to claim you as mine?” He clicked his tongue before biting down on his cigar, lighting the end with a small flame and sucking in a sour lungful of smoke, “Utterly ridiculous.”

Pulling the duvet away from his lap, he growled at the sticky ooze pooling at his abdomen before squaring his shoulders and walking to the adjoining ensuite in his master bedroom. The Cross-Guild tent did not have many luxuries, but he refused to go without simple pleasures while working with the disgusting clown.

A bath was one such pleasure Sir Crocodile would not live without.

Running the water, he dropped each foot into the tub and sighed out at the contact of the freshwater rising to his thighs. The heat and steam eradicated his shame from his abdomen without much effort, melting it down and washing it away beneath the water. Groaning, he looked to his absent left hand and gazed down at the scarred stump.

“We don’t have long until the others come back,” he heard your voice echo within his mind, drawing himself back to the dream and causing him to grimace in annoyance. He circled his palm and fingertips over his left forearm and molded the flesh within a firm grip.

The pains on his phantom limb had returned, his mind racing and attempting to draw up distractions by any means necessary. Your midnight illusion was simply the latest commodity to preoccupy his attention with lustful desires, is how he rationalized such a shameful intrusion.

He was a fourty-six year old man, not some prepubescent teenager so consumed with the need to fuck that their minds dreamed it into an untouched and sticky reality. The pain intensified, his teeth clamping in a rough hiss as the illusionary throb of his hand caused him to shake his arm from his grip.

This was going to be a long and tiring day.

At the meeting, he was being short and harsh with anyone and everyone to cause him displeasure. His teeth snapped barks, his chest rumbling his fury and his hair was beginning to become disheveled. The clown was aggravating, and the swordsman’s silence was not as refreshing as it was under usual circumstances.

His right hand only ever left his left forearm for the chance to draw up a cigar, yet the sour smoke did very little to soothe his pain, and his hand only seemed to make the intensity of the throbbing worse. As Mihawk and Buggy stood to leave the room, he remained behind and he finally hissed out a lengthy growl behind his clenched teeth at the pain.

There was not a sound in the room, a slight ringing in his ears as the pain reached his head and dizzied his mind. Eyes scrunched tightly shut, he had no context for a gentle touch on his hand over his forearm until he snapped his purple eyes up to meet with yours.

“Allow me, Sir Crocodile,” your smile illuminated your face, gently suggesting with your touch to remove his right hand from his left forearm. He attempted to fight the urge to bark at you, snap at you and give in to his desire to have you touch him.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, Marine?” he growled, eyes narrowing and lips curling up into a deep snarl, “Who gave you the right to touch me-?”

“Oh, shut up. You've been horrendous today and I refuse to have this continue to be cause for your disgusting attitude,” you bit back, your own lips pulling back to reveal your snarl, “Let go of your arm and let me help you, damn it.” He immediately dropped his arm in favor of gripping your neck in a tight choke, bringing your face closer to his.

“You dare to give me orders, Marine?” he roared at you, your teeth gritting back the pain and glaring into his eyes. “I was a former warlord, little spy. Now I hunt and kill your kind for a living.” As Sir Crocodile monologued, he remained ignorant of your hands working to find the clamps of his prosthetic hook and releasing the golden cover from his arm.

“And now you touch me, spy? Offering me what, exactly?” he continued monologuing as you removed his hook and rolled up his embroidered sleeve. The pain in his forearm was so intense he could barely feel any relief of tension come from releasing his limb from the confines of his hook. “How are you going to help-... A-ah!” He gasped, his brows tugging up in the center of his forehead as he glared at you.

Immediately releasing your neck, he looked down at his bare forearm within both of your hands and bit back a whimper. In his own grip, his scarred forearm felt hot and throbbing beneath his cooler temperature. In your warmer hands, his arm felt encased in an encumbering embrace like hot stones sizzling on a damp surface.

Your thumbs traced the contours of his muscles, dipping between his bones and rolling his muscle between your fingers. The heel of your palm added a tight pressure to his ache, his breath coming out in rough pants the longer you held him in a tight grip. His eyes softened, his scowl loosening from anger to pain.

Hissing and panting, an uncharacteristic whimper fell from his lips as you silently focussed on working the flesh within your skilled grip. Circling your thumbs and contracting your hands, you instructed him with calming and soothing words.

“Deep breaths now,” you whispered in a slow and intentional hum, “In when I squeeze, and out when I release.” He nodded his head, feeling the soft roll of your hands over his skin. As you tightened his grip, his chest expanded with a lengthy inhale and exhaled as you withdrew.

Repeating that motion, he felt the tension in his mind begin to release him from his illusions. Focussing on your movements as your voice soothed him with each direction, he didn’t expect his emotions to overcome him at such kindness. Your hard contractions over his arm eased up, your fingertips tracing the scars on the vacant nub and causing his flesh to tingle beneath it.

“Better, sir?” halting your soft motions, you gently placed your hand on his forearm and held faint pressure over his skin. Reopening his eyes, he felt tangible relief wash its way over his face. Gazing into your eyes, you held nothing but empathy and gentleness in your twin orbs. He leaned down over your face, bringing contact between your two foreheads and offering you the slightest of smiles.

“Why would you do that?” he whispered in an uncharacteristic soft voice, “Touch me like that? Offer me such kindness after all that’s occurred between us?” He raised his right hand and cupped the back of your head in a firm grip to hold you against him.

“You didn’t kill me the moment I stepped into the red tent,” you smiled warmly at him, “Nor did you kill me any day thereafter.” Giving his arm another gentle squeeze, you glanced down at his missing limb and offered him a melancholy smile. He growled at your confession, searching your eyes for a further explanation. You huffed out a sigh, smiling further with a soft twitch up your cheeks.

“I used to do this for my friend back at the marine base,” you offered him a glimpse at your history with your explanation, “Did it all the way up until the day she died. Said something about my hands feeling warm against her skin, different to her own temperature. Soothing.”

He chuckled at that, nodding against your head and closing his eyes shut in momentary bliss. That was why you felt so good on his skin, your skilled motions causing him aid and relief. You have done this before, and were offering it freely to him.

“Oh?” he asked, his smile tugging at his cheeks and elevating the scar over his face, “And did she manage to say what she did without you by her side to aid her?” You laughed at him, breaking away your contact from his forehead and scrunching up your nose playfully.

“I was always by her side, sir,” you confessed to him, nodding as you spoke, “She and I were inseparable, even in cabin quarters.” He nodded in understanding, looking down to his limb and back up to your eyes.

“Well, if that’s the only solution for the pain I’m encountering,” he uttered, his lips curling into a wide smirk, “I would see you gather your personal effects and move into my cabin beside the tent, immediately.” You laughed at him, rising from his side and beginning to leave the meeting room.

“I hardly think that would be appropriate. Don’t you agree, sir?” you question him, collecting your bag from the circular table in the center of the room. As you moved to leave the tent, a strong forearm snaked around your chest and grasped your shoulder, tugging you firmly into a broad chest.

“Wasn’t a suggestion, Marine,” he whispered into your ear, the smooth rumble of his voice shooting tingles up your spine and causing you to gasp. “You’re mine now. Hear me?” He grazed his lips over your cheek and down your jaw in a slow motion.

“Mine.”

Buggy

“Oh, what the fuck?” his nasally voice huffed, his makeup free face flushing with a hefty sprinkle of dark blush, “You’re fucking kidding me.” He reached down to his cock and fisted it in a pistoning motion.

“Had to be you, didn't it?” he cursed your name in a pouty snarl, “The fucking spy.” He swirled his cock in his palm, growling at it before he simply detached it with his balls and brought it up to his face. He frowned in a deep scowl, drawing up his heckles as he began chastising his cock.

“C’mon, man! How could you do this to me?” He growled at his cherry-red knob, choking it in his fist, “You think this is fucking funny? You think I want to see ‘em like this?” He drew up his other hand and slapped his knob, his pelvis wincing in response.

“Out of bounds,” he berated his cock, “The spy is out of bounds. You know the spy is out of bounds.” He pinched his knob, choking it and only making his pleasure heighten. “N-Nnngh-... Not for thinking about, not for trying to fuck.”

