#midnight cravings part one

[stayteezdreams]

Midnight Cravings: Part Two

Plot: After you and Felix realize you have no way of contacting each other, you both wander around familiar places, hoping desperately that you might find each other again.

-Part One-

Pairing: Lee Felix x Gn!Reader

-Meet-Cute Series-

Words: ~3k; it came out a lot longer than I intended, but I'm glad! I liked writing it :)

Your best-fried wasn't sure if they should think you were sweet or crazy. Following you down various roads near the super-market where you met Felix in hopes you might recognize his apartment building was not what they had planned.

"Is this it?" They asked you as you walked down another road.

You groaned and shook your head, "Maybe? No- I don't know."

You hated that you hadn't paid more attention of your surroundings when you and Felix had walked back to his apartment that night. But you had been so engrossed in conversation with him, you didn't even take time to note how long you had been walking.

It had been nearly a week since you met Felix, and nearly a week that you spent pining after him.

You were so angry with yourself that you hadn't gotten his number, and you hated that you felt so intent on finding him. Especially when you had no idea if he would feel the same. He didn't ask for your number either, so maybe he was fine with it being a one-off meeting.

Stopping, you really started to think more about it. What if you did find his apartment? What if you knocked on the door and he answered. Would you tell him that you had been walking through the nearby neighborhoods looking for his apartment? Would he think you were weird? Would he be freaked out? You felt your gut clench. Of course he would be. This was not a normal thing to do.

You sighed and shook your head. "This is ridiculous, I don't know why I thought this was a good idea. Let's go."

Your friend pouted a bit but nodded. She really did think it was cute you felt so drawn to this guy, even after you pulled the not-so-clever move of going to a stranger's apartment to bake brownies in the middle of the night. Which she had told you off about.

But seeing your defeated face, she really did wish you had found his apartment. She had never seen you act like this about anyone. This Felix guy must be something special.

"This is the fifth time this week we've come to this store, Felix. We don't even need any groceries." Seungmin grumbled as he followed Felix down the aisles as he looked for your familiar face.

"I know, I just-"

"Want to see your brownie soulmate again, I got it." He finished Felix's thought.

Looking down the aisle he had met you in, he sighed, feeling defeat wash over him. You weren't here, just like you hadn't been the last five times he had come. He eyed a box of the brownies, the same kind the two of you had made.

'At least they restocked them.' He thought as he grabbed one and turned away.

"Let's go." He mumbled in defeat as he and Seungmin walked to check out.

Seungmin watched Felix closely as the two exited the store. "Are you going to try again tomorrow?" He asked, feeling genuine pity for Felix as he saw the slump of his shoulders.

Felix wanted to say yes, but he began to wonder if there was really a point to it. Maybe he'd never run into you again. Maybe you didn't want to run into him again. Maybe, the strong feeling he felt towards you was just a one-sided feeling. Maybe it would fade.

Felix sighed, "No, I don't think I will." But even as he said it, he knew it was a lie.

As you drove past the store you had first met Felix, you pulled in, a hope sitting in your chest that maybe, just maybe you might see Felix here.

As you walked around the store, grabbing a few things, you looked at every face you passed and felt the pit in your stomach grow deeper.

Walking down the baking aisle, you stopped at the brownies. You noted that there were only three boxes left.

"Should I get two?" You mumbled. Thinking for a moment, you settled on one as you grabbed a box of brownies. The exact same kind you had made with Felix.

Would Felix think of me when he makes brownies? Will he think of me at all?

You sighed as you felt pathetic for your own thoughts.

No, probably not.

You however did think of Felix as you made the brownies. You thought of the jokes the two of you made in hushed voices in his darkened kitchen at one in the morning. You thought of the bright smile on his face that felt like the sun itself. You thought of how sweet and kind he was towards you. And then you thought about the sinking realization that you had no way to reach him again. And that you might never see him again.

Why do I feel like this? I knew him for three hours, why do I feel like I got my heart broken?

You put your head in your hands.

I've never fallen for someone so easily before. Why now? It would be so much easier if I could just forget.

You thought back on something your friend had said earlier. 'Maybe it was love at first sight. Maybe you're soulmates. Maybe that's why you feel like you need to find him.'

You had scoffed at her words, thinking maybe she was just teasing you. But as your emotions seemed to only get harsher, you started to wonder if there might be some truth to her words. No matter how unrealistic it sounded.

Forgetting to set your timer, you threw yourself on the couch and turned on the TV, your eyes heavy as you felt exhaustion wash over you. You continued to replay the few hours you had with Felix, and before you knew it your eyes started to close.

As the smell of smoke filled your nose, you woke from your accidental nap in a dazed panic. The memory of the brownies caused you to rush into the kitchen and throw all the windows open before scrambling to get the brownies out of the oven.

After the panic of the next ten minutes, you sat back on your couch and let out a sigh. You made a note to yourself to call the landlord and tell him your fire alarm might not be working, because there was no way it shouldn't have gone off.

When the adrenaline finally faded you dealt with the burned brownies as you let out a scoff. "Nice one Y/n." You groaned, feeling sad as you looked at the charred brownies now in the trash. "I really wanted those too."

Looking at the clock, you noted it was getting late, but it wasn't midnight, so maybe it wouldn't be as unhinged this time if you went and got another box. Thinking back to when you met Felix, you let hope rise a bit as you decided to take a walk to the store.

Felix grumbled to himself as he finished sweeping up the remains of his brownie mix from the kitchen floor. He hadn't been paying attention when set the bowl down, he hadn't realized he set it on the corner, only for it to topple off the second he let go.

It was entirely his fault and he knew it. His mind was too plagued with thoughts of you that he wasn't paying attention. All he could think about as he prepared the brownies was that he wished you were there to help him.

Baking was his comfort but baking with you brought him not only comfort, but a joy he didn't realize he had been missing. It was a feeling he wanted to hold onto forever, but he already felt it fading.

Sighing as he dumped the baking mix into the trash, he checked the clock. It was just after six, not too late to go back to the store. His mind flashed back to the moment he first saw you. When your hands touched and your eyes met. That was the first time he had ever properly felt butterflies.

Grabbing the house keys, he made his way out of the apartment and down the road. He doubted he would find you at the grocery store, but he still held onto the fact there was a chance. Felix told himself this was the last time he would purposefully look for you, though even as he did so, he knew it was just another lie.

'I don't think I'll ever stop looking.'

As you stopped in front of the brownies, you eyed the last two boxes. "I should have bought two." Grabbing the boxes you began to leave before you hesitated.

Looking back at the empty shelf, you sighed before you put one back and headed back to the register. Your eyes naturally scanned the store as you went, before you rolled your eyes at your own actions. 'He's not here, get over it.' Though the disheartened feeling in your chest only grew.

You decided to walk home slowly, taking in the cool evening air before you returned to your smoke-scented apartment. You hadn't gone slow enough however, if you had, you might have been spotted by the blonde boy heading down the path towards the store.

Felix made his way towards the baking aisle, his eyes darting around the store as he became more and more disheartened at no sign of you.

'Of course they wouldn't be here, don't be stupid. Your luck's not that good.' He chastised himself.

Spotting one last box of brownie mix, he smiled to himself as he grabbed it. Had you come back to buy one at all? Did you think of him when you did? Did you maybe look for him like he looked for you?

Not realizing just how right he was, he made his way to the register.

As he placed the box down the cashier smiled, "These sure are popular today."

Felix rose his brow, "What do you mean?"

"Someone was just in here a few minutes ago and bought a single box of these exact brownies, just like you are."

Felix felt his heart thump loudly in his chest. Was it? Could it have been?

Felix rapidly described you to the cashier, desperation in his voice. The cashier just nodded, a bit stunned, "Yeah. You know them?"

Felix felt a rush of panic and excitement bolt through him as his adrenaline rose. "Where did they go? Did they drive? Did they walk, which way did they go?!"

The cashier mumble out the vague direction you headed and Felix bolted for the door, ignoring the call of the cashier that he had forgotten the box of brownies. But Felix didn't care, he was acting on impulse. He would not miss finding you again. Not when he had a chance to see you again.

He ran up the sidewalk where the cashier had pointed, hoping he hadn't remembered wrong. Would he see you in time? Were you already home? Just how long ago was "a few minutes"? Felix started to wonder if he was being crazy, if maybe he was too late. But he let his legs carry him, and as he rounded the corner, his eyes widened as he spotted a head of familiar hair disappearing around the next road.

"Y/n!" He yelled out, hoping you might hear him as he tried to run faster.

You halted as you looked around, swearing you heard your name being called. Did it come from behind you? Turning in curiosity, you looked back around the corner just in time to let out a gasp and drop your box of brownies as someone almost tumbled into you.

Staggering back, the person stumbled to a stop as they reached out their hands as if to steady themselves. Your fear turned to shock and then to elation as you saw Felix's familiar face grinning at you. He was breathing heavily, but his smile was wide.

"Felix!" You called out almost breathless, taken off guard by his appearance. "What- Where did you come from?" You asked with stunned amusement.

Reaching down, Felix picked up the box of brownies and grinned at you. After he let out a few more tired breaths, he explained to you what had happened.

You watched him with bewilderment as he grinned through the story. He had really chased you down just to see you again? Suddenly you didn't feel so crazy for trying to find his apartment complex from memory.

"So you sprinted to catch up with me?" You laughed out, ignoring how your heart was pounding at this knowledge.

Felix smiled shyly as his cheeks turned pink. "Yeah, well, I uh- I really wanted to see you again, and that night I didn't ask for your number." He frowned. "I should have."

You let out a soft groan, "I regretted that too, I actually-" You stopped, still worried that he might think you were weird for searching for his apartment. He just raised his brow and you finished, "I only realized that we hadn't exchange numbers after I had gotten home." You admitted instead.

Felix nodded his head, some relief filling him that you regretted it as well. He eyed the brownie mix before he gave you a soft smile, "I bought some earlier too but I dropped it on the floor."

You rose your brow, "I did too! I mean, I bought some earlier but...I forgot to set a timer and almost burned my apartment down because I fell asleep."

Felix's eyes widened before you both laughed. "So you came back for more...just like me."

You nodded and smiled before looking at his empty hands. "Didn't you say you bought some just now?"

"Oh! I uh, ran out of the store without actually buying them." He smiled sheepishly and you giggled.

Eyeing the brownie mix you met his eyes, "We could share?"

Felix felt a sense of déjà vu before a bright smile crossed his face. "Your place or mine?"

You laughed as you looked back the way he had come from. "I've got a feeling we're a bit closer to my place now."

He chuckled and nodded, "Lead the way."

You had your face in your hands as Felix laughed. Leaning closer he tried to get a look at your face, "You really tried to find my complex from memory?"

You groaned, "I know, it's so weird! I'm so embarrassed."

Felix laughed again, but really his heart was bursting with joy. You really had wanted to see him again, just as much as he wanted to see you. You just tried looking for each other in different places.

He watched as you uncovered your face as you poked at your freshly baked brownie, still avoiding his gaze.

"Don't be embarrassed" Felix said softly as he leaned against the counter, "It's cute."

You slowly peered up at him, and instead of a teasing smile, you were me with a bright, genuine, and adoring smile.

Your heart thumped violently in your chest as you repressed a grin. "Cute?"

He nodded and you let out a sot scoff. "That's definitely better than you thinking I'm crazy."

He chuckled, "If that's crazy, then I'm crazy too. I went to that store about half a dozen times, hoping I'd see you again."

You looked up at him fully, and though his smile was still bright, I appeared more shy.

"You did?"

He nodded softly, "Yeah."

Felix felt butterflies in his stomach as you smiled at this. He could tell you were feeling shy as you remained quiet before taking a bite of your brownie. Following your lead, he ate his as well. Both of you shared pleasant smiles as you enjoyed them.

The joy Felix felt the first time you baked together had returned in full. He knew this time there was no way he'd leave without planning to see you again. Your number was already saved in his phone, under the name that Seungmin had dubbed you 'Brownie Soulmate', maybe a bit bold, but it felt suiting.

Felix's eyes graze over you, before fixing on a small piece of chocolate on the edge of our lip. Another wave of déjà vu hit him.

Standing up straight, he turned towards you, gaining your attention. Slowly he reached out and grazed his thumb over your lips.

You stared at him silently, your heart pounding. He did this the first time too. And just after, you had gotten lost in each others eyes. You kept wondering what might have happened if Seungmin hadn't come in. You thought it was too bold to think he may have kissed you. But now as Felix's eyes moved from your lips to your eyes, with a more intense gaze than before, you started to wonder again.

As Felix started to lean closer, his eyes drifting back to your lips, your wonder turned to elated surprise. And when his lips met yours in a soft kiss, your mind went silent.

Your thoughts were halted as you felt what you could only describe as sparks, no, fireworks.

Was this only the second time you met Felix? Yes. Was it probably crazy that this was happening? Maybe. Did you care? No.

When Felix pulled way, his eyes met yours. He held the silence for a moment before he whispered, "Was that too forward?"

You shook your head, "No."

His lips curled up as his eyes flitted around your face, he gently stroked your cheek before he spoke again. "Then can I do it again?"

You smiled brightly at him before you nodded, "Yes."

This was of course, only the second out of countless kisses you would share in your kitchen, and the few of many brownies you would bake together.

What started as a midnight craving, ended in happily ever after.

xx End xx

A/n: This was the final part to my Stray Kids meet-cute series, I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

As always, Reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated <3 Thank you for reading!

Skz General Taglist: @laylasbunbunny

Series Taglist: @bubblesreplies, @halesandy, @why-am-i-sad, @sourmooonlight, @jaeheekangslover, @seungminsdreamwife, @thesunsfullmoon, @ink-spilled-stars, @jisunglyricist, @marcillfll, @ultimatestayandminoronce, @cheeeseceli, @3rachasninja, @raehawthorne

Part Two Taglist: @jordan1024, @queen-klarissa (<you showed interest in your reblog, hope you don't mind the tag <3)

[fxstpace]

“wonwoo,” you whisper, nudging his ankle with a sock-clad foot. “wonwoo, wake up.”

he grunts and mumbles something unintelligible, before his lips part and he lets out a soft snore. his hair is a mess—probably because he never seems to stay still when he’s asleep. you reach out and gently trail a finger down the bridge of his nose.

“wonwoo,” you try again. he shivers involuntarily. “baby, darling, light of my life. sugarplum. rubber duck. love boat.”

“i’m going to break up with you if you call me that again,” your boyfriend finally says, opening his eyes and squinting at you. you grin. he sighs, though it’s not a weary sound. more fond than anything else. loving, in the way only jeon wonwoo is. “what do you want?”

you lean over him, elbow brushing over his chest, and try to switch on the lamp placed on the bedside table. fumbling for the switch, you flick it on and blink when the room floods with soft amber light. you kick the duvet off of wonwoo’s legs, ignoring his startled huff.

moving back, you place both arms on either side of wonwoo’s head and hook a leg over his waist. his hands come up to grip your sides. despite his sleepiness, he smiles up at you—a slow, lazy one, the kind he gives you when he’s happy and content. it brings a smile to your own face.

“i want ramen,” you say in response to his question. “i’m really hungry.”

“really?” 

“really.” you nod.

his thumb rubs circles on the part of your hip where your shirt is ridden up. “and you couldn’t make it yourself?”

“you make ramen better than i do.”

“it’s literally three steps,” wonwoo says, amused. “it’s packaged food. it tastes the same regardless of who makes it.”

“it tastes different,” you insist. “please?” 

he laughs, chest rising with the movement. “okay, okay. if you say so.”

“thank you.” you bend down and kiss the corner of his mouth. “you’re the best. i’m the luckiest person alive, i swear.”

“flattery gets you nowhere,” wonwoo says, but when you clamber off the bed, he follows you to the kitchen after grabbing his glasses.

and there’s something so tender about this, so fragile, a delicate sort of thing that you will cherish and protect with your life—something special about cooking and eating ramen at midnight, specifically with him. 

it tastes different.

author’s note — wrote this because i was craving instant noodles last night at 2 am. unfortunately i did not have a jeon wonwoo to cook them for me & i didn’t have any ramen left at home 😔

[sunnami]

❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.” 

You blink. 

“Get the fuck out of my room!” 

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making. 

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls. 

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!” 

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze.  Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!” 

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly. 

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.” 

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.” 

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say. 

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies. 

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”  

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.” 

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—” 

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.” 

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you. 

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”) 

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—” 

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.” 

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?” 

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.” 

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.” 

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home. 

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)  

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that. 

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”) 

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.” 

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze. 

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.” 

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much. 

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile. 

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.” 

“I know.” Harry grins. 

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.” 

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally. 

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.” 

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)  

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow. 

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers. 

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.” 

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.” 

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you. 

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast. 

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.) 

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?” 

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.” 

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you. 

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.” 

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze. 

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.” 

“Oi!” 

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.” 

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.” 

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary. 

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.” 

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”) 

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.” 

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.” 

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!” 

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?” 

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically. 

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name. 

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now. 

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?” 

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.” 

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right? 

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.” 

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily. 

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.” 

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.” 

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable. 

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced. 

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear. 

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.” 

Harry’s eye twitches. 

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.” 

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly. 

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.” 

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?” 

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.” 

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.” 

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.” 

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading. 

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands. 

“In your dreams!” You shrill. 

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.” 

Harry nods. “Is it time already?” 

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.” 

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?” 

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.” 

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?” 

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?” 

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat. 

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.” 

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this. 

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes. 

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.” 

“One date, then.” 

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?” 

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.” 

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.” 

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you. 

“And I want to—” 

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” 

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—” 

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.  

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration. 

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases. 

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words. 

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.” 

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.” 

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.) 

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance. 

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.” 

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm. 

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.” 

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.” 

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.” 

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth. 

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it. 

He falls in love.) 

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.” 

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?” 

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.” 

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.” 

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.” 

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.” 

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

[tbaluver]

The Love And DeepSpace Men- Boyfriend Headcanons + Scenarios/ Imagines Pt. 2

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader requested: myself bc i craved writing something sweet genre: perhaps tooth rotting fluff fluff warnings: none unless you want cavities a/n: every day i wish they were real and every day i have a lads brain rot and i would gatekeep these ideas but i would never so here ya go ! lmk if i should write more of these ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა enjoy reading ! first part is here if you haven't read it! Pt.1 any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

The type of boyfriend who will finish your food whenever you can't finish it. He'll let you eat his food even when you say you're not hungry or you don't want anything. If the food he gets isn't something you would want, he'll make sure to buy something for you even if you say you don't want it.

