#and making their own way in the world which i feel like is v different from you know meeting in different eras of life

[baratiddyappreciator]

Can you please do the baki boys for the first time meeting their S/Os child that is either from a past relationship or just adopted a while back. I really feel like Restu and Koshou will not really have a general idea of how to interact but they're really trying to get along ^v^

P.s the kid really like dinosaur to the point that they start calling the baki boys different dinosaur names 💕

Oh this wins for the cutest ask I've ever gotten!! Thank you!!! I'm operating off of the basis that they know the reader already has a kid and that this isn't just a "oh btw I have a child. Surprise!" type deal. Also I am SO SORRY that this took so long lmao.

Baki:

Awkward as hell. He knows you have a kid, and you'd been talking about introducing them for a while but he was so worried that this kid wouldn't like him and that you'd leave him because of it, but He apparently had literally nothing to worry about because he immediately got roped into playing with your kids toy dinosaurs in a dramatic re-creation of the moment the meteor hit, and they then proceeded to throw a temper-tantrum when it was time for him to leave. Safe to say, Baki stayed the night.

They bond very quickly, to the point where Baki just full on accepts "yes, this is fatherhood, I am prepared for fatherhood, this is my child as well." He isn't the step father, he's the father that stepped up. He's fiercely protective of your kid, and nobody, not even his father, is going to mess with them if he can help it.

Speaking of Yujiro, he throws a bit of a fit that Baki so quickly takes in another man's child because "The Bloodline Must Continue" but he gets over it pretty quick, seeing this one as more of a practice run for Baki for when it comes time for him to have his own kids, because surely this is just temporary... Right?

He introduces the kid to the other fighters in the arena. By the end of introductions, this kid has gained several uncles and a few grandpas. At that point, just accept that you're going to have a lot of people in your house spending time with your kid. Which, on the plus side: free babysitting, and you kid will literally be the safest person in Japan. Possibly the whole world if they can win over Yujiro enough to be seen as respected, but too pathetic to even think of fighting.

If they do wind up pestering you for another sibling, they're going to have to wait. Baki's got no problem with making them an older sibling, but he's barely an adult himself. That can wait until he's got some stuff sorted out on his end and you've both had the chance to have a long talk about your future together.

Learning about your kids love of dinosaurs is something that benefits Baki because he also loves dinosaurs and he can take the chance to flex that he's eaten t-rex meat before. If your child is given the opportunity to watch Baki fight, they'd probably nickname him after some form of dromaeosaur, likely velociraptor because he may be small but he's damn deadly given the chance. Bonus points if they have trouble pronouncing it, like kids often do, so it just sounds garbled in that cute way.

Hanayama:

It takes a while for him to agree to meet your kid. Not because he's scared, but because he's not nearly patient enough to be near kids for extended periods of time. If your kid is rowdy and loud, there is a very high chance that Hanayama will simply ignore them given the chance, but a more mellow child wins him over pretty quickly. Especially if they're happy to just sit there and chill out for a while, though his boys don't mind roughhousing with them if they need to get some energy out. Hanayama is an intimidating man, and likely even more so in the eyes of a child, but if they can be brave and trust you then they gain a staunch protector.

It's a slowly established bond, but once it's in place it's unbreakable. Even if you and Hanayama wind up splitting, he's going to be in that kid's life. He's at every event, big or small. Even if he gets dragged into a fight, he's normally ale to finish it up quickly enough to still make it on time as long as they don't mind him looking a bit rough and not picking them up as eagerly because he's probably at least a little bit sore. This kid now has not only a super tough father-figure, but a large system of uncles and cousins too!

Said uncles and cousins are also incredibly devoted, you will walk into your own home and find them just chilling with your child like "Oh tell uncle Kizaki how your day was! Any trouble?" Just know that if they're ever bullied... Well, simply put, no they won't, because that gets very swiftly shut down by the bullies parents. Nobody wants to deal with the yakuza, this group especially considering how scary Hanayama can be when those he cares about are put in harms way.

He's reluctant to bring the kid around other fighters purely for the reason that he's not there as much as the others. He knows that he can keep them safe, but it's a matter of protecting both you and your child from any unfavorable individuals that might show up to challenge the other fighters, though they definitely get to know Baki because of how close he and Hanayama are.

Your kid can pester you as much as they want for another sibling, Hanayama's waiting for a few more years before he even considers having a kid, especially because they'd take up the mantle of the family after he's gone. While he definitely doesn't mind having a kid, he's nowhere near ready right now. In the meantime, they can play with the kids of the gang members have have them.

Your kid likes dinosaurs? Cool. He doesn't have any real strong opinions on dinosaurs. Granted, the first time your kid looked him dead in the eyes and told him that he reminded them of an ankylosaurus, he did feel a bit weak in the knees because nobody has ever basically outright told him that he's a tanky hard-hitter quite like that. He's happy to be their ankylosaurus, he loves the kid and that's pretty final. Besides, it's not like anyone's going to say anything to him about it.

Chiharu:

It also takes him a while to meet your child, but not because he doesn't want to or is nervous (he is nervous, but he won't tell you that), he's just a genuinely busy guy. He's got some stuff to get done, making sure that not only is he safe, but that you and your child are safe too. He does have enemies in his line of "work" that wouldn't be above using some pretty deplorable methods to get their point across. When he does finally meet your kid though, he's shockingly calm, eager to meet them and happy to be there! They want to play? Hell yeah, he'll get on the ground and playing with them within the first five minutes, and they are inseparable. He doesn't want to leave, he winds up sleeping on your couch, passed out watching a movie with your child. Land Before Time, specifically, because he has TASTE!

Bond established within five minutes. Really, all that needed to be said was "Hi! I like dinosaurs!" and Chiharu was won over. He bonds with kids so easily it's almost scary, but it's because he's got an incredibly sense of whimsy and can easily see things the way that kids do. You may see a messy pile of leaves, but Chiharu sees a potential castle. He's perfectly happy to take your child under his wing. He's honestly more of a cool older brother than a father figure, but he's got his moments of paternal wisdom, such as telling them not to lick batteries or stick a fork in the electrical outlets. Really, common sense things, but sometimes kids just need to be told not to do dangerous stuff.

Much like with Hanayama's guys, his guys don't mind spending time with your kid. That's their bosses adopted little one, and they're going to treat them like family regardless. That is their little buddy now, and nobody is gonna get between them and their little buddy. They'll always have a ride to and from school, they'll always have someone able to bring them snacks or lunch, and they have an entire army of bodyguards at their beck and call.

No hesitation, just "THIS IS MY MINI ME!! LOOK UPON THEM AND WEEP BECAUSE YOU WILL NEVER BE HALF AS COOL AS US!" And you know what? He's right. The two of them are cool, and your kid has become his mini-me. When they're old enough, if they wanted a tattoo, Chiharu would 100% take them to get one where he got his. It's good quality, and his partner in crime deserves only the best of the best! The other fighters will probably get attached too, because being around Chiharu is bound to increase the confidence of any child.

Your kid wants a little sibling? Well, shit, better start building that crib because he won't hesitate to give them exactly that. He'll take your opinion into consideration. If he could spontaneously pop out a kid himself, he would. Rest assured, him being unable to do this is a good thing, otherwise you'd both have about 10 toddlers to take care of on top of your own child. If you're persuasive enough though, you can convince him to just wait a little bit. Unless, of course, you are also spontaneous, in which case, congratulations, another child is on their way! Be it adopted or biological, this one will absolutely just wind up being another Chiharu 2.0, though if that's a good thing is up to you.

He'd probably get called Pterodactyl or something along those lines because of his back tattoo, but also: He's bird-like in his tendencies. He wears the nickname with pride though, and he doesn't need an explanation. Any nickname given to him by your little one is going to stick no matter what, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Hell, he'll even do his best to come up with a good one for your kid in return, his dino knowledge is, admittedly, very limited.

Katsumi:

Perfectly at ease, an absolute natural when it comes to stuff like this, despite never potentially being a father himself. Literally almost everyone loves him, so he's not too worried about your kid taking a liking to him as well, but that doesn't mean he won't try to win them over first. Bribes are brought and provided (with your permission, of course). Even if they like him right away, he's very quickly cemented as a favorite in their books because of all the cool stuff that he brought! He's not above getting on the ground and playing around with them too. Leaving them alone together is dangerous however, because you'll come back and Katsumi has taught your kid how to punch through a wooden board, and your coffee table is now less structurally sound than it was the last time you were in the room.

There's a very strong bond, but it takes a while to actually set in. Katsumi isn't worried about it being an instant thing, he knows that these things take time, probably better than anyone else, and he's definitely not going to push. That being said, he thinks he's doing worse than he really is. They don't talk to him about something because they got distracted and he immediately jumps to "oh god, they hate me, I need to call my dad for help because I can't have my beloved's kid hate me!" Even if it's your younger sibling being protective because that's just how kids can be sometimes. He immediately goes running to Doppo for help, only to basically be told to calm down.

Yeah, this child absolutely will be absorbed into Katsumi's friend group. They're going to grow up calling Katou and Suedo their uncles, and they're absolutely going to be able to keep up with their quips and jabs. Congrats, you're now raising a witty karate nerd and their three mentors. Of course, Doppo and Natsue are there to help if need-be, so you at least have reliable baby-sitters that are always willing to take the little one so you and Katsumi can go on a date or even if you just need a minute, even if it's just to sit down and not do anything for a hot minute.

This is his star pupil. Adults that have trained under him for months? Years? Nothing in comparison to the bond between Katsumi and his new partner in crime. And they do commit crimes. Innocent crimes, to be fair, but still crimes. One will distract you while the other steals food and snacks for the both of them. If they get caught, then they're making a break for it and you'll never catch up to them until they come back later with puppy eyes wanting more food, and you won't even be able to stay mad, because they just look so innocent and adorable (they aren't, they have committed crimes and will commit them again), so surely a little treat before supper couldn't hurt!

A sibling? They want a sibling? A niece or nephew?? His body is ready, he'll get pregnant if he has to. He doesn't care if it's impossible, his little baby will get whatever they want from him and they know it too. He's the worst at saying no, and eventually his partner in crime learns this. You're going to have to help Katsumi when it comes to letting the little ball of energy down easy. That being said, him actually telling them no will take a few years, though it's going to take a while for him to actually get the hang of it without feeling guilty.

Katsumi will most likely get called Stegosaurus, especially if he ever demonstrates his skills anywhere in front of this small, impressionable child. Is it to brag? Probably. Is it to show how cool karate is so they agree to take lessons? Mayhaps. Does he get upset about this? No, absolutely not, and the second this small human learns that Katsumi once fought a caveman, it's all over, they're gonna be asking a billion questions and Katsumi will barely be able to keep up. They'll convert him to the dark side (liking dinosaurs) in no time, just watch.

Jack:

He's so quiet. Just in general, yes, but beyond saying hi, he's not doing much initially, just sorta relaxing. There's no reason for him to get worked up, the kid's not going to be able to do anything to him, and he doubts that you'd ever leave him just because he was being himself around someone. As for the reaction to meeting Jack, there's most likely going to be either "WOAH! That guy's HUGE!!" and "Woah. That guy's huge." though after the first few minutes they'll likely realize that Jack is pretty chill. They'll most likely wind up sitting together and watching a movie, and because it's Jack he's going to want to sleep over so he can get his cuddles in before he has to go back to working out.

Any bond with Jack comes with the assurance that he's not going anywhere unless you either act like a jerk or unless you ask him to leave, and that's the same case for this child. All it takes is him being there during a few nightmares or rough days for them to realize that Jack is, simply put, there for them. He's going to be just as protective of them as he is of you as well, you're both a part of his family now and nobody is going to bother either of you on his watch. Once they get more comfortable with each-other, they'll likely rough-house a bit. Jack controls his strength well, and the kid doesn't have to worry about hurting him, so be prepared to just occasionally watch them get tossed onto the couch by Jack, only to run over begging for it to be done again.

Yujiro might give Jack a hard time about not having kids of his own and taking care of someone else's child, but Jack honest to god doesn't care. Yujiro can keep yapping at him, he's perfectly happy doing what he's doing, which is most likely enjoying a really nice outing with you, your kid as well as Baki and Kozue, he's not about to let his old man ruin that. One of the few times Jack might actually crack back at Yujiro, because while this isn't his kid, at least he's parenting. Will that start a fight? There's a decent chance Yujiro might be insulted enough, but it's the truth and deep down he knows it, so he can't really say anything.

Jack doesn't really care if he introduces them (and you) to the other fighters or not. These are good people who wouldn't hurt either of you, and if they were then you wouldn't even know about them. The first person he introduces the both of you to is Tokugawa, he needs to get the old man's approval to bring you two around to the arena on occasion, though Baki isn't long after for an introduction. He'll want all of the important people in his life to know about the both of you in case anything happens to him so you'll both be safe and taken care of. It's a morbid thought and he'd likely never say it out loud, but he likes to prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

They want a sibling? They want him to give them a sibling? Well, he's conflicted about that one. On one hand, the idea of having a kid with you is fun, and he certainly doesn't mind trying even if it's not physically possible, but on the other hand: he really doesn't know if he can have kids. Not just because of the steroid abuse, but because of all the mental hang-ups he has about being an unwanted child. Would it be wrong of him to bring a life into this world? Would he be a good parent? What if they're sick, or his father does something to them because they're not strong enough? He's got all sorts of fears and concerns, but given time he'll come to you about them so you can both talk about it.

It takes a hot minute to figure out what dinosaur to nickname Jack, but eventually, given a lot of thought (and maybe a Jurassic World binge) they settle on Giganotosaurus. Because like Jack, this dinosaur is big and has a horrific bite, both powerful and fast, even if they aren't the strongest, much like Jack. Though Jack doesn't really know how to feel about being nicknamed after a dinosaur in particular, he does appreciate their knowledge and the effort they put into finding the right one to call him, even if he's not really one for nicknames. If they try hard enough, they can even get Baki on board with it. Jack will suffer the entire time, but he doesn't actually mind.

Kosho:

Awkward as all hell. He doesn't mind kids, he's just not good with them. Like, at all. He doesn't know what to do to entertain them, he doesn't know how to bond with them, he doesn't even know what they like doing other than being weirdly sticky all the time. He doesn't understand how or why, but it's a thing that they do. That being said, this kid is absolutely infatuated with him. No explanation, no reasoning, they just decide instantly that they want to be near him very often, and you're going to have to literally pry them away from him. It's like when cats find the one person in the room that don't like them and proceed to stick to them like glue. Doe she understand? No. Is he trying? Desperately trying, yes. Is it getting him anywhere? Nah. Do they still love him? Absolutely, take joy in his misery while it lasts, because he will eventually get used to it.

Kosho is pretty damn loyal. He cares for his people, and he likes to show that in his own weird way. He's like a cat, where he doesn't want to be given affection unless he's the one to initiate. At some point in time, he'll just walk past the kid while they're doing regular things to just pat them on the top of the head and then promptly walk away like he didn't do anything. If they try to hug him or lean into him, he'll act like they've burnt him, but he's not against the affection, he's just not used to kids trying to get closer to him and show him that they love him.

They never have to suffer through long and dragging on doctors appointments ever again. Given a little bit of time, both of the brothers will get used to them and be absolutely in love. Kureha is 100% willing to offer up fake doctors notes if it means he can get out of dancing around the awkward conversation between him and some macho man that refuses to admit that he's got a bright pink vibe up his butt and can't get it out. Speaking of, this kid is about to be traumatized by both Kureha and Kosho telling them horrifying stories about messed up stuff, but they're going to have fun while it's happening so I guess it's a win?

Does Kosho want to introduce this kid to the other fighters? Oddly enough, yes. He wants to brag about his new little buddy and flex that he's got the new fun cool person to hang around with. There's no hesitation, no second thoughts, he just shows up one day like "HEY FUCKERS LOOK WHAT I FOUND!! THEY ARE STRANGE AND STICKY BUT I STILL LOVE THEM!" Only for your child to just be sitting there shitting bricks because oh my god look at the size of that guy- Hey is that a caveman?? They eventually just sorta accept that Kosho is just going to show up at some points in time, and he may or may not be accompanied by a small borderline feral child, and that they may or may not have to endure (happily so) their shenanigans (talking about dinosaurs and about how cool they think all the fighters are).

Sibling? Yeah, nah, sorry kiddo. He's not too interested in having his own kids, and he's a bit worried about having another kid only for them to wind up going through a "I HATE MY OLDER SIBLING!!" phase that he went through with Kureha, not realizing that he is the exception and not the norm. It'll take a long time for him to realize that as well, but seeing the two of you interact if you're siblings does help him slowly start to figure it out. He might warm up to the idea down the line, but he's initially very against the idea and will outright deny ever wanting kids. He might never change his mind, because one might just be enough for him.

They 100% call him therizinosaurus. He cuts stuff with his nails, the connection gets made almost immediately. Does he enjoy being called a dinosaur? Not really, no. Does he appreciate the effort that was put into finding the right one that suits him? Absolutely, so they can call him a therizinosaurus all they want, he won't stop them. He never really gets the point of it, but he does appreciate their knowledge and will actively encourage their interests with random cool dinosaur things that he happens to find, be it while he's out on some adventure training or if he's getting groceries. Eventually he starts learning about dinosaur stuff against his will and just accepts that this is his life now.

Kureha:

He's not awkward per se, but he isn't super fond of kids, especially not loud energetic ones. He might warm up to them eventually if they are more energetic, but only be assured it's because they matter so much to you. He'll never admit that he was nervous before meeting them though, there's no way he'll ever tell you that he feared a young child holding the potential to ruin his relationship simply because they didn't like him. He played really nice with them for the first few months, and then he started being himself a bit more. They either get along just fine or they constantly butt heads about some things, either way, it's a playfully bitchy relationship where they give each-other a hard time to show that they care about each-other.

They will never have to worry about long wait times to get checked out for anything. Runny nose? Kureha's got it. Sore knee? He's got that too. Kureha is fully willing to spoil the living daylights out of this kid and he makes that very clear. They want dinosaur stuff? They get an exclusive tour of the paleontology wing of a museum and they get to raid the gift-shop for souvenirs after. Not feeling well? They've got doctors notes on demand. Lord help whoever manages to upset them, because Shinogi can and will give them the worst health scare of their lives. You've got a cough? Well, we took a chest x-ray and we found some weird spots so we'd better check for something more serious!

Kureha hangs around Jack often enough that eventually you'll just wind up adopting him into the family as some sort of uncle. If the kid struggled with bullies before, then the second Jack goes to pick them up from school that is over. They now have the cool massive scary uncle and the cunty scary father figure who just so happens to be a doctor. They literally can't do anything because if Kureha complains to their parents it's all over for them, especially since he's so well respected in the medical field. Otherwise, a quick call to Jack for a quick favor can really get things moving in the right direction.

Would he bring them around the arena? Not likely. He'll introduce them to Tokugawa, his brother and Jack, but the others aren't likely to meet them unless they happen to run into you all in public or at the hospital when you're visiting Kureha. Them coming around the arena wouldn't be likely until they're much older, like in their late teens or early twenties simply because he doesn't want to have to patch them up because they gain an interest in fighting. ESPECIALLY if Pickle is around. Jack, Katsumi and Retsu weren't the hardest to patch up, but it's not something he wants to do for someone that he's supposed to help raise.

They can ask him for a sibling all they want, his answer isn't likely to change from a firm no. Now if you want a kid, that's a different answer entirely, and it's more of a conversation he's willing to have because you're both adults and that's the healthy thing to do, but a kid asking him to bring another kid into the world? That's an automatic no. He doesn't even really want kids of his own simply because of how his family is (thank you Iya for the lovely lovely Shinogi brothers HCs I love you pookie) but he's open to at least talking about it and thinking about it for longer than five seconds. That being said, if he does agree for whatever reason, then he's going to be an absolute bitch about it, even if he was the one to initiate obtaining said child.

He expects to be nicknamed after some glorious majestic dinosaur, and then the kid hits him with the Synosauropteryx and he just needs to sit down for a few minutes when he finally looks the lil guy up only to realize that the only reason they chose that one in particular was because he's got red hair. It's a devastating realization for him, but please wait to bring out the chihuahua comparison, because he'll go from devastated to murderous in about half a second and you will NOT be able to outrun him. Pointing out that he's then proving you right will simply make him even angrier, and you will 100% wind up duct-taped to the ceiling, your kid will help him.

Retsu:

This man is a MOTHER. He is a MOTHER! He knows how to handle kids and he does so very well! How and where did he learn how to do all of this? No idea! He didn't help raise other kids, as a matter of fact, he was pretty much an only child the entire time he was growing up, but he does remember how he was raised. Despite him being a mother, don't be overly shocked if you come home one day and he's taught them how to kick a hole in the wall (that was not intentional and he doesn't know how to make them stop please help he is scared) and then there are also the random skills that they also learn from him passively. There's no fear, they almost instantly both click with each-other, the vibes are immaculate, it's like finding peace for the first time.

Retsu is nothing if not loyal to his loved ones. They want something? They've got it, and if he can't get it for them, then he knows someone that can get it for them in almost no time at all. Having his connections, stuff like that is child's play. They want an archeologist at their birthday party to tell them about their most interesting dig? Why not go to the actual dig site and help out? He can get that organized, he promises, just give him a few weeks to get all the ducks in a row, and he'll make this the best damn birthday party they've ever seen. How is he going to top it next year? Don't know, but he will. You just gotta trust the process!

He might take them back to the temple he was born and raised in to go meet some of the other Chinese Kempo practitioners he grew up with, though he doesn't really want to take them to meet Kaiou Kaku and his family, simply because he'd rather not put them in the potential path to be judged and treated poorly, as the old man can be pretty prejudiced, though he doesn't really have much to worry about because Kaiou Kaku is a father, grandfather and great grandfather, so he's used to kids not sharing his interests and is actually decently chill about that. It's a large family that, upon learning that Retsu has taken in this child, will do anything to protect them.

He'd be torn between bringing them to the arena or just keeping them introduced to a few people that he's close to, like Tokugawa and the Orochi family, though he might eventually just bring them with him because they pester him enough. He's decently protective and might be weary of Jack and Baki getting close to them simply because of Yujiro being... Well, Yujiro, but eventually he does give in and they wind up rough-housing with one of the brothers or Katsumi while he does something else, like fighting so they don't have to see him whooping ass. Though he does wind up absolutely thrilled that the others would care for his adopted child this much and he'll tell you as much with a big emotional smile and a tear in his eyes. You'll have to comfort him a little, he's easily made emotional.

A SIBLING?!? MY WORD!! Why are they asking HIM this question?! (He's stunned and shocked and oh my word he is appalled and doesn't at all realize that this means they see him as a parent and obviously parents are the ones who have kids right?) He's not really sure how to react other than a flustered and desperate request for your help please god he doesn't know what he's doing please help him. Once he calms down and thinks for a second though, he gets it, really he does. He's open to the idea as long as you're both stable enough in your lives to bring another one into the family. He's going to be just as good of a parental figure to this one, he promises, and honestly, he's one of the few people you can trust when he says that.

He doesn't mind being nicknamed after a dinosaur, he's actually highly flattered because of it and is incredibly proud when he gets to witness their knowledge firsthand! All of those late nights staying up with them to figure out what the coolest dinosaurs are were definitely worth it, because the one time he asks what dinosaur they think he is he gets hit with "Oh! You're definitely a Tarbosaurs!" A ruthless and efficient predator, thought to be a dedicated parent? That sums him up perfectly! He's got no problem calling them his little tarbosaurus either, even going as far as to learn as much as he can so he can occasionally drop interesting facts onto your childs head and watch them light up in excitement and delight.

Doppo:

He's done this before, he's willing to do it again. Younger kids are a bit of a challenge because he adopted Katsumi at a bit older, but he doesn't mind, he adapts quick. That and he's got a bunch of eager students that either know someone or are someone that works with kids and can do whatever he needs them to when it comes to child care. If he's busy for whatever reason, he knows that either Katsumi or one of the hired babysitters have them covered, especially if it's a date night. Katsumi's a bit old to be expecting a new sibling, but that won't stop Doppo. Truth be told, he did enjoy fatherhood and having someone looking up to him with that child-like wonder and amazement, so the first time he meets them he wants to immediately hit them with a wow-factor. And the fun part is that it works! Enjoy peace and quiet for the next six hours, because Doppo's got this covered! Go take a nap or get your nails done, you'll find them tuckered out and ready for a nap of their own when you get back.

Devoted and loyal aren't nearly enough to describe Doppo. You need him on the PTA? He's there, and he's getting things done! His name carries weight, and he uses that to his full advantage if he needs to. He did it for Katsumi, and he knows for a fact that the teachers and parents still at that school remember how he ruled the PTA with an iron fist, though he was always hidden in the background. They want to go to a museum with dinosaurs? He's organizing a field trip for the entire grade, and of course he's there as a chaperone to supervise and get some quality dad time in, just like he did with Katsumi when he was at the age where he didn't realize that that's what Doppo was doing.

He definitely is not letting Yujiro get wind of this one. That's the last thing he needs. This child is peaceful, interested in things like dinosaurs and learning, The Ogre would eat them alive, and there's no way he would ever let that happen. Baki is safe, Jack is a maybe, but Yujiro? Definitely a no. Absolutely not. If he sees him while out in public he's distancing himself from you and the kid just to be sure that you don't look associated with him in the slightest. He's not playing games, you and your kid will be safe no matter what, and if it means having you be whisked away by someone he knows to go back home and wait out Yujiro being... Well, his awful self, then that's simply going to be a factor. He'll let you know about that upfront though, so you know what you're getting into.

Oh he does bring them around the arena when he knows Yujiro isn't in the country. He's reluctant around Jack, but Shibukawa, Retsu and Tokugawa? They all meet his new kid, and they all weep because oh my god, they're so cute, and so clever!!! Tokugawa hopes that they'll become a fighting prodigy, much like Katsumi, but it only takes him about a month to accept that they don't really have an interest in that. They will learn Karate, because of course, Doppo wants to bond with them in his own little way and make sure they know how to defend themselves, so eventually someone will say that dinosaurs are boring and Doppo will bring them home crying laughing because someone said dinosaurs were stupid and they karate chopped them in the leg because they're wrong dinosaurs are cool don't be a dummy. Bonus points if it's some big showy fighter was trying to act hard and cool that immediately shut down once he got slapped.

A sibling? They already have a sibling! Katsumi is right there! They want a younger one? Well hell, Doppo's already in his fifties! It's a bit late to think about having another one, but yet again, if you ask real nicely he might consider it. In all seriousness though, he doubts that they'll need another sibling, they, as well as Katsumi, are more than enough for him, but if you say you want to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, he doesn't mind helping you achieve that goal. ;)

Oh he doesn't mind getting nicknamed after a dinosaur! As a matter of fact, he's entirely pleased by it. Especially when they decide that the perfect nickname for him was triceratops. Big, strong and intimidating. If he was a more insecure man, he'd be worried that he was scaring his new kid, but no, he knows that they feel safe around him. They wouldn't give him a nickname if they didn't! He wears his nickname as a badge of honor, and proudly brags about being seen as strong by his children. Katsumi might give him a hard time about it, but he's just jealous that Doppo got a cool nickname first.

#baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #grappler baki #baki dou #baki rahen #baki headcanons #baki hanma #hanayama kaoru #chiharu shiba #katsumi orochi #jack hanma #kosho shinogi #kureha shinogi #retsu kaioh #doppo orochi #natsue orochi #shibukawa gouki

[uluvjay]

Glory days- S. Vettel

Sebastian Vettel x wife! Reader

In which you ask your husband to fuck you like he did in your glory days

Warnings?; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex(plz use protection!), oral(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), dirty talk, ass slapping, degrading, cursing, porn with a small plot, prob many errors & bad grammar 

Part of my 1k celly:)

You blamed the internet for being the reason you were seeking out your husband. The damn tik tok you scrolled upon showing your husband being drowned in champagne by two of his closest friends and then him showing his tongue with his index finger up to the world.

You loved the way Sebastian treated you in the bedroom, there was no doubt about that.

But the video had you missing the RedBull days where he was more wild and would have you pinned against a wall with tears streaming down your face as he spat things at you in German, how he’d tease you for so long you were sobbing and begging for him, the quickies in his drivers room while the entirety of the RedBull team were looking for him.

Finally finding him sat at his desk in the office you snuck up behind him, running your hands down his chest to signal your presence.

“Hi meine Liebe” he smiled taking your hand in his, bringing it to his lips.

“Hi” you greeted back.

Turning around in his chair the man smiled up at you before pulling you onto his lap.

“The girls go down easy?”

“By the second story they were both snoring” he laughed at the thought of his sweet twins fast asleep.

“I’m glad, they love having you put them to bed” you beamed snuggling deep into his chest.

“And I love doing it”

You two sat like that for a minute , his large hand running along your back while he replied to emails he’d been putting off.

“Hey Seb?” Your soft voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Yes darling?”

“Remember the night you won your third championship?” You smirked at the sound of the him taking a sharp breath.

“Of course I do, what about it?” He coughed slightly shifting underneath you.

“Remember how drenched we were in champagne? How you poured it down my chest before licking it up? How you made me come three times in three different ways?”

A cry tore from your throat when his hand slotted in your hair and pulled you from his neck.

“What are you trying to do here Schatz?” He grunted

“I just…We haven’t gone at it like that in a long time, and don’t get me wrong I still love the way you fuck me but I kinda miss us being messy and rough” you spoke looking up at him with his favorite doe eyes.

A growl, an actual growl broke from the mans throat before he smashed his lips against yours, the kiss was hot and sloppy, something familiar but yet forgotten.

His free hand reaching down to grip your hip, pulling you so close you could feel his chest moving in and out against your own.

“Seb” you panted pulling away from his lips.

“What?”

“I need you, please. I need you to fuck me so hard that I don’t remember my own name-like you used to.” You begged the blonde.

Without anymore pleading he slipped his hands under your thighs before standing and making his way down the hall.

“Seb you passed the bedroom” you spoke with confusion.

“I know”

Confusion clouded your mind for a moment until you realized he was opening the door to one of your guest rooms.

“Further from the girls, don’t wanna risk your pathetic noises waking them” he spat, his hands hastily pulling your leggings down.

Slotting himself between your thighs he began trailing soft kisses against the insides of your thighs, lips brushing right past your wet cotton panties.

“Seb, please” you begged.

“Hush Kleiner Hase” he smirked at the yearning whimper that broke from your throat at the name.

His torturing kisses continued along your skin, nipping and sucking along the skin coaxing whines and whimpers from you.

“Sebastian baby-please, I need you” you begged, hands running through his soft and overgrown curls.

“Your the one that asked for this baby, wanted me to take care of like I used to.” He tutted and as much as you wanted to argue he was right.

Sebastian hardly made you wait anymore, usually due to the fact that kids made it hard for you two to take your time.

Finally running his fingers over the elastic of your panties Sebastian hooked a finger in the material and pulled them down your legs.

“So wet for me” breathed, mouth watering at the sight of your dripping folds.

“Oh god seb please” you whined.

Your body was aching for him at this point, wanting nothing more than his body pressed against yours while he fucked you silly and made you come over and over again.

A groan left your husbands throat as he left kisses along your folds, his tongue teasingly running through them. Your body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth finally coming into contact with your cunt.

Your fingers gather his hair in a vice grip, pulling on the locks so hard it had Sebastian whimpering.

“Feels so good Seb” you heaved, body shivering as he ate you like a starved man.

His tongue ran along your folds, moving in multiple different patterns while his nose bumped and prodded against your clit.

Sebastian’s hands pinned your hips down as you attempted to grind against his face, a sharp slap against your skin letting you know to knock it off.

Your thighs shook as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten by the seconds, your moans getting louder and your tugs on Sebastian’s hair getting harder.

“M’ gonna-fuck, gonna cum seb” you cried out.

“Go on pretty girl, cum for me. Want you to cum all over my face.” He encouraged as he slipped two fingers inside you to help guide you to your high.

You arched your back, breath quivering as you came, thighs closing around Sebastian’s head drawing the man even closer to your cunt then before.

Broken sobs escaped your throat as you came down from your high, Sebastian left wet kisses along the skin of your lower stomach while his fingers continued to work you open.

“So pretty Schatz” he cooed in your ear before your body was flipped over and you were placed on your knees with your face shoved into the comforter.

You could feel him shuffling before the warm head of his cock was placed against your folds, teasingly running through the cum and spit covered skin.

Sebastian shuddered as he slipped inside, his hands gripping your hips so hard you knew there’d be bruises in their place tomorrow.

“My fucking god..” he growled at the way your walls hugged him.

He could hear your muffled cries as he kept up a brutal pace, the sounds of skin slapping mixing in with your shared moans filled the room.

Your breath hitched with every thrust, you could feel every ridge and vain as he split you open. His deeps grunts and growls making you clench even tighter around him.

“Ah-fuck. Seb it feels so good” you whimpered as he placed a foot onto the soft mattress to allow him a deeper angle over your body.

“Yeah? Like when I fuck you like a little slut?” He spat, leaning his body over your back to whisper in your ear.

The man got nothing but muffled cries in return as your body squirmed underneath his, your toes curling in pleasure as he fucked you deep.

“Clenching me so tight” he panted into your neck.

Your breath hitched at every thrust, the heat in your lower stomach getting hotter and hotter by the second.

“Se-oh!-m’ gonna cum” you stuttered.

He smirked at the way your body shook due to his movements, how you cried as his hand came down hard against your plump ass.

“Go on Meine Liebe, come all over my cock like a good whore” he taunted as his thrusts picked up and soon his hand was placed on the back of your head; shoving your face into the mattress.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, body trembling, and toes curling as your climax washed over you. Your entire body shook as Sebastian kept going, his thrusts unforgiving as he chased a high of his own.

Grunts filled the room as Sebastian felt the familiar shiver run down his spine and he came deep inside you, your cunt milking him dry.

He smirked at the sight of your fucked out face when he turned your body over, tear tracks covered your red cheeks as you panted for air.

“So pretty Liebling” he shushed as he ran his thumb along your warm cheek.

“Tha-that was amazing” you laughed as you pulled his body down to press against yours.

“Yeah?” He smirked as he placed kisses along your neck.

“Mhm”

“I’m glad because I’m far from being done with you”

-

#sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel x you #formula 1 #f1 smut #f1 imagine #red bull f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 #jays1kcelly

[garfunklefield]

What about a Gojo prince x a princess reader and its love at first sight? Then maybe they have some breeding-kink related sex, and perhaps they say I love you?

Whimper Like a Prince!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!princess!reader/prince!Satoru Gojo Warnings: perverted gojo, heavy breeding kink, arranged marriage, creampie, p in v sex, pussy eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, L bomb, gojo will whimper trust, love at first sight, porn with plot or should I say plot with porn :), bathroom masturbation, gojo cums in his pants Word count: 4591 DESC:You and your new husband procreate

Back at it again with the subby gojo

Satoru never thought of himself as a pervert. In fact, he considered himself basically asexual, from how no one had ever interested him. No woman or man ever caught his attention, not even a little bit. There had to be something wrong with him, his parents thought so. They deliberated for days before going to their son and telling him about you. You were supposed to be different. You were supposed to be the perfect woman to marry into the Gojo clan. And you were the one they had signed him off to be married to. 

