#speechless and in awe of her

[a-big-chicken-nerd]

round soft body. big soulful eyes. relaxed attitude. calming aura. this right here my friends is the only thing that matters. dont even bother thinking about anything else ever again

[velvetjune]

Spoilers for Alan Wake/Control games and DLCs: one of the things I really like in Alan Wake 2 is the confirmation that, no, Alan can’t create something out of nothing. There were implications in-story that supported that, but it was good to have that be a big part in the sequel. The AWE control dlc easily made it seem like Alan himself had a role in the events of the game and the formation of the FBC, and, personally, seeing it through that lens cheapened a lot of the game and Jesse’s story. Instead, having his writing influence the Hiss and try to manipulate (even out of desperation) Jesse/the FBC to end Hartman and get help, fit right into plot and conflicts of Alan Wake 2, with Alan being sympathetic, but also an asshole for trying to change and control people’s lives in his writing.

[tieflingbi]

:)

[glitter-oracle]

DICK SO GOOD IT REORDERED THE FORCE AND THE UNIVERSE

Dove

Part 2 of 2 of The Locked Door Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.7K i apologize for NOTHING

Warnings: DUBCON ELEMENTS, SMUUUUUUT, religion kink, virgin kink, authority kink, degradation kink, praise kink, age gap, ohhhhh the list goes on y’all been here long enough

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time im sorry

***

Obi-Wan feels like he’s going to be sick.

Dinner in the grand hall was difficult enough, forking down mouthfuls of expensive food he’s sure was absolutely marvelous, if he could’ve tasted it.  The s’Ziscari clearly splurged on the celebrations—expensive food, expensive decor, expensive everything, down to the silk napkin he studied and fiddled with under the table as he awkwardly waited for you to finish your plate.

He felt uncomfortable, absolutely.  He’s felt uncomfortable ever since he shuffled into this blasted, Maker forsaken robe not long after he left your quarters earlier.

Not black, no.  Not like yours.  Not like what appears to be an overwhelmingly vast majority of the people he’s encountered so far this dreadful evening.

No, his robes are blue.

Seguir leyendo

[reinemichele]

Translation here

Turning round and round, The revolving scarlet windmill 《Moulin Rouge》 Makes beautiful flowers bloom. Swinging up and falling down, The dancing bloodstained windmill 《Moulin Rouge》 Makes beautiful flowers scatter... At the utter mercy of destiny, The boy who laments his helpless role Will eventually desire 『power』... Is what he seeks...   A 『shield』 that defends against the powerful? Or is it... a 『sword』 that attacks to quell the mighty? I don't really understand what happened... The howling melody of lunacy 《lune harmonie》...  Nor the scorching Taste of dead flesh 《Saveur》 of meat... I don't really understand what attacked...  But I figured... just one thing...  That it's not safe here... I'll take my most important treasure 《thing》 And make a run for it →  And so, I grabbed your hand... Ah... Without understanding why, The two of us made our escape, Running until out of breath As they chased after us, a deluge of raging desire...  As if following a trail of stardust… Leading into a forest Submerged in darkness... The two of us were shaking,  Gasping for breath, not understanding why.  Fearing the flood of despair,  We held onto each other tightly— Suddenly your body and limbs are flung into the air → Your eyes, frozen in terror ←  Searing into my back as I ran away... Passing through a season 《time》 of lunacy...  The boy's 《time》 is thrust into a state of flux. Turning round and round,  The revolving scarlet windmill 《Moulin Rouge》 Releases a scorching instant 《time》. Swinging up and falling down, The dancing bloodstained windmill 《Moulin Rouge》  Captures a frozen moment 《time》. Ah... if we are to be born again… Let us make a small flower bloom. Forgive me... next time, I won't run away...  I'll scatter with dignity by your side... 《Moulin Rouge...!》

"Could there be a Roman here...?"

[monstersflashlight]

Imagining a night creature with a reader who's afraid of the dark

Hi! I like that. This made me think of the monster under the bed I answered a few days ago (find it here). Also, when you sent this I already had a semi-planned story with a girl in a dark street (find it here). But I also got some inspo for this. The idea of the reader being afraid of the dark and the monsters lurking there… What she doesn’t know is that the monsters there don’t want to hurt her, just tease her little human body. This is sweeter than I normally write, but I hope you like it!

Sleeping in the dark

Night monster x fem!reader || Stalking, overstimulation, forced orgasms

You were always afraid of the dark. You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you didn’t feel anxiety creeping in the back of your neck every time a street was too dark, your curtains a bit too closed… Some people laughed about it, saying you weren’t a kid anymore, a grown woman shouldn’t be scared of the dark. But you couldn’t fight your fears, it was beyond your control.

That’s why you got a little lamp, always turned on so you could sleep better. Just knowing you weren’t in complete darkness, even in your sleep, made you feel a bit better. But you weren’t a lucky person, so when you woke in the middle of the night and the lamp was turned off, your anxiety picked with full force. Tears ran down your face instantly, your breath coming in fast exhales, almost hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey. Calm down.” A voice came from inside your closet, making you scream as a dark figure opened the door and stepped out. “Shhh, stop! I’m not here to hurt you.” He tried, but you opened your mouth to scream again. He crossed the room in two fast steps and covered your mouth with a hand as big as your whole face. “I’m trying to help, but you need to stop screaming. Are you going to scream if I let go?” You shook your head, tears rolling down your face.

“Aw, little human, don’t cry.” He pleaded, his voice soft as you felt his weight sitting down on the bed. You moved away, scared.

“The- the dark. It’s so dark.” You hiccuped between sobs. “Can you turn on the lights?” You asked, already knowing his answer.

“The dark is okay. I like the dark. You aren’t ready to see me, yet.” He told you. You didn’t know if you wanted to see him either. You were scared enough, but his presence was weirdly calming.

“Who are you?” You asked then, equal parts scared and curious. He didn’t answer, silence making you wanna tear up again. “Am I dreaming?” You asked, more to yourself than to him.

“No, you are not.” He answered, his voice closer than you expected, like he was right next to you.

You jumped back, almost falling down. “Are you a monster?”

He sighed, like the weight of the world was over him. “Some call me that, yeah.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” You didn’t know why you asked, he could hurt you if he wanted, and you couldn’t do shit about it. But you felt calm, like his presence was okay. Some primal part inside of you trusted him, and as naive as it was, you did. You trusted the shadows in front of you, the dark figure that you couldn't even see.

“No, little human. I would never hurt you. But I can help you.” His voice was so soft that you relaxed completely, your body giving away all the tension, leaving you feeling dizzy.

That picked your interest. “Help me how?”

“I can distract you from the fear.” The innuendo on his voice was more than clear.

But you asked anyway: “Ho- how?” Your voice broke down as you tried to be brave, tried to make sense of the mixed feelings inside of you.

“Can I touch you, little human?” You nodded. You couldn’t see his face, but you guessed he could see yours if he told you not to cry. A hand touched your knee, traveling up and up. The flimsy dress you were wearing was put aside as his hand touched the hem of your panties. “Is this okay?” You nodded, speechless.

You couldn’t comprehend why you were so pliant to his touch, but you just knew. You knew he was telling the truth, he didn’t want to hurt you. He pulled your panties aside, exposing your pussy to the air. A shiver ran down your spine as his pointy fingers touched your clit.

“I saw you touch this tiny pearl so many times… You looked so happy when you did.” He told you, rubbing your clit in the exact same way you did. “I’ve been watching you for so long. I studied your every move.” He pushed a finger inside of you, curving it to hit the perfect place. “It pained me to see you touch yourself and not being able to help. To be the one giving you pleasure. But now… Now I can, little human.” The idea of him watching you jerk off making your pussy tingle, convulsing against the finger inside of you. “You like that? You like knowing I was watching? You are a little pervert.” He laughed softly. You blushed.

His fingers were so much longer than yours, almost as long as your biggest dildo, but not so thick. He finger fucked you for a bit, humming and cooing at your reactions. Like you were a cute puppy doing a new trick, amazed when you cried out and repeating the move over and over as you came.

When you calmed down, he asked: “Can I fuck you, little human?” His fingers were still inside of you, rubbing softly, not trying to fuck you, just resting inside.

“Yes.” You choked out as he took his fingers out and felt his weight setting over you. He positioned himself and started pushing in slowly. “You… It feels weird.” You whispered, he chuckled. “My dick is not like the human ones. I have… ridges.” He pushed further, the aforementioned ridges rubbing against your walls and making you moan. “Do they please you?” You tried to answer, but the only sound that escaped your lips was a broken moan. He took that as a yes and started fucking you, slow but deep.

It wasn’t enough. “Faster. Harder.” You pleaded. He complied, setting a fast pace that made your boobs bounce up and down, almost hitting your chin. His hands on your hips were going to bruise, but you didn’t care. He had the perfect dick, even better than the tentacle dildo you always used.

Before you knew it, you were falling apart around him, his dick twitching as he came, too. But he didn’t stop, his dick still hard inside of you. He waited for a few seconds and started fucking you again. You didn’t know how he could keep fucking, how his dick was still hard, but you wanted to thank whoever created him for giving him that stamina. He fucked you over and over, for what felt like hours.

After what felt like a hundred orgasms, maybe they were, your oversensitive clit felt raw. Your pussy felt used and abused, but the pleasure was still there, almost painful. He kept asking you to come again, to let him feel your pussy contracting around him. To let him fill you again. And again. And again.

“I can’t anymore. Please…” You begged. You came so many times you lost count.

“Just one more, little human. One more and I’ll stop.” He told you, his pace not flattering for even a second.

You felt tears running down your face. “I can’t.” You choked out, your body spent. But he kept going. He rubbed your clit furiously, using his come as lube. Your last orgasm was pushed out of you, he forced you to come around his dick, almost to the point of pain. You cried as you came, so sensitive and tired… He wiped the tears away as he buried himself deep and came again, adding to your overflowing pussy.

He pulled out slowly and disappeared. Appearing seconds later with a warm cloth to clean some of the mess between your thighs.

“Would you stay?” You whispered, grabbing around his wrist still cleaning you up.

“Sure thing, little human.” He whispered back, his body curling around yours two seconds later.

For the first time in your life, you slept in the dark, a monster guarding you.

Part 2 can be found here.

[thinkinonsense]

WICKED

old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: cheating, heavy flirting, smut, kinda dark

authors note: i have no idea what came over me and i cannot explain it. also! gif credit to the amazing n talented @silverskyeline <333

he never should've gone to the bar. never should've let you run your pretty mouth. most definitely never should've bought you that martini. every weekend he watches you seduce the men at the bar until one of them falls into your trap.

logan would scoff, mumbling something under his breath about how stupid that bastard must be. despite the fact that the only thing holding him back from your advances was the thick gold band on his finger, reminding him of where his loyalty should be.

"lovely seeing you here again, logan."

he loathed your wicked smile and how your voice sounded like rain fall. trying his best to avoid staring into the eye of the storm but your presence demanded to be seen. practically ripping his hazel gaze off the wooden table and over to that tiny dress you were wearing. dark navy tight against your skin in a way that could make any man sin.

"missed ya' last weekend." you purr. "where were you at?"

"home." he states, gruffly.

"that's boring. why were you at home?"

"wedding anniversary."

the words made your tummy flip with excitement. you didn’t know much about logan outside of his favorite brands of alcohol, but you did know that he had a wife at home. he never mentioned her by name. sometimes, she would call the bar if it was “too late” for him to be out but other than that, she was a ghost.

“cute. you should bring her here one weekend.” you propose, almost making logan choke on his whisky. “bet she would love to see where you run and hide at night.”

“it’s not her kinda scene.” he responds.

“aw, i’m sure we would be friends.”

“doubtful.”

“and why’s that?” you fake pout.

logan leans in close before whispering, “don’t think she would appreciate you beggin’ for her husband to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom every weekend.”

“i didn’t say we would stay friends.” you giggle, making his cock stir in his work pants. “also, the invite is still open if you miss fuckin’ someone younger.”

the second you are out of sight, off in the pool room next door annoying some other asshole, he groans under his breath. logan hated how well you read him. you knew he wanted you but you were smart enough to make him come crawling to you if he wanted to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him.

after a couple minutes, a few men left the room and logan got up to take their place. when he walked inside he saw it was empty except for you sitting in one of the chairs on your phone.

“glad you decided to join me.” you smile up at him.

logan ignores you instead going over to get a stick and start playing. you finish your martini and join him as he sets up the balls. catching you off guard, he tosses you a stick too.

“if i win, you leave me alone for good.” he huffs in your face.

“sure but what do i get when i win?” you smirk.

logan ignores your question and growls, “ladies first.”

it's dead silent as you bend over the pool table to line your stick up to the diamond. logan's far too busy staring at the wet spot on your light blue panties. he never admit it, even if you knew for sure that's where his eyes were. it wasn't until he lost sight of the spot that he realized you already took your shot.

"your turn, old man." you tease, moving out of his way.

the two of you go back and forth for a bit but you were growing tired of this game. instead you decided to make things even more interesting.

"so when i win, are you going to finally fuck me?" your bluntness always left logan speechless.

"you already know the answer to that, sweetheart." he replies, trying to focus before shooting.

"sure, blah, blah, blah, something wife." you mock with an eye roll that almost made logan chuckle. "but seriously? when was the last time you two had sex? you probably got cobwebs in there."

that got a small smirk out of him. one that you count as a win.

"it's just a band. it comes off, see?" you lean over and take the ring off of his finger, placing it on the table.

logan stared at it for too long. feeling the distance of his commitments. you turn his head towards you with a light hook on his grey bearded chin. the lust in his eyes told you that you had won.

"you know what else comes off that easily?" you whisper, lips inches from his. "my panties."

a good man would've walked away. a good man would've returned home to his wife. but logan wasn't a good man. never had been and never would be.

an animalistic urge fell over him, grabbing you with the ease of a rag doll and bending you over the pool table. the wedding band was inches from your parted lips, moaning prettily as logan spread you open with his thumbs and licked a wide strip up your cunt, burying his face in your arousal and letting it coat his beard until he could only taste you.

"f-fuck me." logan groans, pulling back to catch his breath. "taste better than i imagined."

"knew you wanted me." you smirk, feeling his middle finger circle your entrance before pushing in. a loud moan is pulled from your throat as he hits that spongey spot with ease.

"weren't lying 'bout being tight." logan marvels, watching the way you suck in his finger.

he attempts to push in his ring finger as well and you wish you could've seen his face while he struggle to get it in. quickly, you reach for the wedding ring next to you then grab his hand from inside you. fumbling to get the ring back on him before he questions you.

"what are you—"

"go on." you coax, looking back at him with dark eyes. "try it now."

logan shouldn't have been so turned on from the image of his wedding ring coated in your slick; but here he was watching it disappear and reappear inside of you.

"right—fuck! r-right there..." you pant, arching farther back to meet his thrusts.

"does it turn you on being a homewreaker?" logan asks, back up on his feet and nibbling at your ear. "knowing that you have a old married man fucking you with his wedding band on?"

