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simpingland · 2 months

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Heyy beauty!

Can i request a Harwin break my back Strong x wife Targaryen reader fic where he beats the shit out of someone who disrespects her. He gets out of it with no consequences, reader looks after him & it ends in smut💋

(I'd appreciate it if u could do more Harwin fics cause lord knows I'm thirsty for it😭)

How to fix an aching nose.// Ser Harwin Strong x Targ!Wife!Reader. Smut.

Summary: Harwin cant believe his luck, married to a targaryan princess, being completely in love with her, her being madly in love with him...Not many believe his luck neither. Only his wife can prove him that its all real.

Warnings: p in v, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), a Lannister being punch.

Harwin was more than anxious to have you, his dearest wife, alone for more than the few moments you were allowed, to what extent could he reminisce about your wedding night? His mind was elsewhere during the hunt, listening only to his father's instructions, and ignoring the lords. Ever since he married you, he had felt the looks they gave him, full of envy of course. Few dared little more than stare, the stupidest could dare to vocalise it. And Lord Tyland Lannister was one of those fools.

"I see you are distracted, Ser Harwin," said the Lord with a mocking laugh as he watched the stag slip away from him at close range. "Marriage...always has the same effect on men."

He chuckled, a few laughed with him, but most gave him a dirty look, and Harwin set his spear aside.

"What effect do you mean, Ser Tyland?" he asked dryly.

"Well, the effect of women. They are a constant headache."

"I don't think you should speak so of wives when you haven't managed to marry a single woman since you've been at court, my lord." He wanted to leave it at that, but Tyland had taken offense.

"When one wields so much fortune, choosing a wife to entrust to him is a different task. I suppose you don't know what I'm talking about now, Ser Harwin."

Harwin walked toward him, towering over him. It clearly frightened him.

"I don't need to brag about money to show my wealth. And that I think if you are able to understand."

Tyland was silent for a second. Everyone had turned to watch the scene, except your father, the King, who was too sore to pay attention. None of them listened as your father asked for your presence to escort him to his tent without making a fuss. So Harwin turned to continue the hunt without being aware that his own wife was walking towards the scene. Neither was Lord Lannister.

"You certainly took a treasure for the little price you must have paid...you took a very possible wife from me." Tyland was whispering it to Harwin now, purposely irritating him. "Though...perhaps you did me a favor. A princess who chooses someone like you should not be driven by anything but lust and madness. Maybe your wife is a lot cheaper than we all thought."

Then Harwin exploded. With the first fist he knocked out two of Tyland's molars, and with the second he buried him in the mud. None of Ser Lyonel's orders were heard as he tore Tyland apart, only the insults towards you, raging. They tried to pull him away, but he was still there. And there you found him.

"HARWIN!" You shouted, running towards him. It took him a while to notice you, he looked at you, a little frightened that you had seen him be so savage.

"He insulted you" he said quietly, then looked at Tyland "YOU INSULTED THE PRINCESS!"

And he gave him one last kick before he was pushed away by the guards. He had to be pushed away until he was led out of the hunt, and he only looked at you, begging your forgiveness for the disturbance. Your father was disoriented, and only understood what was happening from the words of one of the guards. And you had to wait to get your father to his bed before you met Harwin.

"What happened?" you asked as you entered your tent. Harwin was waiting for you, on his back and standing. When he turned around you saw his nose was bleeding. You ran to wipe it. "Gods! Did Tyland do that to you?"

"He wishes it was him, my love...it was one of the guards."

"I suppose it's because you've hit him first, isn't it?"

He smiled, because he knew you as well as you knew him. And he watched your concern disappear with every second, seeing your smile again.

"I'm not going to let anyone walk all over me. Not me, not you," he said, kissing your neck as he hugged you, lifting you off the ground and pressing you against his chest.

"Oh, Harwin, and why do you say that?"

You wiped the blood from him as he told you the story. It was starting to bruise a little, but had stopped bleeding after he put a cold cloth on it, holding it patiently and letting it play with the ties of your dress.

"I don't want you to think I'm just a... a beast too. I hold my anger a lot more than you think. Only you make me feel at peace, wife." He ran his hand through your hair.

It certainly hadn't been easy to convince your father. The Strongs were beloved at court, but Harrenhal was not a place of good repute, and marrying the King's second daughter to a notorious brute like Harwin "Breakbones" Strong had caused much controversy. You succeeded after years of hiding in the corridors, and every night Harwin could only draw on his imagination to do more than kiss you, for he had always put your reputation and honour before his desires.

You had only been married a short time, but it had been a season since you two had spent time alone. Your elder sister Rhaenyra was keeping you by her side at night, uncomfortable with her first pregnancy, and in the mornings, Harwin was too busy catching up on his duties as heir to Harrenhal.

Still, it didn't take away a single ounce of excitement, you craved each other throughout the day, and Harwin always managed to pull you aside to talk or kiss you. Either was enough for him, but he really wanted you back in his bed.

"You don't look like a beast to me." You put your hands on his neck, sat on his lap, you could feel his bulge on your leg. "And even if you had looked like one, you forget I've never been the person who holds his reputation in the highest regard, remember?"

They smiled, Harwin remembered in fact, more than once he had had to push you out of his sight because you had guided his hand where maidens should not be touched, all before you were married. You kissed him first, and when he was training you watched him from your window, catching his eye and "accidentally" showing your breasts. In the dark of night he had to pick you up off the floor because you had knelt before him. And in between all those moments Harwin couldn't help but be captivated by you, begging the King for your hand.

"I remember everything. You are far more beastly than I, my wife..." His member began to grow as he remembered, your scent right there, he captured your lips.

"You have offended me," you faltered, pulling away from the kiss. "Show me who the beast is here, Ser Breakbones."

One swift movement and he unfastened the bodice of your dress, freeing your breasts, and brought one to his lips. And as it sank to your chest you giggled at his eagerness, enjoying the tingle that formed on your legs as you felt Harwin's saliva run over your tits.

"Do you find this amusing, my princess? Having me sit here?" He ran his hands under your skirt, stroking your pearl as if by accident, but you knew he wasn't, that he was doing it to ravish you.

"I do find it a bit funny, I'm afraid..."

He stilled your laughter by throwing you onto the bed they had set up for you. Remarkably smaller than the one in your room back in the Keep, but Harwin didn't plan to use it much. He removed what was left of your dress, leaving you now completely naked. Your body being a spectacle for him.

"Well I'm no clown, of the many tricks they know how to do, I doubt very much they know how to do this."

He rested one hand on the bed, circling you on top of you, and the other he used to turn you, your back, your ass facing the outside. He caressed your back, stroke both cheeck of your ass and finally touching your cunt. One finger entered first, stirring your discharge with your clitoris and eliciting a soft moan from you. He watched you watching him, mouth half open. He was so handsome, with his smooth coat but rugged features, Harwin was all man. He inserted a second finger, and the third was not long in coming. Then he began to shake his hand rapidly, lifting your entire pelvis to his rhythm. You couldn't help but cry out as you felt such continuous pleasure.

"No..." whispered Harwin, pulling his face closer to yours, "no one knows how to do this to you like I do..."

Pleasure engulfed you, and Harwin could see you come to orgasm, you moaned millimetres from his lips, which he felt as if it was feeding him. He let you rest, and before he could lick his fingers with your arousal, you took his hand to lick them for him. If he was already excited before, Harwin had to hold back a moan when he felt the friction of his own pants squeezing his erection.

"Now let me reward you, my Lord, for defending my honour..." you removed his shirt, and kissed his big abs. But you made him suffer as you reached for his trousers, unbuttoning them bit by bit, not until you had removed them completely did you focus on his member.

Fat and in proportion to your husband, his cock needed two hands to massage it well. First you gave him a little kiss on the tip, as if in greeting, and looked up at Harwin, who seemed impatient but loved your gaze as you knelt before him. You were beautiful from every angle, and your eyes sharpened from that perspective. He pushed your silver hair aside as an excuse to touch it, and he never pushed your head, you always managed to make him enjoy at your own pace. You licked the tip for a while, but before he could cum, you took as much of his cock into your mouth as you could, knowing which way to guide it so you wouldn't gag. You sucked slowly but intensely, using your cheeks to make your mouth tighter. You were just about to make him cum when Harwin decided to take the reins again.

He caught you by surprise when he pulled away from you to pick you up off the floor, placing you in his arms as he did when he rescued you from troubles you usually got yourself into. One arm around your back and the other around your legs, your hands resting on his shoulders and with the opportunity to kiss him right there. Indeed, you didn't need the bed very much. You didn't quite understand what Harwin was up to, but when you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, your hair stood on end. He was moving slowly up and down you, preparing to bury himself all the way in.

"I am convinced that there is no better pussy than yours in all of Westeros, Princess..." his voice was husky, his scent captivated you, and he kissed you tenderly when he wasn't kissing you with tongue.

"So what are you waiting for to enjoy it?"

He lured you to his lips to distract you, but you finally felt him enter. Gently, but creating that special fraction you'd longed for for years before you were married. Harwin broke the kiss to moan, of course this was his favourite part of fucking. He didn't usually do it fast, he liked to pace himself, and for such a big, rough man, he liked to sink into your pussy delicately, whether it was his instinct to protect you, or his instinct to enjoy it. His hips set the pace, as he raised them, his arms lowered, and you felt his full length fill you. He began to speed up the rhythm, he had plenty of strength left, and when he increased you could hear him enjoying himself, making you enjoy yourself.

"I'm going to cum...I'm going to cum..." he announced.

Then he laid you back down on the bed. You had no plans to have children yet, so you liked to experiment a little. Harwin positioned your legs apart, and took out his cock to rub it against your clit, fucking your vaginal lips and causing you unparalleled pleasure. You had your second orgasm seconds before you felt Harwin's semen spilling out of your pelvis, with a sweet moan leaving your husbands lips.

He rested his forehead on yours, and you kissed his aching nose.

"Wow...you sure made me feel better, wife." He moved to your side, pulling a blanket over you both, cuddeling you in his arms.

"Yeah...I've missed you too."

"I meant the kiss on the nose...but the rest was good too."

You laughed before threatening to make it bleed again. Harwin was willing to take a million punches as long as his princess was there to kiss his wounds afterwards.

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darlingdekarios · 4 months

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abandon all hope.

RATING: explicit. 18+ only. — LENGTH: 9,131— Raphael x f![warlock]tav [reader]

CONTENT: being a patron is being a sugar daddy/mommy you can't change my mind, set during Act II canon, small amounts of alcohol consumption, toxic behavior/ expressions of possession/ownership, "fluff", SMUT [unprotected p in v], KINK(S) [praise kink, orgasm control, hair pulling, biting, scratching/clawing, blood, breath play, dacryphilia, just a little degredation, size], there's a lot of poetry in here I did my best, Haarlep cameo, the least Raphael could've done for killing an Orthon for him is fuck us ffs, have fun thinking Raphael is bad at sex I'm built different, this got out so out of hand

you had become his absolute favorite - his most precious client and prized treasure. it's become increasingly difficult not to admit that you're truly his forever...and he's ready to hear it.

"In a world of horrors where shadows loom, A tiny creature navigates through certain doom. A little mouse, determination in its eye, Hoping this will not be its last heard lullaby."

It would be a lie to say that very voice didn't send the most delightful of shivers down your spine each time it announced his presence to you - you hung on each syllable like he was speaking a new language you were desperate to understand. Though your back was turned to him as the corners of your lips twitched upward you could feel in your soul - the one that no longer belonged to you - that he knew.

Though you may have been doing your best to feign disinterest and even often annoyance at his dramatics, it was no secret that you found him amusing. Fortunately, he happened to feel rather the same, a creeping mirth building in his chest at this familiar performance you were putting on.

"Just when I was beginning to miss your theatrics."

It was only then he realized just how badly he'd yearned to hear your voice again in the time since it had last swam into his ears. Curiously - but perhaps not at all - he felt his mouth go temporarily dry as his next rehearsed verse fell from his mind momentarily. When his silence lingered you filled it gracefully as you knelt before a bucket of water, scrubbing your arms free of the blood that covered them as you worked off the most uncomfortable parts of your armor.

His stumble did not last forever - his practiced words would not go to waste.

"With the battle fought and her patron's foe slain, She has etched upon her weary soul so very much strain. With a gentleness most sincere, the Patron offers her rest. Her wearied body, soon at peace even in her mind, No longer bound by battles' fierce behest, Their worries, for a moment, left entirely behind.

For the strongest heroes, too, do need a moment's grace, To find their strength renewed in the tenderest embrace."

Though his continued lack of transparency was frustrating, particularly after the stretch of days you'd had at his bidding, you noticed the practice lilt in his words, the methodic delivery of his latest poem.

"Have you been practicing poetry for me again, my Lord?" your tone was filled to the brim with the very amusement you felt, amusement that was growing by the moment at the slight waver in his voice, the subtlest indication that now was one of few times his trademark control had faltered. "I must tell you, it really is quite sweet. I've never inspired such before."

