#he was always by my side and made me feel more special in every day. in a unique way and one of the most important to me..

[lizzieolseniskinda]

LOGAN HOWLETT - furrgiveness

x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)

SUMMARY: a furry animal gets your plans cancelled.

WORD COUNT: ?

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: english is not my first language and i absolutely hate this

it was a friday night at the mansion, and it was unnervingly quiet for a school. logan leaned against his doorframe, and stared at the clock, waiting for you but you never came. the two of you had planned to grab a drink at his favorite bar - nothing fancy, but it was at least something. something you both enjoyed.

except, you once again, cancelled. no reason or explanation, just a short, “sorry, can’t make it tonight.” and with that you were gone.

this was the third time that week. heck, the seventh time in two weeks that you'd bailed and logan started to notice a pattern. you weren't just ditching him, jean, storm, even scott had mentioned your sudden disappearances. but logan took it a little more personally. you didn't have to spend every waking minute with him, but the lack of explanation? that ate him from the inside out. he wasn't even sure why he kept making plans for the both of you.

now, instead of staying at the mansion like a love sick fool, waiting for another canceled plan. logan grabbed his jacket and headed out. the bar in the next upcoming town had become his escape for nights like this - when things didn't make sense, and whiskey could at least dull a smart part of his irritation.

saturday morning passed, and logan still hadn't returned.

you hadn't meant for things to happen like this, guilt had been gnawing at you for weeks, but it come to a point where it was almost unbearable. you knew logan was frustrated, just like your friends. he never did say much, but the way hs expression tightened with each cancellation told you enough.

you didn't want to cancel - not on logan, or on girl's day with jean or storm, and certainly not on scott - who always made you watch scary movies with him. scott started giving you side eyes and stern look during your training together. there was something you couldn't tell them, not yet anyway.

besides, it wasn’t even that bad.

and logan… well, he hadn't come home last night. when you canceled on him for the millionth time. not that it was unusual for him to disappear every now and then to blow off steam. but something about this time felt different. it wasn't just frustration on his part. you could see it - the hurt beneath his facade that he put up.

you decided to put the facts straight.

by saturday afternoon, you decided to make up your mind and find him. you knew where he'd be. the bar wasn't far from the mansion, a ten minute drive and 30 minutes if you walked. it was a place logan went when he needed space.

walking into the bar, you spotted him immediately, he was hunched over the counter, nursing a glass of whiskey. he didn't seem as tense as the night before, but there was still a slight shadow of frustration hanging over him.

you walked up to him quietly, sliding onto the stool next to him, he reeked of liquor and cigarettes. "logan?"

he didn't look at you right away, just took another sip from his glass. on the bar was a cigar that was halfway done. "what're you doin' here?" his voice low, gruff.

you fiddled with your fingers. "i came to talk, i thought i'd owe you an explanation."

logan finally turned to look at you, his eyes scanning your face. "yeah, you do. been bailin' on everyone, 'specially me. kinda makes a guy wonder what the hell's goin' on."

"yeah.." you replied softly, biting the inside of your cheek. "i'm sorry logan. i didn't mean to keep canceling like that. i just.. i didn't know how to explain it to you."

logan raised his eyebrow, waiting to hear your explanation.

you sighed, feeling the weight of the past few weeks pressing down on you. "there's a reason i've been avoiding plans. not that i don’t want to hang out with you - or jean or scott or anyone.”

“then what the hell is goin’ on?” logan asked, his voice laced with confusion.

you swallowed, “i’ve been taking care of something.”

logan frowned. his brows knitting together. “takin’ care of what? don’t tell me you’re dealin’-“

“no! oh my gosh, no!” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “it’s a kitten,” you admitted. “i found her outside the mansion a few weeks ago. she was sick and alone, and i couldn’t just leave her out there.”

logan blinked, i mean it was better than what he thought at first. “a kitten?”

you nodded. “yeah, she’s been needing a lot of attention- feeding, medicine, litter box you know. that’s why i’ve been cancelling everything. i didn’t mean to blow you off, logan, i just had to take care of her.”

logan stared at you, his expression softened just a bit. "why didn't you tell anyone? why keep it a secret?"

you sighed, "because animals aren't allowed in the mansion, logan. you know how strict xavier is about that. the furniture, the old wood - they don't want anything getting ruined. and i don't want anyone to get in trouble because of me."

logan let out a breath, setting his glass down with a soft thud on the bar. "so you've been sneaking around, just to take care a kitten?"

you nodded, "yeah. i thought if i could just keep it a secret it’d be okay. but… i didn’t think about how it would look for you. i didn’t mean for it to come off like i was avoiding you.”

logan was quiet for a long moment, his eyes still on you. then, after what felt like an eternity, he shook his head, a small, dry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you’re an idiot, y’know that?”

you blinked, surprised. “what?”

logan let out a low chuckle, the tension finally breaking. “you think i give a damn about some furniture or old wood? if you’ve got somethin’ goin’ on, you tell me. i can handle it- i can handle charles. you hidin’ stuff — that’s what pisses me off.”

you felt the relief wash over you, your shoulders finally relaxing. “i’m sorry, logan. i really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

logan grunted, taking another sip of his drink. “yeah, well. you did. but i get it now.”

you nodded, giving him a small, apologetic smile. “i’ll make it up to you. no more secrets, i swear.”

logan’s smirk widened slightly. “damn right, no more secrets.”

for a moment, the two of you just sat there in silence, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting. logan’s frustration had faded, replaced by the familiar ease you usually shared.

“so,” he said, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow. “what’re you gonna do with the kitten?”

you smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through you. “i don’t know yet. i’ll figure something out. maybe i should find her a home. but… for now, i’ll keep her out of trouble. away from the furniture.”

logan chuckled again, shaking his head. “you’re somethin’ else, kid.”

as the two of you sat in the bar, the tension and frustration finally fading. no more secrets, no more cancellations.

just you, logan, and maybe a kitten (or two).

“also, i’m pretty sure charles already knows. being a mindreader and all.”

[mel-loly]

-“Just a flower, in the middle of the field at night, a light is turned on and reveals.. A day arriving with confident hope and silent happiness!”🌹🐝

[ohdeerfully]

alastor request HAI can it be based on the fact that alastor doesn't sleep, and it's his lover finding out that petting his ears during cuddling makes him fall asleep.

thank you for your service

yess i love sleepy alastor thank u so much anon :D!!

Goodmorning, Love

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: none! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

You were well aware of the Radio Demon’s sleep habits. Or, well, lack of sleep habits. You often spent nights in his room, where he would sit with you in bed until you fell asleep and go do whatever the hell he gets up to late at night. You always woke up in an empty room, and often so in the middle of the night, struggling to rest again as a greedy tightness gripped your chest in worry and disappointment.

You understood, though, and tried your best not to let it get to you that you didn’t have his warm body next to you when you woke every morning. But you couldn’t help that twinge of sadness. You weren’t particularly needy or clingy, but would it kill him to stay in bed with you for a single night? And to have a slice of domestic bliss as you woke up?

Obviously. 

You roll your eyes as you lay, staring up at the ceiling. You had just gotten ready for bed, and now waited for said demon to join you for a few hours. Your fingers tapped, impatient, against your chest as you hummed absentmindedly.

“How lovely,” You heard him speak. Tickles of that radio static that always followed him clung to your exposed skin, which was signal enough that he had entered the room had he not announced himself. “What a siren you are, luring me here with that hum of yours.”

You smiled slightly at his comment, scooching over slightly to encourage him over. He obliged, joining you under the covers. He still wore his usual outfit, which made sense considering his tendency to go away all night. You purse your lips at the thought, slightly chewing on the skin.

“Why the face?” Of course he noticed your expression. He always noticed when any emotion tickled your face. You appreciated the genuine tone in his voice, the typical buzz of radio barely detectable in his words. He always got a little softer and kinder when he was alone with you like this.

You appreciated nights with him, being able to see a side of him that nobody else would live to spread word of. You enjoyed feeling a little special, especially to somebody like him.

“Do you think you could stay in,” You asked cautiously, fiddling with your hands as you inched closer to him, pressing your body against his. Even laying, he still seemed much taller than you. You gingerly guided his head down, against your chest as you spoke, hoping the multitasking would keep him from sitting up and rejecting your intimate gestures. “Just for a night. I miss you all night long.”

He allowed his head to lay against you. He did feel tense, of course, letting the back of his head be exposed in this manner as he lay vulnerable on you. It was a strange feeling, but not one he cared to consider for too long. 

“(Y/N),” He began with a sigh. “It’s impossible for me to get much done during the day, what with all the running around Charlie does. Somebody has to keep an eye on that young princess. I prefer to stay awake to get my own errands done at night.” 

I know that, you wanted to say and interrupt his explanatory ramble. You wanted to beg him to understand, just this once. You held in a sigh, watching as his head gently rose and fell with every breath you took. Maybe you should just take this submission from him as good enough.

You gingerly began tangling your fingers through his red hair, brushing out any kinks he may have gotten throughout the day. His tense body seemed to ease slightly, becoming more and more relaxed as you weaved your fingers through the locks.

“You have really soft hair, Al,” You commented, changing the subject. You figured there was no use convincing him. You let your fingers lightly trail upwards, up to his ears. You grazed them slightly with a finger. You touched again. When he made no motion of dislike, you fully began rubbing them. Petting him. You smiled to yourself at the idea of petting the feared Radio Demon. “And your ears are even softer.”

“I try to take care of myself,” He responded proudly. There was another hint of something in his voice, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. But it seemed heavy. “A well groomed man is a successful one.” You absentmindedly agreed as you stroked the velvety fur of his ears, switching back and forth between them and his hair. You had a preference for the ears, though.

You sighed and began humming quietly again. He rarely got so… comfortable, even around you. He always had some sort of guard up, always had his shoulders squared. He almost never became so… loose and vulnerable.

You noticed the clippings of radio frequency had stopped, which was a noise that was ever present in his wake. You had a suspicion why it disappeared, a small grin forming on your face.

Yes, the Radio Demon never slept. But that was a choice he made, not a curse that prevented him. Even demons get tired. You don’t know how Alastor makes it day by day without a wink of rest, but it was apparent that exhaustion had built up in him. He just needed to relax for a second.

You graced your fingers over his fringe, and craned your neck in a way to get a glance at his face. Yeah, you were right. 

He laid there, eyes shut, features relaxed with the lightest grin playing on his face. Even in sleep, you complained. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was the sound of his deep, slow breathing and occasional twitch of his velvety ears. You briefly wondered what the Radio Demon would dream about.

Would he be aggravated with you when he woke up, realizing you had practically cast a sleep spell on him? You didn’t, but the rate of which exhaustion took over may as well have been some sort of magic.

You shut your own heavy eyes, exhaling lightly as you continued to comfort yourself with the texture of his fur and hair. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

You craned your arms and neck as consciousness came back to you, but an unfamiliar weight kept you from getting that good stretch in. Momentarily confused, you blinked open and looked down.

Red and black hair, more of a mess than usual, still took place on your torso. This was a first, and your chest felt like exploding with the glee of seeing Alastor still resting with you. He somehow looked even more relaxed than the night before, his cheek flush against your stomach, squishing his lips up slightly. A light grin was still there.

You gently brushed your fingers over his face, trailing a line around his features with an index finger. His eyes squeezed for a moment, and that static ambience of his slowly, quietly, returned. It was a noise that you had learned to find comfort in. He slowly opened his red eyes, a confused and sleepy daze clouding them. There was a wrinkle in his brow as he roughly propped himself up with an elbow, looking up at you with a furrowed expression.

“(Y/N)..?” He trailed, pausing to take in a shuddering morning yawn through a confused smirk. “Did I… Dear, what time is it?”

You looked at him tenderly. Oh, how cute he was, sleepy like this. Composed like an exhausted kid. Something even you have never seen before.

“Yeah,” You responded to his unspoken question. “It’s probably seven a.m. or so. I dunno.” There wasn’t a clock in your immediate line of sight.” “A.m. …” He said slowly. He sat up fully, looking down in disappointment at his wrinkled day wear. He quickly blinked the sleep from his eyes and managed to bring some composure to himself, but that lick of exhaustion was still prominent. Especially under his eyes.

“Yeah,” You said again, a light chuckle following. “Goodmorning, Al.”

He wasn’t obviously upset, it seemed. Though he probably was too tired to think about it too much yet. Maybe later.

“Well… Goodmorning, love.” He responded, still with a hint of confusion in his voice. “I suppose I accepted your plea from last night.” He brushed at his clothes while he spoke, trying to flatten out the creases that were brought on through a night of rest.

“Maybe more often?” You asked, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation. You already knew the answer, but it was okay. You knew how to keep him in now. You mischievously smirked as he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Unlikely.”

[bunnis-monsters]

Always with you

Male!Slime x Fem!Reader

Bunni’s Monstertober Event

Oct 4th

Oct 3rd

Oct 5th

warnings: he’s inside you in public, portable and pocket sized bf, trying to hold back moans while he’s wriggling inside

summary: Every day when you go to work, your lover ends up so lonely! So he decides to come with you, even when you say to stay home…

🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼

Your lover was being pretty pouty today. The two of you were different species, him a slime, and you a human, and sometimes that brought along… certain problems.

“Baby, I said you can’t come you work with me…”

He shined at you… a grown man, huffing and pouting. “But you’re gone all day! I barely get to see you…”

The wet, gooey feeling of him burying his face into your neck made you sigh softly. “It’s just one more day… then you’ll have me all weekend.”

He held onto your hips, trying to bite and nip at you so your neck was covered in hickeys… but he was much too soft. It was aggravating, being such a wobbly and gooey thing!

But in remembering the shortcomings of his species, he got an idea…

You left for work early the next morning, your boyfriend curled up next to you with the blanket over his head. Honestly, you did feel bad leaving him alone every day, but you had to make sure the bills were paid and food was in the fridge.

“I’m off, sweetheart… love you…”

It was a little hurtful when he didn’t respond… but you told yourself he was just asleep.

You didn’t see a little ball of goop following after you, giggling quietly and hitching a ride on your pants leg.

As soon as you sat down in an important business meeting, you felt a very familiar slimy sensation move up your leg. You couldn’t really do much about it, this meeting had high stakes!

But you couldn’t help but let out a whimper when you felt the slime sink into your cotton panties, surrounding your pussy.

It wasn’t long until you were being stuffed full of it, your legs held apart by sticky slime on either side of your chair.

To keep yourself quiet, you bit your lip, trying your best not to moan as your lover moved in and out of you, pressing against that special spot that had you coming around him almost instantly.

He absorbed your cum, swelling inside of you and spurting out cum of his own into your womb.

When the wriggling started, you had to hold onto the armrests of your chair to ho back a moan.

This was going to be a long meeting…

A few hours later, you held onto your pocket sized boyfriend, pouting at him. “Was all of that necessary? You could have just ridden along in my purse…”

“B-but I wanted to show everyone you’re mine!” he said, his voice high pitched and squeaky due to being separated from his main body.

And when the next person went to sit in that chair, they were surprised to find a wet, sticky mess there…

He certainly showed them.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[eyesxxyou]

sweet revenge

・・・l. howlett x fem!reader

rating. m

word count. 1.3k

synopsis. after catching your boyfriend cheating, you and his father, Logan, go on a road trip to confront him, though, you don't make it far

warnings. p-in-v, tummy bulging, cheating (but as payback), DILF Logan, car sex, van sex, sex with boyfriend's father, cunilingus, kinda rushed :((

If someone told you you’d be trapped in a car with your neglectful boyfriend’s father for an entire weekend as you drive to meet him in Mexico a week ago, you would have stared at them blankly then told them that didn't sound so out of the ordinary for a life like yours.

It wasn't your idea, it was Logan's, your boyfriend's father. He insisted that you two would have to drive across the US together to confront your disgusting, cheating, asshole boyfriend who flew to Mexico to spend time with his mistress. He was almost as disgusted as you were, apologizing to you with explanations of how “he hadn't raised his boy like this”. How funny life is.

