#this one might be a bit dark I apologize | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoshigray · 6 months ago

Note

I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!”

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure.

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby.

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet.

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room.

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff.

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now!

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows.

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.”

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold.

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie.

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes.

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly. “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by.

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies.

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit.

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!”

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.”

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more.

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?”

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure.

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance.

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

“Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict.

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity.

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.”

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax.

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth.

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior.

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub.

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane.

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?”

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh.

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

3K notes · View notes

theetherealbloom · 19 days ago

Text

You Got Me So In Love, I've Never Been This Possessive

Summary: While on a scenic boat trip along the coasts of Malta, you bask in the crystal-clear waters, and laughter with Pedro’s cast and crew. Despite his injured arm keeping him on the boat, Pedro can’t keep his eyes off you.

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Nudity, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Swimming, Bikini, Flirting, Teasing, Cast, Pedro Fell Down The Stairs, ER visit, Hurt-To-Comfort, Mild Spice, Banter, Idk Spanish so the terms might be wrong but I'm trying my best

Word Count: 5K

A/N: GOOD MORNING CHICKENS!!! Y’know how I said there would be a part two? Yup. Also, I know no one asked, but back in High School, I fell down the stairs… A LOT. Like every year for six years. No major bones were broken, only a sprained ankle every time I fell down the stairs, so in a way I guess I was lucky. PSA to always hold the hand railing, and like Pedro said, it can happen to anyone!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Te Quiero by KISS OF LIFE

← Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist |

PASCAL RESIDENCE, CHILE — AFTERNOON

The sun bathed the Pascal family home in a golden glow, the air filled with the scent of freshly baked empanadas and the gentle hum of conversation. You were seated on the patio, your legs tucked under you, watching as Pedro animatedly retold a story from his teenage years. His siblings—Javiera, Lux, and Nicolás—listened with rapt attention, their laughter bubbling over when Pedro’s dad chimed in with his version of events, insisting Pedro had exaggerated again.

“Exaggerated?” Pedro placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “I would never! Everything I say is 100% true and scientifically proven.”

“Scientifically proven to be full of nonsense,” Nicolás teased, earning a round of laughter.

You couldn’t help but grin, soaking in the easy camaraderie of the family. Pedro’s hand found yours under the table, his fingers lacing with yours in a way that felt like second nature. He glanced at you, his dark eyes soft with a love so deep it made your chest tighten.

“Tell them,” Pedro said, turning to you with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “Tell them I’m not lying.”

You bit back a laugh, tilting your head in mock consideration. “Well… the story did sound a bit too good to be true.”

“Et tu, mi amor?” he groaned, but the corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

Javiera, ever the ringleader, stood and declared, “Enough storytelling! Let’s put her to the test. If she’s going to be part of this family, she needs to learn brisca.”

Pedro leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Fair warning: They’ll gang up on you.”

“Good thing I’ve got you on my side,” you murmured, a soft blush rising to your cheeks.

“I’ll always be on your side,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple that sent a shiver down your spine.

A FEW HOURS LATER…

The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard. Pedro had wandered inside to grab more drinks for everyone while you stayed on the patio with Lux, discussing her latest project.

The sound of a crash shattered the peaceful air. You froze, the glass in Lux’s hand slipping and shattering on the ground.

“Pedro!” you gasped, bolting toward the house.

Inside, you found him crumpled at the base of the stairs, his face pale and contorted in pain. Nicolás was already at his side, his hands hovering uncertainly as if afraid to make things worse.

“Call an ambulance!” you shouted, your voice shaking as you knelt beside Pedro.

He looked up at you, his breaths shallow and uneven. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he said through gritted teeth, but his wince betrayed him.

“You’re not okay,” you said, your hands trembling as you gently brushed the hair from his forehead. “What happened?”

“I missed the last step,” he muttered, trying to manage a weak smile. “Guess I’m not as graceful as I thought.”

“Pedro, this isn’t funny,” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes.

Javiera appeared with the phone pressed to her ear, speaking rapidly to the emergency dispatcher. Lux crouched beside you, her face pale as she reached for Pedro’s uninjured hand.

“Help’s on the way,” Javiera assured you, her voice steady despite the panic in her eyes.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited for the ambulance. You kept your focus on Pedro, your hand gripping his tightly. “Just breathe, okay? I’m right here. You’re going to be fine.”

THE ER — EVENING

The antiseptic smell of the hospital hit you as you paced the waiting room, your heart pounding in your chest. Pedro had been whisked away for X-rays, and you felt helpless, the absence of his hand in yours leaving you cold.

When the doctor finally emerged, you rushed to meet him, Javiera and Nicolás close behind.

“Mr. Pascal has a broken arm,” the doctor explained. “It’s a clean break, but he’ll need surgery to set the bone properly. We’re scheduling it for late January.”

Relief and worry collided in your chest. “Can I see him?” you asked, your voice small.

The doctor nodded, and you followed the nurse to Pedro’s room. He was sitting up in bed, his arm in a temporary sling, his face pale but his smile still intact.

“Hey, troublemaker,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

You crossed the room in a few quick steps, perching on the edge of his bed. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” you said, your voice breaking as tears spilled over.

Pedro reached for your hand with his good arm, his thumb brushing soothing circles over your knuckles. “I’m sorry, mi amor,” he murmured, his eyes glistening.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “I thought… I thought something worse happened. I couldn’t breathe until I saw you.”

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice steady despite the pain. “And I’ll be fine. Especially with you by my side.”

You kissed him gently, pouring every ounce of love and relief into the touch. As his lips moved against yours, you felt the fear begin to fade, replaced by the overwhelming gratitude that he was still here with you.

“I’ll take care of you,” you promised, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Pedro smiled, his gaze tender. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, brushing a tear from your cheek. “You deserve the world.”

And in that moment, surrounded by beeping monitors and the sterile walls of the hospital, it felt like nothing else mattered but the two of you.

FORT RICASOLI, MALTA — DAY

The sun was high over Fort Ricasoli, the Mediterranean breeze carrying a salty tang as waves crashed against the nearby shore. The reconstructed Roman Colosseum loomed grandly in the fort, its grandeur a perfect backdrop for the epic Gladiator II production. You stepped out of the transport van, sunglasses shielding your eyes from the bright Maltese sun, a bag slung over your shoulder filled with Pedro’s essentials—medication, snacks, and a cold water bottle you knew he’d try to avoid drinking unless reminded.

As you walked toward the set, Pedro spotted you first, his face lighting up in a way that made your heart ache with affection. He was seated in the shade near the makeup tent, his left arm encased in a royal blue cast that made him look both ridiculous and endearing.

“Hi,” you called, setting your bag down beside him. “I’m here to be your nurse.”

Pedro’s grin widened, his dark eyes softening. “You’re more than my nurse. You’re my lifesaver. And I love you so much.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “How’s the arm?”

“It’s humiliating,” he muttered, holding up the cast as if it were a mark of disgrace. “Everyone keeps staring at it. Or laughing. Or both.”

“There’s nothing humiliating about needing help once in a while, my love,” you said gently, brushing a curl from his forehead. “Besides, it’s a great conversation starter.”

“Oh, yeah. Real smooth. ‘Hi, I’m Pedro Pascal, and I fell down a flight of stairs like a medieval jester.’”

You smothered a laugh just as Joseph Quinn sauntered by, pausing dramatically to give Pedro an exaggerated salute. “How’s the mighty warrior today? Still battling gravity, I see.”

“Go away,” Pedro groaned, waving his good arm dismissively.

“You’re a walking PSA now,” Fred Hechinger added as he passed. “Don’t text and walk down stairs, kids!”

Denzel Washington approached next, shaking his head with mock solemnity. “And here I thought I was the one who’d pull a stunt like that.”

“Traitors,” Pedro muttered, pulling you closer as if you could shield him from the teasing.

Coco, his ever-sassy hair stylist, smirked as she fixed his curls. “Just make sure she doesn’t trip over your ego next.”

“Coco!” Pedro whined, but his cheeks flushed, his pout making him look boyish and undeniably adorable.

Ridley Scott ambled over, his tone a mix of concern and exasperation. “Take it easy, Pedro. You’re not 25 anymore.”

“Gee, thanks, Ridley,” Pedro huffed, pulling you against him as if seeking comfort.

The day pressed on, the heat making Pedro’s clinginess somehow both unbearable and heart-meltingly sweet. Despite the steady teasing from the cast and crew, he stuck close to you like a second shadow whenever he wasn’t on set, his blue cast drawing as much attention as his ever-present pout.

During a break, he tugged at your hand, a soft whine slipping from his lips. “Go with me?”

You glanced up from the book you were pretending to read. “Go where?”

“Craft services,” he said, gesturing toward the shaded area where snacks and cold drinks awaited. “I’m starving, and I need moral support.”

“You literally just had a protein bar,” you teased, but stood anyway, slipping your hand into his.

“As long as you hold my hand,” you added with a smirk, letting him lead the way.

His good hand entwined with yours, his thumb brushing lazy circles over your skin as you walked. “You know I’m not letting go, right?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Reaching the craft services tent, Pedro made a beeline for the iced lemonade, his cast making the process comically awkward. You reached over to help him hold the cup steady as he poured, ignoring the amused glances from the crew around you.

“I got it,” he insisted, though his pouty tone betrayed his frustration.

“Sure you do, Mr. Dexterity,” you teased. “Here, let me.”

As you steadied the cup, Paul Mescal appeared beside you, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. “What’s it like being Pedro’s personal assistant and cuddle therapist?”

Pedro narrowed his eyes, his body shifting slightly as if to shield you from Paul’s teasing. “She’s an angel,” he declared, his tone defensive. “Unlike all of you degenerates.”

Paul laughed, grabbing a handful of chips. “Touché.”

Connie Nielsen joined the growing group, her warm smile softening the teasing atmosphere. “An angel with the patience of a saint,” she agreed. “He’s lucky to have you.”

You squeezed Pedro’s hand, glancing up at him with a playful glint in your eye. “Oh, I know.”

Pedro leaned down, his voice low and sweet in your ear. “Remind me to buy you something shiny and expensive later.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you whispered back, brushing a kiss to his cheek just as Coco walked by, her ever-present smirk firmly in place.

“Are we making out by the lemonade now?” she quipped, adjusting Pedro’s wig as she passed. “Just don’t knock over the drink dispenser, Casanova.”

Pedro groaned, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching, betraying his amusement.

When Pedro was shooting, you stayed nearby, perched under an umbrella with a bottle of water and a timer set for his next dose of medication. He’d been restless all morning, constantly checking in between takes to make sure you were still there.

The moment the director called cut, Pedro scanned the area until his eyes landed on you. A small smile tugged at his lips as he made a beeline toward you, his costume slightly dusty from the action sequence.

“Hydrate,” you ordered the moment he reached you, holding out the water bottle.

He wrinkled his nose but took it, his good hand struggling to unscrew the cap. You wordlessly reached over to help, earning a sheepish look from him.

“You know,” he said after a long sip, “you’re bossier than Ridley.”

“You love it,” you countered, wiping the sweat from his brow with a small towel you’d tucked into your bag.

Pedro’s lips curved into a soft smile, his gaze lingering on you. “I do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “A little too much.”

Your heart squeezed at the tenderness in his tone, and you reached up to brush a stray curl from his forehead. “Good. Now go back to work. Ridley’s glaring at us.”

He glanced over his shoulder, spotting the director gesturing for him to return. “Fine,” he grumbled, but not before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

As he walked back toward the set, Ridley shook his head, a faint smile on his face. “That woman of yours has you wrapped around her little finger.”

Pedro shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t I know it.”

THE XARA PALACE RELAIS & CHÂTEAUX, MALTA — EVENING

The day had taken its toll on both of you, but by the time you returned to the cozy luxury of the hotel suite, Pedro’s exhaustion only seemed to amplify his need for affection. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, he flopped dramatically onto the small couch, casting a forlorn look your way.

“Come here,” he said, his good arm extended toward you like a lifeline.

You chuckled, slipping off your sandals. “I thought you were tired.”

“I am,” he replied, his lips twitching into a pout. “But I’ll sleep better if you’re right here.”

Shaking your head fondly, you joined him on the couch, only to be pulled down against his side the moment you were close enough.

“It’s too hot for this,” you teased, trying—and failing—to push against his firm hold.

“Don’t care,” Pedro murmured, nuzzling into the curve of your neck as if you were the only source of comfort in the world. “You make everything better.”

You sighed softly, your resolve melting as your fingers found their way into his curls. They were still slightly damp from his post-shoot shower, and you gently combed through them, marveling at how they always seemed to spring back into place.

“I think that’s the heatstroke talking,” you quipped, though your voice was warm with affection.

“No,” he said, his voice muffled against your skin. “That’s the love of my life talking.”

Your hand stilled for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you like a gentle wave. You pulled back slightly to look at him, but Pedro didn’t let you get far. His warm brown eyes met yours, brimming with sincerity that made your breath catch.

“You’re insufferable,” you said, though the tremor in your voice betrayed how deeply his words had affected you.

“And you’re perfect,” he countered, his tone so soft and certain it made your heart ache in the best way.

Your cheeks warmed, and you leaned down to press a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re lucky I love you,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his skin.

Pedro grinned, his good arm tightening around you as he pulled you even closer. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

For a while, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the air conditioning blending with the distant sounds of the Maltese evening outside. Pedro’s breathing began to slow, his head resting heavily against your shoulder as he drifted off. His cast was awkwardly propped up on his chest, and you carefully adjusted a pillow beneath it, not wanting him to wake up sore.

As you gazed down at him, his face relaxed and peaceful in sleep, your heart swelled with a familiar ache—one born of overwhelming love. He might’ve been clingy and dramatic, prone to complaints about his cast and the heat, but he was also tender and selfless, with a way of making you feel like the most cherished person in the world.

You traced the curve of his jaw with the tips of your fingers, marveling at how even in his sleep, his hold on you never loosened. He was steady and constant in a way that made you feel safe, loved, and utterly at home.

He might’ve fallen down the stairs, but it felt like you were the one falling—deeper in love with him every single day.

Later that night, as the two of you lay tangled together in the king-sized bed, Pedro stirred, his voice groggy but laced with warmth.

“Are you still awake?”

“Barely,” you murmured, your head resting against his uninjured shoulder. “Why?”

He shifted slightly, his fingers grazing over your arm in lazy circles. “Just wanted to say… thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me. For putting up with me being clingy. For loving me even when I’m ridiculous,” he said, his voice soft but earnest.

You smiled in the darkness, pressing a kiss to his chest. “It’s not putting up with you, Pedro. It’s just loving you. And it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

His breath hitched, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his words carrying the weight of unspoken emotion.

“You deserve everything,” you replied, your voice firm despite the tears prickling at your eyes.

Pedro’s arms tightened around you, and in that moment, the world outside the four walls of your suite seemed to fade away. There was only the two of you, tangled together in love and gratitude, the promise of another day together stretching out before you like a gift.

And as you drifted off to sleep, cradled in his embrace, you couldn’t imagine a place you’d rather be.

COASTS OF MALTA — MORNING

The morning sun bathed the harbor in a soft, golden glow as you and Pedro stepped onto the pristine deck of the yacht, greeted by the lively chatter of his castmates and the crew. The day promised adventure—an exploration of Malta’s dazzling coastlines, including the famed Blue Lagoon, Crystal Lagoon, and the secretive caves on Comino. The air smelled of salt and freedom, and the water, impossibly blue and inviting, stretched out like a gem-laden carpet before you.

Pedro lingered close to you, his blue cast slung in a casual sling, though it didn’t stop him from giving your hand a light squeeze. He leaned down, his voice low and teasing.

"Don’t get too excited," he murmured with a grin, his dark eyes gleaming. "You’ll make me look bad."

You bumped your shoulder into his, rolling your eyes. "I can’t help it if I’m more fun than you."

"More fun? Or more distracting?" His gaze flicked briefly to the bikini peeking out from your cover-up, his expression bordering on predatory before he quickly masked it with a playful smirk.

“Behave, Pascal,” you teased, your cheeks warming under his intense stare.

As the boat cruised toward its first stop, the Blue Lagoon, the mood was light and cheerful. Connie and Fred lounged near the bow, animatedly swapping stories with the crew, their laughter carrying over the soft sound of the waves. Coco flitted around like a hummingbird with her camera, capturing candid shots of the lively group. Near the railing, Paul was attempting to teach Denzel a ridiculous dance move, the two of them tripping over their own feet and causing more chaos than rhythm.

You stood near Pedro, feeling the sun’s warmth on your skin, the gentle breeze teasing at your cover-up. A playful grin spread across your face as you untied the knot at your waist, sliding the fabric off and tossing it onto a nearby lounge chair. The vibrant bikini beneath was perfectly chosen—bright and bold against your skin, hugging your curves in a way that made you feel confident and beautiful.

Pedro, seated comfortably in the shade with his injured arm resting on a cushion, froze mid-sip of his drink. His gaze locked onto you, his eyes darkening as they traced every inch of your form. Appreciation was clear in his expression, but it was the simmering heat in his stare that sent a thrill down your spine.