You can expect his hand to always sneak into your lap when you lay in bed together after a long day. Gently embracing your lower stomach and whispering sweet nothings into your ear before you both fall asleep.

If you can't sleep, he'll try to join you for midnight snacks and watch whatever's on TV. He's trying his best to stay awake but you can already see him dozing off, clutching the stuffed plushie you won at the arcade.

Scenario:

You two sat on the soft grass, surrounded by a blanket of stars that painted the dark canvas of the night sky, eagerly waiting for the shooting stars to streak by.

"Xavier do you have anything in mind for what you're going to wish for?"

He turns to you, his gaze softening and a gentle smile spreads across his face. "I don't need to wish for anything else if my wish has already come true- I'm looking right at her."

Zayne:

He keeps all the little trinkets you've given him by his nightstand at home and his desk at work. That way when he wakes up you're the first thing on his mind, not that you left his mind in the first place. Each time he glances at them, he's flooded with happy memories and filled with anticipation to return to your embrace.

The type of boyfriend who puts a blanket over you if you fall asleep on the couch and eventually carries you to your shared bed.

Puts a ridiculous amount of sugar in his coffee that kind of leaves you concerned for your lover's sweet tooth.

Scenario 1:

You two lay in bed together, enjoying the lazy morning, not wanting to get up as if doing so would mean the day truly had to begin. You trace the outlines of his bare chest, your fingers dancing over the area where his heart beats.

“What are you doing?” he asks curiously as he watches you glide your fingers gently around his chest.

“Finding your heart and seeing who lives there,”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, a smile curling on his lips. “No one is there right now.”

You frown at his response, a playful pout forming on your lips. He cups your cheek, finding your reaction to be amusing and adorable. “That’s because the owner of my heart is currently right in front of me.”

Scenario 2:

As Zayne rushes to get ready for an emergency call from the hospital, his glasses are perched on top of your head.

“Zayne, aren’t you forgetting something?” you hinted, leaning in for a goodbye kiss.

“Ah yes, thank you.” He retrieves his glasses and you mock a pout. But he leans down, brushing your lips with his with a sweet kiss, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I love you. Please don’t stay up waiting for me again.”

Rafayel:

Sometimes he can be your boyfriend but sometimes he's also like your child from how much you baby him

He needs to be close to you at all times. The type of boyfriend who is all over you all the time. He needs to be close and touching you at all times. If you got hot from cuddling, he'll have either his hands or legs over your body because if you were apart for more than a second he thinks he might explode.

The boyfriend who stays up making something special for days and stays up overnight just to make it perfect just for you.

The type of boyfriend who adjusts your do not disturb on your phone so only his notification pops up whenever you're on do not disturb.

Imagine swimming in the ocean, you're enveloped in his embrace as you both gaze at the moonlight and stars above. He holds you close, resting his chin gently on the top of your head while you nestle your hand and head against his chest. It’s perfect like this. Just two of you near his homeland, the sea. Just him and you in your own world where you both find peace with the gentle sounds of the waves surrounding you both.

Sylus:

At the beginning of your relationship he redecorates his entire home so that you'll like it more and feel more inclined to stay over and stay the night at his place.

He only has a soft spot for you and only you. You see a side of him no one else does and not just that but his super silly side.

Sometimes he'll lift you onto the counter or lift you up to get what you need on a high shelf just because he wants to hold you.

The type of boyfriend who gets on his knees or sits down to be on the same level as you when you don't want to look up at him anymore. If he was sitting, he's definitely pulling you to his lap because you're not going to be the only one standing!

The type to hold all of your shopping bags and pure for you when you’re out shopping together. He does not complain about holding your purse at all, not that it would ever bother him in the first place. Also does not complain about holding all of your shopping bags, it’s literally light work for him and he would encourage you to buy more things of whatever you wanted.

Imagine after a long night at an auction, you two stumble back into your shared home not breaking the kiss. Your hands rest on Sylus’s neck, slowly sliding down as he murmurs sweet phrases against your lips. His strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you bridal style, guiding you both toward your shared bedroom.

[vividxpages]

༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚. "the craving"༉‧₊˚🤍❀༉‧₊˚. PART 1

Read Part 2 here 🤍

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 6300

summary: after a long day of scouting together, your betrothed Jacaerys and you are forced to seek shelter at an inn when a storm is raging outside. The only "problem"; there is only one, tiny bed for the two of you.

warnings: sexual tension, they're both virgins, but the Targaryen ancestors wrote a kamasutra for future generations and Jace has read it ;) , only one bed trope, cuddling/spooning, sexual content (making out, vaginal fingering, a little bit of dirty talk from Jace), aftercare

a/n: I had a lot of fun writing this story and it's my longest one for Jace so far, hope you like it! <3 I also have some ideas for a potential part 2 👀....

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃

It was a rare occurrence for you, being chosen by the Queen to scout for the day, patrolling the sky and the lands underneath it from a safe distance. 

You were a princess of Dragonstone, but you were also a dragonrider, even if you were still young and an honor like this filled you with undeniable pride.

It was an even rarer occurrence that she allowed Jacaerys to join you.

Your recent betrothal to the prince had been a blessing, making your strong bond of friendship weave itself only tighter, but it also had brought up feelings you'd thought you simply could've brushed aside before.

Jace had gotten more...protective of you, more tender and you could not help but feel yourself being drawn to him too, longing for the mornings spent together at breakfast after saying goodnight to each other on your doorstep the night before.

Of course, there were rules, things to do when courting and things to avoid, such as sharing a room before marriage and the things that could happen in said room…

But you were never the one to follow rules lightly and weren't you going to be married anyways? All you needed was a little push until you'd surrender your heart and your body to Jacaerys...

And somehow, you had a feeling you weren't alone with these forbidden desires.

Today had been mostly spent in the sky, flying together as if you had never done something else. You were a unit, always knowing where the other was and what they did and it seemed like your dragons were delighted as well by the recent development of your planned union. 

You couldn't help but laugh with the wind when they playfully snapped at each other, both making little besotted growls from time to time, like Jace and you were interrupting a date.

Everything would've been alright if the storm hadn't moved into your direction.

It was getting darker and darker and both of you couldn't make your dragons move any faster, since they were young just as you and Jace were. Situations like this couldn't exactly be trained beforehand.

When the rain hit you, your mood dropped instantly.

"It's getting late!" You heard Jacaerys' familiar voice calling over to you through the wind and rain. "The weather isn't going to get any better and we are too far away from Dragonstone to make it back before midnight. We have to find a place to spend the night, it's no use."

You knew he could see the frustration on your face, worrying what your people back in the safety of Dragonstone's walls would think if the future of a more hopeful realm did not return as punctually as expected.

"She's going to be worried out of your mind for you." You called back, but the rain in front of you was blurring your vision and you kept pushing your hair out of your face.

Vermax let out a displeased growl as thunder rolled through the clouds. Jace squinted his eyes to make you out next to him, the storm getting stronger and stronger by the minute. "I'm not going to let us get struck by lightning! There's a merchant route right under us, if I remember it right. We land, now."

You reluctantly tugged the reigns of your dragon tighter around your fists and steered her down, following Jace and Vermax through the clouds as they descended. You couldn't argue with him, but a stop in an unknown region was risky. Even if you two were in the company of your dragons.

By the time you had landed in a clearing of the forest Jace had spotted from up above, your clothes were dripping wet on the ground.

Climbing down your dragon's back, you couldn't help but snort as Vermax immediately seeked shelter underneath the massive pine trees from the weather, his rider fondly shaking his head at his companion. 

As you approached, Jace sighed and squinted up into the sky above you. "I know you dislike this, as I do. But I'm not taking a risk. It's better to wait the night instead of getting attacked in a thunderstorm, don't you agree?"

"Yes…" You looked at him, still a little conflicted. "But we can only hope our people at Dragonstone agree with you as well."

Jace smiled at you, raising both his hands in defense. Like this, eyes bright and wet hair curling around his already beautiful face, he was a vision, making you permanently weak in the knees. "They will agree, because I am protecting the princess, my betrothed, as you are protecting yours."

Yours.

You involuntarily shuddered, the promise of being married to him one day never tiring of sending lightning through you.

While you understood the Queen's choice to wait with marrying you because of the war, you were growing tired of being denied what you craved so badly; not the ring on your finger - a beautiful thing you knew Jace had already commissioned to being forged, one of Vermax' scales sitting in its silver center - but the boy you were dreaming about at night, visiting you in the quietness of Dragonstone, sliding underneath your warm covers to-

"Everything alright?" Jace had stepped to your side, one hand on your shoulder. 

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "We should stop and rest at the first place we can find."

The traveler's road was empty and no one noticed the two of you stepping out of the forest and making your way over to the first building you saw, a small inn with its windows alight from the inside.

You shivered at the thought of a warm fire and wrinkled your nose at your clammy leathers. On top of it, your belly growled and Jacaerys and you shared a look.

A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Don't worry, I'll find you something to eat even if I have to hunt it myself tonight."

You blushed, his words always managing to touch something deep within you.

Jace and you entered the inn, immediately enveloped by its delicious warmth and sociability. As Prince and Princess, you were not used to a civility like this and for a moment, you wondered what it'd be like to live like this, leading a simple life with Jace where no one would know you and you could do whatever you pleased. What a dangerous thought this was...

Just before you and him reached the small reception counter of the inn, Jace placed one of his gloved hands on your lower back, a secure and telling gesture that made your skin underneath the riding leathers burn pleasantly.

"Good evening." He spoke confidently. "My wife and I are looking for a place to stay for the night. The storm has caught us off guard on the road."

The innkeeper looked at you and although you knew he didn't want to hear it, you silently said a prayer of gratitude for Jace's beautiful dark hair and eyes. If he'd have silver hair, all could be lost, depending on the opinion of the inn's staff on this ongoing war.

You tugged your cloak tighter around you, hiding the riding leathers on your body, and looked back calmly. You forced your bottom lip to wobble as if you only now remembered the cold haunting your bones. How fast could you make your way back to the forest and your dragons before the whole house was up on their feet for two Targaryens in its midst?

"It caught us off guard alright as well, good sir." The innkeeper said goodnaturedly after a moment and you sighed on the inside. "The taproom is bursting at the seams tonight. I can only offer a single room, but I'm sure it's no problem for two young lovebirds like you. Dinner will be served for you, too, if you require it."

Jace swallowed thickly, not meeting your gaze at the prospect of a tiny room for the two of you. 

So far, your betrothal had consisted of courting each other quietly and sweetly, the long promised wedding pushed back again and again, much to your frustration. To share a room with Jace before you were married - it sent a shiver down your spine and you couldn't say it was a bad one.

"We require it. And thank you for the room. We will pay in advance, of course." Jace produced a small sack of coins from his cloak and you stepped aside and peeked into the full taproom, trying to calm your racing heart.

When he was done, Jacaerys stepped up to you and smiled encouragingly, although you could see through him instantly and saw the same nervousness possessing you. This was no place for you two and yet here you were.

"Dinner, my lady?" Jace asked under his breath and with a snort, you let yourself be led into the taproom, carefully avoiding any curious eyes on you as you found a quiet corner in the far back where hopefully no one would disturb you or have questions. 

Quickly, two plates with bread, cheese and tomatoes were brought to your table and Jacaerys and you began to eat, tense in your wariness for your surroundings but comfortable in each other's presence. 

He politely declined the waitress's offer of beer, but made her bring you a pitcher of clear water, the day spent underneath the sun having dried out your bodies like nothing else.

After a while - you were still munching on your bread and Jace looked about to be finished - he took a few of his tomatoes and placed them on your plate, a silent encouragement.

"Thank you." You said quietly and ate them too while he kept watch, over you and the room behind you. But in all the hustle going on in there, no one had time or interest for a young couple on the road and soon, your plates were empty and you retreated upstairs and down the narrow corridor.

The last door was yours.

Your eyes widened shortly as you took in your room for the night. There was a window where rain splattered against the glass, a small table with a chair and a bed, although it could barely be called that if you thought of your enormous bed at Dragonstone.

Beside you, you could feel Jace pausing as he locked the door, his eyes darting back and forth between you and the tiny bed in the corner of the room. If only one of you could fit, it'd be a miracle and the floor was in no condition to be slept on.

You took off your cloak and threw it over the chair, opening your mouth to speak just as Jace did.

"I'm taking the floor." He declared and you wanted to roll your eyes and also kiss him for his selflessness.

"You will not sleep on this floor, Jace." You argued and as you wrung out your damp hair, the last droplets of water fell onto the boards, blooming in the dust covering them. 

Jace stayed silent for a moment, wrapping a cloth from within his cloak around the doorknob and tying a tight knot, so you wouldn't be disturbed by any unpleasant visitors tonight.

"Please don't be ridiculous now." You tried again, softer this time. "You had a long flight today, too. We slept side by side when we were kids sometimes, remember? We'd fall asleep in the gardens of King's Landing while we watched the clouds, dreaming of riding our dragons someday."

"But we are not kids anymore." Jacaerys said quietly.

No, you weren't. 

And as you looked at him, reaching behind himself to unclasp his cloak, his dark curls still framing his serious face, you knew there was not an ounce of childlike innocence in you when it came to him.

"And I-" He interrupted himself as his cloak joined yours on the chair and you did not step back, only shuffling closer to rest your hand on his nape. 

What had gotten into you? This boldness, it was dangerous and misplaced and- very much exciting.

Jace slowly looked at you, his dark eyes like burning embers, bringing the heat to your cheek you so desperately needed.

"I'm afraid I cannot control myself around you, princess." He confessed hoarsely and for a moment you thought the wooden floor underneath you had turned into water and you were trying to dance on top of it, unsteady.

You exhaled shakingly, tongue tied in your shock at his confession, but a burning heat swirling pleased in your stomach. 

After a moment, he forced himself to tear himself away from you and cleared his throat. "I mean this in the most chivalrous manner, but I think we should take off our leathers if we don't want to be sick in two days."

You agreed and the two of you turned away from each other, the spell broken.

You faced the wall by the bed as you reached behind yourself, your fingers fumbling with the laces of your uniform. Whoever had invented dragonrider clothes had not intended them to be taken off without the help of half a dozen maids.

Your movements were clumsy and unpracticed, used to getting attended to by your maids for these kinds of things, preferably followed by a hot bath after a long flight.

But now, you were helpless and frustration grew quickly in you until you tilted your head back and let out a tired sigh.

"Jace?" You spoke over your shoulder and heard shuffling. 

"Yes?" 

"I...I can't take them off myself." You admitted, risking a look behind you to see his leather uniform draped over the table, only thin linen pants and a matching top remaining on him. You had never seen him like this, never could've imagined what was laying underneath his princely attires. He looked...innocent, like a boy with big eyes as he watched you. Biting your lip, you added: "Could you help me, at least with my laces?"

"Of course." He breathed and stepped closer as you turned around again, holding yourself completely still as you felt his warmth radiating against your back.

Suddenly, his hand was in your hair, brushing in awe over the wavy strands. "Can I…"

"Yes." You breathed, your nerves fluttering. "Please."

You shuddered as he carefully brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing your tightly laced back to him.

Then, with surprisingly skillful fingers, he began to swiftly unlace you, his hands dancing over your spine and making their way down your back.

You were sure neither of you was breathing, your mind growing a bit foggy as you let him attend you like this, the task of a maid replaced by the care of your betrothed.

"All done." He whispered after a while and you were snapped out of your dreamy thoughts. You could already breathe more lightly as the riding leather dangled down on your sides, the front only held up now by your hands on your chest.

"Thank you." You whispered back. What would happen if you turned around now and faced him? Were you too far gone already or would you be able to remember yourself before it was too late?

"I'll light some candles and I...I won't look." Jace said flustered and turned away again, giving you as much privacy as he could as he busied himself with the unlit candles by the table.

Quickly, you slid out of the rest of your uniform until only the thin dress you wore underneath remained. With only these undergarments on you, you almost tripped as you slipped under the covers of the bed and pulled them all up to your chin.

The cold rushed back into you tenfold and you pressed your lips together to keep your teeth from clattering. 

Silently, you watched as Jace lit the last candle and checked the doorknob for one last time to make sure you were safe for the night.

When there was nothing to be done about the state of the room anymore, he met your gaze and asked one more time: "Are you sure?"

I'm afraid I cannot control myself around you…

You nodded, shuffling to the wall as far as you could. There was barely space left for another person, even like this. "Yes. We both need rest."

It seemed like your shivering only intensified as you felt his weight dip on the mattress, joining you as carefully as he could without bumping his knee into your side.

When he was settled, on his slim back while you laid on your side, facing away from him to hide your burning face, he drew the blanket over the two of you, trapping you in for a tight fit and combined warmth, hopefully.

The silence in the room was thick, loaded by something you could not name yet. 

"Try to sleep." Jace whispered to you in the darkness. "Tomorrow, at sunrise, we'll take flight."

You tried your best, you really did. 

But there was no use, not when he was laying so close to you. You were too aware of him, too overstimulated by the mere thought of his body so close to yours, his body heat radiating off of him while you still missed your own.

You were sure the whole mattress was shaking with your quivering, your lips blue and limbs clammy from the cold that had soaked into you on dragonback. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed for a slumber that wouldn't come. 

Jacaerys couldn't bear it anymore.

Seeing you, feeling you shiver so pitifully, he had to put an end to it. It was what a good husband would do.

"Princess…" He whispered into the darkness and you tensed. "You're freezing. If you'd let me...I want to help."

"Help?" You echoed, looking over your shoulder. Like this, you could only make out his eyes in the dark, his silhouette tempting and comforting at once.

Jace swallowed thickly, shuffling until he laid on his side and could support his head with his hand. "If we'd be...closer, I could warm you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, his boldness surprising both you and himself. As scandalous as it was, you already felt yourself drawn to him, your cold bones screaming yes, yes, yes.

"If I won't inconvenience you." You murmured shyly. "I'm shaking like a leaf."

"I'll do my best to change that." Jace promised dutifully, darkly, and shuffled even closer.

Now, you were sure your heart was going to give out. 

Underneath the blanket you shared, Jace pulled you to him, his arm sneaking around your waist as your back met his chest.

You sighed, a small sound of relief as the warmth of him enveloped you and you could feel it also leaving his chest, as if you were two pieces melting together into one.