“Seriously? Not even in a say in my own wedding?” The Prince groaned, throwing his head back and letting white locks flow across his forehead. It was a pain to have to share a room with someone. Become married. All of it. It was a pain! He didn’t want to know anyone, he didn’t want to know you. He couldn't care less if it offended his parents or hurt your feelings; He didn’t want to do it. 

His life was fine! He could do whatever he wanted without a woman bossing him around. This would ruin it. This would make everything all wrong. Satoru said nothing else as his parents continued to lecture about how this would be good for him, a change of pace. How you were calm and reserved and perfect. All that bullshit he was tired of hearing. He didn’t care how perfect or beautiful you were, he didn’t want you. So he declined to see your photos and got up, strolling out of the common room and into one of the hallways. 

What's worse is they didn’t tell him that when he woke up the next morning and got dressed in the white suit they had laid out for him, Satoru was going to be wed. It was a pure white suit, white coat, and white undershirt, paired with white shoes and pants. It was a bit weird, making him look paler than he actually was. He looked like a demon, staring at his own blue eyes in his reflection. Who was that man? Who was the beast before him who was watching with a hungry gaze? A beast who longed to be forever alone. Satoru wasn’t scared of intimacy but he sure as hell didn’t like it. Maybe he avoided it as much as possible, that wasn’t wrong, was it? He didn’t need to be intimate with anyone as long as he had a say in it. So safe to say, he was a virgin. Unless you count fooling around with his best friend, which he didn’t. 

One maid knocked on his door and spoke quietly, saying his parents requested to meet him in the outdoor corridor. Gojo nodded and silently rolled his eyes, praying it wasn’t for scheduling the wedding. What he didn’t know was he was walking into his own wedding. He didn’t pay attention to the loud fanfare outside, it was probably just one of his parent's parties he was being forced to make an appearance at. Whatever, it wasn’t like it affected him in any way to say hi to a few guests. Then he could retreat into his room and hide underneath a blanket until the world disappeared. 

“Toru, honey, in here!” His mother, the queen, called out from a column that lined the huge archway, leading outside. He perked up at the sound of his mother's voice and followed it closely. Although it was hard to hear from all the music and noise, he managed to find her. She was in a long white gown, which didn’t catch him off guard, it was the scene behind her. A wedding. His wedding. Half of the seats were people wearing white, signaling his side of the family. Then the other half wore red, signaling yours. It made sense, his kingdom's colors were blue and white to symbolize a Gojo’s typical eye and hair color. 

His mouth twitched on the edge and slowly hung open, gaping at the scene, “Mom… are you fucking with me right now?” Satoru turned to look at her, with his eyes widening in a newfound rage. He was getting married now!? Now!!! In front of all these people! Oh but the mysterious and perfect you was nowhere to be seen. 

“Now, now… don’t give me that. It’s for the better,” she smiled reassuringly and attempted to put a hand on her son's shoulder blade, to calm him. Instead, he shrugged out of her grasp with a grumble and straightened his suit jacket. There had to be a way to get out of this. There had to be a way to get out of all of this. 

“Introducing!!!” A loud man shouted from a balcony overtop Satoru and his mother, “The crowned prince, Satoru Gojo, and the Queen!” A large spotlight flickered over to the both of them, stopping him in his tracks as he attempted to leave. He stared into the light like a deer caught in headlights unsure what to do. He was fucked. He was totally and utterly fucked. 

He felt his mother nudge his side, with a tense and tight grin upon her frail lips, “You have five seconds to stand straight before I slap you Satoru,” she spoke between her smile. Her son did as he was told and straightened his posture, turning on the perfect mask of a prince who wanted to get married. His eyes turned kind and his smile flashed wide. He looked like the perfect prince about to be wed to some nobody. 

His mother grabbed his hand and pulled him down the aisle, smiling and waving to everyone as she did so. Satoru refused to truly make eye contact with anyone, he didn’t want to exist. He wanted to pretend this was all some fucked up dream he was going to awaken from at any moment. Just getting pinched and sent back into bed was all he wanted. The Queen let go of his hand and signaled him to go on further, standing on the pedestal designated for the two truly participating in this wedding. He didn’t look as the loud man cleared his throat and introduced you by your name, he didn’t care to learn it. But something took over Satoru, maybe it was curiosity or just pure boredom, but he looked over at you. 

And his … his heart stopped. 

You were purely and utterly perfect in every shape of the word. Your face was adorned with jewels and makeup from your homeland, all red. Your hair was the same fiery red, and put up into an intricate style. But he wasn’t looking at that. Your face, your beautiful face. It was unique and something he’d never seen before. Features, that were all different from those of him and his family. Fuck … he liked it a lot. The way your lips jutted out in a regular stance, painted with a deep crimson. Then his eyes trailed down to your chest. 

Satoru never thought of himself as a pervert … until he met you. Your breasts were thick and filled with fat, hanging perfectly against your body. They perked up against your dress in a way that couldn’t have been natural, maybe by a bra of some kind that he couldn’t see. Your dress collar went low, exposing the skin between your breasts. There was something about him he wanted to squeeze and palm until you couldn’t take it. He wanted to rip apart your dress and taste your sweet nipples, feeling you grow wet under his touch. This sudden lust was becoming too much and it didn’t help he took in the rest of your figure. Your stomach lightly jutted out against your tight dress, followed by thick love handles and hips. He caught himself salivating just at the thought of pressing you against the wall and becoming suffocated by the plush, soft skin of your thighs. 

He turned away from staring at you and instead began to worry about the problem brewing in his pants. A very apparent and very erect problem. He was straining against his tight boxers and even tighter slacks, desperately aching for release. He wanted to rip apart his pants and touch himself while watching you stare at him indifferently. He loved it, fuck, he loved you. Was that possible? Was he just so overcome with lust it was blurring the lines of love? Well, he had never felt love before, so maybe it was the same as lust!

You approached him, with an older man on your left. He let go of your hand and let you step onto the pedestal yourself, coming face to face with your future husband. He couldn’t even feign disinterest or boredom, being this close to you was agony. Satoru’s body was purely on fire and he needed you to put it out with your touch. He stared at you, waiting for something to happen. The officiant began to speak her speech, but he heard nothing. All he could do was stare into your wide eyes as you stared into his. Did you feel the same thing as him? Were your souls becoming intertwined with every passing second, or was it just him?

“...Do you take Satoru Gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The officiant asked you, turning your attention away from your future husband. You looked at her, then at Satoru.

Biting your bottom lip, you nodded, “I do.” Your voice. Your fucking voice. He was going to cum in his pants. Your voice was angelic, pure gold sliding into his senses. It was beautiful, you were beautiful! Everything about you was absolutely beautiful.  

“Satoru Gojo do-” The officiant began but she was cut off by Satoru’s abrupt, “I do.” 

Your eyes widened at the sight. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but he didn’t care about that. He wanted to touch you so bad it was starting to hurt him and his cock. He was throbbing and aching for release, aching for you to release him from these chains. All you had to do was just touch his hand or his arm, and he’d find peace. 

“By the power vested in me by the kingdom, I pronounce you two man and wife. You may now kiss the bride,” she cleared her throat, stepping back and motioning to the newlywed couple. Satoru’s heart jumped from his chest to his throat. Kissing? They were going to kiss? Oh no. That was bad. That was going to be very bad. 

He stared at the officiant to you, pressing his lips in a thin line. Well… she did say kiss. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Satoru quickly began to convince himself he’d be fine, which was a mistake. He stepped forward and put two hands against your cheeks, inhaling to take in your warmth. You were the living embodiment of perfection, the soul of beauty, and the goddess of his life. Who cares if you just met two minutes ago?! Love at first sight can exist! Without saying anything else, he gave you a look which you nodded to, signaling you were ready for the kiss. 

Then your two souls became one and your lips pressed together. Annddd he came in his pants. Satoru didn’t mean for it to happen but the pleasure of being so close to you, smelling your scent, and feeling your body warmth. It felt so good, he let himself slip and found himself cumming into his pants from the sensation. Your lips were so soft and glossed up, molding against his in a very G-rated kiss. Although, he wished for more. He wanted to taste your tongue so badly. You pulled away first, staring at him. His face was red with flushed bits of pink scattering his hazy cheeks. His lips were delicately traced with gloss, and his eyes were fogged over. Small panting breaths came out of him as you both looked at each other.

“Did you…” You mumbled, nodding your head in the direction of his pants. 

“...Nu-uh…” Satoru whispered back, pulling back completely and clearing his throat, “BRB for normal reasons now,” he flashed his mother a winning smile and then promptly walked off the podium. It didn’t really matter, as the families had begun to mingle. So no one noticed him slipping out and wandering back to one of the many guest bathrooms in the palace. You watched him walk away with a different look in your eye that he didn’t have time to dissect. 

Satoru had one goal in the bathroom: clean his underwear and not take too long. He dropped his pants and stared at himself in the mirror, he looked like a complete mess. Nothing had ever made him cum like that. Sure he never felt attraction to people but he was a guy! Morning wood is a real issue. He let out a sigh and assessed the damage, pulling off his pants and underwear to begin to properly clean it. But something else took over him as he pulled out a roll of toilet paper. He could just fuck himself to the thought of you in here and no one would know. He could touch himself and think about how you felt against his touch, your plump skin, and your warm lips. 

A hand trailed from the toilet paper down to his growing and twitching cock. It was aching to be touched. His palm covered the tip and then sank, snaking around the shaft. With a small and gentle motion, he began to rub himself off. His hand didn’t feel as good as he knew yours would. Something about your small hands against his cock, taking him and feeling him in the ways he liked. Then your pretty mouth, gagging on his dick. He could practically feel your lips sucking his tip, and your tongue trailing around his urethra hole. It was too much for him and he had just begun to jack off, quickly cumming into his hand. It was a quick wave of pleasure that ran up his length and shot out his tip, into his hand. Satoru let out a shaky moan and kept stroking himself, cumming against the pleasure. 

Fuck he needed you so bad. 

Satoru had no idea you’d be waiting in his room after he got out of the bathroom. His underwear was completely past saving and he needed to change into something less cum filled. When he saw you seated on his bed, two arms crossed against your breasts he gasped. Two brows raised in confusion furrowed a bit, “Wh… Why are you in here?” 

“Did you cum in your pants?” You raised an eyebrow at him, watching him with your same blank stare. He blinked a few times. Oh! So you did notice more than he thought! 

He let out a small laugh and closed the door behind him, locking it subtly as he did so, “Whaaat? Why’d you say that?” 

“I heard you moan when we kissed. You got all … flustered,” you explained, motioning with your hands. As you moved, your breasts bounced against your skin, exposing them to Satoru’s perverted gaze. He was half paying attention and mainly salivating. He wanted to rub his swollen cock on your nipple and feel it harden, then fuck your tits until he came all over them. Then he wanted to grab them until you couldn’t bear it from sensitivity. 

“Why are you in here?” He asked, a low tone taking hold of his voice. You both were married now. It wouldn’t hurt to get more acquainted, would it? And it wouldn’t hurt to be more bold now, would it? Satoru began to approach you, kicking off his shoes and pulling at his white tie, his eyes on you like a predator on his innocent prey. 

“I… wanted to ask if you were okay,” your eyes met his and you bit your bottom lip. Fuck… just like that. He wanted you to bite your lip as he went down on you and fucked your tight cunt with his tongue. He wanted you to cross your eyes as he pumped you full of his kids, of the next generation. God, just the thought began to make him hard all over again. 

“Then why’re you on my bed?” He tilted his head, shrugging off his suit jacket and letting it hit the ground. You swallowed and moved both hands from your sides to rest behind you, stretching yourself back a bit. All for him, huh? He didn’t know you were a little tease. 

“Satoru,” you began but your breath caught in your throat when he was too close. He stood between your slightly spread legs, using his own knee to spread yours a bit more. The tension was so thick he could practically cut it with a knife. He needed you so bad, to run his hands along your fat skin and taste the wetness leaking from your cunt. He knew you were wet, you had to be. There was no way you’d be in this position and not be even the littlest bit aroused. He was aroused, it was obvious from the boner in his pants. 

He breathed out your name and sunk onto his knees, “If you don’t stop me in five seconds, I’m continuing,” one hand ran up your thigh, up your stomach and grabbed hold of your panties, “One,” he pulled at the hem of your underwear, “Two,” he pulled it down your thighs with one hand, “Three” it was down to your ankles, “Four” your dress was pushed up past your hips, “Five,” his mouth was face to face with your soaked pussy. You were gorgeous, perfect flaps waiting to be spread open by his mouth. 

“Sa..” You went to begin but his mouth was on your spot. You weren’t going to stop him anyway. Two fists balled up against the sheets and you felt him press a hand on your stomach, signaling you should lay down. Your legs found themselves thrown up against his shoulders, so he could be even closer to your wetness. Two hands suctioned against your hips and he did his magic. For someone who had never eaten pussy he was surprisingly good at it, lapping at you like you were the best meal he’s ever had. You tasted like savory heaven, something he’d never want to give up. His tongue rolled around your cunt for a few moments before he latched onto your sweet cunt, sucking like he never had before. He felt you tense up, rolling your hips to the sensation, and he knew he had found the perfect spot to please you. 

“Pl.. f-f-fuck… pleas- hah.. Mmm… please,” you whimpered, gasping and arching your back to the sensation. He wanted you to cum just had he had several times before. Satoru pulled his face back from your pussy, his chin glistening with your wetness, and pulled one hand from your hip. He needed to make you cum any way he could, and he’d heard that fingering made women feel pretty good. With ease, he sunk digit after digit inside of you, filling you up with three fingers. You felt so warm and plush, sticky, and … fuck warm. 

“What a whore, huh? You take all my fingers…” Gojo mumbled, leaning forward and pressing his mouth on your clit. He pushed his fingers in then out, and in then out, in a rhythmic dance to stimulate your senses. He felt your spongey walls clench around him when he hit your perfect spot and kept going, making sure to abuse it as best he could. His mouth helped too, licking your juices up as if there was no tomorrow, in his mind there wouldn’t be. He had to make the best of here and now as if he’d never get this chance again. 

He could tell you were close when your noises got louder, and your voice reached a higher octave. You moaned and groaned his name, begging to release all over his face. And when you did, you did something a bit unexpected. You squirted. Your body tensed and you rolled your hips a few times, going silent before a loud moan escaped your lips. Satoru didn’t stop and didn’t stop when he felt you cum all over him. It sprayed over his face, just getting a bit of his chin and neck but he didn’t care. Fuck, he thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen! 

Satoru pulled back and grinned, “I’m gonna fuck you until I can’t cum anymore, kay?” He didn’t wait for an answer, bringing you up further on the bed by your arms then promptly pouncing on you. You gasped when his mouth assaulted yours in a sloppy R-rated kiss. His tongue lapped yours and tased your saliva, moaning for more. It felt so good, building a burning sensation deep in his stomach. He needed to get off, and he needed to get off now. You heard him moan and whine into the kiss as he did exactly what he wanted to and touched your full breasts. He squeezed and palmed the skin just to hear you moan and whimper that it was too sensitive. That’s what made him strain more against his pants. 

He sat up and took off his pants, well attempted to. Satoru struggled against his belt, to the point where you had to sit up and help him. You cleared your throat and pulled off the belt, beginning to unbutton his pants, “So… did you also learn about the marriage yesterday?”

The white-haired male let out a lust-filled laugh and nodded, “Didn’t know it was happening today, though.” Once his pants were unbuttoned he shimmied out of them and his boxers, kicking them to the side and getting right back on top of you, “Mm…” he moaned against your mouth as he brought you back into a kiss, “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re swelling with my kid,” you moaned into the kiss when he said that, joining him in filling the room with your joint noises. 

Satoru pulled back and looked down at his cock. He was throbbing and leaked precum onto the sheets, in between your spread legs. It didn’t take him long before he grabbed the base of his cock and stroked it a few times, “You wanna be bred?” He asked, his voice almost hoarse as he spoke. 

“Mhm,” you cried out, whining like a little sub bitch. You reached out to grab his hand, “Just fuck me already…” You didn’t have to tell him twice. He continued to slowly stroke his cock as he lined it up with your folds, pressing the tip into your cunt just to see your reaction. You were so warm he had to stop himself from cumming right away, but he stayed strong and pushed in. Fuck, a whimper escaped his mouth and he leaned down to kiss you again. The kiss was desperate and messy, just aching to relieve the burning desires swelling in his body. It was electric how he felt about you in that moment, he needed you so bad it hurt. He didn’t just want to fuck you, he wanted to live in your ribcage like a little parasite.

He pulled back, then thrust in again, “F-hah.. Shit.. mm-m fu..fuck,” he threw his head back at the pleasure rising up his cock. He’d never get this kind of sensation from just simply fucking himself. Sure, fucking himself to the thought of you felt good, but this was on a whole other level of pleasure. You were warm like a sauna and he wanted to just thrust in you until you couldn’t walk, until you were full of his cum. So he began, thrusting in you like you were nothing more than a sex object. You gasped and pressed yourself against the mattress, before arching your back and rolling your hips as you did when he reached your pleasurable spot. You both were so sensitive, Satoru more so from the fact he had already cum twice, that he came within seconds of penetrating you. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop when you cried out and came for the second time, or if he was feeling too stimulated, he wanted you full. He wanted to watch you bulge from his cum and carry his kids. 

“F-fuck… I’m gonna.. Mm- fill you.. Hah.. with my- mm.. Kids,” he groaned, looking down at your perfect form. Satoru buried his head in the crook of your neck and bit down as the pleasure was getting to be too much. It was all-consuming, filling his whole body and all of his senses. He could feel his body jerking and spontaneously moving with every jolt of ecstasy. You were the same, crying out and wrapping your arms around his neck. He was balls deep in your wetness, taking in your noises and the plapping from both of your bodies together in pure bliss. He felt himself spill over again into your pussy, cumming to the point where it was beginning to hurt. But he didn’t want to stop, even though his dick was starting to become numb. It almost tickled at first when he kept thrusting through the sensitivity, but then it started feeling good again. So good he couldn’t help but bite even harder on your neck. You were talking it like the good slut you were, soaking up his cum and begging mindlessly for more.

Satoru gasped and kept thrusting, even though he was beginning to realize you might’ve milked him dry. He let out a whimper and pulled his head back to look at your dazed expression. Your makeup was smeared, mascara pooling at your eyes and lipstick against your cheek. He didn’t care, you were still gorgeous. 

So he was surprised when he felt himself cum again and he blurted out, “I ..f- mmshit.. F-.. love… you.. Iloveyouiloveyou.” 

His dick was so tender he was beginning to lose feeling in every motion, so his thrusts began to slow to a stop. He pulled himself off of your sweet cunt and plopped down beside you, taking in gasps of air as if he was going to die at any minute. Now he knew why men were addicted to sex. Sex was amazing! Marriage was amazing! How could he have dismissed it so early on without even giving it a try? If this was how sex and marriage truly were, he would’ve done this such a long time ago! 

“You… love me?” You murmured, turning your head to look at your husband. Gojo looked back at you with wide eyes full of … well tiredness and confusion. He was so out of it that he didn’t even process he had said it until you pointed it out. A few silent moments passed as he tried to think of what to do. Well shit, now he might not have that amazing explosive sex anymore. 

“I love you too… I think. It’s weird, I felt like I did when I first saw you,” you continued, turning on your side to watch him with delicate eyes. You … also loved him? If he wasn’t sore and numb in his dick at the same time he would’ve fucked you again. 

Satoru let out a breathless laugh and outstretched one of his arms to rest on your waist, “Yeah, me too.”

#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #satorugojo #gojo jjk #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #x reader smut #smut #garfunklefield writing

[cherigu]

— ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Personal Jeweler!

Genre: smut, established relationship Pairing: dom!jeongguk x sub!reader Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: degradation, fingering, finger-sucking, orgasm restriction, unprotected penetrative sex, crying (from pleasure ofc), possessiveness, slight overstimulation, aftercare

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The sound of the water from the bathroom connected to you and your boyfriend’s shared room abruptly stopped, finally letting you properly hear the K-drama that was currently playing on the TV. Your boyfriend had decided to treat you to a date earlier and took you to the luxurious Italian restaurant you’d been talking about for weeks. The both of you had come home pretty tired, Jeongguk deciding to take a quick shower after you finished using the bathroom to do your nightly skincare. 

You were laid in bed, occupying yourself with a TV show while you waited for Jeongguk to join you in bed after a long night. The drama had long lost you with its twisted and confusing plot, leaving you with nothing to do but wait for your boyfriend to finish washing up. Your head perked up at the sound of the door opening, signaling that Jeongguk had at last come out. A quick glance was all it took for every ounce of drowsiness in your body to be replaced with excitement, making your core hot with arousal and unusually empty as you scanned your boyfriend’s body. 

His long, wet hair dripped down his body while the rest stuck to his forehead. His bare face looked so kissable, making you resist the urge to run up and kiss him all over. The rolling water droplets led you to his toned, tan body which was on full display. The dampness gave his pecs and abs a nice sheen, highlighting all of the right places. The towel didn’t do much at covering him up, hanging low enough to expose his sharp V-line. You were practically drooling at the sight, wishing nothing more than for the towel to drop to the floor.

“My eyes are up here, princess” He raspily chuckled, secretly enjoying how you were eye-fucking him not that long ago. He began to walk closer to you while using a spare towel to dry up his hair. “Look a little too good for my liking” You muttered, taking the chance to wrap your arms around his waist and press your cheek against his abdomen while he ran his fingers through your hair. His sweet musky scent was going to drive you insane, making you need him impossibly closer.

You lifted your head to give him your best puppy eyes, something you did whenever you wanted a kiss. He smirked and leaned down to face level, giving you quick pecks before finally locking his lips with your own. He lazily kissed you, feeling like there was all the time in the world while he slowly devoured you. The hand tangled in your hair slowly moved down to your neck, giving it a light squeeze and sighing in approval at your reaction. The sound that came out of you was between a moan and a hum, hands inevitably traveling to the towel on his lower body before he pulled away. 

“Gukkie.. How am I supposed to sleep now?” You whined and threw your head back in annoyance at the devilish smirk now plastered on his face. 

“Don’t know, figure it out though ‘cause I’m tired as fuck.” He lied, only for the sole purpose of wanting to rile you up and hear you beg. You eyed him as he walked over to his side of the bed, taking out some boxers from the bottom drawer on his nightstand. You felt as if he were doing this on purpose, no way was he going to choose today of all days to sleep practically naked. Somehow his usual sleep attire had gone from sweats and a t-shirt to only boxers. At this you huffed. Being your boyfriend’s spoiled princess meant you got what you want, whenever you wanted. Tonight, however, seemed to be different.

The left side of the mattress dipped before the bedroom suddenly grew dark as Jeongguk had now turned off both the TV and lamp. “Goodnight baby, I love you” He turned to you while throwing the sheets over his body.

“Not fair..” You pouted, sitting up and crossing your arms. Jeongguk’s lips broke into a smile, finding you adorable but not quite yet wanting to give you what you wanted. He propped himself on one arm to reach your face and peck your lips, “Night, princess” 

“Ugh..” you groaned, watching him fall flat on his back and close his eyes. You were hot and needy, and it didn’t help that you had already been holding yourself back all day. He had decided to wear a fitted suit to the date, all black with the top buttons of his dress shirt undone. If you had no respect for the people dining, you would’ve taken him right then and there. 

You weren’t the only one who’d been holding back tonight. You had decided to match with Jeongguk by wearing a black silk dress, slit high enough to expose your beautiful long legs and low back cut to show your dimples of venus. The sight made him want to fuck you at least until the only word you knew was his name.

Jeongguk had been able to successfully hide his raging boner from you at the dinner, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t have made it home before having a quickie in the car had you seen it. He wanted to make you feel good without dealing with the limited space of his car’s backseat, needing the bed to bend you in all positions possible. But first, he wanted to make you wait like he had all night. 

You got the idea of straddling him, giving him one more chance before you decided to rest even if that meant you’d go to sleep frustrated. “Baby..” you climbed onto his lap, kissing his face like you had wanted earlier. His lips twitched, very obviously fighting back a smile. This didn’t go unnoticed, motivating you to trail lower in hopes of him breaking. Your lips caressed his neck, occasionally pressing down in order to find his sweet spot. 

Not only were your actions making it harder for Jeongguk to hold himself back, but his own body began to betray him as he felt his cock grow hard enough to connect with your core through the thin sheets. Your wet mouth on his neck and heat on his length made his head spin, the need to make you wait suddenly evaporating.

You were taken by surprise when Jeongguk flipped you onto your back without a warning, manhandling you from his lap in order to hover over you. Your lips parted with a gasp, shocked at Jeongguk’s sudden actions yet excited that your idea had worked. 

“So fucking impatient, hm?” He groaned, slapping the side of your thigh with his tattooed hand. “Strip.” He ordered, watching you waste no time peeling off your clothes. He took a moment to drink in your body, the body he would never miss a chance to bury himself deep in. Frail neck he had marked with purple bruises endless times, perky tits he’d fuck after a long day, feeling your tongue repeatedly kitten-lick his tip, the waist that was molded perfectly for his hands to wrap around, everything about you was perfect to him. 

“Tsk, such a needy slut. ‘S why you wore that dress tonight hm? Wanted me to fill up your tight cunt?” The second slap sounded louder, echoing throughout to room because of his hand’s contact with your now bare skin, but even then you couldn’t hold back your smirk.

He looked so hot above you. The arm he was using to prop himself up with was flexed, tempting you to mark him up everywhere, making sure anyone who stared would know he belonged to someone. His long locks hung above you, hooded eyes peeking through his bangs to hungrily stare at your lips. A detail you’d almost missed was the chain that hung from his neck. It was a simple, thin, gold chain with a small round pendant that had a “J” carved on it. 

“And what if I did, you wore this chain ‘cause you knew it would hang in my face tonight huh?” You hooked a finger on the jewelry, using it to pull his face down close enough to seal your lips together in a heated kiss, letting him lap at your mouth like there was no tomorrow. His hand caressed your thigh, slowly feeling him inch lower which made your breath grow unsteady. Despite your lack of oxygen, you still found yourself whining when he pulled away.

“Do you like it?” He breathed out, to which you nodded in response. He pushed himself up to stand on his knees, bringing his hands to the back of his neck to unclasp the chain. “Lift up your head, baby” Still laying down, you separated your head from the pillow as you watched him secure the necklace around you.

“Fuck” Blood rushed to his cock, looking down at his initial snug between your bare tits would send him into a frenzy. Leaning back down, he caught your lips in a kiss again. “Do you even know what you do to me?” He mumbled against your lips, hand resuming its previous actions. The heat pooled in your stomach had been released as arousal, making your pussy all wet and sticky. 

He dragged his middle finger through your folds with ease, never having to use lube when you were with him. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip making your brain grow foggy at how well he worked you up. A second finger came down to your sopping cunt to slowly spread your juices. The moans Jeongguk had to swallow for you were an indicator that you were enjoying this. “So wet just for me..” He mumbled.

“Mhmm inside..” your hips jerked up, impatient for the fingers circling around your nub to enter your clenching hole. At this, he retracted his hands only to earn him a string of whiny no’s. “So greedy but can’t even use her manners.” He taunted, brushing the hair out of your face. “Please.., baby, need you- ahh” You buried your face into the pillow next to you at the feel of his thick, long fingers pushing inside of you unexpectedly. The stretch of his two fingers entering you caused a slight ache, but still nothing in comparison to his rather girthy cock. 

He began to languidly circle his fingers inside of you, wanting to prolong the pleasure before pumping inside of you. “Such a whore for my fingers, huh?” He chuckled, experimenting with a hard thrust of his digits. A long moan erupted from your mouth, forming an O-shape as he continued to pump slowly yet deeply. He knew his way around your body, having explored it one too many times. Even then, you will never grow accustomed to the pleasure that comes from his fingertips feathering around your g-spot. 

All he had to do was curl his fingers into the spongy tissue to have you moaning incoherently under him. “Feel so.. F-fuck ‘m gonna cum, please” Your thighs began to squeeze around Jeongguk’s hand while your orgasm rapidly approached. “Be a good girl and hold in for me, yea?” He pulled his fingers out, bringing them to your mouth, “Open.”

You did as told and he shoved them in, cutting your voice short and stopping you from protesting before you even got a chance to. Tears coated your eyes as you gagged around his fingers, feeling him press down on your tongue while he used his free hand to rip off his boxers. His hard cock sprung out, making you whine in anticipation to be filled up. He pulled his fingers back with a pop, your mouth having sucked them clean. His hand trailed down to his hard-on, slapping the tip on your wet cunt shortly before rubbing it between your folds and groaning in the process. 

Having stretched you out enough, he sharply thrust into you, “Ugh, just like tha-at, more” Your hands reached his back and sharply clawed down, imprints of your nails adorning his smooth skin as a reminder of tonight. “So dirty for me, love the way I fuck you open? Is that it?” He spoke between thrusts. “Fuck me so good… A-always so good” The sounds of his balls hitting your skin and squelching of your pussy along with Jeongguk’s huge cock had you fucked stupid.

“Yea? Fuck you so good ‘cause you’re mine” He shoved himself inside of you hard enough to prove a point. The constant impact had your tits bouncing, making the pendant of his necklace move with them. The sight of this alone had Jeongguk’s hips moving erratically against you, feeling your plush walls contract deliciously around his length. You took him so well, proving you were made just for him. 

“Such a good pussy. All. Mine. Right?” He moaned in between pumps, eager to hear your whiny voice tell him what you were. “All y-yours, Jeongguk, always!” You cried out, needing nothing more than Jeongguk’s permission to reach your high. 

Jeongguk was close, only needing your affirming words to shoot his thick load inside of you. “That’s right, only I can fuck you like this, make you squirm like this, you’re all for me baby” He wiped the line of drool that dripped down your cheek with his thumb. “Fuck, can't hold it!” Tears were dripping down your cheeks at this point, leaving a salty taste on your tongue as they rolled down into your mouth.

“Go ahead, pretty girl deserves to cum” He kept his attention on your tits with his chain, the view combined with your clenching walls made his hips stutter. The knot in your stomach had finally erupted, making you able to hear the blood rushing through your veins as bliss washed over you. Your vision had been long turned blurry due to the tears, ears choosing to block all sounds aside from Jeongguk’s deep moans. Your essence was now dripping down his thighs as he shot his own into you, continuing to rock his hips against yours to bury his seed deep inside. He pressed himself flush against your hot skin and held you. 

It wasn’t until your legs began to shake that he pulled out, hearing your weak voice whisper “too much” under him.

“You okay, hun?” He asked, beginning to stand up to give you space after the overstimulation only to be pulled back down. “Stay, ‘m okay” you confirmed. “I’d love to, but I gotta clean us up and get you some water.” You whined but nevertheless loosened your grip in comprehension. “Be quick” 

Safe to say he had cuddled you all night after that, soothingly combing your hair as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear until you slept. He soon found himself dozing off with the happiest smile at the sight of the J so beautifully hung around your neck. 

“It’s yours as long as you’re mine, y/n”

A/N: not to proud of this one but fuck it we ball

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you

[idksmtms]

The Only Way... (District Mentor!Aemond Targaryen x Tribute!reader)

(first Aemond pic was found on tumblr and edited by @kyloremus)

AN: Huge shoutout to @valeskafics for inspiring my HoTD x Hunger Games stories. Without her, I would never even have thought to connect the two. Highly HIGHLY recommend her writing! - Also, yes, I did pick a random HoTD name for the male tribute, sue me - 

Summary: There were only two past winners from your district, and one of them didn’t even bother with his mentor duties anymore. But this year, for one last time, Aemond decides to attempt to mentor one of the tributes, not expecting how it would change his life. 

Word count: 6.5k

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, slight age gap (I made the reader a couple years younger than him for story purposes), vague p in v s*x, oral f receiving, mentions of blood, discussions of death, discussions of trauma, discussions of disfigurement, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Aemond Targaryen was reaped for the Hunger Games in his first year of eligibility. At 12 years old he had been shipped into the arena, and he had won. Though he had lost an eye in the process, he deemed it a worthy sacrifice for getting out alive. He had been responsible for half the cannons that sounded in the arena, had gotten his revenge for the eye taken from him, and had emerged the victor. He strongly believed the world was against him at every turn, (how else does one explain getting reaped and losing an eye?) but he knew that he was strong enough to fight back against fate. 

The first couple of years after his victory, he had attempted to mentor tributes alongside his own mentor, Rhaenys Velaryon. But each one had met their own gruesome end in the arena and eventually he had given up on his duties altogether, much preferring to stay in his home at the victor’s village with his family. 

It’s not that he wasn’t a good mentor, he truly believed he taught them a decent amount in the short time he had with them, and that allowed them to live longer than they would have without him, but they all lacked his ruthlessness. He had a certain cold-hearted quality that allowed him to kill without batting an eye in the arena, and he could happily admit to it. Every single victor had either gone in with that quality already bred in their veins or they had built it in the arena. He wasn’t sure which side he fell on, but he knew he possessed it. After two or three years of watching kids he had gotten to know, most older than him, die at the hands of others who had been just like him, he had gotten tired and decided to step away. He knew Rhaenys could handle it, she had been doing it much longer than him anyway. 

But this year, something felt different. Maybe it was the long speech his mother had given him about doing his duty, regardless of his own feelings. Maybe it was the thought that it was the last year of eligibility for his brother Daeron and he wanted to be there to ensure that if he was reaped he would at least have a mentor he knew. Whatever it was, he decided he would attempt mentoring one last time and do his utmost to make his tribute a victor. 

A part of him was worried to start showing his face in public again. Though he was used to his eyepatch and he didn’t shy away from venturing out of the house if need be, this would put him directly in the limelight once more after many years. Everyone in Panem knew he wore an eyepatch, everyone in Panem had seen the initial wound he had been dealt, but he had kept away from the scene for so long that he felt self-conscious about his appearance. People would stare, people would be horrified, and- and he would just have to deal with it anyway. 

On reaping day he put on his best suit, a beautiful two-piece made of fabrics of black and dark green and ventured into the square with his mother on his right arm and his sister on his left. He didn’t say a word to either as they entered the space and he left them to go stand near the back of the stage. Old memories of his own reaping day were flooding back in. The nervous energy that had thrummed through him, the sudden stillness of his body when they had called his name, his mother screaming and sobbing, pleading for it to be anybody else. Aemond closed his eyes and swallowed, ignoring the sudden pain that throbbed where his eye should be. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked across to where Rhaenys stood on the other side of the stage. 

She was staring out at the gathering crowd with a blank face. Her hair was neatly braided at the top then flowed down her back in a white similar to his own. They were relatives, somehow, he could never quite remember the relation. He could see the signs of age on her face now, the wrinkles around her mouth had multiplied since she had last been here with him. Her dress was a deep blue, matching her eyes, and covered her arms until her wrists. He knew she bore scars on those arms from her own fight in the arena, but he felt a bitter pang of jealousy at how easily she was able to hide them. He would never have that luxury. 

