Tumgik
#please reblog.. sniff....
ajxrn-archive · 3 months
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so sick of this freak!!!! guards, impregnate that man!!,!!!!!
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please enjoy this video of my cat sniffing treats out of a cardboard box ❤️
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ovaryacted · 29 days
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GUARD DOG
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─ Logan Howlett/Wolverine x fem! reader || WC: 5.0k
SYNOPSIS: On another one of your joint club outings with Wade, your boyfriend Logan stands by to make sure you enjoy your night. Once you both arrive at your apartment, he tends to your needs and helps you relax.
CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUT. Established Relationship. Age gap implied [Logan is his canon age, Reader is mid to late 20's]. Alcohol consumption. Kissing. Unprotected P in V. Shower sex. Fingering (f receiving). Manhandling. Biting/Marking Kink. Size Kink if you squint. Mutual fantasies of public sex. Worst!/Variant! Logan Howlett. Grumpy! Logan in public, soft! Logan in private. Wade is the third wheel who drinks for fun but can't get drunk (obvi). Descriptions of the reader's clothing (mini skirt & skimpy top). Reader is shorter than Logan in heels. Logan can pick the reader up.
A/N: Lord this was a pain in the ass to write for absolutely no reason, but I am glad it's done. Big shoutouts and thank yous to @ozarkthedog and @pedgito for reading this over and encouraging me. And also thank you to @zloshy and @studioghibelli for holding my hand and helping me out with the brainstorming process. As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy! <3
NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3
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To this day, Logan doesn’t know why he still puts up with Wade’s shit or agrees to his antics. But he doesn’t mind doing it so long as it keeps his eccentric friend off his back and keeps you happy.
The club he was brought to was loud, the air thick with the pungent stench of weed, and he swears he could distinctly sniff out cocaine in the bathrooms, irritating his nose. Bright strobe lights strained his vision, and the obnoxious pop music vibrating through the walls was anything but pleasing to his sensitive ears. Thankfully, the bar had Jack Daniels on the shelf, enough to do the job and keep himself busy.
He raises his arm to lean against the bar, sipping away at his fourth cup of whiskey, knowing that the buzz he feels will go away as quickly as it hits him. Adept eyes scanned the club, landing on your figure as you danced to the current song.
Logan admired the sway of your hips, the mini skirt you wore riding up your thighs with every pop and swivel. The low-cut top you paired it with shifted when your arms rose to the beat change, the open back showing more than enough skin to leave to the imagination. He could taste the light sheen of sweat from your neck at a distance, amplifying your natural pheromones that elevated the perfume you sprayed on earlier.
He did what he did best. He watched. Even with his dominating presence, he was hyper-aware of the other men who stood by prowling like hawks, stalking their prey and waiting for the best moment to attack. Wade was enough to keep you safe during your joint club outings, but now that he was with you, Logan ensured you made it home every night.
You were smart and vigilant, always were before you met him. But Logan was familiar with the instinctive behavior of men, especially men like him. Ill-tempered. Selfish. Prone to arguments and have an affinity to attract trouble. He knows what they were all thinking, creating mental checklists of what tricks they’d use to guarantee you went home with them instead. Countless fantasies of their hands feeling you up, touching you in ways that Logan was allowed to, in a way only he could.
His heart thumped in his ribs at the thought. The innate possession he felt towards you flared as he impatiently wiped his hand over the dark denim of his jeans, ignoring the growing itch to claw the next fucker that thought about coming within six feet of you.
You could hold your own; you’ve told him more than enough times that he didn’t need to stand by and monitor your every move. Yet he does it without hesitation, refusing to give anyone else a chance to breathe you in or get close enough to touch what was his. 
Wade waltzes to the bar and orders another martini, glancing at Logan and contorting his neck to peek at you dancing with a blissful smile.
“Having fun, Wolvie?” he asks, grin widening as his lips envelop the thin straw in his drink, slurping it up like a refreshing cup of water. 
“You know the answer to that,” Logan mutters, finishing the rest of his amber liquid in one gulp before tapping the cup on the bar countertop and asking for a refill. The bartender flashes him a look of concern, receiving a flick of Wade’s hand and topping off the glass.
“You’re five drinks in. Quit being so fucking grumpy,” Wade sneers, detecting someone walking in their direction. “Now flip that frown upside down, Logie bear. Our girl is coming over, and I don’t need you getting your panties in a twist because you’re moody.”
Logan rolled his eyes before spotting you striding to him, standing in front of the burly man with a hazy smile. He noticed the multitude of heads that turned to follow your direction, tracking you with every step you took toward the deviant pair. A low whistle seized his attention, Logan’s head rapidly spun at the sound to find its source and nip it in the bud. The growl settling in the back of his throat simmered down once your soft hand touched his chest, grounding him to you.
“Hey, old man.” Even in heels, you still couldn’t reach him face-to-face, smirking when his thick arm wrapped around your waist to bring you closer. “Enjoyed the show?”
“The music in here fucking sucks, but I can’t complain too much,” Logan’s lips hovered over the shell of your ear, lowering his voice as he spoke. “You were my favorite part.”
“Oh, you weren’t looking at the girl in the cocktail dress? I don’t know, her dress was real short.” The corner of his mouth curled up, challenging your statement that feigned any truth. Giggling, you clutched his bicep, the alcohol loosening your tongue to speak more bluntly. You pivoted to spot Wade, who watched you both from afar in animated shock.
“Problem?”
“Sorry, honey. I just can’t stand seeing the two of you be all touchy-feely in front of me. It’s very disturbing.” Wade finished his martini, ordering a margarita and explicitly asking for a tiny umbrella. “I hate that you took my spot. Creeping in like a slut into a happy home and snatching my man away.”
Ever since Wade had introduced you to Logan almost a year ago, it had been an instant connection he got front-row seats to witness. He was excited when he finally compelled Logan to go to the club you both frequented, recalling how he raked his eyes over you when you weren’t looking. It was only a matter of time before you left the club with Logan one night, and Wade met him at the front door the following day like a disappointed parent acknowledging his walk of shame. 
All jokes aside, considering the pair he just unleashed into the world, he would believe himself to be the city’s most qualified and successful cupid.
“Can’t call me a homewrecker if there was no home to wreck, sweetie,” you shrugged, hearing Logan’s dry chuckle.
“Sure, whatever. But you should be thanking me, you know? You get to have those big, meaty hands on you all the time. Not to mention you get to fuck him and actually see his d-”
“Wilson.” Logan’s voice cut him off, causing Wade to murmur under his breath. You fronted the brunette, messing with the collar of his leather jacket.
“Don’t be mean to him. He’s right. I do have the happy privilege of fucking you all the time.” Your glossy lips hypnotized Logan, his hand kneading your rear as he caught your breathless laugh again. He’ll never fully admit it, but he’s always loved your lack of filter when you had a little bit to drink. You were funny and engaging without needing the extra boost, but something about you being openly vulgar made his blood flow south.
“That you do.” His ego blazes inside him, leaning forward to kiss you in the club for the first time that night.
You happily accepted it with a pleased hum, tasting the Jack he’d been drinking and exchanging the flavor of vodka still on your tongue. Your fingers clutched at his jacket, body pulsing with need as the alcohol in your system beelined straight to your clit. Audible gagging noises pushed you to draw away from Logan, your drunken sight landing on the culprit.
“Oh, am I interrupting you guys? I told you to give me a PDA warning next time before you start getting freaky, otherwise I’m joining,” Wade taunted, getting a scoff from you and an irritated grunt from his friend.
“How about we share another drink? Will you forgive me then, Wadey?” You flapped your lashes at him, his wrinkly skin creasing to mimic your gleeful appearance.
“Fine, but only because you know how to sweet talk me. Tequila?” Your optimistic nod motivated him to order another round of shots for the two of you to down. You felt a gentle squeeze on your arm, meeting Logan’s gaze and silent questioning. Can you handle drinking more?
“Just a few more, and we’ll go, okay?” You stroked his chin, kissing the corner of his jaw in reassurance. He asked to test your senses, only intervening to stop if you were too far gone to speak to him. Unlike him, he wants you to keep your liver intact.
“Alright. But the second he starts offering you shit to snort, we’re leaving.”
“I would do no such thing!” Wade dramatically reacts, offering two tequila shots while holding some of his own. “Besides, I don’t need our precious darling over here fucking up her pretty nose. She needs that thing to smell your bullshit from a mile away.”
With another laugh, you swallowed the shot of clear liquid, inhaling a hiss and consuming the next, sucking on the lime to reset your tastebuds. Your body warmed with a buzz from the drink, an electric shock coursing through your veins as it roused you. 
“C’mon, sugarplum, you owe me a dance.” You didn’t have time to waste as Wade dragged you to the dance floor, throwing Logan a flirty wave and joining your mutual friend. The Wolverine returned to his position, manning his post and sipping on the remaining liquid in his glass. He kept tallies on the wandering eyes that gravitate to you, fighting the urge to rip out every single one.
He’ll keep the peace for your sake. You were already his, you’ve been his ever since you took him home and made him stay the night. What more did he have to prove?
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It was nearing two in the morning when you finally decided to call it a night. By now, the heels on your feet started slipping, and your footing grew unsteady when you attempted to walk to the bathroom. You held your bearings long enough for Logan to call a cab home after buying some greasy food for you to eat, shooing Wade once he said he was stopping by Vanessa’s.
Logan’s touch was constant the entire way home, skimming your thigh and lower back in the cab, responding to every one of your little mumbles to keep you awake until you arrived at your apartment. Getting you out of the backseat was another hassle he was familiar with, aiding you to stand up straight without accidentally exposing yourself. The best solution he came up with was carrying you inside, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he held you steady and trekked inside the apartment complex.
He didn’t mind the faint squeezes of your arms or the clenches of your thighs around his waist. You were calm, safe, and happy, mindlessly humming in the crook of his neck as he eased his way through the front door. Strong arms entrapped you as the familiar walls of your bedroom filled your vision, Logan placing you on the edge of your bed with a huff of breath.
“I’m gonna get you a cup of water. Alright?” Logan’s hazel eyes met yours, taking in your feeble nod.
“Okay,” voice light and airy, you patiently waited for Logan to return as promised. Within a minute, he had a tall glass of cold water in his hand, a few ice cubes floating at the top.
“Open up. Need you to drink some of this for me.” Heeding his command, you sipped the refreshing beverage, soothing your parched throat. You got halfway down the glass before he drew the cup away, placing it on the bedside table for later.
“Let’s get these heels off now,” Logan suggested next, descending to his knees and bending his leg to raise your foot on his thigh, messing with the straps tied to your ankles.
“Yes, please. They’re fucking killing me.”
He chuckled as you wiggled your foot at him, allowing his thick fingers to unclasp the buckle that held your heels together. Peeling one of the shoes off and dropping it to the floor, he loosened the other, the heel falling to the ground with an audible thud.
Strong hands held your right foot by the ankle and gently twisted it, stretching the tendon after a long night out and doing the same to the left. You whizzed contently at the touch, the devoted rubs of his thumbs and forefingers massaging your feet after hours of dancing never failed to make you feel better. Before you started dating him, you underestimated Logan’s capacity to be affectionate, but he eventually got the hang of things once your relationship grew more steady. 
Sure, he had been alive a long time, you got that warning from Wade prior to meeting Logan. But once you cracked through that tough exterior, you developed a soft spot for the man buried under all that trauma.
“Always so nice to me yet grumpy with everyone else,” you said, running a hand through his hair as he stayed on his knees.
“You’re saying you don’t like special treatment?” he teased, the look in his eye heating your belly. He caressed your shin, drawing circles over your skin as you watched him.
“Never said that. Like it too much sometimes,” he stood up, kissing the top of your head and walking to the bathroom to wash his hands.
“Let’s take those clothes off and get you in something less skimpy.”
“Already? You didn’t tell me anything about my skimpy outfit. Thought you liked it…” you feigned a pout, and Logan raised a curious eyebrow.
“You look good, you always do. I told you that before we left.” He loomed over you, a shiver rushing down your spine when his musk surrounded you. His hands were at either side of your hips, palms resting on the mattress as he observed you.
“I like it when you get all dolled up for me.” One of his knuckles moved to graze your bare forearm, the hair on your skin rising from the goosebumps that followed. “Hate that everyone else gets to look, though.”
“You did good tonight. Didn’t claw anybody in the ribs.” You were only half joking, but you knew it wasn’t such a farfetched idea for him to do just that. All it took was one guy to come too close, and Logan’s knuckles were splitting to unsheath the blades embedded between them.
“Trust me, I was thinking it.”
“I know you were. Still happy you didn’t, so thank you for that.” You held his cheek and tenderly kissed him. “Now take my clothes off.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Logan tugged your mini skirt down your legs, tossing it to the floor. Your top was next, lifting your arms so he could pull it up from your torso, leaving your top half bare. He leaned back to take you in, raking his eyes over your uncovered figure. You were only clad in the lace black thong he noticed earlier when you were getting dressed, the thin piece of fabric doing nothing to conceal what he knew lay underneath.
“You’re staring again.” Your voice brought him to reality, a dry hum being his response.
“You don’t usually complain when I do,” he noted, growing more cocky at the uptick of the subdued tension between you.
“Because I like it when you look at me, smartass.” You held him by the fabric of the white tee hiding under his jacket, hands roaming over the expanse of his chest and stomach, messing with the metal of his belt buckle.
“Seems like you want something…” Logan hungrily watched as your legs spread wider to accommodate for his thicker ones between them, lingering to pounce on you.
“Want you to fuck me.” A rich groan tumbled out of Logan when you yanked him down for a kiss, chasing his tongue with your own and biting his bottom lip. His large hands skate over your thighs, textured fingers pinching your hip to keep you in place. Pulling his head away, he exhaled out of his nose, lightly grazing the tip of it against yours.
“Not until we shower. You smell like Wade and tequila.” He walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, messing with the knobs to get the searing temperature you liked and coming to capture your dumbfounded expression.
“Are you fucking serious?” You shouldn’t be surprised. Though you think he was just finding more ways to get you to sober up.
“Very. I don’t need you smelling like him in bed. I want you to smell like you.”
Rising to your feet, you entered the bathroom and bent down to peel your thong off. Holding the last piece of clothing by the tip of your finger, you flung it to Logan, swaying your hips with an added flare as you stepped under the showerhead. The steaming water hit your aching body, comforting your sore legs from standing on an arch for so long. 
You heard shuffling from the other side of the glass barrier, enjoying the feel of the scalding spray as burly arms encircled your midriff, holding you loosely by the waist. Turning to face Logan, he eyed you with a softness reserved only when you were alone, your love worming its way into his cold heart and chipping away at the frozen bits and pieces over time.
“I’m surprised you haven’t melted yet from how hot this water is,” Logan jested, pressing yourself closer and gliding your fingers over his torso.
“You’ll get used to it,” you brushed his comment off, his rough fingertips coasting down your back, much softer than how he handled you in the club. “You’re the one that likes showering with me anyway.”
“Course I do, but I’ll never know how you tolerate this. You sure you aren’t the mutant here?” You lightly slapped his sternum, petting his skin with a shake of your head.
Logan maintained the scorching temperature of the shower stream as he held your chin with his forefinger and thumb, bending forward to kiss you, slow and passionate as it always was. You reached for his broad shoulders, opening your mouth to welcome his tongue, the muscle curling around yours with ease.
Maneuvering to pin you to the tiled wall, your hands ran up to the nape of his neck, driving your fingers through his wet hair as you sought more of his touch. Logan parted from you, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and neck, biting at the skin. Your breathing grew more sporadic, desire surging through you and flourishing between your thighs.
“Logan, please,” you were already begging for more, and he hadn’t done anything prevalent yet. Even with the alcohol slowly ebbing away, your arousal intensified, and a desperate craving for his attention overwhelmed you.
