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#all things you can enjoy in the full fic :D
anyasathenaeum · 7 hours
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Hello! I feel like I might have already requested this before your ask box was wiped, but how about a virgin!Knives x Reader smutfic?? I love how you characterized him as shy and flustered over the idea of sex in that one crackfic you wrote 😵 I hope you have a great day and life is treating you well!! You're one of my favorite writers regardless of what you write :D
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A/N: Hey anon! Yes, I remember this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to it, but here it is! This is my first (serious) attempt at smut with Knives, so uhhhhhhhhh please don't come for me, I tried my best. I've decided to start with some headcanons followed by the fic itself, apologies - it's long. Also, anon - thank you SO much for your comment, you're super sweet and I'm sorry I took so long to get to this. All the best! Warnings: MINORS DNI, Virgin!Knives, AFAB!reader (female terminology is used), hinting towards plants having "heats", a touch of yandere-ish behaviour (it's Knives, so not entirely surprising) penetrative sex, P in V sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), reader is submissive in this one, rough sex, marking, a little bit of a breeding kink, Knives being a Loser™, he's kinda in love with you but the fucker definitely refuses to admit it, name-calling (Knives calls reader things like "slut" and such) Word Count: 3.3k
Virgin!Knives is definitely not nearly as confident and as ruthless as he is in all other points of his life - he might seem like he knows what he's doing, but deep down? Man is SHY, but he'd rather die than have anybody realize that
Seriously, you won't ever hear him talking about sex, and he doesn't even use the word if he can afford to outside of the bedroom
When it comes to his first time, he likes to make it seem like he's in charge and like he fucks all the time, but he's literally just a hair breadth away from cumming the moment you touch him for the first time.
Would absolutely make you ride him (mostly because he has no idea what he's doing), but he plays it off with cool indifference and because he "just wants you to please him".
He tries to make up for it, trying to be more forceful or rough with his thrusts, talking dirty to you and calling you names, but it's a double-edged sword because the moment you're crying out his name and squeezing around him, he sees stars and cums WAY too soon.
Basically, Virgin!Knives is a mess and wants to seem like he's still in charge in bed, but with a few thrusts of your own, driving him deeper and deeper into you, you'd have him falling apart beneath you in moments.
But, of course, because he's not human, his stamina is INSANE and the moment he cums for the first time inside you, it unhinges him (do I sense a breeding kink???) and suddenly he's chasing orgasm after orgasm using you, and you're definitely not gonna be leaving his bed for the next few days.
Full fic below! Enjoy!
"Are you sure this is what you want, Master Knives?"
The question slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. You just couldn't believe what you were hearing.
Millions Knives, the independent plant who you'd been working for for years, had had you brought to his chambers in the middle of the night so that he could ask you something important.
"Are you questioning me, pet?"
The way Knives glared at you, his gaze cold and calculated, made shivers course down your spine, and you quickly bowed your head.
"No, Master Knives. Not at all. I was merely surprised by your request. I apologize."
Knives simply raised his eyebrow as he continued to gaze at you, taking in your form as you stood before him. You'd initially been just some filthy human he was forced to keep around due to your utility and your skills, but over time, as much as Knives refused to admit to it, you'd grown on him. You were one of the more intelligent of your species, it seemed, and one that seemed to know its place whenever you spoke to him. But, in the end, you were still just a lowly, miserable human, part of the plague that threatened Plants across the planet.
So... why?
Why did Knives feel this... pull towards you? Why did he have to fight the urge to be near you each and every time he spotted you, the urge to tuck you against him with his wing and whisk you away, out of sight and out of reach of all others? Why did he feel rage boiling up within him whenever you smiled or laughed at something somebody else had said? A fair share of other henchmen had lost lives and limbs just for speaking to you (not that you knew that, of course - they just conveniently "disappeared" during a mission).
Beyond just those moments, Knives had also noticed... other things. A warmth that seemed to bloom from whatever part of him had brushed your skin, spreading through the rest of his body until it became full blown heat. This heat was unbearable to resist and made him feel as though it were burning him alive from the inside out, unquenchable even when he took matters into his own hands time and time again.
Knives wasn't a fool. He knew of the lust and the need to reproduce that his kind often felt, but he'd never experienced it himself ever before. Not until you showed up. But, you were part of the very thing Knives had sworn to destroy, so why did his body call to you in this way? Why did his body betray him so? What was it about you that made him feel this way?
"You heard me, (Y/N)," Knives spoke slowly and quietly, his gaze not leaving you for a moment as he lounged on his bed, "I wish for you to stay the night."
"Yes, Master Knives."
"You will not speak of this to anybody," he continued, his voice scarily level, "Or I shall ensure you are permanently silenced."
You simply bowed your head again, your heart pounding frantically in your chest.
You had always had an interest in Knives - asides from being somebody who was hired to work from him, you found him a truly interesting being. An independent plant, more beautiful than any living creature you'd ever seen before, hellbent on exterminating the human race to save his sister plants and trying to find his twin brother, another independent plant. He was always transparent of his end goal, and despite it all, you had still agreed to work for him. After all, humanity was a mess and it wasn't going to get any better - you'd seen proof of that time and time again throughout your life.
So, here you were - working tirelessly so he could achieve his goal.
Although, you hadn't expected to be summoned to Knives's chambers so late in the night, and you certainly hadn't anticipated him to wish for you to stay the night. You'd been summoned to his chambers several times in the past, sometimes for work purposes, other times simply on a whim, and you weren't ignorant of the way you felt around Knives.
His presence made you feel simultaneously safe and on edge, as if something was always just about to occur. As though there were always words hanging in the air between you two, just waiting to be spoken but never truly acknowledged.
Despite his reputation of being unforgiving and ruthless, you'd never been on the receiving end of that side of him, somehow. He could be harsh and sharp with his words and his actions, but he'd never caused you any true harm. You couldn't ignore the way your skin felt as though electricity coursed through it whenever Knives accidentally brushed against you, or the way the heat rose to your cheeks whenever you found him watching you intently. He never looked away immediately whenever you caught him staring at you, simply maintaining his gaze and ensuring to keep eye contact with you for a couple moments before looking away almost lazily, as if he'd grown bored of you. But the fact that he did it so often... could it mean?...
You didn't dare let yourself hope. It couldn't possibly mean anything. After all, you were just a human. Unworthy of him in every possible way.
And yet, here you were, summoned to his chambers in the middle of the night and told you were to stay with him overnight. Your mind was in overdrive, trying to figure out what this meant.
"W-Where am I to sleep, Master Knives?" You inquired softly, not daring to look up at him.
Knives would've scoffed and laughed had it been any other person standing before him, but this was you. His pet, of sorts. And as much as he refused to accept it, you softened him. You weakened him.
"We'll address that later, pet. Come here."
Before you could process everything, you found yourself approaching Knives's bed, stopping right before it and waiting for his commands, not wanting to overstep.
"Did I not make myself clear? Here, pet," Knives all but hissed, making it clear he wanted you right on the bed next to him.
Blushing slightly, you quickly followed his demand, crawling into his bed so you were right by his side. You could feel his gaze on you, and you risked a glimpse at his face - his expression was surprisingly calm, almost curious as he studied you as you sat there next to him on his bed.
"Don't move," Knives whispered quietly, bringing his hand up to your face.
Immediately, you froze, almost afraid to breathe.
"So obedient," you heard Knives chuckle, clearly amused, "What a good pet I have."
Without further comments, you felt Knives's fingers beginning to trace over your skin, skimming lightly over your cheeks and making his way over the bridge of your nose, then down over your lips. His touch was surprisingly gentle, more gentle than you ever thought him capable, but you remained silent as he continued his barely-there touches.
You struggled to ignore the beating of your heart and the roaring of your blood in your ears, your whole body feeling like a livewire. You had to remind yourself not to let your mind wander and make your hidden desires obvious, but something in the way Knives was watching you made you believe that he already knew of your hidden desires. You felt your face heating up even worse than before as you looked away from Knives, suddenly finding the threading of the bedding very interesting.
"I don't understand you."
Knives's sudden voice startled you, making you jump slightly as you sat there next to him. However, you remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
"Look at me, (Y/N)."
Slowly, you brought your gaze up to look at Knives, trying not to let your heart beat straight out of your chest as you did so. His icy blue gaze was steady as it trained on your face, still studying you even intently.
"What do you not understand about me?" You asked quietly, steeling yourself as you held Knives's gaze.
After a couple moments, Knives replied quietly, "I don't understand what it is about you that makes my body feel this way. How you, a mere human... are the only one who has the ability to set my soul and my body aflame. I get no rest because of you."
You felt your heart stop for a moment before it began to thunder violently in your chest, your eyes widening in surprise. There was no way that he meant what you thought he meant.
"Master Knives, I-"
"Nai."
You looked at him curiously, and Knives simply continued, "In here, I'm not Master Knives. My name is Nai. You use my name, here and only here."
"Yes, Nai," you replied softly, testing out his name on your tongue.
"I think you know why I've summoned you to stay the night, now. Don't you, (Y/N)?"
You nodded, making Nai smirk slightly, "Clever pet."
Without a second of hesitation, you felt Nai's hand cup the back of your neck, pulling you down against him and slotting his lips to yours in a passionate, lustful kiss.
You let out a small, muffled yelp as you fell forward onto him, your lips pressing against his and your eyes wide in surprise. His taste was surprisingly bright, and you found yourself melting into the kiss, eyes closing and matching his passion in the kiss within moments. You felt Nai's hands burying themselves into your hair as he pulled you on top of him, holding you close to him as he continued to kiss you lustfully, his desire for you overwhelming his typically-controlled self.
Despite the kiss being lustful and filled with desire, you found that Nai's kiss still felt as though he were holding something back. Was it simply due to him not being as invested as you believed him to be? Or was it for some other reason? Regardless, you found your hands coming up to cup Nai's face gently as you continued to kiss him, his hands resting firmly on your hips and holding you in place.
You could feel Nai's hands pressing your hips down hard against him, and underneath his robe and through your clothes, you could feel something hard rubbing against your core. A wanton moan escaped you as Nai continued to force you down onto him, getting you to grind on him as his hands guided your hips. You could feel your pussy beginning to soak through your panties, and your whole body shuddered as Nai pulled away from you, a string of spit connecting your lips together.
You watched as Nai's knives suddenly appeared from him, slowly approaching you. Your eyes widened in fear, and you tried to figure out what you'd done wrong, your whole body freezing and your blood turning to ice. However, the blades of the knives didn't touch your skin, instead the tentacles slowly working their way under your clothing, cutting piece by piece loose and letting the scraps of fabric fall from your body. The tentacles of knives glided across your skin almost tenderly, continuing their work diligently until you found yourself completely naked in Nai's bed, your clothing nothing more than strips of fabric now.
"Worry not, pet. You'll get new clothes," Nai spoke quietly, his eyes eagerly taking in your naked form.
Nai could feel himself getting riled up the moment he laid eyes on your bare skin, his cock hardening beneath his robe as he took in every part of you. You were beautiful, he supposed, for a human.
As he gazed at you, Nai couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like for him to finally take you, to stake him claim on you and to feel you around him for the first time. Of course, he'd never let you know that he'd never done any of this before, instead maintaining his façade of cool indifference and superiority, as if he'd done this so many times that it almost bored him.
Reaching out towards you, Nai pulled you back on top of him, his robe dissipating and allowing you to finally see him, his cock rock hard and throbbing, a glob of pre-cum leaking from the tip. You could see that the same plant markings that sprawled across the rest of his body were also on the shaft of his cock, as well as his tip. Just the sight of him, laid out before and below you like this and clearly wanting you, had your pussy dripping wet. You couldn't believe just how badly you wanted him inside you.
"Well? Go on, pet," Nai commanded, watching you carefully, "Please me."
"Yes, Nai."
You couldn't believe this was happening, but you found yourself feeling excited by the fact that you actually got the opportunity to sleep with Nai. As much as you wished that it could've been more than just sex, you were happy to have this, at the very least.
Slowly, you settled yourself in his lap, your hand wrapping gently around his cock and aligning him with your pussy, letting the tip just barely rest against your entrance. You were surprised to hear Nai hiss as soon as you took hold of him, feeling his body tense and feeling something warm and wet dribbling over your fingers.
"A-Are you okay?" You asked softly, looking at Nai with slight concern, hoping you hadn't hurt him or made him uncomfortable.
"Fine," Nai gritted out, "Don't question me. Remember your place, pet."
Then, suddenly, you felt Nai's hands tighten on your hips, grabbing onto you firmly before pushing you down onto his cock hard.
You let out a cry at the sudden stretch, your pussy stinging at the feeling of being split open so deeply for the first time in a long while, trying to adjust to the feeling of Nai inside you. With him sheathed inside you, you could feel just how big he was - even without moving, he was pressing against the most perfect spot inside you, pulling a whine from your lips.
"Quiet, slut," Nai growled, his hold on your hips bruising your skin as his fingers dug into your flesh.
What you didn't know was that Nai was struggling worse than you were at the moment - he'd never felt such warmth and tightness before, especially not around his cock, and he was trying so hard not to cum then and there. He hadn't expected you to feel so good around him, or for his body to be this sensitive.
However, as he held you against him, you let out a soft whine of pleasure and began to roll your hips desperately, pushing him just the slightest bit deeper into you. Nai's grip tightened on you, and he was about to growl out another command when his orgasm suddenly washed over him.
A choked "Fuck!" slipped from his lips as he involuntarily bucked his hips up into you, wanting nothing more than to bury himself into you even more than before as his seed coated your walls, painting them in white and claiming you as his in a way nobody ever really had before. You let out a moan and clutched onto Nai's shoulders as you felt the warmth spreading within your abdomen, and you couldn't help but continue to roll your hips as you chased your own release, wanting to feel more of Nai inside you.
"N-Nai, please," you whined, continuing to thrust your hips against him, "Want more... need more of you... please..."
Hearing you plead for him, for his cock, to give you pleasure made something in Nai snap.
In a flash, you found yourself laying back in the bed with Nai above you, his cock still buried inside you and still hard as ever. However, now, you could see a fire in his eyes as he gazed at you, his hand coming up and squeezing your breast. The mewl that came from you as Nai touched you made him feel more powerful than ever before, his instincts beginning to take over.
Leaning down and pressing his lips against yours hungrily, Nai began to thrust into you with urgency, his thrusts powerful and deep, pulling moan after moan from you as he continued to fuck you into his bed. He couldn't care less that this was his first time - nothing else mattered right now except for cumming inside you over and over again until you knew nothing but his name and that you belonged to him. He allowed his instincts to take over, the instinct to claim, to mate, to breed, to fill you up until it spilled from you endlessly.
"You're mine, slut. You hear me? Mine."
The growl that came from Nai made your whole body shiver, and the way he sunk his teeth into your neck and left a dark bruise to show that fact to the world made you scream out, partly from pain and partly from pleasure. You were his now, and nobody else would ever have you.
"Say it!" Nai commanded, thrusting into you harshly without stopping. "Say-" thrust "you-" thrust "are-" thrust "mine!".
"Y-Yours!" You cried out, feeling your own orgasm wash over you stronger than ever before as Nai continued to fuck you through it, "'M yours, Nai!"
"Mine!"
Nai slammed his cock into you one final time as he came yet again, filling you to the brim with cum once more. As he recovered from his orgasm, Nai continued to leave marks down your neck, your shoulders, your breasts, working his way down until he was ready to go again, wanting nothing more than to continue this until he could no longer stand it.
"Prepare yourself, (Y/N)," Nai growled into your ear, pulling your body against his hard, "You're to stay with me all night. And I'm nowhere near done."
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nanaslutt · 5 months
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imma need a part three to the orange fic....it's soooooo gooooood!
the highly demanded part 3~
pt. 1 & 2
contains: fem reader, teasing, dirty talkkk, oral, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, praise, pull out method, dry humping, teasing, talk of pregnancy, gojo has a breeding kink, spanking, rough sex, dacraphillia, squirting, soft at the end :3
MDNI
"I have so much to teach you." He grinned, caressing the side of your face as you closed your eyes, and leaned your face into his hand.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
“Come back here,” Gojo said, grinning when you leaned forward and allowed him to connect your lips once more, slowly slotting them against each other as he moaned at the taste of himself on your tongue.
Gojo wrapped his strong arms around your body and pulled you snugly against his chest, making your cunt sit directly against his cock as you made out with him. The man underneath you jolted in sensitivity at the unexpected warmth on his bare cock, making him twitch back to life.
“Awww,” he cooed, pulling back to look between you, “They’re kissing.” He giggled, watching your slick drip against his cunt. You bit your lip when you tipped your chin down to look at what he was referring to.
The sight was so erotic, your slick was dripping onto him, leaving a trail of your cum against his dick as you rocked back and forth on him while you made out. You pouted out your bottom lip as you kept your eyes between the two of you.
“C-can you teach me how to have sex too?” you asked, finding your voice. Gojo’s eyebrows shot up, a smirk slowly creeping on his face as an idea popped into his head. “Ohhh~ I don’t know, I’m kinda tired, I’ve already taught you enough for one day.. don’t you think?” he said dramatically, making your bottom lip pout out in disappointment.
"O-oh I just thought.." You started quietly, "You're so greedy for a newbie~" He teased, making you hide your face in his neck, while his big hand came up to caress your nape, jolting your body as he laughed, "Baby I was just kidding~ no need to get all shy on me," He cooed, sliding his large hands under your arms and making you sit up fully on his lap.
He intended to tease you for longer, but how cute you were acting combined with how fucking addicting your cunt felt pressed against his now stiff cock, prevented him from continuing his teasing. "So.. you'll show me how to have sex?" Your eyes beamed as you asked, voice full of hope.
"Of course, I could never say no to you~" The white-haired man admitted, his warm hands finding their home against your thighs once more as he rubbed soothing patterns into your skin. "But before you get ahead of yourself, I still have to teach you about the other kinds of foreplay~ can't have you getting hurt because we didn't prep your tight cunt properly." He explained, squeezing the fat of your thighs.
"Others kinds of forplay?" You asked, excited for what was to come. "Oh yeah, I still gotta show you what getting your pussy eaten feels like," He smirked, "If you want I can show you how to suck a cock too."
You swallowed hard, feeling yourself clench around nothing at the thought of Gojo performing something on you that you thought only happened in porn. "D-do you actually enjoy doing.." You gestured vaguely in front of you, referring to performing oral, "that..?" you finished meekly. "Why don't I show you how much I love it," Gojo answered, a smile spreading on his handsome face.
He gripped your hips in his large hands and raised you up, switching your spots, and placing you down on the bed so you were laying comfortably against his soft mattress. He situated himself between your thighs on his stomach and threw your legs over his shoulders. "I always hear guys complaining about this kind of thing.. are you sure you're not forcing yourself?" You asked insecurely, which made him scoff in disbelief.
"Now who's saying that? I could cum just from eating pussy alone." He exaggerated, making your worries wash away at his honest words. "Making you feel good makes me feel good." He continued, "You're a smart girl, you saw how hard I got from just fingering you, do you think my dick would lie to you? huuhh?" He questioned teasingly, making you cover his penetrating eyes with your hands as your face heated up. "O-okay you're right, it was a stupid question," you said, embarrassed.
"Mhmm," Gojo agreed, making eye contact with you once more when you dropped your hands from his face, holding them against your chest as you waited for him to do whatever he was going to do to you.
"Im gonna lick your pussy now, kay?" He said, starting to drop his head closer to your exposed core after you nodded at his words. "Good girl," He praised before you felt his teeth nip at your thigh, making you wince. He smoothed over the spot with his soft tongue, licking your skin and humming at your quiet wines.
He continued peppering teasing kisses on your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most before he was pulling away, dropping his attention back to your inner thighs, and leaving bite marks and little purple hickeys on your skin. "Toru.." You whimpered, not being able to take it anymore, you could feel your clit throb, and your juices drip down from your hole from the delay.
"What do you need baby?" He asked, playing coy, as he kept up his ministrations, maintaining eye contact with you with that piercing gaze of his. Was he really going to make you say it? You swallowed hard, biting and releasing your lip as you tried to muster up the courage to ask him to lick your pussy already. "Don't be embarrassed about asking for something during sex, sweet thing, how else is your partner gonna know what you want?" He smirked against your skin.
Logically you knew he was right, it made total sense, but it still didn't mean that you didn't have the right to be a little shy about it. "P-please eat me out Satoru." You mumbled, just barely loud enough for him to hear it, but boy did it ring oud and clear inside his head.
"Anything for you sweet girl," He grinned, finally giving you attention where you were craving it. He closed his eyes and flattened his tongue against your pussy as he slid the appendage across your folds slowly, back and forth. Your body curled in on itself, twitching when he made contact with you. Your body jolted harder every time his tongue slid across your sensitive bundle of nerves, applying just the right amount of pressure.
Gojo moaned at your taste and lewd reactions to his tongue. The man opened his eyes again to get a good look at you, your hands were gripping the sheets hard enough to rip at just a couple seconds of stimulation from his tongue, and your head was tipped back into the pillows, pretty mouth open in a small o shape while you squeezed your eyes shut, really feeling what he was giving you.
"If you need a place to put your hands, feel free to put them in my hair, pull as hard as you like~" He informed, giggling against your cunt when both your hands came down immediately to burry in his soft strands for support. His plush lips suckled against your clit, and he used his soft tongue to expertly dart against the little bundle to add extra stimulation. "F-fuck Satoru-" You wined at the intense feeling.
You already felt like you were going to cum from the way he was treating your pussy, "Satoru w-wait," You dug your nails against his scalp, getting a good grip on his hair before you pulled him off of you, his soaked tongue hung from his mouth, "I- I was gonna cum," You said breathlessly, trying and failing to squeeze your thighs together as they were kept apart by his shoulders.
"Ohh~ you like edging yourself? How did you know about that?" He teased, licking your juices off his lips. "Huh? Edging? No, I just.. you just started.." You blushed. "Aww, are you about to compliment my pussy eating skills? If you woulda let me finish I could've made a new record," He giggled to himself, feeling his chest swell with pride, "Under two minutes, phew!" He smirked, patting himself on the back.
"Oh my god shut up.." you rolled your eyes at the man between your legs, his silliness easing the tension in the air and giving you some confidence back, "It just felt good was all, I didn't want it to be over so soon." You explained, absentmindedly playing with his soft hair between your fingers. "Who said it has to be over when you cum once?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at you. "Ill keep fucking you with my tongue till you tell me to stop, cum as much as you'd like." He said like it was obvious, fully ready to be between your legs all day and night if that's what you wanted.
"So can I get back to eating your pussy now orrr?" He asked, poking his tongue against your inner thigh and tickling you with it. You opened your mouth to speak but opted to just give him a short nod of approval instead. He instantly jumped back into action, he snaked his thick tongue into the tight ring of your cunt, slurping up any juices he fucked his tongue in and out of you, as his slender nose rubbed at your clit deliciously.
"S-shit ngh- S-satoru-" You wined his name repeatedly, using his hair as leverage to grind your clit harder against his nose while he tongue fucked you like his life depended on it. Gojo alternated between using the appendage inside you and sucking your little clit into his mouth, occasionally pulling his lips away to spell his name against the bundle of nerves, making your body jerk underneath him.
Only another couple minutes had gone by and you were already about to tip over the edge again, "Fuck I-im gonna cum-" You warned, moaning his name repeatedly as he moaned his aproval against you, encouragement in the form of "mhmm, mhmm," could be heard from the man between your legs.
You rode your orgasm out on his tongue, bucking your hips against his nose to stimulate your clit as he licked up all the juices that squirted from your pussy. Gojo rolled his eyes when your thighs squeezed around his head. He tried his best to work you through your orgasm while your tiny hole pulsed greedily around his tongue. Your whimpers were like music to his ears and he couldn't hold himself back from humping his own hips into the mattress for some relief.
When you started coming down from your orgasm, he didn't stop his ministrations on your pussy, instead, he increased them. He brought a heavy hand up to press down on your pelvis, keeping you in place as he sucked your clit into overstimulation, "S-tor-u-" you croaked out, your voice coming out choppy at the intense stimulation you were feeling. "W-wait It- nghhhh!" You weren't able to tell him to stop.
Gojo's cock was twitching at your body's constant jerking and twitching, trying to escape the painful pleasure of his tongue. He was well aware of what he was doing to you, but the thought that you thought he didn't know he was currently overstimulating you, was driving him crazy, he had his corruption kink to blame for that.
He pulled his mouth off of you, bringing a hand down to replace his tongue as he easily slipped two fingers inside your hole at once, the slide being eased by how fucking soaked you were. Gojo started up a brutal pace as he scissored and curled his fingers inside you, "You like that? Like when I touch your fucking pussy like this?" He breathlessly spoke, groaning when you just nodded against the sheets, barely able to mutter semi-coherent words of his name and 'yesyesyes's'.
"Good, because I'm nowhere near being done," He groaned, dropping his mouth down to your cunt once more as he sucked your clit back into his mouth and massaged it with his tongue, all while his fingers still kept their bruising pace against your g-spot inside you. Gojo was feeling pussy-drunk. He thought his cock ached when he was fingering you earlier, but now it was almost unbearable. How he felt earlier was a cakewalk compared to this. He needed to be inside of you and he didn't know how much longer he could take it.
Your head jerked from side to side against the pillows, occasionally tipping forward and cracking your teary eyes open to watch him eat you out, noticing each time that he always hd his eyes on you.
When your overstimulation died down, you didn’t get so much as a moment of rest as he quickly built you up to another orgasm. His name spilled from your lips hurriedly and slightly panicked as this orgasm felt different. It felt like it was coming from lower and deeper inside you.
“S-satoru W-ait- gonna cum, nghh! f-feels weird!” you pressed your teeth together, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to overcome the intense new feeling.
Gojo spoke against your clit as he continued to curl his fingers inside your walls, “Think you’re gonna squirt honey,” he informed you, making you internally freak out.
You’ve watched porn before before, and squirting always looked so messy and intense. You were worried gojo would be grossed out by the mess. A stupid thought considering how he was currently burying his face as deep as possibly into your cunt and smearing your juices all over the bottom half of his face and your thighs alike in the process.
“Fuck! f-ffhaaah-“ you whined, digging your nails against his scalp to ground yourself as he gave the same treatment to your thighs, his fingers sure to leave bruises at his strong grip; but he wanted you to know it was okay— he was there.
Your orgasm crashed over you harder this time, your cum released out of you in spurts as you came hard on his tongue. Gojo groaned against your clit as he fucked his fingers harder in and out of your hole, trying to milk all the squirt he could from your body.
You felt like your soul had left your body, touched the heavens, then returned when you started to come down from your high. Even though Gojo had told you he wouldn’t stop until you told him to, he read the room, you might actually see heaven if he kept going.
He raised his head up from between your thighs, kissing the plush of your legs, your tummy, your breasts, as he made his way up your body, allowing your shaking legs to wrap around his hips and press his body firmly against yours.
“Good fucking girl,” he praised, pressing his soaked lips to yours as he kissed you needily, spreading your wetness on the bottom half of your face. You tasted yourself on his tongue, making you whine, you didn’t taste bad, but you preferred the taste of him better.
Although you had just squirted all over him and came twice before that, you were still needy for more. You humped against Gojo's unclothed cock, rubbing your wet slit against him, making him groan into your mouth. "Careful," He grunted between kisses, rutting his hips back against your pussy, his tip catching under the hood of your clit and making your body jerk against him.
The both of you continued to dry hump each other, moaning and breathing heavily into the other's mouth, curses spilling from your lips. There was an obscenely lewd 'schlick' sound emanating into the room from your combined wetness. Gojo bit your lip, gasping as he took ahold of your hips and helped you rock yourself against the length of his cock. This felt ten thousand times better than your hand, his eyes rolled back in his head at the thought of feeling your cunt from the inside.
"Satoru please," You begged between kisses, holding his chizzeled face between your hands, "Fuck me, please fuck me, I need it," you whined into his open mouth, hearing him moan at your words. He really wanted to fuck you but he still needed to teach you how to suck a- "Please toru' f-feel so empty please." All rational logic was thrown out of his head as you continued your shameless begging, your orgasm must've wiped away your embarrassment.
Fuck teaching you to suck dick, you would have all of the time in the world to do that later. If he didn't feel your walls squeeze around his cock this second, he was going to lose his mind. "O-okay, okay yeah, Ill fuck you baby, gonna make you feel so good." He finally spoke, giving you one final kiss before he pulled back and flipped you over so you were on your tummy, he closed your legs together and mounted his hips over your ass, so you were in the 'pronebone' position, his favortie.
This position allowed him to fuck into the g-spot with scarily accurate precision; this is the position he went to to make girls cum without clitoral stimulation. "It might hurt a little at first, I'll take it slow." He promised, really hoping he was able to fulfill his words after he felt how soft you were around his cock. "Just give it to me, please, don't care if it hurts." You wined, pressing the side of your face into the sheets as you waited to feel his cock slide inside of you.
