#he should pay attention to his surroundings more

[aemonds-fire]

Lady, Wife, Whore, Woman Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen x Female Oneshot

Summary: The story of a young married lady's dilemma when the Prince Regent makes it clear he wants her for himself.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, SMUT, Power Imbalance, Infidelity, Orgasm Denial, medieval-canon sexism, and profanity.

Word Count: 7104

Writer's Notes: The name Lady Stokeworth was used to weave some canon elements into the fic. She is female, but no physical description is given. This got a little long and her story sort of took over, but there's Aemond and smut. Enjoy!!

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Masterlist

The realm is at war because a family wars with itself, making the days darker for all who reside in Westeros, especially in the Red Keep, where each day is fraught with suspicion and danger.

When King Viserys dies, your husband becomes one of many lords imprisoned for loyalty to Princess Rhaenyra, the king's named heir, while you are locked in your chambers. One by one, the captives are brought before the king’s justice and given a last chance to swear fealty to Aegon. Some, including your husband, bend the knee to the green king. Those who do not, including Lords Hayford, Merryweather, and Harte, as well as Lady Fell, lose their heads that day.

Despite his oath of allegiance to King Aegon, you know your husband’s loyalty, and therefore your own, is still questioned. Simply asking to send a message by raven to your family can be viewed as treachery, for you are inexperienced in the conspiracy and duplicity that have spread throughout the court, and that is distressing enough.

But you, the new Lady Stokeworth, have another unwanted worry from which you cannot escape. You have no idea what you did to attract his interest, but from the moment of your first introduction months ago, the gaze of his eye has followed you.

“We should not be late. Are you ready?” Your husband’s question brings your thoughts back to the here and now.

Looking up at him, you force a smile. Though you have no wish to leave your chambers, you know attendance at this dinner is required. Smoothing your skirts as you get up, you only reply, “Yes, I’m ready.”

Placing your hand on your husband’s arm and trying to maintain a neutral expression on your face, you walk through the keep, keeping your eyes downcast in an attempt to stay oblivious to your surroundings. But you can still feel the eyes of the court following you, and you think the sounds of their whispers are louder today, making the halls of the Red Keep feel as if they are closing in on you.

The dinner is a somewhat subdued affair, not unexpected given the state of war and the horrors that even the royal family has not been spared. Musicians play, trying to keep spirits light and impress an illusion of normalcy upon the Targaryen court. The only members of the royal family present are the Prince Regent and his mother, the Dowager Queen, which is not surprising given the gravely injured King Aegon's bedridden state and the rumored madness of Queen Helaena following her son's murder.

You have little appetite; you only pick at your food. You can feel his eye on you; you don’t need to look to know he openly stares at you. Any attempts at discretion have long since ceased. Thinking back, you came to the Red Keep as the new bride of Lord Stokeworth, having only been wed a few weeks, but determined to adapt to married life as the wife of a lord from a house larger than your family’s modest one.

Upon meeting the prince, you immediately feel shy in his presence. While his appearance is striking in a handsome and dashing way, it is his unusual combination of aloofness and intensity that unsettles you. You believed there would be little contact with him, as you were only the wife of a lord. Initially, you dismiss the subtle glances or the accidental closeness he always managed to achieve, but with time, you begin to suspect that he is paying more attention to you than he should.

You and your husband are due to leave the Red Keep and return home to Castle Stokeworth, but the King’s death changes everything and forces your stay in the Red Keep. The coming days became a whirlwind of uncertainty and fear. After the coronation of Aegon II and the escape of Princess Rhaenys, hope fades that the Targaryens can peacefully resolve their differences.

The news of Prince Aemond striking the first blow by killing his nephew Lucerys, thereby ensuring open warfare between the factions of House Targaryen, shocks everyone, but it seems to bring about a change in the Prince himself. If he feels any remorse for killing his nephew, he hides it well, but he does not hide his more imposing and aggressive nature. He now basks in the admiration of many green supporters and savors the fear of others as the rider of the deadly Vhagar.

Before long, Prince Aemond takes over as ruler, becoming Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm. With the weight of the war on his shoulders and the power of a king in his hands, he feels no need to be discreet.

For you, that means his hints of interest in you, which were once subtle enough to be dismissed, are now too bold to be mistaken. Quick glances have now become long gazes at your full lips or the swell of your breasts. When he kisses your hand, his curved lips linger on your skin, and his long fingers hold onto you for too long.

Lords and ladies who have linked their fates and the fate of their houses to the Greens worry with every piece of bad news and every sign of the mercurial Prince Regent’s displeasure. With his desire for you, like now an open book for anyone to read, some even suggest that if having the little wife of Lord Stokeworth in his bed will help him rule, then let him have her. Whispers become hints, and soon you begin to feel pressure from the court to give in to him. Though many are surprised that he hasn’t taken what he clearly wants already, some think that he enjoys toying with the pretty lady and humiliating her husband, while others worry that the young ruler has no time for games while at war.

The thought of dishonoring you and your new husband by being the subject of such a scandal horrifies you. You were raised to be a loyal and dutiful wife; it is not in your nature to seek out this kind of attention. You can only hope that if you remain steadfast and true to your marriage, the prince will soon tire of your resistance.

“The more you resist him, the more determined he is to have you." A feminine voice beside you utters conspiratorially.

Startled, you turn to see that Lady Rosby has taken the seat next to you. Having finished their meal, most are milling about in small groups of conversation, with a few pairings taking to the dance floor in an attempt to maintain an air of unconcerned nobility. You stay seated, hoping to remain unnoticed.

“I beg your pardon, Lady Rosby,” you stammer, the discomfort of having to discuss your situation only making you feel worse.

“You have made it clear that you did not seek out the prince’s attention, but you have his attention nonetheless,” the older lady continues, pausing to take a sip of her wine. “A wise woman would consider giving him what he wants, willingly, rather than continuing to vex the dragon.”

Aghast, you can only stare open-mouthed at Lady Rosby, who is the first to blatantly suggest to your face that you dishonor yourself, your husband, and your family by willingly submitting to his lustful desires.

Lady Rosby’s face does not soften at the sight of tears forming in your eyes. “I’m telling you this for your own good. I can see that you are naive, but the harsh truth is that noble ladies have had to spread their legs for worse men than him to serve the realm.” Seeing you begin to shake your head in despair, she grabs hold of your hand. “Give him what he wants before he loses patience and decides to take it by force. Learn how to make him happy.”

Fighting to hold back your tears, you tear your hand out of her grasp, standing abruptly, needing to get away from this woman and leave this crowded hall. A now-too-familiar voice from behind you halts your progress as you quickly make your way around the end of the long table, looking for your husband.

“Hmm, leaving so soon, Lady Stokeworth, and without even gracing me with your beautiful smile or a kind word?”

You take a moment to try and compose yourself before turning to face the Prince Regent. Standing several feet from you, dressed all in black, his long leather doublet is adorned with a gold chain draped across the front, a belt around his trim waist, and the Conqueror's crown atop his silvery head. While the eye patch covers his missing eye, the other's lustful stare is enough to convey his intentions. With an ever-present smirk on his lips, he beckons you towards him with an extended hand.

Taking a deep breath as you approach, you place your smaller hand in his, feeling the roughened skin of his fingers grasp your soft skin. Somehow, despite your shaking legs, you manage to gracefully give him a deep curtsey. Finally meeting his eye, you find your voice to say, “Your Grace.”

Never taking his lilac gaze from you, he leans down, placing a kiss on your hand, letting his lips linger far longer than is proper. He straightens to his full height and tilts his head, never releasing your hand. “You seem upset, my lady,” he comments, his voice low.

His larger hand completely envelops yours, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your smooth skin as he draws you even closer to him. “Tis nothing, your grace. I was just going to look for my husband.”

“Then I will keep the most beautiful lady in the realm company until your dear husband is found,” he insists, while resting his other hand at your waist.

If you close your eyes, the velvety smooth tone of his voice would be soothing, but the way he looks at you—the sharp gleam in his eye and the covetous smile on his pointed lips—is anything but calming. He reminds you of a cunning predator stalking prey, and you are his prey. Knowing you must tread carefully with him, you offer no resistance; even when he leans so close, you can smell the wine on his breath.

“My sweet lady, you’re trembling, and you look like a frightened doe ready to run to safety,” his voice murmured in your ear. “I can assure you, there is no safer place for you than with me.”

Trying to steady your breathing, you can only plead, “Please your grace; this is most improper, and people will get the wrong impression.”

A sharp intake of breath from him hints at his annoyance. “People already know, and I don’t give a shit what they think.” His fingers dig into the flesh of your hip as he hisses, "You distract me to no end; at a time, I cannot afford to be distracted."

Although you are in a room filled with people, you have never felt more alone. You know no one will come to your aid, no matter how obvious your distress is, with the Prince Regent at your side. “If I am such a distraction, perhaps it would be best if I were to be allowed to return to Castle Stokeworth…”

“I forbid it!” his voice angrily raises, loud enough to draw looks from those nearby. Aemond now looms over you, making no effort to hide his ire. “I have been more than patient with you. You will come to me,” he insists, before turning on his heel and stalking off, motioning for the Hand of the King to follow him.

He leaves you standing alone, shaking. Glancing around, you can see everyone staring at you. Lady Rosby looks at you with disappointment on her face. You see your husband off to the side of the room, his brow furrowed and his lips drawn in a thin line, but his expression is unreadable to you. Gathering your skirts, you hastily flee the room, heedless of the people you brush past, needing to be away from the Targaryen court's stares.

By the time you reach your chambers, you are out of breath with tears streaming down your cheeks. Allowing yourself to fall onto your bed, you lay there weeping inconsolably, only rising after a short time when your maid requests entry. Though she is soft-spoken and kind, you don’t feel comfortable showing the depths of your despair around the servants.

After wiping your eyes and trying to put on a brave face, you let her help you out of your dress and into a thin nightdress to help keep you cool on these warm nights. She removes your jewelry and wipes your skin with a damp cloth. The nightly ritual helps to calm you somewhat.

Since you left the dinner early, it is not late at all. You dismiss your maid, letting her have the rest of the evening to herself since you plan to remain in your chambers, perhaps writing a letter to your older sister. She is married herself and now a mother. The two of you have always been close, and maybe confiding in her will help you. You miss your sister and your family dearly. Your family may be a small, minor house, but the faith of the Seven and a steadfastness to always act honorably have been ingrained in you since you were a little girl. Your upbringing was strict and proper for a lady, but other than clinging to your values, you have no idea how to deal with the situation you now find yourself in.

Your marriage was arranged and could hardly be called a love match, but you have no reason to complain. You are not mistreated, and Lord Stokeworth already has children from his first lady wife, who sadly died of an illness. Indeed, little is demanded of you by your husband. You do not share much closeness, and there still remains a formality to your marriage. You make every effort to engage your husband in conversation, asking about his interests, but he is a quiet man who seems content with you being more of an occasional companion than a friend or partner.

You are still deciding if you want to write a letter or try to read when the chamber door opens and your husband enters the room. The stern expression on his face worries you. He, like you, had hoped that the Prince Regent would turn his attention elsewhere.

“I’m sorry. I wanted him to see reason…” You begin before he waves you off with his hand.

Nervously twisting your fingers while you watch your husband pour himself a generous cup of wine, waiting for him to speak. The two of you have surprisingly talked little about the Prince Regent, mostly your repeated promises that you have no intention to dishonor your marriage by giving in to his desires.

“I just spoke with the Prince Regent and his Hand,” he begins after taking a deep drink before forcefully setting the cup down. He remains standing by the table, resting his hands on the surface.

Despite months of marriage, you still find it difficult to read your husband. You can tell he is clearly distressed, but with Prince Regent Aemond or with you, you cannot tell.

“In four days, I am to personally lead my men to join the garrison at Rook’s Rest. The Hand believes that Lord Mooton of Maidenpool will lead a force to try and retake it,” he informs you, his voice hard and bitter. “It will be my responsibility to hold the settlement for the greens.”

Your mind races trying to understand the implications of this. Your husband is not a warrior; his strength lies in administering his lands and supplying food to King’s Landing. It does not take long for the true meaning of this to dawn on you.

“He will send you into battle. Because of me.“ Your heart sinks as you utter those words.

Your husband taps his fingers on the tabletop. “He also said that you could persuade him to change his mind.”

Your mouth gapes open in shock, and a knot of dread forms in the pit of your stomach. "He resorts to this to force me into his bed," you mutter quietly, as a flicker of anger lights within you. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you begin to pace. “There must be a way we can leave King’s Landing.”

Your husband’s head snaps up. “Don’t be ridiculous. There is nowhere we could go where he could not find us, and he would seize my holdings, Castle Stokeworth, and leave me with nothing!” Glaring at you, he continues, “My head would end up on a pike.”

Once again, tears begin to fill your eyes. The thought of your husband being forced to fight and possibly being killed in battle because you choose to honor your marriage vows and remain true to your husband fills you with despair.

“There is only one way to deal with this, and you must do it.”

Now it is your head that snaps up to stare at your husband. “What are you saying?”

Draining his cup of wine before refilling it, he looks at you pointedly and says, “You will go to the Prince Regent, and you will yield to his wishes.”

His words are like a slap to your face, so stunned you are. Feeling tremors throughout your body, you struggle to speak. “You would send me to another man’s bed?” you ask incredulously. “I am your wife, and you tell me to become his whore?”

Sighing, as if exasperated by the subject, he responds sullenly, “I do not care for it either, but I cannot risk my holdings, and I have no wish to die on a battlefield.” Your husband begins unfastening his doublet, walking away from you and towards the door of your chambers. Pausing to turn to you, your husband says, “There is a kingsguard waiting outside the door. It would be best not to keep the Prince Regent waiting; he is expecting you.” The tone of his voice makes it clear that he wishes for no further discussion on the subject.

Your tears are burning your eyes; you can only stammer, “Now? Like this?"

“Serving the realm sometimes means making sacrifices we do not wish to make. I see no other choice in the matter,’ he says resolutely as he opens the door and motions for the kingsguard to enter, instructing, “Please escort Lady Stokeworth to the Prince Regent.”

Shame and panic at being escorted through the Red Keep in your nightdress to be delivered to the Prince Regent threaten to overwhelm you. Anger and dismay that your own husband refuses to stand up for your honor in any way after you have spent weeks and months agonizing over Prince Aemond's advances leave you shaking. Only the lifelong teaching of obedience and your pride prevent you from falling apart completely.

Glancing at the guard, who is managing to keep his expression impassive, you allow yourself a moment to rally your composure. “One moment, please, Ser.” You walk over to a wardrobe that holds many of your clothes, searching until you find a light cloak. After you place it around your shoulders and fasten the clasp at your throat, you turn to follow the guard without another look towards your husband. Your anger is prompting your actions as you refuse to be paraded through the Keep to the Prince Regent in your nightdress for all to see.

The guard leads you part way down the corridor as you once again try to ignore your surroundings by keeping your head down. You are surprised when the guard stops and opens a door that you had never noticed before, so well concealed as part of the wall.

When he senses your hesitation, the guard quietly says, “A private passageway. We will encounter no others along the way, my lady.”

Giving him a nod, you follow him, grateful that at least half of the Keep will not see your shame at being led to the Prince Regent’s chambers. Your stomach is in knots, but strangely, you are not afraid. Your anger at your husband’s surrendering your honor and placing everything else he has above you is steeling you in an odd way. Before long, you exit the passageway, only to find yourself in an empty hallway. The kingsguard knocks on the nearest door, waiting for permission to enter. When you hear the Prince Regent’s voice bidding entry, you take a deep breath and follow him into the chambers.

“Lady Stokeworth, your grace,” announces the guard, turning to leave the room when Prince Aemond nods his head.

Still dressed from dinner, the Prince Regent sits in a chair with his long legs crossed. Though he looks relaxed, he never takes his eye off you and does not speak.

Walking a few paces closer, you give him a small nod, only greeting him with a soft “Your grace,” trying to keep your voice steady and your eyes downcast to avoid his stare.

“You’ve been crying,” he observes, noticing your red-rimmed eyes.

Standing before him, still wearing your cloak to cover your nightdress, you press your lips together before replying, “Yes, it has been a very upsetting evening.”

“It seems as though you have not changed your mind about me, yet here you are.”

Fighting the urge to tear at your fingernails, you ball your hands into fists. “It was decided that there was no choice but to come to you.”

“Decided by you or your husband?” he asks as he uncrosses his legs.

You bite your lip, unable to speak the words; your expression and silence are your answers. 

Finally rising from his seat, Prince Aemond slowly comes to stand before you, reaching out to gently brush the back of his slim finger against your cheek as you try not to flinch away from his touch. “Your husband is weak. "If you were mine, I would fight to the death before I let another man have you," he promises, his voice sounding oddly soft and gentle to you. “I would kill any man who even dared to think of touching you. I would protect you.”

You cannot hold back a slight huff. “Protect me? You have done nothing but torment me.” You try to keep still while Aemond slowly circles around you, staying far too close and resting his large hand on your shoulder. “Why me? I’ve never done anything to give you the impression that I want this.”

Aemond leans in to inhale the scents of the oils you use in your hair and bath, trying to identify the fragrances he finds alluring. “You have tormented my thoughts and dreams since I first saw you, a dazzling jewel that outshines all of the dull rabble that makes up this court.” He continues as he slides his hand over your cloak's clasp at the base of your throat. “Over are the days where I silently watch lesser men being given the things I deserve, things that I desire.”

With those words, he unfastens the clasp of your cloak, letting it fall from your shoulders to puddle around your slippered feet. You feel his body press against your back; his long, slim fingers gently wrap around your throat, forcing your head back to rest against his shoulder. When his arm snakes around your waist, you suck in your breath, and you feel his mouth brush against your ear, finding the spot where he can feel the beating of your heart beneath his lips.

Until you hear his whisper, “Breathe, my sweet,” you don’t realize you have been holding your breath.

“I have imagined this moment so many times and in so many different ways,” he murmurs against your skin. “When I was angry at your resistance, I wanted you on your knees, begging me to fuck you.” He pauses to suck and nips your neck hard enough to be sure it will mark you as his, before soothing the tender spot with flicks of his tongue. “When my impatience threatened to get the better of me, I thought of tearing the clothes from your body, holding you down, and fucking you hard until you screamed.”

You gasp at hearing his vulgar descriptions of what he could do to you and what he has thought about doing to you. His grip on your throat tightens slightly, and you feel his large palm roaming over the curves of your body, with only the thin silken fabric of your nightdress as a barrier to his touch.

But his touch is having an effect on you, despite your wish to remain unmoved by him.

Your head instinctively turns toward Aemond’s face, and he seizes the opportunity to kiss your lips. His kiss is not soft; it is hungry and demanding, with his tongue pushing past your teeth and exploring your mouth. You do not resist, letting him have his way as your hand moves to grip his leather-sleeved arm to steady yourself.

Barely pausing for breath, he maneuvers you so that you are now facing him, wrapping his sinewy arms around you, holding you tightly as he grinds himself against you, while his lips never cease kissing you, only pausing to quickly murmur, “My cock aches for you.”

You can only manage a whispered "Your grace..." before he smothers your words with his lips against yours, then softly growls, "No, use my name."

Your arms have wrapped around his shoulders, your fingers tangling in his long silken hair. Shock that he is stirring feelings inside you that you have never felt before pierces through the haze of your mind. A flash of shame that your body is coming alive with pleasure that you have never felt from your husband’s touch is quickly brushed aside. When you utter his name and begin to return his kisses with equal fervor, he takes it as your accedence to his desires.

Part of your loose gown slips down your arm, exposing more skin for his lips to taste as he trails hot, wet kisses along the contours of your shoulder while allowing him to slip his hand inside, marveling at how your breast fills his large hand.

A soft moan escapes your mouth as he rubs his thumb over your nipple, causing it to stiffen into a firm peak. Your small hand grasps the back of his neck, squeezing the way his hand held your throat. You barely notice when he pushes your gown further down until it slides off your body to join your discarded cloak because he has lowered his lips to your bosom, sucking and teasing your nipple with his mouth while his hand kneads your other breast, rolling your hard, sensitive peak between his long fingers.

"Perfect tits, so beautiful," he murmurs against your skin before flicking his tongue over your nipple. Wonderful sensations spread throughout your body, and warmth pools between your legs as you watch him toy with your breasts.

As thin fingers prod your folds and uncover the moisture that seeps from your cunt, you softly whimper. Your head leans against his chest when he slides two long fingers knuckle deep inside you and teases little circles around your pearl with the calloused pad of his thumb.

"Gods, you're fucking soaked," he grunts in your ear, over the sloppy wet sounds coming from between your legs. “Tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from answering, not willing to shame yourself by uttering the words he wants to hear, but you cannot bring yourself to tell him to stop either. Only your arm around his shoulders and your weight against him hold you up.

With a curse, he abruptly stops, withdraws his hand, and scoops you up in his arms, carrying you over to his bed and dropping you down on top of the covers.

The realization that you are completely naked to his gaze pushes through the fog of your mind, but the sight of him ripping the buckles of his doublet open and tossing it to the floor before he continues to strip himself as naked as you, save his eye patch, keeps you in place. You can’t help but stare at his lithe, muscled body, decorated with patches of fine, pale hair in the center of his chest and between his lean legs, where his hard cock juts out.

"I want to taste your cunt," he said, his voice sounding like a low, strained growl as strong hands yank you closer to him.

Your eyes go wide when he pushes your legs wide apart so he can kneel between them. When you feel his tongue start licking your most private parts, you can’t hold back the soft shriek you make. You're not sure whether it's the sensation or the shock of what he is doing.

Aemond looks up at your face curiously for a second before asking, “Your husband has never done this to you, has he?”

The slight shake of your head with your lips parted in surprise puts a smirk on his face, knowing that he will be the first to taste your dripping cunt. He keeps his eye on you as he places a kiss on your sensitive bud before he starts swirling his tongue around your cunt, loving the expressions on your face.

You try to maintain eye contact, but soon the intensifying sensations have you throwing your head back and biting your lip to keep from moaning out loud. Before long, his alternating licking and sucking have your thighs quivering as a winding tightness deep inside you threatens to snap.

Just as your body is about to experience your release, he takes his mouth from your folds, resting his chin on your thigh. He watches you whimper as tears of frustration threaten to spill from your eyes.

“My dear Lady Stokeworth,” he purrs against your skin. “I wonder, how does your husband fuck you? "Does he just have you lie there with your nightdress pulled up while he ruts into you?"

You feel the burn of his words' accuracy on your skin, but you will not acknowledge them. Forcing yourself up to rest on your elbows to look at him as tears roll from your eyes, you know he sees the truth all over your face.

Between wet kisses on the flesh of your thigh, he murmurs, “Tell me you want me, and I will give you your release and so much more.”

Choking back a sob and looking away from him, you barely whisper a yes, accepting that you want to feel more of the pleasure he can give you—pleasure that your husband does not.

“Look at me,” he demands. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you."

As you struggle with yourself, you feel a long finger slide inside you as a teasing reminder of the pleasure you seek, your need compelling you to give in to his wishes. “Don’t stop…please.”

He inflames your arousal further by flicking your stimulated pearl with his tongue. “You will have to do better than that, my lady. You know what I want to hear; now say it." His voice was a low growl.

As you moan your capitulation, the last shreds of your resistance shatters, leaving you with one last spark of rebellion. "Yes, Aemond. I will be your whore. Please don’t torment me any longer, just fuck me,” your voice trailing into a needy whine as tears flow freely now.

Knowing that he finally has your complete submission, Aemond can't resist one last dig: "Tonight, you finally learn how a real man fucks."

With an arm wrapped around your hip to hold you in place, his mouth descends upon your cunt while pumping two long fingers in and out of your tight walls. Fastening his lips to your bud, he relentlessly licks and sucks like a starving man finally allowed to feast. 

Your back arches from the bolts of pleasure taking over your body as you fist the blanket you lay on. It does not take long for him to bring you back to the edge of delirium, and this time you do not resist, allowing yourself to be swept away when the warm tightness deep inside you snaps. Your peak leaves you whimpering and shuddering, moreso because he does not cease swirling his tongue through your folds, lapping up the sweet juices that flow from you throughout your release.

Panting, you begin to beg, ”Please, too much.” Your hand goes to the top of his silvery head, weakly trying to push him back.

Surprisingly, he does pull back and rise to his feet before joining you on the bed. “I could spend hours tasting you, but I have waited long enough. My cock aches to be inside you.”

When he moves your body as if you were a doll, you compliantly let him. When you manage to open your eyes, he is kneeling between your legs, stroking his long, hard cock as he takes in the vision of you sprawled wantonly on his bed.

Your breath catches at the sight of him now that your tears have stopped. His sharp features, sculpted limbs, and pale skin capture your attention before he presses the reddish weeping tip of his length against your soaking cunt, coating himself in your wetness.

He does not hesitate when he lines his cock with your entrance, thrusting deeply and sheathing himself fully within you with a soft grunt. Pausing for a few seconds to revel in the warm tightness surrounding his cock, his eye stares down, enjoying the sight of your now joined bodies. He slowly withdraws before plunging back in to the hilt, just to savor the image his eye sees.

His size makes you gasp—not from pain, but from a wondrous, stretching fullness that you've never felt before. Instinctively, you spread your legs wider, bend your knees for his slim hips, and arch up to fully receive him.

“Gods, woman, you’re so fucking tight,” he murmurs as he gazes at your body, now completely open to him. With a muffled growl, he takes hold of your arms, allowing one of his strong hands to pin your slender wrists above your head.

As his hard thrusts find a steady rhythm, you feel the palm of his hand moving down your body, pausing to fondle a breast as they bounce from the force of his hips rocking into yours, his heavy stones slapping against your flesh every time he buries himself in you. His cock moves over the bundle of nerves in your walls, pulling soft whimpers from your lips.

He is not fucking you gently; he has waited too long to be gentle. The bed creaks from his forceful thrusts, which fill you again and again. You can see him looming over you, with long strands of hair flowing over his shoulders and sweat glistening on his skin. As he relentlessly fucks you, his curved lips pull back, baring his teeth as his eye roams over your face and body as if trying to commit the sight to memory.

"Ahh, you're taking my cock so well," he murmurs, breathing hard with his own exertion and building pleasure. ‘Fuck, you feel too good.”

You find his praise strangely thrilling, and you strain against his hand gripping your wrists, wanting to cling to him as the nerves inside your walls blaze with each powerful stroke of his cock, but you are only able to writhe helplessly, pinned as you are beneath him as your body rocks with each hard thrust.

The tightening coil of pressure is building deep within you, and when you bite your lip to keep from moaning loudly, he admonishes gruffly, “No, I want to hear you. I want everyone to know that you are mine.”

Finally letting go of your wrists so he can move his hand between your bodies, he finds your swollen bud and starts rubbing with the roughened pads of his fingers, making it impossible to stay quiet.

A strangled cry escapes you as a burst of euphoria races through your body, every nerve coming alive at once, causing you to dig your nails into his fair skin as you cling to him as waves of bliss carry you.

As your own peak washes over you, your walls clench around his cock. His thrusts become more erratic as his own release follows quickly. Giving one final deep stroke, his body shudders as his cock twitches and spurts his seed deep inside you.

Both of you lay together, with more of his weight pressing down on you, hearts pounding and bodies trembling and entwined. His breath is hot against your skin as he nuzzles his nose along your neck while your bodies try to calm.

After a few moments, he rolls to lay beside you, his arm bringing you with him to almost reverse positions, with you now resting on his chest as he holds you tightly. Being so close to him, you begin to notice little details. There is something exotic about the way he smells: masculine scents of smoke and leather, faint hints of sweat mixed with sandalwood and musk. You think it strange that your mind chooses to mull over what he smells like at a time like this, after what you have just done.

“You are not leaving; you will stay with me tonight,” he tells you, his voice soft but making it clear that he will have no argument from you.

He gets his way after both of you rise briefly to clean yourselves. You return to find him standing by his bed, the blankets now turned down, waiting to ensure your return. You discover that he has no qualms about walking about his chambers naked, and he discourages you from retrieving your nightdress from the floor.

Neither of you speak much; both of you seem lost in your thoughts. You have no idea what to say; your mind is filled with conflicting feelings. Your night is spent in his large bed with his warm body stretched out behind you, his arm over your waist, holding you close. Soon, the room is silent, with only the sounds of Aemond’s steady breathing coming from behind you. Because your mind cannot rest, sleep does not come as quickly for you.

You are not upset with the prospect of spending the night in the prince’s bed, for you have no wish to be with your husband right now. Your anger and disappointment are too fresh, but you realize you should not be surprised. You’ve experienced more in a few short hours than in the past months of your marriage. Aemond made you feel wanted and gave you pleasure that you did not know existed—his ardor and prowess are something you do not think your husband is even capable of.

Even this, simply laying together and being held, is new to you. Normally, once your marital relations are finished, you return to your separate beds. Here you feel a warm body against yours, the hairs on his legs against your smooth skin as your limbs entwine.

As his warmth lulls you to sleep, you think that though you may be called the Prince Regent’s whore by the court, you could grow to like being in these chambers.

“Are you ready? We should not keep your husband waiting.” Aemond comes to stand next to you, taking your hand in his. The conqueror’s crown already sits atop his head, and his kingsguard stands by the door.

Returning his smile with one of your own as he places your hand on his arm, you begin your walk to see the men off to battle, including your husband, Lord Stokeworth, leading his compliment of men. You have not seen your husband since you were escorted to the prince’s chambers. The next morning, Aemond ordered your belongings moved to his royal chambers and asked you to remain there.

Since then, the two of you have spent every possible moment together. Aemond has not neglected his duties, but he has returned to you as quickly as he can. You’ve had supper together in his chambers every evening and spent the nights exploring each other’s bodies in his bed and a few other places as well. Since Aemond insisted on showering you with gifts, you've spent your days with dressmakers and jewelers.