It was a lover's embrace, there was no doubt about it, but the line between you had already been blurred tonight, ever since he had called you his wife downstairs.

It should've surprised you more, how well your bodies fitted together, how natural the curve of your spine found its place against his lean torso. With his arm securely around you, making sure you'd stay connected, you were not sure if you could not breathe anymore or were finally able to.

"Is this good?" He asked you quietly after some time, your heads now sharing a pillow, a space, an embrace.

No. You needed more.

"Yeah...you are really warm." You breathed out and he chuckled and gods, you could feel the sound against you and thought nothing about this was real, not the inn, not tonight, certainly not him.

You shifted in his embrace, trying to get a little more comfortable when he suddenly let out a low hiss, your bum brushing against-

Oh.

Oh.

You wanted to combust.

You wanted to turn around and kiss him stupid. You wanted to do everything and yet, you were frozen in place, hotness rushing through you at the thought that your prince had gotten aroused while he laid with you like this.

"'m sorry…" He whispered near your ear and in front of your inner eye, you saw his eyes closing in defeat, having given in so quickly to his carnal desires.

You were about to be a very bad betrothed.

Innocently, you moved back against him and he choked on his breath, his mouth now hovering over your nape, the damp hair you wished to be out of your way now to feel him better.

Your hand rested on his forearm around you  and you traveled your fingertips upwards, brushing over his knuckles until you could entwine your fingers, squeezing him reassuringly.

"Princess...we can't." You wanted to chuckle at his unconvinced tone, an unfamiliar strain to his voice like he was trying his best and most to hold himself back from giving in to you.

"We can." You whispered back, kissing his hand in yours and hearing him sigh behind you. "I want you so badly, I feel like I'm dying."

It was too much, to hear those same words he only dared to think in his mind, it shattered the last bit of self control Jacaerys could muster up. He had been aroused ever since he helped you undress, the dreams that usually had him waking up in a sweat in his chambers at Dragonstone now coming true right in front of him.

"Please, Jace." You added with a sigh, pushing back against him. "Give in, please."

He surged forward, his lips making contact with your neck and setting you aflame.

You let out a low moan, the sight of the wall disappearing in front of you as you closed your eyes blissfully, focused only on the feel of Jacaerys lapping at your neck.

It was like he tasted something exquisite and unique, taking his time as he brushed your hair aside, his other hand delicately holding your jaw as he suckled the sensitive spot underneath your ear, making you twitch back in surprise against the outline of his hard cock.

He stifled a groan, something final snapping in him and he turned your head, his finger swiping over your chin and cheek as you both stared at each other, pupils gone wide and dark with desire.

"May I kiss you?" He asked huskily and you nodded quickly, your hand finding its way into his curls, tugging him closer until his hot breath grazed your bottom lip.

"Yes." You let out breathlessly. "Kiss me, please, I-"

He closed the distance between you, engulfing your mouth in a hot, desperate kiss, both of your lust and longing for each other too grand to think clearly anymore.

Still gently holding your jaw and you in his arms, he kissed you passionately, his lips moving slow and relishing against yours. You sighed happily against him, your fingers tightening their hold on his curls and making him groan, his free hand spreading itself out on your stomach.

Heat sloshed through you as your tongues danced, the kiss so much more than what you'd ever could've dreamed of. You never wanted to stop again.

His embrace was possessive, with not much room for you to do anything else but give yourself over to him, caged between the wall and his lean body.

You wanted to drown in his kisses, never to be seen again.

When the air in your lungs got thinner, making you lightheaded, the two of you pulled apart, panting and staring at each other with kiss-bruised lips.

Your hand fell over his own on your stomach, the fabric of your undergarment dress worthy to you of being burned in the heat of the moment.

"Can I touch you?" Jace gasped into your ear, almost a plea.

You nodded frantically, but he shook his head, his curls brushing against your cheek. "I need to hear it from you, love."

Gods, you were truly going to die by his tender hands.

"Yes…" You hissed, your mind already drunk on him. "I want you to touch me, Jace, I need it so badly."

You ground your bum back against him and Jace released a moan, the sound going right into your core, where wetness was pooling between your thighs and making a mess of you.

He peppered kisses on your cheek and jaw, relishing the way your back arched against him as his hand dove underneath the blanket and fumbled with the seams of your gown, tugging up the fabric as he went.

His hand slid over your naked leg, the skin still a little cold and covered in goosebumps he hoped were his doing. Up and up he went and you were panting by now, mind and body controlled by arousal for him, just for him.

Resting a gentle hand on your inner thigh, he spread your legs open, just a little, and kissed you once again, so he could feel the exact moment you'd-

"Ah-" You gasped in his mouth as his fingertips touched your clit and it shouldn't have been enough, you wanted so much more, but you already felt like you were able to find release from just this.

"Gods, you're driving me insane." He groaned, burying his face in your neck and suckling on it as he slowly began to rub circles onto you, his hand dipping down further to gather more of your wetness on his fingers. 

You shuddered at the sensation of his hand between your legs and then you keened as he obscenely spread your own juices over your clit, swirling his finger over the aching bundle of nerves.

"Fuck…" You whispered, your mouth falling open as he started a careful rhythm, letting you adjust to the sensation of having your clit pampered like this, easy circles and slight rubs.

Laying on your side only seemed to heighten your senses.

Your quivering legs tangled, bodies firmly pressed together, his hands around you like vines protecting a precious secret. You did not know anymore if you were tense or melting as he played with you, experimenting with the direction his fingers could go, gently tapping against your sensitive flesh which made you see stars...

And of course, your thighs - becoming sticky with your own juices, his finger being joined by another one and carefully massaging your most intimate part. With every round they went on you, your grasp on control slipped a little more and soon, you were a writhing mess, bucking your hips against Jace's hand as he continued to kiss your neck and relished the delicious little sounds you made because of him.

"You're so wet." He murmured, in awe of you and your body and you moaned, slumping against his back as he gently plucked on your clit, shiver after shiver running through you and ruining you. "I only dreamed of you like this, princess. You are a sight to behold."

You wanted to say something, anything, but it seemed like your brain had melted, mewling as he cupped your whole core and slowly shook his hand, the friction intensifying only more as vibrations were sent through your pussy.

"Where did you learn all this?" You asked breathlessly and he chuckled, blushing and nuzzling your sweaty neck lovingly as he dipped his fingers lower, almost where you needed him the most.

"The library at Dragonstone can be very...educational. On many different topics." He murmured melodically and you were still, awaiting, as he pushed your undergarments up more, his hand drifting up over your stomach and towards your chest. "Some of the books our ancestors kept there are very...interesting to read. Diaries of fiery encounters and instructions on love making. I had to resist taking notes when I read some of those passages, on how to please women when I could only picture you in my head."

A guttural, broken moan left you when he mouthed at your neck, licking over your exposed throat.

It distracted you just enough that he nearly sent you into an early release as his wet, glistening thumb circled around one of your rosy buds before he raised the same finger to his lips and had a taste.

You both groaned in union, your thighs squeezing together as you stared at him, his own eyes closed in bliss at the taste of you. Just as he had imagined…like honeydew.

He slid his hand underneath your neck so you could rest your head on his strong arm, the same hand coming down to cup one of your aching tits. Like in everything else; you were perfect for each other here. His hand had just the right size for you.

You eagerly spread your legs again as his other hand snaked down your body again, both his and your remaining clothes drenched by sweat, the room smelling of sex.

"I'm dying to know how you feel around my fingers, princess." He confessed and you bit your lip, trying to fight the urge to cross your eyes as his fingers ghosted over your wet clit again; and losing. "Can I? Can I have you like this, my love?"

What a dirty tongue your betrothed had…

If your mind had been any clearer and not as fucked out, you would've asked him if he also learned that in his books, but that was a conversation for another day.

"Yes." You gasped instead, bucking once again against his hand over you, cupping your core and squeezing your clit between two of his digits, making you moan brokenly. "Please, Jace, I need you to fuck me, please, fuck me-"

You knew he couldn't, you both couldn't, at least this much of both your composures remained. But there were other ways to find release and apparently, your sweet betrothed was an expert at executing them.

He raised himself a little, peeking over your shoulder so he could look at your heated face, rosy cheek and wet, parted lips just for him. Jace pulled you into a kiss, sweet and slow this time and you moaned right into his mouth at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks and you were overwhelmed in the best possible way as Jace's finger slid through your juices once again before he entered you.

You could've sworn you heard his and your dragon roar triumphantly in the distance as he slid his finger into your drenched core, your moan loud enough to go beyond the walls of your room and raise questions - or brows at such distasteful actions behind closed doors. If they only knew.

He groaned at how tightly you squeezed his single digit, fantasizing how you'd feel around his cock. Jace twitched against your back and you held him only tighter, your hot walls eager to let him in. 

You were so wet, it was a slippery little affair and as he let you adjust, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your clit, his rhythm reflected in the way your core clenched up deliciously.

You locked eyes with him, half-lidded and ready to die a sweet death at his hands, begging him softly: "You can move. It's okay, you won't hurt me." 

It was like you were playing your wedding night and he let out a shuddering breath, needing to stay in control before he threw it out of the window and deflowered you right here, in a bed and place that wasn't worthy of you. He'd never forgive himself if he would not make it special.

Slowly, he pushed forward and further into your heat, his finger quickly becoming wet and slippery and covered in you.

You let out a satisfied sigh, letting yourself be kissed as he oh so gently began to build up an easy rhythm, not brave enough yet to sink to the knuckle into you, but feeding your soaked cunt more and more of him, his mind alert to spot any discomfort in you and ready to stop and wait for you.

But you had wanted him for far too long to need any more caution from him.

And the sounds - gods, the sounds were driving you insane. You were so wet, your pussy was making slurping sounds at the intrusion of his finger and you bit your lip blissfully when he finally found his pace, light and easy on you, but no less hot and intense.

Only the rain splattering against the windows and your little moans and gasps could be heard as he fingered you gently, the pads of his finger dragging over your walls and trying to find the one tiny spot he had read about, enough to make a woman lose her mind and all final restraints if done right.

You were mewling, gripping his arm over your chest tightly and occasionally biting his skin softly to stop you from being too loud. 

"You are so beautiful." He slurred against your temple, keeping his eyes only on you to capture every one of your reactions and keep it in his mind.

You moaned wantonly, maybe because of the praise or because his thumb dragged over your pulsing clit, he didn't know. But oh, how he wanted to find out.

For just a moment, he stilled his movements and you looked at him with wide eyes, your hips trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, but him not letting you. 

Jace watched you closely, quickly kissing your quivering lips before his voice dropped low and he murmured: "Your cunt feels so good around my fingers, my love. You're squeezing me so tightly, ñuha jorrāeliarzy, you are the most beautiful thing in the whole realm and all mine."

"Yours." You echoed and whimpered, solely because of his words.

He couldn't help but smile besottedly, storing the effect of his words on you away for another time and  resuming to fingering you gently. 

Soon, after you whispered you were ready for one more, two of his fingers were now softly pumping in and out of you and you knew you could not last much longer under his sweet tormention.

Your hips had begun to move on their own and he watched you with both fascination and love as you rode on his fingers, your eyes closed and your lovely mouth opened in the sweetest o-shape. 

If he'd still now, he knew you'd continue to fuck yourself on him and god, how he wanted to see it, but there was still one ace up his sleeve and he couldn't wait any longer to try it.

He crooked both his fingers upwards and you tensed in his arms, moaning into his arm and losing yourself almost completely as he touched a part of you you didn't even know existed.

"Jacaerys, gods, I-" You whimpered as the pads of his fingers rubbed against that rough little spot in you, your hips twitching uncontrollably.

"Let go for me, princess." He encouraged you, kissing your cheek and nuzzling his face against yours sweetly. "I can feel you dripping around me, your perfect cunt weeping for me…"

You were floating, only held back by Jacaerys' arms around you, playing your body like a delicate instrument as one hand played with your tit while the other still rubbed against your sweet spot, eager to bring you to release.

His thumb came back onto your clit and your hips arched, pressing yourself forward against his sticky hand as he rubbed delicious circles on you.

"Come for me, my love, I need to see, need to feel you." He coaxed you further, smiling against your neck and adding in a whisper: "Let go for me, my sweet wife."

That was it.

You exploded, coming hard around his fingers, whimpering pitifully as tears of pleasure and overwhelm escaped your eyes. 

You rode your high, your hips helplessly bucking against Jacaerys as he kissed your tears away, softly talking you through it and soothing you down with gentle hands from a peak you had no idea how to recover from…

Jace watched you closely, fascinated and so, so in love, as he slowly slipped his fingers out of you, an obscene string connecting them to your wetness he could not see.

To make sure you would not feel too empty, his hand cupped your mound, keeping you warm and secure as little aftershocks ran through you and you were panting and peppering little kisses on his arm, clinging to him with all your might.

"You were so good…" Jace whispered lovingly, kissing whatever he could reach of you, his body keeping you warm and sated in the aftermath of both your actions. "So, so beautiful…"

You hummed, tired and thoroughly happy as you slowly calmed down, relishing the feeling of his warm hand still on you, carefully avoiding your spent parts so you wouldn't feel overstimulated.

Exhaustion clung to your bones, a mixture of the long day on dragonback and the oblivion of good sex, but you still felt Jacaerys hard against your back. He had not yet found his release and you were eager to give it to him.

You tried to turn around, to reach down between you and touch him, but he was not having it.

"Sh sh, this was only about you, my love." He shushed you, his strong arms efficiently stopping you from wriggling against him. He soothed his hands over your sides and kissed your temple. "When I take you to bed properly, it will be at Dragonstone where I can take care of you as a loving husband should."

You shivered at the promise, without any coldness left in your veins.

He smiled against your cheek, his fingers lightly drawing circles onto your hip bone as he leaned closer and whispered into your ear: "And then, I'm going to take my time with you, princess, learning how you taste on my tongue...ravishing that sweet little cunt of yours…"

Your core deliciously clenched up at the thought, but you were also sleepy, your eyelids already betraying your intentions as they drooped. You snuggled yourself closer against Jacaerys, stifling a yawn.

"Don't worry, we'll have all the time in the world…" Jace lulled you closer to sleep, the sweet nothings he whispered to you being like a warm blanket draping itself over you.

"Jacaerys…" You mumbled, feeling your grasp on staying awake slip further as his hands ran softly over you, making your mind hazy and blank. "Thank you...I- I'm very warm now…"

He laughed quietly, his chest blooming with happiness as he felt your body slump against his. 

Jace closed his own eyes, resting his chin on top of your head and holding you against him protectively. He was the luckiest prince of the realm tonight and forever if he only had you.

And you, his princess, were warm and sated and in the embrace of the one you belonged to.

And suddenly, as you drifted off into a long and peaceful slumber, flying back to Dragonstone in the morning did not look so dreadful anymore...

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃

my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[ladybyakuya]

| WHITE DRESS + JING YUAN.

+cw. — f!reader, established relationship, arrange marrige, fluff, pining, banter, teasing, suggestive content , mention of feixiao :D

+wc. — 1k

+syn.— a peek in general Jing Yuan's married life with you.

+notes. —can be read as stand-alone but if you wish to read the other parts can be found in my masterlists | redirect to blog navigation.

Jing Yuan had a very mundane morning routine before you walked into his life. That’s how he used to keep his sanity at bay. Being the General of Xianzhou Alliance's Cloud Knights for centuries, fighting and protecting his people he had rather grown comfortable in it. He is just too used to zone uproars and war turbulence but it has been peaceful for a while. He likes that. That’s why he is taking it easy. But when you came into his life he was on edge again. He has something to protect, something belonging only to him. It was like walking on a wire again. Surprisingly, you filled the boring gaps in his mundane morning routine.

Jing Yuan wakes up at seven o’clock in the morning, like he usually does but he is naked under sheets ever since he got you as a wife but that is not the case on all days. But often he wakes up to an empty bed running his hands on your side of the bed with a soft smile over his face that has a warmth of morning dews because he gets to spend the whole night with you after work. It’s not easy to have this abundance of mundanity for a man of such power, wealth, status, and responsibilities. He is more happy than he was before. He waters the plants, sinks in the lap that nature has to offer, and then gets ready for work— and that is when he first sees you. He used to wear his armor all alone before he married you, thinking that if he died people would mourn him, people would miss him, people would remember him but that is all they will do for the rest of the generals too. He is not something special. But with you in his life, he feels special. He has someone to come home to, someone who would be too devastated to live if he died on the battlefield. He does not do anything except coordinate his movements so that you can easily put on his suit but there are days when he throws tantrums. The whole corridor gets filled with giggles on days like that, your giggles especially.

“Wait,” Jing Yuan grabs you pulling you into his body. His hands immediately lock you in an embrace. “Let me take a good look at my wife.” This. This few minutes where there are no lingering staffs or any sort if interruption is an absolute bliss for him. He touches his forehead with yours as you refuse to look at him, playing with the brooch on his collar. He knows you feel shy at first. He always have to get you a little worked up to be comfortable but that denotes him off because it might be just a kiss to you but he is going to think of it for the rest of his day, wide awake— no dull moment in his life. You are the cure to his boredom. Despite such yeaning agony swelling in his heart, his lips wrap around yours. It's wet, coated with longing. One of your palms moves under his jaw and he knows his time is up. He pulls away with a groan. 

“I’ll set the table, yeah?” you mumble unlocking his hands easily now. If you hadn’t given in so easily like how you used to he would have ended up having you cave in to his cravings before he goes to work. Yeah! That’s how he is. You leave him in the room to get to work as thinks back to one of his most fond memories of you. Ever since he caught you having a midnight snack alone in the kitchen after few months of marriage,he demands to eat the food cooked by you. It was one hell of a night. It wasn’t the sex that set this night apart from others. Sex was good, of course, but amongst those dim lights, when you were busy stuffing your mouth with the food you freshly cooked as he stood beside you holding the plate for you, all he wanted was to protect you, your happiness, and your sadness — everything related to you.  

Jing Yuan sits to dine as the staff sets the table while you stand aside keeping rapt attention if anything is amiss. “Wait! you forgot something. he calls you out. You tilt your head and wait as he adds, “a kiss!” You immediately look around to see if any of the staff heard your husband or not but now they are all gone. They know better than you. Did he really forgot what happened in the dressing room? You saunter towards the table thinking its better just to give in rather resist; as you stand by his side, and lean to place a dry kiss on his cheek and then you turn on your heel to walk away.