"mhm..." you mumble against the table. he takes the opportunity to pick up his pace, feeling you clench down. "d-don't stop..."

within seconds, your gushing around his fingers and dripping down his hand. right when he pulled out of you, you turn around and push him back into one of the plush chairs to undo his belt. falling to your knees, you begin to stroke him, tracing his veins with your tongue and tapping the tip on it.

"always knew you had quite the mouth on ya', princess." he grunts with a fist full of your hair.

you smile, taking him all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat and the hairs at his base tickled your nose. logan was finding it harder and harder to control his animalistic urge while your gagging and drooling all over his lap. quickly, you release him with a pop and stand up to straddle him, lining him up to your entrance and sinking down slowly.

"shit, you're so fucking tight." he says, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

"only for you, logan." you whine, grinding down on him, rocking back and forth.

roughly, logan pulls the rest of your dress off of you, throwing it on the floor somewhere behind you. large hands touching you all over in ways you've only dreamt of. meanwhile, your attacking his neck like a madwoman. biting and marking him up like he's yours.

desperately, logan fucks up into you, needing more. his tip nudges that sweet spot within you, making you moan loudly in his ear, encouraging him to go faster. so focused on the squealing of your soaked pussy. he captures your lips, kissing you tenderly. you can feel his high approaching, twitching inside of you, and you needed to do one last thing before it hit him.

carefully you pull away, gripping his chin and pulling him face to face with you. his eyes are blown out with desire as he stares at you.

"tell me your mine, lo." you whisper against his lips.

logan can feel you clench tightly around him, waiting for him to give into you completely. he presses his thumb down on your button, moving in fast circles to get you there with him.

"f-fuck, i'm yours, baby." he moans, coating your walls with spurts of his release. "i'm yours."

"t-that's right." you moan, kissing him roughly as your high washes over you.

"you look so pretty like this." he coos, watching the pleasure run over you.

for a moment the two of you sit still, trying to catch your breath. logan's mind races, not meaning to cum inside of you but it's far too late now.

"lets keep this a secret between the two of us, huh?" he says while you play with his hand, mischievously. before he can notice, you pocket the ring.

"sure thing, baby." you reply. "i'll gladly be your little secret but have fun explaining those marks to the old ball and chain."

logan looks down at you and that wicked smile of yours, only to realize just how fucked he is.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon’s heart was racing, a sheen layer of sweat covering his body as he slowly made his way up his driveway.

Your car was there as it always was when he came home but instead of bringing Simon peace, it made him more nervous than he’d ever been.

He found himself pausing at the door, his trembling hand hovering over the handle as he steadied his breathing. He knew when he opened that door, his entire life would change.

When he left for deployment, you were 7 months pregnant. Now here he was, nearly three months later, about to meet his child for the very first time.

He regretted more than anything, not being there for you when you needed him most. While you were giving birth, he was half a world away, and he felt so incredibly guilty for it. He knew you were strong, he knew you could handle yourself, but that didn’t ease the self loathing thoughts that swirled in his brain.

Closing his eyes, he took one final deep breath before sliding off his mask and entering the house.

“Sweetheart, I’m home.” He called out, setting his belongings on the floor. He slowly made his way into the living area, his hands still shaking from before.

“Hey, handsome.” You greeted, a warm smile on your face as you turned and stood from your spot on the couch. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Simon felt his breath leave his lungs as he took in the sight before him. There, nestled in the love of his life’s arms, was a baby girl. HIS baby girl.

“Simon, this is Y/D/N.” You spoke, your tone gentle. You walked up to him slowly, and leaned in a way that Simon could get a better look at his child.

His brain went numb as he took in every little feature of his daughter, a whirlwind of emotions hitting him at once. “She’s…she’s..she’s beautiful, Y/N.”

You felt tears pooling in your eyes as you watched your husband be rendered speechless. The way he was looking at his little girl had your heart soaring. There was nothing but unyielding admiration, and awe in his eyes. “Do you want to hold her?”

Simon’s breath hitched in his throat as he nodded curtly. He watched as you walked up to him, gently placing the infant in his arms. As he held her, the entire world around him seemed to slow, and the only thing in the world was just him and his little girl.

He held his daughter as if she were made of glass, not daring to move a muscle as he admired her. He began to notice small bits of himself in her, the dark brown of her eyes, the soft curve of her small nose. Never did Simon think anything that came from HIM would ever be so….perfect.

Simon had never felt a love like this before. As his daughter smiled up at him, Simon made a silent vow that he would do absolutely anything in his power to keep that smile on her face for as long as he lived.

“Thank you.” Simon whispered, smiling down at the newborn. Her small hand wrapped around his pinky, causing Simon’s eyes to pool with tears. She was so, so small compared to him.

“For what?” You asked, as Simon pulled you closely into his side.

“For giving me the family I never knew I wanted.”

[jellyfishsthings]

The five times you left Spencer speechless (or how I like to call it, in quiet awe)

Warnings: reader wears glasses but no biggie, reader can fight and use a gun because why not, bau!reader, smitten Spence, nothing happens just feelz, Spence's drug addiction... I think that it

1. The first meeting

It had been a long week. People were crowding the small space of the bullpen. It had been the first case after Gideon's return, and Spencer had been buzzing with excitement to work with his mentor again. The case hadn't been particularly easy, and almost one agent named Elle Greenaway had been lightly injured, who would from now on work with them. His eyes were burning, and he gave into the temptation to wear his glasses as he looked into the nearly filled report in front of him, containing at least seventeen pages worth of information. Madame Strauss claimed that his reports were unnecessarily detailed, how that was a problem he couldn't tell. The hours seemed to blur together as he continued writing his report, losing many minutes trying to form his handwriting into something more presentable.

That was the moment. The time he first laid eyes on her. He had read many romance novels, which he wasn't going to admit, that the moment someone met the one, time seemed to slow to near non-existent and his reality at the moment seemed like something coming out of a book.

She was wearing a chunky white pullover with huge sleeves that strangely represented bells and a light brown plaited skirt that reached just at the middle of her thighs. Long legs that seemed to be going on for miles ended at a pair of black Mary Jane's. And sure, her appearance was incredible, but that was not what made him make a double take. He was sure he was hallucinating as he saw the most beautiful face he had seen in his life, looking as if it was something that came out of a Renaissance painting. Her hair was in a braid resting on her shoulder, and wire-framed glasses sat on her nose, making her eyes appear slightly bigger. A tattered pair of wired headphones framed her face, and for a second, Spencer forgot how to breathe, the most cognitive function, the one he had been able to do since he first entered this world. His ears were buzzing, and his brain was running in endless circles.

A hand was moving in front of him, and he stared at the angel that was standing in front of him. Her mouth was moving, probably talking to him, and he willed himself to pay attention.

“S-Sorry.”

“It's alright.” The angel answered him; maybe he had finally overdone it with the sugared coffee he was drinking as if it were his primary source of hydration. “ I am looking for Aaron Hotchner.”

“R-Right. Umm…”

“Good, you are here. Come with me.” Hotch's voice echoed in the empty room, and Spencer's cheeks flamed an angry red as the girl turned and kindly waved at him as she quickly climbed the stairs and entered the conference room. Spencer had half a mind not to turn his chair and stare at her. With an unnecessary loud cough, he turned back at his report and thanked his luck for Morgan's absence because if he had witnessed this, he was going to hear the end of this anytime

2. The lesson

A month had passed since he first saw her. And yet, he could recall her vividly, the deep-set eyes, the rosy lips. His birthday had been a blur as he celebrated them in the office and invited JJ in a lame attempt to ask her out which just resulted in a long evening where JJ and Penelope talked endlessly and he couldn't comprehend the sport he was supposedly watching.

He was waiting in Hotch's office as a stand-in. He was teaching a young agent to join the unit and he was thrilled when he heard that the student was just a few months shy of his own age. At the moment, he was trying to move a huge board to the office when someone lightly tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around way too fast and came face to face with the angel he saw, the one he thought he willed into existence.

“Do you need help with that?”

“No, no. I got it. Are you Hotch's student?” He asked and immediately regretted it. Of course, she was his student. Why did he have to lose half of his IQ around her? He gave one last hard shove to the board end and then aligned it with the desk. “So um… Hotch asked me to be your tutor for today if that is alright with you. Um… What material are you studying?”

“Mostly psychology. Which I am not very good at, by the way.” She retrieved a huge book from her bag and a small pencil case that was filled with just a pen and three markers, red, yellow, and green. Just as she opened the book, he could see that its majority was colored and that it had notes in the margins. His heart thudded louder in his chest.

“What do all those colors mean?” He asked curiously as he approached her.

“Well green means that I understand it; yellow means that I am working on it and red … I just have no clue. It's just mostly yellow at the moment, though the notes help.”

“What's red?” She looked at him in a strange way, and too late did he realize that she was studying him, his question had been earnest and probably too forward, and he rushed to explain himself. “ I just - I asked because I have a PhD in the subject.” He could see her eyebrows lifting before they settled in a scowl and whacked his brain to understand what he said wrong.

“You are Doctor Reid, right?” She asked quietly, and he stupidly nodded as an answer to her question. “Well there is … I don't understand some differences between some categories of killers; they have much in common, so why are they in a separate category?”

“The answer is actually way simpler I'd you think of it in a Venn diagram.” He rushed to the board, and drew a few circles, and he started writing on it as he explained its category separately. He talked for what seemed like hours, and he embarrassingly looked at his watch. He must have been talking for over an hour, and he turned to look at the girl only to find her writing on her book, still in the margins looking at him expectantly. The way she was staring at him almost had him stammering once again, and he felt his knees weaken for a strange reason. So he carried on.

When he was done, he turned to look at her; she was still writing something before she whispered. “You need to tuck your chest in when you are firing a gun.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Aaron said that he was having trouble with one of his agents' firearm training, and it must be you. You have a long torso, so your weight center is different from the diagrams in the training books you must have read. That's why you keep missing.” And just like that, she was gone again wishing him good night and a nice weekend.

His head was spinning as he walked towards the training room, and he wore his earmuffs and protective glasses. Tuck your chest in. And so he did before aiming and pressing the trigger three times. His shots were the best, but he hadn't missed. Pride swarmed his chest; he was going to do it.

The next day, he failed his exam. He had lost his gun.

3. The first case

Small-town cases were always the most thrilling in his humble opinion. And any time somehow a cult or demons were involved, he worked ten times harder to prove them wrong. Only this time, their team had a new member. Gideon did seem to take a liking to her, in contrast with Spencer, who was incredibly warm to her the moment she entered the room. Maybe it was because he had met her before, or maybe it was because whenever she was around him he felt like a firework ready to explode. Somehow, his conversation with Morgan had turned to the explanation of attraction in the neurotic sector.

“Chemicals, such as dopamine, may cause one to be giddy, euphoric, and even to experience suppressed hunger and sleep cues. You may recall a time when someone made your heart thud erratically in your chest, heat rise in your body making you blush, and the sensation of being tongue-tied or not able to form coherent thoughts. These are the characteristics of attraction.”

“Is that what you feel around her then? Because you don't act like yourself around her. I mean, come on, you are a germaphobe, and you were the first to shake her hand.”

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he did shake her hand. She surprised him too quickly to think beyond taking her hand, letting it happen. Their formal meeting, the one where they acted as if they hadn't spent an evening together in this same room. Hotch gave him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite, and he was definitely on to him. In the duration of the case, he tried to keep his distance, which didn't go that well when he found himself staring at the barrel of a gun that was aimed at him. Everything went by too quickly as she dove toward the UnSub, without a second thought tackling him to the ground and disarming him in a few short seconds. He wanted to be impressed, yet he had seen her in the training room with Morgan as they had hand-to-hand combat. She moved with agility, and her every move seemed calculated and strategic. He had felt his heart stutter in his chest as she helped him stand and checked him for injuries.

He was lovestruck as Penelope teased him. His silly crush on JJ had been entirely forgotten.

4. The Lila Archer incident

He was an idiot. It was the first time he would characterize himself in such a way. And hopefully the last.

When you guard a beautiful actress, Spencer, don't jump in the pool with her.

Love,

Spencer

He could identify the disappointment in his colleagues' faces from the very first second, yet the one that pierced him the most was hers. She barely spoke during the discussions about the possible type of the UnSub, no matter how much Elle or Hotch urged her on. She had been stuck with him for pretty much all of the cases and he had to admit that she was a brilliant young woman. The others interpreted her quietness as an inability to profile but her insights were what had helped him make some major breakthroughs on the last cases. When they congratulated him for that he simply smiled stating that he didn't work alone yet the others probably thought that he was just trying to cover his partner and not share mutual credit for their work. It unnerved him how she seemed incredibly distant and stoic always five paces away from the rest of the team.

Yet this time she seemed furious, it was the deathly kind of quiet, the one that sent a chill to his bones and left all the apologies that were spewing up in his brain die on his tongue.

Frustration was welling up on him and he tried to muster up the courage to talk to her, only to find her crying in Morgan's arms. He couldn't understand for the life of him what she was saying and a selfish, terrible part of him hoped that, maybe, she had been crying for him.

5. The drug addiction

Tobias Hankel was going to be a name that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Sometimes deep into the night he was still at that cabin fighting for his life, the one time his intelligence wasn't enough. What drew him to steal those few bottles of Dilaud from his pocket, why he used them, why he formed his addiction. He didn't want to be a drug addict but it was his new reality. He desperately tried to stop it, tried to hide it and always felt ashamed when he relapsed to that horrible habit. He would sit in his bathroom sweating, crying and begging a higher force, a higher being to end his torment, despite never being a religious man, only for his phone to ring demanding his presence because of a new case and for him to fall back to his old routine.

It was a tough journey and he wanted to talk with his friends about that, he needed their help, yet they ignored his problem as if it didn't exist, even though the signs were clear. He was always lashing out, having terrible mood swings and when they tried to confort him about it he lashed out. He had met an old friend of his and he had been the only one he had been brutally honest about his … condition. Gideon knew, his mentor knew, he had the confirmation, yet he turned a blind eye to the situation. Everyone did, except from her.

Everyday she would bring him his extra sweet coffee filled to the brim with stevia and not sugar, because sugar was just as addictive. When he craved, he played with his fingers, tried to distract himself but to no avail, a long strip of hard licorice sweets would appear in front of his face, after research be learned that the flavourful of licorice was extremely distinctive and strong and its hard texture led a person to chew endlessly at just one piece. It was the best food to consume to distract yourself. Every night after a case she would show up at his place with Greek takeout, which was apparently the best cousine, and demand longtime marathons of a show or series of movies, which wasn't something unusual for the two of them. She visited him because she knew that he would never use in her vicinity. He had never known true love until that moment and he recalled a quote by Jane Austin.