He was trying not to take your words at their face value, he knew you were cock drunk, you were a little out of it from your orgasms, and on top of that you were a virgin, never even having cum before an hour and a half ago. Yet still a very big part of his brain was telling him to listen to you, to fuck into your cunt with reckless abandon, and absolutely abuse your pussy with his dick.
He took a deep breath, gathering himself before he slapped a heavy hand against the fat of your ass, making you squeal at the unexpected impact. "Be patient, I'll give it to you don't worry~" He grinned, giving himself a couple slow strokes and wetting his cock with the juices that you had rubbed on him earlier. "Take some deep breaths for me baby, stop me if it's too much." He said, grabbing his thick cock at the base as he started to rub it up and down through your folds, catching it on your tight little hole.
You just wined at his words, wiggling your hips back against his, "Need to hear you, baby, promise you'll stop me if it's too much." He said, truly concerned he might get carried away once his cock finally got a taste of you. "Promise, I promise I ngghhh!" Your voice got cut off as gojo started pressing his girth into your tight cunt the second he registered your words.
His jaw dropped at how tight and warm you felt, a shaky breath left his lips as he pressed his cock deeper and deeper inside you, "Ngh- fuck-" He grit his teeth when you squeezed your cunt around him, "N-need you to loosen up for me, c-can't get inside you if you tighten up like that~" He said, his fingers digging into the sheets beside your head as he tried to prevent himself from cumming before he even fucked you properly.
"Its not m-me, you're so f-fucking big," You wined, pulling your lip between your teeth and biting down hard enough to draw blood, tears forming in your eyes at how full you felt. He was stretching you more than you expected, you knew your first time would come with some pain but this was something else. Youre so glad he made you cum several times before, or you might've been at risk at splitting in half at how big his cock was.
"Fuuck," He groaned at your words, pushing himself fully inside you until he was balls deep inside you, his hips pressed snugly against your ass as you both let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "So fucking tight fuuuck~" Gojo moaned, keeping his eyes glued to where the two of you were connected as he felt your walls pulse and twitch around him, letting you adjust to his size.
"S-atoru- ha-ah," You cried, gasping as the tears finally started spilling down your cheeks. Gojo felt bad for feeling so aroused at the sight, hoping you didn't feel his cock twitch inside you. "Awww baby, you cryin'?~" He teased, leaning over your form and kissing the tears from your face, making you whimper as his cock jolted impossibly deeper inside you, kissing your g-pot. All you could do was take his teasing as you cried and whimpered into the sheets while he peppered your skin with kisses.
"Can I move or do you need some more time?" he asked after a while of keeping himself still. His cock was throbbing with need inside you, but he promised he would be careful with you, meaning he would not move until you gave him the okay. You nodded, before giving a verbal 'yes' when you remembered he asked you to do that. "Alright," He acknowledged, pressing his lips to your face one last time before he pulled back again, stabilizing himself on the bed with his hands next to your head, taking a deep breath.
"T-thank you for doing this w-with me S-satoru." You wined, making him coo as he pulled his cock out of your pussy, slowly thrusting back in and watching you squeeze your eyes shut at the intense strange feeling of something inside you, "Thank you for trusting me~" He smirked down at you.
"God, you're taking me so fucking well." He praised, shaking his head and poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he started up a steady pace with his hips.
The squelching sounds were so much louder in your ears now that he was actually inside you. “Fuck- f-fuck” all you could do was curse as his dick abused your sweet spot. Every time he pulled his hips back it felt like your guts were coming out with him, and when he fucked his cock inside you, it felt like your organs had to make room to fit him in.
“Gonna go a bit faster, kay? It’ll feel so fucking good.” he promised, pressing his hips flush against your ass as he rotated his pelvis in circles against you. You nodded your head rapidly against the sheets, wet from your tears, “ye-yes please, fuck me h-arder.” you babbled, your mind feeling completely fuzzy at this point.
“God you’re being so good for me,” he groaned, pulling his cock out of you slowly before he slammed his length back inside you all at once. He started up a brutal pace, so much rougher than his previous one. The painful pleasure was making the tears fall from you eyes in bigger droplets, as you dug your nails into the sheets and humped your ass back against him to meet his thrusts.
“Yeaaah, fuck me baby, fuck my cock-“ he moaned, his jaw dropping as he licked his lips, keeping his eyes on your tight little hole that swallowed his cock so well.
“Yesyesyes, bounce that ass on my dick, take it- yess.” his voice echoed in the room, making your cunt pulse. You started feeling a coil tighten itself in your tummy, feeling very similar to the last orgasm you had, “Toru! H-harderrrr~” you slurred, a drunken smile plastering itself on your face as his hips got rougher against yours.
“Yeah? you like that? like when I fuck your pussy like this?” He groaned, gripping his hand in your hair and pressing your face harder into the mattress. Your body bounced under the roughness of his thrusts as you babbled out “yesyesyes, love it-“ through your moans.
“Fuuuuck you gonna cum?” he asked, biting his lip when he felt you tighten up around him, a telltale sign of your orgasm, “Tryna milk my cock? huh?” Gojo smirked, the pace of his hips losing their rhythm as he was as brought closer to his own orgasm as well.
“Y-yes, w-want you to fill me uuuu-ppp~” You slurred, not thinking about the words you were saying as they spilled from your lips on instinct. “Don’t say that shit,” he warned, feeling his balls tighten as he got closer and closer to his high, “Gonna fucking knock you up if you say shit like that~” he said.
Gojo had no interest in being a father, not right now at least. But your words planted a seed in his head, a seed of your tummy round with his kid, tits heavy and full of milk and fuck- he needed to stop thinking or he really might get you pregnant.
“Yes, give it to m-meee, please, cum in-side me-“ you cried, whimpering against the sheets when you started to cum, your back arching and your cunt pulsing rhythmically around him as he fucked you though it, whistling when he felt you squirt against his pelvis, his hips fucking the stream of cum out of you.
“So fucking dirty,” he groaned, “I’ll give it to you since you want it so bad,” Gojo was thrusting erratically now, his hips completely out of pace as you laid almost limply against the sheets, squeezing your cunt around him to help him cum, ignoring your own overstimulation. “P-please," You wined his name repeatedly, feeling his cock twitch tenfold whenever you did so.
"S-shit haaah~" His moans raised in pitch, breath coming in shorter pants as he stilled against you, pressing himself as deep as he could before his senses came over him last second, he pulled his cock out, making you whine at the loss as he jerked his hand rapidly over his dick, warm spurts of his cum landed on your ass while he groaned into the air, his eyes staring at the ropes of cum that decorated your ass, the visual making his spine tingle. "Fuuuuck, yess~" He whined your name as he squeezed his tip, making sure he painted every last drop of cum over your ass.
He leaned back on his feet, tipping his head back as the both of you heaved air into your lungs, swallowing the oxygen greedily. "Ha-ah, I think I died for a second." He giggled, patting the side of your ass that wasnt stained with his cum. "W-why did you-," You began to speak, rotating your body twords him and making his cum wipe on his sheets, "Why'd you pull out?" You finished, blushing at your question.
Gojo got off of your legs, helping you turn your body around and lay your back comfortably against the sheets before he spoke, "First off, you ruined my artwork," He pouted, referring to the cum he sprayed on your ass, "Anyways.. It's not like I have anything against you~" He reassured, "I'm sure our babies would be the cutest, and I'm flattered really I just-" You cut him off by calling him his last name, "I'm on birth control.." You said like it was something he was supposed to know.
Gojo's jaw just stayed dropped, staring at you blankly, before he crawled toward you, wrapping his hands around your hips as he hovered above you, smirking mischievously, "Ohhh~ Why didn't you say so before?" He said seductively, "Let me give you a creampie then~ We have so many more positions to tryy~" He wiggled his eyebrows at you, leaning his face closer to yours but it was stopped in his tracks, as you covered his lips that intended to land on yours with your hand.
"That was amazing, honestly, but I cant feel my legs right now, and I seriously don't think I have any more orgasms left in me." You said, gulping nervously thinking about him repeating what he just did to you. You felt him pout behind your hand, revealing his plush lips once more to your eyes when you dropped your hand.
His soft hair tickled your skin as he rested his head comfortable between your breasts, his hot breath ccaressing your skin when he sighed, "Honestly.. I might be shooting blanks if we tried to go again, so the attempted creampie would be a fail right now anyways." He giggled, closing his eyes when he felt your hands in his hair.
"Really, I'm glad I came to you for this Satoru." You said, making him hum against you. "I could think if no one else i'd rather teach." He said, enjoying the way your nails raked against his scalp. The two of you entangled your limbs together, your heartbeats and breaths returning to normal after some time. "You did so fucking well, dont forget that." He said, seconds from nodding off. "Thank you Satoru." You giggled.
"I still intend to teach you how to suck my dick by the way," He mumbled against your skin, ruining the moment with his vulgar words. You just caressed your hand against his head once more, shushing him after he spoke, "Let's not talk anymore.." You sighed, smiling to yourself as you rolled your eyes, fully intending to take him up on that promise, but for now, you needed to rest.
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gxtitobxby · 7 months
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𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗮𝗿 | 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘇𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗼
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summary: carmen has been busy at the restaurant, he decides to make it up to you with the thing he knows best... food. content: 18+ MDNI + aphrodisiac food in the bedroom + both carmen and you having a breeding kink + emotional sex + d/s dynamic + dom!carmen + sub!fem!reader + oral (fem receiving) + p in v + crack ending bc I didn't know what to do rip </3 also it’s my first time writing a full (?) fic for carmen so be nice to me 🥹
You've been looking forward to this all day.
"I'm taking the night off," he'd said, hand on your cheek while he kissed you goodbye on the way out the door to the restaurant for the lunch rush. "Just you and me, yeah? Feel like I haven't seen you in ages. I'll cook."
"You don't have to cook, bear. We can order in."
"I don't mind," he smiled at the way you nuzzled his palm like a cat, almost without noticing. "Y'know I love cooking for you, baby."
So it's because of these words, and the promise of his undivided attention, that your cheeks already hurt from smiling as you bounce on your feet outside your apartment, key struggling with the lock.
It's not long before the door opens from the inside to reveal a confused looking Carmen, frowning at you with a kitchen towel over his shoulder. "You okay?"
"Sorry," you smile, cheeks aching. "I'm just excited."
Carmen's own cheeks flush slightly as he steps aside to let you in, laughing when you stamp a wet kiss on his cheek.
He barely manages to close together before you're on him, hands in his hair, front glued to his. Your coat is still on and your shoes step slightly on his socked feet.
Carmen indulges you for a while, almost losing himself in you before he remembers what he's prepared. He hums and pulls away but not without struggle, shushing you with amusement when you whine and reach to bring him back. "Hold on, baby, breathe." He thumbs at your pout. "Put that away."
"Jus' missed you," you say against his thumb.
Carmen sighs at that, half endeared half riddled with guilt. "I know, I'm sorry. I missed you too, so fucking much."
You stand there for a second, looking at each other with sad but understanding eyes. He pecks your lips again, "I got us a couple things from the shop on Ellice."
"Are you trying to seduce me, Chef?" you giggle, squirming away with a laugh when he pokes at the sensitive spot between your jaw and your collarbone.
"Quiet," he warns, though an amused smile taunts at his lips. He helps you shrug off your coat and then watches you toe off your shoes before he starts pushing you down the hall. He stops you, however, when you go to turn towards the kitchen. "Nope," he redirects you with his hands on your hips, "go to the bedroom and get out of your clothes."
You smile, biting your lip, and start walking backwards down the hall. "All of them?"
He tugs at the towel over his shoulder and gives you a loaded look, lips quirked. "All of them."
--
It feels like hours before you finally hear his footsteps coming down the hall. On the one hand, it probably feels that way because you've been hot and dripping for the last six hours in anticipation for this moment. On the other hand, your boyfriend is known to enjoy teasing you until you're crying, so it's not entirely out of the question that it has been hours.
When he appears at the door, his eyes look as dark as the night sky outside the window when they zero in on you.
Your clothes lay in a neat little pile on the dresser. He notices and gives it a half smirk, knowing full well it's for his sake. When his eyes turn back to you, he's fully in control. "Keep your legs apart."
Oh, you think, cunt throbbing. It's one of those nights.
He nears the bed quietly, eyeing you as you do as he says, thighs trembling already under his gaze. It's only when he puts a plate on the bed that you realize he'd been carrying one.
“Lay back, head on the pillow, hands to your sides.”
You do as he says, because of course you do. Your eyes are already starting to glaze over the slightest bit. It’s been a while since you’ve really played. You’ve missed it, and you can tell he has too. For you, there’s something relieving about handing full control over, letting someone else worry about your pleasure. And for Carmen, it’s knowing you’ll do exactly as he says, with shiny eyes and a sweet little smile reserved only for him. When he’s with you, there’s no worrying or yelling or chasing after people doing whatever the hell they want. All he needs are his words, level toned, and his haunting eyes keeping you in place.
Well, at least when you’re in a scene. You’re known to be a bit of a brat otherwise.
When he doesn’t ask you to recite your safewords, though, you know you won’t be doing any hard play. He just wants your full attention. He’s careful with the plate when he leans over to kiss you, slow and methodically—steady. “I’m going to be nice to you tonight.” Another kiss. “And you’ll be good and listen, right? Let me give my girl what she deserves?”
“Yes,” you breathe, “yes, sir.”
“Good,” he praises, fingers ghosting over your nipple. It hardens under his touch, straining for his attention. “You’re so beautiful like this, you know that?” His head ducks down so he can watch your nipple pebble, curls tickling your chin. “Even when I’m at work, a thousand orders coming out, Richie and Tina on my fucking ass. Sometimes even then I can’t stop thinking about you.”
He lowers his head lower until his hot breath fans against your nipple. “All mine, right?”
Your back arches slightly, chasing, and your hands fist at the sheets to stop from reaching for him. He kisses gently right under where you want him, on the swell of your breast, ignoring the way you whine. “Right, baby?”
“Yes,” you mewl, squirming. “All yours, Carmen. Always. Please.”
His tongue makes contact first and before you're halfway through your moan, his lips are wrapped tightly around the hardening nub. 
It’s over before you know it, but he already has  your brain starting to pool out of your ears. It’s so easy for him it’s unfair, the way he can turn you brainless with a single touch.
Before you can complain, he’s back. This time with what looks like honey dripping from his fingers. He swirls the digits around your nipple, chasing it with his tongue until he’s licked the soft supple skin clean.
The second time he pulls away he grabs a strawberry and slots it between your lips. It’s soft and juicy and sickeningly sweet. “Hold it there,” he says, chasing the juice dripping down your chin with his tongue. “If you drop it, I won’t be pleased with you.”
It’s cruel, you think to yourself when you moan around the fruit. It’s hard, so incredibly difficult not to swallow it when his mouth knows the secrets to everything that makes you come undone. 
Once he’s done biting and suckling on your tits, he begins trailing wet kisses down your chest and to your tummy, leaving the tender nub with a parting kiss. He reaches for a piece of pineapple and lets the juice drip down your navel. The nectar glides past the patch of curls that crown atop your cunt and finally through your folds, tickling at your sensitive clit as it preens and begs for his attention.
Carmen groans at the sight of your cunt, puffy and slick and aching. He noses at the crease where your navel meets your thigh. “I can fucking smell you, baby. So fucking sweet. What do you want, sweetheart, tell me.”
You mewl around the fruit in your mouth, whining until he comes up and kisses you. He bites at the strawberry and lets the juice drip into your mouth. Both your tongues are coated in sticky nectar, and the kiss becomes messy, primal. When he pulls away he whispers, “tell me.”
“You,” you whine, hips bucking. “Please, Carmen, p-please.”
He nips gently at your jaw and works his way back down to suck on the skin of your inner thigh. “You always get so polite when you want something. Use your words, baby. Tell me exactly what you want.”
“Your mouth,” you whimper, “your mouth on me, please.”
“My mouth where?” he asks, kissing chastely right above your clit. “Here?”
“No,” you cry, “o-on my pussy, please.”
He grins against your skin while you flush and curl into yourself at the lewd words. “On your pretty pussy, baby? You know you gotta be nice to my girl.”
“On my pretty pussy,” you parrot, flustered and embarrased but so fucking wet. “On my pretty pussy, please.”
“That’s my girl,” he praises, and then the heat of his mouth is everywhere.
His tongue weaves through your folds, slurping at the pineapple juice mixed with your slick, the sweetest thing he’s ever fucking tasted.
“You taste so fucking good. Always, so fucking sweet.” He teases at your entrance and then presses the length of his tongue flat against your slit, moaning at the taste while your back arches dramatically off the mattress “Should bottle it up, make it my secret ingredient.” He grunts and noses at your clit ignoring your little squeal. “I’d have to kill every motherfucker that had a taste, though.”
“Bad for business,” you sigh, giggling breathlessly when he laughs gruffly against your skin.
“Think you’re right. I’ll keep you just to myself then.”
He makes out with your cunt for a while until he has you right on the edge, and then with a final nip to your puffy clit you gush right into his mouth. He laps up every drop, drinking it like it’s holy fucking water.
Chest heaving, you squirm and try to pull him away, head dazed, “too much,” you mewl, “s’too much”
He hums, giving your twitchy clit one final kiss that makes you whine before pulling away and shuffling until he’s kneeling between your thighs. Big hands make easy work of moving your thighs off the mattress and pressing them against your chest. He kisses at your ankle and then slides his tongue to suck on the sensitive skin of your arch. “You got another one in you, right baby? Gonna come on my cock?”
“Y-yeah,” you blink blearily at him, reaching for him with a pout until he gives in and folds you in half, chest to the back of your thighs, your feet over his shoulders. He kisses you then, still dripping with pineapple juice and your slick, melted into a sweetness that he’ll never get out of his head. You blink again and he coos when you speak, “I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” he murmurs, nose bumping against yours. “So fucking much, it’s embarrassing.”
“Missed you,” you whimper quietly, chasing his lips until he gives in. “S-so much, I missed you. I love you.”
“I know, I know, baby,” his heart aches at your sad weepy eyes. His sweet girl, he thinks, always soft hearted, but especially when she comes. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. Been neglecting my girl, huh?”
You nod dumbly, brows furrowed and lips quirked downward. You sniffle and he kisses you again while the tip of his cock teases at your entrance. He slides in slowly, grunting into your mouth while you gasp into his. “The prettiest fucking girl. Only thing that matters to me, y’know? Most precious thing in the world.” His hips smack against the fat of your ass with every thrust while your walls do their best to accommodate his length. “Fuck,” he’s babbling now, “squeeze so fucking good around my cock, baby, always do.” His forehead knocks against yours, “I’d give it all up for you, yeah? You just gotta ask, sweetheart.”
“Carmen,” you sob, tightening like a fucking vice around him when he makes you come again. The curls at the base of his cock rub perfectly against your clit, stimulating the puffy nub until it’s aching. He kisses you through it, soothing and all consuming. 
“Just say the word,” he urges, now chasing his own high as he picks up speed. “You’re all I fucking need, baby. Gonne fuck a baby into you, and that’s all we’ll ever need, yeah?”
“Y-yeah,” you pant, “Please, please, please, Carmen. Inside me, please.”
“Fuck, fuck , fuck.”
When he comes, he comes buckets—like he always does. It spills and drips down your ass until it’s pooling on the sheets. Carmen sags against you, barely managing to keep his weight from fully crushing you. Not that it matters since you cling to him like a monkey, wrapping your legs tight around his waist once he helps you lower them from his shoulders. Your arms wrap around him too, keeping his head in the crook of your neck while you both struggle to catch your breath.
With a grunt, Carmen pulls out, and with him a ribbon of cum trickles out and down the back of your thigh. “Shit,” he laughs. You gasp when he scoops it up and sticks it back into your cunt, hand circling his wrist at the overstimulation.
“Sorry, sorry,” he mutters with a smile against your forehead before dropping down next to you, one arm behind his head while the other beckons you into his side and away from the damp spot.
You’re both quiet while you lay there, still breathing heavy while Carmen rubs up and down your arm, and you draw nonsensical shapes on his chest.
“You don’t have to give anything up, you know?” you say quietly, kissing the inked skin of his pectoral. “I know I said I missed you, and I did obviously,” you laugh, still quiet. “Like so fucking much, but… I’d never make you stop doing what you love, not unless it’s hurting you.”
“I know,” he hums, thoughtful. “I’m shit at balancing though… I know that. But I’m working on it, baby. Promise I am. I don’t ever want you to feel I love anything more than you. I’d be a fucking idiot, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Do you say that to all the girls?” you smile against his chest, knowing full well he doesn't because the man is nothing if not completely smitten. Carmen huffs, pinching your ass until you’re squealing and squirming until you’re laying on top of him. 
There’s cum still pooling out of you, making Carmen hum when he feels it drip on him. His hands knead at your ass, smiling gently when you kiss at the underside of his jaw. “Gotta clean you up, you’re leaking.”
“Carmen!” you whine through your laughter, slapping him halfheartedly. “You’re gross.”
“Me?” He teases, a mischievousness in his eye that anyone else would find unlike him. Not you though. “You’re the one being a human twinkie on top of an innocent man.”
You lean up on your elbows, staring at him stone faced. “I’m telling Richie you said that.” 
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earthtooz · 9 months
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x : AVOIDANCE :*+゚
in which: falling for blade was not on your agenda, so naturally you decide to distance yourself. however, the last thing you'd predicted was blade being upset with the sudden space.
warnings: 2.3k wc, FLUFF, ooc!blade probably bc i'm still trying to figure it out, kafka meddles with the two of you, gn!stellaron hunter!reader who has a past lol, NOT PROOFREAD, idiots in love bc i love that trope, bad writing
a/n: thank you to the anon who gave me this idea :D much appreciated, i had a lot of fun with this one when my angstier fics were draining me af. i hope you enjoy, apologies if it's a little low quality, but it's my child &lt;3
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when you first joined the team of stellaron hunters, you didn’t expect to get much out of it, especially since the team looked so cold, calculating, mischievous, and unforgiving, greeting you with vicious smiles and muddy eyes. preemptively, you assumed the most you would receive is acquaintanceship.
however, time has proven you wrong, because on the contrary, you have found comfort, friendship, and stability in the form of this mismatched group.
you never expected to find love either.
but you did, and it might be the worst decision your heart has ever made.
“y/n, there you are. kafka and i are thinking about going out to lunch. want to join?” silver wolf’s voice interrupts your train of thought, disrupting your peace in your private spot amongst the gardens.
“oh, hi silver wolf,” you murmur, shutting your book after shoving in a bookmark. “who else is going?”
“kafka asked blade and he agreed.”
the genius hacker doesn’t notice the way you tense upon hearing a certain swordman’s name. instead, you play it cool by opening up your book again, scanning the pages in hopes of ignoring the racing of your heart.
“i think i’ll pass on this one. thank you though,” you mutter.
“really?” the silver-haired asks, popping her gum before shrugging. “whatever you say. i’m off!”
“bye!”
hearing her footsteps fade, you slump in your seat, your memories with blade hauntingly eminent in your mind. you don’t recall when you fell for him, or why exactly, all you have in your recollection is a series of moments that you look back fondly upon with a full heart, love slowly seeping in to you and causing your affections to grow to the size that they reside at now.
when you had realised, the love had already grown too big to deflate, and dejection struck moments after; a big bang of butterflies in your stomach that all disintegrated straight after.
how brutal- perhaps this was an indication that blade was rubbing off on you too much, and you need to cleanse yourself of his influence.
love, although fickle, was not something that you avidly rejected. despite having lived like a hunted deer, your experiences have been fleeting, building your delicate heart for a life of meeting, falling, then leaving when you least wanted to, needing to run before an arrow pierced you- and certainly not cupid’s one. 
but with blade, everything is different. there is no arrow to run from, not in the life that elio has foreseen for you. for the first time in your life, you can stop running away and try fall into the arms of love with little remorse.
it's just ironic that you fall into the arms of a man who should not be touched.
“y/n’s not coming with us today,” silver wolf reports after meeting up with the other two stellaron hunters.
“oh?” kafka hums, “usually y/n’s always willing to hangout, why’s that?”
“busy or something, i don’t know, i didn’t care to ask.”
the slight scrunch of displeasure in blade’s expression passes by the keen eyes of both kafka and silver wolf. if either of them had noticed then perhaps it would have been a topic of interest, but for the time being, the pair move on (faster than the third member), your unusual absence dismissed in favour of where to get food.
as the days turn into nights and elio issues more missions and mumbles more futures, blade feels as though he sees you less and less.
it’s not intuition more than it is you purposefully ignoring and evading blade in your everyday, though.
“good morning,” kafka’s voice greets when she walks in to the cafeteria, where you were eating breakfast alone. setting down your phone, you regard her with a mouth full of bread. “gross. at least swallow first.”
“screw off,” you murmur. “how did you sleep?”
“fine fine, i woke up in the wrong position though and my neck is killing me, but what about you? seems like you’ve been up a while.”
“i’ve been up since asscrack of dawn.” 
the purple-haired regards you with amusement. “why’s that?”
“body clock or whatever,” you lie, staring down at your glass of water.
“i see,” kafka hums half-heartedly, as if seeing right through you. “well, i’m going to get some coffee, i’ll be right back.”
“mk.”
you’re left on your own for only a few minutes, waiting patiently in silence for kafka to return. the morning is cool and pleasant, and the smell of rain is still heavy in the air as the morning dew lightens the atmosphere. the weather will surely get hotter as the day matures, but for now, you enjoy the gentle caress of sunlight on your back.
or rather- you were enjoying the gentle caress of the sun, but the methodicalness of it all is ruined when you spot a certain figure with dark, long hair beside kafka.
suddenly the last thing you know is peace and calm, and the abrupt, painful scraping of your chair against the floor symbolises that.
“going somewhere?” kafka asks.
picking up your scraps, you avoid blade’s gaze. “yeah! i- uh, realised that i have some documents to drop off for elio by twelve or whatever.”
“won't you stay to keep us company for breakfast,” the purple-haired tempts, “it feels like it’s been so long since we’ve spent some proper time together.”
“has it?” you laugh nervously and kafka easily picks up the pitchiness of your tone. “i’ll make it up soon, i promise, i’ve just been overflowed with things to do.”
“alright. you be off then. don’t work too hard.”
“i won’t. my head is remaining tight on my shoulders, don’t you worry!” you reassure before scrambling away, feeling like your legs could not be any slower as you retreat away from blade’s scrutinising gaze. when you round the corner, you sigh a breath of relief. 
it’s laughable and simultaneously admirable how dedicated you are about dodging every interaction possible, but for the record, you think you’re doing quite well. not that space was doing many favours for your heart, but persistence is key. 
whoever believed that distance makes the heart grow fonder just clearly didn’t try enough, because yours feels like it’s about to hammer out of your chest with how fast it is racing, and the sensation is equivalent to something like pain rather than fondness.
“i’m worried,” blade mutters, gaze lingering on where you’d just disappeared. “and why does y/n talk like i’m not right here?”
“aww, are you upset?” coos kafka, taking a seat. the swordsman mimics her.
“why wouldn’t i be? it feels like y/n has been ignoring me as of late.”
kafka hums thoughtfully, swirling her coffee cup around.
“do you know anything about that?”
“nup. nothing at all,” she answers, feigning ignorance to the many suspicions that are bubbling around in her mind. the last thing kafka is, is blind, your unusual behaviour has not bypassed her perceptive eye at all, but she believes she has uncovered the reasoning as to why; said reasoning being a certain swordsman.
the revelation is definitely interesting, and she might just be able to give the push you both need.
“y’know what, bladie? if it concerns you that much, i’d say you go check up on y/n later,” kafka suggests.
“why not you?”
“i’ll be busy, but i think some support in dire times is just what y/n needs.”
“okay. fine.”
when blade gathers the courage to check up on you, like kafka recommended, the time is nearing 5pm. the sun is beginning to cool, the animals are retreating into their nests, and the big, bad, intimidating stellaron hunter is roaming around the archives, where you’re situated to work, hoping to locate you.
it takes a few laps around to finally find your placement because you’re fast asleep, only identifiable to blade by the jacket you hung on the back of your chair.
the sight of you hunched over your desk over a multitude of forms and papers causes a wave of concern (however much he can feel) to wash over blade, and suddenly, he does something completely foreign to him: dote over someone.
gently lifting your jacket to cover your shoulders, he stills when you shift a little, your eyebrows furrowing in your sleep. deciding to leave you alone, all blade spares is one lasting look at your vulnerability before leaving. 
he wonders what it is that could be making you so frustrated. 
(if only he knew). 
a few days later, kafka confronts you about the suspicions that’s been creeping to the forefront of her mind.
“did you do something to piss a certain bladie off?” 
kafka’s saccharine voice is laced with mischief as she leans towards you, chin resting on the palm of her hand. she certainly does not miss the way you tense up at the mention of the swordsman’s name and her smirk widens when you shuffle away, subconsciously turning away, as if avoiding the subject.
“i can’t think of why i would have,” you murmur, crossing your arms. “why?”