You stretched your arms over your head, feigning oblivion to his attention as you joined Coco and Paul in their antics. The movement made your waist curve just enough to draw a quiet groan from Pedro’s lips, which didn’t go unnoticed by Coco. She smirked, leaning down to whisper as she passed him.

“Subtle,” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement.

Pedro didn’t even attempt to hide his grin. His eyes stayed glued to you as he shrugged, unapologetic. “Can you blame me?”

Coco snorted. “Not one bit. But maybe cool it unless you want everyone else to notice how thirsty you are.”

“Let them,” Pedro muttered, mostly to himself. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he watched you laugh with Paul, the way your body moved under the bright sun making it nearly impossible for him to look away.

When you caught his eye and shot him a playful wink, his good hand flexed against the armrest of his chair, the urge to pull you back to him almost too strong to resist.

Later, as you leaned over the edge of the boat, peering down at the water with Paul pointing out fish, Pedro’s voice rumbled low behind you.

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

You turned to find him standing close, his cast resting awkwardly at his side. “I am. The water’s beautiful,” you said with a smile, but his eyes weren’t on the water.

“They’re not the only thing,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist.

Heat bloomed on your cheeks, but you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips. “Pedro Pascal,” you teased, stepping closer. “Are you flirting with me on a boat in front of all your castmates?”

“Flirting?” He scoffed, his voice rich with amusement. “I’m just admiring. Can’t a man admire his girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” you repeated, arching a brow.

He smirked, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost over your skin. “The girlfriend,” he corrected, his voice dropping into a tone that sent a shiver racing through you despite the heat.

You bit your lip, glancing around at the others, who were too distracted to notice the charged moment. “Behave yourself,” you whispered, though your heart raced at the way his good hand brushed lightly against your hip.

He grinned, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m trying, but you’re not making it easy, sweetheart.”

The way he said it, rough and low, had your stomach doing flips. The teasing sparkle in his eyes told you he knew exactly the effect he was having on you—and he wasn’t the least bit sorry about it.

When the boat anchored near the Blue Lagoon, you practically bounced with excitement. “I’m going in!”

Pedro chuckled as you grabbed your snorkeling gear, pausing to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Try not to miss me too much,” you teased before hopping off the boat with an elegant dive.

“Not possible,” he called after you, his voice tinged with laughter.

The water was cool and crystal clear, every ripple catching the sunlight like scattered diamonds. You swam alongside Coco and Paul, laughing as he tried to outswim everyone only to splash clumsily when Coco teased him about his lack of grace. Schools of fish darted around you, their silvery bodies glimmering in the lagoon’s shallows, and the thrill of the moment made you forget the world beyond the sparkling blue waters.

Pedro watched from the deck, his good hand cradling a drink as his cast rested on his lap. He smiled softly, his heart swelling at the sight of you. You were so effortlessly kind, so radiant, laughing and splashing with his friends as if you’d known them your whole life.

“She’s really something,” Ridley remarked as he joined Pedro at the shaded table.

“Don’t I know it,” Pedro replied, his voice warm with pride.

“She’s good for you,” Ridley said simply, his tone laced with a rare softness.

Pedro glanced at the director, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. She’s my soulmate.”

Later, you clambered back onto the boat, droplets of water clinging to your skin, sparkling in the sunlight as they traced lazy paths down your arms and legs. Your grin was infectious, the kind of radiant joy that could light up an entire room—or, in this case, the deck of the boat. Pedro’s eyes were glued to you, as though the rest of the world had faded into the background.

“Having fun?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement but warm with affection.

“The best,” you replied breathlessly, grabbing a towel and wringing out your hair. “You should’ve come in with us. The water is incredible.”

He raised his cast dramatically, pulling a mock grimace. “In case you forgot, I’m a bit handicapped here.”

“Oh, poor baby,” you teased, crouching beside him. You leaned in to press a playful kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just long enough to make him sigh. “Next time, I’ll stay on the boat with you. We can sulk together.”

Pedro’s good hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer before you could stand. “Don’t you dare,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “Watching you have fun out there is the next best thing to being in the water myself.”

You arched a brow, motioning to your bikini with a teasing grin. “You mean you like the view.”

Pedro’s lips curved into a slow, devilish smirk. His mouth brushed your ear as he whispered, “I love the view.”

The heat of his words sent a shiver down your spine, making your cheeks flush. You swatted at his chest playfully before standing and tossing the towel over your shoulder. “Careful, Pascal. You’re not supposed to overheat with that cast on.”

The boat anchored near the caves on Comino, the turquoise water shimmering like liquid glass. Pedro waved you off with a mock sternness, insisting you go explore while he stayed behind.

“I’ll hold down the fort,” he said, settling back into his chair with a small smirk. “Don’t get lost in there.”

You rolled your eyes, blowing him a kiss before diving into the water with Paul and Fred. The group swam toward the darkened entrance of the caves, their laughter echoing off the limestone walls. Inside, the sunlight filtered through cracks, casting dancing patterns on the rocky surfaces.

Pedro, stuck on the boat, didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. His gaze followed you like a shadow, lingering on the curve of your body as you moved effortlessly through the water. Every so often, you glanced back at the boat, catching him watching you. He didn’t even pretend to look away, his expression soft, adoring, and entirely unguarded.

When you returned, dripping wet and exhilarated, you plopped down beside him with a dramatic sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“You’ve been staring at me all day,” you teased, your tone light but your heart pounding at the intensity of his attention.

Pedro turned his head slightly, brushing his lips against your temple. “Can you blame me?” he murmured. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You tilted your head to meet his gaze, your hand finding his on the armrest. “You’re laying it on thick today,” you joked, though your voice wavered just slightly.

“It’s the truth,” he countered simply, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.

Your moment was interrupted by Paul’s exaggerated wolf whistle from across the deck. “Get a room, you two!”

Fred chimed in with a loud groan. “Some of us are single and fragile!”

You laughed, your head falling back briefly before you turned to Pedro, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “They’re just jealous.”

“Damn right, they are,” Pedro said, leaning in close. “You’re all mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone was playful but sent your pulse racing nonetheless.

Later, as the boat rocked gently in the open waters, you sat on Pedro’s lap, his good arm wrapped securely around your waist. The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold.

“Pedro,” you said softly, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his thigh. “Can we stay like this forever?”

His eyes softened as he looked down at you, his smile tender. “I’d stay here with you forever if I could,” he replied, his voice filled with quiet certainty.

The weight of his words settled over you, grounding you in the moment. You bit your lip, leaning in closer until your noses brushed. “Please just kiss me already.”

Pedro didn’t need to be asked twice. His lips captured yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, full of unspoken promises and a depth of feeling that took your breath away. His hand splayed across your back, pulling you impossibly closer as the world around you seemed to disappear.

When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a soft laugh. “I think you might be my soulmate,” he said, his voice a mixture of awe and certainty.

Your eyes searched his, and for a moment, the noise of the others and the gentle lapping of the waves faded entirely. “I think you might be mine too,” you whispered, sealing the moment with another kiss.

Laughter and chatter echoed around you, the boat a hub of joy and togetherness, but for you and Pedro, time seemed to stand still. In his arms, surrounded by the beauty of Malta and the warmth of his love, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.

1K notes · View notes

hayatoseyepatch · 3 months ago

Text

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓:Zayne could not contain the possessive need to keep you all to himself, to not let anyone see the most private parts of your being. So if he had to convince you to let him perform your routine gynecological exam, then so be it. 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗:Zayne (Love & Deepspace) 𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙:1.2k 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘:Fem!ReaderxZayne. ⚠️NSFW Dark Content⚠️.

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:Pussy inspection, yandere themes, fingering, depraved thoughts, possessive behavior, praise, degradation, dubcon, medical malpractice, sexual coercion, power dynamics (kinda?), doctor/patient play.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: It's time to get this shit started!! (•̀ᴗ•́)و Welcome to the first official post of my kinktober. We're starting off strong of course with a character I've never written before, oops. So I do apologize if Zayne is a wee bit ooc. That being said, I hope you enjoy and I'll see you in the next one! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ᵕ`∩꒱ྀིა See full kinktober master list here.

Zayne typically didn’t perform this kind of examination, he was a surgeon not a gynecologist. However, the mere idea of anyone, even another medical professional, having access to your most intimate places was enough to make his skin crawl. This profound possessive energy he felt when it came to you was not something he was familiar with but he couldn’t contain himself. So here you sat, legs in stirrups, knees locked together as much as possible, shy for Zayne to see your most intimate areas. He had to swallow a chuckle, the stirrups making it impossible for you to try and hide yourself from him. He eyed you as he slid the latex onto his digits, sitting on the chair in front of you and rolling until he was positioned between your legs. He hummed lightly, a cold hand sliding up the warmth of your thighs, parting what you could close of your legs to expose yourself to him.

“Relax, it’s just a routine exam, it’ll be over before you know it.” His voice was calming the low baritone soothing but holding a sternness that had you complying under his touch. Zayne was grateful he was sat at a lower level, your eyes also being transfixed on the ceiling, because if you spared a glance you might have caught the way he needed to adjust himself in his slacks. The sight of your glistening pussy was enough to have his cock stirring. He cleared his throat, focusing at the task at hand. “I’ll be inserting my fingers, they may be a bit cold due to the lubricant.” He tried to keep his tone professional and tried to keep the desperation from his tone.

He felt like an animal being held back on a tight leash. The urge to thrust his fingers in your tight heat, to lean forward just a bit and finally get a taste of you. The number of times he craved to be in a similar position, the countless nights he had fisted his cock as the thought of feeling you around him was mortifying. As his first digit slipped past your entrance he swallowed a groan. Your walls welcomed him fully, practically sucking in his digit with your tightness. He wasn’t sure if it was his own desire speaking or if you were wet enough without the lubricant for his fingers to ease inside of you. He catches it, the sharp inhale. he deludes himself into thinking that it's in response to the stretch that his fingers provide and not the temperature of his digits. He slides in a second digit, your walls hugging his fingers tightly. “I need you to relax, you think you could do that for me?” His voice is gentle, your tightness indicative of being tense.

“But I am relaxed, Dr. Zayne.” The words fall from your lips without hesitation, being sincere in their delivery. Zayne blinked to himself, you couldn’t possibly be his tight. He chanced his words hopeful tone forced to be swallowed. “So are you always this tight? Would you say you are active in your sex life?” He watches between your knees as your face flushes, sparing a glance between you legs had been a mistake. Seeing him looking up at you between your thighs, while his fingers were knuckle deep inside you, caused an involuntary clench of your cunt. Sucking his fingers in deeper as if begging for more. “Well, I..” Your voice trails off, embarrassed to say your last partner had been quite some time ago, since you had rekindled with Zayne, if you were honest.

Zayne it seems senses your words you were grateful you didn’t have to continue. However, that gratefulness is replaced with mortification at his following words. “With how, well, responsive you’re being I’d say it was quite some time since you have taken a partner. That kind of sexual deprivation could cause a build-up of frustration and tension, its not good for your evol.” Zayne offered a pensive sigh, trying to make it as believable as possible that this was in your best interest for your health. “The best course of action would be a stimulated orgasm, to release some of that tension.”

The way Zayne spoke, so certain and absolute, had you believing that this was the only course of action to assist with your issue. And you’d be lying if you hadn’t imagined this exact scenario while at home with your own fingers buried in your depths. “Whatever you think is best, you are the doctor afterall.” Your voice quivered albeit nervous as his fingers began to move, hoping this meant more than just a routine exam to him. Though you must admit, you’ve never heard of this type of treatment ever taking place. Even Zayne himself was doubtful you would fall for his ruse, but he also was hopeful you’re agreeance was because it was him. He knew he was right to think no one else should this exam, not when you were so easily goaded into following his instructions. “Yes, just like that, you're doing so well for me.”

His fingers set a steady pace from the beginning, pumping in and out of your walls easily and without resistance. He took the thumb on his free hand, his tongue swiping across the latex covered digit to act as lubricant, not that it was truly needed, before using it to rub tight circles on your clit. He relished in the sounds that slipped from your lips, the cry of “Dr. Zayne” reaching his ears and making his cock throb against the confines of his scrubs. Unable to qualm his desire any longer he groaned. “My apologies, snowflake, this is going to be very unprofessional of me.” His voice came out husky, dripping with need as he leaned forward, replacing his thumb with his tongue.

He tries and fails to swallow the groan as he finally takes you against his tastebuds after yearning for longer than he is proud to admit. His wet muscle moves in time with his fingertips as they work in tandem to bring you to release. He takes his now free hand, applying pressure to the patch of skin below your belly button. The added weight of his hand makes it feel as if his fingers are pressing impossibly deep, your head being thrown back, making the parchment covering the seat crinkle, alerting yourself just as to where you both were. Even if you wanted to protest or express concern that anyone could walk in, your voice dies in your throat cut off by a moan as the pads of his fingers find that oh so delicate spongey patch within your depths.

Your receptiveness to his touch has him abusing that spot, picking up the speed at with he lapped at your clit until your hips bucked against his face riding out the waves of your orgasm as much as the stirrups would allow. He allows you a moment of reprieve, watching as you res against the seat, chest rising and falling to catch your breath after the intense orgasm. “Now, we’ll continue with the examination whenever you’re ready.” He speaks, wiping your juices from his chin, as if he hadn’t just eaten your cunt. “Though I will recommend you come visit me again to release some of that built up tension, cant have one of our best hunters out of commission now could we?” if you hadn’t know any better you would have sworn there was a curl to his lips and a wink thrown in your direction. But, hey, who were you to disobey the doctor's orders?

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖇𝖞 @/𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 & @/𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖐𝖆-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘. 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖐𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑 𝖜𝖎𝖋𝖊 @eevees-hobbies 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖆 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖔𝖓𝖊, 𝕴 𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖇𝖇! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @littleplantfreak @maruflix @umemiaa @143-ilyuu @uzxotic @serendipitous-fernweh @princesstiti14 (𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙/𝖉𝖒/𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

1K notes · View notes

whimsiwitchy · 3 months ago

Text

we broke up (one shot)

hugh jackman x f!reader

summary: you get dragged to a work event by your boyfriend of three years when Hugh comes to flirt with you. after you reluctantly tell him you’re taken, he backs off for the most part. a few months later, Hugh tells the story during an interview but little does he know you’re single now.

warnings: implied age gap (not mentioned), flirting while in a relationship (kinda)

authors note: here's a little oneshot I wrote tonight. enjoy <33

You’d been with your boyfriend, Rowan, for a few years now. He earned a degree in marketing and immediately got a job for a studio. While he enjoys his job and it brings in good money, the events he dragged you to were unbelievably boring. The company he worked for always had big parties after a success on a project. At first they were interesting, often running into celebrities here and there given that it was the success of their movie, but lately you found yourself sitting at the bar more often than not. It was routine at this point. Rowan would show you off for the first hour, then he would toss you aside to fend for yourself. You weren’t the biggest social butterfly, hence why you liked to sit alone, drinking.

Tonight wasn’t any different. You were at another party for the successful marketing for Deadpool and Wolverine. You’d heard a few whispers that the stars of the movie themselves were somewhere wandering around but you hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing them. Rowan dumped you at the bar a little over thirty minutes ago and you’ve been sipping on some fruity little drink ever since, completely in your own world. You made small talk with the bartender every once and a while but you were mainly people watching.

“Mind if I join?” A deep Australian accent asks. You look up and see a gorgeous older man. He was wearing a dark blue suit with a pair of black expensive looking glasses. He was deliciously tall and had a thich salt and pepper beard. “Uh no, go ahead.” He sits in the bar stool next to you. He orders a drink from the bartender before returning his attention back to you. “Pardon me if this is too forward but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” The comment takes you aback. “Oh um, thank you. That’s really sweet of you to say.” He looks down to your glass that’s nothing but melted ice at this point. “Can I buy you another drink?” He asks. “You probably shouldn’t. I’m taken…sadly.” You whisper the last part, unsure if he heard it or not. “Oh! I apologize for coming on to you. You’ve been sitting here by yourself for so long, I thought you might have come alone.” You huff out a laugh. “My boyfriend works for the company. He’s out there socializing or whatever.” You shrug and signal to the bartender, asking for another drink. “That’s a shame. If you were mine, you’d be on my arm all night.” He smirks. “Is that right?” You smile at him. Before he can answer, you feel your phone vibrate with a text from Rowan that reads ‘where are you babe? Time to leave.’

“Well, the boyfriends calling, I gotta go.” You carefully climb out of the chair and grab your jacket and purse off of the back. As you start to walk away, the man speaks again. “Wait! What’s your name?” You turn back to face him. “Y/n.” He smiles and repeats it. “I’m Hugh.” His answer surprises you. “Oh! Congrats on the movie. I didn’t even recognize you at first with the beard and all.” He laughs. “Bye Hugh.” You wave before walking off.

—

It’s been a few months since that night in July, it being September now. You and Rowan had broken up mid-August, both of you agreeing that the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. It hurt for a little bit but you knew it was for the best. Living with him had been awkward as you searched for a new place, deciding that he can keep the current apartment. You wanted a fresh start, which is where you are now. Tonight was your first night in your new apartment. You didn’t have any furniture yet but you were happy. You bought an air mattress to make do until you could afford an actual bed.