Logan, you always thought, was a good man. He had always been kind to you since you’ve known him, sometimes to the point where you thought he was flirting with you. Not that you minded, he was quite handsome, even for being in his 50s. With his salt and pepper beard and slight wrinkles that made him look mature and wise. You never minded his slight touches on your arm or your lower back but you never pursued the idea beyond a lingering thought.

“I’m slightly surprised you’re not crying.” Logan said about an hour into your ride together. You had been entirely silent, letting the radio play while you gazed longingly out of the window, your feet up on the dashboard. You rolled your head to the side to look at him. “I’m more angry than sad.” Or were you? You searched within the cavity of your chest for emotion and found nothing. You were so apathetic to the whole thing. Maybe it simply hasn't hit you yet, that your boyfriend of 3 years has been cheating on you for 2 of them with some girl he decided to vacation with in Mexico.

Logan stroked his fingers through his beard. “He’s a fucking idiot. His mother was a cheater too, I say he got it from her.” Your boyfriend was raised primarily by his mother after they had gotten divorced he had told you. He wasn't actually all that close with Logan. You had sussed out that it was because he didn't give special treatment between him and his sister, Laura. They were treated the same in every way by Logan while his mother always seemed to favor him.

“Thank you, Mr. Howlett for offering to bring me down here…really. It’s too kind of you.” You couldn't have possibly scrounge up enough money to haphazardly buy a plane ticket down to Cancun last minute. You would have had to wait for him to come back from his “business trip” to confront him. Logan thought it a better idea to do it as soon as possible.

He shrugged, a single hand on the wheel as his eyes flicked lightly from the road to you. “It’s nothing. He doesn't deserve a pretty girl like you.” Logan shook his head lightly. “Back in my day, I would have been all over a girl like you. Hell, I’d be all over you now if I’d met you at the right time.”

There's something deadly serious in his voice that suggests he was far from joking. All your delusional thoughts that maybe, just maybe, he was flirting with you turned out to not be delusions at all. He’s been dropping hints and you’d been turning a blind eye to them so willingly.

You’ve never been with a man his age. Something about it seemed so taboo. He was old enough to be your father. Yet the distinct feel of forbiddenness, both because of his age and because he was your boyfriend's father, excited you.

“Who says you can't be all over me now?” You’re being more bold than you’d have liked. You crossed your ankles on the dash. It would be the perfect revenge. When he goes low, you go lower—you go to Hell.

You let your hand wander to his thigh, your eyes lingering on him as he keeps glancing between you and the road. Logan chuckled lowly at you, your forward attempts at coming onto him were rather cute. “Oh baby, you don't know what you’re tryna get yourself into.” He’s trying to warn you but you like the edge to his tone.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up in your seat to lean over and whisper into his ear. “Let me find out.” Maybe older men do it better, maybe they value things a little more. You were in the mood to find out.

You could see his jaw tighten as he slowed the car off the side of the road, gravel crunching under the tires. His fingers curled around the wheel, taut, knuckles white. “Why don't you get in the back?”

If someone told you you’d be in the back of a van, on you way to confront your cheating, sleazebag boyfriend, fucking his dad. That…that you’d bat an eye at.

It was a fast-paced endeavor. Logan had you in a mating press, pushed up against the back seats. Your pants and underwear at your knees, his pants just below his ass. He’s pounding you out in the back of a van, with thrust so hard and deep that it makes your eyes go cross. You beg, “please, please, puh-please!” like that will save you from the brutalization of your poor cunt.

Logan grunts above you, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises as he spreads them wide and keeps you still. “You wanted this, princess. Don’t back out now.” His strokes leave you winded, clawing at the cracked leather seat of his van, squealing like you have no damn sense in the world. “I can’t,” you gasp.

“Yes you can, doll. You can take it.” Fuck– he was using his father voice. Stern, authoritative, the kind of voice you can’t say no to. You could have come right then and there from his voice alone, cooing at your pretty pussy like a cat. He pressed his hips sharply into yours and watched your back arch away from the seats and your eyes prick with tears. “Logan!”

“You act like you’ve never been fucked before. Does my son not do a good job?”

You shook your head feverishly. “Never– ” you swallowed, “–like this.” Never made you cum for that matter. If you knew fucking your boyfriend's father would have been like this, you would have done this a whole lot sooner.

You could feel him in your stomach. You pressed your hand to your belly and felt the bulge of his cock under your skin. You whimpered at the feeling, tracing where his cock head poked through. You could feel him pressing against your tender womb.

You let Logan cum in you. It was easy to with a face like his. You let him sink himself deep inside, a guttural groan rattling out from his throat, satisfied as he emptied his balls inside you. You could help but giggle as he came in you. The thought of possibly having his baby didn't bother you as much as you thought it would. Logan was a good man, well, as good as one can be while fucking his son’s girlfriend.

Logan didn't want to leave you unsatisfied though you were more than used to it. He grabbed your hips and pulled you up, back arching as he dipped down and kissed your cum-soaked pussy. His tongue found your clit with ease, licking tenderly at the bud between your legs, eyes peering over your pelvis, looking down at you.

Your legs trembled over his shoulder, toes pointing with each rough lick against your puffy pussy. “‘s too much, too much.” His lips were latched to your lips, suckling.

Cumming on his tongue was an easy job. He made it so simple yet so powerful. You quivered under every lick, your body rolling with the waves of your orgasm. It was sweet, savory, like tender peaches on a warm, summer evening.

Who knew revenge could taste so sweet?

[dreaming-tonite]

The Necessity of Old-School Dating

— A relationship should start with flowers and a proper confession.

A/N: I just finished x-men 97 and my crush on Kurt when I was like 15 came back in full force. Like, you cannot tell me this man would not go to lengths trying to charm you.

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x reader

Warning: (1) German pet name in the feminine form that hopefully will not ruin this for any German speakers

Word count: ~1.5k

When Kurt Wagner was in love with you, the entire world would know.

He had a lot of love to give, knocking people off their feet (quite literally) when he made his sudden appearances and tackled his friends with full-body hugs. But with you, he was always more careful. While he made no hesitation in finding his way to you in a puff of purple smoke the second he saw you, he always landed just a step away from you.

He grinned ear to ear, glowing eyes curled into thin moons just at the sight of you. His body leaned towards you slightly, aching to be close to you but restraining himself until you reached out for him first. The heat radiating off his body tempted you to close your eyes and allow your mind to sink into his embrace when he immediately pulled you in after getting the go-ahead.

“It is good to see you.” His voice was soft in your ear, the vibrations from his chest seeping into your skin.

He made sure to tell you that every time, even though he must be aware that you already knew how often he told you that. But to him, it was important that you hear it from him.

Kurt never pulls away until you do and the lingering of his touch on your back when he does always leaves your skin tingling.

A true gentleman but with a trickster’s spirit nonetheless. Your back bumped into his anticipating tail, respectfully curved around your form. You gasped when it presented you with a bunch of flowers that he seemingly pulled out of nowhere, the end of his tail holding at the stems.

“Oh, you really shouldn’t have,” you sheepishly said, “today is not even anything special!”

“I like that they make you happy,” he mused, his gaze so soft that it made your face burn, “is that not enough of a reason?”

“They make me very happy,” you smiled and took the bouquet, his tail gently recoiling from behind you to sit neatly against its owner. You pressed the flowers against your chest, the faint scent of petals tucking at your senses, “Thank you, Kurt.”

You did not remember a moment when your room was void of flowers since the very first time he ever gave you any (in fact, you did not even have a vase before that and now it was reserved specifically for flowers he brought you). Some days it was a properly wrapped bouquet, some times it seemed he just saw a daisy on his way and plucked it when he thought of you.

It was a fluttering feeling to be treated special, to have someone show you that you were always on their mind. As much as it was a sweet gesture, it sure was a smart one too. Flowers sitting at the corner of your room reminded you of him whenever your gaze flickered towards them, and it brought a smile to your face whether you intended to or not.

("That brother of mine sure got you smitten for him, doesn't he?"

The sugar-sweet voice broke you out of your trance and you subconsciously stopped toying with the daffodil you had been twirling between your fingers. "I have no idea what you are talking about," you quipped, avoiding Anna-Marie's amused stare.

"Why, is that so?" she crossed her arms in front of her chest in fake thoughtfulness before it broke into a smirk, "Then care to explain what is so special about some little flower that it got you smiling like a fool?"

Your eyes went wide, the smile on your face that you weren't even aware was there dropping in an instant as the realisation hit you in full force.

"Sugar," she said, a loop-sided grin tucked at the corner of her lips, "I know the look of someone in love when I see one.")

They said that if their heart was in the right place then you would never doubt, and he made sure that his intentions were clear from the very moment you caught his eye.

He remembered things you said in passing, asked you to go out for dinners and subtly took note of items your eyes lingered on when you passed by store windows even before there was a proper label to your connection.

Kurt always managed to find excuses to take the long route when he walked with you back to the school. Sure, he could, and usually would, skip the unnecessary process of walking. But the minutes that were saved would be a waste of precious time he could spend with you.

The world was quiet and all was good in these rare moments when you were alone, talking about nothing and everything and all that fell between. He fell a little bit more in love every time you laughed as if his heart was not already threatening to burst out of his chest. He preened in moments like this, standing a little taller and a little closer to you until your shoulders nearly bumped with each slow stride.

And if the knuckle of your fingers happened to brush against his, then he would allow himself to be a bit bold under the disguise of the starry sky to hold your hand.

Kurt was a true believer in the importance of proper courting, putting in the effort and letting the effort be felt. But as much as he enjoyed the tip-toeing and the words that were left unsaid, there came moments when the passion was too much to bear.

It was a night much like any other. You had thought that things were going well, there was laughter and he was being his usual charming self until the two of you started heading back. Under the silver moonlight, he was... quiet. Your gaze flickered towards him in concern but seemingly, he was too deep in his thoughts to notice.

So instead of speaking, you reached for his hand and his walls came crumbling down.

"I wanted to take things slow so that you could consider if my affections, my— my love is worthy for you." He blurted out, accent thicker than usual in a moment of vulnerability. "But recently, I have been plagued by my own selfishness, that the more you have allowed me in your life, the more I crave to have you all to myself."

"Ah, entschuldige, I am rambling," he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling and guiding your hand so that he faced you properly. You reached out to hold his face and he leaned into the touch, sighing in content at the contact and all the more certain that close could never be close enough when it came to you.

"I like to think that any relationship, any romance, should start with flowers and a proper confession, and you deserve nothing less." he paused, his hand reaching up to hold yours firmly. "My heart is in your hands, mein liebe."

Time stopped, and all was still.

The thudding of your heart was the only thing in your ear as he waited for your answer with bated breath.

The first touch was so light he could barely feel it. Your body reacted before your mind could keep up and at the first brush of your cupid's bow against his lips, perhaps the bravest thing you had ever done even though you had been on literal battlefields, your reason immediately got ahold of the better of you. But before you could start to pull away, doubt and logic melted into a puddle when he crashed into you, strong arms holding you firmly as he returned the kiss with one much deeper than the one before.

He kissed you again, and again, getting light-headed when you pressed your palm flat against his chest and kissed him back every single time.

You gasped when you suddenly felt the ground disappearing from under your feet, purple smoke blurring your vision and your feet stumbling when gravity weighted you down once more. Kurt didn't seem to notice it at all, too drunk in having your body flushed against his.

Bamf, bamf, bamf. You nearly stumbled when you landed one last time, his hand finding its way to hold you by the small of your back before you could fall.

He was out of breath and if you could see under the blue fur of his cheeks you were sure he must be blushing like mad. Still heaving, he pressed his forehead against yours.

"Forgive me, I lost control of myself," he closed his eyes, the tip of his nose touching yours, "you have no idea how happy you make me."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you decided that a proper confession deserved a proper answer.

"I love you," you said, "it would be a blessing to call you mine."

He chuckled before leaning in once more, this time soft and tender.

"And me, yours."

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝐏𝐭.𝟑 ♡

Day Seven- Rough sex

【Synopsis】 : Yunho and Mingi couldn't stop thinking about you since they first tainted your beautiful body. They were craving more and lucky for them, exams just finished.

『Word count』 :  3.39k

-> Genre: pwp. College au. Smut.

Pairing: Professor!Yungi x Student!Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Tearing of clothing. Fingering. Breast play. Hickies. Swearing. Pet names. Use of the name Sir, and Slut. Spanking. Sadistic Dom Mingi. Soft Dom Yunho. Unprotected sex. Some anal play. Anal fingering. Recording. Photo taking. Jerking off. Oral [M rec]. Lots of body fluids. Beefy men. Yunho and Mingi are HUGE.

Note: I did not think this was going to get as crazy as it did, but here we are. Part three with our big beefy professors, hehe. Thank you to my darlings who asked for another part. Hehe, i hope you all enjoy ♡

Special tags : @mingis-prince @therealcuppicake @staytiny816 @hwa-sangsbbygrl

Networks: @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet @atzhouse @k-vanity

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Tip Jar

The next few weeks of exams came rolling in quicker than you expected, and it led to you being unable to see Mr Jeong or Mr Song since the encounter. They had wanted to take you back to their place, and you were more than willing, but suddenly Mingi had gotten a call for a teacher meeting, and the evening was reluctantly cut short. Since then, it's been only quick smiles in the halls and knowing glances in class. Saying you were needy was an understatement, and what was worse, you didn’t have either of their socials or numbers. So there had been no contact.

You’re kicking yourself for not asking before they rushed out, leaving you to fix yourself before driving home sore and alone. You didn’t blame them, but it still made you feel like everything was unfinished and you had wished you knew their side of this tense situation.

“I’m telling you Min, If she looks at me with that pretty little smile one more time I think I might just cry.” Yunho huffed downing another glass of whiskey as he slumped onto the couch more. Mingi, on the other hand, who was sitting on the loveseat alone, rolled his eyes. He knew all too well what his friend was feeling. The ache in the heart every time they walked past you. The shortness of breath when you answered one of their questions during a lesson. Every little interaction was driving them crazy and what was worse was they were still kicking themselves for leaving you. “I should’ve asked her for her number. Or tired to make time to ask her how she felt at least.”

“I know Yun but I’m sure she is fine. We told her we were sorry before we left. We helped her get dressed…it wasn’t our fault we got called in.” Mingi had never been the one to reassure his friend, since usually it was always the other way around. But in this case, Yunho had fallen into his own thoughts worried they’d messed up any future with you. But suddenly a thought crossed Mingi’s mind, one he was certain his friend had forgotten. “Exam terms officially end in the new hour.”

He has never seen Yunho jump off a couch faster.

-

“I’m honest. I’m good, just tired.” You reassured your friend, Sky, for the fifth time as she kept pestering you while you and your small group of friends walked towards the car park. “You go on without me.”

“Oh come on. One drink. You gotta celebrate with us.” Sky's boyfriend, Mingyu, smiled, wrapping an arm around your friend's shoulder. You just rolled your eyes at his cheeky expression, trying his best to egg you on. “Oh, what you busy celebrating with someone else, hmm?”

“Yeah, two someones.” Lee Know smickered. Your face grew a few shades darker in blush at the very thought of two tall men. No one knew about your encounter with them. But your friends certainly knew about the big fat crush you had on them. They would have lost it if they found out what your professors had done to you.

“Speaking of which…” Another friend, Nadia, chimed up, giggling a little when they spotted the two very men you had just been thinking about. Both leaning on their car, head to toe in fine suits. Mingi was missing his tie while Yunho’s jacket was unbuttoned.

“You should go talk to them,” Mingyu whispered in your ear, making you jump in fright. You whacked him across his chest, avoiding Sky poorly.

“Ouch! Okay. We are leaving, while honey here is gonna give her best performance in chatting up two hot professors.” She gave you one last smile and a thumbs up for luck before tugging Mingyu along towards their car while the rest of your friends dispersed into the evening. Your eyes caught Yunho’s and you felt your heart begin to race. It feels like it's been years since you’ve last seen them properly. You’ve missed them. And it wasn’t until you were standing only a few inches away from them that you became aware of how much you missed them.