To be loved is to be known.

words: 3.007

[itadorey]

𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞— gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: even after you leave the jujutsu world behind, gojo satoru finds himself unable to get over you. genre: fluff! some angst but happy ending, friends to lovers notes: inspired by the song "haunt me (x3)" by teen suicide, gojo is awful at realizing his own feelings and dealing with them wc: ~4.8k

the day that you leave tokyo jujutsu tech is a dull one.

gojo think this must've been months in the planning, especially considering the fact that you're standing with nothing but a backpack slung over your shoulder with the rest of your belongings nowhere to be seen.

(he later learns that they had already been moved to your new apartment, and nanami and shoko had helped you move out over the course of a month.)

he also discovers that he's the only one that hasn't been informed of your departure, especially since he seems to be the only one taken by surprise as you stand by the entrance and say your goodbyes. he wonders if it's his fault for taking so many missions after geto's defection, and he feels his stomach lurch uncomfortably when he realizes that he's been so distracted that he once again couldn't see something happening with one of his friends.

and now you're leaving.

"you have to promise to visit," shoko says, engulfing you in a tight hug. gojo feels his mouth run dry at the sight, and he can't help but feel panicked when you give shoko a soft grin.

"i'll certainly do my best," you respond, reaching over to tug on her hair. she sighs in return, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you gently as she stares you down.

"answer your phone, ok? you can't ignore my texts now that you're leaving."

a quiet laugh leaves your lips at her words, and you nod reassuringly before giving her a loud smooch on the cheek and moving down the line. gojo watches you closely as you say your goodbye to yaga, the older man turning away from you to brush a fake tear away from his eye. he presses a soft, floppy doll into your hands before you move away from him, and gojo can see the distinct shine in your eye that lets him know that you're holding tears at bay.

he looks down at the ground when he realizes that he's the only one left for you to say goodbye to, and he can't help the way he tenses up when he sees your shoes come to a stop in front of him. there's a moment of silence during which gojo can feel everyone's eyes on him, and he begrudgingly looks up at you and removes his sunglasses.

if this is the last time he's seeing you, he's going to make sure he remembers every little detail.

there's a sharp intake of breath as you steadily meet his gaze, and you find yourself rendered speechless at the sight of his eyes. gojo can hear shoko cough lightly, and he steels himself before giving you a forced smile.

"so you're leaving," he whispers, his eyes widening slightly when he realizes what he's just said. you seem to be caught off guard as well, eyebrows raising in surprise before giving him a nod. he takes a moment to breathe, aware of shoko's lingering gaze as the two of you face each other. "oh. i didn't know."

"yeah," you breathe, rubbing your arm as you look away from him. "i hadn't gotten the chance to tell you. it seems like you're always off on a mission these days."

"you could've texted," gojo attempts to say jokingly, wincing when his words fall flat. you laugh lightly at his words, recognizing the teasing undertone even if the delivery had been less than perfect. you always seem to understand gojo, regardless of whether or not he wants you to.

"we both know you never look at your phone," you tease back, giving him a pretty smile that he hasn't seen in a while. he chuckles breathlessly at your jab, and he nods his agreement before glancing at shoko.

"neither do you," he shoots back, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile when you follow his line of sight. "you gotta get better at that. can't risk pissing shoko off."

the space between the two of you is filled with uncertain laughter at gojo's remark, and you take a moment to study gojo before taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. he stumbles back a step or two at your sudden action, tensing up when you tuck your face into the crook of his neck.

"i'll miss you," you whisper, your breath warm against his neck. he tries to ignore the goosebumps that rise up along the smooth expanse of his neck, too focused on wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him when he feels you start to step away.

gojo knows that everyone else is watching the two of you, he can feel shoko's soft gaze and yaga's sad look as he does his best to ignore them and bury his face into your hair. there's an intense urge to ask you to stay building up inside of him, and he clamps his lips shut tightly in order to keep himself from blurting out his plea. the two of you remain in each other's arms before you finally take a deep breath and step away, giving gojo a watery smile.

"i'll miss you, satoru," you whisper, looking away and blinking back your tears. "i'll see you later, yeah?"

gojo nods dumbly as you finally walk away, giving everyone one last wave before slipping into the car that's been waiting for you this entire time. it isn't until he sees it disappear from view that gojo realizes that he didn't tell you that he would miss you too.

he wastes no time in slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes, clearing his throat quietly before turning and making his way back inside the building.

a week later, gojo hears that nanami has left jujutsu tech as well, and he can't help but wonder if he'll ever see either of you again.

gojo likes to think that he's matured, even though shoko might say otherwise because she's certain she's right. and also to piss him off.

but the truth is, he's no longer the same spunky, reckless teenager he was before everything went wrong in his life. he knows how to sort of work through his emotions now— in a way he thinks is healthy, he might add, but he can't help but find himself frozen in this very moment. there's a weird ache in his heart, one that he silently notes seems to be brought on by the flurry of emotions he's feeling in that very instant.

he wonders if they're visible on his face. they are.

gojo satoru is the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer in japan, maybe even in the world, and yet he feels like he's been reduced to almost nothing when a familiar face slides into the seat across from him.

five years is clearly not long enough to forget you, gojo realizes, physically wincing at the way his heart seems to race at the sight of you. his eyes meet yours, and he holds steady eye contact with you for a few seconds before ducking his head and quietly excusing himself from the table.

he takes a deep breath to attempt and soothe his rattled nerves as he takes a seat at the bar, squishing himself into the corner so that he's not visible from your table. he orders a soda from the bartender, ignoring the disbelieving look he gets in return before he ambles off to prepare the drink.

gojo has barely taken a sip of the soda before shoko is crashing into his side, settling onto the barstool next to him and digging her elbow into his side as she calls her order out to the bartender. neither of them speak until shoko gets her drink, and she immediately lifts it to her lips and takes a big sip that makes gojo shudder with disgust.

"surprise," shoko says dryly, glancing at gojo as he spares a look in your direction. he notices three extra people at the table, and he lets his shoulders drop in relief when he sees familiar heads of blond, white, and brunette.

"yeah, quite the surprise," gojo huffs, taking another sip of his soda. he stares at shoko until she turns to face him, a mildly displeased look on her face as she takes in his furrowed eyebrows. "i didn't know you still kept in contact with them."

"i didn't know you didn't still keep in contact with them," shoko shoots back, raising an eyebrow as she studies gojo's conflicted expression. she continues before he can gather his thoughts, earning a loud sigh as she speaks. "you kept in contact with nanami just fine. in fact, all he does is complain about how you never leave him alone."

gojo swallows harshly at shoko's words, and he thinks long and hard before deciding to remain silent for the time being. he can't find it in himself to admit that the thought of reaching out to you hurts him more than he cares to admit. you had left the jujutsu world, the one part of your life that included him, behind. even if he wanted to, gojo doesn't think he can find the words to express how he's feeling.

"switch seats with me when we get back to the table," gojo says suddenly, pausing to slurp up the rest of his drink. shoko glares at him when he sucks on nothing but air, the obnoxious sound causing her to reach over and flick him in the cheek. gojo grins widely when she hits nothing but air, his infinity protecting him from shoko's incredibly violent wrath.

"no," she says, getting off her barstool and picking up her drink. gojo realizes too late that she's heading back to the table, and he scrambles after her in an attempt to get there before her. his attempts are fruitless, and he finds himself awkwardly standing behind shoko's seat as she takes her place two chairs down from you.

gojo acts normal when everyone turns to glance at him, and he stiffly makes his way back to his own seat, avoiding your questioning gaze as he sits down. it takes a second for the table to break out into chatter again, and gojo doesn't hesitate before turning to the seat next to him and striking up a conversation with utahime. he notices mei mei grab your attention out of the corner of his eye, and he can't help but sigh in relief as he focuses on utahime once again, disregarding her annoyed look.

gojo is certain that ignoring you is much easier than dealing with whatever the hell is causing him to feel like he's dying inside.

the days that follow the dinner at the restaurant are unnervingly quiet, and gojo finds himself sitting on his couch and wondering if he should reach out to you.

there are no missions to take at the moment, and gojo is left with nothing to do but stare at his phone and wait for a message that never comes. megumi takes note of his sullen behavior, and although a part of him is curious about gojo's sudden attitude change, he doesn't think he actually cares enough to ask the white-haired sorcerer about what seems to be bothering him.

a few more days pass before gojo ultimately decides that reaching out to you would do more harm than good, especially with the way he completely ignored you at dinner. he's given no time to even think about changing his mind, and the very next day, he's being sent out on yet another mission.

he eventually falls into the same monotonous routine his life had prior to his run-in with you, and he wonders what would've changed if he had decided to take the chance and reach out the day after seeing you. there's a dull ache in his chest that seems to linger even after he makes his decision, and it only seems to get worse whenever shoko deigns to share updates about you with him.

the two of them know that gojo is more than grateful for her updates, even if he refuses to ask about you outright. he's certain that if he were to fully give into his curiosity that his heart would feel like it's giving out on him, and not even shoko's displeased looks are enough for him to get over himself and just ask you directly. he's even stopped pestering nanami, too afraid that he would give in and ask him questions about you.

it isn't until a long time passes (a year and a half; he's kept count) that gojo thinks he's finally getting over it— getting over you. his heart finally starts feeling lighter and breathing becomes a little bit easier and he can't help but think about how silly he was being, staying hung up for so long on somebody who probably never even thought twice about him.

they're small improvements but they're still improvements, and gojo reminds himself of that even as he walks down the busy streets of tokyo. he breathes out a sigh of relief as he slips into the local pharmacy, the cool air conditioning a welcome reprieve from the sticky heat outside.

he mumbles to himself as he moves through the aisles, scanning the shelves as he looks for children's allergy medication. the sudden weather changes had affected megumi and tsumiki in a way none of them had expected, and gojo was left alone to deal with their pitiful sniffles and soft complaints.

"allergy meds," he whispers, reaching out to grab a box only to put it back when it's not the one he's looking for. "there's so much cough syrup, where's the aller—"

"gojo?"

so maybe he hasn't improved, gojo thinks to himself as he freezes up at the sound of your voice. he holds his breath as you approach him, and he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels your sleeve brush against his.

six and a half years isn't enough to forget about you either, it seems.

"it's been a while, huh?" you ask, giving him a soft glance before looking at the shelves in front of you. there's a light hum that escapes your lips as you bend down to grab something before straightening up and holding out a box in your hand. "allergy meds, right?"

gojo nods silently as he takes the box from you, quickly scanning the text on it to make sure it was the right brand. there's an awkward silence as he thinks about what to say, and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind when you turn your face away from him.

"it's not for me!"

a noise that gojo thinks might be a giggle leaves your lips at his proclamation, and he mentally kicks himself for starting up a conversation with you.

"it's for megumi, right?" you ask softly, unaware of the way gojo's eyes widen at your question. "that zenin kid you took in?"

when you notice gojo's shocked look, you hastily ass onto your statement. "shoko told me about him when i asked about you."

'shoko told me about him when i asked about you.'

gojo thinks he feels his head spin when he hears those words come out of your mind. he does his best to remain calm, reaching out a hand to lean against the shelf comfortably and wincing when he instead knocks down a row of the cough syrups he had been studying earlier.

"uh, fushiguro, actually," he mutters, doing his best to focus on straightening out the products he knocked down. "his dad took his wife's last name or something like that. but yeah, the medicine is for him and his sister."

he finds himself shuffling awkwardly as you look down at your watch, eyes widening slightly when you take note of the time. he watches as you turn to face the shelf behind you, quickly plucking some eye drops off the shelf before turning back to him.

"i have to go, i'm running late for a meeting," you say sheepishly, giving gojo a soft smile. he gives you a half-smile in return, accompanied by a lazy wave as he waits for you to leave. you stand in front of him for a second, hesitating slightly before leaning in and wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug. gojo tenses up in your embrace, his breath catching in his throat and hands freezing mid-air before he hesitantly places them on your back. you pull back slightly after a few seconds, looking up at gojo with a stare that makes his heart feel like it's about to beat out of his chest before you address him once more. "it was nice to see you. we should catch up sometime."

you're gone with a smile and a wave, quickly paying for your eye drops before darting out the door. gojo remains in his spot for five minutes after your departure, only moving when he sees the amused look the cashier seems to be giving him. he doesn't speak as he pays for the allergy medication, and he hastily makes his exit back into the stifling heat. he starts walking down the street as he tucks his change into his pocket, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when his fingers brush against a piece of paper that hadn't bee there before.

there's an annoyed grumble from a passerby when gojo suddenly stops in the middle of the street, his fingers clutching onto the paper that contains very familiar handwriting.

'can't wait to see you again! :)'

the line is followed by what he assumes to be your phone number, and gojo can't help but wonder when you had the chance to write the note. he begins moving down the street again, his steps sluggish as he hesitates near a trash can. before he can think any harder, he lets the paper flutter into wastebasket, only pausing for a brief second before moving away.

not seeing you over the past year and a half made his heart feel lighter, yet all it took was a five minute interaction with you to make his heart feel worse than it ever had before.

the world loves to play cruel jokes on him, gojo thinks.

the past two years have been a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty, and he's had no time to stop and think about you while dealing with geto, sukuna, and the emergence of the cursed spirit that calls itself mahito.

if he really thinks about it, he's had no time to sit and rest. from geto's attack to yuuta's training to megumi's missions to yuuji's interesting choice that led to him eating sukuna's finger, he's had no time to sit and truly enjoy the little things life has to offer.

(not that he's ever had the time. the life of a special grade sorcerer is a busy one, but gojo can't deny that things weren't always as complicated as they have been the last couple of years.)

so when yaga tells him that nanami is returning to jujutsu tech, gojo thinks that it's the perfect time to let yuuji learn from someone other than him while he takes care of some unfinished business. what he doesn't expect however, is to see you standing next to nanami, a pretty smile on your face as you greet yaga with a hug.

ten years. ten years and somehow, you still manage to make gojo feel the same way he did way back then.

there's something wrong with him, he thinks, especially because it's starting to seem like he's cursed to always somehow coexist with those he cares about without ever fully being a part of their lives. there's no way he can turn around and pretend he never saw you, not with the way yaga is already yelling at him to go over and greet the returners.

gojo wonders why this happens every time he sees you. he doesn't know how to label what he feels whenever you pop up in his life, and it isn't until you give him a hesitant greeting— your tone shy and awkward after receiving nothing but radio silence from him— that gojo thinks he might finally know what it is he feels for you.

and when the thought of him being in love with you crosses his mind and makes him feel like he wants to die, all he can do is tamp down his swirling emotions with a goofy grin aimed at nanami.

"nanami! what a pleasure to see you here," gojo sings, immediately pulling the blond man into a reluctant hug. he gives you a polite nod in greeting, and he can't help the way his heart sinks when you nod in response and look away.

"likewise," nanami replies, his tone strained as he pulls away from gojo. he fixes his shirt as he steps over to you, and the two of you stand silently as you wait for yaga to speak.

"introduce them to yuuji," yaga says, turning around and heading back towards his office. "and don't cause trouble. i mean it, satoru."

gojo giggles at yaga's words before clapping his hands and motioning for the two of you to follow after him, leading you down a series of hallways before you come to a stop in front of an empty room.