It was around midnight and you were doing your nightly youtube watch. You were scrolling through your recommended videos when you saw Hugh’s face pop up. It was an interview posted a few minutes ago from him on some late night show you’d never heard of. You clicked on it, wanting to hear what the man was up to these days. The interview was a standard one, mostly questions on his upcoming movie about some sheep. You weren’t really paying attention, close to dozing off when a question peaked your interest.

“So Hugh, it’s almost been a year since the announcement of your divorce and the fans wanna know…How’s your dating life doing? Are you seeing anyone?” The woman asks, wiggling her eyebrows. Hugh lets out a big laugh. “I’m actually not seeing anyone. It’s funny you ask because the last time I even attempted to flirt with a woman she turned me down.” The interviewer's eyebrows shoot up in shock. She gasps before asking, “How could anyone turn you down? We need to know the full story here.”

“Ryan and I were at this party for the marketing team that worked on Deadpool and Wolverine and I saw this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar all alone.” The interviewer is nodding her head, engaging with every word Hugh says. “I eyed her for a while to see if anyone was with her but she sat there alone for a good thirty minutes before Ryan hyped me up to go over there. When I finally did, I ordered a drink and tried to play it cool but I felt the urge to tell this girl how stunning she was, so I did.” You giggle to yourself and you hear him tell the story from his point of view. “She thanked me and I offered to buy her another drink. I kid you not, in the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard she says ‘you probably shouldn’t, i’m taken.’” His hands go up to his chest, gripping right above his heart. “My heart broke mate. I flirted a little more in true Hugh fashion but she had to go. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since.”

“What a lucky woman, I’m sure she regrets it.”

“Hey, I tried my best.” He shrugs before looking at the camera. “Y/n, if you ever break up with him. I’m all yours baby.”

Your jaw drops, the sound of cheers blasting from your phone.

‘we broke up. I’m all yours. @/RealHughJackman’

You hit send on the tweet and hoped it would be enough to bring him back to you.

thank you for reading <3

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x younger!reader #hugh jackman oneshot #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman imagines

1K notes · View notes

banj0possum · 1 year ago

Text

Bloody Red Roses

Yandere!Evil King x GN!Reader

CW: kidnapping, weirdo behavior, pretty mellow for now

👑 It was known throughout the land that King Alistair of the Obsidian Kingdom was a terrifying and cruel ruler. His heart held no mercy for those who opposed him.

👑 His dark magic was one to be feared, many know better than to ever go against him and his undead soldiers.

👑 Recently, he’s set his sights on your kingdom. He was planning on overthrowing a few lands and expanding his territory, and with your kingdom’s promising resources and location, he saw it as the perfect prize.

👑 But he isn’t a war mongering psychopath who declares war right then and there, no no he’s much more sophisticated than that, he’s going to kidnap the princess instead!

👑 He needed a bride anyway, so for him it’s a win/win!

👑 “Sir! We got her! We got the princess!” The door opening and the rattling of bones got Alistair’s attention. He sent a few of his skeleton soldiers to capture the princess whilst on a carriage ride through the borders of his territory.

👑 There were many guards protecting the area, but their weapons were no match for enemies who couldn’t die, and with a little bit of sleeping potion, carrying the princess away will be easy as pie.

👑 “Excellent~ and you brought her to my chambers like I told you correct?”

👑 They nod and scamper alongside the king to meet the princess

👑 “Oh princess~ are you awake ye- !!” His eyes widen and he cuts himself off. The person unconscious and tied up in his bed was indeed a royal, but the princess they were not.

👑 “What. Is. This?” He growls, the soldier’s bones rattle in fear

👑 “W-well you sai-“ “Does this look like a princess to you?! How am I going to take over their stupid kingdom if don’t have a bride!?” He scowls angrily.

👑 He hears you tossing and turning in your sleep, you let out a soft little squeak as you reposition yourself to be hugging one of his pillows.

👑 “…”

👑 “Uhm…your highness..?”

👑 “Leave. I’m done with your stupidity..I’ll deal with them myself..”

👑 The soldiers waste no time running off to who knows where as Alistair looks at you with cold eyes.

👑 “Hm…”

👑 He takes a seat by the bed, watching you as he figures out what to do with you.

👑 He’s trying to figure out a strategy, but he keeps getting distracted by your form. You looked so small and delicate, maybe he could…no that’s stupid he could never..could he?

👑 His thoughts plague him a awhile longer until he notices you waking up.

👑 Your muscles are weak, your head feels like it’s spinning, and it takes a bit for you to get back to your senses and realize what happened.

👑 You jolt awake, remember of the attack and almost scream at the sight of Alistair, but he was quick to covers your mouth and try to ease your panic. It took a while, but he managed to get you to stop fussing so he could take off your binds.

👑 “Apologies for this little..incident, I was supposed to take your sister..but now that you know my plan for your little kingdom, I have no choice but to keep you here. Perhaps I don’t need a princess to marry after all, I could just use you as ransom..” he chuckles.

👑 He sees the tea in your cup rippling in your shakes hold and scoffs, bringing his hand to hold your wrist to still your trembling “Oh don’t be so scared now, I don’t bite..”

👑 It was just supposed to be a means to make you stop shaking, but your skin…your big pitiful eyes staring up at him..he didn’t want to let go.

👑 So he kept you, for ransom of course, not for anything else..

👑 With you at his disposal, he started preparing negotiations with your kingdom to see what they’ll do to get you back.

👑 But in the mean time, he had to deal with you somehow..

👑 He settled on just letting you wander around the castle (with supervision of course)

👑 But then he starts to wonder what you do everyday, what did you even like to do? If you were staying with him, he might as well talk with you for the time being.

👑 It started off sort of awkward, he spotted you by the garden feeding some birds with two soldiers watching you. He approached and waved at the soldiers to leave them alone together. You thought you were in trouble but to your surprise, he just asked you how you were doing..

👑 “I uhm..heard you like going out here everyday..I figured I’d join you…Don’t take it the wrong way, I just had some..free time..that’s all..”

👑 The whole interaction was unusual. It wasn’t like him to be so casual and calm with someone, especially a royal of another kingdom.

👑 He enjoys the reactions you give him whenever he talks about his role as the dark king of the Obsidian Kingdom. Your nervous but polite smile masks your mortification of him, but it’s adorable to him nonetheless

👑 “What? A scared of the big bad king? How cute.”

👑 Your little talks slowly became frequent, for the king, it even became something he couldn’t help but do. What can he say? He was so used to your presence it seemed wrong to not talk to you at least once..plus he had to check to see if you weren’t planning an escape so..

👑 “Where have you been my little rose? I haven’t seen you all day.”

👑 His interest in your interactions turned to fondness the more he picked up on your cute little quirks. He takes note of the things you find funny or interesting, he brings them up in order to see that adorable little smile of yours, and that giggle, oh god that giggle…

👑 He denies it so much at first, but slowly starts to accept the fact that he wants- no, needs you with him

👑 Soon he started to want your presence even more, offering to eat meals alongside you instead of eating whenever he’s schedule allowed it, he started eating scheduled meals for you <3 we love self care guys

👑 “Of course I’m eating with you tonight. After all we never got to finish our conversation.”

👑 He loves watching you, even when simply eating or any mundane thing, you will more often than not catch him staring at you. You’re just so cute and soft! Definitely not like the snobby and overly stiff men and women he’s seen.

👑 He couldn’t have you trying to escape so what better plan than to keep you by his side 24/7? Then you’ll never be out of his sight!

👑 “What’s so wrong with letting you tag along my dear? I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself with me.”

👑 And what if you try and sneak out from your chambers? Clearly you need to be moved to his chambers, that way he can make sure you’re behaving.

👑 Oh and of course in case you get lost, he made you a cute collar with the royal insignia on it! Isn’t it pretty? He used your favorite colors and everything!

👑 Of course he needs to fulfill his kingly duties. But how can he leave you alone for that long? No worries, you can sit right on his lap! That way you won’t have to stand for a long time and hurt your feet.

👑 And those clothes? So simple and out of style, perhaps you should wear something more fitting to his kingdom’s styles? Like a cute outfit with lace and ruffles! You look so delicate and graceful in it! He can’t help but buy you lots more outfits like that! Tis only fair for a person of your status.

👑 “How about this one? It compliments your form…what do you mean it looks too cutesy? I think it looks perfect for you.”

👑 he’s the type to not do much physical affection, but dear god does he crave both giving and receiving it. Give him a kiss or a caress of his cheek and he struggles to keep his composure and not melt to your touch

👑 Simply put, he might not seem like it (at least he thinks he does) but he can’t live without you. He couldn’t fathom the fact he was planning on trading you for a kingdom, you’re way more valuable than some puny kingdom!

👑 He even considers his original plan, you wouldn’t mind right? Besides, he bets you look absolutely exquisite in a little wedding dress~! Even if you don’t want a dress, an elegant suit would perfect on you~!

👑 “Where do you think you’re going my rose?”

It’s finally here guys ✨✨✨ I know it’s been a while but I’ve been busy with school and genshin. Anyway we got em in the end! Thank you for being so patient guys !! qwq

#yandere #yandere x gn reader #male yandere #yandere oc #oc yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #tw yandere #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #king x reader #yandere king #evil king #opossumdoodles

6K notes · View notes

nebulaafterdark · 6 months ago

Text

At The Pleasure Of The Crown

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon and his wife regularly visit the silk streets. One night they happen upon Aemond behind one of the curtains, the rest is history.

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut, infidelity, manipulation, etc.

It begins in the pleasure house, when Aegon tears back one of the curtains to find his brother. Nude and curled around one of the women.

“Haha,” Aegon points, “Aemond the fierce.”

Even the guardsmen there on Aegon’s behalf, shift uncomfortably as he begins taunting his brother. Though none of them will say as much.

“Stop it, you awful man.” Y/N bats at her husband.

He catches her wrists, pinning them to her sides. “Awful man?” Aegon muses, “that’s not very nice, my only love.”

“You are mean.”

Aegon frowns, “not to you.”

“You should not be mean to your brother either.”

“Are you truly angry with me?” He asks, releasing her wrists to twirl a bit of dark hair around his finger.

“Yes,” Y/N pouts.

“Please, say it isn’t so, my darling girl.” Aegon wraps his arms tightly around her, peppering her face with kisses. “I adore you.”

She says nothing, sighing against him. Stroking the stubble on his chin.

He chases her finger with his lips, “forgive me.”

“Be kind.” Y/N insists.

“Of course,” he nods, “I will be on my best behavior. I swear it.”

Y/N kisses his lips once in parting, shooing him away.

“My wife,” Aegon says to the crowd of men, “she is better than I deserve.” He stands, holding the curtain back, “I will miss her dearly.” Aegon pulls himself away, “now, a round of drinks for all; at the pleasure of the crown!”

Y/N smiles, with a shake of her head. “Might you excuse us?” She asks of Aemond’s company.

“Of course, your grace.” The older woman nods, taking her leave.

“I apologize for Aegon. I do hope you were finished, at least.”

Aemond says nothing.

“I’ve given up the opportunity to bed a woman to be here with you.” Y/N tells him, “let no one say I do not treat you fairly.”

“You should go to her. My brother does so love when there are two of you.”

“At least I’m loved.”

“He loves you to the fullest extent he is capable.”Aemond understands well. “What suprises me most is that you allow these behaviors.”

“Aegon is who he is, we can choose to either love or loath him for it.” Some people are born with sadness sewn in.

“Why love him then, if it is your choice?”

“Why do you come back to this place for comfort?” Y/N purses her lips, “why does anyone?”

Aemond stares blankly, awaiting an answer.

“Because it’s what we know. My late grandsire, the king, insisted it was my duty to keep Aegon contented. I have performed my duty.”

“My father has been dead for years now, with your mother seated peacefully upon his throne.” He hums, “you don’t strike me as a woman content forever unchanging.”

Y/N makes herself comfortable on the silk sheets, lying fully clothed beside Aemond, in all his glory. “I am content.”

He continues staring, studying her, allowing gentle hands to brush hair away from his face.

“Do you like to be petted?”

“Do you enjoy drowning in cups? Or is that another of my brother’s interests being forced upon you?”

“Aegon’s never forced me to do a thing.” Y/N admits, “he lives only to please me.”

“I will say that must be true, considering he does not have a hoard of bastards in the fighting pit.”

“He is careful.” Y/N confirms, “he told me once that our children were kissed by the gods because our love created them. He is particularly rigid about moon tea, even with his favorite ladies.”

“For once, my brother and I see eye to eye.”

“And where, on this matter, do you differ?”

“If you were my wife, I would not allow you here. You would scarcely see the outside of our chambers.”

“You would lock me away?”

“I certainly would not leave you alone with him, in a room at the pleasure house.” Aemond drawls.

“Aegon believes our bodies are naught but vessels for pleasure and of course, producing heirs. He holds little interest in who warms my bed, so long as he is the only one to know my heart.” Y/N explains. “He is fiercely possessive over it.”

“That is what I would desire most from you.”

“We would never lie together?”

Aemond sighs, “we would. Every hour. Until you were molded in the shape of me.”

Y/N swallows, harshly.

“That is the way I would love you.”

————————————————————————

Y/N makes her way down to the library, on nights she cannot sleep. Happening across Prince Aemond, who she’s scarcely seen since that night in the pleasure house. He lazes about one of the chairs, with a large book in hand.

Y/N thinks at first, she best not disturb him, but as she passes, he stares up at her. “What are you reading?”

“The anthology of serpents.”

“Is it any good?”

“I am reading in the hopes of finding sleep. It works best if the subject doesn’t interest me.” Aemond drags a finger along the edge of the page, flipping to the next.

“Right.” Y/N sifts through titles on the shelves.

“Have you read Aegon’s journal entries?”

“My husband keeps a journal? This is news to me.” Aegon’s never had much fascination with literature.

“The Conqueror.” Aemond clarifies.

“Of course,” Y/N shakes her head, “Aegon the Conqueror.”

“It’s a good read, in-”

“Three parts,” Y/N nods, “I’ve read them all.”

“Do you come to this place often?”

“Nearly every night.” The princess confirms.

“Always alone? Or accompanied by your husband?”

“A-alone.” She stammers, “I am often alone.”

“That is unfortunate.” Aemond hums. “Mayhaps I might find you here again.”

He does, of course. The next night and the night after that.

“Is it more comfortable with the eye patch on, or off?” Y/N wonders, having spent a fair share of time staring at him both ways.

“It makes little difference. The covering is mostly for the comfort of others, namely my mother. She was always quite saddened by the sight of it.”

“The sapphire is beautiful.” Y/N clears her throat.

“I’m glad you approve of your brother’s work.”

Y/N taps a finger against her wedding band as she speaks, “Lucerys is a gentle soul. It is not in his nature to attack viciously. He must’ve been very frightened.”

Aemond stands abruptly, leaving without a word. What could she know of what transpired between them that night in Driftmark? She was off nursing Aegon as he drowned in his cups.

Y/N returns to her apartments, finding comfort beneath the covers, she is nearly asleep when the door opens.

“What are you doing in here?” Aegon squints at her.

“I went to your rooms first, my love.” She yawns, “you were not there.”

“I need you in my bed.” Aegon tells her, “I need you always.”

“And you shall have me always. Come lie with me.” Y/N pats the space beside her.

Aegon strips down to his small clothes and joins her beneath the covers. “I thought you’d left me.”

Y/N sighs, passing a hand through his hair as he rests his head against her chest. “Why would I leave you, Aegon?”

“Because I am not worth staying for.” The words are muffled in the fabric of her nightgown.

“I love you.” Y/N reminds him. “I will not leave.”

————————————————————————

Y/N and Aemond spend many a night reading, seated across from each other. Though he was not thrilled about their conversation concerning Lucerys, Aemond never misses an evening.

They discuss their findings, when there is anything of interest in the history pages.

“I happened across this passage here,” Y/N plops the book unceremoniously into Aemond’s lap.

“Mmm,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably, “there goes the family jewels.”

Y/N covers her mouth with a hand. “Forgive me.”

“Mayhaps we might try something different this night. If you’re up to it.”

Y/N takes his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead her out to the training ground. “I am not trained by the sword.”

“I could teach you.” Aemond makes for the wooden training blades. “They will not cut you, but it is not pleasant to be struck.” He warns.

Y/N reaches out, grabbing the hilt. Testing the weight of it in her hand.

“Widen your stance.” Aemond tells her.

Y/N shuffles her feet apart, “like this?”

“Close enough.”

Her dark brows furrow in concentration and when their swords meet, Aemond relishes in the little grunting noises she makes.

“Ao vīlībagon olvie sȳrī syt mēre qilōni knows daorun hen egros.” You fight quite well for one who knows nothing of the sword.

She smiles, “bodmagho nyke skorkydoso naejot tatagon ao hen.” Teach me how to finish you off.

Aemond chuckles, “do not tempt me, girl.”

Y/N lunges for him, an untrained hand against the master, leaving herself exposed to his attack.

He uses the tip of his sword to lift her chin, “I win.”

She swallows, batting it away. “I want to go again.”

And so they do, until she is spent. Collapsing on the ground, as though he’s truly run her through with the blade. Aemond finds this more amusing than he lets on.