“oh, nothing, he’s just been complaining and crying a lot recently.”
“he does that all the time.”
“so he does,” your fellow stellaron hunter hums. “except he’s mentioning your name a lot more nowadays.” 
you freeze. “what?”
“hm? did i say something peculiar?”
inhaling a deep breath, you steady yourself. you know what kafka wants out of you and you’re not going to give it to her despite how innocent and pretty she spins the web to look. after all these years together, you hope to have learnt a thing or two about how to avoid her snare.
“what is blade saying about me?” you quiz. 
she blinks at you. “why so curious if you haven’t done anything?” 
“can i not ask about something that involves my name? besides, he’s my friend, i want to know what he’s saying,” you lean against the back of the couch, trying to calm the involuntary shake in your legs. you despise that the slightest mention of blade can cause a bottomless pit to form in your stomach and it’s not because of how intimidating or threatening he is. 
no, it’s because you’ve fallen for him, hook, line, and centre.
and blade would have to die before you ever tell him.
“mostly just grumbles about wondering where you are,” kafka expands, waving her hands about to match her words. “he asked silver wolf and i if you’ve been talking to us and when we said ‘yes’, he looked pissed! when i asked why he was being a sourpuss, he just stormed off.”
“so temperamental, that man,” she sighs. then, she looks back at you with those half-lidded eyes that have always gotten her what she wants, and in this case, they’re answers. “so tell me, y/n, what did you do to our bladie to have him all riled up like this?”
“nothing. absolutely nothing.”
“are you sure?”
“positive.”
“positive?”
you avoid her curious gaze. “positive.”
“maybe i phrased the question wrong. has bladie done something to you instead?”
panic settles within you. “no,” you lie through your teeth. “he hasn’t.”
“so if i asked you why you left breakfast so abruptly that day, you wouldn’t say that it’s because of him?”
“i had work to do, kafka, you know how busy my job gets.”
“i know, i know,” she persists, “then why weren’t you in a hurry before blade arrived that morning?”
you don’t know how to refute that, letting silence speak volumes instead.
“and why did you skip out on lunch with silver wolf and i? was it because we also invited a certain someone?”
“okay! fine, you’ve got me. what do you want to know?” you explode, tossing your phone on the couch in frustration. 
“so it is about blade?” questions your coworker.
“yeah. it is.”
“what about him? did he do something to hurt you? you know he’s accidentally mean sometimes-”
“it’s not that, he’s nothing but a sweetheart.”
“so what’s the problem?”
“that is the problem! he’s just… he’s him.”
“is that bad?”
“for my heart, yes.”
“oh my- so you like him?”
you exhale exasperatedly, “don’t act like you haven’t already figured that out, kafka.”
the cheshire smile she then flashes sends shivers down your spine. for whatever reason, an oppressive feeling grows in your gut, resembling something like a warning.
“you’re right, i knew,” she flaunts. then, her gaze cuts to look behind you. “but i don’t think blade did.”
your heart lurches out of your chest with enough force to pull you off the couch and you stumble around to see that, lo and behold, blade was indeed standing in the hallway. the expression he wears tells you enough; he heard you, he knows.
kafka somehow sneaks her way out of the room, leaving you alone to deal with the face of rejection. it’s daunting being in the same space as him after so long, you almost forgot about the intimidating pressure that blade naturally exudes and projects in every space he enters.
“hi,” you start, looking away. 
he stalks over to you, footsteps soundless before stopping a feet in front of you. instead of saying something, the swordsman merely gazes down at you whilst you keep your eyes glued to the side.
“can you reject me already? the silence is kinda killing me,” you snap after a few seconds, crossing your arms protectively. 
instead of obeying to your request, blade does something completely unexpected; he very gently lifts your chin with his hand, and red eyes bore right into yours. is it odd to feel seen in your demise? because blade is looking- no, surveying you with such immense focus and clarity that your heart stills, frozen in position because it wants him to see the most picturesque part of you. 
(he sees it, but he wants to know more of you. the pretty, the ugly, the likeable, and the unwanted.)
“would you like to go on a date?” he asks.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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nymphomatique · 7 months
Note
I NEED MORE OF LOSER NERD MIGUEL PLEASEEEEE YOU'VE AWAKENED SOMETHING IN ME
ask and you shall receive they say! here’s some more word vomit 2 hold u over while the full fic is loading 🤭
cw: mean reader LOL she calls miguel a bitch, foot humping, spit, shoe licking🫣, d/s play, miguel is down horrendous, hair pulling. might have missed smt but oh well. also this isn’t proofread oops lolz. but enjoy!! 💋
in #my opinion i think that loser boy miguel is into the degrading stuff. like the more embarrassing it is for him the more it turns him on.
setting the scene for you: miguel is over at your dorm doing you online lab work for you on your laptop while you’re getting ready to go out. naturally you have on the skimpiest number, tits out, ass out, the body is hypnotic, the whole nine.
miguel steals glances of you because while you may be a little bit of a bitch sometimes, god were you beautiful. you catch him staring and sneer at him and it makes him blush and duck his head down once more to do his- your homework.
the finisher? the heels you put on. they’re patent black pumps, red bottoms naturally. and miguel absolutely loses it. he feels his dick start to twitch in his sweats instantly and is already blushing a furious red.
“what’s got you excited, dweeb?” you tease, putting on your earrings. “bet your little nerd dick got hard looking at me, huh.”
he doesn’t say anything and just blushes even more and you laugh because he really is hard! nerd or not, one thing you can’t deny is the meat miguel is packing. you could fit some fun for the two of you before your uber came, if you were fast that is.
“promise it’s not cus i’m a perv.. i swear.. you look nice. s’all.” miguel sputters under your intense gaze.
“yeah? what part of me do you think looks the nicest, hmm?” you say while sauntering over him. he looks down at your shoes silently and you see the tent in his pants twitch. “you got a fucking shoe fetish, freak?” you giggle.
“n-no! it’s not-” he tries but you’re already thinking of how to embarrass him.
“don’t lie to me. you like the mommy dom shit, huh? well, come hump mommies foot.” you say standing only two feet away from where he’s sitting on the bed. he stares up at you with his glasses widening his already blown out eyes. “or don’t. i don’t have all day.”
with that he moves your laptop aside and strips down to his briefs. he makes his way to walk over to you but an idea strikes you. “crawl to me.”
and crawl he does, his tan skin and blooming back musculature making it’s way towards you on all fours.
“good boy. kiss my shoes and thank them before you start.” you say, your downcast gaze holding all the same authority and tension as your tone. he places both of his hands on the floor and begins to lower his lips to your shoe, his full lips making contact with your shoe.
“t-thank you, mistress, f- for letting me use your shoe to get off.” he says shakily, eyes averting your gaze. your mouth pulls into a small smile at his pathetic display. you almost laugh.
“i’m pleased. you may begin.” and miguel wastes no time, his swollen dick making itself seen in his boxer print. once again, you find yourself impressed at the heavy dick miguel packs. you figure it was probably given to him in place of a backbone. he scoots until his length is at the tip of your leather clad toes and he slowly begins to grind against your foot, letting out soft exhales of air.
“hurry up, i don’t have all day.” you spit, getting a little impatient at the time he’s taking. wordless, he speeds up his humping at your foot, his hand coming up to your leg, gripping your calf and the other hand placed palm down next to your foot to steady himself. as he speeds up, his moans come out louder and more frequently, his praises seeming to slip in with them.
you’re greatful for his height, because even on his knees, the top of his head reaches your lower stomach. you grab a fist full of his thick hair and jerk his head back so he can face you, and his expression sends a wave of heat through you. his face is flushed, eyes watering, mouth open spilling out moans of “thank you, mistress, so g-good.. i’m your good boy.. wanna be good..”
“wanna be good, huh? open your mouth for me then,” and without hesitation, he opens his mouth to you, and you spit into his mouth, some hitting the corner of his lip. “close your mouth and swallow it, bitch boy.” ever so eager to follow instructions, he does with a sated expression on his face. your spit seems to have excited him more, considering he’s fully thrusting against your foot now.
“c-can i cum please mistress? it hurts so bad. n-need it please, need you. f-fuuuck,” his pleading makes something in your chest tighten, seeing the power you have over this six foot two hunk of musculature beneath you, jumping at your foot like a depraved animal. he’s looking up at you, your hand still present in his messy hair, and with a cruel smile, you allow him to cum. “cum for your mistress.”
with a few more thrusts, he releases a heavy moan and cums into his briefs, occasionally twitching during his come down. before he gets a chance to speak, you push him off your leg and place a shoe to his balls, pressing ever so slightly, releasing a pert whimper out of miguel. “you made a mess of my louboutins.” you say flatly. “clean them.”
he takes no time to get on his knees and begin to lick your heel clean of his semen. you laugh at the sight, and even more when you see he’s sporting the beginning of another erection.
“fucking pathic,” you chortle. with your uber outside, you push your heel against his forehead and begin to walk away to get your purse as if nothing happened. “finish my homework and get the fuck out, if i see you’re still here when i get back, you’re cleaning the soles of my shoes next.” and with that, you leave your dorm with miguel in his soiled underwear on your floor, and your shoes sporting a new shine.
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sdr2lovemail · 3 months
Note
Could you write something about Sun and Moon being irritated/jealous that they can't kiss the reader (the maintenance worker one) with their mouths like a human can so the reader shows them about all the other ways to kiss? Like kissing Sun's hand up his arm to his cheek until he is giggling so loudly Vanessa thinks he's gone off his rocker, or gently kissing Moon's forehead all the way down to where his heart would be? Even better if the maintenance reader leaves behind little lipstick marks on their face for Monty and the gang to laugh about :D
Inspired by that one tumblr post about a guy walking out with a few lipstick kiss marks and then saying "you should see what they did to the other guy" in a stereotypical mobster voice before said other guy drunkenly walks out absolutely covered in lipstick marks, sfw of course I want Fluff I want Affection I want Lovey Dovey-ness if you think you could swing it, just the softest silliest thing you can write, and keep up the good work anywho :')
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I have no mouth, and I must kiss. (GN Reader but they do wear lipstick) Synopsis: After a play full of heartbreak and tragedy, Sun realizes that he'll never be able to kiss you. You remedy the situation.
Notes: It's been almost 2 years since I've written a fnaf fic, I feel rusty. Help wanted 2 got me calling my old mans' numbers. That's a joke they never left my phone. Anon if you're still out there, I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labors.
Requests are open!
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Children are very persuasive. While you originally came to the daycare to fix a broken screen, you’ve ended up in a play. Decked out with a foam sword, you act as the story’s brave knight. Once you’ve slain the dragon, a kid wearing a Monty hood, your princess awaits.
“My dear knight! You saved me from the evil dragon!” Sun swoons. Instead of his waist frills, he’s worn a bright yellow skirt. Dangling from a few of his rays was a princess cap. The bells on his wrist jingle as he clasps his hands. “Is there any way I can repay you?”
You press a hand against your heart and bow your head. “There is no need, Princess. Protecting you is my sworn duty.” You’d say your acting wasn’t half bad for an underpaid maintenance worker.
“The princess has to kiss the knight!” A kid called from the audience.
Sun felt rigid like his joints were locking up. He hoped you couldn’t hear his fans kicking on as his body temperature rose. He would love to kiss you but wanted the moment to be perfect. “N-now friend, we don-”
“Mr. Sun can’t kiss them! He doesn’t have a mouth!” Another kid argued. Something about what they said made Sun feel weird.
“Yes, he does! It just can’t open.” 
Sun lets out a huff, turning to you. “They’re getting cranky. It must be snack time. I’ll pass them out quickly. That way, we can spend time together!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, eager for you to stick around.
Your fazwatch pings with an alert: a S.T.A.F.F. bot got stuck in Monty Golf. “Oh, sorry, Sun. I have another job to do. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Sun would be frowning if his faceplate could move. He quickly perks up and sets his hands on your shoulders. “Right! Right, right, right, you have a job. Responsibilities! I’ll- I’ll see you at closing. Buh-bye, friend!” The jester waves you goodbye before sighing, hurrying to pass out snacks before someone throws a tantrum.
The rest of your day goes as smoothly as working as the Pizza Plex could be. It was after closing time, and you were doing your final tasks. The glamrocks were in their rooms, the S.T.A.F.F bots were on their set paths, and nothing on the floor needed fixing. The last place you needed to check on was the daycare. 
Walking through the big wooden doors, Sun is nowhere to be seen. You call his name, followed by Moon’s, but still nothing. Shrugging it off, you make your rounds, checking everything is in place. During the sweep, you could hear muffled words from a storage closet.
“Do you think they’ve kissed anyone, Moon? We can’t do that…” That was the unmistakable voice of Sun. “I wonder what it would be like. Hmph, even the glamrocks can move their mouths…” He grumbles.
When you open the door, Sun jumps like he’s been shocked. He scrambled to stand up. “Ah! Oh, hi! You’re here early!”
“It’s almost eleven. I’ve been here for almost thirty minutes.” You say, checking your watch. “What were you talking about?”
“Would you believe me if I said nothing?” The daycare attendant tilts his head, his faceplate spinning a bit.
“No, I would not.”
Sun sighs as he sits back on the closet floor, his legs crisscrossed and his hands holding his face. Taking a seat next to him, you ask him what’s wrong.
“I was just thinking about some stuff after our play. Moon and I can’t kiss you!” He flops over dramatically as if he’d heard tragic news. “Our face is stuck in this stupid smile!” He tugs on one of his rays, angry at his lack of facial mobility.
“Hey, I don’t mind that you guys can’t kiss me. There’s more to a relationship than that. Besides, there are other ways to kiss.”
This breaks him out of his kissless stupor. “There are? Tell me, tell me!” Sun practically shakes where he sits. “Better yet, show me!” He opens his arms wide, inviting you to do as you please.
Taking one of his large hands in your own, you place a kiss on the back of his hand, leaving a lipstick mark on the shiny plastic. While he didn’t have pupils, you could feel Sun’s eyes burning into you. He didn’t want to miss a single second!
The touch sensors in his arms and hands weren’t that sensitive. Kids sure did like to scratch, kick, and bite. But even so, he could still feel your lips pressing fluttering kisses to his casing. Laughter bubbled up in his voice box. 
Kiss after kiss lined Sun’s arm. Even if it left stains, this is one mess he could let slide. You took his other arm in your hands, mimicking your previous affections. Kissing back up his arms, you reach his faceplate. Sun’s giggling gets louder as your lips kiss the hard surface of his cheeks.
“Hey, your shift’s almost over. Get ready to clock out.” Vanessa’s voice rings from your watch. 
When you pull away to answer, Sun tries to follow your lips. “Alright, I’ll be at the office in a moment.” Sun lets out another round of laughter.
“Oh, you’re with him… Your pay gets docked when you stay overtime, you know. Make sure to leave before the shutters close.” With that last sentence, Vanessa cuts off her line.
With excited, shaking hands, Sun brings your face closer to his. “Keep kissing me! Please, please, please!” His begging is cut short as he listens to Moon say something. “Awww, but I’m not done!” Sun still gets up to turn the lights off, moping the whole way there.
Bright red optics suddenly appear in front of your eyes. The lights glow against your skin. Moon clicks a flashlight on, making his faceplate look more menacing than he probably intended. “You weren’t thinking about leaving, were you? Not when you haven’t given me the same attention Sun got, right?” 
“Oh, of course not, Moon!” Cupping his face in your hands, you leave a kiss mark on his forehead.
You bring your trail of kisses down to his nose, trailing along the curve, up to the corner of his eye. Moon lets out that raspy laugh of his. He tugs you closer, craving the warmth of your skin against the cold of his plastic.
He watched as you kissed down his face and neared his chest. “Sun was whining all day, worrying over us not being able to kiss you.” Moon snickered. “He was fretting over nothing, as usual. But I must admit, he’s right about some things.” 
His ‘breath’ hitched as he watched you kiss right where his heart would be. The fans in his chest cavity kicked into overdrive as they tried to cool his circuits, trying their best not to overheat. “Kissing you would be a dream.” 
Letting out a laugh of your own, you press another soft kiss on Moon’s chest. “I guess I’ll have to do the kissing for all three of us.” Punctuating your sappy sentence, you kiss their sculpted-on smile. An audible puff of air leaves the daycare attendant’s chassis.
 “Attention Pizza Plex Guests and Staff. The Pizza Plex’s doors will close in ten minutes.” An automated voice rang over the building’s speakers.
More alert than before, you get up from the closet door. “I gotta go!” You were not trying to spend the night here. “Bye, Moon. Bye, Sun. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to wash that lipstick off!”
They weren’t really listening, absolutely high on kisses. For a few hours, they simply rest in the daycare’s storage closet, gushing to each other about you. Well, more Sun than Moon.
Once it was time for Moon to do his rounds around the Pizza Plex, he’d forgotten about the lipstick covering his exoskeleton. It wasn’t until Monty knocked on the glass of his room.
“You having a good night, Moon?” It was like the smirk in Monty’s voice was audible from his voicebox. “Seems like you had a lot of fun.”
Seeing his reflection in the glass, Moon lets out a growl. How could he forget to wash off all this lipstick? “Not a word of this to anyone.” Moon scratched his fingers down the window, leaving marks behind. He turns tail to head back to the daycare and wash the stains off of himself.
Unknowing to the lunar animatronic, Monty had already sent a message to all the other bots.
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porcalinecunt · 1 month
Text
𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋. ♡
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🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thinking about aot men who’d be the softest doms ever . . .
·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍, 𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇, 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍, 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓
cw — fem!reader. size kink (erwin) body worship (jean, levi) praise kink. lots of breedings. edging, fingering, some nipple play (levi) sub!armin (implied)
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : hi hi! it’s been a while since i made an actual post here. apologies! life got busy, but i finally have time to make fics again :D there might be some changes on this account but we’ll see! anyways, please enjoy and feedback is welcomed! 🤍
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➸ jean kirstien.
he’s already so much of a sweetheart, so it’s not shock he’s carry that to the bedroom. he’s needy but slow, as it’d be way too easy to accidentally hurt you. the size difference aroused yet made him a bit nervous. (the first time was quite a hassle!) nonetheless, jean gave you the fuckin’ princess treatment every time the both of you would get intimate. kissing every inch of your body while caressing your hips with his large hands. he’d gently lay your down, not pulling away from the sloppy kiss the two of you are engaging in. did i mention that this man is huge? he adores watching you struggle to take him completely, squirming and whining as he stretches your smaller cunny inch by inch.
“j-jean..’s too big!” you whined, watching through glassy eyes as your boyfriend hovered over you, sinking himself deeper and deeper into your weeping cunt. your legs twitch in a failing attempt to keep them open, something jean would immediately notice. “does it hurt babe?” he asked in a groan, hazel eyes carving holes into yours through hooded lids. you could only shake your head as he took it as a confirmation to bottom himself out. your eyes rolled to your brain and your jaw went slack as jean watched in awe. “look at you..taking it so well f’me.” he sighed, slowly beginning to pump you full as ecstasy filled your senses. the only thing you could hear were jean’s sweet praises, telling you how much of a good little girl you were for taking him so well and patiently. your head grew hot as the feeling of his dick stuffing you full began to overwhelm you. “good little girl, always taking my dick so well..fuck you’re so cute!”
➸ erwin smith.
oh my god. erwin. what more can i say, he’s a gentleman in bed! anything you ask for, he will do without hesitation. want him to knock you up? done. want some head? he’s already on his knees. sad after a rough day? he’ll stuff your cunny full until your filled n happy. anything your heart desires, he’ll give it to you with all the adoration he has for you. ♡ even better when you realize how big he is. how he can easily pick you up and fuck you silly in mid air if he really wanted to. even better, how massive his fucking dick is, enough to make your mouth water just by the thought of it.
“e-erwin!” you whined, watching your husband’s face as he stared down at you. a gaze full of softness and love, a stark contrast to how he was treating you. a smile to his wife while fucking her slutty pussy like an attention deprived whore. “how did i get so lucky? what did i do to deserve such a beautiful girl as my wife..” he breathily chuckled, fucking into you at a slightly faster pace. erwin started down at you, from your flustered smile to your breasts and stuffed cunt, every last detail on you brought him closer to the edge. “good girl..my good girl. you deserve every inch i give you..”
➸ levi ackerman.
contrary to popular belief, levi isn’t the mean and rough dom many make him out to be (still adore that levi tho!) but rather, a gentle and passionate type of dom. he’s not the most romantic, but oh boy, when he is..buckle up. this man will treat you like your his final meal on death row, savoring every inch of flesh you have on your body. kissing you from your lips to your clit, muttering sweet nothings while pumping his slender fingers inside your cunny. he sings his praises when he’s balls deep in you, calling you names like ‘princess’ and ‘darling’, anything that fills your stomach with butterflies if its not his cock. your legs are already trembling from his voice alone, not helping the fact his groans are fuckin’ perfection.
“settle down princess, i barely did a thing.” levi carassed your breast with one hand while finger fucking you with the other. all he needed was two fingers and his wrist as he flicked it with a quickened pace that almost forced your thighs shut from shock and pleasure. while your mouth was closed, tiny whines still manage to spill through as your husband’s thumb moved it’s way to your clit, adding to the overstimulation. with his other hand, he tugged and played with your nipple while letting go just to take a gentle squeeze to your whole breast. you’re thighs shook as your orgasms reaches closer and you grabbed the coller of levi’s loose shirt for support. “‘s becoming too much princess? you wanna cum all over my fingers?” he spoke in a gentle and low tone, making you nod eagerly to his question. “How cute, shit—if only I could do this everyday.”
➸ armin arlot.
armin armin armeeen! <3 you already know what kind of man he is. his partner’s pleasure is a priority he takes very seriously, from letting you choose the position to making sure you orgasm first before he spills his seed inside you. he gives you princess treatment even after sex, not letting up until you knock out from exhaustion. he fucks you like your a goddess, hitting every sensitive spot in your while singing his praises. he wants, no, needs to see you cum around his cock as it’ll make the night worth it. he won’t lie, seeing you whimpering and shamelessly getting off to him servicing you never fails to push him over the edge and nearly fuck a baby in you. this man is a keeper!
“t-this good enough for you..?” armin sighed, watching you take in his dick inch by inch until you’ve completely sat down on it. “y-yeah..fuck you’re huge..!” you whined out, grabbed his thighs and trying your best to move while the overwhelming pleasure had you shaking. the blonde placed his hands on the plush of your hips, firmly holding it as he lifted you up from his cock before slamming you back down on it. a yelp tore from your throat, nails digging into the flesh of his thigh and your eyes screwed shut from the sharp pleasure. “right there! armin fuck..!” you mewl as he guided your hips, slamming his cock in and out of you at the pace you desired the most. his blue eyes peered through his bangs as he grew redder and redder from the expression you wore so beautifully. mouth parted open in an ‘o’ shape with slightly arched eyebrows, pink washed over your face with red sitting right on your cheeks. fuck, he was insatiable. “yes..just like that love, just like you wanted. always taking it like the good girl you are. ♡”
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© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.
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padawansuggest · 4 months
Text
Okay so on Coruscant there are very few people that don’t actually go out into the streets (I’m thinking politicians and Jedi might be some of the few who don’t have to go outside very often if at all because the senate and the temple are both the size of a small city) which means that 1: they NEED to have vitamin D lights on the streets of Coruscant because otherwise everyone would be depressed like in the deepest winter at all times. And 2: that means I think the Jedi temple and the senate themselves also are just full of Vitamin D lights.
Also y’all need to stop writing fics where kids are afraid of ‘getting caught sneaking around after dark’ or something because the temple is literally so full of species that you have no idea of that kid is nocturnal or whatever. They very well could be. Tbh I wanna write a fic where someone catches Obi-Wan sneaking around at night to play a prank with Quin or something and he’s all ‘bruh my eyes glow in the dark I’m obviously meant to be awake at this hour’ and no one can argue with him. Stuff like that.
Also I think the temple neeeeeeeds multiple healing halls (once more. It is the size of a small city) one in the aquatic center of the temple (which canonically exists) one in the temple main (which should span over like four levels and act as it’s own building okay) and one in the creche. This is the MINIMUM amount of healing halls I think they should have.
A tram system should be inside the walls. Places in the temple that act as sideways lifts and also a subway system because believe it or not, there are species in the temple as small as one foot tall, and I’m not just talking about Grogu, I’m talking about others like Kushiban and others similar. Once more. It is the size of a small city. They should have both subway type stations (that take you certain places like the main healing halls or the biggest canteen or the supply sector of the temple things like that) because oh my god imagine how many hours the commute to your workstation could take if you didn’t have that shit. Annoying af.
They gotta have names for all the different canteens okay. Like ‘meet me in the cafeteria’ in a temple the size of a small city is bullshit cause even in the books they have multiple cafeterias.
A… let’s call it a Mall Section of the temple. A place where you can pick up groceries (the temple makes their own food and I assume most of it is cooked in careens but also not letting people cook their own food is a recipe for a Jedi starving to death on a mission lmao) but they also have a salon (skin care and hair care are very important and if you let all these babies cut their own hair they gonna turn out like me no one wants that) and a clothing ‘store’ where you can get certain size clothes and robes from, or even undercover mission clothes. There need to be Jedi in these places too!!! Imagine going to the salon with your master and having a gossip talk about your new lineage member!!! It’s important to society!!!
A Jedi movie theater where the masters send their kiddos on the weekend so they can enjoy a glass of wine and not be sneezed on for three hours.
I’ve actually seen a few mentions in fics and posts about tea salons so that is def also a thing. It’s the Jedi version of a cafe. I think people who like baking take turns working there and everyone chips in for tea selections and stuff.
Droid Ubers. They need to get somewhere but feel sick as heck and it’s not near any good lifts or the subway trams??? Call a droid Uber lmao. It shouldn’t be unusual either lol just grandmaster on his way to bother his kid while not aggravating his hip after hip surgery.
Remember that Jedi who are like 10 foot tall also exist so remember there ARE apartments in the temple that could fit Kenobi’s Dino-Horse girl Boga.
There should also be apartments with like 10 bedrooms and bathrooms (or even one giant communal bathroom) around a singular living/cooking space!!! Let Jedi live in communes!!!!
The aquatic levels of the creche are def the cutest place in the temple you can’t argue with me on the idea of water babies swimming and cuddling under water.
On another note to the fact that species like Kushiban exist???? Imagine tiny doors and corridors that used to be used by mouse droids but they became so useful to tiny Jedi so they got taken over. Just imagine that.
Bartering markets where Jedi trade things, mostly things they get on missions or are given to them as gifts, nothing goes to waste so they find a proper place for all gifts and extras here.
Cooking classes. Obi-Wan has been kicked out of all of them his cooking is so bad. Anakin claims bullshit he loves Master’s cooking! But then, he also eats worms…
Anyways. Y’all too single minded with this shit. It just be all ‘cafeteria, living quarters, healing halls and archives’ with you guys. Where is the culture. Where is the acknowledgment of multiple species all living in the same area taking place in a culture of peace and galactic exploration???? Give them a liquor store idgaf.
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chrollohearttags · 5 months
Text
free smoke • portgas d. ace
content + themes: modern au, black!fem reader (also a firefighter), throat fucking, spit play, hate fucking, breeding, full nelson, spanking, shower sex, backshots, mentions of ovulation and pregnancy, missionary, enemies to lovers-ish, daddy’s used, calls reader a slut, brat taming, squirting
📝: firefighter ace is on my mind so enjoy my depravity until I put a proper fic out. (I’m like a sick dog in heat for this man omg) this is like pure filth, look away if it’s not your thing or if you still have a bedtime. In other words, minors, piss off.
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friends…it’d be the last word you’d ever use to describe the relationship between yourself and Portgas D. Ace. Despite working together day in and day out, fighting side by side to save lives regardless of your own safety and practically living underneath the same roof..you couldn’t stand him! Perhaps, even that was being a bit generous. You hated his guts. Granted, he was the man that you received all of your orders from at Fire Company Eight as he was the Vice Fire Captain and you were merely a rookie firefighter; having only joined the five man crew only a year and a half prior.
“Hey, rookie. Grab those boxes from over there and bring them upstairs.”
oh how you despised the moniker..a reminder of his superiority and ranking over you. Sure, he didn’t purposely wave it over your head like some proverbial flag but he certainly didn’t downplay either. He knew how much it ruffled your feathers so he’d repeat it in hopes of getting you agitated and riled up. Almost like clockwork, it done the trick everytime! “I have a name. Why don’t you try using it, asshole..” Oftentimes scoffing over your shoulder with cut eyes and a nasty glare. Even so, with much vitriol and vengeance in your heart, you’d follow his commands. It was no secret among the entire firehouse that you two were sworn enemies..or rather, he was on the receiving end of a one sided grudge. All beginning when you first started here and he treated you as if you were dumb. And it didn’t help that you were the only woman here. Despite graduating top of your class at fire college. The best scores, highest evaluations…none of it meant a thing to him! Your biggest issue with him was that carefree, lackadaisical attitude. Put simply, he was a jackass! He didn’t care about much including someone’s hurt feelings. Especially when he hadn’t done anything except his job. The way he saw it, until you surpassed him in rank, you could get glad in the same damn drawers you got mad in. “I suggest you watch that fucking mouth if you know what’s good for you..”
a warning you’d certainly heed once the rest of the crew heads out on a grocery run. Knowing that they’d be out for at least two hours, stocking up on food and toiletry items for everyone, that left the vice chief ample time to teach you a lesson. He knew your little charade was nothing more than show for the others because the second they were out that door, leaving you two alone, you were both in the shower..relieving those rising tensions..