Aemond waited as the bustling died down and everyone was gathered in the square. He could see the lines of peacekeepers all over, their guns shining in the watery sunlight. He could see his brother standing among the men, a shock of white hair in a sea of brunettes and blondes. He wanted to smile at Daeron, to try and reassure him somehow that everything would be alright, but that was a lie and he would never be able to promise him that. Instead he looked away and began searching for his mother’s and sister’s faces as the anthem played and the formalities ensued. They were harder to find, but eventually he spotted his mother standing next to a girl in an emerald green dress. It was you. 

Aemond was shocked for a moment to see that colour in the crowd. Everyone else was dressed in varying shades of grey, with the odd yellow popping out from somewhere in the crowd. Even his mother was more unique than most by wearing a completely black outfit, but you stood out like a flare. The dress was made of some satiny material and shined in the light. It was a relatively modest dress, with a collared neckline and short sleeves, the hem falling below the knee, but it was so… green. 

Aemond stared at you, at your pretty hair and apprehensive eyes, posture straight but so tense he was sure your muscles must hurt. This must have been your last year of eligibility as well, he thought, you looked to be about Daeron’s age. Your name was populating that bowl, just as Daeron’s was, and he could understand the dread. You were so close to freedom, but if fate decided to be against you today, there was nothing you could do but face it. 

“Alright! It’s now time to pick one young man and woman for the honour of representing this district in the next annual hunger games! Our courageous young man will be…” the brightly dressed capitol man reached his hand into the bowl and began mixing it around. Aemond silently prayed to the seven that he would accept anything, even his name being pulled again, as long as it wasn’t Daeron. He didn’t want to see the pain on his mother’s face if her youngest child was reaped. He didn’t think he could stand idly by if they picked Daeron. “Jasper Wylde! Come on up!” There was a moment of commotion as people looked around to try and find the unfortunate boy and eventually he stepped warily out onto the path made for the tributes. The capitol attendant clapped happily but no one joined in, watching with morose faces as he walked up to the stage and stood beside the bowl full of male names. 

First Aemond breathed a sigh of relief. He truly did feel like smiling this time because Daeron was free. His family was finally free. They could live in their house in the victor’s village on his salary and die peacefully, a luxury. Then a wave of solemnity washed over him once more and he bowed his head slightly. He knew what it felt like to be reaped, he knew with what hatred that boy now stared at the bowl full of names, wondering why it was him and not the thousands of other names piled in there. No one should celebrate at this moment, a child was still being sent to his death. 

“And now, last but not least, the ladies…” the representative hopped across the stage and shoved his hand into the other bowl. He swirled it around a few more times than he did for the boys, then picked a piece of paper right from the bottom. He slowly peeled it open and you could hear the way the paper stuck together slightly in the silence. “Y/n L/n!” Murmurs again filled the crowd but Aemond knew exactly who it was. You were the only one that didn’t move. People began turning and looking but you stood still. His mother gently rested a hand on your shoulder, whispering something in your ear. You turned to look at Alicent then tipped your head down in a swift nod. Then, back straight and head held high, you stepped through the crowd and onto the path. 

You were a sight to behold. A girl in green striding down the path. A bright spot of paint on a white background. Aemond hadn’t realised his breath was held in his chest. Somewhere in the distance he could hear weeping, but you didn’t turn back. You stared at the stage and kept walking until you stood beside the capitol representative. It was only when you had gotten near that Aemond realised he could see your lip wobbling, that your hands shook like trees in a storm and tears made silent, shiny, tracks down your cheeks. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, here are our district’s tributes! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour…” 

In the time the tributes were given to say their goodbyes to their families, Aemond took the opportunity to make his own farewells. He had already said goodbye to his father and Aegon who had stayed behind at the house during the reaping ceremony. His father was too ill to leave the house and it was Aegon’s turn to stay behind in case peacekeepers came asking for the health declaration. Though Aemond knew this wouldn’t happen as they were all here, and it gave Aegon a good excuse to laze around the house. 

Helaena, Daeron, and his mother had been sad to see him go, though they took comfort in the knowledge that if no one else, at least he would return. Helaena shed a tear as she hugged him, making him promise to eat well and stay strong. Daeron’s goodbye was quicker, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t want Aemond to see him upset or because he wanted to go celebrate his newfound freedom. He hugged Aemond quickly then dragged Helaena off to home, chattering to her about something or other. 

Aemond watched his siblings walk away then turned to his mother who watched him with sombre eyes. She was silent for a moment, then reached out and gently folded his hands between hers. She looked down at them then back up at him with a sniff and he wondered if she was about to start crying. 

“Take care of her, Aemond,” she finally said, voice quiet but firm. “Until the end, you must take care of her.” Alicent looked him in the eyes until he nodded before squeezing his hands lightly. She pulled him into a hug and gently rubbed his back. “She needs you, Aemond, and if anyone can help her, it will be you. Leave that boy to Rhaenys, hm? She can handle him, and he will do what he will regardless. But Y/n has potential to win. People may not see it, but I believe, and only you can get her there.” Alicent let him go and stepped back, blowing a kiss to her son and beginning to walk away. 

“Wait, mother-” 

“Time to go,” the capitol representative came up beside him and clasped his shoulder but Aemond was quick to shove him off. He couldn’t threaten a capitol citizen, but gosh was he close. 

Aemond still had so many questions for his mother but he was being herded toward the train and she had disappeared among the buildings. He let out a sigh of dejection and allowed himself to be brought onto the train, sitting down in the lavish room and pressing his head into his hands. The eyepatch was digging into his skin and he just wanted to rip it off and itch at his scars. But he couldn’t, because he didn’t want to look at what was underneath, and he didn’t want anyone else to walk in while his face was completely bare. So he pulled the leather away just slightly and scratched at the edges then let it snap back into place. He stared at the floor as he tried to sort out the pieces in his head and come up with a plan. He always had to have a plan. That’s how he survived his first games, and that’s how he would survive his last. 

The doors to the compartment opened and Rhaenys walked in, her dress swishing around her ankles. He stood to greet her and she smiled, a small dejected thing that was as pathetic as he felt. She walked over to the bar and poured herself a glass of sweet alcohol. He remembered the taste from his first train ride, sickly sweet to the point of pain then fiery as it slipped down your throat. One taste had been enough for his whole life. 

“I see you’ve returned to your duties,” Rhaenys said, voice full of mirth as she sipped from her glass. Aemond nodded, watching as she sat down on a plush velvet chair. He followed suit, sitting opposite her across an ornate glass coffee table. 

“Yes, one last time,” Aemond replied simply, turning away from her to stare out the window as the train began to move. “I have a request, concerning the tributes.” 

“Oh?” Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, lips pulling up into a smirk as she brought the glass to her lips to drain the rest of her drink. “Do tell.” 

“I will solely mentor Y/n, and you can take charge of the boy,” Aemond said, lacing his fingers together in his lap. 

“Why?” Rhaenys furrowed her brows and put the glass down on the coffee table. 

“It will be easier on everyone, focus all your energy on one tribute and do what you can to get them to win.,” he shrugged, as if the answer had been there all along. 

“Yes I know that, but why do you want to mentor her?” Rhaenys asked, and he went quiet, staring at her as he tried to think of his answer. All his mind conjured was the image of you walking to the stage, the green dress and the tear tracks. 

“I’m sure you see the potential in the boy. He has muscle, he has experience from the mines which means he already has the brute strength that can be honed with skill, but I see potential in her. I’d like to see what I can do with it.” He stared directly into Rhaenys’ eyes and sat up straight. 

Aemond believed what he said. If his mother saw potential in you, then so did he. He would do what he could to get you ready for the games, then he would do whatever he could to help you survive in the arena. The world was always against him, but if there was one thing he knew, it was how to survive. Now, he would make sure you did too. 

“Alright, have it your way,” Rhaenys shrugged, and this time Aemond allowed himself to smile. 

Aemond and Rhaenys walked through three train compartments before they found the tributes. You were sitting at the right wall on a purple velvet sofa, legs curled up under you, staring out of the window. Jasper was busying himself at the bar and the air was heavy with silence. Both of you refused to acknowledge the other, and Aemond cleared his throat to draw your eyes to him. You merely raised your eyes to them while Jasper made to rush around the bar as if they had caught him doing something he shouldn’t. 

“Oh don’t stop on our account, it’s only right you drink what you will before you die,” Rhaenys smiled genially, and Jasper had enough sense to look sheepish. “Alright, you come with me, I’ll be your mentor,” she pointed to Jasper then motioned for him to follow her before walking back out of the room. Jasper hesitated, looking around as if he was unsure what the protocol was, but Aemond just motioned his head to where Rhaenys had disappeared and Jasper jogged after her. 

The room was quiet again. You had returned to staring out of the window, and Aemond slowly made his way over to the sofa you were sitting on. He left a seat between you and sat down, only turned slightly toward you. You finally tore your eyes away from the landscape and looked at him and he could see how red and puffy they were. Red veins crawled over the whites of your eyes and your nose was shiny and a pang of something painful hit his chest. 

“Did you get to say goodbye?” He asked quietly, lacing his hands together in his lap. You nodded, gulping and opening your mouth once, twice, before a croaking voice spoke. 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat before speaking again, “I only have my parents so… it was a quick goodbye.” Your lower lip began trembling and your whole face crumpled as you began to sob once more. 

Aemond had seen tributes cry before, it was normal, but not this much. By the time they got on the train they usually gathered themselves up and began trying to concoct a plan. But you, you seemed to be completely lost to despair. Your face was the picture of pain, and you brought your knees up to your chest and rocked yourself slightly. His mouth turned down in pity. 

“My mother bought me this dress,” you finally said through the tears, voice slightly blubbery and high-pitched as you began breathing in to calm yourself. You looked up to meet his eyes and he could barely make out your irises through your crinkled lids and the heaps of water pouring over your lashes. “She wanted to get me something special for my last year in the reaping and she spent a whole salary on the fabric. She toiled night after night, coming home from work to painstakingly stitch every piece together.” You gently caressed the fabric and smiled through the tears and somehow this sight was so much worse than the frown. Aemond’s chest clenched so tight he thought his heart might stop beating altogether. You let out a huff of a chuckle, a watery sound that was quickly followed by a sniffle as you pressed your hands to the fabric before looking up at him and directly into his eyes. Your own were open now, wide as they could go, serious as they could be. 

“I know I can’t win. You know I can’t win. Everyone who watched the reaping knows I can’t win. I’m a girl who’s only skill is dressing pretty. So, Aemond Targaryen, tell me what to do?” You looked at him in earnest, as if he held all the answers, and for a moment Aemond began to question what his mother saw in you. What was this potential she spoke of? All he saw was a weak little girl who couldn’t even be bothered to believe in herself. But then he remembered your walk up to the stage, the strength with which you had held yourself even while you had cried. Now he understood what his mother wanted him to do.  

“You think you can’t win.” He turned to fully face you and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “There’s more to the games than just surviving the arena. You’re good at looking pretty? Then you’ll survive the parade, you’ll excel at the interview, you’ll get sponsors and I’ll be able to help you for longer in the games with that. Not everything is about brute force and murderous intent. You’ll have some time to train before going into the arena, we can use it to teach you a few things. Don’t think about winning, just try surviving,” he watched you as he spoke, noting the way you seemed to breathe easier and your eyes seemed to lighten slightly. Your hands stopped trembling and you uncurled from around your knees, instead spreading your toes out over the plush fabric. 

“Ok,” you breathed out, “I can try,” you affirmed, nodding to yourself, and he allowed you a small smile before becoming sombre again. 

“I won’t lie to you, you will have to do things in the arena that will haunt you if you manage to make it out. The games are designed to turn you into an animal. Even if you go in there without the intention of killing, no one comes out unscathed. So, the real question isn’t about if people believe you can win. Are you willing to do what it takes?” 

Aemond had thought about all the people he had killed for a long time. He remembered every detail about them, from district and family history to what they had looked like the moment life had finally drained from their eyes. He often thought about his final victim, the only person he had gotten along with before they had entered the arena. He thought of the way she had grabbed his wrist and forced the knife into her own stomach, the way she had smiled as she fell to the floor, the eternal smile as the cannon sounded and her blood warmed his hand. The realisation that he was alone in the arena. 

When he saw the smile on your face as you wiped at your tears and brought your feet off the couch, nodding your head and repeating the word yes until you seemed to believe yourself, he thought of the final girl. 

When you reached the capitol, you were separated and attendants led you off to… somewhere. You were stripped bare and forced into a roiling bath filled with all sorts of serums and scents and oils. Your scalp was scrubbed until you could feel each individual hair follicle growing and your skin was pink. They cut and polished your fingernails and toenails and waxed you all over until your skin burned. You were moved onto your stylist who greeted you with kisses on your cheeks before whirling you around to scrutinise your body. He had a gentle smile, and conversed with you all the while you stood on a pedestal in the middle of his room. He told you about the dress he had made for you, all the jewellery available to you and how you had the next few hours to prepare yourself for the parade. 

You allowed yourself to revel in this one luxury. You loved to dress up, to wear fancy clothes and beautify yourself whenever you could. The opportunities had been few and far between back home, despite your parents doing their best to provide you with them. Even if you were going to die in a few weeks time, at least you could enjoy the luxuries offered until then. 

Ursa brought out a garment bag and one of his attendants rolled in three carts covered in jewellery one by one. Ursa hung the bag up right in front of you and zipped it open, to reveal the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. “I watched the reaping and just knew what I would make,” he whispered as both of you stared at it. You brought your hand to your mouth and stepped forward to touch the fabric. 

The dress was dark green, like leaves in the deepest, darkest, part of a forest. A sweetheart neckline with off the shoulder straps that led into long swaths of tulle that would flow behind your arms. Rhinestones were sewn into the fabric almost at random to look like sunlight falling onto the fabric. It had a long train that you knew would drag behind you on the ground and force the carriage behind you to keep at a distance. You realised how he wanted to single you out. The organisers would keep everything symmetrical, so the long gap behind you would mean there was a long gap ahead of you too. Spectators would be drawn to the sight of you two taking up so much space. You would be the centre of attention. 

Ursa helped you into the dress and set the sleeves for you as you gazed at yourself in the mirror. It truly was made for you, each measurement perfect. All the effort Ursa had put into this… you began to tear up but he just hushed you and began fussing over the jewellery carts. He suggested putting a tiara on you but you were hesitant. It felt presumptuous to already wear a crown at the tribute parade. 

“Darling,” he held your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced you to look into his eyes. “Act like you’ve already won. Nothing else will make it easier, and nothing else will grab their attention more.” He slid the comb of the tiara into your hair and forced you to hold your head up high. 

In the next few hours, you were draped with necklaces and bracelets and rings. Just before you were helped up onto the carriage, Aemond appeared at your side. You looked up at him and for a moment he didn’t say a word. He just stared at you, at the dress and the crown and the whole picture of finery. You couldn’t read what was in his eyes and you looked down nervously, trying not to shuffle back out of embarrassment. 

“You look like a winner,” he finally said. 

When training started, your confidence began to wane. You watched all the other tributes heft axes, shoot arrows, slice swords or destroy dummies with their bare hands. You watched other tributes practice building traps or gain strength in their legs for running. It felt like you were the only one starting from rock bottom. You wanted to yell at Aemond, to say “look! Look at my glaring lack of ability! Whatever belief you had in me must be dead!” But everyday he came back, dressed in black athletic wear ready to teach you something new. 

He didn’t bother with any weapon bigger than a dagger, telling you it would only weigh you down. He made you run until you were sick for the first half of every day, then run some more. The second half was spent learning how to use the simplest of supplies to make traps or alarms. He would use rope or wire with a handful of leaves he had gathered from outside the facility. He taught you about plants and water sources and made you list every possible terrain and the best possible strategy to handle it before you could leave for the day. 

Despite the intense rigour with which he attacked your training, he was endlessly patient. He listened to every complaint before forcing you back onto the treadmill. He rubbed ointment on your fingertips after you cut them on the wire but made you rebuild the trap. He made sure you ate a full meal but quizzed you about everything he taught you while you sat together. And on the nights when you missed home, when the world felt like it was ending and your mind could only play the sight of your mother’s face crumpled with tears, the sound of your father crying, he held you and whispered stories of history long past into your ears until you slept. 

He had so quickly become everything to you. At times you thought about how only a little while ago he had been nothing but an image on a screen, a name whispered around town, and now he was your comfort, your nourishment, your whole life, your very soul. You tried to imagine doing this without him, and you simply couldn’t. You knew you would have given up a long time ago if he had not been there to carry you through. 

As the time to enter the arena crept closer and closer, the training got harder and harder. It was on a particularly difficult day that you returned from the facility and began rummaging in your closet for your reaping day dress. You hugged it as you slept sometimes, imagining that you could still smell the faint scent of your mother’s perfume on it. But it wasn’t there. You threw out every scrap of cloth that the capitol had provided for you, opened every drawer and pawed through every nook and cranny like a desperate mouse searching for food. It was nowhere to be found. 

Aemond heard all the noise coming from your room and decided to venture in to figure out what was wrong. He found you sitting on the floor in a pile of underwear and training gear, hair still wet from the shower and tears streaming down your face. You were sobbing quietly, shoulders hunched forward and body bobbing slightly with every hiccuped breath. Your hands were clenched in the clothes you were surrounded by and he could see the chaos that had occurred. Aemond knelt down beside you and gently unclasped one of your hands from the clothes. 

“What’s happened?” He asked quietly, softly touching each one of your fingertips where they were still red from working with the metal wire. 

“My dress is gone,” you whispered hoarsely, looking up at him with big teary eyes. You looked like a child then, the way Daeron had when he used to fall down outside the house and cry until mother soothed his cuts and bruises. Aemond reached up and collected a tear with his thumb. 

“They must have taken it for a wash, I’ll call down and find it,” he soothed, wiping the tear on his pants before repeating the gesture on your other cheek. 

You continued to stare up into his eyes, and he let go of your hand to cup your cheek. He moved closer until his nose gently touched yours. You closed your eyes and waited, feeling his breaths brush over your lips. You waited and waited but he still didn’t kiss you. You opened your eyes again and he was staring at your face with such pain, such sadness that it crushed something in your chest. 

Aemond had never felt such guilt for loving someone. He had happily loved his family and happily loved the one girl who had kissed him while they were still in school (though that had ended quickly). But here, with you, he felt the crushing weight of helplessness as he looked upon your face. He loved you, yet he could do nothing to get you out of this. He loved you, yet all he could give you were a few days, a few kisses, mere moments before everything was thrown into the air. 

You leaned forward and slid your hands into Aemond’s hair. You pressed your lips to his mouth and gently kissed him then pulled away. You did it once more, staying just longer than a peck then pulling back. Then he was kissing you, pressing his tongue into your mouth and leaning over you so your neck tilted back. The tip of his nose pressed into your cheek and he kissed your lips like they should be cherished. 

You pulled away and caressed his cheek, smiling then gently bumping his nose with yours. He smiled back, huffing out a sad little chuckle. You pressed your nose and mouth to his cheek and kissed him before mumbling against his skin. 

“Thank you, for everything.” 

It was your final night. Tomorrow you would be tossed in the arena and expected to survive for the entertainment of the capitol citizens. While you had done well with the parade, and people had immensely enjoyed your interview, you had scored appallingly low on your assessment. Aemond told you not to worry, that it was a good thing for people to underestimate you, they wouldn’t worry about killing you first because they believed you would end up dying on your own. You at least had cover for now. 

You had eaten in silence, all four of you gathered for your last supper. Jasper had talked and talked, asking last-minute advice and making commentary about the other tributes, but you felt like any energy you might have had before had been completely zapped away. You drank three glasses of water, then walked to your room without a glance back, sitting in your bed to wait for Aemond to come to you. 

It was as you began to doze off that he stepped into your room, the lights dimmed and casting shadows over his face. He walked over and sat in front of you on the bed, reaching over and gently caressing your head for a moment. You didn’t speak for the first few moments, what could you really say? Aemond cleared his throat. 

“Don’t run for the cornucopia, just run for cove-” 

“No advice please,” you interrupted, “not tonight. Tell me everything you can tomorrow morning, speak to me even as I’m being lifted away, but not tonight.” He nodded and shifted closer to you, watching as you reached out to hold his hands. “Will you show me?” You finally asked, and his heart stopped in his chest. 

He knew what you were asking for, but somehow this still terrified him. It was… grotesque, horrifying, and a million other gruesome words. What would you say after seeing it? Aemond gulped and turned away from you to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“When he slashed my eye, that was the most pain I had ever felt in my eye,” he began, voice rough. “Rhaenys sent me bandages and I was able to keep it wrapped up until the end of the games, but after I was lifted out, they took me straight to the hospital. I was delirious, but I remember the medics said there were a million things that could have gone wrong. I was lucky it wasn’t infected, and I was lucky they could perform surgery quickly.” Aemond closed his eye as he spoke but his fists were clenched on his knees. “When I finally woke up, blind in one eye, they brought me a mirror to show me their work. They said they were so proud, that not only had I been given the best care but they had made me seem truly capitol. You know what they did to my eye?” He snapped in your direction and you jumped. He stared at you with his one blue eye, unforgiving as steel. “They shoved a huge chunk of sapphire into the empty socket. There’s no eye in there, no cavity, not even scarred over skin. Every time I take off this eyepatch, the evidence of the games stares back at me. The thought that I have been forever changed by the capitol, disfigured by them in the name of beauty…” his chest was heaving and he had gone deathly pale. You reached over but he swiftly grabbed your hand, grip tight. He stared at your face, at the look of earnest care and pure love in your eyes, and slowly peeled away his fingers. 

You didn’t make a sound as you gripped the strap of his eyepatch and lifted it over his head. You didn’t say a word as you looked upon the rough cut sapphire that sat where his eye should have been. All you did was lean over and kiss him, smiling against his lips and kissing him again. He pushed you onto your back and kissed you until you were breathless. He kissed over your neck, and after removing your nightgown, he kissed down your chest and over your stomach. He pulled down your pants and kissed you between your thighs until you could only call out his name. He kissed your thighs, your stomach, your breasts, and back up to your lips. He pressed into you for the first time, and you whined into his mouth. You dug your nails into his shoulders and he pressed into you once more. He did it again and again and again until you were overcome with pleasure. Then he did it again. 

You stood beside the tube that would take you up into the arena. You couldn’t explain how you felt. Your entire body felt like it was thrumming but your mind was quiet. There were a million things you wanted to say, but not one word passed your lips. 

Aemond had come down with you even though he wasn’t supposed to. You held tight to his hand and he didn’t say a word. He had spent the morning rapidly telling you things you were sure you would forget the moment the horn went off. He had stopped occasionally to kiss you, to caress your hair and hold you until he started breathing normally again. But he could do no more. The countdown had started, and you had a minute before you had to get into the tube. 

“You know what you’re doing, you can survive,” he said simply, holding onto your hands. But you only shook your head and hushed him. 

“Aemond, if I don’t make it out-” 

“Don’t say that,” he spat out, gripping your face in his hands, but you just shook your head as much as you could in his grip. 

“If I don’t make it out, I want you to know how much I love you. I need you to know. It’s the only thing that will let me die peacefully in the arena. I’ll fight, and I’ll try and make my way back to you, but if it should happen that I can’t… I need you to know.” Your lip trembled and you smiled at him, nodding as if everything was fine and you would be back in a minute. 

“I know, I know, of course I know,” he whispered, pressing his lips so tightly to yours that when you pulled away they throbbed. “But you…” he gulped and shook his head and you saw the tears begin to collect in his eyes. “You just make it out,” was all he whispered, and kissed you again. 

He kissed you until you had to rush to get into the tube. He stood by the glass as the final countdown began, ten seconds ticking by faster than they ever had before. And just as you began to rise, hands slipping against the glass, he mouthed ‘I love you,’ but he didn’t know if you had seen it. 

Endnote: I truly believe Rhaenys would win the shit out of the hunger games 

#hotd x reader #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x fem!oc #hunger games au

[nackrosor]

~Midnight Healing~

𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

[I highly recommend to put this song on repeat as background music. It will help set the mood.]

warnings/tags: 18+ smut, p*rn with feelings & plot, unexperienced reader, first kiss, first time, oral s*x (fem receiving), p in v, soft Ghost, slow dance, mutual pining, slight angst/comfort, Soap being the best mate, the team being supporting in their own way lmao, cap. price approved 👌🏻 summary: You're at the pub, enjoying a night out with your team. The soothing lulling music, the booze, Johnny's taunts and your own repressed feelings embolden you to invite Simon to join you in a slow dance. The dance leads to long overdue confessions which in turn lead to your first time together. word count: 12.5k. (longest one yet)

A special and huge thank you to my dear @magnoliabutters who has helped me SO MUCH. You've given me so many suggestions that inspired me to write the best possible version of this story. I probably would have given up halfway through if it wasn't for your support. I love you and appreciate you a lot. ♥️

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, elbows resting on the smooth surface of the counter with a thumb circling the cold rim of your half-full glass of bourbon. The soothing blues music playing in the background adds to your sense of calm, with notes vibrating through your limbs, echoing in your ribcage, and clearing your thoughts. You let yourself be lulled by the soft melancholy tune, quietly humming along and rocking your head in rhythm. 

Given your job as a task force officer, you rarely get a breather and a chance to enjoy a night out. It is a luxury for you and that is what makes it so special, a time to truly look forward to. Especially when you can share it with your brothers in arms, your family, not bonded by blood but by a profound feeling born through shared hardships and nurtured by trust, respect and understanding. One would imagine you'd prefer to spend your free nights alone or with different people, perhaps even a one-night lover, rather than with your coworkers, the very same guys you spend your entire days with, through sweat and tears, anger and frustration, and occasionally a moment of respite. This is exactly the reason why you wouldn’t dare unwind with anyone else; they are everything for you, the sole people you trust and you would gladly give your life for without hesitation. Why would you need anybody else? 

Seeing them loosen up for one night, just enough to treat themselves to a pint or a glass of whiskey is such the delight. You wouldn’t even need to chug a drink of your own to feel the tension leave your body, finally allowing yourself to relax. 

This time is no exception. Same place, same company, same feeling of being exactly where you need to be, of needing literally nothing else in the world.

"Enjoying yourself?" 

Soap's voice sounds clear in your ear and interrupts your blues-induced trance. A lazy smile greets you as you turn to look up at him. He settles down on the barstool next to you.

"Yeah… I love this music. It feels like a lullaby but instead of making me want to sleep, it makes me want to move, you know? "

"Sounds like you want to hit the dance floor! Care to give us a show?" 

"Wouldn't you like that!" 

You smirk at him, bumping your shoulder against his.

"Who wouldn’t?” he returns the nudge, playfully winking at you, “But I know someone who would particularly enjoy it, more than anybody else."

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. Every time you come to the pub, you can't avoid one or two, occasionally three, drunken brash males hitting on you or simply gluing their eyes on you from afar, never stopping for the entire time you're here. You'd think that being literally surrounded by four menacing - some more than others - muscular men would prevent anyone from ever looking your way twice, especially weak-minded misogynists who don't believe a woman could take care of herself… That clearly isn't the case. Go figure! These people have no sense of shame or… self-preservation. 

"What ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude is staring at me this time?" 

A chuckle escapes him. He shakes his head as he swirls the liquid in his glass before taking a sip. 

“No ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude , just a possibly ugly dude.”

"Oh?" a wry smile takes form on your lips, "well, I could get behind that."

"He's been throwing some not-so-sneaky glances your way ever since we arrived."

"Yeah?”, you ask, taking a quick glance around the room. “Coordinates, Sergeant. Don’t leave me in the dark."

Soap's eyes glint mischievously as he subtly nods to your left, then raises his glass to his lips to take another sip and mask his grin. You follow the trajectory of his nod, gaze skimming the whole length of the counter, overlooking the serene faces of Gaz, Laswell, the captain, until it locks on a familiar pair of big dark eyes. The smirk on your lips immediately falters and your stomach flips. 

Simon is holding your gaze, seemingly unfazed, arms folded across his chest and muscles flexing under his black windbreaker. No matter how accustomed you are to seeing him in his casual attire, your heart always loses a beat whenever your eyes land on him. The way his skull balaclava hugs his face and the way the hood of his dark grey sweatshirt is all the way up, hiding his head, make his mesmerising eyes circled with black make-up even more striking and thus much more lethal to your poor weak heart. You’re so attracted to him, so infatuated… you’ve never felt this inexorable pull toward anyone before. It’s like a new form of gravity, so strong that you can’t even avert your gaze; it takes too much effort, like going against the laws of nature. 

Soap’s giggle draws you back from the trance. Your eyes dart around aimlessly for a moment before you whip around to glare at your friend.

“You’re a bastard.”

He shrugs innocently, that stupid grin of his still tugging at his lips.

"You saw it for yourself, he was staring."

"Yeah, 'cause he probably heard you or read your lips or… something."

"Right,” he says with a scoff, elongating the word. “Didn’t know superman was part of the 141…"

His mocking tone makes you roll your eyes. Grabbing your glass, you bring it to your lips and savour the sensation of the cool, sweet but strong liquid flowing down your throat. As you knock the empty glass back onto the counter, you catch a glimpse of Ghost. Fortunately, this time he appears to be engaged in discussion with Price, providing you with the green light that allows your wistful gaze to linger on him, unnoticed. 

"Well, you must admit that…”, you mutter almost to yourself, eyes reverently roaming his figure, “...if anyone had superpowers in our team, it would definitely be him." 

"Heh. You certainly look at him as if he already has them."

Johnny interrupts your reveries again and you shake your head, tearing your eyes away from Simon and trying to clear your mind in the process. "Stop it. He's just, he's-" 

"He's single, for all I know." 

The sergeant shrugs again with an innocent smile as you give him the stink-eye.

"You’re a menace ."

You poke him hard in the ribs, causing him to wince and almost spill his drink. You both can’t help but laugh.

“I swear if you told him or anyone anything… I'll strangle you in your sleep.”

“Mmm, so passionate, y/n. He’s gonna love that.”

You roll your eyes again, yet can't help but smile.

Soap is your best mate; you're closer to him than the rest of the squad, which is saying a lot given how close the team is. You may or may not have let your feelings for Simon slip during a private conversation one night at the HQ while you were a little tipsy, and he's been a little shit about it since then, unwilling to let you live it down. You know it's all in good fun, there's no malice in his words, but his taunts do nothing to help you keep your feelings under control. 

“You should tell him, by the way.”

“We’ve already talked about this, Johnny…”

“I just don’t understand why you’re keeping it to yourself. You scared of getting rejected?”

You shrug, your gaze fixed on the empty glass in front of you as you fidget with it absentmindedly. He struck a nerve. Taking the first step without being absolutely certain that your feelings are reciprocated and thus making a colossal blunder scares the shit out of you. Actually, the mere thought of taking a shot in the dark makes your stomach churn with dread. 

“Y/n, he would never turn you down. Never .”

“You don’t know that.”

Soap scoffs incredulously. “C’mon! You’ve seen the way he looks at you! There’s nothing PG-13 about it.”

He pauses for a moment waiting for your retort but when you don't give him any, he draws conspiratorially close to your ear. “Although, I guess you don’t get to hear what he says about you when it’s just us boys…”

You perk up, turning toward him with a curious and clearly hopeful look on your face. Does he know something you don’t? Or is he messing with you? You can never tell with Soap.

“W-what does he say?”

Soap grins victoriously, undoubtedly pleased with himself for catching you failing, yet again, to hide your stupid little crush. 

"Gave my word that I would keep my mouth shut..."

“Ugh!", you push him away with a hard smack on his arm, "you’re insufferable.”

“Go talk to him and find out on your own. In the unlikely case that what you fear the most happens, any of us smart boys would gladly take his place in your heart, love ."

You shake your head with a scoff, eyes drifting aimlessly to the other side of the room. Turns out, Johnny was trying to get under your skin, as per usual, however you can’t help but mull his words over.

Perhaps he's got a point, perhaps it is time to let it all out in the open and face the consequences , whatever they might be. Johnny said that Simon has talked about you with the guys. It might be nothing, but what if he really has let his own feelings slip during a conversation, just like when it happened to you with Soap? Or perhaps, he had a real heart to heart talk with his mates… 

You have your doubts, but then again why would Johnny mention that he spoke of you? Why would he try so hard to reassure you that Simon would never reject you? Why would he stress out the fact that he often gets caught staring at you? Could your friend be doing this solely for a laugh? No, Johnny is not that kind of person. He cares about you and he clearly understands how much you care about Simon. He would not give you a friendly push merely to watch you fall face first to the ground. There must be some truth behind his jokes and teasing… but are you ready to risk it all to find out? Being rejected isn't the only fear that prevents you from acting on your feelings... 

"Whatever.” You sigh at last, propping yourself up by pushing your palms against the edge of the counter. “I'm here to unwind, not get caught up in my head as usual. So… now, I’m going to dance. And, just to be clear, I'm not doing it for you or Simon or anybody other than myself."

The pointed look you give him makes Soap raise his hands in defeat, however it doesn't wipe that little smirk off his face. The glass grazes his curled up lips as he looks at you with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah… You'll thank me later.”

His words get lost in the rising bustle of the pub; the cacophony of voices and the clatter of glasses gets louder just as the music fills your ears the more you get away from the bar. The soothing tune comes out of two huge amps set at either side of an empty stage, and floods over you, the sole person standing in front of it. You feel a bit self-conscious at first, sensing everyone's eyes on you but you try your best to ignore them. Letting your eyes flutter shut, you focus solely on the music, allowing yourself to be transported by the slow lulling rhythm. 

Soon, you're swaying your hips in time, your feet picking up their own pattern. You don't care about how you're moving, how it may look; all you care about is letting go, setting yourself free, feeling the music pass through you, and being completely in the moment. You dance worry-free, entirely surrendering control of your body to the enthralling and sinuous voice of the electric guitar. Few things are more freeing than dancing like nobody’s watching…

The song comes to an end almost too quickly and so does the enchantment that has seized you. When you open your eyes, chancing a look around you, you immediately meet Simon’s stare. He's still sitting at the bar but now he's turned toward you, back to the polished wood of the counter, one elbow resting on its edge. Clearly he has been watching you the whole time, enjoying the show , as Soap said. You feel a thrill run through you. Perhaps it's the alcohol kicking in, perhaps those feelings pushed deep inside you are finally emerging to the surface. Or is it just the adrenaline of the dancing still holding control over your body? 

Regardless of the answer, you find yourself walking toward him; the initial notes of a new song matching your sultry and unhurried steps. He firmly holds your gaze, but you notice the shifting in his seat as you approach him with renewed confidence.

You stop when you’re right in front of him, a coy smile plays on your lips while you hold out your hand.

"Care to join me?" 

His eyes flicker to your extended palm then wander over your face, as if he's looking for a cue that would tell him whether you're joking or being serious.

"You're outta your mind, princess ."

You raise your eyebrow at the word 'princess'. He knows you don’t like to be called like that but he doesn't seem to care. He keeps using that stupid term, especially when he wants to reprimand you, putting you in your place or just to tease you and get under your skin. But there is something in the way he said it just now, an endearing nuance in his tone that combined with his thick accent makes you melt like chocolate.

"Why? You seemed really interested only a minute ago."