“Up,” he demands, “you will make a mess of yourself, rolling around in the dirt.”

“I will surely bathe after our activities, you needn’t worry.”

“Do you need me to carry you back to your apartments then?”

“After a while.” Y/N grins, resting a hand beneath her head as a makeshift pillow to gaze up at the night sky.

“What are you doing?” Aemond hovers over her.

“See for yourself.” Y/N insists.

Aemond grumbles, taking a seat in the dirt before fully reclining. “The moon?”

“The stars,” Y/N tells him. “When I was a girl my mother would point to the stars and ask what we saw in them.”

“To what possible end?”

Y/N shrugs, “entertainment, I suppose. Or gods forbid, fun.”

“What do you see?” Aemond asks, turning his face toward her.

“Well, just there, I see a hound.” Y/N points to a cluster of lights.

“A hound?” Aemond cocks his head to the side, following the line of her finger.

“Can’t you see?”

“Not at all.” He smirks.

“What do you see then?”

“A crown.” Aemond tells her.

“Where?” Y/N shuffles closer to him, hoping to see.

“Beside the sword.”

“There is no sword.”

“And I say, there is no hound.”

Aegon stumbles out towards the pair, listening to them bicker. “What are you doing?”

“Looking upon the stars, my love. Come lie with us.” Y/N waves him over.

Aegon smiles, indulgently. “Alright.” He joins them on the ground, opposite his brother, Y/N in the middle. “Not very comfortable, is it?”

“The sky is beautiful, is it not?”

Aegon blinks at it once, before turning back to her. “You are my moon and stars.”

Y/N rolls atop of him, kissing the expanse of his face, ten times over.

Oh to be so loved.

Aemond withdraws, prepared to take his leave.

“Goodnight, Aemond.” Y/N calls after him.

With a shake of his head, he calls back, “goodnight.”

————————————————————————

Aemond will never admit the amount of times his brother’s wife dances cross his mind during the day. He does his best to distract himself.

The sound of laughter travels down the hall, from their children’s rooms. Aegon is not much, in his brother’s eye. But even Aemond cannot deny fatherhood suits him.

“And then, from the sky, a big scary dragon swoops down to claim its next victim!” Aegon flaps his arms, parading around like a fool, as his children scatter. Giggling and hollering all the while.

Their youngest son runs to Y/N for protection.

“Come, my dearest love. I will save you.” She smiles, taking the little boy into her lap.

Aemond stands in the crack of the door; watching the scene unfold.

Princess Y/N grins from ear to ear as her husband gallops over, enveloping her in his arms.

“Oh no, mother! You’ve been eaten by the dragon.” Her daughter laughs.

“And I am still hungry.” Aegon smiles, turning his attention back to the eldest children.

Aemond turns away, continuing down the hall. Mayhaps he does want children. Mayhaps he wants them with her, but such things are foolish to desire. So he refuses to.

————————————————————————

“How do you get your hair so straight?” Y/N wonders. “It used to have wave to it, like Aegon’s.”

“From the looks of Aegon’s hair he could do with better hygiene.”

“Be kind,” Y/N chides him. “He has beautiful hair.”

“If you want access to trade secrets, you must allow me to speak freely.” Aemond challenges.

“I love Aegon.”

Aemond nods. “Of course”

“And that is fine by you?”

He smirks, “you’ve only now thought to ask?”

“I had not thought so much of it before.” She admits, “but now it is all I can-”

“If it is my permission you seek to continue loving your husband, I have overstepped.”

Y/N bites her tongue.

“I doubt he is asking whores for their blessing to go on loving you.”

“I wish only to be fair to you.” Y/N searches his eye.

“From the moment you pulled back the curtain in the pleasure house, you have been unfair to me.” Aemond tells her, “made my heart ache for you, made me long for you, then left with my brother when you were through. It did not seem to bother you then.”

“I did not mean for this to happen.”

“I believe that is true. You are not wanton for the suffering of others, but sometimes these things happen.”

“I am finished, if you’re angry with me.”

“Has no one been angry at you before?”

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Then, I am honored to be the first.” He brushes a kiss to her cheek. “Before you go, I have something for you.”

Y/N swallows.

“Turn around.” Aemond murmurs, reaching into his breast pocket.

Y/N does as she’s told, catching only a glimpse of glimmering metal before it meets her skin. Clasping at the back of her neck.

Aemond walks her toward his mirror, brushing dark hair over her shoulders so she can see it properly.

“Why give this to me now, if you are angry?” Her brows furrow.

Aemond traces a finger along her collarbone. “You will find that people are multifaceted. We have imperfections and sharp edges, but we are a direct reflection of the light shone upon us.”

————————————————————————

The necklace is beautiful, enough that even Aegon takes notice. Raising the subject in their chambers unlacing the back of her dress. The material falls free, pooling at her feet. Leaving only her shift and small clothes, which soon meet the same end.

“That is a lovely necklace, darling girl.” He runs his finger along the glittering blue jewels, hanging above her breasts. It looks familiar to him, though he cannot say why. His wife is often dripping in jewels he’s gifted her. There is no way of remembering them all. “Was it buried at the back of your jewelry box?”

Y/N smiles, bringing his hand up to kiss his fingertips and then place them upon her breasts. “It was a gift.”

“From whom, my only love?” He forces a grin, kneading the fleshy mounds.

“Aemond.”

No. A blow directly to his gut. He nods, giving the peaks of her breasts a tug before letting them fall free, sensitive and aching. “Upon the bed, my heart.” He smiles.

Y/N returns the gesture, sitting at the edge of the mattress.

“Lie back for me.”

Y/N does as he asks, allowing her legs to fall open, out of habit.

“Good girl.” Aegon drops to his knees, pressing his face to the altar and begins to pray. Every cruel word spoken against him does not exist here. He is safe between her thighs, with gentle hands carding his hair.

He would spend hours there, if she let him. Ignoring the bite of overstimulation to soothe his need for her. His jaw aches, working her writhing body through one peak to the next.

“Fuck,” Y/N sobs. Fighting the urge to press against his head for reprieve.

Aegon takes her hands in his, knotting their fingers together. When he tires of all her squirming, he trails kisses up to her pretty face. Nuzzling her nose with his own as he thumbs away tears.

Y/N sighs, contently. Relaxing enough to calm her breathing.

Aegon lowers his face to her breasts then, rolling and plucking at her nipples until they stand at attention. Sucking them between his teeth, laving his tongue over them until they too are sensitive. He leans up, pecking one final kiss to her lips before heading back to her cunt.

He spreads her legs wide, until her outer thighs rest on the mattress and his hands grip the insides firmly. “I am not finished.” He whispers.

Y/N whines, covering her face with both hands.

“I will be gentle.” He hushes her. “So, so, gentle.”

She cries out at the feel of his tongue lapping her folds. Everything ablaze.

He draws one last peak from his dearest love before he is satisfied, leaving her a quivering mess. “I want another child.”

Y/N nods, willing to give him anything.

“Turn around for me, up on your knees.”

Y/N rolls onto her belly, pushing up on her elbows and knees.

“Poor, little thing, leaking all over.” Aegon croons. “Does my brother not satisfy you?”

“We do not lie together.” Y/N tells him.

“What is it you do together?” Aegon’s lips twitch.

“Talk.”

He huffs a laugh. “You could talk to anyone, dearest. Why him?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder, “he is quite fascinating.”

“Have you come to care for him?”

“In the way you care for your ladies, I would wager.”

Aegon blinks, slightly dazed, as though he’s never considered it. “I love nothing in this world the way I love you.”

“As I love you.” Y/N peeks over her shoulder at him.

Aegon lines up his aching cock, sliding into her warm, with ease.

Y/N sighs, relishing the feel of him.

Aegon’s thoughts are plagued by the stupid sapphire necklace, bouncing between her breasts. Glittering against the bedding in the soft candle light, laughing at him.

He’s caught off guard by the force which possesses him to move her hair aside and yank the chain until it snaps.

“Ah,” Y/N rears back, clutching the skin of her burning neck.

“I am so terribly sorry, my only love.” Aegon apologizes, gathering her up, with her back to his chest. “It caught on my ring.” He kisses what he can reach of her flesh. He shouldn’t have done it, he knows it was wrong and he hates that he’s hurt her. “I will buy you a new necklace.”

Y/N reaches a hand back to caress his hair, eyes brimming with tears. “It felt as though you tugged.”

Aegon nuzzles her shoulder, leaning into her touch. “I will never harm you on purpose. Forgive me.”

Y/N nods, “of course.”

He turns her face toward him, enough for their lips to meet.

————————————————————————

Aemond does not see Y/N again, not for two nights. Whatever hold the wench has over him will not allow him to surpass that.

He finds her pacing the corridor nearest the library, wringing her hands. “What troubles you, Princess?”

Y/N sucks in a breath, “Aemond.”

“You have not been to the library.”

“I thought it best,” she nods.

“Why?” He leans against the pillar beside her.

“I do not wish to hurt you. After we last spoke, I realized that…”

“You would rather pace in a corridor, inflicting your own suffering than harm me?”

“I suppose I would.”

“If I wish to speak with Aegon about us, would you be opposed?” Aemond asks.

“What would you say?” Her eyes widen.

He taps her chin, “that is none of your concern, sweetling.”

“I love him dearly.” Y/N says, grabbing for his hand.

“Our marriage would only further serve to strengthen your claim to the throne. With Aegon and I at your side, there would be no one to contest you. Your mother, the Queen would be elated to have your claim upheld so fiercely.”

“You raised this matter with my mother?” Y/N whispers.

“I had to be sure it was an option, as I know you will forever toil in servitude of the crown. An honorable venture, for which you will find yourself in need of a King Consort well versed in the histories and matters of the realm.” Aemond takes another step toward her.

“A generous offer,” Y/N nods. “Still I must discuss this with my husband before any decision can be made.”

“Of course,” Aemond smiles.

————————————————————————

Y/N does discuss it with Aegon that night and the mere suggestion lands him in his brother’s room, prepared to kill him.

“I offered you a kindness, to wean you off of that woman at the pleasure house and this is how you repay me? By spitting in my face?” Aegon screams, the veins of his neck pulsing and red with fury.

“While you are busy fucking whores, it is my company your wife seeks. It is her mind which needs stimulating, and however unfortunate, I do not believe you are suited for the task.” Aemond holds both arms behind his back, unfazed by Aegon’s outburst.

“Y/N is the most precious thing in this world to me. She is mine, she has always been mine, she is always going to be mine. Take her cunt, if you must, but nothing more.”

Aemond purses his lips, “we are at an impasse then. I am quite taken with the whole of her.“

“It was me she swore oaths to, my children that grew inside her, my hand she holds. What do you want of her?”

“Soon she will swear the same oaths to me.” Aemond muses, “when I lie with her, it will be my seed that takes.“ He lifts a shoulder, “if you are kind to me, I may allow you to hold her hand as I do it.”

Part 2

#house of the dragon #hotd smut #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen smut #aegon smut #aegon imagine #aegon targaryen fanfic #aemond x y/n #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen smut

1K notes · View notes

klaus-littlestwolf · 5 months ago

Text

Unconsummated -Aemond T.

Aemond finds himself quickly falling in love during the week long celebration of Aegon and Helaena’s wedding. Sadly his perfect lady is already married to a Baratheon. Happily, the idiot has yet to consummate their marriage as he never wanted to marry Y/n Arryn in the first place.

Aemond sets out to take the sweet girl for himself and he will not take ‘No’ for an answer…

It was much too loud for her tastes.

Y/n’s husband lived for parties like this, being honored that he was invited to the wedding of Aegon and Helaena and enjoying himself in every way he could. He was drunk 10 minutes after the ceremony and would be for the entirety of the next 6 days that the week long party went on for.

Y/n left the room as soon as it was acceptable for her to do so, her husband being locked on another noble woman, one who would happily spread her legs for him in a dark hallway later that night and she could do without the embarrassment of that. She ended up locating the library on her walk through the castle and she couldn’t help but stop. The room was huge, 10x the size of her husbands library as his father, his fathers father and on and on before had never been able to read (and neither could her husband).

He forced her to read all of his ravens to him in private as if he believed that no one was aware that he couldn’t read them himself. Y/n ended up knowing quite a lot about the houses and their leaders, her husband threatening to kill her if she ever breathed a private word of it. She was privy to quite a bit of sensitive information because of his illiteracy, knowing that many houses had secretly sworn to follow Aegon as the true born King or people like her husband who were sworn to Rhaenyra as the King commanded. She honestly didn’t care who ran the realm, all Y/n cared about was her small life, her duties, and her children (of which her husband didn’t seem to care to give her). He was too busy with his whores to give her a child.

She found herself a book that interested her, it was a book on High Valyrian which she had always wanted to learn. She had been teaching herself for only about 20 minutes before she heard a throat clear and she jumped up in fear, the book landing on the floor as her eyes met with one purple one staring back at her.

‘My Prince! I am so sorry! I did not know anyone would be here while the celebration went on…’

He stared at her for a moment before responding. ‘No reason to apologize, I understand more than anyone not wanting to celebrate with drunken strangers.’

‘Thank you for your hospitality…I will leave you be then-‘

‘No!’ He insisted, startling her a bit. ‘I’m sorry, I mean no, you don’t need to leave. Please, sit.’ He moved to take the seat beside her, picking up her book and looking at it before smiling. ‘Teaching yourself High Valyrian? Impressive…I am Aemond by the way, might I know my beautiful company’s name?’

‘Y/n Baratheon, my Prince. It is an honor.’

The two of them spent the next 3 hours by the fire in the Library just talking. They got to know each other very well and Aemond even gave her her first lesson in High Valyrian which he admitted she was a quick study at. It wasn’t until Aemond asked about her family that any of their conversation became uncomfortable.

‘You’re married to the eldest Baratheon son, are you not? I knew he had a wife but I did not know he had brought her with him while he-’ Aemond stopped himself as if he was unsure if she knew what her husband was up to.

‘I am aware of his indiscretions. It is how he has always been, nothing to concern yourself with my Prince.’ Aemond’s face was stoic as always but she sensed sympathy like she got from most other people. ‘He never wanted to marry me, his father wanted my name and the alliance of certain supporters. He had hoped marrying me to his son would stop his…activities and make him happy to have a family…he has no interest in such things however and I am left 6 months after our marriage unloved and childless…I’m sorry…you don’t care about that.’ She laughed though Aemond could tell it was hollow.

‘Your husband is an idiot if he does not want you my lady. I have known you for mere hours and I know that you are a smart, kind hearted girl without a judgmental bone in your body. You would be a good mother, of that I am sure.’ Aemond had no clue where that came from. Seeing this girl all alone and feeling unloved was breaking his heart…what is she doing to him?

‘Thank you my Prince, you are too kind.’

Y/n retired not long after, in bed hours before her husband joined her, collapsing into the bed in his clothes and for once she did not move to take care of him, Y/n left him in his clothes and on his chest in the bed.

Her days went on like that for most of the week. She would have breakfast and enjoy a walk in the gardens before finding her way to the library again and spending the rest of the entire day with Aemond. They both made an appearance at the party every night as was expected before abandoning the noisy, drunken mess and enjoying each others company again.

Aemond continued teaching her Valyrian and they could hold conversations now (albeit simple ones) as she was a fast learner. He also told her all about Vhagar, loving her interest in his dragon where most ladies were terrified.

She had raged when he told her of how he really lost his eye, furious that his nephew would do such a thing, all of them. She also condemned the ladies in the court who had made Aemond feel ugly just because of his injured eye. She swore to the heavens that he was one of if not the most beautiful man she had ever seen and she would not take his negative words into account.

Aemond had quickly come to love Y/n and she loved him as well, they both knew but neither of them crossed the line to say it. Though as her husband had never consummated their marriage Aemond had decided that he was going to ask his father to annul the marriage so that he could marry her instead. It would be a good match for his family, Y/n originally being an Arryn, and he knew that her father would take insult from the Baratheons for not taking care of his daughter or making their marriage legal. He was determined to convince her that night, the second to last day of the celebration, however his soon to be Princess never arrived.

Aemond waited for over an hour before searching the party. He found her husband, nearly as drunk as Aegon and with his tongue down a ladies throat but Y/n was not there.

He then left the castle and walked the gardens in search of her as he knew she enjoyed the Red Keeps gardens. After about 5 minutes he found her sitting on a wall overlooking the beach.

‘You are difficult to find, my dear.’ She jumped, turning slightly but not looking at him, turning back to the view.

‘I am sorry my Prince. I have enjoyed our time together but it must come to an end, please forgive me but I wish to be left alone now.’ He was stunned, unsure of how to respond but knowing that he wasn’t about to leave her like this.