“What do you need? Tell me, sweetheart,” he commanded, his tongue rolling down to your clavicle, sucking a mark into the side of your neck for you to uncover in the morning.
“Need you to touch me.” Unabashedly, you took one of his hands by the wrist, spreading your thighs to position it where you needed him most. His fingers quickly found your pussy, drenched and crying out for his touch. The tips of his pointer and middle fingers drifted up to your sensitive nub, twitching under the initial rubs he delivered.
“Yeah? Need me to make you feel good, sugar?” Logan’s ego continued to ascend as he observed the expressions on your face, your eyebrows furrowing when his digits plunged into your aching hole.
“Been like this for a while, hm?” The smooth timbre of his voice spurred you on, directing his free hand to hold the bottom of your thigh, raising it to his hip and keeping it in place.
“Since you kissed me in the club.” Your confession fell over his lips, nails digging into his shoulder blades, leaving crescent indents in their wake. “Wanted you to fuck me in the bathroom.”
A deep moan rumbled in Logan’s chest at your words, crooking his fingers into that spot tucked at the roof of your entrance. You whined loudly at the touch, tossing your head back against the tile behind you and clenching hard around his thick digits.
“Next time. All you gotta do is bring me there, and I’ll fuck you over the sink.”
You couldn’t help but envision what it would be like to follow through on Logan’s proposal. How he’d pursue the imprint of your natural scent, mixing in with the aroma of your perfume that emanated off of you in waves. His lips would make a path over your shoulder and neck, leaving teeth marks for the club members to see after he was done with you. His fingers would wrap around your throat as he fucked you against the counter of the bathroom sink, forcing you to look at your reflection as you took him from behind.
Mascara streaked down your cheeks in dark smudges, your lip gloss fading and leaving a ring on the base of his cock from when you sucked him off, his cum dribbling down your thighs while he grabs your torn underwear and stuffs them into his pocket. And once you’ve both had your fun, you’d take his hand and stroll out of the bathroom with a smile, proudly flaunting Logan’s claim for everyone to acknowledge who you belonged to.
He was focused on the dives of his fingers inside your cunt, concentrated pulses to your g-spot and sneakily adding his thumb to the mix to press into your clit. Your half-lidded eyes glanced at him, the tell-tale signs of your upcoming orgasm creeping up and building in your gut. Logan could sense it too, the increase in your heart rate and the pulsing of your walls signaled that you were getting close, desperately seeking that release he could give you.
“I know you’re close.” He picked up the pace of his fingers, punctuating his thrusts to work in a third digit to stretch you out properly, the circles on your bundle of nerves becoming relentless. “Come for me, darlin’. C’mon, let me feel it.”
Trained like a dog to obey his command, your climax hit you with force, the strained rope of tension snapping and shooting relief up your spine. Gripping at the nape of his neck, the moan you emitted resounded through the bathroom as your thighs quivered from Logan’s ministrations. The slick walls of your pussy convulsed around him, giving you a few more pumps with his fingers before he took them out, watching in a daze as he licked them to taste your slick with a satisfied grumble.
“Always taste so damn sweet,” Logan remarked, letting you taste yourself on his tongue with another kiss. The hard length of his cock twitched over your lower belly, the ache of being empty overwhelming your senses.
“You can take a little more right, princess?” It was a genuine question, analyzing your energy levels after a long night out. But you craved to feel Logan the best way you knew how, nodding your head at the thought of feeling him deep inside where he belonged.
“Want you, please,” you implored, large hands grabbing the underside of your thighs to lift you from the ground, Logan’s strong hold keeping you upright on the wall. The tip of his cock bumped against your opening, your arms wrapping around his neck as he positioned himself.
“Hold on to me.” You did as he said, mewling in pleasure as he sank into your waiting cunt.
You welcomed him without resistance, his legs and forearms flexing to hold you up as he drove his hips forward until he was down to the hilt. A whimper wormed its way out of your mouth once Logan was tucked snug inside you, the tip of him hitting depths only he could reach. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feel of him, legs wound tighter as you adjusted to him.
“That’s it. Exactly where I’m supposed to be,” Logan confirmed with a grin, pressing his forehead to yours and breathing you in. He concentrated on the way your wet heat enveloped him so well, pussy molded to take him like that was your purpose.
Leaning more into your embrace, he began to move, shifting his hips to dive into you just the way you liked. Deep and even thrusts sent you reeling into ecstasy, your toes coiling as he persisted in his consistent pistoning.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried out at his movements, the upright position Logan had you in propelled the tip of his cock to hit the roof of your entrance with rehearsed accuracy. Your clit came in contact with the hair at the base of his length, the delicious friction adding to the amplified sensations.
“Feel so good. Fucking warm and wet. Shit.” He rambled against your throat, both of his big hands cupping your ass and keeping you secure as he fucked up into you.
Logan used his strength to bounce you on top of him in time with his jabs, heavy balls smacking into you as he picked up the pace and chased his release. You tightened again, nails biting into the taut skin of his shoulders and raking down, drawing a noisy groan out of the man from the pain. His skin reddened with the streaks you left behind, mending together as his regenerative powers healed him in seconds, removing any evidence of your marks.
“Logan, need it, need you. Please.” He understood what you were asking for, the pounding of his hips getting sloppier on your instruction. “Want you to fill me up…”
“Cum again for me and I will. Fill your pussy up the way you need.”
He wasn’t asking. Your deft fingers went up to his hair and gave him a harsh yank, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, meshing your mouth with his. Logan panted a breath and followed with a hiss at the slight ache, the urge to fill you up awakening the most primal parts of him.
Your climax washed over you abruptly, mouth positioned in a silent scream as you unravel underneath Logan. He whispered words of praise in your ear, prolonging your orgasm for as long as he could. Your walls flexed and spasmed around him, soft cries morphing into helpless whimpers with every fierce buck of his wide hips. Molten pleasure surged down his back, and his hands sought purchase on your body, squeezing hard enough to bruise. 
“Fuck,” Logan rasped into your skin, stifling his growl with a sharp bite to your neck. The blunt ends of his teeth dug into you, hard enough to tear at your flesh that bloomed into bright red and will fade to purple.
With a few more lunges, he burrowed himself deep inside, painting your walls with his spend and claiming you like he always has. Your legs tensed around his abdomen, making sure to keep him safely tucked and not let a single drop go to waste. You slumped against him, head lolling forward to rest on his shoulder as he littered soft kisses over the marks he left behind in a muted apology. 
“Better now?” he asked, carefully bringing you to stand on the ground, keeping his hold on your hips in case your wobbly legs gave out.
“Mhm. Much better.” You nodded, offering him a kiss and enjoying the aftermath of your respective highs. The carnal appetite you felt earlier dimmed down to manageable levels now that you got what you wanted.
“Good,” Logan reciprocated your delicate kisses, doing what he could to calm and prep you for bed. He knows you could theoretically go for another round, but your exhaustion was palpable. He’d have to make up for it in the morning.
He took your loofah and body wash, pouring the liquid over the net fabric and scrubbing at your figure. He washed you meticulously, rinsing off the suds, and you returned the favor by cleansing him too. Your scents interlaced together as you washed each other, a smile sneaking up on Logan’s face at the realization.
After the shower, Logan did the honors of drying you off, rubbing you down with lotion, and grabbing a baggy dark T-shirt to dress you in. You brushed your teeth as he searched for his sweatpants, alternating between using the sink until you were both ready to end your night.
You eased into the mattress first, tugging the duvet to the side for Logan to follow you and lay on his back. Instinctively, you cuddled into his side once he made room for you, throwing an arm across his chest and lifting your leg to bend comfortably over his thigh.
“You’re gonna make me breakfast, right?” you questioned sleepily over his shoulder, familiar with the post-coitus routine he established in your relationship. In a few hours, you’ll find him making pancakes in the kitchen, or he’ll be under the sheets between your legs again. Either way, it’ll be a good start to your day so long as he’s the first thing you see when the sun beams through the bedroom window.
“I’ll think about it.” Jabbing at his ribs in mock retaliation, you closed your eyes and listened to the distant sounds of the city filling the room, soothing you to sleep.
“Love you, baby. “ You’ll doze off before you hear his reply, nuzzling into his body and chasing the stability and comfort of your personal weighted blanket and heater.
He waited until your breathing evened out and your heart rate leveled, beating on par with his. Giving you a side glance, you were fast asleep, embracing Logan like a teddy bear. Pressing one final kiss to your forehead, he watched you sleep for a while longer, stroking your backbone and holding you close.
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
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©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!
Dividers by @saradika-graphics.
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yuvany · 2 months
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# HYPNOTIC ''
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𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 getting a whiff off your perfume.
OT7 enhypen x female reader ֶָ֢ WC: ~ 100 / character GENRE / WARNING(S) :: fluff + slightly suggestive + skinship + est relationship + possibly a bit ooc + not proofread!
( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆
immediately spots the new scent on you. You and him were cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, and he inched himself closer to you slowly. "Baby, did you spray a new perfume today?" He asks, in which you reply, "Yeah, do you like it?" Heeseung didn't answer right away, instead, his nose found your neck and breathed in your scent. The tip of his nose brushed against your nape a couple of times, and his warm breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck ever so slightly. "So?" You whispered with a hint of uncertainty. "It's lovely." He replies at last, his face now buried in your shoulder.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆
is a perfume enthusiast for sure. Asks what perfume it is, and throws in his own guess. Most of the times, he guesses correct, but only if the perfume you're wearing is trending. You also ask him what he thinks often. "Jjongie, smell this, please." You request with puppy eyes, and why would he reject you? You lift your wrist up to his level and he sniffs it a couple of times before nodding his head. "Might just be my favourite, princess." He says with a smirk.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍
"You smell nice." He just blurts it out, and it takes you a while to fully comprehend what he meant. "Don't I smell nice on other days as well?" You tease with a smile, obviously knowing that he refers to the change of perfume you're wearing. "Of course you do! This smell is just different than before." His hand holds yours, and he lifts it up to his nose to smell your wrist. Jake sniffs it for a while, a bit longer than expected, which causes you to arch an eyebrow. "I really like this one, babe." He comments at last, and kisses your hand before pulling you into a strong hug.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍
lets the smell familiarise in his nose before asking, "Is that the perfume I bought for you?" You nod, and smell your wrist for confirmation. "I really like the smell." You say, looking up at him. "I do too, it reminded me of you, you know?" Sunghoon says, kissing your forehead. You lean into his touch, and engulf him in a long hug where he swings you from from side to side. The two of you enjoy this moment of intimacy and closeness. The scent adding a sweet and comfortable aroma to the moment. "Maybe I should wear this more often" you laugh, patting his head that found itself by your nape.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎
hums in delight when you walk past him, and the scent lingers in the air for a while. You turn around with a questioning look painting your features. "I just mean that you smell wonderful!" He said panickingly in case you got the wrong idea of his reaction. "Really? I can't really smell myself right now." You chuckled, and walked up to him, forgetting what you actually wanted to do prior. "Well, there's no need to worry. Even if you smelled bad, I wouldn't worry." Sunoo said, taking your hand in his. "What, why?" You asked, shocked. "Because I wouldn't have to worry about other people trying to pursue you."
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍๋
has a sensitive nose, but when he breaths in the faint smell of your new perfume, he perks an eyebrow. "Is that you who smells so nice?" He asks, stepping closer to you. "Yeah, why, is it too strong, babe?" You ask worryingly. "No, no, it's just right." Jungwon wraps his arms around your waist, and pulls you closer to him. "I was scared for a second, thought it was too strong for you, and, so I switched to oil perfumes." You explain followed with a soft giggle. He cracks a sweet smile for you, and presses a soft kiss to your cheek sweetly. "It smells sweet, just like you."
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈
you had asked for his opinion on it, and risen your wrist to make it easier for him to smell it. Personally, you liked it a lot, so you really hoped he did too. Halfway up, he softly took your hand, and held you by the wrist, letting the perfume waft his way. Riki's eyes shifted from yours to the side of your head, and moved closer to smell it better. "Sorry baby, this doesn't really fit you." He says, and you are shook. "Huh?" You mumble, and he chuckles. "You're so cute. I was just kidding. It smells amazing, babe." He said with a joking tone, and nudged your with his hip.
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Reminder to not spam like since it can shadow ban me😖
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 9 months
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No Way Out
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Pairing: Dark Tangerine x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SUMMARY: Escaping Tangerine was never an option.
WARNING: Implied Kidnapping.
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
I dug this out of nowhere to feed to Tangerine fandom. Probably one of my lasts drafts about him :(
--
“Love…don’t you fuckin’ dare.” 
You swallow hard, fear building in your throat as Tangerine appears in the room, stiffly standing near the door. 
The gun threatens to slip from your sweaty grip and you increase the pressure, struggling to keep your hand steady despite the very obvious tremor.
It's not like you know how to use the revolver that you somehow managed to find in one of Tangerine's office drawers, but you thought you could use it to get out of this unwanted situation.
“Give me the keys and I won’t shoot.” your attempt to have an authoritative voice fails miserably, both you and Tangerine realizing your terrified state.
“Y/N, darlin’…” He takes a cautious step forward, approaching you and you sniff, terror flooding you.
“Please! Please, give me the keys…” you beg, taking a few steps behind until you bump into the kitchen aisle, trapped between the furniture and Tangerine.
You panic as he keeps moving forward in your direction. 
“Stop! Just stop moving or…. or I swear I’ll shoot.”  
“Listen, love, how about we talk this through’, yeah?” he raises his hands in the air, assuring that he wasn't going to try anything but you still keep the gun pointed at him.
“That’s a fully loaded gun, love, you can seriously hurt yourself with it and we don’t want that, do we?”
Tangerine takes another small step towards you as you shake your head, tears blurring your vision and your hand slightly lowers. 
“I just wanna go home.” you sob, shoulders shaking.
Your blurry eyes makes you miss the small step he takes towards you, his cheek twitching with anticipation. 
“I know, love, but this is your home now.” his voice is smooth and calm, placating you and you look at him, eyes begging him. 
“Please…”
“You’re not leavin’ this house, love, you know that.” his confidence scares you and he extends his hand, nodding towards the gun. “So why don’t you gimme' me that gun and I promise I won’t get mad, how ‘bout that?”
You don’t reply and Tangerine sighs. 
“Cause did ya know that the door also needs a finger print scan to open up, right?”
Your eyes dart towards the robust front door, already protected with several locks whose keys you still don't have.
Big mistake. 
By the time you realize that there is no scanner, it’s too late. Tangerine lunges forwards and next thing you know, you're pinned down between the counter and his body. 
You cry out as he expertly twists your wrist, taking the gun away from you, carelessly throwing it to the floor.
His anger is visible as he roughly turns you around, slamming you face down on the counter, pressing his lips to your ear. 
“Looks like you’re in a big fuckin’ trouble, love.” 
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queenendless · 10 months
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❤️‍🩹Tough Love (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)❤️‍🩹
A/N: This is a paid commission I wrote, requested by @anime-lover1234
Content warning: JJK AU with lots of angst, hurt/comfort, short injured teacher/sorcerer reader with lots of boo boos, overprotective!upset!SatoSugu hubbies yall.
Haibara alive in this AU, Nanako and Mimiko are first years here with Yuji Megumi and Nobara and they're your students too. Plus Gojo can heal others in this AU.
AND NEARLY 7K LONG SO THERE!
*Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like and follow instead.
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You wanted to impress them.
You wanted to prove your worth in battle.
But things went far off the deep end.
It all began that one sunset evening.
As a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer, you were a perfect match for the Grade 1 curse spirit lurking in the forest near an abandoned school rumored to be haunted after closing down due to allegations of murderous cover ups.
As you pulled down the Curtain, the cool winds blew at your hair, swaying along with your black attire, as the sun was setting for you exorcized the curse at last.