You tease him with a challenging look on your face while you nonchalantly tug down the zip of your biker jacket. After the dance you're feeling a bit flushed, you need to let your skin breathe. No other reason for uncovering your cleavage, right? Definitely not to draw his attention to the deep neckline of your dress. Of course not, why would you do that? 

"I was only-" 

You interrupt him, arms folding across your chest, drawing his eyes even more to the curves of your body. " Enjoying the show , right."

"No.” He counters quickly, his voice loud and clear even over the music. Doesn’t he sound a little nervous? Or are you simply imagining it? 

“I was just… glad to see this carefree side of you. It's a good look on you."

You stare into each other’s eyes, your heart thumping hard in your chest. You didn’t expect to hear him say that.

"Well…”, you bite your lip as you try to ease your racing heart, arms falling back to your sides, “...dancing is very freeing. You should try it."

"I don't think it would work for me."

"Why don't we find out?" 

Shivering just a little, you take another step forward. His head slightly cranes up so that he can keep his piercing gaze on yours. You move your hand on his wrist, fingers wrapping gently around it before giving a little pull in your direction.

"C'mon…", you give him a teasing smile as you step back, head nodding back to the space behind you, “...let’s go.”

Despite your pulling, Simon doesn’t budge a single inch, but you see him hesitate. You keep tugging at his wrist, stepping backwards, even attempting to pout, until he silently relents and stands up, letting you drag him toward the stage at last. You didn't expect him to give up. You thought you'd have to put much more effort into it, or that you'd have to be the one giving up in the end. You're genuinely surprised by the turn of events but you won't let that dent your spirit now. You've just started playing with fire and you can't help but feel the thrill of it, the excitement lighting up inside of you. 

You stop when you reach the spot you previously made your own during your solo dance and turn around to face him. He stands there, tall and motionless, the hood of his sweatshirt still on; he looks so out of place on the dance floor, the sight makes you chuckle.

"Don't worry Si, nobody would dare judge you."

"I don't care about that."

"No?"

With a smile on your face, a gaze fixed on him, you start to sway your hips in sync again. His eyes immediately flicker down to take in your movements. He doesn’t seem to care about the fact that he looks like a freaking pole, standing so still in front of you, not moving even one muscle. His whole focus is on you and he seems to particularly enjoy being able to watch you from the best seat in the house.

“You could move your shoulders a little bit, you know? Or even just nod your head in time with the music.”

It’s so evident that he doesn’t know what to do with his body, where to even begin. You almost feel guilty of having dragged him there, of putting him on the spot.

“Here, follow my steps.”

You pick up a simple left-to-right footwork, following the slow but steady rhythm of the drums and encourage Ghost to mirror your motions with a nod and a gentle smile. He studies you, eyes observing your body attentively, picking up every little movement you make. 

He appears quite stiff as he attempts to follow along; his bulky body doesn't seem keen to make him look as graceful on the dancefloor as it does on the battlefield. But he's trying at least, and quickly getting the hang of it.

“That’s it! You’re not half bad, Si!” 

A soft chuckle escapes you as you bite your bottom lip. Seeing him dance - or try to - makes you oddly giddy, euphoric even. It's just such a rare and bizarre thing to see that you can't help but smile wide and enjoy the moment to the fullest.

Raising your arms in the air, you swing your hips and bend your knees as you lower your body to the ground, only to raise up again, twisting your curves like a snake. The thrill of his probing stare piercing you causes you to shudder; his eyes are unwavering, admiring your every move with utmost devotion. Having his undivided attention makes you feel alive, it makes you feel special and bold. 

You take a step closer and reach out to grab both of his hands in yours, your movements mellowing to fit his laid-back rocking. His calloused hands are surprisingly soft and warm as they wrap perfectly around yours, like matching pieces of a puzzle; his touch feels comforting, stable, safe. As you look up at him, eyes locking once again, you feel your heart pound rapidly in your chest. A small smile takes form on your lips to mask the turmoil rising within you.

“This feels… nice, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

Your heart soars upon hearing his answer, smile widening.

“I didn't know you could dance."

"I can't dance”, you correct him with a light chuckle, “I simply enjoy moving my body to the music."

"Never seen you do that before."

"Well, most of you guys don't even like listening to music, so I only get to do it when I'm on my own… which is a rare occurrence since apparently you babies can’t leave me alone for more than one minute."

You squeeze his hands playfully, a cheeky grin playing on your face. You notice his eyes crinkle lightly in response.

"You can use my office, if you want. There's enough room to… move around."

You let out a hearty laugh, head shaking softly. Your eyes lower to the floor for a moment, monitoring the way both your feet move perfectly in sync and at the same time picturing the silly image in your mind.

"You gonna sit at your desk, grumbling over your paperwork while, with music blasting in my ears, I dance like nobody’s watching right in front of you?" 

"Why not,” he says with a shrug.

His voice doesn’t betray his collected demeanour, but you know he’s smiling underneath that mask.

"Well, for one…”, you raise one eyebrow, giving him a knowing look, “I think it would get pretty distracting, rather quickly." You bring your joined hands to the level of your eyes and his chest, slowly interlacing your fingers with his. The muscles of his arms seem to tense for a moment.

"...Fair enough."

"Secondly…”, you trail off, eyes flickering up to meet his serious stare, voice losing a bit of its jovial nuance, “...people might start talking."

"Who cares."

His remark is curt and blunt, and it takes you a bit by surprise. He actually sounds as though he wouldn't care less if your coworkers were to start spreading rumours about you two possibly being... intimate. Or perhaps you're merely grasping at straws. After all, you're talking about dancing. Nothing more, right? 

"You’re telling me that you wouldn’t care what the others may think or say?" your tone is clearly hesitant this time, vulnerable even, eyes frantically searching his, "...watching us dance like this? Being this close?"

He keeps silent for a long moment, gaze boring into yours. His hands then pull on your wrists, tugging you closer to him. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, while your hands fly onto his chest for support as a surprised gasp escapes your mouth.

“How could I give a crap about them or what they think… when I have you here in my arms?”

His straightforward statement catches you off-guard, causing you to stumble upon your feet. It feels like the tables have turned. Your flirtatiousness made him take the bait and now you’re the one who doesn’t know how to act. Your boldness instantly vanishes, it’s as if you never had it in you in the first place. A tardy nervous chuckle slips out of you as you struggle to regain your synced rocking.

“You must’ve had a drink too many, huh Si?”

“Never been more lucid in my life.”

You stare deeply into his eyes, a wild-eyed look on your face, as he firmly holds your gaze. Tension soaks the air around you, you can sense it getting thicker and thicker. Suddenly, there's not a single soul in the pub but you two. Your eyes locked, bodies swaying gently together, lightly brushing against one another. Your heart thumps forcefully against your chest. 

[ 2:26 min .]

… 

I just want to get your head back, baby

Give you all the love I got, for sure

So, baby, if you've got that feeling

You know I wanna give you that midnight healing

Oh, I just want to make love to you all night long

… 

Perhaps it's merely your perception, but the music appears to get louder. The song’s lyrics are now distinctly clear; they echo in your head, tickling your mind like a subtle hint intended specifically for you.

Returning your attention to Simon, you detect a strange glint in his eyes. Did he receive the hint as well? The way his grasp on your waist tightens, palms roving over your sides and drawing you even closer to him, seems to confirm your supposition.

You both seem to lean forward, attracted like magnets, until your faces are merely inches away. The music deafens, slowly making its way into the background, providing the perfect mood for this special moment. Neither of you says a word, instead you let your eyes speak for themselves. Everything around you seems to blur into a negligible mist. Simon has you hypnotised, just as the music did, with the intensity of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. As one of his hands slides up to your neck, fingers grazing the soft hollow area just above your pulse point, a sharp shiver travels up your spine. 

The room spins around you. All of a sudden, your heart pounds hard against your chest and in your ears. You sway on your feet with fingers tugging on his jacket to keep your balance. His hands move quickly to your back, to support your body as you shift your weight on him for a moment before catching yourself. You feel hot, dizzy, and out of breath. 

"Y/n?" 

"J-just give me a moment, will you?" You say rather harshly, unable to keep the rising panic and tension out of your voice.

His concerned gaze is the last thing you see before you abruptly pull away and dash back towards the counter, mind buzzing, chest tightening. You notice Soap’s smile drop into a puzzling look as he watches you rush over but before he can ask you anything, you hear Gaz's hesitant voice coming from behind you. 

"What's going on?" 

You throw a quick glance over your shoulder, instantly meeting his perplexed look. Your actions seem to have drawn the attention of Price and Laswell, too; you find both of their gazes set on you. 

You struggle to take deep breaths, your eyes darting aimlessly from one friendly face to another while your hands clutch around the table edges, fingertips turning white. It takes all your efforts to not raise your gaze toward the dance floor and rest it on the man still standing exactly where you have just left him. 

"Nothing! It's all going great!" 

Your voice comes out higher pitched than normal but you try to mask it with the most convincing smile you can muster. 

You turn toward Johnny before you can witness the other's reactions or give them time to question your words. Your friend pierces you with a questioning look that doesn't leave room for lies. 

"I-I think I'm gonna pass out."

He immediately reaches out to place a comforting hand on your arm as he slides his freshly refilled glass towards you.

"You ok? What happened?" 

Your hand shakes as you grab the drink. You rub it to your forehead, cheeks, and neck before moving it to your lips. The cool sensation of the glass against your feverish skin seems to ease your panic, even if only a little. You focus completely on the cold liquid scorching down your throat as you take a long sip. 

You gasp, pulling from the rim of the glass. "Nothing. It's just-" you take another deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut,"...it felt all-too real, all-too quickly, I guess. I'm not entirely sure. I panicked."

"Y/n," he coos softly, gently squeezing your arm, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to-" 

"But that's the point! I want it! We were so close, I mean… you saw it! If it wasn't for the mask, I’m pretty sure he would’ve leaned in for a kiss. I-I felt my heart was about to burst!” The words fall out of your mouth in a nervous rambling. “I wanted to close the distance so bad… that I fucking ran away." A deprecating chuckle escapes you, eyes rolling in disbelief. "I'm so fucking stupid!" 

Johnny squeezes your shoulder again, offering you a genuine smile.

"You are not stupid, y/n... Well, maybe just a little bit." He grins in response to your not-so-convincing glare. "Could a little more privacy help you feel better? You know there are rooms upstairs, you could always go there if you want to..."

You watch as his hand disappears inside his jacket and reappears a moment later, holding a small silver key between his fingers. He holds it out to you and you take it from him mindlessly.

Soap laughs as he detects the mute query in your stunned expression.

"I took it earlier thinking I might get lucky and use it for myself, but it looks like I’m not the lucky one tonight…"

Your gaze darts from your friend's face to the key, then back to him. Your heart starts racing again as the true meaning that small metallic object holds hits you like an unforeseen gunshot to the chest. You let out a loud groan, your hands flying to your face to hide your grimace.

"What is it now?"

"Johnny...", his name falls out of your lips in a sing-songy cry, barely audible above the music and chatter. Lips quivering both in embarrassment and fear for the confession you’re about to make. With a whisper, you share, "I've never been with anyone before... I've never even kissed anyone." You chance a look at your friend through your fingers. "What if I make a fool out of myself in front of Simon? Hell, who am I kidding? I-I already have!"

The astonished expression on Soap's face only aggravates your growing anxiety.

"Creeping Jesus! Y/n… I thought you… uhm, it’s okay-," he awkwardly shifts in his seat, his mouth opening and shutting without emitting a single sound, at least not one that you can hear. His gaze abruptly darts to the side, focusing on something far over your shoulder before moving back to rest on you with a barely concealed alarm. "Ok, take a deep breath, he's coming over."

You only have time to curse under your breath and pull your hands away from your face before you feel a presence behind you that makes every hair on your body stand on end.

When you hear your name being called, you turn warily to face the man standing by your side, stomach twisting as you meet his inquisitive stare. You believe you can also see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, too. 

"Simon, I'm… I'm-"

"She needed some fuel, L.T.!" Soap rushes to your aid, grinning up at Ghost and smacking him on the arm - a little too hard. "She's all good now… right, y/n?" 

He gives you a quizzical look, as if he's asking whether you're ready to handle the situation on your own or if you need more time; at least, that's what you believe he’s trying to convey.

You respond with a feeble nod before your gaze shifts to Simon. You offer him your glass. "A sip?"

He stares at you intently, seemingly studying your face, his expression now unreadable. 

"No."

"A-alright, more for me..." you fake a smile and then guzzle the drink all in one go. You slam the empty glass on the counter as you suck air through your teeth, grimacing at the piercing sensation of the scorching liquor spreading inside your system. Your gaze is drawn to Soap's, and you give him a somewhat confident smile, which he returns with a little wink.

Your hand then moves on its own accord, finding Ghost's large palm and interlacing your fingers with his; the contact sends a chill up your spine. When you look up at him, a ghost of a smile appears on your lips. You're not sure what you're doing or what's going to happen, but you try not to second-guess yourself too much and risk screwing up for the second time in a row.

Taking a step back, away from the counter, you beckon him to follow you.

"Come with me…"

He does not resist your pull. He does not hesitate for even one second. He trails behind you as you lead him up the stairs and to the second floor. 

Neither of you dare utter a single word as you walk through the corridor and come to a door that matches the number on the key Soap gave you. You don't dare glance at him as you walk in, taking in the dim tavern-like atmosphere of the tiny bedroom. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the king size bed in the centre, which takes up most of the space. Your mouth goes dry. You wonder what Simon might be thinking, if the same thoughts that course through your mind are pestering him as well. 

The sound of the door being closed startles you and makes you whirl around. Your gaze immediately captures his, and you gulp under his piercing stare.

With slow heavy steps that mismatch your thundering heartbeat, he walks over to you, stopping only when he’s towering right over you, standing tall in all his imposing height. You keep your gaze levelled in front of you, unable to meet his eyes, however his fingers curl under your chin and nudge your head up, forcing you to face him. 

" Princess… " he murmurs in a low breathy tone, his voice tinged with something akin to irritation, “why are you playing little games with me?”

Your stomach flips again. Of course he’d assume you’ve been messing with him, leading him on; it’s only fair considering the odd behaviour you’ve had all night. And probably not just tonight. 

“I’m not, trust me…”

He pauses for a brief moment, his keen eyes studying your face, possibly looking for proof of your sincerity.

"You brought me here. Why ?" 

"I-I don't know…"

"You don't know?" 

You mentally reprimand yourself for your dumb answer and shake your head in an attempt to dissipate the haze that has settled over your mind.

"I mean, I know why, but-" you try to swallow but your throat is dry. The intensity of his dark eyes boring into yours causes you to stutter, "f-fuck Si, you make me so nervous I can't even think straight!"

Your voice comes out louder than intended and soaked with frustration. Your hand moves on his wrist, tugging at it to pry yourself free from his grasp, but his hold on you does not relent.

"You were dancing for all the pub to see until a minute ago, and I make you nervous?" 

"Yes! Of course! I don't give a damn about those strangers! Why should I? Besides that's not the point! You make me nervous because you are... you are-" 

You shake your head again as you let out a shuddering breath, your gaze averted from his. You know you can't really back down now. You have to tell him the truth but it's damn hard to find the right words to express exactly how you feel. And more than that, to finally find the courage to say them.

You feel like your heart is on the verge of bursting out of your chest.

"You’re someone I really care about, Simon."

His fingers squeeze your chin, urging you to look up, and when you do you notice that his eyes have softened. 

“That made you panic?”

You give him a lopsided smile, but a short-lived one, for your anxieties come tumbling back, slithering into your mind and compelling you to address them, once and for all.

"T-There's something else..."

You want to tell him that you've never been with a man before, that you've never even had your first kiss yet, and that the thought of him, the only man you’ve ever loved, desired , possibly being your first, makes you incredibly nervous and self-conscious. You really want to tell him everything and free yourself of this burden but your voice gets stuck in your throat and you gape up at him, feeling your stomach churn.

Simon waits patiently for you to speak up, his fingers still holding your chin. The soft look he offers you seems to ease your tension a little. 

"I have…”, you draw a sharp breath, "...no experience in this field , if you catch my drift...”. You mutter those few words in a small voice as your face twists into a grimace. 

Your confession hangs in the air for what feels like eternity, your heart seems to have stopped beating altogether. 

"I know."

“Wha-?!”

You are completely thrown off by his matter-of-fact tone.

"H-how? Why-" you stutter, mouth gaping, your eyes wide. How could he know? You've never told anybody, not until a few minutes ago. But he couldn't have heard you, could he? That would be impossible. 

"Is it really so fucking obvious?" 

"No.” 

In stark contrast to yours, his voice sounds cool and collected. His fingers graze your skin as they move up from your chin to your cheek. "I figured you had no idea how this worked when suddenly you’re lacking your usual confidence and turning into a bloody school-girl. It threw me off at first. I thought you didn’t want this…”

" Hell…”, your head slowly shakes in disbelief, eyes darting to the side. 

Suddenly you don’t know if you should feel relieved, ashamed or sorry for it all. Your own body chooses for you, opting for an odd mix of the three; shoulders slumping, mind buzzing, you stare into space while his words sink in. 

So he's been into you the whole time but your mixed signals, caused by your stupid anxieties, have made it look like you were not into him? Or that you were just playing with him? Seriously? What kind of shitty B-rated rom com is this? 

" So , you've never been held by a man.” Simon’s calm voice draws you back to the moment, his fingers taking hold of your chin once again. “ Blimey . Is that what makes you so nervous?" 

"Is it really not a problem for you?" you ask out of genuine curiosity, brows furrowing as your eyes meet his.

Simon’s scoff almost turns into a hearty laugh as he holds your gaze, eyes crinkling.

"No man has ever put their filthy hands on you and I should be - what? Sad? Disappointed? For God's sake, princess..."

He shakes his head, fingertips taking better hold of your jaw as he leans down.

“You and your worries…” His tone is almost scolding but playfully so, eyes studying every feature of your face. “Stop thinking so much, you numpty . It’s not good for you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know…”, you let out a long shuddering breath, in an attempt to let go of the lingering worry still tightening your throat, "I just… don't want to fuck this up, Si. You mean too much to me..."

He hums softly. 

Silence engulfs you. A silence tinged with renewed tension. Not the type of tension that fuels your anxieties but the kind that makes you warm inside. Soft distant notes coming from downstairs fill the room, washing over you in a soothing yet electric wave, reminding you of the dance you shared, of how close you were and the desire that was rising, burning hot, inside of you. 

Just like a magnet the attraction between you and Simon grows. 

His free hand moves on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him and just like before, out of instinct, your hands land on his chest. He holds your chin high, his gaze piercing straight to your heart.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" 

You bite your lip, surprised by his forwardness, a nervous giggle shaking through you. "What kind of question is that-"

"Do you want me to kiss you, princess?" 

He asks a second time with a more serious tone that makes your nervous giddiness fade. Looking deep into his eyes, you take a long breath to ease your racing heart, or at least attempt to.

"Y-yeah, I want you to kiss me."

His hand moves over yours resting on his chest, and guides it up to his neck. 

"Pull up my mask, uncover my mouth. Only my mouth."

You stop breathing altogether, heart jumping in your throat. 

"Y-You want me to do it?" 

"Aye."

Touching his mask, pulling it up to uncover his face feels like such an intimate gesture… Your eyes roam reverently over his newly uncovered skin as your fingers gently peel up the fabric of his balaclava, until his mouth is completely exposed to your sight and you can let your adoring gaze truly linger for the first time. You’ve caught glimpses of his face before, his chin looking vaguely familiar for the few times you’ve seen Simon drink or eat in front of you and the team. But that’s all it has ever been: glimpses. You’ve never been allowed to study his clean-shaved chin and alluring mouth like you are now, from so up close.

"You have pretty lips…"

Your comment slips out of your mouth before your mind could register it and you grimace out of embarrassment. "Uh, sorry, that was-" 

Words die on your tongue as soon as you feel his hand firmly squeeze your jaw. Your eyes immediately dart to his, which bore into yours. Slowly - breathtakingly slow, he draws closer until his lips hover inches away from yours and you can feel his hot breath on your skin. You swallow dry. In a heartbeat he closes the distance, kissing you gently, softly but with a clear, barely-withheld passion. 

You respond to the kiss after a moment of stun. The contact of his lips on yours feels like a soft dream at first, one that seizes your mind in a haze and makes you walk on cloud nine, and then grows in force, as if Simon can't contain his desire any longer.

Your lips part and his tongue slips into your hot mouth, eager to explore this new territory. You moan in the kiss and meet him in a twisting dance of control. 

Every move comes surprisingly natural to you, as if you’ve done this a million times before.

His hand travels down from your back to your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessive squeeze, then slips even lower to lift your short black dress at its edges and tug it upward just enough to expose the back of your thighs. He doesn't waste time when moving his hand onto that newly uncovered area, kneading the tight flesh there as he bends forward, causing you to arch your back and latch your hands around his neck. Bodies tucking closer. 

You take a deep breath as you slightly pull away, lips still grazing his, your hot breaths merging together. 

All the words you thought would play out in your head in such an important moment are now nowhere to be found. Instead, it’s all just a feeling of rightness between you and him. None of your fantasies could have ever prepared you for a feeling so… intoxicated. 

"Simon…", you usher in a barely audible whisper, slipping your hand under his jacket and feeling his muscles tense under your wandering touch. His lust clouded eyes search yours, his chest heaving hard, hands pressing against you and relenting a second later, as if he’s trying to restrain himself. 

"...I want you to be my first."

A guttural sound comes out of his mouth at your words, his fingers spread again on your ass cheek, squeezing it hard and causing you to whimper. His gaze seems to get darker and he draws closer once more, teeth grazing your bottom lip, nibbling at it. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Positive."

And just like that, as if a barrier has been finally lifted, his lips crush onto yours once more but harder, hungrier than the first time. In one swift motion he yanks the biker jacket off your shoulders and tosses it on the floor. You instantly match his eagerness, returning the favour; his own windbreaker dropping at your feet. 

Before your mind can register what’s happening, you find yourself back against the wall, your shoulder blades hitting the hard surface in an audible thud. You feel your guts twist as heat starts to pool in your belly. 

Your lips are still connected, unwilling to separate. His hands dive on your hips, the thin fabric of your flared dress creases under his ravenous groping. One hand slides down, curling up the hem and slipping underneath, meeting the side of your bare upper thigh. His palm closes around it, firmly, possessively as he lifts your leg up to his hip; you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to find a red mark on your skin later, nor would you be displeased. You moan in his mouth in response and let your own hands wander on his body, blindly scanning the muscles of his torso from above his sweatshirt, only to slide lower and lower, until you find its edges and curl them up. Your fingers sneak under the fabric, meeting the smooth skin of his abdomen; his muscles tense up at the teasing contact. Your palms climb up his abs, his pecks, committing the tactile sensation of every inch of his taut torso to memory. 

As you both pull away, gasping for air, you let your eyes fall to where your hands disappear under his clothes; you want to look at him, feast your hungry eyes on his naked body but before you can do it yourself, Simon grabs the hem of his sweatshirt and pulls it off his head, adding it to the rest of your discarded clothes. However, he doesn’t give you time to take his bare chest in, for he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up like you weigh nothing at all, walks you over to the bed and drops you on the mattress. 

Only at this moment are you allowed to let your eyes wander over the muscles of his torso, probably the only part of his body you've already had the pleasure of seeing in the past, although mostly in not so pleasant times, when he needed to be patched up. This time it's totally different. Your hungry gaze devours every inch of him, glinting in twisted pleasure when it meets the scars that you remember having tended to yourself. 

You're too eager to touch him again to keep laying there waiting. Quickly throwing your boots off the side of the bed, you crawl on your knees toward him, hands latching on the inseam of his trousers to unzip them. In the meantime he yanks his own boots off his feet and out of the way, with eyes glued to yours. 

When you're done with his zip, before you can tug his jeans down, he pushes you back on the mattress and joins you on the bed, settling himself on top of your body, knees resting at either side of your legs. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time.”

The way his raspy voice breaks a little as he ushers his confession makes your stomach twist.

“Do w-what, exactly?”

His hands move on your collarbone, peeling the thin straps of your dress and your bra off your shoulders. You allow him to tug them down your chest as you look up at him with nothing but unyielding passion. His eyes wander over your freshly uncovered breasts and you can see his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, jaw setting hard. 

He takes a moment to answer, staring down at you, perhaps struggling to give voice to something that has been swirling against the recesses of his mind for quite some time. 

“Push you on a bed, pin your body under mine and… taste you.”

A sharp shiver runs up your spine at his words, heart skipping a beat. 

One of his palms closes around your breast, firmly squeezing the soft flesh, while the other lifts the skirt of your dress up to your stomach. Without missing a beat he bends down beneath your thighs and presses his mouth against your panties, just above your lower belly. 

“Oh!”

Your hips buck up on their own at the sudden stomach-churning contact. His free hand moves to rest on your upper thigh, pressing your body back against the mattress. 

"This is uncharted territory, innit?"

"I-It is, Lieutenant…", you match his playful tone even though your voice is but a mere whisper, struggling to get out in between your ragged breaths, "...nobody has yet claimed that path..."

You hear him hum in appreciation and you feel his voice too, vibrating against your core.

"Don't mind if I do."

You take a sharp breath as you feel his lips press against you again, only lower this time, teasing your most sensitive part. The thin fabric of your underwear does nothing to muffle the intense touch and yet the obstacle irritates you, you want it out of the way and Simon seems to share your feelings. Both his hands move on your hips, grabbing the hem of your panties and sliding them down and off your legs. A thrill curses through your whole body at the sight of your undies being tucked inside the back pocket of his jeans. Simon’s eyes crinkle lightly as they watch your reaction, lips curving into a smirk.

You don’t really care about them now, whether he’s planning on returning them or making you walk out of here butt naked. All your attention is drawn to the cool breath blowing against your delicate skin, turning hot only a second later as Simon leans closer, until you feel his lips meet your heat and cause you to whimper. The cloth of his mask grazing against your folds only adds to the stimulating touch.

His hot tongue swipes up your core once, twice, with hands spreading you wider for him to reach every inch of you. Another slow stripe from your entrance up to your clitoris and your body shakes in ecstasy. He latches his lips to you and starts to suck hard, swirling his tongue around your nub and dragging it up and down along your wetness. 

He said it. He wanted to taste you. And that is exactly what he’s doing, with no hesitation whatsoever, nor waste of time. You’re already a quivering mess beneath him, pathetic whines falling from your parted lips, hands closing in fists as fingers dig into the sheets. 

“F-Fuck, Simon…”

You feel his soft chuckle against you; it drives you mad. 

He shifts from his position, lips pulling away as he grabs the back of your thighs to tug you closer and pin your spread legs to your stomach. You chance a look at him through your heavy lidded eyes. His lips and chin are wet with your juices, the sight ignites a fire inside you that you’ve never felt before. The way you’re spread for him, your privateness so thoroughly exposed for the first time in your life… you thought that you’d be embarrassed, that you’d be awfully shy to show yourself like this, especially to him. You do sense a faint tightness in your stomach and a warmth spreading in your face, yet there’s another feeling prevailing over the rest. A feeling that surges from Simon himself; the way he leans back down, hands travelling up your body to grab your breasts, the way he’s devouring you like a starved man, the way he’s taking care of you, making sure to pleasure you, to make you feel good… It allows no room for awkwardness or discomfort, only a warm pervasive and soothing feeling of pure care and devotion to wash over you and envelope you whole. 

The lewd sound of his mouth working against you has long prevailed over the music and it only seems to grow in tone the more the tightening of the heat in your belly grows in intensity. You feel it coming, the high is close. Your hands fly toward him, landing on his head. You grab his mask, tug at it, feeling it slip from its place, then you freeze abruptly, as soon as you realise what you’re doing. You look down again, instantly meeting Simon’s hard stare. A strange glint passes over his eyes; he seems to ponder something for a moment then come to a final decision. In a few dismissive moves, he pulls away from you, grabs the dark fabric curled under his nose and yanks it off his head, throwing it carelessly on the floor. 

Your heart is sent into a frenzy. It no longer knows what to do; whether it should keep thundering in your heart for the intense and building pleasure or stopping altogether for the shock of what you have just witnessed. Your wide eyes wander toward him, curious and hesitant at the same time but they only catch a glimpse of his bare face before he disappears between your legs once again, latching his mouth on you even more greedily than before, possibly feeling more free in his movements without the mask impediment. You want to watch him, stare at him as he drives you to heaven but your head falls back on the mattress, eyes squeezing shut and back arching sharply as a wave of skin-crawling chills sets your entire body aflame. It is nothing like the orgasms you’ve had before, when you touch yourself. This is a new feeling; it’s intense, it goes to your head, it makes you dizzy and wordless. It makes you feel loved. 

Simon keeps moving against you, tongue curling at your entrance, gathering up the fruits of his hard work. His hands still pinning your thighs close to your stomach, fingers digging in your soft flesh as he eases your shakes. 

Your mind is still struggling to come out of the haze when your hand blindly travels down in search of him. Fingers tug at his short locks of hair, urging him to come up to meet you. He lingers a moment longer to press a soft kiss on your swollen bundle of nerves, then on your lower belly and between your breasts as he makes his ascent. Finally he faces you, eyes meeting again. 

If your body wasn't already heavily overwhelmed, the sight of his beautiful sharp features would send all your senses into overdrive. 

He looks at you so openly, dark eyes twinkling with adoration and what you can only read as vulnerability, that you find yourself unsure of how to act. 

Would this special moment turn awkward if you were to make a comment on his looks? You wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Removing his mask must take such an effort… you don’t want to risk making this more stressful for him. You opt for keeping your comments to yourself, at least for now. 

Instead, you let your hand rest on his face, caressing his skin, softly, slowly, as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world and you have to handle it with utmost care. You hope that by doing this you can show him and reassure him that everything is ok, nothing has changed, surely not for the worse. That you deeply appreciate the fact that he decided to let his guards down, to be vulnerable with you. That’s what you try to convey with your adoring gaze and your tender touch, and you sincerely hope it reaches him.

When you feel him lean into your touch, a content smile spreads on your face and you instinctively tilt your head up, capturing his damp lips in a passionate kiss that instantly rekindles the desire inside of you. Simon matches your eagerness, hands travelling down your body to caress, grab, squeeze, grope and tease anything he finds on his path. You do the same, mapping his muscular torso, skimming your fingers down to his navel. 

For a moment, only a moment, you hesitate to go lower as you get caught up in your head, worries threatening to hold you back again, but the way he interrupts the contact of your lips to place a trail of sloppy kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck makes your worries fade again and you slip your hand inside his unzipped jeans. You relish in hearing the guttural sound that rewards your action; it compels you to rub your hand over his boxers with more confidence, feeling his bulge with a light squeeze.

Simon hastily brings his hand to his waistband and tugs it down, his boxers receive the same treatment. Your hand now closes around his erection, giving it a few tentative strokes. He draws a sharp breath.

“ Bloody hell , princess…”

He mutters in the crook of your neck and you shiver. His reaction encourages you to increase the vigour of your movements.

“Is this ok?”

He hums softly, hips starting to buck in sync with your hand. He lets you fondle him, drag your fingers on the tip wet with precum, make him moan in pleasure as your hold around his girth tightens… then he pulls away, grabs your hand and brings it to his lips for a soft peck on its back.

You follow his movements, eyes drawn to his lips then flickering down to his cock. By the touch you assumed it was pretty big and the sight only confirms your thoughts but it shocks you anyway.

You hear him huff a laugh through his nose.

“Do you think you can take me, mh?”

Your eyes dart back to his face, meeting his amused look.

“I don’t know…”, you bite your lips, the angles of your mouth curling up in a playful smirk, “but I sure as hell ain’t gonna back down from a challenge.”

Your heart soars with joy seeing his face crack into a pleasantly surprised expression, a chuckle coming out of his mouth.

“Good girl.”

He pins you with his mesmerising gaze, bending down on you again. He leans on the side, toward the bedside table. You crane your neck to watch. His hand slips into a black smoking-bowl and comes back with a small metallic sachet. Protection. Of course. This place is well-equipped. Your curious eyes keep following his movements as he takes the condom and secures it onto his throbbing erection. You swallow as his gaze moves back on your face, your stomach starts churning again. He seems to sense your nervousness and leans down, hand grabbing your jaw, eyes piercing right into yours.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be gentle.”

You nod with a smile, then take a deep breath.

“It’s okay. I trust you, Si.”

He leans in for a quick soft kiss, hand guiding his erection between your legs, tip rubbing against your slit to coat it in your wetness. Your whole body tingles in anticipation. 

“Stop me anytime if you need to.”

He waits for your confirmation before he slides in, bit by bit, easing you to the intrusion. An instant groan comes out of his mouth.

“Oh, you’re so fucking tight!”

Your brows furrow, your jaw sets, soft cries come out of you as he settles inside your walls but you don’t stop him. He kisses your neck, right on the spot he learned that makes you quiver the most, your hands clutched at his sides. It doesn’t take long for the nagging feeling to fade and for you to get accustomed to the sensation as your core stretches to welcome him fully.

Simon feels your body relax and starts to push into you, slowly, carefully, letting out pleased grunts of his own. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs and lift them up to his waist. You latch your legs around his body, a maneuver that allows him to bury his cock deeper inside you and that causes a loud moan to erupt from you.

“G-God… That’s…”

His lips trail back from your neck to your jaw, teasingly brushing your skin, until they hover on your open mouth; his eyes take in your contorting features with a pleased smile. 

He rocks at a steady pace against you while his hands roam your body, travel up your hips, caress your breasts, skim along the shape of your arms, stopping only to let his fingers interlace with yours, and pin your hands down to the mattress, at either side of your head.

You feel your lucidity slip from you completely. No coherent words come out of you, only a nonsensical mumbling. The way he’s thrusting inside of you, so deep and precise, hitting that perfect spot at each push, it takes every fiber in your being not to scream out loud and make the whole pub know how Simon’s fucking you sensless. 

You can only focus on how you’re connected to him, how he is filling you up so beautifully, how your bodies move wonderfully together; it’s almost like a dance, a primal animalistic dance that belongs to you two only. You even have the music to accompany your dance moves, a soft sensual melody that perfectly complements your passion-imbued union of trembling bodies.

So this is how it feels to have sex? This is how it feels to be wholly consumed by lust and desire? Or could this overwhelming sensation simply be Simon’s doing? To have him make love to you?

“Y/n…”

It takes a lot of effort for you to hum back in response.

Simon’s lips crush clumsily against yours as his movements become frantic and sloppier. He must be close to reaching the high. And so are you. Your eyelids are heavy, your sight slightly blurred and unfocused.

“Si, I think I’m about to-”

He pulls away from your lips, spine straightening, piercing eyes landing on your face as one of his hands slips from yours and travels along your body, down toward your core. He deliberately rubs your slit with his palm before he picks up a hectic waving motion to stroke your swollen nub, immediately triggering a shock wave of shivers to spiral up your back. Your head spins at the additional stimuli. Your eyes squeeze shut, cries fall out of your mouth as you contort in pleasure.

You feel his other hand grab your jaw and shake it lightly, demanding your attention.