‘Whatever I have done, please forgive me Byka Zokla? I do not-‘ (Little Wolf)

‘You have done nothing my Prince! It is I who is in the wrong. I have led you to believe that we could be friends and that was wrong of me. My job is to be there for my husband and I have not been doing my duty-‘

‘Your duty? What about him? He has not taken care of you as is his job as your husband and protector! You’re not waiting on him hand and foot anymore so he is upset, yes? Please? Do not push me away Y/n, I can help you to-‘ he cut himself off as he turned her head to make her look at him and he finally saw what she was hiding from him. Her right eye was black and blue, her bottom lip was split in 2 places and her throat was bruised, clearly in the shape of hands. ‘Oh my Love! No! This will not stand! Come with me.’ He insisted, holding out his hand. She hesitated but he looked down at her softly, giving her time to decide. ‘Trust me?’ After another few seconds Y/n took his hand and allowed him to whisk her off and they arrived in the Small Councils meeting room where the Queen walked in not a moment later having been fetched by a guard for her son.

‘Aemond…what is the meaning of this?!’ Alicent snapped, storming over to the girl and seemingly thinking that her son had done it but she changed her tune when the girl flinched away and hid behind him instead.

‘Mother. This is the girl I spoke to you about, her husband has proved…ungallant. I wish to take her as my bride.’ Alicent was looking over his ladies face when she fully understood what he had said and jerked her head up.

‘My son, she is married already. You cannot just take another man’s wife, even as a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. You-‘

‘Their marriage has not been consummated.’ She stopped speaking and looked between them in shock.

‘Well…that changes things…she will need to testify it to the King and he will need to annul the marriage before anything else can happen. It will take time. I will speak to the Hand and start the process for it, we will find a room for her here to keep her safe from now on.’ Alicent turned to Y/n and held out her hand. ‘Come, let’s get you out of those dirty, bloody clothes and put you to bed.’

‘I will come and say “Goodnight” in a bit. You have a bath and relax…I will take care of you, I promise.’ Aemond swore, kissing her hand and watching her blush before she walked off with his mother.

Aemond straightened himself as she left the room and turned to head back to the party where he almost immediately found the man he was looking for.

Y/n’s husband was holding a full goblet of wine with his arm around a ladies waist looking quite content. Aemond moved beside him to grab himself a cup of wine, purposefully causing the idiot to bump into him.

‘Fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.’ He laughed obnoxiously and Aemond found himself wondering how Y/n ever stood being around him at all.

‘Evidently.’ He rolled his eyes and could instantly see that this man didn’t appreciate the action.

‘You may be a Prince but you’re still only a second son, and no where close to Daddies favorite. Watch yourself. I am the head of Storm’s End and soon enough the Vale, you are nothing and even less than that without your Dragon behind you.’ The man was clearly drunk as fuck but Aemond was happy with that. It would make this easier…

Aemond smirked as he leaned in close, the young Tully girl that he had had on his arm long gone, not willing to upset a Prince, let alone the one eyed prince himself. ‘I fucked your wife.’ He mumbled, close enough that only he could hear and he absolutely did.

‘What the fuck did you say?’ He snarled, eyes nearly catching fire in his instant rage but Aemond stayed calm. He needed to control himself for this to work.

‘I fucked…your wife…Gods knows you weren’t doing it. Such a lonely girl, desperate for a man’s affection and all she was given was an insolent child. It’s pathetic. Don’t worry though, soon enough she will be raising my son and she won’t be worried about you anymore.’ The boy was practically shaking in his rage, fists clenched and men were beginning to take notice, several of the women moving to alert the guards so Aemond would need to do this quickly. ‘Give it 9 months and everyone will know exactly who your wife strayed from you with, the silver haired boy suckling on her tits will be evidence enough. I’m sure with enough words to the King I can ensure my son will inherit all of your lands when you die. Too bad you weren’t man enough to impregnate her yourself or y-‘ He was finally cut off by a truly pathetic punch to his face but he played into it, falling dramatically to the ground and biting his tongue, spitting blood out to make it seem worse than it had been.

He was grabbed instantly and held back from coming at Aemond again who smirked up at him, the boy only seeming to now realize what had happened. ‘Chain this drunken fool and take him to the Black Cells for-‘

‘No!’ Aemond snapped, cutting off his Grandsire. ‘It was me that he assaulted and as a Prince of the realm it is my decision what happens to him.’ He declared and though Otto looked at him strangely he nodded nonetheless. He reached out, grabbing the collar of the drunk and yanked him forward, dragging him from the party and outside through the front gate.

‘Aemond-‘

‘He dies tonight, would you like to argue?’ The one eyed Prince hissed at his Grandsire who knew not to argue with him in this state.

Vhagar peeked her eyes open at the sound of men approaching her beach, seeing her rider dragging along a man that was trying very hard to get away or hurt him making her bare her teeth and hiss instantly.

‘Dokimarvos Vhagar! Umbās!’ He spoke to her and she sat her head up and waited for her rider to speak. *Pay Attention Vhagar! Wait!*

‘This is a message to anyone that thinks to defy me or Gods forbid, harm the people I care about. I am not merciful, you can find mercy with my family but not here. Anyone who wants to disagree with this will not end up in the Black cells, but with my Dragon as their punishment!’ Aemond ignored Otto who was trying to stop his rushed decision. ‘Dohaerās Vhagar! Kisās!’ *Obey Vhagar! Eat!*

Everyone watched on as the giant she-dragon lifted her head over the abusive asshole and opened her mouth wide before chomping down on the man and seeming to swallow him whole which had several people screaming and one man actually fainting.

Aemond was proud of himself, he had saved his girl and it barely took an hour.

He quickly made his way back into the Red Keep and up to the room that he knew his mother had put his soon-to-be wife in. As he entered, knocking softly as to not frighten her, he saw her in a sleep shift and he couldn’t help but stare. His girl was beautiful and she was going to be all his now.

‘Did you have a nice bath?’ He asked, moving to pull the blankets back for her and enjoying her soft blush as she crawled into the bed.

‘It was very relaxing. I’ve never had servants to wash me like that before.’ She teased, though Aemond was surprised by that.

‘You are a lady, are you not? How-‘

‘My mother took care of us as children and when we grew she insisted that we were able to bathe ourselves. My husband however, did not want anyone seeing me in a state of undress…it was strange but nice I suppose. A lady could get used to such treatment.’ Her soft laugh was everything Aemond loved as he reached out and cupped the side of her face.

‘You will get used to it. You are to be my wife, and my wife will have the best of everything. I will bathe you myself if it brings you happiness.’ He teased her, kissing the side of her head before standing again. ‘Get some sleep my lady, no one will bother you, you have my word-‘

‘Will you stay?’ She asked and though he was startled he did not let it show, knowing she was still probably feeling afraid after all that had happened, especially now that she’s in a strange place that she’s sure to never leave again. She would need to get used to being his and knowing that she is completely safe here, she would learn to trust what he said when he told her that he would never let anyone harm her again-let alone another husband. Aemond removed his shoes and coat, as well as his weapons before crawling onto the other side and feeling her head rest on his shoulder. He was careful not to touch any of her injuries as he let her drift off to sleep. He knew his mother would be upset at his sleeping here but he didn’t care. Y/n would be his wife by the weeks end and he would give her everything that bitch of a “husband” could not.

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

playnextdoor · 11 days ago

Text

I adore you puppy

summary: you and caitlyn try a collar and a leash

CW: swearing, drinking, slight intoxication, dom! caitlyn, the reader wears a collar and leash, the reader is referred to as "puppy" but its not petplay, slight slapping (i love it idc), Cait is a little mean (whats new), reader's chest is referred to as 'breasts', fingering (r! receiving), not really proofread despite it sitting in my drafts for the past week

The thought of introducing your kinks to Caitlyn crosses your mind one drunken night. Red wine makes you horny and tired, and you stretch out on the couch, trying to look seductive, but in reality, it looks like you’re struggling not to fall. Caitlyn, practically sober as she watches you, finds it endearing.

“I’ve been thinking,” you say, slurring slightly as you sit up and sip wine from your sleek glass. Caitlyn’s eyes follow how your tongue traces the rim of the glass, lingering on your lips. You’re oblivious to the effect you have on her. She wants to take you to bed, cradle your darling face, and perhaps tease you a little. But her respect for you keeps her patient, she’ll wait until you’re sober.

Caitlyn glances up from her book, the candlelight casting a warm glow over the left side of her face.

“What do ya think..” you hiccup, earning a soft laugh from her, “of me wearing a collar?”You finish the thought as you empty your glass.

Caitlyn blinks in surprise and then shakes her head, chuckling under her breath.

“I’m not opposed,” she says, her body leaning toward yours. Her movement invites a kiss, and you meet her halfway. She plants one kiss on the corner of your mouth, then presses her lips softly to yours, letting it linger. Before she can deepen it, you jab a finger into her chest.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you mumble, your half-lidded eyes locking with hers. Her calm and composed expression only fuels your anticipation. She smiles softly.

“Yes, I think you’d look adorable,” she replies, taking your hand gently from her chest. “But I think you’ll feel better in the morning if you drink some water and lie down.”

Rolling your eyes, you leave her and stumble toward the kitchen. As you giggle, you hear Caitlyn’s quick footsteps behind you. She’s close, ready to catch you if you trip down the long staircase.

Two nights later, you waited for her arrival, just as you did most nights. The moon illuminated her room, highlighting its true size and casting a soft glow over everything. Your eyes lingered on the intricate mosaic paintings adorning the tall ceilings. The sheets on her bed, smooth and luxurious, wrapped around you like a silky sateen ocean.

Her familiar footsteps echoed in the hallway, each heavy boot fall growing closer. She opened the door gently, unaware that you were already awake, and your body turned toward her. You watched her undress like a creep, not that she would mind. Loosening her dark blue, almost black hair from its ponytail, a soft sigh slipping from her lips. Facing away from you, she began to undress. You couldn’t help but muffle your giggles as you notice her struggle, nearly tripping over her feet while shedding the multiple layers of clothing.

“Cait,” you whispered harshly for the third time, startling her. She dropped her eyepatch, the final item she had been removing. Clutching her chest, she spun toward you, her expression shifting into a defeated smile.

“Sorry,” you murmured softly.

She shook her head, silently dismissing your apology, and approached you with something hidden behind her back.

“I have something for you,” she whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. Despite her composed demeanor, she kept her voice low, as if the guards a few halls down might hear. “Take a look.”

You sat up in the tangle of sheets, and Caitlyn steadied herself by placing a knee on the bed.

She pulled out a small black box, just large enough to fit in her slim hand. As she opened it toward herself, she bit her lip.

“You’re gonna kill me,” she muttered.

When she finally turned the box toward you, your breath hitched. Inside lay a beautiful black leather collar, accented with a silver pendant. The shining cursive letters spelling Kirramman’s made your cheeks flush.

“Caitlyn! Have you lost your mind?” you half whispered exclaimed, playfully shoving her shoulder. Her eyes met yours, and her soft smile mirrored your embarrassment. Both of you blushed like awkward teenagers on a first date.

“I only asked one person to make it, and I promise they don’t know its intended use,” she replied, pulling the collar from its box. The protective cotton piece fell away, revealing a silver chain attached to the leather. She tested the leash, letting the metal clink softly as she ran her fingers over it.

“And what exactly is the intended purpose?” you asked, a devious smile creeping across your lips. You already knew the answer; you were the one who’d suggested it, duh.

Caitlyn shrugged, faking innocence. “To remind you of your place. You’ve had trouble listening lately,” she teased, her smug grin now firmly in place. Her gaze locked onto yours, silently seeking permission without pressuring you.

Her words sent heat coursing through you. Caitlyn’s authoritative tone, paired with the quiet, deliberate attention she always gave you, left you squeezing your thighs together.

“You need to tell me, my love,” she said, snapping you out of your thoughts. Her finger tilted your chin upward, forcing you to meet her eyes.

“Uhhhh, yeah,” you stammered, blinking up at her. Her tall figure seemed to grow even more imposing, towering over you as her voice wrapped around you like a command.

“No, no, no,” Caitlyn laughed, and you couldn’t tell if she found your reaction cute or pathetic—probably both. “It’s yes…?” she prompted, her tone expectant.

Her fingers trailed down from your chin to your neck, gripping it gently. The slight pressure made your breath hitch, and you barely suppressed a moan.

“Yes, miss,” you finally whispered.

"Oh, come on now, up," Caitlyn commands.

She sits gracefully, wearing nothing but lacy black panties and a loosely tied silky blue robe, her black eyepatch in place just as it was that morning. The way her legs cross so effortlessly has you shifting uncomfortably in your current position.

You're nearly nude, just your underwear and the collar you'd so desperately wanted to wear. Now, with Caitlyn checking on you every minute to make sure you're okay, the caress of her fingers over your cheek, the weight of it feels all too real.

You perch yourself on the sofa beside her, glancing up. She notices everything-the slight sheen in your eyes, the unsteady rise and fall of your chest, and the way the metal leash gleams as it dangles between you. Her hand remains steady on the handle, a subtle reminder of how she’s in control.

"You've been good, yeah?" she asks softly, her hand lifting to cup your cheek. You can’t help but lean into it. Her thumb brushes gently across your skin, leaving you warm and utterly undone beneath her touch.

You nod, but Caitlyn gives you a light slap across your cheek.

You nod, but Caitlyn lightly slaps your cheek.

“Speak,” she demands, her words sharp. You shrink under her gaze, feeling yourself grow small.

“Yes, miss,” you whisper hoarsely, your hands clasping together as they fidget, bracing for her next move.

“So, does that mean you deserve to be touched?” she presses, her hand gently soothing the heat rising on your cheek.

“Yes, miss,” you answer more firmly this time, earning a satisfied hum from Caitlyn. She pats her lap, her hand swiftly wrapping the metal chain around her wrist as you scramble to comply, nearly toppling over in your rush.

“Well, you have to tell me where you need me,” she teases, tugging the chain gently while you wiggle into place beside her. Her hand glides over your neck, collarbone, the curve of your chest, and down to your stomach.

“Do you want me inside yet?” she asks, her fingers trailing down your body, brushing over your clothed clit. The white, lacy-frilled panties she chose for you stand in sharp contrast to the black leather collar snug around your neck.

You nod eagerly, only to realize too late that you’ve made the same mistake again.

Pulling harsher this time, Caitlyn caused you to topple nearly over her. Her condescending tone makes you want to hide in a corner. “Really?” She asks with disappointment hints in her voice.

“I—” you stammer, scrambling back into position. The word sticks in your throat as the restraint tugs firmly against you. Her warm and intoxicating scent overwhelms your senses, leaving you helplessly melting into her presence. “I want you inside, miss. Please.”

She releases the leash and cups your face gently, guiding your gaze to hers. Her lips meet yours in a soft, healing kiss. As you kiss back timidly, she presses harder against your clit, making you hiss as the friction builds. You grind down instinctively, gasping when her teeth nip at your bottom lip.

“Take them off,” she commands, patting your cunt lightly to urge you. You slide off to the side, removing the damp underwear with shaky hands. Folding them neatly, you place them on the armrest before turning back to her, your eyes wide and glossy with anticipation.

She watches you with an almost possessive pride, savoring the sight of your desperation. Knowing she’s the only one who gets to see you like this—so raw, so eager—feeds her. It’s intoxicating. The two of you are unashamedly perverse, but Caitlyn always takes it further, and you love her for it.

“So noisy today, hmm?” Caitlyn teases, her fingers playing with your folds as your hips rock weakly to meet her touch. Your hands rise to your chest, fiddling with the collar around your neck. The sight sends Caitlyn reeling.

“Maybe I need to gag you, yeah?” she murmurs, her voice strained to match your breathless mewls. You nod eagerly, the movement growing frantic as she presses two fingers firmly against your swollen clit, grinding slowly and deliberately.

“Uh-uh, Cait—” you choke out, grabbing at the cold chain for comfort. The soft clicking of the metal and the mix of your moans fill the room. Forgotten, the leash handle dangles loosely from her hand as Caitlyn watches you lose yourself on her fingers. Leaning closer, she struggles to see clearly past her eyepatch, and you arch instinctively, putting on an even more shameless show for her.

Leaning back onto her hand, you take control, fucking yourself on her fingers. One arm clings to the headboard of the couch for support as you bounce and grind in a rhythmic frenzy. Caitlyn watches, captivated by the soft ‘o’ of your mouth, the slick, obscene strings of arousal dripping down her fingers, the way your free hand grips the leash tightly.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Caitlyn gasps, her voice heavy with desire. Her fingers move with your faltering rhythm, guiding you as exhaustion creeps in. She presses her palm harder against your clit, each contact pushing you closer. Caitlyn knows this move too well; she’s perfected it. Memories flood back of her chest pressed to your back, her fingers curving just right, leaving you trembling for hours afterward.

This time, you nod eagerly, her two fingers sliding deeper as your voice catches. The rough drag of her palm sends sparks shooting through you, pooling heat low in your stomach.

“Y’gonna come?” Caitlyn coos. You nod again, your wide eyes meeting hers, pleading. She visibly restrains herself from yanking your leash to deny you of your release. Sweat gleams on your chest as it rises and falls, your breaths uneven.

“Beg then,” she commands.

You whine first, and she tugs the leash sharply.

“C’mon, you can do it. What happened to my sweet puppy, hmm?” Her teasing strikes a nerve, the word puppy breaking you. Your body gushes in her hand, trembling.

“Please miss —Caitlyn, please need you.” You try speeding your hips up, but she's already steps ahead of you. Her fingers relentlessly speed up, and she can tell how much you like them when she slightly curves them. She watches as you plea and cry, head tilting back as she unashamedly watches the way your tits bounce with every thrust of her fingers.