“Just on my cheek?” Jing Yuan enquires with surprise in his tone as he stops you by grabbing your hand. Finally, you chuckle— ah! what a time to be alive. 

“Feixiao is waiting. I got her message.” You sit on his lap encapsulating your free arm around his shoulder while he refuses to let to of your other hand. “I have already made her favorites. Your too, love— He kisses your hand as you keep going on— and it's packed. I do have a lot to do today. The staff are getting lazy. . . ” Ah! He remembers how you were so silent during the first few months of marriage. Not that he is complaining but he is just. . .blessed to see this side of you. He does not particularly fancy sweets yet is but he feels nauseous at this point since you are too sweet for him. Oh! How can he ever deny you? He can deny sweets but not you.

You feel the gaps of your fingers being filled by his fingers. “can we stay like this a while longer?” Jing Yuan asked as he kisses the back of your hand. 

“You know we can’t.” You watch him pout a bit so you are compelled to add, “Come home soon.”

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 16.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content (somno, intense fingering, edging, overstimulation), soft!dom Dean, also some fluff sprinkled on top of it ♡ (Also! English is not my native language)

Summary: Dean loves to pleasure you when you’re still in your half-sleep, still dozy and all his to play with and to take care of… and this time he coaxes you into taking a little more than usual.

Words: 2,520

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: I skipped the 15th Dec. prompt, since I felt like writing this one first. I'll post the 15th later some time! On another note; I've got a new theme! Made my own lil' banner and such. Hope you like it 😳 ANYWAY

♡ ENJOY THE torturous EDGING MY LITTLE VIXENS ♡

16th Dec. - Roll Over Rule

The sound of Dean’s serene breaths make you tiptoe your way around the bed, careful not to wake him from his deep sleep. It was late, 3AM by now. You’d done some late night research in the War room with Sam, losing track of time as you often did. And you’d basically forced Dean to go to bed a few hours ago since he had stayed up the past nights.

You slowly slip under the covers and still in your movement for a moment – listening for the slow rhythm of his breath. Good, he is still asleep. And he has occupied 3/4rd of the bed as always. Your face softens as your eyes take in his peaceful state; his face pressed into the pillow, his ruffled dark blond hair still a bit damp from the midnight shower. He’s on his stomach, his body twisted in a way that almost makes you wince inwardly. And his left arm stretched out to your bedside. Waiting for you to latch onto it, as it had become a silent habit of yours.

You gently grab his arm and snuggle up to him. Your arms wrap tightly around his muscled upper arm and his forearm gets tucked nicely between your thighs. Dean stirs briefly, mumbling something before he angles his head to rest it against the top of yours. You let out a soft, content sigh, relieved that you didn’t wake him from his dreamless sleep. Soon enough you fall asleep with your limbs entangled with his arm, feeling his comforting warmth and listening to his calming breaths of a slow steady rhythm.

You don’t know how much time has passed, maybe an hour or so, when you feel Dean’s arm slightly twist in your grip. Suddenly his hand slips between your legs to cradle you there with palms up. Your mind’s still too sleepy to fully register what’s going on when a little shiver goes straight to your core. A small, almost imperceptible one. But your body acts on instinct and doesn’t need your mind for what it subconsciously craves. You suddenly let go of his arm and roll over onto your stomach – a sleeping position you usually never take. Unless, it’s meant as a green light for Dean to go on.

Yeah, you had been pretty needy lately. ‘Damn, you’re like a bitch in heat, babe.’ As Dean had commented on it shamelessly. Which not only made you sputter, but had Sam choke on his beer and Cas raise his eyebrows in confusion, secretly wondering why Dean would compare you with a female dog.

Your mind quickly slips back into that cozy sleep – whereas Dean seems to have woken up beside you. He places soft kisses along your neck, his hand gently running up and down your body, occasionally slipping beneath your pyjamas.

Next moment you remember, you feel hot and aroused. Your inner thighs are wet, your clit swollen and you’re panting slightly. And then you feel his two fingers slip inside you, effortlessly parting your slick folds. A meek moan escapes your lips, your mind still somewhere caught between sleep and excited arousal.

“You good, sweetheart..?” you hear his gravel voice next to your ear. You nod, not wanting the pleasure to stop but too sleepy to form any words.

He picks up a tantalizing pace. His small and middle finger pumping inside your dripping wet cunt while his index and middle finger slide along your folds, pinching your clit between them with every thrust. Your moans grow louder and soon turn into needy whimpers, begging him for release.

“Mh? Tell me baby…” your answer once again is a weak, short whimper. A thick haze clouding your sleep-addled mind and ridding you of any capability to form a thought, let alone words. It’s like you’ve been turned into a whimpering, mewling mess – powerless in every form. At this moment you were his entirely. Completely at his mercy. And knowing Dean, you are left with no other option but to take the overwhelming pleasure and to teeter on that torturous edge. Over. And over. And over.

Dean is truly a master in the art of edging. His calloused fingers playing you like it’s child’s play, hitting every spot at the right moment and – to your frustration – changing rhythm and withdrawing them every single time right before you get to fall over the edge. Leaving you mewling desperately, close to tears from the overwhelming built up tension in your core. You cry and pant into the pillow breathless while he starts over with the procedure, denying you the final relief with a cheeky grin of his.

Soon a third finger is jammed into your throbbing cunt. Dean and you groan in harmony when your walls clamp his fingers, pulling them in like they were made for you. He bites back another deep moan before grazing his bottom lip with his teeth. "Damn... sweetheart, you're killin' me here..."

Once he rode you through another round of edging by switching between the numbers of fingers every now and then, you quickly adjust to the new size.

When Dean notices how his fingers slide in and out so effortlessly, an idea forms in his head. He suddenly presses his lips against the shell of your ear. His voice a husky whisper, gentle and yet demanding, “Show me how deep you want it.”

You don’t even think, your body acting on its own. It’s like he’s got you under some magic spell, the relentless working of his fingers keeping you spellbound. His hand stills while you buck your hips against his hand. Further and further up, angling it while you press your chest into the mattress – the increasing tightness making you whimper and bite down on the pillow.

But to Dean’s amazement, you keep pushing against him, taking it all the way. Even when he slowly slips a fourth finger inside. He bites back another guttural groan. The feeling of you clamping his fingers and now even slowly, tentatively rocking your hips against him is almost too much for him.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, despite your mindless state. You roll your hips up against him and a loud groan erupts from your throat at the intense sensation of him splitting you apart.

Dean leans a bit back to relish the view with parted lips: He’s knuckles-deep inside you. His four thick fingers stretching you to the point you feel like you might explode. He’s completely filling you, his fingertips hitting your most sensitive spot at the very end.

He lets you set the pace, only occasionally curling his fingers as he draws sounds from you which can only be describe as borderline pornographic. Every whine and mewl are rewarded with a stronger flick of his thumb over your swollen clit. Your legs are shaking and you buckle from the increased friction, the pleasure doubled with a simple continues rub against your bud.

It doesn’t take long until your legs not only tremble but start to give in and fight the mattress for some form of control. Short erratic puffs of breath burst out of your mouth and a little dribble of saliva escapes the corner of your lips. The sight alone would’ve almost sent Dean, but the sounds you made – my God your sounds of pleasure where like heaven to him.

Desperate and overwhelmed, your body starts to act on its own again; your legs kick and squirm and writhe. Your hips suddenly jerk away and your fingers dig into the sheets enough to strangle a grown man.

Dean’s eyes widen briefly, leaning down with his weight to keep you still. “Shhh-Shhh,” he coos reassuringly, but with an almost mock-innocent undertone. As if that sly bastard didn’t know that you are on the brink of breaking.

He slings his leg around one of your kicking legs, effectively holding it in a deadlock as he presses it back into the mattress. “Ah-ah-ah,” he playfully warns you with a cocky smirk, “Stay here, sweetheart… ain’t done with ya yet…” He moves his free hand up to the back of your head where he carefully threads his fingers through your hair, taking a fist full to gently tug your head back and hold you in place.

A pleading whimper leaves your lips. Begging for relief, for him to finally allow you to fall over that damn edge. You try to voice your plea for mercy but any word that’s meant to leave your lips is smushed into another pathetic, strangled noise on its way out.

“Damn… can’t even talk any more can ya, gorgeous…” Dean chuckles deeply, his rumbling chest vibrating against your back as he keeps you pinned down under his weight. You can feel the muscles of his hard calf, tense and unyielding against your trapped leg. Your thigh straining against him in vain, twitching and trembling. Your toes claw at the sheets in a desperate attempt to break free from his grip, whimpering something which he recognises as a scrambled, frustrated “please”. But he doesn’t budge, his strength effortlessly keeping you at his mercy and leaving you no chance of escaping his onslaught.

He leans down to your ear, his voice dropping an octave when he asks teasingly, “You wanna come? That it, baby? You want me to make ya come?”

Yes, yes, yes yes yes – you keep repeating the word in your head until you realize that you’re only whining more. Dean chuckles, “That a yes? Hm? What was that?”

Oh Jesus Christ he’s enjoying this way too much. This time you nod – frantically. Not taking the risk of your answer getting lost again. Your sounds are hoarse by now, your body contorting from his four fingers slowly moving inside your cunt and his thumb working your clit every now and then – not enough to let the knot in your stomach burst, but enough to keep you on the brink of it. He falls into a tantalizing pace, sometimes shallow, sometimes so deep that it makes your half-lidded eyes roll back with a pained groan.

Dean meanwhile drinks in the sight of you squirming from the pleasure he can give you, all at his mercy, making sure to not give you a single moment of catching your breath.

“Oh yeah..?” Dean lets out a low hum. He pulls your ear lobe between his teeth and gives you a little tug at your hair. You’re shaking, even your whimpering sounds are clipped, breathless and trembling, your mind numb by now. Your body overstimulated and exhausted from chasing that sweet relief for what feels like hours.

“Jesus, you’re so vocal babe… you know how hard this gets me?” He groans against the side of your face and he grinds his rock hard erection against your hip to prove his statement. After a moment, he releases the grip on your hair and moves his hand down your neck, angling his shoulders to push his arm down between your shoulder blades to keep you from wiggling away. “You’re such a good girl for me…” he says while shifting his position on top of you, “And good girls get a reward…”

Fucking finally. A long shaky exhale escapes you when his weight presses down on you, his body covering you like a heavy blanket. He supports himself by leaning up on his right elbow, always making sure not to put too much pressure on you, but enough to let you feel his strength and the power over you.

His hot, ragged breath hits your ear once more. Whispering in that gravelly and authoritative tone of his, every word punctured by a deep thrust of his fingers, “’M gonna count down from ten… and when I hit zero... I want you to come for me baby, understand?”

Lord have mercy. You nod again, although most of his words went past you and at this point you would have probably agreed to anything for that relief. With your brain melted into a useless puddle, you feel like you’re only driven by need and primal instincts by now.

And then, the next ten seconds feel like the most intense you have ever experienced. With every number you feel your knot tighten more, your core burning up as if it was to explode any second – but not yet, not yet —

“…seven…”

He moves his arm along your back to grab your left hand, holding it down. “…six...” His fingers intertwine with yours, while his other hand picks up its pace. “…five…” You’re suddenly arching your back, involuntarily trying to squirm away from him. But his firm chest keeps you safe beneath him, while his lips form the next number against your ear, “…four…”

Almost there. Your free knee slides along the mattress aimlessly and your other hand rips at the pillow, feeling like your body is about to snap into two. “…three…”

Determined to get you there, his calloused thumb flicks your overstimulated bud without mercy, earning himself another guttural whimper of yours, “-that’s it, let me hear ya …two…”

The sound of his low rumbling voice cuts right through your haze and a shudder shoots through your body. The anticipation’s almost killing you at this point, feeling coiled up like a spring.

“…one…” You can feel it, the wave building up and ready to crash down on you. Dean can sense you’re on the very edge too and he intends to send you over it this time. He gently bites down on your neck, muttering his final order against your skin, “…zero… come for me, sunshine.” You go tense like a bowstring and your head snaps forward to bury your face in his elbow. When, at last, the wave hits your body and the knot in your stomach finally explodes with a strangled scream of relief. Several shudders of pleasure ripple through you, leaving you twist and turn, sandwiched between the mattress and Dean’s heavy body. He lets you ride out your high, his strong muscles working to hold you close to his chest.

You pant heavily, shakily. Your mind finally clearing. Your bleary eyes fully opening for the first time, like this was all just a dream too good to be true. His voice draws your attention to his face, when he gasps. “Jesus sweetheart… it’s like a swimmin’ pool down here.”

That comment takes you so much off guard, that you break out into a surprised laughter. He grins at you before he joins with his own hearty bark of amusement, a cocky grin on his face. “I ain’t kiddin’ – I’m growin’ fins!” He holds up his drenched hand, wrinkled skin, wiggling his cum-covered fingers in front of your eyes, “Look!”

He chuckles and his widened eyes take in the mess with something like fascination and an eager lick of his lips. The corners of his smile pull up into a lazy grin when his emerald eyes meet your satisfied and dozy, half-lidded ones again. “Y’know… I think ’m gonna need to clean up that mess down there.”

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[machveil]

unfortunately i’m in the mood for some toxicity🙂‍↕️ imagine you’re in a fwb/nsa/situationship with the cod men and they see you with a hickey they know for a fact they didn’t give you?

thank you so much I worship your mind🙂‍↕️

you want some angst? I’ll give you some angst [evil finger tapping]

becoming friends with benefits with ChildhoodBestFriend!Simon Riley. you’ve both always been there for each other - Simon finding an escape in you. when his house was too loud? he’d find a way out, enjoy the silence of sitting beside you. when his father was too much, had a few too many drinks? he’d leave to find shelter with you. high school brought you closer together, Simon looming behind you, walking you to your classes before waving you off, crossing half the building to his classroom

CBF!Simon Riley who spent every waking minute he could with you before joining the military. honestly, he was like a lost puppy, tail between his legs while following you around. he really considered saying ‘fuck it’, thought long and hard about staying so he wouldn’t leave you behind, but ultimately going for his own good. he always visits you on leave though, ever since his first one, you’ve been his first stop, his main priority. even now, well into adulthood, he keeps going to see you, return to you. all it took was one New Year’s celebration - the two of you sat on a couch - to start it off. a sweet, slow kiss when the ball dropped at midnight, hands grazing each other. his heart laid out in his palms, hands cupping your face, honeyed kisses becoming consuming

FWB!Simon Riley who considers this a stepping stone to actually having you. you’ve been the one consistent thing in his life, cold, dead eyes becoming warm and relaxed at the thought of you. as much as it’s physical intimacy for Simon, it’s also a fantasy - what he could really have. he could have a warm bed— a warm home with you. sleepy mornings, delighted laughter, toothy smiles. he could have shared t-shirts and stolen hoodies, dog tags miraculously found around your neck. he could have a relationship with you, a real, til death do you part relationship. rings on your fingers, a shared last name, a spouse, someone to call his, and someone to call yours

Simon, who could have that, yearns for the day he can get over himself and confess to you, seeing a hickey on you. it peaks out of your shirt collar, holds his gaze with a muddled combination of reds and purples. it makes his throat tighten, stomach stir with something ugly— his hickeys always look so pretty on you, but this? to Simon it’s marred you skin, a blemish that shouldn’t be there. you’re not his, but his heart shatters knowing someone else touched you, or that— god, don’t think about it. maybe it was his, maybe Simon just doesn’t remember it (false hope, but repeating it might make it sound true). he can’t bring himself to ask, so he just stares at it. your voice, the one he wants to hear say ‘I love you’, is all but ringing in his ears

CW: Fem!Reader, more angst, oral and fingering (fem!receiving), domestic cravings from Simon<3, a little more angst

FWB!Simon Riley who can’t pay attention to anything besides that mark, mind a mess. are there more where he can’t see them? did someone get to see you laid out and pretty? how did they touch you? where did they touch you? was it someone that could replace him— “Simon? Are you okay?”, your concerned voice snapping him out of his thoughts, eyes glazed over with something you don’t recognize, “Do you need to lie down?”. there’s a lethargic ache in his heart, a devastating mourning for someone he still has. is he going to lose you? would you leave him behind for someone he doesn’t know? a stranger who could hurt you?

“Need you, sweet’art.”, he can’t help the crack in his voice, can’t help but lower his eyes to your hand - a nude finger that should be adorned by a ring. it happens in slow motion, his mind moving through murky water. he knows you’re speaking, feels your hands on his, but the heartache is so much more prominent. he doesn’t know what he’s saying, mumbled words leaving his lips that have you smiling softly. legs weighed down by sludge and steel-toed boots. there’s only clear waters when you kiss him, soft lips meeting his. a slow blink before he’s shrugging off his clothes. he won’t be abandoned. death can’t keep him from you, some stupid bloke that left a hickey on you doesn’t stand a chance. rough, calloused hands gently pawing at you, squeezing the fat of your hips as he dips forward, chapped lips leaving soft kisses on your face

he won’t be forgotten, he knows he can be better. gently guiding you to lie down, a boyish smile on his lips when you laugh softly. that’s the laugh he wants to marry, “Good girl, bein’ all pretty f’me.”. your clothes are carefully worked off, he’s too obsessed with how excited you get over a good outfit, doesn’t have the heart to tear them off you. he’ll buy you whatever you want for the wedding, mouth trailing kisses down your thighs. featherlight kisses worked down to your ankles, a soft puff of cool air blown on the soles of your feet to hear you complain and see you squirm. a content rumble in his chest as he leans down, he has something to prove - even if you’re oblivious to his motives. he’ll always treat you right, better than anyone else could, he knows it. eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you clit, a multitude of little open mouthed kisses, softly sucking before pressing another one. Simon is better, he’ll show you

all but making of with your cunt, sloppy, wet kisses littered against you. crooked nose bumping your clit as he eats you out, warm tongue lapping at you, you need Simon as much as he needs you, he knows it. chin and nose slick, satisfied groans leave him when you tug at his hair, thighs jerking slightly as you cry out. of course he’ll give you more, slowly working you open with two thick fingers. you always feel so good around him, warm and wet. it’s not long before you’re sobbing out his name, small hiccups between gasps as you orgasm. “Did good, sweet girl— you’ve got another one f’me, yeah?”, gravelly voice low and steady as he shifts, gaze smitten as he speaks softly to you. he knows you won’t get rid of him, his pretty soon-to-be missus taking his cock so well. hips rolling steadily into yours, deep thrusts that make you see stars. head dipping down, he’ll show you he’s better, raspy moans leave him as he sucks at your neck, carefully litters bite marks against your skin. dropping down to bite and suck his own marks over the offending one, leaves it unrecognizable, covered by his own teeth marks

FWB!Simon Riley who’s convinced you’re his afterwards, makes it his new priority to treat you like his wife before he leaves. he’s suddenly over every day, sleeping over almost every night. you can’t shake him, your big, brutish best friend suddenly glued to your hip, hands caressing you like porcelain, lips pressing gentle kisses your skin. he knows he’s won you over, it’s the only outcome that makes sense

FWB!Simon Riley returning to base, begrudgingly leaving you behind. he never asked who left that hickey, how it happened. in the grand scheme of things, he figures it doesn’t matter. Simon can’t help but fantasize over coming home to you, a high he doesn’t want to come down from. a worldview that shatters when Price mentions the bird he’s met - a pretty little thing that sounds all too familiar

[msilwrites]

Midnight Snack Mystery (Simon 'Ghost' Fic) Part 1

Wife! Reader Pregnant! Reader Hungry! Reader Possessive! Ghost Possessive! Simon 'Ghost' Riley Possessive! Simon Ghost Riley Good Cook! Simon Ghost Riley Husband! Simon 'Ghost' Riley Hungry Wife! Reader. By this time he is already Captain or Major! or Lieutenant Col! Simon 'Ghost' Riley

 Part 2,  Part 3

Long, not so-long, but light hearted read. Warning: Don't read when hungry!! Summary: Pregnant with Simon's child, Y/N experiences intense late-night cravings. Her overprotective husband, Simon, keeps a close eye on her, ensuring she’s well taken care of. However, Y/N discovers a late-night noodle shop that serves her favorite foods—dumplings and noodles—and she can’t resist the temptation. She sneaks out in the dead of night for quick food runs, careful not to wake Simon. But Simon, ever the observant one, eventually catches her in the act and decides he’s not letting her sneak off again without a word.