"yuuji! there's someone i'd like you to meet!"

you're taken slightly aback when your eyes meet bright, brown ones, and you can't help but stare as a teenage boy with pink hair comes to a stop in front of you and nanami.

"this is nanami kento!" gojo all but yells, once again slinging his arm around nanami's shoulders and swaying him back and forth. the boy, yuuji, looks at nanami curiously, his eyes focused on the glasses perched on his nose. he has no time to speak before gojo is introducing you as well, his voice softer than it had been when introducing nanami. yuuji's eyes sparkle as they shift to you, and all of a sudden he's breaking out into a boyish smile that only serves to remind you just how young he really is.

"woah! i didn't think you were actually real!" he proclaims, earning a strained laugh from gojo. "when gojo mentioned you he said you were really p—"

the rest of his words are muffled, gojo's hands clamped tightly against his mouth as he pulls yuuji away from you. out of the corner of your eye, you can see nanami staring at you, and you only give him a shrug in return as gojo pats yuuji's head and lets him go.

"you'll be following them around on missions," gojo finally explains, pushing yuuji towards you and nanami. "they're both grade 1 sorcerers so don't worry, you'll be safe! now if you'll excuse me, i have to go."

gojo's out of the room before either of you can breathe out a goodbye, and you tense for a second before excusing yourself and following after him. he hasn't gotten terribly far, but his long legs give him the advantage of staying ahead of you even as you start jogging lightly in an attempt to catch up to him.

"gojo!" you call out, huffing lightly when he ignores you and turns a corner. "hey! gojo, wait! satoru!"

the sounds of his given name has his steps faltering, and he reluctantly turns around when he hears your footsteps getting closer and closer. there's a rigidity to his stance that you've never seen, his shoulders hunched in an almost defensive way as you finally come to a stop in front of him.

"yeah?" he asks, an uncomfortable grin settling on his lips as he looks anywhere but you. he's grateful for his blindfold in this very moment, the dark fabric preventing him from seeing you in your entirety and preventing you from seeing the way he can't seem to look at you for more than half a second.

"i—," you say, starting to speak and cutting yourself off before looking down at the ground. you sigh softly, shaking your head lightly as your shoulders slump. "never mind. forget about it."

you turn to walk back to the room, and gojo feels like he might actually keel over and die right then and there if he lets you walk away yet again.

"how have you been?"

gojo's question hangs in the air, and he can't help but flinch when you finally look at him again, your eyes swirling with hurt and sadness and other emotions that pass so quickly that gojo isn't sure he could figure out what they were even if he tried.

"you'd know if you hadn't thrown my phone number away," you retort quietly, crossing your arms as he approaches you. gojo breathes in sharply at your words but remains quiet, his throat going dry as he realizes that you had seen what he did that day. "why, gojo?"

gojo weighs his options, vacillating between telling you the truth or spewing a lie. the words seem to spill out of his mouth before he can even think about whether or not to say them, a trend he notices is extremely common whenever he's in your presence. "because you've ruined my life."

okay, so the truth it is.

your eyes widen in hurt when you take in his words, and it takes everything you have to not burst into tears on the spot. "oh, i see."

"wait," gojo says, scrambling to fix the situation that just keeps getting worse and worse with everything he says or does. "that's not what i meant."

"then what did you mean?" you ask sharply, your eyes narrowing slightly as you stare him down.

"what i mean is that i think i love you," he says in a rush, ignoring the way your eyes widen in surprise at his admission. he doesn't give you the chance to respond, too focused on saying everything that's been building up for the past decade before he gets cold feet. "you've ruined my life, you know? it's been ten years but it's damn near impossible to get over you. my heart still feels as heavy as it did the day you let, maybe even heavier, and i threw away your number because i didn't see any benefit in reaching out to you. why would i torture myself by keeping in contact with you when i belong to the world you wanted to leave behind?"

"i wanted to leave the jujutsu world behind," you interject softly, taking a hesitant step towards gojo before coming to a stop. "that doesn't mean i wanted to leave gojo satoru behind."

"oh," gojo breathes. he wonders if you can hear how loud his heart is beating in his chest, and he decides that maybe he doesn't care. "does that mean that—"

"i liked you?" you interrupt, nodding your head softly. "or like, i guess. i agree, ten years isn't enough to get over you."

"i was talking about you," gojo mumbles dumbly, earning a shrug in response from you. a loud crash sounds from the direction of the room you had left nanami in, and you give gojo a hesitant look before motioning in the direction of the noise.

"i should probably go and check that out," you say quietly, a smile twitching at the corners of your lips. "y'know, make sure that nanami is okay."

"um, yeah. yeah that sounds reasonable," gojo says, his mind still focused on your impromptu confession.

"i don't think this conversation is over yet," you continue, breathing out a laugh when gojo nods in agreement. he jumps slightly when you take his hand in yours, slipping a piece of paper into in before tugging him down to press a kiss to his cheek. "let me know when you're free, yeah? maybe we can get dinner or something and talk."

"are you asking me out on a date?" he asks cheekily, doing his best to compose himself.

"maybe i am," you say slyly, squeezing his hand once before letting go. you turn to walk down the hall, only pausing to look at him over your shoulder once before you turn the corner. "don't lose my number this time, okay?"

gojo chuckles at your words, nodding in agreement as he gives you a lazy salute. "i wouldn't dream of it."

it isn't until you're out of sight that gojo realizes his heart feels the lightest that it's ever felt in years, and he finds himself once again wondering when you had gotten the chance to write the note.

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!

[entitled-fangirl]

One happy marriage.

Benedict Bridgerton x wife!reader

Summary: the reader lies about something important and finally breaks down to tell her husband about it.

Masterlist

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"I have started our marriage with the most audacious lie, Benedict!"

He looked up from his sketchbook with a curious look, "Whatever are you talking about, my dear?"

Y/N covered her mouth with a quiet sob. The lie was eating at her every day and she knew sooner or later the truth would reveal itself. Too bad she revealed it on her own.

Benedict frowned and stood quickly. He raced towards her and sat down cautiously on the sofa next to her. One arm gently pulled her to him, "Darling? I'm sure whatever it is can be forgiven."

She shook her head quickly and spoke through hiccups, "No…. It's unspeakable. Pl… please don't leave me."

This started to worry the poor man.

His hands gently ran up and down her arms, "I promise you, my dear. Whatever has happened, we will be as we are now."

She pulls away from him and wipes her eyes. "I am so sorry, Benedict."

He felt his heart break at the sight of her tears and pleads. "You must tell me what has troubled you this badly."

She shakes her head again, "I don't know if I can."

Benedict sighs.

He was a Bridgerton. And Bridgertons are nothing if not stubborn.

He gently takes her face in his hands. "How then, darling, am I to help fix this issue if I do not know of it?"

She stared up at him. How could she deny him? He was her heart. "I… I have lied to you so dreadfully."

He nods in thought, "Alright?"

She takes a deep breath, "I am an artist."

Benedict's head tilts. "Oh."

She looks up at him to gauge his reaction. "When we were courting, you asked if I was an artist. I said no. I… I lied to you."

He nods again with his lips in a tight line, "Yes. So you did."

She felt awful.

Silence fell over the two before Benedict broke it, "And your work?"

Her head perked up. "My work?"

He gave a slight smirk, "Yes, my dear, your work."

She nodded, "The… the paintings in the parlor… I lied. I do not collect them… I ma... I made all of those."

Benedict smiled widely. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned forward and kissed the crown of her head, "I know."

She stiffened. "What?"

He leaned back and his smile only grew, "I knew, darling. I've always known. I was waiting for you to tell me."

Now it was her turn to feel a bit speechless.

Benedict continued, "I understand why you lied. Those pieces are gorgeous, and the last thing you wanted was your courter... well... your husband... to feel… lowly of his own work-"

"-but your work is lovely, Ben." She quickly interrupted.

"Ah, yes, but not like yours, my dear."

"But how did you know?"

He shrugged, "John Marques is not a real painter." He leaned close to her ear, "And yet, his name is on every plaque in the house."

She let out a laugh so happy, Benedict swore he had never heard one that matched.

She jumped into his lap and held him close.

And he was beyond happy to hold her so near.

He pulled away just to kiss her.

They could feel each other's smiles as their lips pressed together.

She broke away, just close enough to feel his breath on her lips, "And you truly aren't upset at me?"

He laughed, "How could I be? My very own wife, a most talented painter? How on earth could I ever be upset? I'm the happiest husband in the ton!"

Two artists make one happy marriage.

...................................................................

[master-sass-blast]

I Just Want to Fuck You

(A sequel to Roses are Red)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4

AO3

This contains Explicit smut, so NSFW, MDNI Sevika x female reader 3.9k words (why are my smut scenes always so dang long? And this is shorter than usual! 😭)

AN: Sorry I couldn’t get this last chapter out by Valentine's Day, but hopefully it’s still enjoyable!

"Your place or mine?"

Seems simple enough a question, but as Sevika only eyes you in contemplation, you start to wonder if perhaps you somehow misinterpreted the poem. But then again, how could you possibly misinterpret the words 'I just want to fuck you'?

"You got a key to the storage closet, don't you?"

What?

Oh.

OH!

"I- Well yes. I do," you reply dumbfounded. That was not the response you were expecting, but you're certainly not complaining either. "But my shift doesn't end for another hour," you add dejectedly.

Sevika looks past your shoulder, which you find odd, at least until she suddenly bellows, "Hey! Thieram!"

You nearly jump out of your skin at the abrupt and commanding call to your fellow bartender. And judging by the shrill little yelp from behind you, he was just as startled as you.

"Y-Yeah?" Thieram stammers nervously as he walks up beside you. He avoids Sevika's gaze like a trembling mouse, and you can't help but smile at how Sevika can bring men to their knees simply with her voice. Her presence.

"She's taking off early," Sevika states matter-of-factly, tilting her head towards you.

"Wha-?" He stops dead, catching the way Sevika narrows her eyes at him threateningly. "Oh. Uh- okay," he finishes meekly.

You almost feel sorry for him. Almost. Hard to feel too bad when you know what this is going to lead to. For you. His loss equals your benefit. A damn good one at that.

“Meet me in the back,” Sevika instructs, but before she can turn to leave, you hoist yourself up onto the bar-top. She arches a brow, clearly impressed.

You swing your legs over to her side of the counter. “My feet are tired. Carry me?” you ask with a playful pout.

Sevika’s lips curl into a smirk and she steps between your spread knees. Wrapping her arms around your waist, she grabs a handful of your ass and tugs you towards her.

You squeal, earning yourself a throaty chuckle from Sevika. The two of you smile at one another as you wrap your arms around her neck and legs around her waist. Neither of you give two shits that the other bar patrons are watching your little display. Not when both of you are so enamored with the other. And horny.

“You’ll be more than tired by the time I’m through with you,” Sevika husks as she carries you around the bar and towards the back.

Biting your lip, you try to contain your excitement. You don’t doubt for a second that she’s going to wear you out. You’re willing to bet a week's pay she’s a master between the sheets. Or in this case, between the mop and the sink.

"You're the one who sent me those flowers, right?" You ask.

"Yeah."

"Thank you. That was very sweet of you."

"Bet you're sweeter," she replies, gaze dropping to your mouth when you instinctively lick your lips.

Using the sole of her boot, Sevika kicks the door open that leads to the hallway behind the bar. Her plump lips are on yours before the door can swing shut behind her.

She kisses you with such fervor, such hunger, it’s enough to steal your breath. And she allows you no time to recover, her tongue immediately forcing entry.

Your soft moan turns into a muffled gasp when you feel your back press against something hard. Blinking several times, you gather your bearings and realize it’s the door to the storage closet.

Sevika finally breaks the kiss, leaving you desperately trying to refill your oxygen derived lungs. “Key,” she grunts, hands groping at your ass. But before you can recover enough to respond, her mouth is latching onto your neck, biting and sucking down the length of it.

“Fuck,” you groan, tilting your head to the side to give her easier access. Reaching down to your pants pocket, you struggle to retrieve your keys, cursing yourself for wearing such tight pants. And Sevika is not making it any easier by sandwiching you between the door and her large frame. Not to mention distracting you with her hands groping your ass and her mouth trailing down into your cleavage.

Nearly ripping your pocket with how violently you yank the damn keys out, your next hurdle is getting them into the lock behind you.

"Someone's impatient," Sevika chuckles as she lifts her head to press her lips to your ear.

"You're the one who couldn't wait to go to one of our places," you reply. Unfortunately, the way you're nearly breathless from being so worked up, your playful snark loses quite a bit of its edge.

Sevika nips at your ear, withdrawing a sharp inhale from you. She grabs the keys from your hand, pressing herself against you harder to keep you from slipping down her body while she hastily unlocks the door.

Though it should have been expected, you aren't prepared for how the door flies open from how damn hard Sevika is pushing you into it. Seems she isn't either, as she stumbles inside. The next thing you know, your back is slammed against yet another immovable object. Judging by the plethora of bottles that crash to the floor, it's a shelf.

The door swings shut, leaving the two of you in a very tiny closet with only a dim, dingy light hanging from above. Sevika wastes no time slipping her hand beneath your shirt to grope at a tit while her metal hand continues to squeeze your ass. She kisses down your jaw, dragging her teeth and nipping along the way.

"Sevika," you groan in protest. You want to touch her. Kiss her. But she's overpowering. Dominating. She gives you no room to return any of the attention, crushing you with her body and leaving your head muddled by her overwhelming presence. All you can manage is to cling to her shoulders and wrap your legs tighter around her waist while she starts grinding against you. And fuck, you can feel a bulge in her pants…

Oh dear Janna, she's wearing a strap.

And it's rubbing against your aching clit, leaving you desperately trying to bite back your moans.

Then she stops. And your resultant desperate whine doesn't go unnoticed.

Sevika smirks at your knitted brows and flushed cheeks. "Needy little thing, aren't you?"

Says the woman who can't seem to keep her hands or mouth off you.

"I thought you said you wanted to fuck me," you tease. And damn do you wish you could capture her expression and keep it forever. She just looks so stunned at your brazen comment. She's clearly not used to having someone brave enough to fire back at her. She's also clearly pleased, if the little smirk she wears is anything to go by.

"Alright sweetheart," Sevika purrs. Then, without warning, she backs up and unceremoniously drops you to your feet. "Fingers or strap?"

"What about mouth?" You ask with a sly grin.

"Your choice."

"Yes," you reply, and when she doesn't seem to take the hint, you add, "I'll take them all."

Her lopsided smile grows large enough to reveal a sliver of teeth.

Oh she likes that.

"Then drop those pants," she sneers.

You stand, unmoving, and watch as she pulls her cloak off over her head and tosses it on the handle of a mop. Smiling sweetly when she raises a brow at your still fully buttoned pants, you answer her unspoken question, "You forgot to say please."

You wonder, for a moment when her stormy gray eyes go wide, if perhaps you are being too brazen with Silco's right-hand woman. She could easily crush you with any part of her body. But you remind yourself; she came to you. She couldn't keep her eyes, hands or mouth off you. You've got this big, sexy brute under your thumb.