“Eyes on me, beautiful.”

You look up at him with glazed eyes, dizzy and yearning for your release. With every stroke and every thrust you lose yourself more and more into the bliss.

His hand settles on your neck, closing around your throat, not hard enough to delay your breathing but providing you with such a thrilling and wicked pressure that makes you salivate and that instantly sends heat flaring in your belly, causing your need to build faster and even more intense.

Panting hard, your hands now free, you grip onto Simon’s strong arms while you progressively lose focus on every way he’s indulging your desire, instead centring your heightened senses on the feelings he’s awakening. The last thread of restraint then finally snaps and you reach the peak, core lightening with an answering flame that you’ve never felt before. You lose yourself in the waves of pleasure overtaking you, barely taking notice of Simon’s rutting inside you once, twice, three more times before his body goes still against you and a deep groan erupts from him. Both of you anchor the other’s body, pressing together, relishing in the other’s shudders and panting breaths. You’re so flush against him that you can feel his heart, challenging your own in a speed race and then gradually slowing down.

Chest heaving, you cradle the back of his head, letting your fingers thread between the roots of his hair, while he blows his hot breath on the crook of your neck as you both ease down from your highs. The warmth of his body is comforting against yours, you never want him to let go. The rousing feeling of his cock still buried inside you, resting between your fluttering walls is one you could easily get used to. It almost takes your breath away when Simon slides out of you, leaving you bare.

His damp lips press against your boiling skin, trailing up your jaw. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, committing this idyllic moment to memory. 

His thumb gently strokes your chin, fingers resting upon your cheek. When you open your eyes, he's already looking at you with the loveliest smile you've ever seen graze his face. You return it with one of your own.

"Si..." you pause, staring deep into his eyes. There's so much you want to say, a multitude of emotions running wild and untamed inside of you that needs to be addressed and yet you struggle to find the right words to tell him how you feel.

The realisation of what has just happened downs on you. You've spent years fantasising about this moment, fearing the real thing wouldn't even come close to your idealised perfect first time. Wondering when, where, with whom you would live through this experience. You're euphoric to admit to yourself that the real thing has surpassed the fantasy by a landslide. 

"I'm... glad it was you."

It sounds silly when you say it. You could have chosen from a billion other thoughts you had swirling in your head, yet this one drowned out the rest. But as silly as it may sound, it’s the truth: you’re beyond thrilled he was your first. There’s no other man in your life that you trust, respect, and love as much as him with whom you could share such intimacy. 

You see the angle of his lips curl up to one side, the pad of his thumb softly brushing the outline of your bottom lip. 

" I'm glad it was me ."

Your face cracks as you erupt in a giggle. With your palm against his cheek, you gently push him away. "Simon..."

He smiles down at you, his eyes crinkling as he leans down again to kiss the crown of your head before drawing all the way back and getting off the bed. 

Your gaze follows him as he tosses the used condom into the trash can and pulls up his underwear and jeans. As he picks up the rest of his clothes from the floor and gets dressed again, your devoted gaze glides up and down his body, a permanent smile engraved to your lips. You feel so lucky to be able to witness such a sight… You still have a hard time believing your eyes.

“Now, who’s enjoying the show ?”

His amused glance meets yours, and you give him a sheepish smile, followed by a shrug.

"I'm just taking it all in..."

"Oh, you've already taken it all in , princess."

You let out a shocked scoff, your mouth wide open. You dismissively wave your hand in front of your face and shake your head, as you feel a crawl of heat flooding to your cheeks. 

"Oh, shut up..."

You love his sense of humour. It’s one of the qualities you like the most about him. And now that you’re… well, even closer to him, the sarcasm is only bound to get more pungent. Not that you’d complain about it.

His low chuckle fills your ears as you distract yourself by adjusting your bra and dress, then taking a seat on the side of the bed to slip your boots back on. You notice a heap of black and white fabric on the floor at your feet and bend down to pick it up. It's his balaclava.

The thought doesn’t even have time to fully form in your mind that you’re already pulling the mask over your head. Unfortunately there’s no mirror in the room to check your reflection, to see how the skull fits you but the cloth feels surprisingly nice against your skin and… you can smell his scent.

The sudden lack of rustling from behind you causes you to spin around and you find Simon staring at you, holding your jacket. He walks toward you, handing you the garment, reaching then for your face to adjust the fabric on your nose and on your chin. He stops to give you an appraising look.

"It looks better on me."

You chuckle, smacking him playfully on the chest. “Oh, c’mon… what if I want to wear one, too?”

"And hide your beautiful face? Negative.”

“Well, then…”, you pin him with a challenging look, palms pressing hard against your cheeks, securing the mask on your head. “I won’t let you hide your beautiful face, either.”

You see him softly shake his head as he huffs a chuckle through his nose. After a moment, he reaches for his back pocket and retrieves your undies, waving them high above your head. 

“What? You’ll put those on your head instead?”

You try to suppress the laugh by biting on your lips but it erupts out of you anyway, like a river in flood. The pointed look he gives you only makes it worse.

“Alright, alright…”

Still snickering, you pull on the fabric and peel it off your head, holding it out to him. 

He takes the mask from you but doesn’t let go of your undies. He puts them back in his pocket as casually as he took them out.

You scoff, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" 

“I’m keeping them, as a memento.”

You stare at him, appraising his solemn expression. If he wants them then you’ll let him have them - the fabric is ruined anyway. They're not even your favourite pair, thankfully.

“First and last time you steal something from me, Si!”

“Can’t make promises, princess.” 

Your chest swells as you try to read between the lines. It's inevitable. You can't help but wonder if he means to tell you something else. Will there be a next time, or multiple next times? Does he plan on stealing something else? Like, your heart? To be honest, he's already halfway there, but he doesn't need to know that. At least not yet. 

You keep on looking into each other's eyes for a bit longer. You think you can detect the profound fondness behind his look. Your lips curl up in a shy smile.

“Ehm… I believe we kept the guys waiting long enough." you say, breaking the silence. "We should get back downstairs."

He gives you a curt nod but instead of moving away, he draws closer to you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he leans down and angles your head to brush one more kiss against your lips. The contact is strikingly gentle and it takes your breath away. It’s a kiss infused with unspoken words of devotion, promises, feelings which are too strong to be shared so early on but that are already there, growing, blossoming. Both your hearts are gardens in bloom. 

He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours for a lingering moment before taking a step back and disguising his face once again. 

The action saddens you but at the same time it fills your chest with pride; you're the only one who has been blessed to bask in the beauty of his seldom-seen bare face and no one else will receive such special treatment. Not today. Hopefully never. Is it selfish of you to wish that? Perhaps, but you don't care. Not when images of your lovemaking are still so fresh in your mind. Not when you can still feel the worshipping touch of his hands and tongue on your body. Certainly not when the cool, humid air of the room hits the wetness of your exposed core beneath the dress. 

You exchange a knowing look before moving towards the door and walking down the stairs together. That soothing tune, now linked with poignant core memories, floods in your ears once again, growing louder as you return to the main area and towards the bar. Your team is still at the counter, exactly where you left them... how long ago? You have no idea how much time has passed. You were too engrossed in your passion to pay attention to the outside world and its trivialities.

Johnny glances behind his shoulder just as you and Simon make a beeline toward the group. You can see his lips moving; he must be saying something to the others because they all crane their heads to look at you before returning to their drinks. Soap is the only one who whirls around, bivouacing on his seat and all over the counter like a fucking braggart as he meets your eyes and winks at you. 

Oh, he'll take yours and Simon's hookup as a personal victory, and he'll brag about it; you already know it. But you're far too happy right now to be bothered by it. Let him gloat. You're the one who got the reward, anyway. 

When you eventually make it to the bar, no one acknowledges your arrival. Nobody says anything about your absence or the dance prior to that. Their silence only serves to emphasise that they are all aware of what happened. The furtive glances they cast your way, some more mischievous than others, serve as plain confirmation. 

"Now that we're all here, I suppose we can head out." 

The captain's voice calls out to everyone as he stands up from the barstool. "Unless the two lovebirds fancy one last drink?" 

You try to ignore the appellation he used and the way your stomach flipped in response. You raise one hand and shake your head, avoiding his eyes as well as the urge to glance up at Simon. "I'm good."

A beat.

"Alright then. Off we go."

On cue, everyone gets off their seats, some knocking back their glasses, others stretching their legs. You take advantage of the shuffle to walk over to Johnny and hold out the key to him. He takes it back without a word but the sly smile playing on his face is hard to miss. You hope at least he has the decency to hold off of grilling you for deets until you’re back at the HQ.

You seem to catch a movement in your peripheral vision: Price giving Simon a firm pat on the shoulder? You’re tempted to turn your head to take a better look when a loud scoff interrupts you and draws your attention back to your best mate.

"Bloody hell, y/n! You and L.T. are not joking around!" 

Your brows furrow upon hearing his remark and when you follow the trajectory of his stunned look, your eyes widen as they meet the cloth of your undies poking out of his back pocket. You spring into action right away, grasping the exposed edge to yank it farther inside his jeans. Simon’s own hand reaches behind him to wrap around yours, fingers interlacing, as he maintains his focus on Price in front of him. Your chest swells at the gesture, heat rising in your cheeks,  but you manage to turn around and zap Johnny with a fierce glare anyway.

He makes a show of zipping his lips and throwing away the key. However, the grin he flashes you is so contagious that you find yourself returning one of your own.

It appears like you're in for a ride full of taunts, jokes, knowing looks and funny name-calling. Your mates will give you two no rest… but who gives a shit about it? Simon said it first. Why should you care? You'll take this and much worse if it means getting the chance to explore your feelings with the man of your dreams and spending many more nights out - or inside his spacious office - dancing together.

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[celtic-crossbow]

A Sting in the Way You Kiss Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Poorly written, raunchy smut, Dom/sub dynamic, p in v, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), prostate stimulation

Summary: You and Daryl take the next step in your relationship. And it’s a big step.

A/N: Lawd, this took forever! I’m not 100% happy with it but happy enough to call it complete. I think I like Sub!Daryl. I’m sleepy now so I’ll proofread and fix errors tomorrow.

Daryl Dixon made you feel powerful. 

Given his nature, you could never be sure if it was intentional. From day one at the quarry, he was rude, standoffish, and vulgar. You found him difficult to tolerate, but hey, you didn’t get to choose the people with which you had survived an apocalypse. It was a random twist of fate that had brought you all together. Better to just make the best of it. 

So, you did. You made it a priority to get to know everyone in your group, saving the Dixons for last. Merle, you quickly surmised as a lost cause. Women, to him, were meek and fruitless, destined to die without a big strong man to ensure they were protected, fed, and bred like cattle to repopulate the earth. 

You found Daryl to be a tad more reserved. He only offered his opinion—usually loudly and to include several swears—when the conversation revolved around an important topic that would directly affect him or his brother. He otherwise attempted very hard to keep to himself. So when you began to follow him around, he naturally bucked against the idea. Still, you saw potential there and persevered. 

You took an interest in the things he was doing, namely hunting and trapping. He was a skilled tracker and a marksman with his crossbow. You started small, asking how the weapon worked. He had been skeptical and scrutinized you for sincerity, all with a glower in the span of five minutes. It was only uphill from there. 

When Daryl began to teach you his trades, he made sure you learned by doing. His only praise for getting something right was usually a curt nod and a “that’ll do.” By giving you weapons, having you track a buck that would feed the group for days, spear a fish, and skin and clean your own kills, he had put power in your hands. He had single-handedly molded you into a force that could survive in the new world. 

When it came to walkers, Daryl somehow knew things that others didn’t. “S’gotta be the brain! Don’t ya’ll know nothin’?!” You knew. Thanks to him. You had spent a lot of time in the woods, the perfect place to learn how to take down the undead. It was virtually impossible for them to sneak up on you. Too many ways to make noise if you weren’t actively trying to be silent. Once again, a weapon had been placed in your hand and you were thrown to the wolves…erm…walkers. The difference between this and hunting, you noticed, was that Daryl was never too far away with his own weapon ready. He knew how to make you feel independent without wagering your safety. 

The months and tragedies continued to pass slowly, each profound in their own way. Surviving was top priority and to continue to do so as time marched on became more and more of a victory. You lost people and homes, each leaving a mark on your soul that would never be erased, chipping away at your humanity bit by bit. Surprisingly, it was Daryl who kept you grounded. 

By the time you arrived in Alexandria, things between you and the archer had evolved into something just short of a romantic relationship. You had been sharing space with him for months now, falling asleep warm in his arms every night. You would show him affection in front of your friends and, though he scowled and grumbled, he accepted it. Kisses alternated between slow and passionate and long and needy, each accompanied by intimate touches that never seemed to go far enough. 

Today, you had been helping him with the bike Aaron had gifted him to keep him busy. He had shown you back at the prison how to make repairs, along with the correct name and function of each part. He was sitting beside you while you both diagnosed what could be causing the thing to sputter and die randomly. Your eyes were drawn to his muscles when he would tighten a bolt, and more than once, you had caught his gaze roaming up the length of your bare legs until he reached the hem of your shorts and quickly looked away. 

It was becoming a problem. An absolute dilemma that was resulting in a pulsing, wet need between your thighs. You chose to ignore it and focus your energy on the task at hand. Daryl, however, decided that he needed the wrench that just happened to currently reside between your lower thighs. When he reached for it, you were unprepared and reacted instinctively. You smacked the back of his hand before you even realized you had moved. He pulled back the limb with surprising quickness, wide blue eyes zeroing in on the red welt that began to form just below his knuckles. 

“Shit! I’m sorry!” The words tumbled out of your mouth as you grabbed his hand to inspect it yourself. He let you pull it closer even though it meant he had to lean forward awkwardly. Your fingers brushed over the irritated flesh and before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to the mark you had left. A chance look from under your lashes showed he still wore the wide eyes, but the brilliant blue was merely a thin ring around his dilated pupils. 

‘Oh.’ Could it really be? You had honestly thought Daryl just wasn’t into sex since the world ended. He had never made a move, never given you any indication that he was waiting for you to make one. Sure, your make-out sessions would get pretty heated, but honestly, things were always too hectic or dangerous for anything more. Maybe, just maybe, now that your family was safe behind the walls here…

You knew Daryl had lovers in the past. It was a topic of conversation once during a night watch before the prison had fallen. Your head was on his shoulder as you recounted — in more detail than he had liked, if his growls and grunts had been anything to go by — your average-size list. When it had been his turn, he hadn’t been as forthcoming as you but you at least surmised that he knew his way around a pussy if ever the opportunity presented itself. 

On a whim, you flipped his hand and let your lips whisper over his wrist next, drawing up your legs to sit on your knees. He still didn’t stop you while you moved up his arm with hot, open-mouthed kisses and kitten licks. Eventually, you needed to skip over his clothed shoulder (for now) and his neck became your next target. He leaned back slightly when you threw a leg over both of his to straddle him, unleashing an onslaught of attention over his carotid pulse. His breath hitched, his palms hovering over your hips but seemingly not yet willing to touch you. You would use that to your advantage at some point. 

Salt, smoke, and earth were mingling on your tongue. “I like how you taste.” You whispered in his ear, smiling against his skin when you felt him shiver. You leaned back to bring your face in front of his, fingers grabbing his chin when he started to look away. “I think we need to go to your room.” He swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing. 

You stood straight up from where you were on his lap, leaving your feet on either side of his hips and the apex of your thighs directly in front of his face. Once again, he tried to look away. “Don’t.” You ordered before you thought better of it. To your surprise, he stopped short and turned back, even as he scowled from being bossed around. ‘Oh.’ The things he told you without saying a word. “Don’t keep me waiting, Dixon.” You stepped back and then over, swaying your hips more deliberately than usual as you exited the garage. 

You didn’t turn to see if he would follow. If you were reading him right, he would. 

And you were about to have the time of your life. 

Entering the home you, Daryl, and Carol shared, you passed the staircase that led up to your room and stepped into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. You probably had a good ten minutes before Daryl would stop pacing the front porch and actually come inside. 

Descending the stairs from the kitchen, you opened the basement door and flipped the light switch. Even though you had separate rooms, you spent more time in his room than your own. The things you used most were down there. You slept there. Nothing was really going to change if this happened, right?

Pursing your lips, you shook the thoughts away and placed the water on the nightstand, twisting the switch on the small bedside lamp. After you turned off the overhead light, satisfied with the subtle glow left behind, you grabbed the bottom of your shirt, pausing just before you were going to lift it over your head. No. You’d stay dressed for now. Your boots came off, along with your socks, and you sat on the edge of the mattress and waited. Sure enough, after a little less than ten minutes, you heard the slow, heavy footfalls descending the stairs. 

He must have needed another moment because there was a silent span of about fifteen seconds before the door slowly opened and Daryl entered, already gnawing on his thumbnail. 

“Hi.” You beamed, crossing your legs and leaning back. The bowman nodded minutely, looking so adorably uncomfortable that you came close to calling the whole thing off. You did need to ensure this is what he wanted. If it wasn’t, you could live without it. You had him and he would always be enough. 

When he closed the door and didn’t take another step, you rose to your feet and walked toward him, adding that extra sway to your hips. It was a pleasure in and of itself to watch him watching you. When you were close enough, you started by pushing the open vest off his shoulders, smiling when he dropped his hand from his mouth to let the garment fall from his arms to the floor. 

“Daryl.” You purred his name, and his eyes found yours instantly. “I need you to answer some things for me, and I need you to use words.” You worked at the buttons of his shirt agonizingly slow. “Can you do that for me?” He nodded. You shook your head and tutted. “Words, Dixon.”

“Yeah.” He answered immediately in a quiet tone. 

“Do you want me?” A button came free. 

“Yeah.”

“Do you know that I want you?” Another. 

“Yeah.”

“Will you let me be in control tonight?” Your fingers paused when he hesitated. “You don’t have to—”

“Yeah.” He may have hesitated but his answer sounded certain. 

You smiled. “I’m going to give you a safe word. If at any time, you’re uncomfortable or you need or even just want me to stop, do you promise me you will say that word?” Another button opened. You had zero intention of going very far, but it would never hurt to establish rules when you wanted so badly to play with him. And he was letting you. You feared getting carried away in the heat of the moment, and his safety and comfort were the most important thing in the world to you. 

Daryl inhaled sharply and nodded, following quickly with a mumbled “yeah.”

“And if at any time, you can’t speak and want me to stop, will you double tap somewhere on my body to let me know?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Good boy.” You felt his sharp inhale beneath your fingers while you finished with the buttons, opening the shirt but not removing it. You could see a few of his scars like this. Not wanting him to grow self-conscious, you stepped into him, tracing one with a gentle fingertip only to follow with your lips. “You’re beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?” Daryl shook his head. “Daryl.” 

“No.” He whispered. 

“Well, you are.” You let your finger continue upward to stroke his jaw before abruptly turning away. “First thing’s first.” When you reached the bed, you turned back to him. “The safe word is chupacabra.” A flicker of annoyance was immediate in his eyes. “Say it.” Your tone remained no-nonsense.

“Safe word’s chupacabra.” He drawled, trying not to sneer. 

“And what do you do if you need to stop and you can’t speak?” 

“Tap on ya twice.” The archer replied almost immediately. 

You cocked a brow at him. “Good. I need you to understand that I will never be upset or disappointed if you need things to stop. Ever.”

“Alright.”

You smiled at him fondly. “Good. Now, come over here and undress me.” There was that hesitation again as his eyes raked over your body, pausing at every curve just long enough to let you know he was appreciating what he saw. Finally, he stepped toward you. Once he had reached you, he again paused. You let him. He had touched every part of you before through your clothes. This was the first time he would see you bare.

After a few moments, he reached for the bottom of your shirt while you raised your arms above your head. The garment was pulled from you and tossed aside. Your bra wasn’t anything special. Something you had grabbed on a run a few months back; white and at least one cup size too small. You decided to do this part for him, unfastening the clasp at your back and removing the thing yourself. Daryl didn’t seem to mind, his gaze lingering on the newly exposed skin. Men and boobs, a tale as old as time. 

“Shorts.” You stated simply, a smirk firmly plastered on your face when he snapped out his daze and met your eyes. There was a slight tremble to his hands as he reached for the button, his eyes narrowed. You watched him and he watched what he was doing. Button open, he dragged down the zipper, and his eyes flickered up to yours. You gave him a nod. 

His thick fingers dipped inside the waistband at both hips, but just as he started to pull, you interjected. “Panties, too.” You heard the shaky inhale as he adjusted his hold to grip your underwear as well, lowering to one knee as he pulled both garments down your legs. They were quickly shed and kicked to the side and your hand found the top of his head when he made to stand. “I think I like you there.”

Daryl tilted back his head to see you, taking the hint and lowering his other leg so he was fully kneeled. 

“Good boy.” You breathed, feeling a pulse between your legs. You had wanted to do a few other things with him before really jumping into the fun bits but your needy cunt simply would not be denied. The mattress dipped as you sat in front of him, spreading your legs in an obscene display just to gauge his reaction. The blush that crept across his cheeks should have been adorable but only served to stoke your arousal. “Come here, Daryl.” A few feet separated the two of you, so it was only natural for him to assume you wanted him to stand. 

That isn’t what you wanted at all. 

“I didn’t say get up.” 

The archer paused halfway. The look he sent you had you wondering if this was where he would end this game. He’d say ‘fuck this’ and do things his way, pounding into you until you were red and sore and screaming his name through your release. The thought was appealing. 

You arched a brow when he lowered back to his knees, a quiet curse on his lips. Would he do it? The minute he leaned forward to place one palm against the floor, you thought you might cum then and there. Daryl Dixon was crawling toward you because you told him to.  

He stopped just short of your spread knees, one of your legs coming up to rest on his shoulder. He looked over at it but quickly turned back to you. 

“Closer.” As soon as you could, you started digging your heel into his back, urging him onward until his warm breath was wafting over your core. You bit your lip, reminding yourself of the role you were playing. Your first instinct was to beg him to touch you. No, not tonight. He’d have his turn. The thought of Daryl taking charge sent another sharp pang of arousal straight to your center, your cunt clenching around nothing. The way his eyes left your face and focused on the wet mess between your legs confirmed that he had noticed. You had to reel this in if you wanted to continue. Clearing your throat, you placed your other leg across his other shoulder. “I can’t decide if I want to feel your mouth on me or those fingers inside of me.”

You tapped your chin, feigning deep thought. You had every intention of utilizing both of those delicious options. Dropping your hand, you rested back on your elbows. “Let’s see how good you are with your tongue first.” Daryl gave you a look that would have melted your panties clean off had you still been wearing them. Goddamn, he was handsome, even more so when he was showing some confidence. 

Before your mask had a chance to slip, you felt his fingers spread you open but dare not venture between your lips. Blue orbs stayed on you when he leaned in and pressed his tongue flat against you, dragging it from opening to clit before pulling back to repeat it. The second drag ended with the tip swirling around your bundle of nerves. Sparks of pleasure jolted from where he touched you. You could feel it coursing through your veins like lightning, burrowing deep in your lower belly. 

He paid special attention to your clit, taking his sweet time alternating between flicks and swirls of his tongue to gentle sucking to grazing his teeth over it with just enough pressure to make your head fall back and your fingers tangle in his hair. Then he moved down, lapping at your opening with the same attentiveness, the wet slurps and appreciative hums pulling the knot inside you tight. When he dipped his tongue inside, pumping in, out, in and then wiggling it against your inner walls, you were already close to orgasm, panting and pulling against his scalp helplessly. 

He was moving back toward your clit and you knew if he made contact, you would spiral. Not a satisfaction you were ready to relinquish to him. “Stop!” You ordered breathlessly. He almost didn’t, the brat. His breath hit hard against the sensitive nub but he didn’t touch it. “I want your fingers inside me.” You kept your head back, staring at the ceiling. “Nowhere else.” Your climax had receded but it wouldn’t take much to call it back. 

You never had a problem cumming from penetration only, but it took time and effort. It would give you a moment of reprieve to gather yourself and draw this out a little longer. 

Or would it? 

You were wet enough for his middle finger to easily slip inside, the feeling of your walls pulling him in further earning a drawn out moan from somewhere deep in your chest. You raised your head to look down the length of your body. Thank whatever deity that Daryl was watching his digit move in and out of you instead of meeting your eyes. He felt so fucking good. 

Your legs pulled toward you, leaving your ankles balancing on his shoulders and your thighs opening further. You couldn’t fucking help it. “Another.” You demanded and he immediately obliged, drawing his finger nearly all the way out so that his index finger could join the onslaught. “Mmm, so good,” You praised. Your hips began to roll in time with the slow thrusts of his hand, the hot coil that was low in your belly getting tighter and tighter. 

The sounds that filled the room were a testament to just how soaked you were, and they were only becoming more prominent. It was no longer about how long you could keep this up. Your body ached for release, your mind too clouded in a euphoric fog to care. 

“Make me cum.” You looked down again and his eyes met yours as he lowered his head, drawing your clit into his mouth. He sucked the swollen bundle and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, his fingers curling each time they pushed inside of you and tapped that sweet, soft spot that had your toes beginning to curl. 

“Yes, yes, right there. Don’t stop!” And he didn’t. He increased his efforts, humming around your clit. “I’m gonna cum!” You had no more than uttered the words when the coil inside you snapped and released wave after wave of intense pleasure; a wildfire of sensation burning through you while you cried out his name and pinned him against you with your thighs. Daryl didn’t let up, collecting all you offered as your cunt pulsed around his fingers. 

“Shit,” you murmured, your body going limp. Fingers carded through the archer’s hair while he pulled free from within you. He directed the digits toward his lips. “Let me.” The command came out breathless and shaky, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Daryl appeared almost sad that he was losing that last taste of you, but he did as he was told and leaned forward to press his fingertips to your bottom lip. You sucked both digits into your mouth, your eyes fluttering closed. 

“Goddamn.” 

Your eyes peeled open to find the bowman watching you intently, those blue pools brimming with desire. You smirked and made a show out of opening your mouth and letting your tongue sweep across his skin, gathering every drop of your nectar. The man looked as if he was going to jump your bones. He was trembling from restraint, among other things, you were quite sure. With a hum, you pulled your mouth away. 

“Stand up.” The authoritative tone was back now that you were focused on a new goal. Daryl blinked, arousal replaced with irritation. His scowl deepened but once again, he obeyed. Rising up onto your elbows, you watched him stand, flexing his fingers at his sides. Using the ball of your foot, you pressed into his groin, against his obvious desire. The archer hissed through his teeth but he dared not move. 

“Take off your clothes, Daryl.”

A smile crept across your face at how quickly he began following that command. His shirt was shrugged off in seconds and you couldn’t even be sure when his boots and socks had been removed, but you pressed your foot into him again when he reached for his belt. He stopped with a grunt. 

“Slower.”

If looks could kill, you’d soon be a walker. His hair blew away from his eyes with each hard exhale through his nose. Once again, you wondered if this was where your fun would end. And once again, he surprised you and began to follow your instructions. Your foot fell away once he had worked the belt loose and popped open the button. Your eyes tracked the downfall of the zipper, only barely concealing your excitement. 

His pants fell first and the regret of not demanding he remove those and his boxer- briefs simultaneously was immediate. Though his underwear left very little to the imagination in his current state. You met his eyes for a moment and raised a brow to urge him onward. 

“Don’t get shy on me now, Dixon.” You teased. Moving up onto your knees at the edge of the mattress, you barely waited until the last garment was kicked aside before your hands were on him. You wanted this experience to be positive for him, and while you had so, so much planned for him tonight, taking a moment to just appreciate how stunning he was wouldn’t hurt. Your lips found the skin just above his clavicle, sucking gently. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” You whispered before dragging your tongue up the length of his neck to his jaw. “Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re real. And you’re mine.” Your hand wrapped around his cock just as your mouth pressed against his, allowing you to swallow the delicious whimper he offered at the new contact. You kept your grip loose, pumping him at a tortuously slow pace. His mouth fell open and gave you the opportunity to delve inside with your tongue, tangling it with his when he responded to the advance. His breath between the intricate dances of your mouths had begun to pick up, an excellent moment for you to pull away completely. Your cunt clenched in response to the whine he emitted. “Be a good boy and sit down for me.”

Daryl moved a little more slowly now, almost cautiously, watching you when you crawled up to the top of the bed to grab both of your pillows. Your feet met the floor just as he sat down. You circled around to stand in front of him, lifting your foot and wedging it between his knees. “Open up, pretty boy.” The archer snorted quietly as he complied. The pillows fell between his feet with a quiet sound, and then your knees dropped onto them. You wiggled a bit to get comfortable and looked up to find him watching with his head tilted and a dark brow arched. “What? I’m shorter than you.” 

His mouth formed a silent “oh” and he nodded. The adorable moment almost had you forgetting your role, but you were able to rein in your adoration just before the giggle could bubble up. To bring things back into perspective for him, you raised your hand and whispered the tip of your finger along the vein winding up the underside of his cock. There was a choked off sound, his hands balling into fists on his thighs. You splayed open the fingers of the same hand across his chest and gave a gentle push. 

“Lie back.” 

There was a deep, steadying breath and then he did as you ordered. Your fingers laced through his on both hands and moved them to the mattress, out of your way but still within sight. 

“These stay here.” You commanded without a single centimeter of room for argument. You felt him shifting and just knew he was nodding. “Words, baby boy.” You chose that exact moment to wrap your soft palm around the base of his dick. 

“Yes.” He finally answered in a rush of breath. You weren’t certain if he was responding to your words or your touch but decided to forego clarification. He wasn’t going to last long, so you were ready to play with him through that first release. Then your needy cunt could finally get its fill of him. 

“So good for me.” You purred. You pushed yourself away from sitting on your heels, bringing you just where you wanted to be. You released him quickly, rewarded instantly with him rising onto his elbows to see what was happening. The urge to reprimand was forced down. This was your first time with him and his first time allowing this. If he felt better watching, you’d let him. 

For now. 

Palm open, you dragged your tongue from wrist to fingertip, your lustful gaze never leaving his face. The way he watched you sent a surge of wetness dripping from your core. God, you couldn’t wait to fuck him. First thing was first, though. Your hand met his cock again, warm and wet and stroking from base to tip, a twist, and back down. He couldn’t watch you after all. You nearly laughed when he collapsed back onto the mattress with a groan. 

Movement in your peripheral had you looking to find his hands returning to where you had placed them. He must have realized he had moved them when he sat up. As a reward, you pumped him a bit faster. When you saw his chest heaving but heard nothing more than the harsh breaths, you found yourself pouting before remembering the power you had. 

“You’re so quiet, baby. Don’t you wanna let me know that it feels good?” 

He didn’t respond at first, and you wondered briefly if pushing him would be the right thing when he was such a quiet person to begin with. He had taken a lot of shit from you already and this just might be the straw that broke the camel’s back. So, you just moved on with your delectable torture. 

Your pace slowed significantly. There was no time for him to investigate, though. Your lips were immediately wrapping around his tip, sucking lightly and lapping at the opening to gather the sweet little drops of pre-cum. Oh, were you rewarded for that move. 

His fists white-knuckled the sheets, a guttural moan working its way past his lips. It was the absolute sexiest sound you had ever heard in your life. You closed your own eyes in restraint, almost cumming on the spot. You had to keep moving. Sudden pauses might have him second guessing what he had just done and you most certainly did not want that. He needed to make that noise. Often. 

Swirling your tongue around the tip, you pulled him back into the warm cavern of your mouth. This time, your hand slid down the length of him, followed by your lips. He pressed against the back of your throat and had you cursing your gag reflex when you couldn’t hold him there long. It didn’t matter to him, apparently. The simple move had his back arching and his cock twitching against your tongue as you dragged your way back up. 

You bobbed your head several more times, delighted in the way he began to writhe and twist the sheets in his fists. You gave him no warning and pulled off with a wet ‘pop’. There was that whine again that had your nethers pulsing. 

“Look at me.” You ordered with an authoritative edge to your tone. Daryl lifted his head, still panting through parted lips. “I want to try something. I hope it will make you feel good. But I need you to know that if it doesn’t, you can stop me. Remember what I said. I won’t be upset. Okay?” 

He nodded but followed it with a breathless “okay.”

“Such a good boy.” You kissed the weeping tip of his cock, parting your lips to pull him back into your warm wetness. With your hand and mouth stroking him at a steady pace, you knew he was ready to fall apart within moments. His cock began to twitch every few heartbeats. His breathing was uneven and shallow. He was a complete mess and you couldn’t seem to get enough. 

You used your other hand to cup his balls, not remaining there long. They were a marker so you could find just the right spot. Starting at the base of his scrotum, you applied gentle but firm pressure, dragging the pads of your middle and index finger back and forth to massage his perineum, stimulating his prostate from the outside. Every ‘ah, ah, ah’ he fed you in response to the new sensation was a sound straight to your pussy. He definitely liked what you were doing.  

Once again, however, your greedy little cunt couldn’t be ignored, begging to be stretched and filled. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked hard, your mouth squeezing him all the way up and off. Your tongue slithered out to break the string of saliva that stretched from your lips to the head of his dick. “Mmm, I think that’s enough of that, pretty boy.” 

“Y/N.” He whined, keeping his hands right where you had placed them. 

“You’ve been so good for me, baby. Move to the middle of the bed.” He complied in eager yet jerky movements, lust blown eyes on your every move as you followed him up. You stopped with your hot center hovering over his groin. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of me and you.” You lowered, grinding against and soaking his cock with your slick. “I want you inside of me. Would you like that?”

“Yeah.” Daryl reached for you but thought better of it and put his hands back on the mattress. 

“Look at you. Wanting your hands on me so badly.” You moaned as the tip of him slid over your clit, providing the friction you so desperately craved. “But waiting for permission. Would you beg for it? To be inside me?” 

His lips pressed into a thin line. Had you found the limit to how far you could push him? You drove your hips down harder, shifting back and forth, and he pressed his head into the pillow with a hiss. 

“Beg me for it. Beg me because I want it just as badly as you do, but you have to be a good boy.” His heart thudded wildly beneath your palm as you caressed the muscular plane of his chest, his muscles twitching and contracting when you scraped your nails over his abdomen. “Beg and I’ll let you touch me.” You dipped toward him, letting your hard nipples touch his heated skin while your lips sucked at the hollow of his throat. “I want to feel you moving inside me, filling me up, Daryl. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Y-yeah.”

You sat up, going completely still. “Then beg.”

You watched as the defiance left his eyes, replaced by pure, unadulterated need. His fingers flexed in the disheveled sheets, his jaw clenching and ticking with how hard he ground his teeth. You smiled as desire beat out pride. 

“Fuck, please, Y/N. Wanna touch ya. Wanna—wanna fuck ya. Need ya bad!” His expression morphed into something akin to desperation. “Please!”

“You can touch me.” 

He didn’t wait, large hands grabbing your hips; spreading his fingers as he dragged calloused palms up your sides to cup your breasts. You couldn’t help the hitch in your breath when he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. 

“Wanna be inside ya.” He breathed, one hand traveling upward from the swell of your chest. For a moment, you thought he might wrap it around your throat. The thought of him choking you was delicious, sending a warm gush of arousal from your cunt to coat his groin. He groaned and pushed his hips up into you. 