----------

Midnight Snack Bust

Simon stirred slightly in his sleep, his instincts sharper than most even when off-duty. The weight on his chest—a comforting one—shifted, then disappeared altogether.

His eyes fluttered open in the darkness. Your side of the bed was empty, the covers pushed back, a slight chill left in their absence. Simon frowned. This wasn’t the first time.

He waited, still as a statue, listening for any sound that might tell him where you’d gone. The faint creak of the stairs gave you away.

Downstairs, you shuffled around the kitchen, carefully balancing a plate of toast smothered in butter, jam and honey. The thought of waking Simon was laughable—he was always in full protective mode, which meant no late-night snacks for you unless he hovered like a helicopter. Besides, you could handle it. The kitchen wasn’t that far from the bed.

Except, as you turned with your snack in hand, there he was.

Simon stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a shadowy figure of unimpressed authority. The glow from the fridge cast just enough light for you to see his raised brow.

“Really?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You froze like a deer caught in headlights, the plate in your hands trembling slightly. “I was hungry.”

“You could’ve woken me.”

“It’s toast, Simon. I think I can manage toast.”

He stepped forward, his size practically swallowing the kitchen whole. “Not about the toast, love. It’s about the stairs. And you bein’ pregnant. You fall, then what?”

You rolled your eyes, but he plucked the plate from your hands, setting it on the counter. Without another word, he scooped you up—scooped, like a bloody princess—and started carrying you back to bed.

“Simon!” you protested, flailing slightly.

“Shush,” he muttered. “You’ve got enough on your plate—literally—without riskin’ your neck for a midnight snack.”

----------

Back in bed, Simon pulled the covers over both of you, his arm locking you in place like a human seatbelt.

“Next time, wake me,” he said, his voice softer now. “You want toast, noodles, a bloody roast dinner—I’ll get it. Just don’t go sneakin’ about.”

You sighed, nestling into his chest. “Fine. But I’m holding you to the roast dinner.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Deal.”

---------- A Wonderful Discovery

One sunny afternoon, you and Price’s fiancée (A/N: Same person from Papa Bear!! Material ;) and many more in this universe of mine, lol! ) decided to meet at a charming little tea house. It had become a bit of a routine—your way of catching up without the boys around to interrupt with their dry humor and war stories.

She was her usual lively self, flipping through the menu even though she’d already decided on her order. You admired how she could make even the simplest thing—like picking a biscuit—seem like an adventure.

“I’ve got to tell you,” she said suddenly, setting her menu down. “There’s this noodle shop. Open late. Best dumplings you’ll ever have. Like, melt-in-your-mouth, life-changing dumplings.”

Your eyebrows rose. “Late-night noodles? Around here?”

She nodded, leaning forward as if sharing a state secret. “Not just noodles—bao buns, dumplings, the works. I discovered it after one of those long nights when John was stuck at the base, and I didn’t feel like cooking. It’s a lifesaver. You’re lucky—it’s right near your place.”

Your interest piqued immediately. The thought of sneaking out for some steaming hot noodles had your mouth watering. “How late are we talking?”

She grinned. “Oh, past midnight. Maybe even 2 or 3 AM.”

----------

That night, as you lay in bed listening to Simon’s soft snores, the thought of that noodle shop lingered. You could almost taste the broth, the tender dumplings, the savory goodness of a late-night food escapade.

The idea began to take root.

----------

Late Night Escape

The idea simmered in your mind all evening. By the time Simon had brushed his teeth, pulled on his oversized sleep shirt, and settled into bed, it had blossomed into a full-blown plan.

You waited. And waited. Timing was everything. Simon’s arm, draped heavily across your waist, rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing. His presence was solid and warm, a comforting weight—but tonight, it was your obstacle.

Carefully, you began to inch away, moving like a prisoner attempting to slip past a sleeping guard. His hand twitched, and you froze, holding your breath. After a long moment, he let out a soft snore.

Victory.

Sliding out of bed, you padded quietly to the wardrobe, pulling on Simon’s oversized hoodie and slipping into your trusty anti-slip slippers. The eco bag was stashed by the door, waiting. You slipped it over your shoulder, opened the door as quietly as you could, and stepped out into the cool night air.

The noodle shop wasn’t far, but with the chill nipping at your cheeks, it felt like forever. When you finally reached the warm glow of the restaurant, the smells of rich broth and freshly steamed dumplings greeted you like an old friend.

Sliding into a seat, you ordered a large bowl of noodles and a plate of dumplings. The first bite was pure heaven—warm, savory, comforting. This wasn’t just food. This was rebellion. A delicious act of defiance against Simon’s overprotectiveness.

You ate quickly, savoring each bite but keeping an eye on the clock. You couldn’t risk being gone too long, or Simon might wake up. When you finished, you wiped your hands, packed your leftovers into your eco bag, and headed home, feeling victorious.

----------

Simon hadn’t stirred when you returned. You slipped into bed, placing the bag under the bed for good measure. His arm instinctively found your waist again, and you smiled to yourself, utterly pleased.

But this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing.

----------

First Catch

It started feeling too easy. You’d mastered the art of sneaking out: the slow, deliberate slide from under Simon’s arm, the silent shuffle to the door, and the perfectly timed return. Your noodle escapades had become a nightly ritual.

But then, one night, your luck ran out.

You were tiptoeing into the kitchen, quietly opening the fridge to stash the leftover dumplings behind the unassuming bag of lettuce Simon would never touch, when a deep voice cut through the silence.

“Late-night fridge rearranging, are we?”

You jumped, spinning around with a gasp. Simon was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his imposing figure illuminated by the dim light of the open fridge.

Your mind scrambled for an excuse. “Uh... just wanted some water.”

“In my hoodie? And with an eco bag?” His eyebrow arched, unimpressed.

You tried to tuck the bag behind you, but Simon’s sharp eyes had already caught the unmistakable sheen of takeout containers poking out from the top. He strode forward, plucked the bag from your hands with an annoyingly effortless tug, and opened it.

The aroma of noodles and dumplings betrayed you instantly.

“Water, huh?” He held up a dumpling with mock seriousness. “This what they’re calling it these days?”

You gulped.

----------

Minutes later, you found yourself seated at the kitchen table like a scolded child. Simon, clad in sweatpants and a scowl, had taken over the stove. The sight of him cooking—rolling up his sleeves with a tired sigh—might’ve been endearing if you weren’t on the receiving end of his disapproval.

“You could’ve woken me,” he grumbled, cracking eggs into a bowl with more force than necessary.

“You were sleeping,” you mumbled.

“I’d rather get up than have you sneakin’ around at night,” he said, his tone gruff. “What if somethin’ happened, eh? You’re waddling about in the dark like a burglar.”

You snorted at the image, which earned you a sharp look.

“Not funny,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ll make the bloody noodles if that’s what you want. Just stop sneakin’ out.”

You stayed silent, chewing on your lower lip. No way were you telling him about the noodle shop.

---------

Close Call

Old habits die hard. A few nights later, you were returning from the noodle shop, quietly slipping into the kitchen to stash your leftovers behind the condiments, when Simon stirred upstairs.

He came padding down the stairs just as you were closing the fridge.

“You were gone,” he murmured groggily, rubbing his face.

“Kitchen,” you lied quickly, holding up an empty glass of water as proof.

He hummed, unconvinced, and squinted at you. “Should’ve woken me.”

“For the kitchen?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“For whatever,” he grunted, his eyes scanning the counter before settling on the fridge. “Don’t like you wanderin’ about on your own.”

You gave him your best innocent smile and shuffled past him toward the stairs. Simon followed a moment later, his suspicion lingering like a shadow.

----------

Growing Suspicion

It started with a nagging feeling Simon couldn’t shake. You were always warm when you came back to bed, slightly out of breath, and he could swear he caught the faintest hint of soy sauce and sesame lingering in the air.

One night, as you slid into bed beside him, he cracked an eye open just enough to catch you pulling off his oversized hoodie. You were trying to be quiet, moving with all the stealth of someone trying not to get caught.

He didn’t say anything. Not yet. But his mind was racing.

The next night, he pretended to be deep asleep as you started your routine. The slow untangling from his grasp, the soft shuffle to grab your hoodie and slippers. He cracked his eye open just as you tiptoed out of the room, eco bag in hand.

Simon lay there for a moment, his jaw tightening. He didn’t believe in jumping to conclusions without evidence—years of military experience had drilled that into him. But this was his wife, and the secrecy was starting to itch.

----------

The Watchful Eye

The next few nights, Simon kept up his act. He watched you go through the same routine: hoodie on, bag in hand, slippers padding softly across the floor. Each time, he waited until you were out of earshot before sitting up and staring at the door.

He debated following you right then and there but decided against it. Instead, he lay back, staring at the ceiling, letting the suspicion simmer.

Until one night, he’d had enough.

----------

Caught in the Act

Simon Riley, a man known for his ability to track an enemy through any terrain in total darkness, cracked one eye open as he heard the faint creak of the bedroom door. His wife, waddling like a stealthy penguin in his oversized hoodie, had escaped once again.

He sat up, running a hand down his face, and muttered, “Bloody hell.” This was the third time this week, and it was starting to feel personal. He reached for his jumper, his movements slow and deliberate.

By the time Simon made it outside, you were already a good distance ahead, waddling down the street with your eco bag swinging by your side. He trailed behind, staying in the shadows like a proper ghost, his breath visible in the chilly night air.

When you entered the noodle shop, he stopped just outside, watching through the window. You were already at a corner table, your face lighting up as the server placed a steaming bowl of noodles in front of you. Then came the dumplings, and your joy was almost palpable.

Simon shook his head, muttering, “Unbelievable,” before pushing the door open. The little bell above the door jingled, but you didn’t notice—too engrossed in your noodles.

He approached silently, stopping just behind you. “Enjoyin’ yourself, are ya?”

You froze mid-slurp, a noodle dangling from your lips. That voice. You’d recognize that deep, gravelly tone anywhere.

Slowly, you turned your head to see Simon standing there, arms crossed and a single brow arched. His expression was equal parts amusement and exasperation.

“I, uh…” You scrambled for an excuse, your voice muffled by the noodle still in your mouth. “Toilet break?”

“Toilet break?” he repeated, pulling out the chair across from you and sitting down. “Love, the loo doesn’t serve dumplings.”

A/N:

Just a heads up—Captain Price’s fiancée in this story is the same lady from Papa Bear Material—Mama Bear! So, if you've read that story, you might recognize her. As for the characters of Y/N, both are technically the same person, so feel free to choose who you identify with!

Y/N’s been caught. And now, Simon’s not having it. And with that, stay tuned for Part 2. Simon’s not letting this go anytime soon…

Edit: Part 2 is here!----->

[finelinevogue]

ethereal

summary - azriel is lucky you are his

word count - ~400 words

• 🌌 • 🌌 • 🌌 • 🌌 • 🌌 • 🌌 • 🌌 • 🌌 • 🌌 • 🌌 •

Azriel watched you walk down the stairs.

Your hand held onto the bannister as you carefully walked yourself down the midnight blue carpet, using your other hand to hold up your dress skirt.

You looked something out of Azriel’s ethereal dreams.

Like something that had accidentally fallen from the sky during Skyfall - like you had a glow that proved you were too good to be walking amongst everyone else.

“Wow. She looks beautiful.” Mor whispered next to him.

Azriel thought you looked more than just beautiful, but he couldn’t think of a good enough word to describe how he felt.

“I’m jealous I didn’t win her over first.” Amren joked, hoping to rile Azriel up a little bit but he was barely listening - his entire focus was on you.

How could it not be?

He felt it would be silly to take his eyes off you for even a second.

Azriel walked closer to the bottom of the stairs to greet you. He watched as you carefully watched where you were stepping, whilst also trying to smile towards Azriel.

He could feel your happiness through the bond.

It was your first ball being a part of the Inner Circle and you’d been preparing for it since last week. You’d gone dress shopping with Feyre last week. Nail painting a few days ago with Mor. All day today with Nesta as she helped you with your hair and makeup.

Azriel felt like all the moments you’d been preparing and spending time away from him were worth it for how he felt for you right now.

He held out his hand for you as you neared the bottom.

“Evening.” You said softly.

Azriel didn’t hear a thing. He was too busy watching your pink painted lips part and move as if you were speaking, but he was too focused to pay attention.

“Definitely.” Azriel said in reply and you chuckled.

“Az, love?” You prompted.

“Mm?”

“Are you okay?” You stepped closer to him and he noticed your breath hitch when you realised he had bathed in the salts you loved the best.

“N-no.” He whispered as you got closer.

“Be calm, brother.” Cassian passed by with Nesta, nudging Azriel on the back as he did.

You smiled as Azriel helped you down all the stairs.

Standing in front of you, hands in yours, you leant up and kissed him gently on the cheek. He closed his eyes as he felt the warm press of your lips on his skin - one of his favourite feelings in the worlds.

“I’ve left a stain.” You giggled when you pulled away, reaching up a hand to wipe it away.

Azriel caught your hand quickly, enjoying the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours. There was nothing more grounding than that.

“Leave it. Please.” He said softly, watching your face beam up at his as he spoke.

“Az, it’s a big pink patch on your cheek! Looks like you’re blushing constantly.”

“That’s already quite believable when you’re standing next to me.” Azriel brought your hand up to kiss the back of it.

“Oh you’re so smooth tonight. Or at least you think you are, love.”

“I’m a mess next to you, Y/N. You make me feel… well… everything all at once and it’s overwhelming in the most amazing way. I crave you at every moment and I love you every second we breathe. I’m lucky that the Mother made me wait for you.”

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡Ｇｏｏｄ Ｆｏｒｍ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!yunho x chubby!fem!reader x best friend!mingi

♡ Genre: smut/a lil dash of fluff

♡ Summary: When you decide to have some late night fun with your boyfriend in the kitchen, the furthest thing from your mind is that your best friend might walk in and see you but when he does you're both more than happy to have him there.

♡ Word Count: 3k-ish

♡ Warnings: Yunho gives dom vibes. Mingi's a bit shy at first. Threesome (the boys don't touch each other though). They have a real thing for your chubby body. They're overall obsessed w/ you truly. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Oral sex (f & m receiving/heavy on the f receiving). Fingering. Multiple orgasms. Nipple play. Tit sucking. Hair pulling. Nibbling. Ass slapping. Overstimulation. Cum swallowing. Cum swapping. Squirting. A lil edging. Clit slapping. I use the word "pussy" cause I'm not a "cunt" gal. Lots of bodily fluids. Pet names (baby, angel)

♡ A/N: I've been writing a lot of really thoughtful, emotional pieces lately and this...is totally not one of them. It has it's moments but really it's 3k words of filth. I'm for sure gonna do a part 2 because I feel like I can do more with this but for now enjoy your hot girl moment, babes. You deserve it.

You'll never grow tired of this sound...

Yunho slurping down your juices, his soft lips pursed around your clit. Every decadent, unpredictable stroke of his tongue makes your thighs tremble. Three long, dexterous fingers pump in and out of your core drowning you in pleasure.

Yunho had sincerely wandered into the kitchen for a midnight snack when he stumbled upon you here. Bent over in the fridge with your deliciously plush ass peeking from the bottom of your red lace panties, you instantly became the only thing his taste buds craved.

You had your hand on an ice cold bottle of water when you felt two strong hands spreading your thighs apart. “Up a little late aren’t you?” he teased, stroking your slit through the barely there material. Your breath hitched, the cool air from the refrigerator the only thing to ease the heat consuming your body. “I couldn’t sleep and I—mmm—I just wanted—ah.”

Yunho tucked your panties to the side, sinking his middle finger into you. You were already so needy and wet, so easily turned on at the slightest bit of attention from him, that he could've never stopped there. “Just wanted what, baby?” he whispered, dropping to his knees, “Tell me what you want.” It tickled when you felt his lips brush against your skin, leading a trail of kisses around the curve of your ass and down your thighs.

“Yunie, I can’t—fuck, I can’t think” you moaned, holding onto one of the shelves to keep your legs from giving out. “Aww, baby” he smiled, slapping your ass hard enough to make it jiggle, “You don’t have to.”

Yunho knows where your sweet spot is. How to rotate his wrist and curl his finger at the perfect angle to make your body surrender to him. He had you wrapped around his finger—clenching—literally. You were dripping by the time he slipped your panties down to drink from you like the sweetest fountain. He made sure you came twice before he lifted you onto the counter and spread your aching legs open to taste you more.