“Please, miss—Caitlyn, please, need you,” you stammer, hips speeding up. But she’s already ahead of you, her fingers relentless, curving just enough to hit that spot you like. She watches intently as you plead and cry, your head tilting back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust.

“Cait— mm gonna,” you can barely get the words out as if this girl’s fingers can’t get any faster. The soft squelching of your arousal as her fingers splatter in little spurts over the sofa. You glance down and nearly come again at the sight of her fingers playing with your folds, your brain turning to mush.

“Holy shit!” a high-pitched sound cried out as you came, falling onto the back of the sofa. Caitlyn nearly dives onto you, fingers slipping out as she rubs soothing circles on your swollen clit. And all you can do is take it so far gone that you can't help but jerk every time Cait flicks your bud a certain way.

Your legs clamp together instinctively, trapping her wrist as you slump against the couch. Heart racing, you whimper softly as Caitlyn withdraws her hand, wiping her fingers before leaning in to kiss your cheek. Unhooking the leash from your collar, she steps away, grabbing her robe and the long-forgotten glass of water.

“So… puppy, hmm?” she teases, a smirk tugging at her lips.

You glare at her, cheeks flushing, which only makes her laugh.

“Enough,” you mumble, turning your face into the pillow to hide your embarrassment. Caitlyn trails her hand up your bare

back, her nails scratching lightly, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“It’s cute, no? I know you like it,” she says softly, her voice dripping with confidence as her fingers trace idle patterns across your skin.

You nod into the pillow, fidgeting, too embarrassed to face her. Caitlyn always teases you like this after your moments together, her confidence making it impossible to get back at her. But this time, she lets you be. Brushing back the hair covering your neck, she leans down to kiss the spot where the collar sat, trailing soft kisses down your back.

Her lips trail along your bare skin, soft and gentle, as she whispers, “You know, I love seeing you like this. All mine.”

Your face heats, but you can’t help the muttered response that escapes. “You’re insufferable.” The words are muffled into the pillow, your voice tinged with lingering embarrassment.

Caitlyn laughs softly, the sound low and warm in your ear. “Insufferable, huh?” she repeats, her hand wandering to lightly pinch your thigh, earning a startled squeak from you. “Pretty bold for someone who was just crying on my fingers.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” you mutter, rolling onto your side to glance at her, your lips curving into a small, tired smile.

“Oh, puppy,” she grins, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, “you’re lucky I fucking adore you.”

The words catch you off guard, leaving you warm and speechless. Caitlyn leans in, her lips brushing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss that sends a comforting warmth in your chest.

a/n: i apologize for this unintentional writing hiatus, life has been crazy. this was supposed to be longer but i got lazy and insecure lol, hope you enjoyed it anyway

#caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn smut #caitlyn kiramman smut #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader smut #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn arcane #arcane smut #arcane x reader smut #orion's writing

508 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 6 months ago

Note

Hi luv, can I request something?

I was thinking about a poly!wolfstar x fem!reader where reader is feeling down because of her period but don’t wanna tell the boys bc she’s embarrassed. But she ends up acting all sad and the boys are really worried, thinking they did something wrong, and when they finally find out the truth they try to comfort her? A little angst with fluff ending, lots of cuddles. Only if you feel comfortable writing it, of course!

I love your writing, btw

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: period sadness

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 971 words

“She’s moping,” Sirius whispers, arms crossed and dark brows bunched. He’s leaning back against the counter, having followed Remus into the kitchen to ‘help make the popcorn’. Two fingers tap restlessly on his bicep.

Remus watches the movement, pensive. “She might’ve just had a rough day,” he says back. The sound of popcorn in the microwave works to cover his voice. “I think she’d tell us if we’d done something to upset her.”

He gets where Sirius is coming from. You’ve seemed a tad dimmer than usual, mumbly and perhaps a bit tired. But Sirius is quick to worry, and he has a nose for tension that occasionally sniffs it out when it’s not really there.

“She might not.” Sirius is doing that thing where he looks and sounds angry when really he’s worried. Remus leans over to kiss his hair.

“She’s better than us,” he reassures him, taking the popcorn from the microwave and leading the way back into the living room.

You’re huddled up in one corner of the couch, blanket pulled tight around you and eyes looking to nowhere. You perk up a little when Remus shakes some of the popcorn into a bowl and sets it in your lap.

“Thanks,” you say.

“Course. Did you pick a film?”

“I started to, but…” You shrug, passing the remote to Sirius as he sits down next to you. “You guys can pick, I don’t really care what we watch.”

Sirius sends Remus a look. See? Remus frowns. He’s still not convinced you’re upset with them, specifically, but your upset in general is hard to deny.

It’s unsettling to have you glum like this. He and Sirius have always been prone to their moods, but you’re…not, so much. It’s not that you never have a bad day, of course, they try to give you the environment to feel whatever you like. They’ve just not seen you like this before, obviously upset but seemingly with no cause.

Sirius picks one of your favorite films anyway. The intro credits start, and ordinarily, this would be the part where you lean onto your other side and cozy up to him, but you don’t. You stay curled up in your corner, eyes at half-mast and pretty face impassive.

The sweet bit of skin between Sirius’ brows is marred by a dent.

Remus is sitting in the armchair adjacent to your side of the couch. He reaches across the space for your hand. With so overt a request, you give it to him, looking a touch bemused. He holds your gaze, sweeping his thumb over your knuckles.

“Are you alright?”

You blink. “Me?” When Remus doesn’t look away, you shrink slightly, shoulders pulling up towards your ears. “I’m fine, yeah. Are you?”

“Oh, how crafty,” Sirius drawls. “Redirect the question, we’ll never see through that.”

You smile cautiously. “Way to make me asking my boyfriend how he is seem nefarious.”

Sirius’ answering grin is sharp, but Remus can see the anxiety beneath it. “You’re not as subtle as you think, babe. Why don’t you tell us what’s got you so twisted up, huh?”

Just like that, you shut down again. You pull your hand from Remus’, fixing your eyes on the TV. “I’m not twisted up,” you say.

“Dovey,” Remus says softly. When you look at him, your expression is controlled but your gaze is tentative. “Have we done something to upset you?”

“What?” A line forms between your brows, a companion for Sirius’. “No, you’ve—you’re perfect.”

“Well, I like to think so,” Sirius agrees breezily, “but you’re obviously not happy with us. It’d help if you’d just say what it is, so apologies and amends can commence. Unless it’s that I left the toilet paper roll empty again, in which case I can only say that you knew what you were getting into when you moved in.”

His feeble attempt at levity doesn’t make much of a dent in your creased expression, though you do tilt up one side of your mouth as though to commend him for his effort.

“I’m not upset with either of you,” you say slowly. Your tone carries a hue of resignation. “I promise, if I was mad I would say.”

Now it’s Remus’ turn to look at Sirius. See? But Sirius looks even more troubled, as though he can’t fathom what could be wrong in your life if it’s not him.

“You are upset, though,” Remus says softly. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh, the sound heavy with that unidentified melancholy, and Sirius seems to feel secure enough now to drop a kiss on your shoulder. “Nothing’s wrong,” you reply, defeated. “I’m just in a mood because of my period, sorry. I don’t mean to be a bother.”

Remus coos, reaching across the gap again to pet your baby hairs.

Sirius leans into your side. “You?” he asks, kissing your shoulder again. “Never. Why didn’t you say, lovebug?”

You shrug. You seem to be slumping deeper into the couch with every affectionate touch, your body relaxing. “It’s a bit embarrassing. I don’t want to be acting all sad just because my hormones are going funny.”

“You’re not just acting sad if you are actually sad,” Remus points out. “Is your stomach hurting you?”

“Not really.” You shift your weight so you’re leaning into Sirius, too. He looks about as happy as he can be when someone he loves is hurting, bottom lip pushed out as he rubs your shoulder and smooshes his cheek into the top of your head. “Just sad.”

“D’you wanna watch something happy, sweetheart?” Sirius asks, voice dripping with a syrupy sweetness. “Or something sad, to cry it out?”

You shrug again. “Maybe just a little sad? Like The Perks of Being a Wallflower.”

“That’s only a little sad to you? Shit, baby, you’re tough as nails.”

1K notes · View notes

nanaslutt · 1 year ago

Note

i just wanna like… have toji teach me how to give him head 😞

you and me both

contains: fem reader, oral(m!receiving), slightly inexperienced reader, big dick!toji, size kink, manhandling, throat fucking, cum eating, slight asphyxiation, praise, he talks you it, established relationship, dirty talk, sweet!toji :p

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

You’ve been standing behind the couch where toji sat for 5 minutes now.

Youve been wanting to give him head for a while now, but you have no idea where to even start.

For one you’ve never even sucked a dick before, not having a lot of prior experience before you met toji. And second, his dick was intimidatingly big.

He always had to fuck you open on four of his fingers; having had at least 2 orgasms; before he even thought about putting his dick inside you, and still the stretch was barely manageable.

The thought of what he might do to your throat since having the knowledge of how bad he can wreck your pussy, scared you.

He was so patient with you though, always wiping your fat tears off of your cheeks, cooing at your pained expression, while he let you cockwarm him, getting used to his girth before he ultimately fucked your brains out.

“Ur bein’ fucking creepy doll, what is it.” his deep voice sounded through the room. Making you stand on edge as you bit the inside of your cheek, having been found out.

“Sorry..” you bashfully apologized, walking around the side of the couch to see your boyfriend sprawled out in front of the television.

Big thighs manspreading on the cushions, arms laid out on the back of the couch, one large hand was holding a freshly cracked beer can, as he looked up at you with his dark eyes.

The look you had on your face made him curious as to what the hell you were thinking about. A mix of nervousness and contemplation plastered on your pretty face as you started to climb on him.

You slung your arms over his shoulders, straddling his hips, and placed your head in the crook of his neck and sighed deepy.

“Whacha thinkin about pretty girl?” toji asked, hand not holding his drink coming down to rest against you ass.

“I uh.. wanted to ask for your help.” you softly replied. Toji stayed silent, rubbing his hand over your backside encouragingly as he waiting for you to get the courage to speak again. He brought the beer to his mouth in the meantime, taking a couple sips.

“Been thinking about sucking your dick but uh.. I’ve never done it before.” your unexpected bluntness made him choke on his drink, recovering quickly as he looked at you the best he could with your head being in his neck and all.

“Yeah? Been thinkin’ about it?” he teased, you could practically hear his cocky smirk.

You let out a soft “mhmm” in reply.

Toji always ate you out so good, leaving you a shaking and shivering mess on his sheets every time he was finished licking you clean. He never complained when you didn’t return the favor, he knew how big he was and his experiences with women giving him head in the past wasn’t exactly.. enjoyable.

Reminders of the dull teeth that would scrape against his cock, or the lack of technique the women would use on him would flood his mind whenever he thought about receiving head.

He already picked up on how intimidated you were when his length flopped against his stomach when he removed his boxers, which is why he never dared to bring up the idea.

He figured if you wanted to try it, you would ask, then you would try, and it ultimately it wouldn’t work out like always and that would be alright.

Although toji never complained about it, he had constant fantasies of your lips around his cock. Nights when you weren’t at his apartment he spent his time in his bed, hand wrapped around his thick cock as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He would apply a generous amount of lube, trying to simulate the feeling of your wet mouth as he fucked his hips into his hand, pretending it was sliding down your warm throat.

His fantasy always shattering when he came, vividly picturing your face covered in his cum right before he came, but snapping out of the pipe dream when he felt the hot ropes of cum shoot on his stomach instead.

But that was satisfactory, you did plenty for him in bed, always taking his cock so fucking well, stroking him off with your small hands, his dick pressing between your thighs, your tits; he was spoiled, so who was he to complain?

Although his reply to your confession was fairly composed, toji was mentally losing his shit. Trying not to get hard at the situation and potentially scare you away when you realized his problem, being reminded of just how big he was and turning you off from the idea.

Little did he know you were well aware of that fact already. You would never be able to forget the way he split you open with the sheer size of his cock, for as long as you lived.

“I can teach you if that really sounds like somethin’ you want” he spoke nonchalantly, trying not to get his hopes up at the thought that you might actually be the one to take his dick down your throat, heart betraying him as is practically beat out of his chest.

“Really?” you perked up, sitting up to face him, loooking like an eager puppy. “Can we try it now?” you asked.

exactly like an eagar puppy.

“You sure your ready for it?” he asked, setting his drink down on the side table before joining his other hand in grabbing your ass.

“Why not? you are.” you giggle, glancing down to his lap, referring to the massive tent he was sporting. Clearly his efforts in trying to keep it down were in vein.

but jesus christ was he in high school? popping a boner at the mention of head? good lord he needed to get a grip.

“Smart ass,” he left a light slap on your backside, making you giggle. He leaned over and grabbed a pillow he used as decoration on the sofa, “Go ahead and get on your knees for me, use this so yer knees don’t hurt.” his gruff voice spoke.

You nodded obediently, placing the pillow on the carpet right between his spread thighs, while you folded your knees on the pillow, playing your hands on his knees as you waited for your next instruction.

“Rumor has it my dick is unsuckable, so,” he paused, “if this doesn’t go how you think it will, it’s not yer fault.” he assured, ruffling your hair.

“I can take it.” is the only thing you said back, the look you had in your eyes was so determined, it made his grin stretch across his face.

You watched intently as toji pulled down the band of his sweats and boxers alike. Massive cock springing up like always. His angry tip was leaking so fucking much, you were truly oblivious to how bad this idea affected the older man.

He wrapped his big hand around his thick cock, using the precum he was leaking to ease the slide against the skin as he looked down at you while you watched him stroke himself.

He noticed you squirming from your place on the floor, not to subtly pressing your thighs together.

“Watchin’ me touch myself make ur little pussy all wet?” Toji spoke, smirk, still prevalent on his face. The way in which he spoke made you think you had no shame at all.

You nodded, mouth watering watching his pre bead up in the slid of his cock before dripping down, getting swiped up by tojis large hand.

“‘s so big toji” you spoke, intimidation obviously laced in your voice, but you were so determined to be the one who took tojis cock.

You wanted to show him exactly how good he made you feel when he used his mouth for you.

“C-can I?” you slid your hands on his big thighs, training twords his cock, watching him strok himself steadily.

“Can you what?” Toji always made you use your words. He never got tired of watching how embarrassed and flustered you got over stuff like this.

His head spinning when a blush covered your face, eyes darting around the room before you spoke again, “”Can I touch it, please,” you asked.

Toji quickend his strokes, “Look at me baby.” Your eyes instantly meeting each other at his demand, his eyebrows were furrowed together. A look was plastered on his face that said you can do better than that.

Keeping your eyes on Toji’s dark and intimidating ones, you elaborated begrudgingly, “Wanna stroke your cock Toji, please”

He let out a short aroused laugh, big hand placing itself on your own, against his thigh, “Course you can baby, jus’ had to ask,”

He curled his fingers under yours, scooting his hips towards you on the couch before he placed your hand on his cock, his hand covering yours.

“You don’t need any help with this part right? Little hands always touch me so fucking good.” he praised, retracting his grip around his cock as he let you take over.

Your other hand came up to join the fun, using both your hands to wrap around his cock. You payed special attention to the tip, just how you knew toji liked, twisting your wrists together, creating delicious friction on his length.

Toji’s abs clenched under his shirt, feeling your hands on him always felt too good, his eyes drooping even more as you stroked him with vigor.

His eyebrows suddenly shot up when your head dropped down to his crotch. Your pink tongue darted out to lick in the slit of his cock, licking at the precum that had beaded up again.

He swear his brain short circuited when he felt your warm tongue touch him. That barely there feeling alone felt a hundred times better than his hand trying to mimic your mouth when he was alone.

“Someone’s eagar.” he laughed, arousal seeping into his voice when he spoke, big hand coming down to rest against your head comfortingly.

“Wanna make you feel good, can you uh.” you paused, “can you teach me now?” he thought it was so fucking cute how you currently had his dick in his hands, stroking it with a technique on par with a porn star, and you were embarrassed asking him to show you how to suck his dick.

“Want me to teach my pretty girlfriend how to suck my dick?” he corrected, making you squeeze your thighs together at his filthy mouth, an action that did not go unnoticed by toji; none of your reactions did.

“Please” you whimpered.

He tucked in his lips for a second, reminding himself not to cum the second his tip was in your mouth. Letting his plush lips pop back out he started his lesson.

“Start by lickin’ on it, just like you did a second ago.” he instructed. Toji watched you nod, looking so focused when you dropped your head back down, flattening out your tongue and rubbing it along his tip.

He relished in the feeling of thr little circles and shapes you drew. Your strokes had died down against his length, putting all of your focus on your mouth that would soon be around him.

“You can suck on the tip if you can get yerself to do it too.” He groaned out.

You wasted no time, taking a deep breath through your nose before sliding your lips down around his tip and suckling.

“Atta fuckin’ girl,” toji bit his lip between his teeth when you followed his instruction so quickly. “Use your tongue when you suck on it too princess, it’ll make me feel so fuckin good” he added, knowing how much you loved getting him off.