Your pleasantries and a title you so rarely chose for him stirred a feeling oh-so rare and delicious in him, a tingle up his spine that spread a wicked grin across his face. Exhausted, and uncaring of the company at the moment you continued your work on seeking your own comfort, continuing to peel armor away from your figure and toss it to the side.

Maybe you knew the lack of attention would agonize him - maybe that was only just more amusement for you. Annoyingly, he was attempting to bury the desires as he always did around you, finding now that the feelings stirring were beginning to gnaw their way out from the inside.

"You flatter me with honorifics yet ignore my presence."

His words had the slightest bit of edge to them and yet the tone in which they were delivered could be described as little more than a purr. It was a tone you'd discovered was reserved to fall on your ears alone - he never spoke to you this way in company, though you didn't doubt others existed that were fortunate enough to hear it. It was delicious - made more-so by the sharpness to them, the gentle bite that warned his limits were being tested.

The fact you only heard it when you were alone meant you seldom travelled with companions for too long, discarding them when your interests were no longer the central focus. It was lonely, but few wanted to be at your side when they discovered the source of your power, and the moments like this reaffirmed your decision each and every time.

"In a land of shadows shrouded with a curse most horrific, Lies a weary hero, hoping her devil might be more specific. For if she doesn't soon rest, Her weary body will be for the shadows to ingest."

There was no denying the radiance and allure in his laughter - it rang out so beautifully it didn't fit in a place like this, it almost wasn't fair for such a joyous sound to ring out in such a cursed land. Now, you couldn't help yourself - you turned to face him with a light smile pulling at your lips, exhaustion written on your face accentuated by the blood of those you'd slain in his name.

It pulled at his heart, something that seldom occurred - you were truly always a sight like this, in his eyes at least.

"Your skills increase tenfold each time we meet," he complimented, the smile settling on his face matched by the pull of the wrinkles beside his eyes. "You were successful in your latest task."

It was a statement - not a question, the wordless affirmation of his continued faith in your abilities. Still, you could've given him a snarky response - the blood covering your body and armor wasn't enough of a clue for him? In truth, though, you'd began to enjoy the moments where he complimented you - even more the rare moment he actually thanked you.

"As always," your coy tone was the final act to try to hide the giddiness you felt now, as well as the fatigue that was slowly overtaking your body. When was the last time you had eaten? When he left would you simply remove the rest of your armor and do your best to build a fire and lay beside it, or would you simply make do with the cold ground beneath you now?

He could sense it; he knew exactly what was on your mind. In truth, your thoughts were mirrored in his - this was no place for someone of your caliber to rest, especially not when you'd been so very good for him already. He'd heard about your camp, of course, but seeing it for himself - well, it really was quite awful.

A snap of his fingers and once again you were in the House of Hope, the unmistakeable extravagant decor a much better sight than the lands you'd been traveling. Though it was a bathroom where you appeared it was already enough to almost bring tears to your eyes - it smelled delightful, a bath was already drawn with bubbles and filling the room with the warmest steam. Unsurprising was the small table beside it filled with fruits, meats, cheeses and wine that made a fresh rumble sound in your stomach.

"It is so very fortunate your generous patron is willing to reward a valiant effort, would you not agree?"

You huffed a breath through your nose as a smile spread further across your fae, heat rising in cheeks as you returned your gaze to his. "And who said devils are selfish?"

His beautiful laughter filled your ears again, the warmth radiating from the fireplace and the bath nothing compared to that which engulfed you just hearing the sound so entirely for you. His movements were smooth as he made his way to the small table, pouring a glass of wine with ease while his eyes stayed on you the entire time.

"You have undertaken quite the ordeal on my behalf, you deserve a proper display of my abundant appreciation," there was the unmistakable purr of sultriness beneath his tone, his strides predatory as he made his way back to you, eyes running up and down your entire frame again before settling on your eyes. "And a bath, though I do so worship the vision of my dark hero covered in the blood of my enemies."

"You show your appreciation by providing me my power."

"And yet," the pause lingered heavily - if you weren't so keen on enjoying everything he had to offer you there would probably be a quip about holding for drama, but now you only looked up at him with wide doe eyes - eager and expectant and deliciously obedient. "I find myself curiously wanting to provide you with more."

The look that was blooming in his eyes was a peculiar one - one of a fondness. He slipped behind you gracefully, one of his hands reaching to grasp your hip and turn you to face an ornate mirror before his arm fully encircled your waist, drawing you back toward his chest. His hand slipped up your body, avoiding any part that would have been too inappropriate to touch without express permission, to grasp your chin, holding your face gently but firmly as he angled it to look in the ornate mirror before you.

"The longer you have my power reflected in your eyes, the more beautiful you become. Wouldn't you agree? You are radiant."

Now it was impossible to pass off the heat that had risen in you as nothing more than the heat from the bath - with his hand just beneath your chin on your neck and his claws digging ever-so-slightly into your skin, the heat had begin to pool at your core. You were still trying to remain focused, to maintain the aura of strength you almost never allowed to falter…particularly around him. But with him pressed to your back and his eyes devouring you in the mirror like a feral animal with a long-awaited meal, there were certain signs from your body that gave you away.

The elevated heart rate. The blown pupils. The pull of your bottom lip between your teeth.

It didn't take any amount of perception to see the signs that were so plainly there, particularly not for a devil who was eager to look for them.

"As you've pointed out, I'm covered in blood."

"A testament to our combined strength, my pet," you were certain with the intensity with which he was staring into your eyes' reflection in the mirror that he had stopped blinking, finding an unchanging face each time your eyes closed briefly. "Do you mind?"

He was offering you the wine glass to free up his hand or to distract yours - it was impossible to tell, really. Regardless of the intent you reached for it, taking a drink and relishing the familiar fire this particular wine ignited in your throat and belly.

Meanwhile his free hand was lightly trailing over the bow to the back laces of your clothing, giving a subtle tug to seek permission as his eyes continued to burn into yours in the mirror. With a nod the laces fell free under the quick work of his fingers - it was somewhat endearing that you knew he could do this with the snap of his fingers, yet he was choosing to do it himself, to peel you apart with his own hands. What you'd been wearing pooled to the ground and revealed the aftermath of your battle in full, all of the bruises and scratches and burns that had no place there…unless they were given by him or on his word.

His hands found your shoulders first and with a familiar warmth your injuries became another part of your past, his eyes trailing up and down your body to ensure all that remained was evidence of injuries not belonging to you.

"Positively resplendent," his breath was hot on your neck as he angled his face closer to yours, his nose brushing behind your ear softly. "A painting of this image would be so suitable for a portrait of us, wouldn't you agree?"

Bravery - it was a characteristic of yours that he cherished nearly more than any other, one that provided endless entertainment (and often worry, though he was hardly eager to admit that). It was the very trait that sometimes pushed you to do or say the very last thing he expected, and yet you still managed to take him by surprise. Even now in his domain was one of those times, your face unwavering and intention resolute as you spoke.

"Not in this form."

All he'd offer in his momentary shock was a raised eyebrow before these features faded and he transformed to the figure he was meant for, wings stretching behind his back as he got more comfortable. This is how he was meant to look - how the two of you were supposed to appear together, the devil and his toy hero, you and the source of your growing power. It would take blindness not to see the radiance with which you two joined together, and even then it was palpable in the air.

Ignoring the many feelings and tensions that crackled between the two of you when you were together was difficult - and growing more impossible by the day.

"This is suitable for the foyer."

He continued to lean down behind you, swallowing you with his true height so he could press a singular kiss behind your ear before straightening his back, his hand that was still flat against your now fluttering stomach pulling you against him tighter. Your skin burned where his lips had graced it - tingling as though his the action was magic. Your body only continued to respond to him with all of the tell-tale signs: a rising temperature, parted lips, blown pupils, quicker breath.

He so adored that you were trying to maintain control - to maintain an unbothered façade.

"You prefer me this way."

It left his mouth as a statement, but you caught the subtle insecurity at the tail of the sentence, the way his words slightly trailed and his eyes flashed with a truth - and hope? - that was so rarely seen.

Was he afraid of your answer?

"You don't need to wear a mask around me," you were quick to silence his doubt and eager to put out a particular fire that threatened everything around it boiling beneath his surface. Your sincerity and sensitivity was hardly what had initially drawn him to you - he loved that you'd always been willing to tell him your mind without a care to whom you were speaking, even himself included at times. "You would know that I preferred you this way if you spoke to me yourself more often instead of sending your little spy."

Suddenly you understood the meaning of the phrase "devilish grin" in a new light.

"Do I detect jealousy, my dear?" he purred as he leaned down toward you again, his breath tickling the back of your ear and neck and his claws dug into your hip slightly. You tried to ignore the flare of heat within you, unwilling to admit it fully quite yet. "A flicker of envy, so very subtle but clear."

You huffed and rolled your eyes in response to his taunt, annoyed he could think of a rhyme so quickly and a charming one at that, and even more annoyed that it worked. Bards.

"Korilla does not enjoy the same…benefits you do," he continued when you offered nothing in response but the puff of air, a reticent hum vibrating in your chest as you raised the cool glass to your lips to take another drink. Your eyes met his in the mirror again as you realized how long they'd been focusing on his hands, allowing your gaze to stay connected as you continued to drink.

Of course, he was hardly one to leave a silence unfilled for long.

"And what of my own feelings?" he questioned, the twitch in his jaw accentuating the frustration behind his words that he was trying to tame. "So many people you meet these days and you haven't shared with a single one where you get your power…"

It was hard to focus on a conversation like this when his claws were now grazing lower down your thigh, red lines painting your skin the evidence the Cambion's claws had been there. In the mirror you could see how he lovingly soaked in the sight of each new mark - of each new claim of his territory. You'd have far more decorations from him by the time you returned to your own camp.

"What am I supposed to think other than you're ashamed of me?"

"No," the rejection of his insinuation came from your lips faster than any reply you'd given before by far, a fact that ticked his lips into a slight smile. Though the two of you teased anda taunted one another often, you were always well aware of the line before you stepped over it. "They wouldn't understand."

"They don't have to understand…they have to respect. Besides, it's not their soul to be bothered with, and you're hardly the only warlock in your little party."

"But they won't. With the Blade of Frontiers it is different…he had no choice, not really. I did - I could've chosen anything else…anyone else. And I chose you."

"Then you will make them."

You could hear the commanding tone he rarely needed to take with you begin to form in his words, a low grumble rumbling against your chest as he spoke. At this point you knew what little remained of his patience was so close to slipping away completely - but you still couldn't stop yourself from testing those tempestuous waters just a bit more.

After all, he needed you alive just as much as you needed him. Harm too serious coming your way was out of the question, and the proof you could take a bit of pain was in the stories that would be told about you and your adventures for years to come.

"It's just another contract to you. What difference does it make?"

The final impertinent word left your lips as his hand grabbed your chin, applying pressure and encouraging you to face him. He loomed over you in this form - a delicious fact - his skin noticeably hotter against yours as he leaned closer, trapping you between his body and the wall. Flames danced in his eyes, the raging inferno matching the temporary flare of anger he felt ignited in his chest. His grip on your face was resolute, thumb and forefinger grasping so hard your cheeks were squished together.

That would certainly keep you from further insult.

"I am so very fond of you, my impudent little mouse. Can you not see that is so?"

You'd been in many dangerous - increasingly so - situations recently, but the fact this one was one of the most was…invigorating. Invigorating in the same way as when he'd first approached you with a deal, in the way he'd complimented a job well done for the first time, in the way he was overjoyed when you returned from your kidnapping. In truth - because you were not foolish enough to deny what was a plainly writ fact - you were well aware you belonged to him in every aspect of the word. It was fun to test what boundaries a relationship like that presented.

Your heart was thudding against your chest harder and faster by the moment as he continued to regard you, fully aware you couldn't respond to his question through the hold he maintained on your face.

"I will not hear more of your ill-mannered mouth while I am being such a gracious host. You are far from 'just another' anything to me…"

There was a sincerity in his words that shattered any possibility of refute.

"…and I will not tolerate our attachment being hidden any longer."

A threat, or a promise? Both were equally exhilarating in their own way. With the expression on his face - furrowed brows, pinched nose, set jaw, and nostrils flaring with each breath - his feelings toward the situation were written plain on his face. He was done arguing - and you'd be foolish to push it.

"Perhaps I could have a collar fashioned for you that only I can remove."

His hand that still held your waist pulled you closer, a muscular tail winding around your lower legs to hold you against him. One of his legs slotted between your thighs as you pressed to him closer, hands clinging to his upper arms still. His face softened somewhat at the closeness, at the shaky breath that slipped past your lips as your eyes stayed oh-so focused on the way his curved into a wicked grin the more the thought blossomed in his mind.

"One that will burn you should you even try to remove it. Or perhaps better yet, a curse," as he spoke you found yourself drawn closer, entranced by the hardness in his pants that pressed to your waist now, chasing a kiss you weren't certain he'd give. "Or I could use hellfire to brand a symbol of my name beneath your eye - small enough not to ruin your beauty, large enough that everyone who sees you knows that you are mine."