Backed into a corner, one foot up on each side of the counter, you’re completely at his mercy and this is exactly where you want to be. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you stare down at him with those beautifully glossy eyes of yours.

Yunho tilts his head up to meet your gaze, fluffy dark brown hair framing his face, and it’s obvious he’s as blissed out as you are. He suckles at your clit as he pulls back just enough for you to see your sensitive bud twitching in response to him. Without warning he buries his face between your legs, humming with pleasure as he completely devours you.

You throw your head back, stars illuminating your vision. “Yunie, please don’t stop” you beg, fingers tangling in his hair as he wrecks you in the best way. Just when the pressure inside of you reaches its peak, your pussy ready to turn into a waterfall, you notice a figure standing in the doorway.

Mingi? Fuck. You’ve been so swept up in the moment, blinded by lust, that you completely forgot Mingi was staying over tonight.

It’s coming up on 4 years since you met Yunho and Mingi in a cramped club your friend’s band was playing at. The crowd that night was completely out of control. A swirling pit of drunks in desperate need of therapy. Just trying to get to the bathroom was a death wish. Yunho and Mingi didn’t have to step in to protect you but they did and they have ever since.

It never occurred to you to ask why they helped you. You saw it in the way they watched you at the restaurant after, like you were some shiny new toy they had acquired. Only Mingi treated you like a collector’s item, too delicate to take off of the shelf. He thought it better to admire you, imagine what it’d be like to play with you, but could never get the courage to do it.

Yunho, on the other hand, wasted no time taking you out of the box. Everything about you was too alluring for him to deny. His hunger for you then was as intense as it is now and he needed to indulge or he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Mingi hides it well, at least he thinks he does, but he regrets it. He wishes you knew how badly he wants you to be his in every sense of the word. Could you even fathom the things he’d do to trade places with his best friend right now?

Mingi knows that he should turn around—go back to the guest room, pretend nothing ever happened—but he’s too hypnotized by you to do it. “Hi, Mmm-Mingi” you giggle, noticing the thick bulge in his sweatpants. Mingi follows your gaze down to a cock hard enough to split you in two. You smile at him like you’d love to see him try it. You would. “Yunie,” you coo, tapping him on the back of the neck, “We have company.”

Yunho doesn’t register it at first, too intoxicated by your pussy to process anything that comes out of your mouth as coherent language. Mingi’s eyes widen and you can almost hear the gears turning in his head. He’s scared out of his mind and insanely horny, a combination of things he’s never felt before and has no clue what to do with. Yunho’s motions slow as he deprives you of his tongue. His fingers slide out of you, soaked in your arousal.

“Company?” he asks, rising to his feet, lips dripping wet.

You nod, pointing to Mingi, “I think we woke him up.”

Yunho lets out a low, playful chuckle, turning only halfway to greet his best friend. “Fuck,” Mingi mumbles, frantically scanning the kitchen for something else to look at. “I wasn’t looking! I swear! I came to grab my…” Spotting the spice rack beside him, he blindly grabs the first thing he sees. “Chili pepper flakes? Yeah, they’re so good for a late night snack, you know?”

Unconvinced but amused by his attempt, Yunho turns back to face you. He lures you into a kiss, sharing with you the delightfulness of your taste. He rests the back of his hand against your core, knuckles grazing your clit just enough to keep you on edge. “Can I share?” he asks between the feverish clashing of your tongues. “Mmmhmm” you gasp, your back arching at the return of his touch. Yunho shakes his head, hands riding your curves up to where your nipples poke through your shirt.

He takes your supple breast into his hand, massaging it as he rolls your nipple between his fingertips. “Baby, that won’t do. I need to hear you say it this time. Tell me what you want.” You tilt your head to the side, taking in the tall, handsome blonde watching you. “You can share me, Yunie” you whisper, breath tickling the side of his neck, “I want it.” He pinches your nipple, locking his other arm around your waist, “Aah, good girl. That wasn’t so hard was it? Now hold onto me.”

You do as you’re told and cling to him in time to be lifted from the smooth marble counter. Yunho kisses you once more as he spins you around. A dizzying transition that ends in you draped across the kitchen table. “Are you joining or are you just gonna watch?” Yunho asks Mingi, too distracted with the cute squishy belly poking from the bottom your shirt to actually face him.

Mingi can hear his heart thumping its way out of his chest. He has to be hearing things. “Oh, I—you can’t be—are you s…” he stutters, squeezing the life out of that poor bottle of chili pepper flakes. Yunho nibbles at your exposed belly before turning to confront the confusion on Mingi’s face, “Serious? Yes. I’m serious. I know you’ve always wanted her so…come get her.”

Mingi hesitates, still unsure if it’s a trick or not. The chance that Yunho will murder him if he actually tries seems higher than this not being a fever dream. Shifting to get more comfortable on the table, you hold your hand out to Mingi, your body calling to him like a siren beckons sailors to their doom. It’s enough to make him drop everything, to abandon all these years of pretending.

Mingi carefully makes his way over to you, taking your hand in his. You’re beautiful at any angle but there’s something about this one—you staring up at him from the filthiest position with the most innocent eyes—that really gets him.

It’s the perfect angle for you too, one your boyfriend knows you’ve fantasized about. These two broad shouldered angels looming over you, bathing you in their admiration. “Kiss me” you whisper, palming Mingi’s cock through his thick sweatpants. Mingi grunts at the euphoric release of tension as his lips latch onto yours, his kiss ravenous and sloppy. His platinum hair falls into your face, immersing you in the crisp floral scent of his shampoo.

Yunho watches as Mingi snatches your shirt up, taking his time to enjoy how your tits bounce when they pop free. Pushing your legs back, Yunho drags his fingers between your lips to pull back the hood of your clit. He flicks his thumb up and down, smiling as you arch and wiggle beneath him. Mingi sneaks a glimpse down at Yunho, breaking the kiss to hear your moans. For the first time he doesn’t have to listen through the walls, you’re making all those sinful noises right before his eyes and it’s glorious to behold.

“You’re so cute” Mingi says, cupping your fluffy cheeks. “You—ah—think so?” you ask, tucking a finger into the waist of his sweatpants. You slip your hand inside, taking as much of him into your hand as you can. Mingi pulls them down for you and you audibly gasp at the gorgeous cock that springs free. You glide up and down, circling the head with your thumb. Mingi cups one of your breasts, kneading the plush flesh as drags his tongue down to your nipple. “Mmhmm” he hums, stuffing his mouth full of you, “So fucking cute.” 

You lay there breathless—trying to talk your trembling body down from your next orgasm—when you feel the throbbing head of Yunho’s cock rub up and down your entrance. “You ready for me, baby?” he asks, raising your legs up to balance your ankles on his shoulders. When he does it presses him into you a little bit further and you cry out, raising your hips for more. “Mmm—ready for you Yunie.” Yunho snaps his hips, bottoming out in one thrust that sends electricity dancing through your body.

A soft tug brings Mingi in close enough that you can turn and lick the precum leaking from the tip of his cock. “Fuck, that feels so good” he moans, rising to push deeper into your throat. Your tongue curls on the underside of his cock, the textured roof of your mouth dragging along it as he fucks your throat.

This is what they’ve wanted since the night you met. What you’ve wanted too. It’s so satisfying, like scratching an itch you never could quite reach, to let them take you together. Their hands glide across your velvet smooth skin, exploring every inch of you. They’re so careful with you, matching paces to keep you comfortable. All you have to do is lay here and let them take care of you—let them worship you.

Yunho caresses your legs, fingers digging into your hips, “I feel you clenching, baby. You close?” You know he expects an answer even if you’re currently drooling around Mingi’s cock. You give him a muffled, “Yes.” But that’s not nearly enough for either of them. Mingi grabs you by the hair, pulling out to leave your mouth painfully empty. “Your voice is too pretty not to hear” he says, stroking your lips, “You ready to come for us, baby? Gonna let me see how good you look coming on your boyfriend’s cock?”

“Yes, Mingi. I’m gonna c—oh my—ah…” you whimper only for Mingi to shove himself back inside of you before you can finish speaking. Not that you’re complaining. The men exchange a brief glance, returning their attention to you with something new in mind. They move faster and harsher, struggling as much as you do to keep it together. They could both come right now from the way you pulsate your walls around Yunho or the way your throat muscles flutter around Mingi. But there’s no question that it has to be you first. 

Your eyelids grow heavy, the pressure bursting inside of you, and suddenly gravity doesn’t exist anymore. Mingi holds your hand and Yunho rubs your belly as you squirt down his length. Yunho licks his lips at the mess you've made of his pants, the wet spot growing the more you bounce down onto him. “That’s it, baby. Use my fucking cock, angel.” He lays his hand flat on your clit and slaps it just enough for you to feel the sharpness of the contact.

It makes you clench even tighter—the tightest he’s ever felt you—and he can’t take it anymore. He spills into you, filling you so far beyond your limit that your pussy’s gushing it back out at him before he’s even empty. Mingi plays with your nipples, pinching one and then the other, switching every time you get too used to the feeling.

Your mouth falls open, your overstimulated body beginning to go limp. You keep it open, tongue hanging out to welcome the thick ropes of come Mingi empties into your mouth. It collects in the back of your throat making your moans sound like tiny gurgles. What’s left leaks from the corners of your mouth and Mingi kisses you quickly, swapping the warm, salty liquid back and forth between the two of you until it’s nothing.

You stay entangled with them for an amount of time you can’t really grasp, coming down together. The room slips into silence. The only sound you hear is the symphony of heavy, uneven breaths. You look around at each other, the reality of what you’ve just done setting in. No one regrets it, you’d all be up for it again if one of you had it in you to ask, but it’s hard to know what to say.

You love each other more than anything. What you share is so special that you’ve all done everything to keep from fucking it up. To think that this might be what does. That the next thing to come out of your mouth could destroy it all. It’s terrifying.

Yunho clears his throat, stretching your legs for you so you don’t cramp up. “Can I get you anything? A snack?” You poke your bottom lip out, contemplating your snack options, “Uh, nah. I’m okay.” Noticing your throat sounds a little dry, Mingi grabs a bottle of water from the fridge—the very one you had your hand on earlier—and brings it to you. He twists the cap off and raises it to your lips, “You need to hydrate. I’m not asking.”

“Ooh, when’d you get so bossy?” you ask, taking a sip of water, “I like it.” Mingi takes a sip for himself before passing it to Yunho who chugs down the rest. “Shower?” Yunho says, swishing some water around in his cheeks. To you and Mingi it sounds like “swishwer”. Mingi squints his eyes at him, “Swishwer?” “I think he means ‘shower’” you whisper, trying to channel enough energy to sit yourself up. Yunho nods, swallowing the last few drops. “Yes! That! Shower. I’ll go run the water and you…” He points to Mingi and then to you, “Grab her and be careful. She’s expensive.”

Yunho walks off to the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. You finally manage to sit up and swing around to face Mingi. He puts his arms around you, kissing the bridge of your nose, “Don’t worry about holding on but just…don’t scream.”

“Don’t scream? Wh—”

Mingi throws you over his shoulder and you do in fact scream. “What are you doing to my girlfriend?” Yunho shouts from the bathroom, flipping the shower on. Mingi carries you down the hall, your feet kicking as you giggle. “She’s fiiiine” he sighs, rolling his eyes, “It’s not like I’m gonna drop her.” Stepping into the bathroom Mingi pretends to trip for the fun of it.

“Put me down you psycho!” you whine, your life flashing before your eyes.

Mingi pouts, nuzzling his cheek up to your side, “I wasn’t really gonna drop you. So mean.” He lowers you down, letting you hold onto his arm while you gain your footing. You go to take your shirt off, it’s barely on, but the room still feels like it’s spinning.

“I got it, baby. Come here.” Yunho pulls you over to him and helps you out of your shirt. In return you help him out of his pants, tossing them off to the side. Yunho hops into the shower and you’re back at Mingi’s side, pushing his shirt up over his head. You never break eye contact once, committing every detail of each other’s naked bodies to memory.

You lead him into the shower and find yourself happily positioned between the two of them beneath the warm running water. Yunho cuddles you from the front and Mingi holds you from behind. The three of you fit together perfectly, like you were always meant to be like this.

Eventually you’ll have to say something. You’ll have to have an honest conversation about where things go from here. But for tonight you’ll stay in this moment together, letting your hearts revel in feelings your lips may never speak of again.

[kissitbttr]

pregnancy was never easy. if it was, fathers could do it.

and truly it was something that toji had learned throughout being married to you and seeing your belly swell with your baby girl. the constant mood swings, back pains, cravings and all. but toji is a wonderful husband. for that, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

anything you want, you get even if your midnight cravings hit. toji will still get up and get dressed before drive to the nearest store that has your favorite red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.

but being pregnant also means that toji has gotten far more protective than usual. more staying by your side, more checking up on you through his phone, more hiring security cameras and guards to keep you safe. despite your protests, he still thinks it’s necessary.

“sweethea—what the heck?” toji grumbles, eyes almost popping out of his sockets to see you’re not beside him. eyes glancing left and right and that’s where the panic begins to seep into him. “fuck” he scrambles out of the bed, seeing the clock hits at two am,

“no, no, no—“ he feels bead of sweats racing on his temples before slipping on his shoes and a shirt over his head. thinking that something might have happened to you.

god, i can’t go through this. not again. not you. please, please, not you.

toji may not have been the most religious man that has ever walked on earth. but he will beg on his knees and plead to the man up above to never take you away from him,

and just as he about to grab a gun off his safe, he hears the refrigerator door shut downstairs. the sounds making him halt as he quick to whip his head to the source of it.

his eyebrows then furrowed, putting the weapon down carefully before stepping out of your shared room. sometimes he curses himself for buying a home far too big because now he feels like it’s an eternity coming down the stairs. but again, he bought it for you.

the living room lights are already turned off, the only dimmed light he could see is from the kitchen. not only that, but he could hear the metals clinking. so slowly, with ever so confusion written across his face, toji approaches slowly

and there you are ever in your glory, body draped in your favorite pink silky robe sitting on the floor with your back against the fridge. a plate of not one but two red velvet cake slice in your hand as the other forks your way through the delicious treat.

toji heaves out a breathe of relief, knowing that nothing had happened to you. and the noise is loud enough for you to stop chewing and look up. eyes widen at your husband’s figure standing only a few feet away,

“hi” your voice sounds small. almost like embarrassed because you feel like a kid who got caught stealing a cookie off the jar,

“sweetheart” the nickname falls from his mouth like he’s happy to see you after being a part for so long. “what are you doing?”

your mouth slowly begin to chew, a cute smile making its way as your eyes glinting with innocence that toji can’t deny but feel like he’s falling in love with you all over again.

“the baby is hungry” is the only thing you can muster to a response, like it’s an obvious thing. “she wants cake” you giggle quietly,

oh yes, he is definitely falling harder for you again

“the baby is—“ he sighs, hands coming up to rub his face up and down. not because he’s upset but rather amused. “she wanted red velvet cake?”

“mhmm!” you nod vigorously, taking another big bite of the dessert. “and cream cheese frosting!”

and for the first time in a while, toji laughs with his head shaking at the sight of his beautiful wife eating cake at two am. “she told you that?”

“yes! i heard her whisper to me before i go to bed ‘mama.. can we eat the cake? but wait until dada goes to sleep’ because she knows how dada doesn’t allow mama to eat cakes” you smile at him, doing your best of baby voice. licking the cream off the utensil,

toji is grinning so hard he feels like his cheeks are hurting, his eyes are full of love when he looks at you and the little girl you’re growing in there,

“well dada is just taking care of mama so she will be healthy. she needs veggies and whole foods” he takes another step closer, sliding next to you. his eyes never leaving yours, looking at you so lovingly by the way you eat. “i thought something happened to you.. i was panicking”

you pout, not wanting to cause anymore distress on him. “i’m sorry i shouldn’t have done that. but i couldn’t wake you up, you looked exhausted”

he frowns, bending his knees close to his chest. “you should’ve. i would gladly grab the cake for you hence you asked, baby” he leans forward and kiss your temple,

a grateful smile places on your lips, humming in a contentment at the feeling of his soft mouth on your skin. “hmm, i know—“ you cradle his cheek with your free palm, thumbing against his cheekbone and down to his scar.

he used to be so insecure about it until you made him not to be. giving so much praises and kisses about the scar that you think look so hot on him.

“want some?” you extend a spoonful of the cake towards his mouth, in which he opens almost immediately, biting onto the sweet goodness. “how lucky i am to have you, mr. y/l/n”

he laughs, wiping the walnut crumbs off the corner of his lips. “i should be the one saying that to you, doll”

maybe second chances do exist. and it’s a privilege for a person to earn one. toji may had done very questionable things in the past that would make a person think twice in befriending him, let alone married to him but change is real.

and the flaws are what makes it him. it’s one of the reason you are drawn to this beautiful man. because despite every negative seed he may have in him, he still tries. trying and trying to be the person you deserve and the father that your baby girl deserve.

it upsets you to no end knowing that everyone can’t see that. they just see him as a cold, reserved, selfish man who keeps himself closed from the world to see. they don’t see the tears he had shed almost every night for failing to be perfect, they don’t see him having a small banter with you because he wanted to take your last name, they don’t see the amount of times he locked himself in his room because of people talkinh, they don’t see him always rushing out of his office on fridays because he wants to get home before you do just so he can cook your favorite dish,

they don’t see all of that but toji doesn’t care. he doesn’t need their validation nor approval. he just needs yours.

because it’s you he always comes home to. you are his salvation. you are his peace. you are his dream came true.

you, you, you, you.

before you could protest, he presses his lips against yours and move his hand down to your bump,

“happy doesn’t even begin to describe how grateful i am to be your husband”

[bobluvbot]

late night cravings

pairing: sirius black x afab!reader summary: you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it)  wc: 4k cw: pregnancy & baby talk, descriptions of food and eating, brief allusions to sex (not directly stated), no physical traits of reader specified but sirius can hold things out of reader’s reach  a/n: so i had a lengthy angst fic for sirius’s debut on my blog and im halfway done on it but i cant seem to finish it bc it sends me to a depressing spiral each time <33333 so pls enjoy a very self-indulgent domestic excessively fluffy blurb with my beloved <33333 p.s this is not proofread so plz ignore mistakes ty <3

opening the tomato salsa jar turned out to be the hardest part. 

back in bed, you thought the trickiest part of your late night escapade from sirius black was his long limbs wound up tight with yours, even in low light of the small nightlight in the corner, you could still make out the intricate script and designs following the curves and dips of his strong arms, holding you close to his chest. 

you had it committed to memory by now, having explored sirius’s body well enough to memorize the way his skin feels against yours, with heartbeats and breaths falling in sync without much effort. 

judging by the way his breathing gets heavy after every exhale and the little snores that escape in between, you knew he was beyond knackered. it was day five of sirius’s new job as an deputy director at the auror office. the day he learned about the promotion was pure unadulterated happiness. after letting you know through an express owl, you mustered up enough vigor available to your seven months pregnant self to get out of the house and go to the local shops to get party supplies and food to celebrate sirius’s achievement. 