“Open…there you go—see, you can follow instructions.”
“Fuck you—“
the words spewing like venom shortly before he gags you get again. The steamy droplets of warm water cascading over your nude bodies as they collide in the stand in bath. Your so called sworn enemy cuffing your wrists with one hand as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. His hard cock sliding between your plump lips and silky jaws, drumming up strings of spit..along with loud gagging sounds. All while his six foot four frame stood above you. Only muted by the downpour from the shower head as you sat fatefully on your knees, being used to his leisure. You may have been pretending to be angry and talking all recklessly but he could tell that you were enjoying this just as much as he was. Ace wasn’t fooled by your tough exterior the way everyone else was. Because he knew the one thing you needed above all else..was a good fuck. To be slutted out beyond comprehension; to have so many orgasms, you won’t even have the energy to be a bitch. And who better than to give you the treatment than your beloved boss? Hell, he had done it before. Many times in fact and although it didn’t shut you up for good, the satisfaction of seeing you sprawled and fucked out with his cum inside of you was enough consolation!
Ooh…fuck. You know something, rookie? I think you should’ve took a career in acting instead. Pretending to hate me in front of everyone else but sucking me off in the shower..you’re a strange girl.”
interrupting his praise to lob more saliva into your mouth in the form of a long string. Only to resume his rapid assault of your throat. Taking it all the way to the base..allowing his balls to slap your chin and his abs to brush your forehead, holding it in place until he saw fit. Taking full advantage of your nonexistent gag reflex. He’d withdraw to be met with your messy face and rewarded you with a kiss amid your heavy gasping. Even after working your mouth over and feeding you a couple faint slaps, you still had plenty to say! “Who said I was pretending? I still can’t stand you.” Which was all fine in theory but again, he wasn’t paying your ass any mind. Rather, he wanted to make use of this free time that you were granted and fuck the shit out of you. Tugging you by your arms, Ace swiftly spun you around so that your thick backside was pressed to his pelvis. He didn’t hesitate to impale you on his cock and begin feeding you deep seeded strokes. Your back bent and frame curved into a S shape as he pulled you back by your wrists..the recoil of your plush flesh bouncing against his own and sounding off. That sopping little cunt seeping with cream and slick each time he pounded into you. Ensuring you couldn’t move unless he granted so.
“You sure about that? Could’ve had me fooled, sweetheart…this pussy’s so wet f’r me, I can barely stay in it..”
drumming up a sheath of sticky membrane and more of your beautiful moans. Even drudging up some of his own. Ace would toss his head back and try not to focus too much on the ripple of your plump ass swallowing him whole. He loved the sound, the contrast..he loved how good you felt for him! “Fuuck! Fuck me…oh my gosh..just keep giving me that dick and shut the hell up.”blurting out and whimpering for him without a single thought. His fingers intertwine and clutch around your throat; bringing you back when you tried to run. Seeing as your hair was covered by the silk bonnet atop to your head. “Shit…ain’t gotta tell me twice….so sexy when you talk to me like that.” Spinning you around to kiss once more. Mirroring that of lovers moreso than a couple of people who were just arguing. The collision of skin and loins making it difficult for either of you to conceal your true feeling. Clawing at the tile walls, (y/n) cried out yet again and begged for him to go deeper. Even holding it open once he freed your hands. “That’s right, spread that ass…let me get in it..” grunting into your shoulder blade before forcing you back down. He wasn’t showing you any mercy. Smacking and spanking your cheeks rigorously..leaving stinging marks. “That feel good? Am I in it?..” “..yes, daddy. In my fucking spot..oh my God!” Bringing forth a hearty laugh and lewd feelings from your vice chief. “Daddy, huh? I was an asshole not too long ago. Wonder what changed.” Either way, he loved hearing it come from your mouth!
“C’mere..grab me.” In a moment of haste, the dark haired, dreamy eyed man would twist the faucet off to cease the shower and instruct you to wrap your limbs around him. Which you did so, seeing as how your legs couldn’t stop trembling. He had already worn a sore spot into the pit of your tummy but he was far from finished. Not when he was still throbbing profusely; leaking from that swollen tip when he pulls out of you. However, that doesn’t last long as he’s got to be one with you yet again. The two of you would shuffle back towards the bunk cabins, where two beds resided on each side; one atop the other. For convenience, he’d take the bottom one but not before pounding you all the way there. Hoisting you up midair and slamming you back down on his cock with sheer strength. Your nails digging ferociously into the giant piece of ink on his back; those clear, manicured nails scraping at his tattoo and he was loving every second. “Right there! Fuck!…gonna come..” whimpering into his ear as your face cradled into the crook of his neck. He knew it was a lot, it always but you took it so well..better than any other girl he’d ever fucked. You wrapped around him as if you never wanted him to let go.
“Damn..you’re close, aren’t you, baby? I can feel it..” whispering into your ear as he placed a kiss to your temple as a means to quell your quivering body. That ecstasy was hitting your body like a freight truck and there was no greater sensation. Bringing you to the mattress, Ace maintained his grip on your legs before standing straight back up and letting another line of spit lubricate your folds already sopping folds. Just to really get you shaking, he’d tap that shaft against them before gliding back in. Something about staring into your eyes whilst deep inside of that heat, was so much more raw and intense. You couldn’t hide or pretend anymore. He saw every emotion all over your face. Especially when those strokes were so rhythmic and beautiful, each one connected to your spot. Stroking that sensitive clit, Ace sucked his teeth and kept pushing forth, prompting you to take over holding your calves so that he could give you the brutal fucking you so desperately craved!
“Yeah..take it. Take this fucking dick..you little slut!” Bearing his entire weight down and through gritted teeth, Ace pounded your pussy until the bed frame underneath you was rocking back and forth. Fucking you with his hands cusping your throat. He knew how much it turned you on; apparent by the rampant twitches against his shaft. You’d claw at his wrists as he kept going…taunting you and talking his shit the entire time. He knew he had you exactly where he wanted and wasn’t going to let up until his abs and the floor was left a soaking mess. That deep voice causing pangs in the bottom of your stomach when he yelled at you. Hastily shoving his tongue back into your mouth, the vice captain kept going..despite running on the last of his energy, he’d find himself balls deep in you; practically hurled into a mating press now. Still, he wasn’t stopping until you emptied that sack for him and took every last bit of his nut. And you weren’t too far behind..delirium and cock drunkenness was setting in pretty heavily and you wanted to come for him so badly. Despite not wanting to cave. Hell, he was ducking you down so good, you were ready live in his skin and cook him breakfast! Repeatedly slamming into that core and making you cream for him immensely. Not to mention how erect your nipples were..you were sensitive and by the tears streaming down your face, that let him know one fact:
“Ooh..somebody must be ovulating. No wonder you’ve been such a mess, rookie. You just needed someone to come take care of you, huh?”
cooing to you in a manner that made it impossible to resist his charm. Sticking a thumb between your lips to pacify you, he’d get inside of your head..playing on your insecurities and talking you through those feelings. He could always tell when you were in that mood and when that time of month was near. Either you’d be in the foulest of moods and no one could bother you or you’d pick a fight with him just so he could give you some dick. It was almost like clockwork but he’d give in every single time. How a man that you despised knew you better than any partner you’d ever had was beyond words. Holding your face close, he’d cradle you in his palms and let your gazes meet one last time. When he saw your eyes, they were welled full of tears and brimming with lust. His theory was absolutely correct!
“I know, I know. Just breathe..” talking you through that inevitable orgasm. He’d calm you with reassuring words, kisses to your forehead and regressed strokes. Slowing down so he could meet you right there and you guys could come together. “Same time, okay? You and me.” He’d bog down and hone in for the last minute or so, knowing his climax was growing near. That tip prodded and swollen beyond relief as it oozed precum. Leaking and begging to burst. His full, heavy balls smacking against your asshole with a layer of sticky liquid between them. Clutching the backs of his thighs, (y/n) held him in place, begging for him to fill you to the brim. “Fuck! Just come in me.” And with that command, for the first time in ever..he’d follow. Releasing his load and lobbing yet another sloppy peck. One that lasted far longer than the rest. That warm seed spilling into you as he attempted to muffle his own cries. This was pure heaven if he’d ever experienced it. Your hands scaling his back and your limbs fully coiled around him as if you never wanted to let go.
“God, I swear you’re nothing but trouble, rookie. What am I gonna do with you?”
heavily huffing whilst examining your face. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Caressing the side of his face with a gentle hand, you’d bat those beautiful eyelashes before bopping his nose with the tip of your finger. “Well you can start by getting me a Plan B, Mr. Weak Ass Pull Out Game.” Immediately sending him into hysterics. “Shut up, like you weren’t begging for it..damn brat.” The two of you would joke around and cackle as if everything was just peachy between the two of you. Knowing you’d go right back to being sworn enemies. Just then, the sound of footsteps and doors unlocking sounded off from downstairs. Maybe one day you’d settle your differences for real. “Our little secret?” “Of course.”
but for now, it was much more fun to pretend!
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@hobiesrockstargf
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riiwrites · 8 months
Note
Can I request dazai confessing his feelings to reader and reader doesn’t believe he’s being serious? Thank you 💕
seriously. - d. osamu
a/n : ofc anon! tysm for your request! <3 i apologise if it isn’t good writing. this is my first full fic but I really do hope you enjoy it 💗
genre : fluff
warnings : none
wc : 1k
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If you had to describe Dazai Osamu with a few words, it certainly wouldn’t be earnest.
He just wasn’t known to be that serious kind of man, you knew that of course. You’ve been working alongside him for as long as you can remember and all you seemed to get from him was just incompetent behaviour.
You have never once in your whole life of working at the agency seen Dazai be or at least try to be serious, at least not with you.
His way of communicating with you would always end up with him initiating a flirty gesture or phrasing something poetic about your ethereal beauty. Although you didn’t mind it, a part of you wondered if what he was saying was actually true.
“You’re oblivious, you know that right?” Ranpo said, eating away and interrupting your rant about the whole situation between you and Dazai.
“He is in love with you.” He continued.
“He may not act serious but trust me, the eyes don’t lie.”
He wasn’t wrong, he’s Ranpo. He was never wrong and with the way Dazai looked at you when he thought you weren’t was truly something.
But still, you just couldn’t believe it, you couldn’t believe Dazai would actually be serious about loving you, it was all just fun and games after all, right?
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It was quite a lonely night for you back at the agency. Everyone had clocked out for the night and you were filling in some leftover paperwork that had to be done for the week and then you’d be finished.
As you were too zoned in on the sound of your own pencil scribbling the paper you didn’t seem to hear the tiny creak of the door behind you slowly opening up.
Dazai slowly peaked through the door, spotting you and entered your working space, being gentle with his movements as to not get your attention just yet.
He slowly stepped forward— practically tiptoeing his way towards you from behind, eventually placing his hands on your shoulder before whispering.
“Whatcha doing, Bella?~”
It took a quick second for your heart to skip a beat when you heard that specific nickname only one person called you. You snapped out of your focus before swiftly turning around to him with a sigh of relief when you can confirm it’s just him.
“Dazai..”
You let out another exhale of relief. “You scared me there.”
You added on with a small smile to your face, a pink hue slightly tinting your cheeks as you tried to adjust yourself from the sudden change of scenery in-front of you as you hadn’t moved out of your chair for what seemed like hours.
“Aw, my apologies Y/N! Just wanted to check up on you, you’ve been glued to that desk for the past few hours y’know~” he teased, basically confirming that theory as he took his hands off your shoulders and walked over next to you, propping himself up to sit on the desk you were currently working at.
“Well, i guess I’ve just been pretty busy.” You replied, spinning back around in your chair to take a look at him once again, scratching the back of your head sheepishly.
“Why don’t you come on a walk with me? Clear that pretty little head of yours?”
He had that mischievous wide smirk on his face that you had always noticed. You would constantly take note of the tiniest things about his features that you just absolutely adored about him. The pink hue on your face became more visible as he spoke, word after word it made your face practically glow with pink. After a few seconds of contemplating wherever or not to say yes to his suggestion, you sighed as you look back at your paperwork and then back at him with a slight smile before replying.
“Sure then, let’s go.”
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The walk was beyond peaceful surprisingly enough. Dazai was walking alongside you with his two hands behind his head, taking small glances at your expression as you looked up at the stars, seeming so in awe with them.
“You like them?”
He leaned forward with a smile as he tried to get a more clear look of your facial features, taking every little detail in. There was a long pause before your answer as you nodded slowly, admiring it all.
“Yeah, they’re beautiful.” You said in response.
Dazai took in how soft your voice was, how gentle your facial expressions were as you stare in admiration at the sparkling dots in the sky. He took a sharp breath before saying something else in reply.
“You’re breathtaking, you know that right?
You paused for a moment, still staring at the midnight sky as you then turned to him with a playful smirk, rolling your eyes to his flirting.
“Thank you, Dazai.” You replied sarcastically, expecting another one of his flirtatious and foolish remarks.
“No, Y/N listen to me.”
He took his hands off his head and stood in-front of you, taking your hands into his own whilst staring at you with such a fond expression.
“You are- absolutely breathtaking.” He repeated his words once more, waiting for a response.
You took a few seconds again, confused as to what was happening and thinking it was just Dazai playing tricks on you once again.
“I- thank—“ you tried but before you could’ve even gave a response back, he just blurts it out within an instant.
“I love you, Y/N.”
There was a long silence shared amongst the two of you, the only thing heard was the wind bristling against the trees and a few cars bypassing. You were the one to first break the silence, not by speaking, but by literally laughing.
Dazai stood there stunned for a moment, letting go of your hands with a look of confusion riddled across his face as you hugged your chest, laughing hysterically.
“Oh- ahah! Oh Dazai you are- so remarkably funny!” You gasped out in between laughs, absolutely losing yourself.
“W-what..? Y/N what are you talking about?” He asked, a look of concern also struck on his face.
There was suddenly another long pause when you eventually stopped laughing as soon as he said that. Your sudden wide eyes shot up to look at his sort of hurt expression and you tilt your head.
“You- were joking were you not?”
“No?”
Well now you looked like a complete fool.
You took a few steps back, processing this and just refused to believe it.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Y/N I’m serious.”
God, even just the word ‘serious’ rolling off his tongue felt so wrong but oh, just the way he looked at you with that genuine expression had you weak in the knees and second guessing everything for a moment.
“Do you not see the way I look at you? God, Y/N I’m so in love with you I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
He stared at you with his beautiful brown eyes piercing through you like bullets, not breaking any eye contact whatsoever. You felt a cold shiver run down you, although it could’ve been the gust of wind, you didn’t give it a second thought before responding.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
He replied within an instant, seeming so sure about that.
“You own my heart L/N.”
That statement sure was bold and you absolutely adored it, you adored him.
You took a step forward, taking his hands into your own and smiling down at the sight, intertwining your fingers with his and gave him a soft smile as you tilted your head up.
“You own my heart too Osamu.”
Once you replied, Dazai had to take a breather, letting go of the breath he had currently held in for about a whole minute of waiting for you to reply with something not so negative.
“Whew! Y/N don’t leave me on a hanger like that ever again- that was seriously wounding.”
He said, chuckling nervously but smoothly covered it up with a composed expression on his face.
He’s secretly dying on the inside though.
He moved his hand forward pulling you closer to him, embracing you tightly and wrapping his arms around you fully, looking up at the sky like you had done. Once you pulled away from the tight embrace you looked up at the brunettes face as if you were analysing something about him. he glanced right back at you.
“What?” He asked, quirking his eyebrow up in question.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you be so serious..” You admitted.
“What?!" He gasped dramatically, placing his hand on his heart, acting as if you’ve wounded him.
“Absurd! I’ve been serious more times than you can even count!”
He huffs. You cocked your eyebrow up at him in response.
“I mean, if that’s what helps you sleep at night.”
You began to smirk and glanced back up at the stars. He then let out a dramatic exhale before returning the same smirk you had on your face.
“Don’t make me take back my words, dear!"
There it was again. The same unserious mischievous scheming bastard of a man who somehow stole your precious heart.
Who knew a man like him could actually be so serious?
Damn, you owed Ranpo so much money.
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corrodedhawkins · 1 year
Text
Withdrawal: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Follow up to Prozac
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Content warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), language, oral (f!receiving), fingering, crying (non-sexual this time), Eddie being a very supportive but also very horny boyfriend, multiple orgasms and praise.
This fic deals with mental health, mental health medication, withdrawing from medication, the possible side effects of these medications, including sexual dysfunction and the shame that can come with them. Please skip this if any of these things are triggering for you.
Authors note: this is inspired by me finally getting off of my SSRI and being able to feel my clit for the first time in five years. We’re celebrating
After years of being on an SSRI and attending weekly sessions, your therapist thought you had made enough progress to taper you off of your Prozac and onto an NDRI with less side effects. They had warned you the withdrawal process would be difficult, but nothing could have prepared you for what hell the next few weeks would be.
Your emotions were all over the place, and you found yourself screaming one minute then bursting into tears the next. The brain zaps were horrible, jolts of electricity shocking you so suddenly you nearly doubled over every time.
Eddie, bless him, had been a saint through the whole process. He let you scream and cry, and when you were done, he’d scoop you up into his lap and you’d fall asleep against his chest, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster.
He would stop at the store on the way home to grab your favorite ice cream, candy bar, or anything else he thought could make you smile. You had to admit, it was hard to be upset when Eddie was shoving a bag full of chocolate, bubble bath, candles and a book into your arms as he ushered you into the bathroom.
Three weeks into withdrawal you finally start to feel better, your emotions much more stable with only the occasional brain zap. As supportive as Eddie had been, he missed being intimate with you. The second he was sure you were feeling better, he practically shoved you down onto the mattress. He crawls between your legs, whispering a, “missed you”, to your pussy before diving in.
Your snort of amusement turns into a cry of pleasure as you feel Eddie’s tongue lap at your clit.
“Holy fuck”, you stare down at him, propping yourself up onto your elbows. “Wha-what are you doing?”, you gape.
Eddie lifts his head from between your thighs, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “Eating your pussy?”, he answers slowly, tone questioning.
“No shit”, you slap at his shoulder weakly. “I mean, what are you doing differently? Feels really good.”
He ducks back down to mouth at your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth as his tongue swirls around it. You feel him smirk against you when your hips jolt, hand flying to bury your fingers into his hair.
“You mean this?”, he asks before diving back in and sucking harshly at your clit. His big hands grab your hips to keep you still, pinning you to the mattress.
“Hah-yes. D-don’t know where you learned that but it’s good.”
As much as he loves seeing you enjoy yourself, his confusions wins out. “Baby”, he murmurs as he kisses your inner thighs, his day-old stubble scraping against the sensitive skin. “M’not doing anything differently. This is what I always do. Want me to keep going?”
“Please”, you breathe.
You feel him nod against you as he peppers kisses from your inner thighs to your slit, tongue darting out to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit.
“Ohmyfuckinggod”, you yelp, throwing your legs over his shoulders for leverage. You buck up as much as you can in his hold, grinding Eddie’s nose into your clit as he laps up the slick dripping from your hole to the sheets below.
“Can I have your fingers? Please?”, you whine pathetically as Eddie reaches up to shove two fingers into your mouth. You immediately suck on them, getting them nice and wet.
With one last swirl of his tongue against you, he pulls his fingers from your mouth and taps them against your hole. “This what you want?”
“Yes”, you cry, a little louder than you meant to.
Eddie chuckles, placing a kiss to the inside of your knee. “S’okay, I got you.”
His fingers inside of you is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. They drag against your g-spot, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine, your thoughts a mess of “whatthefuckwhatthefuck”.
The usually elusive orgasm builds quickly, one hand tangled in his curls as the other grips the sheets below. “Please don’t stop”, you beg.
“Not stopping”, he promises, thumb reaching up to swirl circles around your clit as he speaks. “I can feel how close you are, sweetheart. You gonna cum for me?”
All you can do is nod frantically, hand tightening against his scalp.
His mouth replaces his thumb on your clit, keeping the hard but steady pace of his fingers curling up against your g-spot.
It only takes seconds before you’re crying out, muscles seizing before you’re shaking apart as you cum against his tongue.
Sagging back against the pillows, you ride out your orgasm until you’re overstimulated, shoving his head away as you catch your breath.
“Good?”, Eddie smirks, biting playfully at your thigh.
You stare at him for a moment before it hits you. “No way, no fucking way.” Your hands come up to cover your face, the realization making your stomach flip.
“What? What is it?”, Eddie’s on you in an instant, pulling your hands away from your face to get a good look at you. “Baby, talk to me.” His eyes flick over your features, desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong.
The tears you’ve been holding back fall as the care in his tone hits you. “That’s what I’ve been missing?”, you practically wail.
Eddie reaches up to wipe the tears from your face, a look of genuine bafflement etching features. “Huh?”
With a huff, you sit up and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I just came in less than two minutes, Eddie. Two minutes.” Two fingers are thrust against his chest to emphasize your point. “And I felt everything. Nothing felt numb or dull. It’s like my clit just woke up from a thousand year slumber.”
He snorts at that, biting his lip when you shoot him a glare. “Isn’t…isn’t that a good thing?”, he asks timidly.
“Of course it is”, you try to take a deep breath and fail, the tears coming back before you can stop them. “It’s great, but now all I can think about is how I‘be been cheated out of that with you because of my meds”, you sniffle. “I’d been on it so long I didn’t even remember I could feel like that.”
“Baby”, Eddie sighs, his heart breaking for you as he wraps you in his arms, your head resting in the crook of his neck. “M’so sorry you spent so long like that. Please don’t cry.”
“Can’t help it”, you mumble, burying your face back against his shoulder.
His hand rubs over your back soothingly, waiting for you to to settle before he speaks. “Y’know, I think you’re looking at this entirely the wrong way.” Eddie pulls back and tilts your chin up to look at him.
“Hear me out”, he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear and leans in close. “If the way you were flailing around like you were possessed is any indication, I think it was pretty good for you?”
“You’re exaggerating”, you turn your attention to his hands, fiddling with the ring on his middle finger, twisting it back and forth.
“Mhm no baby, I’m not. I almost called a priest. Got a little worried we needed an exorcism.” He presses a quick kiss to your temple as you giggle, relieved he can make you feel a little better.
“And if it felt that good”, he continues, voice dropping a few octaves. He knows what that tone does to you, the bastard. “And you came that quickly, imagine how good it would feel if I laid you out and took my time with you, pulled out every trick I know. Imagine how many times I could make you cum.”
You can hear the smirk in his tone as his hand snakes down your body, thumb swirling deliciously slowly around your clit.
A shaky breath rushes out of you, the feeling of your clit starting to throb again startling you. If you were lucky, you came once, unable to even think about a second orgasm. Apparently, things had changed.
Eddie nuzzles into your neck, sucking kisses to the exposed skin, his thumb picking up speed. “Think you can go again?”
He chuckles against your skin when you immediately nod. “Are you gonna be a good girl and let me do whatever I want with you?”
You made a mental note to send your therapist a fruit basket as you came for the third time that night.
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diorsbrando · 12 days
Text
I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )
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sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.
cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).
word count ━━ 11k
notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!
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THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.
It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.
Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.
Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.
The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.
His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.
Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.
Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.
Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.
Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.
So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.
But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.
Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.
With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.
Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.
But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.
Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.
After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.
When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.
But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.
Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.
You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.
The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."
"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.
The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.
"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."
You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."
You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.
"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"
You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."
Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.
"Shall we be on our way?"
You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.
Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.
But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.
After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."
Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”
The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”
You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.
"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"
He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"
You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.
A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."
The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.
You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.
"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"
"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"
You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."
The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"
With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .
"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.
Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.
You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.
The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.
"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.
The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.
“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.
It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.
A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”
The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.
The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.
“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.
The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.
Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.
But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.
He seemed . . . . closer.
“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."
Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.
The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.
"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."
You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.
"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.
You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.
Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?
The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.
"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."
"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?
Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .
"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."
Wait, what did he just━
Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.
But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.
It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.
It was blood.
Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.
Aizen's blade.
"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."
You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.
You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "
A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.
Fuck....was this really happening?
"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."
'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.
The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.
Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.
As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.
Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.
A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.
What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.
Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.
"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "
"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."
All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.
You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.
There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.
That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.
It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.
The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.
" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.
There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."
The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.
His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.
This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .
Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.
"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"
Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.
"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."
A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.
It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.
The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"
The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.
" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."
At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.
"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.
The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."
You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.
Which reminded you of something else.
" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.
Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.
You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.
"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"
The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━
A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.
Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .
Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.
Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.
It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.
And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.
Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.
Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.
"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.
"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."
Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.
You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.
But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.
This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.
"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.
Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.
And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.
That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.
They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.
The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.
And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.
Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.
And yet.
He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.
It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.
━━━━━━ 鏡  ━━━━━━━
It was dark, and there was nothing.
There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.
He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.
Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.
Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.
Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.
And yet, here he ended up.
Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.
Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.
The thrill of a challenge.
Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.
It made him feel alive.
Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.
All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.
As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.
Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.
Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.
These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.
Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.
Or at least, that's what he thought.
Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.
Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'
Aizen found amusement in that.
Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."
There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.
But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.
The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.
What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.
The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.
His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.
After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.
This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.
Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.
Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.
His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.
And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.
When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.
Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.
How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.
But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.
Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.
What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.
The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.
Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.
He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.
So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━
"Y....know, S....."
Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?
It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.
One drop at a time.
Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.
"You...know.....Sōsuke."
In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.
That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.
Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.
"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.
Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.
An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.
A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.
Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.
"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."
The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.
He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.
"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"
Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"
Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.
"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."
Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.
"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.
With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.
"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?
Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.
"I called you here to save you from yourself."
Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"
"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."
Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.
His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?
"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."
"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."
The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.
Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.
"You regret . . . killing me."
A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.
Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.
The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."
Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.
The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.
He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.
Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.
"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."
Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.
He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.
Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"
Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.
Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.
Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."
Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.
Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.
And they loved it.
"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."
Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.
"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"
Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.
Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."
The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.
Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.
The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .
As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.
Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.
The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.
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(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.
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d1xonss · 1 month
Note
heyyy went thru all your masterlist (reader one) and fell inlove with your fics i was wondering if you can write something like grumpy!daryl x sunshine!reader ykwim? like they complete eachother (::
Sunshine
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Season 10
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : Fluff
✧ Word Count : 2.1k
AN ~ Ahhh thank you so much for reading, it truly means so much! I’m always down to write this type of stuff, I think it’s so cute:)) I appreciate the request and hope you enjoy! ps- I thought this was a super cute thing to post for Valentine's Day💋
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It was quiet, peaceful inside your home as you busied yourself around the space. It was a nice hot summer day, and you felt quite accomplished with the amount of things you had gotten done in just the span of a few hours. You tended to your garden full of colorful flowers, made a trip to the pantry to pick up a few things you were running low on, cleaned and tidied up the house, the list really went on and on. But the truth was you loved doing things like this, it almost tricked you into believing that life outside the gates was normal again. Even though you knew it wasn’t, it was still nice to pretend from time to time.
Currently, you busied yourself with making some of your famous homemade brownies, something you found you hadn’t made in quite some time. With everything going on lately, it was hard to find the time to do the things you loved most, which was in fact, to bake. But now that everything had died down for the most part, you quickly hopped back onto the opportunity. Whether it was cake, cookies, or some kind of bread, you always found life to be a little bit better with something sweet.
But you weren’t just making these brownies for yourself, in fact, whenever you whipped something up it was never just for you. It was also for your husband Daryl whom you adored more than anything else in this world, the man constantly making you happier with each passing day. And he loved you just as much if not more, and he especially loved being your taste tester whenever you tried out a new recipe. The first time you had called him that, he just scoffed and shook his head as if what you said was something stupid. But you could see that small smirk he had on his face afterwards, silently telling you that he actually loved the little job you assigned, though he would never admit it out loud.
You hummed to yourself quietly as you began to mix the dry and wet ingredients together, swaying your hips a little to the soft song playing in the background. Recently you had found a record player on a run and you were over the moon excited to use it, missing music from the world before. And although you hadn’t found the best records in the world to listen to, you thought almost anything was better than the quiet. The most you had found were a few country albums which weren't in your top favorite genres for sure, but you had to admit it was growing on you the smallest bit. With the way you danced along, it was hard to deny.
Your head then suddenly snapped up when you heard the sound of the front door opening, a smile being brought to your face as you already knew who it was. He was a little loud upon entering your shared house, dropping his crossbow on the table with a loud smack, huffing and puffing as he entered the living room without a word. Your smile dropped a little, usually he would call out to you to announce that he was home, but clearly today was not one of those days. He was in a mood, and you knew you would have to cheer him up.