He released his hold on your face only to drop his hand lower, lightly gripping your neck in a silent show of power. He regarded your expression carefully for any sign of distress and only grinned wider when he instead found observed your blown pupils and parted lips, his fingertips soaking in your accelerated pulse beneath them.

The fire in his tone sizzled for a moment, still lingering in each word but not quite as fearsome as even just a moment before. Sweet, almost - if you didn't know any better to see through the charm.

"Swear to me anew," he cooed, his thumb rubbing along the side of your neck as he spoke, eyes gazing at you with an expression that could only be described in adoration. The most temperamental volcano, fury subsided as fast as it'd come. When there was an offer to be presented, he could truly be oh-so-sweet. "An amendment to our existing contract. You are not to hide that we are joined together, or you will face consequences that will last forever."

Did it matter if you even truly had the option to refuse him when all you wanted to do was please him again? The proposition of more appreciation, the promise of his praise. That fact alone was enough to ensure your answer before you'd given it.

You nodded in understanding - specifics beyond what he'd stated weren't needed to convey the weight of his words.

"On one condition."

The bravery again - though your voice was more meek as you rightfully walked the fiery embers before you, navigating what you knew could still erupt again if you pressed too much harder again. To prove your point his eyebrow raised in annoyance, nose threatening to scrunch upward in frustration before you elaborated.

"We seal this contract with a kiss."

An expression that had almost been rage morphed into perplexity before a laugh burst from his chest, your mind lost in the sound and the view of his fangs, thoughts wandering somewhere fittingly sinful for your surroundings.

"And you talk about my theatrics."

Despite his taunting he brought you closer with his iron grip on your waist, the hand holding your neck still sliding up to your cheek as his thumb claw grazed along your bottom lip in passing. He looked at you like a child receiving a new toy, regarded you with an adoration often seen in temples.

And then, though there was still a subtle laugh shaking his chest, he held you reverently as he angled his head toward you. The rest of his expression as he approached would go unnoticed as your eyes slipped shut, holding your breath in anticipation…which he exploited for just a moment longer than was necessary before he finally gave you what you both wanted.

Your lips met like the strike of a match - the spark between flint and stone. It burned like frostbite and was over just as soon as it'd begun, taking your remaining breath with it.

It was a purr that rumbled in his chest as he ran his nose along your jaw that reminded you to breathe, his lips pressing a kiss over a pulse point on your neck pulling a gasp from your lungs as his hand slipped down the other side of your neck. Holding you like an artifact his fangs teased the skin on the spot for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened further, the tips of his claws threatening to break skin.

He withdrew before his composure melted, filling his chest with a deep breath to bring himself to full sense again.

"Come. I'm far from through with you, but you truly do need a bath."

It was…nice, which didn't quite seem wholly appropriate considering who he was and the fact the atmosphere had been threatening and tense only moments before. He sank into the tub first, motioning for you to join him by taking place between his legs. There was a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that all of this was because he wanted something - everything possible from you, and that he knew the best way to reach his goal was to manipulate.

The fact you were aware of it did little to stop you from enjoying it.

He made sure he ate and drank in a silence you didn't know he was capable of as his hands made work cleaning your body, a bath in the House of Hope proving to be a lavish experience as the water remained pristine and hot no matter how long it went on.

*(Though, it certainly could've just been the heat between your bodies sustaining the temperature).

It was the first time you'd truly relaxed since a tadpole had taken residence in your mind, the first moment of bliss in days. When his claws found your scalp and scratched against it lightly as he massaged soap into it he earned a thank you in the form of the sweetest moan that just couldn't be held back by your lips. You felt his cock twitch against your back at the sound, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest.

"My, my…who knew you could sound so melodic, my dear," his tone was best described as a condescending coo, treasuring the way you melted in his hold and couldn't help yourself from being his to play with. "I want to hear much more of you."

One of his hands slipped from your head down to rest on your stomach as the other went even lower to the top of your thigh, pausing still to wait for your reaction. When you leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes he took his sign, chasing more of a reaction from you by running a single claw softly up your thigh toward your core. The small gasp that fell from your lips wasn't enough, his disapproval noted with a click of his tongue against his teeth. It was impossible to keep silent when one of his fingers connected to your clit, rubbing a swift circle quickly.

The cry that burst from your chest returned the smile to his face, a low laugh filling your ears again as he leaned forward to kiss your neck. Two of his fingers parted your folds as they slipped downward to your entrance, moans falling freely from your mouth you'd forgotten how to close. Taking advantage of the fact he leaned closer to claim your lips, reaching his free hand to hold the back of your head and ensure you couldn't pull away from him.

A dark possessiveness within him considered slipping his fingers into you to feel how your tight walls would grip him, though he knew it meant you would face the consequences of his claws. He could heal you, after all - but you'd always remember the feeling. He'd refrain on that particular thought…

For now.

Instead, he returned his attention to your clit, fingers circling the sensitive nub as his fingers tangled into your hair. He continued to kiss you past what your lungs could take, your eyes opening to attempt to gain his attention. His own eyes remained closed and he only held your head in a firmer grip - no doubt he knew though he couldn't see - and he continued that way until your vision was just starting to blur and your hole was clenching around nothing. Only then did he release you - releasing you fully by pulling his fingers away too - allowing you to take the breath you needed.

So close to the edge of release only to be pulled back away from it. It was a cruelty that made the first sound that left your lips when your breath returned to be a whimper.

"Please," you could barely get the shaking word through your lips, it could hardly be considered speaking when each letter was filled with a whine. "More."

"Now now, you will learn to take what I give you," he cooed, releasing his hold on your head to run the back of his fingers down the side of your face and neck, lightly pushing your head to the side to press a kiss beneath your ear. "With no questions asked. Won't you? You'll have to show me you can be patient."

You couldn't help the whimper that slipped past your lips again, your body singularly focused on its need for more. Your eyes are wide and desperate as you gazed at him, hands reaching to grasp at his thighs and squeeze. "'s not fair…"

Your ears were filled with his boisterous laugh again before he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, allowing his lips to stay against your skin as he spoke.

"Perhaps not for you, but it's perfectly lovely for me," you realized as he spoke that he was having fun, a giddiness in every word that proved it. Unrehearsed, without anger, without practiced intentions. Him. "Finish up in here at your leisure, then join me in the boudoir."

With a snap of his fingers he was gone and the option to beg for more removed you were alone, left to wonder exactly what awaited you when you did join him. The kind of excitement that matched the feelings of fear and anxiety bubbled in your stomach, making your movements a little clumsy as you navigated your way through one last wash of your body.

The feelings remained as you removed yourself from the water, realizing immediately you'd been left with no towel or robe or clothes to utilize on your walk. Feeling a flare of preemptive embarrassment you found your way to the hall, doing your best to navigate quickly as you muttered to yourself.

You were distracted in your search that you didn't notice Haarlep had stalked up to you from the dark after you'd passed until their voice filled your ears. "My, my, aren't you just delicious," he purred, continuing to walk closer toward you when you froze in your tracks. They circled you like a predator circled prey, like a painter studying their subject - it was enough to make your face burn again. "I wouldn't mind slipping into your image for the occasional rendezvous."

"Haarlep."

Their name left your lips as a gasp and they stopped in front of you with a wicked smile, handsome and proud and no doubt every bit as convincing as their Master, if not more. "So you do know me. How flattering."

You were cornered against a wall with one of their forearms resting next to your head, the other grasping your hip in fingers much gentler than the ones they were mimicking. They leaned closer until your lips were brushing together feather light, the anticipation of a kiss lingering heavy in the air and sending your heart rate skyrocketing again.

"Oh, what fun we will have together…"

Their sinful tongue left their mouth to lick the seam of your lips until they fell open, the muscle slipping into your mouth to kiss you fully and hungrily. As you swallowed their spit you started to feel new levels need, the definition of the word insatiable finally grasped in your mind. One of their knees knocked apart your legs as their hand left your thigh, slipping to examine how wet you were and finding their digits slid through your folds with embarrassing ease.

"Mm…but that will be for another time," there was a sincerity in their words that made them so believable and you were certain they were correct about it. "Tonight, your job is to make him a bit more tolerable for the rest of us. Be a good pet and behave, won't you?"

As they sauntered away in a pace that existed to entice you to follow they threw one last wink over their shoulder, pointing you in the direction of where you were meant to go. In a haze you made your way to your destination, opening the doors to find your Patron sitting on the grand bed with glistening satin sheets, lounging back against the headboard with his arms outstretched, waiting for your arrival. He'd covered himself with an expensive robe, the one he'd deprived you of.

The red of its fine fabric matched his burning aura perfectly.

He observed your clumsy movements as you closed the doors with light amusement until the two of you were once again alone, his eyes appreciating your clean form as you walked to the foot of the bed. With a smile he raised a hand to motion you forward with one finger, his features fittingly illuminated by the hellfires that illuminated the room.

He was beautiful. Enticing. This very room could become an easy prison with no locked door if you allowed your resolve to slip.

"Come," he invited in a delicious tone, using one hand to untie his robe and allow it to fall open. He patted his thigh afterward to further elaborate on his instruction, one you were more than willing to follow. "Crawl to me…show me what an obedient, eager little pup you can be."

You did exactly as he told you to, enjoying the feeling of the soft sheets against your skin as you made your way to him. You climbed into his lap and straddled his waist between your thighs, core hovering over his hard and throbbing cock that you now wanted more than logic should reasonably allow. He felt how wet you were when your thighs made contact with his skin, breathing in deep to take in the scent of your arousal.

"My, my, how very eager you are," he spoke of you as if he was being presented with the meal of a lifetime. It made you feel desired in ways you weren't sure you'd be able to experience with anyone else for the remainder of your life. "I have to wonder, did my naughty toy find you along the way?"

You nodded, the only response you found yourself capable of, grinding down against his waist in a way that allowed his length to slip through your folds and spread your slick. His hands grasped your hips to follow your movements, chest vibrating against yours with a quiet purr as he appreciated your movements.

"Oh, of course they did…sometimes they just can't help it, the sinful thing…"

Both of his hands found their way to your thighs to grab them roughly, not making any effort to be mindful about his claws in places it wouldn't seriously hurt you - something that would become a pattern for the rest of your time together. Under his fingertips he could feel the welts that raised as a result of his scratching, smiling a charming smile as he took in your expression.

Finding you perfectly needy for him he reached one hand to grab your jaw and pull you closer, leaving his face hovering inches from yours. His skin was noticeably hotter against yours now, the undeniable evidence that he was just as effected by your closeness as you were his. His other hand gave your ass a swat to encourage you to raise up on your knees again, licking his lips when he could then reach toward your core and run his fingers through your folds again.

It was easier to feel the arousal he - and Haarlep, now - had earned when you weren't submerged in a tub. His fingers took the distance from your hole to your swollen clit painfully slow, matching the deep inhale he filled his lungs with along the way. Lost in how his hands felt against your body again you hardly noticed his tail wrap around one of your legs to hold you against him tighter, ensuring there was no chance of you climbing off before he'd had his fill.

It was hardly something he needed to do, but the implications of it made the experience all the better for him - and for you too.

"Don't forget to speak to me, my dear," he cooed, no annoyance present in his voice though he was hardly happy he had to remind you as he exercised a bit of patience at your current state. "I simply adore hearing the desperation in your words."

"Please, I need…"

Though he'd requested them your words were cut off as he pulled you against him rougher, pressing his throbbing length up into her core as he does. Your sentence quickly turned into a moan, your hands grabbing at his shoulders so you could cling to him in every sense of the word.

"Do go on."

You hated that his taunting tone sent a shiver down your spine and a hot wave of arousal straight to your core. Your desperation flooded every word that came from your mouth. "I need more," you were begging without having to be asked for it, something he would thank you for at a later time. "Something…a-anything you'll give me."

"Anything I'll give you?"

Was that particular choice of words a mistake? You found you couldn't come to a rational answer as you became lost in the embers of his eyes. You nodded, grinding against him to further your consent and ensure the point was driven home - you wanted him in whatever capacity he'd provide, in any way that would earn you more of his favor.

You hadn't realized your lip was quivering and your eyes were slightly watering out of the desperation but he had, soaking in the sight of you so wanton and lustful for him. It was his favorite look on you by far, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to see how truly indecent he could make you behave.

And all for him.

"Then prove to me you deserve it. Prove to me you're worth the effort from me and then I will prove to you that you are mine."

You only leaned closer to entice him the rest of the distance between you. You reached between your bodies with one hand to grasp his cock and rub it through your folds again, lining it up with your entrance and teasing down onto the tip slightly to test what he'd allow. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to express a thought that disappeared as you began to sink onto him, maintaining the eye contact you knew he loved as you moaned out his name quietly. He forgave you when your eyes fluttered closed to focus on taking his length and girth, your forehead falling down against his shoulder as a heavy breath fell from your lips.