Coming in third out of the list of things he genuinely loved in this life, after you and his luscious locks of course, was his job as an auror. young sirius had never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d work at the ministry, much less actually enjoy it. can’t really blame sixteen year old sirius, starting an underground rock band with the marauders seemed like the perfect thing to do after gruelling hours of studying at hogwarts. 

defense against the dark arts came to him naturally, with some counterspells like second nature to him as being exposed with use of dark magic young gave him no choice but to grow up quickly and defend himself from the excruciating pain or the mind control that was from his own family’s doing. Winning the first wizarding war alongside his friends and found family has solidified sirius’s calling in eradicating the use of dark magic and making sure the next generation can have a safe and normal life without the looming threat of a megalomaniac sorting people with their blood status and taking over the wizarding world. 

that night, sirius walked into a dark and eerily quiet home that had his senses on overdrive. but when the lights turned on and he saw familiar faces of his loved ones all beaming with pride, and there you were in the center, looking ethereal and round and all his, with his favorite red velvet cake on hand and a ridiculously big balloon that says “congratulations” tied to the candle, he could have melted in a syrupy mess of gooey happiness right then and there if he hadn’t caught himself together last minute.

Sirius had thought– that after you agreeing to go on one date with him to hogsmeade, winning the quidditch cup and seeing the proud look on minerva’s face, going home for christmas break and euphemia welcoming him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, remus teaching at the very same classroom you all were in years back, james and lily’s first kiss at the altar, holding little baby harry in his arms, you walking down the aisle with a bouquet of peonies in the most beautiful dress, and when you held his hand that one night and told him that you were expecting—- that he knew of love. but you do something extraordinary that has him scrambling to add to the endless list of why you’re the love of his life. he was so focused on you that he wasn’t prepared to catch pure muscle of james’s body as he flung himself to tackle his best friend in a hug. luckily, remus with a party hat was aptly standing between a toppling sirius and the living room wall, and he singlehandedly saved the two from creating a huge hole in the drywall. 

this was the life, sirius had thought after many hours of partying celebrating and eating, when he laid beside you in bed, limbs tangled, sated and dizzy and warm as you both came down from your highs. and he gets to spend it with you.

but as fun and exciting sirius’s new job is, it entailed an increased amount of responsibility as he was assisting the head auror. his least favorite part of the job was the boatloads of paperwork he has to deal with. An express owl almost dropped a howler letter into the soup you were making for dinner earlier that day and you opened it up panicking thinking it was an emergency. But no, it was just sirius whining that his hand hurt and is about to fall off and that he needs you to kiss it better. 

You did eventually, and one thing led to another and here you were, tucked in your husband’s warm embrace. you could stay here forever, only separating to drink water and bathroom trips, but the gnawing urge to eat something savory, sweet, tangy, and crunchy has possessed your entire being, the only way to quell it was to get up and go to the kitchen. the baby doesn’t seem to have a semblance of time yet, a fact you both envied and despised, because the clock on your nightstand said it was 3:48am in bold red numbers. A few months ago, you’d never be caught dead awake at this time, taking your precious sleep time seriously. The man himself would poke fun at you and say you’d gladly sleep through an earthquake or a housefire just as long as you get your seven to eight hours of sleep per day, and despite of your assumed role of contradicting and arguing with spontaneous and stubborn sirius, you had to agree.

But this was not about you anymore, or at least not quite yet for a good seventeen years, so you untangle yourself from sirius and your perfectly warm and cool side of the bed and waddle down the carpeted stairs, careful not to set foot on the creaky step that might risk waking sirius up. You need your secrets too, and you’re not in the mood to share food.

Grateful for the heavens that you and sirius stocked up on groceries two days ago, you had a wide selection of random items to munch on. A few days ago, you were introduced to the idea of a fluffernutter sandwich while scrolling through the short videos on your feed. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff as spreads on their own was something you didn’t mind eating, but both together in a sandwich? You were enthralled, and the only way to quell the curiosity was to make it. So you did. 

You shovel and slather more than enough spread on each slice of bread, though you might have used the same spoon on both jars.. but who’s to tell you off otherwise, your snoozing husband upstairs? pfft. 

Smiling happily as if committing a particularly naughty crime, you place the spoon in your mouth, licking off the gooey mixture as you place the sandwich on a piece of paper towel (yes, you take the no dishwashing tonight seriously) on the table. humming, you mull over what to prepare next.

The baby needs something savory and tangy, but you’re not particularly keen on going through all the effort of heating up the soup from dinner, not to mention the amount of cutlery and dishes you’ll use for that, so you zero in on the tostada shells you chose rather than tortilla chips because its much more crispier. 

Opening the fridge, you see the laughing cow on a round packaging and decide its the one, so you grab two cheese wedges from it. 

Sirius had argued that the next aisle had actual, real blocks of cheese with a variety on display and that there was no point in getting artificially flavored ones. But you’ve gotten really good at giving him the stank face, which inadvertently ends 75 percent of nonsense bickering before it even starts; and since you’ve started showing more and more, sirius has admittedly gone softer on you, not that he was ever more but a pushover your entire relationship. Merely widening of eyes and a jut of your lower lip, even adding a slight tremble or two during times where you did actually fuck up, sirius can’t hold his stance longer than a minute before sighing and taking you in his arms. he might call you out for being a brat at times, but there’s no denying he loves it. And so the artificial wheel of cheese wedges got purchased and bagged home, and you’re meticulously spreading it over the golden shells, leaving little to no gaps of it bare. 

Laying it on another paper towel, your heart gets giddy on your chest knowing you’re in for a treat tonight. But not quite time to start munching, the baby reminds you that you still need something tangy to complete the meal. So comes your big predicament, should you get dill pickles or tomato salsa? 

It took you ten seconds too long of weighing down the pros-and-cons of choosing one and feeling like you made the wrong choice if you end up not liking it. It doesn’t help that the pregnancy hormones make you more anxious and tend to put you always on the verge of tears. So when the not-so-groundbreaking idea of just eating them both hits you, you feel the weight slide off your shoulders as you sigh. Because again, who’s gonna tell you that eating pickles this late at night can give you bad acid reflux, your snoozing husband? Pfft.

Snacking on some, you do manage to pick out the juiciest looking pickle chips and lay them atop of your tostadas. You and the little one are beyond excited to dive in. It’s looking like a mini upside-down pizza with the cheese spread first then the pickle as toppings. Only thing left now was the the tomato salsa slathered on top to seal the deal. 

Opening tight lids wasn’t an issue for you before, in fact, you took pride when friends hand you a jar or bottle to open because you could do it in a breeze. Chances were, the lid wasn’t even screwed on that tight, you were just built different, you’d say with a shrug once you give the items back. So when the tomato jar doesn’t budge after two attempts, you get puzzled.

Maybe your hands were slippery? You wipe them down with a tea towel and try again. No.

You weren’t holding it tight enough? Fingers held taut against the lid, you try three times. Still no.

Determined, you try different positions before letting the jar go, shooting it glares as if it’d get intimidated and just open up for you. You were also getting lightheaded, and passing out on the kitchen floor due to excessive stimulation of your vagal reflex because you were too stubborn to use magic or wake your husband up to open it for you doesn’t seem like the best way to spend the early Tuesday morning hours.

Magic was even out of the option (well, in your brain it was), because your wand’s tucked beside sirius’s on your nightstand, and frankly, you don’t have the patience to drag yourself upstairs just to flick a utility spell to open the wretched thing. So you do the next best option: lose hope. 

The disappointment was mutual between you and your baby. And the acid reflux did start to kick in, making your stomach grumble in both hunger and pain. This was all going so well until it isn’t, tears began to make its way up to your eyes.

“See, this is what you get for being greedy and eating all snacks by yourself,” sirius huffs behind you, deep voice still raspy with sleep. You didn’t even hear him getting out of bed and coming down the stairs, that’s how preoccupied you were with opening the jar.

He grabs the container away from you to open it, but not without throwing a scowl at your direction, handsome face contorted with furrowed eyebrows and downturned mouth, enough to express that he felt betrayed by this whole ordeal. If you were in a better mood, you’d poke his sides and tackle him playfully, teasing him for being sulky. But for now, you need the jar opened so you could eat in peace. You’ll deal with the sharing food issue later.

“t wasn’t supposed to take long,” you mumble, caught off guard and refusing to make eye contact, pretending the fridge magnets beside sirius’s head is ten times more interesting than his face. You don’t miss his raised eyebrow and snort at your response. 

The second attempt comes and he opens it with a satisfying pop. your mouth falls agape, eyeing the *now accessible* tomato salsa dip in disbelief. What the hell? 

And you couldn’t even take the smug grin spreading across sirius’s face by the millisecond. Refuse to. You try to snatch the open container away from him but he holds it higher and out of reach, making a show of puffing his chest, flexing his biceps, even giving it a kiss. This is all James’s doing, you need to have a talk with Lily soon about keeping these two separated.

“Sirius!” you try to plead your way out. the trademark innocent, pouty expression settles on your face like a second mask, hoping he’d go down this easy. 

It doesn’t work. He just chuckles, mocking your pleas and face while his free hand sneaks up and pinches your unsuspecting cheek to tease you further.

You yelp in mock outrage and swat his hand away, trying your best to keep your displeasure firm on your face, but you feel the giggles coming up. “This is why I sneak out alone to eat, you’re such a bully,” you huff, but take a seat in front of your makeshift spread. 

Sirius places the jar near you, but not without poking your exposed sides, armed with the knowledge that the easiest way to get you laughing (and eventually conceding in an argument) is knowing where your tickle zones are. “Oh yeah,” he drawls, plopping himself beside you. “That’s also why you’re the only one waking up with an upset stomach, stinking up our bathroom so early in the morning.”

Now this one got you appalled, embarrassed, disturbed, basically hit with all the feelings. You’ve been living together long before you got married, and he never brought up this issue until today. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He makes a move to snatch the sandwich away but the embarrassment on your cheeks made you more agile, swatting his hand away and shielding the sandwich with your hands. “After I finish my meal,” you continue, shooting him a glare.

But see, one of the things that drove you nuts even way back at Hogwarts, was how Sirius Black mostly managed to outsmart you or be one step ahead of you in everything. After you turned him down without much thought whatsoever despite his grand declaration of interest, Sirius took it upon himself to show you (1) that you made a mistake for rejecting him, (2) that his ego won’t let you embarrass him like that again, (3) and that you won’t get rid of him that easily. Once he set his eyes on you, you were face to face with him in everything: grades, OWLs/NEWTs scores, Quidditch plays and bets, wins at the duelling club, even with the fucking gobstones tournament. He never let you catch a break.

Things were surely different now, since you vowed to be with him in sickness and health and untill death parts you both– hell, you’re carrying his child. So you figured maybe, maybe, he’ll let you catch a break this time. Let you eat in peace as you mull over his bathroom comment and how you’re going to get him back. 

But again, no. Unlike you, Sirius remembered to grab his wand from the nightstand. Not even batting an eye, he says nonchalantly, “Accio sandwich.” And the fluffernutter you protected with all your physical might managed to escape your watch, and land gracefully on his waiting palm. 

What irritated you more from this whole ordeal? The prodigal auror that climbed his way up the ranks and became the youngest deputy director, fully capable of complex spells and wielding different kinds of magic, felt the need to do a verbal Accio spell just to make a point to you.

Out of words, you just stare at him blankly. Too stunned to even cry in frustration because you knew you made a conscious, willing choice to be with this man. 

Maybe your best guilt-tripping expression comes best when you’re not trying. Color drains from his face when you remained silent and he scrambles to take a bite off the sandwich before handing it back to you, or rather placing it on your limp hand as you refuse to acknowledge it, still too hurt to budge. “‘m sorry, baby. Just wanted to eat with you since we didn’t get to earlier.”

He did arrive later than usual, deciding to finish the stack of case files and paperwork so he won’t have to sift through them again the next day. There were plans to wait for him before eating, but when the jitteriness and slightly nausea started to kick in, you had no choice in the matter. Sirius had been sulky and clingy the moment he got home, and as compromise, you stayed to watch him eat; listening and reacting animatedly as he ranted about his stressful day.

So you cut him off some slack, also exhausted from all the emotional stimulation sirius brought since he woke up. As a silent peace offering (also because you’re not ready to say sorry to his face), you slide the tostadas within his reach and finally take your bite of the goddamn sandwich. It was good, tasted as expected, sweet peanut butter. You’d probably have it again as a drunk at 3am meal.

Sirius also went and got snacks of his own: microwaved popcorn, pickles, toasted bread slathered with butter, and grapes. Together, you munched on the little spread of random food you could find in your kitchen at 4am in comfortable silence, which is surprising after the earlier bickering. No matter how cheesy it sounded in your head, sirius was the only person that can drive you to the brink of insanity and right back. You were in for a hell of a ride for the foreseeable future; and while there’s a lot of uncertainty right now and changes to be made when the little one gets here, you’re beyond happy that you get to do all this with him. 

Sleep was beginning to creep up on you. Of course he notices this right when you do, so a warm arm wrapped across your back urges you to settle on his lap, bodies melding into the familiar crevices like puzzle pieces, though you both had to adjust certain angles to accommodate your growing belly. You sit like this for a while; your head tucked securely in the crook of his neck, steady breaths lulling you to sleep, while sirius’s hands instinctively finds its way under your sleep shirt and on the natural curve of your belly, lithe fingers stroking and drawing soothing circles anywhere he could reach. 

you wish you could stay like this forever– cozy and soft and safe– but alas, you were carrying sirius black’s offspring. the baby decides to reward you with a round of kicks, probably giddy after feeling their father’s touch. Sirius chuckles and coos at your bump, while a muffled groan leaves your lips from the sudden onslaught of movement, but still refusing to move from this comfortable position.

Smooth cold lips touch the side of your forehead and you relish in the feeling. “Does it ever hurt, love? All that kicking and wiggling?” 

“Not really,” a content sigh leaves your lips. “Feels strange at times, seeing your belly move on its own.” 

To prove your point, two tiny bulges make a split second appearance just above where Sirius’s hand lay. His thumb soothes the area lovingly.

“Definitely getting stronger though; Lily told me during the later months, harry for some reason loved to kick downwards, making bathroom trips more frequent than it already is. Not excited for that.”

He presses kisses on your forehead, temple, hairline, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Things that you do and endure for this ‘lil troublemaker,” sirius murmurs. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, you could feel his body reverberating with awe and fondness. You try to bask in it for as long as you could, but a passing thought makes its presence known to you again.

“Do i really make the bathroom stink?” it comes out whinier than you intended it to be but you just had to know for peace of mind. 

Sirius’s whole frame vibrates as he tries to stifle his laughter, taking you with him. He’s laughing at your expense but you feel your own giggles brewing in your belly. You try to hold it in for longer, preserving some self respect. “A little bit,” he says solemnly. You groan, earlier mortified feeling returning in full swing. It triggers another round of chuckles.

“But dove, it’s nothing that my deep love and adoration for my lovely strong hot and sexy wife can’t handle.” He says assuredly, and you curse yourself for being so down bad for this man as blood rushes to your cheeks from his words. Good thing it’s dim and your face is still tucked in the crook of his neck. 

You do pinch his arm in response, and both your laughters compliment the comfortable silence. 

“Although,” he says after a while. “The betrayal of you eating without me still hurts.” 

“Siri.. i’m sorry,” you mumble. “‘y looked so tired, Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

He tuts and doesn’t say much after that. In sirius dictionary, this means he just wants some affection from you— for you to dote on him and coax out his forgiveness, even if you both know he’s not really mad; judging by his arms still wrapped securely around your frame and steady breaths that tickle and fan on your bare skin. 

So you mimic his actions from earlier, planting tiny kisses on his neck, collarbones, jawline, anywhere your lips could reach. Kissing his cheek seem to do the trick, his fake scowl quickly coming undone as a bashful smile breaks through the frown, and his tiny dimple you love so much making an appearance. The muggle maternity books did say dimples are genetic, so an image of a little Sirius running around and smiling up at you with those dimpled cheeks is a warming thought. 

“I am charming all the lids to be stuck at night as soon as i wake up tomorrow for work.” You poke a sensitive spot on his side, making him jolt, but you couldn’t resist laughter as it bubbles out of the surface. “You’re insufferable, I can’t believe I married a psychopath.”

“And you let him knock you up too. I’d say it takes one to know one, hm?” 

[latenightdaydreams]

Jason/Masked Killer!Konig who’s been watching camp counselor reader tend to the kids. She’s so motherly and perfect, and all he wants is her with her stomach swelled up. So he takes what he wants (reader dont mind cause she a freak). Anyways, He’s seen the way her fingers reach deep and deep but never hit that spot when she’s in her private bunk.

JasonAU!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 2

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, stalking, mommy issues, breast milk, p in v, breeding kink, voyeurism

1.1k word count

🏕️

.

.

There is something about you that is different from all of the other camp counselors he’s come in contact with over the years. You have a certain light that emanates from your eyes and the way you smile. The children all flock to you and feel secure when you’re near, like a natural mother figure. It’s something König himself has always craved.

Typically, the camp counselors are hyper sexual and negligent; drinking and smoking while having unprotected sex. Yet here you are in your bunk, a little after midnight watching a video on your phone. You have the blankets kicked off because it is so hot. Your legs are spread open, revealing you aren’t wearing any underwear underneath your nightgown.

You have dainty little fingers that you do desperately slip in and out, but you never cum. König watches with his cock out in his hands, vigorously, stroking his cock as he watches you. It’s sad to watch how… unfulfilled you look when he knows he can give you everything you need.

König is up early the next morning, waiting on you. You are always the first one up and the only one cooking breakfast. The thought of you in a home with him, cooking for him and your large family drives him wild. He closes his eyes and listens to your soft little hums, letting his mind run wild with the thought.