You can see the stares and hear the gasps as people part to make way for the Prince Regent, as he escorts you on his arm through the Keep as if you were his queen. No longer will you try to ignore the stares by keeping your eyes downcast, for the man who wears the conqueror’s crown and rides the largest dragon has promised you will be treated with the utmost respect as his lady. Along the way, Lady Rosby catches your eye with a sly smile and nods her head.

This is the first time you have been seen publicly with Aemond since being sent to his bed by your own dear husband. For months, the prince’s attention filled you with shame, and you thought submitting to his desires would devastate you; instead, the opposite happened. Your night with Aemond showed you how a man could make you feel, as well as how cold and empty your marriage was.

Your husband may have sent you to Aemond's bed, but you will gladly stay there by choice and enjoy it for as long as it lasts.

Stepping out of the Keep and into the hazy sunlight, you see a small crowd has gathered, not to wish farewell to men possibly heading off to their deaths in battle but to see the Prince Regent send the husband of his long-sought-after bedmate off to his possible death.

After a short speech from the Hand of the King with words of duty, honor, and glory in battle, the men begin to ride past to start their journey. To your Lord Stokeworth’s credit, he does not even glance at you as he rides past.

You know he believed that by sending you to Aemond, the order sending him to battle would be rescinded, allowing him to continue to serve here in the safety of the Red Keep. He trusted that you would beg Aemond to spare him; you could have, but you didn't.

#aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond hotd #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x female

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Four

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Four: Safety Drills and Clairvoyants

Summary: (Y/N) and Saiki perform a safety drill, and Saiki has to make sure his friends don't get tricked by a fake psychic.

            “Listen up, everyone! There’ll be an evacuation drill today!” announced Hairo.

            “Evacuation drill, huh?”

            “Ha! I’ll be fine. I don’t need to rehearse,” said Nendou.

            “Yes, he does,” whispered (Y/N), leaning over to Saiki. “Yesterday, he walked into the first-year hall and thought it was ours.” They grinned cheekily.

            Saiki sighed. “Of course, he did.”

            “Nendou, you shouldn’t take the drill so lightly,” warned Hairo. “Take a fire, for example! You’re surrounded by hot flames. The smoke makes it hard to see. You have trouble breathing! Now, what’re you gonna do in such a hot and hostile environment?! Can you make a level-headed decision in that situation when you didn’t even bother to participate in the drill?! Preparedness always pays off!”

            “You’re as hot and suffocating as a fire,” said Saiki.

            “Fires are great for making s’mores on a summer night,” said (Y/N), thinking aloud.

            They wouldn’t survive a fire, either, would they? The psychic sighed. For all (Y/N)’s good sense, they lacked it at some critical moments. Yare yare. They’re all so troublesome.

            “Anyway, when the fire alarm goes off, follow the instructions and evacuate to the schoolyard,” said Hairo. He was acting much calmer than he had been a few seconds ago. “This is a mnemonic created by using the initials for the important considerations during an evacuation. ‘SOS.’ ”

            If I remember correctly, it stands for “Slow, Orderly, and Silent.”

            (Y/N) brightened. “I was right earlier! ‘S’mores On Summer nights.’ ”

            Saiki deadpanned even more than usual. That’s not even close.

            “Oh, I get it!” piped up Nendou. “ ‘Save Our Selves!’ ”

            “That can’t be right!” protested (Y/N).

            Do they remember what it actually means?

            “We should Save Others before Snacks!”

            Well, at least they have good intentions…

            “Well, I suppose, but…” said Hairo.

            “Then, it must be ‘Someone! Over here! Save me!’ ” said Nendou.

            “Do it yourself,” said Saiki.

            Kaidou laughed derisively (acting dramatic as usual). “You’re stupid as ever.”

            “What?! Do you know what it means?” questioned Nendou.

            “Hmph, of course, I do,” declared Kaidou confidently.

            “What? Is it ‘Save Others with Superpowers?’ ” laughed (Y/N), obviously joking.

            Nendou laughed. “Good one, pinky.”

            “No! It’s ‘Scorching Oblivion Smackdown!’ ” said Kaidou.

            Everyone was silent.

            “I was just kidding,” said Kaidou, backpedaling quickly. “It stands for ‘Slow, Orderly, and Silent.’ ”

            “Yes, that’s right,” said Hairo. “So everyone, please remember SOS when you are participating in the drill.”

            The PA system turned on. “A fire broke out in the science room on the first floor. Please evacuate.” The fire alarm began to ring.

            “The sound of fire alarms makes me panic,” said Teruhashi.

            “This is important. We should pay attention,” said Saiki.

            “Fire, you need to Stay calm. Open your bag and take out your safety hood, then Stand in line in order of your student number,” explained Hairo.

            (Y/N) walked over and picked their hood up. Since the buttons were directly under their chin, they fumbled with them. Sighing, Saiki walked over and buttoned it correctly. (Well, really he held his hands up and the buttons did themselves, but it was still Saiki making them do so. It counted).

            “Thanks, Saiki!” chirped (Y/N). Their heart fluttered at his help, and they smiled widely.

            “Yare yare. It’s just for helping at the sports festival,” said Saiki, looking away. He didn’t like being in debt to anyone, so helping with buttons would even out the food thing. That was all.

            “Oh, no,” said Teruhashi, frowning down at her hood. “I can’t figure out my buttons.” Saiki will see me in trouble and help! Then I’ll thank him, and he’ll say “Oh, wow!”

            Not happening.

            A swarm of boys jumped to Teruhashi’s side. “We’ll help you, Teruhashi!”

            “We shouldn’t wait around here! The fire could spread,” warned Hairo.

            “If you spend too much time helping me, you guys will…” Teruhashi gasped dramatically and softened her eyes thankfully.

            “She’s right! What is your guys’ plan?” asked Hairo.

            “Sacrifice Ourselves to Save her,” declared the boys.

            “I-I see,” said Hairo.

            Saying nary a word they’d Offer me their help. They’re my love Slaves. Teehee, thought Teruhashi.

            Class 3 lined up by the door and began exiting.

            “Okay! Let’s start evacuating,” ordered Hairo.

            “Oh, shoot, I left my phone in class,” said Tadashi. He began to turn around, but Hairo interceded.

            “Stop, Tadashi! You’re Out of line, Stay in place,” commanded the class rep.

            “He’s trying too hard.”

            “Mhm,” hummed (Y/N), chewing on a snack.

            Saiki almost deadpanned more than usual. They had marshmallows with them. No wonder they kept thinking about s’mores. “I feel like I’m hearing SOS in almost everything now.”

            “That’s a Strange Occurrence, Saiki,” said (Y/N).

            “See? What did I tell you?”

            (Y/N) blinked before smiling. “Whoa, you’re So Observant, Saiki.”

            “Stop it, guys. Obviously a fire drill doesn’t have time for Stupid quarrels,” said Kaidou to Hairo and Tadashi.

            “Right! Great call, Kaidou!” said Hairo. “Let’s continue down the stairs! We’re almost there!” He stopped at the first floor. “What?!” The way was blocked. “Stop! The path leading Outside has been Shuttered?!”

            “Seriously? Come On. We’d be Screwed if this wasn’t a drill,” muttered the discontent students.

            “I wonder if the shutter was closed by mistake,” said Teruhashi.

            “I think it’s because this goes by the science room,” pointed out (Y/N), still munching marshmallows.

            Saiki nodded. How do they manage to be so observant and clueless at the same time?

            “Stay calm. Obviously, there’s gotta be a Solution,” said Hairo. “A solution?” He became serious and introspective. “I see…I now understand the point of this shutter!”

            “I think he finally figured it out, too,” said Saiki.

            “We’re being tested! This is an obstacle!” declared the redhead. “During a fire, Sometimes Obstacles Stance in our way! In other words, to move forward, we must break through this shutter!”

            “Isn’t it made to be tough to break?” asked (Y/N), tilting their head.

            Excepting Saiki, the boys weren’t listening. “Alright then! Let’s break that shuttle!” The grabbed a fire extinguisher and a desk to throw at the barrier.

            “In a real fire, they’d be the first to go,” said Saiki. He glanced over at (Y/N) and their marshmallows. “You might be next.”

            They were blissfully unaware of his comment and just held out a sweet treat to him. “Want one?”

            “…Yes.” Coffee jelly may be his favorite snack, but he liked other sweets, too. Alright, so maybe I’d save you since you bring me dessert.

            Finally, Hairo, Nendou, and Kaidou managed to open a corner of the shutter and let the students pass through. Mr. Matsuzaki was waiting on the other side.

            “So…You wrenched open the shutter and escaped through the front entrance,” observed the gym teacher. “I see…Who would break a shutter?! We just installed it! Are you Simpletons Out of your minds? Do you know what it costs to repair a Shutter?!”

            “We’re sorry!” apologized the boys.

            Geez…This is why I told them…Ah, I guess I didn’t tell them directly. Well, this school doesn’t need an evacuation drill to start with, though. Because…So long as I’m around, Ordeals such as fire Simply will not happen.

            Yare yare. Now I’m doing it.

l

            Throughout the town, the news of the House of Fortune Telling was spreading like wildfire. Apparently, a skilled clairvoyant worked there. People were loving what she said. Whether or not she was correct in her predictions was still unknown, but people kept on going to her, especially curious teenagers.

            “Hmph. How stupid. Fortune-telling is just an illusion created by a bunch of people who pretend to be prophets,” said Kaidou.

            “Wow, it’s pretty rare that you and I agree on something,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) nodded. “I find it hard to believe someone who can actually see the future isn’t being sought out by governments.” They grinned. “But I’m going this afternoon, anyways. I’m curious about what she’ll say, even if it is totally made up. It’ll be fun.”

            “Well, forget that,” said Kaidou, “I have something more important to discuss with you two. Come with me after school today. Have you noticed? I sense a strange aura being given off in this town. I think Dark Reunion is behind it.”

            “Whatever floats your boat,” said (Y/N), “And I already have plans.”

            “That’s just an illusion you created,” said Saiki to Kaidou.

            Saddened, Kaidou walked away. Nendou popped up beside Saiki and (Y/N).

            “Pal, pinky! Have you heard? There’s a fortune-telling shop nearby,” said Nendou.

            “It’s ‘House of Fortune Telling.’ I’m tired of hearing about it already.”

            “Yeah, I know!” chirped (Y/N). “I’m going to check it out later today, ya know, for curiosity’s sake!”

            Looks like I’ll be making sure my friends bothers don’t make bad decisions today.

            If Saiki was being at all observant of his own actions, he’d notice that as soon as (Y/N) was involved, he was way more willing to wade into irritating situations to keep track of his friends. Acquaintances. (Friends).

l

            Saiki, invisible to all, sighed and followed (Y/N) inside the House of Fortune Telling. Kaidou was with them because they had spotted him “in disguise” in line. The inside was made to look like a stereotypical psychic’s shop with a crystal ball, shimmery drapes, lows lights, the whole nine yards.

            “Welcome to the House of Fortune. Please have a seat,” said the fortune teller.

            “O-Okay,” said Kaidou.

            “Alright,” said (Y/N).

            They both sat down.

            “I’m Mikiko Clairvoyance. Nice to meet you,” said the lady.

            (Y/N) tilted their head in confusion at her name. That feels way too on the nose. Like a stage name.

            “On what matter would you like advice today?” asked Mikiko.

            “Umm,” said Kaidou.

            I see. They seem half in doubt, too.

            “Oh, my…I sense a very unusual aura from you, young man!” said Mikiko.

            “What?!” gasped Kaidou.

            “You’re no ordinary person, are you,” asked Mikiko slyly. “Do you have special gifts?”

            (Y/N) watched the proceedings in amusement.

            “And you!” Mikiko turned to the teenager.

            “Me?” (Y/N) pointed to themself.

            “Yes! You’re quite important to someone with gifts, aren’t you?!” questioned the clairvoyant dramatically.

            (Y/N) shrugged and laughed. “Sorry, ma’am, you got the wrong person.” They brushed her off without a second thought. There weren’t many people they wanted to be important to, and having gifts didn’t go into it. Plus, the list wasn’t that long. Their friends, family, Saiki.

            But Saiki’s a friend, so there we go, thought (Y/N) decidedly, brushing the way their mind separated him from everyone else away.

            Wait…important to someone with gifts?! thought Kaidou. Does that mean…me?! A sudden blush overtook his cheeks as he looked at (Y/N).

            Oh, wow. Saiki frowned slightly. He was more annoyed than usual as he saw Kaidou, even though he was just confused, get all flustered because of (Y/N). It just felt so…troublesome

            “Ah…well, perhaps you’re just not aware of it!” covered Mikiko expertly. Not a good target. I should focus on the boy. She turned quickly to Kaidou. “You’re troubled by something! Am I wrong?!”

            “How did you know that?!” gasped Kaidou.

            People without troubles wouldn’t come to a place like this.

            “Let me tell you what it is…” Mikiko carefully gaged what her predictions should be by watching Kaidou’s reactions. “A problem with romance…is not what it is, so an issue with your future and schoolwork…isn’t what’s troubling you, either. So it’s something to do with your friends and relationships!” She nailed it on the third try. “Yes! Your source of trouble is one friends and relationships!”

            “H-How do you know that?!” stammered Kaidou.

            You make it too easy.

            “Most teenagers have that problem,” whispered (Y/N) to Kaidou, but he paid them no mind.

            “Yeah, you’re right. That is the source of my troubles,” said the blue-haired boy. “I’m an assassin known as the Jet-Black Wings who came from a parallel world.”

            (Y/N) sweat-dropped.

            What is he talking about? thought Mikiko.

            I ask myself that question every day.

            “But after I learned the truth about the organization…” rambled Kaidou.

            Mikiko nodded. “I understand.”

            “I’m used to fighting.” Kaidou clenched his fist. “But sometimes I think about my life…I live in solitude…I don’t have anything I can call frie—I mean, comrade.”

            “Aww, I’ll be your friend!” chirped (Y/N), leaning affectionately towards him.

            “A-Ah!” Kaidou squeaked and blushed.

            Saiki’s eyebrow twitched. (Y/N) was too nice for their own good, and Saiki didn’t need Kaidou having any misguided feelings for them. That would be complicated. That was the trouble. Obviously.

            In an attempt to keep his attention, Mikiko said, “But he needs someone to completely understand him! You need a new approach. You should try to understand others.”

            Oh, so she says some decent things, too. Maybe I misjudged her.

            “Also, this will help.” She opened a box which held necklace. “You’ll be fine if you wear this necklace.

            “What’s that?” asked (Y/N).

            “If you wear this, you’ll be able to make friends with one hundred people and with Kento Yamazaki!” explained Mikiko. “If you buy now, I’m willing to offer you the low price of thirty-thousand yen.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and their jaw dropped open.

            “Thirty-thousand yen?!” cried Kaidou. “I-I’ll buy it! But I want to know one thing first. Will this make me friends with Saiki?!”

            A soft smile spread across (Y/N)’s face. “Aww, Kaidou…”

            “If you wear it, that Saiki guy will follow you around saying, ‘Hey, pal,’ ” said Mikiko.

            (Y/N) blanked. “Huh?” There was no way that was happening. Plus, that was Nendou’s line.

            “I-I’ll buy it!” declared Kaidou. He paid without hesitation.

            “Well, well, good luck, now I must see other customers!” Mikiko rushed them out the door to the street. “Next person! Please come in.”

            Kaidou regarded the necklace happily as he walked down the street with (Y/N).

            “If nothing else, it’s…pretty,” said (Y/N). They weren’t sure it would work.

            “Kaidou!”

            Both teens turned around. Kaidou was excited to have his first friend while (Y/N) was just surprised that the necklace might actually do something. They were both let down because it was just Mikiko.

            “I’m giving this back! I had no idea what you were saying was true!” she cried. She shoved Kaidou’s money back into his hands.

            “What? Then what about the necklace?” asked Kaidou.

            “You can have it! I bought it at a street stall for five-hundred yen!” she shouted as she ran.

            “What?!” cried Kaidou, realizing the necklace wasn’t magical.

            (Y/N) patted his back. “Sorry. At least you got your money back. And don’t worry, you’ve already got one friend. Me!” They beamed radiantly.

            “Oh!”

            The pair turned after hearing Nendou’s voice. He had just run into Saiki.

            “Oh, hey, pal! Oh, and you, too, runt, pinky?” asked Nendou.

            Kaidou’s eyes widened. Three of the people he was closest to were suddenly all around him. He gazed in wonder at the trinket in his hands. “So this necklace really is…”

            Saiki sighed.

            (Y/N) grinned. “No, no, Kaidou. Can’t you see? We’re already your friends!”

            Kaidou blushed. “A-Ah! R-Right!”

            Saiki was torn between being annoyed at Kaidou’s flustered state and enjoying how kind (Y/N) was. Those two annoy me, but you—he looked at (Y/N)—I can tolerate you.

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#a not so disastrous romance #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo #saiki kusou no psi nan #saiki #kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #kusuo x reader #kus #kusuo saiki x reader

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (4/?)

Word Count: 2,270

Chapter 4

"Meet me on your best behavior, meet me at your worst…" - Death Cab for Cutie

Wondering who-the-fuck-in-Hell would be there knocking this late at night; Lucifer opened his door. Seeing that it was, in fact, Alastor standing at his threshold with a seemingly pleasant smile across his face; Lucifer immediately bristled.

“What in fuck’s – wait. Is that wine?” Lucifer peered behind Alastor’s waist; seeing his separated shadow clasping a large bottle of Riesling and a pair of wine glasses.

“Yes. I thought it might pair well with our…discussions. May I?” Alastor asked him, politely.

“…yeah, ok.” Lucifer stepped aside; letting him in.

Alastor stepped inside; his shadow following close behind. The shadow paused briefly beside Lucifer; offering him the bottle. Lucifer took it, and the shadow swept further inward to be closer to Alastor. Looking at the label; Lucifer closed the door.

“Where in Hell did you get this!?”

“I don’t just deal in souls; your grace.” Alastor told him. “And I’m rather partial to a rare vintage every now and again. This one has been made ready for us to enjoy.”

“No shit. Damn.” Lucifer led him to a small suite; directing him and his shadow to some plush chairs and an ornate table for them to recline by. There were less rubber ducks and circus trinkets scattered throughout here than were piled in his work-room. Alastor didn’t seem to pay much attention to the surrounding room though; his gaze never straying across items, walls, furniture, etc. He was very focused on his business here.

Alastor’s shadow; taking the bottle from Lucifer – opened it and began pouring wine into the two glasses. Alastor and Lucifer both sat down. Lucifer reached across for his wine glass; then leaning back he asked:

“So…what the fuck do you want to talk about?”

“I’m sure you are well aware of the subject matter that I wish to address with you tonight.” Alastor said; taking his own glass from the table and gently swirling the liquid. His shadow excused itself into a dark corner nearby.

“Hm…how forthright of you. You seem to be in a more…agreeable…mood tonight than you were yesterday.”

“The extermination is merely a couple months away…I had hoped that I might avoid having to address my…“rut” until sometime after, but I’m afraid that won’t be the case.” Alastor explained. “I’d like to discuss the best…approach to the problem; if you are so inclined.”

“Uh, huh.” Lucifer said dismissively. “So, what exactly are we discussing then?”

“I’m afraid that the effects of the cycle will greatly influence my duties in safeguarding Charlie and the hotel. During that time, I won’t be getting much sleep and –“

“Do you actually sleep?” Lucifer interrupted, prodding him.

“Yes.” Alastor answered him honestly. “Maybe not as much as most but I do require a reasonable amount.”    

 “I must have really taken the wind out of your sails.” Lucifer tipped his glass to his lips. “I didn’t anticipate you coming here and being so candid with me.”

“Yes, well, I can admit when I’ve made an ass of myself.” Alastor allowed.

Knowing this was as close to an apology as he was liable to get; Lucifer stated: “Well, I won’t say that I’m sorry. If anything, I think I should have gutted you sooner.”

Lucifer waited for Alastor to make a quip at that but then; he said nothing. Instead, he raised his own glass to sip from – offering no comment.

Interesting.

“Ok, so I assume you are wanting to formulate some plan going forward, is that it?” Lucifer clarified.

“Indeed. Initially, I preferred the idea of you safely displacing me from the hotel until I cycled out but, the timing is not ideal. There’s too much to be done and I don’t like the idea of leaving the hotel unguarded for any extended length of time.”

“Ah, lock you away in a tower just like you’re Rapunzel and I’m the dragon.” Lucifer japed; unable to help himself.

“I don’t recall a dragon in that particular fairy tale.” Alastor remarked.

Lucifer nearly choked on his wine. “The fuck do you know about fairy tales!?”

Alastor shrugged then waved him off; “Essentially…I suppose, but it’s not a good solution; not now.”

“Oh?” Lucifer absently traced a sharp claw around the rim of his wine glass. “How long do these things usually last for you, anyway?”

“You are somewhat familiar with Cervidae demons, yes? You’ve commented on it once before. We are commonly known for our deer-like tendencies. One very prominent one being that we experience fluctuating periods of cyclic mating periods or “the rut”. There’s a lot that gets rather muddled with it though; it’s confusing even for us demons that experience it because each and every individual is different in the timing, frequency or intensity of their own personal mating cycles.”

“Sounds frustrating.” Lucifer offered.

“It…is. I never know when a rut will happen or for how long. I can usually tell when one is approaching due to certain…changes. Even now though; I know one is coming I just don’t know when. I could start the cycle tomorrow or in a couple of weeks; it’s terribly inconvenient. Judging by personal experience; my cycles range anywhere from part of a day to several weeks. Unfortunately; avoidance is what lengthens the period. If I…sate, the need and rather quickly, the period tends to be much less.”

“So what if I contact Asmodeus? I’m sure we could find you some willing participant from the lust ring to fulfill whatever needs you need satiating.” Lucifer suggested. “He might even have another Cervidae in mind.”

Alastor shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with that. I assume when you offered and agreed to our deal that it was implied that you would be the actual one to…manage this. I’m afraid now it might have to be quite literal. Lilith wasn’t wrong in saying that I’ve killed other demons during my rutting. After your explicit demonstration yesterday; I am confident you would be well equipped in governing my actions.”

 “Honestly, I meant it in whatever way you wish to take it. I’m no prude.” Lucifer shrugged; tipping his glass. “While we’re on the subject though; I’d really like to know –“

“If you are referring to my moment of sexual homicidal infamy; I’d rather not discuss it.”

Lucifer very much wanted to prod more into it; but, he could see that Alastor was making a great effort here in being professionally courteous. Which led him to his next question;

“So, what exactly is your deal with all of this?” Lucifer asked him; setting his wine glass down now. “You’re here pitching off your plans to me like we’re discussing something terribly unpleasant. I get that you might think sex is beneath you; or rather you’d prefer you didn’t need it but, c’mon…if you have to go through it anyway, why not own it and enjoy it?”

“You misunderstand. It’s not my perception of sex that has anything to do with it.” Alastor told him. “I simply don’t…care for it.”

“What?”

“Apart from when I am in rut; it holds no interest to me.”   

“None? Whatsoever, just….nothing?” Lucifer gaped at him.

“Truly.”

“So, you just can’t get it up unless you are in one of your rut thingy’s?” Lucifer was trying to make sense of this.  

“Not exactly…” Alastor huffed. “With enough effort; stimulation and finding the right mindset – sure…but, it doesn’t just happen. It’s really and truly something I don’t care to think about or pursue, otherwise.”

“I can’t…I can’t wrap my head around that. I mean I-I could fuck anything that moves. Not that I really would but, well…you know.” Lucifer shrugged.

“No…actually, I don’t.” Alastor reaffirmed.

“So, do you – do you like know what you want to actually like…do?” Lucifer asked him.

“How do you mean?” Alastor’s ears slightly leant back; whether it was him being uncomfortable by the question or a display of true confusion; Lucifer couldn’t tell.

“Mutual masturbation? Oral? Anal? What have you?” Lucifer threw out.

Alastor’s ears stiffened; pressing further back. Definitely discomfort.   

“When I’m in in rut; I’m sure anything and everything will be open and on the table.” He sighed.

“So do you like, turn into an even bigger asshole when your rutting?”

“No, not quite…that more tends to happen to the time leading up to it.” Alastor was telling him; briefly remembering his friend Rosie dismissing him from a brunch they were having in Cannibal Town once telling him: “come back after your damn rut; honestly, you’re worse than a woman!” He couldn’t remember details; only that he was terribly aggravating to her that day.

Meanwhile; Lucifer was waging an internal battle. So, you were PMS-ing yesterday? He very badly wanted to say it…he very nearly did, but he reigned it in; feeling it prudent to continue with the good footing they had established here.

“It’s more that I’m…” Alastor was continuing with his answer. “I’m just – Well, I can be a lot in those moments.”

The Radio Demon promises a good time… Lucifer thought, then he asked:

“Ok, so circling back. When or where are we going to…hash this all out?”

“I’m naturally crepuscular; and I’m generally more nocturnal in my activities. I can easily manage myself during the day. If we spend too much time at the hotel; even in my radio tower – we run the risk of being found out or discovered. If I spend too much time here or elsewhere; it leaves the hotel vulnerable. I propose we go back and forth; it won’t be so different to my normal activities – no one would think to question it at this point – and I have Niffty and Husker established so that if anything were to happen while I’m away; I’d know and can be there almost immediately.”

“Hm…yes, that might be wise. We can always tell Charlie that you and I buried the hatchet, as it were, and are meeting to discuss ideas with how best to proceed with the upcoming exterminations. She’ll wish to be included – of course – but if I tell her it’s something you and I are bonding or getting to know each other over; she’ll let it be.”   

“How…very manipulative of you.” Alastor commented; ears perking up. He was…impressed.

“Yes, well…” Lucifer reached back for his wine; lost for a moment in his thoughts. Then leaning back in his chair again; he offered:

“You’ve been very…frank with everything tonight. Do you have any questions you wish to ask me?”

“This meeting Charlie has with Heaven…do you think it will accomplish anything?” Alastor had in fact; been holding onto some questions.

“No.” Lucifer told him bluntly. “I don’t but, Lilith foresaw Charlie asking me to arrange it. I’m not…comfortable with it but Lilith will be there – Charlie won’t know that, of course – but it’s the only reason why I’d allow my daughter to go up there without my being there with her.”

“Do you think Lilith will succeed with her plans?” Alastor asked him, wanting to know. “Do you think that she can actually overthrow Heaven?”  

“If anyone; it would be her.” Lucifer finished off his glass; Alastor’s shadow quickly slid out from the corner to refill it for him. Lucifer nodded to it, taking a sip as it shifted itself back away. “She’s been planning this for some time now, making sure everything falls into just the right place at just the right time. The only hiccup we’ve ran into was you slipping yourself between the cracks but maybe that was fortunate for us – it remains to be seen.” He gave Alastor a hard look.

“If I get what I want from this, I’ll be as beneficial to your cause as I possibly can.” Alastor told him. “But, why are you choosing to do this? Weren’t you amiable toward Heaven; even after everything?”

Lucifer sighed. “Lilith has been with me through all of it…since the beginning. I’ve tried to make the amends to my mistakes; tried to make Heaven see that what we did…it wasn’t for the intentions that they thought. I’ve been fighting a losing battle for thousands upon thousands of years…Lilith stood by me; supported me all that time. Now, it’s time I stood by hers. We got nowhere with my plans and ideas for our future; so it’s time I supported hers.”

“How disgustingly devoted of you.” Alastor made a face and movement of his tongue; like he had actually tasted something terrible.

Lucifer laughed. “That’s just who we are. We depend and rely on each other.”

“So…she really has no issues with…this? What you and I are going to be doing?” Alastor asked him; wondering. “Call me ‘old fashioned’; but I’d hate to come between a man and his wife.”

“Lilith never would have agreed to it if she had reservations.” Lucifer told him. “She wasn’t lying when she told you that our relationship has been…unconventional, at times.”

“Hm…” Alastor remembered his wine and sipped from the glass.

“How long has it been for you anyway?” Lucifer asked him. “I’ll be coming out of a bit of dry spell myself; Lilith tends to get focused on other things when they’ve claimed her interest and I haven’t found much motivation in seeking out an outlet.”

“Years?” Alastor though. “Very nearly a decade, maybe.”

“Fuck.” Lucifer blurted. “You’ve got me beat then. You weren’t kidding when you said these mating cycles of yours were unpredictable.”

“Also part of the reason that I’m relying on you…specifically. I’m not sure just how…enthusiastic I might be.”

“So, how will I know that you are in rut?” Lucifer questioned him.

“Oh, don’t worry – my King.” Alastor fixed him with a sharp gaze. “You will know.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Scene inspired by: @applepartysins fanart/comic here

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #alastor #fanfiction #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #my fanfic #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #alastor and lucifer #alastor x lucifer #lucifer x alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #radioapple #lucifer hazbin hotel #appleradio #alastor's shadow

[sofiaruelle]

Ugh younger siblings am i right??? 🙄 🙄 🙄

#doodle #stardew valley #stardew sebastian #stardew valley maru #hope yall caught the Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse reference #she’s just trying to help #he should pay attention to his surroundings more #can 20+ year olds still be grounded? lmao #is this sebastian’s 13th reason why he wants to leave for zuzu city? #look we all know maru wouldnt accidentally set Seb’s bike on fire #but like as an older sis who has a younger bro who accidentally messes up when they get a little too eager to help..