"That's it," he was quick to compliment your efforts to ensure you knew how much he appreciated it, hoping the praise would keep you from giving up. "You can take me. Do not get discouraged…"

Your head nodded as another steady breath left your chest, shifting your hips to find the right angle to take him in. Though his words were honied you knew he was hardly the patient type and to avoid a temper change you pushed yourself onto as much of his length as you could take, finally earning a groan from him that was worth the quick shot of pain that being stretched like this brought. One of his arms reached to wrap around your waist and his other hand found the back of your head, cradling you against his form. His wings soon joined, wrapping both of you in privacy and what felt like the ultimate safety.

Within his wings it would be impossible for anyone who entered to see how well you began to ride him after a long adjustment period, how after several minutes of grinding and shifting and allowing him to pump into you you began to take him perfectly. Though he maintained his hold on your head your lips were finding their way to any place they could reach on his neck, chest, and jaw, eagerly nibbling and licking and sucking - testing if you could mark him like he'd undoubtedly mark you.

He decided you were testing him when you bit into him hard, his surprise announced by a grunt and a squeeze from his hand holding your hip. He gave your hair a tug to pull you upward into a hungry kiss, your moans joining together in the room as your hands grabbed his horns to hold him against you.

This is how he wanted you for him forever.

As your tongues danced your movements slowed, his hands meeting on your upper back to press your chest closer to his. Allowing you a partial breath he pulled away from the kiss to watch your face twist in pleasure as his claws dragged slowly down your back, pressing harder the lower they reached as he experimented with what you'd allow. You were eager to prove exactly what he'd requested - you could take what he would give.

His own head dropped to claim one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple and flicking the nub several times before he changed his efforts to suck hard enough to bruise, glad he could stay here without a real breath for longer than what you may have previously experienced. He only pulled away to bite a mark into the soft flesh that immediately spilled some blood - as you continued to ride him exactly how you liked you either didn't notice or you didn't mind, either of which were fine by him.

"Very good," he purred, remembering how well you normally responded to his praise. He was thanked by a quiet moan and your walls tightening, fluttering around his length as he struck just the right cord in you. "Should I allow you release before I have my way with you?"

You were nodding before his sentence was fully complete and begging incoherently as your face buried into his neck again, continuing to lavish the skin with kisses. Your thighs began to shake at the mere thought of release, at how it would feel to gush around his length and how he would moan feeling you constrict him.

Whatever words he chose to give you permission were not fully understood, only their intent mattered. Though he wanted to pump into you at his own pace he allowed you to find release in this position yourself, happy it didn't take much longer for your walls to clamp around him and your head to throw back in ecstasy, your screams undoubtedly filling every wall in the house despite the closed door.

He held you down on his length as you spasmed through the high, enjoying the feeling of your body against his and focusing on how you felt held in his arms. He was always going to take what he wanted from you after you'd found this release but the longer he soaked in how small you were against his frame the more his own carnal desire began to take over his thoughts, a feral need building that wouldn't be long ignored.

"You have hold of me like an addiction," he breathed out heavy, shifting his hips beneath you - earning a whimper - wondering how much you'd truly be able to take. "So…unh…tight…"

Before you had fully returned to your senses he was pushing you onto your back, staying inside you with little effort and pinning you down with one hand on your stomach. His other hand rested at the base of your throat with his forearm beside your head, and just as your mind began to fathom how dangerous the position you were in was he kissed you slowly, silencing reason once again.

You could feel how sensitive you were as he pumped his length into you a few times - slowly to test your reaction. He pulled away from the kiss to examine your face, finding it filled with pleasure and overstimulation - traces of pain were there but you gave no indication he needed to stop.

"Do you think you can take what I will give you?"

His lips moved against yours sensually as he spoke, and you opened your mouth to answer for only a sob to be released. Instead you just nodded, hoping it would be enough in the circumstances and looking into his eyes with a pleading expression. He pressed a kiss to your bottom lip and pushed every inch you could take into you roughly, earning another sob that was muffled as he bit into your bottom lip enough to cause it to swell. He pulled away from the action with a wicked grin and savored your expression for a moment longer before this position came to an end.

He pulled out of you slowly, moving to stand next to the bed. In your haze you listened to him give you instructions to get on your knees and elbows, instructions you followed hastily on shaky limbs as he stroked his length watching you obey. When you were finally presenting yourself to him exactly how he wanted he mounted behind you, still grasping his length in one hand as his other reached forward to circle your dripping hole with two fingers.

"Precious. I will try not to break you."

His fingers were gone and replaced with his cock swiftly, his restraint gone as he thrusted in as far as he could, still trying to press further when he reached the end and smiling when the most beautiful cry filled the room from you. He groaned out deep as his hand found your stomach, pressing against it to hold you upward, reaching his other hand to slip the fingers that were coated in your slick into your mouth.

"So small beneath me," he breathed out, leaning forward to press a kiss over one of the red welts he'd created on your back. He engulfed you in this position, you were at his complete mercy - all hope of being anything but his ever again gone. He would never give you up. "On your knees for me. Just where you should be."

He forgot to be somewhat gentle with you as he thrust into you at a feral pace - or perhaps he just didn't care how little you were able to move when he was through. He continued to kiss your neck, shoulders, and back in any place he could reach, his teeth marking your skin anywhere he could manage. His claws were just as helpful in regard to marking you, reaching to scratch at your thighs and back - until he focused his hand's attention on your ass, spanking and scratching and grabbing roughly as proved to give him additional leverage as he pounded into you.

He was already obsessed with the way you took him with moans and cries while ensuring you stayed in the position he'd molded you into, eyes transfixed on how your tight hole took his length. When this whole Absolute ordeal was taken care of at your hands, he'd happily take this sight every day.

"Look at you just taking me," his voice was shaking now, matching your legs once again. His hand left your stomach to squeeze your throat, accentuating the fact that you were truly just taking whatever he would give. "And you do it so well, you sweet thing."

Content with how marked you were for him his hands instead grasped your waist in the gentlest grasp he'd offered yet, not quite matching the ferocity at which he pounded into you. Through blurred vision you were half aware of the familiar figure that slipped into the room through the shadows, the incubus unable to keep away witnessing what was filling the House with the irresistible sounds of flesh smacking against flesh.

You didn't know if Raphael noticed - you didn't care. You doubted a complaint would be heard if you offered one, and they would leave after you'd reached your release and they'd heard your euphoria anyway.

(Though you did momentarily hope that sinful tongue they'd offered earlier could be put to a better use, though you knew your body would be spent by then).

"Give me another," he ordered, feeling how your body was tensing up again at the threat of release, eager to feel you snap again. "And I want to hear it…"

He reached to rub your clit again at a speed that matched his thrusts, eager to feel how tight you'd squeeze him when you came undone, already intoxicated by the way your velvet walls were fluttering around his length. He was taking what he wanted from your body at a roughness that would no doubt leave bruises for you to feel on the road to Baldur's Gate - he certainly wouldn't heal marks that were a gift from him covering your back and neck and causing you to walk with a limp that so clearly displayed you had coupled with him.

He let you fall to the bed fully, only finding he was able to pound into you harder as you laid flat on your stomach. Unwilling to have you pass out he grabbed your hair on the back of your head and pulled hard enough to force it back so you could continue to breathe, leaning his torso over yours until he could twist your head and claim your lips in a rough kiss. He was hungry - feral - fully lost in himself as he chased his own pleasure, releasing all inhibition as he found his release. The only warning it was coming was the sloppiness that overtook his thrusts as the end neared, a growl rumbling in his chest as he pulled away from your lips to instead bite into your shoulder.

His seed was molten as it filled you, overflowing past his length. As his release filled your womb his teeth broke your skin and he tasted your blood as he was lost in his pleasure. He'd crave its flavor that was entirely you just as often as he'd crave claiming your womb now, knowing the mark would show you were his.

He continued to pump into you slowly several more times, holding you still as you squirmed and whimpered from the overstimulation, hearing the shake in your breaths and sweet sounds that proved to him you were crying. When he decided to pull out completely his chest shook with a quiet, dark laugh, finding a comfortable position straddling over your ass. His hands were loving in the way a curator's were with art, running over your scratched and bitten back adoringly for several moments, fingertips tracing the marks that would last the longest. He leaned down to press a kiss to a particularly possessive bite mark before removing his weight from you, rolling you to your side to to check that you were still capable of coherency.

You blinked up at him with glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks proving he had been right about your tears. He leaned to press a single gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulled the blanket over your weak body. Selfish of a creature as he was, he was still capable of some semblance of aftercare - though that was it, it was enough from someone like him to someone like you.

"Well done, my dear. A wonderful demonstration of your devotion to me."

This praise - this tone. The very reason you'd do anything he asked, become anything he needed you to become. Anything he asked of you in a moment like this you'd provide. Part of you wondered how long it would take for him to exploit that fact.

"Next time you've behaved for me I will have Haarlep join us. They can lick my seed clean from you as I watch how you look beneath me."

(You'd think more on that particular promise later, when your mind was capable of wrapping around anything other than Raphael's finger again).

His new tone was undeniable and impossible to ignore, the reverence steeping every syllable enough to drown in them. Appreciation, worship. It was difficult to decide if being beneath him or hearing this newfound depth of praise was more fulfilling. You nuzzled closer to him still just barely conscious, physically submitting to the exhaustion that overtook every inch of yourself.

You nodded your head lazily in agreement before burrowing your face in his neck, enjoying the familiar scent of cherries, musk and sulphur that had come to mean power and protection to you. If you were lucky those sinful notes would linger in your senses in the coming day.

Though he was far from one to cuddle, he wasn't one to complain when presented with any show of mutual adoration from you, and he allowed his tail to drape across your legs in a subtle concession to your own desires.

Beyond that, he was still, but he was content.

"Rest," you were intoxicated with this voice, one you couldn't help but wonder how few beings had heard it, one free of any performance - honest, soft. "You will need it before you continue your journey. When you wake you'll be in camp with your cohorts, and when you reach the city again you will return to me."

In your last moments of consciousness, you remained his eager little pup.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

#raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #haarlep x tav #haarlep x reader #raphael smut #bg3 smut #raphael fanfic

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raitonsfw · 4 months

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Hi I’d like to request for Dazai x fem!gf reader and ab that Dazai couldn’t get the thoughts off of his mind since the night before reader allowed him to finish inside for the first time in their relationship and it’s just kinda got him weird ( not in a bad way ) but in a way he wants to do it again until he dies? Also breeding kink? Thank you,

𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚜 | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: Dazai had pleaded day after day to let him cum inside you and you were always so worried about the consequences, a simple ‘no’ leaving your mouth every single time. But the one time you say yes after he begged for it, yearning for it from the very depths of his arousal, Dazai becomes absolutely obsessed with breeding you. And the next day is nothing but new territory for you as he pushes you to your limit, over and over again…and well, guess it’s time to start shopping for the nursery.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut (holy fuck y’all), fem!reader, needy-fucked out-desperate!dazai, breeding kink, cunnilingus, cum eating, creampies (a lot of them), squirting, overstimulation, dubcon, slight masturbation (dazai), dirty talk, yearning, begging, desperation, rough p in v, many positions (missionary, doggy style, mating press), dazai has insane stamina, talks of having children, four rounds (probs unrealistic but who cares?), aftercare, pet names (baby, princess, darling, my love)

a/n: i got really really really carried away, my bad. Fr my sex probably wrote this instead of my mind, im so ashamed of myself. anywho, enjoy my version of breedy dazai! wc: 1.5k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

“Please, Y/N, one more time.” You heard Dazai beg in your ear, his cock sliding into your already abused cunt and you let out a tiny bruised noise. “I promise it’ll be the last round.”

How did you get like this exactly? Underneath him for what felt like an eternity with cum and your squirt dripping down the backs of your thighs and pooling thick against the bedsheets? You knew it had something to do with last night, but your mind was so hazy you couldn’t quite puzzle the pieces together.

“Can I, baby? Please, just one time.” “Fuck, ‘M so close, need to cum so badly.” You remembered Dazai groaning last night, the memory finally faltering up in your mind. And of course, you weren’t thinking– you said ‘yes’, moaned, practically whined for his seed as his dick drilled into your sweet spot over and over and over– You should’ve thought it through but as you heard the telltale grunts from Dazai, burying his head into your chest with a heady moan, your senses became distorted and you begged for him to fill you up.

And he sure fucking did his job too, ropes of cum spurting against your cervix as he stilled inside you, pressing up against it harshly. You couldn’t feel anything else but his cum at the time, it was so wet and so warm inside you as your entire body went numb– and your mind too. You definitely thought once or twice about having his kids but that fortunately brought you back from your sublime wanting, reaching down for Dazai’s hand and squeezing it tightly as he shuddered against you.