You raise an expectant brow to match hers and add, "Unless you've changed your mind." Slowly, deliberately, you run a fingertip down your chest, watching her pupils dilate as she follows the path down to your cleavage. "Would be such a pity," you add with a pout. "I've been so lonely. Needy." And when you see her metal and flesh fingers twitch at her sides, you know you've won.

"Please," she finally relents, but she refuses to meet your gaze. Her eyes remain glued to where your finger traces along the low collar of your shirt and over the swell of each breast.

Although she mumbles the word in the quietest voice, you opt to accept it. Not so much out of the kindness of your heart, but because you're aroused as high hell and want her touching you again. Without another word, you slowly undo your pants and pull them down to your ankles.

You're about to remove your boots when she's suddenly invading your space again; strong, thick thighs nearly touching your face. Peering up at her through your lashes, you find her smirking down at you while she unbuckles her belt, that smooth confidence apparently back in place. Now you can't seem to decide if you prefer her in that shocked, pussy-whipped state of mind, or this cocky, gonna take what I want version.

"Leave 'em," she states, placing her index finger beneath your chin and forcing you to rise.

You don't argue this time, deciding you want- at least for the time being- to let her take control again. Having only dropped your pants, you wonder if she plans to just fuck you with your panties on. But she quickly answers that question when she grabs said panties in her metal hand and just outright rips them like they're made of nothing more than tissue paper.

Sevika's haughty grin spreads wider at your startled yelp.

Okay, you're pretty sure you prefer this version. And as you watch her- this cocky, vast, powerful woman- slowly drop to her knees before you, you realize just how completely fucked you are. Or are about to be.

Sevika places a hand on the top of each of your thighs, and the contrast between the mechanical and organic is startling, but also thrilling. She’s certainly killed men with both, but one feels sharp, cold and crafted by mortals, while the other feels rough with callouses, warm and crafted by gods.

She slides the thumb of both between the apex of your thighs, gently prying them apart to reveal your dripping core. “Already so wet for me,” she hums appreciatively.

You release a shaky breath. Your sudden rise in arousal leaves your lower half aching for her touch. Your body shivers despite your skin feeling entirely too hot.

Sevika’s thumbs delve further, dangerously close to where you need her. But she simply spreads your folds and just… stares. Hungrily.

“Sev-” your whine is cut short, devolving into a broken moan when she drags the tip of her tongue through your folds, stopping just before your swollen clit. And then her mouth is on you, and the pleasure that courses through your body threatens to break any remaining composure you have.

She kisses you between your legs just as she did your mouth; hot, heavy, wild and downright insatiable. It's a myriad of sloppy licking, sucking and prodding. And paired with how fucking wet you are for her, the resulting crude noises should be enough to make you blush, but it feels so fucking good, you couldn't care less.

Then there's her nose. Oh Janna, her nose. She runs it along the throbbing bundle of nerves above while she laps at your cunt.

You card your hands through her silky hair, gripping the little half ponytail at the back. You tug when you feel her ease a finger inside your dripping hole. An impossibly long, thick finger.

"Fuck. Sevika, that feels good," you moan, eyes fluttering shut and head lolling back.

Sevika pulls that finger back out slowly, curling and dragging along your walls and with it another moan from your now slack mouth. Tongue swirling around your clit, she adds another finger, sinking both clear to the knuckle. Reaching up under your shirt with her prosthetic, she wraps her hand around one of your breasts, gently squeezing.

Her mouth sucks and tongue flicks at your clit. Her flesh fingers scissor and pump inside your cunt. And her metal fingers pinch and roll over the hardened peak of your breast. The sheer amount of stimulation is nearly overwhelming, leaving you reeling and struggling to remain standing.

Tugging her hair as you try to grind against her face and chase that rapidly approaching peak, you freeze when you feel the rumble of her threatening growl against your clit. It almost sends you over the edge. "Fuck, Sevika," you whimper. "I'm close. Please."

"Mmm. Not yet, sweetheart," she replies. And blessed Janna, her voice is so raspy, so full of lust, you think you might just collapse right then and there.

Peering down at her through half-lidded eyes, your legs tremble at the sight of this gorgeous brute of a woman with her face buried between your thighs, looking as if she's enjoying her last meal. Ravenous gray eyes meet yours and your knees finally give way.

Sevika catches you, her prosthetic leaving your breast to wrap around your waist and steady you. Removing her fingers from between your legs, she chuckles lowly at your fucked out expression. Wiping her mouth with the back of her free hand, she slowly rises.

Letting your hands drop to her shoulders, your lust-clouded eyes follow her smirking lips, neck craning as she reaches her full height.

Damn, she's so fucking tall. So sexy.

She suddenly pulls you against her firm body. Your resulting gasp is muffled by the press of her lips to yours. Her tongue forces entry and rolls over yours.

The taste of your own arousal fills your mouth, pulling an appreciative moan from deep in your chest.

When she pulls back, haughty smile still gracing her beautiful face, you’re too busy gaping to realize she’s reaching down to unzip her pants.

“Bend over the sink.”

You blink. Still light-headed from desire, you can’t quite process her statement. “What?”

She arches a brow. “Bend over the sink,” she repeats, slower this time.

Your gaze drops to her pants, eyes widening when you find her human hand languidly stroking the length of her long, purple strap.

Oh. Oh fuck yes.

Pants still at your ankles, you’re actually grateful for the absurdly small size of the closet, as you only have to waddle like a fool a short distance to position yourself facing the sink.

“That’s a good girl,” Sevika purrs as she steps up behind you, and your knees threaten to buckle again at that praise. She presses her metal hand to your back, gently forcing you to bend over. With the same hand, she spreads your thighs apart, her human hand guiding the head of the faux cock between them.

The anticipation that fills your entire being has you squeezing your eyes shut tight and biting your bottom lip. You’re certain the sharp tips of her metal fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh is the only thing keeping you grounded as she starts to ease the tip of her strap inside.

“Mmm,” she hums deeply from behind you, “Look at that. Such a hungry pussy. Wants me to fill her up.”

“Oh dear Janna,” you groan. She’s so fucking sexy.

“Forget my name, sweetheart?” she teases. She moves her human hand to your other thigh, helping spread you open as she ever-so-slowly sinks inside you.

Fuck, she’s going too slow. You need her inside you now. “Sevika,” you whimper.

“That’s right," she praises, thumbs gently stroking the insides of your thighs. "Bet I can get you to forget your own name though.”

You try to push back into her, but her nails dig almost painfully into your flesh, stilling you. You’re about to protest when she pushes the remainder of the silicone toy inside you, clear to the hilt. Shuddering at that delightfully full feeling, of her filling you completely, your breath comes out in a shaky moan.

Sevika moves her hands to your waist, holding you while she gives you a moment to adjust. “You still with me, beautiful?” she asks after a moment of just listening to you struggle to compose yourself.

Beautiful? Can this woman be any more perfect?

“I’m- I’m good,” you manage to breathe out. “More than good.”

"Ready?"

Yes!

"I was ready the-" your playful remark is cut short by her abrupt and hard thrust. "Fuck me!" You cry out, hands scrabbling to find purchase along the slick edges of the sink.

You barely register the short, throaty laugh coming from behind you, too focused on the pleasurable sensation between your thighs.

"That's what I'm doing, sweetheart," Sevika sneers as she slowly pulls back out before slamming into you again.

She sets a pace that's somehow both too slow and too fucking good. Using her grip on your waist, she pulls you back onto her faux cock with each snap of her hips.

It takes every ounce of your strength to withhold all the desperate noises brewing in your chest.

Sevika moves her hands to your shoulders for leverage as she bends over and presses her chest to your back. "Fuck! I've- been thinking- about this- for weeks," she grunts against your ear between perfectly timed thrusts.

"What? Fucking me- in a- tiny closet?" You try to tease. It doesn't hold quite the attitude you were hoping for. You're having just as much difficulty speaking as Sevika is, panting in synch with each deep stroke of the strap along your walls.

Without breaking rhythm, Sevika pulls her head back to regard you with an arched brow, to which you offer her a playful smile from over your shoulder.

"Fucking you-" she times her pause with the withdrawal of her strap, leaving just the tip inside. But before you can protest, she slams it back inside. "-anywhere," she finishes with her own cocky smile as you bury your face in the crook of your arm to muffle your cry of pleasure.

Her pace suddenly turns borderline brutal. Powerful thighs pounding against your ass hard enough to rattle the pipes connected to the sink.

Your grip on the sides starts to slip, knuckles turning white as you hold on for dear life. Your strangled moans and whines bounce off the walls of the tiny room, but you can’t hear it over the ringing in your ears as she slips her human hand around you to make messy circles around your wet, swollen clit.

It’s fucking heavenly. She’s a damn sex goddess, you’re certain. The way she rails into you mercilessly at just the right speed, at just the right angle to leave you seeing stars. The way her fingers apply just the right amount of pressure as they tease and toy with your clit. The way she leans over you, pressing her chest against your back in a move akin to an alpha claiming her mate.

You screw your eyes shut, tears pricking at the edges as your climax quickly approaches. Sucking in a deep breath, you hold it, your entire body tensing.

So close. So close!

"I can feel you clenching, sweetheart. You feel so fucking good." Sevika groans against your ear. "Say my name."

The tightly wound coil that burns low in your belly finally snaps. Your eyes roll back behind their closed lids. Sevika's name falls breathlessly from your slack mouth as your muscles contract with the waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Although Sevika stills her fingers against your throbbing clit, she continues to pound into you mercilessly. It doesn't take long for that pleasure to run it's course and leave you feeling entirely too stimulated. "Sevika," you whimper, "too much!"

She takes pity on you (thank the heavens) and gradually slows to a complete stop, strap buried to the hilt in your weeping cunt.

The two of you breath heavily for several moments while you attempt to recover. Her chest presses against your back with each inhale, and you can't help but wonder how great it would feel if both of you were naked.

"Shit," you curse under your breath, "That was… amazing."

Sevika runs the side of her nose along the back of your ear, warm breath tickling the tiny hairs at your neck when she chuckles. "Worth the wait, hmm?" she hums.

Before you can reply, Sevika rises and you feel the overwhelming drag of the faux cock as she pulls it out.

"Shit."

Sevika merely grins at your mumbled curse. Then, as if she hasn't already caught you off guard enough, she brings her flesh hand down against your bare ass with a resounding smack. "I asked you a question."

There's no malice in her tone. You know she's simply teasing you, especially when you feel the terribly sweet rub of her hand over your prickling skin. "Would have preferred it sooner," you reply as you shakily straighten your jelly-filled legs.

Jelly covered legs. Damn, your thighs are coated.

With the help of Sevika's metal arm wrapped around your chest, you rise and turn to face her. She's wearing the most self-satisfied smirk you've ever seen, and it only makes your body flush all over again, arousal returning almost full force.

"Thanks," you say softly, not trusting your own mouth to contain your desire.

She bends down, grabbing your pants and pulling them up far enough for you to take without having to bend down yourself. It's a simple gesture, but you find yourself shocked at how sweet it is. That moment doesn't last long though, as she notices how messy your thighs are.

"Really enjoyed that, didn't you?" She teases and runs her fingers up along the trail, collecting as much as she can before bringing it towards her mouth.

"Wait. Let me," you insist.

Sevika arches a brow, crooked grin taking over as she brings her cum covered fingers to your mouth instead. Her gray eyes watch intently as you let her slip her fingers between your parted lips.

With her close proximity, you can feel how she sucks in a breath when you take the full length of those long digits. She looks delightfully pleased as you suck them clean, tongue swirling around each finger before she slowly slips them back out. Her lips part to say something, but you're pulling her mouth down to yours by the back of her neck before she can speak. This time you're the one to force your tongue into her mouth.

Sevika makes a quiet, deep, guttural sound. Something caught between a gasp and a groan. And when you break the kiss to peer up at her, you find her eyes filled with renewed lust.

"That good, hmm?" You tease.

"That mouth of yours could get you into a lot of trouble, sweetheart," she husks.

"Oh I can do so much more with my mouth," you reply with a sly grin.

Her mouth tugs up at the corner. "That so?"

"Mhmm." You're nearly teaming with how you've clearly, and oh so easily, caught the interest of Silco's right hand woman. How her eyes follow the tip of your tongue as you trace your lips.

"Come back to my place and show me."

You know it's not a request. She's insisting. Not that you have any problem with that. As a matter of fact, it's exactly what you were going for.

Stretching up on your tiptoes, you place a soft kiss to her scarred cheek before whispering, "Sure thing, Valentine."

[izzy3clipse]

ellie making you wear vibrating panties in public <3 (smut, men dni)

this was ellie’s payback. this was her showing you who was in charge after what you pulled the night before; tying her hands as you rode her cock, not letting her touch your pretty tits or guide your hips as you bounced on her and rolled your hips against hers “so mean baby” ellie kept mumbling. she loved the view though, that was undeniable. but today you were going shopping, and ellie assured you it would be a lot of fun.

she tossed you an underwear without saying anything as you finished getting ready “what’s this?” you ask confused. “put it on” she said, the dominance in her voice immediately making you oblige. “they’re cute” you say putting them on “what’s so special about them though? i have plenty of underwear els”. “this” she says lifting up a thin black rectangle; a remote. “what’s that?” you giggle, still oblivious to what she had planned. “this” she says waving the remote in the air “this is a reminder for you”. “els what do you mean?” you chuckle, she presses a little red button and you immediately feel trembles and vibrations on your cunt which makes you squeeze your thighs together and desperately grab the wall next to you. ellie presses the button again “awesome” she chuckles under her breath looking at the remote as you catch your breath. “ellie what the fuck?” you say. “what you thought you could just fuck with me like that and get away with it? your actions have consequences princess”. you gaze was fixated on her, still in shock with your mouth agape. “i’ll go start the car, put on that pretty skirt of yours, yeah?” she says with a wink and a shit eating grin on her face, leaving you speechless.

ellie was playing dirty with you, she had you on the palm of her hand, literally. she’d press that god awful button at the worst possible moments; when you were ordering food and had to pretend like the quiet moan that escaped you mouth was a thinking noise, or when you were looking through clothes peacefully and then closed your eyes and let out a quiet “fuck”, ellie would come up behind you putting her hands on your waist “what’s wrong princess?” pulling your hips against her own, making sure you could feel the volume on her pants. “ellie please” you plead. she clicked the button again to stop it. “will you quit this shit, you’re making me embarrass myself” you snap at her. “but it’s so fun baby” she whispers in your ear “i love watching you squirm” she kisses your neck. “ellie stop we’re in public” you say moving your neck away “don’t be mad baby, i promise i’ll make it up to you” she caresses your waist “gonna fuck you dumb on my strap” she says letting the thought carry her away as she caresses your skin, so soft, and that skirt you were wearing, shit, it was driving her crazy, she could just fuck you then and there… “can’t wait” you say sharply snapping her out of her trance as you take the remote from her and walk away, ellie can’t help but smirk at the sight of your figure.