“No.” You breathed. “Be good for me and I’ll give you what you want.”

“M’good—let me fuck ya. Please, Y/N.”

You hummed, more than satisfied, bending forward to drag your tongue from his chin to his lips. He opened eagerly, his own dipping into your mouth to taste you with abandon. You reached between your bodies, keeping your mouths connected, and positioned him at your entrance.

“Let me take care of you, baby.” Every syllable was spoken against his mouth, your cunt stretching around him inch by inch, drawing him into your fluttering, wet walls while you swallowed his desperate groans and panting breaths. “Fuck. You feel so good.” You made sure to move slowly, inch by agonizing inch, taking several heartbeats before you had taken all of him. 

“God, Y/N.”

“I know, baby.” You were so full, stretched nearly to the point of painful but longing to feel him moving within you. He wouldn’t last long, but you wouldn’t either. You lifted your hips, feeling the drag along your insides in such a way that you needed to bite back a cry. “Oh, god, Daryl.” 

His hands settled in a bruising grip on your waist but he didn’t try to move you. You had promised to take care of him and he was letting you. But you couldn’t take it anymore. You began to ride him in earnest, bouncing above him with your head thrown back. 

“Goddamn!” He keened through gritted teeth, his eyes screwed shut. 

“So—so good.” You felt the heat twisting low in your belly, pooling toward your clit while he throbbed within you. “Touch me, Daryl. I wanna cum with you.” His hands squeezed your hips before he brought one of them to where he was splitting you open, sucking in a sharp breath when his fingertips brushed his cock slipping inside you. He barely had the coherence to drag through your slick up to your clit, but the moment the rough pad of his finger pressed against you, you saw stars. 

“M’gonna,” he panted, “gonna cum.”

“Me too.” You leaned forward, shifting into a brutal grind against his pelvis. “Fuck, Daryl!” The logical part of your brain screamed for you to move off of him, that you couldn’t risk him cumming inside you but you were both too far gone. 

Your vision whited out just as you heard him shout your name, his finger pressing against your clit harder than you were sure he meant to, but it was just what you needed: that perfect amount of pain to send you toppling over the edge with him. You barely registered the warmth flooding into you with each pulse of his cock. Or the way his hips jerked up while his hand squeezed your hip so tightly that his fingertips turned white. 

When you could see, could breathe again, his arms were around you and holding you against him while he struggled to catch his breath. 

“Oh my god.” You whispered against his collarbone. You were both covered in sweat, trembling. He was still inside you, drained and softening, when his arms fell away to the mattress. You sat up with a great deal of difficulty, your thighs burning from exertion and your cunt deliciously sore. You’d be feeling this for at least a day or two, and the thought was exhilarating. 

You lifted your leg to move away, feeling the mixture of you and him begin to drip out of you but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Obviously, he didn’t either, his eyes tracking you until you curled into his side. Sated and tired, you smiled and reached up to brush the damp strands of hair off his forehead, watching his eyelids grow heavier and heavier. 

“I’m gonna get something to clean us up, okay? And then we’re gonna drink some water. Then you can go to sleep.” When he didn’t answer, you turned his head to face you with a gentle touch against his jaw. “Are you okay?” Daryl took a deep breath, almost as if he had forgotten to breathe before it. “Use your words, baby.” You kept your tone soft, no longer playing a role. It was just you and Daryl now.  

“Yeah, m’okay.” He gave you the smallest lopsided smile and you knew he was still floating in that space between reality and euphoria, absolutely fucked out. You couldn’t stifle your chuckle. 

“Alright, just stay awake for just a few more minutes.” You patted his chest and then climbed out of bed to fetch a damp cloth. Daryl struggled but he managed to stay awake. He was silent as you worked, wiping away the mess on both your bodies. The sheets would need washed but that was not a problem you’d solve tonight. “Okay, baby, just drink some water for me and we can go to sleep.” If he had any objections to the pet name being used outside of sex, he didn’t voice them.

It took him a moment and a bit of struggling but he managed to rise up onto one arm, letting you tilt the water bottle to his lips for a few long swallows. Then he collapsed back onto the mattress. You drained the bottle and placed it on the bedside table, climbing out of bed one last time to fetch your pillows. The archer was out by the time you returned only a few short seconds later. 

You grabbed the duvet and pulled it up over both your bodies before curling into his side, smiling when he unconsciously pulled you closer and pressed a sleepy kiss against your forehead. He was done for then, breathing deep and even, sound asleep. 

You watched him until your own eyes could no longer stay open, a muttered “goodnight, pretty boy” before you fell asleep to the thoughts of next time, when he’d be in charge. 

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[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 17

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: Fluff. Smut. Oral (F receiving), fingering, squirting, P in V intercourse, innuendos, language, romantic love making.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

Part 16

After spending the day on the beach and in the ocean, I was getting mentally prepared for the big proposal tonight. I had no idea what I’m going to say to Emma, as verbal confessions of love were a bit of a struggle for me. I know without a doubt how I feel about her, but I just suck at putting all of the words together. I tend to show her how I feel, rather than say it which hasn’t steered me wrong yet but I wanted to make this perfect for her.

I told Emma that I had booked us a dinner tonight at sunset so to get all gussied up and be ready for a fancy meal. Emma showered first saying she wanted to do all sorts of shaving and exfoliating and needed some room. I trimmed up my beard before she was wrapped in the hotel’s bathrobe as she began drying her hair. I went to shower next and spent most of my shower trying to come up with the right combinations of words in my head but being distracted as Emma bent over and flipped her hair from side to side as she dried it. My cock twitched every time she did it because I could only think about how she does something similar when I’m taking her from behind. I willed my dick to calm down, hoping that we’d have an engagement to celebrate later tonight that I needed him to wait for. I tried my best to refocus on my upcoming declaration of love and said a prayer everything would go smoothly. We still had an hour until dinner so I laid down on the bed in my underwear and decided to check in with my grandparents and let them know that we had arrived safely and make sure Mills and Aika were behaving. Nana was so excited about having the dogs spend the week with them, that I swear she might try and keep them. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Nana. How’s it going?”

“Oh, I’m so glad you called! I was wondering if y’all made it safely. How is it there?”

“It’s really nice. Very fancy and we’re having a great time so far. How are y’all doing?”

“We are just fine. These dogs are just a delight, Son. I don’t want to give them back.”

“Maybe I’ll let them come over more often if you don’t spoil them rotten.”

“Well, that’s my job until you give me some human babies to spoil. Maybe you should start working on that. Have you proposed yet?”

“Not yet. I’ve got a dinner booked tonight but I don’t want to say much else. Em’s in the bathroom getting ready.”

“Okay, but you better let me know what she says. Are you nervous?”

“Nah.” I said, but I don’t know why I even bother putting up a front with her. She can read my voice like a book from across the world.

“Don’t be nervous. Just say how you feel, from your heart. You knew right away that she was different and you need to tell her how much you care for her.”

“I’m going try. You know I’ve never been the best with words.”

“You’re better than you think you are, honey.” 

“Thanks. I’m gonna let you go, but I just wanted to check in. Don’t feed my dogs too many treats.”

“Too late! They love Nana’s house the best!” She chuckles.

“Love you.”

“Love you too! Good luck even though you don’t need it.” 

I hang up with Nana and listen to Emma softly singing some pop song while getting ready and decide I better get myself dressed as well. I put on my “church clothes” as my mama always called it and discreetly pocket the ring in my pants pocket. I’ve organized for a photographer to hang back out of sight and photograph the proposal which was the only stipulation that Emma’s mom had when I asked for her hand. I wanted to make the trip to Alabama to ask in person but there was no way I could do that without Emma finding out or getting suspicious. I think back to that nervous phone call.

*Flashback*

I had arranged to speak with Emma’s parents via facetime while she was at work one day and I was nervous as hell to make the call. 

“Hi Austin!” Diana and James greeted when they accepted the call.

“Hey there. How are y’all doing today?”

“Good, probably not nearly as nervous as you.” James said and Diana smacked his arm with a shake of her head and I couldn’t help but chuckle because they were right.

“You wanted to talk to us about Emma?” Diana prompts.

“Well, I know we haven’t been together terribly long, but we are so good together and I have never been so sure about someone before. I have fallen deeply in love with her and I would love nothing more to ask her to marry me, with your blessing of course.” I ramble out probably too quickly. 

Diana and James look at each other with a smile before responding.

“We had a feeling this is what you wanted to ask us because we saw the way you both looked at each other and gravitated around each other when we came to visit. Emma has really opened up since we met you and I have never seen her so, herself. It’s like she finally stopped worrying about every step she took and allowed herself to just be happy.” Diana said and I couldn’t help but smile.

“The answer to your question is yes, you have our blessing as long as you promise to love her and take care of her and treat her with the utmost respect. She may be grown and not need us, but she’s always been my little princess.” James said with an almost sad smile.

“I swear to you both, that Emma is the love of my life and I will do anything and everything to provide for her and give her everything she could ever want.” 

“I’ve seen how you both are together that weekend we came to stay and knew it was the real deal. I’ve never seen her so happy or so in love before and we would be proud to have you as a son-in-law. You’re a good man.”

“Thank you, sir. You don’t realize how much that means to me. Becoming a part of your family would be a blessing. I’m just hoping she’ll say yes. Do y’all want to see the ring?”

“Of course, sweetheart!” Diana responded while clapping her hands as I carefully opened the box and tilted it towards the camera.

“Oh, it’s beautiful, Austin!” Diana coos and I feel proud that her mom is so sure she will like it.

“I’m relieved you think so. I was a little out of my depth but I just felt like it was something I could see her wearing every day. It’s a 2 carat round diamond, with something called baguette diamonds on each side on a platinum band. I plan to ask her when we go to Jamaica in two weeks. I still haven’t figured out exactly where, but I think she’d like it if I proposed near the beach.”

“It’s perfect. I just know she’ll say yes! Could you do us a favor? Could you have a photographer take pictures for us to see? I know she would cherish them as well.” 

“Yes ma’am.” I make a mental note to call the resort and see if I can hire someone to take pictures. I hadn’t thought of anything like that, so I’m glad her mom mentioned it.

“Well, we’re proud to have you join the family son. I appreciate you asking us and letting us in on it. I know she’ll be blown away.” James says.

“Thank you both so much.” 

I swear, I almost cried after we got off of the phone call. The only man that I ever looked up to was my PawPaw since my dad split and started a new family. I felt lucky to have PawPaw but always wondered why I wasn’t good enough for my dad to stay. Having Emma’s family accept me into their own so willingly, really caught me by surprise. I didn’t expect those old feelings to come back up, especially at my age. I guess you never grow out of wanting a father that actually wants you.

*Present*

I think I’ve got an idea of what I’m going to say to her but when she enters the bedroom all thoughts leave my brain. Emma is stunning in a full length royal blue dress and heels with her long hair in soft curls over her shoulders. The dress is simple with thin straps on her shoulders that cross in the back and a cut up to her knee which gives me a peek of her perfect legs when she walks. I’m literally stunned speechless.

“I’m ready. Don’t you look handsome.” She says with a smile as she makes her way to me.

“God damn, Sugar. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.” I tell her honestly and her cheeks blush as she gives me her shy smile. I wrap my arms around her, angling the ring box away from her body and inhale her perfume. 

“Thank you, baby.” 

“I’m tempted to keep you here all to myself but you look so stunning it would be a shame not to show you off.” I whisper in her ear and she giggles.

“Let’s take a picture since we are all dressed up?” She asks and holds her phone out for a selfie. She giggles in the first picture as I kiss her cheek before she makes me smile for a real photo of us together. 

“Perfect.” She says as she reviews the photos on her phone.

“Hungry?” I ask and her tummy responds with a little growl which makes me chuckle.

“Let’s go get that fancy shmancy dinner. If their portions suck, just know I’m going to come back here and order a burger from room service.” I joke as Emma wraps her arm through mine and intertwines our fingers. She seems a bit surprised when I lead her towards the ocean rather than one of the big restaurants on the property until she spots the gazebo covered in twinkle lights at the end of the pier. There’s a man there holding a bottle of red wine near a table covered in flowers and candles atop a white tablecloth and I hear Emma whisper “holy shit” to herself as I lead her towards our dinner location. The water gently crashes against the shore around us and the sunset has cast an array of different colors into the sky, mostly orange and pink which even I can admit is gorgeous. I take a peek at my watch and see that we have about 40 minutes until the sun is officially set. Damn, I did better than I thought with setting this up. I can only hope the photographer I hired has set up somewhere and will be able to get pictures. 

“Oh my god, Austin.” Emma says with large eyes filled with surprise at our dinner location.

“Wanted to spoil my girl.” Is the only excuse I offer, hoping it will be enough for now.

“This is beyond stunning! Thank you, baby.” She says as she looks around and begins eating her meal. I had to order for us in advance since we aren’t in an actual restaurant, and I chose filet mignon, seasoned vegetables, small potatoes and bread. I planned to propose after she ate so we talked about how amazing the vacation has been so far, and if there were any excursions she would like to go on. She decided she would like to stay around the resort and get a couple’s massage tomorrow. I’ve never had a professional massage, but am not opposed to the idea especially if Emma is with me.

Before I knew it, the waiter had left to retrieve our dessert and we were both finished eating the main meal. It was time for me to propose. I was nervous as hell but after a large gulp of wine and a deep breath, I began. I reached across the table and took her hand in mine.

“Em, I couldn’t be happier that we took this trip together and even more so that we officially get to go back home together since I somehow sweet-talked you into moving in with me. I know I’m not the best with words, tending to rely more on my actions to show you how I feel but I’m trying to get better about that. You deserve every single day to be told how incredible you are. I want…I wanted to tell you how deeply I love you. I’ve never felt like this before and I truly didn’t think this type of love and connection would exist in my universe. You are an incredible veterinarian and the best mama to Aika and Mills. I know that you will be the most amazing mother to our future kids one day and it makes me so excited about the future. You are the most beautiful, loving, generous, stubborn and funny woman wrapped all into one and I consider myself the luckiest man in the world to have you as mine. That being said, I would love to have you become mine in every way. Would you do me the honor of marrying me, Sugar?” While I was speaking, I moved around the table and got down on my good knee while holding her left hand. I pull the ring box from my pocket and open it up to reveal the ring that I got her.

“Holy crap! Really?” Emma says with wide but tear filled eyes and jumps from her seat.

“Really, Darlin’” I answer with a nervous chuckle.

“Austin, oh my god! YES!” She squeals with a little excited jump as tears pour down her cheeks. I pull the ring from the box but before I can even slide it on her finger, Emma is suddenly on her knees nearly choking me in a tight hug before her lips find mine. She kisses me passionately and I feel the wetness from her tears against my cheek as she kisses me deeply. 

“I love you so much and I can’t wait to marry you.” She says against my lips.

“I love you too, Sugar. Can’t wait for you to be my wife.” I say and I pull back and slide the ring on her finger before wiping her eyes.

Emma holds out her hand to admire the ring. “We can get something else if that isn’t what you had in mind.” I tell her, hoping she’ll be honest with me.

“Oh, Austin, this is more beautiful than I could have imagined! I love it baby.” She says with another kiss before I help her up off of the pier. I smile when the photographer that I hired, Joseph, walks down the pier and introduces himself before congratulating us and asking to take a few more photos before the sun sets. We take several photos before sitting down to eat the dessert brought by our waiter that’s covered in chocolate and drink the champagne that he brought along with it.

All I can think about is the fact that she said yes and was going to become my wife. Emma is smiling from ear to ear and she’s absolutely radiant as she looks down at the ring weighing on her finger.

“How did you know my size?” She asks.

“I took the ring your grandma gave you while you were at work. I know you don’t wear it there since it’s hard to put on with gloves, so I had them measure it at the jeweler.” 

“Brilliant. Thank you for having someone take photos. I can’t wait to see them!”

“Ah, that was a request from your mama and I’m glad she made it because I didn’t think anything about it.”

“You talked to my mom?”

“Of course, and your dad. Had to get their permission and show them the ring.” I tell her and she giggles with a beaming smile.

She wanted to facetime her parents so while we were there, she called them and proudly announced that she said yes and we were getting married. They spoke for only a few minutes with endless congratulations and excitement before she wanted to call my Nana and PawPaw and tell them as well. After that call where we had to practically hang up on my Nana who I imagined was flitting around the room with her excitement, we took a stroll along the moonlit beach hand in hand.

“You’re going to be the most beautiful bride, Sugar.”

“I can’t believe we are getting married! This is everything that I ever wanted and more. You are everything I could have wanted, Austin Daniel Syverson.” She says and kisses me.

“Mmm…” I grunt and she licks into my mouth and presses her body against mine. 

“Fuck, Mrs. Emma Syverson sounds so good.” I tell her and she moans as I kiss near her ear.

“Take me to bed, future husband.”

“My pleasure.” I grunt as I reluctantly peel my body from hers so that we can go back to our room. 

Once we arrived, I’m pleased to see that the staff went above and beyond for us. Filling the large tub with bubble and flowers, champagne chilling on ice, and rose petals carefully arranged across the perfectly made bed to spell out, CONGRATS. Candles have been lit and are placed throughout the room giving it such a romantic feel.

I walk up behind Emma who was admiring the romantic setup and pressed my body against her back.

She quickly turned around and kissed me hungrily.

“I love you so much, Darlin’.” I whisper in her ear as she starts unbuttoning my shirt.

“I love you more, baby.” She says as she pushes the dress shirt from my shoulders.

“Not possible.” I turn her around and find the zipper to her dress and push the straps off of her shoulders to reveal that she was wearing a lacy black bra and matching thong set under that dress. I bite my lip and push away my desire to be rough with her. Tonight, I’m going to make this as romantic as I can. Slow and sensual.

I pick her up and place her gently on her back on the rose covered bed before stripping myself down to my navy boxers. 

“Austin, I need you.” She moans as her hands roam up and down her body in an attempt to ease her need.

“I’m gonna take my time with you tonight, Sugar. Want to show you how much I love you. Gonna make love to you, angel.” I tell her before kissing her deeply. I kiss all over her, removing the strapless bra first on my journey down her body, before removing her panties and spreading her legs to fit my wide shoulders. I kiss along her hip bones before finding my place at the apex of her thighs. Gently sliding my finger across her sensitive skin, I spread her wetness before gently guiding one finger, and then another inside of her before licking, sucking and kissing her folds. Focusing on her clit, I glance up to see the reflection of her engagement ring shining in the candlelight as she reaches up to grasp her breast and I instinctively rut against the mattress. Fuck, this is my fiancé. I’m going to marry this woman falling apart underneath me. I groan against her pussy. Emma moans and gasps soft, ‘oh fuck’ or ‘yes baby, right there!’ as I work to pleasure her. I focus even harder to get her to her climax and before I realize it, Emma is squirting her release across my fingers and chin. I lick and slurp her arousal before gently removing my fingers and caressing her thighs. Emma is positively wrecked above me as she tries to come down from reaching her peak. I use this opportunity to dry my fingers on my boxers which are wet with precum before I slide them off and lean back over Emma to kiss her. 

“You’re so beautiful.” I tell her and she gives me her shy smile.

“Never seen anything more gorgeous than you coming apart for me, Sugar.” I continue before she wraps her arms around my neck.

“Make love to me, Sy.” She tells me as she reaches down between us and guides my cock into her tight wet channel. I groan as I fill her up inch by inch with me. God, she feels so good. Will this ever stop being so amazing? I really don’t think it will.

“Baby, you feel so good.” Emma says as I start to thrust into her. She starts kissing on my neck and moaning in my ear and I swear I’m biting my lip to keep from coming before her. Her legs wrapped tightly around my waist as I intertwine our hands above her head and rut into her.

I continue to thrust into her as we share heated kisses, our tongues dancing against each other and gentle nips at each other’s lips. I gently tug on her nipples and grope her breasts as we find our highs together and I release my seed into her warmth.

I roll over beside her as we are coming down from our orgasms. Every muscle in my body is now fully relaxed since she said yes to my proposal. I was more nervous than I even admitted to myself and now, my body felt almost jello-like as I felt the relief surge through me. I reached down and brought Emma’s hand to my lips as I kissed her engagement ring and she rolled over on top of me.

“Thank you for making all of my dreams come true.” She whispers.

“Thank you for doing the same, Sugar.” I smile at her and kiss her forehead. A few moments later, I can feel us getting sleepy so I pick her up bridal style and place her in the bathtub that was set up for us before following her in. We relax against each other as she sleepily but excitedly recounts her thoughts of the dinner and my proposal and I smile the entire time she talks. Emma is so happy and I feel a surge of pride as though I had successfully made this as romantic as I possibly could have for her.

Emma is asleep against my chest roughly forty-five minutes later and I gently rouse her so that I can dry her off and get her ready for bed. She wants her makeup off so I help her wipe her face with her makeup wipes before we brush our teeth and climb into the pristine bed still covered in rose petals now in disarray.

Emma is wrapped around me like usual with her head against my chest as I gently stroke through the soft curls of her hair.

Thinking she’s already asleep, I admire the ring on her little hand and smile knowing that she’s agreed to forever with me.

“Goodnight, fiancé. I love you.” She whispers and I smile before kissing the top of her head.

“Goodnight, my bride. I love you too.” 

Part 18

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood, @sofiebstar, @wetzilly

A/N:

This is how I felt while writing the proposal! Sorry y'all will have to wait a little bit on the balcony smut, but I wanted to keep this one romantic 🥰❤️ Hope y'all liked it!

#captain syverson #henry cavill characters #captain syverson fic #henry cavill fanfiction #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson smut #henry cavill #captain syverson fluff

[gaysindistress]

Running from the Daylight - two

pairings: pirate!James “The Scourge of the Sea” Barnes x royal governor's daughter!reader 

Summary: based on this request

Warnings: reader uses She/her/hers pronouns and is AFAB, mentions of the female body/parts, cursing, suggestive sexual content, violence and mentions of death, sexual content (p in v), some dark shit (like I can’t tag it without spoiling it but people get freaky over someone who’s bleeding) I'm actually awful at tagging things but there's smut. for the love of all things holy, do not read if you are a minor.

Word count: 3.6k

part one | my master list

Tag list: @talesofreading

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif, found on google/Pinterest/tumblr. Credits to @boltlightning for the gif on the bottom left & @owenhcrper for the gif on the bottom right

Begging, pleading, and sucking him dry did nothing to convince James that I’ve been ready to take his cock since that first night.

He would be a monster and allow me to believe that he would finally take me only to stop right before it went too far. He would give me hollow reasons like “the sea is too rough,” “you are too tired,” “we don’t have a proper bed and I will not take your maiden hood without one.”

Useless excuse after useless excuse was all I received for months on end. A part of me wondered if he was growing bored but when I confessed this to him, he spent the following several hours between my legs. He lapped and sucked at my core until I was crying and shaking but kept pulling climaxes from me until I very nearly passed out.

I tried to tempt him by wearing thin nightdresses or simply nothing at all but it all failed. I even convinced Natasha to play along with a scheme in which James would just so happen to find us in the middle of fucking but nothing. All he did was sit in his captain’s chair and watch with sharp eyes, occasionally telling us what to do.

Months of pent up frustration finally came to head when we docked in New Providence to replenish our supplies. My father had been overjoyed to see me again but his happy mood was as soiled when he observed the way that James and I were.

“My darling please tell me that he has not ruined you,” my father harshly whispers to me as he pulls me aside.

I gasp in disbelief and rip my arm away from him.

“Excuse me! You are not allowed to ask me such a thing!”

“I am your father, Y/N Stark. It is well within my rights to know if my daughter has been abused by a pirate.”

I catch the watchful eye of James as he’s instructing his crew and he gives me a concerned look. I brush it off and look back to my father.

“Your daughter has not been abused,” I sneer as I spot the Commodore approaching us, “I’ve been kept safe and protected.”

Steve makes a face at my words as he stops beside us but my father seems satisfied. He backs away and nods goodbye to us before retreating back to his fortress.

“You may speak freely with me; has the pirate lord abused you?”

“The only abuse to be had is that what my throat endures from taking his cock every night,” I calmly state before also leaving to find my captain. I don’t wait to hear or see Steve’s reaction but I can feel his piercing stare on my back.

“You said you wouldn’t fuck me until we had a proper bed,” I say lowly as I drop myself onto the canopied bed behind me, “and I think this meets that requirement.”

James narrows his bright eyes at me but doesn’t move from his place leaning against the raging fireplace. It’s odd seeing him look…normal? He’s out of place in this world of luxury and refinement but here in the room that I once called my own, he looks like he belongs. A part of me wishes to pretend that our pasts were different and that he had been the man who proposed to me, yearning for me for years. I wish that time had been kind to him and that it hadn’t stolen his heart and soul. I wish that I could’ve been the one he fell in love with all those years ago so he wouldn’t have had to face that curse. I wish we could delight in being together alone in my room at my father’s estate, a situation I would’ve blushed to even think about a few months ago. I wish we could ignore the reality of who we are and wholly engulf ourselves in the opportunity that presents itself.

“I did say that, didn’t I love?” He muses for a moment, allowing his eyes to trail down my barely covered body. I’d found an even thinner and smaller nightdress to wear for tonight, hoping that it might finally be what breaks him.

Maybe my last wish would come true.

He pushes off the mantle and prowls towards me. As he gets closer, my body starts to burn with anticipation and I inch back to accommodate his imposing stature. James knocks my legs apart with his knee and slots between them as he leans over me. Both hands cup my face and my eyes flutter closed at his warm touch. He dips down to whisper in my ear and chuckles when my breath hitches.

“You need sleep my love.”

I let out a snort, “no I do not. What I need is…”

He interrupts me with a gentle peck and mutters against my lips, “I know what you need and that is sleep.”

James presses another kiss to my lips with a subtle roll of his hips into mine while wearing a wicked smirk. I stick my tongue out at him as he pulls away and waits for me to settle into bed. He finds his place in the huge and ugly arm chair that my mother insisted I needed in front of the fireplace. His hat is sat on the small table beside him and his feet are kicked out in front of himself. Crossing his arms over his chest, James settles himself into the chair as if he’s going to sleep there and I frown at him.

“I can feel you thinking, love,” he quips and although I can’t see his face, I know there’s a smirk.

“Is that where you intend to sleep? In my armchair that I know is most certainly the most uncomfortable piece of furniture in this house?”

His shoulder shrugs and he makes a show of making himself comfortable with a loud sigh.

“It’s perfectly comfortable to me, your highness,” the jab at my upbringing doesn’t go unnoticed, not with the way he elongates the word and lowers his voice.

Scoffing, I throw a pillow at him and he chuckles when it flies past, missing him.

“Remind me to work on your aim in the morning,” he teases me before adding that I need to be going to sleep.

“We’re not on your ship anymore so you’re not my captain,” I snipe and that catches his attention. He perks up and goes to say something smart back but the doors fly open, slamming against the poor walls.

James stays seated albeit ready to jump up if needed. Seeing as he’s playing it cool, I do the same and remain tucked into my bed.

The person who dared interrupt our night is none other than the Commodore. He stands at his full height with a scroll in his hand as he glares at James.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of being granted your presence so late at night, commodore?” James mocks as he watches Steve.

The wigged man says nothing but sends a death glare towards the pirate before looking at me. He takes a step towards me and James makes a clicking noise, telling him to stay put.

“Y/N,” Steve starts as he ignores the subtle warning, “your father has found a way to free you from your deal with this vile creature.”

I glance around him at James who’s smirking to himself and raises one dark brow at me. He’s no longer stretched out like a cat but instead is leaning back against the chair with his head resting on his fist as he watches us.

Turning my attention back to Steve, I ask him to elaborate and elaborate he does.

“You were under duress. You cannot be expected to uphold a deal that you made when you were in fear for your life. Your father and I handled everything, Y/N, all you need to do is say that you were afraid for your life and otherwise would not have made the deal.”

In another life the gut wrenching way that Steve is pleading with me would’ve worked. I would’ve jumped up and ran for him, falling into his arms as I sobbed that I was afraid. I would’ve taken his hand and begged him to save me for the sake of being free from a pirate even if it meant being in debt to him for life.

That is if I hadn’t met James; the man who’s shown my unconditional and undying affection. The man that has sworn to protect me and honor me as if I were his ruling goddess. The man that has seen parts of me that no other man has and the man that I want to know every inch of me, mental and physical.

“Steve, ever the gentleman,” I coo as I push the blankets from my lap and slide off my bed.

“There is but one fault in your proposal,” I state as I softly pad toward the two men, “I was not under duress. I was not afraid for my life by any stretch of the imagination. I was not afraid at all, in fact, I felt the safest I had in years in that moment.”

I can feel the heat of James’ stare on me as I come to stand beside him and continue to tear Steve apart.

“If anything, I was concerned for your life but not afraid. I knew that James would not harm or otherwise act in a way that would scare me. I knew that he would agree to my terms but you,” I point at him and allow my voice to become more harsh, “you were the one I was afraid of. You’ve always been a liability, never quite knowing when you’re going to lash out on those around you. You’ve always freighted me and that night at the bar only solidified my fears that you would cause me harm. Even if my life depended on it, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you or went back with you that day on the Serpent’s Cry. Quite frankly, Steve, I’m perfectly content being bound to this vile creature.”

James snorts from behind me and wraps an arm around me, tugging me to sit on his lap. Steve is fuming, his face turning red with anger at my lecture and I know he’s plotting both of our demises.

The man beneath me grips my chin and tilts my head down so that he can capture my lips in a heated kiss. My hands fly to tangle into his hair as his tongue swipes at my bottom lip. A moan tumbles from me when the hand gripping my chin slides to cup the back of neck.

“Enough!” Steve’s voice rings out and he storms towards us to rip me away.

The familiar cock of a gun halts him and he frantically looks down to see a readied pistol pointing at him. It had been lying under James’ hat, hidden from plain sight so Steve had no chance to draw his open weapon.

James has the audacity to look bored as he holds the weapon and rubs small circles into my hip with his other hand.

“Out,” he orders in a low rumbling voice.

Steve, however, the oaf of a man takes another step forward and James rolls his eyes.

“Is pain the only way you learn, Commodore? Out before I shoot your cock off.”

Steve scoffs at the crude words and I stifle a giggle while tucking my face into James’ neck. He shudders slightly at the feeling and squeezes my hip.

“Y/N,” Steve tries to appeal to me but I’m not having any of it. I begin to plant wet kisses on James’ neck and nip at the soft skin occasionally. Steve calls to me again and I suck a deep red, nearly purple mark into the pirate’s neck which earns me a throaty groan.

A series of sounds ring out and I jolt away from my haven. First is the sound of Steve stepping forward, a gun shot, a cry of pain, and a thud as Steve falls to the ground. With wide eyes I try to look at him but James catches my face in a tight hold, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Don't look at him, love. Eyes on me, understood?” He whispers, letting his lips dance over mine and holding my eye contact with a fierce look swirling in his blue eyes.

I manage a small nod and he smiles at me before addressing Steve who’s clutching his leg.

“I warned you and you did not listen. As far as I’m concerned, you are to blame for the state of your leg. Now I suggest you drag your cowardly self out of this room before I do depart your cock from your body as I promised."

Lost in the way his eyes captive me and his words cause a fire to ignite in my body, I don’t hear Steve’s protests that break through the cries of pain. It’s not until James breaks our trance and rolls his eyes that I realize our situation. I still obey James and don’t look by hiding my face in his neck once again. He coos to me to go to my bed and turn away from them as he helps me stand.

“Keep your eyes on the ground for me,” he tells me when my hand slips from his and I cautiously make my way to my bed.

From behind me, I hear James let out an exaggerated sigh and the crackling of leather from him bending down.

“You’ve shot my leg, how am I to be expected to leave?” Steve hisses through the agonizing pain.

“Drag yourself like the worm you are. It's none of my concern how you choose to obey my command."

“I will not leave her alone with such a demonic savage like yourself.”

There’s a pause, a tension filled pause as I assume James debates what to do. However his next words are not exactly what I was expecting.

“Pain doesn't seem to be a strong enough deterrent for you, Commodore. Remember; you are to blame for your current situation,” he huffs as he yanks Steve up and drops him into the chair we’d been sitting in.

“Love hand me the sheet,” he says to me without looking.

I quickly bundle up the item he’s asking for and toss it to him. I want to ask what he’s planning but it becomes clear when he starts to wrap it around Steve.

“Since you refuse to leave her alone with such a demonic savage, as you put it so beautifully, you’ll have to watch her damnation.”

Steve lets out a roar of protest and it met with a pistol pressed under his jaw.

“You were told to leave and you did not. Seeing her defiled and ravished as she deserves is a fitting punishment. I think this is preferable to death but I am not the true judge. Love?”

The nickname catches me off guard and my eyes dart between them but it’s the stormy eyes of James that are given my full attention.

“What do you think? Should I grant him mercy and kill him before you take my cock? Or should he watch as I take what he's desired for years?"

As I fail to answer, James adds, "I will only do this if this is what you want. If not, I’m more than happy to show him just how acquainted with the devil I am.”

Words escape me and I just nod.

Apparently that’s not good enough.

“Use your words love. Tell us what you want.”

“I…fuck,” I mumble under my breath and James’ smirk spreads across his face. He knows that I want this, that I want nothing more than for him to finally take me even if it means Steve is forced to watch.

“I don’t think the Commodore heard you. Louder.”

“Yes. I want this. I want you. I want you to take me.”

James cocks a brow at Steve with a sinister smirk, “it appears that your pure angel wants me to defile her while you watch.”

The tied up man jerks forward with a threat on his lips and james lets out a terrifying laugh. He ignores the protests and calls me over with the hook of his finger. My body is trembling as I let my feet touch the ground and nearly stumble as I try to walk. Steve must think it’s out of fear but my captain knows it’s due to anticipation.

I stop at his side and James draws away from the injured man to wrap an arm around me. Pulling me in front of him, my back is to his chest and I’m facing Steve. James keeps his gun pointed at him while bending his head to my ear and whispering to me.

“You tell me when you want to stop, understood?“ he tells me in a voice so low I almost don’t hear him. When I don’t acknowledge his statement, he squeezes my hip with his free hand and repeats it.

Breathlessly I agree, “Yes, please James. I need you.”

He nudges my legs apart and drifts his hand from my hip to my core, pulling up my night dress in the process. My head lolls back, falling onto his shoulder and he captures my lips in a searing kiss. Moans and sighs fall without hesitation as he begins to run firm but slow circles into the bundle of nerves that only he can seem to find. His name becomes a chorus that is caught between our lips as the pressure builds within my core. He releases my lips and lets me sing my song for Steve to hear clearly. I feel him smile against my temple as I grow louder and louder. Just as I’m about reach my climax, he pulls his hand away and I nearly cry. A few tears leak from my eyes and he coos sweetly to me.

“Shhhhh love, I promised to defile you and I intend to do that. Lean forward and put your hands on his shoulders.”

“James,” I whimper when I feel him back away.

“Do as you’re told.”

The sounds of his belt and pants dropping silences me. I lean forward and with hazy eyes, look Steve straight on as my hands grip his shoulders. There’s a fire burning in his light eyes and I’ve come to know what it truly is. He can try to deny it but we all know watching me is causing him to grow hard and angry.