You were turning, ready to return to Haibara-kun who was waiting by the car parked out front, when you felt a stir in the air.
You sensed it further deep in the thicket.
Another cursed spirit.
Small … but on the highest level.
Curiosity and cockiness came in, seeping into your being, compulsively drawn towards your next – spontaneous – assignment.
It was a tall skinny humanoid one, blood painting its skin, eating one of the few mangled teen corpses strewn about the splattered wrecked tents of the makeshift campsite.
"Forgive me. I couldn't save you all." You muttered, cursed energy pulsing through your legs. “I'll avenge you by exorcizing that curse.”
Then you chanted quietly.
“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."
With the barrier now placed; this one designed to keep curses in, you moved in.
With its eyes slowly turning to spot you bouncing off the branches, a swift blur dashing through the air, you warped right behind it, readying a blow right to its head.
But going toe to toe with a special grade cursed spirit on your own … you know it's not the same as it was before. But you were willing to take this golden opportunity.
Your fist blazing with cursed energy, ready to strike, even as —
The spike in its cursed energy went through the roof in that split second.
The atmosphere now pricked with that rotten flesh smog coming off its figure.
One that sprouted up to 10 ft tall.
Your cursed punch missed its mark.
Its sharpened hand going right into your side.
It was all a trap.
And you fell for it.
Hook line and sinker.
Your banshee cry startled the birds as you warped out of its grip, blood spraying out from the forced movement, skidding back on shaky limbs, its toxic touch seeping into your gash wound.
Flashes of white exploded in your mind.
The screams of your two mighty husband sorcerers were blowing out your eardrums.
Your vision was spotty but you felt the shift in its cursed presence spring forward through the air, barely dodging its swipe but feeling the tips of its claws scrape your stomach.
Deciding to draw it away, you became the injured bait, running for your life, warping out of its grab, ready to slam a kick down from above —
The sight of Satoru and Suguru bleeding and crumpled before you took its place. A twinge of fear stabbed your nerves — you were socked hard from the side, paralyzing your cranium, warping in your dazed state right before slamming into a tree.
Covering your ears in futility at the intrusive fake voices invading your eardrums, you squeezed your eyes over your unwillingness to see their gutted crimson painted selves.
"Don't leave us here!"
Toru.
"How could you leave us behind!?"
Sugu.
"It's not real. They're not here. They can hold their own. Even against bastards like you." You growled under your breath, keeping your eyes shut. "Don't see. Don't hear. Just feel."
Sniffing the air as cursed energy heightened your nostrils, you followed its putrid stench and nothing else. Trusting your sense of smell by amplifying it to near max — your limit.
Yet the debilitating toxins were slowing you down. You were getting lightheaded as blood trailed down your side and leg from that open wound. The punches and kicks you managed to land on it were barely making a dent on this creep.
This curse was sapping you of your strength, your swiftness, and your stability at an alarming rate. All you could do was dodge and weave. But didn't stop the onslaught of punches, kicks and slashes littering your body.
Those normal – now dead – teens were just fodder to it.
Now that you; a sorcerer, was in its domain, you became its toy. It would kill you. But first, it would take its time and play with you, prolonging its enjoyment as long as possible, wearing you down until you broke …
Down at the nearby rural town, outside a combini, a bespectacled man just stepped out, throwing away the wrappings of his just finished sandwich, turning to where the foul energies were resonating, seeing the barrier among the thicket of trees …
Curled into the ground, gashes, bruises and blood painted your now immobile body, keeping your head to the ground when you suddenly sensed a trusting presence slipping inside the veil, looming above you, followed by the anguished roars of the special grade collapsing.
"Don't let it hit you … its toxins can make you hallucinate … and can mimic voices." You rasped out the warnings, coughing out blood in the process, when his folded work jacket was pressed into your hands then against your crimson dripping side.
"Understood. Keep pressure on that wound. You've lost enough blood already." You choked out a sob of relief at that low rumbling voice.
Kento Nanami.
A fellow Grade 1 sorcerer. A dependable comrade and a close friend. One of incredible proficiency. Extremely precise aim. Evades with clever maneuvers. Reinforced body with cursed energy.
Tying his spotted tie around his fist, he went into Overtime. With his now stained clothed blunted sword in hand, Nanami struck in as many weak spots as he could create on that titan.
The red and black sparks of Black Flash streaking right off him to chop off its enormous arm.
His words were ringing in your ears as he revealed his hand intentionally to raise his power levels.
Slashing weak points in the surrounding pine trees, he follows it off with diving in to cleave off its legs by the knee.
Bringing it face down to ground level just to cleave its head in two horizontally.
Releasing both his binding vows to enact that single blow, Nanami's extension technique Collapse activated, causing those pine trees to come tumbling down to bury it for good measure.
Scooping you up at breakneck speed, you two got clear of the fallen debris, slipped through the decaying barrier.
Neither of you sensed it any more.
Nanami's eyes bore great disappointment down upon you from on high. "And here I thought you were better than to emulate those two's recklessness."
You felt your pride crack, your ego bruise, and your shame boosted over Nanami-san's disapproval when you felt yourself blacking out and your form became limp too quick for his liking.
Nanami's exasperated, panicking face getting all up in yours, his shouting going mute in your ringing ears, occurred before it all went dark.
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
Hastily calling Nitta-san to send the proper authorities to handle post cleanup in those woods, Nanami kept pressure on your wound in your stead as he situated you two carefully in the backseat as Haibara stepped on it; his wary eyes peeking in the rearview mirror now and then just so he wouldn't crash the car.
Watching in dismay as the only signs of you still alive was your little shifts of discomfort paired with frail mumbling, calling out for your loves, as fear worked its way to the front of your mind.
Hurriedly calling Shoko immediately after to meet them at the foothills of Mount Mushiro where the screeching halts of the car's tires skidded to an almost collision at the first torii gate.
The backseat was tainted red as Nanami tossed his stained business jacket aside then undid the buttons of your uniform jacket then tugged up your undershirt enough to show your biggest wound, allowing Shoko to lean over and work.
“What a way to spend my night." She huffed, concentrating as pure white light emanated off her hands and over your wound.
"She's lost a lot of blood already on top of fractured broken bones. And hallucinogenic, auditory ailments are still in effect even when curse has been exorcized." Nanami added, brooding from the added severity of the situation.
"What the hell, L/n?” Shoko heaved heavily, shedding sweat. "That curse's toxins are still in her system. It's making it difficult to fully heal her.” She was able to seal up your side wound though. “That will have to do for now. We need to move her."
"I'll join you all once I park the car." Haibara informed them, quickly leaning over from the driver's seat to kiss Nanami.
Nanami's tender gaze came Haibara's way before he got out of the car, carrying you, carefully treading up the steps, Shoko shutting the car door and hurrying behind him, with Haibara driving off and Nanami's bloody business jacket left discarded on the back seat.
Shoko spent the late night hours repairing your damaged self, collapsing over the metal surgical table from the overtime stress, panting from her energy spent. Blood pumped into a vein on your arm via the cannula connected to the drip. And your shallow breathing toppled with a cold sweat only made her push herself further as she squeezed your hand to keep you as grounded as possible and you continued murmuring the guys names in raspy, pleading whispers.
A harried Nanami patted Shoko's forehead with a clean spare rag lying on a counter while Haibara gave her a water bottle to hydrate.
Coming in and out of consciousness, tugged between horrish illusions and bleak reality, your once weakened pulse grew stronger as Shoko's RCT filled you, pushing the toxins out of your system.
So when you finally awoke, faded scars and bruises dotted your skin, front and back, leaving you groaning weakly as you clutched your pounding head. You felt like a truck had run you over.
"About time you woke up. Those fear toxins should be leaving your system now. But it did make healing you quite taxing for me. We can continue your checkup in the afternoon when we've both rested. But I could really use a drink right now.” Shoko apathetically griped as she carefully pulled the IV out of your arm just to place a cotton ball sticking to a bandage over the small leaking prick.
“Sorry about that, Shoko.” Feeling her gloved hand holding your still sore one, you barely squeezed back. "I failed to exorcize that special grade … I'm sorry I made you all overwork because of my screw-up." Your guilt stricken face struck their hearts.
"Nitta-san made sure the bodies were collected … what was left of them. Just count yourself fortunate that the curse was just dragging it out when I arrived. Never underestimate them." Nanami chastised you at the end, his goggles currently off, sternness laced in his eyes.
"Please … don't tell the guys. It's bad enough I couldn't exorcize it by myself. If they find out, they'll never let me live this down. Satoru especially." You weakly pleaded, struggling to sit up but able to get up on your bum as Haibara pulled you up.
"They'll find out sooner or later. And there'll be hell to pay if you choose to omit it from them. I will not partake in that sort of nonsense." Nanami griped, dreading the world flipped on its axis once your husbands found out.
"They'll never want to leave my side after this! They're already dealing with workloads of missions as is! Adding this to their pillars of stressful shit … I just need to be right as rain ASAP."
"No such thing as stress free in our line of work." Shoko bluntly stated.
"Gojo-san and Geto-san would be heartbroken if you kept this from them." Haibara frowned, personally wounded.
"They'd be even more wrecked that this happened and they weren't there to stop it …" Anxious guilt raked your bones.
A hand plopped into your hair, brushing it gingerly. “Your foolish pride as a sorcerer better be worth it if you're prepared for what will come of this endeavor." Nanami's foreboding didn't stop you from embracing him around his waist, pressing your face in his stomach, humming as Haibara gently hugged you from behind, and Shoko smiled nonetheless at the cute scene, especially at Nanami's sternness lessening and patting your head some more.
Still too out of it to walk on your own, you were pushed out in a wheelchair by Haibara, straight back to the dorms, stating he would stay in the room beside yours in case you needed any aid for the night, needing to head out in the morning alongside Nanami.
Carrying your ruined uniform clothes in the recyclable bag Shoko kept them in, you set them aside as you limped about to change into familiar comfier PJs you kept on hand in your old dorm room closet whenever you had to crash at the school grounds.
Pulling your phone out of the zip lock bag it was kept in thanks to Shoko too, you had seen it was still on.
They had been messaging you all night. Notifications of your group chat popping up on your lock screen.
But you just … felt too ashamed and embarrassed to reply back.
So you turned it off.
Without them smushing you between them tonight, there was no comforting warmth keeping you safe and sound.
And the aftermath of those horrific illusions and their copycats speaking during and post battle still lingered in your memory. Tittering between life and death, you were trapped within your worst nightmare yet.
Their disapproving glares.
Their cold voices.
Turning their backs on you as they walked into the foggy embrace of bloodshed against your voiceless cries and your wavering hand fruitlessly reached out into nothingness.
So going back to sleep was the last thing you wanted.
But even so, being in your old single dorm bed, your quiet sobs swarmed the room, your pent up agony painting your pillow in tears, stewing internally over wanting to suffer your follies alone versus wishing more than anything to have Toru and Sugu embracing you to chase all those bad dreams and fears away like they have always done.
Your phone stayed isolated on the small wooden bedside table, plugged in and charging. In silence.
Meanwhile, in a hotel, nestled in the Saitama prefecture that lies above Tokyo…
"Well, the twins are sleeping. Their mission definitely exhausted them both." Suguru softly informed, returning to his partner's side after checking on the girls in the room across from theirs.
A pouty Satoru groaned miserably, splayed out like a moody pancake across the bed, puppy eyes trained on his phone. "Suguru~! She's not answering me~!”
Now splayed out beside him on their shared hotel bed, Suguru ruffled Satoru's poofy hair. "Perhaps she's sleeping."
"She always answers me though! She didn't even send me a cute kitty gif~! The injustice!" Satoru cried, shoving his phone screen right in his best friend's face.
Suguru pushed Satoru's phone aside, pulled out his own from his sweatpants and sent a heart your way. And yet, it was not even read on your end. His forehead creased with worry. "No response for me either … I do hope nothing bad has happened.”
Satoru slung an arm around Suguru's neck, pulling himself snug against him, frowning vividly. "I miss her."
Suguru plopped his cheek atop Satoru's noggin. "So do I. The sooner we finish here with our own cases, the sooner we can have her in our arms again. Until then," Suguru brushed aside Satoru's snowy bangs to smooch his velvety forehead, tenderly grinning. "We'll just have to keep each other company~"
Now that piqued Satoru's intrigue, cheekily giggling as he rolled them over so the raven head could straddle him. “Nothing wrong with that~”
Suguru quickly turned the side table lamp off before engaging in a long, sensual make out with his smirking mate, whisking the night away.
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
Your new strategy going forward?
Keep your phone off.
Give off the illusion of still being out in the field, doing assignments far off in the distance.
Stay locked up in your old room except for Shoko's treatments and bathroom breaks.
Until you were all patched up; no visually alarming marks blemishing your skin, you wouldn't let any aside from those that already knew find out.
Not your students.
NOT your men.
By the time you had awoken, Haibara had already left as informed. His sticky note he left on your bedside table with morning greetings and hopes to see you soon followed by a scribbled smiley face did turn your frown upside down.
But it meant you were the only one left in the dorm as your throbbing self painstakingly grabbed some long sleeved apparel outta the closet and changed before putting on some slippers. It was fall now, slowly transitioning to winter, so it was the perfect cover up to be snugly dressed.
You had just gotten outside when you noticed the trio heading to the torii gate exit.
Yuji sniffing the air was what alerted you; skidding to a halt as he was literally across from you on the other side of the long stone pathway, turning to eye you with an unpleasant awkwardness. Running over, his nose dove in closer to get a deep long whiff of you to your jitteriness.
He was your best student in terms of enhancing his senses to their peak with cursed energy. And one you cherished like your own pride and joy. Your pure son.
“L/n-sensei … you're injured. And you look restless. Did something happen?” His eyes became glassy saucers.
Your game plan was on the rocks now. Super human senses at work!
“Hey! The sooner we finish our mission from that blindfolded madman, the sooner I can get to shopping! So move it! No offense, sensei!” Nobara snapped out loud, waiting by the gate, curious what was occurring but impatient to wrap things up for her own reasons.
“Cone on Itadori! We're burning daylight!” Megumi coaxed.
“Alright alright, I'm coming!” Yuji's voice then softened for just you two to hear. “Sensei, whatever’s going on, just … take it easy, okay?”
Your heart swelled at his considerate caring nature like the precious boy he is, smiling thankfully. “I will. Thanks.”
“Welcome back.” That genuine smile of relief and joy of Yuji's almost made you tear up; your swelling up heart touched by his words, doing your best to smile through the soreness as you waved at the boy, saluting back to you, joining his friends, and heading off.
You started uncomfortably limping on your way the moment you students were out of eyesight. Shoko met you halfway, presenting a new wheelchair for you to make traversing more easier. “Sorry but Nanami-kun wanted me to remind you to work on your report about last night. We can head to the faculty office first. Besides, you look ready to topple over.”
You internally groaned at the stingy procedures, expected to recount your near death experience down to the last detail; literally occurring just last night, sending a grateful look her way. “What would I do without you, Shoko?”
“Let's just say I'm better off with you in my life … and I know I'm not the only one.” Apathy gave way to relieving passion in her gaze that you looked away to brush your wet eyes. And you both left it at that as she wheeled you the rest of the way.
Flash forward to some time later …
“I can't believe you going gung ho back there cost me my chance to hit up that sale at my new favorite boutique, you boneheaded idiot!” Nobara bit out.
“Okay okay, I get it! Go easy on my shoulder, Kugisaki!” Yuji yelped in pain at how much she was fussing as she and Megumi helped him walk since he took the brunt of the hits in their latest mission.
“Always ready to put yourself on the line for us … we can handle ourselves, you know, doofus.” Megumi was less harsh, making sure not to hit his shin against Yuji's stabbed one; wrapped in the torn sleeve of Yuji's uniform to stop the bleeding.