You remembered his face when he pulled out, his cock damp with your arousal and the tip wet with remnants of the cum he fucked inside of you and you could see something whirling through his brain as he sat there for a second on his haunches, collecting himself. Dazai had watched his cum drip out of you and run down your folds like it was some sort of prize he had won– and was waiting for it to be given to him. Before you blink off the orgasm that had piled through you, his tongue had caught wind of your leaking cunt and you arched your back off the bed, clutching the brunette’s strands with a whimper.

“Dazai–!”

“Mm?” He had looked up at you, with those precious eyes of his still completely clouded with lust and you let out a sharp moan as he plunged his tongue into you, lapping at all the cum he had filled you with. It was possibly the hottest thing you ever witnessed in your life as his bandaged arms came to rub at the sides of your hips, his mouth moving skillfully against your folds and you felt his tongue curl to get every drop. Dazai tasted you through yet another orgasm, it wracking your body with immense pleasure and once you unclenched from his pointed tongue, he crawled onto you with a fervent kiss.

“What’s gotten into you, my love?” You had asked him once you managed to pull away, carefully rubbing down the extent of his chest, soothing the small scars that shrouded the frailness of his figure.

“Nothing, princess. I just really wanted to taste you.”

And maybe breed you. Dazai didn’t know what to do– ever since he had felt your pussy clench around him as he leaked into you– finally filled you up with his cum, his mind had been constantly begging for it again. The entire next day you were gone, he had been at a loss for words– his dick awfully hard in the confines of his trousers as he paced around the living room in distress. He tried to get himself off, slicking his hand up and down his cock with heavy intent on finishing… but he wanted to finish inside you– it drove him nearly mad as the precum bubbled at his tip but never truly let him release.

He waited for you all day, all fucking day and when you walked in; you were basically jumped. He hauled you over his shoulder with a kiss and a promise, something you were so deftly aware of and you got excited– you wanted to see what he had in store. Your boyfriend was quite theatrical, you could say; sometimes he’d end up with his hands tied in his own worn out bandages and other times, you’d end up with marks in places you didn’t even know he could reach. Very eccentric was your Dazai, the master of heeding your sex like it was dessert served on a silver platter.

And oh, that’s right– you’ve been in three different fucking positions now. The first time, you two didn’t even make it to the bed; he threw you against the plush pillows of the sofa and ripped open your blouse like it was a present, mouthing at the lacey bra you wore underneath. His fingers snaked into your panties like second nature, finding your clit and rubbing against it to warm her up. And a few minutes later, he sunk into you with a groan as you sucked him into your tight heat. And guess what he had started to beg as soon as started to thrust deep inside you?

“Baby, please can I cum inside again? Would mean the world ‘t me… I wanna–” And your response had been the same as the night before. A yearning yes, complete with a moan of his name to spur him on even more.

You could feel the cum seeping out of you as he laid you down onto the edge of the bed, the second round much more languid than the first. Dazai rolled his hips into you, peppering kisses down your chest and through the crevices of your neck and all you could do was push back against him in earnest as another orgasm crept up, threatening to burst in your nerves and it overtook you with a tremble. He came with a whimper of your name, seemingly more desperate than before, his eyes glancing down to your cramped pussy and watching the cum ooze out of you.

“Need you still, can we go another round?”

You were flipped onto your tummy, his hand pushing against it so you can get into the position he needed you in– on your hands and knees, with your back arched beautifully to show the swell of your ass. Before you could complain about feeling weak, he plunged into you. Your knees nearly collapsed in on themselves, but Dazai held you up with the hand on your tummy and plowed into you like it was his last day on Earth. And yet again, you chased your overwhelming orgasm as he bruised your cervix with every thrust.

This time was different as a wave of heat rushed over you– some type of pressure you’ve never felt before and you couldn’t even warn him as you squirted all over his cock with a shaky cry. You tightened around him, pulling his third orgasm from him inadvertently. “H-Holy shit, baby…”

And that’s how you got here, with Dazai pleading in your ear for one more fucking round.

You were in another position now; he moved you into a mating press and your legs shook with overstimulation as he held onto them. You honestly weren’t sure if you could cum a fourth time and it was the same with Dazai, but all he wanted you to do was milk him dry. He never expressed it to you, but you knew in the back of your mind that you made him into this monster, this goddamn fucker who wouldn’t stop til his cock leaked out nothing.

“Doing so good for me, darling. S-So fucking good. Wanna breed this pussy, till you're so full– till you have no choice but to have my children.” His eyes were rolling back as you stared up at him with dazed eyes, his words hitting you just right and your brain short-circuited with such a dangerous desire. His entire body had started to shake from overexertion and his praises were babbled on his tongue, stuttering along with his hips and you clenched around him as he thrusted into you and you felt like everything was falling apart around you. You saw stars as you came one last time, your vision blacking out as you arched into Dazai’s chest.

He followed shortly after and as he came, nearly nothing came out but he still tried to fuck it into you anyway. Dazai let your legs fall against the bed as he pulled out, kissing everywhere he could reach in the process. “Did so well, my love. Was so perfect for me, I love you so much.”

The praises didn’t stop for a while, even as he carried you to the bath and let you soak first before he even dared to try to fit in beside you. Dazai changed the sheets as you caressed the marks on your skin, bubbles soaping up the bruises and you whined out for him a few minutes later. He came running when you did so, making sure you were alright and you clinged onto his arm, unwrapping his bandages with a graceful twist. “Get in with me…”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

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dmitriene · 3 months

Text

THOUGHTS ABOUT BIKER SIMON AND HIS ATTRACTION TO YOU.

cw: fluff, comfort, smut, established relationship, brief mention of simons past, coul be slightly ooc simon, unprotected sex, p in v, public sex (on motorcycle), creampie, kisses, mentions of posessive behavior, simon having a hard time to confess his love to you, that's all. pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

simon's behavior comes down to how a black cat behaves next to a person he has taken a closer look at, he is as affectionate as a cat can be, whom miss fortune has been desperately avoiding all his life, but at the same time still going towards affection, in this case, to you, the one who gives it.

it is very easy to notice that he accepts care for him slowly, meekly, but in response he cannot squeeze out a word, he responds with actions, and to almost every “i love you, si„ there is not an expected confession, but a gesture that shows his affection wider than a few fleeting words.

if you needed to get somewhere quickly or leave somewhere, simon was right there, the motorcycle parked near the place where you were waiting, while both of his gloved hands held the second helmet, bought especially for you as soon as you started dating — with the aim of not only protecting you, but also carefully introducing you to part of his life, riding and fiddling with bikes.

you carefully extracted information from him about his life and hobbies, every time you drove together along the wide streets at high speed, your arms gently wrapped around his waist and clung to his leather jacket, he answered your every question willingly, with a gentle chesty growl, sometimes laughing hoarsely under his breath and teasing your desire to get to know him better

— “curious thing you are, darling„

and you always playfully pouted, resting your helmeted forehead against his back and lightly pinching him where your hands were placed on his waist, squeezing tightly so as not to slip away, and at the same time touchingly playfully attacking him through the fabric of his clothes with small pinches, to which he just laughed, listening to your mutterings

— “just wanna know you better, si.. you don't tell me anything„

and you’re right, he knows this, but his service in the task force and the nightmares he experienced forbade him to talk too much about himself or his feelings, the person hidden under the balaclava of the skull was considered forever dead and hiding in the shadows, and the absence of a photograph on his dossier in the army will be remembered there forever, but little by little there is less and less of that ghost of a man left, because you are definitely bringing back that side of him that he managed to bury.

simon gave flowers to someone for the first time in his life when your relationship just started, he didn’t even buy them for his own grave from which he fled, but he knew that he had to buy them for you, and the colorful fragrant petals became the beginning of your relationship, as bright as a lipstick mark on his bare cheek that day, and he would happily never wash it off, but you both know that you will put more and more of them, marking his whole face.

his affection is reflected in reverent touches, sometimes obsessive, every time you go out somewhere together, the heavy hand on the bottom of your back feels like a pleasant weight, with the care of which he later outlines your waist, holding you close to him not to control, but out of concern.

despite the fact that he is slightly unfamiliar with being so close to women, to signs of attention, you still notice that he is not afraid to take your hand in public, hug you, allow you to slightly lift his mask to kiss his lips or cheek, but it is even more tactile in the warmth of the walls of your home.

hugs from the back, arms exploring your body completely openly, small kisses on the back of your neck and face, he practically carries you around the house in his arms — all just for the urgent purpose of having you close, so that he can cuddle up to you and feel you close, while are you gently teasing him with the words — “aren't you clingy, si?„ but simon only grumbles and buries his nose in your chest while you carefully sorting the light strands of his hair, stroking.

but at a certain moment he breaks down, unexpressed feelings gather in an uncomfortable lump that worries simon, you are so affectionate for him, so beloved, but he cannot even answer a word of mutuality to you, he feels that he is not enough, feels helpless, and therefore solves everything with intimacy, squeezing your body in his arms carefully, gloves are hastily thrown off at the feet so that bare, rough, warm palms touch your soft skin, squeezing your hips and rising to your waist as you spread your legs for him, so lovely, leaning on his motorcycle.

your legs wrap around his waist, trembling slightly with each powerful thrust as your bodies press against his bike, balancing in a dangerous, uncomfortable position, elbows rubbing against the leather seat and the smooth surface of the bike, but it’s nothing compared to the heat in your body and the heaviness in bottom of your stomach.

simon's kisses are hot and demanding, his tongue sliding wetly into your mouth, muffling your moans and whimpers, the taste of his lips mixing with the overwhelming sensations rushing through your body as he greedily captures your mouth, his lips and tongue exploring every inch, making you to suffocate and at the same time desperately demand more.

he breaks the kiss, his completely darkened caramel eyes meet yours, silently ordering you to remain silent, before he nevertheless exhales into your wet and swollen lips, holding back his moans at the very edge

— “gonna be quiet for me, love, can't let anyone stop and go check from where all this pretty sounds go, yeah?„

and the need for discretion can't help but intensify the tension of the moment, igniting the thrill of the forbidden even more, causing you to hastily nod your head and moan into his open mouth as he again pushes his tongue to intertwine it with yours.

with each quick and desperate thrust, his cock plunges deeper into your sloppy cunt, allowing the wetness and heat to envelop his meaty cock all the way to his pelvic, as the sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mixing with the quiet whimpers escaping your lips despite your best efforts to remain silent and obey simon.

he can feel your orgasm approaching, telltale signs evident in your moan and the way your body trembles against his as simon's tongue explores your mouth with newfound eagerness, sucking on your tongue and eliciting muffled moans from your lips that he swallows.

with every deep thrust, his cock hits your spongy spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, causing the tight muscles of your cunt to clench around his girth, wet, squelching sounds filling the night air as simon's cock slips out slightly, but then pushes back into your tight, slick warmth, pushing you closer to the edge, making you practically scream, babbling

— “si, simon, hmnhrgh!! c-close, i'm close„

and then your hands slide with a slight creak from the surface of his motorcycle, and you instinctively reach out and grab his neck, your fingers curling, clinging to the back of simon's head, somewhere brushing the fabric of his leather jacket and the blond strands of his hair as you give in to the all consuming pleasure, falling completely silent.

every movement of his hips elicits a moan from your lips, your body eagerly responding to his primal dominance, all his feelings poured out into his erratic and rough thrusts as he strokes your waist carefully before pulling you close and straightening up, allowing you to be literally impaled on his girthy cock, muffling the loud sobs in his shoulder as he leans one hand into the seat of his motorcycle, white knuckled, and the other squeezes your thigh, impaling you again and again.

simon's hips snap with more force, driving himself deeper into your slobbering and throbbing cunt, he enjoys the way you clench around him in this new position, almost milking him, making his cock throb with every thrust into your slickness and squirm against your soft walls.

the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix sends a wave of pleasure through your body, coiling the tension in your belly tighter and tighter, and then it snaps, your walls clenching around him, milking him out as you reach your peak, practically biting down on his shoulder from the intensity of the feelings rolling in like a wave of heat.

your slick fluids and cum coat his cock, further lubricating the already slippery rhythm between you, the pulsing, gripping sensation driving him over the edge, his sighs and moans mixing with your incoherent mutterings, and you sing almost in unison about your feelings for each other

— “si, si, fuck!! aahn, l-love you, si, i love you„

— “i know, sweet girl, i know, mngh! f-fuck, love ya too, i love ya too„

his cock throbs inside your walls as he releases his hot cum, filling you up with his potent seed, painting you inside with his milky release and letting it drip down from your clenching cunt, coating his messy, wet from both your liquids cock and down his balls, somewhere there on the ground are still his gloves, on which white drops of your vulgar encounter now falling, the shared release creates a raw, intimate connection between you, the words he has kept for so long fall from his lips incessantly, and he whispers them in your ear, covering the side of your face with hurried, warm kisses.

he doesn’t care about the gloves, he doesn’t care about the roar of cars passing in the distance, which can turn here at any moment, the only thing that worries him is your warm body in his hands and the confessions that he can’t stop whispering to you, he kept them inside himself for so long, and finally gave them a path to the surface, and you will remember this for a long, long time, but for now, let simon take care of you and bring you two back home.