…

ellie was on top of you, her legs on either sides of your hips, her face was buried in your chest, her tongue lapping up your nipple, sucking hickeys into your skin, her fingers sliding up and down your wet folds excruciatingly slow. “ellie c’mon, i’ve earned this” your last words turning into a moan. “patience baby, gotta stretch this pretty pussy for my cock” she says and without warning pushes in two digits inside you, making your breath hitch “shit, look at you, sucking my fingers in” she chuckles admiring your cunt. “fuck- keep going” you whimper. she curls her fingers inside of you, making you dig your nails on her forearm, clenching around her. “you close?” “uhum” you nod desperately “good girl”.

your orgasm washes over you with a loud moan “ellie fuck-” your back arches against the bed and your eyes roll back, ellie keeps fingering you through it. ellie leaves you with and empty feeling as she brings her digits to her lips, sucking them clean “hm, so good” she says. you pull her neck and connect your lips, sliding your tongue in her mouth. ellie wastes no time in pushing the strap inside you, her nipples rubbing against your own as she thrusts into you, earning moans from both. “fuck” the base of the strap hitting ellie’s clit just right, she lifts herself up and grabs the headboard in an attempt keep herself together as her thrusts get sloppier. your moans and ellie’s whimpers filling the room along with the sound of her skin hitting yours.

ellie’s thrusts get slower but harder when she finally hits her climax, soon followed by yours. gripping the sheets beneath you and eyes rolling back. ellie is still inside you as she catches her breath and you come down from your high. “fuck baby” ellie breaths out. with heavy eyes you pull her body closer and start gently sucking on her nipple, her hand quickly comes to your hair, caressing you.

ellie gently brings your face closer to hers and kisses you ardently before coming off of you and collapsing by your side, legs entangled. after a few lazy moments, you were almost asleep, too fucked out, ellie kissed your cheek gently “m’gonna clean you up.. did so good f’me baby”. you open your eyes lazily “love you els”. “love you too princess” she gives you a quick peck and gets up.

this is kinda mid but i had this idea at 3am and just had to write it. 🧡🤍🩷

[jaegerbby]

➳ my soul searches

--͙[naoya zenin x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 6512

╰┈➤ rundown; you might be ignorant about anything concerning naoya zenin but somehow he knows everything about you.

╰┈➤ caution; mean! naoya, DUBIOUS CONSENT, virginity loss (mentions of blood), dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, no prep, choking, use of the words slut, whore, bitch (degradation), MISOGYNISTIC ideologies mentioned, manhandling, 1 thigh smack, cum eating, cunnilingus, fellatio (head pushing & rough), belly bulge, throat bulge, size kink, mentions of fingering, hair is referred to as 'cascading' on one occasion. sex on a futon (just so it won't be confusing).

if there are any more warnings i should add please let me know. not proof read!

naoya is awful.

he is a horrible man.

everyone knows it.

whether it be due to the countless stories everyone gossips about or witnessing firsthand the vicious things he does.

you were privy to outrageous hearsay spreading but you did not care enough to understand.

as far as you know, he is a powerful man.

and in your clan, you bow down to powerful men.

you have been fed lies that you do not have much to offer.

women were responsible for wifely duties and child bearing.

it is all you learned your entire life.

you are surprised when there is news of a member of the zenin clan's impending visitation. the people within your district make countless preparations and take any precaution necessary to ensure they meet naoya's standard. the last thing they want is to face his acrimony.

there are rumours of a potential alliance and it seems exceedingly promising to be closely associated with such a powerful family.

the day of his arrival, everything looks auspicious. you are shocked at the innumerable women adorned in luxurious clothing and decked in lavish jewellery.

you certainly do not understand all the fuss about him. you swore everyone hated him.

the welcome is extravagant and curiosity gets the best of you because you find yourself tip toeing to catch sight of him.

he is definitely not what you expected. he is young, his expression is all too smug. you never had the opportunity to see him before but he is gorgeous. in every sense of the word.

he is the definition of it.

sharp narrow eyes were lined, push pink lips with a barely visible cupid's bow and a straight nose although the tip was slightly upturned. his brows were thin and straight. if anyone looked for long enough and he smiled you could see the indents of dimples. he was truly pretty.

naoya tells the head of your clan that an alliance will only be formed provided he receives something. that whatever he wishes must be granted to him for congruity in return.

somehow, someway he pinpoints you in a crowd of too many people.

you were astonished when his stony eyes found yours. you try to tell yourself, you are not the one. it must be someone else. it has to be! you are proven wrong when your mother grips your arm and drags you up to him.

she bows, her hand roughly shoving your head down while you fidget. his stare is heavy, it makes you want to hide away. your parents practically offer you to him on a silver platter.

your eyes look everywhere but at him while he requests a room. unabashedly he speaks for everyone to witness.

his fingers find your chin, tipping your head back to look over your face. he towers over you. "dress her up." his voice is raspy and deep. he speaks to your mother though he does not spare her a glance.

you are speechless, you can only imagine what it means. an uncontrollable amount of thoughts pile into your head as your mother takes you away.

virginity means everything to a young girl like you. you need to be one to get married. it is your clan's way of life so why do your parents not care? your mother dresses you in the finest silk, something they could never afford before. she knots your hair in a bun and it hurts when she pulls at the strands.

decorative pins are stuck into your hair, some nicking your scalp. she drapes a heavy chain around your neck and squeezes your hand as she forces bracelets onto your wrists.

you look just like every other woman that dolled up for naoya zenin in anticipation of his attention.

you realise your parents do not care for your dignity as they usher you into an intricately decorated room.

they crave the validation of everyone else more than they care about you. you always knew that but you never thought they would go to this extent.

"be good and listen to everything he says." your mom commands. she shoves you to your knees on the thick layers of satin.

"this is for everyone's betterment." your father adds like it would make any of this right. you have no choice in the matter.

they were giving you up for naoya to do whatever he pleased because they were greedy for admiration.

you worry what it meant for you afterwards. you worry what people would think once you left these four walls.

the door slams shut upon their exit, you nervously shift. you wonder if you could run away. the weight of the jewellery feels uncomfortable, the clothes are so thick you swear you are sweating. they seem impossible to do anything in.

it feels like an eternity when naoya enters. his broad back faces you as he closes the door. his presence is intimidating, his aura is immense.

you swallow hard.

you are only to speak when spoken to.

yet you want to ask what took him so long.

why did you chose me?

what are you going to do to me?

you cannot question him. that is not your place.

you are sitting, hands anxiously twitching where they rest on your thighs. your eyes drop to the floor as he faces you.

he draws closer, your breathing stops as he circles you. he does it slowly, intently like he wants to memorise you from every angle.

you feel like prey, you are awaiting your predator to strike. there is absolutely no escape. his gaze sears into your being.

in a way he is scary. "strip." his deep voice instructs. your body tenses, breathing more laboured. you are unmoving as he steps closer. he cups your head, it is softer than you expected. he tilts you back to look at him, you are made aware of his bulge right in front of your face.

it is when he grips your hair, disheveling your bun that you realise it is all pretence. you shriek as he forcefully lifts you to your knees. the way you reach for his hand is futile because you cannot stop him no matter how hard you try.

"don't make me speak twice, y/n." you wonder how he knew your name. you were no one. you were not anyone important to this clan or world. "now take your fucking clothes off before i do it myself."

he shoves you back, you just barely brace yourself. his nimble fingers reach for the laces on his robe as he undoes them with ease. tears prick your eyes, you shakily tug at your bracelets. your movements are frantic enough to send them scattered across the floor. you rip the necklace from your throat, it stings where it nicks your skin.

your hands endlessly tremble when you pull off the layers of heavy fabric draped on you. you are too busy removing your clothing to see that he is already bare.

once you are rid of anything that preserves your modesty, you fold your arms to hide your body. a man has never seen you like this and you never thought the first time would be under this circumstance.

naoya's eyes trail over you, he is already hard. it is borderline painful. he was hard from simply thinking about you obediently waiting for him.

you feel his presence behind you, he lowers himself to his knees. his hands reach for your shoulders first. they are large and rough, they elicit goosebumps across your skin as he trails them down to caress your arms.

he pulls you into him, the hardness of his chest meeting your back. his arms surround your body and you tense at the feeling of his heated cock brushing your skin. his dexterous fingers remove the pins from your hair, he undoes the bun to allow the strands to cascade down your back. he brushes it over your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your nape.

you are shocked by the softness of them. he trails more kisses down the upper part of your spine. it is mind muddling.

"i can tell you haven't fucked before." you jolt at the sound of his gruff voice. his warm breath meets your skin and you shiver. his forearm comes around your front to keep you flush against him.

"spread your legs, let me see your cunt." he speaks without any shame. you hesitate and his displeasure is evident because his palm connects with the flesh of your thigh so hard that you shriek. your skin stings.

you have no choice but to open your legs for him. he slips his hands between them, his wide palm cupping your cunt.

you cannot breathe. it is all so overwhelming. you notice the evident veins on his lower arm as his hand covers your sex completely. it dawns on you that you have never had this intimacy before. you have never even touched where he would be.

he clicks his tongue, his presence makes you anxious. everything he does makes you tense.

he grimaces, you are not wet. not in the slightest.

naoya removes his hand to spit into his fingers, the fluid is pressed to your clit as he strokes it. he does not like the way you bite down on your lip to muffle your sounds. he hates it.

he rolls the bundle of nerves, pinching it before he slowly trails his fingers down your slit. the tip of his finger prods your entrance, gliding along it though he does not enter.

your smaller hands grip his forearm and for some reason it makes him hug your body tighter.

you breathe shakily in anticipation of his next move. it is a foreign feeling to be caressed but you can hardly complain. it is the furthest thing from unpleasant. it annoys you how good it feels.

"i'm shoving my cock in here." he huffs. the length of his finger coaxing through your lips has you writhing.

"going to stick my dick in this little hole and make you my bitch." his words are vulgar. the obscenity of his remarks have you furrowing your brows.

"it sounds good, right? having your pussy filled to the brim. i'll even fuck my cum into you." his jaw presses into your temple and you unsurely blink. he is so big, you feel like you are tucked into him.

he pinches your clit and you choose to focus on that rather than what he is saying. it feels good, enough to make you squirm. each time he does it, your cunt leaks with liquid. his entire palm strokes up and down, smearing sticky liquid over your cunt.

"naoya." you mewl. he has you spread open on his lap as he strokes your dripping pussy. he knows one thing for certain, your pretty voice forming his name is the greatest thing he has ever heard. he loves the sounds you make because of him.

you are so wet now, you are drenched and leaking. the sticky liquid trails out of your slit endlessly. his fingers steadily collect it and your lips part when he pulls away. your eyes follow his hand as he brings the sodden liquid digits near his mouth.

it is dirty. it is gross, it must be. somehow, you find yourself entranced. his tongue slips out to lave over his drenched palm.

"so fucking messy." he grits his teeth, he tilts his head to you. his wet hand grips your jaw, "you always taste so good." he presses his mouths to yours.

you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he aggressively kisses you. despite your inexperience you try to replicate him.

his expression looks irritated as he wetly separates from you. he forces you onto your back, leaning over you. his eyes glimpse at your cunt and they trail up your body.

you are on display for his prying eyes. he gropes your breasts, kissing and licking down your sternum. you are delirious as he sucks on your skin. he kisses all the way up to your jaw before he covers your mouth with his.

he licks into your mouth until you are a breathless mess.

"i'm not prepping you. m'not." he squeezes your jaw. "the first thing i'm stuffing in your pussy is my cock and it's gonna hurt. it'll hurt a lot but you deserve it." he airily speaks, his eyes dark.

you stare in confusion, panic sets in your chest. what wrong did you do? you wonder what warranted having your virginity stripped with no compassion.

you were more than aware he did not care for you.

as far as you know, you are suppose to pride yourself in your virginity. you were to save it for your husband and no one else. the man between your legs is a stranger, the man telling you such nasty things is nothing to you.

you swallow hard as you stare at his intimidating size. the head of his cock is purplish and dripping pre cum. his shaft is thick and it seems to go on forever. you wonder how it is suppose to fit inside you.

naoya grasps his aching cock to tap the head on your clit. you try to move away, you really do but he is so strong. he is completely unmoving. he coats his tip in your slick before pressing into your hole.

despite how tight you are, despite how big and thick he is. you shove at his abdomen, his abs flexing under your palms. "naoya please." tears stream down your cheeks but he relents. he cups your thighs to bring them over his and spread you open.

his rough fingers find your perked clit, rubbing it in aggressive circles. you hate to admit it but it feels too good. your hands clamp down on your mouth to mute the moans escaping you.

you gush on him with no fanfare. this entire circumstance makes you feel like an easy slut. he presses more into you, reaching the ridge where his cock and shaft meet. your legs jolt the further his girth fills you.

your insides squeeze and clamp down trying to deny his intrusion, you make naoya crazy. "fucking stop." he hisses. you are like a vice around his pulsing cock.

he says what you should be saying. you should be telling him to stop but you do not. you should be screaming and crying, telling him to get off of you but that is the last thing in your head.

it feels good. more of him is pressed into you and your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. it is an unfamiliar feeling but the pressure in your abdomen is more pleasurable than painful. you find yourself adjusting, you are still so tight that naoya loses his mind.

he presses down on your clit an inch accompanying the motion and you shriek at the feeling. he continually rocks his hips, slowly coaxing over your bundle of nerves. your hands find purchase in the sheets, panting while you try to gather your bearings.

the stimulation has you fidgeting, it has you moaning his name endlessly. your thighs tremble on either side of him and your expression is contorted at the feeling. he looks down at your body, tongue slipping out to coat his lips and you find yourself wishing it was in your mouth, on your skin. anywhere you wanted him.

he leans down, his muscles rippling and the flesh along his abs bunching in little rolls, his biceps are almost as big as your head. you feel like he was strong enough to lift you with one finger. he seemed that way, strong and mighty in all that he did.

his hips shallowly move to thrust the portion of his length he has managed to shove into you. "you're fucking me." you stutter, your voice barely audible. you have never spoken those words, have never even conjured them up.

naoya's eyes flash, his large hand spanning over your stomach, trailing between your breasts and then gripping your throat. "m'not. but i can, i can fuck you so deep you feel it here." he squeezes the sides of your neck, eyes glancing to your leaking cunt that soaks him even though he has not gotten to the hilt.

the warmth and tightness of you makes him ache to have his entire cock deep in your pussy but you are little and you are looking at him with the sweetest eyes.

he wants to hurt you, he wants to make you cry but you are so adorable. "i can fuck you and have your belly bulging every. single. time. i shove my cock in your dripping cunt."

you have never had someone speak to you like that. you never heard those words strung together nor spoken in such a depraved tone.

you wonder how he could be this handsome. you wonder what led him here, with you.