“Hi..” You sounded so small, their eyes boring holes right into your soul. There was hunger in their expressions. Hunger they wished you to feed. Mingi was the first to step forward, snaking his arm around your hips, pulling you flush against him. He leant down to your level, his breath tickling your ear before he whispered;

“Get in the car, sugar. Before I throw you in it.” His lips grazed your cheek, but he didn’t kiss you, no he needed his touch to linger on your skin until it burned through you and you were begging for more. You followed suit, quickly glancing into the now empty parking lot, all your friends gone and most of the cars too. You were finally alone with the two men you had been dreaming about on many restless nights.

The back seat of their lavish car was spacious to say the least. Mingi had situated himself in the driver's seat and you thought Yunho would take the passengers but he in fact climbed into the back with you. The engine started and the rugged man took off into the night. You didn’t even get time to put a seatbelt on as Yunho tugged for you, pulling you onto his lap by your waist, “Yun!”

You couldn’t protest as Yunho’s lips found yours in desperation, his hands gripping your hips tightly fearing if he let go for a single second you’d disappear. “Yunho, you said we’d wait. Calm the fuck down.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Yunho cursed against your tongue at the male in the driving seat. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies inside your gut at the thought these two beef cakes were talking about you and how they would go about ravishing you. It made all the wait almost worth it…almost.

“Yuyu…” You whimpered, shifting your hips, feeling his hardened cock beneath the few layers of fabric separating the two of you. He simply grinned in response, moving his mouth from your swollen lips to your jaw, biting along until he got to your neck. You swore he broke through skin as he sunk his teeth into the flesh of your jugular. Your screams were luckily sealed in the car as Mingi turned up the radio fearing anyone at the red light might hear you. Thank god for tinted windows at least.

“My baby. Mine.” Yunho claimed you as he littered the skin he could reach. But it wasn’t enough. His hands found the drip in your shirt, his fingers hooked around the fabric and ripped it open, leaving a slit down the middle. Your breasts poked out. Your bra holding them up perfectly. His tongue snaked down wetting all over your tits, suckling bright red purple marks where he needed. One of your hands held onto his shoulder while the other gripped tightly onto the man's fluffy locks, yanking at every bump and turn the road gifted you. your clit rubbed harshly against your jeans feeling some relieving pleasure but not enough to send you over the edge. You needed more and you needed it now.

“Yunho, I need you. P-please.” Your movements become more erratic as you try to find more fiction. Yunho just chuckled at your neediness, finally unlatching his lips from your breasts to lean his head against the head rest. “please…”

“My perfect peach. Needing to be touched. Tell me baby, did you wait for us? Or have you touched yourself since we last fucked your brains out?” Yunho’s smirk grew as his hand slowly travelled to the top of your jeans, unbuttoning them slowly as he watched you squirm. Normally in this predicament you’d be too shy to speak your mind but these two have managed to pull a dark side outta you.

“I tried fucking myself every time. But nothing was working. I even used two dildos and it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t you sir.” You gasped as you felt Yunho’s fingers slip past your panties and press snugly against your overly sensitive clit. Your hips thrusts forwards, riding the man's hands for dear life.

“Fuck doll. You’re such a fucking slut. Needing two cocks to satisfy you huh? Don’t worry we’ll fuck you nice and dumb.” Yunho went back to nipping at your flesh, tugging your bra down with his free hand so he could watch your breast spill out of the top. Mingi went over a large speed bump in the next second, causing your tits to bounce in Yunho's face while his fingers slid along your slicked opening. Your moans were music to Mingi’s ears but alas the drive had come to an abrupt end as he nearly took out the fence to get into the driveway. He didn’t even say anything to either of you as you were both lost in your own world to notice he had switched the car off. No, it was only when Mingi opened the back door and snatched you off Yunho’s lap, did you finally gasp out a small scream.

“Come on, Sugar. We’ve got some catching up to do.” his deep growl sent shivers down your spine as he threw you over his shoulder. You were about to protest, hating being picked up. But Mingi left no room for you to speak as he slapped your ass hard, practically leaping for the front door. Yunho steps in front of you both unlocking the door. Neither of them even cared to take their shoes off at that moment, instead, they belined for the bedroom. You could barely even take in your surroundings before you were met with a dimly lit bedroom. Mingi finally placed you down, but you had no time to get a single word out as the large man gripped the rest of your shirt, ripping it into pieces… you liked that shirt.

Mingi’s lips latched onto your own, biting down on your swollen bottom lip. You swore he drew blood at how hard he nipped, but you moaned nonetheless. You felt another presence behind you, now being sandwiched between two huge bodies. The heat seeping off both of them mixing with their strong colognes were enough to make your head spin and your thoughts empty. “S-sirs.”

“Fuck peach I’ve missed hearing that.” Yunho bit your ear lobe as he tore the rest of your clothing off your body, squeezing each curve and plump flesh that was newly exposed. He left you in nothing by your panties, having grown the sudden need to cup your ass. “I’ve missed this too.”

“We still have that video you know…” Mingi’s grunt caused your head to spin, your hands flying for the man’s belt quickly throwing it to the pile of ruined clothing. “Do you know, how many time Yunho and I fucked each other’s fists with the thought of you on our minds.”

“You looked like the perfect peach…” Yunho sinks his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, leaving big red bite marks in his wake. “But nothing.” He slapped your ass, “Beats the real deal.”

“P-please… someone needs to fuck me now,” You whimpered, tugging on the mens dress shirts as if you could bring them closer. Mingi’s lips pecked yours with a cynical grin before he growled;

“Don’t need to ask us twice.” His large hands grabbed your legs, lifting you up in one swift motion before throwing you onto the bed. You landed with a yelp but before you could process what was happening, Mingi had grabbed your ankles and spun you around onto your stomach. “Ass in the air, dollface. Be a nice little slut for me.”

You listened without so much as a peep as you brought your knees up while your head resting on the pillow below you. The nickname he had gifted you ran straight to your core, causing your cunt to clench around nothing. You wiggled your ass side to side, giving both men a nice view. They both couldn't help but groan at the sight, Yunho could feel his cock straining in his slacks while Mingi grabbed you just the hips, yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. “P-please M-min…”

“God I wish you could see what you look like, sugar.” He spread your cheeks, getting a nice voice view of both of your holes. Before you could say anything Mingi gave you a harsh, powerful slap on your right cheek before another and then one more, soothing each smack with his hot open palm. “I can see you clenching, your puffy little cunt begging to be filled.”

“Fuck Mingi, arghnng” You whined, tears threatening to spill from your eyes and stain the pillow below you. The man above you simply laughed at your staggering cry, spreading your ass cheeks further but this time he pressed his thumb firmly on your asshole, groaning at the way it clenched. He wanted nothing more then to fuck your tight hole until you saw stars but alas that took preparing your sweet body for him… and he no longer had any patience to wait.

“Such a cute little thing you are.” His voice rang in your ear as you heard a zipper follow, before a lewd sound of a wet slap. His angry cock head slid between your cheek and down through your folds, mixing his precum and your slick into one big mess. He gave you no time to time for anything as he slammed his cock deep inside you in one hard thrust forcing you to take every inch. You screamed. Your fingers tugging on the bed sheet, your tears and drool dripping onto the black fabric. The burn causes the coil in your gut to snap, feeling an overwhelment of pleasure and pain mixing into a toxic combination. He didn't wait for you to adjust as his thrusts were nothing but cruel, taking and fast. He was chasing his own pleasure, using your body like his own personal flesh light and you could do nothing but scream for more.

“Sit up, Peach.” You felt a pair of hands lift you up by your chin. You almost completely forgot about Yunho, a twinge of guilt riddling your brain. But the feeling was quickly brushed aside when you see his thick cock hard against his abdomen. His face was red, sweat on his forehead made his hair stick. It looked as if he had already came prior. And you would be correct. While Mingi was playing his little game, Yunho was recording it while quickly jacking himself off. But now he wanted part of the action. “Open wide.”

You obeyed him without a second thought, letting him slide his length into your waiting throat. His thumb brushed against your wet chin, soothing you in a way while he lost himself in the feeling of your mouth. He jerked forward, testing you. You gagged but held one hand tightly on his thigh, breathing deeply through your nose. He couldn't help but snap his hips again, feeling the way your throat almost swallows him whole. “Fuck, baby. Your mouth is perfect. So fucking warm.”

Both men had lost themselves in the feeling of you. The way your body moved and moulded around them. The way your pussy clenched as Mingi jackhammered you at an unruly pace, spanking each cheek for good measure. The palm prints he left would surely welt and bruise by the mornings. Yunho, on the other hand, had his fingers tightly tangled in your hair, using your mouth like a sex toy. He was gonna fuck your throat until you felt him for days after.

Everything was so overwhelming, stimulating. You needed a push. To take your own pleasure with them. Shakily bring your hand to your puffy clit you pressed down, screaming in a higher-pitch at the feeling. This caused both men to groan and grunt, feeling your body react to the newfound pleasure. "Look at that, Yun. Our princess here is rubbing her little clit to us abusing her precious body."

"Fuck, tell us Peach. Do you like being used as a toy? Just a hole for us to fill." Yunho pulled you off his cock for a second to let you respond but you gasped a whimper instead feeling the cold air sting your sore throat. "Well?"

He slapped your face, not hard, but harsh enough to leave a red mark. "Yes, sir. I love it."

"Such a good baby." Mingi crossed his arms over your hips so he could drill deeper into you at such a pace that got you tipping over the edge without warning.

"M-mingi wa-it fuck." You came so hard you felt like you were going to pass out. But then you felt Mingi stop dead, making you whine at the loss of stimulation.

"Fuck, Yunho. She squirted all over me." Mingi chuckled, pulling out of you completely so he could see your cum and juices leaking out of you, down your thigh and onto the sheets below. Yunho shifted off the bed, dropping your hair. You didn't realise how much he was holding you up until he let go, making your body fall forward, your face smooshing onto the wet pillow. "Looks like I win the bet."

"W-what?" You choked, your voice strained and weak. Both men weren't even paying attention to your words, no, instead Yunho grabbed his phone to snap a photo of your leaking cunt and Mingi's soaked cock. Both men, talking as if you weren't there, merely admiring your body like some sculpture. Like their perfect masterpiece. "Yuyu....Min."

"There there, baby." Yunho calms you by rubbing your thick thighs. Mingi, on the other hand, gave your ass another slap, making you jump.

"Go on, Yuyu..." Mingi used your petname with a smirk almost mocking you, "take her for a spin."

Yunho didn't wait for another word from either you or Mingi. Pushing the other male away, he tugged you by your hips towards him. He sunk his cock into your pussy making you shiver in the new type of pleasure. Unlike Mingi, who had girth on his side. Yunho was long. Like he could hit the gummy g-spot with that type of length kinda long. His thrusts were just as hard and powerful as Mingi, but there was a hint of desperation. A desperate feeling of wanting to feel you come around him. To come with you. "So tight, tiny. Fuck. Im gonna nut deep inside you. Come on let me do that."

"Yes, please. I need your cum." You cried, clenching around him feeling your climax approaching quicker than the previous ones.

"You want Yunho's cum princess. What about mine?" Mingi stroked your red check, watching your wet eyes slowly look up at him.

"I want you both. Please fill me." You pleading, using the little strength left to sit up so your face was in line with Mingis dick.

"Thats our girl." He helped himself, slipping his cock into your sore mouth. You let both men use you to your body's breaking point. Feeling the rush of pleasure and pain mixing into a cloud of overestimation. You didnt last long, cumming tightly around Yunho. His roar came with stuttering hips as he was second to finish, snapping his cock so deep he could empty his seed directly into your womb.

Lastly was Mingi, letting his thick cum slip down your pretty throat, some spilling out the sides, dripping down your chin and onto the ruined sheets. Your brain had fogged over, and tiredness was quick to consume you. You didn't even bother to listen to what the two men were saying, letting sleep consume your being. Content, full, and happy.

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[pholla-jm]

Heir

IMAGINE: HEIR ~ SUKUNA X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: sukuna is a bit ooc. fem!reader. not proof read. set in the heian era. true form sukuna. ***************

If someone were to tell Sukuna that in some years that he would have a wife, he would laugh at them… and then kill them. 

But here he was, thinking about how his beautiful wife looked with a small bump on her tummy. It’s all he could think about really. Ever since he found out his wife is pregnant, his view of the world changed. 

Sure, he still thinks that humans were lowly disgusting vile, but the world seemed like a better place with you and his future child in it. 

His every day activities seemed a little less fun now, and all he thought about was getting back home to his wife. 

After a day full of people worshiping him and some killing, he made his way back to his castle. Where his wife should be patiently waiting for him. 

******** 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hear the deep voice of your husband call out causing you to jump a little. 

He had found you in a different room. It was bare at first, but you were starting to add things to the room. 

You were working on a traditional crib for the baby, having different silks laid out in front of you to choose. 

It was a bit early to start getting ready for the baby, but you were too excited.

You turn to look at him. He towered over you, with his four arms crossed as he looked at you with a disappointed look. 

“I just want to make sure that the baby’s room is going to be perfect.” You say turning back to the silks. 

Sukuna hums, sitting down next to you while observing the objects in front of you. 

“How long have you been doing this?” You shrug, “not that long.” 

“You could always have the servants do this, you know? You shouldn’t be working so hard.” 

“Yeah, I know. I just feel like if I do this myself, it feels more special.” 

Sukuna breathes out a happy breath, leaning his chin on one of his fists. He knew that you would make a great mother. Someone that is nurturing, and he knows that his future son will be loved and taken care of. 

“Still, you should be taking care of yourself. It’s important that you and our son are completely healthy.” 

You perk up hearing the word ‘son’. “Son? It’s a bit too early to know the gender.” 

Sukuna just smirks, eyeing you up and down. “Trust me, I know it’s going to be a boy.” You laugh, “oh yeah? How so?”

He points at your belly, “It’s lower. A low stomach means it’s going to be a boy.” 

Your eyes widen and you look away from him in disbelief. “Where did you even hear that? I didn’t know you believed in old wives tales anyway.” 

“It’s not an old wives tale if it’s the current talk.” “The current talk? What, are you gossiping with the local ladies now?” You laugh at the idea of Sukuna gossiping causing him to frown. “Whatever woman. What they say is true.” “Okay, we’ll see.” 

"I don't want you working on this room by yourself anymore. I have to be here to help you, okay?" You nod your head, a bit happy that Sukuna came up with a quick compromise. "Sound good to me. You can do all the heavy lifting."

Sukuna nods, then points at one of the silks that are laid out in front of you. It was a darker colored one, something that you knew he would like. “This one. It’ll be great for our son.” 

You decide not to comment on the son thing again. With a smile, you pick it out and put it to the side.

Pushing your hands on the ground, you start to get up from the ground. “What are you doing?” “I have to use the bathroom.” You say. However, Sukuna gets up faster than you. He gently picks you up, carrying you bridal style. “I can walk by myself.” You tell him with a small smile. 

You appreciate that Sukuna doted on you like this, but you don’t know how long you would be able to babied like this. 

“When I’m around, you’re not doing a single thing. You understand?” 

With a content sigh, you relax in his arms. Head resting on his shoulder, hearing the faint sound of his heartbeat.

“Yes, my beloved, I understand.”

[arpicityandneed]

You, Me, and the King

18+ f!reader. King bucky. Knight Steve. Queen reader. Dirty talk. polyship. light choking. creampie. Cuckolding. Voyeur!Steve.

~

If anyone noticed the visible bulge in the Steve's breeches they knew better than to say anything. The hefty sword he carried on his hip mixed with the deadly glare he gave everyone that passed by helped. They also knew better than to comment on the high pitched wails coming from the door Steve was guarding with his life. The new King and Queen were still on their honeymoon, locked away for days on end as they worked to fulfill their duty to the kingdom.

"J-James!"

He had you on your knees, your arms long since having given out as he thrusted into you. Every plap plap plap of his balls against your swollen clit echoed by the squelching of your pussy gobbling up his cock greedily. James pulled you up until his hand was around your throat, his hips never ceasing as he forced your back to arch. It made you squeal when he hit that special spot inside you. (Outside the door Steve had to clench his jaw and readjust his erection. He knew exactly what that sound meant, he heard it often enough now.)