He whimpered, his priorly ruined orgasm still gluing his duvet to his stomach. He growled, hocking a wad of spit behind his lips. He spat on his cock in an attempt to degrade himself further, only leading to lubricating his ministrations and causing him to throw his cerulean colored hair back into his plush pillows in bliss.

“Hhah-... The spy is not for you, you fucking idiot,” he gulped his confirmation, his cock thrusting itself in his fist beside his head as he frowned at it, “Think about something else,” he closed his eyes, meeting the thrusts of his cock with his hand as he tried to think about anyone else he could sheathe himself in.

“Buggy, I-I’m gonna c-cum-,” he heard your voice whimper at him, his cock twitching in his hand beside his face, “Buggy, please can I cum?” He shook his head, attempting to picture anything else. Faceless breasts bouncing, ripples of an ass jiggling, parted lips panting and huffing with eyes scrunched shut-... Your voice calling his name with adoration pouring from your lips like honey.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, shaking his head and attempting to go back to the earlier images. He only pictured your hair, your skin, your perfume, and your lips behind his eyes. Those lips used to spell secrets, split in a perfect ‘O’ as he pictured you slicking his cock up in your needy cunt with your erupting ecstacy milking him of his heaping load.

“Fuck! No, no, no, no, n-oooh!” He threw his cock away from his face to not shoot himself in the eye with his release. It spattered the wall in a secondary wave of sticky cum like a grenade exploding on impact. “Nnnngh-... F-Fuck. Fu-uck-... C-cumming-.” His abdomen contracted as he rode the remaining waves of his orgasm untouched and unstimulated.

Ropes of guilt shot out of his small slit and coated the wall and floor in a sticky pile of pearlescent cum. He groaned your name, huffing and panting as his hips bucked up in an attempt to stimulate his detached cock.

“N-... No…” he whimpered, bringing his palm up to his face and clapping it over his lips. “Not the spy. I can't-... I can't have the damn spy. They're a bloody marine, you fucking idiot,” he degraded himself further, rising from his bed and wiping his abdomen of the solidifying globs of sticky cum with his duvet.

He reached his cock, staring at it as it looked like a pathetic, slobbering drunk as it lay in a pool of its own drool. He clicked his tongue at it, picking it up and dusting it off before reattaching it to his pelvis. Readjusting his balls, he found his red jumpsuit and messily thrust it over his body in one swell motion. Instead of throwing his arms through the sleeves, he tied the material around his waist and offered to remain shirtless.

“Not the spy,” he whispered to himself as he exited his ornate living quarters at the Cross-Guild base. Making his way to the kitchen, he was halted by a soft hum reverberating around the room.

A familiar somber tune painted the air with its melody, his eyes shutting and the corner of his mouth ticking up as he listened to the lyrics. Stepping into the room, he attempted to mask his nerves with his signature mischief written on his face.

As he drew his eyes over your features, your back facing away and staring out the window by the sink, he couldn't help but have the mask of protection slip away. Your lips whispered the lyrics, your heart carried the tune. You were not in your marine uniform, nor were you adorning the attire Sir Crocodile purchased for your protection.

You were dressed in simple, gray-coloured slacks that hung loosely around your hips. The top you were wearing was a cropped t-shirt with his Jolly Roger printed on the back. His lips parted in shock as he drank you in, listening to your soft singing and closing his eyes to experience it fully.

Before he could manage to say a word to reveal his presence, your hums ceased and your voice lowly uttered your apologies.

“Sorry, Captain Buggy,” you bow your head to him in greeting, “I was not assuming the three of you to be awake so early. If I bothered you with my noise, I apologize.”

“N-No bother,” he huffed your name and hastily gave his reply to you with a soft blush, “I-... I haven't heard that song since the old days. Way back when-... When Roger…” He trailed off, looking at a point just beyond your hips and against the sink beside you.

“I love the old shanties,” you chased his gaze with your own, angling your chin down and attempting to pry his eyes up to meet yours, “They're either about drinking, fucking, or grieving.” Buggy met your gaze, grinning up at you with his teal eyes beaming.

“Ah, two of my favorite pastimes,” he added his commentary, leaning in closer and a cheeky smile pulling at his cheeks, “I’m not one for fucking.” He shot you a wink, prompting you to laugh at his joke. Your laugh was music, each soft teeter was as radiant as a lilt from heavenly minstrels. After teetering off your laugh, he offered you a soft smile with his eyes wide and curious.

“Would you mind…?” Buggy trailed off again, nervously clutching the back of his neck and cringing through his smile, “...Could you perhaps tell me why you decided to join us, again?” He released his hand from his neck and darted his eyes between yours.

After taking a moment to collect your breath and mull over what it was he asked of you, shrugged and offered him a simple answer.

“The Berry is good, and it’s mutually beneficial,” you nod at him, smiling with your answer, “You were the one who offered me a choice, remember?” Crossing your arms, you leaned your hips back on the sink and glared at him, “It was either: spy for the marines as a triple agent for your Cross-Guild with a livable wage, or have Crocodile or Mihawk take my head. I chose you, Captain.”

As Buggy was reminded of his prior actions and offered you a sheepish smile in response. Stepping forward, he reached for your forearms and waited for you to flinch away or chastise him for such a soft gesture. In the wake of such a softness, he was pleasantly surprised when he felt your fingers interlace with his own and hold them beside him.

“You know, ‘m sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled, looking to his toes and pouting his unpainted lips, “Didn’t mean t’ have it sound so bad.” You smiled in response, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze and angling your chin down to look at his uncovered fingers.

“You know, you’re actually quite handsome,” you confessed in a breathy whisper, “The infamous Captain Buggy D Clown, genius jester, king of fools, and calamity of chaos.” You named his titles with a soft smile, looking up into his rainforest-colored eyes with such gentleness.

“You-... You think I’m handsome?” He asked you, your soft laughter prompted his own to slip freely into the air. You unplaced your right hand from his left and cupped his cheek within your palm, running your fingers through his hair.

“You’re usually dressed in makeup, with your long hair tucked under your hat,” you collected a strand between your fingers and rolled your thumb over the lengthy blue locks, “And, you usually don’t have this much skin revealed.” Looking down at his chest: his messy blue hair trailed down his chest, tapered off at his stomach, and picked up again like a cerulean trail leading to the assumed treasure beneath his red jumpsuit.

“I’m not used to seeing this much of you, Captain,” you muffled, drawing your gaze back up to his with a rapidly broadening smile, “And I’m not mad about it.” Your eyes creased at the corners as you offered him a toothy grin in response to his vibrant blush.

The hue of his cheeks rivaled that of his nose and jumpsuit, his eyes almost weeping from the rapidly rising blood pooling in his face. His Adams apple bobbed at the compliment, gulping back a dry pit in his throat and swallowing it.

“Y-You know,” he stuttered, chuckling to cover his nerves and squeezing your remaining hand in his in two short motions, “I… I take back my earlier sentiment, uh-... If you’re interested?” He continued stuttering and choking on his words as he clumsily cartwheeled around his intentions.

“Oh?” you smirked at him, raking your fingers through his hair and darting your eyes between his, “And what was your earlier sentiment again, Captain?” You trailed your fingers down to the end of his lengthy locks.

He gulped his terror and humbled himself by offering you a short, huffed laugh. After taking a moment, his eyes twinkled in mischievous hope as he rejoined your eyes in a smiling gaze.

“I am one for fucking…”

Mihawk

Amber eyes stared in horror at the ceiling, wide and unblinking as he replayed the final moments over and over again in his mind. He drew his right hand down to grasp around the steel girth of his deflating cock and wield it in his firm grip.

“I want that. I want you, lord Mihawk,” You whined his name as he pistoned his length deep within you in his mind's eye, “Please, I'm yours. Only yours.” His breath hitched in his throat, his eyes twitching but remaining staring vacantly at the ceiling. Thumbing over the prior release, he hissed in agitation the moment his fingers collected his viscous eruption.