"i'll make this pussy mine whether you want it or not but you want it, don't you? you want me to fuck you, you want me to have you shaped to my cock and mine alone" he pants. you nod your head, you swear there is cotton between your ears, there is empty space perhaps but there is surely not a working brain.

not after he painted such an image of him fucking you like you were his and turned it to mush. "say it. say it all, say you want naoya zenin to fuck you." you whine, he squeezes your throat, his grip so strong you swore he could crush it to dust.

you whine and babble and your hips move to get more of the stimulation as he shallowly fucks you. your hands find his broad shoulders, just barely gripping them and he leans down. no you could never move someone like him, he let you. he conceded because it is you.

his face is so close, he is composed and collected while you are a mess beneath him. "i want naoya zenin to fuck me" your voice is broken by a moan as he forces more of himself into you.

you whine in his face "i want him to claim me, break me. i only want him in my cunt." your voice is a warbled mess and for some reason naoya did not expect you to be so nasty. to tell him those things. claiming you is one thing but breaking you?

he would do more than break you. he would wreck every inch of you, destroy and decimate it all, there would be no way to return you to what you were.

"then loosen up, slut." you cannot mute the scream that escapes you when the thickness of his girth is pushed entirely into your walls. your legs desperately hook on his hips, so tense they feel sore.

it burns, it hurts and stings but it feels unbelievably good, it did not feel like something you could fathom in a real world only in fantasy.

why, why, why? why does it feel so good? you had no expectations of sex. absolutely none.

when the women spoke they did not entertain such topics. was this what they did behind closed doors? did such depravity remain hidden while they portrayed themselves as saints?

he is so hot, you feel him everywhere. he is nestled inside you like he belongs there, he throbs into your gummy walls.

his large palm graces your tummy, gliding to your lower abdomen. he presses down and you sigh in unison. your eyes wildly look down. "look where my cock is in you, you really are too small to take it."

he is not your husband, he should not have stuffed his cock all the way inside you that his head impresses in your stomach. what right did he have to lay claim?

it does not matter, not anymore. he has your cunt wrapped around him and your body does not protest. no, your body welcomes him with endless slick. it yearns and begs for him. it felt like you were just waiting for him to come and take you.

he pulls out until only his leaking head is enclosed by your cunt. his expression is pleased at the sight of red streaks along him. "got your blood all over my cock. y'know what that means?"

your head is too empty to hear, to function. you cannot quite make out his words but the sound of his voice makes you mewl. you are soaking him again and again.

"means you're all mine." you eyes roll as he shallowly pumps into you. you swear you cannot see beyond him.

his hands grope the perimeter of your waist. "i haven't even fucked you yet and you already look like a brain dead whore." he coos but his eyes are dark.

he is caught up in the sight of your dripping slit stretched around the girth of his cock. his strong thighs flex, you shriek when he starts pounding into you.

naoya bullies his cock into your pussy that will not stop pulsing around him. you are so tight he sees stars. your insides are gooey and warm. he wants to be wrapped in you forever.

his abs strain, his cock is coated in your juices. slick strands are covering him. the more he slams into you the nastier sounds your pussy makes.

"shouldn't be this tight or feel this good." he huffs, he uses your body like a sex doll. he holds you down and thrusts into you so hard your skin stings. every loud collision of his flesh with yours hurts.

"you're my slut, fuck, you're the only bitch i want." your entire body shakes with the weigh of his movements. your eyes water and you fist the soaked sheets.

naoya looks too good above you. the sweat on his forehead dampens his hair and his muscles shift every time he sinks back inside you.

you are delirious, he did as he said he would, he makes your stomach bulge over and over again. he turns your brain into useless chum.

your cunt sputters liquid, his movements are flurried and aggressive. your sex loudly squelches. you never thought it would feel this good.

every vein on his cock slides along your gummy insides, you feel like you are about to pass out. "a whore like you doesn't deserve to cum but i need to feel you gripping me. i need to know how tight your pussy gets when you're cumming." his fingers find your buzzing clit.

"m'not a whore."

"you're getting fucked like one."

all you can focus on is him, he rolls your clit with experience. a part of you hates that despite him being nothing to you. your vision is blurred by tears but blinking them away allows you to see him.

his body seems like a sculpture. every muscle is evident for prying eyes. beads of sweat leak down his temple and his jaw is locked. he looks unreal. you wish he was yours although you do not know him. you have no relation but he is stretching out your cunt and making it his.

your hand grips his, head thrown back as you writhe on the sheets. you breathe in exasperation as his much larger fingers intertwine with yours. he is holding your hand. he is holding it while he pummels your insides.

you are too sensitive and too overwhelmed. when you cum, your entire body trembles. your eyes squeeze tightly and you clamp down on him like a vice. you cream on his cock your entire body coated in sweat while you shake.

the sight of you throws him over the edge.

"shit, fuck, no one is as good as you. no one." he grits his teeth, eyes fluttering. his length is soaked in you, strands coating him and the harder he pounds the more frothy cream collects at his base.

"want you like this forever." his body covers you completely. his arms wrap around your waist to hold you tight to him. all his weight is pressed into you, desperately thrusting his hips as he chases his release.

despite how you whine and cry at the excessive stimulation. your nails digging into his flesh and scratching lines down his skin.

you seem to mark another area of his back every time he pounds into you.

his movements have your body jerking and his muscles flexing. your cunt feels like it is forcefully drawing the orgasm from him, his teeth grit and his eyes flicker as they threaten to roll back.

he is so powerful but right now he looks like he is losing it. his mouth roughly presses into yours, his tongue and spit in excess and his hips stutter for a moment before he slams into you so hard your cunt squelches.

his hips rock as he stays flush to you and for the first time you are getting filled up. it is even hotter than his cock, it sears along your walls, endlessly pouring and leaking as he grows soft.

"you take it so well for a virgin." he pants before his lips claim yours in a nasty kiss.

he says that like he has not already stripped that title from you.

his weight crushes you beneath him but somehow it is comforting. somehow you like it. you like that there is no space between you and him.

your arms reach around his neck, tears streaked down your cheeks while your mouth desperately returns his kiss.

he briefly parts before leaning back in. it is unfair that he has everything. he is too pretty and he seems to be good at everything.

you whine when he sits up on his knees, your hands losing their grip on his muscles. his eyes train where his cock still fills you.

you wince while he slowly pulls out, the cum still dripping out of you. you feel empty without him.

he takes in the cum leaking from your used cunt. all he can think about is doing it again and again. without tire or care. a surprisingly gentle touch swipes your hair from your face before he strokes your cheek and leans down.

his soft lips though swollen softly move along yours. he breathes a bit more laboured as his hands touch and squeeze along your body and his kisses make their way from your neck to your sternum and tits.

you are panting while he trails open mouthed kisses on your skin. his eyes do not leave yours and they are so golden you swear they glow.

your body grows tense when he drifts lower than your belly and suddenly he is kissing right above your cum filled slit and your inner thighs.

"you're so soft." you did not expect it. was that a good thing? his breath is so close to your pussy, it is weird to think he was just inside you.

you squeal, a hand covering your mouth as his tongue swipes over your cunt. "naoya, that's dirty." your voice is muffled beneath your palm, all he does is clamp his mouth on your clit and suck.

laughing into your cunt before his tongue is gliding up and down your slit endlessly.

a man of his calibre was between your legs with his mouth in such a place. it did not make sense. his heated muscle slips into your pussy, saliva coating you in excess.

your feet lift onto the tip of your toes while you moan. you moan for naoya like you were made for it, made for him.

his fingers gently caress the back of your thighs, all while he sloppily sucks up your messy cunt.

he does not want to stop, his cum is inside of you, it is in your pussy.

he came there. he came within your silky walls and he will never stop thinking about it, about you. he pulls back, licking his lips and nipping the flesh of your thigh before trailing his tongue along your slit.

his cum is still seeping out despite the amount he lapped up from your hole. there are sticky strands of liquid on his jaw and mouth as he brings his face to yours

"it's not dirty. what's filthy, is that you let me fuck you like a cock hungry slut." his large palms grasp your tits while you are speechless.

"is that what you are, my cockslut?" you find yourself nodding your head, whimpering in agreement.

you just want to be something to him.

his thumb strokes over your lips while he grips your face, you are so much smaller his entire hand seems to hold it. "you think you can suck me off? get me nice and wet in that little mouth and make me cum?"

you stare up at him with the prettiest wide eyes. you were crying for so long. you cry so much it makes him hard. "i can." you softly whisper and naoya cannot help but kiss you sweetly.

he nips your lips, laving his tongue over them before he sits next to you.

you swallow, he helps you up by a firm grip on your upper arm. your head feels light.

you are surprised when his hand cups the back of your head and shoves down. his erect cock presses against your cheek. "c'mon, don't waste time."

your hand unsurely surrounds the base, you cannot believe something like this had managed to fit inside you. naoya sighs at the softness. your tongue clumsily laps at his slit, the taste of his cum and your juices filling your mouth.

your lips enclose just before his shaft, your mouth insanely warm it makes naoya pant. "take more of it, i don't fucking care if it's your first time." he gruffly says. you are perched on your knees with his cock in your mouth.

moments before you had never seen one in your life.

you are so unsure, you lower on him but the second his tip brushes the back of your throat you gag. you lurch, the muscles constricting around him.

you pull back frantically, coughing as you clutch your throat. naoya finds your eyes more teary. "so fuckin dramatic." he tuts.

his tip presses against the seam of your lips and you have no choice but to open up.

you really do try to be good. you try your hardest to take more but it seems never ending. you gag so much desperately trying to get him seated deep in your throat. but you can't.

that tight little throat of yours can hardly get even half of him in on your own.

"you're shit at this." he laughs airily. you are drooling so much it is insanely messy, he never had it like this before.

every bit of him says to bruise the back of your throat, to fist your hair and fuck into your mouth so that every inch of him feels the silky walls of your throat.

he listens.

at first, his fingers gently caress through your hair. it lasts for a second before he is pushing your head down. your throat constricts and he shudders. he cannot tell which liquid that drips onto his skin is your spit or tears. 

he is vicious and rough. constantly bobbing your head along his cock regardless of how you choke. the sloppy noises are all he needs to get there. the feeling of your gooey throat objecting his forceful intrusion. your muscles resisting. "fuck you're such a good bitch. little baby throat s'taking it all."

his body tenses, hips stuttering to fuck into your mouth. he does not usually come this fast. he shoves you down until your lips surround his base. he swears he can see your throat bulging from his cock. your hot sticky saliva drip all over him as he shallowly ruts his hips.

naoya grits his teeth, moaning loudly before he spews cum down your throat. you jerk in confusion but he does not release you. your hands scramble. he feels you swallowing around him but it is not enough.

liquid spills past the perimeter of his cock.

he tugs you off, your mouth wetly separating with a sticky pop.

"you look pretty like this." your hair is knotted, tear streaks coat your cheeks, your lips are swollen from sucking his dick and his cum is spewed in your mouth in a sticky web. it drips down your jaw but he still kisses you.

still does it all sweetly and cups your cheeks as if he is a nice man.

you eagerly accept it. you kiss and kiss and his salty cum is messily exchanged. you are a breathless mess when he pulls away with spit still connecting you.

"so stupid." he shoves your forehead with his forefinger. you want to cry. he leaves you sitting while he lies on the sodden sheets.

it hurts to hear. you sniffle, looking at him. you let all this happen. you slept with him. this is not some lucid sex dream, it really occurred. he came in you, he touched you everywhere.

he had you in way a man never did before.

you are crying for a different reason now. when the lust that clouded your brain finally dispels you realise everything is ruined.

"do you have any idea what you've done?" tears are profusely coating your cheeks, you tug the blanket to your chest.

you are hiding your body as though he has not violated every inch of it. as if his desecration has not tainted you in the form of bruises and cum.

naoya breathes, his eyes rolling as he folds his arms under his head. "i fucked a bitch, s'all."

your face contorts in more pain. this was never supposed to be your life. you meant nothing to the man who was just inside you.

you were nothing to him. "i can't get married now."

naoya looks angry. the muscles in his arms flex, eyes flitting over to you.

in a second he sits up, the expanse of his palm covers your throat. it draws a sound of shock from you. his face is all too close and you wince at the flashes of him fucking you as they are forced into your mind.

how can you forget it? especially when he is at this proximity, when his hands were all over your body and now he simply held your neck.

his gaze flits downwards, he is angry without a doubt. it is hard to not see it when his skin is flushed red and his jaw is locked.

he rips the sheet from your body before he roughly shakes you.

your eyes flash in panic as you grip his tightening hand. "you have me and you want to marry some lowlife prick from your shitty clan?" he hisses into your face, his nose brushing yours over the nonexistent distance.

you gasp for air because he holds too tight. "you weren't a good fuck. not at all." his hand slips between your legs to cup your cum filled cunt and you blanch.

"you're just a prissy little virgin but you're pretty. i'll give it to you, you're gorgeous." without any warning his digits slide inside of you.

it is forceful and rough as he repeatedly thrusts his long fingers into the soaked walls of your pussy. you grit your teeth. it should not feel good. it should not but you cannot help the uninhibited movement of your hips.

your legs practically part for him on instinct despite how badly you want him to get away from you. that is what you want, right?

you should not want him and your eyes that are trailing all over his defined muscles should be looking to the heavens for some hope.

they should not be gleaming at his pretty features or his damp hair. "and you'll be one hell of a bitch but you gotta prove it to me before i marry you." marriage.

oh marriage, marriage, marriage.

it had been on your mind since you were a little girl. you have ached and dreamed and wished upon the stars for it to find you.

"how?" his brows tilt at your broken voice. he shoves you down until your head meets the wooden flooring and your back stings at the impact.

he is over you, his shadow casting along your figure. "let me fuck you. submit yourself to me alone. if ever you touch another man, i'll know."

his voice is deep, his expression dark. he is terrifying, you wonder how someone so pretty could look so horrific. you swallow hard.

"i'd kill him and i'd kill you." his eyes do not leave yours for a second. he brings your legs around his narrow waist, the weigh of his erection digging into the flesh of your inner thighs.

"but if you be good, i'll marry you. i'll take you away from this place."

you want so desperately to escape, you want so desperately to be anywhere but here. you want to be with him even if he is awful.

"will you marry me?" your fingers itch with the urge to draw him closer, your voice a warbled mess. your legs tighten around him, you want him close. so close.

it seems he knows because he nears until his body is flush to yours. until you are engulfed by his scent and the hardness of his figure.

"i swear it." his eyes flick to your lips, so close to him that they brush with his words. his admission has you gripping his cheeks and kissing him.

it's an inexperienced and sloppy kiss but you do as best as you can and naoya finds your mouth one of his favourite things.

tears leak from your eyes as he shoves his entire length into you and your body tenses.

for the second time that night he claims you.

---

despite wanting to be angry at him, you cannot. not when he kissed every bruise he left on your skin, not when he pressed his lips to yours like you meant something to him.

not when he tugged you into his side and you find revery in his scent.

something about naoya is so comforting you find yourself falling asleep with no issue.

or maybe it is because he used and exhausted your body.

he has you wrapped in his arms with familiarity. your face mushed to his chest and your leg thrown over his waist.

his thumb coaxes along your back, his face nuzzling your hair. you look adorable, you look too precious. even in your sleep you press into him more.

naoya wants to burn the sight into his brain.

you are his forever.