You were usually quiet and shy, hiding at your King's side and whispering in his ear when you did have something to say. But every single time James got his cock in you, you couldn't help yourself. And your husband loved it.

"That's it my Queen. Let them, fuck, let him hear you sing for me." James let his scarred left arm wrap around you, his massive hand finding your clit easily as he fucked himself into your slick folds. You'd long since felt your own juices run down to your knees. You were sure James' balls were sticky as well.

"Please, James, I can't-" you sobbed as you came again, milking his thick shaft and making him curse.

"But you can, my love. Just a couple more. You have to if you're to give me an heir." He cooed at you, holding up your limp body as you tried to keep up with his endless stamina.

"Steve will lick you all better if you're sore later, promise." Your pussy tightened at the mention of your husband's head knight making James groan loud and filthy in your ear.

The man had grown up with your King, and you knew James trusted him more than he trusted anyone else. He'd even entrusted you to the blond. When your King was busy and you were aching, it was Steve who used his mouth and his fingers to make you feel all better. You'd even had him in your mouth when you felt bold. You wanted to practice, get better at pleasing your new husband. Steve always taught you so kindly knowing exactly what his King liked. You suspected they were more intimate than they let on and the thought made your pussy throb. But you'd never had Steves cock inside you. It was the one rule you had to follow. So when your husband mentions Steve you can't stop the embarrassed whimper that escapes you.

"I know, I know, you want his cock too." Your face burned at the truth of his words, and he laughed feeling your pussy get impossibly tight around him. "Just gotta let my cum all the way in your pretty tummy first. Gotta give me an hier."

"I'll be g-good, give you baby. Promise!" You knew Steve could hear every single word. Knew he'd be suckling on your clit later as he fucked James' cum back into you with his thick fingers when it leaked out. The very thought made you cum again, your fluttering walls dragging James along with you. He cursed, his grip tightening around your throat as his cock throbbed inside you.

"Take it my love, take every fucking drop-" He growled as he grabbed at the fat of your hip, using the leverage to fuck every spurt of cum deeper than the last.

When you both collapsed onto the bed, he cradled you to his chest kissing you slow and deep and drugging. You expected him to let you go to help you clean up a bit like he normally did. But he made no move to separate himself from you. You felt your cheeks heat once more when you realized why.

"James-" Your husband's icy blue eyes were locked onto where your bodies were joined, of the creamy mess he'd made of your pussy, but he seemed to know what you were asking if the smirk on his plump lips was anything to go by.

"Shh, just making sure it takes."

[lale-txt]

❦ IDLE HANDS (Kuroo x f!reader)

Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two.

a/n: little something for @husbandograveyard ♡ writing this made me a Kuroo girlie. i get it now. i really, REALLY do. also when i started writing this i was aiming for 1k or so idk what possessed me but here we are. maybe listening to bouncy while writing this wasn't the best idea (lie)

tags: f!reader, mild enemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, shameless flirting, food mention, bit of a slow burn, they're so in love your honor

wc: 3.7k

Kuroo Tetsuro is a heartthrob.

With his stupid messy hair and his stupid rolled up sleeves, showing off his stupid toned arms while he’s mumbling stupid sweet things to your favorite cat that’s currently coiling underneath his stupid big hand, getting the best belly rubs of her life from the looks of it. 

It’s not like you’re jealous or something, no; it’s just that you’ve been coming to this cat café for a year now and you thought you and the calico shared a special bond. Maru, who is just as her name implies, very round and very soft, has been sitting and purring by your side while you spend hours typing page after page of your next book. She’d also stretch out all over your laptop and remind you to take a break when you’ve been going at it for hours. Yes, it took you some bribery to win her heart but over the past months she really warmed up to you. Wow, she usually isn’t this friendly with people, you remember the café owner say once. 

What a blatant lie. 

Your peace has been disturbed. A slight shift in the universe when he showed up for the first time merely a week ago. It was easy to remember him, because he was sitting in your spot with your favorite cat purring in his lap, looking like he didn’t have a single worry in the world except maybe that untamed hair of his (and even this was kind of charming, you had to admit begrudgingly).

Sharing usually wasn’t a big deal for you–until it was. You come to this cat café almost every day, feeling much more inspired to write here than in the shoebox you call your apartment at the other end of town. Your landlady doesn’t allow pets, so this place has been a lifeline in the tiring times of deadlines and rejected book deals. At the end of the day there was always a cat rubbing against your legs, reminding you that not everything was bad and that no matter how severe things got, there was always a kitty waiting to be picked up.

You hold this place very dear to your heart, a secret gem you felt a need to protect. It is hidden away in a side street, far from the hectic buzz of the city. The interior is cozy, it isn’t too big and the owner, an elderly lady with candy cotton hair and knuckle tattoos, lives upstairs and treats the place like her second living room with all six of her cats. There’s never too many other guests around and in the corner seat by the window you can unravel your thoughts quietly. It feels homey, something you haven’t felt in a long time.

But now there is an intruder in a business suit and you didn’t really know how to deal with that new found irritation.

“That’s my spot.”

Balancing your laptop, notebook, a slice of carrot cake and a hot drink in one hand, all manners aside, you point at the stranger with your other. In your right mind you know it is rude to point at people, but to be fair he kinda started it by sitting where you rightfully belong. His eyes, a certain gleam in them, follow your movement down to the cat curled up on top of his thighs. With the amount of cat hair sticking to his suit pants you could only pray for him that he had a lint roller somewhere at his desk. 

He cocks his head to the side, giving you a boyish smirk that maybe would make your heart skip a beat if it wasn’t for his audacity. 

“Usually I ask someone’s name first and take them on a few dates before I let them sit in my lap, but I guess I can make an exception,” he replies and you never in your life before wanted to strangle someone so badly. If that wasn’t already worse enough, the tuxedo cat lifts its small head and slowly blinks at you before jumping down from his lap, as if it was trying to make space for you. My bad, didn’t know this seat was taken. Here, girl, you have it.

For once in your life you’re too stunned to speak. You watch the stranger check his watch and let out an almost inaudible sigh before he grabs his backpack (one that looks like he has had it since high school) and stands up to full height. He’s in your space now and you have to crank your neck slightly to meet his eyes. Mentally you’re adding stupidly tall to your list of things you hate about him. 

“Gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

True to his words he is there the next day, too. This time around you managed to secure your spot by the window, three cats idly sleeping next to you on. You’ve been stuck on a paragraph for almost an hour now when the doorbell chimes and his figure appears at the counter. The cats look up with interest but you force yourself not to pay any attention to him, which is hard when his order is literally “I’ll have whatever she is having”, followed by a nod in your direction and this cheeky smile again. 

This damn smile.

“You didn’t strike me as a dirty chai drinker,” you deadpan when he takes a seat at the table next to yours. The café is almost empty around this time of the day, which is no surprise since most of the workers in this district are having a hearty meal for lunch and not whatever sweet delicacies this place is offering. 

He peels himself out of his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. The same cat as yesterday jumps into his lap immediately after he sits down, giving you a look of “if you don’t want him, I’ll take him” and you almost roll your eyes. Kuroo (you learn his name from the ID he is wearing around his neck) seems to notice and he grins at you. 

“Then what did I strike you as?” he asks, his chin resting in one hand while his other finds the soft fur of the kitty, stroking it gently. 

You look him up and down, now taking your time while stretching out the silence between you two. Only the purring of the cats and the soft music in the background could be heard. At first glance he seems like your typical office worker in the three piece suit who spends his time filling out spreadsheets and drinking cheap vending-machine coffee from the conbini next door. Everything a little rumpled, himself included, someone so used to tristesse he doesn’t even notice it anymore. 

Only at second glance do you notice the small wrinkles around his eyes, not from age but from laughter. The dimples when he smiles down at the tuxedo cat in his lap, now showing off its belly. His calloused hands, atypical for an office worker, more like you’d see them at craftsmen or athletes. Something in his eyes that radiates warmth and an air of calm confidence. None of it is unpleasant.

“If I had to guess, maybe three espresso with a pump of caramel and honey,” you say, more to yourself than to him. Kuroo looks at you in surprise before barking out a laugh. You hate how you like the sound of it.

It’s the beginning of spring and you award Kuroo Tetsuro the title of the greatest nuisance you’ve ever met.

In the midst of summer, you pity him. 

“I’m just saying that maybe you radiate a natural fragrance of catnip,” you say as you stir your iced oat milk latte. Kuroo got you that one when he popped in during his lunch break and saw that your glass must have been empty for a while. By that time you were hunched over your laptop, trying to decipher your notes from last night. You had saved him a seat at your table, but if he asked you, you’d say you just happened to put all your belongings on one chair and nothing more.

The man is swarmed by the cats of the café. They didn’t even bother to hide who their favorite is, rubbing around his legs, sitting pressed to his side or just straight up climbing his shoulders. It would’ve been enviable if he wasn’t already sweating from wearing a suit in the humid heat of the summer month alone. 

“Can you get at least one or two off me?” he asks and his tone is close to pleading. It makes you laugh as you stretch out in your light sundress, giving him a look as if you’re contemplating his question. 

“I could, but it’s really much funnier seeing you struggle like that. Serves you well,” you chime and pull out your phone, snapping a photo of this moment. You hold it up for him to see, a kitty phone charm dangling from it (they just happened to come in a pack of two and you gifted him one out of generosity, nothing more). He snatches it from your hands and makes a face.

“So you like seeing me suffer, is that how it is?” he snarls at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His slender fingers fly over the screen of your phone and you let out a small gasp.

“Don’t you dare delete it,” you huff and grab the orange tabby mercifully off his shoulders so you can lean over him better. 

“Relax. I’m only saving my contact info since you never bothered asking me for it despite being my constant for the past three months.”  

There was this cheeky smile again. You blame the flutter of your heart on the caffeine and not the way his pupils are dilating when he gazes at you. 

He loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Suddenly you’re very aware of how close you’re leaning over at him. Kuroo gives you a little glance from the corner of his eyes and taps the now revealed side of his neck. 

“What do you say? Do I really smell like catnip?” 

Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two. You can feel the heat radiating off him and for a brief moment you wonder what it would feel like to press open mouth kisses on his skin. Your eyes flutter shut as you engrave this moment into your heart. 

“Definitely irresistible,” you murmur once you pull back–reluctantly, as if a hidden part of you ached to be in his proximity, in the inside of his soul.  

By autumn you miss him on the days when he was gone. 

He traveled quite a lot. You didn’t know one would need to be on the road so much for something as simple as volleyball (you can imagine the look he’d give you over this). But he was passionate about it and that’s also something you liked about him. The way he talks about the sport holds so much love and you wonder what it would feel like to be loved by a man like Kuroo Tetsuro.

Gentle, you think. Honest. Treasured.

A tap against the window pulls you out of your thoughts and when you look up, you're met with a pair of honey glazed eyes. Whatever he sees when he looks at you, it’s making him grin from ear to ear before he hurries towards the entry door, eager to meet you again.

Kuroo is holding up a bag, some brand of sweets from Hokkaido he’s been texting you about, but you didn’t think he’d actually go so far and bring you some. He sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he rushed all the way to get here and when he keeps on rambling, you order him and yourself a hot matcha boba and a chocolate mousse to share. 

The cats are happy to see him back too, and you laugh when you help him take his scarf off before some kitty claws can tangle up in it. It was a precious gift after all, one you knitted for him, under the feeble excuse of “keeping my hands busy helps me come up with ideas for my writing process”. It makes you happy to see him wearing it, and the color makes you feel as if you took the red string of fate connecting you two and turned it into something to help him stay warm.

You think a lot about kissing him now. Sometimes your hands would brush against each other on the table, neither of you pulling away. He spends his lunch breaks with you and comes to pick you up from the café in the evening, walking you to your station. The two of you still bicker at each other, but underneath lies a certain kind of softness, one that feels too fickle to put it into words just yet but also too bright to ignore. The leaves of the trees are falling and so are you. 

With winter comes snow and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, it’s unadulterated love. 

You spend a lot of time huddled together in the corner by the window now. He looks over your shoulder when you type on your laptop, one arm resting idly on the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your spine sometimes. You don’t think he even notices when he lets them run up and down there. Often you forget which cups on the table belong to who but it doesn’t matter since you order the same things anyway and because this could count as an indirect kiss, right? 

On some days he’d just close his eyes and laze next to you, with his head resting on his folded arms on the table and your fingers idly weaving through his hair, before he had to hurry back to work. On others he would tell you excitedly about a special match he was organizing and you can hear the pure joy in his voice. It’s contagious.You get them now, the cats. How drawn they are to him, like chasing sunbeams. 

He spells L-O-V-E on your back with his fingertips and something inside of you softens. 

Then there’s snow, more snow than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and Kuroo comes to pick you up early, the tip of his ears bright red and his cold hands seeking yours to warm them up. 

“I’m really sorry but I’m closing the shop early today,” the café owner apologizes and puts a box of cinnamon rolls for you on your table. “You two kittens better hurry and get home, too. On the radio they said they’re gonna shut everything down soon.”

It can’t be that bad, you think. But when Kuroo and you stand in front of the closed station, it dawns on you that maybe you’ve underestimated the amount of snow a teeny tiny bit. You huddle a little closer to him for warmth and to shield yourself against the snow as you pull out your phone. 

“If there’s no more trains running, I better start looking for a place to stay. With some luck there’s still a few vacant rooms in the hotels nearby…”

Kuroo puts a hand over your screen and gives you a stern look when you open our mouth to protest. 

“You can crash at my place for the night. I live close by," he mutters and it doesn’t really leave room to decline his offer. Maybe it’s not really an offer to begin with; more of a silent pleading to stay. Not just for the duration of the snowstorm, but forever maybe. 

His place is just like you imagined it would be like. Not overly spacious but it feels like a home in every corner. There’s photos on the wall, back from when he was a kid to his high school and college years, and pinned with a magnet to the fridge is also a polaroid he took of you back in summer. In it you’re laughing about something silly he said and you’re holding up two cats at once, one strap of your sundress almost slipping down your shoulder. You still remember how he fixed it for you because you didn’t have a hand free and how his fingers lingered for longer than necessary. 

You hope one day he won’t pull his hand away anymore.

The apartment is certainly not messy but you can see he lives in this place, with some papers scattered across the coffee table and the unmade bed and the slightly concerning stock of buldak noodles in the kitchen shelves (in which you peeked out of curiosity into while he was in the shower). You imagine yourself living here, too. Maybe you’d get a cat on your own and plants for the balcony once this winter was over. 

The laundry machine rumbles quietly in the background after you step out of the bathroom, too. It wasn’t just the steamy shower that had your cheeks feel hot, it was also his clothes that he put out for you, with his scent lingering on them and engulfing you softly. Kuroo appears with two cups from the kitchen and pauses when he sees you, his mouth opening and closing again as his eyes flicker over your form. He doesn’t want to stare but also he does want to stare, wants to drink you in and memorize every detail of this moment. 

You can see his Adam's apple bop slightly when he swallows and nods over to the couch, and it’s at this moment that you know you’re not leaving this apartment again before every inch of your skin has been plastered in kisses. 

“It’s not as good as the one’s at the café but I tried my best for my special guest,” he laughs quietly when he hands you your cup, his fingers brushing against yours. The hot chocolate looks impossibly sweet, with whipped cream and sprinkles on top (they’re not ordinary sprinkles, you realize, but tiny cat shaped ones), and the first sip would’ve been enough to send you in some higher spheres if you weren’t in a state of bliss due to his proximity already. You put the cups to cool down on the coffee table and sink into the couch. 

Outside the snow is falling relentlessly, muffling the sounds of the outside world and opening up a new one, right here in these four walls.

In his arms. 

Without realizing you both settled down in your now familiar positions, only closer this time. Huddled next to each other, with one of his arms around your shoulder drawing you nearer to him. It feels natural, the way your head comes to rest against his shoulder and your legs thrown over his lap, the two of you sharing a blanket. 

He’s warm. Kuroo is so warm. 