“How fatuous,” he snarled, raising his duvet once more from his waist, “So puerile.” His face remained vacant, his eyes holding only a touch more agitation than his usual persona as he walked to his ensuite shower. Turning the taps, he didn’t wait to feel the rise in water temperature.

Stepping into the freezing water, he made no reaction as the icy liquid pelted at his skin; not even blinking to dampen his rapidly drying eyes. The water began to elevate in temperature as he released his cock from the grip. Gathering his sandalwood soap bar in his hands, he began lathering himself in foamy suds and washing over his body with his shock and shame still evident on his features.

The only time he closed his amber eyes was when he washed over his face, scrubbing at his whiskered chin and massaging his cheekbones. As soon as his eyes closed, he only saw your face contorted in pleasure, your ethereal moans freely haunting him in his ears. Shaking his head beneath the water, he only saw your face and imagined your hands clawing at his back beneath the water.

Horror and shock eclipsed his eyes upon reopening, his eyes remaining that way as he concluded his shower, dried himself off, applied his cologne and skin care products, and dressed himself in his pants and greatcoat. His fingers stuttered over the lacing on his outer greatcoat, his lengthy necklace almost choking him as he placed it over his neck.

Almost stumbling into the dining space, he searched in his mind for a reason something so juvenile could occur for someone of his age, standing, and stature. He had gone for so long without taking a lover, he barely felt any lusting urges overcome him anymore. It didn’t suit his routine, his monotony, or his lifestyle as a former warlord.

His apathetic and bored stature coming from a place of loneliness in his sovereignty as World's Greatest Swordsman. His achievements were already so vast, and he had nobody to share them with - nor a desire to begin a courtship with someone akin to his title. He had no time to take a lover, no time to indulge in whoring as it took away from his duties tending his garden in Kuraigana, and his bounty collecting as Marine-Hunter for Cross-Guild.

So, why did his mind replay your pleasure over and over again in a loop of falsified memory? The marine spy, the confidant to cross-guild, the whispering oathbreaker; all the titles he sought to bestow you with. His hands reached for the bottle in front of him, clasping the green glass in his hands and uncorking the waxy tip. Pouring the rouge liquid into a crystalline glass, he felt a presence to the side of him.

“Could you spare a glass for me, my lord?” your soft susurration drew his attention back to the present, prompting his eyes to flicker to you. He witnessed your soft smile, your gaze assessing his face and shoulders.

Wordlessly, he reached for another glass and began readying it for you. The dry liquid coated the glass, a soft drop spilling from the rim and down the stem which caused you to knit your brows in concern.

“Everything okay, my lord?” you asked, reaching for a napkin and beginning to clean up the mess, “You seem out of sorts this morning. Berry for your thoughts?” You dabbed at the table with the wafer-thin paper and tidied up his spill without a second thought. His eyes followed your motions, almost viewing the dabs in slow motion the longer your hands lingered near him.

His silence seemed to perplex you further, turning your shoulders and leaning your hips back against the marble counter and staring up into his unblinking eyes in response. His shaking hands reached for his wineglass and drew it up to his lips. His mustache dipped into the liquid, messily staining his upper lip with the tart tannins.

Gazing at his shoulders, you noticed a loop of his shoulder straps seeming to bubble within the corseted lacings, your hands absentmindedly straightening the bonds without much thought. Mihawk choked on his liquid the moment your hands brushed against his shoulders.

Feeling the warmth float from your fingertips to the exposed skin beneath the weighty jacket, his eyes widened briefly and his pupils narrowed in an accusatory glare. Huffing a nervous laugh as his soft choke and shaking your head, you reached behind you to the pile of napkins and began to raise it to his face and lightly pat at his stained skin.

Reactionary, he immediately placed his glass down behind you with his right hand, his left clapped around your invasive wrist in a circled vice-grip. Your breath caught in your throat, darting your eyes around his face with your eyes wide and panicked. He immediately drew his face forward and captured your lips beneath his without restraint. He hummed into your lips, raising his right hand and carding his fingers through your hair to deepen the passion.

Lips, tongue, and teeth pulled and tugged at your mouth from the swordsman, his gentle moans and sharp breaths depicting his wanton need to join himself with you immediately. He was pent up for so long, restrained for so long, and his body betrayed him in a shameful display in his dreams as proxy to such desire. If his overnight visit from you as his midnight muse spoke for anything, it was that his needs were now becoming more insistent, prominent, and desperate to be satiated.

And you were who he wanted to aid him in such a task.

Your hands raised defensively beside you, your eyes were wide and staring at his furrowed brow and tightly clamped eyes. He continued pressing heated and passionate kisses against your lips with gusto. Not giving you time to adjust or react, he anchored himself between your legs and pinned you against the marble dining station. Lips trailing to your cheek and down your neck, he bit, nipped and sucked at your revealed skin.

His hands looped around your neck and shoulders, drawing you against him with an incessant need to depict to you his desires with his unyielding grip. You gasped as his lips traced up your skin and returned to your lips, your hands dropping to brace yourself beside you on the marble surface.

Pulling his lips away, he held your face stationary by palming at the scruff of your neck and holding your attention with his honey-colored eyes. His predatory gaze narrowed in on you as his bruise-kissed lips ticked up in his signature smirk.

“There,” he snarled at you in soft agitation, before releasing your neck. He collected his wineglass and green bottle from behind you, keeping his face in close proximity. His smirk drew up further as he turned to walk away from you.

Calling over his shoulder, he snickered his taunting remark at you before leaving through the door, “Now I can occupy your thoughts the same way you've been tormenting me in mine.”

You stood there stunned, frozen in place as your lips still tingled with the feeling of his against yours. The silky scrape of his neatly cropped beard tickling your cheeks, the way his tongue brushed with yours, and the animalistic desire to consume you with his lust had your soul ignited.

Turning to the marble bench, you claimed your wineglass and raised it to your lips, immediately gulping back the tart liquid in a heaping swig. Placing the glass in the sink, you stared at the door Mihawk just left through, your thoughts spiraling and sifting through all the possible scenarios of what his words meant, and what the kiss means for you now.

Only Mihawk knew what he intended with the kiss, and after the morning meeting, he was going to give into his desires further and offer you a place in his bed to have his dreams become reality.

2K notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 5 months ago

Text

Out of My Head

Pairing: Chubby Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky feels a bit insecure during a romantic evening and you do your best to get him out of his head.

Word Count: Over 2.6k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, a/b/o dynamics, insecurities, self-doubt, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's crazy about you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @missvelvetsstuff, @honeyglee (chubby!Bucky), and @bucksbabee (rose petals) all requested for alpha!Bucky to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #27 and #32 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wanted tonight to be romantic. Candles, rose petals, the works. Not for any sort of special occasion, but because his omega deserved only the best. Day in and day out. He hoped it was enough to make you feel loved and adored. It was a wonder that you were with an alpha like him.

If you looked inside his head, you’d tell him there was no reason for him to think he wasn't the perfect man for you. That he was a good partner and alpha. Had been from the start. That you loved him. And you did. You never once gave him a reason to doubt that.

If only he could push away the negative voice in his mind that seemed determined to bring him down tonight.

“Bucky?”

Tilting his head, everything around him became muted as he focused on you. Laying on your side with your naked body exposed to him, he watched the candlelight cast a glow upon your skin. Both of you lost your clothes earlier in the evening, content to lay beside each other for the time being. He wished some days that you didn't have to wear clothes at all. You and your body were made to be worshiped.

Unlike him.

Bucky almost covered himself up with the blanket. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but he was soft in places where he was once firm. While he had been on the thicker side for years, he now had some pudge to go along with it. Handsome or not, he just wasn't in the same shape he used to be when he was younger. What if one day you didn’t like that? What if you wanted someone different? Stronger?

Better?

“You're thinking too hard again,” you said, picking up one of the rose petals to brush across his forehead. He smiled when he realized you traced a heart. “I can feel it.”

He inhaled your scent to ground himself. Orange, cinnamon, honey. The aroma of you made his mouth water. It comforted him, too. He hadn't associated any kind of smell with a sense of home until you.