Although Daryl was perfect to you in every way, he was a pretty grumpy man from time to time when things didn’t work out or go the way he planned. The littlest things could completely ruin his demeanor for the rest of the day at times. He would hold onto it, rant about it constantly while it was on his mind, even though most of the time it was something that he couldn’t change. But you assumed that’s what frustrated him the most. And this was no different, hearing him sigh heavily in the other room as he plopped down on the sofa. 
But the best thing about you, was that at the end of the day, you always found a way to make him feel better.
You discarded the mixing spoon that was in your hand, moving out of the kitchen and towards the living room in an attempt to see what was bothering him. But once you caught sight of him whilst lingering in the doorway of the space, you sighed quietly upon seeing how he held his face in his hands, slumped over the side of the couch. You could tell he was irritated and that something had happened today while he was out, but it was nothing that you couldn’t fix. And you figured the brownies would help too.
So you finally pushed yourself forward to enter the room, softly sitting down next to him as you raised your hand up to squeeze his shoulder lightly. “Hi sweetie.” you greeted softly.
But he didn’t respond. He didn’t even raise his head up to look you in the eye. The most he did was grunt, and even you didn’t know in that moment if it was directed towards you or not.
You eyed him for a moment before speaking again, “How was your day?” you asked gently while rubbing his shoulder up and down now.
Still nothing. Damn he was a tough one to crack today. But you knew he couldn’t resist you for very long, even if today was the worst day of his life, he always came around for you. Always.
Upon not getting a verbal response, you leaned further into him and began to trail a few quick kisses on the side of his head, to which he scoffed and scooted away from. “Come on woman, m’ not in the mood.” he grumbled as he finally looked up from the floor.
“He speaks.” you said as you raised your hands up in victory, your actions causing him to scoff with a roll of his eyes. Acting as if you were the dramatic one here. “What happened?” you asked with a tilted head.
He blew out a breath of air, “Nothin.”
“Mhm…” you trailed off sarcastically with a nod, “Nothing…”
He was silent for a long moment, nearly minutes passing by, before he blew another harsh breath out as he leaned back against the couch. “We lost all those damn supplies on that run we took today, walkers just came outta nowhere and we didn’t have time to stick around. Negan’s getting on my fuckin nerves all the damn time, spittin out the same bullshit I’ve heard a hundred fuckin times before. And my bike broke down on the way back, don’t even know if I can fix it.”
If someone was looking at this from an outside perspective, seeing the amount he just unleashed while you sat there with a small smile on your face, their jaw would probably be on the floor. How you hardly reacted at all, how he was so harsh with the way he spoke, you were sure it would look questionable to anyone who didn’t truly know the two of you, or your dynamic. But the truth was, you had heard this similar song and dance about a hundred different times before, knowing he just needed to get everything off his chest and blow off some steam. And you knew after saying it all out loud, along with a little comfort, he would see that everything would be alright in the end.
Your lip stuck out in a pout as you looked at him, “Oh, my poor baby.” you said dramatically as you pulled him back into you, placing your lips on his cheek to kiss him there multiple times as he let out a heavy and annoyed sigh.
“Stop.” he protested, yet made no attempts to pull away from your affection. In fact, you swore you almost felt him lean in further.
You giggled against his skin as you pulled away far enough to look him in the eye, “I’m sorry you had a rough day.” you spoke seriously now as you stroked the side of his face, “But it’ll be okay…everything will work itself out.”
He scoffed quietly at your words, “Ya always say that.”
“And I’m always right.” you said as you leaned in to place another kiss on his cheek, “Remember when you came back from a hunt that one time with nothing, and you were all grumpy about it? What happened the next day?”
He glanced over to you for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh, “Found three deers…” he grumbled.
“Right.” you said as you moved to give his arm a soft squeeze, “You worry way too much over this kind of stuff, just breathe. Relax. It’s all going to be fine.”
His expression softened drastically after you talked to him, kind and gentle as always, wordlessly leaning into you and wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tight. You laughed lightly as you hugged him back, stroking the back of his hair soothingly as you felt him exhale deeply. Taking a breath like you advised.
“M’ sorry.” he muttered suddenly after a few moments of silence.
Your brows furrowed a little in confusion, “For what, honey?”
“For dumpin this shit on ya all the time…” he clarified as he squeezed you tighter, “Ya don’t deserve that…hearin me bitch-”
“Hey.” you cut him off as you pulled away, taking his face in your hands, “That’s what I’m here for, to listen. I’m honored to be the one you go to when you need to rant about something, and I’m even more honored that I’m the one who gets to make you feel better. That’s certainly not something to be sorry for, okay?”
His lip turned up in a small smile as he took your hands from his face, kissing your palm lightly as he looked at you with soft eyes, “I don’t deserve ya.”
You shushed him instantly with a shake of your head, “Yes you do.” you assured, before your mind trailed off a little in realization which caused a small smile to form on your face, “But…I do think I have something else that’ll make you feel better. Maybe even better than I can.”
He scoffed with a growing smile, “Well, I highly doubt that…but go on…” he said as his interest clearly piqued.
“Well…I just so happen to have some brownie batter in the kitchen with your name on it.” you said as you raised your eyebrows.
His eyes widened the smallest bit in clear excitement before glancing out the doorway, clearly itching to rush into the kitchen now, “Ya haven’t even baked em yet..?”
You shook your head with a smile, “Nope…I’ll even let you lick the spoon.” you said, knowing that was his favorite part.
His smile only grew then as there seemed to be a sparkle in his eye, like a kid in a giant candy store. The two of you then ventured back toward the kitchen where the music was still playing softly, getting the batter ready to be put into the pan to bake. But of course, he took the spoon from you almost instantly when you were done using it, licking the entire thing completely clean as if he couldn’t get enough. Though he felt he had to tease you just a little bit, taking a small dollop from the utensil on his finger before bringing it to the tip of your nose with a “boop.” 
You knew then and there that his mind was far from the events earlier that day, now enjoying his time he had with you as he looked at you as if you were a bright ball of sunshine after a rainy day. The sunshine that he desperately needed in his life.
But then the time came. The oven had beeped and you had pulled the brownies out of the oven to cool before cutting them, topping it off with some powdered sugar before your taste tester gave his honest feedback. He took a corner piece, which were his favorite, and took a large bite of the chocolate goodness while you looked at him in anticipation.
“Well..?” 
He said nothing, his eyes rolled back and a groan left his lips as he savored the sweetness on his tongue, and that was the only answer you needed. You smiled brightly as you clapped to yourself, his signs of approval proving that you were only getting better with the hobby you loved to do.
“Dunno how ya do it,” he commented before shoving the rest of the brownie in his mouth, “They just get better and better.” he said with his mouth full.
You smiled proudly as you began to grab a piece for yourself, “Well it’s a good thing I have my taste tester to give me all the feedback I need.”
Normally he would roll his eyes at the continuous nickname you bestowed upon him, but not today. He only smiled with a nod, bringing you in to leave a dramatic kiss on your cheek, pulling away with a loud “muah.”
“I’ll always be here ta taste whatever ya want sunshine.” he promised. 
And you believed him completely.
~ Thanks for reading!
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toomuchracket · 4 months
Text
on the bed in my room (d word matty x reader smut)
alternatively titled bejeweled (for @think0fmehigh only), or the butt plug fic. as you can imagine, it's fucking filthy, but also very sweet. hope you enjoy <3
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the entire car journey home is silent.
it's not a bad sort-of silence, mind you. matty isn't angry, or upset - in the moments where it isn't wrapped around the gearstick or the handbrake, his hand still takes up its semi-regular position on your thigh as he drives, calloused fingers rubbing soothing circles into your denim-covered skin. he's just… speechless.
you rendered him - matty healy, famed chatterbox - totally speechless. the thought sends a flush of pride up through your bloodstream and into your cheeks.
matty blushes, too, every time he glances over at you. you'd like to think it's all your doing, that he's overcome by how pretty you are, framed by the heather-grey evening sky and illuminated by streetlights - and to be honest, that's probably partially true, knowing your boyfriend and his simp tendencies - but the spots of pink above those fucking cheekbones of his are absolutely less to do with you yourself and more to do with the full tote bag resting on your lap.
or, more accurately, to do with the pretty little jewelled butt plug tucked somewhere in the bag, hidden beneath and behind lace and mesh and silk and rope and glass and silicone and metal. 
you keep your eyes on the road, or look out of the passenger window, but you can still feel matty's flicking to and fro periodically. he watches out the windscreen, then looks at you, then at the bag. a few minutes pass, then he does the same thing again. lather, rinse, repeat.
from the corner of your eye, and because of the close proximity, you notice that matty's gaze always seems to land on your lips. as much as he's obsessed with them, you don't think his look is concerned with desire; he's searching for a hint of a smirk on your face, something to signify that your sparkly little purchase was made as a joke.
he won't find it: you're dead serious.
true, it's undeniable that you picking it up and taking it to the till was partially motivated by revenge - matty (as is his wont) was hell-bent on getting you flustered as you picked out new bedroom accoutrements together, while he smiled sweetly and wandered around the sex shop perusing nipple clamps or whatever as if nothing was the matter, and he certainly didn't count on you casually adding a butt plug to the pile and smiling just as sweetly as him as you did. he managed a whispered “wait, babe, are you serious?”, you responded with a wink, and he's been silent ever since, in sheer disbelief.
but, revenge aside, you do want to try it out, have done for a while. it's not something you've ever said to your boyfriend, out of some crass lingering teenage belief that “only slags want it up the bum”, a statement you heard the boys in your classes at school say so often it might as well have been a mantra. never mind that they got off to watching it online from their bedrooms every night, harboured fantasies of doing it with the pretty girls they watched like hawks when they walked past them in the corridors - if a girl asked to do anal, or anything relating to it, she was a slut. end of.
obviously, that's a load of bollocks, and nobody's said it in your vicinity for five years. but still… it's a hard association to shake. even now, with the tenner for an actual butt plug charged to your boyfriend's credit card and the thing itself on your knee, you’re hesitant to discuss it with matty, resolving to let him be the one to break the silence and bring it up.
it takes him a while, though - to say anything at all, actually. you brace yourself for questioning when he parks outside the house, but all matty does is wordlessly take the tote bag from your lap, quickly kiss your temple out of habit, and go to grab the rest of today's shopping from the backseat to carry it inside. even when the front door is firmly closed behind you, neither of you speak; he busies himself unpacking the tote bag, while you put away the new housey bits and clothes you picked up today.
walking through from the spare room you and your boyfriend use as a makeshift walk-in wardrobe, you find him sitting on the edge of your bed, turning the boxed plug over in his hands. tentatively, you sit down beside him, unclasping your watch and placing it on the bedside table, just to stop yourself nervously biting your nails in the silence.
you needn't be nervous, though. matty turns to you practically as soon as you sit down, his handsome face set in a pleasantly neutral expression. “hi.”
“hi,” you reply with a sweet smile, shifting on the bed to face him.
“so,” matty begins, tapping his thumbs against the cardboard box. he looks down at it before his eyes lock on your own, a tenderness amidst the pretty brown. “this… accessory.”
“yes?”
“i take it that's - and excuse the pun, please, darling - an area you want to explore?”
you bite your lip to keep from laughing, but you allow your cheeks to lift into a smile mirroring matty's as you nod. “i do want that, yeah.”
“alright,” matty nods thoughtfully. “it's just, well, that you've never brought it up until now. was a bit taken aback by it, if i'm honest.”
your expression must sour without your awareness, because he takes your hand and quickly continues talking. “not in a bad way, sweetheart! was just surprised, s'all. it's… yeah, it's quite a thing to be into.”
“you don't think it's weird that i want to try it, do you? or, like, off-putting?” you ask, voice small, looking down at your fluffy socks. “because if you do, we can just forget-”
“hey, no, sweetheart, none of that,” matty gently cups your jaw and lifts it so he can look at you. “i'm not put off by the idea at all - if you want to try it, then we'll try it, yeah?”
you smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead, but it's short-lived. “but do you want to try it?”
matty's eyes narrow. “you're not just doing this because you think i want it, are you?”
“no!” you clasp at matty's hand. “i just need to know i'm not asking you to do something you don't want.”
“oh, my sweet girl,” matty kisses you quickly, pulling back to stroke your cheek. “believe me, you don't have to worry about me not wanting to try it, fucking hell.”
fuck.
you wrap your arms around your boyfriend's neck as you climb onto his lap, enjoying the way his breath hitches when your nails lightly scratch the nape and your fingers begin to work themselves into his hair. these little moments of you holding all the sexual power are fleeting, few and far between, so you exploit them as much as you can whenever they present themselves, and generally just try to make matty fold like a deckchair. “have you thought about stretching me out, daddy?”
“christ,” matty rests his head on your shoulder, overcome. “would you think i was a creep if i said yes?”
“if i didn't fancy you so much, yeah,” you giggle, turning your head to press a kiss to your boyfriend's curls. “but no - i like hearing that you think about me sexually like that. turns me on to know i'm the object of your fantasies, the only one.”
“yeah? that's a bit possessive of you, sweetheart. correct, but possessive.”
“pot, kettle,” you smirk, kissing matty when he lifts his head to stick his tongue out at you.
matty softly nudges his head into yours. “thought you liked that?”
“i do. i love it, being yours,” you reach back and move matty's hand further down your back, until it rests just under your tailbone. “and i want all of me to be completely yours. every single hole.”
“oh, i fucking love you,” matty groans, lips trailing from your own, over your jaw, onto your neck; you whimper as he sucks a bruise into the skin above your collarbone, hips automatically grinding down onto his. “if that's what you want, my perfect girl, then that's what you'll get. need to work up to you taking my cock, though, yeah? have to make sure you're comfortable when i fuck that cute little hole for the first time.”
you whine at that, speeding up your grinding to relieve the wanton need matty's words sent straight to your cunt. “want to start now, daddy, please.”
“hmmmm,” matty holds your hips, slowing down your movements in order to think. he tuts when you frown and grumble at him in frustration, both regular and sexual varieties. “oi! don't be greedy, princess.”
“but-”
“good girls don't say ‘but’, do they?”
you sigh. “no, daddy. m'sorry.”
“you will be, princess,” matty smirks, and you hate it. “because now you'll have to wait for me to start stretching you out. i was gonna do it now, before you got all cheeky, but i'm afraid you'll have to want me a little bit longer. understand?”
reluctantly: “i understand, daddy.”
“good girl,” matty kisses your nose - despite yourself, you smile. “come on, darling, let's have a brew, yeah? and then we can try out that new bubble bath you got earlier, if you like.”
you nod. “i’d like that, yeah. thank you.”
“you're welcome, sweetheart.”
and it's a nice evening, despite the lingering desire in your body not being helped at all by sharing a bath with a naked and soaking wet matty. he's a gentleman, for once, though, hugging you and kissing along your shoulders as he sits behind you in the warm water, singing old love songs into your hair as you lie back on his hard chest, just taking the time to be tender and romantic with you. 
you love it. you love him. you love the way he makes you feel so special, so good, so cared for.
and you'd love him to make you feel like that in another sense, now. matty's touches on your body may be chaste, but there's an inherent electricity in his skin whenever it meets yours; every caress sends a shock through your nervous system, culminating in the bundle between your legs and leaving you wet in a way that isn't caused by the lavender-scented water.
thankfully, he doesn't make you wait too much longer.
after the bath, once you've dutifully slathered each other in the fancy body lotion matty loves stealing from you, washed your hands again, and dried off, you end up in your favourite state: naked, in bed, on your boyfriend's lap, lazily making out and giggling “i love you”s between kisses. it's the most intimate way of being with him, you think, both of you so physically and emotionally open, with nothing on your mind except the love you have for each other.
well, that isn't strictly true - love might be the overwhelming feeling in your brain, but the inkling of desire in the back grows bigger with every kiss. matty's the same, as evidenced by the way his hands move to squeeze your bum tightly, and by the way his kisses get ever more intense, teeth catching on your top lip and tongue exploring your mouth. soon enough, you find yourself grinding on his lap again, electrified by the feeling of matty getting hard beneath you.
like earlier, he's the one to talk first, reluctantly breaking away from your lips and panting. “god, i really want you.”
“feeling's mutual,” you gasp at the feeling of friction on your clit.
“yeah?” matty's voice is sickeningly sweet. “what do you want me to do to you, princess?”
“i- oh, please,” your voice comes out in a whimper, as matty's right hand moves inward from the flesh of your bum, his middle finger circling the outside of the hole you're so desperate for him to fill. “want you to fill me there, daddy.”
“can i? you're sure that's what you want?”
you smile at the sincerity in those pretty brown eyes. “i'm sure, my love.”
“alright,” matty blushes at the pet name. fuck, you love him so much. “can you pass me the lube from the drawer there, please, princess?”
you oblige, matty holding your waist to keep you from falling as you grab the blue bottle from the bedside table. “we'll probably need to get more of this soon, baby. used more than i thought trying to get those leather leggings on last month.”
“fuck, those leggings,” matty groans, closing his eyes and resting his head back on the headboard. “that was evil of you, wearing those to that party and expecting me to be alright.”
“no, what was evil was you actually ripping them off me when we got home. sixty quid down the drain!”
“if you'd seen your arse in them, sweetheart, you would've understood that i had no choice but to rip them off and fuck you.”
you smirk, and whisper in your boyfriend's ear. “did you wish that's what you were fucking instead?”
“well, i didn't wish it… but my mind did wander there, yeah.”
“soon, baby,” you kiss his forehead, placing the lube in the palm of his hand. “especially if we start working on me now.”
matty giggles, not unkindly. “point taken, my girl.”
“i actually will be totally yours in a minute,” you say gleefully, matty kissing your cheek in response as he noisily squeezes some lube out of the bottle and covers the middle and ring fingers of his right hand. “oh my god, that sound. it's so awkward.”
“nah, s'good. sounds like you when you're turned on.”
“shut up. no it doesn't!”
“don't deny it, princess,” matty grins. “can feel how fucking wet you are for me already. i love it.”
you bury your head into the crook of his neck. “just really want you in my ass, daddy. turns me on thinking about it.”
“shit, you’re so hot. my perfect girl,” matty groans - you copy the noise, when his lubed fingers return to circling your tight hole. “gonna give you what you want now, princess, alright? tell me if it's too much, or you want to stop. you know your colours, yeah?”
“yes, daddy.”
“good girl. alright - gonna slip a finger in you now, sweetheart, so i need you to stay relaxed. s'just me, yeah? just me. nothing to worry about.”
you nod, pouting your lips for a kiss. matty obliges, pulling back quickly so he can look at you. when he sees you smile, he returns it with a whispered “i love you”; you return the sentiment eagerly.
and then he starts to slowly push his middle finger into you.
your jaw drops at the new sensation, breath catching in your throat as your boyfriend carefully manipulates the ring of muscle. his eyes don't leave yours the whole time, pretty lips slightly agape as he takes over this part of your body for the first time. neither of you make any sound, your heavy breathing the only noise in the bedroom, until the newness begins to ebb slightly in deference to pleasure; then, you hum at the feeling of sheer fullness.
it feels good. really good.
the pleasure must show on your face, because matty's breaks into a loving smile. “you like it, princess?”
“yeah,” you breathe, caressing his cheek. “i love it.”
“i'm glad, darling,” matty leans forward to kiss you, surprisingly tenderly given where his right hand is. “feel so good around me. so fucking tight. christ, thank you for letting me do this.”
“i should be the one thanking you!” you giggle. “love the way you feel in my little hole, daddy.”
with a sort-of strangled moan, matty kisses you again, harder this time. “are you ready for me to finger it properly, princess?”
“please.”
“always so sweet for me, even when you're being dirty. my good girl,” matty smiles. “ready?”
“yeah.”
matty nods, ever so slightly pulling his finger back out of you, before working it back in. you blink repeatedly at the new feeling - again, pleasurable. “oh.”
“colour?”
“green, green green green. please don't stop,” you moan, shuffling your hips slightly in an attempt to offset how turned on you are. “fuck, daddy, please keep going.”
“jesus christ,” matty breathes, obliging your request. “you fucking love this, don't you, princess? you’re fucking soaking me.”
you nod, breath catching in your throat again; it passes quickly, though, and you speak. “can you - shit - can you speed up, please?”
“think you can take it?”
“yeah, i can take it. wanna take it, wanna take it so bad,” you babble, eyes never breaking from matty's lust-darkened ones. “please, daddy, need you.”
“sweet girl,” a kiss to your forehead, incongruous with the speeding up of his right hand. “grind on me too, if you like, princess; can't neglect that pretty little pussy, can we?”
“thank you, daddy,” you gasp out, rocking your hips back and forth. the friction on your clit combined with the fullness in your ass is heavenly, sending sparks right through your body. “fuck, that's so good.”
matty hisses when you catch the tip of his cock with your clit - he smiles, though, when your eyes widen. “feels fucking amazing, doesn't it, princess?”
“yeah,” you moan into your boyfriend's mouth, sinking your teeth into his lower lip when the pleasure in your body increases. a wave of boldness follows it, and you pull back so just your foreheads touch. through it all, you don't stop grinding, and matty doesn't stop fingering. “can i try taking another finger?”
“princess wants daddy to stretch her out even further?” matty smirks, lips moving down to your neck. “if you're sure you can take it, swee-”
“i can, i can take it,” you nod furiously, almost as furiously as your hips grind down onto your boyfriend. “if it's too much, i'll tell you. i promise.”
matty takes his time replying, in favour of sucking another bruise on your neck - you don't need to look to know it’ll form a heart with the one from earlier. “alright.”
he pulls his middle finger out further than he ever has, until only the hint of his fingertip is still inside you; when he slides it back in, his ring finger is flush against it. there's less resistance than there was when matty first fingered you, but you still feel the stretch of the extra digit.
you fucking love it.
“oh, yes,” you smile slightly dazedly at your boyfriend, who returns the expression eagerly. “thank you, daddy.”
“pleasure’s all mine, princess. now,” matty's face turns slightly more serious. he puts his free hand on your cheek. “i want you to cum for me. will you do that for me, my perfect girl?”
the ecstasy beginning to seriously cloud your brain suggests that that won't be a difficult task at all. you nod, turning your head to kiss matty's palm. “yeah. just… please don't stop.”
“i won't, darling. don't stop grinding on me, either, yeah? use me to make yourself feel good. s'all for you, all about you, gorgeous.”
the praise makes you preen, makes your hips speed up, makes matty move his hand faster and tip his head back as you slide along his dick. “like that?”
“just like that, fuck,” matty's eyes close. “if you keep that up, princess, i'll cum too.”
that's all the motivation you need - you move your hips even faster, eliciting a cracked groan from your boyfriend's throat. he looks at you softly, and giggles. “you're such a fucking sub, baby, it's so cute. getting daddy off just gets you off, doesn't it? my good girl, my favourite girl.”
his words shoot straight to your cunt, to the bundle of nerves already stimulated to the point of climax; the telltale tightening in your stomach signifies you're almost there. you seem to be tightening elsewhere, too, as evidenced by matty's “christ, i can't wait to fuck you here”.
your head drops onto his shoulder, his left hand coming up to hold you there while your hips thrash - there's no other word for it - in pursuit of your imminent orgasm. “please.”
whether you're begging for him to fuck you or to let you cum, you've no idea. neither does matty, but he addresses both things, cooing into your hair while his fingers refuse to let up on you. “cum for me first, sweetheart, need you to cum before i can fuck you. keep those hips moving for me, that's it, my perfect girl, cum all over me.”
you couldn't deny his request even if you wanted to. the orgasm hits you like a freight train, dragging a cry from your throat and sending your limbs into convulsions. somewhere in the midst of it all, matty pulls his fingers out of you so he can wrap both arms around your waist, holding you tight and cooing praises into your ear while you come down from the high.
“i've got you, darling, you're alright,” matty murmurs, tracing soothing patterns on your spine. “i know, it was intense. but you were so good, so fucking perfect for me. have a rest for a bit, sweet girl, that's it.”
he kisses your hair while you come to; as your breathing and limbs begin to settle, though, so does a shocking realisation. “wait, matty, you didn't cum! shit - let me…”
“no, no, sweetheart, listen to me,” matty says, firm without being aggressive, coaxing your head up so he can look at you. “like i said, this is all about you. and i've got an idea, if you feel up to it.”
you raise a brow. “what?”
“well,” matty begins, smiling softly. “i think you're probably relaxed enough after your orgasm for us to try out your new accessory, yeah?”
oh. another rush of heat finds its way between your legs at the thought. you nod, slowly, smiling excitedly at your boyfriend. “i like the sound of that.”
“really? because we can wait if you need to, of course, darling, i just think that it'll be less uncomfortable now and-”
“matty,” you stroke his hair, relishing the way his eyes close contentedly. “green.”
he pauses and smiles, looking at you lovingly. “alright. hands and knees then, please, princess. actually, before you do,” he grabs your jaw and pulls you in for a searing kiss. “couldn't help myself.”
you giggle. “i love you.”
“i love you too,” another kiss, then a gentle slap to your bum. “right, face the mirror for me, babe.”
you do as requested, shuffling onto your hands and knees facing the end of the bed. the sight of your reflection in the mirror startles you slightly - not from how fucked-out you look, because that's a common sight in this particular mirror, but because of the clear happiness radiating from you. what can you say, though? you just really love matty, and how good he makes you feel.
and the way he looks at you, like he's doing now; his bottom lip is between his teeth, lust evident in his reflected eyes even from a few feet away, chest heaving slightly with his heavy breathing as he looks at you, all bare and ready for the taking.
as he should. you look fucking delectable.
matty seems to think that, too - before you can even say anything, he ducks out of sight behind you, and half a second later you feel his flat tongue catching the arousal dripping from your still-sensitive cunt, and dipping inside to the hilt.
you squeal at the feeling, a mixture of shock and pleasure. “matty!”
“sorry, sweetheart,” your boyfriend pops back up into your line of vision, catching your eye and winking as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “couldn't resist.”
“s'ok. i liked it,” you smile back at him in the mirror. “but i don't think i can wait any longer for the plug, honestly. m'sorry. i don't mean to be impatient,” you go for the jugular with your next sentence. “just need you to fill up my little hole again, daddy.”
“right, you need to rein in saying stuff like that, princess,” matty groans as he unboxes the plug; the silver jewel on the end glints in the lamplight in the loveliest way. “i'm hard enough as it is.”
“i can see that,” you hum in appreciation, while your boyfriend busies himself with lubing up both you and the plug; you wince at the coolness of the liquid on your warm body.
matty notices. “sorry, sweetheart. here, let me just,” he takes the plug and clasps his palms tightly around the metal for a moment. “there. slightly warmer, i think.”
“thank you.”
“not a problem, sweetheart. now,” matty shuffles into position behind you, excitement practically radiating off him. “are you ready?”
you nod, elated anticipation coursing through your veins.
“words, princess.”
“sorry,” you clear your throat, smiling - and blushing - at matty through the mirror. “yes, daddy, i'm ready for you to put the plug inside me.”
“fuck, that's so sexy,” matty groans. he winks at you. “eyes on the mirror, sweetheart. i want you to watch yourself taking it.”
“ok,” you murmur, eyes already locked on your own reflection.
matty kisses your shoulder, then leans back. you feel cool metal on your skin, and your lips part at the sensation; they slowly drop into an O, matching pace with the plug as your boyfriend slowly works it inside your ass.
your gaze flicks up to matty's face, contorted into a stunning expression of concentration, desire, disbelief. the middle emotion wins out on both of your faces as you feel the jewelled base of the plug meet your skin; you feel so deliciously full, even more so than you did with matty's fingers, and the most turned-on you think you've ever been.
fuck, this was a great idea.
your boyfriend agrees - it's obvious from the way he can't tear his eyes off your bum, emphasised by his murmured words. “sweetheart… you are, without question, the sexiest thing i have ever, ever seen. christ. how do you feel, princess? talk to me, please.”
“feel amazing,” you all but whimper in return. “so fucking turned on, daddy.”
“i can see that, princess,” matty ghosts his thumb up your folds, catching your wetness and circling it around the jewel adorning your other hole. “fuck, i'm never going to get over this sight. my perfect girl, sparkling for me.”
you giggle at the compliment, moving onto your elbows to stretch; when you go back to resting on your hands, you inadvertently shuffle back slightly too much and brush against your boyfriend's dick. before you can apologise, though, his hands are on your hips, pulling you flush against him and grinding into you with a “feel what you're doing to me, darling. feel how much i want you right now.”
“then take me, daddy,” you whine, spreading your legs slightly wider. “you let me use you. i want you to do the same.”
“yeah? you want both holes filled at the same time, princess? fuck, you're so needy for me, aren't you?”
“mhmm. need you inside me, too, daddy,” you meet his gaze in the mirror again. “please?”
your favourite phrase: “whatever my favourite girl wants.”
as soon as he's choked the words out, matty slides home into your waiting cunt, gasping at the feeling. “oh, baby, you really weren't kidding about being wet, jesus christ. and i can feel the plug, shit. how you feeling, princess? colour?”