[leatherbookmark]

our flag means death S2E3: the innkeeper

#our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers #shrimp gifs #it was just a very pretty scene i think #i'm laughing because i played around with curves -- as you do -- but then i had to manually bring the brightness down and make everything #more blue again because it's just better that way lol #god i'm having... so many little marbles bouncing around my head like #this post is already tagged with all the spoiler tags i think i can talk in here #the way it started i had No Inkling At All that this would be this kind of setting. so i didn't pay attention to the surroundings or all th #stuff. hell i could barely hear what they're saying because all my fancy schmancy english skills fall apart in the face of your normal soun #mixing. I MISSED THAT IZ AND ED SAID “LOVE” LIKE HELLO #but. but anyway. but. but once it was revealed that This Is All In Ed's Head. that hornigold is ed and everything is ed. man. god. #it's cold and wet and dark (ed likes warmth). ed was washed up on the shore with his face full of sand but THEN he got rescued by someone #who he hated and associated with all the pain and violence AND who then force-fed him soup so he could get better. who had pretty pieces of #glass hanging from his tent (there's no sun but the decoration itself is a promise of a pretty sighs when the rays of the sun hit #just right--) AND you can't forget the sandals. and the play-acting and aoughhhh EEEDDDDDDDD god he's so good HE'S SO GOOD #i dont think i should touch the delightful revenge scenes because they're dark as fuck and idk if the files i have are hq enough #to survive the becurvening. BUT. ed my love!!! i hope this is not where your insanities end

[drudyslut]

— summary: rafe cameron falls for the preachers daughter.

— warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, hand riding for like a second, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), soft!dom!rafe, innocent!naïve!reader, i think that’s it.

— note: this request was amazing. i love love rafe & innocent!reader, it makes me feel some type of way 🥹 this is kind of a long one, enjoy<3 likes, comments and reblogs are SO appreciated!!

❥ preachers daughter— r.c

Rafe wasn’t sure when his obsession with her started, all he knew was that he wanted her, wanted to ruin her.

He remembers the first time he had ever saw her, it was an early Sunday morning, his father had decided to drag him to Sunday morning service, something Rafe had never imagined himself going to…

… But man, was he glad he did.

He remembered every small detail about her from that morning. She was wearing a long green, floral dress that fell well past her knees, she had a white sweater pulled over her upper half, and a pair of beige strappy heels. Her hair had been done in loose curls, a soft white bow tying it up into a low ponytail, making Rafe blush at the innocence that emitted from her.

The smile that graced her beautiful lips had made Rafe grow painfully hard, having to excuse himself to the restroom to readjust himself.

Rafe had pushed her into the back of his mind though, knowing that a woman like her would never be with a man like him.

She was his polar opposite; pure, kind, without any obvious flaws. Whereas Rafe was impure, violent, and covered in issues from head to toe.. You could thank his father for that.

Rafe knew he didn’t stand a chance, so why, and when, did his obsession with her begin? Why had he caught himself following her around town, watching her every move? Why had he found a way to place a tracking device on her car, his possessive need to know where she was at all times pushing him to do such a crazy thing.

Why had he found himself beating the shit out of any man he’d seen talk to her? Why did he care so much? She didn’t even know he existed, yet, he found himself quite literally stalking her, obsessing over her, vowing to himself that he would protect her at any and all cost.

-

Rafe had continued following her for months before he had finally decided to make his move on her. He’d quickly picked up on her schedule, learned all of her favorite places to shop, eat, where she loved to do her Bible studies.

After six months of constantly following her and learning all he needed to know about her, he had decided it was finally time for him to make his move, make her his.

He was parked outside of the small coffee shop she frequented regularly, watching as she sat at a table, flipping through the pages of her notebook, taking small sips of her coffee order.

He loved that she was completely oblivious of the man who had been watching her for months, in his mind it proved that she did need him in her life, she needed him to take care of her, protect her, teach her to be more aware of her surroundings.

Rafe’s head snaps up when he sees her stand from her spot, gathering her books and pens, pushing her chair in and making her way to the front door.

He quickly hops from his truck, rushing across the street, his plan to make a move being set in motion.

She pushes the door to the coffee shop open, her head hung low as she stepped through the threshold, making it easy for Rafe to step in her way, lightly bumping her and causing her head to snap up.

“Oh, i’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention”

Her face is flushed red, her voice soft, angelic.

The corners of Rafe’s lips quirk up slightly, a small smile on his face as he looks down at her small figure.

“Not a problem, I should have said something. I’m Rafe, and you are?”

He extends his hand out for her to take, to which she quickly complies, placing her small hand in his.

He places a soft kiss to the back of her hand, her breath catching in her throat at the action. She wasn’t sure what to think of the man in front of her, she’d never been greeted like that by anyone.

“I-I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you, Rafe”

“Y/L/N? As in Pastor Y/L/N?” Rafe asks, his eyebrow quirked up as he played his part well.

She smiles, her eyes sparkling at the mention of her father. He attends her church? Why had she never seen him before now?

“Yeah, that’s my dad! You go to our church?”

Rafe chuckles, an amused smirk laid on his lips, “Yeah, sometimes. My dad started making me go a few months ago, i’m surprised we haven’t run into each other before now”

He feels himself growing painfully hard when he hears the angelic laugh that falls from her pretty mouth, her eyes lit up as she carefully pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Church not really your thing?” She asks, her lower lip brought between her teeth as she smiled up at him.

“Not really, but hey, your father sure knows how to get you into it huh?”

She shifts herself on her feet, readjusting her books in her hands, “Yeah he’s great, he loves what he does”

Rafe notices the large books in her arms, how she continues to shift and adjust them. “Want me to grab those for you?”

She glances down at the books in her arms, and back up at Rafe, his bright blue eyes making butterflies erupt in her stomach, “Uh, sure. Thanks” She smiles, handing him the books and looking toward the ground.

“You wanna ride home?”

She pauses for a moment, her mind drawing a blank as her palms became clammy. Why she was so nervous? She wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because he was making her feel things she knew was wrong, maybe it was because she knew better than to get involved with a man without her father’s permission, but something about him made her want to take the risk, break her own rules.

“Sure, that’d be nice. Thank you”

And just like that, Rafe’s plan was falling into place. He had gotten her attention, gotten her to trust him so easily. He loved how naïve she was, how innocent she was, and as much as he’d love to take it slow with her, he felt he’d taken it slow enough, waiting, watching, protecting her for months, even if she didn’t know it.

He had to have a taste of her, had to break her of her innocence, and he needed to do it now. He needed her to be his, and only his.

-

Everything had began moving quickly, Rafe had driven her to his house instead of hers, his lips finding hers in an instant, pulling her from the passenger seat and into his lap.

She was unconsciously grinding herself over his bulge, her hands running over his buzzed hair, his hands tightly gripping at her hips as his tongue explored her mouth.

Her breathing was ragged, hands trembling as she continued pressing herself into him. She wasn’t sure what she was doing or why, it was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so right.

“Rafe” she tries to speak, her words being swallowed by him. He presses his hand flat against her lower back, pushing her further into him as he continues his assault on her mouth.

She plants her palms on his chest, pushing herself back, her back pressed firmly against his steering wheel.

She runs a hand through her hair, her eyes slightly welled up with tears as she tries to calm her breathing.

“This- This is wrong. We don’t even know each other, we- I’m not supposed to have sex until I’m married, I can’t- We can’t-“

Rafe shushes her softly, his thumb running across her bottom lip as his blue eyes burn into her, “Shh, Shh. It’s okay, angel. There’s nothing wrong with this, trust me?”

She sighs, resting her head on his chest, the tears that had fallen from her eyes soaking the fabric of his shirt.

“I-I trust you, but- But this isn’t right, Rafe”

Rafe runs his hand down her side, placing it on her clothed thigh and squeezing lightly, pulling a small squeal from her lips.

“What isn’t right about it? I can teach you things, make you feel things, I promise you’ll love it”

Rafe had his mind set, he was prepared to break her, and he didn’t want to wait any longer. He knew a girl like her, so innocent, so naïve, was bound to break under the pressure.

He could tell she was curious, curious as to what it felt like to be touched by a man, to give her full self to someone, and he wanted to be that person, he needed to be that person.

He was in too deep with her, too obsessed with her. The way she looked, how angelic her voice was, the way she looked wearing clothes that hid even the most innocent parts of her body from the world. He needed her to be his, she would be his.

“C’mon sweetheart, let’s go upstairs, and I promise i’ll take good care of you. Do you trust me?”

She brings her bottom lip between her teeth, an action that was so innocent to her, but it drove Rafe crazy. He could feel the blood rush to his cock, making him grow uncomfortably hard beneath the fabric of his jeans.

She gasped when she felt his hard-on pressed into her thigh, an amused smirk playing at Rafe’s lips. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me, you’re so beautiful, let me show you just how beautiful you are. You deserve to be touched, to be made feel good. Don’t you want that?”

A simple “okay” was all she could manage to breathe out, her breath hitching in her throat when she felt him place his hands on her ass, gripping at it tightly.

“Okay what sweetheart? I need you to tell me what you want”

“I-I want you to touch me” She says softly, her voice so low it was almost a whisper, but Rafe had heard her clearly.

He quickly shoves his car door open, his free hand gripping tightly below her ass, keeping her tightly wrapped around his torso.

He gently sets her down onto her feet, shutting the truck door and grabbing her hand, pulling her to the front door of his house.

Rafe wastes no time, pulling her inside and locking the front door and dragging her to the spiral staircase that led upstairs.

Once they reached the top he pulls her into his room, shutting and locking the door. His lips instantly find hers again, the feeling of her lips against his pulling a groan from him. Her lips felt like home to him, warm, and safe- Something Rafe had never felt in his entire life.

He wraps his arms around her waist, his lips consuming hers as he pushes her back flush into his bedroom wall. He runs a hand up her side, his fingers pushing the hem of her shirt up, exposing just the slightest bit of flesh to him. He lightly grazes his fingers up the length of her side, his fingertips finding her bra.

He unclasps it in record time, running a hand up her arm and sliding one strap down her shoulder, moving to the other side and copying his actions until the flimsy fabric fell down her chest and onto his bedroom floor.

He pulls his lips from hers, his deep blue gaze on her face. He burns the image of her current state into his mind, her lips swollen and slightly parted, her chest heaving up and down as she tries to steady her breathing. He loved that he was the one who’d made her like this, loved that he was the one who had her craving more of his touch.

“You wanna take your shirt off princess?” He asks her softly, his thumb swiping across her bottom lip, his other arm still tightly wrapped around her waist.

“Y-Yes”

Rafe grins, pulling his arm from her waist and watching as she brings her hands down to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it to the floor. Her cheeks instantly turn a bright shade of pink, her arms flying across her chest to cover herself from him.

He lifts his hands, placing them gently on her arms and pulling them down. “No don’t hide princess, you want me to see you. And you’re so beautiful”

She nods her head slowly, letting her arms fall to her sides. She felt her entire body heat up under Rafe’s stare, his eyes erratically scanning across her chest.

He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, bringing his hands up to softly cup her bare breasts in his palms.

“Such a pretty girl, aren’t you?”

He begins softly massaging her breasts in his hands, his fingers finding her nipples, pinching and pulling at them. He loved the expression that took over her face when he began playing with her sensitive buds, her lips parted, eyes squeezed shut as she panted.

“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?”

“Y-Yes. Feels- Feels so good, Rafe”

Rafe hums in appreciation, dipping his head down to lick a stripe across both her breasts. She gasps loudly, her head falling back against the wall when he wraps his lips around one of the buds, sucking on it lightly before switching to the other side.

Her hands fly to the back of his head, nails lightly scratching through his buzzed hair. She lets soft moans fall from her lips, and Rafe swore he’d never heard anything so beautiful, so angelic. She was going to be the death of him.

He lets his hands fall, finding her waist and lightly tapping at her thigh, “Jump” he instructs, and she’s quick to obey, straddling him instantly.

Rafe carries her to his bed, letting her fall onto the soft mattress with a soft thud.

He climbs himself on top of her, his arms caging her into the bed. He steadies himself with one hand flat on the mattress, his free hand running up her side, a trail of goosebumps left behind on her skin from his fingertips. He cups her cheek softly, lightly rubbing his thumb across it.

“You want me to take your jeans off? Make you feel good?” Rafe asks, but he gives her no time to answer, his hand being removed from her cheek and finding the button on her jeans.

He swiftly undoes the button, pulling her zipper down slowly before he begins sliding the denim fabric down her legs.

Rafe sucks in a sharp breath when he sees her lacy white panties, an innocent girl like her wearing something like this?

“Fuck”

She blushes at his vulgar words, her breathing shaky as his fingers play with the waistband of her panties.

She lets out a shaky breath when his fingers push down into the front of her underwear, his fingers brushing against her clit, making her hips buck forward from the sensation.

“Rafe” She breathes out, her fingers tightly gripping at his bedding.

“You okay sweetheart?”

“We- We shouldn’t, oh!”

She tries to protest, tries to keep her faith and do as she knows she’s supposed to, but Rafe wasn’t having it. He runs his middle finger through her slick folds, pulling his hand from inside her panties and shoving the digit in his mouth.

He hums in appreciation, the taste of her on his tongue making the blood rush to his already painfully hard and throbbing cock.

“You’re so wet, so sweet. You know this is what you want, isn’t it baby?”

She feels the tears welling up in her eyes, letting a few stray tears fall. Did she want this? She didn’t understand what she was feeling, why she was aroused. She’d never felt like this before. Rafe had her mind racing, she did want this, she knew it was wrong, knew her father would be so disappointed in her, but why deny herself of this feeling when it felt right? Felt good.

She nods her head in response, pulling a small smile from Rafe’s lips. He tugs at her panties, pulling them down her legs and shoving them into the back pocket of his jeans.

He cups her bare cunt, his palm pressing firmly against her clit, making her whimper and squirm beneath his touch.

“You can move baby, make yourself feel good”

She whimpers, moving her hips and grinding herself against his hand. Rafe takes his free hand, his ringed fingers pressing into her thigh as he held her open for him. He removes his hand from her pussy, running a finger through her slick again, gathering her arousal on the digit before he slowly pushes it into her.

“Oh, Oh God!” She cries out, her back arching off the bed, pushing his finger further into her.

“God isn’t here sweetheart, it’s just you and me”

He begins slowly pushing his finger in and out of her soaked core, her velvety walls clenching around his finger. He curls his finger, hitting a spot inside her that had her toes curling.

“I-I, Oh Rafe”

Rafe smirks, adding another finger inside her. He quickens his pace, pushing them in and out harshly. She’s a whimpering mess, her orgasm so close he could feel it from how she was clenching around him.

“You can cum, it’s okay sweetheart, let it out”

She feels a burn between her legs, her belly growing tight as a feeling she’d never felt washes over her. She’s trembling beneath him, legs shaking, fists tightly wrapped around the fabric of his blanket as Rafe helped fuck her through her high.

When he pulls his fingers from her she lets out a small whimper, her body laying limp on his mattress, chest heaving up and down as she comes down from her orgasm.

“See that wasn’t so bad was it?” Rafe asks.

She sucks in a shaky breath, shaking her head. “N-No. Not bad. I’ve never… You know..”

Rafe quirks an eyebrow up at her, that damned amused smirk on his lips. “You’ve never had an orgasm before? I knew that sweetheart”

She hides her face in her hands, body heating up from embarrassment.

Rafe’s hands fly to hers, slowly pulling them down, his free hand rubbing softly across her cheek.

“Don’t hide, it’s okay. I want to teach you, I want you to feel comfortable with me, don’t you feel comfortable with me baby?”

She lets out a deep sigh, “Yes, I-I’m comfortable”

He grins, satisfied that he’d gotten her comfortable with him. He sits himself up on his knees, undoing his belt and tossing it to the floor.

“Do you wanna make me feel good sweet girl?”

She bites at her bottom lip, watching as he undoes the button on his pants followed by his zipper, the fabric sliding down his legs and leaving him in nothing but his underwear and his polo.

“Yes, I wanna make you feel good, teach me?”

Rafe brings his hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb sliding across her bottom lip, sliding the digit past her parted lips.

She wraps her lips around his thumb, giving it a light suck, a raspy groan falling from Rafe at the feeling.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful, gonna be such a good girl f’me, make me feel good, yeah?”

He pulls his thumb from her lips, sliding his briefs down his legs, his erection springing free and slapping just below his belly button. He notices the wide eyed expression on her face, her lips parted in a small ‘o’ as she stared at him.

“It’s okay baby, don’t be scared”

Rafe firmly grasps at his cock, pumping at it slowly, his free hand coming to the back of her head as he helped guide her down. “Put your lips on it baby, I got you”

She does as he says, her lips wrapping around the head first lightly sucking at his swollen tip. Rafe’s grip tightens in her hair, his hips bucking forward.

“Good girl, swirl your tongue around it a little, pretend it’s a popsicle or a lollipop”

She obeys, swirling her tongue around him, the precum that leaked from his tip making its way onto her tongue. She hums around him, the salty taste making her grow wet again.

Rafe slowly pushes himself further into her mouth, his breathing erratic as she takes him fully.

Her teeth graze at his shaft, making him jump back from the pain. “No teeth baby, hollow your cheeks and just move your head up and down slowly”

Her cheeks hollow, her head moving slowly up and down his length, small gags and whimpers falling from her with each push and pull, his head hitting the back of her throat with each push.

Rafe inhales deeply through his nose, his head thrown back in pleasure as she continues to suck and lick every last inch of him.

“Such a good fucking girl”

She feels herself grow wet from his praise, the ache between her thighs back, the craving for more of his touch growing with each passing second.

He tightly grips her hair when he feels himself twitching inside her mouth, pulling her off of him, her cheeks and chin stained with drool.

“Wanna cum inside you, do you want that? Want me to fill your pretty pussy up with my cum?”

She nods her head slowly, laying herself back and spreading her legs for him.

Rafe smiles widely, the innocence that once radiated from her now gone, and all because of him.

He pulls his polo over his head, discarding it on the floor and leaning himself down. He uses one hand to steady himself up, his other hand pumping at his cock and lining himself with her slick entrance.

“Gonna go slow okay? If it hurts, let me know and i’ll let you take a minute to breathe”

She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out except a small whine, the feel of his fat head pushing into her small hole sending a burn through her legs.

Rafe softly shushes her, “Shhh, it’s okay i’m gonna take care of you, alright?”

She blinks away her tears, nodding her head and sucking in a sharp breath. Rafe slowly pushes himself in more, using one hand to lightly stroke her cheek, trying to help her calm her breathing.

He pushes himself inside her fully, stilling his movements and trying to let her adjust to his size. She lets out a soft breath, her hands flying to his shoulders, fingernails digging into the flesh.

“Can I move princess?”

“Yes, please”

Rafe begins to slowly thrust himself inside her, small moans and whimpers falling from her as she begins to rock her hips with his.

“You’re doing so good, my good girl”

She’s a whining mess, the pain replaced with pleasure making her toes curl, her head thrown back into the pillows as she focuses on the feel of each push and pull Rafe makes.

“Not gonna last long with you squeezin’ me like that sweetheart, you feel yourself squeezin’ me? Your pussy begging to be filled with my cum”

She lets out a whine, her bottom lip harshly brought between her teeth as she felt her second orgasm approaching.

“I-I think i’m close” she cries out, her hips bucking up and meeting each of his thrusts.

“Let go for me angel, i’m right behind you”

She clamps down around him, squeezing him tightly and sucking him further into her. His head repeatedly hits at her sweet spot, making her a whimpering, moaning mess.

“Gonna fill you up, give you my babies, don’t you want that baby?”

“Yes! Want you babies, wanna be a mama, please please”

She screams out a moan, her release bursting from her. She was trembling, tears staining her cheeks as Rafe fucked her through her high.

Rafe feels his thrusts grow sloppy, his hips stuttering as he twitches inside her. He pushes himself to the hilt, stilling inside her as the hot ropes of his release spill inside of her.

He lets his head dip down, his face falling into the crook of her neck, his lips attacking the skin with hot kisses.

He pulls himself from inside her, rolling onto his side and wrapping his arms around her. He pulls her further into his body, snuggling further into her and breathing in her scent.

“I’m so happy you’re mine now, all mine”

She smiles softly, her eyes drooping as she begins to breathe softly, sleep taking over her.

She wasn’t sure what she would tell her father, or how this would change her life, but she didn’t care. All that mattered to her now was the man who had just completely changed her life, and how she was his, and he was hers.

RAFE TAGLIST: @whore-4-drewstarkey @ivy-34 @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @lizcameron @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @mel119g @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @lyndys @urmyslxt @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @oceandriveab

moodboard | rafe masterlist | taglist

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #dark!rafe cameron #soft!dom!rafe #rafe smut #rafe cameron brainrot #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe fic

[marvelouslizzie]

Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.

You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard. 

Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.

“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”

His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order. 

“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.

He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”

He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.

“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.

“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features. 

“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”

That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.

“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”

“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.

He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.

“For how long have you been working here?”

“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.

“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”

“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…

His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.

“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.

“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.

“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”

You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.

“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”

“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”

“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.

“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”

“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.

“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”

The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right? 

“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”

“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”

“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.

“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.

“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.

You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.

“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.

“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”

“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”

“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”

You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved. 

“How does that taste?”

“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.

“Yes, I am curious.”

You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.

“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down. 

“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious. 

“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.” 

You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.

“So considerate of you. Thank you.”

You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that. 

What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.

“Your hands are still so cold.”

“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”

“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.

*

He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.

“What do you want then?” 

It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.

“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.

He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.

You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck. 

“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.

But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.

“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.

“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.

“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”

“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”

He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.

He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”

“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”

For him? Sure. But for you?

“The bed is better.”

“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.

He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.

You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.

 “That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”

You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.

He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.

“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”

Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 

“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.

“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”

“But you kinda are.”

“I am not. Believe me.”

He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.

“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.

He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.

His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.

He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”

You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.

When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.

He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.

“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.

“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”

Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”

“I told you, I am not.”

He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”

“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”

“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”

“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”

You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”

“I just know what I want.” And this is it.

He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.

“You’re taking me so well already.”

“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”

He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”

“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”

“That I am not made of glass.”

“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”

“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.

“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”

He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess. 

“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”

“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.

“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.

“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.

“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.

“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.

“What do you want?”

“Just… harder.”

“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”

“This! Yes! Just like this!”

“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”

You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.

There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.

His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.

You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”

He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too. 

“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.

“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”

You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”

“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.

You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.

“Now, I can get used to that.”

“Say my name again, please.”

You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”

“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #avengers smut #bucky barnes fluff #my stories

[jaylaxies]

THE ONLY EXCEPTION

PAIRING: haechan × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, brother’s best friend trope, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cunnilingus, penetration, breeding, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of mark (brother) and other dreamies, mentions of yunjin from le sserafim, Imk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 10k words

SYNOPSIS: mark was an overprotective brother and he didn’t fail to show it, warning all the guys to stay away from you, his best friends were no exception. so, how will you make it work when you return back after graduating school, only to find that your crush is paying more attention to you than ever? it most certainly doesn’t help that it’s lee donghyuck, to whom, you are strictly off limits.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 i finally wrote a fic for the loml hyuckie <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

The music blasting from the speakers, reverberating around the room full of university students, the wretched smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes lingered in the air as your sharp eyes adorned with perfectly winged liner focused around the room, greeting everyone who was shocked to find you at the party. 

It felt good to be back. 

Leaving for a boarding school wasn’t on your bucket list, yet it was an opportunity you couldn’t miss, the school being a prestigious one with a degree that would only be helpful in the future, which left you no choice but to disappear for three years, only to suddenly reappear today, straight making an appearance at the party. 

“Told you, your celebrity status is still intact,” Yunjin winked at you, her being the only friend who was stubborn enough to not break contact with you, and you loved her for the same. 

Raising your brow at her, you took another swing of beer which you had loosely gripped in your hand, “it’s not mine, it all belongs to my brother,” you said, “I don’t want this attention, especially when it’s only valid because I’m Mark’s sister who had a glow up over my time of not being in the town.”

Your brother was well known in the university—the same university which you’d be attending soon along with the people who also attended the same middle school as you, however, his reputation preceded him as he, along with his friends, had turned into the group all girls desired to be with, yet they never let anyone stick around for long. 

Settling down wasn’t their forte. 

People snogging around every corner of the house wasn’t a sight you were willing to witness, granted you had a long flight and were tired. Not having any ride back home was another factor which made you approach your brother—who wasn’t locked up in a room with some girl for once. 

“I wanna go home,” you huffed, standing next to Mark, who was quick to excuse himself from the conversation he was having. 

“I can’t drive you back, I’m buzzed dude,” he says, “my baby sis is all grown up,” he looks your way, patting your head before you step back, disgusted at his overly affectionate big brother act. 

He acted as if everything was normal when in reality, he was the one who always deprived you of every single thing, not allowing you to go out, not allowing you to meet boys, and most importantly, not letting his friends interact with you.

“Ew, drink this and sober up.” You passed on the water bottle in your hand to him, “how am I supposed to go back? Should I take a cab?” 

“No, that’s not safe. You wait here, I’ll get my friend to drop you off,” he asked you to wait by the front door. 

The shock on your face was evident, yet it was better to get a ride with one of his friends rather than fending for yourself this late at night. With a nonchalant nod, you walked away, waiting by the door. 

It wasn’t hard for Mark to find his group, they were sprawled across the sofa as if they owned it, surrounded by girls sitting around them; or on their lap. 

“Who’s not drunk here?” He asked, straight up eliminating Jeno from the list, who was taking big gulps from his can, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “minus Jeno.”

Haechan was quick to ignore the girl who was leaning down to kiss him, eyes tired yet lined with the perfect amount of eyeliner—a look he went for whenever a party was concerned. 

“I am sober. Driver duties, why?” He asked. 

Even though there was nothing but truth in his words, it would be hard to accept it, provided that his eyes were the perfect shade of brown which harboured the ideal amount of brightness during the day, and just the exact amount of intoxication at night. 

“I had one beer,” Jaemin said, sitting with a bored expression on his face, probably not in the mood to entertain the girls at the given moment, unlike Jeno and Renjun, who basked in the attention of them. 

“Y/n wants to go back home,” Mark explained, grabbing another can of beer, “and I obviously can’t go to drop her off.”

“Y/n? Is she back?” Hyuck asked, playing with his silver rings before unbuttoning the top of his black button up, exposing his chain clad neck and clavicle, which was valid given how hot the room was. 

“Yeah, she came back in the afternoon today. Jaem can you drop her back home?” Jaemin chuckles at the offended look Haechan threw his way. 

“Of course man,” Jaemin agreed. 

“He’s drunk too, in case you overlooked that, I’m the sober one right now,” Hyuck said, pointing out the obvious. 

“Yeah, dude there’s no way I’m letting you go alone with my sister,” Mark laughed, “lord knows you can’t keep it in your pants,” he added. 

Hyuck was quick to raise his eyebrow, scoffing, pushing his tongue inside his cheek, “and he can?” He asked, pointing at Jaemin. 

“He knows where to draw a line, unlike you, and she’s my baby sister, I’m not risking anything,” Mark explained enthusiastically, as if it was a joke, because it caused an uproar of laughter, which only infuriated Hyuck more. 

“I know when to stop,” he said, annoyed. 

“You didn’t know that when you fucked principal’s daughter,” Jeno provided. 

“And when you did so in his office, with cameras installed,” Renjun not so helpfully added. 

Hyuck agrees that they were right to a certain extent, but their lack of trust was always something that bothered him. If there was someone who actually didn’t know where to stop, that would be them, because he did not appreciate the insults thrown his way. 

It also didn’t help how he genuinely wanted to see you, but now his mood was ruined, courtesy of Mark. 

Mark then proceeded to list out a few more things as to prove that Hyuck wasn’t fit for being anywhere close to his sister, “I don’t trust you with her,” he shrugged, asking Jaemin to drop you off and ending the conversation. 

Meanwhile, it had been a solid seven minutes and twenty six seconds since you started waiting for Mark’s friend to come and pick you up, and you made sure to put the time into good use by observing your surroundings yet again. 

In the farther right corner, you spotted your old crush, Park Sunghoon, who was in your ethics class. He never paid attention to you, granted your brother made sure to warn the whole school population that you were off limits. 

You couldn’t deny, it was good to see him happy and you swore you noticed him giggling too, talking to your old classmate, who you remember, was called Moon—one of the beauties of your school, before he pulled her into a sweet kiss. 

Your observation was cut short when one of Mark’s friends, whom you had not seen in the past three years appeared in front of you with a small smile. Na Jaemin, he was charming from the bottom to the top. 

“Welcome back, Y/n,” he smiled, voice slutry, which came naturally to him. 

You offered him a smile in return, shamelessly checking him out, he had gotten buff. You were not expecting him to come here, but then again, your subconscious wanted to see that one boy whose eyes reminded you of honey. 

You wondered how he looked now. Does he even remember you? A sigh left your glossy lips as you admitted that you still might have a teeny tiny crush on Lee Haechan after all this while, and deep inside, you wished to see him again. 

With a smile, you followed him to the car as he engaged you in a conversation. It was probably the first time he had been given the permission to interact with you, and even he couldn’t deny, he loved to see the development, the confidence that you had come back with. 

While you were getting back home, Haechan was fuming with anger, kicking the pavement as he had left the party, his mind formulating ideas for a plausible revenge against everyone. He was rebellious, he’d give himself that, yet in the depth of his heart, he meant well, not wanting to hurt anyone intentionally, only for the sake of having unharmed fun. 

It wasn’t as if his friends were any different, so why should he be the one who’s labelled to be the worst of them all? This time, he wanted to hurt someone on purpose, the someone being Mark Lee. 

Solution? Get as close to you as humanly possible—which would also mean that he’d have to work to get a place in your heart. But he didn’t mind it, especially when he had liked you all this while. 

Mark wanted him to stay away? Tough luck because Hyuck wanted you. 

Thinking about you reminded him of when you first met through Mark, he had priorly informed everyone to stay away from you, despite the fact you were in fifth grade, almost isolating you from the world. However, it wasn’t enough for Hyuck to stop greeting you with his gummy smiles, which caused you to smile back at him too. 

That’s the most exchange you guys have had over these years. Hyuck was gonna change that, and so, he found himself walking towards your house, knowing well that Mark won’t be around to stop him, and your parents would be deep asleep given that it was past midnight. 

Climbing up your room wasn’t hard, especially when he was aware of the ladder kept in your backyard, but being silent after entering your room through a window was tough. 

The lights were dim, just how you liked it when you slept. With a few steps, Hyuck reached your bed, eyes fixated on your sleeping figure. 