“I’m thinking about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled, nuzzling into your pillow more as you gazed at him. “What about me?”

“Just how amazing you are,” he answered.

When he looked into your eyes the first time, he expected to see his imperfections staring back at him like they had with so many others. But the way you looked at him with kindness, acceptance, and want, everything fell into place. Pieces of himself he didn’t know were missing found their way back to him and made him while again. His heart didn't stand a chance.

It belonged to you.

Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.

How is that possible? How does a goddess want me? What the hell is wrong with me tonight?

“You know you look at me some days like I'm not even real?” You asked, reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. He moaned and turned his head to nose along your wrist. He craved your touch and scent like nothing else. “Like you're in some sort of a dream and you're afraid you're going to wake up if you look away.”

“Because you’re everything I could ever want. You occupy every single thought in my head, and every single dream,” he whispered. Even his dreams couldn't come up with someone as amazing as you. “And maybe I am afraid that this isn't real.”

Your brows pinched. “Why is that?”

He leaned over to kiss your forehead, wanting to ease the worry from your face. “I’m not sure. You just seem too good to be true and it feels like I might wake up to find you gone. Or that one day…” He rested back, swallowing hard. “You’ll decide you just don't want me anymore.”

You whined, a distraught sound that broke his heart. He wanted to take back those words, but he didn’t want to hide his feelings no matter how much it hurt to talk about them. “Bucky, I’m not going anywhere.” You shook your head vehemently as you sat up. “And I want you. I always do. Why would you ever think I wouldn't want you?”

“Because look at me.” He waved his hand over his torso, averting his gaze as if to hide his vulnerability. “How can someone like you want someone like me?”

He wanted to take the words back the moment they left his mouth when another wounded whine spilled from your lips. You placed your hands on his cheeks and brought his gaze back to you. There was mist over your eyes like you were going to cry and he wanted to chase that look away. “How can I want you? Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? How wonderful you are?” You kept a hand on his face as the other slid down to his neck. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

His eyes slowly opened. He hadn't realized he shut them. “Doll, I’m sorry. I-”

“You're perfect. Inside and out. And don't say you aren't because you're perfect to me.” There was a hint of a growl on your tone as your hand moved lower. Well, as much of a growl as an omega could muster. You defended him so fiercely. “No one takes care of me the way you do. No one loves me the way you do. I’m the luckiest person in the world because I get to call you my mate.”

A strangle moan escaped when your hand brushed along his stomach. He never thought it would feel so sensitive, but no one else has really touched it since he got bigger. Except for you. “Omega.”

“You think you aren’t everything I want?” You tilted your head so he could see the mark he left. His chest swelled with pride. You never covered it up or put a collar over it, wanting everyone to see that you were claimed. He had a mark, too.

He was yours just as much as you were his.

“I know in my heart that you want me, I know that. I can feel that. But my head keeps reminding me tonight that I’m just bigger than I used to be and I have no idea why,” he said, shutting his eyes again. “It’s stupid.”

Why was his body such an issue this evening? This was supposed to be romantic, not a time to pick at his inner wounds. Maybe there was a reason he wasn't aware of. Maybe he needed to cut the wounds open so the warmth of your bond could slowly heal them.

“It isn’t stupid. Your feelings are never stupid, do you hear me? And you being bigger? Isn't that just more of you that I get to love?” There was no disgust or judgment as you rubbed his stomach again. Your sincerity almost made him choke up when he opened his eyes to gaze at you. “Bucky, believe me when I say that this isn’t a dream. This is real. I'm real and I love you. I’ll love you no matter what. That is never going to change.”

His chest rumbled at your declaration and he couldn't help but reach for you, needing to feel your body close. “I love you, too.”

He closed his eyes again when you pressed your lips to his. The bond crackled with your affection and care before his tongue slipped past your lips. The crackling intensified, your desire and need flowing into him like molten lava. It was going to burn him alive. He’d gladly perish that way.

Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry.

“Feel this,” you urged when you broke the kiss, putting his hand over your heart.

“Is that for me?” He asked as it raced under his touch.

“It’s only for you, Bucky,” you promised, slowly guiding his hand down your body. “Now feel this.”

You didn't stop until his hand rested between your thighs. “And that’s for me?” He growled as he touched your pussy, your slick coating his fingers.

You gasped and he half expected you to agree that it was, but you pulled away. He tried not to let his insecurities bubble back up and hoped his scent didn't change to something unpleasant. You assured him that he was perfect in your eyes. That you wanted him. And loved him. But it didn't mean you had to-

“It’s for you. Only you,” you said, turning toward the front of the bed to press your chest against it. “See, alpha?”

Bucky sat up as you raised your hips higher and presented yourself to him. He growled softly as he licked away the wetness from his fingers and eyed your twitching, slick-drenched hole. The blood that roared in his ears quickly rushed south and the beast inside snarled at the insecure voice to not say another word. You wanted him. Would always want him. You assured him of that with both your words and your body.

“Take a good look. It’s such a pretty hole for you to ruin. You want to ruin it, don't you? Ruin me?” You asked sweetly, briefly lifting your head to look over your shoulder. The blue around Bucky’s pupils shrank to a small ring, barely visible from how aroused he was at the sight of you. “Please, wreck me. Make me say your name.”

He had a hand wrapped around his cock, the alpha within him clawing to break through the surface. Biology would've screamed at any alpha to take you. Knot you. Breed you. But you didn’t want just any alpha. Wouldn't beg for just any alpha.

He was the alpha you chose.

“And you know that isn’t my instinct talking since I’m not in heat. This is me wanting you, Bucky Barnes,” you said as if you read his mind, snaking a hand between your legs. He almost wished you were on your back so he could play with your beautiful breasts, but he had all night to do so. “I’m so wet for you and so empty. I’m aching. You don’t even have to prep me. Just get in me. Take me.”

You gasped when he was suddenly behind you, his large body draped over yours. “That’s my pussy you're touching, omega,” he growled, pinning you down by the neck. “And I’m the only one getting you off tonight.”

“Yes, alpha,” you purred.

His belly rubbed against you as he raised your hips an inch higher and he tensed up only for a moment before he realized you pushed back against him, trying to take him in. He growled as he sat back and looked down at you, your body quivering from the low and feral sound. Deeply inhaling, he could taste your lust and love on his tongue from how strong it was. As much as he wanted to dive down and devour you, he needed to fill you up and leave his mark inside you once again.

“Not just gonna ruin you with my cock,” he said, brushing the thick head of his cock between your folds. “Gonna ruin you with my mouth after. Make your flood it with that sweet slick and drink it down ‘til you scream how much you love me.”

“Yes. Please, alpha. I want your cock. Your mouth. Anything,” you begged, keeping your head down when he folded over you again. You didn’t fear his size or weight crushing you. It excited you. He could smell it.

“You need me?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Say my name.”

You whimpered when he pressed himself against your entrance. He tried to go slow since he hadn’t prepped you, but you could take him. “I need you. Only you, Bucky,” you sighed, trembling as he pushed in an inch more.

He gasped out your name, powerless to resist the pull as he sank as deep inside you as he could. His eyes fluttered when you clenched around him. Nothing felt as good as your slick cunt. Tight, but opened up for him so beautifully. And nothing else mattered or existed outside of you.

“Move, please. Don’t hold back,” you moaned.

Overwhelming pleasure flowed through him as his body blanketed yours. You embraced every part of him and he wanted to smother you with his scent. “Remember, omega, you begged for this.”

Whatever sense of control he had disappeared as he thrust, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his grunts a stark contrast to the romantic setting of the room. You couldn't push your hips back, but your pussy welcomed each movement as you cried out. Even with his vicious thrusts, it was somehow sensual when he nuzzled your neck.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Yours,” you moaned.

He hadn't known he said the words aloud, too lost in his primal haze. By the sounds of your moans and feel of your clenching walls, you were close already. It pleased him knowing how much he pleased you. He wanted to draw it out, make it last. He also wanted to bring you over the edge again and again.

“Does that feel good? You love getting fucked by your big, strong mate?” He grunted, heat pulsing through his veins.

“Yes. So strong,” you whimpered, reaching back to grip his hair. “So big.”