“Y/N,” his voice breaks as he whispers my name and I blink hard trying to look at him.

The heavy heat of James behind me distracts me and I drop my head at the feeling of him rutting against me.

He taunts Steve with cruel words as he drags the head of his cock through my folds and pulls wanton moans from my swollen lips.

“James,” I plead, “please.”

He coos mockingly as he lines himself up.

“Louder, my love. I don’t think your fiancé heard you.”

“He’s not my fiancé,” I grit out angrily but it falls flat when he pushes his entire length inside of me. It turns into a wince and pained moan but he doesn’t pull out. He keeps it there, watching me struggle with the pain that morphs into blinding pleasure. Only when I push back against him does he withdraws a few inches but keeps most of his length inside me as he starts to rock his hips into me. He’s slow and deliberate at first, focusing on pulling the loudest and most embarrassing moans he can from me but as his own body betrays him, his hips increase their pace.

Below me Steve is a mess. His breathing is ragged and the color is draining from his face as the blood loss becomes too much. I can’t bare to look at him and James must see that in the way I keep my head bent down. A sharp tug on my hair forces my head up and I see the devastation written lines on his face. The cold barrel on a gun rubs against my scalp and it dawns on me that the hand that’s in my hair is holding the gun. He grunts as he pumps his dick into me and I cry out as pleasure washes over me. He keeps one hand coiled into my hair as the other slips to my core, rubbing me and drawing my climax from me.

James tugs me up against his chest and I tilt my head back to rest against his shoulder as we continue to move against each other. His cock drags against my walls in a nearly painful way but I don't care. I’m pulsing around him and pleading with him to let go with me. As my eyes flutter shut from the white hot pleasure, he tugs my hair again and demands I look at Steve.

“Look at the Commodore, love. Look at what just watching you does to him,” he mumbles against the skin of my neck. My eyes are heavy and it’s a struggle to do as I’m told but I do and it earns me my climax.

James thrusts up hard one final time and we’re both moaning as I finish. He’s not far behind and groans out my name as he releases his hot seed into me. We’re a panting mess as he slows and eventually stops. He loosens his grip on my hair with a sweet kiss to my temple and whispers praise into my ear.

Intertwined in those sweet phrases is a promise and at first I think it’s for me. Only when the second shot of the night rings out do I realize that it was intended for Steve.

“I hope for your sake that your false god takes pity on you and allows you to die before morning.”

With that he tucks himself back into his pants and lifts me into his arms. My final memory of commodore will be blurred in pleasure and blood but I don’t care. He can bleed out for all I care after he dared to lay a hand on me and insult the man I love.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #running from the daylight bucky #pirate bucky x y/n #pirate bucky x you #pirate bucky imagine #pirate bucky x reader #pirate au #bucky smut #pirate Bucky smut #smut #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut

[mirai-e-jump]

TV Guide Dan Vol.51, April 2024 Issue ft. Sakai Taisei x Higuchi Kouhei Interview (translations below)

Publication: April 5, 2024

UNIQUE

"Could you please introduce the role the other plays in the V-Cinext films King-Ohger VS Donbrothers and King-Ohger VS Kyoryuger?"

Higuchi: Gira Husty, played by Taisei, is a character that has the right characteristics of being a so called main character, and I thought he was a completely different Red from the one in Donbrothers. The atmosphere Gira created was one you couldn't find in Donbrothers.

Sakai: Gira and Higuchi-kun's role of Momoi Tarou are the exact opposite in terms of character design. Tarou is an absolute ruler who brings everyone together, which is different from King-Ohger, where everyone has their own individuality but are still able to keep up with each other. In a way, I also feel "jealous."

Higuchi: Still, I think all Super Sentai members feel "jealous." The Producers and Scriptwriters give other Sentai "colors" we don't have, so it's only natural for us to think, "I like those colors."

Sakai: That's why the history of Super Sentai continues, and the fans enjoy it every year. I definitely wanted a "color" I don't have. That's why I'm happy to have the opportunity to be involved with other Super Sentai members like this!

"What were your impressions of each other before you met? Did your impressions change after meeting?"

Sakai: At first, I thought he was a cool guy, but on set, all the two of us would do was talk!

Higuchi: I felt the same way, and thought Taisei was a quiet guy (laughs). Actually, that wasn't the case at all, as I was surprised and happy to find that we were compatible when we talked in the dressing room. During this shoot, even though I had my own dressing room, I would go to Taisei's dressing room instead.

Sakai: I thought Kouhei was cool and manly, and my impression of his manliness is probably the same as it was before we met. We're similar in that we both get carried away.

"How would you describe your relationship?"

Higuchi: This is just my opinion, but in the context of our relationship in Super Sentai, I'm his senior Red, but in terms of our age, I'm his junior. In my case, regardless of age, as long as there's mutual respect, I want our relationship to be that we're like friends. That's why I unconsciously treated Taisei like he was already my friend. I'm sorry!

Sakai: It was also easier to say things like, "Let's go out to eat." I'm the same as Kouhei, I think it's easier that way. It makes me happier if you come to me without hesitation, rather than be cautious because I'm older than you, I think it makes it easier to talk about the performance and acting.

"Have you seen each other's shows, King-Ohger and Donbrothers? Please tell us about any episodes that were most memorable for you."

Higuchi: I remember very well when the first episode of King-Ohger aired while we were performing at Theatre G-Rosso. We saw it on the TV backstage at G-Rosso, and everyone was envious of it, saying, "It's really cool!" (laughs). I still love the first episode.

Sakai: For me it has to be the final episode, I thought it was really great that it ended with the very memorable, "We've formed a bond." I thought it was nice that it started and ended with those words. It's also easy to use at things like events! It's hard to find a place to say, "I'm going to rule the world!" (laughs). I like the fact that the first episode established the bond, and while the ending came, it was also a beginning.

"Were there any challenging or fun parts during filming?"

Higuchi: Speaking of challenges, the filming location was at the King-Ohger's studio, and it was my first time using a green screen that covered all sides. So, on my first day in the studio, I was surprised and thought to myself, "How do we do this?!" Once you get a feel for it though, you get used to it.

Sakai: Donbrothers was shot entirely on location. On the other hand, we had the pleasure of filming on a set. As for difficult scenes, Kouhei seemed to have a hard time in the scene where Gira choked on some mochi. It's because he had to put his hand firmly in my mouth (laughs).

Higuchi: It was harder for Taisei, wasn't it?! Wouldn't it have been easier to simply put it in? If it were the other way around, I think I would've felt awkward afterwards (laughs).

"What did you feel after watching each other's performance?"

Higuchi: I thought Taisei always took his acting seriously. Also, his eyes are incredibly pretty and distinct. I think he's got alot of strong points.

Sakai: I thought Kouhei was a stoic person in his performance. He spent alot of time thinking on his own, doing things like sorting out his emotions abit before the cameras started rolling. Even after he was given the OK, he studied things from the side the moment after and thought, "I could've done this better," so I respect that stoicism.

"Please tell us some of the highlights this time."

Sakai: They're both Super Sentai with tons of personality that rival each other for first and second place of this generation, so I think it'll be a highlight to see how they'll unite and how the story will progress. Also, this time, both Reds are characters that laugh out loud. Within the battle scene is a scene where the two of us are laughing loudly, and it was pretty difficult to film, so I want you to see it. It was a long scene, about 30 seconds, and we were laughing the whole time (laughs).

Higuchi: It's as if two Super Sentai were combined to form a new Sentai, and I think this is a movie where each member has their own highlights. Also, the King-Ohger's costumes are really cool, so it's worth seeing. Among us, Jiro, the Noto, and Inuzuka's costumes might be as good as the Kings. The other four are in ordinary clothing (laughs).

"You both have experience playing soccer, and you kicked a ball around during the photoshoot, so what are your thoughts on each other's skills?"

Sakai: I think this is probably common in soccer clubs, but I can tell just from the ball rolling alittle bit if someone is "good."

Higuchi: I get that! The moment someone kicks a ball and stops it with their foot, an experienced player can tell that, "This guy's good." However, I'm sure this is a feeling that baseball and basketball teams also have.

"Did you talk about soccer during filming?"

Higuchi: If I'm remembering right, after filming finished for Donbrothers and King-Ohger was about to start, Taisei said to me, "You used to play soccer, didn't you? Let's play futsal!"

Sakai: Right, I just thought since you had experience playing soccer. Futsal is fun, so I'd love to do it again!

"This issue also features Iuchi Haruhi-kun and Hayama Yuki-kun from the currently airing Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger. As their seniors in the Super Sentai series, please give them a message."

Higuchi: The quality of Super Sentai is really different each generation, but I think the one thing they all have in common is that they're "very challenging." That's why, when it comes to acting, I can never say, "It's better like this." The only thing I can think of to say is, "Please have fun in Oizumigakuen, where the filming studio is located." I enjoyed it tremendously (laughs).

Sakai: Right! Depending on whether or not you have fun in Oizumigakuen and at the filming studio, the story could change. The more favorite places and stores you have, the better, and you can go out to eat with ease. As Kouhei said, it's challenging to film every day, so I think it's good to find a place you can "rely on." It'd be nice if after enjoying Oizumigakuen, you go to a different site for another job and end up thinking, "I want to come back here someday."

"And finally, when speaking of Donbrothers, oden may come to mind, so please tell us what both of your favorite ingredients are."

Higuchi: Chikuwa!

Sakai: I love eggs, and I also love daikon radishes!

Higuchi: In the end, which one's the very best?! (laughs).

#mr. wahaha and nyahaha #ohsama sentai kingohger #kingohger #avataro sentai donbrothers #donbrothers #super sentai #tv guide dan #gira husty #momoi tarou #sakai taisei #taisei sakai #higuchi kouhei #my scans #my translation #toku cast #super sentai cast #tokusatsu #ohsama sentai king ohger #king ohger #donbros #I think for the color part #they're referring to character/personality #unless they're really talking about suit color

[vividwritinglove]

gray sweatpants - Pierre Gasly

I don’t know why but I kind of have the feeling it’s the magic of this campaign that makes me want to write so much at the moment 🔥 and according to that, gray sweatpants are next to a suit the most sexiest thing a man (especially this one) could wear!

warnings: smut (minors dni)

word count: 1.3k

~

The 2022 Formula 1 season has been over for a week now and after a short vacation in Abu Dhabi, you are finally back home in Milan. For Pierre, however, the work is far from over, his move to Alpine is in full swing and in addition to his training camp for the new season, many more appointments with the new racing team are pending. Because of your work, you won't be able to accompany Pierre often, so every moment you can spend together is sacred for you. However, this is disturbed with the constant work calls that Pierre is receiving.

The first call woke you up shortly after 7 a.m. No morning cuddles. You also did the morning jog alone and brought breakfast from his favorite bakery on the way back home. As you enter the apartment you hear the shower running and you decide to prepare breakfast for both of you. Besides the things from the bakery, you had also stopped at a kiosk to get some magazines to improve your Italian. The table was set, you were sitting in front of your porridge bowl and flipping through a magazine as Pierre left the bathroom in just his gray sweatpants. You look up briefly and the spoon almost falls out of your hand.

Those gray sweatpants are your kryptonite. And he knows it! They hang loose and low around his hips, the waistband of his boxers and his V-line quite visible. Although he has no erection, his cock stands out clearly. His hair still wet and some strains of hair were stuck to his forehead. His skin was noticeably tanned again from the Abu Dhabi sun and defined his muscles at a different level. His body hair had lightened a bit.

Again he had the cell phone to his ear and discussed something in French with the caller. He tapped barefoot into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, which you had already prepared for him. Your magazine was long forgotten. Thinking of your hot boyfriend and his incredible upper body, you nibble on your spoon with your lips and suck on it from time to time. Pierre doesn't pay any attention to you, at least you think that, because he doesn't look at you and continues to talk on the phone. You continue to languish shamelessly at him. Pierre keeps stroking his own chest and you wish your hands would touch his incredible body. Pierre turns away from you and now you can admire his wonderful back. You love his broad and muscular shoulders, his bull neck and the strong lower back muscles. Still visible from last night, some streaks from your nails on his shoulder blades, as he fucked you without restraint. Not to mention his well-shaped butt, which looks perfect in those gray sweatpants.

Pierre ends the call and now looks at you. Hands propped on the countertop so his arm muscles are tense.

"You have to stop looking at me like this when I'm having important calls," he admonishes you, looking at you seriously. You feel caught and put your spoon down on the table. Pierre's expression changes immediately and he grins cheekily at you. He could never be angry with you, especially not when it comes to the most beautiful triviality in the world.

"Come here." he asks you gently, holding out his hand and you listen to his word. You are crazy about him and would do anything for him.

As soon as you stand in front of him, he pulls you into a tight embrace and lets his big hands roam over your back, down to your butt. He loves it when you put on tight yoga pants, your butt always looks fantastic in them. His hands are now kneading your butt cheeks and your arms are wrapped around his neck. Your foreheads are leaning against each other and your noses are touching.

"I have to leave in two days already." he sighs softly. You had hoped to spend a little more time with him, however you were aware that you would not have an ordinary relationship with him. You knew that you would have a long distance relationship. But your time together is incomparable and makes up for any separation.

Pierre's hands grip tightly into your butt cheeks once again and the next moment he lifts you onto the countertop. Your legs wrap around his middle, pulling him even closer to you. You feel his semi-hard cock through the fabrics on your now wet core.

"What's our sex high score in a day again?" he asks against your lips, then kisses you.

"Probably 5..." you say inbetween kisses, "Maybe 6."

"Hmmh, I think we can top that." he grins into the next kiss.

"Then we shouldn't waste time." you agree with him, opening and taking off your track jacket. Pierre's hands literally fly to your sports bra and massage your tits through the elastic fabric.

Your hands wander from his neck into his hair. By now it was half dry and it was getting a little curly. You love it when his hair is wild and untamed. Pierre's hands are on another foray and find themselves at your waistband. Quickly you prop yourself up on the countertop with your arms so that Pierre pulls down both your tight gym pants and your thong in one go, tossing both carelessly behind him. You spread your legs and present yourself to him shamelessly. Pierre licks his lips. You naked, in his kitchen is an image that he would keep in his mind forever. Pierre also eagerly pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, both landing in a puddle of fabric around his ankles. You slide even closer to the edge of the countertop. Pierre immediately seizes this opportunity and grabs his cock to slide it through your already glistening folds.

"Ouh, already so wet for me." Pierre murmurs and lets his tip roam around your clit. You lay your head back in your neck moaning.

"Do you want to talk or fuck?" you mumble a bit annoyed and start to get impatient.

Pierre has to grin, he loves your unfiltered and direct way. He positions his cock at your hole and thrusts into you bluntly.

You moan and bury your face in the crook of his neck. His hands wrap around your waist to keep his pace even. You want to feel him even deeper inside you and your legs only wrap tighter around his middle.

"Fuck Pierre!" you almost cry out, because by now he's pounding into you recklessly. His pace is getting faster and you know he's about to cum.

You firmly suck the skin on the crook of his neck into your mouth. This will leave a thick hickey and you like the thought of having him marked by you for everyone to see. You were both a few thrusts away from climaxing and as the sweet relief washes over both of you, you linger in the tightly entwined position a little longer.

"You didn't seriously give me a hickey." grumbles Pierre against your collarbone, as he leans his head exhaustedly against your shoulder.

"Oops, sorry..." you say with a grin, and not being sorry at all.

"Cherie, I have photo shoots with the new team. It won't be gone by then..."

"Oh, it’s not that bad." you try to brush off his concerns and examine your artwork. The hickey is more severe than expected, even imprints of your teeth can be seen and your look speaks volumes.

Pierre rolls his eyes and shakes his head, "First the nails and now this..."

"Don't act like you're not into it." you purr as you hop off the countertop and reach for your underwear. As you bend over for it, Pierre gives you a hard slap on your bare ass.

"Such a naughty Madame." he grins.

"The only thing to blame is that gray sweatpants..."

"Thank God for those fucking gray sweatpants!" he mutters as he slips the said pants back over his butt.

#pierre gasly #pg10 #pierre gasly one shot #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly x reader #f1 smut #pierre gasly imagine #f1 x reader

[farfromstrange]

Lizzi's Kinktober 2023

Day 15: Mask Kink

October 30th, 2023

Main Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt really loves to eat you out.

Warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT (18+ MINORS DNI), black suit Matt supremacy, Dom!Matt, mask kink, unprotected p in v, fingering, orgasm denial, slight spanking, bondage (use of ropes), use of "good girl", praise, not proofread

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/n: This is dedicated to @sunaspotato because her mask kink made my mask kink worse. And since she’s on this hellsite too now and wanted to read this, here you go. (Also, I hope you can still look me in the eyes after this. If not, I sincerely apologize. It’s different when one of the people reading this is someone I know irl so I hope I didn’t disappoint with this.)

The air coming in through the half-open bedroom window brushes coldly against your heated skin. 

You never thought you would end up in this position. So… vulnerable. Hunted like prey. It was never your intention. And yet, here you are now. Your wrists are tied to the bedpost with a harsh, greyish rope that isn’t yours, your sheer nightgown torn to shreds and discarded somewhere in the room. 

You’re helpless. Hopeless, also. Your friends have told you time and time again that you trust too easily, and maybe that is true. You can be colorblind to the existence of red flags. When you look danger in the eyes, you tend to gravitate toward it and not away, which has put you in trouble more times than you can count. You have shit judgment, to say the least, so it should come as no surprise that you are in this position. 

He has walked you home before. A few nights ago, a man tried to mug you after you missed the last bus of the night on your way home from work, and even though you cooperated, you had a bad feeling you weren’t going to make it out of this alive. He was about to steal all the money you had left in your purse, your phone, and everything else dear to you. 

Out of nowhere though, a dark figure emerged. He wore a mask made out of some sort of used fabric, a little white peeking through where it kept his eyes hidden from the world. His lips caught your attention right away. They were curled up into a smirk. He looked as if he had no emotions left in him, he only saw red where you saw none, and he beat the man trying to steal from you to a bloody pulp right at your feet. 

You should have been terrified, but the fear turned into a quick thrill, and it made you more careless than it made you careful. 

“You shouldn’t be out here on your own,” he said to you. 

Foolish of him to think he could tell you what to do, but he was right. He shouldn’t have been out there on your own. 

Next thing you knew, he offered to walk you home. Him on the rooftops of the city, you below. And you felt safer. You agreed; you talked to him, and you let the danger right into your life. 

From the second you first laid your wide eyes on the stranger, there has been something so forbiddingly arousing about the image in your head. His plump lips, his tongue, his sharp jawline, and the chiseled chest that he keeps hidden away underneath a tight, black shirt. Not to mention his thighs and the ass he is definitely not hiding in those pants.

It is so arousing, you have not uttered a word about it to anyone. If you told anyone the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen saved your life and belongings a few nights ago and has walked you home from work every night since then, they would surely call you crazy. Perhaps you are, but you have no shame about it. You are ashamed that he does something to your neglected soul, something a stranger in a mask should not do, but you are not ashamed that you haven’t told him off. Maybe you should be, but you can’t possibly find an ounce in your that cares. 

Even though it wasn’t planned and it took you off guard, you let him in when he knocked on your windows tonight, begging you to stitch him up. His panting and the way he groaned whenever the needle threaded through his skin didn’t help with this strange attraction you have been harboring. 

He noticed. You’re not sure how, but he noticed that you were getting turned on by his presence, and it was only a question of time until he would snap. In the end, he did about half an hour into your putting bandages on his battle scars. 

Now you’re tied to the bed, naked and vulnerable to the man in the mask at the foot of your bed, but your heart is not beating out of your chest out of fear. It’s the pulse between your legs that is the most prominent, and the danger only sends the pleasure you’re experiencing to new pinnacles. 

He isn’t going to show you his face, he told you as much. Lucky for you, you do not want or need him to. The thought of getting fucked by a man you have no idea what he looks like is as arousing as it is exciting. The mask on his face only enhances the feeling of being completely exposed to the prying eyes of danger, and you don’t want to miss this feeling again for the world. If that makes you perverted or mentally deranged, you don’t have a problem with that. You’ve been told that your delusions will be the death of you one day, so maybe it’s time to live your truth. 

The man paces around your bed. Eventually, he opens those plump lips again. He asks, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

“What I’m doing to you?” you question, your voice barely above a broken whisper. He’s got you right where he wants you. 

“You’re supposed to be scared of me.”

You want to sit up, but the ropes keep you locked in place. 

“You were supposed to run away,” he says. “But you didn’t.”

“I don’t scare easily,” you tell him. 

He chuckles. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Why he sounds so bitter all of a sudden, you’re not sure. 

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m not scared of you,” you say, a lot surer this time. 

The stranger bares his teeth for a moment, then closes his mouth again. God, those lips. He hasn’t even kissed you yet, and somehow you already miss him. 

“I can smell you, you know. I can smell how fucking wet you are for me. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to control myself when you’re so wet?” he says. It’s a rhetorical question. “You want me to fuck you so badly, and you don’t even know me.”

You blush beet red. You’re not sure how he can smell that you’re wet, even with your thighs clenched so tightly together. There are a lot of things you ask yourself, and for a second you wonder if you made a mistake, but if he knows that you are desperate to be touched by him, there is no chance in hell you will be able to lie your way out of this. 

You want this. You want him. And there is no denying the obvious; he wants you, too. 

His cock is straining against his pants. He is packed, you can tell. You wish you could see him, even just a small glimpse of skin, but he keeps himself hidden away. That’s how it’s going to be. He’s not going to give himself away, and you’re not going to protest, no matter how wrong this may be. 

You want him to fuck you, and he wants to fuck you. There is only one way this is going to end.

The bed creaks. His gloved hand meets your bare thigh, and you shudder. Your mouth falls open. The rough texture hiding his fingertips rubs against the sensitive hairs on your body. It makes your toes curl. 

“Don’t move away from me,” his mouth is suddenly so close to your ear. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you choke out. He has a chokehold on your lungs and the oxygen that is supposed to pass through them. 

His teeth show when he chuckles this time. It’s a breathless chuckle that sends even more shivers down your spine until you can’t feel anything but him. His breath, his hand, his body—you are completely consumed by him. 

“Matthew,” he whispers in your ear. “My name’s Matthew.”

He told you his name. Does he trust you enough not to ask questions? Not that you have it in you to do so, but it throws you off for a moment. 

He told you his name. The masked stranger who refuses to even take his gloves off told you his name. Your mind reels. You’re interpreting too much into this, but how can you not? You are completely infatuated. 

You’re infatuated with the devil. 

The heavy leather of his gloves thuds to the ground next to the bed. When his bare fingers touch you, you’re almost halfway on your way to heaven. 

You let out a soft moan that sends the heat to your cheeks. Your heartbeat pulsates in your ear. You can hear your blood rushing. Can he hear it too?

“Tell me it’s okay.”

You blink at his demand. 

“Tell me it’s okay to touch you,” he says. “I need to hear you say it.”

The words elude you for a moment. “I–” You swallow as you look at his covered face. “Yes,” the consent rolls off your lips softly but surely. “I want you to…touch me.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. This is the most human you have seen him. “Thank you,” he says. 

You open your mouth again to respond, to tell him that he has nothing to thank you for, but he shuts you up by thrusting two of his thick fingers into your tight cunt all at once. 

Your words turn into a loud moan that bounces off your apartment walls. You struggle against the restraints, wanting to wrap around his wrist, but you have nowhere to go. Your walls clench around the intrusion, but he pushes through, his fingertips brushing over that one sweet spot that has you seeing stars within seconds. And once he has found that spot, there is no going back. 

The lewdest cacophony of wetness and heady moans turns into a crescendo. He is playing your keys so delicately, your entire body locks up. The wave keeps on building until it has turned into the size of a tsunami, ready to destroy whatever is in its path. 

He moves his digits in and out of you, brushing against that spot every time he thrusts back in, and he pushes even deeper until he’s filled you up completely to the brim. He reaches parts of you that you never knew existed, and he does it over and over and over again until there is not much more you can take. 

His free hand grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to meet the darkness of his mask. Somehow, that makes your walls clench ever harder around him. He smirks. Oh, that shit-eating smirk is going to be the death of you, you’re sure. At the same time though, you want to wipe it off his face. 

“Look at me,” he says. 

You have no choice but to comply, as ironic as it sounds. 

“Good girl.”

The subtle praise makes your nails draw blood from your palms, the robe rubbing against the sensitive skin of your wrists and probably doing just the same. You’re going to be bloody and bruised tomorrow. You’re going to carry his marks.

You’re his now. 

“Are you gonna come?” his breath tickles your ear. 

All you can muster is a weak nod. 

“Good,” he says. “Don’t.”

You must have misheard him. “What?!” you stammer. “But–”

“No.” 

Fucking with danger is as hot as it is frustrating, it seems. 

His fingers pull out of you suddenly, roughly—you are left with a gaping emptiness that makes your thighs clench, and your throat emits a whine that you are not used to hearing from yourself. 

“Please,” you beg. You never beg. Not like this. “Please, Matthew, I… I’m sorry.”

What are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything wrong. But he makes you feel like you did. He makes you feel like you deserve to feel so pathetic, and that he owns your orgasms. 

He owns you. 

Well, shit. 

The ropes around your wrists disappear for a moment. A moment of mercy, you think, but he is quick to flip you onto your stomach. The bed creaks again. You catch a glimpse of his smirk again. His mask. His body. His cock. It looks like he touched himself while he fingered you, his cock pink and weeping as it stands tall against his stomach. You want to reach out and touch it, a rare beauty, a rare sight, but once again, you are disappointed. 

He flips you over, and he ties your hands back to the headboard. You’re once again trapped. 

A series of cries, “Please, please, please!” Passes your lips. You kick your feet, you say his name, and you moan when his lips travel down your exposed back. You would do anything for more, and you try to, but he won’t let up. 

This is what you get for making foolish choices. 

“Patience, sweetheart,” he rasps. His hand collides with your backside, and you cry out. The pain turns into the sweetest pleasure, making your clit throb in need. You can’t withstand him. “I’m far from done with you. You asked for this, remember?”

The way he says it sends shivers down your spine.

When his thick cock penetrates your tight walls, forcing your legs to stay together as he pushes his way forward, you surrender. Your jaw slacks in a needy moan. He’s got you wrapped around his finger and his cock, and the feelings he elicits in you are so inhuman, you get addicted. He’s a drug. He’s dangerous. 

But danger has never looked so fucking good before. 

Besides, you brought this upon yourself when you let him into your bed. When you asked him to fuck you like no one has ever fucked you before. When you gave him consent to touch you. And when you let him take you like this, you surrendered yourself to him all over again. All of you. Your mind, body, and soul. You gave it all to him. You’re his now. 

His. His. His. It keeps repeating in your mind as he pounds into you, and God, it is good. It is so good, you lose yourself, and you never want to go back. 

The stranger in the mask is what you need. He is all you will ever need. 

You asked for this. 

You made a deal with the devil and now you have to pay your dues. 

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @ravenclaw617 @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch

Also tagging: @blackshadowswriter @1988-fiend

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #black suit supremacy #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #lizzi writes #charlie cox

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Comfortable With You (Inexperienced!Painter!Choso x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

"I feel so comfortable with you."

Pairing: Choso x Black!Fem!Reader (Established Relationship)

Synopsis: Choso has never been anyone like you before: so confident and sure of yourself yet so sweet and compassionate. He can’t stop thinking about you. So to make this Valentine’s Day one you’ll never forget, he’ll show you just how comfortable he is with you and how desperately he wants to make you feel the same…even though you’re his first everything. [Based on the song “Comfortable” by H.E.R.]

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Inexperienced!Choso; Experienced!Reader; First Time PIV Sex; msub Switch!Choso; FDom Switch!Reader; First Time Blowjob; First Time Eating Pussy; Deepthroating; Facefucking; Girl on Top/Cowgirl; Fucking From the Bottom; Creampie; After Sex Snuggles

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Something romantic & nasty for my baby Choso & for V-Day. Happy Valentine's Day, y'all!! 🥰🥰❤️❤️ -Jazz

**********

Choso has never met anyone like you before. 

You’re just so confident in the way you speak; the way you move; the way you carry yourself. You know exactly who you are and you aren’t going to let anyone tell you differently. You’re so sure of yourself, something he has never been about himself. You’ve inspired him to be more like you, gently encouraging him just because of who you are. 

And you’re so sweet. So compassionate. You care so much about others, even a stray cat that happens across your apartment whom you feed every day. You understand Choso and all of his quirks which he more than appreciates. And you’re so damn beautiful. Even now, months after meeting and going on your first date, months after your first kiss, he still can’t even over how breathtaking you are. From your glowing skin to your pretty, brown eyes to your luscious body he can’t get out of his mind. 

He still can’t understand for the life of him why you would want him. He isn’t like his younger twin brothers. Yuji is more of a golden retriever out of the three of them with how bubbly and adorably clueless he is, but he’s also excellent at sports and loves to have fun which any girl loves. And then there is Sukuna who is all tattoos, piercings, and a bad attitude that gets panties wet. He can sweet-talk any girl into his bed. 

And then there’s Choso. Although older than his twin brothers, he is the awkward one. The shy one. The artsy one. He is the one you’ll usually find with his nose stuck in his guitar or up painting in the apartment that he shares with his brothers, staining his fingers with oil paints. He has his own tattoos and usually, the artsy guys are adored, but his tired, bored look usually makes women steer clear of him. 

Choso had gotten used to it. He told himself he was happy to not be romantically involved with someone as it makes life too complicated and messy…until he met you.

He was working a Friday night shift at a bar which he usually does to make extra cash, strumming along on his guitar and singing covers. Your eyes met when he looked out into the audience and that was it. He still can’t describe what happened. It was like the world stopped and he very nearly forgot the words to the Summer Walker song he was crooning in the mic. 

You sat in the middle at the table with a couple of friends, your smooth, shapely legs crossed over one another, manicured hands folded in your lap. He could just see the space where your thigh met your ass under the mini dress you had on that hugged your body the way he wanted to. Your braids, black and perfectly twisted at the bottom like coiled snakes, were pulled back to show off your gorgeous face and plump, glossy lips parted slightly as you intently watched him sing. You never took your eyes off of him and he didn’t want you to. In his mind, he sang to you, but to the audience, he sang to everyone else. 

He didn’t expect you to come up to him during his break, body absolutely all over the place. He could barely focus on setting his guitar up next to the stage when he turned and saw you. “Hi,” you greeted him, giving him a beaming smile that made his brain stop working. “I don’t mean to bother you, but I wanted to tell you how good you were up there. You can really sing.” 

Choso didn’t say anything at first, not sure how. You were the first girl to ever talk to him first, especially about him and not about his brothers. “Uh…thanks,” he finally said, swallowing harshly. He did his best to not look down at your delectable cleavage that sat invitingly in front of him. 

“I’m Y/N,” you said, holding your hand out for a shake. He noticed how long and pretty your acrylics were and envisioned them gripping his shoulders or snaking down his muscular back. “I’m a regular here, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” Hesitantly, he took your hand, noticing how small it was compared to his. “Choso,” he replied. “I don’t work here full-time. I take shifts now and again.” 

You nodded understandably. “I was about to say,” you giggled, “I would’ve definitely remembered a voice like yours…and a face like yours too.” There wasn’t anything funny about the way you said it. You were dead serious, your tone soft and flirtatious. Choso swore he nearly combusted. You were flirting with him. Him! All he could was blush, but you pretended not to notice. 

You stood there talking for the majority of his twenty-minute break and he didn’t mind one bit. He loved getting to know you, placing and storing all of your features into his memory for later. When you asked for his number, he flipped it and asked for yours, smiling fondly at the cute emoji you put next to your name. He left that night feeling like he was floating on cloud nine, prompting Sukuna to ask him what pussy he got when he came into the apartment that night. 

That was six months ago and you’re still here. Despite his flaws and his quirks, you have stayed. He has never been happier than with you…or more comfortable. There are things he’s told you that he hasn’t even told his brothers or closest friends. He feels like he can tell you anything and you won’t run, from how stressful it is to be a parental figure since his parents died when the twins were toddlers or how sometimes he’s afraid that he’ll lose interest in his art or how he doesn’t feel good enough. 

He feels like himself when he’s with you. He feels free. Relaxed. You bring him peace. He wants to give you something to show you that. Though he isn’t familiar with the “rules” of Valentine’s Day because he’s never celebrated the holiday, he knows he wants to make the day one you will never forget. 

So the week before February 14th, a Wednesday, Choso spends his time making his gift for you, closed up in his room with his equipment, and forcing his brothers to bring him meals.

That weekend, he invites you over to his place on Friday. When he calls and asks you if you’re free after work tonight, he feels his pulse jump and his body grow warm. What’s the big deal? You’ve been over his place so many times before, playing video games and shooting the shit with his brothers. 

‘But this is different,’ he thinks. This is for Valentine’s Day. This is to spend the night, with no one around for once. This is for more. “You want me to sleep over?” you ask, sounding surprised yourself. “Are the boys gonna be there?” 

“No,” he replies, smiling at the slight intake of breath he hears you make. So you’re just as excited as he is. “They won’t be here. I have a surprise for you.” 

“A surprise?” you giggle softly, the sound like music to his ears. “Can you give me a hint?” He hums a no, earning a groan of disappointment. “You’ll just have to wait and see, but I think you’ll like it.” 

On Saturday, he kicks his brothers out, telling them to bunk with Megumi for the night. Yuji and Sukuna are more than happy to do so, wanting to see Megumi’s dogs (though Sukuna acts like he isn’t). Then Choso spends the whole night cleaning, wiping down the entirety of the apartment until it sparkles. Before he starts cooking the V-Day dinner, he jumps in the shower and lathers himself in the vanilla and lavender-scented soap you love so much, making sure every part of him smells like the soap. 

Once finished, he picks out a casual yet presentable outfit––a black tee that sticks to his toned body, jeans, and the Armani boxers Sukuna got him for his birthday telling him he has “no taste in nothing”––and lets his black locks fall into a mullet over his head rather than applying gel to put them into his usual ponytails. He usually doesn’t put too much effort into his looks but for you? He’ll do anything to turn you on with his appearance. 

You get off from work at 5 PM and he already ordered an Uber for you to arrive on time to pick you up, telling you to not worry about paying him back. “I don’t want your money, baby,” he tells you, hopping right off of texts when you start to argue to call your phone. “I’ve got money. People love my shit, remember?” 

He remembers you telling him that at his winter art exhibit in December. He took you as his plus one and you took it upon yourself to wear his favorite color on your sinfully tight dress. All he could think about was bending you over as you walked around admiring his work of the city in the wintertime––white snow on the roofs of houses; the park glinting in white; schoolchildren in their colorful coats; citizens with red noses and steams billowing from their takeout cups of coffee. Many of his paintings were sold that night, including one of himself, Yuji, and Sukuna decorating their Christmas tree. “You capture things so well!” an art critic has gushed to him. “I feel as if you’ll do so many amazing things, young man.” 