"my soul always searches for yours but you have never remembered mine. not once." he whispers into the air although you cannot hear it.

although you do not respond.

isn't he so dreamy ^^

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Seeds of Manipulation

Summary - Aegon and Aemond tease their nephew Jace about his impending marriage to a Dornish woman. When she arrives, she faces Jace's cold indifference and his uncle's provocative questions. Realising his grave mistake, Jace must now find a way to undo the damage.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2044

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"I hear you are to wed a Dornish woman," Aegon said with a smirk, drawing out each word with deliberate taunt. He leaned casually against the ornate chair in the dimly lit chamber, his demeanor relaxed yet his eyes alight with mischief. 

Jace stood opposite him, a mix of curiosity and unease flickering across his face.

Aemond, the younger of the two brothers, couldn't resist adding to the teasing. His voice carried a conspiratorial tone as he chimed in, "You know what they say about women from Dorne?"

"Passionate, hot-blooded, and especially open and free in their relationships," Aegon continued smoothly, his smirk widening as he sensed the growing worry in Jace's expression.

It was a performance, a theatrical dance of words meant to provoke and amuse in equal measure.

Aegon, ever the instigator, couldn't resist further stoking the flames. "Do not worry, nephew," he mockingly reassured, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "As your uncles, we will be there to guide you, to help you understand how women like that are to be tamed."

Aemond, perhaps sensing his brother's theatrical cue, stepped closer to Jace, his voice lowering to a foreboding whisper.

"Sleep well, nephew," he murmured, his tone laced with an eerie certainty. "Her arrival tomorrow will surely bring a lifetime of sleepless nights."

It was a parting shot, delivered with a dramatic flourish that left Jace momentarily speechless, contemplating what awaited him.

With that, the brothers left the chambers, satisfied with the seeds of anxiety they had planted.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

I had heard tales of the splendour and majesty of King's Landing, but nothing could have prepared me for the grandiosity of the Red Keep. Its towering walls and labyrinthine corridors seemed crafted to awe and intimidate alike.

Stepping from the carriage, the warm sun cast a golden glow over the bustling courtyard, filling me with a flutter of excitement. Today marked the occasion I would meet my betrothed, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.

My parents were quickly ushered away to meet with his, leaving me alone with only my handmaiden by my side. Clad in flowing fabrics and jewels from my homeland, I walked through the gardens with measured steps, my feet sinking slightly into the soft, dew-kissed grass.

Near a fountain, I spotted him amidst a small group of companions who whispered and giggled among themselves. His brown locks caught the sunlight, lending him an ethereal aura as his eyes scanned the courtyard with detached interest. 

He was handsome, there was no denying it, handsome in a way that made my heart flutter despite my resolve.

Approaching, he turned his gaze towards me, his expression unreadable. "Lady Martell," he greeted with a curt nod, his voice cool and detached.

"Prince Jacaerys," I replied politely, offering a respectful curtsey. "It is an honour to finally make your acquaintance."

He gave a brief, dismissive smile before turning back to his companions. "Yes, well, I trust your journey was not too arduous."

Suppressing a frown, I replied, "It was lengthy, but I am grateful for the hospitality extended."

"Of course," he murmured, his attention already drifting away. "If you'll excuse me."

And just like that, he walked away, leaving me standing there amidst the curious gazes of his companions. I felt a pang of disappointment and confusion. He had barely acknowledged me, let alone shown any interest in getting to know me. 

Was this how our marriage was to be, a mere formality, devoid of any warmth or connection?

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"She is quite captivating," Aemond remarked, his voice carrying across the garden where he sat under a large oak tree with Aegon and Jace. 

Their eyes followed me as I laughed with my handmaidens, the sound mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.

"Indeed she is," Aegon agreed casually, taking a leisurely sip from his cup. His eyes, a blend of appraisal and amusement, followed my every movement.

"The jewels, the silks, the daring cut of her dress, all promising signs, wouldn't you say?" His tone was teasing, laced with a hint of admiration for the boldness and allure that seemed to surround me.

Jace swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their words like a lead ball in his chest. He couldn't deny the truth in their observation, that I held a beauty that stirred something within him, despite his efforts to remain aloof.

Seeing me sitting there laughing among others, he felt a sudden pang of hurt pierce through him. The sound of my laughter, so carefree and genuine, contrasted sharply with the turmoil he felt inside.

He hadn't anticipated that he would regret his earlier dismissal of me so deeply. The weight of his earlier words and actions now seemed unbearably foolish as he watched me from a distance, wishing he could turn back time.

"She is rather striking," he admitted reluctantly, his voice barely above a murmur. 

Aegon and Aemond exchanged knowing glances, their smirks evident as they clapped him on the shoulder before rising to approach me.

"Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond," I greeted evenly as they seated themselves opposite me. 

Despite their jovial demeanour, I sensed an undercurrent of intent beneath their charm.

"Lady Martell, do tell us," Aegon began smoothly, his voice laced with a hint of mischief, "are all the women in Dorne as beautiful as you?"

Heat rose to my cheeks at the unabashed flattery, my eyes instinctively seeking out Jace, who watched the exchange with guarded interest.

"You flatter me, my prince," I replied coolly, masking the unease that simmered beneath my composed exterior. 

"We hear the people of Dorne are quite... free-spirited," Aemond interjected, his tone suggestive. 

The implication hung heavy in the air, and it dawned on me their words were not merely idle curiosity but a deliberate attempt to test my mettle, to gauge my reaction. I was well aware of their game now, the subtle probing, the veiled insinuations meant to unsettle and provoke.

Turning slightly to my handmaidens, I saw their heads bowed, their discomfort palpable. 

It was clear they understood the precariousness of our situation and that this was not a casual conversation but a calculated manoeuvre.

I returned my attention to Aegon and Aemond, meeting their expectant gazes with a steely resolve. 

"Indeed, Dorne is known for its spirited culture," I replied evenly, choosing my words carefully. "We value freedom and independence, traits that define our people."

Aegon's smirk widened, savouring each flicker of discomfort he caused, each slight tremor in my voice. His demeanour was unabashedly provocative, leaning forward with exaggerated interest as his eyes shamelessly roamed, causing an uncomfortable shift in my posture.

"Ah, independence," he drawled, his voice carrying a teasing edge. "Tell us, Lady Martell, how does such independence manifest itself in matters of... affection?" 

The words were loaded with innuendo, his tone challenging and amused, knowing full well the implications of his inquiry.

Aemond joined in with a low chuckle, his voice adding a darker hue to the conversation. 

"Yes, are the tales true? Do Dornish women truly embrace passion and love with such abandon?" His eyes flickered with mischievous curiosity.

Their words, laced with presumption, were a direct challenge to my dignity and honour. Anger boiled within me, but I maintained a composed facade, though barely. 

I shot a sharp glance towards Jace, silently pleading for his support, but he remained frustratingly silent, his expression betraying a mix of discomfort and indecision.

"You mistake our customs for scandalous tales," I retorted, my voice now tinged with restrained fury. "Dorne's ways are founded on respect and mutual understanding, not fodder for your amusement."

Aegon's amusement faltered, replaced by a flicker of irritation. 

"Come now, Lady Martell," he persisted, his tone more pointed. "Surely you can provide us with a glimpse into the... freedom that defines your people?"

Aemond's chuckle at his brother's words grated on my nerves, pushing me further towards the edge of my patience. 

"I will not entertain your disrespectful curiosity," I shot back, my words sharp and cutting. "Nor will I dignify your insinuations with a response."

Their smirks wavered, replaced by a tense silence that hung heavy in the air. 

Aegon and Aemond exchanged a glance, the unspoken understanding passing between them. They had expected compliance or embarrassment, not defiance.

With a curt nod of dismissal, I rose from my seat, every movement deliberate and controlled. 

"Excuse me," I said coolly, unable to hide the sharp edge in my voice. "I have matters to attend to."

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away briskly, the echoes of their conversation fading behind me. My steps were fueled by a mixture of anger and resolve, a determination to assert my dignity and worth in the face of their disrespect.

As I moved farther from their presence, I felt a rush of relief mingled with lingering frustration. 

They had tested me, sought to diminish me with their crude jests and probing questions but I had stood my ground, refusing to be belittled or objectified.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"Lady Martell," a voice called out as I sat in the library, idly flipping through the pages of a book. 

"Prince Jacaerys," I replied with a hint of detachment, not particularly interested in whatever he had to say now.

"Please, if you will allow me a moment of your time," he pleaded softly, his tone earnest. I sighed inwardly, closing my book and reluctantly looking up to meet his gaze.

He stood before me, a conflicted expression on his face that betrayed a mix of remorse and determination. 

"I must apologize for the behaviour of my uncles," he began, his voice carrying a sincerity that caught me off guard. "Their words were out of line, and I understand if you feel offended or disrespected."

I regarded him coolly, the memory of Aegon and Aemond's probing questions still fresh in my mind. 

"They questioned not only my character but my dignity and disrespected my heritage" I stated flatly, my tone tinged with lingering frustration. "I cannot wed someone who shares those beliefs."

Jace shook his head quickly, his expression earnest as he met my gaze. 

"You misunderstand," he insisted firmly. "Their words were inappropriate and fueled by misguided jest. I do not share their views, nor do I condone their behaviour."

His words made me pause, uncertainty flickering briefly in my eyes. I had expected defensiveness or excuses, not this unexpected show of contrition from him.

"I find that hard to believe," I replied sceptically, my voice softening slightly despite myself.

He took a step closer, his sincerity palpable. 

"Lady Martell, I assure you," he continued, his voice earnest. "I hold you in the highest regard. What my uncles said does not reflect my beliefs or how I view you."

I searched his eyes for any hint of deception, but all I found was a genuine earnestness that resonated within me. Slowly, I nodded, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. 

"Very well," I conceded quietly. "But know that I will not tolerate such disrespect in the future."

Jace nodded solemnly, his expression grave. "You have my word," he affirmed, his voice steady. "I will ensure that you are treated with the utmost respect and dignity."

With a nod of acknowledgement, I returned his gaze evenly, reassured by his pledge. As I turned back to my book, Jace remained for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.

"Lady Martell," he said finally, breaking the silence, "I hope that in time you will see the sincerity of my words. The bond we are to forge is important to me, not just politically, but personally."

His unexpected admission caught me off guard once more.

"And now," he said softly, reaching into a hidden pocket within his cloak, "a token of my sincerity." He extended his hand towards me, revealing a delicate lilac flower nestled within his palm. "I had heard that lilacs are your favourite."

I hesitated, my heart softening at the unexpected gesture. The flower was indeed my favourite. It was a small, thoughtful gesture, a glimmer of Jace's effort to bridge the gap between us.

"Thank you," I murmured sincerely, accepting the flower with a gentle touch. Its fragrance enveloped me, a subtle reminder of his genuine intentions.

He smiled softly, a hint of relief touching his features. "I hope this marks a new beginning for us, Lady Martell," he said earnestly.

I nodded, a faint smile playing on my lips. "As do I, Prince Jacaerys."

A/n - I need that dress in the image above like now 

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

New dad Astarion who is about to see his newborn child for the first time.

Of course, he expects his child to be the personification of serene beauty and divine grace. Them to have their father’s silken silvern locks, his immaculately chiselled features—the artwork perfected by Tav’s wonderful watercolour eyes…

And then he actually sees the child and—well—everybody assures him that, yes, Astarion, all babies look like that barely a half hour after birth…

He kind of has to take that at face value because he hasn’t seen an awful lot of newborns in his lifetime.

But it would’ve been nice if someone had told him that newborns happen to look like shrivelled potatoes, because he’s really, really trying to not let his bewilderment show. 

Astarion swallows. 

Tav’s beautiful eyes are watching him, waiting for a reaction—an enthusiastic one, no less. 

Maybe Tav will believe that he’s overcome with emotions at seeing his firstborn child? 

“Oh my, darling, I’m…speechless,” is all he can choke out, though, being rather proud that it’s at least not a lie. 

To his luck, Tav only nods dreamily, her full attention back on the odd little bundle in her arms.

“Isn’t she perfect?”

Yes, perfectly hideous. 

Astarion only hums in a way of reply.

That—his daughter, he supposes—is with no doubt one of the ugliest things he’s ever seen, but he has a feeling that his honesty wouldn’t be appreciated after Tav laboured for hours to give birth to this…potato-baby.

“Come, hold her, Astarion,” Tav says, then, bidding him to sit next to her on the bed.

The mattress shifts under Astarion’s weight and he obediently holds his arms out so that Tav can gently place the sleeping child against his chest.

Now that Astarion can take a better look, he can confirm that his daughter’s hair is of an indefinable colour and that her features are neither his nor Tav’s, plain as can be. Surely it won’t stay like that?

He and Tav are so ridiculously beautiful, their child can only be drop-dead gorgeous, right?

Astarion’s stomach drops indeed when, suddenly, something occurs to him. 

Oh dear, what if it’s his fault? He has no recollection of his family whatsoever; it’s very much possible that he and his immaculate looks are the exception in his lineage, and that he’s passed on only those mysterious less-than-perfect genes…Tav, as per usual, can’t be the issue!

Astarion is still catastrophizing when the bundle in his arms begins to stir.

All of a sudden, gold-speckled pale green eyes are looking up at him as if to ask what the fuck this weirdo’s problem might be. 

“Oh,” the weirdo in question exclaims at once. “Darling, look, she has your eyes!”

Tav, hugging him from behind, rests her chin on his shoulder, so she can watch as Astarion’s finger tenderly strokes their baby’s chubby cheek.

Their daughter also has, as it turns out, ten fingers and toes, a cute little nose and a hungry mouth—everything that’s supposed to be there is there, and it seems to be working fine, too—which is a huge relief. 

And aren’t those the tiniest pointy ears Astarion has ever seen? Let alone the unexpectedly strong fingers grasping at his!

Astarion, worries forgotten in a heartbeat, can’t help but smile at the baby in his arms. 

She is perfect, after all. 

Tav, face hidden in the crook of his neck, begins to tremble against his back. 

For a second, Astarion thinks she’s crying but then her laughter fills the chamber. It takes her a good moment to articulate whatever it is she finds so very funny.

“She'll grow out of it, you know?” Tav giggles in between her fits of laughter. 

Astarion stiffens. “Of what?”

“The turnip look. That’s what you’ve been worrying about the whole time, haven't you?”

“I was leaning more towards potatoes—but yes, I might’ve been a little worried about that,” Astarion admits sheepishly, although a grin is already tugging at his lips.  

Regaining her composure, Tav reaches over Astarion’s shoulder, her hand joining his as they get to know their child.

“Give it a couple of days and she will look like your proper little elf—beautiful just like her father.”

A content sigh leaves Astarion’s lips, right before he presses them against Tav’s temple.

“That’s the second best news I’ve heard today, my heart, truly.”