Yuji noticed the tender gaze his spiky haired friend gave him, smiling in recognition, chuckling sheepishly. “Protective instincts, I guess.”
“Serves you right, idiot.” Though Nobara and Megumi spoke such mocking words, they were softly spoken, still irked but also grateful they're all still standing.
The moment the trio splurged through the morgue door, spotting your bare back littered with bumps and wide slash marks had them faltering as their short beloved teacher and practically mother figure was in this state.
“WHAT THE HELL?!”
Their unified exclaims startled Shoko enough to press too hard on a red welt on your forearm, causing your excruciating shout.
You slapped your palms over your mouth, mortified at legit blowing your cover out loud.
Due to the fact that Shoko at the moment got a sudden phone call while examining you.
From THEM.
“Shoko, what was that?” Suguru demanded.
“Sounds like a wounded animal!” Satoru exclaimed.
“Takes one to know one. I have work to get back to. Bye bye~” Shoko's false perky jab reverts back to her usual demeanor after hanging up on them. “I would say stay hidden until everything settles down but I'd be lying. I know 25 mins away means those two lunatics will floor it by the end of the day. I wish you the best of luck, my dear.” Her sympathetic pat on your shoulder did not calm down those anxious belly butterflies.
“I knew you were hurt but … OKASAN WHO DID THIS TO YOU!?” Yuji's own wounds were forgotten as he scrambled over to you, blubbering out waterfalls, throwing off everyone by legit calling you mom out loud but too overwhelmed to notice right away.
You pulled your shirt back down, flushed in shame. “Special grade got the upper hand on me. Nanami-san saved me. Sorry to have you three see me like this. So please … keep this between us? Please?” You literally prayed for it.
“For my favorite sensei, my lips are sealed.” Nobara assured.
“Geto-sensei may be less hysterical … Gojo-sensei not so much … but those two together … oh God.” Megumi paled up at the reality.
“The calm …” Nobara ominously started.
“Before the shit storm.” Megumi drearily ended.
“Uh, while I'm not a big fan of keeping things from Gojo-sensei, if it's what you want, then I'll do it.” Yuji, skeptical but willing to make you happy, blushed pink as you embraced him loosely due to you still not being at full strength yet.
“Thank you.” You weeped.
Megumi, Nobara and even Shoko joined in on that hug.
Meanwhile, back in Saitama, again, nestled outdoors in front of a patisserie.
“That was suss as hell.” Gojo lowly rumbled, sitting under the umbrella covered table on one end, stuffing his last – now smooshed – Maneki Usagi Manju from his hands straight to his mouth.
“We know that shout all too well …” Geto's eyes teemed with cynicism, sitting across from him, sipping Sayama tea in one hand, his phone in the other.
Their mentality synced, restlessness in their bones, their six senses flaring up with red alerts.
Something did happen to you.
Something big.
Something bad.
With their cases long since finished; not surprising, their leisure time was spent sightseeing, tasting the treats the places they visited had to offer. Meaning more sweets for Gojo to savor. However, his gut along with Geto's twisted at the thought of you in trouble.
“Girls, gather your things. We're heading back now.” Geto firmly spoke while speed dialing Ijichi-san to come pick them up.
The twins, sitting at the table beside theirs, stopped taking selfies of themselves with their cutely decorated drinks at his announcement. “Yes, Papa~!”
Throughout the ride back to the school; Ijichi-san fidgeting and sweating bullets at his seniors stewing in silence, panicked thoughts raced through the duo's minds.
The one constant that kept coming up?
Whatever was going on with you …
They were getting to the bottom of it.
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The sky changed from blue and calm to orange and warm.
Getting healed by Shoko before being ushered out to continue healing you, the trio crashed in the common room slash longue when the sight of Nanako and Mimiko waving and smiling as they entered with bags of gifts and snacks to share and give had the trio beaming at the twins safe return.
However, the sight of their teachers coming round the corner into view, radiating such potent agitated auras, sent the trio's hearts racing in dread.
It spelled the first sign of doom.
Gojo zipped up right to them, a wide ass smile on his face, waving with bags of souvenirs on the other arm, cheerfully greeting them all.
“Oh my precious students~! Your esteemed adoring sensei has returned! And I come bearing gifts for you all! As thanks for a job well done! But on the condition that you answer me truthfully! Do you happen to know what our dear Y/n has been up to as of late~?”
“Nope.” Megumi kept a straight face.
“Nada.” Nobara is the same.
“We know nothing.” Yuji as well.
Their calm blunt responses had Geto narrow his eyes at their stoic behavior, the twins shuffling to him in nervousness at the tense situation, and Gojo's fake smile fell, becoming so straight faced. “Hmm … okay then. Hold these, please and thanks.”
Dropping their bagged gifts into their arms, Gojo warping away was the second sign.
Appearing again before them, with a squirming distressed you in his arms, was the final nail in the coffin.
Gojo hastily set you down, firmly grabbed your sweater sleeve covered hand, and tugged that sleeve up to your shoulder. Even with the blindfold on, you could picture his Six Eyes shrinking to dots at the colorful splotches and littering your once unblemished skin.
“What the hell?” Gojo's shaky raw voice had you gulping.
“How did … when did … Y/n explain yourself!” Geto's perturbed face turned to aggravation.
Keeping your head ducked, you could picture their eyes bearing those same cold, disappointing glazes those curse's nightmares forced you to bear. Your state of panic got triggered!
You wince in pain, trying in vain to tug your hand free of Gojo's iron hold. Warping into the morgue, literally sweeping you off your feet, greeting Shoko, then warping out of the morgue all meant your recovery got cut short.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going!?" Gojo jested, pulling your back against his front, caging you in his hold, knowing to restrain himself on the pressure, gritting his canines at seeing those same colorful marks on the back of your neck. “You better start talking.”
"You mustn't strain yourself any more, either! You can barely walk as is!" Geto irritatedly griped, wrapping his arms around your other one, leaving you wobbling, therefore needing either of them as counterbalance.
"I'll be fine! I'll get better! I'm innocent!" You babbled desperately, wiggling like a worm, to your utter dismay and their annoyance.
Geto narrowed his eyes, downtrodden. "Have you no shame, Y/n? And you three knew about this, didn't you?!” His eyes flared up with scorn as his face whipped to the trio, having all three flinch back at the irritated sight.
“And after all the trouble I went through to get you all gifts!” Gojo dramatically complained.
“Unnecessary to be honest.” Megumi dryly rebuttal.
“My tastes far exceed yours, anyway.” Nobara throwing shade.
“I'll take them all, thank you very much! I felt like telling you Gojo-sensei, I swear! But L/n-sensei was in pain and I just wanted to help her!” Yuji blabbed.
“Softie.” Mimiko and Nanako teased smugly.
“Yuji~!” Gojo weeped.
“I told them to keep quiet. Shoko and Haibara too. Nanami wanted no part in it. It was all my fault!”
Your pleas only riled them up more. Their eyes returned to you, burning intensely, straight into your soul as they cushioned you between their built bodies just like a mating press.
You gasped as Geto's hand slid under your top, his calloused touch sending anxious tingles through you, feeling that tender scar left on your side, lips trembling and eyes wavering. “Honestly believing you could pull the wool over our eyes, dearest? Ridiculous.” Geto belittled.
Gojo scoffed, suddenly frightening as he towered behind you, alarming everyone besides Geto as he pulled down his blindfold to stare down at you now with those glaring Six Eyes. "Screw that. This isn't panning out well for you, darling. Not at all.”
Your weak whines of protest made the teens cringe with pity. Your short self was literally trapped between giants. The atmosphere was so thick with tension that trying to cut it with a knife would mean getting obliterated. GoGe might as well be a bomb.
But to see tears swell up in your e/c eyes and trail down your cheeks, glistening from the guilt, embarrassment and pain, everyone in that room froze in paling realization.
You were the actual bomb.
And you just got set off.
"DON'T HATE ME!"
Your heartbroken scream had the strongest duo become the weakest. Their grips laxing, their tunnel vision eroding, their resolve dusting, as you pulled away freely, tugging your sleeve back down to cover the damage, sat down on the couch to your buckling knees relief, and cried in your tarnished hands, becoming a mess for them all to see.
"L/n-sensei no!!! Please don't cry!!!" Yuji went into a panicked frenzy, squatting down before you, frazzled as you bowed your head against his jacketed shoulder, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to soothe you, sweating bullets at the sight of his once mighty teachers now becoming statues at this turn of events. "None of us hate you! It's okay! Everything's gonna be okay! R–Right guys?!”
"You two are the scum of the Earth, you are! Harassing an injured emotional woman!" Nobara yelled abhorrently in their stunned paled faces, pulling out tissues from her small flowered package she kept in her belt pack along with her cursed tools to offer you. “Here sensei. Take these.”
"I won't blame her if she files for divorce." Megumi gripes under his breath, sitting down beside you, timidly rubbing your back in comforting circles. "L/n-sensei, you need to calm down and rest."
“Geto-sama, do something about this! Mama is a wreck now!” Nanako was willing to put her foot down at this insolence.
“This is depressing.” Mimiko patted your head from behind the couch.
Your desperate need to melt into a puddle and just die from utter disgrace was dashed when you felt Gojo approaching.
His serious blazing eyes spoke for themselves to let him handle you himself, but those kids hesitated letting this slide when the gentle shushing of their usually obnoxious teacher threw them for a loop. Sitting down in the free space on your other side, gently brushing your hair, he leaned in to your ear to confess —
"I'm sorry." You stiffened at his words as they rumbled against your ear. While you were partly miffed and scared due to his attitude, his gentleness returning made you drawn to him all over again, recollecting how much you did miss him — miss them both actually cause OF COURSE YOU DO!!!
Weaving his hand through your hair, he carefully pulled your head to rest against his chest instead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, a shaky vulnerability leaking into his voice. “I'm so sorry.” You dare set down your hands to see his eyes as glittery blue glass. "I shouldn't have snapped like that. I hate seeing you cry like this.” His wandering hand had his fingertips weave through yours to squeeze your hand benignly. “Especially when you're all banged up. I just …”
“I'm deeply sorry as well.” The moment Suguru sat down in Megumi's spot, the kids had already stood back and watched with anticipation as his arms gently hugged your waist from behind, kissing your blotchy cheek, regret radiating on his face. “We both shouldn't have approached you so harshly. We were out of line. We just …”
They were both at a loss for words.
Taking a chance, a risk, a leap of faith, you decide to tell them the truth, rather preferring for them to hear it from you than read it from a document.
“The other night … a special grade curse popped up just when I finished my case … I wanted to prove myself … I thought I could take it on … but Nanami saved me in the end. I was … ashamed … anxious … afraid. It showed me … illusions … nightmares … of you both suffering and abandoning me … and I panicked when you both got upset earlier … I just – !”
“You haven't properly rested at all.” Geto delicately gripped your chin and turned your face to see the dark circles under your now red eyes. “Beloved, you of all people should know that keeping your troubles bottled up inside does no one any good! Least of all hiding your pain from us when we can help!”
“You can't always be there for me … I can't keep weighing you down … but I can't hold my own when it really counts … I'm never gonna be at your level … even as a Grade 1 … by myself … I'm not good enough.” Your eyes squeezed shut, deep seated in this emotional turmoil.
“Yes you are!” The sharp conviction Satoru had made your eyes snap back open. It got your attention attentively. “We still think of them … Kuroi … Amanai … what we could have done differently or better … had we not failed them. If anything happened to you … and if we weren't there to stop it … and it already has … then what the hell’s the point in being the strongest when we can't protect those that matter to us the most?!” You shook as his tears hit your nose, rubbing his wet nose against yours with those beautiful blue eyes now red with compassion looking into yours, for even his watery smile is breathtaking. “You've never been weak. Not to any of us. You kept us together through all the shit thrown our way since that day. I don't need Six Eyes to tell me this truth … that you are the most beautiful, genuine, strongest soul I know you are inside and out.”
“You're the very reason I gathered the courage to reach out to everyone when my resolve wavered … when I lost my way … it's difficult to wear a heartfelt smile in this world …” Sugu's voice slipped for a moment, his almond eyes twinkling as his wet cheek nuzzled yours, pressing a timid kiss to the corner of your lips, another breathtaking smile amiss the waterfalls. “But you brought back my smile. You helped me find a better way … I'm no longer alone. So you don't get to be either. Not anymore.”
Unified, their cracked voices caved.
“We can't lose you too.”
You breathed in their natural scents, submerged in their warmth, coveted in their supportive treasuring embrace, their crying faces resting against either side of your neck, just to be as close to you as possible without hurting you more so than that curse and themselves already have.
In this moment of vulnerability, the strongest duo put down their guards just to show you how immensely you've always mattered to them. Your pain, your sadness, your doubts … they're theirs too.
Your hand that was still being held by Satoru weaved down to rub against Suguru's knuckles, drawing him in to lay his hand atop both yours. “I feel the same way.”
“But damn Y/n, you scared us shitless." Gojo sighed exasperated, now chewing and suckling hungrily on your red cheek just to hear your raspy squeals for their amusement.
"Immensely." Geto hummed conspiratory like, chewing and tugging on your other cheek for good measure, your squeaking making them smirk.
“I'm sorry!” You garbled out, mewling.
Suguru popped off your cheek, pecking it several times apologetically. “We're sorry too. We're just relieved that you're alive.”
Satoru popped off your cheek as well, smooching the welt left in his wake. “Still injured though, but I'll finish healing you myself.”
Catharsis finally came as your waterworks were one of relief. “I missed you both so much~!!!”
"Yosh, yosh~” Satoru doting on you, petting your head like the cutie you will always be in their eyes. “We missed our cutie patootie too~” Now that got you to smile at last, shedding tears of joy, as your chortled laughs made them smile as well.
The kids left you three a while ago when the mushiness kicked in. The twins giggled as Megumi summoned his wolf Shinigami for them to ride on so they could stop pestering him, right before he buried his bashfully blushing face in the crook of Yuji's neck who carried him and Nobara with ease from her own pestering, heading off to do whatever.
Now drained from the mental and emotional trip you went through, all you wanted now was sleep.
And to be honest?
So did the guys.
Your old dorm bed would make do just this once. For old times sake. Warping you three there was easier on an already wiped Gojo, anyway.
Their uniforms, boots, and socks along with your slippers littered the floor.
The AC hummed in the background.
And the drawls of moonlight slipped through the curtains.
Tepid flustered gasps left your parted lips as Satoru sensually trailed his smooth sly hand across every inch of your backside under your top, healing you from that point as you relaxed.
You smothered your face in Satoru's snug black tee covered pecs as he ran his fingers through your hair, languidly brushing it to further soothe you, pecking your forehead. “It wasn't the same without you.”
Suguru carefully splayed on top of you from behind, warmth seeping through his snug white tee and into your cloth covered back, heatedly breathing down your flushed nape as his veiny giant hand caressed your bare tummy underneath your top as well as stroking your thighs with his other hand. “Having you to cuddle again, all snug in between us, truly feels like heaven.”
“No angel to sleep with … oh how did we cope without you~?" Satoru ranted quietly as he could for your sleepy sake.
Suguru gave him a sly smirk. “Satoru~”
Satoru chuckled, ruffling Suguru's loosely free hair, before resting that hand on Suguru's lower back. “Okay, it wasn't bad at all. Even so… can I please just keep us in this moment and never let each other go ever again?” Satoru gently begged.
“As long as I can get some shut eye. And new uniform garbs.” Your cheek nuzzled his chest, consenting in a yawn.
“Deal.” With Six Eyes now switched off, Satoru became heavy-eyed at the sight of his two favorite people in bed with him. Back together again.
“No more bad thoughts for us tonight.” Suguru languorously rumbled in your ear.
“Plus those nightmares will get a kick in the balls if they come back.” Satoru grumbled drowsily.