So you listened, rolling your tongue around his tip as you bobbed your head a bit, taking his tip and just under that into your mouth. He tasted salty against your tongue as his tip leaked pre steadily into your mouth.

Toji slung a hand up behind him, placing it on the back of the sofa and squeezing the pillow between his fingers harshly, trying to ground himself, his other tangling itself in your hair still.

He had to actively fight his hips to not thrust into your mouth and just bully his cock down your throat, but it was so fucking hard. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to do so at the visual of you eagerly sucking on his cock.

He clenched his jaw hard when you looked up at him, presumably, for another direction.

“Wanna try taking it a little deeper?” he asked, eyes fluttering when you moaned out an “mhmm” around him, abs clenching at the vibration.

“Good girl.” He praised at your need to learn. “Keep your teeth tucked behind your lips and relax your throat so you don’t choke,” he gagged, though the thought of you choking around him didn’t sound half bad, but he was trying to be nice right now.

“Don’t push urself doll, take more whenever your ready.” he said, restraint was coursing through his veins. He didn’t want to get carried away and start thrusting haphazardly. He knew that if he showed restraint and this went well, that maybe in the future you would let him fuck your throat, that thought kept him sane right now, constantly reminding him of that revelation.

Toji tried to let himself relax against the cushions when you took him a little deeper.

Your mouth was being stretched painfully around his length the further you got down, a similar feeling to how your cunt felt when he slid in for the first time.

Eyes starting to water, forcing back a gag when you barely got halfway down his cock, and he was already pressed to the back of your throat.

Toji’s eyes rolled back in his sockets, he ran his fingers through your hair at the feeling of your mouth constricting him. “Doin so fucking good baby girl shiiiit,” he groned. You rubbed your thighs together at the praise.

So far he only felt your teeth graze him once, and that was already doing way better than the people who have attempted this before you.

The moans and whimpers you let out around him were sending delicious vibrations straight to his balls. His cock throbbing and twitching inside your warm mouth, threatening to spill into the cavern already.

He wanted to let you have your fun before he ruined it with his orgasm, and would ultimately have to wait till his cock was ready again before you continued. Although it probably wouldn’t take long with knowing just how hard he got in seconds at only the thought of your mouth around him, now having experienced it a little, he might not even have a refractory period after he came.

but he digressed

Toji jolted when you gagged around his cock, coughing around him and sending sputters of spit around him. “Fuck, c-careful doll, don’t hurt yourself” Toji groaned.

While you let yourself get used to taking in half, your hands came up to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Bob your head a little pretty thing, keep using your tongue too, just like you did for my tip.” his deep voice instructed when he noticed you just kept his length in your mouth, only moving your hands.

You followed his advice, bringing your warm mouth up, and back down on the amount that was comfortable for you right now, hands meeting your lips on the upstroke.

Toji was in heaven, he wanted to pull out his phone and take a video so he never forgot the scene in front of him.

He had never experienced receiving head that felt this fucking good before. His toes were curling in his slippers, balls tightening, and abs clenching rhythmically to match his heart wet as he watched you work.

It was so messy, spit was accumulating on the base of his cock, and his pelvis. Watching string of spit connect from the base to your small hands and lips was making his head feel fuzzy.

Much to his dismay, you popped off his dick, keeping your grip around the bottom of his cock when you spoke, “Toji, I wanna take it deeper” you whined, sounding frustrated. “Cant do it by myself, It won’t go any further.” you poured up at him, begging eyes pleading for some guidance.

oh this was fucking perfect, he thought.

The promise of future throatfucking that was preventing him from destroying your throat right now; opting to let you set the pace; might be seeing the light of day sooner than he though.

“Want me to help you sweet thing?” He asked, holding your cheek in his large palm, rubbing against your spit covered skin.

“P-please toji” you begged.

He felt the coil in his stomach tighten, this would not take long, but that was fine, he didn’t know if you would be able to take it for very long anyways.

Toji stood up in front of you, holding the sides of your head in his hands as he spoke, “Gonna fuck your throat okay?” he said, “If it’s too much jus’ tap my thigh n’ i’ll stop” he said, chest heaving before you took his cock back into your mouth.

You gripped your nails into his thighs, rubbing your legs together as you tried to alleviate some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs.

You started to bob the first couple inches of him in your mouth, hands free; before he spoke. “Gonna move now ‘kay?” Toji waited till he felt you nod before he thrust his hips into your mouth.

You panicked a bit when you felt his cock slide down your throat, gagging around him when he pressed his balls completely to your chin, short hairs on his pelvis tickling your nose.

“Fucking- sh-ittt,” Toji groaned, holding you against him while you gagged and sputtered, “Relax your throat baby, ‘s okay, not gonna hurt ya” he comforted, “Took me so fucking well,” he continued praising.

Warning you before he started thrusting, you dug your nails into his skin, making him groan as he fucked his cock in and out of your wet cavern.

He cooed at you, watching the cat tears roll down your thighs as he mercilessly fucked your mouth. Years of unsatisfactory blowjobs and pent up need was being unleashed on your throat, and you were taking it like a fucking champ. “God, right fucking t-throat feels so good baby, you okay?” he asked, knowing you were in no place to give a proper respose, but he felt the agreement in vibrations around him when you tried to spoke

Making his smirk stretch across his face once more. Spit strings were connecting from your chin and his balls, as he kept up his bruising pace. “fuckfuckfuck,” toji let out a string of curses, “good-fucking-girl” he repeated in between thrusts.

The eye contact you were keeping with him was making him feel drunk, “Keep lookin at my baby, doin so good, keep those pretty eyes on me,” he instructed, biting his lip down at you.

He pulled your head off of his cock right before he came, letting you swallow down air as you let a small coughing fit wrack your lungs, toji pet your hair until the end of it.

“Doin so good,” he praised “I’m about to cum, Is it alright if I go a little harder? Wont take long sweet thing,” he promised.

Your small hand leaving his thigh to rub at your sore throat, strained voice pushing out your consent before he continued.

You used your hand to guide his cock back in your mouth, before dropping it back onto his thigh for stability. He wiped away your tears before he started up again, “You can take it,” he assured.

He curled his fingers into your head, gripping your hair as he brought your head into him to meet his thrusts, heavy balls slapping your chin with his mean thrusts, gagging and groans of approval being heard throughout the room.

Toji didn’t lie when he said this wouldn’t take long, his thrusts were so much rougher than before, more frequent too, leaving you with a shorter window to get air into your lungs between thrusts.

Vision starting to twinkle with spots when his thrusts started becoming erratic and losing their rhythm, “Take it take it fuck” his deep voice groaned, “So fucking close ohmygod“ he looked down at your fluttering eyes, new tears having been spilled over your cheeks at the harshness.

“Gonna swallow it all for me pretty girl? hmm?” The final straw being when you looked up at him, finally making eye contact with your fucked out eyes, “cumming- shit shit sh-“ he groaned long and deep, hot ropes of cum shooting down your throat as you used all the brainpower you had to swallow around him, trying not to pass out from the lack of air.

Roughly pulling your hair back by one of his big hands, the other coming down to stroke his hand quickly over his cock, the last of his seed being pained all over your pretty face.

The black dots in your vision started fading as you gulped air greedily into your lungs, sticking your tongue out instinctly while his hot cum landed in long streaks all over it.

“fuuuuuuuck” toji almost whined, cock still in hand as he flopped back down into the cushions. “think i almost died,” he said softly, chest heaving up and down like he just ran a marathon.

Sweat was beating off his face, face flushed red and eyes lidded as his soul slowly but surely came back into his body, you rested your head against his thigh as he stroked the side of your face.

Toji leaned down, scooping you up under your arms and placing you in his lap, cradling you against his hard chest as the two of you caught your breath, “think i’m addicted to ur mouth,” his voice resonating through his chest vibrating through your body when he spoke.

“Think my mouth is addicted to your cock,” your horse voice retaliated, making him wince in remorse, “fuck” he laughed, “you sound awful, promise i’ll make you some tea for your throat later” he promised, caressing the back of your head.

“later?” you asked, curious as to why he doesn’t go make a cup now as it only take a couple minutes, “gotta eat ur pussy out to show u how much I loved what ya’ did for me first.” he said, like it was obvious. “But i guess if ya’ want I can make you tea first.” he half joked.

You pulled back from his chest, grabbing his shirt and pulling him back onto the couch cushions with you, his huge frame swallowing yours, “tea can wait.” you smiled.

5K notes · View notes

pearlymel · 4 months ago

Text

The last time when...

Synopsis : you're an assassin. Your next mission? Get rid of your husband.

Warnings : Sylus × gn! reader, angst angst, death, miscommunication, blood, 1.6k wc.

Notes : if this broke your heart a lil bit, then i will make an apology letter by making a part 2 where they're all a happy family and alive 😓

When was the last time you looked at your husband and thought; how crazy must you have been to be with this as equally crazy man?

Or when was the last time he looked at you and thought; how lucky he was that you were able to tolerate him, to marry him, even.

He knew. And you thought you were able to hide your true occupation just well.

He seemed calm right in front of you while your hands were shaking.

He.. was the target?

Let's take this back to yesterday.

You were pushing your motorbike to its limits as you tore down the dark, winding roads, the sound of gunfire ringing out behind you. Bullets whizzed past you, narrowly missing their mark as you expertly maneuvered the motorcycle to avoid getting hit.

Your heart pounded in your chest as adrenaline rushed through your veins. You could hear the shouts and curses of your pursuers, their voices full of anger and frustration.

Despite the danger and the high-speed chase, you manage to keep your composure and reach for the gun holstered at your waist. With a quick and practiced motion, you whip it out and aim it behind you, training it on your pursuers.

Bullets continue to fly in your direction, but you return fire, hoping to buy yourself some time and discourage them from closing in on you.

You safely escaped, for now.

You were either going to get killed by them or by Sylus if he finds out you put yourself recklessly into danger.

Let alone burrowing his motorbike for this mission.

Stupid organisation, you mutter to yourself as you kick your boots off, the snowy weather certainly wasn't helping with your thoughts either.

You had hoped to leave your old life behind, especially after marrying Sylus. But that was a year ago, and the phone call from your old organization has shattered that illusion of peace. These assholes.

They had one more job for you, a job they think no one can ever successed in, unless it was you.

They didn't even tell you who your target is. Just simply send in you the location instead.

As you push open the door to your shared bedroom, your heart sinks when you see that Sylus is still awake. His eyes are fixed on you, and judging by the expression on his face, he is far from pleased.

His arms are crossed in front of his chest, a stern frown creasing his forehead as he regards you silently, waiting for an explanation.

“i was visiting a friend,” you explain, your grip of steel around the doorknob.

Sylus doesn't seem convinced by your flimsy story. He continues to stare at you, "Visiting a friend," he repeats, sarcastically.

“Mephisto says otherwise.”

That damned crow.

“I'd like it if you stopped stalking me.” You say bitterly. And it's true, his eyes seem to be everywhere, anywhere.

That's why you made sure to quit being an assassin before getting together with him. You wanted a happy, peaceful life as well.

“You're saying it like I'm some sort of creep or stranger.” he drawled, stepping closer to look down at you, and his crimson eyes seem to shine brighter in the dark as he lifts your chin up.

“I'm your husband, i have the right to know why my partner is late.” he squinted his eyes at you before letting go off your chin to turn away.

“Get some rest.” Sylus retreated back to bed. You both didn't speak a word that night, both of your backs facing the other, and you think the weather might have become colder.

—

They have threatened to hurt the people you love most if you don't do this one last mission.

You still feel upset that you didn't clear things up with Sylus last night, you hate fighting with him, but if it has to come down to this, then you'd rather protect him.

You made sure no one would follow you this time, not even Mephisto.

Let's say you did some adjustments on him.

Sorry lil guy.

It's probably not clever to leave your trail of footsteps behind on this particularly heavy snowy day, but they said your target would be here. Right at this time. And this place.

What an odd feeling.

Your body goes taut as you suddenly hear the sound of snow being crushed underfoot. It's a familiar sound that immediately puts you on alert. In a flash, you turn around, your gun gripped tightly and ready to fire.

Sylus.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you recognize the figure emerging from the falling snow.

Shock flood through you, your body instinctively relaxing a fraction as you lower your gun, "Sylus," you exhale breathlessly, the tension in your muscles melting away momentarily.

He observed you with a gaze that felt like it cut deep into your very core. There was no anger in his eyes, no hatred, no rage. Just a quiet resignation. “It's strange,” he says, his voice low, “fate bringing us here like this.”

He wasn't armed. He most likely knew.

Wait, he's.. the target?

He noticed your reaction, but there was no flicker of fear in his eyes. Despite your step back, he continued his approach, slowly and deliberately. His eyes never left you, yet there was not a threat in them, just...resignation...understanding?

Sylus was close, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, so warm in the cold, he reached out and gently brushed the hair that had plastered itself to your face, to reveal your expression of fear.

“step… back.”

“and why should i do that?”

“I'll shoot,” the words slip from your tongue quicker than you could stop yourself from saying it.

He simply lifted one eyebrow at the sight of the gun now pointed at his chest, unperturbed. “Is that how you greet your husband dearest?” he asks, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth with his head tilted slightly to the side.

He was so infuriatingly calm, like there was nothing to worry about.

His smile only widened, and he lifted his hand to rest it on the gun, his fingers gently tracing the barrel, bringing it closer to him, and you gasp, “but don’t you know how much I love getting under your skin, sweetie?”

“Don't—!” you drawed your hand back when his fingertips played dangerously near the trigger, sending your heart to almost stop. You step back again.

He knew you wouldn’t shoot.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said, his voice dropping the smooth façade once you aim the gun at yourself.

“Put that down, now.” he stepped closer to you, your warnings going through deaf ears before he became impatient, resolving this by using his evol, the energy manipulation red and black strands wrapping around your hand and taking the weapon away from your hold to throw it to the side.

Well, you were certainly no match for him.

“I can explain.” You sounded defeated, a fool. You knew you were going to face the consequences if you don't do something now. “I'm really sorry.”

“do that when we get home—”

Sylusd didn't get to finish what he was about to say, and he didn't freeze either when he heard the familiar sounds of gunshots going off.

Gunshots. Aimed directly at you.

He had no time to look around at the source of danger, everything felt like it wad going in slow motion when be was reaching his arm, his body out to protect you and shield you.

Only to find you on your knees in a blink of an eye, your body limp and falling into the pile of snow.

Sylus shouted your name in fear as he knelt beside you, gathering you gently in his arms, his voice a strangled gasp. He held you close, his eyes wild while his hands palpated your body, searching for the wound.

Two gunshots. Shot right through your chest and stomach.

No, no, no.

Sylus has never felt more scared than he was right now, with your crimson blood seeping quickly, melting down with the snow, even when he was taking off his coat and shirt, all to apply pressure on your wound.

He clutched you, his hands trembling, “stay with me," he pleaded, his voice hoarse. "Please, please stay with me.” His mind raced, frantically thinking of what to do, of why the blood wouldn't stop running down, your eyes so tired and almost dull, oh how he felt so helpless right now.

He clenched his jaw, the unfamiliar tears starting to gather around his eyes.

“You’re not quitting on me,” he muttered, the anger in him rising. “You don’t get to quit on me, damn it. You’re not dying on me. Not today, not anytime soon.”

“So—sorry..”

Your last breath. Sylus’ world came shattering down as your eyes lost their light and your body went still in his arms. There was no breath left, no pulse, just deafening silence and the harsh wind.

Your last words were an apology. Not an ‘i love you’ nor ‘take care’.

He refused to believe it. He refused to accept that you were gone, that your lips would never say his name again, that your hands would never touch his skin again.

”Don’t leave me.”

…

“please?”

…

“Are you really.. going to leave me to be alone again? ”

Sylus only remembers seeing red and white that day. The prettiest angel resting in his arms with their precious blood mixed with the cold embrace of the snow.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace angst #sylus angst

775 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 1 month ago

Note

I feel like each of the 141 has a difference preference when dicking down their mate.

Kyle prefers to stay human, it lets him really get a good show while fucking into the pretty thing he managed to take home. Seeing how your skin contrasts to his softly colored sheets is more reassuring to him that you're his than any scenting could be. Also, he's a lighter sleeper as a human, letting him keep you in his bed if you try to slip out while he's asleep.

Price likes the little hint of other, as a sign of his age and experience. He's the only one of the 141 who can shift only a few senses instead of having to start properly shifting. Let's him memorize your scent while fucking you, all so he can let you have the illusion of choice by letting you go and "finding" you again later. Eventually, he'll make it seem like a bit of fate and offer you out on a date.

Ghost partially shifts, and that's the most he can hold himself back when it comes to you. Claws and teeth come out, drool dripping from his maw to your skin. He needs to taste you, to make sure you taste the same. Taste like his.

Soap is a dog and he will fuck you in full transformation because of it. This man needs you on the most primal level, so why not just fuck you at his most primal. It also gives him a better nose to smell your sweat soaked skin, a longer tongue to shove into you, better hearing to catch each and every whimper you make. He needs to consume you and the best way to do that is with his wolf.

At least, that's my thought.

As usual how does it feel to be so fucking right?