And when he presses a fleeting kiss on top of your head it’s like everything is falling in place; the months of pining and yearning and unspoken desire. In the midst of a snowstorm both of your hearts are set ablaze, with a tenderness you haven’t experienced in this lifetime before. You sure hope he will find you in the next and the one after that as well because you never want to miss his embrace ever again. 

“That’s my spot,” you murmur and Kuroo laughs, the kind with his head tilted back and his chest rumbling. His grip around you tightens and he pulls you impossibly closer, till you’re really in his lap now, your head tucked under his chin. 

“Damn right it is.” 

You can feel his heart drum, or maybe it’s your own that’s doing somersaults–either way, it’s the same rhythm, a steady thrumming and rattling, begging to be felt. Time seems to freeze at this moment and you’re both quiet. Cat’s got your tongue. Kuroo has both arms around you now, and one of his hands settles on your waist, at the part where your sweatshirt is bunched up a little. His thumb draws small patterns against your bare skin, his touch featherlight and gentle.

You lift your head, only enough so you can catch his gaze. For the first time in your life you understand what it means to have your heart in your throat, because he takes your breath away with a simple glance. His other hand comes to rest against your cheek, cupping your face softly while his grip around your waist tightens a fraction.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters and you can see his sharp teeth flash in the corner of your eyes when he laughs. 

“Like what?” “You know what.” “I think I’ll need to have it spelled out for me.”

He laughs again and this time he leans in closer till his breath is fanning over your skin and everything is happening all at once. Honey and caramel eyes asking you to drown in them. The heat of his body mingling with yours. Your fingers playing with the shaved part of hair in the back of his neck, sending small shivers down his spine.

“Oh, I’ll spell it out for you alright.”

Kuroo kisses you with all the gentleness of the world. It feels as natural as if he had done this countless times before, as if he had kissed you in every life prior to that. He hums into the kiss and smiles when your lips part for him so willingly, and then he deepens the kiss in a way that makes you forget your name for a heartbeat or two. 

Sweet, you think. Soft and saccharine. And warm. So warm. The same what loving Kuroo feels like.

[httpdwaekki]

tummy | s.c.

wc: 2.7k

summary: binnie is feeling a bit insecure about he tummy, but you’re there to tell him how much you love it.

warnings: smut 18+ (MDNI), chubbyfem!reader, tummy praise !!!, petnames, hand job (m. rec), unprotected sex (use protection!!), crying, def more, read at ur own risk!!

a/n: happy binnie day!!! happy birthday to my favorite boy <33 and of course i had to do a lil something for his tummy :3 this is week two or binnie month w @straykeedz !! special thank you to @thefantasyden for doing a quick proofread for me <33. i hope you enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

자기야 = honey.

my library | bee’s vers | bee | binnie month | fundraiser

(photos not mine! credit to owners!)

you love binnie’s tummy, you never let him forget it, and you touch it every chance you get.

but you had noticed a slight change in him. he was wearing less compression shirts and would tense up whenever you’d even brush his tummy. you knew what was happening, you knew the feeling all too well.

you made it your mission to make sure he knew how much you loved his tummy. and you finally got your chance.

you walk into your bedroom to find him laying on your bed, fresh out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist. the water droplets still drying on his tan skin - his soft tummy on full display. he had his legs hanging off the front of your bed, scrolling through his phone, oblivious to your presence.

you make your way over to where he was, grabbing his attention as you climb onto the bed. he moves his phone, focusing on you as you move to lay on his tummy. you feel him tense for a moment, before he relaxes, putting his phone down next to him, giving you a soft smile.

“hi 자기야.” he whispers, placing one hand on your cheek, the other laying the cover the rest of his tummy. you feel a pang in your chest as you glance at his hand, covering his tan skin.

“hi bub.” you whisper back, placing a hand on top of the one that’s on your cheek. you look at each other for a moment before you turn your head, placing kisses across his soft tummy, feeling him tense once more

your hand still holding his, thumb brushing his fingers in a soothing motion- you sit up on your knees next to him, taking his free hand in yours.

you lean down, placing more kisses, looking up at him through your lashes as you place your lips across his plush tummy. you pull away, moving yourself to straddle him, placing his hands to your soft thighs.

you lean down to become eye level with him, place your hands on his cheeks. his eyes are wide, filled with confusion, the slightest glint of unshed tears.

“you know you’re gorgeous right?” you ask searching his eyes for any refusal. “and that i love your tummy so much, it’s one of my favorite parts of you.” the tears now prominent on his lash line, he shakes his head slighty. your heart breaks a little, you feel a familiar sting behind your eyes.

“you know how you always tell me how much you love every part of me, especially my tummy because you know i’m eating good and healthy.” he nods his head as a tear slips down his face. you quickly wipe the tear, continuing the soothing motion.

“i feel the same way about you. you’re the reason i can look at my tummy and not feel completely disgusted with myself. because i see a piece of you in myself when i look in the mirror. and i could never feel that way about you.” you feel a tear slip down your cheek, ignoring it, focusing on the man in front of you.

you lean back, quickly ridding yourself of your shirt, exposing your chubby tummy to him. leaving you in only your pink panties, feeling vulnerable under his gaze. you place his hands on either side of your waist, before continuing, “is this ugly or disgusting to you?” you ask quietly, slightly scared of the answer but you knew he needed this.

he shakes his head quickly, more tears shedding in wake of the movement. “then why is it any different from this?” you place your hands on his soft tummy.

you lean down, placing more kisses to the area, rubbing gentle circles to his sides as you do. his hands fall to your thighs once again, drawing circles on each one.

you kiss your way up his sternum, giving his pecs a few stare kisses as well before each nipple. he inhales a sharp breath as you kiss the sensitive buds.

you kiss all the way up his neck, across his jawline, each cheek before coming face to face with him. “i love you no matter what you look like,” you pause looking into his eyes, “as long as you’re happy and healthy, i don’t care if you have abs or a chubby tummy. as long as you are alive and well i will love you and your body no matter what, okay?”

his eyes are bloodshot but full of love as they look into yours. he sniffles, nodding his head before you lean down, giving him a passionate kiss. you bring one hand up to his cheek, the other staying on his tummy.

his hand moves to your cheek, pulling you impossibly closer. after a couple minutes, you pull away resting your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“i love you so much.” he whispers, his chest raising and falling as he breathes. you smile pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “can i show you how much i love you?” you ask quietly against his skin.

he nods softly, pulling you back to his lips once more. you slowly make your way back down his body, leaving kisses as you make your way down, sparing a few extra to his tummy. you carefully kneel in front of the bed as he sits up.

you undo his towel, revealing his semi hard length, his pink tip leaking slightly. you give his thighs soft kiss each, causing him to tense, inhaling sharply, looking down at you.

you kiss your way up his thigh before grabbing his cock, give his tip a kiss. you move up, placing a kiss to his lips. “relax pretty boy,” you whisper against his lips, your thumb brushing his tip, causing him to stutter. “i got you, 자기야.” he groans into your mouth, kissing you before pulling away.

“you’re gonna be the death of me.” he sighs, leaning back on his hands. you giggle, placing kisses on body as you stroke his dick, making sure to pay extra attention to the glistening tip.

“god i love your tummy,” you say quietly into the soft flesh, picking up your movements, tightening your hand slightly.

“ah- fuck.” he hisses, throwing his head back, a hand coming up to cover his face. you grab his hand on his face, lacing his finger through yours, placing the intertwined hands on his thigh.

you feel his tummy tighten under your lips, signaling him coming closer to his release. you kiss your way up his body once, making it up to his ear, nibbling on the lobe.

“i know you close baby boy,” you kiss behind his ear, “let go.” you place a kiss to his jaw, giving extra attention to his tip, sending him tumbling into his release.

he squeezes your hand, turning his head into you as he groans, his cum spurts all over his soft tummy and your hands. you stroke him through his orgasm, his breathing heavy as he comes down from his high.

you pull away, looking at the mess he created, wasting no time bringing your hand down up to lick the salty substance off your fingers. you keep eye contact as you pull the digits out of your mouth.

“god i fucking love you.” he grabs your cheeks pulling your lips back to his. you grab the edge of the large towel, wiping his tummy before he grabs your hips, manhandling you onto his lap. you let out a noise of surprise into his mouth and as he grips your waist.

your arms wrap around his shoulder as he pulls your legs to wrap around his waist, pulling back slightly. “hold on sweet girl.” he warns but barely gives you time to react before he stands up.

he tosses the towel to the side, before laying you on the mattress. he places a kiss to the white bow on your panties, moving up to your soft tummy. mirroring exactly what you did to him, placing soft kisses over your tummy, trailing them up your sternum, placing a kiss to each peaked bud.

his arms move to cage you in, kissing up your neck and jaw, coming face to face to you. you smile, your hands coming up to lay on his biceps, turning your head to give one a kiss. “hi 자기야.” he whispers, loving eyes, flicker across your whole face.

“hi pretty boy.” you whisper back, bringing your hand up to lay against his chubby cheek. your thumb brushes his soft lips as he places a kiss to your kiss, pulling a giggle from you.

“as much as i love you worshiping my body, i thought it’s your turn this time big boy.” you lean up, placing a kiss on his soft lips. you tap his bicep, “come on.” you say against his lips.

he sighs before flipping over, laying flat on his back next to you. you sit up on your knees patting his thigh, “scoot up bub.” he complies, moving to lay against the pillows.

once he settled you moved to straddle him, your clothed core pressing against his bare semi hard cock. you lean down, hands finding his plush tummy once more as your lips find his.

you rock your hips, as your lips move against his, feeling him harden beneath your soaked panties. he has one hand positioned on your thigh, the other on your cheek, keeping you close to him.

he moaned into the kiss, kneading the soft flesh of your thigh. you pull away, sliding your thumbs into the waistband of your pink garment. you move your leg to get up but he quickly brings a hand up to stop it.

you pause looking at him, silently asking him what was wrong. “sorry-“ he gently pulls your leg back to the bed, bringing his hands to your hips. “can you just- lean back for me for a second baby.”

you listen, leaning back, placing your hands between his legs for balance. your legs spread a bit at the action, revealing the darkened spot on your panties to him.

he brings his hand up to rest on your pelvis, thumb rubbing slow circles on your clothes clit. “ah.” you sigh at the slight stimulation, your breathing picking up. he slowly picks up the pace, “look you, my sweet girl, treating me so well.” he sits up, causing you to fall back a little further.

he places kisses in the little bow on your waistband before sparing a kiss to your tummy. “my baby deserves something too, no?” his circles becoming faster and tighter, just like the coil in your belly.

“ah- bin-nie” you stutter, the more the coil tightens. you’re breathing is heavy, your hips have amind of their own, grinding against the signle digit.

“come on, bunny, give it to me, give it to binnie.” his words causing the coil to snap instantly.

“ah- fuck!” you whine, bringing a hand up to your tit, squeezing the soft flesh, brushing your senstive nipples in the process. “binnie- ah.” you moan as he continues the stimulation through your high.

once you come down he takes in the now bigger darkened patch. he places a kiss to the soaked fabric before tapping your leg, helping you pull off the material.

once you relax again, back in your previous position, leaning on your elbows this time. he uses one hand to spread your lips, giving your bundle a flick or two, your legs spasm at the action.

you sit back up, meeting him face to face, pushing him back down on the bed, “this is still about you, you know?” you ask, rolling your hips, causing your wet core to slide against his hard cock.

“you ready?” you whisper, looking into his eyes. he nods leaning up to give your lips a peck. you reached down, pumping his length a few times before rubbing his angry, leaking tip between your wet folds.

“ah fuck bunny.” he hisses, his hands finding your thighs once more, gripping the flesh. you whine as you slowly sink down on his thick length, thankful for your arousal allowing for easier access.

once you’re fully seated on his cock you lay onto his chest for a moment, enjoying the closeness and getting used to the stretch. he brings his arm to wrap around you, placing a kissing to the side of your head before you lift it.

“hi pretty boy.” you say softly, smile spreading across your face. “hi pretty girl.” he replies just as softly, smile gracing his lips.

you place you hands firming on his chest, bouncing slightly, your mouth falling open at the sensation. “fuck.” you whisper, dropping your head in pure bliss.

his cock stretching you so deliciously, the postion making it so he hits that one gummy spot that makes your toes curl. changbin wasn’t doing much better, one hand on your knee, the other squeezing your tit, pinching your nipples.

“ah! fuck i’m so full.” you groan, feeling filled to the brim and loving every second.

his hand drops to your bundle of nerves, pulling a high pitched moan from you. you slide your hands down to his soft tummy, loving the way it feels under your touch.

“fuck look at you,” you look at him as you bounce. “my big boy making me feel so good, like no else ever could.” you caress the soft skin, feeling him tense under your touch as your own release approaches.

“fuck i love you so much.” he groans, before thrusting up into your, making you lost your balance and fall into his chest. “i love you too.” you moan.

“rub your pretty little clit for me baby.” you comply, to fucked out to think about anything but changbin and your release.

you bring your hand down between your bodies, finding the senstive nub, rubbing quick circles. you clench at the added stimulation, pulling a groan from the man below you.

“god it’s like you’re made for me.” you nod, tears feeling your eyes because of the pleasure and love you have for him. he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back as you ride him.

“made for binnie.” you babble, your circles getting sloppier, boucy becoming hard as your legs give out.

he takes notice of this, wrapping his arms tighter before quickly thrusting into you, pulling a silent scream from you. your eyes roll to the back of your head as changbin pounds into you, chasing both your releases.

“ah! fuck i love you, you fill me up so good, mine.” you babble, pure ecstasy floods your veins.

“i can feel it 자기야, let go for me, show me how much you love me.” the coil snaps once more, you’re not even sure you’re rubbing your clit, your fingers just brushing it with every thrust.

he follows soon after, your release was enough to send him other the edge. “ah- fuck .” he moans in your ear as he cums. he fucks you through both your orgasms before he stills, keeping you on him.

after a few moments you finally places your hands on his chest, gaining some sort of leverage to look at him. you whine as you feel him shift inside of you as you move.

you place a hand to his flushed cheek, rubbing it softly. “i love you soso much, no matter what you look like, that will never change.” you kiss him passionately, wrapping your arms around him as best you could.

you both wince at the movement, both of you feeling senstive. “i love you too my beautiful girl.” he kisses the side of your face wrapping his arms around you.

after a moment or too he taps you butt (to watch it jiggle) to signal you to get up. you slowly make your way off him, his soft length slipping out of you with ease, his cum sure to follow.

once you both pee, get changed and change the sheets, you cuddle up in bed, laying on his naked chest, pressing kisses every few seconds.

“i love you, bin, not matter what you look like okay? you’re mine forever.” you mumble into his pec, placing a kiss over his heart as if to seal it.

“i wouldn’t want it any other way.” you whispers , placing a kiss to your temple at you both drift off in each other’s arms.

do not repost

(comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3)

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Ultimate Distraction

Word count: 1k

Pairing:Lando Norris x reader

Summary:At Silverstone, Lando Norris is completely captivated by his girlfriend in his favorite summer dress, unable to focus on anything but her

Requests are open

______________________________________________________________

The sun was shining brightly over the Silverstone Circuit, casting a warm glow across the paddock. It was a beautiful summer day—one of those rare ones in England that felt like something out of a dream. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the air was filled with the buzz of engines revving, mechanics shouting over the noise, and the unmistakable excitement of race day. Today felt special.

I had chosen to wear Lando’s favorite dress—a flowy, soft yellow sundress with tiny floral patterns that swayed with every step I took. It had thin straps and a fitted bodice that accentuated my figure in just the right way. Lando always said I looked like a “literal goddess” in it, and I couldn’t resist the idea of making him smile by wearing it today. I paired it with a simple pair of sandals and let my hair fall in loose waves over my shoulders. It felt like the perfect outfit for a summer day at the track.

As I made my way through the paddock, I noticed heads turning. A few crew members and even some drivers glanced my way, surprised to see a new face, but I was used to that by now. Lando had kept our relationship private for the most part, so whenever I showed up, it was always a bit of a spectacle. Today, though, it seemed like there were even more eyes on me.