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yoursweetwife · 4 months

Note

how would Ratio comfort a crying sad reader? reason why reader is cryingis up to you (or just not include it thats fine too!)

Warning: comfort, fluff, soft Ratio., female reader, sad reader, bad english

Synopsis: Ratio expected to see anything but the way you cry.

The first thing that Ratio thought about after he went home to your shared apartment was you. He heard from colleagues when he came to check on you in the office that you had left because of an incident, it confused him. You usually warned him in advance, but today you didn't even send a message. However, no one has been able to explain what happened.

Ratio was not good at showing his emotions, and other people might think that he was completely indifferent to you, but this is far from the truth. Meeting you is the best thing that happened to him.

You could easily have improved his mood with your conversations (he really likes talking to you about everything in the world), he realized this right now while walking home, annoyed with today. Fortunately, his plaster head hid his disappointment from prying eyes. At the sight of your house, a weight seemed to fall off his shoulders.

Approaching the door, he is surprised to find it unlocked. Ratio grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"[name], I told you to lock the door."

After opening the door, he quickly went inside and called your name. The apartment was too dark and quiet, since you started living instead, such a thing as "silence" has practically disappeared from his life. It was filled with sounds of activity, teamwork, and love, even when you were angry at each other and not talking.

His shoes were left standing next to yours. As if feeling it, Veritas started walking towards your shared bedroom. Concern showed on his face as sobbing-like sounds began to come from inside.

He watched in horror as your tears stained the sheets. However, besides the bed, you were in a mess. Your hair and clothes were in terrible condition, and quiet hoarse screams came from your mouth, as if you had been doing this for hours. From his angle, he could see you trying to wipe away tears with your hands.

If another person were crying in front of him, there would be little he could do in such a situation, but in order to keep a smile on your beautiful face, the scientist is ready to do anything. Unconsciously, Ratio headed towards you. Strong arms pressed you to his chest, and your face was buried in soft hair. His brows furrowed when he felt you flinch.

"V-veritas? - Your tired voice filled the dark room. - I'm sorry, I didn't keep track of the time. You shouldn't have seen this."

You started frantically wiping your face. Veritas felt anger at the realization that you wanted to hide something so important from him. Do you really think he's going to laugh at you? This conversation can be left for later.

He took your hands and stopped them and turned you to face him. Ratio smiled gently. His hands gently wiped away the wet traces of tears and you could feel that you were ready to cry again, just from this one gesture. After today's incident, you felt very bad, and the presence of Veritas brings you an inexplicable sense of calm.

"It's okay, - Ratio pulled you closer to him, you nuzzled his shoulder. - Calm down, I don't like to see you crying alone."

The gentleness in Ratio's voice scared even him. He stroked your hair soothingly. Gradually, you stopped hearing his words, and the world around you plunged into darkness. But you could still feel his touch.

#hsr x reader #female reader #honkai star rail x reader #dr. ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio

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darkenedurge · 6 months

Text

𝐓𝐨 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

"My dear, surely you don't want to waste this party speaking with an old paladin?"

The younger tiefling's tail swayed behind her, like a coy kitten – a swish, swish, of subtle annoyance. Her brows furrow, and Zevlor almost wants to laugh at her blatantly obvious distaste toward his words.

Until, he doesn't. Because her next words, barrel into his chest like a freight train.

"There are things we can do besides speak, then." And she's serious. Completely, intently.

He can't catch his breath, splutters and stumbles – his wine, fortunate to still swill within its chalice confines. With a cough, and an uneasy chuckle, he offers a light, but dishonest shake of his head.

"You don't like me?" She asks, disheartened – and, painfully so. Her eyes have softened, expression twisting with regret. Zevlor panics.

Panics a little too much. An admittance falling all too hastily from his mouth, "I do! I really do. Since the very moment you set foot through that gate.."

Light, within her eyes once more. Still, she remains wordless, awaiting further explanation. Such, she deserves, he supposes.

"It's just.." A pause, "It's been a while."

Her hands unexpectedly find his, being careful not to tip his drink for a second time, "I don't mind. I want you, Zevlor."

As if there weren't enough heat, torturously lingering between them already..

Her words, the very smallest grace of her touch, sends blood rushing below. To where it shouldn't be, arguably, but it's there all the same. And it's dizzying. Zevlor opens his mouth to once again force her away, lips parting. Yet, what leaves is a quiet, "Then, please."

With a tug, she's dragging him out, away from the vicinity of camp – whipping past watchful, knowing eyes. For a brief, brief moment, Zevlor wishes to disappear. That's until he's tumbling backward onto a bedroll, grass licking at his ears, as her mouth finds his.

And, by the Gods does she taste incredible. Sweet, like ambrosia. Like every piece of Elturel, of what he'd lost, returning to him in one, fell swoop.

His hands settle on her waist, thumbs tracing circles against her clothed skin. Her hand, on a horn – tracing the ridges with an adventurous fingertip. The other, is already palming him – earning an unrestrained, whimpering sound.

He's never been wanted like this.

"Patience," He murmurs, as she breaks for air, "I want to savour every bit of this.. if you'll let me."

She considers, before giving a small, affirming nod – "How do you want me? This is your night."

With a shred of mustered confidence, he succeeds in rolling her onto her back – beneath him, as he had been for her. Hunger, need, dances within her irises.

"No, my love, it is not.. you're our hero, after all. And, I'd like to taste you." His fingers hook beneath the waistband of her camp garments, slipping them down with ease. She doesn't wear underwear to bed, it seems.

Or perhaps, this was an exception for him. That thought, only made him all the more hard – near painfully so. He neglects his own needs for now, parting her legs with gentle encouragement.

Zevlor dips his head, being mindful of his horns, nose burying in her cunt with no sense nor need of patience – his tongue, quick to gain a taste of her. The sweetness of her forces a guttural growl rumbling from the back of his throat, and her hips arch – one hand back, upon a horn. The other, nestling in his hair.

He's slow, to begin with, tongue swirling her clit with expert technique, and with patience. His resolve is strong, until his name whines past her lips – hips rolling. Then, and only then, does he further his pace, the pressure of his tongue increasing tenfold. His name, again, again, again.

"Zevlor," She moans, cries, "Zevlor, I can't–"

“You can, my heart,” He lifts his head, only for a split-second, “Cum for me, be good.”

A few, additional, incoherent murmurs pour from her mouth – until a flurry of gasps, and pitched moans interject, her orgasm riding mercilessly through every nerve and limb. Zevlor steadies her shaking thighs with a tight, yet not harsh, grip – lapping up her juices, supping one, last taste.

Zevlor grant her a moment – peppering kisses up, down her thighs as her breathing steadies to a regular pace once more, despite the occasional hitch as his teeth graze her skin.

“You did so well,” He praises, following her unspoken lead, as she guides him against a nearby tree – sinking to her knees, “You.. you don’t have to do this, my girl.”

She doesn’t reply, but rather ignores him, the cold night air of spring breathing against his cock as it’s pried free – sending a shudder, coursing through him. Her thumb runs over the ridges, that line the length of his shaft, and he almost buckles – clawed fingers grasping at tree bark to re-steady himself. The notion earns a small, adorable breath of a laugh from her, before the entirety of him disappears within the cavern of her mouth. Her tongue teases the tip, cheeks squeezing the length of him. He could’ve cum at the snap of her fingers, at the first, instantaneous press of her tongue against his cock. But he holds back.

Her efforts are swift, clear that her favour was merely in order to prepare him for her. Prepare herself, to take him. She releases him with an audible ‘pop!’, and gazes up at Zevlor – doe-eyed, pupils blown wide with blaring desire. “How do you want me?” An echo, of a question she’d prior asked, before he was gifted the taste of her. The divine taste of her.

Zevlor’s head is reeling, and there’s an unintentional silence as he considers his options. The colour in his cheeks darkens, “Would it be.. old-fashioned of me, to ask for missionary?” A following silence, accompanied by her smile, “I just.. I want to see your face, my girl. My pretty girl.” His hand, caresses her hair upon the words that leave him, and her eyes briefly flutter.

“No,” She replies, catching his wrist, and pressing a kiss to the inner-side – “I think that’s lovely, Zevlor.”

Her words are cemented, as she’s on her back once more – her shirt rid from her body, rolled and placed beneath the small of her back as a makeshift pillow, leaving her bare before him. His breath catches in his throat, admiration ghosting across his expression. Lowering, their hands conjoin in aiding Zevlor out of his armour – his gaze cast aside, shy.

“You’re incredible,” She breathes, hands now tracing the expanse of his stomach, bumping over the ridges that adorn his skin – mirroring those on his cock. His eyes squeeze shut, still shy, but he smiles.

“Are you ready, my heart?” He then asks, clinging to the courage that allows him to look in her eyes, allows him to cup her cheek – thumb running over visible freckles that littered her skin. She nods, tail winding around his leg. Zevlor swallows, thickly, his tail mimicking her own – spreading her legs as it wound.

“I hope your tail speaks truth,” He utters, as he lines himself with her slick, pleading entrance, “I wish for nothing more than to be your mate. Beyond this moment.”

“It does,” The words are spoken in a sharp gasp, as he sheathes himself inside, her walls fluttering graciously around his cock – “I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever,” He pants, hips pistoning at a far quicker, and harder, pace than he’d anticipated, forehead coming to rest against hers – horns gently bumping, “Forever, my heart.”

Her moans slip into tandem with his thrusts, and she clings to him in any way she possibly can – cunt, impossibly tight around his cock, nails pressed into his skin, tail still wound around him. The sounds of their sex is embarrassingly loud, unrestricted. Zevlor’s name rolls off of her tongue like a prayer, and he can’t see himself lasting much longer.

To which, he announces, voice cracking, breaking, “I won’t.. I’m not going to last..”

“Then, don’t,” Is quipped in reply, in speedy succession, a kiss pressed to his lips – “Cum for me. Cum inside me.”

Zevlor’s eyes widen, the knot that coiled within his abdomen beginning to snap, “You’re sure?” – the question is strangled from his throat, hips still driving relentlessly into her.

“Yes,” She whines, “Yes, yes, yes, just– please.”

And who is he, if not a man, living to please his partner? Zevlor allows himself to tip, or rather crash, over the precipice – filling, spilling his seed into her with a shuddering cry of release.

They remain, for a minute or three, within one another’s embrace – kisses planted upon Zevlor’s shoulder, before her lips are stolen by his, tongues dancing in perfect unison.

“I love you,” Zevlor rasps, before interrupting himself with yet another, sloppy kiss, “I love you so much, my darling.”

“I love you too, Zevlor.”

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate iii #bg3 #tav x zevlor #zevlor x tav #zevlor x reader #zevlor x you #tiefling tav #tieflings #bg3 smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 zevlor #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #zevlor

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praisethegabs · 8 months

Text

AKRASIA

ID!Professor!Leon Kennedy x Student!F!Reader

euphoria masterlist

summary: you met him during a party, and it was a one night stand for both of you. (un)fortunately, it turns out he's your new college history professor, and neither of you expected that.

warnings: age gap, reader is in college and in mid 20s while Leon is in his 30s. NSFW content, delicate to rough sex, p in v, oral receiving (both), praise kink, degradation kink (eventually), use of pet names (bunny), vaginal fingering, masturbation, cum swallowing, dom!leon and sub!reader. leon is insecure af. oc named chloe as the reader's best friend.

word count: 5684k

a/n: this is a new mini series I'm writing since I had a hard time with creative blocking, and I'm taking this very slow just in case.

AKRASIA is the state of mind in which someone acts against their better judgment through weakness of will.

You sat in your cozy room in the apartment you shared with your best friend, Chloe. The pale evening light casts a warm glow over the mismatched posters adorning the walls. Your textbooks were spread out across your desk, a mountain of assignments awaiting your attention. But Chloe, your vivacious best friend, had other plans.

"Come on, my lovely pumpkin," Chloe pleaded, tossing a colorful scarf around your neck as she perched on your bed. "You can't spend another Thursday night buried in textbooks. It's the first college party of the semester, and you've been MIA for weeks!"

"Chloe, you know I have that history essay tomorrow morning. I can't afford to waste any more time." You sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"But it's not just any party, it's Jake's party! He's practically begged me to convince you to go. And you know he's got a major crush on you." Chloe's bright green eyes twinkled with mischief as she leaned closer.

Your cheeks flushed at the mention of Jake, the charismatic guy from your history class. You had caught him stealing glances at you during lectures, but you were too wrapped up in your studies to think much of it. Besides, you already had your share of a "bad girl" period. Now, you need to finish your obligations.

"I don't know, Chloe," you hesitated, twirling a pencil between your fingers. "I feel so out of my element at those parties. I used to get drunk just for fun, but I don't do that anymore"

"Sis, that's what makes you unique. Besides, I promise you'll have fun. And who knows, maybe Jake will be your study partner for that history essay or whatever you need. It's a win-win!" Chloe chuckled, tousling her auburn curls.