“yellow. i'm fine, i'm good, really fucking good,” you wave away matty's worries before he can even express them. “just… so full. need a second.”
“of course, my love,” matty rubs little circles into your hips to relax you, staying as still as he can to allow you to adjust to the double penetration. “so fucking grateful for you - always am, but especially now. taking everything i give you so perfectly, my perfect girl. let me know when you're ready, yeah? we'll take as long as you need.”
“thank you, daddy.”
“it's alright, princess.”
you smile at your boyfriend’s reflection - it's eagerly returned - and continue taking deep breaths, trying to get used to the overwhelming feeling of being filled in both holes. after eight breaths, the strangeness begins to subside, and you feel yourself aching for friction, somewhere, anywhere.
“daddy? m'green again,” you murmur, looking wide-eyed at matty. “want you to fuck me now, please.”
“positive?”
“yes.”
“right, then,” matty nods, pulling his hips back and thrusting into you again - not particularly quickly or forcefully, but just enough that you really feel it. his eyes snap shut in pleasure. “oh, princess, i don't think i'm going to last very long. you just feel too - fucking - good.”
his words are timed with his thrusts, which speed up slightly as per your moaned requests. “s'ok, daddy,” you whine, eyes rolling back into your head with one especially good move. “want you to cum for me, anyway.”
“you first,” comes the cheeky reply.
a huff of a laugh leaves your body at that, but you don't think matty's request is an unfeasible one - you're still sensitive from your previous orgasm, he's fucking you within an inch of your life, and - to top it all off - you have the plug in your ass, providing even more stimulation than usual.
put simply, this is the best sex you've ever had.
matty smiles when you tell him as much. “me too, princess. feel like i'm fucking dreaming.”
“yeah…” you sigh, pleasure beginning to gather and grow within your stomach again, increasing bit by bit with every one of your boyfriend's thrusts. “shit, i'm getting close. can i cum, please, daddy?”
matty's grasp on your hips tightens - so do your holes - and he speeds up his movements even more. “do it, princess, whenever you need to. cum for me, all over me, make me yours. be a good girl and cum on my dick, please.”
it's the plea that gets you.
not the plug in your ass, not the thorough fucking, not even the dirty talk and the pet names and the praise. it's matty begging you to cum that shatters the epicurean bundle in your stomach, sending ecstasy careening through your nervous system and bloodstream, and liquid arousal gushing out of you and onto both matty and the bed.
“fuck!” matty practically wails, thrusts simultaneously speeding up and stuttering as he too reaches his climax. “fuck, princess, m'gonna cum, gonna fucking cum. where d'you-”
“inside,” you choke out, fingers clasping at the bedsheets as the aftershocks of orgasm hit you. “fill me up, daddy, please.”
“yeah, yeah, gonna fucking fill you up, fill that little pussy with my cum,” matty mutters to nobody in particular, teetering on the edge of orgasm. “made to fucking take it, take me, weren't you- oh, fuck, princess.”
with that, he's finished, hips flush against yours yet again as he pulses heat into you. aside from your respective panting, the obscenely wet sound of matty pulling out of your cunt is the only thing audible; your limbs give way as soon as he's disconnected, body flopping to the mattress in sheer - but elated - exhaustion.
matty sits back on his knees for a minute or two (really, neither of you have any real concept of time at the moment), looking lovingly down at you and stroking your hair. “you alright, sweetheart?”
“mhmm,” comes the faint reply. “sleepy.”
“same here, babe,” matty laughs breathily. “fucking loved that, though.”
you nod, with great effort. “was so good. thank you. need to sleep now.”
“whoa, whoa, hang on,” matty scrambles off the bed as quickly as he can. “let me get stuff to clean you up first, darling.”
you hum in acknowledgement as he speeds off to the bathroom, too tired to properly notice he's gone; you perk up when he returns and gently starts twisting the plug to get it out of you. “this is definitely going to feel weird, sweetheart, but we need to take the plug out now, yeah? s'too much for you if we leave it in, i think. you good with that?”
“yeah, s'smart,” you wince at the sensation of the metal leaving your body, but it passes as quickly as it came on. “so,” you tilt your head to look at matty in the mirror. “how does it look?”
your boyfriend laughs, in what seems like slight shock. “looks so fucking hot, babe. especially with the cum dripping out of your pussy, too - christ, i really did a number on you today, didn't i?”
“i liked it.”
“i know, sweetheart,” matty coos, gently wiping your cunt with a damp washcloth. “took me so fucking well. can't quite believe we just did that, to be honest. thank you. i love you, so much.”
“i love you,” you use the last of your energy to roll over and beckon your boyfriend to you for a kiss; he enthusiastically obliges. “can't wait until we get to do that again.”
“neither can i, sweetheart, but first… another brew?”
“please.”
290 notes · View notes
kth1fics · 9 months
Text
Safe Haven (M) | PJM
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Safe Haven
⟶ Pairing: Park Jimin x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: royalty, smut, 18+ ⟶ Tropes: forbidden love au, medieval royal au, royal king’s guard werewolf!jimin ⟶ WC: 16.2k+ ⟶ Warnings: mild birth scene mention (hardly any details!), mentions of d*ath, brief fighting/attacking descriptions, blood mentions, hair pulling (when attacked), weapons mentioned, poison/venom mention, random side character d*aths, soft pining, kisses, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex, etc ⟶ Beta: Sarah bean! @caelesjjk ⟶ Summary: When a wolf protects the royal family for many years, he’s faced with one special princess who he’ll do anything for. ⟶ Author’s Note: Apart of the “To Love a Monster” collab! I took a long while to get this fic out – and I am sorry for those who have been waiting for it. It may take me months to write and readers minutes to read, but I do hope that this fic holds a special place in someone’s heart in the end! Please enjoy & leave some feedback if you have the time! ⟶ Song Recommendation: Bound to You by Christina Aguilera
Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi 
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Freshly welcomed into the King’s Guard, Jimin, a sprouting young wolf, rushes around the corridors of the castle to obey the barking orders of his higher-ups. Making haste, all servants and guards make their purpose of assisting the Queen.
“Hurry!” Hoseok, another royal guard and close friend to Jimin, shuffles through the utility room. “Gather more cloth!”
“Aren’t people usually more prepared with things like this?” Jimin frantically follows, his voice rushed with the fast pace movements. 
“I’m afraid not,” Hoseok huffs a laugh.
The two younger royal guards speedily ransack each drawer and closet until their arms are full of materials. They stumble back down the hall towards the birthing chamber. A room enclosed for the parties who participate with the anticipated arrival of the next royal kin. A domestic, darkened room provided with the country's softest furnishings. Royal officials and servants are permitted to be within the room for the delivery to ensure that there are no scandals around the birthing practice.
A midwife places herself before the legs of the Queen. A moan of pain rips from her Highness’s throat. Jimin and Hoseok stand idly as the birthing of child number three crowns at the entrance of the world, preparing to gain its first breath of fresh air. The scene is natural for humans, even more common for a royal to carry out in front of an audience.
For Jimin, he prefers not to stare like the others. His polished amber eyes trail to the lines of the floorboards, using any peripheral view for his advantage.
“It’s a girl!” He hears the cries from a newborn baby, the declaration announced by the midwife who’s wiping off residue from the infant.
Placed on the chest of her mother, the newest child of the royals whines freely. The sound rings through the ears who listen. The King is joyous, regardless of being unable to create a proper heir to his throne. But with the first two daughters – and now third, the royal guards know his Highness will move quickly in trying for a son.
Servants flutter about, handling the delicacies of aftercare for childbirth. Jimin follows after his friend, handing off the pile of cloth to a maiden. Bodies move around another like an assembly line. 
For a moment, and only a moment is needed, did Jimin finally take a swift glance at the newborn who screams her upset. He locks eyes with the infant over the shoulder of Hoseok, seeing a warmth of an everlasting hearth as she cries wet droplets down her face.
Then it happened.
Jimin is struck with something that is indescribable. Something that couldn’t be defined. He’s heard through stories and lores within his lineage that this phenomenon could happen to anyone at any time in one's life. He hears about it through those he’s close to and those who experience it. It’s a once in a lifetime deal.
He can feel the shift of his weight when he locks eyes with the newborn baby. As if this new formed motion represents an outstanding astronomical level. Where his world, which once revolved around the Sun as it does for everyone, now revolves around this small, fragile child.
Jimin’s heartbeat thumps in his ears as the world freezes around him. Hoseok and the other royal wolf guards all sense a change in the wind. If it isn’t Hoseok ushering him out of the way of the other servants and departing out of the chamber, he’s sure the royal family would have done it themselves. 
With his head on a silver platter.
Hoseok’s palm slaps the side of Jimin’s cheek to gain his consciousness from whatever daze he’s fumbled in. It takes him a few good taps before Jimin blinks. His blood runs rampant inside him with warmth and excitement.
The second Jimin looked at the third child of the royal household, everything changed within him. All of a sudden, nothing else matters. The yearning of knowing and willing to do anything, be anything, for her is the only constant demand singing at the back of his head.
“You didn’t,” Hoseok’s hushed tone stays low. “Not a royal!”
“How am I supposed to control that?” Jimin stresses. “I can’t choose who this happens to! I didn’t expect this to happen to me!” He runs a hand through his soft hair, exhaling sharply as his mind begins to race.
“You’re going to learn,” Hoseok claims. His eyes are sharp and narrow. “You will learn to control it. A wolf is not allowed to be mixed with a royal. They’ll kill you.”
His imprint will be kept secret from the royals and the precious baby girl. But for his wolf mates, each of them knows the severity of the situation. Not one member will speak of it, they only can respect it. As for Jimin, he’ll spend the rest of her life – your life – being what you need him to be. A friend, a brother, a protector. Whatever you require of him, he will act accordingly in secrecy while obeying his rightful duties to the royal throne.
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White flurries fall slowly from the gray clouds above, decorating the large courtyard, you look down towards the sheet of fresh snow. Most of the garden that blooms the most gorgeous flowers is now a mess of dead plants and weeds. The bare trees stand firm. But those who stand strong in the winter months like hollies with red berries and camellias, continue to stand out next to the beauty of sheared evergreens and deciduous shrubs with colorful stems.
Your eyes are not trained on admiring the bright snow that cascades from the sky so beautifully. Normally you would. As you sit by your glass window with a blanket around your shoulders, you look down from your chambers on the third level of the castle to fancy something different.
Men – some of the royal guards – play around with one another in the cold weather. Some have shifted to their wolven form, others remain in their noble suits. The one you fixate your stare on is your personal guard, Jimin.
He stands leaning against the stone staircase beside a few of his equals. Chatting away about who knows what, watching the others roughhouse. Jimin is quite handsome, he always has been. For as long as you can remember he’s looked the same, minus the fluctuation of hair styles and added tattoos that linger his body and a few added battle scars.
As a guard he wears your family's sigil proudly – a lotus flower – on each of his articles of clothing. Customized into each of the guards’ crested plates of metal armor and sewn into each leather hide. 
Jimin possesses the unfair mix of unlimited masculine and feminine traits, having a soft-looking composure and full lips plus a sharp jawline and toned muscles. His voice is nearly angelic when speaking in hushed tones but also stern as ever when he leads with his strong confidence. He may not be as large as his fellow wolves, but he’s proven himself countless times to your family to have the privilege to be your personal guard. There’s nobody quite like him; no one you’ve met in your life that is.
You commend him in silence, appreciating what you can watch from afar. Even from a distance behind a glass window, he somehow manages to make your heart race. An infatuation some may call it. A yearning. He and your family have been consistent in your life, he’s comfort – as are they. But you knew from a young age, from when you began favoring Jimin’s company over others, that you need to call it ‘nothing’. Because whatever feelings that spin deep inside you are never to be spoken aloud. It’s foolish for your Kingdom, family, and you to long for a wolf who doesn’t see you as anything but a duty.
What’s more disappointing is that you don’t need to admit these infuriating feelings to Jimin, he already knows. He would never allow it to get far by cutting you short and being curt with clipped words and disapproving looks.
He is a wolf and you are a royal. Two beings who have no business intertwining besides with loyalty to the family and the job of a guard. Your acquaintanceship between another is only going to be professional. Perhaps it’s to keep the bloodline pure, untainted. How every sibling of the family is betrothed to a neighboring kingdom, growing the alliance across countries. And not one of them has a blend of wolf’s blood in them. Even though werewolves are evident in the world around you.
“Aren’t you supposed to get ready for the party tonight?” A maid who's making your bed quips up as you're daydreaming down into the evergreen.
“I’ve been stuck on deciding which dress I should wear.”
“No, you’ve been stuck staring out into the courtyard,” she corrects.
You slump in your seat as you stubbornly hold your position by the window. When you look back down, you admire the off-brown and black tones of that particular wolf you fancy. She isn’t wrong, you know. His kind eyes and kind smiles make you feel warmth like no other, and you enjoy seeing them when you gain the chance.
“I can multitask,” you feebly argue. You drag the blanket tighter around your shoulders, keeping in the warmth of your body as much as possible. “Besides, the party isn’t for a few more hours.”
“Princess, you already have guests arriving. Half the guard is at the entrance welcoming the parties who show up early. Let’s not begin to mention how several potential suitors are arriving today. You’ve failed to marry even when betrothed. Such a shame what happened with the Jeon family.”
“I prefer not to be a royal. It doesn’t feel right the way we work,” you sigh as the joyful wolves down below have fun while you’re stuck in your tower with envy. “Can we braid my hair the way we did at my Aunt’s wedding? It cascaded down beautifully.” You speak while staring out of the window, purposely ignoring the heavier topic your maid mentions. “I’ll go with the silver dress. That one that comes with the gorgeous fur shawl.”
You notice the way that Jimin has suddenly turned to look up toward your window, half expecting to see you through the glass. Even in the midst of his comrades, he finds a way to give you an ounce of attention. He shakes his head momentarily, already scolding you without knowing what you’re supposed to be doing. Jimin knows looking for him isn’t on your agenda, you purposely put him there.
“For me to do that,” – you hear the voice of your maid – “I need you to get out of your chair and into your washroom.”
A small frown carves into your face when Jimin circles his finger in the air and directs you to turn around, go back to your business. He knows he’s escorting you tonight at the party, you will see him later. To make his point come across sternly, he disassociates his eye contact – bringing his attention back to his other peers and away from you.
“Princess,” your maid bids you once again.
Reluctant to leave your post at the window, you stand up regardless. You have a long night ahead of you while the castle starts to fill up with guests for your younger brother’s birthday party.
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You can’t be bothered with the chattering staff or the nuisance of guests who flutter around the halls of your family’s castle. Each moment you find open to run away, to a quieter place and away from their eyes, you take it. Swiftly moving left and right until you can find your favorite spots to hide since you were a child. 
One of which happens to be past the hallway of family portraits. If you travel far enough you find yourself at a dead end. With cabinets, paintings, and curtains outlining every inch of the stone walls. Torches are lit to illuminate the surrounding areas, bringing light to the beautiful surroundings.
But little do most know, that behind painting number two – the one in the golden frame with green shrubbery and a little boy playing the flute – lies a secret behind it. You just need to get here without anyone seeing you sneak in. There’s no point in a secret hideout if you accidentally show it to other guests.
You wait for the time, seeing when that end of the hall becomes vacant and people rush toward the call of the buffet lines. The small talk you make with a few distant relatives is only an act, pretending to walk along with them but slipping away when you find your moment to.
Pressing lightly, the nook of a room behind the large painting greets you. It’s closet sized, filled with a few pieces of your past and littered in dust from lack of touch. Tarps are draped over unused furniture; you’re thankful that this hideout is never really used. The painting that acts as a door allows you a small peeping eyehole to look out and judge when you can come out.
The silver dress you picked for tonight's gathering is a smart choice for you; you’re able to sit down comfortably without restriction. You love the look of a free-flowing gown, falling nicely with the way you walk. Patting off a layer of dust from a chair, you’re able to seat yourself as you take an old notebook in your hand.
Small doodles linger on the pages, all drawn by your younger self. You remember each of them, no matter how terrible they may look. It’s how you pass time while hiding in here. The low lighting from the cracks of the portrait gives you most of your light source, and occasionally you will add flame to the candle that rests on the top of the desk beside you.
You scowl at the dried black ink next to the quill pen, the feather beaten up and torn. It’s been years since you’ve last touched it. Maybe browsing through all the pages of your books won’t be so bad as you loiter in your small den.
“Princess Y/n.”
A spark of panic zaps through you like lightning in the sky on a stormy day. Surprised by the voice of none other than Jimin, your personal royal guard. You watch as fingers curl around the edge of the portrait-door and a beautiful, yet stern, face peeks through. His amber eyes catch you as they squint at your mischievous behavior. 
“I knew you would be hiding somewhere.” He comments as he pushes himself through the opening and into the room. Jimin wears the guards festive wear, a beautiful pink etched coat with cream leather hide armor. He’s sure to close the door behind him; he’s more stealthy than you can ever be. “Are you upset?”
“No,” you turn your head back to the book in your hands. The weight of his gaze on you is nearly suffocating. “I simply wanted solitude.”
“You know you are to be returned. They’re calling upon your brother shortly for his ceremony. It’s a big event for him,” his tone is low but he maintains a soft tenor to it. Jimin is far too kind toward you even though he’s meant to be a guard and nothing more. His exterior has toughened over the years, as it should to fill his part. Although, the sweeter half of him sticks out to you and perhaps that’s what you’ve held onto all these years.
“Sadly, I know.” You shut your eyes and sigh heavily, “I’m not quite in the celebratory mood. I would much prefer to be in my chambers.”
“That’s selfish of you.” Jimin’s hand comes to take away your book, placing it on the desk where it belongs. He bends down to level his face with yours. “You should be happy for your brother, he’s of age to carry out duties now. To be what he needs to be. Something you should understand.”
You hear the underlying hint Jimin gives you. He’s softly scolding you, as usual. 
At first you say nothing in response. Downcasting your eyes to your empty hands as you think what can be said to counter him, but you draw nothing.
You’re the third child in the family of four. A role where you feel invisible and forgotten. Always having second bests and hand-me-downs. Once your brother, who is a few years younger than you, sprouted from the womb of your mother – all chances of your favor flew out the window. As a male in this royal world is keen, any daughter is denied the spotlight. But you never craved a place to rule, or to do what a princess must do. Your oldest sister, the most responsible one of all, desires that for herself. You see it in the way she presents herself. Aces every test and diplomacy role she is given.
The second oldest is the fairest, she didn't need to do much to gain the popularity or attention she is given. It comes so unfairly natural to her thanks to the outstanding looks she’s been blessed with. A privilege only few and far between are given. Life for her is as simple as breathing, all she needs to do is point and ask.
Your younger brother is everything that your father waited for. Of course, your father, the King, treats all his children with love and passion. Keeps you sheltered, fed, and protected. However, the moment he received a bouncing baby boy – that tears any favoritism away from you or your sisters. A male has an unfair advantage in the royal family, it’s just how the world is.
“Princess –”
“– I know,” you unwillingly stand up from your chair. Jimin straightens himself as well, taken aback by your swift movement. “I want to retire after his ceremony,” you say curtly.
You take a single step toward the door as your hand reaches out to push against it, Jimin’s hand  grabs your wrist gently, like catching a delicate rose. Softly, he lowers your arm down as he steps before you with a concerned look on his face. His eyes search for signs of distress on your face.
“You’re upset,” he affirms.
“Nothing works in my favor,” you address with a choleric tone. Anger isn’t something you want resting on the surface, but it’s leaking out of the seams of your composure. “Sometimes, I truly despise being a royal daughter.”
You stare at the digits wrapped around your wrist, noticing how Jimin hasn’t let go of you yet. It feels cruel how you wish there was more meaning to the contact. Why can’t he hold you the way you long for him to?
Your eyes meet his with confusion and sadness. The pretty amber color still stands out in the low lighting, they’re beautiful to stare at. But you can’t read what’s going on in his mind. 
Jimin feels your sadness. He is connected to you deeply, little do you know. You can never know. It’s safer this way. Slowly, he releases your wrist letting his fingertips be the last thing that brushes against your skin. He can only comfort you so much without overstepping his boundaries. If he capsizes every time you give him those hopeless eyes, he’ll lose his placement in the guard and lose you indefinitely.
“Please,” he breathes, “We must go.”
Jimin pushes the hatch open steadily, peering out through the eyehole to make sure the coast is clear to sneak back into the festivities. He leaves space between the two of you as you walk side-by-side.
Silent tension surrounds you as your heels click with every step you take. There’s a dullness in your eyes, a lack of enthusiasm the closer you approach the center of the party. The amount of people here drains you even as you wear a kind smile.
Your little brother’s coronation will go quickly, you hope. Jimin’s words resound in your head, causing you to reflect on what he said.
“That’s selfish of you.”
You make your way to your designated chair at the family table quietly. The talks and commotions between the castle’s guests, family from far and wide, don’t phase you as you blur out the noise. The red liquid poured graciously in a chalice beside you becomes your saving grace; your delicate fingers grasp the cup and run over the smooth jewels embedded on the sides.
Your eyes find Jimin’s across the crowded room as he stands on guard near one of the walls. His hand rests over the handle of his sword casually, a weapon they choose first before shifting as a last resort. He can read the longing in your eyes with a mix of desperation and gloom. 
You wait to see his expected disapproving look. The one that tells you to pay attention to something else other than him – but you don’t. He stuns you confused as, instead of his typical stern look, he looks down at the ground. Deep in thought.
Are you truly selfish when nobody around you is selfless?
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Your chamber is a sanctuary. Filled with all the necessities you need to live like royalty. An abundant amount of candles have been lit to brighten the room, giving it a soft aura. 
You wear your hair down, untied from the tight braids you wore for the majority of the night. Your nightgown, cream in color and silk to the touch, is loose in all the right places. The ceremony took its time as you waited to retire for the night with the little patience you have left. You’re positive plenty of men are still celebrating at their feast. 
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
A loud thud shakes the doors to your room, a verbal grunt can be heard. You look over at your maid who does the same as she slowly walks toward the noise. There's a scurry of traffic beyond your door as the two of you try to make out the words that are being shouted. You take a step with her, but with that single step you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. Through the window you see a flash of red light. Smoke rises as pieces of the garden have been lit to flame. Upon closer inspection, you peer down your window into the once beautiful scenery to find brawls of fights. Men fighting enemies with swords, crossbows and guns.
Another thump hits the outside of your chamber’s doors and you twist your head to see your maid inches away from the handle, ready to pull.
“Don’t!” You turn frantic to shout at her.
But it is too late. Your maid already has her hand twisting the handle to pull the door open. But a force pressed the door faster than she anticipated – a body of a man standing guard slumped against the doorframe and now falling to the floor. A wound across his neck as blood smears across your family’s sigil on his leather chest plate.
Both you and your maid screech at the sight as you back away from the door. You can hear the commotion louder now as bodies rush past the halls as they run away from the intruders.
“Hide!” Your maid shoos you quickly and frantically while her first attempt of shutting your chamber’s door fails.
You’re not given a moment to think before you watch as two ruffians walk up to the door, one holding a flamed torch and a hand dagger as the other holds a handgun. They’re dirty from appearance, wearing torn up clothes but come armed with weapons that look like they belong to someone wealthy. They smile evilly, curling their lips at the sight of you as they advance on your maid.
“There’s a royal,” one comments in a ghoulish tone. They step over the body below them like it’s a fallen tree trunk. They laugh among each other, giggling at whatever is playing on in their minds. You definitely do not wish to know.
Your maid twists away, hoisting her skirt up high enough to let her legs lounge as she begins to run toward you. It provokes one of the men, making him chase her immediately as he finds it funny to stalk her. Threaten her with the slices he mimics with his dagger in the air.
Slowly, your feet have backed up along the path of your room. You make sure you keep as much furniture between you and the intruders. Your eyes remain open wide, trying so hard not to blink and miss any sudden movements.
You feel small compared to the man’s stature as he creeps closer and closer to you. Hectically, your hands reach around the tops of dressers and tables to find anything to use as a weapon. A letter opener? A pen? Anything to defend yourself from whoever these men are who impose your safe space.
More screams and shouts can be heard throughout the castle halls and outside. The place is being run down with bandits, unknown persons who you cannot identify from first glance. They wear close to all black attire, worn down from several years. Protected by pads and suitable armor, as if they collected stolen pieces and placed them together.
You hold your arms closer to your body with the heat of the males heavy gaze on you. His eyes look bloodshot as he studies your options of escape.
“Come here little royal,” he sneers while his beaten up boots scuff across the floor.
Your maid is chased across the wall, quickly making her way toward you as the other man follows her like a hunter. Herding his prey together before they set to kill.
They rush the two of you, forcing you to nearly trip over your own feet as your gown betrays you while you step on the very end of it. A small rip of fabric resounds but you’re in too much of a haste to notice from where.
Your maid screams in horror as you yell out for help. Your bodies fumble across the expanse of your chamber’s, trying to find the opportunity to rush out of the door if you can. To escape the men who run after you.
Where are the rest of your guards? What is happening and why are your werewolf guards not attacking? Who are these men and what do they have to attack the castle with? In all your years on this planet, you’ve never been caught in a situation like this. No intruder has ever made it past the front gates until now.
A knife is thrown in your direction, missing you but landing straight into the wall beside your head.
“Oops, guess I need to try that again,” you hear the male speak with malicious intent.
The other has gained enough momentum to grab your maid, pull her in as she struggles to fight him off. He’s rough, holding her arms as he pushes her against the wall. You're already rushing to her side, using your fists to hit the man on his arm and back.
“Get off of her!” you bawl, throwing your fist at him as fast as possible.
A hand grips your hair, yanking you back away from the two and onto the closest table. Your back hits the surface hard as the man presses you down. He threatens you with a dagger pointed at your face as his other hand holds you down by your shoulder.
The brute force immediately makes your eyes water as you stare up at the man in fear. You wrap your hands around his wrists to push him off, holding him off for as long as you can. Your kicks and screams do nothing to phase him, only fuels him.
You feel his hand slide to your throat; latch his ugly, dirty fingers around your neck. It’s brief, like a flash of lightning. But just as soon as he repositions himself, an arrow shoots straight into his head. Visibly shaken, you struggle to process the vicious man above you losing the life he has.
Your efforts of pushing begin to work as his lack of strength weakens by the second. A final push, not made by you – but from your personal guard, Jimin, knocks the man entirely off of you. He’s quick, already primed and prepped to shoot the other ruffian the second he turns away from your maid and to see his comrade passed out on the floor. Jimin launches another arrow with a flick of his finger, a perfect shot.
Both ruthless and merciless men seem to be dead, fallen to the floor of your chamber’s as pools of blood leak from their bodies.
You and your maid tremble in fear and anxiety. Frightened at the series of events and how the two of you were nearly brutally attacked.
Jimin wears streaks of blood across his face as his hair falls out of place. His beautifully tailored festive armor is now beaten and destroyed with stains. You look at him with confusion and anguish as reality sets in.
“Jimin,” you cry out in a broken sob. Your throat tightens and feels as if it’s being pricked by a dozen thorns while your hand runs up to touch the area where the man laid his fingers on.
“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth. Solemn and saddened. But he’s relieved to be here for you, even if he is cutting it short and close to being a second too late. 
It isn’t his fault the castle has been blindsided and an evil group has snuck their way inside its walls and started a reign of terror. But he takes blame for not being at your side every second that he should have been. Instead, he rushed to the frontlines once called upon. Tried to stop the invasion from penetrating deeper into the castle. 
In most cases this strategy works, but unfortunately tonight – it doesn’t.
But as the fighting continues and larger groups of people begin rushing in from all areas of the castle – equipped with tainted metals containing mountain ash and wolfsbane – the royal guards are not as prepared. A minor setback, yet it almost costs your life.
“I came as soon as I could,” he steps closer to you with sympathetic eyes. He’s hurt, more worried about how you are as he feels your dread and fear. “I’m so sorry.”
There’s still many battles being fought throughout the castle. People being slayed as guards protect as much as they can. Jimin helps you stand straight, holding you close to him as he’s escorting both your maid and you out of your chamber’s.
“Jimin,” you repeat as you hold onto him, wrapping your hands desperately around him. “Who are they?”
He brings the two of you deeper into your chamber, rushing you to a secret doorway that leads to a hidden passage. Your castle is littered with these; most guards know several entrances but not a lot of exits. It’s a maze down there; dark, cold, and gloomy as well. As a child, you would wander through some just to see how far you could reach without cowering out.
“They must be from the South. They’re fighting with wolfsbane. Their weapons are laced with it.”
It’s common knowledge that wolfsbane is rare near these grounds. It’s ordinary for them to grow down South, but they can be imported. Your family is known for being guarded by werewolves; so an attack like this must be heavily planned.