He groaned, raw pleasure bubbling through every part of his body. “Yeah, I'm big and you love it. And you love my cock ruining your pretty hole?”

“Yes, Bucky. I, hmm, love your cock.” You mewled when his teeth scraped along your skin. “Love you.”

He nosed along your neck again, slipping a hand beneath your body. “Then show my cock how much you love me,” he ordered, teasing your swollen clit. “Come all over it.”

You screamed his name as promised, slick gushing as you spasmed around him. He didn't stop, his hips snapping faster and harder as you shook through it. To feel you let go and hear those sounds of ecstasy as you rode out the waves was an honor. He needed to join you on the ride.

“Such a good omega. My omega. Gonna fill you up. So. Fucking. Good.” He growled the last word as he spilled inside you, panting with his release. The sensations blended with your earlier words, surrounding him in bliss. You were bliss.

Careful not to crush or jolt you, he rolled to his side and took you with him as he stayed nestled inside you. He murmured praise against your skin as you snuggled back against him. He didn't want to leave your body just yet. Not when you felt so good. Not when the terrible voice remained quiet.

About time you shut the fuck up and let me enjoy the evening with my mate.

“Better?” You breathed, looking over your shoulder with hopeful eyes.

Both of your hearts racing still, your purr mixed with his rumble, he wondered why he was so bothered before since his insecurities weren't a constant thing. Everyone had their off days though, including you. Sometimes for no concrete reason at all. That was life, but he couldn't ask for a better partner and mate to help him through the ups and downs, big or small.

“Much better. Thank you,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. “But one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

He wrapped his arm tighter around you and didn't flinch as his stomach pressed more against your back. “I love you, too.”

Always, my sweet omega.

And should you ever doubt his want or love for you, he’d be sure to assure you the way you did for him.

Lovelies, I was TERRIFIED to post this, but I'm in love with them. Maybe we'll see them again? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

1K notes · View notes

cheyisagirlkisser · 17 days ago

Text

. ✦ .R U Mine? FWB Ellie x Reader. ✦

Content: JACKSON ELLIE X FEM! READER, Alcohol consumption, friends with benefits, mentions of casual sex, some angst, Cat is Ellie's ex-girlfriend in this fic, making out in the rain, nipple play (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), scissoring, happy ending this is definitely an emotional roller coaster though, set in TLOU universe in which reader and Ellie are young adults, Joel is still alive and mentioned, Jesse and Dina are in a relationship in this, I know the pic is Seattle Ellie but this is still set in Jackson.

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: I know I literally just said I'd be releasing this in a week, get tricked. (I spent hours editing to finish this but it was so worth it)

Description: Ellie has always been bad with emotions. Dina tells you that what seems like everyday at this point. Still, you can't help but notice the way she leaves the morning after your nights together. You can feel the tension in the way she pretends like nothing happens during patrol together. Just when you think you finally have the situation figured out, it blows up in your face.

"How drunk are you?" Dina's voice echoes in your head, making you turn away from your current view and back onto the current conversation.

"Uhhhhhh…..however drunk you want me to be?” You giggle at Dina’s failed attempt to stifle a laugh.

“You are so doomed tomorrow..don’t you have patrol with Jesse?! And I thought you were gonna try to go talk to Ellie and make things less awkward..” Dina looks at you more sternly now.

You groan. “It’s not like it’ll even fuckin’ matter, she’ll just ignore me like she always does. Like she’s doing right now.”

You know that was a bit over dramatic, but it’s not untrue. Ellie and you have been seeing each other - no, fucking, for the past few months. Every single time you’re in public together, she mostly acts weird towards you, feigning disinterest. The act she puts on is hard to believe when she’s between your legs making you cum your brains out the next day. It’s not like you don’t understand the difference between love and lust. You absolutely understand it, especially in a place like Jackson where getting attached to someone can be riskful. However, Ellie is never a quick fuck-and-leave. Not only is the sex amazing, but she tells you things in the voice she limits for only you to hear, and things she says never make you wonder if she means them. Her actions, however, have you lost.

Ellie was a friend before all of this. She was no childhood friend who grew up with you but simply someone who you connected to well, and well was an understatement. You know almost everything about her, from her favorite rations to bring on long supply runs to her shower routine. Now, the two of you are really at a limbo; the patrols since the first hook-up have all been awkward, with Ellie being extremely quiet or overly nice, which may seem like a good thing but once again you know Ellie. She has never been the type to keep her mouth shut and clean. The crude jokes and sarcasm are your favorite pieces of her personality, and you just assumed at first that it was just her getting used to the dynamic. However, as time continues, it is still just as weird, and the two of you are hooking up just as often.

Currently, you’re wasted to no ends at a party in Jackson you wish you didn’t even go to. Of course, Ellie’s here joking around with Jesse in the far left of the backyard like nothing is weird between the two of you. Again, it may be dramatic, but you just hate the fact that you have to keep it all a secret from everyone. (You told Dina as soon as it happened, but that’s because you can’t keep secrets from your best friend!) You know that from the beginning, it was always supposed to be sex and a friendship. Both of you didn’t want a ton of commitment, but that changed overtime as the hook-ups started to last longer and the aftercare went from sitting in bed together to holding each other like lovers do. Dina warned you that Ellie isn’t good with her feelings, but it causes bitterness within you when she kisses the top of your head the other night then refuses to even say hi to you at a party.

You sigh, turning your attention back away from Ellie once more and onto Dina, who is trying her best to lecture you on why you should just talk to Ellie instead of letting the situation get so awkward, but you’re not really hearing her. You’re not typically a melancholic drunk, but Ellie really has a knack for bringing that side out of you, especially when she’s halfway across the yard talking Jesse’s head off and refusing to make eye-contact. Every time she laughs, it stabs at your heart. Not because she’s happy, but because you want to be the one to cause that feeling in her. You want to be the reason she smiles and giggles, you want to hear all of the swear words she wants to say and the stupid jokes she likes to come up with. You honestly miss her, and you know it’s stupid that you even fell for her, but you hope that someday things will at least be normal once more. Not that you wanna lose the sex, though.

Dina drags you over to the mentioned group and forces her boyfriend Jesse to escort you home. You don’t argue back. You’re too sad to argue and it’s embarrassing to be on the verge of tears as Ellie’s silence next to is continued.

You can’t help but think of Ellie, even when you’re all snug in your bed and half-conscious. It’s the memory of her face as you walked away and how she glanced over to you but never spoke up. She would have made your day so much better with a simple ‘hello.’ It’s not her fault, you tell yourself. It was never ever her fault but yours. Still, you feel so bitter wondering where it all went wrong for you.

Usually, you never experienced such a level of attachment to one person. It’s not like love was new and you were far from a virgin when you and Ellie first hooked up, but something about her is engraved in your head and you just can’t escape it. You picture the button-like curve of her nose and the way light reddens her hair, a color that is almost impossible to make out in the confines of the indoors. Sometimes, you wonder if Ellie was born to be part of nature. She smells so Earthly and the way she moves, converse padding through grass, it’s like when you see someone practicing a hobby meant for them: you just know it’s meant to be that way. You used to love going on patrol with her for that reason, to be able to see her so comfortably scavenging and on Shimmer’s back. Now, it’s stiff and awkward, and the sense of fate that you feel when seeing her do what she is so naturally good at is challenged by her distance.

Deep within your thoughts, you’re pulled out by a creak and the sound of your window opening. You quickly sit up, attempting to dry your tears with your sleeve when you see Ellie clumsily diving into your bedroom. Usually in the circumstance of being angry with someone, you know that you would tell them to fuck off. Ellie, however, cannot be told that. Her charm on you is far too wrapped around you like vines to concrete and so you laugh even through the tears.

“Your window is fuckin’ narrow, you know.”

“I wouldn’t know. I use the front door.” Despite the snark in your words, your voice cracks slightly as you sniffle and try to hold back the hot tears.

Ellie sighs, and you can tell she is holding back. You hate this, the way conversation still flows at little points in time before continuing onto becoming nothing but awkward, stiff silence. Ellie surprises you and moves quickly to sit on your bed near you, pulling you into her arms.