Choso had squeezed your hand, trying to not blush. That was only the tip of the iceberg of praise he received that night. He felt that he had achieved what he went to art school for at that moment. And he was so happy to spend it with you, his number one supporter, who also purchased a painting of a little schoolgirl in a red coat smiling at the person behind the photo. He made bank off of that exhibit and, after doing commissions on his IG page, he is able to save up enough for the next month. 

After taking out the ingredients for miso ramen and spending the next hour preparing it, you arrive in your Uber. After bringing the broth to a simmer, Choso wipes his hands off on a dish towel and guns to the door to answer it. You stand behind it in a red sweater and hip-hugging jeans that he’d like to replace with his hands. In one hand, you have your work bag while in the other, you have your overnight duffle. “Hey, you,” you greet him, looking oh-so happy to see him. 

You inch closer to him and he wraps an arm around you as you lean into him. “Hey yourself,” he greets, feeling relaxed the minute he has you in his arms. He stands aside, letting you step into his apartment. He eyes your swaying ass as you do, unable to stop his cock from hardening at the sight of your cheeks. “Nice outfit. You have a date with your boss too today?” 

You look back at him and smirk. “Oh, yeah, and he loved these jeans on me.” You slide a hand down your behind to which he shamelessly follows, blushing. God, how he wants to see that ass without anything over it. He wants you naked. But in time. You close your eyes at the scent of spices and herbs wafting in from the kitchen. “Mmm, somethin’ smells good,” you hum.

You put down your bags and follow him into the kitchen, grinning at the broth and noodles. “You’ve been sayin’ how much you wanted me to cook with you,” he chuckles. “It’s almost done. You go relax and I’ll take your bags upstairs.” You nod and stand up on your toes to peck him on the cheek before doing as he says, leaving him rock hard and blushing a bright red. 

After the broth is finally done and the noodles are soft, he sets the two bowls of ramen aside before taking your bags upstairs to his bedroom. There, on the bed, is your gift, wrapped in a gold wrapping paper. He feels nervous butterflies flap around in his stomach. Will you like your gift? Will you accept it? Will you think he’s too cheap to have gotten you something better or more expensive? 

He puts these thoughts on the back burner as he walks back downstairs to see you sitting upright on the couch, shoes off and looking relaxed. He presses a kiss to your forehead as he walks past you to fetch your dinner. When he returns, you’re wearing a giddy smile. “So where’s my surprise?” you ask, pretending to be impatient. 

“Damn, baby, you just got here!” he laughs as he sits down next to you on the couch. “You can’t wait till we eat?” You bounce on the couch, making your breasts jiggle and Choso hard enough to fuck a hole into the wall. Why are you so fucking hot? “I’m too excited to eat!” you groan. “You know how much I love surprises, Chosi!” 

He blushes at the nickname only you’re allowed to call him. “Relax, mama,” he coos, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “You’ll get it soon. For now, just enjoy the lovely ramen I made you. I even added extra ham.” You look up at him with big, wobbly lips, touched. “You love me,” you coo. 

‘Yes,’ he thinks. ‘I really do.’ But he’s never said it. He figured it was still too early in your relationship to do so. Not to mention that one elephant in the room: you haven’t had sex yet. You’ve been dating since September and it hasn’t happened yet, mostly because it would be Choso’s first time doing so. 

He has kissed a girl before and has touched some titties here and there, but he’s never slept with anyone before. He never thought it was a big deal until he met you and fell so deeply for you that he wants to give all of himself to you. He has never told you and hasn’t tried to push things any farther during makeout sessions or heavy petting, but he’s hoping tonight that all of that will change.  

He sits and watches you eat, asking you about how your work week went and what you did today. He watches your glossy mouth as it moves, transfixed and wishing his cock was between them. It takes everything in him to finish dinner like a normal person though his body is itching to get this thing going. It is a peaceful dinner regardless, a comfortable silence settling between you both that neither one of you fills. His knee brushes against yours and sometimes, you reach over to wipe broth from his lip. Little touches like that drive him insane. 

By the time you finish and he forces you to wait until he loads up the dishwasher, you’re dying of impatience and anticipation. “Chosiiii,” you whine, lying on the couch. “I can’t wait any longer. Please can we exchange gifts now?” He pauses from turning on the dishwasher, slowly turning to you. “You got me a gift?” he asks, shocked. 

“Well, of course!” you giggle, sitting up. “It is Valentine’s Day after all and last time I checked, you are my boyfriend.” Your boyfriend. Choso has never been more proud of that in his life. As quick as lightning, he finishes up in the kitchen and hurries to fetch your gift, doing his best to not seem nervous when he returns. 

You both sit on the couch, face to face, knee to knee, both shy yet excited. You pass him a small box wrapped with a bow. “It’s something small,” you shyly say, “but I hope you like it.” With shaky hands, he unties it, revealing two gold chains, one with a C hanging from it and the other with the first letter of your name. 

You pick the chain with your initial, handing it to me. “So I’m always close to you, even when I’m not there. I bought one for myself too.” Gawking at the chain, Choso nearly bursts. He’s never gotten a gift so thoughtful before. “Why are you this fucking cute?” he sighs dreamily, earning a cute giggle from your luscious lips. “This is perfect, baby. Thank you.” 

Now it’s his turn. He smiles at you, taking your hands in his. “Close your eyes first. No peeking.” You pout but do as he says, closing your eyes. He then takes the gift from behind him and places it into your hands. “Now open.” You do so and tear open the wrapping paper to see what lies inside. When you finally do, your smile fades and you are speechless as you stare at your face on the small canvas. 

He copied it from a picture he took of you one day in the park, the autumn sun on your sleeping face, the sunlight in your lashes. You looked like a Goddess slumbering for the day. He chose the colors carefully, wanting to capture the right tone of your skin in the sunlight and the way your braids lit up from the sun’s rays. He used more defined strokes for smaller details like the coils of your braids, your eyelashes, and the blades of grass beneath you. He used larger strokes for the background, blurring it together so only you stood out. He truly believes that this is the best piece he’s ever painted. You gape at the painting before looking up at him. “Did you paint this?” you squeak. 

He nods, smiling proudly. “This was when we were at the park on one of our dates. You fell asleep in the sun and I couldn’t resist not taking a photo.” He gently runs a thumb over the canvas, admiring your painted face. “I love seeing you like this: so at peace. So comfortable. That’s how you make me feel every time I’m with you.” 

You continue to stare at him, mouth parted and eyes wide. In the silence, he finds his confidence and the will to speak. “Y/N,” he begins, nervously so, “you make me feel something I’ve never felt with anyone. I feel so comfortable with you, like nothing and no one can hurt me when we’re together. You’re like my personal diary—I can tell you anything and can trust that it won’t ever leave you. I wanna be that for you too, baby. I just hope this painting says it more than I could.” 

Now you finally crack and your eyes well up with tears. You lower the painting onto the coffee table beside your gift before leaning into Choso’s chest, wrapping your arms around him. “It does,” you sob. “And you are. You’re that and more. I love you, Choso.” As soon as he hears those three little words, Choso is aglow, nearly jumping for joy at the fact that you feel the same way. 

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “I love you too,” he whispers, pressing a hand to the back of your head. All is right with the world. All is even better when you lean up and press your lips to his. He falls into your sweet, soft lips immediately, pressing a hand to your face to caress your cheek. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to grow more passionate and heated, leading you to slip into his lap and straddle him. 

Choso groans when he feels the heat in between your legs rub up against his crotch where he can already feel the blood rushing to his cock, especially when his hands find your ass. You wrap your arms around him and bring yourself closer to him, pushing your delectable breasts up against his chest as you slowly grind your hips into his hard-on. He moans at the same time you do, the act of moaning into each other’s mouths making him even harder. You pull away, looking dazed. “Is this okay?” you ask, breathless. He nods, speechless. “I only ask ‘cause you’re so hard.” 

He blushes scarlet, realizing he’s been caught, but then again, it isn’t like you haven’t felt it before. You’ve made out dozens of times before and he sprouted a hard-on but never did anything. You both agreed to give it some time and move slowly. “I mean…you feel really good,” he sheepishly chuckles, earning a proud, beaming, pretty ass smile from you. “But if this is as far as you wanna go, we can.” 

You’re thinking differently though. You hold his face between his hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Choso, I’ve been wanting you to fuck my brains out for months,” you boldly say. “I’ve just waited because I thought it was still too early for us.” Choso swears he nearly busts a nut hearing that. “But are you okay with this?” you ask, looking worried. 

He pauses, thinking to himself. Is he okay with this? As fast as the question appears in his head, the answer is there: Yes. He knows he wants this with you and no one else. But he also knows he’ll have to tell you the truth. “I-I am,” he stutters. 

You look at him sideways, your brows knitted. “Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” you ask worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?” Fear and guilt strike within him. No, no, this isn’t what he wants! He doesn’t want to make––his baby––you feel bad. “No,” he instantly replies, taking your face in his hands. “No, Y/N, you’re doin’ amazing. This is me just bein’ a fucking coward.” 

He looks down, ashamed. What will you ever think of him if he tells you? “Cho,” you coax him with your sweet voice. Seeing the worry in those pretty, brown eyes, he gains the confidence to tell you.  “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” he sighs. “I do want you, Y/N. I want you so fucking bad, but there’s something I need to tell you.” At the sight of slight fear in those perfect, big eyes, he feels himself wither. He doesn’t want to scare you, but he can’t lie to you either. “I want us to have sex, but…I wouldn’t know what to do,” he confesses. 

You pause, the new information processing in your pretty head. Then your lips part in realization. “Choso, you’ve never had sex before?” you ask, sounding just as surprised as you look. Though blushing red, he slowly shakes his head. “With any type of sex, right?” you continue. “No oral? Nothing?” Once again, he shakes his head, feeling like he will die of embarrassment. 

You exhale softly, stroking up his chest. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?” You sound oh-so disappointed by that, making him feel even more guilty. “I was afraid you’d laugh or think I was a loser or somethin’,” he admits. “I’ve just never gotten to doing any of that stuff. You’d be the first.” 

At that moment, something in you shifts. He sees a fire flicker behind your eyes which excites him. “So I’d be the first woman to see you naked?” you ask in a soft, sultry voice. “And wrap my lips around this?” Your hand snakes down between you and him to cup his bulge, making him tense and softly moan at the foreign yet pleasurable feeling of someone else’s hand on his cock besides his own. “Y-Yeah,” he whispers, staring deep into your eyes. “The first. I want to give myself to you tonight, Y/N, if you’ll have me.” 

Though there is a part of him that feels afraid of being so vulnerable, he knows deep down he can trust you. You practically melt at his sweet words. “Chosi,” you coo, stroking his cheek, “of course, I’ll have you. I want us to have each other tonight.” You lean in to kiss him, coaxing him to open his mouth and swirl your tongue with his. His eyes roll back into his head at the taste of you. “Just relax and let me show you what you’re missing,” you moan into his mouth. “Let me take care of you tonight, baby.” 

As you continue to kiss him, you begin to palm him through his pants. “Will you let me do that?” you teasingly ask. He gasps into your mouth, your touch so magical. He can’t imagine how it will feel on his naked cock. He can’t take much more and begins to grind into your hands, desperate for relief. “Yes,” he groans. “Yes, baby, please, just touch me!” 

You giggle against his lips, giving him a peck on the chin before doing what he wants and needs of you. You stand up and begin to strip for him as he lays back against the couch, legs spread and cock twitching in his pants. His eyes drink in every part of you as you take off your clothes: your soft, brown skin; your slender back; your legs, calves, and thighs; your breasts that jiggle in your bra; your ass in your pink, lace panties. You’re beautiful. 

You put your hands on your hips, pursing your lips at him playfully. “Well?” you ask. “You gonna join me, stud?” He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He stands before you and strips with your insisted help. You take off his shirt while he works off his pants, pulling them down his muscled thighs and legs. Finally, he is in his briefs, the rest of his clothes left on the floor. You begin to feel him up, your hands and eyes greedily indulging in his body. “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. “You’re so sexy, Cho.” 

He shivers in delight at your reaction to his body. “Not as sexy as you,” he hums. He wants to squeeze your ass or play with those gorgeous titties, but his hands don’t seem to want to move. Noticing, you giggle and coax him back onto the couch. “You can touch me too, you know,” you purr. “Or are you just gonna stare and leave me aching like this?” 

You take off your bra to show him just what you mean, exposing your hard, brown nipples to him. Choso has never seen such beauties in his life and he can’t resist wrapping his lips around one of the hardened peaks. The sounds you make only encourage you to continue sucking and lapping on your nipples, switching between each like a hungered man in need of milk. He fondles your breasts two, gently pulling at a nipple that isn’t between his lips. He pays close attention to your reactions, each one sending tingles into his dick. 

“Fuck, Choso, just like that,” you moan, gripping his shoulders and arching your back, pushing your tits farther into his face. “That feels so good!” He looks up at you from your chest, loving how your lips part and your eyelids flutter from the pleasure that he’s giving you. “Yeah?” he asks. “That feels good?” You hum in enjoyment as he nipples on your tight nipples, using his hand to fondle your other breast that his mouth isn��t occupying. 

He continues to indulge your delectable, wonderful, heavenly titties until you’ve finally had enough. You pull his mouth away from your nipple, a string of saliva dangling from his bottom lip. “I wanna taste you,” you whisper. “Can I do that for you?”

Choso’s eyes widen in both shock and excitement. Oh, ho he’s wanted to feel those plump, soft lips around his cock for so long! “Yes,” he agrees. “Just be gentle…please.” You give him a warm smile and kiss him softly before moving off of him. You get on your knees between his thighs and slowly take down his boxers, freeing his cock from its trap. 

“Fuck, Choso,” you gasp. “You’re so big…and you have a dick piercing! That’s so hot!” He flushes at your reaction. “It was a dare by Yuji and Todo,” he admits. You grin up at him and lick your palm before wrapping a hand around him. “Just tell me if it’s too much or if you need me to slow down,” you instruct. He nods and leans back, urging you to continue. 

You first begin to stroke him, coating his dick in your spit in the process. He can’t explain how good yet different your hand feels. Yours is soft and much smaller compared to his, your brown skin and bright-colored nails contrasting with his paler skin. Not to mention the tight grip you have on him. It feels better than all of the times he’s fucked his hand or his trusty fleshlight. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groans. “Your hand feels so good.” 

“You’ll like my mouth even more, I think,” you giggle. “And you can fuck my throat if you want to. I love it rough.” You give him a wink to which he blushes a ruby red. “R-Really?” he stutters. “Are you– oh, shit!” His questions are halted when you wrap your lips around him and begin to gently suck on him, getting him used to your mouth. His mouth forms a pleasurable O as he watches you take his cock on your knees, sucking on it like it’s your own personal lollipop. 

Your warm mouth and wet tongue feel so good against his cock, caressing every sensitive part of his shaft. You even take your hand and fondle his balls while your other strokes him in time with your mouth, twisting this way and that as if you’re trying to drain the cum out of him. 

“Oh, my God, baby,” he moans, gripping the couch for dear life. “Your mouth feels so fuckin’ good!” He’s never felt anything so wonderful in his life. 

You briefly pull away to breathe, your mouth coated in spit. It only makes him harder seeing you––his pretty girlfriend––look so slutty for him. Then you put that mouth on him again, swallowing him whole. “Yeah?” you ask, your voice muffled by his cock stuffed deep inside your mouth. “You like my mouth, baby boy?” You go deeper, taking him into your throat with ease despite his girth, and he nearly jumps off of the couch from the sensations. “Fuck yes!” he whines. “P-Please don’t stop!”  

He can feel his hips moving on their own beneath you, gently bucking into your mouth the more you gag and flex that throat around him. Your plump lips look so good stretched around him, dripping in your spit as lewd sounds of you gagging all over him fill the air. You then pull away to take a breath and recover, but not for long. “Fuck my face,” you say, your eyes pleading. “Give me that dick, Choso. I can take all of it.” 

He blinks at you, not sure if he’s just hallucinating from the pleasure, but the eager strokes of your hand around his cock make it very clear that this is real. You plan that throat on him again and, after ensuring that you’re okay, begins to fuck your face the way you pleaded him to. He grabs your hair and thrusts up into your mouth like it’s his own personal fucktoy. He starts to see it as such, not wanting any cock in your throat but his. “Fuck,” he groans, “fuck, fuck, baby, fuck!” He can’t keep quiet, too overcome with lust and the pleasure he feels as he pistons into your throat again and again. 

It doesn’t take long for him to feel that familiar tightening in his balls, signaling his end. “Shit, Y/N, you’re gonna make me cum,” he warns. “I-I can’t stop! You need to get off of me if you don’t want me to–” 

You shake your head and he loosens his grip on you so you can breathe. “Cum for me,” you plead. “Cum deep down my throat, Daddy, please.” Choso nearly busts right there. Again, he grabs you and thrusts into your throat, focusing on the way your tight, wet walls flex around him until he can hardly take it. “Oh, shit!” he groans loudly. “I’m gonna fucking cum, baby! Don’t stop, please! Fuck, I’m…I’m…” 

He can’t finish his sentence because his orgasm erupts inside of him, spilling out into your throat. You moan around his cock as he cums, his sexy groans of release echoing throughout the apartment. He spurts rope after rope of warm, creamy cum into your mouth which you eagerly, your mouth sliding off of his cock. You sit back and swallow it all, some of it dripping down your chin. Once the fog of his orgasm finally fades, Choso looks down at you and feels embarrassed. “Sorry,” he shyly apologizes. “That was…a lot.” 

You giggle, wiping at your chin and the corner of your mouth. “Yes, it was,” you agree. “Mmm, you gave me such a big load, baby. You must’ve needed that.” He blushes again though you seem like you enjoyed it. You then look up at him with those big eyes and a warm smile. “So how was your first blowjob?” 

He doesn’t even have all of the words to describe such a feeling. “Incredible,” he sighs happily. “But now you need your turn, don’t you?” At the mention of this, your smile grows wider and you stand up so you can lie down on the couch beside him. He faces you and gently moves your thighs apart to reveal your panties. “You may have to guide me though. It’s my first time eating pussy.” He gives you a sheepish smile, staring into your pretty eyes between your thighs. “Can you show me where you like to be touched? And how?” 

He keeps his eyes on yours as he slowly drags your panties down your legs that he stops to coat in wet kisses. You moan and run your hands through his black locks of hair, gripping them when he begins to gently run his finger up and down your slit, feeling how hot and wet you are. “C’mon, mama, show me,” he coos. “Guide me. Guide my face.” 

And so you do. You lift your hips as he slides down your panties, whimpering softly as he stares at your pussy. He’s never seen anything so soft and beautiful. As he encouraged you to do, you guide his face to where your clit is and instruct him to gently suck on it while using the flat of his tongue to slowly lick up and down your slit. He does so, enjoying your taste and the sounds you make. 

“That’s it, baby,” you softly moan. “Lick that pussy. Lap up all of me…it’s all for you.” Something inside of Choso bursts at those nasty words falling from your pretty mouth. Something like a wildfire blooms inside of him with no way to put it out until you’ve cum too. 

He goes slow, letting you get used to him and himself used to you. After a few minutes, he’s got it down and knows just how to make you squirm under his hands that stay planted on your ass, angling your hips so he can reach that spot that makes you let out that voice even more. “Oh, my God, Choso!” you gasp, gripping his locks of hair. “Fuck, that’s so good! Please keep going!” 

“You taste so good,” he moans into your pussy. “So fuckin’ wet…so tight…I need all of you.” He’s so pent up that he begins to fist his cock that has begun to harden again at the feeling of your wetness dripping down his chin. He loves eating your pussy. He could get drunk off of you. 

Before he realizes it, he has started to move his tongue faster, his jaw beginning to ache. But he keeps going, encouraged by your loud whines and sobs that bounce off the walls and caress his ears. “Fuck, Choso!” you whine. “You’re gonna make cum!” 

Like a dog reacting to Pavlov’s bell, Choso continues to eagerly lap at your cunt, encouraging you to cum. “Mmm-hmm,” he hums, lips still wrapped around your perfect little clit. “Cum for me, pretty girl. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” His words become pleas and begs, needing you to cum for him. Needing you to soak his face. “Cum for me, please! I need it! I fucking need it!” 

And you do. “Fuck, Choso!” you moan at the top of your lungs, arching your back and gripping his hair as you finally cum in his mouth. All over his chin. All over the couch. It’s the hottest thing he has ever experienced. Hearing you sob in pleasure and watching your body contort like you’re being exercised is better than any porn. He nearly cums watching you, still pumping his cock as he laps up every bit of your cum along your sensitive pussy and twitching thighs. 

Finally, he sits back and takes a breath while you lay there, eyes closed and chest rapidly rising and falling. “Oh, my God,” you sigh. And then, again, laughingly this time, “Oh, my God!”. He smiles at the little breathless, delirious giggles that leave your lips. “I guess I did a good job?” he asks, giddy at the fact that he made you feel that good. You open your eyes and smile up at him, noting but sedated lust and adoration there. “That was amazing, baby,” you happily sigh. “You sure that was your first time eating pussy?” He laughs at this, his stomach flipping with joy. “I don’t think my dreams count, so, yes.” 

Noticing your eyes have fallen to his hard cock, he begins to soothingly stroke your thigh, not wanting you to feel obligated to continue. “You need to relax for a minute?” Silently, you shake your head and sit up to straddle him, forcing him onto his back. “You sure?” he asks, concerned. “What about your–” 

“I’m fine,” you interrupt. “I’ll be even better when I get you inside of me.” His eyes widen as he stares up at you, not used to such impatience. The same fire inside of him has grown inside of you too. “Hold onto my hips, okay? I’m gonna guide you in.” Wordlessly, he nods, swallowing hard as your hand wraps around the base of his cock and guides him down to your entrance. He feels himself getting harder as the anticipation and the sight of you on top overtakes him. 

Finally, after running his cock up against your slit, emitting soft moans from both of you, he finally slips inside of you. “Fuck!” he gasps at the same time as you release a moan of pure pleasure. “B-Baby, you’re so tight!” Your soft, wet walls flutter around him and squeeze him at the same time, making him feel like he is being tightly embraced. 

You slide up halfway, grasping his shoulders for leverage. He keeps his hands on your hips to help guide you though he trembles as he does. “Too much?” you breathlessly ask. He shakes his head, nearly groaning when you move black strands of his hair out of his face. “I’ll move slow, okay? Just feel me, Choso. Don’t fight it.” 

Choso doesn’t. He couldn’t even if he tried. The way your wet, spongy walls squeeze around him so tight, slowly stroking his cock the same way your mouth did but way more intense, is driving him further toward the edge of insanity. You begin to alternate between rolling your hips and bouncing on him by balancing on your knees, making him plunge his cock into you again and again. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your tits flush against his chest. “That feel good, baby?” you coo into his ear. “You like this pussy?” 

Choso can’t take any it—the wetness of your pussy; the slow rocking of your hips; your soft body moving up and down against him as you slowly bounce on his dick. He holds you closer to him, needing more. “Fuck, Y/N!” he groans. “N-Need it…need it faster!” 

He feels you grin against his ear as you nibble on his earlobe and kiss down his neck. “Faster?” you chuckle. “Is that what you said?” He frantically nods as you pull away to stare into his eyes. “Then grab my hips and make me go faster,” you purr. “Take what you want. I’m yours, Daddy.” 

That fire inside of Choso damn near explodes. You just gave him confirmation to fuck you up completely. So he grabs your hips and begins to fuck up into you, driving himself deeper and deeper into you. Your walls begin to flutter around him more intensely as lewd, squelching sounds begin to emit from your wet pussy the more his cock fucks up into it like it’s his personal fleshlight.

You’re loving it, your arms tightening around his neck and thighs tightening from the pleasure he is giving you. “O-Oh my G-God!” you moan, each word shaky from being bounced so much on his cock. “F-Fuck, Choso! Sh-Sh-Shit!” 

He grins, proud to be making you feel this good and act this slutty for him. “Yeah?” he chuckles breathlessly. He grabs your ass and gives into a smack as he drives his cock into you, his slamming up against yours. “That dick feel good? Tell me, mama. Tell me how good I feel fucking you.” You grip him close, pressing your face into his shoulder. “Yes, like that!” you sob. “You feel so good, Chosi! You make me feel so fucking good!” 

He can’t explain the way that makes him feel. He is overwhelmed and flooded with waves of lust, love, and everything in between as he feels you; hears you; tastes you. He wants to make this count. He needs to make sure you understand how you make him feel.

“Come here,” he demands. “Down here, right against me.” He pauses and lays back against the couch, pulling you against him. There, he begins to thrust up into you again, gripping your ass as you slide a hand between your thighs to frantically rub your clit. 

“You deserve this,” he groans. “You deserve every minute, every second of this. I wanna give this to you all the time. Can I do that for you, baby? Please?” He holds your face between his hands, staring into your pleasure-stricken expression and lust-blown eyes. “Can I give you my cum?” he whispers. 

Biting on your bottom lip from the pleasure, you nod your head, gripping one of his hands and pressing it closer to your cheek. “Yes,” you whimper. You begin to push yourself down against him, slamming your pussy down onto his cock again and again to bring you both closer to the edge. “Yes, baby, give it all to me! Please make me cum with you!” 

Choso then presses a rough, passionate kiss to your lips as he slams into you, gripping you closer to him. “I love you!” he growls. “I love you so fucking much! Let me show you how fucking much.” The more he thrusts in and out of you, the more it feels like your cunt is trying to suck him in. You soon begin to move against one another, swallowing your shallow breaths and desperate moans as the couch squeaks beneath your bodies. He can feel himself edging closer to his end, his balls swelling and that fire growing. 

“Tell me you love me,” he demands. “Tell me right now.” You sink your nails into his pecs, giving him a bite of pain that sends his cock into a frenzy. “I love you!” you damn near scream. ��I love you so, so much, Choso!” You stare into his eyes, pleading for him to give you what you crave. “Please cum with me,” you beg. “Please, please, baby, fill me up!” 

Your sobbing wet pussy does the same, begging for his cum the more he pistons into you. Finally, he feels it building and can feel your walls tightening, signaling that your end is near too. “Cum on that cock,” he moans. “Do it for me, baby, c’mon, please!”

Your jaw falls slack as does his and a small lull of silence swells around you as the pleasure builds. When that damn finally breaks, neither one of you can hold back. Moans, cries, and gasps fill the air as you both cum against each other, you gushing around his cock and him filling you up.

“Fuck!” he groans, sloppily thrusting his slick cock into you again and again as he rides out the last of his orgasm with you. You fall slack against him, your moans dying down to soft gasps and tiny whimpers as your pussy twitches around him. 

Finally exhausted, Choso’s thrusts grow sloppier and slower until he finally stops and lets your mingled cum drip down his balls, not even caring if it stains the couch. He feels you twitch slightly against him, but he holds you close to him. “No, don’t move,” he murmurs, tightening his grip on you. “Just stay here for a minute with me.” 

Silence falls upon you as you lay in your afterglow, you on top of him. He stays inside of you, his cock growing soft, but he feels so at home there. So…comfortable. He breathes in your scent, stroking your clammy skin, back, and ass. He can feel his eyes fluttering closed from the sedation of the sex and that amazing second orgasm. “Babe?” you ask. 

He lifts his head to look down at you. “Hm?” 

You peel your head off of his chest, smiling up at him. “I have to pee,” you giggle. Blushing, Choso quickly releases you. “R-Right, sorry! You need me to walk you?” He watches as you carefully slide off of him, his flaccid cock flapping against his lower stomach. You slowly plant one foot on the floor and then try to stand. “Uh, I think I’m–oh, shit!” you gasp as your leg wobbles. You slide the rest of the way off of Choso and nearly fall to the ground, but he catches you. 

He wraps one arm around your waist and sits you back down on the couch. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’m not too tired to carry you.” Slowly, he stands, butt naked, and scoops you, also butt naked, up against him bridal style.

“What a gentleman,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck as your feet dangle off the ground. “You paint and cook for me, make me cum my brains out, and carry me to the bathroom.” He softly laughs at your compliment, blushing mad hard and secretly beaming with pride. He is so happy you feel this way about him. 

After taking you to the bathroom, he waits for you on the couch with some water. When you return, you both lay on the couch face to face, front to front. “So how was your first time?” you gently ask, stroking his chest. 

He takes a moment to think about this, wondering which words will satisfy you. “It was amazing,” he sighs, earning a pleased smile from you. That was obviously the right answer. “You were amazing.” He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. 

“So were you,” you sigh, mirroring his actions. It causes him to lean in to kiss you which only makes his cock twitch against your thigh. Noticing, you giggle against his mouth. “Again?” you whisper. 

“Y’know, we’ve got plenty of time before my idiot brothers come back,” he murmurs against your lips. “And I’ve always wanted to have shower sex with you…if you’re up for it.” He adds this sheepishly, not wanting to see like a sex fiend when you just got done one round. After all, you need the rest. 

But you seem to be on the same time as your hooded eyes stare into his and your hand gently caresses his cock pressed against you. “Lead the way then, stud,” you purr. 

Choso has never moved so fast in his life. 

THE END.

#smutty smut #black fanfic writer #my works #black writers #black coded reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #choso x black!reader #choso smut #jjk choso #choso x reader

[bestbouy]

i think i just love the idea of the different universes with their like, styles???

like how Gwen's is totally watercolor and Hobie's is all scrapbookish punk n newspaper, y'know???? and, of course, Miles and Pavitr's are both more "normal" but they still have that... you know... v i b e... they're both normal but they have elements that make it their own. Like how Pavitr's universe is mainly super warm colors?

anyways this got me thinking y'know how it's super obvious Hobie has a different universe style?? not so much for Gwen because hers is a little different, but with the whole. changing skin, the OUTLINE, it's very obvious

I think it'd be super cool if in Hobie's universe, it's kind of like the opposite for anybody who's not from it? They have their own like, radius of... their own dimension???

I'm only comparing this to Hobie's dimension, it's very obvious none of this would happen in CANON so I'm literally just spitballing. Also because Hobie is the only one with the outline and funny overlay thing, and it'd be fun to play around with the other three's possible like,,, vibe!!

Gwen would leave like, imprints of watercolor? like dabbing it on a piece of paper, leaving color that dries out back to normal over time?? it would bleed into the world around her, it might even mimic her emotions with the color!

If she was upset it would be harsh, spread more, it would come out in spiked reds and blacks?

happy would seep in a lot more subtly, and cover a lot more space, but you wouldn't realize how much room it's taking up just because it's so slow to take it up and really is only at about.. idk, 20% opacity, slowly builds up the happier she gets? it would be more visible in puddles, just like with normal watercolor (Compared to anger, which would be very in-your-face and obvious)

It would rely a lot on her emotions, methinks, the stronger they are, the more visible the color!

Miles would have a sketchy, drawing-like atmosphere to him, kind of like what you can see on the spot y'know? and, since the spot came from Miles' dimension, I think it makes sense!

It would be less noticeable, but the things he interacts with would probably turn into a slightly stylized version of itself? A cup he holds or drinks from wouldn't change DRAMATICALLY, but it might copy his look and have sketch-like lines around it. Nothing huge, but enough that you can tell what he's touched in the past few minutes/hours

Pavitr would have a similar vibe to Gwen's, but with warm colors instead! His effect wouldn't change with emotions like hers, but it would probably bleed in the same way as hers. He would leave behind trails of warm oranges and yellows wherever he goes and leaving it behind on what he touches. He wouldn't notice this, but it would be veeery obvious to Hobie or anybody from his dimension.

Actually, I think the way that we can spot Hobie because of his differences in outline/radius effect would highly apply to them in his dimension! Everybody in Hobie's world can CLEARLY tell that Gwen, Miles and Pav aren't from there, and while the common person might not recognize they're from another universe, they might get the same feeling as if you were seeing like.. a skinwalker, or something. They're human, but it doesn't feel like it.

ANYWAYS back to Pavitr

He has a warm, cozy vibe, I think unlike the others his can seep more into emotions, I think he's an empathetic person and that melts into his little area effect. if he's super happy or excited about something the people around him get a tiny bit happier too!! when he's sad (and it's rly hard to make him sad bc this boy is POSITIVE THINKER #1) his colors get a bit colder, but I don't think they would affect other people like his happy ones do, honestly just SEEING such a normally happy guy so sad would do enough to ur mood than some radius effect lol

ANYWAYS that's just a lil thought. they are silly. and this is going into my ideas folder. have a good one n remember to drink water

(I would go on but this is super long already XD)

#spiderman across the verse #across the spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #hobie brown #miles morales #gwen stacy #arachkids

[emhahee]

Hi hi,

So like I have a question around your Hayffie headcanon’s. Because if I remember correctly you ship them? If not please ignore this.

Two questions actually

1: When do you think they went from arguing (derogatory) to bickering (affectionate)

2: What do you think happened after the war with them Book Verse v Movie Verse. (I only differentiate because a lot of people have different interpretations because of what happened with Effie book v movie)

I think the progression of Haymitch and Effie’s relationship from genuinely not being able to stand each other to making bedroom eyes at each other was a lot more gradual than what we saw as an audience. Like as readers, we only saw the last three years of the development of their relationship when they had YEARS of lore before that that we never saw. I’m sure when they first met, they were both a lot younger and Effie may not have even been an escort at that point. My guess is that they met when she was just working with the stylists, still learning the ropes, probably caught up in being a regular capitol young adult person, which probably hugely impacted their initial impressions of each other when they started having to mentor together, especially considering haymitch’s demeanor. That’s not to say Haymitch didn’t call her “sweetheart” in his Appalachian drawl just to see if he could make her blush through her makeup. Because he would, and she did. But also, for years and years before katniss and Peeta, Haymitch and Effie experienced the losses of their tributes as one. Katniss observed that each of them have different ways of coping with having to send two children to their imminent death year after year: Haymitch uses alcohol, and Effie lives in a hazy cloud of ignorance about what the games even really are, wrapping herself in the glamour and excitement leading up to the games and presumably tuning most of the event itself out. I think over the years, Haymitch and Effie certainly developed a mutual empathy for each other in this regard, because you can’t really blame someone for how they cope with unimaginable loss and suffering. But I think there was a shift in their dynamic around the time of katniss and Peetas first games, not only when they experienced the hope of having victors for the first time, but simultaneously becoming wrapped up in a rebellion. Effie was one of few constants in haymitch’s life and it is my personal belief that their feelings had been stirring for a long time but probably really took off on the victory tour. I’m sure there were nights where effie had a few too many and started sloppily confessing her feelings for Haymitch and the attendants on the train just looked the other way because it would NOT be a good look in the face of unrest and uprising to have a capitol employee fraternizing with a district citizen. But in that regard it was also 🎊forbidden🎊 which makes it so much better in my opinion. But I don’t think Haymitch would really have been able to admit his own feelings for Effie until learning she had been taken by the capitol, much like katniss wasn’t really able to know she loved peeta until he had been taken, too. And like I legitimately cannot imagine the torment Haymitch must have been experiencing at knowing someone who, on the surface, had such an innocent perception of the world being tortured for her association with him and his colleagues. I think Haymitch got home to 12 after the war, fairly soon after got a phone call, and, remembering his phone lines had been reconnected, knew exactly who was waiting on the other end of the line. And from then on it was game over. Or whatever. At least that’s how it is in my head.

#hayffie #thg #hayffie headcanon