“Remember the passageways?” Jimin grunts as he pushes both you and your maid toward a panel against the wall. It’s colored like an archway, but the third one can be open with a twist of a lever. Specifically the sconce hanging to the left of it. “I need you to escape through them.”
You hear the falter in Jimin’s voice momentarily, how he sounds like he staggered his breath.
“Are you hurt?” You ask alarmingly. Your eyes frantically scan over his exterior, looking for any noticeable signs of a wound.
“Princess, I need you to go through the passageways,” he turns the lighting fixture swiftly. The secret door clicks open, a cool gust of air puffs through and hits against your skin. “Don’t worry about me. I need to protect you and the rest of your family.”
Your maid understands, already stepping through as she’s pulling you with her. Jimn is a guard, he needs to go and maintain his duty. Your maid is a servant – she is here to assist you until she can no longer. She begs you to step quickly, down the stone stairs into the pit of the passages.
“Jimin, no!” You grip tighter on his forearm as he tries to shrug you off of him. Blood tarnishes your cream colored nightgown as you’re pulled away from Jimin. It must be from those Jimin has fought already. “Come with me!”
Jimin takes your chin in his hand and inspects the distress on your face. Even when rushed, worried about your safety and life, he looks at you like he’s lost in your eyes. The gentle touch of his fingertips feels serene, featherlight even though they’re calloused through the years of combat. 
He’s moving you back into the passageway, gripping the door with his other hand to shut it on you when the moment comes. There’s displeasure spilling out of him only because he is infuriated by the way you stubbornly won’t see the concern for yourself.
“I need to protect the family. This is me protecting you,” he speaks sternly. “Please listen to me, princess,” he exhales slowly. His eyes flicker across your features with tenderness, “I am not losing you. Use the passageways,” he reminds you. “Exit at the stables. I will meet you there. You know which way to go?”
You stare at him dumbfounded at first. Like time is slowing down, but you cannot shake the feeling that you won’t see him again. You don’t feel convinced.
“B-But –”
“Go!” Jimin practically growls out his demand to you. In an instant, his amber eyes shine with a blue ring around his irises. It’s the first time Jimin has ever used that timbre with you, making you jolt away with shock. 
He warns you to watch your step and stay on the correct path toward the stables. Keep close to your maid and stay quiet. He rips off his cavalier shoulder cape, draping it around your shoulders to keep you warm as you descend into the chilly pathways. Jimin closes the door promptly, forcing you to turn with your maid and to escape to safety. Your heart ricochettes inside your chest, pounding erratically as you rush.
Throughout the narrow hallways, dripping with leaking water spouts and cobwebs, you hear the signs of savage wolf growls and barks as your royal guard begin shifting as their last resort. Cries of pain and fighting scare you further as you follow the lead of your maid, wondering how you’ll survive what comes ahead. The thin slippers still on your feet dampen with every hurried step you take as you hold Jimin’s cape tighter against your frame to stay as warm as possible.
“I am not losing you,” replays inside your head and inside your heart.
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Moonlight shines from above as your maid cracks open a hardened rock exitway. You came across many forks in the maze of the castle's passageways, but you remember from your past the correct ways to take. The two of you are at the stables, you can smell the mixture of horse and hay in the air. The area is unhit from the onslaught of violence for now.
“Shall we take a horse?” Your maid suggests as she creeps behind a bundle of stacked hay.
“Jimin said he’ll meet us here,” you remind her. 
The chill of the outside runs straight through your body. You curse to yourself at your poor choice of attire.
Together, the two of you watch the distance of all the violence. You see bloodshed with many reinforcements coming from every side of the castle. The thought of Jimin being caught in this mess sends a shiver down your spine. Wolves – your family's guards – have shifted to their creature form. They’re larger than any wild wolf; standing on all four limbs taller than most humans. 
They’re very swift at responding to the attackers, taking them out one by one. But you know the attackers are fighting against them with poisonous tactics – an advantage to go against such beasts. With these weapons, the werewolves near invulnerability, speed, and strengths are weakened once hit with the toxins. You can already witness it with a few of your guards.
“We’re still inside the castle walls, Princess. We need to get out of here fast,” she insists. Her eyes scan around for an opening, an escape route for the two of you. You’ll have to be fast.
“He knows we are here!” You yell at her in a hushed tone. “I’m not leaving unless it’s with –”
Just as you attempt to finish your sentence, the loud sound of wood snapping through the entrance door interrupts you. Men rush in, manically screaming in an uproar as the flames of their torches begin touching the fodder in the stables. Setting the straw ablaze in a matter of seconds.
You and your maid slouch back into a corner, away from view for as long as you can. Horses neigh with anger, jumping and kicking as the brightness and heat of fire creeps toward them. You cannot fathom the thought of losing these beautiful warhorses as they’re each tied to their own box.
“Release them,” you whisper to your maid before you frantically get up from your position and reach for the first horse.
Your soft hands flick up the lever to the wooden door, opening it up for the horse to run through and stumble toward the exit of the stables.
The maid begs you to stay hidden, but you refuse with stubbornness. In the same breath, you hear a shriek from her as you are in the midst of lifting another lever. The attackers have noticed her and shortly spot you as well.
She looks at you with panic, “Run!”
In seconds, she is being grabbed once again by these aggressors. Forced down with a hard shove as she hits the ground. You shout, scream, and cry at the men who flock over toward her. A pitchfork near you is the first thing you see to use as a weapon. Surely you can scare someone off with the points of the tines. 
A bellowful growl grows from a stampede of three wolves bursting onto the scene. They’re far too fast for your eyes to keep up, seeing flashes of their fur dashing around you to strike your attackers. Their teeth bare as they snarl and bite into the flesh of the men, claws digging through the fabrics and skin.
One wolf is nearly all black, slicked fur making it shine in the night. Another has a warm russet color, speckled with hues of beige but warm under the ember of the fires around you. The last wolf is your wolf – you know him far too well. Brighter shades of light brown are in his face as the rest of his pelt darkens into a deep dark, chocolate color. His amber eyes, now sparked with blue, casts over to you briefly as he takes out an enemy, his paw stepping hard against his chest and pressing down.
It’s like whiplash with how fast the royal guards cleared out the stables as the fire consumes the fixtures around you. Smoke fills the air, rising heavily as thick clouds form. Pieces of the loft areas begin to break and fall as the other roped up horses huff and puff.
The stark black wolf is the one lifting your maid off the ground as it nudges her. She’s wounded, you can tell as red covers the fabric of her left arm. You take a step toward her, wanting to console and help – but in return you are barked at by Jimin. He rushes toward you, his speed frightening you as you backpedal away from the area. He stares hard at you, growling in a low tone as ashes fall behind him.
He’s moving you away, wanting you out of the area. The other two wolves bark in his direction, some form of communication you cannot understand as Jimin glances back and responds with his own call. 
The russet colored wolf jumps toward Jimin as you watch your maid latch onto the black fur of the other. She gives you a sympathetic look, mouthing the words ‘get out of here’ to you.
A large beam from above falls and crashes in the middle of the stables, breaking other fixtures in its path. Ember’s rise from the burning building with a massive gust of wind as you turn your face away from the crash.
“Jimin!” You cough as your arms shield you. Your eyes tickle in pain from the smoke, the fire’s brightness doesn’t help either.
You can feel the brush of fur against you as a heavy body presses into your front. You smell the wilderness immediately as you fall forward, burying your face and arms into Jimin’s coat. He nudges you with his shoulder and a grunt. Somehow able to understand what he’s saying.
Quickly, you pull yourself up along his back like one would do for a horse. Your face remains embedded into his fur as you wrap your arms around his neck, hooking your fists onto his coat to anchor yourself.
You move with the russet colored wolf as he clears out the path ahead of you and Jimin. Taking down any attacker standing in the path to escape. It’s difficult to hold onto a wolf, feeling your limbs tighten around Jimin as hard as you possibly can just to stay on top as he dashes through the terrain.
His goal is to get you out of here safely, remove you from the premises. He brings you farther and farther away from the castle and closer to the woods. The last glimpse you dare to make shows you the image of the russet wolf turning back toward the scorched castle grounds.
You pray for the good safety of everyone. Hope the castle is still together after the royal guard protects and saves the night.
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It’s freezing as Jimin runs through the thicket of the wilderness, deeper than you ever dare to go alone. You keep your head down, pressed into his back as bitter cold breezes over the surfaces of your body that aren't protected by Jimin’s warmth. The nightgown you wear is thin, not topped with layers among layers of fabrics and wiring like a corseted dress would have. Not to mention the tingling burn to your bare feet as the winter air touches them. But he is warm. A heated beast beneath you, emitting a comforting temperature the more your fingers curl into the roots of his bristle fur.
His breath is labored, chest heaving as his limbs carry you fast. Jimin zips through the rough terrain of the earthy woods, jumping and dodging the obstacles in his way. You fear the tightness of your muscles as you cling on to him, feeling the exhaust of your body as they sore.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been a passenger on Jimin’s back. Everything has happened so quickly. It isn’t until you hear the noises of strangers. The padding of snow under Jimin’s paws begins sounding different. Now stepping on hardened ground.
Your eyes blink open as you take in the surroundings passing by. Glowing lights in tapered windows of wooden cabins flash in seconds. Secured doors and moss growth along the sides of several cabin-like housings. 
Jimin leads with a howl, rushing toward the only place he knows will keep you the most protected. He slows his pace as he draws near, beckoning with a warning call for the door to swing open and allow him in. You find yourself entering with him, a soft warmth from a low burning fireplace greets you as the two of you enter.
You feel the way Jimin stumbles, his body catching up with how taxed he must be. The way his shoulders shrug tells you to dismount him as his mouth pants labored breaths. Carefully, you slide until your toes touch the floor below you.
“Jimin?” Your first concern comes out worriedly. Your hands still roam his fur as you notice the warmth of red liquid staining your palms – even pieces of your clothes. It’s enough to make you feel uneasy about the open wounds you fail to find through his pelt.
He’s quick to move from you, tripping over himself as he walks deeper toward the back of the cabin. A low growl rumbles from his chest as a warning, unwanted contact from you.
You take a step to follow him, seeing how hurt he is – it only wrenches your heart tighter. Your eyes grow wider the further he steps away from you, scurrying himself as he barks in the air for help.
A soft pair of hands hold onto your elbow, keeping you from the beast in pain. You snap your head toward the contact, searching for the reason why you’ve been halted.
“Don’t.” A woman with dark, long wavy hair speaks in a low tone. Her skin is aged but glows beautifully. Bundled up in layered clothes, she wears a worried look just like you. But it’s because she is stressed about your concern over the wolf in agony. “He will be alright.”
The door behind her has already been shut tight as the woman urges you to sit on the closest couch. Your eyes flick back to Jimin who continues to pad down the end of the hallway, twisting into a new shape as his body slowly transforms back into a human state. It’s an image you never expected to see, completely magical and out of this world as you catch glimpses of a wolf morphing into man.
His deep groans turn more audible as his real voice is able to break free.
“Wolfsbane –” he curses out into the open as he’s hunched over. He breathes heavily, open mouth catching air for his lungs as his fingers now claw at the bloody abrasion on the left side of his chest.
From your spot on the sofa, you witness Jimin suffering in a fetal position with no clothes. He’s turned to the side, hiding what he can in his vulnerable state. His long hair, usually kept neatly pulled back, falls dramatically across his face. His nose scrunches as his lips pull back to show his seething teeth.
“Jimin!” You begin to stand up, but the woman holds her hands out before you.
“Stay, Princess! Please!” Her voice is soft.
She tries her best to be respectful, honoring your title even in the severity of a situation. “I’m his mother.” She claims before gripping a knitted wool blanket off the back of a chair and rushing over to her son.
You blink, stunned as you process all the movements and information playing out in front of you.
Jimin coughs as his head presses into the floor. You watch in horror the way Jimin’s body rejects the burn of the wolfsbane that entered his system. Jerking and moving in his place as some mystical natured element helps overcome his pain. Jimin’s mother places the blanket over Jimin, shielding him from your innocent eyes. She squats beside him, hand placing over his forehead as his face twists with strain.
“Fight it,” she encourages as she pushes back his bangs to inspect his eyes. They’re reddened on the edges. The infection attacks deeply within him. His blue shiny irises that come out when he taps into his wolf form is stationary, shining brightly as he internally battles the poisonous herb. “Push it out, you can do it.”
You catch him staring at you as he overcomes this annoyance. It’s not enough to be deadly for him, but it is a good amount to weaken his overall state for the time being. His body fights to heal properly, but he’ll be ready soon.
The first initial wave of pain eases on Jimin. You don’t notice it due to the blanket covering his body, but a small pool of tainted blood leaks out of his wound. Spoiled by the wretched poison. It’s what his body needs to do, reject it and remove it entirely from him.
“Can I help in any way?” You stand and step toward him as his panting calms.
“No, no!” Jimin’s mother’s hands shoot out, shooing you. “You don’t need to do anything! His body is healing,” she reassures. “It may not make any sense, but he is going to be good. Just give him some time. Wolves have an accelerated healing power.”
“But –” you begin to counter. You feel helpless, powerless. Your heart hurts from seeing Jimin in such a distraught state. You can’t shake the image out of your head.
“Stop,” you hear Jimin breathing out. His tenor voice aching as his body shivers. “Stay over there,” he begs. “Just give me a second, Princess.”
All you can do is wait. Watch the way the man you care for struggles with himself as his supernatural body convulses and kicks out the vicious wolfsbane as he rapidly recovers. His grunts and groans do nothing to help, making you worry even more. 
When Jimin finally settles, he lays limp on the floor. Relief washes over him as the surging pain seizes and his body begins to feel like normal once again. Sweat has slickened the roots of his hair, surely the rest of his skin expelled other toxins.
He starts to lift himself off the floor, using his arms to push him up to a sitting position first – then enough to stand. He clutches the blanket around him. Holding it tight around his waist and covering his lower region.
“Take your time,” his mother whispers. She, too, stands with him. Using her hands to help guide him if he wavers on his feet. He’s taller than her, but you can tell she’s strong from the way she helps hold her son up.
“I have to go back,” he says to her, but stares at you.
Jimin takes a few tentative steps until he catches the motion easilier. He walks over to you in concern, abandoning the dripped blood on the floorboard from where he once laid. You're shivering in place, not realizing it yourself.
“Mom, would you mind finding something the princess can change into? Clean her up a little as well?”
You waste no time rushing yourself to him regardless of Jimin pleading for you not to. That doesn’t stop the way your arms wrap around his torso, feeling the warmth of his smooth skin as you hold him. Your head curls into his shoulder as his free arm surrounds your back, pulling you against him.
“Please, be good. Back up,” he slowly walks you in his embrace. 
You feel the rumble of his voice through his chest as you press desperately against him, not wanting to let him go just yet. He’s homely like your favorite hiding place back in the castle or the comfort of your bed after a long day of duties. It feels right to be with him as your mind speaks these words of nonsense.
“Don’t leave again,” you beg as your heartstrings twinge with sadness. You think latching onto Jimin even more would be the answer of his choice, but alas it is not. His arm is placing you down on the sofa for you to sit as he kneels on the floor. Even when you try grabbing at him, he politely pushes your hands away.
“Mom,” Jimin calls out as his hands grip the bottoms of your bare feet. He runs his palms across them, feeling how frigid they’ve become. Jimin ignores the way your cold hands try to turn his head to look up at you, stubbornly keeping it down and focused on your toes. When he fails to hear a response, he shouts again, “Mom!”
“Jimin!” You call to get his attention, fingers running through his thick locks to expose his face. Cupping his cheeks doesn’t suffice either, even your attempt to tilt his jaw fails. He isn’t budging from his position.
His mother comes out of another room with an abundant amount of clothes. Each of them look heavy, thick. Enough to hopefully keep you bundled up in the chill of a winter’s night.
Jimin squeezes your feet with his hands, trying to circulate more blood flow as he tries to warm you. He suffers knowing you’re freezing, not in an ideal state. But he can also feel the way your heart pangs with confusion and hurt. He can smell the fear radiating off of your body as you process so much.
“Would you mind changing into these?” His mother comes into your view. She begins placing pieces out in order to dress. Layers ready at your will. “I can wash your nightgown. Rid you of those stains. I can try patching up the tears in your skirt.”
The doleful look in your eyes tells her enough at one glance. She sighs as a tear trickles down the bridge of your nose.
“Why won’t you look at me?” Your voice cracks mid sentence as you stare helplessly at Jimin.
It’s languid the way his eyes flick up to you, shrouded with sadness behind his lashes.
“You’re freezing,” he states.
“I’m more hurt that you won’t let me do anything for you,” you respond with irritation. “I’m fine. You’re not.” You gesture to his exposed chest, muddied with swipes of blood on his left side.
“There’s nothing there anymore. The wound is sealed already. It’s just drying blood.”
He looks down back at your feet, finally noticing his stained hands – how he’s holding you with his own filth. The thought upsets him entirely.
Abruptly, Jimin stands. Turning away from you and rushing over to the fireplace to place more wood in the burning embers. He tightens the blanket around his waist, pacing across the floor of the cabin for anything he thinks you need before he departs.
“Run a bath,” he tells his mother. “It’ll warm her up faster. Then she can change into the clean clothes.”
“I don’t want that,” you speak. “I’ll take the clothes as they are. But Jimin –”
“– I need to go back,” he whips around in his spot. Jimin is fast on his feet, gathering some more blankets and gripping your hand. “My old room is just over here. Make yourself at home. I know this isn’t ideal but it will keep you safe and warm. My mother,” Jimin glances over at her, “She’ll be a great help. Please, take care of the Princess before I return.”
You rip your hand away from Jimin while stubbornly holding your place on the couch. It’s an act you never suspected yourself to do so harshly. The appalled look on your face puzzles Jimin. Makes him look down at you in silence, awaiting for you to speak.
“No,” you stare back. “Why can’t you just stay?”
“I have a duty,” he responds just as fast. “One to serve the royal family.”
“I am the royal family!”
“I am a part of the entire pack fighting for the kingdom right now. I must be with them.”
The frustration causes your blood to boil under your skin. Heat rises to your cheeks as anger takes over. He’s staring you down. Jimin is right after all. But yet again, without him even speaking, you can hear his voice repeat the words ‘that’s selfish of you’. It rattles inside your head as your lips quiver with emotion.
You turn your head, eyes filled with sorrow dropping to your lap. The scolding fire from his bright eyes hurts you deeply. Yet he doesn’t have intentions to upset you, Jimin only wants to protect you.
“Go.”
The single word comes out so cold, so unlike your usual tone. It catches Jimin off guard.
The entire time Jimin’s mother stands in silence, trying to read the room herself as the two of you cast a tense environment. She has no place to utter a single word, not here. For a moment, she shares a cautious glance with her son. Something in her eyes that tells him that he needs to do something – say something.
“Prin –”
“– I do not want to see you.” Your voice sounds meek, on edge of falling over in the pool of emotion laying inside of you. If only he can understand how important you’ve made him in your life. How special he is and the comfort that comes with him when he’s around. Imagining him returning beaten up again bothers you. Thinking he might not come back at all is even worse.
“Just, go.” You command.
“Y/n,” Jimin speaks in a gentle voice. He steps closer to you with a heavy heart, “I’m sorry.” Slowly, he leans down to level his head with yours. It’s alright with him that you refuse to look back. Jimin knows he has your attention regardless. You feel the soft graze of his knuckle run along the edge of your jaw, surprised from the tender touch. “I really am sorry,” he smiles faintly as he leans in just enough to place his plump lips delicately on your temple.
Jimin leaves your side, turns on his heel and swiftly moves out the front door. It’s a rush from the way his body forms back into wolf and his paws press into the ground, carrying him further away from you. He wants to be here for you, but his loyalty lies deep to the guards and your family. Jimin knows you are safe, under the protection of his mother and the community surrounding the cabin. He would never just leave you.
A gust of wind blows in from outside, the chill reminding you how low the temperatures are. Jimin’s mother kindly shuts and locks the door. Silence stills softly in the ambiance of the crackling fireplace.
It breaks you knowing Jimin isn’t staying by your side. The rational side of your brain screams at you, telling you he is doing the right thing. But the emotional soft boundaries you have, that are more tender than a baby bird, weakens the further Jimin is. Like a piece of your heart constantly stripping from you. Cracking and bleeding from unreciprocated love.
The gentle face of Jimin’s mother approaches you, her soft hand places it upon your shoulder to gain your attention.
“Princess,” she begins with a kind tone. “Please know, we’ll do anything to protect you. You’re in a safe place now. My name is Mira. Let’s have you change into something warmer. I can make some tea as well.”
Her words do not stop the slow streams of tears dripping from your face. You wipe away each of them the moment they pass the curve of your cheeks, frustration and heartbreak laying deep within you.
When will he come back, you begin to wonder. Will he come back? Flashes of the ruffians and ruthlessness they project remind you how dangerous they are. What damages have they done with your family's castle? To your precious belongings?
And then it reminds you… You haven’t thought about your family. Your father and siblings, are they safe and sound? Are they escorted off the property by the guards as they clean up the mess of the intruders? How selfish of you, truly, to only think of yourself and Jimin.
Your realization serves you like the small piece of bread and tea served to you on a platter from Mira. It makes you cry more about how childish and foolish your mind is.
“He does love you,” Mira speaks again. Her eyes crinkle with wrinkles as she smiles. “He does the things he does because he loves you.”
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Jimin yearns to return to your side the moment his feet step out of his childhood home. He rushes back to the castle grounds, reconnecting with the king's royal guard and abolishing any trespasser standing in his way. He fought for hours with righteousness and duty, tearing apart men limb from limb as he dodges the poisonous silver weapons laced with a venomous herb. When the time comes that the invasion of hoodlums either retreat or have been eliminated by the brute force of the royal guard – Jimin doesn’t hesitate to rush back to you. 
He’s been given the blessing from his higher-ups. Notified that the castle will be on high alert while the rest of your family has been scattered to their own locations of safety. They too have their own personal guards who stand their grounds and hover their sides. What matters now is that the kingdom is still intact even after such a brutal attack. They are not overthrown and they will continue on as supreme rulers.
As for any hostages held from the invaders, they will be judged appropriately and prodded for questions and answers before the royal court. Jimin has seen this many times, but never to this extent. This is the first time in his line of duty that the castle was attacked – but he is thankful for the outcome.
He wouldn’t know what would have happened if it turned out different.
His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he slows his pace the moment his eyes lay on the door to his mother’s house. Inside he knows you are waiting, impatiently he assumes. But seeing your face again will give him a sense of relief. A calming vortex that sinks deep inside his body and warms his nerves.
Jimin’s blood pumps in his ears as he calls out to his mother in the form of telepathy – a unique trait wolves have with one another. An inner circle of connections that allows wolves to speak to other wolves. Mira is ready by the door, twisting the handle and allowing Jimin a swift entrance into the house.
He tries to step quietly as his heavy wolf form causes the wood flooring to creak under his steps. His pads resound a soft thud as he walks. At first, he expects to walk straight to his room as he remembered he offered you his place to rest. But as his nose picks up your immediate scent, he realizes that you’re still resting on the couch right in front of the fire.
“She hasn’t moved,” Mira murmurs under her breath. Jimin’s mother stayed up all hours he was gone, watching and keeping you company. “I’ve given her plenty of tea and washed her face with a heated cloth. I’ve kept adding more wood to the fire to help. Even in her sleep, she still shivers. She may have hypothermia,” she warns.
He wouldn’t put it past him if this is the case. You were never made for enduring February winters in just a nightgown after all. Barefooted may he add.
Jimin walks over you, his nose sniffing at your skin to seek any discomfort your body may radiate. You lay there bundled up as much as you can under heavy fabrics of wool and fur. Jimin smiles to himself fondly as he sees the way you tuck your chin into the blanket and cover your nose.
A tentative look is shared between Jimin and his mother before he nudges his head against your arms.
You rouse from your slumber momentarily and your immediate reaction is to tighten your body and move to a more comfortable position. However, Jimin doesn’t allow you. He nudges you again and this time he digs his nose between the crack of your arms, prying them open so he can slot his head through and force your arm around his neck.
Mumbling in your sleep, you groan at the annoyance of being woken up. But when you feel the soft bristles of fur against your face and the undeniable warmth coming from them, you cling onto whatever is pressing against you.
It wakes you further. Enough to make you register enough to know Jimin is in your arms right now. Your fingers cling onto him tightly, screwing them into knots as you inhale deeply into the side of his neck. He smells like the frozen forest mixed with burning embers; the smell of smoke clogging between his roots.
His warmth is what reminds you of home. It forces happiness to leak out of your eyes as a warm tear drips onto his fur the more you bury your face into him. His movement forces you to wake up, urging you with a tug to get off the couch and follow him.
Leisurely, you hang from him while he ushers you to the other room – his room. Your feet stumble as the two of you pass Mira. You don’t care how clumsy you look, you’re just happy to have Jimin back.
“Jimin,” his mother tries speaking in a hushed tone. “Remember who you are to her.”
He doesn’t stop his stride as he enters his old bedroom with you nearly hanging off of him. It’s upkept well thanks to his mom. Nothing moved or changed over the years. With a few more nudges and suggestive pushes, he has you falling into place upon the mattress. It’s low to the ground, easy for him to step on it even in wolf form and lay comfortably as you attach yourself to his back. 
This form is undoubtedly the warmest. And with his wolf form he serves as a natural furnace for you. He doesn’t mind the way your fingers dig into his fur or the way your cold body presses desperately against his. He allows anything that will warm you up.
His eyes meet his mother’s as she leans in to shut the bedroom door. Words and feelings cannot describe his unfair bond to you – but with werewolves, they have a mutual understanding of how things work.
Jimin groans with a huff before putting his head down on the bed. He stays awake, alert, and listens to the sounds and conversations running through his head. Even when the threat is over, he still stays guard. Ready to pounce on anything that comes toward you.
For now, you may sleep comfortably. Jimin will be able to tell you later about the results of the castle and your family. 
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You’re greeted by coldness as you toss and turn. The fresh chill pricks your cheeks, jolting your nerves to wake when you want nothing more than sleep. Chirps of wild birds sing outside of the window that casts a dull ray of sun into the room. It still looks dark out. There’s also an ache in your joints and muscles, particularly in your neck.
Perhaps you slept awful,  used to having your luxury linens and perfectly fluffed pillows. Instead you spent the night balled up, tight, against the only thing that holds heat.
The fire isn’t what saves you from the brisk cold of winter. It is the tender bristles of a wolf’s fur that hordes blissful heat, warmer than a copper pan filled with rocks warmed at the edge of a fire.
But you are not welcomed with that same softness of Jimin’s fur anymore. When you turn again, you realize you press against the smooth surface of his broadened back. Black ink decorates down his spine in the phases of the moon as your eyes focus from the haze of sleep. Does it make any sense to see the man you adore, shirtless with his back to you in the same bed? 
Absolutely not.
Your clogged head tries to clear the fog of confusion as you edge away from Jimin. He’s tucked under the covers, just as you. His chest rises and falls slowly, in a deep sleep. He’s more exhausted than you, his body fought all night. It makes sense he finally collapsed into a resting state; relaxed and dare you say, delicate. The branded ink shines subtly as his skin, miraculously still smooth, feels even warmer under your tender fingertips. Slowly, you trace invisible patterns onto his skin, mesmerized by the way he doesn’t pull away from you.
You feel guilty for snuggling up closer to him, knowing very well he isn’t in a conscious state for him to put you back in your place like all the other times. But you feel drawn in and addicted to his warmth and security in such a tender position.
Jimin inhales and exhales deeply, shifting his head when he feels your fingers tickle the nape of his neck. He shifts in his sleep, moving his body enough to force you to freeze. His hand reaches back, swatting away your hand as if it is a dainty bug crawling on him. But he realizes it’s nothing but a hand – your hand – and instead, he grips it. Pulling it around him and stretching your arm across his torso so that he can hold it against his chest. Jimin curls himself in a fetal position, dragging you flush against his back.
“Stop tickling me,” he murmurs in a groggy voice. He huffs out a small burst of air, humor laced with it.
Your forehead presses into his spine, a small smile creeping up on your lips.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Silence falls once again except for the subtle sounds of Jimin’s breathing. You could stay like this forever if you were able to. Ignore all responsibilities of life and stay with Jimin. Deep down, you secretly wish this. Having his protection and solace, bringing you solitude and clarity. You know that he is all you will ever need. He’s been exactly everything you need him to be in your life, even when times get tough and he guides you to do something you’re stubbornly against. It’s all for your well-being. Your overall happiness. Jimin has never steered you down the wrong path; even if it’s the path you wouldn’t pick yourself.
He is strong in many ways you aren’t. Rational and accountable. You know he will do everything in his power to let you have the perfect life and he will never leave you.
This feeling of unfulfillment with your heart always reminds you how a large piece of him belongs there. No matter how much room you make for your family and potential suitors that come your way. Nothing will fill the undeniable love you have toward your personal royal guard.
“I’m sorry,” you repeat. This time with a different reason.