You know you shouldn’t crumble, but you do. Her embrace is so warm despite the fact that tomorrow it’ll be non-existent, and so you cling onto her while you still can. Your tears dribble down your cheeks and onto her shirt where the material grows damp. She only holds you tight, not making any further moves. Somehow, that is worse than the latter. The idea that this is what the relationship (if you can even call it that) has become is so emotionally involved, now there is no doubt that there is more, but there won’t be in the morning.

You grieve the moment for what it could’ve been and fall asleep in Ellie’s arms as she coos you so softly, whispering sweet reassurances, only taking your tears as drunken sadness and not for what it was - her own doing.

When you were once a young girl, you found comfort in the sound of clocks. The rhythmic tick, tick, tick lulled you to sleep. Now, you awake to the same ticking coming from the round clock mounted on your wall by a nail behind it. The familiar sunlight is plastering the bed in patterns much like time itself, telling you that the day is ahead of you and that you cannot sleep it off for much longer. Of course, Ellie’s presence is lacking. She left before you woke up. It hurts more than the other times that you opened your eyes to see that the girl you slept with the night before had left you, because she held you so dearly the previous night in a way that is always more than friendly or sexual. The inbetween of that must be hard for her to differentiate.

You arrive at the East gates around 8 am, and Jesse is there waiting for you with a polite smile on his face.

“Hey. You ready to head out?”

“Yeah, sorry if I’m running a bit late.”

Jesse lets out a small laugh at that. “I won’t hold you to it. You were pretty hammered last night.”

You avoid his teasing gaze, knowing full-well his words ring true. You were embarrassingly drunk last night, and you probably said some things to him that you don’t even remember now, but he definitely does.

“You act like you weren’t drinking too!”

“Oh, please. I’ve been drunk but not that drunk. You were white-girl wasted.”

That makes you laugh, but at the same time your heart clenches along with your uneasy stomach. That’s a term one freckle-faced girl is known for saying because of Joel.

“Can we just get on with patrol now?” Jesse rolls his eyes at your whiny tone and short dismal, but nods anyway and begins to signal for the guards to open up the large gates. You sigh, taking reluctant steps out of Jackson along with him. “My head’s killing me and I need to get this over with so that I can go home and nap.”

The first 30 minutes of patrol goes just as expected, the trek to the neighborhood you were assigned to clear and search through is long and boring. Jesse isn’t much of a talker when it comes to patrols, usually sticking to professionalism. That doesn’t surprise you much. While Jesse likes to drink and have a good time, he’s always taken patrol seriously. You recall countless times you’ve heard him scold other people for not taking their work seriously enough, and you partially understand. The lives of the people in Jackson all count on each other to do their jobs efficiently. Still, you know that patrol can be boring and nerves can be high. Sometimes, people just need to have a bit of humor in their lives to keep things from getting too grim. Afterall, leading an overall grim life as a patroller is no way to live. It’d tear your spirit out, starting from the inside.

However, as you reach the building, Jesse stops in his tracks. His usual disposition is broken and he turns to you with a sigh.

“Listen..” He struggles to find the words, “I just wanted to talk to you about something that I’ve noticed.”

You hope this isn’t going where you think it is. “Yeah?”

“Ellie’s one of my best friends, and I can tell something’s going on between the two of you, even if she won’t tell me.” He notices your visible discomfort at the mention of Ellie, but presses on. “I’m just warning you that she’s not good with her feelings. She can be all awkward and weird about them, but you’re a good person. I know she cares about you.”

You don’t answer immediately, a bit caught off guard by his words. Still, they resonate with you. You’ve heard this from Dina too, but you previously wondered if she was only wanting to give you a soft landing. Dina, as much as you love her, has a tendency to try to avoid hurting your feelings. Jesse is quite the opposite, and you know that what he says has meaning to it.

“Thanks, Jesse.” You give him a slight smile, and he nods.

“Just talk to her, okay? You guys are both great. You deserve better than whatever the fuck you’ve got goin’ on.”

You can’t help but laugh slightly at that despite anxiety churning through you. If Jesse sees potential, why can’t it be realistic to think that you and Ellie have a shot at being more than just friends who often have sex? Why can’t you be girlfriends?

The rest of the patrol is still half better, half worse. You’re anxious about actually talking to Ellie about your feelings and the aching from the previous night hasn’t faded. The task of taking out infected is just as dreadful because you know that in any moment, all of your current problems can become squabble compared to the issue you’d be faced with if a bite were to be imprinted into your flesh. It’d be tragic. Still, you have hope. You carry hope with you that soon, you may get to make some progress with her and get out of this weird spot. You think about that hope every moment that your knife is plunged into the rotten fungi-covered skin of another clicker.

Before, your plan was to make a bee-line for your own house and sleep off the liquor from the night before, to get some actual sleep. Now, your feet seem to lead you to the path of Ellie’s garage. You’re just ready to see her and get the difficult conversation over with so that you can finally know how she feels.

On the way, your heart races with hope and fear. Questions circle around your head like bees swarming their hive; will Ellie reciprocate your feelings? Even if she does, will she want to actually be in a relationship with you? She may not even feel the same way.. You have to stop yourself from going overboard. As you reach her little garage, you take a deep breath and mentally count the seconds in your head.

Tick, tick, tick…One, two, three..

Everything will be fine. Even if this doesn’t work out, you can at least move on from her and have closure. You can’t help but smile at the thought of no longer having to deal with awkward patrols and weird conversations. Finally, you walk towards the garage door; your steps are faster than before and charged with nerves. Your hands are shaky but your mind is determined.

You stop yourself from knocking on her door when you hear the sound of laughter.

You recognize the all-too-familiar laughter that belongs to Ellie, of course. It always makes your heart tumble into your stomach upon hearing it. However, you hear another fit of giggles beside hers that cause a clenching in your heart. Was she with another girl…?

You quickly pad towards her window, her curtains opened wide of course. From even just the side, you can see the scene inside of her room. Ellie is sitting in bed with Cat. You feel sick to your stomach at the sight of the girls so effortlessly talking, something Ellie hasn’t bothered to give you in months besides the times you’re in bed together, naked for her.

Cat is drawing on her arm and it makes you livid with jealousy. You know that she and Ellie dated before. You can’t help but wonder if this is the reason that Ellie holds back from you. Was she really still in love with her ex-girlfriend all of this time? Were you just a rebound to her?

Your heart breaks within you, and you’re more hurt than you are angry. The frustration is definitely there, though. You don’t bother to knock, storming back off to your home.

Ellie knew from a young age who she was. She has a foul mouth, likes nerdy things that others may insult her for, and she likes women. Her sexuality may have been a bit of a spectacle in Jackson. When she and Cat were seen holding hands when they were together, she was forced to get used to the stares thrown at them. They built her up into everything she is today. However, Ellie is nothing if not troubled.

Her emotions aren’t so easily adaptable. Her feelings feel murkier at times and clear at others, yet she cannot convey them in the ways others do. She knows that she is in love with you. She feels an emptiness when she is away from you for too long and wonders if it would be smart to let herself be so honest with you, to risk losing you after spending the rest of her days with you. She struggles to convey all of that, too; what if you find her to be overwhelming? Sex with you may be one thing, but these feelings could scare you away. She can’t lose you.

Perhaps her lack of proper conveyal pushed you further away from her grasp.

It seems that you won’t talk to her anymore. She can’t pinpoint what is causing the change, but all she knows is that it is all too real. You, for some reason, won’t volunteer to patrol with her anymore. You don’t knock on her door, even if it’s just for that one thing that has been the main foundation of your relationship for the past few months. You lack the softness in your gaze when you’re in her presence; you lack to gaze at her at all.

Something in Ellie is entirely disheartened by your sudden absence in her life. She knows that she was awkward before, but she genuinely wanted to tell you how she felt about you. She wanted to carve your name into the surface of her heart so that she can only bleed you, as if your hands don’t squeeze at the organ enough. She recalls the times that she’d take deep inhales of your hair after sex just to be filled with your scent. She thinks about the last time she got to hold you and how she left after, just because she couldn’t live with it if you rejected her in the morning.