A small, genuine smile graced his face when he noticed the small pout on your moisturized lips. Adorable—that’s how he perceived you, yet there was no denying how much you had grown up to be prettier than ever, and he couldn’t help but caress your cheek with his thumb, even the slightest touch making you stir in your sleep, causing him to chuckle. 

He had to have you. 

You weren’t sure if it was a dream or had Hyuck actually visited you at night, though, the latter idea seemed nothing less than a delusion. Maybe it was your brain playing tricks with you, but it wasn’t your biggest concern at the given moment as you wanted nothing more than to freshen up and eat. 

What you did not expect was to see your mom catering the four boys sprawled across your living room, the guy in your dream wasn’t anywhere to be seen still. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mom sweetly pulled you in her embrace, gaining the attention of your brother and his friends, who were sitting together playing some video games. 

“Good morning, mum,” you smiled, having missed her while you were away for school. 

“Yo, I almost forgot you were back for a second,” Mark commented as your mom asked everyone to sit down. 

You looked at him with a sour expression, “yeah, right. Cause there was no one to tell you that you’re wearing two different designs of socks,” you pointed out, getting a snigger out of Jeno, who passed you a sweet smile when you looked his way, averting his gaze within a second, a habit of all his friends who weren’t allowed to stare at you. 

“Or that you’re wearing your T-shirt inside out,” you scrunch your nose as others see a very clueless Mark trying to get everything in order, your mom also amused by the sudden liveliness in the home, “no, but how are you this unaware about yourself?” You mused. 

Mark didn’t get to reply or whine when the front door opened to reveal the guy of your dreams, quite literally. 

Lee Haechan came into the room as if he owned the place, your eyes fixated on his messy hair as he said hello to your mother, who was more than happy to see him here. 

Hyuck was her favourite out of all Mark’s friends. 

Other guys were quick to apologize to Hyuck, you wondered why, and Mark had apparently apologized on text last night for crossing the line. 

He looked carefree and unbothered, so you didn’t ponder upon it much till he sat down next to you for breakfast, finally looking in your eyes. 

You blinked once, focusing on his eyes which looked like they had honey swirling around them, his skin was tanned to the prettiest shade as he passed you a small smile, “hey, Y/n,” he acknowledged your presence, lips almost upturned into what seemed to be a smirk. 

For a second, you couldn’t quite focus as you were too enthralled observing the beauty marks scattered across his face, his plump pink lips—

Yeah, that thought shook you awake, “hey, Haechan,” you greeted back, thinking that calling him Hyuck might just be too friendly. 

“So, are we on for our trip tomorrow?” Jaemin asked, cutting your interaction short. 

“Wait, what trip?” You asked, knowing that your parents were gonna be out for a business trip too, and you weren’t one to enjoy being home alone in such a big house. 

“Didn’t Mark tell you?” Your mom asked and shook your head, throwing an accusatory look his way, “They all are having a stay in at Hyuck’s beach house.”

“And me? Am I supposed to be staying alone for what—how many days?” You asked. 

“A week,” Mark informed, unaffected. 

“I’m not staying home alone for a whole week, mum, this isn’t fair.” The distress was clear on your face. 

“Call your friends over then,” your mom suggested. 

“For a week? We’d rather go out for vacation too,” you pouted, not noticing the stare of two boys. 

“Join the trip with Mark then,” she recommended, placing the fluffy pancake on your plate. 

“What? Why? No,” Mark protested and the room bursted into a web of chaos with everyone discussing it. 

Only Hyuck was silent, his eyes still on your face, admiring your side view shamelessly, but also careful not to give out his intentions in front of Mark. 

“It’s a boys trip, mom. Y’know? Boy stuff,” he winced, trying to explain without explaining that all they planned on doing was drink, smoke and invite girls over, “guys, tell them?”

“Yeah—he’s right,” they all agreed, not maintaining eye contact, looking at each other awkwardly. 

“Okay, since the beach house is Hyuck’s, why don’t we let him decide?” Your mom sighs, looking at Hyuck. 

Now that the sole attention is on him, he tries to act clueless with a helpless look on his face, especially when you are looking at him with big eyes, lower lip jutting out in a pout. 

Then he looked back at his friends, who clearly wanted the girl to go, minus Mark at least. Lastly, he looked at your mom, who only smiled, and that was enough of an excuse for Hyuck to say with the sweetest smile—

“Of course, Y/n and her friend are always invited.”

“He said yes,” you were on the phone, explaining the whole situation to Yunjin, knowing well that she’d be more than ready to accompany you for your rendezvous. 

“He what?” She exclaimed, knowing that the boys would never take your side, especially in front of Mark. 

“I know, mom sorta helped cause Haechan never says no to mom, it’s like he’s her favourite child or something,” a humorous laugh left your lips. 

“Well, he will be once he becomes your boyfriend,” Yunjin gushed, “we’ll make sure he notices you this time, we’ve got a whole week to make it work.” 

You had rushed up the stairs and into your room as soon as the decision had been made, followed by the loud complaints of Mark—which you did not bother to hear, calling Yunjin to fill her in with the situation instead. 

She was packing as you were speaking. 

In all honesty, it never crossed your mind that you would actually want to seduce Haechan, provided that he was Mark’s friend, which would lead to fights you definitely didn’t wish to be a part of, but you were an adult, so Mark held no authority over you. 

There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun after all. 

“I’m not giving you a ride,” Mark deadpanned when you got back downstairs, your mother looking at him with disappointment. 

“I’ll take a cab then,” you rolled your eyes. 

“No need, you’re taking two cars and it’s enough to fit you all,” your mom finally said, “who’s driving?” 

“Me and Mark,” Hyuck replied, voice innocent as you turned to look his way, “Mark is taking the bigger one.”

“Is that so? All boys can go with Mark then. Won’t you give a lift to Y/n and Yunjin, Hyuck?” Your mom asked, knowing he won’t say no. 

She was good at persuasion, unknowingly giving Haechan the full opportunity to be with you, which is exactly what he was aiming for in the first place. 

Haechan only nodded earnestly, eyes almost shining as he looked back at you, “of course, you can ride with me,” he said, ignoring the glare thrown his way by Mark as your name rolled off his tongue, “Y/n.”

As if his voice and gaze wasn’t enough for you to stop breathing in a room full of people, the subtle smirk on his lips successfully had your knees buckling with anticipation. 

Never in a million years you had thought that you’d be riding shotgun in Hyuck’s car, with him driving and humming along to songs under his breath. You had worn the shortest skirt you managed to find in your closet and the little trick had worked as you saw him staring at your legs when you first came downstairs, announcing that you and Yunjin were ready to leave for the trip. 

Not only did it grab the attention of the boy you had been targeting, but also it garnered attention of Jaemin, who at least tried to act respectful by gulping and looking away. 

Hyuck on the other hand believed that he should blatantly stare at the things which are to be admired, including your legs. 

It didn’t take long for you guys to load your bags into his car, as the other one left ten minutes before you guys. Yunjin wasn’t a fan of long drives—two hours in your case, so she put on her AirPods and closed her eyes the second she got into the back seat, also to give you privacy with Haechan. 

He drove with one hand, the other resting on his thigh. The rings and chain adorning his body caught your attention for a second too long. His hands were definitely bigger than yours, veins popping out whenever he gripped the steering wheel. 

The aura around him was too strong, as if he was a magnet ready to pull everyone towards him, you were no exception. 

“Like the rings, darling?” He asked, eyes on the road with the corner of his lip upturned. 

The question successfully broke your train of thoughts. It was probably the first conversation you had with him, excluding the usual greetings. 

And he kick-started it by calling you darling. 

“They’re pretty,” you replied, not letting the nickname phase you, despite heat creeping up your neck. 

His smile widened at your answer and he swiftly got a ring off his finger, passing it to you—again, without even looking your way. 

“They’ll look prettier on you,” he says ever so smoothly, and you bite your lips, trying to stop the smile from widening as your fingers brush against his, taking the ring and inspecting the design, “don’t wear that in front of the boys though, they’ll flip.”

An amused chuckle left your lips, something which Haechan did not expect, “why? Still scared of Mark and his empty threats?” You asked. 

He pissed you off too much with his don’t come near my sister or I’ll make your life a living hell threat to others, and you were bitter about it. 

“Now, why would I be scared of Mark?” He scoffed. 

“Because you’re one of his friends who aren’t even allowed to look my way,” you said as a matter of fact, breath hitching the second you felt his fingers on your thigh, the warmth of his palm juxtaposing the cold metal of his rings. 

The car was stopped at the red light, “I’ve always looked you in the eye, sweetheart,” he whispered, confirming his statement by turning his head and staring right into your eyes, the tension palpable as your gazes locked, the look being too alluring for you to break the eye contact. 

His whole demeanour changed in a second when his serious expression morphed into a sweet smile, the kind that makes you melt right before he shifted his focus back on the road as if he hadn’t just provided you a sliver of hope about him being interested in you. 

He, however, didn’t bother moving his hand which was gripping your thigh lightly, his fingers were long and looked exceptionally pretty on your skin. You couldn’t help but look out of the window, trying not to let your thoughts get out of hand. 

It certainly didn’t help that he was singing explicit romantic songs with all his might while your best friend was sleeping peacefully in the backseat. 

Haechan loved every single reaction he got out of you, your little shivers when he caressed your thigh, your breath hitching for the very same reason midway a conversation, and your sweet blabber as you he initiated a conversation. 

“How was school?” He asked after a while. 

The conversation flowed smoothly after, the ride wasn’t long after all, his hand caressing your thigh throughout the journey, and you wished for it to be longer. 

The beach house wasn’t a house apparently, but a mansion with how grand it was. Meaning, everyone would easily get their own rooms. Mark’s car was already parked as they reached earlier, but you saw Jaemin coming out when he heard the sound of Hyuck’s car, helping you take the bags inside with his ever so charming smile while Yunjin and you silently gushed about the beach view. 

Others were busy preparing for the party that was to be held at night—which was news to you. 

The interior was in the shades of black, white, and greys, matching Haechan’s personality in a peculiar manner, given that he was filled with colours of all sorts. 

You and Yunjin selected the adjacent rooms on the first floor, the balcony giving you a pretty view wasn’t something you’d want to miss out on. Haechan occupying the room which was right in front of your room is another thing which boosted your excitement. 

The next few hours flew by as you rested on the beach with Yunjin, soaking up warmth of the sand with the cold ocean waves reaching your toes. It felt peaceful. 

“So, what are you gonna wear to woo Haechan today?” Yunjin asked, sipping on her iced beverage. 

The sun was about to set, your eyes never leaving the sky which displayed all shades of red, yellow and orange, “what do you mean?”

“I mean that there’s no way they won’t be inviting girls, it was supposed to be a boys trip after all to get their dicks wet,” she said as a matter of fact. 

You winced again, not having it in you to watch your brother surrounded by girls. 

“And if Haechan was flirting with you, then it’s your chance to flirt back now, given that Mark would be drunk beyond the point of recovery. Not to mention how you’ll have to do something so he doesn’t stray off and give attention to other girls,” Yunjin listed out. 

She was right, it wasn’t like you were going to get this chance again, “red dress or black dress?” You asked with a playful smile and she squealed, rushing you into your room to help you get ready. 

The music was blaring by the time you applied the last swatch of lipstick, smacking your lips for the colour to blend in perfectly, complementing your skin tone ever so perfectly. Yunjin doing the same beside you. 

You weren’t sure how they managed to gather all this crowd for a party, granted you guys didn’t even live here, yet who would question these boys, an online invite and people would come running to attend their parties. 

Which was the case at the given moment as well. The second you stepped out from your assorted room, you found Jeno practically eating a girl’s face off with how passionately they were kissing  right beside the door, the music blaring in the background as you tried to overcome the initial shock of seeing your brother’s friend going what you’d consider wild. 

Making your way downstairs, you put on your best confident expression, your eyes immediately looking around, trying to find a certain black haired guy. 

Yunjin stopped you, pointing at the corner of the room where Hyuck was sitting with girls surrounding him, Renjun right next to him, a scoff of disbelief leaving your lips when one of them oh so comfortably sat down on his lap, his arm wrapping around her waist so naturally. 

Yet you couldn’t deny just how effortlessly attractive he looked in that black button up, the first few buttons undone to reveal his chest. The eyeshadow enhancing the look of his eyes to appear more slutry than they already seemed to be. 

Great. This is what you came on this trip for—to see Hyuck tilting the chin of a random girl, shoving his tongue inside her mouth. 

This won’t do, you averted your gaze, going straight to get alcohol, any kind would do, you just needed a boost of confidence to work upon your plan. Yunjin knew exactly what you were up to, winking at you before wandering off in the crowd. 

“Not dancing tonight?” Jaemin asked, standing right next to you as he poured himself a drink. 

His presence made your job easier, especially when he looked so good tonight. His dark hair was a little messy, sleeves rolled up as he was clad in all black, a simple chain adorning his slender neck. 

Perfect bait to get a reaction out of Haechan. 

If he’d bother to look your way, that is. 

“Talking to me tonight? Not scared of my brother anymore?” Your lips curled up, amused. 

That earned a laugh out of him, “he’s locked up in a room as we speak,” he said over the music. Translation: he was busy fucking someone and he won’t be here to monitor your moves. 

Your nose scrunched, not wanting to think about your brother doing the deed. Jaemin walked alongside you as you took up his offer to dance, but also made sure that you could see Haechan clearly with your spot. 

His eyes turned your way for the first time tonight the second you started moving your body along to the rhythm. The distance was fair, yet it felt as if you were the only person in this room and he was the only spectator to your actions. 

Jaemin’s hand came to rest on your waist, your body in sync with his moves, the proximity close and a blissful expression on your face. 

Again, you subtly looked Hyuck’s way, only to find his eyes darker than ever, not straying away from you for even a second, the girl on his lap long forgotten as he couldn’t find a reason to give her his attention anymore. 

Not when you were dancing with Jaemin, not when your dress rode up, revealing your thighs, not when Jaemin whispered in your ear and you giggled, getting closer to him. 

He couldn’t stand it, the muscle in his jaw clenched, his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek with annoyance bubbling up in his body. 

You turned around, only to find Haechan missing from the spot he was sitting at. All of a sudden, you excused yourself from Jaemin and made your way around the room, to find him again and you failed to do so. 

The room’s atmosphere got stuffy as the night progressed and you made your way upstairs to your room in need of fresh air which was very well provided by the grand balcony. 

Just as you twisted the door knob, getting inside the room, you gasped as Hyuck closed the door behind you, pushing you against the wooden surface of the door, his scent taking over your senses seamlessly as you breathed in deeply. 

“Hyuck—” you whispered, hyper aware of how close he was to you, his body pressed against yours in a way you could feel his torso muscles. His face tilted ever so slightly, just enough for your noses to brush against each other. 

The position alone sent you into a state of frenzy, and he didn’t even let you finish speaking out his name as he chuckled darkly. 

“Didn’t know you were into Jaemin, darling,” he whispered, causing you to gulp down the nervousness, which was of no use as your knees felt even weaker with his slender finger tracing your cheek, stopping right by your lips, “dancing with him while wearing the ring that I gave you.” His thumb caressing your bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “doesn’t really sound fair to me now, does it, baby?” He asked, stopping his actions and looking your right in the eye. 

You couldn’t show him how affected you were with possessiveness laced tone, “I don’t see how it’s unfair, Haechan,” you smiled sweetly, keeping your hand on his chest. 

“Wrong,” he said in a beat, “his intentions aren’t pure,” he provided. 

You chuckled, turning your face to the side for a second, “what about your intentions?” You dared to ask. 

His hold on you tightened, “you wanna know my intentions?” He asked, voice so low it gave you goosebumps as he moved even closer to you, his lips on the verge of touching yours. 

They never fully touched, your hand becoming a barrier between you two, “maybe some other day,” you whispered, the expression in his eyes unreadable, “someday when you don’t come here with tainted lips after kissing god knows how many girls,” you smiled tightly, pushing him aside, the alcohol only providing you with unadulterated courage. 

He pulled you back, hand wrapped around your wrist so his torso was pressed against your back, which vibrated with his chuckles, “didn’t know it bothered you that much, pretty,” his lips touched your earlobe. 

“It doesn’t,” you seethed out, trying not to sound breathless as you shrugged out of his hold, “besides, we mean nothing to each other. I won’t stop you from snogging anyone and you can’t stop me from dancing with anyone.”

That’s all you said before slipping out of his grasp, rushing in and closing the bathroom door behind you and breathing in deeply. The feeling of his touch still lingering on your body, he was jealous as you were and he was so close. 

So close to kissing you. 

Hyuck leaned against the door on the opposite side of you, “we mean nothing to each other?” He scoffed under his breath, the image of Jaemin’s hands on your waist coming back to his mind. He was wrong to pay attention to someone else, he admits, but now he was determined to give you all his attention. 

“You’re mine, you just don’t know that yet,” he says, knowing you won’t be able to hear him, “all mine,” his tone was possessive still as he walked out of the room. 

The boys woke up all hungover the next morning, while you and Yunjin snuck out of the mansion before others woke up, only to avoid Hyuck, which was almost funny given that you were here to get his attention. 

Regardless, you sat in this cute cafe you found nearby, explaining the whole situation to your best friend. The slight smirk on her face gave away the fact that she was proud of you for not giving him attention last night. It’ll only make him want you more, she had said. 

Mark called you right after you finished your meal, “where are you?” He asked, panicked, “don’t tell me you got kidnapped,” the horror was clear in his voice and you rolled your eyes, not understanding how his brain worked. 

“I literally left a note on the fridge that I’ll be out for lunch and shopping, Mark,” you explained, almost laughing when you heard him say oh. He was standing right in front of the fridge apparently. 

“Right, have fun,” he said, hanging up the call. 

He wasn’t the best brother but he did care. At times, more than he needed to. 

“Okay so here’s the plan,” Yunjin started to explain. She loved giving out ideas and they always worked, which is why you found yourself in the swimsuit store, purchasing the one which flattered your body in the best manner. 

“And don’t lock your room at night. Knowing Haechan, he would definitely give you a little visit after seeing you pull that stunt.” 

The sun was setting and you were almost back at the mansion. You enjoyed the day and it was a great plan to get Hyuck out of your head, even though it wasn’t possible despite the fact that it had been only two days since you came back and met him again. 

Tonight’s plan was to have a bonfire by the beach, grill meat and have a good time. Mark had finally accepted and asked everyone to tone down and make the trip more family friendly, hence the bonfire.  

The place was empty when you got back in, and you saw the boys setting up the barbecue when you changed into your dress before making your way to join them. 

“Remember the plan?” Yunjin asked and you nodded, loving the feel of cold sand beneath your foot. 

Hyuck was the first one to notice your presence, his dark eyes fixated on your figure as you walked towards them, Jaemin being the second one as he smiled your way, to which you smiled back sweetly. 

You still had Hyuck’s ring on as you approached the place where Hyuck and Jaemin were grilling the meat, Mark was sitting down and playing his guitar while Jeno and Renjun sang along to the song, Yunjin being a great singer also joined those three. 

“Can I have a taste?” You asked, looking at Jaemin with hopeful eyes. 

The weather was cold yet the burning stare of a certain someone had you feeling all kinds of warmth, yet you didn’t look his way. 

“Of course, say ah,” Jaemin said, eyes shining as he held the piece of meat for you and you gladly accepted it, your lips touching his fingers in a caress, the juicy taste making you hum out in pleasure. 

In a second, you were turned around, “there’s something on your lips,” Hyuck muttered, expression stoic as he brushed his thumb on your lower lip, “all cleaned.”

You would have laughed at the jealousy had his action not been so intimidating, as if he was warning you not to do this. 

“Thanks,” you said, voice extra sweet before you looked back at Jaemin who was confused at the exchange, “can I have more?” You asked. 

“Here.” Hyuck shoved a plate in your hands before Jaemin could even reply, “enjoy your food,” he said, smiling but his eye twitched in the process, making you bite your lower lip to contain your laugh yet again and you sat down finally. 

“Do you think the water would be cold right now?” Jeno asked no one in general, his intrusive thoughts winning.  

“Why? Wanna take a dip?” Mark asked with a laugh, eyebrows raising once he realized that Jeno was serious about it. 

“It’ll be fun,” he said as everyone laughed around him. 

“There’s no light out here, Jeno,” Renjun said. 

“It’ll be fun.”

“The waves are strong too,” Mark reasoned.

“It’ll be fun.”

“Okay, his vocabulary is limited,” Hyuck said, sitting by you as Jaemin handed over the plates to everyone, Mark sparing a glance to make sure Hyuck didn’t sit too close to you. 

“We can go one hour after eating, just dip our toes in,” Yunjin suggested and you guys agreed as Mark resumed playing his guitar. 

“Have more, Y/n.” Jaemin smiled, giving you more pieces to eat from his own plate. 

Haechan didn’t remember the last time he felt so pissed over something this small, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It had been two whole days since you made your comeback in his life but those two days were enough for him to want you, granted he did have a crush on you for the longest time, only now it wasn’t just your sweetness he was attracted to. 

“Thank you, nana,” you beamed, the nickname only infuriating Hyuck more while you could see Jaemin blush faintly and you truly wondered how all these goofballs pulled girls so easily. 

“Nana,” Hyuck mocked under his breath, Yunjin noticing the atmosphere and slightly pushing you towards him. 

“You’re doing brilliantly,” she whispered, “he looks like he’ll blow up anytime now.”

It felt nice, sitting in front of the bonfire while listening to others singing. You knew you were trying to make Hyuck jealous yet it was hard not to stare at his face, which basked in the glow of fire. He was already looking your way, noticing how you still had his ring on, which only tempted him to pull you on his lap, yet he knew it was impossible with your brother monitoring his every move. 

“Let’s go into the water,” Jeno repeated, as Mark smirked. 

“On the count of one, two,” he said, and didn’t even finish before your eyes widened as your brother came to pick you up in hopes of throwing you into the cold water. 

Mark was escapable. Jeno on the other hand, not so much and it didn’t help how they both had lifted you up despite your thrashing and whining and ran towards the water. 

“Mark I swear I’ll kill you—” you warned and Yunjin had the time of her life recording this whole scene. 

Renjun continuously reminded the boys to stay safe while also doing god’s work by providing you with the flashlight set on the highest setting from his phone. 

Within a second, you were screaming and thrashing as the boys dropped you into the cold water, laughing and doing the same with a horrified Renjun before rushing towards the mansion, especially Mark, leaving you all cold. 

Hyuck rushed to close the flashlight. 

You were wearing white, and the water only made your clothes look transparent, which is why Hyuck was taking his jacket off, but yet again, Jaemin was quick to wrap his leather jacket around your shivering frame. 

He was glad that you were covered but the annoyance was clear on his face, the amusement long gone even with you muttering and plotting Mark and Jeno’s murder with Renjun. 

Nor did he enjoy the sight of Jaemin taking you back to the villa, acting all protective as if he was your knight in shining armour. 

“You’re making it so obvious that you’re jealous,” Yunjin quipped, noticing how everyone walked ahead of them, rushing to the mansion. 

He laughed out, ending it with a scoff, “I have no reason to be,” he said, voice calm, “she’s mine anyways,” he shrugged, determination clear in his eyes. 

“Wow, you’re not even scared to admit it out loud? What if Mark hears?” She asks and Hyuck’s expression sours. 

“He wouldn’t approve. That’s a given but that’s not enough to stop me,” he shrugged yet again. 

“Okay Mr. Someone is stealing your girl as we speak though,” Yunjin pointed out, a fake sympathetic scowl on her face. 

Haechan hated feeling this way, the feeling where things do not go his way. He hadn’t felt this way since—forever. He had everything he wanted, but not you. Mark being a hindrance is something he considered to be normal till some extent, but Jaemin? That’s unacceptable. 

“I’ll take care of it.”

It was one in the morning and you were wrapped up in a blanket, sitting down near the balcony to observe the spectrum of stars which you could have sworn were shining. 

Being thrown into the water wasn’t the best experience per se, but you knew it would soon turn into a funny memory you guys would look back at someday in the future. Yet, it wasn’t something you were thinking about much, granted you had better things to ponder about. 

Lee Haechan. 

You well expected him to show at least a sliver of reaction, some sort of outburst during the evening, however it never came. Either he was plotting revenge or he simply didn’t care enough. Or he was trying to keep it in, your mind tried to reason with you. 

You sighed, getting up and closing the sliding doors of the big balcony in hopes of getting a cozy sleep. You needed that warmth after all. Just as you dropped the blanket on the bed, the door swung open—which shouldn’t have happened, given that you were sure you had locked it.

Haechan entered the room, closing the door behind him and you couldn’t help but stand at your place, shocked at his sudden appearance, “how did you—” 

“It’s my place, I can get in and out anytime I want,” he replied, voice smooth, giving you goosebumps as he walked closer to you. 

He was clad in sweatpants and a white T-shirt, the attire was simple, yet he made it look a hundred times more attractive than the usual. 

“Oh,” you breathed out, the dim lights of the room caused his skin to glow a beautiful shade of golden. 

There wasn’t a single ounce of jealousy on his face, rather, he looked content with the setting, settling down and sitting on the corner of the bed, his dark eyes staring at you, the silence louder than ever. 

“Uhm, so—did you want something?” You asked, wincing at your tone as you suddenly felt conscious under his gaze, slightly aroused too, not knowing what he was actually here for. 

He clicked his tongue, looking away for a second before his eyes settled on you for the second time. 

Hyuck gave you no time to process anything as his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him in a single hard tug, which had your body stumbling forward and right on his lap. 

He held on to your waist, helping you stabilize your balance, “what’s wrong, princess? You were so confident, getting cozy with Jaemin, huh?” He raise his brow, letting the possessiveness show on his face, the I don’t give a fuck facade disappearing. 

Your breath hitched with the movement of his fingers on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on the part where your top had ridden up to expose your skin. 

“He was just being nice,” you breathed out, shivering slightly. 

He rolled his eyes at your statement, a scoff leaving his lips before he leaned in, earning a gasp out of you. His nose caressed yours, and you were scared to move, his lips hovering above yours. 

“Just being nice my ass,” he clicked his tongue yet again, and suddenly you were hyper aware about the fact that you were breathing in the same air, “you wanted to know my intentions, right, princess?” He asked, “then listen, I want you all to myself,” his tone was raspy, your fingers digging into his shoulders for support, “don’t think I didn’t notice your subtle glances towards me, especially when you were with Jaemin,” he chuckled and you gulped, looking elsewhere. 

He was quick to grab your chin, making you look right in his eyes, “trying to get me jealous, darling? Well, good for you, it fucking worked.”

“Hyuck—” you whimper, your body heating up as you realized you were sitting right on his crotch. 

“Shh, bad girls don’t get to talk,” he shook his head, disappointed, “now what do we do about this? Maybe I’ll just have to claim your body to make you understand that you don’t need to make me jealous to have all my attention,” he suggested. 

You could feel the wetness down in your lacy panties and he hadn’t even touched you. Something about the way his voice came out so luscious, something about the way his touch made you feel like putty, something about his eyes made you feel mesmerized. 

“Tell me, baby. Can I mark you mine?” He asked and you felt your heart flutter, his voice was gentle when he asked for your consent, and you couldn’t hold back from wanting him anymore, nodding gently, “use your words, love,” he urged, lips parted. 

“Yes,” you whispered, grabbing on to him as he bit your lip, eliciting another gasp out of you, a teasing smirk on his face. 

“Yeah? You sure you can handle it?” He asked and you tugged on to his collar, impatiently pulling you to him. 

“Let’s find out,” you mumbled. 

Without any more delay, you closed the distance between you both, his hand coming to rest on your nape, tilting your head to kiss you passionately, his tongue brushing over your lips, parting them with ease for your tongue to graze the tip of his own. 

The room felt misty as you continued to kiss, his kisses getting more possessive by second, thinking about how no one else should have you, that you belong to him. He picked you up with ease, putting you underneath him on the bed, his kisses trailing down as you took a deep breath. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled midway kisses, some were long, especially the ones around your clavicle and neck region while the others were feather soft, driving you insane to the point of no return. It only ascended when his fingers finally lifted up your top, exploring the expanse of your skin with teasing touches. 

Your back arched as soon as he caresses the area under your tits, before cupping them fully, leaning back to get rid of your top altogether. You couldn’t shy under his gaze, the way he looked at you only boosted your confidence, as if he was a predator hungry for a meal and you were his precious prey, all ready to be devoured. 

He had no time to waste, his mouth working fast to lean down, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, noticing how you react to his each touch, fondling your other tit, hearing you whimper and beg for more, his name chanting on your lips out of sheer pleasure. 

“It’s so fucking cute how your body reacts to every little touch of mine,” he whispered, biting your earlobe in the process, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he stuffed his pretty fingers inside your shorts, chuckling when he realizes how soiled your lacy panties had gotten, “fuck, I wanna taste that pretty cunt,” he says, taking off his T-shirt before doing the same to your shorts, dragging your panties down alongside it. 

You found yourself drooling at the sight of Hyuck’s muscles, he had started going to the gym and the results were clearly visible on his body, but you were ripped out of your thought train when he bit your inner thigh, causing you to clench around nothing, giving you kisses and licks all over, but not touching the part where you needed him the most. 

“P—please,” you cried out of frustration, and he immersed himself, licking a big stripe of your wet cunt, genuinely loving the taste as he hummed with satisfaction, holding your thighs open with his strong arms, “oh god,” you moaned out, causing him to smirk against your wetness, pressing sweet kisses to your clit. 

It felt like heaven when you were being destroyed by the demon himself. 

Hyuck was hard, his thick cock barely containing itself from splitting your pussy into two, but he wanted to see you fall apart on his tongue first, “your cunt,” he said, licking it to make a point, “belongs to me,” he whispered and you nodded. 

“It’s yours—all yours!”

“That’s my good fucking girl, you’re all mine,” he said, his tongue prodding at your entrance, fucking your pussy, which gave you more pleasure than you had ever felt through your life. 