Gaz absolutely prefers fucking you as a human, it feels too much like taking advantage of you when he has his semi-transformed strength and the idea of fucking you fully wolf makes him itch a little. He's so worried about damaging you with his claws and fangs :( his poor human mate, he doesn't want to ruin you. We'll, not like that at least. That won't stop him from knotting you, that's a luxury he can't afford not to indulge in. He loves the way you squirm and complain about the stretch, shushing you with soft coos, promising it'll be over soon, even when he knows it'll be a good 20 minutes at least.

Price is old hat at transformations and after years of growing and shrinking it's worn on his joints, if he doesn't have to transform he won't. He'll indulge in the sensed his wolf-form lends him, pressing his nose to your pulse and getting himself drunk on your scent. His eyes are always dark, animalistic, when he drags his flat tongue against your sex, and you worry that the teeth he's hiding might bite too hard, but he hasn't hurt you yet. And the only scare he gives you is when he presses his hand against your come filled stomach talking about pups.

Ghost simply lacks self control around you. The man has the control of a saint, but once he gets drunk on the scent of your arousal it's over for him. He grips you with heavy clawed hands, his skin splitting with fur and his nose starting to lengthen, and it scares you a little. His breathing is uneven, but his hips don't stop moving even when his bones start to break and his joints begin to pop. His drool dripping onto you is the only indication you get before he's sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You'll have to take wolfsbane in the morning if you don't want to end up going through the same pain.

Soap though... Soap fucks you like a dog, literally. He'll hunt you down on a full moon and hold you down with big paws, murmuring canned tones from his open maw about how he can't stop himself. He's all instinct, all panting and howling as he mounts you and ruts his cock against your sex, uncaring what hole he fucks himself into as long as it's yours. He'll lay directly on top of you once he's knotted you too, licking your face in apology but you know he doesn't mean it because he keeps asking for another round.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #captain john price #captain price x reader #werewolf au #tf 141 x reader #oh wait i forgot i actually have fucked up body horror werewolf headcanons

513 notes · View notes

luveline · 9 months ago

Note

you can ignore me for the rest of time and I will still dutifully show up to read your work every day ~ can I request some angsty bombshell x spencer? maybe their first actual fight and spence snaps at her so bombshell r crying and locks herself in their room and he apologizes through the door but still sleeps on the couch and she comes and snuggles in the middle of the night and forgives him bc she can’t sleep? this is so self indulgent pls feel free to change anything you want love you jade

thank u for requesting! —spencer makes you cry. fem, 1k

Spencer can’t stand hearing you cry. He can’t believe he’s the one who caused it —he didn’t mean to, he just got so annoyed at you, everything’s difficult lately now you’ve moved in together permanently because you practically living at his apartment is apparently not the same as truly living with one another.

He knows neither of you are unhappy living together, but you haven’t fought before, not like this. He stands just outside the bedroom door where you’ve sequestered yourself, ashamed of making you this upset. He doesn’t let himself in. “Y/N?”

“Go away, Spencer,” you say. To your credit, you try to sound calmer than you are.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Please don’t cry.”

“Spencer,” you say, a line of anger darkening your words, “leave me alone.”

He shouldn’t have said you were being lazy. You aren’t lazy, you’re tired. Moving in together has been really hard on you, even if you won’t admit it, or show it externally. He just wanted to say something mean, because you’d said you allowed him to have that ugly armchair in the living room and he got mad —it’s not ugly, and he wasn’t allowed, he’s a grown man.

He just can’t feel angry about it anymore hearing your sad sniffling. He said something too mean, he took it too far, and maybe he was ‘allowed’. Moving in together is about compromise, and you’d compromised, and he’s punishing you for it.

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to make you cry, I– I was being mean and you didn’t deserve that. I’ll be out here if you… if you wanna talk to me,” he says, turning to leave with his head held low.

He waits all night for you to come out, if it were just to drink some water or use the bathroom, but after a few minutes he can’t hear you crying, and you don’t make any sounds. He thinks he might hear you moving the sheets aside some time toward 10PM, but there’s nothing after that. He falls asleep on the couch, sulking, wishing he hadn’t been such an idiot.

You let yourself out of your shared bedroom in the middle of the night. The sheets don’t smell enough like him, and you want to hold his hand, and you want to know he’s really not mad at you. That he doesn’t really think you’re lazy.

Quiet, you walk downstairs and into the living room, where Spencer sleeps stretched out on the couch. It’s a big couch, meant for soft sitting, wide enough that, were you to set a baby down, they couldn’t roll off accidentally. Spencer’s on his side with his arm curled around one of the bigger pillows, brown strands of hair falling into his face.

He’s not a deep sleeper, but you can’t say you’re scared to wake him. You pull the pillow from his arms and sit on the couch beside him, working your way into his side, and encouraging his arm over yours. Gentle, you brush the mess of his hair from his eyes. He doesn’t even have a blanket.

You hold his sleeping face in your hands. His eyes twitch and scrunch tighter at your touching, worried, but you give a gentle, “Shh,” and he relaxes. His eyes smooth, then open, lashes struggling apart, the brown of his eyes dark as a roasted chestnut.

He whispers your name, tongue heavy with sleep.

“Mm,” you reply, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You press your face to his neck, letting yourself deflate as you wait for his arms to lock you in. It can’t be five seconds before he’s curling his arms around you carefully, kissing your hairline, the first bit of skin he can reach at this angle. He’s not quite awake yet, you know, can tell from countless times sleeping in his bed. If he were to fall back to sleep, he wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper.

“Oh,” he says, with all the tenderness of a pet name, dripping, palpable adoring, “want tea?”

“Want you.”

He strokes your shoulder. You’re the one being hugged, really, but Spencer’s grip gets so tight you worry he needs one. You wrap your arms behind him, close your eyes tight to stop from getting teary.

“I don’t like fighting,” you say.

“M’sorry.”

“Do you want to kiss and make up?”

He stills. “You’re not mad?”

“You really upset me, Spence. N’ I bet you know that n’ feel bad enough already,” you mumble.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was being childish.”

You forgive him. Everybody’s allowed to be mean every once in a while. You’d been arguing, and you can feel now that he regrets it, his hands apprehensive but somehow loving still as they touch your back through the thin fabric of a t-shirt he’d bought you. The front has a silly graphic on it, some equation that spells out love.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m not mad. I can’t sleep when you’re not next to me, so… Let’s not fight again.”

“I don’t like it when you cry.”

You shake your head gently, slotting yourself into all his nooks and crevices. Your legs tangled, the couch is an ample bed for two people trying to be as close to each other as humanly possible. You don’t like crying either, not over Spencer, not thinking he doesn’t see you in the light you’d thought he did.

“Do you really think I’m lazy?” you ask.

“No, I was being awful,” he says, sounding deeply repentant.

Well, there’s no need to punish him, you decide, not when he’s beating himself up already. You cup the back of his head to tap your foreheads together, any aches and pains of the bed disappearing in the eye of his softness. He’s gaining confidence now you’ve touched his hair, his hands travelling low to the small of your back, your face once again pushed into the curve of his neck, where you stay.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

roosterr · 1 year ago

Note

Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol

the 141 when you have amnesia – p2

note: i have received your therapy bills :)

wc: 5.2k

warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise

ao3

[part one]

price

✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.

✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.

✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.

✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.

✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.

✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.

✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.

✹ the base is dull without you.

✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.

✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.

✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.

✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.

✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.

✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.

✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.

✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.

✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.

✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"

✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.

✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.

✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.

✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.

✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.

✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.

✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.

✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.

✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.

✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.

✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,

✹ "i remember you now."

✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.

✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.

✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.

✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.

✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."

✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"

gaz

✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.

✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.

✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.

✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.

✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.

✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.

✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.

✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.

✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?

✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.

✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.

✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.

✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.

✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines.

✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.

✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.

✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.

✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.

✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.

✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.

✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.

✹ "i'm not really paying attention."

✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.

✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."

✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"

✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.

✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.

✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.

✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.

✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"

✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"

✹ "just piss off, you prick!"

✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.

✹ "what's wrong? are you–"

✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.

✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.

✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.

✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,

✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"

✹ "you read my mind."

soap

✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.

✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.

✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.

✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.

✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.

✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.

✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.

✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.

✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.

✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.

✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"

✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"

✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"

✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"

✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.

✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.

✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.

✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.

✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.

✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.

✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.

✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.

✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."

✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"

✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"

✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."

✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.

✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.

✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.

✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.

✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.

✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.

✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.

✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.

✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."

✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."

✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.

✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.

✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"

✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.

✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.

✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.

✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.

✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.

✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"

✹ "i'll never forget you again."

ghost

✹ he avoids you like the plague.

✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.

✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.

✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.

✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.

✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.

✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.

✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.

✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"

✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.

✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"

✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.

✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."

✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.

✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.

✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.

✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.

✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.

✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.

✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.

✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.

✹ "i remember, si."

✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.

✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.

✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.

✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"

✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."

4K notes · View notes

sleepyparalysisdmon · 2 months ago

Text

Love, Money, Fame

The three times that Seungcheol tries to show you he cares, and the one time you finally let him.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and poor mental heatlh. A tiny bit of angst.

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

Seungcheol likes you. He’s liked you since he laid eyes on you. Admittedly, one of the things he likes most right off the bat is that you’re on the shy side. He thinks it’s cute that you flush bright red at the tiniest bit of attention. And heaven forbid he lightly touch you or flirt with you. He’s actually incredibly surprised when you agree to go out with him and he swears he’ll be on his best behavior for it.

The first sign is actually when he’s walking you home from the first date. He puts you on the inside of the sidewalk so he can walk along the street edge and casually reaches for your hand. It’s sweaty and you apologize for it. He smiles kindly. “Do I make you that nervous?” It might sound like a tease, but he really hopes your answer is no and there’s another reason for it.

You can’t quite meet his eyes but he’s relieved that you don’t pull your hand away from his. The last thing he wants to do is embarrass you. “Maybe. The whole concept of dating does, to be honest.”

He hums. “Haven’t dated much?” He hopes you don’t take the question as a jab, because it’s not. He just wants to know where you’re at so he can meet you there.

However, you shrug. “I wouldn’t say that… I’ve just been burned pretty badly before. The idea of starting over is kind of intimidating.”

He loves that you can be honest with him despite your shyness. He squeezes your hand lightly. “It’s your pace, Y/N. I’m not in a hurry.”

You glance up at him and give him a shy smile and squeeze his hand back lightly. The two of you fall into conversation again as he walks you home, but once you’re safely inside your apartment, his mind wanders to what exactly you meant by being burnt badly before. It kind of makes him heat with anger. You’re so sweet. How dare someone mistreat you or take advantage of your love?

Later, while staring up at a dark ceiling, he resolves to make sure he doesn’t burn you too.

Two

He brings you to a house party. Things are going really well between you it seems. You’re still shy, but there are moments that you seem to warm up to him over the last couple months. This is one of those warm moments. You’re leaning into his side while standing in the kitchen and talking to a couple of his friends. He’s kind of touched that despite your nervousness about meeting new people you’re braving through it next to him, and because of him, because he asked you to accompany him. He gently rubs your back as you stumble over the words you’re trying to get out.

He’s also relieved that Jeonghan bites back the grin at your little stumble. He’s already warned all of them that you’re pretty shy and he doesn’t want to have to hit his friend for embarrassing you.

You’re mid sentence when there’s a loud sound that echoes through the kitchen. Someone’s popped a balloon. He feels you tense against his hand and glances down at you. You don’t look nervous. You look scared, every muscle in your body tensed and tears pricking your eyes. Instincts take over because he absolutely does not like this look on you. “Come on. Let’s step outside.”

Your feet are planted and he has to nudge you a few times to get you to move. By the time he slides the back door open and you step out into the night air, your breathing is a little jagged. He does his best to be gentle, because he doesn’t want to startle you anymore. “Talk to me, Y/N. How can I help?”

“I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” There’s something mean about your expression all of the sudden and it takes him by surprise. He really tries not to take it personally, especially when you back up to keep him at arms length. You pace for a second and he lets you. When you stop and place your hands over your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.” Something inside him plummets at the crack in your voice.

Cautiously, he steps forward, placing a hand on your back. “It’s fine. You were startled, I get it. Does that happen often for you?”

You nod and he thinks you look a little numb now. He hates it. “Why don’t we sit out here for a while? We can stick our feet in the pool.”

Your eyes light up a little at the offer and he feels kind of proud when you lead him to the side of the pool and start peeling your shoes and socks off. You seem to do a 180 when your feet hit the warm water, the tension leaking from your shoulders.

He loses track of time there by the pool while he talks to you. He decides he’ll ask you if you really want to go to something like this next time. Maybe this isn’t the best environment for you.

Three

Seungcheol is at dinner with you and some of your friends. He agreed immediately when you asked because you’ve already met many of his friends and he thinks it’s important to show the same courtesy. Your friends are nice. A little protective perhaps, but that’s something he can appreciate.

They ask him more about what he does for a living - the long nights, the traveling, the working with other idols. He feels like he has an answer for all of this. He loves his job, but it is ultimately just a job and won’t last forever. This seems to be acceptable.

They ask him what his intentions are with you. Again, a valid and totally expected question. He has an answer for this too. He’d like this to be long term and he really has a soft spot for you. He watches you flush from across the table and grins. He seems to pass this part of the test with flying colors.

Then they ask how he intends to protect your privacy given what he does for a living. He knows this is a trick question. Either your relationship is out and your privacy is gone, or you’re like a dirty secret. He’s always hated the catch-22 of dating in the profession he’s in, because it will always be anything but normal. But the only reasonable answer is kind of a cop out. He’d follow your lead on it. If you want the relationship to be out, then it will be and he’ll be proud of it. If you want privacy, he’ll do everything he can to preserve it. Your friends seem to recognize it for the cop out that it is but don’t say anything else about the topic.

Then the threats begin. If he makes you cry, if he mistreats you or cheats on you or lays a hand on you, they’ll be coming after him. He almost laughs and starts to brush it off, but the whole vibe at the table has changed. They’re deadly serious and you’re squirming in your seat, picking at your food.

“I won’t be doing any of that, but if I ever do, I’ll deserve whatever you guys have planned.”

He means it and he hopes you can hear it in his voice. He doesn’t need to know your history to know he doesn’t want to repeat any of it.

Four

You’ve dropped off the face of the earth. At first he thinks you both have just been busy. But when he gets a couple days off and reaches out to you, his texts and calls go unanswered. He starts to panic as the hours tick by. Has he done something wrong? Are you okay?

He’s impatient and worried, so he stops by your apartment with dinner as a peace offering just in case he really has done something wrong. It takes a long time for you to come to the door and when you do his heart drops. “Baby, what’s wrong?” The food is unceremoniously dropped onto the entry table and he’s cupping your face. You look like you haven’t slept much recently and your face looks thinner like you haven’t eaten much lately.

“Seungcheol, what are you doing here?” You look surprised to see him.

“I hadn’t heard from you lately and I was getting kind of worried.”

You give him the same look you did by the pool a while back. Despite the red in your eyes, you look a little angry at the intrusion. “Well, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“Fine, huh?” Seungcheol grinds his teeth. You nod. “Don’t make me do this the hard way, Y/N.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about getting you to open up a little bit. I’m here to help and I will not hesitate to throw you over my shoulder and make sure you’re taking care of yourself.” Seungcheol’s words bite more than he meant them to, but he’s frustrated. You disappear for nearly a week and this is the condition you’re in when he finally sees you?

“Have you always been this pushy?” You scoff.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Have it your way.”

You let out a little cry when he scoops you up, tossing you over his shoulder just as promised. With a free hand, he grabs the bag of food. In the kitchen, he carefully places you on a stool. “I had no clue you were such a brat,” he chuckles with the tiniest bit of humor as he unpacks the bag of food, placing a few items in front of you. You have your arms crossed, glaring at him, but he smirks. “Now do I have to feed you? I will.”

“We should break up.”

His eyes narrow at the threat. “We’ll talk about that after you eat. Now what will it be?”

You huff, peeling off the lid of the take out container, refusing to look at him. The dish isn’t even a quarter of the way empty before he’s abandoning his own food to stand and wrap his arms around you. You realize you’re crying. He doesn’t say anything, just holding you against him, placing a light kiss on the top of your head. It makes you crack open.

“I’m sorry. It seems like I have to keep apologizing,” you sniffle.

“I guess it depends on what you’re sorry for,” he mumbles.

“Being mean. Ghosting you like that. It’s just been a bad week.”

“Just talk to me, baby. I want to help.” He wipes your tears, sitting on the stool next to you. “You don’t have to tell me everything until you’re ready. But tell me how I can help when you’re like this.” He picks up your chopsticks, reaching for a bite of chicken to feed you. You push it away with a chuckle.

“Are you sure you don’t want to break up with me?” You ask nervously. You didn’t mean anything by the threat earlier and you hope he didn’t take it seriously.

“I’m sure.” He says it so solidly that there’s little room for doubt. He kisses your cheek for good measure. “Now, come on. You need to eat more.” You don’t fight him this time when he picks up the chopsticks again. There’s something warm in your chest at the way he takes care of you and you aren’t sure why you resisted for so long.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #scoups

440 notes · View notes