He envisions you in a tight house dress with a big belly and milk stains from your leaking breasts. You serve him his breakfast and sit on his lap, cutting up his food for him and feeding him. When he’s thirsty he pulls down the front of your dress, suckling in your breast and drinking from you.

The sound of other voices snaps him from his thoughts. Other counselors have woken up so he backs off, keeping a close eye on you throughout the day. Tonight is the night; he can’t wait any longer for you.

 As the sun sets over the lake you walk into the kitchen to gather items for smores. You hum the same tune as earlier as the sound of children and counselors enjoying themselves in the water is in the background. König slowly stalks behind you with steady steps to not cause the old wooden floors to creak.

You stop humming and the small break causes you to hear a light thump of someone’s footstep. Assuming that it is just one of the other workers, you ignore the footsteps and continue to hum. As you lean forward to reach the box of graham crackers on the top shelf, an arm wraps around your waist. The box goes flying into the air as you react with shock. A scream leaves your lips but is quickly muffled by his large hand covering your mouth.

König effortlessly lifts you into the air and walks you across the way to your cabin. His shoulder slams the door open. He then tosses you onto your bed, watching as you scramble and turn to look at him. A mask covering his face, only his piercing blue eyes visible. His body is muscular, towering over your smaller frame.

“Please don’t kill me.” Your voice trembles with fear.

“You’re mine.” König growls.

König turns to shut the door before marching over to you on the bed, grabbing you by your hair and yanking you down to the bed. His eyes meet yours, there is a fearful look, but also something else. He tilts his head, studying you for a moment. With his free hand he lifts up your shirt and looks down at your soft looking flesh.

His eyes dart back up to yours as he slowly releases your hair, making sure you wouldn’t try to run. You don’t move, instead you watch him closely as he pulls up more of your shirt to expose your bra. He wastes no time in pulling down your bra to expose yourself to him.

There is a sparkle in his eyes as he’s finally seeing your breasts. He lifts his mask slightly to expose his badly scarred lips. His tongue comes out and lightly flicks back and forth over your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

It’s just like in his imagination, except there is no sweet milk filling his mouth- yet. His cock twitches in his pants and leaks precum from the excitement of having you like this. He looks up at you to see you watching him while he enjoys himself, biting your lower lip as you hold back your small moans.

Your eyes follow him as he sits up, he grabs the waistband of your pants and pulls them down. The soft fabric of your cotton panties came into view, driving him insane. Between your legs is a small wet spot forming on the light-colored fabric. Instantly his eyes dart up to yours; you’re actually enjoying this.

König wastes no time in pulling them off, exposing the sweet little pussy that he’s been watching you rub for the last two weeks. His fingers finally get to graze across the soft texture of your public hair before letting his fingers caress your wet folds. A low groan leaves him as he feels how wet he made you. All of this for him.

“I’m going to fuck until you’re full with my seed.” He whispers to you as he pulls down his pants to let his cock spring free.

You say nothing, simply nod your head in submission. Internally, you’re dying to be a mother… to be fucked. His hand wraps around one leg, allowing himself more room between them. He rubs his cock up and down between your folds to cover himself if your sweet creamy cunt; pressing against your clit with each swipe making your legs tremble.

With a small push forward, the tip of his cock slips into your tiny little cunt. Your eyes widen as he slowly leans his weight on to you, sinking himself deeper. A loud pathetic moan comes from König. His hips pull back and he slams himself into your again with more force. He watches as your face contorts with a mixture of heavenly bliss and immense pain.

“Oh fuck—” You cry out.

One of his hands snakes around your neck and squeezes lightly as he positions himself to get deeper, attempting to shove every single inch of himself inside of you; even if you struggle. With slow and hard thrust, he repeats that you’re his. It’s been so long since his cock has felt the delicious feeling of a tight wet gummy pussy swallowing him.

Outside, everyone continues to enjoy the warm day. None of the adults seem to realize that you’re even gone so no one is looking for you. If they were to, they would only find you sweating with König’s warm sticky cum dripping from your pussy.

Part 2

[runningthroughthegarden]

meeting you at the wrong right time

summary: youve encountered benny a few times. but never at midnight, while you were crying and stranded

warning: sucky guy (not benny) word count: 1.8k

the vandals were the type of guys your mother had always warned you about. yet you couldn't seem to pull your eyes away from them whenever they were near. you were absolutely not the type of girls they would want; you were the type of girl they would want to corrupt. which honestly scared you, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't intrigue you.

you were a secretary. you loved to wear light pink dresses. you loved the way gold jewelry looked on your tan skin. you loved curling your hair to frame your face. you loved to spray your skin with decadent perfumes. you loved painting your nails while listening to your records.

you were the complete opposite of them. yet a part of you wanted so badly to even get a sneak peek into their lives.

when you first saw benny, you were completely entranced. you were enjoying your saturday walking around town, when you saw him leaning up against his bike smoking a cigarette. you were shocked to see him without the usual crowd of rowdy men. hoping to finally sneak a long glance, you watch as you continue walking. but when he looks up its like your world stops. quickly snapping out of your haze, your cheeks immediately tint to a bright red.

you knew you were in for it when he took one last drag before flicking his cigarette to the ground. leaning off his bike he took just a few long strides to reach you.

"y'know mothers say it's not nice to stare" he smirks while looking down at you

"mothers also say it's dangerous to talk to mysterious bikers" you bite back, wondering where your sudden confidence came from

"i wouldn't say we're mysterious anymore. ive seen you before. seen you looking, but you run always run off"

it was so hard to read him. you couldn't tell if he was flirting with you or trying to scare you off. maybe it was both.

you look down letting out a little giggle so he can't see the very apparent blush on your face.

"i'll see you around doll" he says, the roughness of his voice sending shivers down your spine

walking back over to his bike he shoots you one last look before he races off

you were left standing there in a complete daze. just as you had worried, you were already craving more.

it had been a few days since your interaction with benny and it was all that could fill your head. you did your absolute best to avoid the vandals common areas. because you knew you would walk right into the palm of his hand if you spoke to him again. this plan ultimately failed. it was like the universe was pulling you together. but as always, you would see them and scurry away. sometimes you would catch bennys face in the crowd, and he always had that stupid smirk.

deciding enough was enough, you decided to put your emotions elsewhere. it was no secret boys around town had hoped for a chance to be with you. so in order to stop thinking of benny, you decided to take a chance with one of them.

although a part of you wanted benny, you knew your parents would kill you. you needed someone practical, someone that could take care of you. even if that person didn't make you half as excited as you were when you saw benny.

curling your lashes and putting on your favorite lipstick, you started to have doubts in your mind. you knew it was best for you to step away from benny, even though nothing has happened. you've formed this version of him in your head. the boy you were going out with had his whole life planned. sometimes security was more important than what you really wanted.

the sound of a car horn pulled you away from your thoughts as you took one last look in the mirror. racing down the stairs and kissing your parent's goodbye, you braced yourself for the night ahead of you. sure, this boy was handsome, but the fear of him being a typical college boy scared you. he would probably spend the night talking about himself and hoping to get lucky.

and god did you hate that you were right.

the second you got into the car; you knew this was someone you would not want to see again. he bragged and bragged about the school he went to, the job that was practically already laid out for him, the money he was going to make. did this really impress other girls? you found yourself drifting off while he kept talking.

on the way to the diner, you passed by the vandals club. and for the first time ever, you wished you could be in there. even if it was filled with loud and stinky bikers.

the dinner carried on the same way. no questions were asked about you. and you found yourself only being able to hum in agreement with his statements. not even sharing a full sentence.

dinner was finally over, and you couldn't be more excited to get home and sleep or daydream or hell even stare at a wall. anything would be more interesting than this.

"so do you want to come over to my place?" he asks, pulling out of the parking lot.

"actually, i was thinking of calling it a night" you reply, playing with the hem of your dress.

"are you serious?"

"yeah, i mean its getting pretty late" you whisper, trying not to make him angry

"i sat through an entire meal, paid for the damn thing?! and what i cant even get a kiss" he slightly yells

"well no, i thought that was all this was, a dinner to get to know each other" you reply, starting to grow weary

"of course it wasn't. you're all the same. just wanting a free dinner and nothing else. i bet you're a whore anyway" he scoffs

"hm no i think you're the whore actually. taking girls to dinner, talking about your boring life the entire time, and hoping you can get them in the back of your car after" you scoff, feeling your anger bubble up

he quickly pulls over on the empty street and grabs your arm with such a force you know it's going to leave a mark

"get the hell out of my car" he seethes

pulling your arm away, you can feel tears threatening to spill. quickly grabbing your purse you climb out, slamming the door. he doesn't even wait a second before he is racing away.

feeling utterly hopeless and stranded you sit on the curb. in your nicest dress, you feel like a fool. a fool for ever thinking a man boy like him would ever have good intentions. bracing yourself for the walk home, you try to calm your breathing. but you're all worked up and you can already feel your arm beginning to bruise.

the sound of engines starting quickly catches your attention, and you begin to realize you were just down the street from the vandals club. not even wanting to deal with any of them, you find the willpower to start walking back home.

feeling a presence behind you, you're ready to tell a guy off. but when a hand comes up to your bruised arm you suck in a sharp breath. turning to find the man that lived in your daydreams. you must've looked a mess, because his face was instantly washed with concern.

this only made your feelings come back ten times stronger and before you knew it, you were crying all over again. it might have been a dumb idea, but you were so scared, and you needed someone. your face hit his chest, and your hands clung onto his jacket. scared he might disappear.

his arms immediately came up to surround you, pulling you tightly against him. making soft shushes to try and calm you down.

"hey doll, its alright, just look at me for a second" he whispers, pulling your face away from his chest to cup it in his hands

"what happened, are you okay?" he quickly asked, eyes flickering trying to find any injuries

"i went out with this guy, and he got mad that i didnt want to go home with him. he grabbed my arm and called me a whore. he kicked me out of his car and left me on the street" you explained between sniffles and hiccups

bennys face changed in an instant. bringing his hands to your arm, slightly brushing over the bruises that were forming. you suck in a sharp breath, and he knows it hurts. but he begins to slowly pepper kisses along your arm. he's holding you so delicately, like he's scared you'll break at any second.

"whats his name?" he asks, it felt like he was holding back anger

"benny its okay i promise" you reply, not wanting to cause trouble

"no its not okay, no one hurts my girl"

you couldve melted when you heard him say my girl.

"andy clark" you whisper

"c'mon, wait by my bike for a second and i"ll be right back i promise okay" he says, holding your face in his hands one more time

slowly nodding you walk over to his bike. looking around you feel so out of place, but you also feel safe. it must've been a sight. you in your light pink dress, standing next to benny's bike, with the rest of the club standing around.

benny must've explained what happened, because the next second a few of the guys you recognized were walking behind him. he looked the angriest you've ever seen him, but as soon as he saw you his face softened.

"i'll take you home alright doll? the other guys are gonna take care of it" he whispers, going to hold your waist

slowly nodding, benny begins to climb on the bike. helping you on after.

the drive home was almost peaceful. the other guys left in the other direction, you just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble. you were sad when benny pulled into your neighborhood. you didn't know how you would be able to stay away from him after this.

"thank you benny, for everything"

"i'll be here for you, okay? wont let anything like that ever happen to you again" he replies

you nod, slowly walking up the stairs to your house. pausing, you say something you might regret, but it felt right.

"do you think you could stay over? think i would feel safer" it came out almost like a whisper, scared that you were reading benny wrong

"of course, doll"

you never would have imagined that you'd be tucked into your bed with benny by your side. but the way his arms curled around you, shielding you from the world. you knew you would never be able to stay away.

[sundew199]

Already damned

a/n: idk what possessed me to write sanji for this prompt but it fit well. Every thing in here is pre-established consent though not explicitly stated!! If it's not your things pls don't interact :)))

tags: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader, consensual somnophilia, oral f!recieving, uh pathetic devoted man?

kinktober day five: somnophilia

!!MINORS DNI!!

Sanji never slept much to begin with, not with constantly having to prep food for the crew or on the latter keep said prepped food away from Luffy, almost standing guard in the kitchen as he did so. But those were only on the nights Luffy just had a hankering for a late night snack. In general sleep didn't come as easily some nights like he wished, blamed it on the nicotine from his cigarette keeping him up or running through new and old recipes in his head.

He'd never say it out loud, but he envied how fast you could fall asleep. Like the second your head fell onto the pillow, you were out. On the restless nights, Sanji would lay with you, run his fingers down and across your back, press kisses into your cheeks and just admire the serenity that came with you falling asleep on him, the comfort he could provide.

Unusually restless tonight with no promise of actually falling asleep, he slid off of the bed, careful not to wake you and shuffled down to the kitchen. A small orange glow from his lighter igniting the end of his cigarette illuminated his path just a smidge, sharply inhaling the smoke and puffing it back out shortly. Sanji knew a midnight snack wouldn't help in falling asleep, but it's not like he had anything better to do.

Instead of making himself a snack, Sanji opted for finishing his cigarette and two more after that one, leaning back into the kitchen island and letting his mind wander a bit. A part of him wishes you were still up, a craving just for you forming while standing in the kitchen puffing on his cigarette. You'd been so much more needy for him, not that he was complaining to being with, but god was it a lot to keep up with. Add onto the entire crew needing him just about all day, when all you wanted was just him to yourself. A blessing and a curse this was, one Sanji found himself laughing to himself about.

Feeling as if he could properly relax now and maybe go back to sleep, Sanji left the kitchen and shuffled back to his room. Upon entering, the sight he was met with nearly had him turning on his heel. You were lying on your side haphazardly, the lightweight t-shirt you were wearing twisted around your body, accentuating your chest and waist. That wasn't the issue, it was the sight of you wearing nothing but that t-shirt, and Sanji just barely caught a glance of your glistening pussy before biting down on his knuckles to stifle his moan.

Fuck. Were you dreaming about him? You had to be, there couldn't be any other explanation.

Letting out a shuttering breath, mulling over his options, Sanji quietly locked the door before taking careful steps over to the foot of the bed. You turned over on your back right then, tits jostling from the movement and legs lazily falling open.

Fuck it. He was already damned wasn't he?

As carefully as he could, Sanji climbed onto the bed, pushing his hair out of his face and crouching down between your legs, gently wrapping his arms around your thighs. A near breathless moan left his lips now that he were face to face with your glistening cunt, the aroma of your arousal filling his nostrils like the sweetest batch of icing, making his eyes flutter and all inhibitions fade at a maddening pace.

Set on not wanting to disturb your peaceful sleep, his lips pressed softly up your inner things, the tip of his nose gliding along your supple skin making him twitch in his sleep pants. Rushing this would only cause you to wake and push his face into your cunt, not allowing him to savor the taste of you like he always prefers to.

Reaching the junction where your leg met your hip, Sanji stopped, unwrapped one of his arms from around your leg and glided it along your slick folds. You barely twitched, but just enough for his eyes to shoot up and look at you. Steady breathing still, body relaxed and waiting, making this almost too easy for him. Fuck he loved having you like this, and not just when you were asleep, just when you were relaxed and willing to let him take his time.

Slipping his middle finger in as slowly as possible, Sanji made sure to see what your reaction was, sighing at the pinch in your brows and the slight part in your lips, urging him to keeping pushing his finger all the way in. You clenched around him, greedily sucking in the finger he had buried in your cunt unmoving. He drew it back about half way and pushing it all the way in again, savoring the sound of your sweet breathless moan from the action.

Fuck, you were ruining him. And that was all he wanted.

Wetting his lips, Sanji descended down upon your clit, pressing a kiss and then swiping the flat of his tongue over it. God...you tasted so sweet and addicting, like this was his first time ever getting the chance to devour your pussy. His breath was hot as he pulled his mouth away, a familiar clench around the single finger inside you serving as a reminder to see if he'd pulled you from sleep.

Still deep in sleep much to his surprise, Sanji took to splitting your folds on his tongue, lapping up any leaking arousal and quietly humming. You tasted so so so good, like the finest dessert crafted by the best chef in the world. Oh he would never forget how lucky he was, to hold your legs apart and worship you.

"Sanji..."

Popping his head up at the soft whisper of his name, he expected you to be awake, but instead your back was slightly arched with your arms thrown above your head, letting out a soft snore.

At this point he didn't care if you woke up or not, wouldn't stop him from bringing you to the precipice on his tongue. Twisting his middle finger inside of you, slipping in his ring finger, he groaned into your flesh at the tight clench from your walls. So greedy.

Your legs were twitching by his head, but not enough to where ehe felt he need to use more force to keep them open. His fingers began to press into your skin as he turned eager, slurping and sucking at your folds and running his tongue from your entrance to your clit to swirl around it.

You were close. He could tell with the pitch in your moans, the shutter of your entire body and the tightening of your walls around his slow pumping fingers. Sanji wanted it. Needed you to cum on his mouth, he was so drunk off of you at this point that your pleasure was all that mattered. His throbbing cock pressed to the bed could wait, you were a priority.

"C'mon baby you're so close, so close." Whispering under his breath when he came up for some air, sucking through his teeth and diving back in. He knew sucking on your clit and curling his fingers around that spot deep inside you would do the trick, holding back his moans so he could hear yours that were quickly increasing in volume.

"Fuck Sanji please-"

So focused he didn't even bother to look up to see if he'd finally woken you, flicking the tip of his tongue across your clit enclosed behind his lips. Now your legs were shaking, quivering more like from the determination melding into his actions, the end goal dangling in front of him like a tease.

"Cum in my mouth angel," Muttering what he didn't know was his last statement before you came, eyes rolling into the back of his head when your walls fluttered around his fingers and the rush of your arousal filled his mouth, eagerly lapping it up like a dog dying of thirst, knowing he looked so pathetic. But he never cared, because it was all about you, never about him and he didn't mind it being that way one bit.

Easing his fingers out, Sanji sat back on his feet, looking down at the mess he made. A quick trip to the bathroom to grab a warm rag, he swiped it over your inner thighs, getting most of it up.

Haphazardly tossing the used rag to the side, he contemplated lighting a quick cigarette before crawling back in bed with you. But it dawned on him how tired he was, almost feeling excited that he was worn and wanting nothing but sleep, prompting him to carefully lift your limp sleeping body to his chest as he laid down. Sanji truly didn't expect you to still be sleeping, not after what he thinks was an intense orgasm.

Softly kissing your forehead and keeping an arm tight around your body, Sanji felt his sleep heavy eyes close on their own for the first time in a long time, content and oddly at peace.