You bit your lip, torn between your dedication to your academics and the allure of a night filled with laughter, music, and maybe even a spark of romance. You glanced at your textbooks, then back at Chloe's eager expression.

"Okay, Chloe. I'll go to the party. But only for a couple of hours, and you owe me a serious study session tomorrow." Finally, with a hesitant smile, you relented.

"Deal! Now, let's get you ready. You're going to look stunning, and I promise you won't regret this." Chloe's face lit up with triumph as she jumped off the bed.

As you both began raiding your closet for the perfect outfit, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with a touch of nervousness. Little did you know, this college party would mark the beginning of an unforgettable chapter in your life.

After a shower, you stood in front of the full-length mirror, twirling in your black cocktail dress. Your reflection grinned back at you, the dimples on your cheeks deepening as you admired your outfit. The cocktail dress that Chloe picked up for you, which she said it looks beautiful on you. She was perched on the edge of your bed, her perfectly curled auburn hair cascading over her shoulders.

"You look amazing, sweetie" Chloe gushed, adjusting her own outfit. "This party is going to be epic!"

"Thanks, Chloe. I can't believe you really convinced me to go to this college party." You laughed, the excitement bubbling within you.

Just then, your phone chimed with a familiar notification tone. You picked it up, your heart sinking as you saw the message. It was from Matthew, your ex-boyfriend. The name alone sent a shiver down your spine.

"What is it?" Chloe asked, her eyebrows furrowing with both concern and curiosity since you had a strange expression on your face.

"Hey, I know it's been a while, but can we talk? It's important." You sighed, your fingers trembling slightly as you read the message out loud.

"Oh no, not him again. What does he want now?" Chloe's expression shifted from excitement to concern, her voice sounding annoyed for a moment. She really hated your ex.

You chewed your lower lip, feeling torn between responding and ignoring the message. You hadn't spoken to Matthew since your messy breakup a few months ago. Your relationship had ended in bitter arguments and hurtful words.

"I don't know," you replied, your voice wavering. "Maybe it's something urgent. I should at least find out."

"Honey, I've been looking forward to this party for weeks, and I had a lot of trouble to convice you to join me. You can't let him ruin our night. Besides, he had his chance to talk when you needed it." Chloe shook her head, her green eyes filled with worry, and her face with evident disapproval. She really cared about you.

You sighed again. It was really difficult to put your past behind, especially after everything you had with Matthew.

"Look, you go first, and I'll meet you there." You glanced at Chloe, hoping she would give up and just leave you to take care of your ex-boyfriend on your terms.

"Do you promise?" Chloe asks, with those big green and puppy eyes, which she did every time she wanted something.

"Yep, I promise." You nod your head and smile when Chloe screams like a little girl, hugging you tight.

As you watch Chloe leave your shared apartment, your entire attention returns to your screen. You felt a wave of buried feelings returning slowly, leaving you with the hard choice in hands. You hesitated, your phone still in your hand. You knew Chloe was right, but curiosity gnawed at you.

"I'll just send a quick reply. Let him know I can't talk right now." You muttered to yourself, deciding what was best for you at the moment. You typed out a short message, your fingers tapping the screen rapidly. "Can't talk now, Matthew. At a party. We'll talk later."

But as soon as you hit send, your phone chimed again, this time with a call from Matthew. You watched the screen light up with his name and number. Your heart raced, torn between answering and turning it off.

Instantly, you pictured the image of Chloe in front of you and what she would say at this very moment. She would, of course, curse him a lot, and then, as your best friend, she would say something like, "Ignore it, honey. You made your choice. Let's not let him ruin our night"

And again, she was completely right.

As you entered the place, the pulsating beat of music washed over you, drowning out the noise of your own doubts. The college party was in full swing, with colorful lights flashing in time with the rhythm, creating a kaleidoscope of patterns on the walls.

You weaved your way through the crowd, your heart pounding with anticipation and a hint of anxiety. Your best friend, Chloe, had convinced you to attend, promising a night of unforgettable fun. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for Chloe's familiar face amidst the sea of strangers.

You finally spotted Chloe near the makeshift bar, holding two red plastic cups filled with a mysterious concoction. Chloe grinned when she saw you and waved you over. Chloe joined you, your tension slowly giving way to excitement.

"Oh, you made it!" Chloe shouted over the music, handing you a cup. "This is the famous 'party punch.' Drink up!"

You hesitated for a moment, then took a cautious sip. The sweet, fruity mixture danced on your taste buds, and you couldn't help but smile. Chloe always had a knack for finding the best drinks.

Feeling the alcohol mess with your mind and following the rhythm of the music, you two chatted and laughed as the night went on, your voices blending with the raucous sounds of the party. You watched as people swayed to the music, their bodies moving in sync with the beat. It was a wild and chaotic scene, but there was an undeniable energy that you couldn't resist.

"Come on, let's dance!" You grabbed Chloe's hand, leading your way to the crowd, letting your body follow the flow.

You swayed to the beat of the music, your body moving sensually with the rhythm as colorful lights flashed around you. The college party was in full swing, the pounding music reverberating through the entire place as students danced and mingled. You, feeling adventurous and carefree due to the alcohol in your organism, held a red plastic cup in one hand and scanned the crowd for someone intriguing. Your eyes settled on a tall, ruggedly handsome man who stood out from the rest of the college-aged crowd.

As you glanced around the people, your eyes met those of a striking man across the dance floor.

He was, obviously, a few years older than the typical partygoer, exuded an air of maturity that drew your attention. He leaned against the wall, his brown hair falling effortlessly over his forehead, and his piercing blue eyes scanning the room with a hint of amusement. He was an enigmatic figure who seemed to easely blend into the college scene while maintaining an air of mystery. For a moment, you thought he was too old to be there, but can you blame the man for wanting some fun? Despite the age, he was very handsome.

And his eyes were locked specifically on you.

Your eyes locked for a moment, and you felt a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks. You couldn't believe that this stranger was actually looking at you. A burst of self-confidence surged within you, urging you to take action.

You couldn't resist the urge to approach him, so you casually sauntered over, a playful smile curving your lips. You didn't let their age gap deter you; after all, age was just a number, right?

With the music pulsing through your ears, you decided to seize the opportunity. Hopefully, you could put the blame on alcohol and say you weren't thinking right — despite the fact that you weren't that drunk. You made your way through the crowd, not even seeing Chloe around, your heart pounding in your chest as you approached him. The closer you got, the more you noticed his rugged charm and the intensity in his piercing blue eyes.

"Hey there," you said, your voice carrying a hint of confidence as you leaned closer to be heard over the music. "You seem like you're in the wrong party. This crowd is usually reserved for broke college kids."

"Hey," he replied, his voice just loud enough to be heard. He then leaned in closer, his expression intrigued but slowly changing. Leon turned his attention to you, a bemused smile playing on his lips. "Well, maybe I'm just here for the youthful energy. It's refreshing."

You laughed, your eyes sparkling.

"Or maybe you're just trying to relive your college days." you said, taking another generous sip on your drink. At this point, you weren't caring about anything else.

"What makes you think I'm not still in college?" Leon raised an eyebrow, his expression teasing.

"Because I've been around here long enough to recognize someone who's seen a few more semesters than the rest of us." You chuckled between another sips, leaning even closer, your faces just inches apart.

"You're perceptive, aren't you?" Leon's lips curled into a grin, and he took a sip from his own cup.

"I have my moments. So, Mr. Mysterious, what brings you to our humble party tonight?" You nodded, your flirtatious energy in full swing. At this point, you were regretting your decision to stop with alcohol because you could never talk to a man like him the way you were doing.

"Well, I heard there was someone here I couldn't resist meeting. Looks like I found her." Leon's eyes held a glint of intrigue as he leaned in slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat at his response, your flirtatious banter taking an unexpectedly genuine turn.

"You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" You asked him, feeling a sudden heat rush over your body like a wave.

"Only when I'm talking to someone as captivating as you." Leon leaned in a bit closer, his breath warm against your ear.

After a few more drinks and flirts, you decided to ask what was eating you inside. Of course, in the next morning, you wouldn't remember anything, and you could live without regrets. Chloe was having fun with a bunch of friends, so why couldn't you just do the same? You were so horny at this moment that you were willing to have fun.

"So, it was my impression, or were you practically eating me while I was dancing?" You provoked him, drinking another sip from whatever Chloe said it was.

He almost spit his drink, completely shocked by your question. The old man looks at you with curiosity, but then, a slight smirk appears on his lips. Those beautiful blue eyes that never left yours made your body shiver, and that smile, well... that smile of him almost ripped yourself in two parts.

"How presumption of yours, huh?" He replied, still smiling, his lips meeting his glass again.

"It wasn't presumption, it was true," you said back, sounding cocky; you didn't care, and you had the balls to do so.

"Well, I might have done that. Who knows?" He says, his voice softly husky, almost low, like he did on purpose to provoke you.

"Well, lucky for you, I might have enjoyed that," you said, leaning closer to his ear, enough to whisper to him and enough to make him smile.

It was amazing what alcohol did to you. Honestly, you weren't this type of slutty horny girl, but let's face the truth; your ex-boyfriend was an asshole and the last time you had sex with someone with your age, it was a terrible experience. Maybe someone older could handle the job well? And besides, you both knew you wouldn't see each other again.

"You know, this party is fun, but I have a feeling the night could get even better." He leaned closer, his voice a soft murmur in your ear, and he seemed to think the same as you.

"Oh, really? And what do you have in mind?" You turned to him, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes.

Leon grinned, his confidence growing as your connection deepened.

"How about we leave this noisy place and head to my apartment? It's not far from here, and we can continue our conversation without shouting over the music." He suggests, and you had the certain he was thinking the same thing you were.

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. The party was completely wild at this point. Everyon, with no exceptions, seemed drunk enough, but the prospect of spending more time with this stranger and handsome man seemed far more appealing. Plus, there was an undeniable attraction that had been simmering between you two all night.

"You know what? I think that's a great idea. Lead the way." You replied with a playful smile and finally decided what you wanted.

Leon offered his hand, and you took it, allowing him to guide you through the lively crowd. You both made your way out of the crowded house and into the cool night air. The stars above shone brightly, and the distant sounds of the party slowly faded into the background.

As you two walked together, Leon couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. The decision to invite you to his place had been a bold one, but it seemed like the right choice. The night was filled with possibilities, and he was eager to explore where it would lead.

When you both reach his place, it's just a matter of seconds before he grabs you by your thighs, pinning up against the wall, kissing your neck desperately. Your hands meet his hair, holding so tight that between his kisses, he groans a little.

"God, you're so beautiful" he moans softly, leaving marks on your skin, to remember you that he was there.

"Stop talking, handsome" you said, now biting his earlobe, making him moan again. You were feeling something between your legs, and you couldn't tell if it was yours or his. "And just fuck me"

"That's what I intend to do" he whispers, still holding you by your thighs, leading you to his room, not caring about the mess he did along the way.

Your body falls graciously on his mattress, and he removes your black dress, throwing it somewhere inside his room. He removes his belt so quickly, like he really wanted this. You can see his cock inside his underpants, which makes you smile.

"Do you like the view, huh?" He provoked, sucking his fingers and making them touch your already wet pussy. "Is this all for me?"

"Shit" you moan louder when you feel his fingers circling around your pussy, tasting you. You sighed with pleasure, leaning back your head, biting your lower lip.

"Don't worry, we have all night" he whispers, his wet lips meeting your skin between kisses, making your body joint and shiver.

You feel him sucking and licking your left niple, his hand holding your other breast while his other hand was still circling slowly your clit. Your moans were so loud, so pornographic that you knew his neighbor would here your scandal. But God have mercy, he was very talented with his hands.

And then, without any warnings, you finally feel him inside, slowly sliding between your legs. You groan, letting him know you needed time to adjust to his size. Your nails found their way into his skin, leaving scratches that would take time to heal — a reminder about this night.

When you feel comfortable enough with him, you nod slightly, and he starts to move between your legs, penetrating you so softly and yet so caring. His eyes observe you, sometimes his lips meeting yours in a smooth kiss, and sometimes moaning in your ear.

You follow his pace, and when you notice, he's moving faster inside you. One of his hands holding yours so tight that it's almost impossible to escape his grip — which you don't intend to do. You wouldn't mind be his bitch for a night.

"You're taking me so well" he moans again, leaving marks on your breasts and smiling as his hips hit yours harder.

"Oh, fuck..." you moan again, biting your lower lip and closing your eyes, already feeling a wave of pleasure running through your body.

"Oh, be a good girl for me" he teases, his free hand circling your clit again, making your body joint.

And he kept teasing you for a very long time. Each time you were close to orgasm, he stopped what he was doing to make you beg for him and your pleas were almost insignificant to him, despite the fact that he was enjoying seeing you beg to cum.