It didn’t take long for you to feel your lower abdomen tightening, your fingers tugging on his silky black roots as he ate you out like a madman, as if he was drunk in the essence of your pussy. With a cry, you found yourself falling apart all over his tongue and he lapped it up, coming to kiss you right after, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. He knew you’d be overstimulated, but that’s exactly what he was aiming for when he finally pulled out his cock. You knew he’d be thick, but you underestimated him still, knowing well his cock wouldn’t fit in your cunt. 

“Gonna claim you mine,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours as he positioned himself on your entrance, “fuck, you’re all mine,” he said, kissing you deeply to absorb all yours moans as he pushed himself inside you. 

Your wetness helped him, yet he had to thrust in a few times to bottom out and could feel yourself clenching around him uncontrollably, loving the stretch and also the fact that he was twitching inside of you. 

His fingers grabbed your hips in a tight hold as he started pistoning into you at a pace which you hadn’t expected, and you were sure you looked crazy with how your eyes were teary, your hair a mess and your lips swollen, courtesy of the boy who groaned and slapped your cunt, fucking you deeper. 

“That’s it, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he praised and you let out broken sentences which he couldn’t comprehend, you were too gone, pushed into your subspace to the point you simply let Hyuck do all the work, moaning and whimpering for him, trying to keep your noises at bay in case anyone wakes up. 

Just when you both were about to read your high, he stopped fucking you, making you whimper out in distress, only to have you flipped with your ass up and head down on the pillow. 

It didn’t take him a second before he was entering your cunt again, fucking you from behind in hopes of giving you the brutal backshots you deserved, to fuck you in a way that you’ll be ruined forever, not even wanting to go back to another guy for their cock. 

This also gave him the perfect opportunity to spank your ass, the hurt only making you clench around him harder. 

“Fuck—I’m so—so close,” you sobbed, voice coming out muffled and Hyuck rubbed your clit to stimulate you further. 

“Go on, baby. Give me everything,” he urged and you both finally let go, groaning and whining as he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with your juices.

It felt as if the universe had blessed you with the highest amount of unadulterated pleasure one could have, and your eyes closed shut as Hyuck lay down next to you, breathing in and out just as quick as you to regain his strength to breathe properly. 

“Y/n,” he whispered, more gently this time, pulling you into a sweet kiss as you smiled into it, finding it amusing that he was the same guy who brutally fucked you not even a few minutes back, “you really are mine, yeah?” He said, caressing your cheek. 

“Yeah?” You asked in a whisper and he nodded earnestly, getting a washcloth and helping you into the bathroom, feeling proud when you couldn’t stand up properly. 

He was sweet. Sweeter than you had ever expected him to be and that’s why you found yourself kissing him again, and again as you both washed up in the shower, turning it to the point you both couldn’t help but giggle, his forehead resting against yours. 

“I really do like you, baby,” he whispered. 

“I really like you too, Hyuck,” you replied, feeling happier than you had ever felt, spending a while in his embrace, talking and kissing and eventually, falling asleep in his arms as you both smiled faintly, even in your deep slumber. 

Hurt. 

That’s what your body felt the second you blinked open your eyes. Images from last night revisiting you as a montage, a small smile lingered on your face, discarding the fact that you were disappointed, not having Hyuck by your side when you woke up, but then again, it was still better than getting caught by Mark. 

With the support of the bedside tables, you managed to stand up on your wobbly feet, stablizing yourself before going into the bathroom to freshen up, you needed that long bath to soothe down your muscles. 

Now wrapped up in your bath robe, you passed by the door, only to hear the sound of someone arguing. Curiosity got the best of you as you walked back, twisting the knob to open it just the right amount for it to not be noticeable, gladly the door opened seamlessly. 

“Stop playing with her feelings,” Jaemin whisper-yelled, and your heartbeat rose when you saw how it was directed towards Hyuck. 

“Who the fuck even said I’m playing with her?” Hyuck asked, his voice full of exasperation and anger. 

Jaemin scoffed, you hadn’t seen that expression on his face, ever. “So you’re just gonna go around fucking her right after Mark told you, specifically might I add, to stay away from her. What are you trying to do here? Take revenge by proving a point?” 

Your heart dropped hearing that sentence. Sneaking around made sense because Mark would, without any doubts, be against this setting, but what revenge was Jaemin talking about? When did Mark ask Hyuck to stay away from her, specifically at that? 

“That’s none of your business,” Hyuck replied, teeth gritted, “besides, weren’t you the one begging for her attention by putting up your good boy act? We aren’t that different, Jaemin,” he mocked, “you only want her cause she’s Mark’s sister.”

Your lip wobbled at his confession, he hadn’t agreed to Jaemin’s claims yet he hadn’t denied it either and suddenly you didn’t feel comfortable, all the positive energy drained as you rushed to get dressed, to get out. 

You trusted Hyuck too easily, and you knew you’d have to confront him about this, but you didn’t feel like doing it now. You wanted to go back home, alone, to deal with your inconvenience which would bother you for a while now. 

So you did what you had to do: run away from your problems. 

You texted Mark that you’d be taking his car, also mentioning it to Yunjin that you’ll be going back home, as you rushed to get dressed up and sneak out of the place without Hyuck knowing, and you were successful in doing so, sighing as soon as you started driving back. 

Hyuck thought you were sleeping in, and he couldn’t enter your room with everyone being awake and roaming around, especially when Jaemin knew what you two had done last night. 

The reminder only made him smile, as cliche as it sounds, he had never felt this way with other girls, your little confession only made his heart beat faster. You liked him back, and that’s all that mattered. 

“Yo, why did Y/n leave? She’s not picking up the calls either?” Hyuck heard Mark ask Yunjin, who knew exactly what was up. 

“She’s got some work to take care of, you don’t have to worry about it,” Yunjin patted his shoulder before making her way out to the beach to call you again. She knows you want space, but she also knows you like it when she checks up on you. 

Now, that was news to Hyuck, his eyes widening as he rushed to open the door to your room, only to find you weren’t actually there. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled, getting his phone out and calling you, only for it to get declined, “no, fuck,” he groaned, thinking about if he upset you in any way, yet he couldn’t understand why you’d leave, especially when you were so happy when you went to sleep. 

Or maybe she heard you talking to Jaemin, his subconscious spoke up, making him lose his mind and punch the wall next to him, running down the stairs to follow Yunjin, calling out her name which caused her to pause and remove her sunglasses. 

“Where is Y/n?” He asked, breathing heavily. 

“Are you playing with her feelings?” She asked instead of replying to his question, “cause if that’s the case then I don’t care if we’re staying at your mansion, I’ll have to kick and break your baby making machine.” Her smile was threatening. 

“Oh god, that’s not it!” Hyuck was frustrated, “I’ve liked her since we were kids, I'm not joking around,” he said earnestly, “is she upset, why did she leave?” 

Yunjin watched the boy with amusement in her eyes, “you’re so dumb actually. If you like her enough then why aren’t you running after her right now? Get in your car and get your girl, shoo,” she dismissed him and Hyuck didn’t wait to chat about how she shouldn’t shoo him away, rather, he ran to grab his car keys, not paying attention to Renjun who asked why he was in such a hurry. 

Hyuck didn’t want any miscommunications whatsoever, it had been an hour since you had left, and it’ll probably be impossible to cover that distance in a short while so he decided to drive faster and get to your place. 

“Y/n, baby, please listen to me,” he muttered to himself, trying to call you again. 

You weren’t dating. It had barely been a week since you came back, a few days since he had started to get to know this new side of you and he didn’t want it to stop, not when he’s genuinely liked you for so long, minus his fuckboy ways of course. 

Mark had tried to call him a few times too, sensing that something was up, yet Hyuck didn’t pick up those calls, focusing on driving till he finally reached your place, relieved to see Mark’s car parked there. 

He knew there was an extra key under the third potted plant on the entrance, and that’s exactly what he took and opened the door. The living room was empty, which caused him to rush up the stairs to find you in your room, his chest heaving up and down. 

The sudden voice startled you, your mouth going dry at the sight of Hyuck. 

You couldn’t avoid him after all. 

“Hyuck, is everything okay? What are you doing here—why are you here?” You asked, pretending to be okay. 

“Did you hear us in the morning?” He asked, eyes softer than you had ever seen. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped, gulping down your emotions before staring at your feet, “I did,” you whispered, “but it’s fine, Hyuck. The sex was great—”

You didn’t look up while rambling, and it was cut short when Hyuck pulled you into his embrace, warmth spreading all over your body with how he held you close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so broken seeing someone’s face, and he couldn’t handle that it was because of him that you felt this hurt. 

“That’s not true,” he whispered, holding you tighter, you could feel tears forming in your eyes. 

“N—no one’s ever approached me because of Mark,” your voice came out muffled, and Hyuck leaned back slightly just to look at your face, his thumb wiping the stray tear that cascaded down your cheek, “i felt like no one wanted to befriend me for me, all girls wanted to get to him through me and all the boys were so scared,” you laughed pathetically, knowing that your story wasn’t even sob worthy, “but you were the only one who still talked to me, even if it was just greeting me, asking me about my day,” you let out your breath. 

“Baby,” Hyuck cupped your cheeks. 

“You were the only exception, Hyuck. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve always liked you so much. So tell me, was it all a joke?” You asked, eyes serious. 

“It wasn’t,” he shook his head, gulping down before explaining it to you, “it happened at the party when I offered to drop you home but Mark was against it, thinking that I would use you to only fuck you, but that was not my intention I swear,” he says with a frown. 

“So that’s what you did,” your voice barely came out, it sounded broken. 

“God—no. No. I could never do that to you,” he felt helpless, trying to word his sentence properly, “I’ve liked you since we were kids, and I was heartbroken when you switched schools and cities. But I just got so excited when Mark told us that you were back—I wanted to see you, talk to you, but Mark only gave me a reminder that I couldn’t have you.”

You listened to him, your heart undoubtedly fluttering with how earnest his eyes looked, how the distress of being denied of you flashed clearly on his face. 

You really wanted to kiss him. 

“And when he gave all those permissions to Jaemin, I couldn’t help it. I never had revenge in my mind Y/n. I like you too much to hurt you, and I know we’re not even dating right now, but I don’t want anyone to ruin it for us even before our story starts and I swear to god I’ll fight Mark if it means that I can have you,” he breathed out, cheeks flushed as he had confessed to someone for the very first time.

You broke into a smile despite the tears in your eyes, “you promise?” You held up your pinky finger. 

He laced his pinky finger with yours, tugging it so you stumble slightly, and he takes it as an opportunity to pull you into a deep kiss, his soft lips caressing yours in a possessive hold, promising that he’ll take care of you. 

“Good, cause I was going to be really upset if you didn’t,” you mumbled against his lips. 

He chuckled before saying, “don’t ever run away from me, yeah?” 

You nodded, hugging him back tighter as you felt your anxiety calming down, your smile widening as he kissed your forehead, easing out your worries and you were sure you wanted to give it a try—you wanted to give you both a try. 

Yet another problem lingered in your mind. 

“So, about Mark,” you winced, knowing it’ll be disastrous.

“Shh, we’ll think about him later,” he mumbled, but the peacefulness wasn’t here to stay for long as a loud voice boomed up, indicating that Jaemin had snitched. 

“Lee fucking Donghyuck, I told you to stay away from my sister!” Mark shouted, your eyes widening as you both looked at each other. 

“Fuck, hide!”

Despite the chaos of hiding in your closet, you knew that Hyuck would always be your exception. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

TAGGING: @ajayke-reads @jenoslutie @jjaeyuns @heesuncore @celeste-hoon

© jaylaxies | tumblr

#fic : the only exception #haechan smut #haechan angst #haechan au #haechan x reader #nct smut #nct dream smut #kpop smut #donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut #haechan scenarios #nct fanfic #lee haechan smut

[the-song-of-avernus]

It's fascinating how even though you don't always hear about \ anyone other than Astarion, every origin companion in BG3 has an endgame/epilogue state that is either outright bad for them or at the very least "not as good as they deserve".

Obvious there have been books and 100,000 pages of fic and discourse written about Ascended Astarion. In the moments when he almost acts like his old self, even then it's merely humoring you with a whim.

Mother Superior DJ Shadowheart flat out admits to severe empathy for what Viconia went through, and has fully closed herself off from any sense of attachment or feeling other than Nocturne and Tav. Her continued need to find carve-outs and exceptions and loopholes parallels Viconia's own eventual disagreements with Shar. And as we know, Shar will eventually betray or abandon her if Shadowheart doesn't betray her first. It's the story of every devout Sharran we meet.

Gale, the God is a smug arrogant hubris-ridden asshole that's even mean to Tara in the epilogue. Nearly every single sentiment he expressed about why he wanted the Crown and to ascend is immediately inverted. Of course he's not going to interfere. He's a figure of aspiration. Once he received power himself he immediately forgot and forsook everyone and everything about why he wanted it in the first place. A romanced God Gale is SLIGHTLY more grounded but that's mostly just because you ground him. And if you ascend with him, that ends that.

Lae'zel's return to Vlaakith results in her ascension, which leads to her missing the party and being very dead. The things that Lae'zel claimed to value will never truly be as long as Vlaakith rules, and her not escaping and falling back into her people's death cult robs her of the ability to create a new Gith, a better Gith.

Karlach is dead, or almost as bad, a Mind Flayer. And while most of her initial personality remains, by six months in she's already grown emotionally distant and her personality is clearly and evidently being slowly overridden by the brains of the dying she consumes. She's forsaken the embrace of death for the guise of eternal continuation in her. And even surrounded by the ten people who should mean the most in the world to her, all she mostly thinks about is others' perceptions of her (ala the Emperor) and the fact that she's hungry. Mind Flayer Karlach even notes that she used to think becoming a Mind Flayer would be the worst thing ever, but now she likes it. Shades of the Emperor x1000 and a clear sign that the Karlach we know and love is rapidly becoming a memory.

and then there's Grand Duke Wyll. On the surface, it appears the happiest of the "bad" endings, but pay attention. Note how he discusses wheeling and dealing and making agreements with patriars. (How well has contracts and deals worked out for you in the past?) Oh, and in certain conditions including romance, Wyll will offer you the chance to become a Grand Duke as well - with the others being his father (Ravengard #3) and Florrick (Wyll/Ulder's longest lasting family friend). That's not a government of the people for the people. When the power is tied up by a husband, spouse, his father, and their most trusted advisor, that's the makings of a monarchy or oligarchy. Of the type of patriar power-claim to last for generations, something Wyll himself once mocked. Oh, and if you adopt a child, then you get into the worst part of it all: Wyll's been busy running a city, and oh hey, instead of y'all bringing YOUR FOUR MONTH OLD DAUGHTER with you, hey, she'll be cool being watched by the Ilmater temple for a night right? Sorry, Wyll, were you saying something a few months ago about distant parenting? Yikes.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #wyll ravengard #wyll #astarion #ascended astarion #god gale #gale the god #karlach #mind flayer karlach #mindflayer karlach #tara #lae'zel #lae'zel bg3 #bg3 epilogue #bg3 ending #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 #tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate iii #ulder ravengard #shadowheart #mother superior shadowheart #shart #bg3 shart

[yoongsisbae]

Seven Days a Week | JJK

idol!jungkook x noona!reader. Every day, Jungkook shows you his devotion, deeper than the ocean. Seven different scenarios, seven days a week.

Happy holidays! I'm thankful for my sweet readers who will forgive me for taking so long to post (I hope) :'D

Warnings: pwp (so basically like the song), bdsm because I feel like it's on brand, jealous/clingy/possessive jk because also on brand, dubcon, soft yandere, jk is sf obsessed with u, he kinda toxic tbh so if you don't like that don't read this lol, rough sex, voyeur, somnophilia, fingering, oral sex, overstimulation, voyeur, tied up, sweet aftercare eventually lol

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Jungkook wound himself around your body, held you tighter than he should. If he could bring you closer to him, he would. He couldn't help himself, sometimes, he wanted to make you cry out, make it hurt, so he could be assured of your devotion, that you'd still love him, that you wouldn't leave him at his worst. It eased his anxious heart when you leaned into his rough embrace instead of shying away, looked back at him with glistening eyes full of tears, gripped him back just as tightly and cried a soft moan.

He couldn't help himself, Jungkook loved you, and he wound himself up over thoughts of you leaving him for someone better, for someone with more time for you, someone who could show their love better than Jungkook could. Jungkook could only whisper his love to you when no one else was looking, show how much he needed you behind closed doors, in dark rooms, hidden from the public always.

Jungkook wanted to scream out to the world his love for you, but he couldn't, for so many reasons he shouldn't. It wasn't fair and it made him mad, made him jealous, so he made you scream his name instead, into pillows, behind his palm, underneath him, just hoping it would be enough to keep you with him forever.

He wanted you to ache for him night after night, think about him as much as he thought about you, at every minute, every second, every day.

MONDAY

Jungkook opens the door to his apartment.

He smiles to himself as he takes off his boots. The smell of home-cooking hits him immediately. Jungkook can hear you in the kitchen making dinner, chopping vegetables and singing.

He creeps closer, watching as you dance to music playing loudly, and unbeknowest to you, putting on a rather nice show for your mischievous boyfriend.

Jungkook can't help himself, and honestly you should be more aware of your surroundings. He's teaching you a lesson!

"Boo!"

You crumple onto the floor, screaming like you've just seen a ghost.

You smack your terror of a boyfriend as Jungkook joins you on the floor, doubling over in a fit of laughter. "You're going to give me a heart attack!" You clutch your racing heart, glaring at your giggly attacker.

"Yah! How did you not hear me? What if I had been a burglar?!"

"...in this building?" You shove him.

"What if you were alone at your place? You need to pay attention. You could have been taken advantage of!"

You cross your arms. "Shouldn't you still be at work?"

Jungkook's eyes sparkle with mirth as he helps you up. "Should I go back?" He laughs and kisses you when you pout, breathing you in.

"You look beautiful," he murmurs into your neck, hands gripping your ass, pulling you into him. "Why are you dressed up? Planning on going out while I'm at work?"

"I'm not dressed up," you argue. Your face feels hot as his eyes rake over your body. "And no, of course not, I wanted to look nice for you."

"Good." Jungkook buries his head in your shoulder, taking his time slipping his hands under the hem of your dress and exploring your body. "Because I don't want anyone else to see you in this dress but me, okay?"

He kisses you, licks across your lips, swallowing up your protests. "I'm not done cooking," you mumble between heated kisses.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the burner. "It can wait. Right now, I want something else to eat," he teases.

"But-"

He nips at your lips, rolls his tongue in your mouth until you're gasping. "I'm not hungry. Well..." his gaze travels down to your lips and then lower. "I'm hungry for you, Noona," he whispers in your ear, hugging you to him tightly.

You let a moan escape you as his breath tickles your ear, and he lets out a low heavy grunt, nipping at your lobe. He wants you closer, he grips your ass, yanking you into his growing erection.

You kiss him, giving in. Jungkook is always so very good at distracting you.

And his distractions often hit you like a whirlwind. Your idol boyfriend can easily turn up the heat from zero to a hundred with his adept hands and talented tongue.

Those hands roam your body, that tongue plays with your own. And before you know it, Jungkook is easily pressing two digits into you.

The sudden intrusion stings even in your growing wetness, filling you with pressure that turns into inescapable pleasure, sending trembles through you.

Jungkook's lips never leave yours. He loves kissing you until you're whining for him to slow down, heaving in air in the seconds his lips part from yours, your soft lips becoming swollen and sensitive the longer he stays pressed to you, until you're pushing against his chest to let you breath.

Jungkook loves the way your body squirms against him, he grabs your wrist, moving his mouth down to nip and suck at your neck as his fingers press deeper and faster into you. No matter how many times he does it, it feels like fireworks, electrifying you, an overwhelming touch that makes your legs buckle and your body shake.

You welcomed his rough touches. You couldn't pinpoint the day his usual gentleness became something more, the hesitation in his movements became confident hands holding onto your throat and deep rough thrusts he was no longer holding back, or when your stilted moans became loud and shameless, but you craved seeing that side of him, one you could only bring out of him.

Perhaps you shouldn't feed into your younger boyfriend's demanding nature so much. When he held your hand against your back, nipped at your shoulder, you should have put your foot down and told him to stop and let you finish cooking, but it felt so much better to wrap your legs around him instead and kiss him back, to let him move your body the way he wanted and give into everything. Pleasure, pain, both made your heart race the same, rose the temperature in your body almost indistinguishably.

Jungkook groans, low, hissing, whimpering. He is a vocal lover, it was never a surprising fact and only excited you more to hear how much you affected him, made you gush wetness at his deepened voice.

Jungkook groans even louder as you coat his fingers in more slick, thumb circling over your clit as he rocks his hand against your core, making you quiver and let out the most obscene sounds Jungkook's ever heard. Your sweet voice always delighted him, but this, made him rock hard.

"I missed you, Noona," Jungkook whines against your throat. Your nails dig into his shoulders and he sucks harder on the sensitive skin of your neck, making sure to mark you so others know they can't have you, so even though you can't let them know Jungkook is yours, you will have something to show off his devotion.

If Jungkook could not be with you out in the open, he would make sure your body revealed his presence nonetheless. So many times he would grip your thighs, dig his fingers into your flesh, so you would have to cover your legs from prying eyes or admit you've been held, touched, fondled to any man who dared to look at you. Just the thought of their eyes on you made Jungkook press down harder.

This tiny dress, this low cut hem and short skirt wouldn't hide his marks. He swallows down his growing irritation when he thinks of you leaving his home in something so revealing. Part of him wants to rip it off you, hide it so you'll leave in his sweats and hoodie, so you'll have part of him around you all day until he can hold you again.

Jungkook wanted to watch you fall apart on his fingers, but he had riled himself up too much now, he needed to silence his worries again, he needed to feel you around his cock instead, right now, in his kitchen. He quickly turned you around, hugged your body close to him and replaced his fingers with his thick length instead.

You loved his soft caresses, but the desperation in the way he wanted to bury himself inside your body made you burn all over. "I missed you too," you whined, pressing your hips back into him.

You cried out from the burn as you stretched around his length, gripping the counter as Jungkook filled you fuller. Jungkook fucked into you over and over, letting the frustrations of his work day out, forgetting everything but the warmth of your body, until he felt like he was bursting, then he pulled out and slapped your ass hard, pulling you into his arms.

He decided he would have his meal in the bedroom instead.

TUESDAY

You sit in Jungkook's studio, enjoying your day off with him. He's working on his newest song. You catch him staring at you and it makes you smile. He chews on his bottom lip as he mumbles the chorus to himself and you stretch your sore limbs.

Jungkook twirls his pen out of habit, singing the soulful melody softly, restless legs knocking into yours as he taps his foot.

"This is putting me in the mood," you tease when he goes over another rather scandalous line in his song.

"Yeah?" he smiles.

"Your voice is so sexy."

He smirks, tapping his pen. "Come here."

You definitely promised a certain leader you would not be a distraction when visiting. Jungkook leans back in his studio chair, spreading his legs and instead of repeating himself, he taps his knee impatiently.

What if someone comes in? What if they hear you? What if you get caught? You glance toward the studio door. "We shouldn't..."

Jungkook can't help himself when it comes to you. How can he stop himself when you say it like that? Breathy and low, and a touch of playfulness in your voice, a cheeky half smile across your full lips? He licks across his own lips, adjusting his lip ring, imagining all the things he'd like to do to you in his studio. Your gaze follows his actions, your fingers absentmindedly brushing across your mouth in response.

"Ride me." Jungkook grunts, adjusting himself. "No one will find out if you keep quiet," he whispers, smiling deviously.

You scoff, standing up and settling yourself down in his lap despite your apprehensions. "Just kissing."

"Kissing, annnnd?" He teases, grabbing you roughly to bring you closer.

"We can't," you groan when his hips press up into yours, his strong grip on your body tightening.

"So what if someone catches us? You're mine, aren't you?" he mutters.

"Yes, but-"

"I want you," he whines. "I need you. Please Noona, give it to me." He slides his hand in between your legs, fingertips dancing over your panties, pressing against the wet fabric at your center.

"I can't stop thinking about how good your pussy would feel." He steadily rubs across the sheer cloth, "Fuuuuck, let me feel you just for a second."

Your breath hitches at his obscene words, how can you deny him now? "A quick one," you kiss him with no time to waste, hiking up your skirt higher. "Just for a second," you remind him.

Jungkook grunts in satisfaction, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down and exposing his already solid erection, tongue exploring your mouth as if the taste of you is the only cure for the hunger inside of him.

"Slow," you tell him, rubbing your pussy over his leaking cock, but he only smirks and pulls your hips down on his cock, swallowing up your whimpers.

He thrusts up fast, fucking you hard, enjoying the sight of you as you bite down screams of ecstasy, unable to keep yourself completely quiet. It's like a game, one he intends on winning, and one he certainly has the stamina and strength to win, but your tightness is proving to be formidable at unraveling his conquest of you.

He drags your shirt up, yanks your bra down until he unveils your perky nipples and he is quick to devour you, suck until you are all but overcome by the fevered attention of your body.

Until you are overcome, coming hard on his cock, shaking against him, quivering for him to relent as he does a victory lap across your body, pinching and sucking and fucking you until you are boneless in his arms, pliable to his whims.

The way you mold yourself to him, surrender your body to him, sends Jungkook over the edge quickly. It's all he wants, it's all of you.

WEDNESDAY

"Noona, it's been so long since we had sex," Jungkook groans.

"We had sex yesterday, you crazy!" you remark, giving up on the movie in front of you.

"Yeah, that was yesterday, we haven't had sex today at all." Jungkook runs his hands down the curves of your body, enticing you even further away from the action on the television.

It works, his hands touching your body, his softly spoken words of encouragement, so needy and persistent, rile you up to the point where you can’t help but give in to Jungkook.

The tips of his fingers are electric as they run down your skin. It's like you are hard wired for him, turned on by him so easily like a flip of a switch.

And you can feel his switch turning up too, pressing against your leg, growing bigger and bigger and more demanding to be touched.

Jungkook was practically hardwired for you too. It's probably why he gets hard just sitting beside you, so suddenly when you are just cuddling or talking. And like a switch being flipped, his whole demeanor changes, gone is your cute cuddly boyfriend. Jungkook's eyes go dark and determined, he breathes out low and seductive, and you can't help but fall into him further.

The way he explores your body and groans deeper sends jolts of energy through you, his strong hands caressing your stomach and sides, carefully pushing up your shirt and grabbing your tits, his body pressed tight against you as he moves on top, in between your legs, your heat and his meeting and fitting together so perfectly; it makes you frenzied for him.

You finally reach for him, grip his shoulders in a vice and arch into him, needing him impossibly closer.

Jungkook presses his head deep between the valley of your breasts and inhales raggedly, it’s shocking and makes you practically delirious with lust. You thought your sex drive was abnormal, but your younger boyfriend really could go all day and all night, probably every hour on the hour, if you let him.

”Please…” you rasp.

”Please what, baby?”

You bite your lip, too shy to ask him. Jungkook grins. He loves when you act like this, needy and whiny for him, cute and shy.

You may be older than him, but Jungkook’s always been the dominate one in the relationship, and if it weren’t for a few very calculated ‘y/n Noona’s amongst company, your friends would have never guessed he was the youngest between you.

You acted like you hated when he called you ‘Noona,’ as it was a sore reminder that you were at a disadvantage by societal standards, but really, alone together, when Jungkook softly whines for you, it’s just another switch that brightens your love for him, your desire for him….

“Please, fuck me,” you whisper, barely audible.

”What, baby?”

You wrap your legs tighter around his lean waist, diving your hand in between your bodies to reiterate your desperate need for him.

Jungkook moans deeply and lays heavy over you, head nestled back into the softness of your body. He lets his tongue lick across your neck and shoulder as you wrap your fingers tightly around his erection.

With his eyes no longer penetrating you, Jungkook falling apart over you, your head less cloudy by his intoxicating attractiveness, you can whisper what you want most directly in his ear. “Please fuck me. I’m so wet for you.”

Jungkook groans, “Fu-uck.”

”Fill me up with your cock.”

He lifts himself up. ”Yeah, you want my cum?” 

His eyes rack over your body. You nod quickly, wavering in your confidence. 

As if somehow your boyfriend knew the insecurities surfacing inside you, he runs his hand softly over your cheek and down your neck, cupping your breast. “You’re so sexy, so good to me,” he breathes out, barely containing himself from ravaging you. “Want me to fuck you full of my cum, Noona?” He smirks, hand placed back against your cheek, thumb finding it’s way inside your mouth to press against your bottom lip.

He knows it already, he knows you.

”Yes,” you whisper breathlessly, grinding against his cock. “I want you, fu-uck —oh— please.”

Jungkook dives in for a kiss as you guide his cock through your slippery folds. He swallows up your moans eagerly as he thrusts his hips to meet yours.

You choke on your own cries, the air knocked out of you by his deep thrusts as you tighten yourself around him, holding onto him like a lifeline.

You really could drown in him, let yourself float deeper in the ocean of Jungkook’s love until his slippery embrace was all that surrounded you and all that you wanted. It was easy, natural, to sink deeper, to love him like you needed him to breathe.

One day you’ll reach the climax to that movie, but not tonight. Tonight, his climax is the ending you excitedly reach for.

THURSDAY

Sometimes you went days without him, some nights you would be fast asleep before Jungkook came home, some mornings he would be gone before you woke.

So each moment you had with the famous singer you treasured. But…

You also have to admit, there are some moments where you just want to…

Smack your boyfriend in the back of his beautiful head for being so aggravating!

You get so little time with him…not enough…and today Jungkook chose to spend that time giving you…the silent treatment!?

-

“Why are you mad? Talk to me.” You ask, after riding home with him in silence.

Jungkook bites his tongue.

“I’m leaving!” You groan, turning on your heel and heading back towards the front door. You didn’t want to leave, but being ignored by your boyfriend after missing him for so long was far far worse.