“If it's a curse, sure. Dreams, not so much.” You mumbled softly.
Satoru could feel your body start to reach the end of its recovery from his healing touch, trailing his hand from your back to cover your hand that rested on the front of his shirt where his heart lay.
Suguru's own hand traversed, resting atop Satoru's, all three splayed on his chest in the same exact spot.
You sagged as you felt the weight of all that battle damage lift right off you, for all the pain got replaced with fuzzy tingling warmth.
Shivering with delight, you felt those two curling in on you from both sides, their legs tangling with yours, as you all smushed in the middle, with Suguru's face against your shoulder and Satoru's in your hair.
“Toru … Sugu … I love you guys.”
Satoru breathed in your scent, smiling drowsily. “We love you too … so damn much.”
"Truly. We'd be lost forever if we never knew you.” Suguru mused languidly.
A tiny smile formed as you succumbed to your long awaited dreamland. “I … feel … the same.”
And the kiddies, poking their heads through the crack in the slide doorway, eyed you snug between those two in just their tees and boxers, your entangled limbed cocoon, the bed comforter halfway touching the floor, as gentle snores and breathing made up your guys personal symphony.
Taking some snapshots for potential blackmail material; basically on Nobara and Megumi's part, they left you three to rest.
Of course, knowing you three, you'll stay in bed all day tomorrow. Whether to sleep, talk, cuddle, make out, do the devil's tango — nah it's all of the above! Meaning no classes.
The weekend is free.
To unwind and reflect.
Your old room feels more homely now that they're there with you.
That night, you’re gifted with cathartic, stress relieving dreams where those two awaited you with smothering embraces and enriching laughter.
Through their tough, imposing, and fierce exteriors …
There lay the true blessings that are their empathy, passion and humanity.
Your chaotically lovestruck sorcerers.
And you, their heaven sent wife, will feel their love till the very end.
And even beyond.
For Infinity.
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aemondsbabe · 9 months
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Into the Woods
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summary: in nature & deepthroating || you just can't resist aemond after he's been riding
pairing: aemond x f!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, public kind of (they’re in the middle of the woods and no one shows up but it’s still public ig???), dirty talk, deepthroating, gagging on a cock, oral sex (m receiving), cum, swallowing cum, brief spitting, crying but it’s good, allusions to oral sex (f receiving), aemond treating vhagar like an oversized housecat, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 1.9k
a/n: happy day six of 12 days of smuff! halfway there!!! i hope y'all enjoy this, frankly, depraved one!
12 days of smuff masterlist!
gif creds to @hoosbandewan!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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“And one more step, sweetling,” Aemond says from behind you, his hands firmly on your waist as he helps you climb down from Vhagar’s enormous saddle. Finally, both of your feet touch the earth once more; you can’t help but let out a relieved sigh, no matter how many times you ride Vhagar with your husband, you’re always thankful to make it to the ground in one piece. “There we are,” he says with a smile, spinning you around and sweetly pressing his lips against yours, “Perfect, as always.” 
Even after so many years together, you still blush at his compliments. “You were right about going riding today,” you admit with a small sigh, thinking back to him finally convincing you to accompany him earlier that morning, “It was absolutely breathtaking as usual.” 
Aemond merely smiles and leans in to kiss your forehead, lilac eye soft as it meets yours, “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, my love.” 
Finally, he turns to Vhagar with a bright smile, the only time he ever smiled fully, with his teeth. “Se ao gōntan rōvēgrie tubī tolī, ñuha gevie riña,” he said brightly, stroking his hands along her rough scales as if he were petting an enormous cat, “Kirimvose, Vhagar.” He whispers, downright reverently, and rests his forehead against her for a moment, as if he were trying to communicate telepathically with the giant beast. (“And you did great today too, my beautiful girl.”) (“Thank you, Vhagar.”)
And for all you know, maybe they are, for it‘s at that moment that Vhagar grumbles contentedly, the pattern of it familiar to you now. She swings her massive head around to sniff Aemond, huffing in a way that sounds pleased, even to you, like she’s just as happy being with him as he is with her. 
Finally, her huge, breathtaking orange eyes fix themselves on you. Your heart leaps in your chest, it always does, and you can’t imagine there will come a day when it doesn’t. Steadying your breath, you lift your arm in the smooth, calm way Aemond showed you many years ago, and extend your hand out. Your breath catches as she leans in and you glance at Aemond, who is still rubbing away at her side and murmuring Valyrian praises, a soft smile on his face. Vhagar huffs as she sniffs your hand, her warm breath fanning over your arm, before another loud purr rumbles through her, evidently pleased with you in some way you’ll never understand, before turning her head back around and resting it against the forest floor, an indication that she’s done for the day. 
Aemond pulls away from her with a sigh, patting her once more before taking your arm and leading you from the massive forest clearing in which the dragon resides. “It’s a pity she’s too large for the Dragonpit,” you say sadly as you and your husband walk hand-in-hand down the narrow, winding path that leads back to the Red Keep, “I hope she doesn’t get lonely out here.” 
Aemond huffs out a small laugh, smiling as he turns his gaze toward you for a second. “Truthfully, I think she likes it out here,” he murmurs thoughtfully, “She needs some solitude, I believe.” 
“She’s very much like her rider in that way,” you smile, bumping your shoulder against his, “Always needing alone time.” 
Aemond is quiet for a second, sinking into that contemplative silence he so often went to after a long day. Just when you’re ready to accept that the rest of the walk back would be done in silence, he speaks again. “Never from you, though, my love.” He says lowly, squeezing your arm a bit tighter as he does. 
You look over at him with a soft smile, the evening sun shining through the canopy of leaves overhead lights his pale hair in a golden halo, making him look every bit as ethereal as the Targaryen’s are rumored to be. 
The light in his hair makes you think back to earlier that day, makes you think of every time you’ve ridden Vhagar with him. You think of how commanding he is on the saddle, how regal and elegant he looks with the breeze blowing through his long hair. How free he looks, how happy. On dragonback is truly where your beautiful husband shines, where he’s most himself. 
It makes a familiar heat burst to life within you. 
Suddenly, you feel nearly dizzy with how badly you need him. How badly you need to please him, to worship him like he’s one of the Gods. 
Unable to contain yourself further, you come to a quick stop before pressing him back against the thick trunk of a tree, catching him so off guard that he has no time to react and lands with a soft thud against the bark. 
“What — ?” He hardly has time to voice the question before you’re pressing your lips against his desperately, letting out a shuddering, high-pitched moan as you press yourself against him. The kiss is more teeth and tongues than anything else, Aemond determined to keep pace with you as he pulls you ever tighter against him, his length already hardening in his leather riding trousers at your eagerness. 
Finally, you pull away from him with a soft, shy smile, teeth biting into your lower lip. “Where in the Seven is this coming from?” Aemond asks, peering at you with amusement. 
“I need you,” you nearly whimper, grabbing at his leather tunic, “Now.” 
His eye widens, glancing around the forest before flicking back to you, “What, here?” You merely nod, and he huffs out a small laugh, “Sweetling, why not wait until we’re back in our —.”
“I can’t,” you sigh, cutting him off yet again as you trail kisses down his jaw and neck, “Need you now.” You murmur before sinking to your knees, though you don’t miss the way his eye darkens as your knees plant themselves against the earth. 
“Fuck,” he mutters, fingers immediately running through your hair, smoothing it out in the way he always does, “My love —.” He starts again, and you can sense the refute coming. 
“Aemond, if I don’t, I fear I’ll die.”
“You’ll die?” He laughs, blushing despite himself, as he cups your cheek gently in one hand, sighing as you lean in and press warm kisses against the outline of his hard cock through his pants, “We definitely don’t want that… get on with it.” He pants, lightly tapping your cheek in a way that makes your eyes flutter, the casual dominance of it sending you into a tailspin. 
Your hands shake with need as you quickly unlace his breeches, your groan almost as loud as his when his hard length springs out, his cock already throbbing and dripping before you even wrap your hand around him. 
You peer up at him through your lashes as you finally grasp his length, whimpering at the way it twitches against your palm. 
Just as you’re about to lean in and lick the tip, he stops you with another gentle tap against your cheek, “Open.” He commands simply, and you blush deeply as you comply, opening your mouth in a perfect O shape as you look up at him. You watch as he gathers spit in his mouth before he leans forward and nearly connects your lips before spitting harshly into your mouth, chuckling at the breathy moan you let out as it settles against your tongue, “Good girl, sweetling.” 
His simple praise is enough to have your center aching and you continue with more determination as you wrap your lips around the head and suck gently, using your hand to stroke his length as you do. 
The effect is instantaneous, a proud heat stirring in your belly as Aemond’s head falls back against the tree, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously as he lets out a gruff moan. His fingers twine through your hair as you begin bobbing your head over his length, slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth, savoring the heavy feeling of him resting against your tongue. 
You focus on breathing through your nose as you take as much of him into your mouth as you can, until your nose rests firmly against the warm skin at the base of his cock. His length swells into your throat, making your eyes water as you look up at him, watching the way his chest heaves as you try not to gag. 
Finally, he looks back down at you and growls low in his chest, resting a hand on the back of your head as you work your mouth over his cock, not enough to push your head down but enough to remind you he’s there. 
You moan around him, one hand braced against one of his thighs while the other comes up to cup his stones, gently kneading them in time with your gags around his length, a few tears streaming down your cheeks as you let him prod at the back of your throat. 
“Gods,” he rasps, sucking in air through his teeth, “You want me to breed that sweet little throat, my love?” He asks, his voice low, nearly menacing, as he gazes down at you, lilac eye almost black enough to match the patch that covers the other one. 
You nod around him as best you can, determined to keep him in the back of your throat until he meets his end and, lucky for you, that doesn’t seem too far off. 
“Sweetling,” he rasps, fingers tightening in the hair at the back of your head as he ruts his hips against you, spearing your mouth somehow further down on his cock, a handful of times before he groans loudly, eye rolling back in his head as his length pulses in the back of your throat, his spend pouring into you. 
Your eyes water as you take all he has to give, fingernails digging into the leather covering his thighs as you swallow around him. Finally, he relaxes and you pull off of him and suck in deep lungfuls of air, coughing a little as you wipe a hand over your mouth. 
Aemond pulls you up to him, cupping your cheeks gently as his thumbs wipe away your tears. “Oh, my sweet girl,” he whispers reverently, eye sweeping over your face as he takes in your flushed cheeks and rosy lips, “You did so well for me.” 
“I always hope to please you, husband,” you say with a soft smile, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips before sighing as he trails kisses down your jaw and throat. 
Before you know what’s happening, he whirls you around, pressing your back against the thick tree where he once was. You open your lips to ask what he’s doing but he silences you with another kiss. 
You gasp as he sinks to his knees in front of you, a mischievous smirk on his face as he pulls up the skirts of your gown. “So well, in fact,” he starts, pressing kisses up the inside of your thigh, “That I think my good girl needs a reward.” 
Any reply you had waiting dies on your lips as a moan escapes you at the first swipe of his deft tongue against your soaked core, your hands tangling in his hair in the same way his had in yours. Yes, you thought as you tilted your head back against the tree, The Targaryen’s are absolutely sent from the heavens.
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Text
Someone New 7
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.
Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor
Note: I am queuing this so who knows if Im still suffering.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
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I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The morning is going splendid. You spilled your coffee and the tea you packed in a thermos, you left on your counter. The realisation doesn’t hit you until you pull up to the site. You huff and hang your head, gripping the steering wheel as you brace yourself for your caffeine withdrawal. 
At least it’s dry. Mostly. As Thor forecast, the rain didn’t come until the night. The steady patter kept you awake, along with that lingering displacement that never quite leaves you. Fatigue is another constant. Your new normal; sleepless nights and sleepy days. 
You get out and set to work. It’s all you can do. It’s all you’ve been doing. Just keep going. It doesn’t matter how, just get it done, get through the day. 
You yawn at your task, brushing digging, oh so gently wiggling the little form. It’s almost out. Almost free. In your eagerness for some progress, you get careless. Your hand slips and the spearhead grazes our palm. Is isn’t until the stinging splits your skin that you realise it’s a slash. 
Damn it, you didn’t put your damned gloves on. 
Great, with the luck you’re having, you’ve just contracted some ancient virus. You hiss and grip your wrist. Your adrenaline triggers your heart. You take a few breaths to stay calm as you watch the blood bead to the surface. 
You curse and stagger to your feet. You grab the rag from your back pocket and clutch it in your injured hand. You grip it tight as you cross the site, careful not to tread to heavily, and you angle the fencing to sidle between two panels.  
You clumsily pull open the car door and reach under the seat. You always keep an emergency with you. It’s a rule of thumb for your sort of work. You never know what might happen. Bug spray, sunscreen, bandages, swabs, a hole trove of supplies. 
You shake as the pain intensifies, thrumming through your palm. You come out and rest the plastic tote on the hood and sift through with your single hand. This is going to be awkward as hell. While you enjoy your solitary, it can sometimes be unsettling. What if something worse happened? 
“Ruff, ruff, rrrrruffffff,” the growlish yet high-pitched barking comes from up the mountain road. 
You pause as he peek under the rag and peer up as gravel mulches. Another visit? Your work is so boring, you wouldn’t expect him again. Thor appears as Thunder hops before him, spastic as she sniffs the ground in circles. He smiles and waves but you can only manage a grimace before you look back to your wound. 
“Morning,” he booms as he scoops up the small dog and nears the other side of the car, “it’ll be a sunny one.” 
“You sure?” You look up at the greyish blue skies, than at him. Hm, the hue of above is rather similar to his eyes.  
“I know so,” he assures you and tilts his head curiously, “why are you so grim?” 
You show him your hand as you lift the cloth from it. He lets out a sympathetic hum and sets Thunder on the ground. She runs over to inspect the fence as he rounds the hood towards you. As he gets closer, his size is even more obvious. He’s well-built, you can see it even at a distance, but up close and personal, he’s almost inhuman in stature. 
“Yikes,” he offers his hand, “may I?” 
“Really, it’s not—I can handle it.” 
“I’m certain you can. Only the bravest woman would come to these grey lands and sit alone in the dirt,” he jokes. “Please, it’ll be easier with two hands.” 
You relent, a tinge of embarrassment hot in your cheeks, and peel the rag away. You hold your hand out to him and he brings one of his large ones to cradle it. Wow. He’s massive. The difference in your hands is startling. 
“Nasty cut,” he muses as he reaches over for the swabs you’ve piled out on the metal, “but it shouldn’t need more than a snug wrap.” 
“Thanks,” you look away, eyeing the dirt as his proximity makes you squirm.  
You can’t remember the last time a man touched you, especially a handsome one. Well, aside from Sam and Bucky but those were just hugs and usually ended in them arguing anyway. You’ve never been the most popular girl in the world and those men you managed to reel in didn’t stay on the hook very long. You never really tried to keep them. You were always too distracted. 
You wince as he wipes the cut with the alcoholic cloth. He softens his touch but holds your hand firm from beneath. He offers a rumbling apology as he focuses on tending to you. His intent is new to you. The way he looks at your palm holds more than any look you’ve ever gotten from a man. Or anyone. 
He crumples up the used wipe and takes another. He’s thorough. You feel a shiver roll through you despite the warmth in the air. He trades the wipe for the roll of gauze and wraps the strip around your hand, hooking over your thumb and looping your wrist. He uses the little metal clip to pin it then turns your hand over, brushing his own over it as he grins. 
“Good as new,” he announces, “though I recommend you not use it too much. And perhaps a pair of gloves.” 
“Yeah, I forgot. Long day.” 
“It’s nine in the morning?” He chuckles. 
“Yep,” you agree dryly. 
“Hopefully it gets better,” he says. 
“Yeah, maybe,” you agree dully and toss the things back in the tote.  