For weeks, this avoidance continues. At first, Ellie tries to speak to you. You ignore her or brush her off with short responses every time. After a while, she begins to pull away as well. That is, until you’re walking home in the rain as the crash of thunder surrounds Jackson at all angles.

Your boots make wet pitter-patter noises as you try your best to hurry back home after a late patrol. The sky is dark, the only source of light is your own flashlight and the dim street-lights that make a path down the street. Unfortunately, your house is so far from the center of Jackson that it requires a longer journey to get home than it does for most people. You live on the outskirts, which can be good for privacy, but not so good for travel.

You wish that you had brought an umbrella with you earlier before leaving your house. Now, it doesn’t matter. All you can focus on is getting home and not being struck down in lightning. In a world filled with fungi-based zombies, you’d think that something as unique as being fried from a thunderstorm would be the least of your worries. Your steps quicken until they don’t.

You trip face-first into the gravel, your skin on fire from the sudden harsh tumble. Your clothes are covered in mud and dirty rain water, some pebbles sticking to the soaked fabric. You groan in discomfort, but you’re halted from your progress in rising when you look up to see a frantic Ellie staring down at you.

“Holy shit, are you okay?! What the hell are you doing out here, it’s raining cats and dogs..”

Usually, you’d laugh at that joke. Instead, you avoid her gaze and try to stand, wincing at the soreness from the fall and the scrape on your knee left from the sharp gravel.

“I’m fine. I just got back from patrol.” Your words are so boring and short, it makes Ellie’s heart ache. She misses how things used to be.

“You’re not gonna make it all the way back to your house like this.” She states, and you know she is right, unfortunately. Your clothes leave you feeling like a wet dog, dirty and half-way drenched. Your knee is probably bleeding, and you simply don’t want to walk all of the way home. Still, you’d rather do that than face Ellie after what you witnessed.

“I can make it, I’ve walked home before.”

Ellie scoffs at your stubborn, dry tone. “Yeah, no shit. But not like this. C’mon, just come back to the garage. You can borrow my clothes and I’ll ask Joel for a first-aid kit.”

That sounds so like Ellie to offer. You remember countless nights in her garage, some before the whole situation happened when you only played video games and let her read you comics until you were snoring on her couch. You also remember the late nights spent against her, panting as she made you cum in any way she could, only to act as if it didn’t happen the next day. The thought makes you grow bitter.

“Maybe I don’t wanna go home with you.” You state in a monotone, or at least try to. You pray that she can’t hear the break in your voice, notice how your already wet face is easily splotched with a cluster of tears.

That makes Ellie’s heart completely squeeze within her body. “But..why?”

“Why?! Because you led me on, Ellie!”

Ellie’s eyes widen at that. She didn’t expect that. “Lead you on? How..How did I lead you on? I know I was awkward, but I-”

You quickly cut her off, your voice raising with pent-up hurt. “It’s not about your stupid awkwardness! It’s about the fact that I was clearly just a rebound.”

Ellie goes silent at that. A rebound? What the hell were you talking about? A rebound for who?

“A rebound? What are fuck are you even saying right now..? I never..” Her voice trails off, she’s clearly confused; that only fuels your anger further.

“You only agreed to sleep with me because you wanted to get over Cat. Am I right, or am I right?” Your tone slides from angry to practically livid. Underneath it all is pure heart-break.

“That’s not even true! I’ve been over Cat for a couple years now and you know that. Why would I still like her after this long?”

“I saw you and her in your stupid garage, Ellie!” As you shout, lightning strikes, causing you both to flinch. You should just turn away and rush inside, rush anywhere indoors. You know that. Still, you’re too focused on all of the hurt inside of you. “I saw her drawing all over your arm and I heard your laughter. You never laughed like that for me unless we were fucking. You never smiled at me like you smile at her, or Jesse, or even Joel for fuck’s sake.” You feel sobs bubble up from your throat and the rain pouring down upon the two of you. “I just wanted you to be happy with me like how you were before. Instead of…just pretending like we were nothing at all.”

Ellie looks like she’s about to argue back, but her words best her. She instead moves to stand in front of you, and even despite the tension and distance between the two of you, you can’t help but think about how beautiful Ellie looks, her soaked bangs glued to her forehead and her clothes soaked, clinging onto her slender form. She cups your face almost hesitantly, her fingers brushing against your jaw as if she’s afraid you’ll push away. She can feel the heat of your tears in contrast to the coldness of the rain water on your wet face. She aches at the difference.

“Listen to me..please..” Her voice, so soft and intimate, makes you want to do whatever she asks. She is so gentle even as the thunder booms once more, almost making you jolt again. “Cat was only drawing on my arm because I wanted to get a new tattoo, and I’ve been well over her for years now. We might’ve dated when we were young, but all we are now is a friendship. I needed her advice on you. I wanted to know what to do, how to tell you how I feel..”

You look up at her, your voice hesitant. “And how do you feel?”

She exhales, a shaky and addictive sound. “I don’t want Cat back. I want you back..I miss you. I miss the goofy shit we used to do on patrol.” She chokes out a laugh, ironic for the speech and the nerves she’s feeling from confessing all of this to you. “I miss hearing your laughter, I miss how you smell so lovely even when you live in a fucking apocalypse. I yearn to hear you talk to me. Talk to me about anything. I miss the way you sneeze, the way you stumble over yourself like how you just did and got your damn patrol clothes all muddy.” She takes one final moment to savor your face, to memorize your features right in front of her in case you reject her final confession. “I don’t love Cat. I love you.

Her words hit you so deeply, right in the heart where you need to feel her. You don’t hesitate to lean in and Ellie almost immediately meets your lips in a bruisingly desperate kiss.

Your hands grasp at her face like she’ll disappear in any moment, fingers finding her hair and pulling at the wet, tangled strands of auburn.. She pulls you closer by the waist and her palm can feel sensations that make her believe this moment is something straight out of a dream. Dots of rain fall upon the both of you as her lips pull your bottom one in between them, making you gasp softly and part your lips. She takes full advantage, slipping her tongue into your mouth.

The two of you are now impossibly close as your mouths slide against each other so needily, so fervently. Every brush, every wet smack of your lips ignites more than just a fire between the two of you. Ellie is itching to keep you like this, but she desperately misses all of you. She wants to devour you and solidify the fact into existence that you are hers, and you won’t ever doubt her love for you.

Droplets of rain wetten the kiss further, but they do nothing to prevent the heat of your mouths enveloped, or stop the way the two of you push and pull closer to each other like magnets. The only thing that breaks the kiss is a sudden bolt of lightning rather close to your location.

Breathless, Ellie’s forehead meets your own. “We should go back to my garage.” You nod, and quickly, the two of you scamper off to Joel’s backyard in which her small place is located.

Inside, Ellie’s lips meet yours once more, thirsting and full of longing. Damp clothes are pulled off of the two of you; bodies meet each other and you can feel every inch of Ellie against every centimeter of you. Her stiff nipples graze yours, making you shiver despite the warmth of her garage.

“Say you love me again,” you plead with her so breathlessly.

She doesn’t hesitate to be truthful, not after holding back for so long. “I love you. I love you so much, it hurts.”

Her lips drag down your neck, her hands guiding your hips to walk back towards her bed. You fall onto the soft mattress and her body quickly follows yours. Each swipe of her tongue over your skin sends sparks of pink electricity through your veins and between your legs.

“I need you, Els.” You’re panting, a delirious mess and yet more content than you’ve been in a long time.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I’ll give you all of me. I’m yours now.”

Ellie’s body is smothering yours, and she has to settle further down to make contact with your tits. Her mouth is all over the soft, bumpy texture of your nipples, lapping at the hardened peaks to send little shudders through your spine. Your body craves her after so long, but you appreciate all she gives you. Her mouth takes its time on each of your nipples, her love so needy and desperate yet savoring. You grasp at her messy hair, trying to pull her up to kiss you.