“Where are you going?!” He yells. “Going to see Jaehyun!?”

“What? No?! Wait, what?!” You stammer, perplexed.

Jungkook crosses his arms and looks away muttering to himself.

“JUNGKOOK, WHY ARE YOU SO MAD?”

“WHY DID YOU LET HIM FEED YOU?” Jungkook bursts out.

“Huh? Who? Jaehyun?!”

“Yes!”

“When did he-”

“The wrap!”

Your mind runs through tonight’s dinner party where you met up with Jungkook and his friends. You hadn’t even wanted to go, things like that made you anxious, but you missed your boyfriend like crazy and didn’t want to wait a second longer to see him.

In places like that, you had to make sure to keep Jungkook at an arm’s length, you never knew when a close moment in public could be used against you; so the few, the better.

You sat next to his friend Jaehyun, and he might have helped you make a wrap, now that you think about it…

The others teased Jungkook, noticing the irony of the situation when Jaehyun helped you pull away two perilla leaves stuck together, and Jungkook whined and acted angry and eventually laughed along.

Well, at least you thought it had been an act…

Clearly, it was not.

“Jungkook, really, Jaehyun? You’re jealous of him?”

“I'm not jealous!” And then he can’t help but add, “When we first met, whose picture did I find in your phone?”

“....I don't r-remember?” You definitely do remember.

He looks at you pointedly.

“…Jaehyun’s?”

He glares at you, seemingly furious at the fact that he made his point.

“Okay? So, what? You think this whole time, I’ve just been pining for Jeong Yuno? Just biding my time with you until I can be with Jeong Yuno?!”

“No-” he pouts.

“You don't believe me when I tell you I love you? You think I'm a liar?” You ask, on a tirade now.

“No-no. I just-”

“What?!”

“I'm sor-”

“Jungkook, I haven't seen you for over two weeks. Do you know how much I looked forward to tonight, to finally be with you? To see you? to spend time with you? The only reason I went to dinner is because you asked me to!”

Jungkook stays stubbornly quiet.

“I should go.”

Jungkook hugs you from behind before you can reach the door, pressing himself to your back. “No, don’t go, please don't go.”

You reach for the door handle. “I want to leave.” You didn't. You much rather enjoyed the heat of Jungkook’s body wrapped around you. But you’re mad now too and wanted to make a point.

“No.”

“Let me go.”

“I can't.”

Jungkook kisses your neck. He extinguishes your anger with each little peck, kisses like raindrops against your skin, fizzling out your heated disposition.

You turn around, glaring into his eyes. He would hate it if you ignored him like that, he would whine about it for hours!  And Jungkook is still mad, it’s a hard emotion for him to just let go of, even when he believes you. He had worked himself up thinking of his friend and you, imaginary scenarios where you left him for someone easier to be with, someone better than Jungkook.

He kept catching moments where his friend and you held each other’s attention. The way Jaehyun and you looked at each other and giggled when ‘it’ happened. 

Argh he hated it!!!! 

Jaehyun’s chopstick touched yours…he basically indirectly kissed you at that point! The next time you meet him, what’s gonna happen next, are you gonna fuck each other-

”What’s wrong now?” You whine out.

Jungkook gripped your head in his hands, smashing his lips into yours so fiercely you squeal in surprise. 

It almost works, his kiss and his body that you ached for all this time. You don’t hate him, you love him, you love his stupid over reactions and his possessive nature and his passion-

“Ow!”

You smack him away when he bites your bottom lip harshly.

“I'm sorry.” Jungkook is not sorry.

And you know it. You glare at him, grip his neck and kiss him roughly, biting down on his bottom lip, paparazzi photos be damned.  Jungkook hisses in pain, gripping you back harsher. You try to move away, close your mouth tightly, knowing he will try to bite you back harder, but he becomes desperate to kiss you, have your mouth, your tongue, have all of you, gripping your jaw tight, pressing so hard into you that your lips finally part for him.

You struggle and whimper and it only makes Jungkook more fevered. He yanks you off your feet before you know it, dragging you away from the exit, from the possibility of leaving him alone-

No no no, you had been so far away from him for so long. He needed you here. Right here with him. He needed your mouth on him and your skin on him, he needed to have you, and he especially needed to keep you away from anyone else.

His teeth drag along your skin. Jungkook is harsher than he usually is, which is saying a lot, and his rough touches make you feverish and aching for what’s to come and questioning if you want to continue. You dig your nails into Jungkook’s wide back, he sucks marks into your skin without any hesitation.

You squirm, his overwhelming affection rips through you and leaves you tingling, pulsing, gushing. He touches your body like he owns it, and he tells you so, grunting “mine” against your heated skin.

You're going to come for him, you're going to bare your body for him, you're meant for him and no one else, he can't take the thought of you with anyone else, he can't…

He kisses you like he has something to prove, wanting to make up the hours not with you.

You push against him but he's solid like a rock, he’s not going to move from on top of you.

He grunts, smelling you. “I don’t want anyone else to touch you but me.” “He didn’t touch me,” you remind him.

“His chopstick touched yours-”

You giggle, half groaning. “His ‘chopstick’ did not touch me.”

“His actual chopstick.” Jungkook’s anger is still evident, even when his eyes soften, his gaze darkens again.

“Okay, okay. Just don’t ever ignore me like that,” you pout. “You would hate it if I did that to you.”

”I know. I’m sorry, Noona.” He kisses you softly in apology. And once again, his kisses become rougher, more urgent, until you’re yanking at each other’s clothes again, squeezing handfuls of each other, becoming louder and louder in contest.

Perhaps you are too forgiving, but no one is perfect and yet your boyfriend comes very close.  

Perhaps you just want to appreciate these moments, so sweet and delicious, forget the sour ones, and your appetite is too ravenous, you hungered for him, you drooled for a taste of him.

“So wet...Noona, you’re so wet...” Jungkook’s fingers sped up inside you. His other hand tangled itself in your hair, kept you from avoiding his gaze.

You gripped his thick cock in response. “So hard,” you moan.

You match each other’s pace, an unspoken race to see who reaches the finish line first. Jungkook refuses to lose, so he hikes you leg up higher, pushing his cock into you instead, setting his own brutal pace.

He fucks you hard, until you cry out the way he likes and shake exactly how he wants.

He circles your clit until you’re trembling. You grip his wrist but he's stronger than you and it doesn't deter him, digits pumping inside you at an unrelenting pace, intent on punishing you for the earlier night, Jungkook thinks you deserve a little punishment as long as you are enjoying it.

You clench around his cock so tight it’s painful for him to try to hold back any longer, but it’s an ache he accepts for you, like the ache he feels in his heart when you are not around, it’s all worth it to hold you in his arms and watch you fall into bliss.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Kookie.”

”Again?”

“…We’re gonna have to change these sheets.”

FRIDAY

Jungkook set his suitcase down and walked quietly through his apartment, not wanting to wake you. He found you sprawled on his bed, fast asleep, cute as ever. He gave you a quick kiss before showering. When your boyfriend came back to you, you had contorted yourself in another position, arm hanging off the bed. He moved you gently and cuddled into your side, finally feeling at home and at peace in your warmth.

His hectic lifestyle meant this often happened, even when he had you, you were already gone far away into dreamland, and it would be Jungkook's turn to wait for you. He didn't mind it, even if your mind was resting, your body was fully aware of his presence.

He rests his head on your shoulder and runs his fingertips along your body, focusing on your nipples, teasing them until they stand erect.

It was his night time ritual at this point, sometimes he'd gently pull your shirt up and admire the way they hardened slowly. Sometimes he'd lick them, desperate for a taste of you. He would play with your body until sleep overtook him, until your softness and smell and the comfort of your presence lulled him to sleep. Hotel rooms without you were such a cold loneliness in comparison, he needed to feel that heat inside you.

And occasionally, like tonight, he would reach in between your legs and softly caress your folds for even more of a taste of you, hoping to rouse you awake so he could bury himself inside the heat of you. 

"I love you." Jungkook kisses the side of your open mouth and rubs your pussy slowly.

You were so tired you couldn't even find the energy to open your eyes, you just grunted softly, acknowledging his doting presence.

Jungkook slowly presses two digit inside your leaking hole, lying his head down on your chest. He alternates his attention between your breast and your cunt, lazily licking and dipping his digits inside you, occasionally rutting against you with his semi-firm cock, content only in the exploration of your body.

Until eventually, your arm finds its way into his hair, petting the soft ringlets of Jungkook's damp strands. "Feel good, Noona?" he murmurs.

"Mmmm."

Your eyes were still closed, your jaw still slack, part of you still present inside your dreams. But your legs widened and your cunt tightened around his digits, your walls sucking his fingers in.

"Can I fuck you?"

"Mmmmm."

You were dripping wet at this point, and it takes only one more squeeze from your silky walls for Jungkook to roll himself on top, pressing the head of his cock into you.

Jungkook lies on top of you, relishing in the feel of your pussy, tight and wet around his cock.

He almost falls asleep, the way your entire presence envelopes him makes him feel so relaxed and safe. After a long plane ride home, he wanted nothing more than to sink into you further.

But you whimper softly, gushing wetness around his member, so he gives you what your body wants, give it to you slowly, steadily, building the pleasure up for both of you. He could do this all night: rock into you, hold you and lie with you.

But you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his back and whimper, kissing his forehead, moaning out loud.

Jungkook finally lifts himself up, thrusting into you hard. Normally you would have squirmed and cried out at his sudden roughness, but your sleepy body rocked against his sheets and you arched your back into him instead.

"Fuuck. Noona, can I come inside?"

"Mm."

Jungkook spills into you, cock pulsing against your walls, filling your pussy full of his cum, then falls on top of you, spent, sighing against you.

You arch into him further, wanting release but too tired to voice your needs.

"Let me rest," he murmurs tiredly, slowly pressing his fingers inside your throbbing core, plugging his cum inside you. "Just for a bit, I promise, I'll make you cum, Noona." Jungkook rests his head next to you and closes his eyes, fingers stilling inside your walls.

It's almost torturous, but you don't even realize how needy you've become. You softly lift your hips up, rutting against his palm, until your dreams take you away again.

You dream of him, of course. You dream of his tight muscular body pressed against yours, his soft lips and sweet voice whispering dirty things into your ear. You dream of Jungkook fucking you until you scream and cry out his name over and over again. You dream of his fingers deep inside your walls, teasing out your orgasm until you're shaking, convulsing in unimaginable pleasure.

And suddenly your whole body stiffens and your legs lock around Jungkook's head as you come violently on his tongue.

You lift your head up and see your boyfriend smiling wide, head resting against your mound. "Morning, baby."

SATURDAY

"Jungkook, help! Jungkook!"

Jungkook comes running into the room, panicked at your yelling, and then he finds you...

…and begins to laugh.

You can hear your boyfriend's hysterics behind you. "This is not funny! Help!" you grunt, annoyed.

Jungkook sees you, legs kicking, body upside down over the armrest of his sectional, stuck in between the couch and the end table. "I tried to find where the cell phone charger went," you whine.

You push up on your elbow, but you have put yourself in such an awkward position you can't catch enough momentum to lift yourself up. "Heeelp! Pull me up!"

Jungkook surveys the situation closer and you closer. With the help of gravity your night shirt has ridden down over your behind, presenting the most enticing view of your bright red panties to your still laughing boyfriend. 

You grunt and try to push yourself up again, palms pressing against the wood flooring, but your center of gravity is too low to lift yourself alone and you can not change your position in the cramped space without bumping your head. Your boyfriend places his hands on your hips and you sigh in relief, until-

"Hey!" you yelp. Your very mischievous boyfriend starts to massage your backside, kneading your suppleness, moving closer and closer to…

"Fuck, you did this on purpose, didn't you?" Jungkook groans, gripping you tightly, two big handfuls of your bare ass. "Damn…"

You can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "I'm not!" Jungkook slaps your backside hard, his palm spreading across the arch in your back. "Hey!" You squeal. "Help me up!"

"And if I fuck you instead?"

"Or you could help me up and we can-" your arms are getting tired, "-ugh— go to the bed?"

He pats your backside again, "Get up then," he laughs.

"I can't," you whine.

“Aww you really can’t lift yourself?”

“C’mon, you’re making me feel old,” you pout.

He yanks you up. Just a bit. Just to position yourself better for his viewing pleasure.

“Try again,” he laughs.

You straighten your arms once again, lifting your body. You almost made it, so close, but your backside collides with the growing bulge in Jungkook’s pants and you fall down over the couch’s arch again. Is he j-just over you? Watching you?

“Sorry, Noona,” he pauses, “but can’t we try it out?” He resumes the kneading, moving closer and closer to your core, until his nimble fingers slide over your slit and under your panties, pulling them down.

Jungkook’s proposal is tempting, his touches feel good, and although you and your boyfriend have christened most of the areas in his apartment, this is definitely a new endeavor.

“I guess- oh!” Jungkook presses himself all the way inside you. Had he been ready this whole time?

His pace is quick, not wanting to waste any time. He thrusts into you deep, the hard cushion of his couch making it so there is no escaping the length of his cock and the deepness of his ruts. There’s no escaping him, not that you want to…

You can’t do much of anything but hold yourself up, keep your arms straight, be good for him and take his cock.

It makes your toes tingle realizing how trapped you were to his whims as you let yourself be used by him. You wonder what Jungkook’s thinking, why he’s so enthusiastic, does he enjoy the fact that he has you helpless, unable to fight back? Does he like using you like this, a hole to fuck?

Is it depraved that you are enjoying this so much, that you are so turned on, that you’re nearing climax already.

His hand spreads your cheeks wider so he can admire himself disappear inside you. His thumb presses against your other hole as he takes in all of you, all his.

His thumb presses inside as he grips your ass tighter until its disappeared inside you like his cock. You’ve never felt so full before, so thoroughly used. Jungkook can feel your tightness, your gushing wetness. He listens to the heightened pitches in your moans. He’s nearing his high as well… 

His cock swells as he moves faster, finding the pace that he likes most, cock rubbing your slippery walls at the perfect angle to send him to climax. 

“I’m gonna come,” he grunts, shoving himself inside you deeper, cursing at how good you feel wrapped around him. He could never get tired of this, your silky walls and soft skin and the smell of your arousal consuming him. It makes him addicted, he’s addicted to you.

“Oh shit,” he pulls out, finishing across your exposed ass and finally finally Jungkook lifts you up and lays you across his couch, taking space next to you to relax.

“Fuck, I liked that.”

”Yeah?” You hum.

“Noona, I want to tie you up.”

Your cunt clenches at his confession.

“Hmm tomorrow.”

SUNDAY

"The food was so good," you hum, "thank you." You squeeze your boyfriend's hand as you walk hand in hand to his motorcycle. The plates presented to you were so beautiful, tasted amazing, and the whole night felt so romantic. The cozy atmosphere made every moment feel so special, made you fall in love with Jungkook all over again.

And stepping into the cool night air made the end of the night feel like a weightless dream. Walking hand in hand with your boyfriend under the stars as the wind picks up, you think this must be how birds feel flying together. You feel so free.

"I'm fine with takeout for next time, you know. You don't have to be so...extravagant." You sigh.

"It's our anniversary. You deserved a real date."

You chew on your lip, bringing up the giant elephant you tried to ignore all evening. "What if someone took a photo-"

Your idol boyfriend kisses your worries away. "That's what the private room was for, baby."

You fidget anxiously. "What if one of the servers recognized you, or the kitchen staff-"

Jungkook shakes his head, smiling, "My friends come here with their girlfriends all the time."

"Yeah, but they're not you."

Jungkook hugs you, leaning the weight of his body into yours. You stumble into the side of his bike and giggle but hug him tighter.

Under the dark night, the yellow street lamps, you give Jungkook a chaste kiss.

He smiles, licking his lips and kissing you again.

"What if someone sees!"

"The restaurant has been closed for over an hour, everyone's gone home," he murmurs into your lips.

"Not the staff," you mumble as he kisses your neck.

"No one is around," he whispers teasingly. He wants you, here, now, all of you around him. "This might be the only time we can..."

Maybe it was the romance of the night, or your need to please him after such a grand gesture, or your ache to indulge in him and his irresistible charm, but you couldn't find it in you to stop Jungkook's advances, even when his hand went under your dress.

He grips under your thigh, hiking your leg over his hip.

You lean against the seat of his motorcycle. This is crazy, this is insane. It's like he's asking to get caught. He's insane. He's...so sexy.

You hide your face into his shoulder, listening to him quickly unzip his pants.

It's so out in the open, so impulsive. The bike's metal is cold against your thighs and Jungkook is so so hot. You grip his biceps, nails digging into his big muscles. The angle is awkward and the stretch is tight, and his first thrust in knocks the wind out of you.

Fuck...fuuck...it feels so good, he smells so nice, and your adrenaline is so high over the thought of you both getting caught you think you may come with only a few more deep plunges of his cock inside your tight walls.

Until you think you might have caught something out of the corner of your eye and you hastily stop him and plunk his helmet right on top of Jungkook's head, concealing his identity. 

Jungkook hugs you close and you laugh when his helmet knocks into your forehead. "C'mon you crazy. Let's get out of here and finish what we started, hmm?"

-

Jungkook was worked up, painfully hard, and you very naughtily only made it so much worse for him on the ride home with your body pressed tight against his back and your hands caressing his abs down to his cock. He almost takes you again once he arrives in the safety of his garage. He almost takes you in the elevator when it feels like time stretches the closer you get to his floor. He almost takes you right against his front door as you play with his belt buckle and nip at his neck while he fumbles to open the lock.

And then back in seclusion again, back home, he can have you finally...

 Jungkook drops you onto soft sheets, crawling over you. 

"I want to tie you up." It is a special day.

"Okay."

"Yeah?" he smiles cutely, or perhaps deviously, it's so hard to tell sometimes with your boyfriend.

"Yeah," you kiss him, "Happy Anniversary." You kiss him again. "Please, tie me up, Jungkook," you whisper in his ear.

"Fuck." Jungkook has been practicing his knots, and he decides he wants your hands behind your back, one of your legs tied to his headboard. He secures a knot under your knee, spreading your legs.

Perfect. You're perfect. You were perfect tonight, the way your eyes sparkled during your date with him, perfect when you cheekily teased him and that sparkle turned mischievous, and now you're so perfect as you look at him shyly, your eyes shining in anticipation at what he's going to do next to you. 

Jungkook can't wait to make those eyes cry in pure bliss tonight.

He kept the expensive lingerie you wore tonight for him on. He pushes your panties to the side so he can run his fingers along your slit, gathering your wetness to push back into you. You're so wet for him, already soaking from the night's previous activities.

"How's it feel, you okay?" he asks, "Nothing too tight?"

"No," you mewl out, squirming against his knots.

"Ugh, Noona...you’re so fucking wet," he grunts, quickening his pace as he watches his fingers disappear inside you. He presses down on your untied thigh to hold you still and hooks his fingers inside you, pads prodding around until you arch your back, responding to his stroking of you.

When your boyfriend sets his mind on something, there's nothing that can stop him, and Jungkook's decided he is going to make you fall apart, put you back together, mold you for him.

He strokes you with his fingers until your thighs are shaking. You grip onto your bindings, let the rope around your fingers ground you as you tighten your hold and clench down on Jungkook's digits. 

"Ahh that's it, look at you, so pretty, so fucking pretty. You're my fucking girl, all fucking mine."

"Oh, Jungkook." You're so close, it's building, tickling and deep and so overpowering, letting go is the only thing your body can do now. You spasm around Jungkook's digits, so tight around his fingers they finally stop their unrelenting movement. He pulls down the cup of your bra to massage your breasts until you fully relax and your harsh breathing becomes only soft pants.

You're tired but you open your mouth wide and invite him in when Jungkook crawls higher, positioning his throbbing cock against your lips. He slides his length over your tongue and down your throat until you're choking, gagging. And he fucks your mouth again and again, until you're sloppy, crying from his thickness, at how tight it feels, at how good it feels to see his brows furrow and his tongue play with the ring on his lower lip as he watches you choke down his length.

"You like that? You like being treated like a slut, yeah?" You whimper against his cock, thick and hot on your tongue. "My dirty little slut."

He grunts out louder, fucking your throat faster, deeper. Your high pitched whimpers match his moaning, becoming louder and more protracted, until he stills, his hips stuttering, and you start to feel his hot cum pool in your mouth. Jungkook slumps down against you, lying his head on your stomach.

You let his juices flow out of your lips and down your chin as you take in breaths. You're so warm and soft between your legs, everything about you is soft, your skin, the curves of your body, and he enjoys grabbing at you, holding you in his arms. Your slick is covering your pussy, and Jungkook starts his ministrations again, fingers deep in your sex.

"Noona, you look so sexy." You look down at your handsome boyfriend, smiling in between your legs. You feel so vulnerable and exposed to him, unable to shy away from his gaze, but the fluttering inside you jumps to your heart when Jungkook smiles and mouths 'I love you.'

He fingers you skillfully, and you don't even realize how close you were until you're coming again, body programmed to give Jungkook what he craves. He continues to play with your pussy, stroking against your sensitive walls. It becomes too much, inescapable pleasure, burning you from the inside out. The sounds of sex fills his quiet bedroom, the noise of your slick, your whimpering, your cries. He closes his eyes and revels in it, taking in your sweet sounds and the smell of you.

The pressure is too much, "I can't, no more," you whine. 

"I'm not done. Be a a good girl for me, Noona." You clench around him, at his words spoken so heatedly yet so softly.

"No- m-more," you cry out.

"I said I'm not done, understand?"

You shudder, writhing under him, your bindings pulling tight around your limbs. He replaces his fingers with his cock. You clench around him tighter as suctions his lips to your nipple, sucking harshly, thumb pressing against your clit. "Fuck, you feel so good. I could fuck you every day." He finds your tied wrists, interlacing his fingers in yours, rocking his hips into your core so deep the pleasure blinds you.

You breathe through your teeth, limbs locked at the pleasure inflicted across your body. 

You cum in silent ecstasy, drenching his cock in your juices. Jungkook's release follows you almost immediately, "Yes —ah— yes." His breathy words echo in your ears, every other thought lost in his presence.

Jungkook finishes and quickly unties you, pulling you into his embrace. "Let's go shower?"

"I think...a bath...my legs," you pant.

Jungkook kisses you sweetly and nods, lifting you in his arms.

You sigh and rest against him. You feel secure and safe with Jungkook, in his strong embrace, the way he holds you easily, you know he's got you and he'll never let anything happen to you. It's probably why you let him get away with so much, because he always takes care of your needs in the end, makes you feel loved like no other.

You gently kiss his neck, cuddled against him as his large tub fills with water.

The filling bathtub makes it easier on your tired limbs and you turn around, straddling your boyfriend.

"Mmm," Jungkook smiles against your lips as you place a series of quick kisses against his mouth. "Just relax, Noona."

"What? You don't want to?" you giggle.

"I just want to relax with you."

"Well maybe I don't want to take no for an answer," you tease.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," you sigh, letting your body slump into him more.

"I don't think I can go another round tonight," he laughs.

"Really, you sure you're okay?"

"Ahh maybe I'm getting old too."

"TOO?"

Jungkook laughs and hugs your tightly, tickling you before you anger becomes too palpable.

"I love you."

"I love you too, old man."

---

Let me know your favorite day :3

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #yandere bts #bts yandere #yandere jungkook #bts imagines

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Gorefest.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen).

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Gore, Blood, Major Character Death (Reader Is Fine), Implied Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Touching, Prolonged Stalking, and Delusional Behavior.

You found his latest gift on your doorstep.

It was a heart, this time – deflated but otherwise fully intact, blue viens still visible against pink flesh. A small puddle of blood and other gelatinous viscera surrounded it, but you ignored that in favor of wrapping the disembodied organ in your cardigan and unlocking the door to your apartment, too exhausted to fumble with your keys and too worn down to pretend you still thought you could get away from him on your own. His present was dropped into the ever-bubbling vat of crimson slurry you used to boil down his gifts until they’d been reduced to a less incriminating state, your shoes kicked off and left by the door. You didn’t bother turning on any lights. You were home, but you didn’t want to let yourself acknowledge that until he was gone.

You found Gojo in his usual spot; on the floor of your bedroom, his hands still stained red and one of your threadbare sleepshirts crumpled at his side, the dark material stained with something white and awful. That made two articles of clothing ruined, tonight. A few months ago, when the most he ever brought you was a half-beaten bouquet of roses and a list of questions for the strange man whose favorite place in the world seemed to be your living room, you would’ve been tempted to demand that he pay for the damages. You’d learned better than to imply you wanted anything from him, since then.

He was lying on his side, toying with something large and vaguely circular, his grin that of a cat dropping a slaughtered mouse at its owner’s feet. He was surrounded by more of his ‘presents’ – the disembodied organs of whatever poor criminal or curse user he’d taken it upon himself to dissect. You were glad you’d kept the lights off. You could see the outline of small intestine strung along the walls, assorted gore left in carefully considered piles wherever Gojo deemed it necessary. It’d take hours to clean up, after he left. Demanding that he help would only give him the impression that you wanted to spend time with him, and you weren’t going to make that mistake twice.

You moved to speak, but as always, he just had to be the center of attention. It was like he couldn’t imagine a world where you might’ve done anything but focus on him. “Welcome home,” he half-sung, pushing himself up and pulling his oblong, mishappen keepsake into his lap. “Do you want to start with dinner, or should I run you a hot bath? Or, if you want, you could always have a little of me—”

“Shut the fuck up.” And then, pointing in the general direction of your front door, “Get out.”

“So cold, babe. And after I went through all that trouble to set this up.” The coppery stench was starting to get to you. You could only pray the neighbors wouldn’t notice, or that you’d be able to think of a feasible enough excuse by the time they did. “I got hurt for you, too.” He held up a hand, gesturing towards the faintest, shallowest cut on his cheek. “Aren’t you going to dote on me? You know, like you used to – after you found me in that alley and bandaged my wounds. What was the first thing you said to me? That I was too pretty to bleed to death alone?”

You didn’t encourage him with a response, only crossing your arms over your chest and deepening your scowl. “Get out,” you repeated. “I don’t want you here.”

His grin only broadened. “If you keep saying things like that, I might start to think you’re trying to get me to leave.” Exasperation bled into your agitated expression, and Gojo let out a bark of a laugh. “Look, I know you like to play shy, but I’d really like it if we could use tonight for us. We could watch a movie, or—”

You let out a frustrated groan, dragging your hands over your face. “You know what? Fine. If you want to be here so badly, then stay.” You shut your eyes, standing a little taller. “I’m getting out of here.”

“Running off to spend the night with another man? Ah, what a cold-hearted temptress I’ve fallen for.”

“Oh, I’m going to do more than just spend the night with him.” You really should’ve shut your mouth. You should’ve bitten your tongue, swallowed your pride, refused to tell him anything save for the fact that you weren’t going to stay here any longer. But, the blood in the air was getting to you and you could still feel the cold flesh of the heart against your palm and you needed to get away, and you needed Gojo to know you were never coming back. “I met someone – a sorcerer. He knows you’ve been stalking me, and he offered to help.” You flashed him a grin, almost as awful as his own. “His name is Nanami, and he’s strong enough to keep me safe from people like you.”

You waited for him to laugh, to say he didn’t believe you, or better yet, to get angry, to feel a fraction of the dread and the rage he’d forced onto you. When he didn’t say anything, didn’t scream or yell or gloat, you opened your eyes. He was still staring, but his smile was softer, his eyes half-lidded in a way that could only mean something bad. “Oh, baby,” he started, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Whose heart do you think I went through so much trouble to bring you?”

A pebble threatening to slip off of its cliffside; two ends of a torn wire, a hair’s width away from connecting. Whatever he was trying to tell you, you just couldn’t seem to process it. “What?”

“Right. I’m sorry, sweetheart – that’s on me,” Gojo chuckled. “You were always more of a visual learner.”

The object in his lap was taken up and rolled towards you, coming to a teetering stop at your feet, where the residual light from the hall could illuminate it properly. In a daze, you dropped your gaze to it, allowed yourself to recognize blonde hair, razor-sharp cheekbones, and glassy brown eyes staring lifelessly back at you. There was a dark bruise on his jawline, paled by blood loss, and the mangled stump that used to be his neck was encircled by ragged flesh, as if it’d been torn from his shoulders. Despite everything, his mouth was closed, lips still pressed into a thin frown. As if he didn’t have time to so much as scream before Gojo got to him.

You must’ve passed out. One second, you were staring down at the disembodied head of your savior, and the next, you were on the floor, lying limp and breathless as Nanami’s blood formed a puddle underneath you. Gojo was already at your side, hauling you up and against his chest. You felt his arms around you, then plush of your mattress against your back. You were aware, distantly, that he was straddling you, that his mouth was pressing into the dip of your shoulder, then the curve of your throat. “It’s alright,” he muttered, his voice partially muttered by his closeness. “Why don’t you come stay with me for a while, after this? I’ve got a room ready for you back at my place and everything.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Straightening his back, he let his lips crash into yours – his kiss lingering and deep and filthy. By the time he pulled away, he’d drunk the air from your lungs and frozen the blood in your veins, leaving you as empty and as lifeless as one of his gifts.

You thought, idly, of the heart being reduced to viscera in your kitchen, and wondered if you should’ve held onto it for just a few minutes longer.