He picks it up before you can and keeps it from your reach, “like I said, you should take it easy.” 
“Well, there’s work to be done,” you say as he moves to the open door and slides the tote inside. “What are you doing back here?” 
“Ah, I let the queen lead the way,” he stands straight and closes the car door. He looks past you and your head perks up. Thunder is very quiet. “As ever, she does not tread with caution.” 
You turn to find the chihuahua inside the fence. You jump in place and sprint over, clattering between the panels as you call after her. “No, no, sweetie, be careful!” 
You chase her around where you were digging as you sense Thor watching from without. Great! You hope she didn’t pee anywhere. 
A sharp whistle pierces the air and Thunder stops. She sits in place, still wiggling, but doesn’t move. You peek back at Thor and he nods. You near her and pick her up. 
“Sorry about her, she is a free spirit,” he tuts as you cross back to him. “I will be certain she does not stray again. My apologies.” 
You’re taken aback by his sincerity. You try to remember the last time someone apologised to you and sounded like they meant it. Hell, when’s the last time you even got an apology. You dip out between the grating and hold out the dog. 
“I would hate to get in your way any more than we already have,” he hugs her with one arm and spreads his other hand over his chest, “we will be on our way. I do hope the sunshine brings some brightness to your day.” 
“Um, thanks,” you shift on your feet and hide your twiddling fingers. “You too.” 
“I’ve already found my sunlight,” he grins even wider and blinks, “now, Thunder, let’s go make a storm somewhere else.” He twists on his heel and lumbers off, “perhaps mother might put up with you for a time.” 
You stand just outside the fence and watch him go. A lock of his golden hair hangs loosely form his bun, dangling down his back, wagging almost like the dog’s little tail. He bounds over the lumpy ground and disappears behind the rock face. You look down and smile. 
Not everything is so bad and you can see the amber ribbon limning the clouds. The sun will be there soon. Just like he promised. 
💟
Thor comes back again. 
It’s a week since you cut your hand. Like before, you can’t predict him. You don’t hear him approach as he’s alone. You only notice him as he clangs something on the fence and lets out an ‘oops’. You pop your head up and look over at him through squinting eyes. Your forehead hurts from the expression. 
You smooth out your face and stand, facing him. He wiggles a metal canister in his hand. The wind sweeps the strands around his square jaw as the sky pulses in shades of gray behind him. 
“Thought you might like some hot tea,” he holds up the thermos. 
“Oh, uh... you didn’t have to...” you look at the sky and its quivering blanket. You’ve been pondering packing up for the last hour. “Thanks.” 
“Not to worry, I was restless.” 
“And you always go walking through the mountains when you’re bored?” You wonder as you step around the markers in the dirt. 
“I live here, there isn’t very much else to do and it isn’t a good day for swimming.” 
“Swimming?” You nod and click your tongue. “Sounds like the life to me.” 
“Mm, it can be rather languid when there isn’t work to do,” he turns the thermos in his hands as he talks, “Have you tried cloudberry?” 
“Cloudberry? Never heard of it.” 
He pokes the thermos between the panels and you take it. He pushes the barrier back into place between you, hooking his fingers into the links. You feel the warmth through the copper-coloured metal. 
“You didn’t have to come all this way for tea,” you laugh. 
“I wanted to ask after your hand. See how it’s healing,” he says. 
“Oh, uh,” you open and close your gloved hand, “just a scab now. I’m all good.” 
He smiles and keeps himself from leaning to heavily as the fence dips towards you. He coughs and realigns his feet, brushing back the looses strands around his face with a flick. He pushes his shoulders back and drops his hand. 
“So uh, you should try the tea. I put together the herbs myself, steeped it...” he bounces on his heels, “I suppose it’s not that impressive but it is good. Antioxidants, anti-inflammatory.” 
“Wow, sounds like one of those superfoods,” you scoffs as you pull of your glove and tuck it into your work belt. You untwist the cap and steam wisps out. You smell the tea and blow over it. You look up and find him watching you. “You’re starting to make me nervous, what’s in it?” 
“Just tea,” he assures. “I can’t lie to you, though. It wasn’t my idea. My mother suggested it. She’s very interested to see what you’re digging up but I’m afraid she can’t do much at the moment.” 
“Oh, your mother? Is she sick?” 
“She is in perfect health aside from her dislocated knee. She went rock climbing and well, accidents happen, eh?” 
“Yeah, sure do,” you show him your cut. “But they get better.” 
A lull rises as you take a dainty sip. The tartness tweaks your cheeks and you scrunch up your nose. 
“You don’t like it?” 
“It’s... different but not bad,” you say. “So, your parents live up here too?” 
“Mm, yes. I’m afraid I’m occupying their attic at the moment. I sold my home in Oslo, it was much too... cold.” 
You can’t help but snort, “it’s Norway.” 
“Ah, so it is. I should be used to it,” he agrees. “And how are you faring here? Have you adjusted to these dour lands?” 
“Eh, I’m trying,” you put the lid back on and turn it until tight. “Thanks for the tea.” 
“My pleasure,” he assures you. “Seems lonely work.” 
“I don’t mind it,” you shrug and cross your arms, tucking the thermos beneath one arm. 
“Interesting though. Have you found very much?” 
“Ugh, a spearhead and some pieces of the shaft. A vase, cracked though. Some beads.” 
“Beads,” he echoes thoughtfully, “is this all confidential?” 
“Not really, you wanna see?” 
“Very much so,” he says. 
“Right, uh, let me just...” 
You go back to where you were sat and plant the thermos in the dirt. You scurry around, overly aware of his observation, and go to the pin of your catalogued items. You find the bone beads and brings the little dish of them over to the fence. You hold them up as he peers between the links. 
“They have runes,” he intones. 
“Yeah, I’ve got the meaning of all of them except, er...” you pull out the single bead made of jade, “this one.” 
He hums and considers it closely, leaning in. 
“Not a rune. That’s a family symbol.” 
“Oh?” 
“My family’s.” 
“Wow, uh,” you lower your chin, “that’s... I... kinda feel like a thief.” 
“Can’t have cared very much about it if it’s down there,” he remarks, “you know, my father has mapped out much of our genealogy. As much as he can. He might be able to assist with your research, if he can find the time. Bit of a hermit these days.” 
“Oh, uh maybe, I’d hate to bother,” you smile sheepishly, “erm...” you look around, “where’s Thunder? Awful quiet without her.” 
“She’s keeping mother company. I’ve told her not to be too much of an imp, can’t have her making it worse,” he shakes his head. “The two of them are both stubborn as the other.” 
You can’t help the twitch in your eye. All this talk of your family has you suddenly homesick. You fight not to crack and swallow tightly. 
“Anyway, thanks again for the tea.” 
“Your parents must miss you,” he says abruptly. 
“Erm, yeah, my mom calls now and then but she’s better as an empty nester. Dad’s got his head under a hood most days so...” 
“Friends? Boyfriend?” He wonders. 
You arch a brow. He’s not very subtle and yet his inquiry can’t be anything but innocent, right? You’re still strangers. He can’t be into you. Not someone who looks like him. How long did you pray for Steve to even see you like that? This man is definitely not going to. 
“Friends. Sam likes to pester me when I should be sleeping and Bucky... they’re funny.” You sniff and gaze past him. You won’t mention that giant elephant in your head. The one you think about at night. 
“Lots to miss back home, it sounds like,” he breaks the silence before it can settle. 
“Yeah, but not every day you get to travel.” 
“And to a beautiful land,” Thor declares, “I hope one day you’ll come out of the dirt and see more of it. You’ll be surprised what lays further up the mountain.” 
You smile and look down, “yeah, maybe one day.” 
“Until then,” he backs up on his heel, “I won’t distract you any further. Enjoy your tea.” He turns and strides away, pausing halfway as you linger by the fence, “the rain will be here around five so I would leave early, otherwise you’ll be driving through it.” 
“Right,” your chest deflates just a little. You don’t know what you wanted him to say but you’re disappointed, “thanks.” 
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Reverse trope prompt: too many beds
tf 141 x reader
SFW - no warnings except for profanity
Full prompt list here by @out-of-jams
Please like, tag, reblog to show the list creator some love if you use the prompts.
Divider by: @saradika-graphics
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It felt weird lying in your own bed again.
After spending months holed up in safe houses, huddled together in the field to keep warm or crammed together during transport, you'd become accustomed to having at least one of your team with you while you slept.
You huff, roll over and will yourself to go to sleep. Minutes creep by. Sleep still eludes you.
Maybe it's the quiet that's getting to you, or the absence of their warmth. Or it could be that you miss that sense of security, having a solid, living body lying next to you. Whatever it is, your brain refuses to shut off without it.
You hate to admit it, but you can't get to sleep without the guys.
Crazy as it seems, you miss Gaz burying his cold nose in the nape of your neck, listening to him make those funny little nuck-nuck noises in his sleep.
You miss Ghost's twitching, and how he holds on tight to your hand after he's had one of his nightmares. He won't let go, either, not even after he falls back to sleep.
You miss the way Price sprawls out. At least one of his heavy limbs will end up flung over you at some point, the weight solid and reassuring. You might even miss his snoring, at least until you can't stand it anymore and have to poke him in the ribs to get him to turn over. He always flops back over within minutes and starts snoring again.
Hell, you even miss Soap's sweaty koala bear hugs and sleep talking in Gaelic. The man literally never shuts his bloody gob, not even while sleeping. As annoying as it is, it's also kind of endearing.
Frustrated, you give up and throw back the covers, getting out of your bunk. Wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, you quietly slip out into the hall and head for the rec room. Maybe a warm cuppa of Ghost's earl grey that he keeps stashed in the back of the cupboard will help.
You come up short as soon as you step through the door. Ghost is sitting alone on the sectional sofa, leaned back in the corner watching sports highlights on the telly.
"What're ya doin' up?" he grumbles.
"Can't sleep."
He grunts then motions for you to join him. You slump down next to him and lean into his side, tucking your legs beside you. After a few minutes of soaking in his warmth, you feel your eyes start to droop. It must be having a similar effect on him, because you feel his body go slack, then a minute later, he twitches. You glance up to see that his head's fallen back against the cushions, eyes closed.
You're almost asleep when Gaz wanders into the room. He smirks as he climbs over the back of the couch, wedging himself in behind you. "'M cold," he complains, snuggling in. "Place is like a bloody freezer." He burrows under the blanket with you and buries his cold nose in the back of your hair. "Smell better since ya showered," he teases, making you both snicker.
"Oi," Ghost rumbles out, not bothering to open his eyes. " You two, shuddup."
Gaz breathes out a laugh then goes quiet.
The captain comes ambling into the room on sock feet, wearing a ratty looking robe. He sniffs in amusement at the three of you piled up together. "Well, don't you lot look cozy," he quips, sprawling out in the opposite corner. He throws his legs up beside Gaz. "Make room, Sergeant."
Gaz shuffles around then cuddles back under the blanket. Price crosses his arms over his chest and turns his attention to the telly. His first snore rolls out five minutes later.
"Fuckin' hell," Ghost groans.
Finally, Soap comes shuffling through the door, bleary-eyed, his mohawk sticking out every which way. He jams his fists on his hips, a peevish look on his face. "Ye hens havin' a slumber party an' dinnae invite me?"
Ghost huffs, irritated, and lifts his head to glare at him. The captain snorts, smacks his lips, then picks up snoring where he left off. Gaz pokes his head up to hiss a "Shh!" at Soap.
"Jaysus, sorry. Dinnae mean t'disturb yer beauty sleep, m'laird."
"You're disturbed, ya wanker," Gaz mumbles before nuzzling back into your hair.
"Christ, jus' shuddup an' siddown, Johnny," Ghost growls lowly.
Soap rounds the end of the sectional and plops down next to Ghost, grinning. "Fancy a snuggle, LT?"
"No."
Soap sniffs, pouting until Ghost sighs and jerks his head in a quick nod. "C'mon, then."
Scooting closer, Soap rests his cheek on Ghost's shoulder. "Yer comfy, LT. I could get used t'this."
Ghost rolls his eyes. "Shut yer gob an' go t'sleep, Sergeant."
"Aye, sir," Soap murmurs and settles in.
Price grunts, scratches at his beard, then turns on his side. The snoring stops. Ghost hums and sinks deeper into the cushions. You can hear Gaz now making soft little nuck-nuck sounds behind you. The sound lulls you to sleep.
Some time later, you feel Ghost jerk awake. His hand fumbles under the blanket until he finds yours. You squeeze his fingers, Soap on his other side, murmuring something softly in Gaelic. Ghost eases back into the cushions, his tense body relaxing.
You breathe out a sigh, let your eyes drift shut and immediately fall back to sleep.
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Better Man - Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
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Better Man - Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
Content : angst, fluff, friends to lovers, jealousy, sexual tension
Word Count : 2.4k
Summary : Anthony must rectify his rakish ways and wed, but he has a lot to think over if he doesn’t want to lose his dearest friend forever. 
A/N : I’ve been reading/watching Bridgerton again, so I had to write for my lovely Anthony. As always, pls like and reblog if you enjoy! 
Anthony raised his glass to his lips as he watched the rest of the “eligible young ladies” at the ball circle him, grateful for your presence at his side. 
“My, my. It is almost as if you are a vulture's prey.” You tease, fixing a delicate button on the wrist of your perfectly crisp, white glove. 
Anthony snorts at your comment. “Please, my lady. Vultures are much more interesting than the ladies circling my person.” He pauses, looking down at you fiddling with your button. He reaches out gently, “If I may,” he mutters quietly, reaching out to fix the offender. An electric jolt passes through you, and you have to keep your eyes on your glove to resist the urge to pull away quickly. You did not wish him to know how you felt about him. 
“Thank you, my lord.” You respond, nodding your head politely and giving him a small smile. He regards you for a moment before bowing and offering you his hand. 
“May I have this dance?” 
“I suppose.” You say, taking on a teasing tone again. Anthony outright smiles at this, leading you to the ballroom floor. It always came easy to dance with you, Anthony realized. It was as if you both could read each other’s next movements perfectly. After all, you had been friends since you were wee babes, crawling through the Bridgertons’ lush garden. You regard him slightly before saying “Have you found a suitable wife yet, Anthony?”
Anthony’s dark eyes settle on yours, and he has to keep from swallowing thickly. Something about the way you settled all of your attention on him had always made him nervous, always making his heart beat a bit too fast. “No.” he says quietly. “None of them are suitable. This is not to be a love match, strictly business, but I cannot imagine any of the women here as my life partner.” He looks down at you again, unable to read the look on your face for the first time in what felt like quite a while. 
“Well.” You say. “On my front I do not have any prospects. No one seems to wish to marry me.” 
“Why would that be?” Anthony questions, too quickly, he thinks. 
“It may have something to do with the fact that we seem to be attached at the hip at every ball we happen to grace with our presence.”
We. Anthony wants to shiver at that word, thinking about you being attached to him was too good to be true. You were much too good for a rake such as himself. His eyebrows knit together and he tilts his head slightly. “Should I leave you here amongst all these people on the ballroom floor?” Now he took on a teasing tone, secretly satisfied that he can pull an eyeroll or annoyed look from your otherwise prim and proper stature. 
You do roll your eyes, shaking your head at him slightly. “You leave me on this dancefloor by myself and I have no doubts even the most boring high society lady here would turn their nose up at you.” You pretend to sniff, as if your feelings were hurt. “And to think, I was under the impression you were my dearest friend.” 
Anthony dips you slightly as the song draws to a close. The vanilla perfume wafting from your exposed neck and up to him. It’s intoxicating to him and he rights the two of you quickly, clearing his throat as he steps back. “I thank you rather kindly for the dance, my lady.” You nod to him, watching as he walks away with a broad step. 
You furrow your brows, wondering why his attitude had changed suddenly, when you are approached by Lord Nikolai Andros, who asks you for a dance. You smile at him graciously, pleasantly surprised that he had approached you, and you would be able to dance with someone other than Anthony for once. 