You’re apologizing for yourself. For the position you put yourself in even though you never win the fight with your emotions. How you cannot control this bond between the two of you and how you cannot change the way you feel toward him. You know you could never be with a wolf, let alone your own personal guard. The years between you doesn’t matter either. Jimin still looks as you first remember him, minus the added tattoos, scars and array of hair styles he’s sported. He has always been your guard, a figure to look up to, a brother, and a best friend without being them at the same time.
The connection you feel with Jimin is unexplainable. A natural magnetic draw you feel. A compelling force screaming at you that this – he – is exactly what your mind, body, and soul needs.
“Get some more rest,” Jimin urges as he squeezes your hand a little bit tighter.
“I am being honest with you,” you declare.
“So am I,” Jimin’s sleepy voice seeps through.
Your small tiff stirs Jimin awake. He turns slowly, still maintaining his hold on your hand as he faces you. The small puff of his cheeks shows you how tired he must be as his eyes remain closed. Jimin leans in, pushing your head into his chest as he rests his face into the top of your head.
“Rosemary,” he speaks out loud. He inhales slowly, admiring the sweet scent of the herb used to wash your hair every night. “It suits you so much.”
You feel a flush of warmth coursing through your body in such an intimate position. You have never been this close or tangled with Jimin like this before. There’s faint scars across his chest from what you can see, memories of past battle wounds that cut too deep perhaps.
“Are you hurt?” You question. Wondering how his body never correctly healed these specific marks.
“Not anymore,” he hums as he pulls you in tighter.
You can hear the faint beating of his heart as you twist your head to lay against his chest. It thumps calmly, like a lullaby whispering in your ear.
“Why are you here?” You dare to question. 
A heavy thought that’s been weighing on your mind for far too long. You want to thank him for welcoming you into his solitude and keeping you warm throughout the night. Even then, you hardly remember moving from the couch to this bed. Jimin sharing a bed with you doesn’t make any sense to you. Especially how he rests with no clothes on; assumingly you believe as the blankets cover more than your eyes can see.
“Warmth,” he responds. “I had to keep you warm. But I fell asleep.”
“Why are you still here then…?”
Jimin exhales deeply. He still rests as much as he can even with your quizzing questions.
“I’m pretending I’m still dreaming.”
“Dreaming?” You blink.
“Yes.” Jimin’s hand gingerly raises to stroke the side of your head, brushing off any stray locks. His palm is so warm against you, the contact heating you instantly. “A dream. Would you like me to leave?”
“No,” you blurt out faster than you expected. “I just don’t understand,” you try leaning back to look at his face.
“Princess,” he tsks. “How can I explain this?” He questions himself more than you. Jimin places his lips on your forehead and rests them there as he contemplates his words. “A wolf cannot be mixed with a royal. But you desire a wolf. And a wolf desires you.” He hesitates with the next sentence that leaves his mouth. “However, it will never be allowed. And thus… a dream.”
“You dream of this?” You ask, stunned.
“Don’t you?” He huffed a laugh. “I know you do. There are times that I can read it all over your pretty face. I can feel it too.”
“I-I,” you feel flustered. Your feathers fluffed every which way as Jimin speaks so carelessly of such a sensitive subject.
“I know how you feel for me,” he states. “I’m sorry you do. Even when I try to keep you on the right path, show you your responsibilities and guide you to your title's destiny… you found a sanctuary in me.”
Jimin continues to stroke your face with his thumb, his nose breathes out hot air against your forehead. He caresses you tenderly, holds you dear to him as if he is afraid to let you go.
“I’ve… I have always loved you,” you confess. Swallowing thickly as your throat closes up with emotion. Jimin allows you to slide your arms around him again.
“I know. I can feel everything you feel,” he sighs. “Your happiness. Your sadness. That painstaking broken heart every time you’re forced to live your reality.”
He smiles softly against your skin, peppering small kisses where his lips rest.
“I also feel the way you can’t control your emotions. How you constantly battle with what’s right and wrong. How not a single person draws your attention more than I do. I can’t really explain how I can feel these things,” he tilts your head to look down into your eyes. “It won’t make any sense.”
In the soft morning light, his features are more admirable. His skin glows beautifully, like a natural highlight illuminating off of the edges of his face. Jimin cracks open his eyes, only slightly, to peer down at your innocent expression. A face he’s seen for many years after being scolded or pressed for answers. The beauty in his eyes, that crisp amber hue, shifts a shade darker as they land on your parting lips.
“Jimin, I don’t want this to be a dream.”
You’re honest about it. The aura of intimacy is fueling the room so purely, it’s nearly smothering. Jimin allows his walls to break down for you to enter; let’s you in his space even when it goes against everything the two of you know.
His thumb flicks your bottom lip, feeling the soft flesh under his digit. He can feel the natural draw, how his body is aching with a tantalizing need to kiss you. To have you, just for now, before he must go back to reality.
“I’ll do anything for you,” he declares as he looks down at you sadly. “I devoted myself the very first moment I saw you.” His breath shakes as he lets out a breath he was holding.
“Princess,” he begins, the small curve of his lips upturning. He knows this is dangerous, it’s not allowed. Years of pining and rejecting you, fearing the system of the world and the way of life, he’s taking his one and only opportunity to be selfish. A thing you know so very well. Jimin leans down, lips nearly brushing yours, “Please forgive me.”
Your lips press together in a gentle embrace. He pours his unannounced love for you with this kiss; all those years of pent-up, hopeless desires and unfathomable attachment finally burst through with the only way he can show you. 
There’s no way of telling how long your kiss lasts; and eternity sounds like an understatement. Your breath hitches in your throat, surprised by the act and realism of Jimin – the man you’ve grown to love throughout all these years – has committed such a sinful, yet delightful, treason for the sake of his own greed. The same act you do not disgust, appall, or dislike. You greet it, after a few moments of shock, with happiness. A passion of feeling what you pined for all this time. Acceptance, understanding, and need.
Jimin’s warm fingers run along the side of your face and down the length of your arm. “Pretend it’s just a dream.” He smiles in between kisses.
A subtle tear breaks the brim of your eye as you capture Jimin in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. You bring him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and tasting his tongue in your mouth. 
When it’s just a dream, you’re allowed to cross the lines of right and wrong. Do the things you want to do, impulsively or not. That’s why you don’t bother to wait when you desperately cling to him, tangling your soft fingers through his messy hair. You feel the way Jimin presses himself into you, not a care of his royal guard status or what your title is. He brings his love out to another being – you.
You feel the gentle pull of his hands at the lining of your padded clothes. There’s so much keeping you bundled, but he’s sure he can keep you warm with his body. His hands roam under the fabrics, feeling the touch of the soft skin of your hip. He skirts his hand up your back, pressing his palm onto you to drag you into him.
“Are you sure?” You question him as if you’re being fooled. Tricked into thinking this truly is a dream and not something you will remember.
“I’ve never wanted something so desperately,” he admits with no embarrassment. “So many times I’ve had to tell you to look away from me. Entertain these other suitors… It hurts. But I know I will always be there for you even if your feelings aren’t as they are now. Even if you didn’t feel for me. I can’t help that. I’m bound to you.”
Your eyes roam the expanse of his body that you can see against the pale sheets of his old mattress. His words send glee to your heart. Had you known this hurts him as much as it hurts you, you would do something about it. Find a way to make something work. There must be a way.
“I’m sorry for being so distant with you in regard to your emotions. But, I do it to protect you. I’m not right for you.” Jimin whispers as his lips reconnect with yours. A carnal desire brewing deep inside of him, no doubt inside of you too.
“Jimin,” you whimper against his mouth. The crack in your voice is threatening to snap.
“Tell me to stop.”
“Don’t,” you sniffle. 
Your head is a clutter of sensitive emotions ransacking your brain. Clouding your headspace as if you are in a daydream. But you accept it. Allow this illusion, real or not, to be as real as it can ever get.
You accept him and this moment of time.
The heat of Jimin’s body keeps you warm from the chilled air outside of the sheets. Slowly, he shifts to have you laying on your back as his body crawls over you. Jimin plants soft and wet kisses down your jawline to a sweet spot on the side of your neck, multitasking with the buttons of your thick clothes.
The second he is able to free portions of your body from the garments, his skin slides over yours. Touching every delicately smooth surface of your body. Rising goosebumps through each sway of his fingers across every inch. You melt into his touches, a quiet whimper and pleasant hum escaping your nose.
“You’re so beautiful,” he comments as he levels his head with yours. He takes a moment to peer down at your morning face, admiring the way you look even with a rough night. Jimin remembers your eyes the most. How genuine and curious they are. He reminisces about the first time; when a shot of an electrifying spark penetrated his entire being because of his imprinting nature… how it connected him to you for as long as you live. “I will never lose you.”
Jimin can feel the way your body speaks to him. How together all your nerve endings and atoms feel as if they join like a perfect puzzle. It leads him further to your core, trailing his hand tentatively as he waits for a clear sign for him to continue.
He presses himself gently against you, showing you his growing need for you. The hardened appendage pokes you like a soft tapping on a door, trying to be as polite as possible.
You take his face in your hands, pulling him down for another emotional kiss. You nod to him, giving him the clearing to roam your most secretive bits.
After removing the access clothing from your legs, his fingertips glide up your inner thighs. He shivers when he inhales suddenly, taking in the small whiff of your scent. Instinctively, and almost casually, you bend your knee to allow more access for him.
Jimin’s fingers ghost over your core, brushing against the edges before feeling the slick heat from your lower lips. He teases you at first but not on purpose. Jimin swallows nervously, fighting with his body to remind himself to take things slow.
He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at the plump piece of flesh as his index finger runs down your slit. You shutter with a breath of hot air blowing out, enjoying the foreign touch.
Unsure what to do with your hands, you begin to run them down his hard chest to mimic the similar style of approach he does on you. Though you’re halted the moment you hit his navel by his hand.
“Allow me to focus on you,” he requests in a soft tone. He raises your knuckles to his mouth where he plants a chaste kiss to them.
He suggests for your hands to remain away as he descends down the valley of your breasts. Each tender kiss he leaves to your feverish skin in the commute to your lower region has you squirming. You hoist the blankets over your body as Jimin disappears underneath them, taking the heat too. He’s able to maneuver skillfully between your legs, slotting himself neatly as you spread them wider.
You don’t get to see the way Jimin licks his lips when his eyes focus on your core for the first time. How your scent hits his nose at full force, reminding him how beautifully wet you’re becoming with the tension built up around you. His finger returns to you, sliding down your slit and nudging against your clit. It causes you to jolt, instinctively closing your legs around him as much as possible. But he keeps them open with his hands and body as he moves closer.
Peeking under the covers, you see the dark hair of Jimin sinking between the junction of your thighs. You capture the scene, branding it in your memory the moment Jimin’s mouth abruptly comes down on to your clit. You cry out, gripping the blankets in hard fists as his tongue languidly flicks over your sensitive bud as his finger teases your entrance.
“Shh,” he tries to tame you when he inserts his finger into you. You clench tightly, shift your legs even more as your body adjusts to Jimin.
He’s wondering what you’ll feel like if he inserts another, if it’ll pull another whimper and a moan from you. And he has to; to spread your entrance wider and stretch your walls open enough to allow him inside. Prepare your body for the intrusive thoughts bleeding into his mind of your body shaking under him with pleasure.
Jimin curls his fingers once he adds a second one into the mix, slowly pumping them in you at a steady pace as his lips caress your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks your bud so dangerously, it makes you cry out even louder and begins to disturb the silent winter morning air.
His free hand comes down to your waist to stop your hips from bucking into him. Jimin releases his mouth from you and calms his fingers as he hushes you once again.
“Quiet, Princess. Please.”
“Jimin, I-I’m-” You pant softly. Your chest shakes with the rise and fall and intense pounding of your heart.
“Don’t be sorry,” he interjects. Jimin slides himself up your body again while still securing his fingers inside your core. “I know it’s hard to not be loud.” He places a kiss to your cheek before finding your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his plump lips. Gently, he adds a third finger into your entrance and captures your whine with a sealed kiss.
He uses this moment to experimentally widen your walls with the scissoring effect of his fingers. Fighting off the impulsive clench your body naturally does. When his thumb presses into your clit your body jumps.
Your hands rush to his head, combing through his hair as you fight to anchor yourself on something.
Jimin winces from the strength and harsh pull, but he doesn’t let it bother his actions. Instead, he is kissing your neck again as his hand wraps around your back. He lifts you up like it’s easy until you’re straddling his lap, legs still parted wide for him. Jimin removes his fingers from you, allowing him to push you closer against his hardness. The contact makes his neglected member flinch with excitement.
Your cheeks prick with sparks of warmth as you look Jimin in the eyes again. Both completely naked and in each other's own embrace. Your hot slick presses against his shaft and Jimin cannot help but use his hand to push you into him again.
The blankets have fallen around the two of you, leaving Jimin’s strong muscles to hold you upright on top of him and exposed for him and only him.
“You can’t tell anyone…” he begins as his lips lock with yours. “What happens here must stay here.”
“But what if I don’t want that?” You ask, catching your breath in between kisses.
“Want and need are two different things.”
“I want both of those though,” you exclaim. “I want and need you, Jimin.”
He silences you again, but this time with his tongue. He dives deep into your mouth, groaning with the taste of you that excites him.
“Don’t ever speak of this,” he reminds you. “You mean more to me than you can ever imagine. You’re special to me, Y/n. You will always have me.”
Your heart tightens in your chest as you hear his sincere words. Relief is an understatement. The reassurance and verbal notice of Jimin’s confession is enough to send you to cloud nine. His loyalty and dedication to your family's name isn’t the only thing he cares for. The importance of you and how you are something more to him sends your heart into eternal bliss. Maybe all it took is to finally hear it from the source.
“I’ve always loved you,” you declare as if Jimin never knew this himself. 
He nods, leaning in to capture another kiss from you as your hands tugs on his shoulders. Your mouths move together so perfectly, reminding you how you want nothing more than to do this for the rest of your life. Lightly, your clit brushes against his hardened and untouched dick. The sensation of how close you are to it sends excitement through your body, arousing you more as you desperately rock against him for more stimulation with his help. Your slick drips along his lap, making the glide easier for you.
You admire the tip of his cockhead pointing up toward you, silently requesting to be touched.
“Help me,” you whisper as your legs try to help raise you above him.
Jimin positions his cock when you’re hovering over him. Your arousal drips teasingly over him, dressing the mushroom head of his tip in a shiny coat. He breathes out a strangled breath as the curse word ‘shit’ runs out of his lips. 
Slowly, you drop down on Jimin’s cock. Allowing him to stretch you open as the first inches penetrate you. He holds you up, allows you to sink down at your own pace as both your mouths open with pleasurable surprise. A silent gasp leaves the two of you breathless as you sit flush against him, ignoring any prickling pain as your walls flutter around his cock. Squeezing and unsqueezing rigorously as your head tosses back with eyes screwed shut. Jimin groans with a string of incoherent words, muffled by the way he presses his lips into the side of your neck.
“Oh,” you whimper. 
Knees already threatening to buckle and morph into jelly, your hands hold onto Jimin’s sturdy shoulders when you look down between the two of you. There’s fascination running through you as you watch the way your breasts rub against his chest each time your body moves down his; watching the way he disappears inside of you and filling you up.
The two of you moan in unison as you experimentally roll your hips into him. Jimin’s fingers tighten around your thighs, jerking his hips up to meet yours. He keeps a leisurely pace with you as he wishes nothing but to make you feel pleasurable. You can feel the way your orgasm slowly builds within you as you hold Jimin’s head closer against your neck. A desperate way of holding onto something while you begin to tremble with sensitivity.
“Is it too much?” He questions as he holds you impossibly closer to his body.
You breathe deeply, clutching his cock with your walls.
“No,” you choke out. “I need more.”
Jimin pulls you off of him to greet your face with his. He lays you down expertly, letting your body rest soft against the mattress again. Jimin is able to hook his arm around one of your legs and gently lifts it higher, testing the new angle and watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. 
You cry out his name as you feel his cock run across a specific spot inside of you, making your toes curl and back arch. The sparks in your body flying like lightning in the sky.
There’s a tightness in your stomach that shoots down to your lower region, alerting you of your approaching orgasm. Jimin notices from the way you shake with each thrust he gives. He holds your legs wide, allowing deeper access to push into you as his abdomen flexes every time his body bangs into yours.
“Like this?” He breaths out, a glimpse of blue shining from his eyes.
“K-keep… Y-yes,” you moan, feeling him hit every mark with this new angle.
Jimin lowers himself down to catch your lips with his, closing your mouth and muffing your noises to the best of his abilities. He absolutely loves hearing the sounds of your whimpers and pleasure, but he’s not trying to allow everyone else to hear them.
Another quick and particular movement of Jimin’s hips has you coming undone beneath him, bucking your hips up to match his thrusts as you squeeze tight around him. You feel the way your nails dig into his shoulders as you shake uncontrollably as Jimin continues to thrust through your orgasm. The sounds of your bodies colliding heightens with squelching noises, your dripping arousal coating his entire pelvis and leaking onto the sheets below.
With a few more sharp thrusts, Jimin pulls out of you and spills his seed onto your stomach. Dressing your smooth skin with strings of milky residue. You catch the ending bit, watching the way his cum spurts out of his cockhead as Jimin presses his pelvis down, using both him and you to squeeze his slick-hardened cock.
Jimin moans with you, still molding your lips together as he holds you close to him. When the two of you calm down from the euphoric sensations, he places his forehead against yours. He looks down at you with soft and serene eyes. Filled with love and adoration. This new sense of energy and vulnerability flows through him.
It’s happiness he shares with you when you both shyly smile at another. Ignoring all the heated labor breathes and dampened hairlines. You get lost in his eyes, wishing that the crisp amber coloring is the solution to all your worries and problems. And in some ways – they are.
“I love you.”
Jimin speaks calmly as he declares his emotions for you. His lips press into yours once more to seal his statement.
You can’t help but look up at him with watery eyes. You want to burst into a full blown cry when you see the way his eyes glisten too, but you don’t. Not wanting to spoil the moment of sincerity for either of you.
“I love you too,” you respond as you brush strands of fringe away from his softening face. It’s almost long enough to tuck behind his ear, which you scowl when you watch the piece fall right back in his face.
You share a soft chuckle with him as he moves slowly, making sure to not spread the mess on your stomach everywhere.
“I’ll clean us up and we can go back to resting for a bit.”
“Okay,” you smile softly. Your hands begin to cover yourself the further Jimin pulls away from your body. 
Jimin is quick to find a feasible cloth from the corner of the room and just as fast to return to you on the bed. He wipes you off first, as he should, before cleaning himself. He kneels down on the mattress as you try to subtly admire his entire naked body. Realizing he is still so unfairly beautiful without the suited armor and clothing he usually wears.
“I should have you know, now that you’re awake…” he huffed a laugh. Jimin slides himself under the covers, meeting your body with his. His arm crosses over your torso, hand running down the other side of you until he pulls you close by the waist. “Your family is safe. We defeated the threat last night and your castle will undergo some reconstruction from the damages. But everything is maintained again. I’m sure we will have to return within the day.”
The news makes you happy. The outcome could have been far worse in many ways. But hearing these words from Jimin is comforting. It makes you proud and grateful for him. You aren’t sure what the future will bring. How this dreamy secret must never be spoken about. What this could all mean now. But what you do know, is that he loves you too, and that is enough for now.
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Moodboard credit: @/kth1
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© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.
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0tivez · 9 months
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i loved your gojo fic so much!! can i request an nsfw a to z with gojo <3
gojo a to z analysis
note: thank you anon! i've been meaning to do something like this for so long! for everyone, my requests are open! send me anything you'd like :)
warnings: nsfw, established relationship, gender neutral reader. mdni.
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⁜ A = Aftercare ⁜
this is a rough one, because i feel like sometimes he would, and sometimes he wouldn't. for someone he loves or at least cares about, i think he would do it gladly. but for a one night stand with a stranger, he would take care of himself and expect the other person to leave.
⁜ B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's) ⁜
i have a feeling that Gojo likes his arms the most. i can imagine him flexing his arms all the time. he also loves sitting while crossing his arms, he knows it's a distraction for many. he likes how veiny they get from adrenaline rush.
as for his partner's, he's definitely an ass guy. he loves when you wear a tight jean that perfectly envelops your ass. he loves grabbing it, he'll grab it in public. he also does the lara jean hand in back pocket thing all. the. time. it's also his favorite place to cum.
⁜ C = Cum (anything to do with cum) ⁜
he hates using condoms. he has great self-control (thankfully) and knows when to pull out. he loves cumming on your ass and back the most, because those are the only times he can control himself. your face is like aphrodisiac to him, he can't contain himself at the sight of your face covered in his cum. it's a treat he only allows himself every now and then.
⁜ D = Dirty Secret ⁜
when you're away for something (a work trip, vacation etc.) he uses your underwear to masturbate. your underwear drawer is like a goldmine for him. he always feels like such a pervert, but he can't help it.
he also has a secret drawer full of your nudes, or pictures he took of you post-sex.
⁜ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) ⁜
very much, but for the most part. he's a man of one night stands, so it's not usual for him to have casual sex with a partner. he was surprised at first, because he's usually doing whatever he wants, and doesn't care if the other person likes it or not. but with you, it took him a while to understand what you prefered, what you disliked and so on. so, while he's very experienced at sex, he wasn't well adjusted at first. so, in that sense, you were a first for him.
⁜ F = Favorite Position ⁜
doggy. he just loves hitting it from the back. you're also easier to maintain control of when you're on all fours. he loves how big his hand looks while grabbing your shoulders or your waist. he enjoys missionary too, but for him, that's for slower nights where you two want to enjoy being together, making love if you will, rather than seeking pleasure. he also loves lotus position. he loves how warm it is, how intimate you two become. he loves having you inside his arms while you huff and puff on his neck.
⁜ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) ⁜
definitely goofy most of the time. he doesn't take himself too seriously when he's with you, because he's comfortable around you. but for anyone else, he would be serious, cold, and dismissive. but don't think you'll fly under the radar if he's angry, he's gonna be serious with you in that case too. but all the other times, he's really funny. i also think he'd be talking shit behind others' back while talking about his day mid sex, making you hysterically laugh at his innocent annoyance.
⁜ H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) ⁜
hmmm... unpopular opinion, but i think he'd be completely shaven. he gives me the type to want his partners to be hairless too. but normally, yeah, the carpet matches the drapes. so it wouldn't matter too much if he grew them out, but he likes not having anything.
⁜ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) ⁜
romantic sex with him is occasional. he has a high sex drive, and would have sex every day if he could. although, of course, he shows his love during the moment, his true love making is more rare. he's harsh with his moves 98% of the times, so it's hard to be romantic about that. but there are more intimate, vulnerable times where he just wants to enjoy making love with you, slowly as he feels the love for as long as possible.
⁜ J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon) ⁜
he masturbates in the shower. he prefers not to masturbate at all and would very much rather a quickie instead. but if he needs to, he'll prefer doing jacking off in the shower.
he's also very casual about it. if you're not in the mood, he'll just do it himself without being offended or anything.
but there are times where he threathens to masturbate if that makes sense. like, "be good and do what i want, or i'll have to do it myself"
he also has a silly fake name for masturbation that he uses just for fun. like idk "going to town" or "taking junior out for lunch" or something. yeah he unironically calls his dick satoru jr.
⁜ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) ⁜
somnophilia: he'd love to fuck you while you murmur his name in your sleep. imagining how you might see him in your dream drives him crazy and he can't contain himself. he'd fuck you while imagining all the ways you must be dreaming about him (of course he'll make sure you consent to it beforehand).
size kink: he loves feeling big and strong over you. he loves having power in the bedroom. he loves how much he stretches you with just two fingers.
shibari: he's big for restriction in general, but he'd go absolutely crazy if you were to surprise him wrapped like a gift.
exhibitionism: he'd love to fuck you in front of someone else as you cry with pleasure, praising how good he feels. he would love showing you off to someone else as he watches you lose your mind under his touch, to show how good you are for him and for him only.
spit: it's a form of discipline, if you may. if you act out, he'll tell you to open your mouth and spit in it, and order you to swallow. he'll praise you when you do it.
⁜ L = Location (favorite places to do the do) ⁜
everywhere around the house is okay for him, but he also likes having sex in semi-public spaces. dressing rooms, secret corners of beaches, a dark alleyway, elevator, hotel balcony... the possibility of getting caught makes him excited, even though he knows that will never be the case.
⁜ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) ⁜
teasing playfully turns him on. he loves it when you're bratty. he loves it when you challenge him by either betting on something ("you'd last 5 minutes if i wore this") or telling him he couldn't do something ("no, you couldn't fuck me till i get a hoarse voice") (he did)
your moans and begs get him going. calling his name in pain and pleasure, that's his fuel. he loves being praised, being told how good he makes you feel, how handsome he is, how big he is and such. he'd cum on the spot if you ever tell him you love him.
⁜ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) ⁜
hmmm age play is definitely a no no for him. baby talk etc. grosses him out. he also wouldn't want you to pretend to be one of his students. piss, scat etc. i think those are also given, he'd be weirded out by them. i guess any kind of bodily fluid other than spit, cum, or blood would be a turn off for him. i can see that there are times where a little blood turns him on tho.
also, hot take, but he doesn't like period sex. it's just messy all around. in the shower? maybe. he might have to give it a try first, but the idea in general turns him off.
⁜ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) ⁜
loves getting head, and would expect to receive a good one. kinda a head pusher tbh. but he'd be down to give you head too. and for someone who doesn't do it very often, he's very skilled. if you ask for him to eat you out, he won't say no, but might expect the same in return. you have a stressful day and need to relax? he's already down on his knees.
also big on 69.
⁜ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) ⁜
painfully fast almost all of the time. he has high stamina too, so he'll go on and destroy your insides until you can't walk. he'd slow down if you begged enough tho.
⁜ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) ⁜
he loves morning quickies, but other than that, he prefers having normal, long paced sex. he'd like to have a quickie before he gets to work, or when you two are outside and he needs to release.
⁜ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) ⁜
satoru loves riskiness. the possibility of being caught makes him thrilled. he already has almost no shame, so the risk is just another adrenaline rush factor for him. not that he cares about it tho.
⁜ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) ⁜
no need to be unrealistic, i don't expect him to do more than 1 round. 2 is extremely rare. he has high stamina, so his 1 orgasm takes like 2-3 of yours. he has high libido tho, and would have sex multiple (3 at most i would say) times a day. but he definitely needs some time off between each round.
⁜ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) ⁜
he doesn't own any toys, other than the ones you already own. he's not fully against the idea of using toys, but he would rather do the job himself. if you offer to use it, he would get very offended and put out a show. but other than that, there are times where he likes teasing you with a vibrator or dildo.
now that i think about it, he would probably buy you a jewelled plug as a gift. a baby blue jewelled one.
⁜ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) ⁜
lol that's not even up for debate. he's a fucking tease. he enjoys messing with you, he'll do anything to make you frustrated. in the bedroom, outside the bedroom, anywhere and everywhere.
for one, he enjoys edging you. he'll make you climax only to leave you unfinished and frustrated. he'll make you swear at him, insult him, even hit him.
and he'll tease you about anything you do during sex, and do it anywhere. outside with your friends? "you remember how much you begged me to fuck you last night?" your family? "he calls me daddy too" like this man has no shame.
⁜ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) ⁜
to your surprise, gojo is incredibly vocal. he doesn't hide his pleasure. his moans will be both growl-like and whiny. you love the latter more. his voice cracks in between moans and he sounds so desperate, which is ironic since he loves dominating you in bed. that's the only thing he'll compromise.
⁜ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) ⁜
he loves using his blindfold as a leash on you. he'll wrap it around your neck and grips on it tightly as he fucks you from behind
⁜ X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) ⁜
okay our lanky boy propoganda is proven false with recent manga chapters, this guy's buff and huge. though i would still say his length is his greater power, not his thickness, which imo makes his dick boyfriend dick. he knows how to utilize it well too. he can initiate pain or fuck without it if he wants to. red, sensitive tip. has one long vein all along his length. shaven completely.
⁜ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) ⁜
the way i answered all of them in just one of these damn 😭 anyways still, he'll want in when he wakes up, during the day, and before bed. this man's always erect and ready to go. he'll even offer to come over where you work just to have a quickie with you. in his car, in your office, in his office, wherever. always asks for nudes, always sends you nudes, 24/7 spamming nsfw messages and memes. he's like a teen who found a box of low quality 80s porn in his garage in a dusty box and told everyone about it. it's sometimes cute, he can be funny about it. but there are times where he sends shit that actually end up turning you on. and within 3 seconds, he's got you laying on your desk with the tall man between your legs.
⁜ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) ⁜
even if he's too tired, he won't fall asleep before you, because he loves watching you slowly fall asleep. he'd want to cuddle you, have pillowtalk with you, play with your skin, your hair, and watch you fall asleep on his chest while wondering what the hell he did to deserve someone like you.
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send me requests or else
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