“I’ll be able to spoil you properly, once I’ve got you where you’re supposed to be.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo x reader #yanderecore #yancore

[clairdelunelove]

ghost who is a firm devotee of giving his pretty girl the "princess treatment" that she deserves

ghost who drops to his knees in order to tie your shoes. before the two of you leave the house he’s triple checking to see if your shoelaces are tied because of an incident that happened once. emphasis on once. the occurrence took place when you were running extremely late and couldn’t bother lacing up your laces before jogging out the door. thus causing you to trip (in the comedic slow motion fashion) while ghost scrambled to catch you before you keeled over. you didn’t think much of it since these things happen; you’re clumsy! and sometimes get your steps muddled together. so you shrugged it off. happily patted him on the back for steadying you and chirped, “thanks, si!” then breezed by him like nothing major happened. not ghost, though. this man was stressed. and if you have the habit of just slipping on your shoes without bothering to retie the laces– then please think again. will actively sit you down so he can personally tie your laces. “you’re driving me crazy here,” he’ll grunt out as his fingers expertly work to knot the shoe’s strings. places a big hand over your thigh and firmly squeezes it if you dangle your legs away from him since it makes the task more difficult. even if you’re both wandering the streets he’ll drop to his knees if you just so happen to mumble that your laces are beginning to become untied. “‘knew it was getting loose,” you mumble disappointingly as your lower lip juts out, “could feel it when we left the car.” he stops the flow of pedestrian traffic for you. pays no attention to the arrogant businessmen who curse him or the flock of students that rush past him. ghost could be wearing his last pair of clean trousers and he’d still scuff his knees to tend to you. it’s quite a sight, in actuality. such a large man like him hunching over just to tie your shoes. a genuine act of service that he’s adamant about. you can’t help but hungrily stare when you peer down at him because he’s dressed in a dark hoodie that emphasizes the breadth of his shoulders. how a man as mighty and tremendous as he is succumbs to softness when he’s with you. “let me tie it,” he beckons for you to step towards him with a quick wave of his hand, “stay still f’me, will ya?” 

ghost who, without fail, kisses your hand before he leaves. doesn’t matter if it’s for a minimal task. you ask him to run and get some groceries for tomorrow’s dinner: he’s brushing his lips against your hand. or if he’s called into deployment: he’s taking an extra second to carry out his routine as a way of promising you that he’ll be careful. now, ghost isn’t an exceptionally verbal person. picking and finding the right words never worked in his favor. he stumbles, quite a bit, over verbally expressing his appreciation for you so he does this instead. can’t fathom excusing his downfall if it might hurt your feelings. if he walks out the door, you should 100% anticipate that he’ll press a kiss to the back of your hand and even if he is a punctual man, he can’t be bothered to rush if he hasn’t. will search the house for you (if you’re not seeing him out). and if he finds you, more often than not you’re experimenting with a recipe in the kitchen, he’ll voice, “c’mere, pup.” he melts inside when you instinctively turn to him. subconsciously invite him into your space. he’s reduced to putty when he gets a glimpse of you like this and it consumes all his willpower to push aside the urge to stay. you’re all wide-eyed and pretty just as he’s about to leave. a captivating glow surrounding you under the kitchen’s fluorescent light. “going out with the boys now, si?” you question while swiping a hand across your forehead, “tell them I said hello. I'll have to drop by to drop some desserts off to them–” your merry smile is interrupted by ghost edging towards you. he pinches his mask between his fingers to pull the fabric up, leisurely brings your hand closer to his face, and brushes his lips on your knuckles. he’s extraordinarily tender. unbeknownst to him your heart flips in your chest at his measured movements. “didn’t wanna go,” he grumbles while taking ahold of your hand in both of his, “fancied stayin’ with you f’tonight.”  

ghost who doesn’t let you open car doors– or any doors in general– when he’s with you. it could be when you’re running errands and he self-invites decides to accompany you on your little shopping spree. at first you’re a tad bit confused, not entirely anticipating that he’d wish to join since browsing at the local stores wasn’t an idea he was rather fond of. he preferred to stay inside, catch up on some rest, or busy himself with household chores so you were puzzled by his change of heart. “you sure you wanna go, si? I’m just gonna see if they have anything new,” you sling your purse over your shoulder while throwing a glance in his direction, “it’s alright if you don’t want to.” it was a quiet day too. a time where ghost could escape the responsibilities of being a lieutenant and unwind. quite frankly, his comfort was yours and you made sure to soften your voice to convey that notion. ghost, who was seated and thumbing through a small novel, simply shrugs, “‘m not doin’ anything else important, sweetheart.” and the finality in his words causes you to agreeably hum. before you can open the front door, however, ghost hastens to grab the handle. his swiftness catches you off-guard but he only raises a brow if you question him about it. won’t be the last time either because his cool, calculated movements speed up when you try opening the car door for yourself too. “si,” you can’t help but giggle a bit at his briskness, “this is getting ridiculous.” simon patiently waits until you’re fully settled in the passenger seat before grunting, “how? barmy idea you’d think I’d let you touch a door.” thoughtfully adjusts your seatbelt too. then when the two of you arrive at a store he’s hustling to grab the front entrance’s handle. will always beat you to it; regardless of the circumstances. makes you feel all warm inside even if it’s such a simple gesture. and when he speaks his tone is frank, “won’t let my girl get her pretty hands dirty.” it’s common sense, in fact. your hands are too delicate, according to ghost’s reasoning, to hold such a grimy surface. you pass by him with a sweet smile on your face, voicing your appreciation while he just opens it wider for you– falling under your spell once more.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x y/n #ghost x you

[angelstate]

“Unprioritized Love”

Husband!Price x Wife!Reader

Price is a loyal person, he thinks about everyone else before himself and doesn’t hesitate to do something he normally would be against if it means saving the people he cares for, it truly is a blessing at times, the way his priorities don’t falter…until they do.

because he is a loyal person but does not know or pretends not to know in which situations he should stand by one person instead of the other, it’s conflicting for him to choose someone when another person is also expecting his support.

it hurts a lot when you’re caught in that sort of situation with him, you’re his lover, his companion in life, and the person he returns home to, but you’re also the person he leaves behind for his team, you’re the one who waits around for him while the team gets him almost all the time.

and you know jealousy isn’t healthy, that you shouldn’t resent anyone because it's his job, he has to leave to provide for you, you cannot bite the hand that feeds you, it would be wrong, it wouldn’t be pretty, it wouldn’t be fair for him.

so you bite your tongue and nod like a child when he tells you about his job, about him going away once more, for longer this time. and the tears in your eyes are hard to be held back, because God, it hurts a lot to be left behind, all by yourself. away from your family and your lover, only an empty home to satisfy your basic needs.

He doesn’t mean to be an absent presence, the lack of a lover in your life. He truly doesn’t mean to give so little to you, to not hold you every night. but between his job and you…he knows which one he isn’t choosing even if he doesn’t say it out loud. 

“I'll be back when I can, alright?” he speaks, voice gruff as he looks around the room, his hands on his hips, you stay seated on the couch, knees close to your chest and your eyes glued to the TV for a distraction, is better to pretend you don’t care than to show him how much you are beginning to hate the dynamic he created in your life.

“mhm” you hum in agreement, taking a big breath and holding it in before exhaling through your nose, not trusting that if you open your mouth, a sob wouldn’t escape, Price notices the lack of words from your part, you always have something to say, a small joke to make about him better bringing you a souvenir or something from his “trip” but when this time you don’t speak or even dare to look at him makes him anxious.

“Want me to bring you something?” he asks, taking a few steps towards you, looking towards the TV, a baking program playing, and your focus on the show makes him raise an eyebrow, you aren’t one to enjoy cooking so he doesn't understand why you’re watching it. 

“no thanks” you respond, and the answer makes him feel like he’s done something wrong that made you upset, the last 4 days he’s been home replaying in his mind, trying to remember what could’ve made you get angry with him, nothing comes to mind sadly, and he feels clueless about everything surrounding you. 

“I thought you don’t like cooking” He decides to comment, shifting the conversation to something more banal and easy to speak about. “I started baking almost 8 months ago” you answer him back, voice flat and your eyes strained on the TV, the recipe to make pavlova having your main focus, it makes Price frustrated, how you won’t look at him, won’t give him the time of day when he’s leaving tomorrow.

you don’t expect him to know how your life develops and the things that change when he's away most of the time, it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to pay you attention when he already has a tough and complicated job to do, his salary pays for the kitchen supplies and food after all. it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to know you... god, how stupid is that?

“You didn’t tell me” Price states, his voice carrying a heaviness that reveals he is irritated about not being told something he should’ve known if he paid attention to the new things in the kitchen like the stand mixer next to the electric oven. 

“I thought I mentioned it when I gave you to try the brownies I made yesterday” you retort, your eyes landing on him for a second before returning to the TV, your gaze isn’t welcoming or warm and it creates a pit on his stomach to see you so detached and unresponsive to something he knew should make you upset.

It brings a sort of heaviness to his chest as he notices he doesn’t have the right to feel offended about not being told something when you should be upset about him not noticing in the first place something that occurred in his own home. It is hypocritical and he knows it.

Price stays silent for a long time, the sound of the TV filling in the silence that was created between the two of you, he feels out of place, not knowing how to answer you, what to do, what is the problem he feels he should be fixing right now.

“you should start packing” you comment after almost five minutes, and that phrase is said with a monotone tone, not one of sadness or a little bit of frustration that he’s leaving again, it's a tone that just states the obvious, you declare that he should pack his bag once more because otherwise he would leave with nothing for his mission and that wouldn’t be optimal.

“Can you help me pack?” He asks for a favor you often offer without him mentioning wanting your help. tonight you don’t offer assistance, almost like you aren’t faced by his departure, used to his absence, used to his side of the bed being empty.

“I’m watching TV” you speak and his heart breaks a little bit, you don’t sound apologetic as you often do when you’re not able to help him, and he’s leaving but he feels you left instead, that the girl he married is no longer in the house even though he has you in front of him, too focused on looking at the tv to help him.

he nods at your answer and doesn’t try to persuade you into doing something you don’t want to, it wouldn’t be fair to force you to help him just because he wants you to, it isn’t fair for you to give a hand and for him to take your arm. Loving someone isn’t really fair.

Only when he leaves the living room to go pack do your tears make their way out of your eyes, running down your cheeks as you cry silently, vision too blurry to even distinguish the images on the TV, it feels almost pathetic to be crying alone, your lover packing to leave and not be able to bring yourself to help him abandon you once again.

If you were his pet it would be abuse for him to just leave, but you're a woman and therefore being alone and left behind isn’t unexpected, being the one to stay home is almost an obligation when your lover leaves to provide for you even if you wish they stayed.

you’re not sure how it begins to be fair to be put in this situation, when the missions of 4 weeks turned into 4 months. When knowing everything about each other turned into barely remembering anniversaries and birthdays.

You don’t want to say the relationship fell apart because you doubt there’s anything at all to be destroyed anymore, you love him though, the pain in your chest and the tears falling from your eyes are proof of that, but you are not sure John loves you.

It’s uncertain how he views you after not spending time together for almost two years, you doubt there is nothing more than just an acknowledgment of your existence in his life, a statement that he knows you're his partner but not enough love to call you his lover.

“Why are you crying darling?” the sudden voice of Price pulls you out of your thoughts, the place next to you on the couch sinking as he takes a sit beside you, resting his elbows on his knees while his eyes examine your expression, you look utterly distraught about something, your breathing uneven and shaky as you begin to sob loudly, unable to talk as all your emotions came crashing down.

and the sight of you crying, digging your nails into your thighs, and being desperate for a peace that will not come, makes a heavy feeling of guilt and worry sit on his shoulders, wrapping an arm around your waist and another under your knees, bringing you into his lap and putting your face on the crook of his neck while you cried, sobs muffled against his skin, your tears wetting his shirt.

“take a deep breath love” Price says in your ear, your breathing so erratic that it makes him worried you will suffocate at some point because of the lack of oxygen in your body, he feels your chest against him as you do as he told you, taking deep breaths the best you can, trying to calm down for your and his sake.

you’ve never been one to cry with so much despair, to need his comfort in times of need because you managed well on your own, he was never around to solve your sorrow either so why bother? But today, he is the reason you're crying and it seems fair that he is the one to comfort you, that your only chore is to cry and keep your breathing somewhat stable while he does everything else to fix what he broke.

He doesn't know where to begin though, unaware of where he stands or what he should do to bring peace into your mind, what words will fix his mistake, and what words will tear you apart even more, he doesn’t want to cause you harm, not consciously, not right now. it wouldn’t be fair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to your heart, it would be cruel. and he doesn’t want to be cruel to you, not anymore.

“I’m sorry love…I should’ve been good to you” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth on his lap, soothing you like he would to a child, his voice low and soft, his hand caressing your thighs in a comforting manner. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t notice that you started baking, it was wrong, I didn’t notice you when I should’ve noticed every change you’ve had over the last two years” he continuous, speaking out the guilt he carried in his chest the moment he saw you and heard you break down into tears, your sobs engraved in his mind.

“I’m really sorry for missing out on all of this when I was gone, I shouldn’t have been such a bad husband, you don’t deserve that” he sighs, his eyes stinting a little bit from the tears beginning to form, and your calmer now, sniffling and whimpering, the tears slowly stopping, but it seems that your distraught was transferred to him because he doesn’t feel at ease, he feels the guilt eat him alive while he soothes you.

“I don't want you to leave…” you mumble, adjusting on his lap, your head resting against his chest, you have never wanted him to leave home, to go on missions for months on end with little to no contact with your lover, it feels like you're mourning him every time he goes away and doesn’t give you a small message to let you know he wasn’t killed.

“I know sweet girl” he replies, he doesn’t want to leave either, he never wants to, even though he continues to do so. It's a complicated situation, one he doesn’t dare to think about too much because he’ll end up ripping his heart out, his loyalty not being able to distribute equally for you and his team, always the latter winning even if he doesn’t dare to admit it.

he wants to promise you he’ll return quickly this time and will take a leave just to spend time with you, to dedicate more time to what's left of your relationship, he doesn’t want your marriage to fail, you’re the only woman he wants, the only one he had ever seen himself grow old together, he doesn’t want to let that go because of his own stupid and selfish mistakes.

He has to leave tomorrow, but when he’s back he’ll fix everything.

“I'll be back soon” he mumbles against your hair, face buried in it as breathes in your smell, trying to engrave it in his mind, to not forget this time details about you he has always loved. 

Thankfully, his promise becomes reality, and after two weeks of loneliness that have never felt heavier on your chest, he returns, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a smile on his lips, happy to see you, to see the warmth and loving gaze you always give him back in your eyes after all this time.

He steps through the door, your face pressed against his chest, refusing to let go of him, fearing he would leave even if it wasn’t unreasonable, he had returned early for you, he had seen his mistakes and was fixing what never should’ve been broken

Peace is restored in your home, love is flourishing once again in your marriage, and whatever plans you had made to start over get discarded, you’re already having a fresh start, one that doesn’t involve leaving your lover. this time is a start with a more conscious man who is ready to do everything right by you, to never let his job affect the way he loves you. He's learning that his wife comes first, that his life outside of the military also has the same and more importance than his job.

(little reminder: I'm taking requests if you want me to write something specific xx)

#angelstate #call of duty #angst #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #fanfic #call of duty x reader #cod men #captain price x female reader #captain price #john price #captain john price #price cod #cod price #price mw2 #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #john price cod #husband!price #wife!reader

[astridthevalkyrie]

xavier thinks you're cruel when you smile. everything about you is different, to the point where it feels like you're just a whole different person sharing the same face as the woman he knew. but then, when he met you as a lightseeker, he'd thought the same thing, that you were nothing like his best friend who didn't have any grand dreams of becoming a grandis knight, and only thought of living today to the fullest because she knew she would not see tomorrow. and then he'd fallen for the woman sacrificing her blood, sweat and tears just so that she could be claimed as his. and as predicted, he's fallen for you for the third time now, and he realizes that your personality could change a million times over a million lives, and he will love you more and more each time he meets you. because no matter what you do and no matter what you are trying to be, your smile blinds him each and every time. and that is what he finds cruel, because it must be cruel to make him fall for that smile again and again and again, and surely there is a limit to how many people one man can fall in love with. perhaps he's the exception, or perhaps it doesn't count because you are still one person. either way, it is torture, torture in its sweetest form that he could never hate you for, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"mister deepspace hunter," you sing, poking his cheek with a chicken plushie, "you can't sleep, we've only seen two movies."

"how many more are there?"

"three more in this series, and then we start the next fantasy series."

"you're insane," he says sweetly, burrowing further under your favorite blanket.

with a giggle, you lay your head down on his lap, hair splayed out on what he deems is your rightful pillow. "it's not a movie night if we don't stay up the whole night."

he's about to tell you that both of you need sleep, that it's not healthy to stay up this late or to pull all-nighters, but then he gazes down to where you're grinning up at him, and his heart stops for a second, because you are so, so, so beautiful, and he's gone.

sleep can wait another day.

zayne thinks you're cruel when you speak. you are reserved around him, and while he never thinks you should limit yourself, least of all on his behalf, maybe this is the most merciful path you can take. because once you do start speaking, once you place your hand over his across whichever table at whichever restaurant to go off on an excited ramble about your latest endeavor, everything else fades way. and it is cruel, to make him lose control all of all senses aside from sound. it is cruel to metaphorically force him on his knees to bend and dance to the sound of your voice and your voice alone. it leaves him vulnerable, to pain, to betrayal, to any and every harmful thing that could possibly be surrounding him, when he cannot observe, when he cannot fight, when he cannot be, while you are speaking. when every individual word you speak has its own unique significance, and he would not be able to kill anyone who interrupts you because he would not even realize it happened, too entranced by the spell you cast. he is not his own in those moments, he only belongs to you. and thankfully, nothing does befall him, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"what do you think?"

he pauses, hand in yours as the two of you walk, blinking at you a few times. "what do i think?"

"yeah, you, doctor," you tease, squeezing his fingers. "what do you think? i've been talking your head off for five minutes."

he is not jarred because he hadn't been paying attention, on the contrary he'd been hanging off your every word. his opinion simply does not matter as much in his eyes.

"i agree with you," he says, enjoying the way you beam at his concurrence, "but what did you think about the other article?"

predictably, you take the bait and launch into another long rant, and he wills this topic to last forever.

rafayel thinks you're cruel when you sleep. so, so soundly you sleep, sometimes in his own bed because he offers it to you like a fool. you look beautiful when you sleep, which is half the problem, and he knows that it is all sorts of wrong to find you beautiful when he's also paralyzed because of how similar your appearance is to death. from a distance, he could never tell the difference. it is only when he is next to you, holding your slack wrist in his hands, that he can breathe easier by pressing his fingers to your pulse. and he is terrified that one day he won't feel it, because it has happened before. one moment you were there, alive and well and his, and the next you were in his arms, lifeless and limp and somehow still beautiful. so there is no way for him to calm his racing heart when he sees you asleep, and the reason it's cruel is because he knows he cannot disturb you. not you, who works so hard and needs your sleep more than anyone else. he cannot ask you to sit up and breathe and laugh and show him that you're still alive. even though he knows you would should he ask, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"hmm." your eyes are bleary as they blink awake, hardly aware of where you are.

he slides his arms around you from behind, hiding his face in your neck. "you can go back to sleep, was just making sure you were still alive."

a quiet huff escapes you, clearly annoyed at being woken up for such a ludicrous reason. "don't be annoying."

he wasn't trying to be, this time. "okay," he whispers, "sorry."

you turn all of a sudden, shifting in his arms until you're facing him, with a light glare. another apology is on his lips when you crossly tell him, "i was kidding. you're not annoying."

"i can be. sometimes," he admits softly.

"no." you press a deep kiss to his lips, and he understands now why some humans would rather choose to drown under the sea instead of going back to the surface. "you're not annoying. you're never annoying. i love you. okay?"

his voice is choked the next time he speaks, with your face hidden in his neck, soft puffs of air on his neck letting him know that you're still breathing. a tear runs down his cheek.

"okay."

#love and deepspace #l&ds #lads #xavier x reader #lads x reader #lads xavier #l&ds x reader #xavier #xavier x you #xavier x mc #xavier x y/n #love and deepspace xavier #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel

[pupkashi]

love comes easy when it’s gojo

a/n: what are you guys talking about chapter 236 ? the manga ended a while ago lol they’re all happy and safe ! don’t be silly guys >.< (I’m deep in denial no one hmu)

wordcount: 728

masterlist

loving satoru gojo was easy.

it was easy falling in love with him when you first began talking to him, stolen glances and flushed faces when either of you caught the other.

it came to you like second nature to play along with his jokes. your minds practically syncing up the second your eyes connected, silly grins on your faces as you both cracked dumb jokes.

there was something almost instinctive that had you intertwining your fingers with his, the tv on the show now background noise as satoru practically lay on top of you.

“what should we get for dinner?” you mumbled, half paying attention to the action on the screen, eyes landing on the mop of white hair in your lap.

satoru hummed, adjusting himself so that he was on his back and staring up at you, “want me to cook?” there was a smile playing on his lips as you pursed your lips at him.

“depends” you smile, “what is chef gojo gonna cook up for us tonight?” the smile on his face was evident now as he sat upright.

“maybe some instant ramen?” eyes glimmering as he speaks up again, “im feeling a bit fancy so how ‘bout i add an egg in there too.”

“an egg? you spoil me satoru,” you tease, watching as satoru pushes himself off the couch, stretching a bit. the bottom of his shirt lifts a bit and you catch his lower belly, smiling to yourself.

“oh but when you bend over i can’t whistle at you?” he pouts, catching the way you were practically giggling.

“satoru we were in a meeting with the higher ups,” you retort. the sorcerer only scoffs, mumbling something and heading into the kitchen.

it was easy to love satoru when he was carrying you out in the pouring rain, a cheesy love song blaring through his phone speakers in his pocket.

“dance with me!” his dimples peeking out and his eyes crinkling a bit as he laughed at your now soaked shirt.

you want to be angry, you want to scold him because he just got over the flu and this is gonna be terrible for him. but the small droplets of water collecting at the end of his white hair and sticking messily to his forehead make you keep your mouth shut.

you don’t say anything as you extend your arm out, giggling when he quickly pulls you into him by the waist, immediately pressing his lips onto yours, teeth hitting each other as the two of you burst into giggles.

“cyndi lauper is your go to?” you laugh, barely audible over the downpour surrounding the two of you.

“it was either her or whitney houston ” he smiles, turning his infinity on when he sees you shiver in the slightest, being sure to include you in it.

it was easy loving satoru gojo when he was shampooing your hair, kissing your shoulder and wrapping warm towels around you.

it was easy to fall deeper in love with him when the two of you are in bed, sweet nothings being interchanged between the two of you.

“i love you, angel boy,” you whisper, loving the way his cheeks grew pink, the grin on his lips growing as he nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck.

“i love you more, sweets” his voice is softer, more vulnerable, than usual. there’s nothing on his mind except you, and there’s nothing on yours except him.

it’s when the two of you are making breakfast together, movements flowing easily as he passes you the eggs and he plates the pancakes. when you’re both sitting way too close to each other on the huge couch in the living room, pillows and blankets surrounding the two of you.

when you hand each other things without even uttering a word. when you sit in rare silence with your lover, the comfort of each others presence being enough for the two of you.

when he’s bringing home flowers or you’re making him his favorite foods, when you’re blushing at his shower of compliments and he’s running away the second you call him handsome.

it’s in between laundry loads and making plans that you both realize how easy love comes to each other.

loving satoru gojo was easy, especially when you fell in love with him all over everyday.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru drabble #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru one shot #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru fanfic #satoru gojo one shot #satoru gojo headcanons #gojo satoru headcanons #satoru gojo fluff #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader fluff #satoru gojo drabble #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fanfic #satoru gojo comfort #jjk x you #jjk Drabble #jujutsu kaisen drabble #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru x you

[peachdues]

BIRTHDAY SURPRISES — NSFW

Sanemi Shinazugawa x Reader

A/N: there is nothing redeemable about this. It’s just 7.9k words of pure filth in honor of my man’s birthday.

My husband got a boner reading this, so enjoy you whores.

CW: MDNI • Explicit sexual content • daddy!kink • elevator blowjobs • creampies • rough sex • kinky sex • brat-taming/mild dumbification • overstimulation • fluff at the end followed by more smut • not proof read lmao

Sanemi Shinazugawa has never liked the month of November.

For starters, the stupid month can’t decide what damn season it wants to be. It’s somehow too cold to really qualify as autumn and the leaves have usually fallen to the ground, brown and dead and useless, but it’s also still too warm to snow.

And November is such a tease — smack dab between two great holidays yet offering nothing but a restlessness that persists until the end of the year.

So no, Sanemi Shinazugawa isn’t fond of this time of year. But the universe has never shied away from giving him the middle finger, so Sanemi supposes he shouldn’t be surprised his birthday falls during such a bullshit month like November.

He’d been content to spend the day of his birth like he did every other year — hunkered down in his apartment with some cheap takeout, alone, without anyone to make a big fuss about it. That was the plan — his goddamn plan.

So how the fuck did he end up here?

The “here” in question is a suite at one of the city’s most exclusive hotels. The room is stuffed full of faces, some familiar but most not, packed together like sardines. The music is loud and pulsing and it threatens to give him a nasty headache.

It was Tengen who convinced him to allow this — though, Sanemi doesn’t suppose he was given much of a choice in the matter. But his friend group learned of his impending birthday a few weeks earlier, and before Sanemi could level a few, well-backed threats against any party planning, Tengen had booked the massive suite in which he now found himself, and promised Sanemi that he wouldn’t have to buy a single drink.

Sanemi agreed only on the condition that he be allowed to book a separate hotel room — several floors below where this godforsaken party now raged.

At least Tengen had meant it when he promised Sanemi wouldn’t have to spend a dime on alcohol. He took care to run up his friend’s tab by ordering several shots of Grey Goose, throwing them back as easily as water.

Hey, it was his birthday, after all.

The hotel suite is a blur of lights and colors and bodies pressed together in dark corners. Truthfully, Sanemi really can’t find any one thing to pay attention to; it’s ironic that this party is supposedly for him, and yet he feels like the most invisible person in the room.

But then he spots you — beautiful, witty, and charming you — seated in the lounge area, surrounded by both shared friends and strangers, and it’s like a spotlight has been pointed directly at you. All else seems to fall away, recessing into the shadows of the room, and his attention is locked solely on you; the star of the show that is his birthday party.

The feelings swirling in Sanemi’s chest are dangerous; lethal. He knows he should look away and accept the fact that you, with your endless pick of eligible women and men, would never deign to chase after someone like him, someone with as many scars on his heart as are seared into his skin. He knows that. He knows he’s only setting himself up to get more pissed off — to hate his birthday more than he already does.

But he can’t stop watching you.

And even if he could, he doesn’t want to. He’s only been in love with you since the moment Shinobu tugged you into a booth at a bar they all frequented. There hadnt really been any room for you to sit — not with seven of them already packed tightly onto the bench — but you’d taken one look at him and grinned, something that could only be described as mischief lighting your eyes.

“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” You’d asked him sweetly as you plopped your ass right down on his lap. “You look like you’re the comfiest one here.”

Sanemi, who was known for having a quick temper and an even quicker mouth, had been stunned into silence by the presence of a beautiful woman, perched on his knee like it was the most natural thing to sit on a stranger’s lap. His friends had been hard-pressed to suppress their smirks at the way Sanemi gaped at the back of your head, and he was fairly certain it was because you’d been so ballsy that you’d secured a permanent spot in their weekly bar rotation.

That had been over a year ago, and Sanemi’s infatuation with you grew deeper by the day.

Not that he’d ever done anything about it — even though, at times, it felt like you were all but baiting him into acting on his feelings. He wanted to believe the way your eyes followed him wherever he went in a room meant something, that your lingering touches were an invitation for more, but he could never bring himself to find out.

That cowardice, he supposed bitterly, was exactly what led him here, sitting alone at the suite room bar, watching as countless others flirted with you and you, right back.

A few times your eyes had tracked him across the room; one time, you looked as though you were about to push through the throng of people shoved into Tengen’s suite to come talk to him, but a hand on your bicep caught you and diverted your attention.

It’s then that Sanemi snaps. The moment he watches as the asshole in question pulls you against him for a slow grind, that jealous, monstrous thing in his chest rears its ugly head, growling and gnawing to be let free.

He’d hoped, for one pathetic moment, that you would push the man away, shake your head, do something that indicated you weren’t the least bit interested in him, no matter how fascinating his multi-colored eyes were, or how charming his feral grin was, but you didn’t. And the moment he sees the douchebag pull your hips flush against his, Sanemi knows he needs to get some air.

So with less grace than he knows he probably should show, Sanemi shoves his way towards the door leading out the suite and into the hallway.

Fuck it, he decides. He would go back to his room, several floors below, take a shower and hit the fucking hay. His birthday was bullshit, anyways.

He storms towards the elevators, slightly tipsy and certainly angry. He stabs a finger against the down button, his leg bouncing as he waits for the elevator to come and save him from his own party.

“What’re you doing out here, birthday boy?”

His stomach sinks to his ass at the familiar cadence of the voice behind him. Reluctantly, he turns and sees you making your way down the hallway wall, a smirk on your pretty lips and looking downright sinful in that flimsy, silvery dress that barely reaches the middle of your thighs.

That damn elevator can’t come fast enough.

“Go back to the party,” he says tightly, though he still won’t look you directly in the eyes. “Don’t let me interrupt your good time.”

You draw up short. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sanemi only scoffs and jabs frustratingly at the elevator button, willing for the telltale ding that will allow him to step into the lift and get far the fuck away from this rager he didn’t want.

From you.

“What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?” You push, resuming your advance on him and shortening the space between your bodies. “Sanemi —“

“Save it,” Sanemi bites, and because he cannot help himself, he adds, “I just don’t particularly feel like watching you spread your legs for some lowlife asshole who can’t be bothered to remember your name.”

You blink, comprehension dawning on your face before melting to anger. “That’s what you’re so pissy about?”

Sanemi silently begs the elevator to hurry the fuck up, because now you’re only a few feet away from him and he doesn’t want you to see his fraying restraint.

You fold your arms across your chest, hip jutting out to the side. “You’re acting like a bitch because some jackass tried to grind on me? Why do you even care?”

Sanemi dodges your question with ease.

“You’re the one who fuckin’ followed me out here.”