I finally spotted Lando near the McLaren garage, standing with his back to me. He was listening to his race engineer, nodding along as they discussed strategy. As I approached, a few members of the team noticed me and subtly nudged him. When Lando turned around, his eyes landed on me, and his expression instantly shifted from focused to utterly captivated. His mouth parted slightly, and he blinked as if he wasn’t sure if I was real.

“Hey,” I said softly, walking up to him, my dress catching the slight breeze and swaying around my legs.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice a little breathless, eyes never leaving mine. I could see his brain working to catch up, his usual cool confidence momentarily slipping away. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, but his gaze flickered down to the dress, and I saw a flicker of something—desire, pride, and a hint of possessiveness.

“You look… wow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know that’s my favorite dress on you.”

I grinned, knowing exactly the effect it had on him. “I know,” I teased. “That’s why I wore it. I thought you could use some extra motivation today.”

Lando chuckled, but I could see the way his eyes stayed locked on me, as if he couldn’t look away. “Well, you definitely have my attention.”

One of the engineers cleared his throat behind Lando, bringing him back to the present. Lando snapped out of his daze, blinking rapidly and trying to refocus. “Right, um… what were we talking about?”

The engineer chuckled. “Race strategy, mate. But clearly, your mind’s elsewhere.”

Lando tried to shake it off, but I could tell he was struggling. As he tried to refocus on the task at hand, I could see him sneaking glances at me every few seconds, his gaze traveling from my face to the dress and back up again. His eyes darkened slightly, and I could tell he was fighting the urge to stay by my side instead of getting ready for the race.

I stayed near the garage, chatting with some of the crew members who had gotten to know me over time. But I could feel Lando’s eyes on me, watching me like a hawk. It didn’t take long for some of the other drivers to notice me, too. George Russell was the first to approach, offering a friendly smile.

“Hey, Y/N! You look amazing today. Summer suits you,” he said, his eyes flickering briefly to Lando as if testing the waters.

“Thanks, George,” I replied with a smile, aware of Lando’s gaze boring into us from a few feet away.

I could practically feel Lando’s mood shift from adoration to a bit of annoyance. He didn’t want anyone else seeing me like this—yet, at the same time, I knew he wanted to show me off, to make everyone see the girl he was so completely smitten with.

As if on cue, Carlos Sainz strolled over next. “Y/N! You look stunning, as always,” he said with a wink. “Are you sure you don’t want to come cheer for Ferrari today?”

I laughed, knowing he was only half-joking, but before I could answer, I felt a familiar arm slide around my waist. Lando had closed the gap between us, his body language screaming protectiveness.

“She’s quite happy here, thanks,” Lando cut in, his tone light but firm, giving Carlos a look that made his intentions clear.

Carlos raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just saying,” he chuckled, but I saw the amused look he shot at Lando.

“Can’t blame me for trying,” he added, walking away with a grin.

Lando’s grip tightened around my waist, and he leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. “They’re all just jealous,” he muttered, his breath warm against my skin. “I can’t decide if I want to keep you hidden away or show you off to everyone here.”

I turned to face him, resting a hand on his chest. “You know I’m only here for you, right?”

His expression softened, his eyes filled with a mix of adoration and frustration. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… hard to focus when you’re looking like this.”

I laughed softly. “Well, you better try. You’ve got a race to win.”

He groaned, his forehead dropping to mine. “You’re not making it easy, you know that?”

Just then, his race engineer called him over again, reminding him that it was almost time to get into the car. Lando sighed, pulling back reluctantly. “Alright, I better go. But promise you’ll stay close?”

“Always,” I said, giving him a reassuring kiss on the cheek.

[permanentlyfemale]

⚠️ Feminization, Misgendering, Forced detrans kink ahead! ⚠️

Today is a scary day for you. As a trans man, finding the right therapist is far more difficult than it is for most people, especially as you weren’t looking for just a new therapist today. You also need someone to write you a top surgery letter. Although you’ve only been on T for 2 months, barely enough to notice anything besides an increased libido and clit growth, your breasts are by far your biggest source of dysphoria. You often wear two binders when you’re going anywhere, and even then, a sizable bump is visible on your chest. You’re hoping they may become easier to bind with hormones, but you already know that you’ll need surgery regardless.

“Milo Brown?” A masculine voice calls your name from across the room. Glancing up, you see a very attractive man, much taller than you, looking to be in good shape under his professional attire, but not overly muscular. His dark shoulder-length wavy hair and stubble complement his gentle, masculine face and warm brown eyes.

Surprised by the man’s beauty, you stumble on your words as you rise from your seat. “I- uh- I’m here.”

“Great! Let’s get back to my office.” He smiles warmly and gestures for you to follow him out of the waiting room and down a hallway, passing mostly empty offices on the way. This doesn’t seem too odd, as there was construction on the lower floor. Maybe some patients didn’t like the noise and cancelled? Or maybe you’re trying to distract yourself from thinking of the exceedingly attractive man that may soon be your therapist. You’ve considered yourself gay since coming out, but starting hormones has certainly made that attraction all the more apparent.

As he opens his office door, you’re surprised by how casual it is. There’s a long couch next to an armchair, with a clipboard set neatly on top. His desk is to the side, seemingly ignored while clients were present in favor of a more personal layout. Thinking of something to say as you sat on the couch, you spit out “I like your office.”

“Thank you Milo, I spent a lot of time thinking of the anatomy of the room and how to make my clients most at ease. I find this works best.” He smiles at you, his eyes gentle and enticing. “I’m Dr. Sterling, I specialize in support for LGBT and FTM clients. Nice to meet you! Tell me a but about yourself and what brings you here.”

“My name is Milo Brown, I’m 19 years old, and I just started testosterone. I’ve been out as trans for a while but finally got access to hormones and I’m hoping to get top surgery as well, but I need a letter for it. I also just need support with my dysphoria and depression.” You cross your arms over your large chest self-consciously.

“Well, that’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Can you tell me more about your dysphoria regarding your chest?”

Shifting uncomfortably in your chair, you hesitantly proceed. “Every day is awful! They’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and I go to sleep trying not to feel or think about them. They’re so big and heavy that I feel them whenever I move and it makes me so dysphoric. It’s also impossible to make myself flat, so I never pass. As a gay man, it’s so hard to find a man who would want a guy with a body like mine!”

“Oh, Milo, I think that’s very negative thinking. Plenty of men would find you attractive! I thought you were quite beautiful when I saw you myself.”

You’re surprised by his words! That sounded very flirtatious, but maybe he was just trying to boost your ego. Either way, it made the empty space between your legs tingle when he said it. You also didn’t know he was queer, but it definitely makes you more comfortable with him. “Well… that does make me feel better. I still don’t feel comfortable with my chest though.”

“Why don’t we try something? This is an exercise I’ve done with plenty of my transmasuline patients before, and it has always improved their lives and helped with dysphoria. While we do it, I can assess you for top surgery as well! How does that sound?” He smiled at you expectingly.

“Uhhh… yeah, that sounds good. What are we doing?”

“I’m just going to have you answer some questions about your body and dysphoria. This may get uncomfortable, but it’s all part of this process. I’m sure you can trust me, right?”

“Of course!” You answer instinctively.

“Right. First, I want you to take off your shirt and binder.” He instructs casually.

“What!? I thought we were just answering questions. Is that necessary?” You’re again surprised, he wasn’t a surgeon and you had never shown anyone your chest before. You didn’t want to look at it yourself, much less this beautiful man you’re expecting to see regularly!

“I understand this is surprising and uncomfortable, but I want to understand your perspective on your body, as well as assess the size and density for surgery. I need to know this for the letter, and I understand this is very important to you. I’m sorry for the discomfort, Milo.” He looked at you apologetically, his brown eyes sparkling, staring in to your soul and shooting down between your legs.

“I… okay.” What he was saying did make sense, and you would do most anything for this surgery. Resolving to just get this over with, you take off your oversized hoodie and throw it on the couch next to you. Grabbing both binders at once, you exert a herculean force squeezing yourself out, panting as your huge breasts fly out. You blush with embarrassment as a loud clap can be heard from them swinging together.

Dr. Sterling calmly walks closer to you. “Do you know your cup size?”

“Uh… no, sorry.”

“That’s alright, we can measure now.” He smiles warmly and pulls out some measuring tape. Without hesitation, he walks up to you and wraps it around your chest! He first measures your underbust before moving to measure your bust. His hands rest on your breasts as he does so. “Alright… looks like you have J cups.” His hand brushes your nipple as he backs away.

“Mmph!” Involuntarily, you let out a short, feminine moan. Both the dysphoria of knowing your overwhelming cup size and your accidental vocalization leave you embarrassed and blushing harder than ever.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ve experienced any vocal changes from testosterone.” He observes.

“Umm… not yet, no.”

“It also seems like you have quite sensitive nipples?”

“I guess…”

“Well, have you ever considered embracing your breasts?”

“Huh?” You were confused. They made you sad and dysphoric, how could you ever embrace them? He did say whatever he was doing worked for all of his other transmasc patients, but this seemed absurd.

“Your breast are way too big to bind properly. I’ve seen you wearing two binders in here, and that is not healthy. As your therapist, I can’t encourage you to damage your body in such a way, and especially without two binders, you wouldn’t be able to hide them at all anyways. And why go through the trouble of binding if everyone can tell? It might do you some good to just accept your body as it is. It’s not like whether you bind now will affect surgery.”

Unfortunately, everything he was saying made perfect sense. Even when binding, it was very obvious you had breasts. Why go through all the trouble, especially if it was hurting your body? You were dysphoric either way, might as well be more comfortable physically. “I guess… I guess you’re right.”

“Yes… unfortunately it’s also not very possible hormones could reduce them to a bindable size either.”

This devastated you. Even later on testosterone, you would have obvious breasts? How could you expect anyone to take you seriously as a man? You had hoped to begin passing in public soon, and finally begin living comfortably, but you weren’t so sure now. Would it even be safe to live as a non-passing trans man? Why were you going through so much for hormones if there was no hope of passing before surgery anyways? Maybe you should just wait until then for hormones- no one will gender you right as you are now. “Maybe… maybe I should pause testosterone until surgery then.”

“Yes, I can see why. That might be the safest option for you.” He nodded solemnly. “We can practice some exercises to reduce dysphoria until then, if you’d like.” His frown shifted in to a comforting smile.

Still upset, you nodded.

He moved closer and, before you could react, placed one hand on each perky, round breast, grabbing you by the boobs.

Surprised, you squeaked.

“This is just to get you used to your breasts. It often helps most when someone else does it, so you’re more comfortable with other people seeing them.” He gently squeezed and pulled, running his fingers along your supple breasts, warm palms pressing your hard nipples.

“Mmmmmm-! Oooh!” You let out a series of feminine wails as the doctor palms at your breasts. They were so sensitive and they felt so heavy- so wrong on your body- and yet they sent waves of pleasure throughout your curvy figure.

“Are you still going to go by Milo? I mean, you’re stopping T until surgery because you won’t be able to pass. It would be weird to only keep the name and pronouns, especially for strangers.” His hands shifted to thumb at your nipples.

Your thoughts were flooded with waves of pleasure shooting from your tits. The importance of this decision didn’t fully register, but what he was saying made sense to you. “You’re right.”

“Good girl.”

“Huhh…”

“People are going to refer to you by what you look like. You know you don’t pass. This is just exposure training, okay?”

“Okay…” You mindlessly agree as he moves his head close to your breast.

“See? You are a good girl.” He starts to suck on your nipple, causing you to throw your head back and wail in pleasure. You don’t know when his own clothes came off, but he’s getting on top of you and pulling your pants off, leaving you in just your boxers with his much larger biologically male body pinning you down, suddenly kissing your lips.

“What… what are you doing now, d-doctor…” he cuts you off as you pant your words out.

“The easiest way to adapt to and accept being seen as a woman is to have sex with a straight man, one who can use you as only male can use female. You need this, Amelia. It’s okay.”

Hearing your deadname makes you cringe with dysphoria. You’ve always felt an aversion towards it, despising the femininity it signaled. You struggle to reconcile your attraction to the doctor and trust in his methods to your current panic. This all felt good and sounded logical but it’s happening too fast to react, and these are all such big decisions, and suddenly he’s pulling your boxers off.

“Your pussy is so perfect. You make such a sexy woman.” He rubs the length of his cock along your clit and hole. The distinction between your pathetic nub and his masculine length is obvious. He gropes your massive jiggling breasts, squeezing them together and lowering his head to kiss and suck your nipples as his dick prods your entrance.

“Doctor Sterling…” You moan his name as his assault on your tits grows heavier. He sloppily makes out with your huge boobs, enjoying every second he can get drowning in your massive breasts.

He momentarily pulls his mouth from your tits. “Yes… fuck, Amelia!” He rams his hard cock all the way inside you, hitting your cervix as he moans your deadname, resuming his assault on your massive wobbling boobs all the while.

You scream and wail, unsure if it’s in pleasure or some mix of dysphoria and grief for your lost ambitions. Whatever male identity you insisted on was currently obstructed by your massive tits and the straight man enjoying them as he pounded in to your soft, tight vagina. Anyone who saw you two would know immediately that this was heterosexual sex- they would never stop to consider you could be anything but a curvy woman being held down and fucked by a handsome man. Suddenly, the doctor’s thrusts sped up. You forgot condoms, and you’re barely on T!

Right as you open your mouth, he interrupts. “I’m gonna cum, Amelia! I’m cumming inside you!” He holds himself against your cervix, comforting you as you begin to scream. “Shhh, good girl, it’s okay.”

You feel his hot cum flood in to your unprotected pussy, tears falling from your eyes. Feeling the sticky cum start to leak out, you manage to speak. “Do… do you have a towel?”

“Uhhh… here!” He grabs your binders and rips them both, turning them in to makeshift towels as he pulls out, along with a flood of cum.

You know you said you wouldn’t bind anymore, but having the option taken away made everything all the more real. You know it was for the best tho. He specializes in helping trans men, and he said this always works. You just have to trust him! As time runs out, you don’t even realize you forgot to finish your top surgery letter.

Still… you couldn’t wait to book your next session.

[greengoblinswifey]

Shattered— Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you’re an actress on the brink of fame and you fall for your co-star Nicholas Chavez. discovering his secret coupled with your unexpected pregnancy changes your entire dynamic.

warnings— cheating, mentions of infertility, mature language, grief and loss, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of unprotected sex, abortion, manipulation.

a/n— kinda long but i’m a slut for angst, also this is all just my imagination and fantasy, it’s not based on nicholas irl <3

Alternative Ending

From the very first time you got an acting role, your manager told you, never engage in relations with your co stars. Looking down at the two positive pregnancy tests on the counter, you wished you had taken heed to her wise words.

You and Nicholas had been thrown into the spotlight together, both relatively new to the fame game. As co-stars, you’d developed a chemistry that felt electric, especially during your lovey-dovey scenes on camera.

As the filming progressed, those on-screen moments started to seep into your off-screen life. You’d find yourselves stealing kisses between takes, getting lost in long conversations about everything from your childhood dreams to your favorite late-night snacks. It was easy to forget that this was just work. You felt like you knew each other inside out.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you were in your trailer, and the laughter just flowed. “I really like this,” Nicholas said, leaning closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “It feels special, you know?”

You nodded, heart racing. “Yeah, it does. I’m just scared of what happens after this season wraps. Will we still have this?”

Nick brushed a thumb across your cheek, his gaze intense. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise I’ll always be here.”

You couldn’t help it; you leaned in and kissed him, the connection between you two crackling like electricity. Everything felt perfect in that moment, but in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

What were you missing? Why did he keep his life back home so close to his chest?

As your days turned into nights filled with mind blowing sex, you tried to enjoy every second, but the nagging doubt wouldn’t disappear. You were falling for him, and you wondered if he felt the same way, or if this was just a fun distraction for him.

As filming continued, he made sure to keep the relationship casual, reassuring you that it was all good between you two. “You know I care about you, right?” he’d say between takes, pulling you close, his lips pressing against your forehead, “But a public relationship? It might restrict me from getting certain roles.” You nodded, wanting to be supportive. After all, you understood the pressure of the industry. But deep down, a nagging thought lingered, was there more to it than that?