Dancing with Anthony just made your feelings all the stronger, and you did not know how much longer you could endure being his dearest friend. You curtsy to Lord Andros, following gracefully as he spins you across the ballroom. You wondered idly why he so suddenly expressed an interest to dance with you, but it was exciting to dance with someone else. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if your dance card was to be filled by Anthony Bridgerton and Anthony Bridgerton alone. 
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From across the ballroom, Anthony had his hands clenched at his sides, watching Andros spin you across the ballroom. You were much too good for Andros, and if he was a rake, Andros was a bigger one, known for not being particularly faithful to his late wife. 
Benedict slides up next to Anthony, following his gaze. “I say, is that Andros?” 
“Yes.” Anthony replies, voice clipped and tight. 
“Hm.” Benedict huffs, “She seems to be rather enjoying herself, wouldn’t you say, brother?” 
“It would appear so, yes, Benedict.” Anthony replies, trying to keep his voice from sounding too strained. 
Benedict smirked. “Yourself, however..” clamping his mouth shut with an innocent shrug when Anthony gives him a look suggesting he could kill. However, Benedict continues on, nudging his brother’s shoulder. “You love her.” 
Anthony opens his mouth, then closes it again, his perfect jaw set in anger, denial, or perhaps both. He shakes his head at Benedict, as if to say not here. He knows he has to be a better man for you, but the thought is too painful to bear at the moment, while you spin across the floor in another man’s arms. 
Benedict raises his hands slightly as he backs away from his brother, nodding his head in your direction again, where you were curtsying to Andros. Anthony feels heat rise in his chest as Andros maintains eye contact with you, and before he can comprehend what he’s doing, he strides back over to you. 
“My lady, would you like to promenade with some of the other young men and women in the garden? They have taken to admiring the rose bushes.” Anthony doesn’t wait for an answer before he gently grasps your elbow and steers you towards the open doors to the garden. Both of you pretend not to feel the butterflies that appear when the two of you touch. 
“Anthony, whatever are you doing?” You half whisper. “You did not even acknowledge Lord Andros.” 
Anthony leans in and whispers, almost harsh with you. “You cannot court that man.” 
You stop walking, pulling your arm out of his grasp. “I do not believe you are the authority on that matter, Lord Bridgerton.” 
“Do not use my title because you are vexed at me, little bird.” Anthony says, his childhood nickname for you slipping from his lips effortlessly. You narrow your eyes at him, and he knows that this is you demanding an explanation. He licks his lips and glances around at the other ball guests milling about. None of them seem any the wiser of the tiff the two of you were beginning to have. 
“I will stand here for as long as I possibly can. This overprotective nature is not unlike you, but you have never outright sought me out to tell me to not court a gentleman.” 
Anthony sighs, starting to become frustrated. “He..is of the rakish variety.”
You snort. 
Anthony’s perplexed eyes meet yours and you shrug. “And you are not, Anthony?” 
“He is worse. He had many a mistress while his wife was ill in their marriage bed.” 
You grimace and Anthony nods almost smugly. “See. You are much too good for a man like that.” 
“If I am much too good, why am I yet to be wed?”
“I…” Anthony starts, faltering over his words. He had no answer. 
You step closer to him, your voice low. “I will tell you the reason. It is because of you.” 
Anthony swallows, looking down at you. You are much closer to him than he usually allowed himself to be, and your intoxicating scent and god, the way the light in your eyes trapped him made him more than nervous. “Me?” he questions. 
“Yes, Anthony. You. Every person in the ton believes me to belong to you. They pity me. Oh poor girl,” You start to mock, affecting your tone “that Lord Bridgerton is just stringing her along.” Your nostrils flare. “However, here you are, deciding to marry, using me as a pawn to get these most delightful young ladies to leave you alone.” You feel tears starting to sting your eyes, the hurt of not being the object of Anthony’s affections threatening to spill over. “I am not willing to be your pawn any longer, Anthony.” 
Anthony watches your face, devastated as he realizes that you feel the same longing for him as he feels for you. “Little bird, I-”
You hold up a hand. “No. I do not wish to hear what you have to say to me any longer. It is time I retire, anyhow. Goodnight, Lord Bridgerton.” You say, turning on your heel quickly, just as hot tears begin to flow down your cheeks. Rushing out to your carriage, you ignore your mother, choosing to spend the ride home in heartbreaking silence. Your mother says nothing, just clasps your hand gently, which makes you cry all the more. 
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The next morning, Anthony is pacing in his study, wondering if he should call on you. Would you even want to see him? Should he just leave you be? Would it be better to give up everything the two of you shared so he did not cause you such pain again? 
Before Anthony can make up his mind, you walk through the door to his study. His back is turned to you, and you can hear him audibly sigh. 
“Benedict, I truly do not have the mind to-” He stops as he turns around, mouth dry. There you stood, a beautiful pale purple dress accentuating the very air of loveliness that seemed to follow you wherever you went. 
“Hello, Anthony.” You say quietly, watching as he fumbles, setting his bourbon glass down shakily and coming around the front of his desk. 
“You have given up calling me Lord Bridgerton, then?” He asks, his voice sounding strangely strained. 
“Yes. I apologize for being cross with you yesterday evening. I just..” You pause, and Anthony takes this as his opportunity to come toward you. He comes close, looking down at you with his beautiful dark eyes. 
“What is it?” He asks, afraid of what your answer may be. He was expecting you to tell him that you never wished to see him again, and he would have to accept that and let go of you. He desperately prayed that you did not come to lock him out of your life forever. 
“I have fallen in love with you, Anthony. I know how you feel about love, because of your father. But I cannot sit by idly while you look for a wife that is not me. I am going to court Lord Andros, and you will have to accept that, because I cannot allow you to look over me, when all I have wanted for as long as I can remember is the reciprocation of my feelings from you.” 
Anthony stood there, shocked beyond belief. You did feel the same way about him. He was not making up the pained look you had on your face at the ball the previous night. He felt as if someone had reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart, and he could hear his ears ringing. He did not know what to say. 
“I will take my leave from you.” You say, turning and making your way back to the large oak study door. 
Suddenly, Anthony snaps out of his stupor. “No!” He almost yells, quickly moving to place his hand on the door, barring you from opening it. This is the closest the two of you have been in quite a while. Your bodice touching his chest, his nose almost touching yours. You inhale sharply, gazing up at him. “Let me explain my wretched behavior darling, but please do not take your leave of me.” Anthony pleads, his voice dripping with desperation. Taken aback, you give him a tiny nod, still mesmerized by the proximity in which the two of you stood. 
Anthony glances at the door, then to your face, and then he gently brings his hands up to cradle your face. Your eyes widen, and his brows furrow. 
“I…”He bites his bottom lip, his eyes flicking to your lips before sighing. “I long for you. I long for your attention. I cannot sleep without thinking of you. I cannot read a book or discuss politics without thinking of what you may say or how you may react. I long for your company when I awake in the morning and long after I have gone to bed. My soul desperately aches for you as if you are a piece missing from it. Seeing you with Andros solidified this feeling for me even more. Watching another man take your hand in his…I could have sobbed at the sight of it. You haunt every part of my being and I cannot deny it any longer.” 
“Anthony…” You breathe out, eyes roaming his beautiful face. 
“I love you. I love you, I love you.” He says, bringing his face closer to yours each time he says it. “I am terrified of love, my little bird, but I love you so deeply that if you will have me, I will spend the rest of my days cherishing you.” He breathes out, as if he had been holding in a breath, and he leans his forehead against yours gently. 
You reach up, using a finger to smooth the furrow in his brow. “I love you most ardently, Anthony Bridgerton.”
Anthony is so relieved, he leans in and captures your lips in his without thinking clearly. Worried he may have made a mistake kissing you before you were to be wed, he tries to pull away. 
You grab his lapel and keep him close, smiling into his lips. 
“Marry me.” He breathes out, running a finger along your bottom lip after you’ve pulled back from him. 
“The answer has always been yes.” You whisper back, gazing at him lovingly. Anthony grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead, cherishing the feeling of having you in his arms. He cannot wait for you to be by his side for the years to come. He hums contentedly, hugging you as he should have done so very long ago.
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thecatchat · 10 months
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Ace the bat hound becomes a ghost dog because he's such a good boy and dedicated to justice. Inspired off of this post here.
But, instead of being found out by Danny, it's the batfam's usual mystic contacts, like Constantine, that discover and reunite Ace and the Bats. Constantine muttering about how annoyingly resilient the particular brand of ghost is. From the infinite realms, Ghosts from there are a headache and a half to get rid of but portals, information, and really anything about it is far and few between since no one's been able to get into contact since some fight a couple centuries ago (Dark being sealed away). Justice Leauge Dark promises to let the family know if they hear anything or find any relevant information about the Infinite Realms, but since literally nothing has been heard from them in so long, no one really knows anything off the top of their head about it.
While Ace is technically supposed to be hidden away at home, he ends up sneaking along one day to help deal with Joker after the clown kidnaps Nightwing and/or Robin (Damian). The photos and videos of the event are blurry and smudged, but word of mouth gets around, and soon, the entirety of Gotham is celebrating the return of Bat Hound the Ghost, the very good boy back from the grave.
Meanwhile, things are going great for the family, just having Ace back makes everyone feel just a bit better (because Ace is a full ghost with a core and is helping to filter the currupt ectoplasm called Lazarus Water with physical touch). Jason is over more often and enjoys flopping on the couch with Ace for a quick snooze, Dick is over the moon to fight with Ace by his side again, Damian makes sure Ace is properly introduced to the rest of the animals that live at the mansion, Tim actually falls asleep semi-regularly now after Ace starts bothering him about being awake, and everyone else is reaping the benefits of having a bat trained dog that seems to be able to sniff out when they need a dog to pet.
Then these guys in white show up.
Ace had seemingly been on edge all night and when it was time to turn in for the night and let Signal come out for the day, Ace follows along, not listening to any command to stay home. Some of the others stay ready in the cave but they let Signal and Ace go out with the promise to call the moment something big happens.
Now, up until then, Ace's powers had been tallied up to: intangibility, invisibility, and occasional hovering/heightened jump. Every other exercise responded out as normal dog (except for the whole being dead thing). Maybe slightly higher emotional intelligence, but some dogs are just Like That. Through some tests, they do find that Ace has a new found hatred of Lazarus Water, but they don't find any obvious weakness that isn't a banishment spell which is as worrying as it is a relief.
So when these white suits start shooting using guns that glow the same green as Ace in Signals' vision and the shoots hit? Ace yelps in pain before seemingly barking out some kind of energy ball? And barreling into a wall so hard it cracked from another shot? Every single alarm that Signal can think to trip gets set off.
But not before one of the suits (one of the many suits, they're terrible fighters but there's just so many of them and two of them) takes out something that looks like a thermos and points it at Ace.
Within a second, Ace is gone.
Signal is so shocked he almost gets hit himself by the dozens of shots of energy blasts now aimed at him. He can't get to the white van in time before it speeds off.
----
I'm going to end this part here. I'm going to continue this in the reblogs but I also want people to take a crack at this story themselves! If you're inspired by this please put your thoughts or stories in the reblogs or tags!
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jilixthinker · 10 months
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perfect baby
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=͟͟͞♡ felix × fem!reader
=͟͟͞♡ long hair felix devotion
word count: 1.2K
content warning: smut, explicit sexual content, sub!felix, dom!fem reader, established relationship, mommy kink, subspace, overstimulation, baby talk, kitten talk, cock play, balls slapping (just once), hair pulling, dacryphilia, cum eating, felix and reader are in love, felix is just a baby
=͟͟͞♡ please consider reblogging if you like my works!
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Lixie has been a whimpering mess for more than two hours now, rutting endlessly against the rough fabric of the mattress as the only stimulation you can let him have. Breathy moans muffled by the pillow under his head while his swollen cock is wetting the sheet underneath, angry purple and oversensitive after the third or was it the fourth? orgasm he had.
"What's going on baby? Is it too much for you?" you coo condescendingly. "But you said you could keep going for mommy, right? You would never disappoint me".
Felix keeps rubbing himself in small circles, quickly puffing air out of his opened mouth. A dribble of saliva forming a tiny bubble at the corner of his bottom lip.
"N-no mommy, Lixie can - ah, mh - Lixie s' a good boy, he can - mh - Lixie c-can keep going".
You look down and he is just gorgeous, all pretty and spread for you, lips red, eyes glossy and trembling legs. You lower your hand, pressing your fingers on the soft fat of the back of his thigh before slapping him lightly on his cheeks.
"Ass up baby. Be a good kitten for mommy, okay?"
Felix nods frantically, readjusting himself on his hands and knees, legs shaking a bit for being relieved and denied of the painful pleasure at the same time.
"M-mommy, 'm sorry".
Your hand caresses the small of his back, surpassing his round butt and resting in between his thighs, flicking your fingers agains his balls.
"Sorry about what, angel?"
Felix cries a little when you gently roll one of his balls in your hand, still hot and wet from his previous orgasm.
"I-i can't cum anymore, ah - mommy made Lixie cum so much, I c-cannot, there's no... ah AH - there is nothing left", and he sniffs painfully, "L-lixie's dry".
You slap the back of his swollen balls and he lets out the sweetest sound, cock twitching for the slight pain.
"I don't think so Lixie, I bet my baby boy has still something for me inside him. And you know mommy wants everything, right? Every little drop is hers to have, not yours."
You scoop forward with your arm and you wrap your right hand around his cock, not worring about jerking him off but just stimulating his spongy head, all red and puffy. You press your index against his slit and felix nearly screams, knees trembling and thighs shaking.
"Aw baby... too much? You don't wanna be mommy's pretty toy anymore?"
With the other arm which is not torturing him you grab a handful of his long hair, blonde and silky, almost comically angelic in contrast with the image of the boy beneath you. You wrap your hand around a long lock and you suddenly pull, Felix's head harshly pulled back exposing his milky neck.
"N-NO! Lixie is mommy's doll, ah - jus' wanna make mommy happy but is, mh - is s' much... b-but I can take it. I can".
You pull his hair more. Now his back is completely arched, perky butt shaking and blooming with red marks all over his freckled skin.
"I guessed that. My sweet precious boy. Lixie is gonna give me all of his sweet cum, isn't he? All his warm cum until he coats mommy's hand. And then mommy's gonna make him lick it clean, because that's what good kittens do".
You start to circle fastly your wrist around his tip, obscene squelching noises filling the room while felix begins to properly cry his eyes out.
"M-mommy ah - please - it h-hurts, mh - Lixie is... it's, oh god ah - s'good, it's so good".
His hands eventually give up, leaving him on his elbows, face squished on the mattress while you keep rubbing the palm of your hand against the head of his cock, scratching it lightly with your nails and making him mewl and squirm so much you think he is gonna pass out. But you know him, you have known him for years now, and that's what he likes, to be reduced to a mess, your silly toy to play with.
"Maybe I am being too harsh with you angel. maybe mommy is being too mean with his baby boy. Does Lixie want to stop?" you ask him pretending to be worried. "Mommy can stop now and leave you like this if that's what you want".
Felix nearly screams again at your words, falling completely for your facade.
"N-no mommy!! No please, n-no, don't stop ah - Lixie wanna give you everything. Mommy's s-so good and nice.. mommy's the b-best for Lixie".
You smile and let his hair free, gripping his hips instead to try steading him, the poor boy so wrecked and lost into his subspace that he cannot stay still anymore. With the hand in between his legs you start pumping his cock fast and hard, feeling his balls slapping at the base with every stroke.
"That's my baby. Always so perfect for his mommy. Now I want you to let go and be a good boy for me. You need to cum on mommy's hand. I don't want a few drops, okay? I want to to cover all my fingers. And after you lick them, if you'll be good, I will push the rest in my pussy and let you watch. Does it sound nice, Lixie?"