The elevator dings and Sanemi is damn near falling to his knees in gratitude at its timing. The double sliding doors have barely finished opening before he’s already inside, jamming his finger into the button marked 26, praying it’ll move faster than it arrived.

The doors start to close but a pair of hands slam against both sides of the doorway, preventing them from joining in the middle.

You stand in the center of the threshold, eyes bright and nostrils flaring, the elevator doors half-closed around you.

“It wasn’t easy to throw this party together y’know,” you snap at him, and dully, Sanemi thinks the glare you give him is strong enough to wither plants. “Everyone went out of their way to try and make you feel special, but you’ve been nothing but an asshole about it.”

“I didn’t ask you all to do this — I begged you not to,” Sanemi retorts just as hotly, his arms folding across his chest. “I didn’t want a fuckin’ party.”

“Well, what do you want?”

the silence that stretches between you is more telling than any answer he could have given. By the way your lips part, you seem to realize it at the same moment he does, and that’s when Sanemi knows he’s fucked.

The two of you stare at one another for a moment, the weight of Sanemi’s unspoken admission hanging above your heads like the sword of Damocles.

But then, the blade drops, and it must impale you both, because suddenly your hands fall from the elevator doors and are tangling in his hair at the same moment Sanemi’s fingers latch onto your waist, and your mouths slam together in a fiery clash of lips and teeth.

The elevator doors slide shut behind you right as Sanemi presses you up against the paneled wall and slides his tongue into your mouth.

At the first stroke of his tongue against yours, you tense, and for one panicked moment, he fears he’s gone too far. But then you’re melting against him, and the way you tug on his hair and whimper his name against his lips makes Sanemi loses his goddamn mind.

Time stands still and there are no thoughts in Sanemi’s brain but the feel of your hands running down his arms, his chest, pushing under the open collar of his shirt to dance along his burning skin.

They can’t get to the 26th floor fast enough, no matter how fast the numbers tick past, bringing them closer and closer to privacy —

The elevator jolts to a stop, somewhere between the 29th and 28th floors, and does not move.

It’s just his fucking luck; the girl of his dreams is pressed flush against him, her lips at his ear as she begs for him, and the goddamn elevator has forgotten how to work. If his hands weren’t so busy pushing under the hem of that slip you call a dress to fondle the curve of your ass, he might’ve put a hole through the one of the doors.

He punches the button for the 26th floor again and again, his sanity fraying with each urgent jab of his fingers, yet the elevator still does not move.

If the idea that the pair of you are stranded in a metal box of death suspended over twenty stories high bothers you, Sanemi wouldn’t be able to tell — not when you’ve decided to turn your attention someplace else.

“What’re you —“ Sanemi’s voice is hardly more than a croak as your hands busy themselves with the buckle on his belt, fumbling and tugging until the leather fastened around his hips gives way.

“Shhh!” A press of your index finger to his lips silences him. “Birthday boys shouldn’t worry!”

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his pants and suddenly they’re following you down as you slide to your knees before him.

Sanemi’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the way your half-lidded gaze drifts from his face down his body, coming to rest on the tent of his briefs, jutting out from between his thighs.

Your voice is syrupy and warm as you whisper, “I guess I should let you have your first gift,”

Sanemi forgets how to breathe when you peer back up at him, your eyes suddenly round and wide; he nearly forgets how to stand when you lean forward and press your cheek against the side of his cock where it strains against his underwear.

Sanemi sucks in sharply through clenched teeth at the sudden rush of cold elevator air against the heated, sensitive skin of his bare cock, your fingers having tugged him free from the confines of his briefs.

“F-first?” He can’t stop the way the question stutters out, not when your lips, just barely gazing against him, drag from his base to his tip. The soft exhale of your warm breath up his length has his hands shooting behind him for something — anything — to grip.

You hum in confirmation, and Sanemi’s vision almost blacks out when your tongue peeks past your glossy, red-stained lips to trail over his leaking head.

“But you’ll have to wait ‘til we get to your room before you can unwrap the next one.”

Sanemi swears he’ll set the entire hotel building on fire if the elevator doesn’t start working in the next fucking minute. His vicious promise, however, fades to the back of his mind, along with every other coherent thought he’s ever had as your lips part around his head and you take him into your mouth.

“Holy fuck,” Sanemi hisses and his head falls back against the elevator wall with a dull thump.

You him pleasantly around his cock and Sanemi nearly cums right there, the vibrations from your mouth too sweet, adding gasoline to the already raging inferno of his desire.

At first, you keep your hands primly folded behind you, only allowing your mouth to work his shaft. Every time you slide up off him, you curl your tongue against the underside of his cock and every time, Sanemi has to draw upon every morsel of self-restraint he possesses to not buck further down your throat.

But soon, your hands pat their way to his, and you bring his hands against either side of your head. You hold them there for only a moment, just long enough for Sanemi’s stomach to flip as he realizes what you’re giving him permission to do.

You peer up at him with those big eyes, so wide and deceptively innocent, and he knows you’re trying to kill him.“Motherfucking — Y/N,” he moans, threading his fingers through your hair. “Fuck.”

With his grip in your hair secure, Sanemi begins to fuck your mouth. His cock slides in and out of your heat, every push shoving a little more of himself further into your mouth. You only relax your throat, your tongue still curling against the underside of his shaft in a way that makes Sanemi see white.

Sanemi’s hold on your hair tightens. “Fucking take it,” he pants, hips bucking against your face. “My little cock whore.” From his position over you, Sanemi can see the way his words make you squirm with need, your answering moan long, and deep.

Your hands flutter to the side of his thighs, and Sanemi almost winces at the prick of your nails against his skin. But despite the saliva steadily trailing down your chin and the guttural sounds choking in the back of your throat, you’re tugging him closer, your fingers inching around to grip his backside, pressing him closer and closer to you until your nose brushes his groin.

The elevator jolts with movement and resumes its descent, but neither of you notice. All Sanemi can focus on his the way his tip bumps against the back of your throat, and how your cheeks hollow against him as he ruts into your mouth.

Sanemi makes a strangled noise in the vague shape of your name. “I-I’m gonna —“

You only need to swallow around him once before Sanemi is filling your throat with his cum. With a deep groan, his head drops back, his hand splayed across the back of your skull, keeping your nose pressed against his base as he rocks his hips, his cock twitching violently in your mouth.

His eyes fly open when he feels the wetness from your tears against the sensitive skin of his groin, and he’s quick to pull out of your mouth. Your hands bracing against his thighs as you gulp down air in heavy, shuddering gasps.

“Fuck — I’m sorry,” his hands smooth worryingly over your hair. “That was too rough, I’m so fuckin’ sorry-“

Your head snaps up, and Sanemi feels a brief moment of panic at the sight of your mascara, streaked down your cheeks from an onslaught of tears. Bht then you’re smiling at him, a big, triumphant, radiant smile, and Sanemi feels almost as dumb in the head as he had when your mouth was around his cock.

The elevator slows and Sanemi hastily tucks himself back into his pants. The moment his belt is refastened, his hand is on your arm, gently guiding you up to stand right as a ding! sounds, and the doors slide open to reveal the 26th floor.

You step out first, turning back to him expectantly. “Well? What room?”

Sanemi’s heart falls to his ass as he beholds the assured confidence blazing in your eyes. “2602,” he manages to croak.

You tug him out of the elevator and for a few moments, he’s dumbstruck by his good fortune. It almost feels like a dream, that your here, leading him down the winding hallway of this oversized and overpriced hotel, eager to get back to his room and do whatever the hell it is that’s lit that fire in your eyes.

Sanemi’s awe is short-lived, replaced by a crashing wave of need and boiling desire, hot and furiously bubbling under his skin. His hand tightens around yours and he jerks you around, spinning you until you’re caged tightly between the hallway wall and his chest.

His mouth attacks your neck, biting and sucking his claim into your skin, no matter how temporary. Your leg hikes up to hook around his hips, your foot pressed against his calf, and it seems neither of you care that you’re very much still on an open hallway as opposed to the privacy of his hotel room.

“I’m not holding back with you,” he whispers against the hollow of your throat. His hands slide hotly down your sides, fingers toying under the absurdly short hem of your dress, kneading just beneath the curve of your ass. “You asked me what I wanted — I want this. You.”

Your sultry giggle in his ear chokes off as Sanemi’s finger dips under your ass from behind to run firmly over your clothed slit. A breathy fuck falls from his lips as he feels the wetness seeping through the fabric of your underwear.

“That’s your main gift,” you’re tugging on his hair again until you’ve pulled him away from your throat so that you can slant your mouth over his. “Me. However you want me.”

You take his bottom lip between your teeth and suck, and Sanemi swears he’s died and gone to heaven. “As many times as you want.”

“And in whatever positions you want.”

Sanemi has never been a particularly religious man, but he thinks he’s about one nanosecond from dropping to his knees in worship of you.

Sanemi wastes no time in hauling you over his shoulder, throwing any and all cares to the wind of being seen as he slaps your ass and books the remaining trek back to his hotel room. Youre lucky his room is only around the corner, given that you won’t stop groping his ass.

Somehow, Sanemi manages to fumble for his keycard and swipes it, and he has you inside his room and pushed up against the door before it even fully latches shut.

You’re moaning and panting just from his hands, and Sanemi can feel himself already growing hard once more. His lips are feverish as they roam from your lips, to your neck, and down to the hem of your dress concealing your soft breasts from sight. His hands are even greedier, bunching the tissue-paper-like fabric of you dress between his fingers as he explores the curves and dips of your body.

“God you feel so fucking good,” he mutters against your lips between kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.”

From the way your hands drag down his chest, fingers sliding between the undone buttons of his shirt to explore his chest, he knows you’re just as starved as he is.

With a slight whine, you push him back, breaking your kiss. Sanemi looks at you, but the question building on his tongue does as you kick your heels off, your fingers flying to the straps of your dress.

Sanemi feels locked in place by the heat of your gaze, and he swears he can feel his pulse tick in his neck. One by one, you push the straps of your dress from your shoulders, letting the satiny material fall down your waist and puddle around your feet.

If Sanemi thought he was losing his mind before, he knows for certain that he likely needs to be committed now.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sanemi’s stare is unabashed and gaping. For beneath that flimsy scrap of shiny fabric pretending to be a dress was not your bare skin, but dark green lace and mesh and corset paneling.

A teddy.

You twist slightly so you’re looking over your shoulder, fully exposing your ass and the thong-like back of your one-piece to the slack-jawed birthday boy.

“I figured you would like this one.”

Your words knock Sanemi right off his axis, his head spinning so fast, it’s a miracle it’s still attached to his shoulders.

You’d worn fucking lingerie for his party.

For him.

You’d gone out of your way to wear something you thought he would like on the mere chance you’d end up as you were now, here in his room. You’d planned for it.

You didn’t leave him any other choice; he was going to fucking ruin you.

His hand flies behind his neck to grip his shirt, ripping it over his head and throwing it unceremoniously to the side.

Sanemi doesn’t fail to notice the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your pupils blowing wide at the sight of the sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen.

He kicks off his shoes and his hands shove his pants quickly down his legs, grateful that he hadn’t bothered to refasten his belt or button after the stunt you pulled in the elevator.

“C’mere,” he orders, roughly. Left in just his black briefs, he lunges forward to take you into his arms once more.

Your peal of laughter as Sanemi throws you onto his king-sized hotel bed is the prettiest thing he’s ever heard. He wastes no time pouncing on you, eager to reconnect your lips, to kiss you until you’re left as breathless and wanting as he is.

Between messy kisses, Sanemi’s hands make their way down your body, squeezing and marveling at the way your body seems made for his touch. And as if the feeling of your skin beneath his palms isn’t enough to drive him wild, you’re so responsive to his touch. Every stroke of his hands seems to bring you alive until you’re practically thrumming with want and begging him for more.

His fingers slide over your lace-covered cunt and he swears at the dampness he feels clean through the fabric of your teddy.

“Eager, are we?” He hums, his lips following down the path he traced with his hands. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

Your hips buck impatiently against him as his face settles between your thighs. He grins at your desperation, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your inner thigh until he reaches your covered slit.

He lets his tongue peek out between his lips and drags it over until he reaches your other thigh, groaning at the faint taste of you dampening the lace.

Sanemi’s fingers push under the edge of the teddy, a breath blowing past his lips when he connects with your dripping cunt.

“Look how fucking soaked you are,” he says in awe, marveling the way your slick coats his fingers. “Is this all for me?”

You groan, pushing your hips down to grind harder against his hand.

“Just fuck me already,” you huff. “I’m ready now.”

Sanemi tsks softly at you. “You need to ask a lot nicer than that, sweet girl.”

Your impatient demands taper off into soft moans as Sanemi sinks a single finger into your entrance, his cock growing impossibly hard at the feeling of you clenching easily around him.

Sanemi practically trembles at the thought of sinking into your heat, of how you might feel clenching and pulsing around his length while he fucks you the way he’s been dreaming since he met you.

But while he might be pent up, Sanemi isn’t so much of an asshole that he wouldn’t make sure you were good and ready to take him.

So he simply tugs the crotch of your teddy aside and without any further teasing or torture, he latches his mouth to your cunt with a deep moan.

As his tongue darts between your folds, Sanemi realizes that all the cake in the world couldn’t compare to how fucking sweet your pussy tastes.

You cry out, his name stuttering out between a staccato of moans and cooes for more. Your hands twist in his hair, alternating between pulling his face closer to your core and pushing him away, the pleasure almost too much for you to bear.

Sanemi thinks he could get drunk on your taste. His eyes open to watch the way your face pinches, how your jaw goes slack to let his name drip from your tongue.

Your hands unwind from his hair to tug at the sinful draping of lace fitted against your body like a glove. “Off,” you whimper. “Off.”

It takes him a moment to realize what you want. But after another plea of “off,” Sanemi’s hands are already working to push the teddy down your lithe form.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” he soothes, dragging the lingerie off your legs. Sanemi swears softly at the sight of you, bare and spread out on his mattress, your body pliant and ready for him to use however he chooses.

“S-Sanemi,” he can’t suppress his grin at the apparent whine in your tone. “I feel so — so empty —“

He doesn’t try to hold in the groan resounding deep from his chest. Youre asking — practically begging — for his cock, and Sanemi doesn’t have the willpower to deny you.

“Fuck this,” he snarls, and suddenly your body is caged under his, his hips slotting perfectly into the cradle of your thighs. “I need to be in you.”

His lips dance feverishly up the side of your neck until they reconnect with yours.

For a moment, your kiss slows to something more sensual and passionate, as opposed to the heated and frantic kisses you’d exchanged earlier. The sigh you exhale against his mouth is the sexiest thing Sanemi has ever heard, and the feeling of your fingers latching in his hair is a sensation he never wants to forget.

Your tongue swipes along his lower lip in a silent request for entry that he’s only too happy to grant. You moan against the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Sanemi knows he’s been head over heels for you for a long time, but the way your tongue dances languidly with his has him utterly undone.

If you wanted to, he’d let you swallow him whole.

Your kiss melts into something more needy and frantic, and Sanemi feels your wetness grind down against his thigh, a pleading whimper building on your lips. With an eagerness that makes his head spin, your legs shift to lock around his waist, and one of the hands you’d had latched in his hair drifts down his abdomen until it finds his cock, heavy and hot in your palm.

“I’ve got a condom —“ Sanemi manages between desperate kisses. “In my wallet —“

But your legs tighten around his hips and your hand pumps harder at his stiffened length. “Don’t need it,” you murmur against his lips. “On the pill.”

Sanemi thinks he might pass out. “Fuck — are you sure?”

You nod, eyes bright and alert even in spite of your sleepy, fucked-out smile. “Wanna feel you, baby.”

Don’t have to fucking tell him twice. Especially not when you’re calling him baby, even if it’s a pet name you’ll only use on him for the night.

With deft hands, Sanemi flips you so that your front is pressed against the mattress. You scramble beneath him to plant your knees, raising your ass high in the air, your cunt held out in an offering he could never refuse.

He gives one of your pert ass cheeks an appreciative smack before he shuffles forward on his knees. He rests one foot on the outside of your leg, parallel with your hip, and slots his other knee between your parted thighs. One hand grips the base of his cock while the other kneads at your hip, holding you steady while also keeping your limbs relaxed as he lines his tip up with your dripping entrance.

“Unless you say otherwise, ‘M goin’ hard,” he warns, his voice rougher than gravel. “Been waiting too long to do this.”

Ever the devilish little minx, you wiggle your hips back against him, and his breath chokes in his throat when your wet heat catches him at his tip.

You look back over your shoulder and Sanemi’s gaze darkens at the challenge in your eyes. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

Sanemi decides to respond to your taunt not with his words, but with his body. In a single, fluid movement, he plunges his cock deep into your heated core, his fingers tightening around your hips with bruising force.

“Jesus fuck,” he pants once he’s fully embedded to the hilt inside your warmth.

It’s unreal; the feeling of your silken, pleasure-soaked walls moulding around his cock like you were made to take him sends a bolt lightning surging down his spine, making him shudder.

A cross between a cry and a scream tears from your throat, muffled only by the press of your mouth against the starchy blankets of his hotel bed. He’s about to ask if you’re okay, if you want him to go slow for a bit since he knows he’s a larger than average. but then you’re throwing your hips back against him, circling and grinding and mewling for more.

“Fuck me,” you moan. “Fuck me, Sanemi — please.”

“God fucking damn,” Sanemi hisses through clenched teeth. And he knows he can’t deny you, not when your whining so prettily for him; nor when your pussy feels this fucking good.

He draws back, his cock sliding out of you until only his tip remains. He lingers there, for just a hair’s breadth of a moment, teasing.

Your impatient whine doesn’t last long as Sanemi slams you back onto him, the sound choking off in your throat. He doesn’t give you time to recover; he digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips and drives his cock into you again and again, pounding a relentless rhythm into you that has you sobbing into the mattress.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You blubber, your fingers fisted into the blankets below for purchase as you push yourself back to meet his frenzied thrusts.

Sanemi can’t tear his eyes away from where his cock, shiny with your wetness, disappears in and out of you. “You’re taking me so fuckin’ well,” he says in awe. Your pussy is gripping him like a vice, practically sucking him back into your heat. “You like letting me use you, huh?”

Sanemi shifts so that his weight is on the knee resting beside your leg, allowing him to push harder and deeper into your cunt. You try to lift your head, but Sanemi’s hand leaves its place on your hip to press down on the back of your neck, squeezing lightly.

“Oh f-fuck,” you groaned, voice slightly muffled from where your face was half-pressed into the mattress. “Oh god — just like that — D-daddy, yes —“

Sanemi’s hips stutter. Daddy. No one has ever called him that in the bedroom before, but fuck if it doesn’t somehow make him harder than a fucking diamond.

Especially because it seems like it slipped out of you without much thought, your eyes too busy staring at the back of your skull as every punishing thrust of Sanemi’s cock into your pliant cunt makes your body bounce against the mattress.

He likes it. A lot.

“Should’ve known you’d have a daddy kink, filthy little thing,” he groans, his hand reaching under you to toy with your swollen clit.

You only moan in response, and Sanemi can’t help but to swirl his fingers around that nub, savoring the way it makes your thighs quiver beneath you.

The hand still pressing against the back of your neck slides up to grip your hair, and Sanemi pulls your head up from the bed. “Do you call everyone ‘daddy,’ sweetness, or just those who fuck you the way you like it?”

“Not everyone” you gasp, voice strained against the tight arch of your neck. “Just you — ah! Only you.”

With a growl, Sanemi’s arm locks around your middle and hauls you up until your back is flush against his chest. One hand wraps around your jaw, his fingers squeezing your cheeks to keep your head back as he continues pounding into you.

“Look at you,” his exhales hotly against your ear, his teeth grazing your lobe. “Daddy’s pretty little toy.”

Your thighs quake in their effort to keep you up. Your moans raise an octave, warbling out of your throat as you settle heavily against him, utterly helpless against the pleasure rolling through your body.

Sanemi’s hand drops from your jaw to drag teasingly down your torso. When he reaches your lower belly, he presses his palm flat, the pressure allowing the blunt head of his cock to rub against that sensitive spot that makes you sing his name.

“You feel that, baby?” And the whine that slips out of you is one he wishes he could bottle up. “That’s all me — that’s how deeply I’m fucking you.”

He’s practically holding you up, your limbs little more than jelly, but he doesn’t mind. He only increases the pressure of his hand, rubbing slightly over the softness of your stomach.

“And that’s where I’m gonna fill you up, ‘til you’re nice and full, hm?”

A stilted cry of his name is dragged from your lips, and Sanemi swears he’d marry you tomorrow, if you’d let him.

It’s not lost on him that this is likely a one-time thing; that you’ll likely leave his hotel room and the two of you won’t speak of it again, but he can’t find it within himself to give a shit.

It doesn’t matter if this is just a slightly drunken hook up — it doesn’t matter to him if it’s just sex. You’re letting him use your body for his pleasure, and that thought is enough to make his brain turn to liquid between his ears.

Sanemi falls back against the bed, bringing you with him, your back still pressed against his chest. He winds an arm around one of your thighs, holding it open to allow himself to continue fucking up into you with the speed of a racehorse.

“God you’re so fuckin’ tight — don’t want me to leave, do you, precious?”

He chuckles in your ear, catching your lobe between his teeth. His hand wedges between your thighs to play with your clit again, and the way your pussy flutters around him signals that you’re right on the precipice of your orgasm.

The first of the night, if he had anything to say about it.

“Maybe I should make you my own personal cocksleeve — would you like that, sweetheart?” You’re mewling, nodding frantically as you squirm and thrash atop him.

“Would you like to sit on Daddy’s cock all day, keep him nice and warm?”

“Yes!” You sob, and Sanemi’s fingers circle your clit even harder, determined to to make you cum. “Yes, ‘Nemi, please! I’ll be your good girl — I’ll be so good —“

Sanemi’s pace falters slightly at your words, a new idea — a wicked idea, forming fast in his mind. “You will, huh?”

He abruptly pulls out of you, though the anguished cry that rattles out of you at the loss of his warmth tugs at his heartstrings. After all, you’d been so close.

Sanemi wastes no time flipping you under him, hooking both your legs over his muscled shoulders until the underside of your thighs press flat against his chest.

“You’ll cum when I say so,” he shoves his painfully hard cock back into your pulsing warmth, his knuckles turning white under his grip against the rumpled blankets as he fights to keep his eyes from rolling back at the feeling of being sheathed back inside you once more.

“And you’re gonna fuckin’ look at me when i fill you up,” Sanemi snarls between ferocious snaps of his hips. “I wanna see that gorgeous face when I cum inside this pretty little pussy.”

“Yes! Yes s-sir.”

“Yeah? And who’s fucking you this good?”

“Y-you,”

He ducks his head down to nip sharply at your breast. “Try again.”

“You are — D-daddy,”

Sanemi’s pace only increases. “Still not what I’m looking for, princess,” he’s borderline cruel and he knows it, but he also knows what he wants. “Tell me whose pussy this is.”

You don’t answer; you can’t, given how slack your jaw has gone, your mouth frozen in a perfect “o” as Sanemi pushes the head of his cock right at that spot deep within you that makes you seize down on him hard enough that he sees stars.

He growls your name and when you still don’t respond, he snaps his hips particularly hard against yours.

“Say it.”

His hand shoves between your bodies, and Sanemi pinches your clit harshly between this thumb and index finger.

“Sanemi!” You wail, writhing under him. His fingers rub soothing circles against your clit, though the relentless thrust of his cock does not ease.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, and the pressure of his fingers against your throbbing nub increases. “Now cum on this fucking cock.”

That does it.

Your back arcs sharply up off the mattress, thighs tightening around his hips as your cunt clenching around him with earth-shattering force. Sanemi feels a smug wave of pride as a surge of fluid springs forth and coats his abdomen and groin.

You fall back against the bed, limp and spent, but Sanemi isn’t done with you yet; you won’t be, not until Sanemi has left his mark.

He shifts over you, his full weight pressing you down into the mattress; his hands pushing your knees up until they’re level with your chest. You sigh and hum, still wading through the haze of your orgasm, but given the way you let your thighs spread a little wider, you’re aware enough to know that Sanemi is readying you to take his release.

It’s not enough; Sanemi doesn’t want you lost in the aftermath of your euphoria — he wants you crying out for his.

His hand grips your face, your cheeks squishing together beneath his fingers as he forces your head to tilt toward him. Your eyes flutter open, bleary and unfocused before the clouds part and your attention is locked wholly on him.

“Beg for it,” he grits out, his hand smacking against your clit until you howled. “Beg for my cum.”

“Please!” Your cry is shrill and desperate, your hands tightening weakly around his shoulders. “Please f-fill me up — oh, Sanemi —“

He nearly loses it at the way you say his name, like it’s some damn prayer and he, your salvation, but he holds back. It’s not enough — he wants you as filthy and wanton as him.

“Use your words,” his words leave him in a single, inexorable command.

Your lower lip wobbles. “Your cum — please, please fill this pussy up. Fill me up, fuck it into me —“

Sanemi cuts off your babbling with a single, bruising kiss. He feels his balls tighten, and the prickle at the base of his spine grows hotter, signaling just how close he is to nirvana.

His hand finds one of yours where it clings to his shoulder, a fruitful attempt to anchor yourself, and he pulls it away. Sanemi presses your hand back against the mattress, interlacing his fingers with yours.

Your pussy flutters around him in time with your thumb stroking over his knuckle, and that’s all it takes.

“Oh fuck —“ Sanemi grunts before he feels himself explode. With a strangled yell, Sanemi’s hips slam into yours, pushing his cock as deep as it can possibly go, and his release crashes into him with mind-blowing force.

it’s the hardest and the most he’s ever come in his entire life. Nothing else has ever or will ever compare to this.

But even as his release spurts heavily inside your honeyed core, Sanemi doesn’t relent in his pace. His hips keep rolling steadily into you, prolonging his release to the point his toes curl, and he wonders whether his nose might start bleeding.

The corners of your mouth tilt up, a pleased groan vibrating loud and wanton in your throat as you feel him fuck his hot seed right into the Eden of your body.

Despite the mind-numbing pleasure of his orgasm, Sanemi won’t let himself look away. The face you make as he fills you up is the prettiest damn thing he’s ever seen.

Sanemi stays buried in your heat for several more moments as he comes down from his high, his head dropping into the crook of your shoulder. With a grunt, he pulls out, dropping down next to you in a flurry of messy blankets and pillows.

You push yourself to your side, a hand coming to push the sweat-dampened ends of his bangs from his eyes. “Good birthday?” You tease, your cheeks flushed bright red, your eyes bright.

“The best,” Sanemi agrees, his eyes scanning your face, committing every detail of you and your post-sex glow to memory.

The two of you lay next to one another for a little while, talking and quietly laughing. Neither one of you seems eager to leave the bed, and Sanemi in particular finds himself hoping today never ends.

Eventually, nature calls and he excuses himself — reluctantly — to the bathroom. When he emerges, he’s greeted with the sight of your ass, bare and exposed as you nestle into the bed, one leg kicking lazily up into the air behind you.

Fuck, you’re too beautiful, and he is far too weak.

He approaches the side of the bed, stretching out one hand to drag teasingly down your spine, until he reaches your ass, knuckles kneading the soft flesh.

His eyes flit to the small clock perched on the hotel nightstand. Sanemi’s grin turns lupine as he reads time reflected by the green-tinted digits.

Sanemi’s fingers skirt down to your ankle, gripping it firmly in his hand. He tugs you over the side of the bed until your head dangles off the edge, your hair stretching towards the ground. “Looks like it’s still my birthday, darling. I ain’t finished enjoying my present yet,” he grips the base of his half-hard cock and taps it against your lips. “And I’ve been dying to cum all over this pretty face of yours.”

—-

True to his word, Sanemi takes him time ravishing his birthday gift. When the clock on the nightstand finally reads 12:01 AM, he flops down next to you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath.

You lay beside him, panting in tandem with him from the exertion of the night’s activities. There isn’t an inch of you that isn’t sticky as a result of the heady mixture of your sweat and Sanemi’s cum.

You feel his eyes searing into you as you trail a finger through the milky white splattered across your chest — a favorite place of his to cum, as you’d learned, second only to spilling inside of you.

Sanemi hardly holds back a whimper at the way you bring it to your lips, letting your tongue lick your finger clean of his pleasure.

“You’re trying to drive me wild, woman,” he throws a tired arm over his face, shrouding his eyes. “You torture all your hookups like this?”

He’s surprised at how quickly you sit up in bed, your eyes flashing.

“Hookup?”

Sanemi props a fist under his cheek. “Well, yeah,” he winces slightly, searching for more careful words. “I don’t expect anything from you. I appreciate the birthday surprise, though.”

Your gaze is leveled, and your voice even. “I don’t buy lingerie for one-night stands, Sanemi. That shit is an investment.”

His eyes blow wide, and he feels the erratic thrum of his heart stuttering in his throat.

“I want you,” you say firmly. “And I had every intention when I followed you in here tonight for this —“ your hand waves back and forth between your chests. “— to continue.”

It’s a miracle Sanemi is able to speak at all. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”

You grin. “Well, now that you’ve fucked me, I guess you should take me on a date.” You pause, trailing one delicate finger down his chest. “But I won’t make you wait until we’ve been on three before I let you fuck me again.”

Your hand dips below the edge of the blanket and glides teasingly over his cock, already beginning to stir once more. “You’re far too delicious.”

Sanemi snatches your hand and rolls you under him before you can blink, your answering giggle the sweetest music ever to grace his ears.

“Y’know, in other parts of the world, it’s still the 29th,” he murmurs huskily, grazing his lips against yours. “So by that logic…”

You nod, eyebrows drawn together in seriousness. “We’re obligated to keep celebrating.”

Sanemi’s lips are already trailing down your body, savoring the taste of himself on your skin. He settles back between your legs, marveling at the way your thighs fall to the side so easily to accommodate his mass.

He presses a sweet kiss against your clit. “You’re just the gift that keeps on giving, aren’t you, darlin’?”

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