Still, you brushed off your doubts. You were wrapped up in the excitement of your new life, enjoying every moment of intimacy with Nicholas, nights spent tangled in sheets, whispering sweet nothings, and experiencing a side of Hollywood that felt like a dream. There were moments when he’d use condoms, and others when he’d pull out, but you never worried about getting pregnant. You knew you were infertile, and that fact brought you a strange sense of comfort.

During one of your casual conversations, you mentioned your part-time passion for photography. Nick lit up at the idea, and you quickly arranged for him to meet a photographer friend of yours who worked for magazines. “I’ll be sure to use them,” he said, his tone light. You didn’t think much of it, just a favor for a friend.

Then came the twist, Nick’s character was off the show for a few episodes. He returned to his hometown, and suddenly, the set felt empty without him. You missed him deeply, especially because you’d been feeling under the weather lately. The sickness hung over you, but you knew he needed a break so you didn’t bother him in staying.

As the days went by, his texts became infrequent. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong. Maybe he was just busy? Maybe he was having fun back home? And then, you noticed your period was late. You weren’t scared per se, you remembered the infertility diagnosis, but something felt off.

In a moment of playful distraction, you called your sister. “I’m late,” you joked, half-laughing. “Maybe I should take a pregnancy test?” She encouraged you, laughter spilling over the phone, making it feel lighthearted.

You picked up two tests from the store, ensuring they weren’t expired. When you took the tests, you expected nothing. But to your shock, both tests came back positive.

The laughter faded, replaced by disbelief. You dropped the phone, feeling a wave of panic crash over you. Pregnant? How could this happen? You were still so new in your career, and Nicholas. How would you even tell him? Would he be happy? He had dreams to chase, and now there was a little life to consider.

Your mind raced with possibilities and worries. You knew you needed to talk to Nicholas but the fear of how he’d react was large. You’d built something beautiful, but this was a twist neither of you had planned.

The days dragged on as you tried to process everything. You took a few days to cool off, completely unsure how to proceed. The set was chaotic, your mind was racing while you were trying to act normal. Multiple takes of one scene felt like torture, especially when you had to run off to throw up in between. The directors were patient, but you could sense their frustration growing. You felt guilty, this pregnancy wasn’t their fault, and yet you were struggling to keep it together.

Just two days before Nicholas was set to return, the chaos hit a new level. You received a message from the photographer you had linked Nicholas with. “Check out how cute your co-star looks with his girlfriend!” it read, accompanied by a series of images. You froze as you opened the photos. There he was, Nicholas, beaming in a pregnancy announcement photoshoot with a woman. A woman who was his girlfriend.

Shock coursed through you as confusion and anger collided. Your heart sank, it felt like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t taken any photos with Nicholas, and now you realized why he had been so secretive about his life outside of filming. He was expecting a baby with her. You wanted to scream, shout, break things, or blow up his phone. But instead, you just sat there, staring blankly at the screen, tears streaming down your face.

You ran to the trailer bathroom, clutching your stomach as nausea washed over you. You felt it to your core, the reality of your situation was devastating. He had been playing you both, living a lie, and now here you were, grappling with the knowledge that your pregnancy was based on deception.

Days passed like a blur. You did your best to get through filming, but every time you returned to your trailer, the reality of the life growing inside you became unbearable. You would throw up and clutch your stomach, feeling the weight of what was supposed to be a beautiful moment turned sour by lies.

Finally, the day arrived when Nicholas returned to set. He burst into your trailer, the energy in the room instantly shifting. “I missed you!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. But you just sat there, staring blankly at him, the pregnancy tests in hand, proof of the life you were now burdened with.

He pulled back, looking at you with concern. “What’s wrong?”

The words caught in your throat. You were ready to confront him, ready to expose the web of lies. But all you could manage was a shaky breath, your heart racing in your chest as you prepared for the storm ahead.

With shaky hands, you thrust the pregnancy tests into Nicholas’s face, your heart pounding. “Here.”

He looked at the tests, confusion swirling in his eyes. “W-what? What the fuck is this. Is this… are you pregnant?” The realization hit him hard, and you could see the panic creeping in.

“Yeah, I am!” you shot back, your voice rising.

“Fucking hell!” he shouted, “my- my fucking career is just taking off, I’m filming a show, this- this wasn’t supposed to get this far.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” You couldn’t believe the things he was saying. “My career is just taking off, I’m filming a show too Nicholas.”

His expression shifted, the initial panic giving way to something more defensive. “I can’t handle this right now! My career is just starting, and I didn’t want to be tied down like this.”

Anger bubbled up inside you, boiling over like a volcano. You could sense the manipulation in his tone, the way he was shifting the blame onto you. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?” you yelled, pushing him away. “You’re just thinking about yourself!”

He reached for you, attempting to pull you back into his embrace, whispering, “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out.” But you shoved him off, your emotions raw and unfiltered.

“Figure this out?” you screamed, your voice echoing in the small trailer. “How can you say that when you’re two-timing? Look at these!” You threw your phone at him, the pregnancy announcement photos landing in his lap. His face twisted with fury.

“Are you serious right now?” he shouted, his anger igniting. “I made a mistake with one of them! It wasn’t supposed to go this far! We’re filming a show together; I can’t just drop everything!”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You’re not the Nicholas I thought I knew. How can you act like this? You’re a fucking two-faced liar, sleeping with two girls and getting both of us pregnant!”

He raked a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of frustration and despair. “I can’t do this. Not now. You need to- you need to get an abortion.”

The words hung heavy in the air, crashing down around you. You looked at him, heart sinking, disbelief coursing through you. “Are you serious? You want me to end this?”

Nicholas looked away, the weight of his own choices crashing down on him. But it was too late, the damage had been done.

Nicholas’s voice was cold and detached. “Yes, I want you to get an abortion. I’ll give you money for it. You need to have it gone by tonight.”

You felt your heart shatter all over again. “How can you refer to our baby as ‘it’?” The bitterness in your voice was undeniable.

He shrugged, pacing the small trailer. “I don’t know what an abortion can do to your body, but you’ll need time to rest. What are you going to tell production?”

You shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t know either! But how can you be so heartless?”

“Listen I can’t deal with this, I have a girlfriend and a baby on the way,” he muttered, lowly.

You couldn't take it anymore. “No! I am your girlfriend! WE have a baby on the way, or at least I thought I was your girlfriend!”

Nicholas stopped pacing, his expression a mixture of guilt and confusion. He ran a hand over his face, clearly overwhelmed.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” he muttered, unsure of what to say next.

Then, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him, he turned and left the trailer without another word, leaving you alone in the silence.

You hugged yourself tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks. The reality of your situation crashed down on you. You felt utterly lost, your heart aching for the life you once envisioned, now shattered.

That night, you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind spiraling as you weighed your options. If you kept the baby, everything would change. Your career, just beginning to gain traction, would be stalled indefinitely. You’d be a single mother, left alone to care for a child Nicholas had already written off. And as a man, he’d be fine. Even with two babies on the way, he wouldn’t be the one carrying or caring for them.

On the other hand, if you didn’t keep it, you weren’t even sure if you’d get another chance. The thought tore at you, but you knew what the world would say. They’d call you a homewrecker, maybe even try to destroy your reputation, and all without knowing the truth. It would be you, bearing the weight of his lies.

Finally, with a heavy heart, you booked the appointment for the next morning. You went alone, tears streaming down your face as you went through it, feeling each moment echo in the hollow of your chest. By the time filming started later that day, you were late, your spirit shattered.

Nicholas spotted you as soon as you walked onto set. He approached, his voice low, but his eyes sharp. “Is it done?”

You nodded, feeling a hollow ache that reached all the way down to your bones. You could barely look at him, but when you did, all you felt was disgust. He added, as if it was some minor detail, “Don’t even think of reaching out to my girlfriend.” You couldn’t believe how cold he’d become, as if you were nothing more than a piece of his past.

Then the call for your scene echoed across the set, and you took your place opposite him. It was a romantic moment, a kiss, meant to be tender and full of passion. But when his lips touched yours, it felt like everything was wrong. The kiss was forced, awkward, each movement filled with a desperation neither of you could hide.

When the director called, “Cut,” you pulled away and fled, barely making it to your trailer before the tears began to flow. Just hours ago, you were carrying his child. Now, all that remained was an empty ache and a broken heart. In some twisted way, you felt almost relieved that you no longer had a part of him inside you. And yet, the loss left you feeling like a shell of who you once were.

A few days after the procedure, you felt like you had nothing left of him. Nothing to show for the life you’d once carried, the part of him that had been yours alone. He had been such a huge part of your life just days before, and in mere hours, that illusion had shattered completely.

The filming continued, and soon the news of his pregnancy announcement with his girlfriend went public. You watched as the set was buzzing with congratulatory wishes for him. Everyone beamed at Nicholas, showering him with smiles and words of celebration. Meanwhile, you did your best to hold yourself together, concealing the sadness that now rested in the hollow of your heart.

When the season finally wrapped, the months that followed became a time of rebuilding. You put everything into healing, into rediscovering yourself. By the premiere night, you were the picture of poise and confidence, draped in a red dress that turned heads. When you stepped onto the red carpet, even Nicholas did a double take, momentarily caught off guard by your transformation.

After the red carpet, he approached, offering a hollow smile. “So, how are you feeling? I just need to know, it’s really done, right?” He hesitated, glancing around, and added, “I heard sometimes fetuses survive abortion…”

The audacity of his words made you sick. Anger sparked in you, and you hissed, barely holding back your rage. “Yes, Nicholas. Our baby is dead. Thanks to you.” You were barely a few weeks along so you wouldn’t have considered it a baby but you wanted to say anything to knock him down.

As the night continued, you managed to keep your composure, even when his pregnant girlfriend approached you with a sweet smile, chatting as if you hadn’t unknowingly been fucking her boyfriend raw. All the while, Nicholas hovered nearby, his eyes sharp, ensuring you didn’t let anything slip. You walked away feeling relief. He’d no longer have a hold on you.

The following months brought a fresh start. You threw yourself into work, your career skyrocketing as you landed a massive film role. Meanwhile, Nicholas seemed to fade from the spotlight, mostly at home with his girlfriend, waiting for their baby. Until, finally, karma came for him, an article revealed that the child he thought was his was actually someone else’s, belonging to a rockstar his girlfriend had left him for.

You couldn’t help the satisfaction that spread through you. He’d reaped exactly what he’d sown, and you hadn’t lifted a finger.

The Oscar nomination was the pinnacle of your success, and the night of the awards ceremony arrived. To your surprise, Nicholas showed up, desperate to find you. He cornered you at last, offering a string of apologies and congratulations, asking for another chance now that he was alone. But you saw through him, his desire was only to latch onto your newfound fame. You looked him in the eyes, remembering everything he’d put you through. He had destroyed you, once. But you had risen again, and he was nothing to you now.

Without a word, you turned and walked away, leaving him to watch as you went forward, leaving him in the past for good.

[sapphiremusings]

when i’m down on my knees, | aemond targaryen

summary: with their wedding only a few days away, aemond eases his betrotheds fear of him.

cw: explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, baratheon!reader, no use of y/n

this is the first in a 2 part series! let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part :)

The rumors concerning Lady Baratheon’s betrothed are not lost on her. No, she is well educated on Prince Aemond ‘One-Eye’ Targaryen’s unsavory reputation, just as much as every other lord and lady in Westeros.

Before she was shipped off to King’s Landing in preparation for her royal wedding, her sisters had made it their duty to tease her. They made sure that she was well aware of her prince’s cruel attitude, and the monstrous look of him, with a sharp scar down the left side of his face. By the time she had arrived to the Red Keep, she was teeming with fear as her sisters’ words echoed through her mind.

Prince Aemond is known to be a cruel yet dutiful man. He is said to be a skilled swordsman, besting his mother’s sworn knight, Ser Criston Cole, on many occasions. He rides the largest— and oldest— dragon, the same one that the conquerors sister-wife, Visenya, had rode into battle many times. He had claimed the she-dragon at a young age, losing his eye in the process to his young nephew. His missing left eye is another topic often whispered about in court. Some say that he had cut out another man’s eyeball, and placed it into his empty socket. Others say he has a large jewel in its place, something so peculiar and off-putting that he is forced to cover it up with a leather eyepatch.

All of this is to say that any sane lady would be terrified of their betrothal to Aemond Targaryen. Of course, Lady Baratheon is well aware that most Westerosi marriages are born out of duty, not love. If anything, she should feel blessed by the gods that she is betrothed to a young prince, and not some measly lord old enough to be her grandsire. Yet, she cannot help her feelings of terror at the thought of her upcoming wedding, and even more so, her soon-to-be husband.

From a young age, her septa had installed in her what was to be expected of her when she became of age. Being a dutiful wife was the only thing she was to worry about, and then being a dutiful mother to her husband’s heirs. She would often have nightmares about an old lord running his eager hands down her gaudy wedding gown, pushing her onto the marital bed where she would be forced to lay under his big gut as he ruts into her, witnesses to the dreaded bedding ceremony snickering behind the sheer curtains. Her ladies-in-waiting would comfort her after these night terrors, smoothing down her hair and promising that no harm would come to her. Even with their sweet words, she knew the truth; she would be forced to marry a stranger, and endure all the hardships that came with having no freedom of her own.

Now, with her wedding only a few days away, she can barely sit still. Her mind incessantly spins around various scenarios that can take place on that special day, and she worries over her impending future. She has taken to walking along the Keep’s gardens, and throughout the various twisting halls; anything to keep her moving. Her father always scolded her for this habit, as to him it was the equivalent of running away from your problems. Still, she can’t help it as the big day draws forward, her anxiety swollen inside her.

It isn’t that she doesn’t want to become a wife. It is merely her irrational fear of her husband-to-be. Even now, as he walks behind her, quiet in his sure steps, his gaze burns through all her layers, settling deep within her core. She feels as if she is on fire, and the longer he stares, calculating and as if she is a foreign creature, the more this inferno swells. Every move she makes is with caution, in fear that he will strike her down and show off that unforgiving nature that he is known for. So far, he hasn’t, but she believes this is merely a false front. Surely, he is waiting for when they are finally married to show his true colors, knowing that she will be his and unable to do anything about it.

She begs to the Seven to release her from this torment, her spine rigid as they continue their walk through the Keep’s halls. She had wanted to be alone, as she often has been since arriving in Kings Landing, artfully dodging any attempt at courting that Prince Aemond tried to enact. Truthfully, it has been his queen-mother, Alicent, who has pushed her son towards his betrothed, and to Lady Baratheon, he hasn’t seemed that worried over the fact that she has been avoiding him. No, he merely stares, violet eye darting over her face and figure as if she is a puzzle he is trying to solve.

Really, she doesn’t understand why he is still walking behind her, steps steady and calculated. They haven’t spoken a single word to each other since their initial greeting that morning, when he had been waiting outside her chamber doors, ready to escort her on her walk. Even then, it had merely been a “good morn” recited, both tense in their separate ways. Aemond couldn’t look more annoyed even if he tried, seemingly uninterested in anything she could potentially offer him. Not that she was offering anything.

Growing bored of wandering aimlessly around the Keep, Lady Baratheon pauses with a sigh. Tersely, she turns to the side, not daring to look at her betrothed, who has halted behind her. “I’d like to retire to my cha-“

“I want to show you something, my lady.”

Her heart nearly stops beating at his words, sudden and surprising as he takes a step towards her. She wishes to flee, but her feet stay planted on the floor, and she watches from the corner of her eyes as he brings a hand up to grab ahold of her elbow. Though the fabric of her dress sleeves acts as a barrier between flesh, she still feels as if she was scalded. She flinches, almost imperceptibly, but Aemond seems to notice as he lets out a hum.

She knows she mustn’t deny him. No, her septa had taught her well. So, she meekly nods her head, cheeks flushed in apprehension.

They walk back through the halls, towards a place she has never dared to step foot near, a dark alcove lit only by torches and candles. She lets out a gasp at the sight before her; the giant skull of the largest dragon known to Westeros. If she wanted to, she could walk straight into its jaws and past the many rows of sharp teeth. Her breath catches in her throat.