Felix is just babbling at this point, not a single thought in his empty head, just pleasure mixed with pain and that warm and sticky feeling of being utterly yours. His only desire is to be good for you, to accomplish every desire of yours and being praised for doing that.
"Oh mommy please please please - oh god oh AH ah mmmh - mommy please, Lixie's gonna cum, please please ah - imma c-cum real hard ah!"
You lower your head and lick a fat stripe on the skin of his right cheek, stroking your hand fast on the soft spot just under the tip of his cock. You bite his milky skin one more time and that's it for him, he is sobbing and cumming on your fingers. Hot spurts of pearly cum cover all your hand, warm and creamy, while he finally breathes all of the pleasure out of himself, collapsing on the bed immediately after.
"S' good, mommy, I love you... Lixie loves you so much", he blurts softly before wrapping his swollen lips around your fingers and sucking all the cum in his mouth, moaning and lapping it until you are completely clean.
You bring your other hand to stroke gently his hair, combing his locks and lying next to him, before hugging him tight. Felix snuggles against your chest, still panting a little and nuzzling his head on your breasts.
"I love you too baby. You did so well for me, you are always so good. I love you so much, you cannot even know".
You kiss the top of his head, hot and sweaty, while whispering loving words to him until you can feel the regular breathing sound of him falling asleep.
"My sweet angel", you puff quietly while you watch him rest with the most content and pleasured espression on his face.
He really is your perfect baby.
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©️ jilixthinker, 2023. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.
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yuvany · 2 months
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౨ৎ PLEASE DON'T CRY
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What do they do when you feel overwhelmed with emotion? ;;;
pairing : enhypen hyung line x fmr ;; w.c : ~ 100/character ;; warning(s) : minor angst + fluff/comfort + not proofread!
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 does his best. He asks if you need something, and he asks how he can help. He feels just as upset as you just by looking at your saddened state. Heeseung sees you curled up on the couch, hugging your knees close as you sniff and weep in silence. Heeseung approaches you slowly with caution in his steps, his hand snakes its way around your shoulders, causing you to look up at him. He doesn't ask what caused you to be so sad, so he sits with you in silence until you're ready to tell him what happened while running his fingers along your back to comfort you. "It's alright, princess. Cry it out." He whispers, pulling you onto his lap.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 frowns, knowing something, or someone had made you sad. He approaches your quivering state with a calm exterior, seating himself beside you. His warmer palm heats your spine, spreading a comforting feeling through your chest. You halt for a moment to look up at him, being met with his kind eyes causes you to burst in tears once more. He immediately hugs you close to his chest while muttering just the right words for you to ease the tension. "Do you mind telling me what happened, lovely?"
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 panics, immediately rushing over to you. He sprouts questions left and right, "do you want water?" "What happened? Why are you crying?" Poor guy is stressed, but calms down sooner or later. Brings you paper tissues and a glass of water without you having you request it. Wipes your tears with his thumb gliding along your cheekbones, and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, hoping for your mood to enlighten. Be ready for a cuddle session after.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 is shocked when he hears your cries. He is unsure what to do, but he does what he can. Sunghoon awkwardly scoots closer to you after entering your room when he heard soft sobs. "Babe, what happened?" His voice is gentle when he speaks, his eyes holding nothing but gentleness. You choke out a response, and he is quick to embrace you in a soothing hug, letting your tears stain his shoulder, but he doesn't mind, his priority right now is for you to be comfortable. He feels your breathing stabilise, and the room become silent when your cries come to a halt. "Feeling better, hun?"
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Reblogs are much appreciated ! No spam liking as it shadow bans me,
Layout credits to @flwrstqr
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 6 months
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Hunger
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Pairing: Dark Dabi x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female Reader
SUMMARY: Leaving you with an empty stomach is the first step for Dabi’s plan to break you. 
WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping; Starvation; Manipulation.
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
Finally entering the Bnha fandom. Give me more ideas, pls, a girl doesn't know what to write :)
You wince at the pain that blossoms in your middle.
Your stomach far too tired to growl properly, having resigned to prolonged painful pangs - a pitiful form of begging to which you can’t answer. Your whole body feels weak, no strength left in your limbs aside from a dizzy mind that keeps drifting away.  
You can’t even remember when was the last time you ate something - courtesy from Dabi. He is a vindictive asshole, you knew that from the start.
Wasn't that the reason you got yourself kidnapped? Your constant refusal to his advances snapping him off enough to kidnap you.
But you didn’t think he’d make you starve for days as retaliation for all the yelling and shouting the nastiest insults you could find at the black-haired man. 
You’d kill for a single bite of that delicious crusty pizza you ate that one time. Or that mouth-watering hamburger that so often appears in television advertisements.
Just the memory of food has your stomach hurting even more and you curl your arms around your body in the bed, feeling yourself getting weaker by the minute. 
As time tediously drags by, you fall into a light slumber, wincing at the regular stomach aches. 
The faint noise of the apartment door opening barely means anything to you, however the subtle aroma of warm food that reaches your nose triggers your eyes open. 
It floats through the small apartment, the smell of delicious cuisine bringing water to your dry mouth and you gulp. Are you dreaming?
Footsteps and the chickling of plates is all your ears catch and it doesn’t take long before Dabi appears at the door, holding a plastic tupperware.
“Wakey wakey, sweetheart. Look what I got here.”
You sniff, head rising fragilely and your stomach growls loudly. Dabi chuckles at that, stepping closer to you.
“Looks like someone is hungry.” he opens the container and you almost choke when the luscious smell of seasoned food hits your nostrils. 
One of your hands unconsciously raises, fingers greedily reaching for the tupperware but Dabi is quick in moving it away from your reach, placing it on the floor behind him, knowing there’s no way for you to reach it given the heavy chain attached to your ankle. 
“Now, now, sweetheart, where are your manners?” 
“I’m hungry…” your weak voice brings a feline smile on Dabi’s voice, features twisting with pleasure at the hunger in your face, your cheeks slightly sunken with malnutrition.
“Not so strong now, are we? What happened? Got yourself into a diet?” he maliciously retorts. 
He slowly sits at the edge of the bed, blue eyes attentive to your reaction but you offer him none.
You’re too tired, too hungry to put up with him. The pit in your belly only worsens with each second and you’re about to beg Dabi when his hand reaches for your face, tenderly caressing your cheek. 
The momentaneous satisfaction in his disfigured face is broken into irritation when you recoil, pulling your face away from him, avoiding his touch.
His fingers harden into an angry fist and he scowls for a moment before forcing himself to calm down. 
“Always an ungrateful brat, aren’t you? An ungrateful stupid brat.” his eyes get colder as he glares at you. “Never able to appreciate all the things I do for you, huh? Always so-”
He stops, shaking his head before straightening his back and then he smiles - a wicked terrifying smile that has you forgetting about your devastating hunger - as he shrugs his shoulders. 
“Nah, but you know what? Brats don’t deserve to eat anyways.” he shakes some invisible dust off his long jacket, sighing as he starts to stand up,
“Well, guess I’m just gonna eat all that delicious food all by myself since I got no one to share it with. I even bought those delicious crispy chips you liked so much, but oh well.” 
You blink, panic and hunger bubbling in your body as you hopelessly reach for the cloth of his jacket. 
“No, Dabi, please!” you cry out, swallowing the last of your pride and honor as you beg, and he slowly sits back on the bed, “I’m sorry, okay? Please…”
His jaw twitches with enjoyment and the corner of his lips curl. 
“Yeah, is that so? Little brat wants to be a good girl now?” 
You nod eagerly despite the knot that tightens in your heart, but you can’t afford to think about any of this. You have to eat. 
“You sure about that? I’m not forcing you or anything, right?” 
The irony of his words would make you roll your eyes if you had the energy for such.
“Then say it. Loud and clear, so there’s no doubt left.”
“I-” you lose track of the words at the sight of his electrifying blue eyes, “I want to be a good girl.”
“Then you can start by acting like a good girl. Come here.” he taps his lap, his hand latching onto your wrist and you don’t resist when Dabi softly tugs you towards him.
A whimper escapes you when your frail muscles are forced to move using the last of your scarce energies but at the end you find yourself perched on top of Dabi’s lap, one leg awkwardly bent while the other lays straight, the chain on your ankle fully stretched.
His arms waste no time wrapping themselves around your waist, your arms getting caught in the way. He nuzzles into your neck, humming in delight despite the obvious tension in your body
“Are you sure you want to be fed? Cause you sure don’t seem very enthusiastic.” his dab is enough to snap you out of your transe and you turn your face towards him, pressing a small kiss to his cheek, cringing when your lips touch the cold staples. 
“That’s better.” he opens into a wide smile. “Wasn’t so hard, after all, huh?”
The rumble from your stomach has you wincing. “Can I eat now?” 
Dabi doesn’t mind you, too busy peppering kisses over the expanse of your shoulder.
“Dabi?”
“Hum, maybe in a while.” he winks at you, and you feel sick to your stomach despite having eaten nothing.
“I need to make sure that my good girl doesn’t turn bad.”
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mlm-writer · 1 year
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Pairing:  Omega Dick Grayson x Alpha Male Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 1506 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 1 - Last day of an omega’s heat and their alpha is TIRED Note: Woo it is octoberrrr Tags: established relationship, creampie/breeding, knotting, overstimulation, off-screen consented somnophilia, blacking out, riding and aftercare bath
Your name was sung from the bedroom, the sweet tone not giving you the warmth it usually did. “Wait a moment!” You called back as you added some cold milk to your steaming coffee. You gave it a good swirl and took a sip. Once you had determined it would not burn your throat to a crisp, you chugged the pint as fast as you could. 
“Alpha,” your husband whined as he came over to stand in the doorway to the kitchen. You sighed. You loved him so much, but his heats were long. Dick was fine at the moment, just still unbelievably horny and cranking up the AC to fight the furnace his hormones turned his body into. 
“I’m coming,” you sighed as you put the beer glass into the sink. You had barely turned around when your omega cornered you against the sink. His nose was in your neck, taking deep sniffs, burying itself into your scent glands. “I can’t believe you’re out here walking around after we just fucked for hours,” you whined as you draped your arms over Dick and rested your body against him.
Dick had started peppering your neck in kisses. His pheromones were keeping you from just tapping out and calling a service. This wasn’t the first time you spent Dick’s heat together, but each time you forgot how Dick’s stamina was far greater than your own. “I just can’t get enough of you,” Dick purred as he started leading you out of the kitchen. You followed him back to the bedroom. The whole room smelled of sweat and sex, empty 2 litre water bottles scattering the floor, along with dirty towels, clothes and wet wipes that have long since dried out. “Just lie back, alpha, I got it from here,” Dick mused as he pushed you onto the dirty sheets. You couldn’t care less, you were still dirty from your last romp anyway. 
You hadn’t bothered putting on clothes while you had gone for your coffee break. It gave your partner free access to your limp cock resting against your thigh. Dick didn’t waste time putting it in his mouth. You expected him to make quick work of getting you hard again, but he just lied there, face buried in your pelvis as he suckled on your soft cock. You let out a sigh, thankful for the gentle and slow start. You reached down, running your fingers through Dick’s hair while he brought you gentle pleasure. 
Your body relaxed. Warmth all around you. The mattress dipped nicely. You pulled a pillow down to rest your head on and… yeah you dozed off. You didn’t know for how long, but when consciousness found you again, the first sight that greeted you was Dick deepthroating you, his spit encasing your cock and dripping down your balls. He looked at you, teary eyed, and smiled with his mouth full of cock when your eyes looked back at him. The omega pulled off and wiped his glistening lips. “Looks like my alpha is ready to go,” he joked as he shifted. You registered about three words of that, but the meaning of whatever he said was of no importance as you felt his wet hole slide down on you. He was hot inside, the heat almost scorching you. 
A long whine left your lips as you let your head fall onto the pillow below your head. Filthy words of praise left Dick’s mouth as he panted on your cock, riding it like he had been waiting on it for ages. You were exhausted beyond imagination, but somehow you were hard as a rock and even bucking up into your omega. Dick used you like a dildo, not thinking about your pleasure at all as he grinded his hole down on you, while stimulating himself with a hand between his spread open legs. “Slow down, please, I am not going to last long like this,” you panted, lifting your head to behold the epitome of lewdness. 
Dick had his eyes closed, mouth open to let out the moans that bubbled up from where he found himself in heaven. “Yes, please, knot me again,” he begged, body moving rapidly like he had an undepletable source of energy. He did the exact opposite of what you asked, desperately seeking that which scratched the itch of his instinctual needs. “Please, alpha, please,” he almost screamed, lost in the pleasure of being filled and the hunger for more. He needn’t beg. You were at his mercy, at the mercy of his heat. 
You tried to think of unsexy things, determined to hold on a little longer, but your mind drifted to Dick sucking your cock while you had a little nap. You were bound to fall asleep on him again some time soon and you hoped he would continue to use your body like he had before. It was a train of thought you should not have entertained; the tension in your abdomen snapped and you pulled Dick down onto your quickly-swelling knot. Relief washed over you as you groaned and pumped another load into your mate. Dick howled, lost in the pleasure as he kept riding you. What started as a nice milking, quickly turned into torture. The man on top of you did not stop. He kept riding your knot, his hole so stretched that it almost slipped out with every lift of his hips. “More, more, more,” he begged, hands landing on your chest. His face hung over yours, his tongue slipping out as his eyes crossed. You tried to hold him still, but his hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. 
You struggled in his grip, but there was no energy left in you and Dick was not exactly your typical frail omega. You begged him to stop, to not stop, to… Anything. Your words met his ears, but never reached his mind, brain too fogged up on pleasure to register a single word coming from you. Miracles still existed when you found yourself orgasm again. Your body went slack, giving up and just taking it. Dick has been fucked so much the past few days, he could lift himself off your knot and then force it back inside. You barely registered the mess he was making on your torso. Pleas wanted to make themselves known, but you could only scream while you swimmed in the ocean of pleasure and pain. 
Did you cum again? You had no idea. At some point, things went black. You never saw the way Dick did not even realise you had blacked out from the overstimulation. You never saw him cum on your cock over and over until it wasn’t hard enough to ride anymore. You never saw him rub himself all over your thigh, getting off on your skin again, humping you like a dog. You never saw him watch your sleeping body while he fisted himself to give himself the feeling of being knotted. The only thing that reached you were his repeated cries of your name that influenced your dreams. 
When the morning light reached through the crack in the curtains to touch your face, you woke with a pounding headache and a mouth as dry as a lesbian at a sausage party. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes, vision a little blurry for a moment. You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking around the room. There was a bit of water left, but the bottle was at the other side of the room. Your eyes scanned the room, anxiety growing within you when you did not see your partner anywhere. “Dick?” You called out, voice rough. 
“Bath!” A reply came from the distance. You let out a sigh of relief, climbing off the bed to get to the water bottle. You chugged the last bit as you almost limped to the bathroom. The small room was filled with the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. You could see the steam come off the hot water in the tub, but your lover seemed unbothered by the heat. When he saw you, he reached down to pull the plug. You waited as Dick let the bath empty a little, before turning on the cold tap. When he deemed the bath at a suitable temperature for you, you joined him, the water splashing over the side, but neither of you mentioned it. 
“It’s still hot!” You complained as you settled with your back against Dick’s chest. Your omega chuckled and wrapped his arms around your middle, holding you against him, while you let the hot water relax your exhausted body. 
“This is as cold as I am willing to go and you know it.” You hummed in reply, closing your eyes, ears now finally able to notice the soft jazz that echoed off the bathroom tiles. “Don’t sleep. I will make you breakfast once I can stand straight again.” You didn’t hear him say it, already snoozing in that overheated bathtub. 
—————
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