When her bare weight settles back onto yours, your mouths soon meet for a slower, but just as intense kiss. You take your time to slide your tongue against hers and lick into her mouth, exploring her as if your time here would last forever. Her body involuntarily grinds against yours and though there’s not direct friction onto either of your clits, you still whimper into each other’s throats.

Ellie’s palm slides down between your humid bodies as she distracts you with her tongue swirling against yours, a delicious sensation you can’t seem to find anywhere else. Her fingers suddenly rub at your clit, making you moan into her mouth, an eager sound so easily swallowed.

This isn’t the first time she’s touched you like this, not even the second time. Still, your body reacts as if this is all new. The way she touches you is sloppy and passionate, not anything in comparison to the previous hook-ups in which she was able to make you cum but gave you what was a watered down, held back version. Now she can give you everything.

The kiss slows, but your lips lingered against each other’s. You can still lick at the taste of rain droplets on her swollen lips; you wish to rub against them so hard that they taste of nothing but your own lips.

“Inside me, please.” You beg against her lips, sending fizzles of heat throughout her own cunt and making her clench around nothing.

“Good,” she mumbles against you as she eases two fingers into your moistened hole to elicit a soft, open gasp from your lips, “wanted to feel inside your cunt again. Missed it.”

Her calloused fingers work you, stretching your walls to ease any discomfort. You don’t know what to focus on with the amount of feelings coursing through your body - the subtle curve of her breasts are visibly if you flicker down, but you can’t seem to do so as you throw your head back onto her pillow and stare up at her ceiling to try and collect yourself; the way her eyes intensely watch over the way you gnaw at your bottom lip with pleasure, biting down when she curls her digits in the most delicious way possible; her mouth painting noticeable hickeys all over your neck, an action you’d usually scold but can only grasp her face for more; the soft ‘love you’s leaving her mouth between suckling. She can’t help but remind you after all of this time.

Her fingers batter your insides repeatedly, fingertips pressing into your spongy spot until you cry her name and your nails are piercing into her skin. Each slide into your walls and the slight retreats sends waves of pure pleasure through your body, your peak being the only thing either of you can focus on. Her eyes look over your face, watch the way your breath recedes as your orgasm bleeds into your stomach and into your head. Each ripple shooting through your walls causes your walls to clamp down onto her fingers as if to hold them inside of you forever. She doesn’t stop pumping into your hole until you physically cannot withstand it any longer.

“I love you, Ellie.”

Your words, so saccharine, make her forget about her plan to cuddle with you after making you feel good. She’s now hitching up your leg and pulling hers over your thigh, slotting her neglected and slick cunt between your legs, her folds grinding against yours and causing you to mewl at the sudden sensation against your clit.

“You love me?” Ellie asks, watching as you nod your head eagerly, “bet this pussy loves me just as much,” her words so filthy make you even wetter than you thought was possible in a single night.

Ellie whines as her clit receives little sparks of friction, the swollen bud savoring each moment of contact with your cunt.

“Feels so good, h-holy fuck..” You whine, your hips bucking up into hers in small shudders of movements. The pure sloppiness of your pussies rubbing together causes the room to be filled with the sounds of squelching and strained moans, Ellie’s more breathy and yours more pitched. Her hips quiver against yours as she gets closer and close to cumming, her movements more sloppy as your wetness turns into hers, and hers yours.

“Please, please, please I’m gonna cum, I’m-” Your own orgasm washes over your body, your back rising to accommodate for the sudden intense pleasure. Soon, Ellie’s cumming with you, not hesitating to swallow up your cries with her lips sealed over yours. You can feel each sloppy hump her cunt gives yours, can feel her whines only attempt to leave her throat. All of it has you drunk off of the feeling, possibly even harder than the last orgasm. Her tongue lazily fucks your mouth as she gives a final few sloppy judders to your clit before her body gives in to the utter exhaustion and she settles on top of you.

Her body, coated in sweat and her pussy, covered in both of your juices, are completely worn out. Ellie’s head finds sanction in the crook of your neck where her breath tickles your purple-splotched skin. You wrap your arms around her, squeezing her tightly. Her leg brushes up against yours and that’s when you noticeably flinch; right, the scraped knee from earlier.

Ellie quickly pulls herself off of you to catch sight of your left knee, slightly red with dried blood and clearly tender.

“I’ll take care of that, just lay here and rest, ‘kay” You nod eagerly, wanting to get rid of the burning sensation as quickly as possible. Ellie quickly pulls on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before giving you a quick kiss on the forehead, her eyes taking a final glance to admire your naked body sprawled out on her bed.. all she can seem to feel now is love for you. “Stay here and I’ll be back soon.”

Quickly, Ellie returns to you with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a large adhesive band-aid. Her face is rather irritated. You raise your eyebrows.

“What’s with the look?”

She sighs, muttering out, “Joel..that’s all.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. Fuck, you missed Joel. You missed watching movies with Ellie on his couch and the popcorn he’d microwave for the two of you to share. You can already tell by her face that he was pretty teasing about her scavenging through his cabinets for first-aid items looking like a hot mess. “I missed him,” you mumble quietly.

“Yeah… He missed you, too.” Ellie unscrews the lid on the alcohol and braces herself to do what she has to do.“This is gonna hurt, okay?” You nod, bracing yourself. Soon, the stinging of the alcohol hits your knee. It’s sudden and makes you wince. Seeing that look on your face makes Ellie want to stop and just hold you tightly, protect you from any harm. When the sting finally fades, you let out a soft sigh. She quickly peels the back of the band-aid off and with gentle but calloused fingers sticks the adhesive onto your scrape. She gives you a soft smile. “There. All good, now.”

You don’t hesitate to smile back, but another thought crosses your mind. “Hey, Ellie..?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is heavy with exhaustion and a noticeable, gentle affection.

“I meant it when I said I loved you.”

Ellie gives you a toothy grin, a familiar one. “And I meant it when I said it, too.”

“But..I still just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me that before, you know?”

Ellie exhales quietly and nods, understanding what you mean. “I was really nervous, okay? I’ve just lost people before,” she leans in closer to you, admiring your eyes which observe her as she speaks, brushing messy strands of hair behind your ear, “I know it’s stupid, but it really is true when you hear people say I can’t handle my feelings well. I get all weird about them and I’m like a social recluse when I have a crush for some reason. As much as I just wanted to be around you, I was scared.”

Your eyes soften slightly from her words, but curiosity takes over. “Scared of what? I wouldn’t ever hurt you, Els.”

“It’s more than just getting my heart broken by you.. I mean, I’m scared of losing you physically, too.” She admits quietly.

Ellie’s fears aren’t irrational. Everyday, people who have lovers, have friends and family are bitten or torn apart in the most gruesome ways possible. That’s always a reason to be cautious to care, but you can’t help but want to disagree with that sentiment.

“But Ellie, you can’t just be alone with the fear of losing the people you care about,” you argue softly, “if you live your life like that, you’ll never get to have all of anyone. Sometimes, you have to risk losing the person you love so that you can at least have them in every way possible, even if it’s temporary.”

“I know that, believe me. I’m so damn tired of keeping myself away from you and not fully giving you what you deserve.” Ellie leans down to plant a soft peck to your nose, making you giggle, “you deserve to be loved wholeheartedly and not like how I was doing before..so..” she sighs. “If I asked you to be mine, my girlfriend…would you say yes?”

Your eyes widen and your heart beats faster. “You really mean that?”

Ellie nods, her cheeks red from earlier activities somehow burning brighter. This time, it’s more from embarrassment and something more childish than previously.

You giggle and quickly lean up to hug her tightly. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” Ellie pulls you further in, squeezing you tightly. “You gotta promise to not hold back on me, though.”

She nods, feeling emotions pull at her chest at the feeling of your embrace, of finally having you in her arms without having to think about leaving you in the morning. “I promise.”

The rhythmatic, quiet sound of Ellie’s clock lulls you to sleep as she holds you in her arms.

Tick, tick, tick.

This time, Ellie won’t hold back from you when you wake up.

Taglist: @firefly-ace @kaykeryyy

#ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #the last of us part 2 #ellie smut #ellie x fem reader #dividers by fairytopea

777 notes · View notes