Aemond’s voice comes out in a whisper, right next to her ear. “This is the skull of Aegon the Conqueror’s dragon, the largest who’s ever lived. His name was-“

“Balerion. The Black Dread,” she interrupts him, immediately regretting so afterwards.

Instead of scolding her like she expected him to do, he merely breathes out a small laugh. Still, she feels the need to apologize, even as she stutters over her words.

“I apologize, my prince. At Storm’s End, we had a few tomes about the Conquest, and they interested me greatly.”

He hums. “Do not apologize. I like to know what you are thinking.”

She doesn’t know how to reply to this, heart pounding against her chest as she feels him step closer behind her, pressing into her back. He towers over her frame, hard and lean against her. His head bends, lips coming close to her ear.

“Are you afraid of me, my dear betrothed?”

“N-no,” she stutters out, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. Her eyes focus on the dragon skull before them, willing her heart to calm down. “No, my prince.”

He seems amused by her answer. “Liar.”

Another gasp escapes her mouth as his lips flutter over the shell of her ear, trailing down to the crook of her neck. He smells of smoke and steel, leather and something else she can’t put her finger on— but it’s intoxicating as it enters her nose, and she feels like nuzzling against him. Her fear won’t let her, nor will it let her move from his grasp, even as she shakes like a leaf under his hands, now resting atop her forearms.

“You avoid me. You can’t even look me in my eye,” he muses, lips still pressed against her skin. “You are shaking… am I so fearsome, Lady Baratheon?”

She whimpers, shaking her head, eyes growing wide as his grip tightens. “I’m sorry…”

His hand suddenly grabs ahold of her jaw, making her flinch, in which he lets out a disappointed tsk. Slowly, he turns her face towards his, fingers gentle against her rosy cheeks. She trembles as she meets his dark gaze, his lilac iris now a small ring, overtaken by his widened pupil. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his stare travels across her face, stopping on her lips.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, blinking. “No… quite the opposite. Will you let me show you?”

Deep within her stomach, something sharp twists, turning her blood hot as it pools within her veins. She is afraid, but another feeling unknown to her is slowly creeping up her spine, turning her brain into mush as she continues staring up at her betrothed. Her fingers reach up to grasp on his arm that’s wrapped around her, tightening around the leather of his sleeve. His gaze doesn’t move away, nor does he. Instead, he seems to draw closer, pressed against her back as his lips near hers. She can’t help but flutter her eyes closed, and before she can fully think about what she is agreeing to, she dips her chin down into a small nod.

Aemond’s lips immediately find hers, warm and plush, eager in his exploration. She has never been kissed before, and the feeling is foreign, but her pulse begins to thrum within her, and she opens her mouth to take more of it. He seems pleased by her reciprocation, groaning softly as he brushes his tongue against her teeth, his hand that still cups her jaw growing harsher. Their tongues slip against each other, a jolt of lightning hitting her every time they touch, her skin pebbled with goosebumps.

Growing restless, she spins around in his arms, hungry for something she doesn’t yet have a word for. Her arms wrap around his neck, and she has to push herself up onto her toes as she meets his lips once more, a clashing of teeth and spit. Between her legs, it grows hot, pulse thumping at her very core. She wants to climb on top of him and devour him, her fear of her mysterious prince melting away with every flick of his tongue. Is it supposed to feel like this?, she thinks, whimpering as she pulls him down closer by his neck.

When he pulls away, panting, she whines, her own chest heaving as she tries to breathe, but the throbbing between her thighs is so strong, she merely steps into his arms once more. He chuckles at this, looking down at his eager betrothed, flushed and nearly ravaged.

“I haven’t even shown you yet, and you’re already begging for more,” he muses, clicking his tongue mockingly. “What happened to my fearful little betrothed, hm?”

This sobers her up, her already flushed face turning a deeper shade of scarlet, and she staggers back on her feet. Aemond doesn’t let her go far, though, immediately grabbing ahold of her waist and pulling her back in. His hand brushes her hair back from her face, forcing her to look up at him once more, fingers firm in their hold. He smirks at the dazed look in her doe eyes, glassy as his words work through her mind on a loop. Though he should feel bad, he can’t help but relish her embarrassment. Hadn’t she been embarrassing him since her arrival, every time she would dart away from him and cower in fear just from his gaze?

“Please,” she whispers, swallowing a lump within her throat. His eyes seem to sparkle at her pleading.

He softly laughs. “Do you want me to touch you?” When she nods, eyebrows furrowed, “Use your words.”

Shame pools within her chest, squeezing around her heart as she continues to look up at him. Something inside her is begging to be released, pounding against her skull until every bone in her body rattles under its force. She doesn’t know what it is, or how to stop it, but her body draws itself closer to Aemond like he is the cure. Even now, as she gazes at his handsome face, all harsh lines and pouted lips, silver hair long and pulled back behind his head, eye a deep shade of violet, this thing within her only grows stronger in its fight to leave its prison. He is her betrothed, and a Prince of the realm, so who is she to deny him?

“Yes,” the word tastes like the sweetest poison on her tongue, and when he still makes no move to touch her, she continues. “Please, Aemond… touch me.”

She nearly cries when he smiles, leaning down to catch her lips, but her elation plummets when he doesn’t meet her embrace. Instead, his lips attach themselves to her jaw, tender as he licks and nips at the skin, traveling down her neck. Though she wants nothing more than his lips on hers, she still keens at the strange feeling, fingers tangling themselves into his long hair. His hands squeeze her hips, running up and down her sides, brushing against the bottom of her breasts. She arches into his touch, soft pants leaving her lips as he groans against her flesh.

Her feet start to step backwards as he pushes her, until she hits the stone wall behind her. His lips move to her heaving bosom, where the tops of her breasts sit within her dress, while his hand moves under her skirts, trailing along the bare skin of her thighs. They tremble beneath his touch, shutting close and trapping him there. He merely brings his leg between them, prying them back open so his hand can continue its journey to her weeping core. She shakes beneath him, sweat gathering at her brow, eyes pleading.

Aemond shushes her, bringing his lips back to hers, sighing as she pulls him closer and slips her tongue between them. When his hand slips under her undergarments, fingers nestling among her damp curls, she almost sobs, hips bucking up in shock. His other hand grabs onto her waist, stilling her movement as his fingers glide through her wetness, gathering the pool of arousal that sits along her hole. Her chest heaves, head dizzy with the new feeling, and she feels as if a bolt of lightning, white hot and blinding, has struck her. Hands grasp onto his shoulders for purchase, nails digging into the dark leather of his tunic, frantic as she looks for something to steady her racing heart.

“Seven hells, you’re soaked,” he gasps, fingers pressing against the apex of her, rubbing tight circles. “And here I thought you were afraid of me…”

She can barely comprehend his words, feeling as if her head is stuck in a cloud of smoke, heady and all-consuming. Her hands run down his shoulders and arms, now gripping onto his slim waist, pressing his body closer to her. His pale neck hovers over her face, and she can’t help but gravitate towards the unmarred skin, pressing her quivering lips to the base. Her tongue darts out to taste him, whimpering as she tries once more to move her hips. Aemond grunts, moving his fingers down to circle her leaking hole, the tip of his middle finger pressing in slowly.

As he presses the digit fully inside her, she presses her teeth into the nape of his neck, muffling her cry as he finally allows her to move her hips. He moans softly, grunting out her name at the feel of her bite, and she can feel something hard against her lower stomach, burning as it presses itself more to her. Tears spring to the corners of her starry eyes, tongue coming out once more to lick at the stinging bite mark she left, before resting her lips against him, panting. Her hips jolt upwards continuously, his name leaving her mouth like a prayer.

“Will you let me taste you?,” he nearly whines, rough voice cracking. His nose nudges against her temple. “Hm… ivestragī aōha dārilaros sylutegon ao, dōna riña.” (Let your prince taste you, sweet girl).

She gasps out, head nodding, though she’s not sure what she is agreeing to. Even so, she still wretches out, “y-yes.”

Aemond groans once more, pressing his lips to her forehead, before removing his fingers from her core. He’s quick to bend down on his knees, hands lifting up her skirts, dipping his head under the heavy fabric. She furrows her brows in confusion, but her question dies on her tongue as she feels his hot mouth press against her cunt, warm and wet. A strangled moan leaves her, and she throws her head back to stare up at the darkness above, lips parted as she gasps and whines. His tongue feels hot as it slips through her folds and circles her entrance, slurping up her arousal which practically pools out of her.

She can barely comprehend what is happening, her knees wobbly and her brain turned to mush, and all she can remember is his name. It leaves her lips like an incantation, continuously and fervently. Her hands try their best to gather her skirts, lifting them up and away from Aemond’s face, wishing to see him between her thighs. First, she spots a sliver of silver hair, and then, when she pulls the fabric back further, the rest of his head comes into view. His eye is closed, his focus solely on her cunt and how his tongue dips in and out of her. Fingers come up to rub at her once more, a deep grumble leaving him and vibrating through her core.

Something foreign begins to bubble up inside her, burning in its trail and cutting her open like a sharp sword. Her breath catches in her throat, chest heaving and heart stuttering against her ribcage, hips bucking up to chase the rising wave within her. Aemond flattens his tongue against her, another rumble leaving him, making her cry out. He opens his eye, staring up at her disheveled figure, his gaze molten and hungry. This look, and the feeling of him crooking a finger inside her once more, breaks her, and she moans and shudders, vision turning blurry as she’s pulled down under her cascading pleasure.

“Sȳz riña…” he groans, lapping up her essence as it flows out and onto his tongue. “Good fucking girl.”

Once she comes back down, she can barely keep standing, legs weakened and eyes heavy with sleepiness. Aemond stands, a satisfied hum leaving him as he pulls her against him, nose nuzzling in her hair. Instead of fear, she feels comfort as she rests in his arms, head resting on his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat. When he begins to trail kisses down her face, before capturing her lips with his own, she feels like swooning. Is this what she had been missing all along? Her betrothed… not someone to fear, but someone she could grow to love?

Aemond pulls away, fingers coming up to rest against her lips. “Taste yourself, dārilaros.” (Princess).

Timidly, she wraps her lips around his two digits, tongue cautious as it swirls around them. His gaze is dark as he watches her, and when he removes his fingers, he replaces them with his mouth, hot as it claims her own. On her hip, she can still feel that same stiffness against her, but she doesn’t question it as he finally steps away from her, a small smirk on his handsome face.

“In just a few days, we will be wed, my lady. When I take you to my bed, I will spend all night showing you why you shouldn’t fear me.”

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ you know i got a soft spot for you !!

ᝰ.ᐟ peak romance is when you realize that he's got a soft spot for you. alternatively: a headcanon post about the specific things he only does for you or the specific things you do to him that only you can get away with. ( fem!reader & sfw )

featuring osamu miya, tobio kageyama, kiyoomi sakusa author's notes damn, y'all just let hq win every poll, don't you?? haha jk, im happy to write whatever u guys wanna see. keshi's song has been stuck in my head all day (is this my socal abg transformation?? [guys im 100% viet, im allowed to make that joke]) i definitely still want to make a bllk version + if you guys like this, i'm always open to more characters <3

౨ৎ OSAMU MIYA — gives you the first and last bite of his food why it's special: osamu takes being a foodie to the next level. the man can eat, and he loves to do so. ever since elementary, his classmates and friends learned better than to ask osamu to share any of his snacks. he's not rude about it, per se, but you can tell that he packed his food with the intention of him and only him consuming it. him and atsumu even get into verbal altercations over who ate the last snack in the pantry. osamu just loves food — so it's pretty obvious that he must really love you a lot to always offer you the first bite of a meal at the restaurant he's spent weeks waiting to open.

"and anyway, that's when— hey, what the hell!" bits of rice fly out of atsumu's mouth whenever he watches osamu give you the first serving of grilled meat. you and osamu invited atsumu out to eat, to celebrate him joining the msby black jackals, and because everyone was craving bbq, you all agreed on the same restaurant (for once). osamu is naturally in charge of grilling the meats. what throws his twin off guard, though, is the fact that osamu is serving you first. "what's the matter? and finish chewing before you speak, damn." osamu huffs, before beginning to assemble portions of the side dishes on your plate as well. atsumu looks at his own empty plate before looking at osamu's empty plate. "geez, [name], how'd you do it?" you look up from your food to answer atsumu. "do what?" "this selfish, gluttonous bastard never lets anyone else eat first!" atsumu tells you, and you just laugh as osamu starts swearing at his brother. "well," you tell atsumu brightly, once his argument with osamu is settling down. "osamu's always lets me eat first. he insists, really." osamu has to tell atsumu to shut the hell up and stop whining before he doesn't get any food at all.

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA — takes pictures of you why it's special: tobio kageyama's camera roll before you consists of screenshots (some are accidental, such as the ones of his lock screen, or it's usually different athletic gear he wants to check out), photos of maps (because he is directionally challenged everywhere except for the court), and sometimes of virtual tickets (for when he actually does attend an event, usually for sports). tobio kageyama's camera roll after you consists of the same stuff, pretty much... except for the fact that there are now hundreds of photos he takes of you. he's not one to take pictures; he's a bit awkward around a camera, really, but he realizes soon after getting with you that he doesn't mind being in front of a camera as long as you're posing with him. he takes so many candids of you, like when you're washing the dishes or drifting off to sleep on the couch after bingewatching a tv show. if pictures are worth a thousand words, he's said "i love you" over a million times.

"oh my gosh, delete that!" you shriek, trying to make a mad grab for your boyfriend's phone. his reflexes are quicker, though, and he holds it out of your reach. "why would i delete it?" he asks innocently. "you look cute." the photo in question is the one he just took. the two of you ordered ramen for takeout, and yours was made spicier than usual. your lips feel swollen, and they're kind of stained red from the spices used, and the image captures that, but also highlights the tears welling up in the corner of your eyes as you're in the middle of a massive bite of noodles. "i look like i'm the thumbnail for a 'mukbangers who took it too far and died' video!" you wail. "delete it, tobio!" "but you look cute." he stands his ground, pouting a bit. "that's not fair. do not make that face." you groan, turning to look away from your boyfriend. honestly, with a face like that, it's no wonder why you couldn't force him to delete any pics of you. he's just too damn good at whittling away your resolve. "i think i'm gonna make it my lockscreen." he muses.

౨ৎ KIYOOMI SAKUSA — lets you make a mess of his things why it's special: kiyoomi is very particular about his personal belongings. he doesn't let his teammates borrow any of his training equipment. he refuses to wash his jersey with the rest of the team's, and instead, gets it professionally cleaned elsewhere. in the beginning of your relationship, kiyoomi always offered to wash the dishes, purely because he would only trust that it was truly cleaned if he could confirm that they were well scrubbed. the closer you two get, though, the more the boundaries blur. soon, his stuff gets mixed in with yours. you're doing the laundry together. he gives you his pillow when yours gets too warm. there's intimacy in that, even more so when you consider how prickly kiyoomi gets with these things.

"kiyoomi! you're home early!" fuck fuck fuck, is what's going on in your internal dialogue. you're baking a cake for dessert, only the mixer had a mind of its own, and you ended up covered in sugar, spice, and everything nice. which isn't that big of a deal. you already wiped down the counters, mopped the floors, and got started on the dishes. the only issue is that when you're at home, you have a habit of stealing kiyoomi's clothes. right now, you've still got on his sweatshirt. his nice, pristine, fresh from the laundry sweatshirt... that is now covered in nothing but flour and cake mix. you were going to wash it, honest! it's just... cleaning the kitchen took more time than you anticipated, and kiyoomi was supposed to stay at the gym for the whole day. he knows that that sweatshirt is his. you expect your boyfriend's eye to twitch, or for him to frown, or to even complain that you just ruined his very nice and outrageously priced hoodie. instead, he walks over to you, and places a kiss on your forehead. you've got flour all over you, including your hair, and surely he's got some flour on his lips now. he doesn't complain or say anything about the ruined sweatshirt. he just says, "thanks for baking. i'm going to go shower."