"Please, let me cum" you begged again after the fifth time he denied your orgasm. You were almost crying at this point, unable to hold the ache in your pussy. "I need you, please"

"Such a baby girl begging for me" he said, smiling and starting to circle you clit again, making you whine. "I'll let you cum if you take me in your mouth right now"

He stood up on the edge of his bed and you crawled into him, opening your mouth to put his cock inside, sucking him while your hands massaged his balls. You can hear him moan, grabbing your hair to force you to keep sucking him. You started to tear up, gasping while his cock was inside your mouth.

He didn't care.

You kept sucking him until he released his cum inside your mouth and he didn't had to say anything. You swallowed him, like the good girl you were. And with his smile of approval, you knew you earned your time. He made you lay back in his bed and started to suck your clit, tasting yourself in his mouth.

"So good" he said, holding your thighs against his shoulders, sucking you, licking your wet pussy.

"S-shit" you moan again, holding his sheets with violence, wanting desperately to cum on him. Your moans get higher and again, you started to feel the warm pleasure in your body.

"Cum for me, baby" he orders smoothly again, giving the attention you required, his tongue doing such a great work on you.

Finally, with his approval, you had the liberty to release yourself. You felt something hot coming out of you at the same time that your body reached the peek and you finally had the orgasm of your life. You had to control yourself, your body almost collapsing while his mouth was still between your thighs.

And after you had your orgasm, releasing your cum on him, he smiled at you, licking his lips to savor you and then crawling his way to your side on his bed.

"You're okay?" He asks, going to his bathroom to grab paper to help you clean yourself. "I hope I wasn't that hard"

"You kidding me?" You ask him, cleaning yourself from the mess he did. "You were great, I'm impressed"

The moonlight cast a soft glow through the curtains, filling the room with a gentle, silver light. Leon and you were laying side by side on the cozy, disheveled sheets, your breathing slowly returning to normal.

Leon turned toward you, his eyes filled with tenderness as he reached out to stroke your hair, his touch feather-light.

"Are you okay, really?" he whispered, his voice filled with concern.

You smiled, your eyes shining with a mixture of contentment and affection.

"I'm more than okay. That was... amazing." You said honestly to him. And it was entirely true; despite his age, he was the best sex you ever had.

Leon's smile mirrored yours as he continued to run his fingers through your hair, tracing soothing patterns along your back.

"I'm so glad to hear that," he said. "But I want to make sure you're comfortable. Is there anything you need right now?" He asks, sounding curious and kind. You felt he came from a fairytale. He was too good to be real.

You thought for a moment, then shook your head.

"I just need you here with me, like this."

"I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere," he promised. Leon leaned in and kissed your forehead gently, his lips warm and reassuring.

You two lay together in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of their intimate moment. Leon's caring touch and reassuring presence were all the aftercare you needed, a reminder that your connection ran deeper than the physical. As you both drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, you knew that this bond was something truly special, despite the fact that you both also knew it wouldn't happen again.

As the first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, you groaned and slowly opened your eyes. The unfamiliar surroundings of Leon's apartment briefly disoriented you until the events of the previous night came flooding back into your memory. You'd met him at the party you went with your best friend, and one thing had led to another. Now, you were here, alone in his apartment.

With a groggy sigh, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, rubbing your temples to soothe the pounding headache. Your mouth felt like a desert, a testament to the amount of alcohol you'd consumed the night before. Your bleary eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of Leon.

A folded piece of paper on the coffee table caught your attention. You reached for it, your fingers trembling slightly, and unfolded the note. Leon's neat handwriting greeted you:

"Hey, stranger. I hope you slept well. I had to head to work early, but I didn't want to wake you. There's coffee brewing in the kitchen to help with your hangover, and I left some pain relievers on the counter. Make yourself at home. There's my number if you need anything. Leon"

You couldn't help but smile. Despite the awkwardness of waking up in a stranger's apartment, Leon's thoughtfulness warmed your heart. You stumbled out of bed and followed the scent of freshly brewed coffee to the kitchen.

As you sipped the steaming cup of coffee, the pounding in your head began to subside. The pain relievers helped, too. You glanced at your phone and gasped when you saw the time. You were so late for your college classes.

With newfound energy, you left your phone number on his desk and rushed back to the bedroom, desperately searching for your scattered clothes. You managed to piece together an outfit from the items you found strewn across the floor. It was far from your usual put-together look, but it would have to do.

Once dressed, you scribbled a quick note of thanks to Leon and left it on the kitchen counter. You grabbed your bag and dashed out of his apartment, promising yourself you'd explain everything when you saw him again.

As you hurried to catch a bus to your college, you couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn of events. Meeting Leon had been a whirlwind, and while your head still throbbed with the remnants of a hangover, you couldn't deny the spark of excitement and curiosity that had ignited between the two of you.

As you ran down the hall, your heart raced with anxiety. You knew you were late for your history class, but your unexpected encounter the night before had left you disoriented and sleep-deprived. With your disheveled hair and the remnants of last night's makeup still on your face, you approached the classroom door. The chattering of your fellow students stopped abruptly when you entered.

The professor, his back turned to the door, continued writing on the chalkboard. You sighed with relief, hoping you hadn't disrupted the class too much. You scanned the room, searching for an empty seat. Most of your fellow students had already found their places, and the only available desk was in the front row.

You tiptoed down the aisle, trying to make as little noise as possible, and took a seat at the front. The professor turned around, ready to begin his lecture. When your eyes met, your heart dropped into your stomach. It was Leon, the man you had met at the college party the night before, the one you had shared an unforgettable night with.

"Fuck" you muttered in surprise, your face going red like a tomato.

Leon's expression changed from one of stern concentration to one of recognition and shock. You felt your face flush with embarrassment as you realized that he was your history professor. The sounds of your obscenes moans echoed inside your head. You wanted to evaporate.

"Good morning, miss" he said, his voice tinged with surprise, but trying to sound polite. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I...I didn't realize this was your class," you stammered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

The rest of the class watched the exchange with keen interest. You could feel their curious eyes on you. Leon cleared his throat and attempted to regain his composure.

"Well, since you're here, you might as well stay," he said, attempting to sound professional despite the awkwardness of the situation. "We'll discuss your tardiness later. Now, let's begin our lesson on the American Revolution."

As the class continued, you tried your best to focus on the lecture, but your mind kept wandering back to the night you had spent with him. It was going to be a long semester, filled with more than just history lessons.

At the end of his class, you were so nervous that you felt you could explode right there. Leon hesitated as he watched you from across his desk, where he had papers and books strewn haphazardly. Your presence filled the room with an electric tension, one he couldn't deny any longer. You were his student, and you both knew the boundaries you both had crossed were dangerous. And when everyone left his room, you stood up to leave as well, until you heard his voice.

"Sit down," he said, his voice trembling slightly as he gestured to the chair in front of him. You took a seat, your eyes locking onto his, searching for answers.

You never felt this nervous before. You were shaking, and your palms were sweating cold. You wanted to disappear forever.

"We need to talk about last night," Leon began, his gaze never leaving yours. "What happened between us was a mistake, and I shouldn't have allowed it to happen."

Your lips quivered, but you remained silent.

"I'm your professor, and you're my student. It's against the rules, and it's unethical. I can't let this continue." Leon continued, his voice softer but resolute.

You looked down, your fingers nervously playing with the edge of your notebook.

"I know, Leon," you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't deny that I felt something for you. It's more than just physical attraction."

Leon's heart ached at her words, his inner struggle evident. God, this was so wrong, and yet, his mind was a battle over what was right and what was wrong. He couldn't deny he felt something for you too — something he thought he would never feel again.

"You don't understand, I like you too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I also care about your future, and I can't jeopardize it."

You raised your eyes to meet his once more, tears glistening.

"What are we going to do, then?" You asked, feeling sad and, somehow, pathetic. You met him the night before, then why were you feeling like this?

Leon sighed, his resolve crumbling.

"I don't know" he confessed, his voice filled with regret. "But we need to find a way to move past this and focus on your education."

Your eyes locked in a shared moment of vulnerability, the unspoken desire still simmering beneath the surface. Leon had tried to convince you it was wrong, but his feelings for you were undeniable. The battle between his heart and his principles had only just begun.

"I think it's for the best if we keep this as it should be. I don't want to risk anything" Leon said, his voice sounding sad for a moment. "And I'm sorry, but we can't see each other like that again"

You nod and then leave his class. You made your way back to your apartment, wanting a shower, because you felt you could drown yourself in the water and forget everything that happened. He was your professor. You knew it was wrong, but for God's sake, why him? Why did he have to take you to heaven and then throw cold water on your head?

"What the hell happened?" You heard Chloe ask as soon as you enter your apartment. You completely forgot about her.

"I met someone last night" you explained, avoiding details. You were still feeling the effects of the hungover.

"Really? I bet it was good... you didn't even come back home, you naughty girl" Chloe teases you, laughing. "Have you heard about the new history professor? He's really hot"

"Yeah, I got late for his class" you sighed, laying on your bed with Chloe right behind you, excited about the new professor. If she only knew...

"No shit? Lucky you, he's cool. I've heard he was at the party last night and left with someone. I wish I was that lucky" Chloe kept saying, sitting on the small armchair in your room.

"And they saw who this person was?" You asked in panic, suddenly glancing at your best friend, which you regretted immediately.

"No fucking way... it was you!" Chloe almost screams, surprised and then, throwing a pillow on your face. "I can't believe you were banging the new professor!"

"In my defense, I didn't know!" You said, defending yourself. Deep down, Chloe didn't care. She wanted to see you happy. "I found out this morning... but it's okay. He doesn't want to see me"

"Too bad for him. You're too much for him, anyway" Chloe smirks, being the supportive friend you needed.

Chloe always had the ability to make you feel better with few words. You were really thankful for having her; so, you decided to do what he wanted. For the next few weeks, you watched his classes and noticed that, sometimes, he was glancing at you.

How could you both forget that night?

It was almost impossible. He made you feel so fucking good and you wanted so bad to be with him again. You even fantasized having him fucking you all over again, making you completely his. God, this was very hard. They've always said you will always want more intensely what you can't have, and they are so right about that.

And then, after one month since that party, Leon couldn't avoid that anymore.

He felt the urgency to talk to you, to smell your perfume or see your smile. He was going insane for not having you the way he did that day. Why was he feeling like that? He couldn't tell. But it felt good.

"May I have a word with you after class? It's about your essay" Leon says, closer to you and sounding very professional.

"Yes, Mr. Kennedy" You nod your head, already feeling your heart skipping a few beats and your body shaking again.

That was it.

After class, you remained sitting, waiting for your colleagues to leave his room. He avoided your eyes until there were just the two of you. Your breath was heavy, and instantly, you were feeling the heat on your body.

"What is it you want to talk with me?" You ask him, breathing nervously.

Leon gets closer to you, enough to make your body shiver. You look at his blue eyes and the image of him fucking you plays in your head like a movie.

"I shouldn't do this..." he whispers, his breath reaching your face smoothly. "But to be honest, I don't give a shit about morality anymore"

And then, he finally kissed you like he meant that.

It was everything you needed to know. He wanted you, and you wanted him. This could end bad for both of you, but you didn't care. You were weak, and he was weak as well. And right now, he wanted you more than anything.

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florbelles · 1 year

Photo

V: FORTUNE BURY YOU. KIERAN CADWELL IV. dungeons & dragons.

snagged an additional commission from the lovely & talented @beemot of amara’s unfortunate doomed rival and former fiancé, featuring her parting gift to him. i cannot recommend julia enough <3

(companion piece)

#i originally was going to post these side by side but the quality was TOO gorgeous i couldn't bear to compress it #oc: kieran ferdinand goddard cadwell iv #art: kieran #v: fortune bury you #death house crew

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uchihabbynic · 1 year

Text

Trafalgar Law x Crewmate! Fem Reader - Caught

Warning: NSFW, porn with v minimal plot, (m) self pleasuring, Law is forever a mess with his emotions but we love to see it 🤧 🖤

As the journey to Wano Country drew near, Law allowed his crew to indulge in a bit of fun to reset and recharge before their next voyage. Lately, Law had been so frazzled in your presence, letting the taboo that is his crush consume him in ways he wasn't accustomed to. Women were usually a non factor for the Captain of the Heart Pirates but he’d known you for quite some time now and you were practically his right hand; A position that wasn’t to be taken lightly and not easily given.

The level of trust the Captain had in you was unmatched and everyone around the two of you could see the vastly different ways Law interacted with you vs. the rest of the crew. Some would chalk it up to longtime friendship, but his crew knew him better than anyone and could easily see through the lingering stares, the gentle but unnecessary touches - even the way in which Law spoke with much more care towards you. Granted, this had only been a recent occurrence but he wasn’t nearly as sneaky with his feelings as he thought he was.

The icing on top of the cake was when a pipe leak was discovered in your sleeping quarters and Law didn’t hesitate to offer up his bedroom - just temporarily, of course. When the suggestion was made in front of the crew, you happily agreed to stay with him but this didn’t come without the snickers and giggles from the other crew mates; Bepo being the ringleader. Law roared at his subordinates to go make themselves useful as he felt his cheeks rapidly heat up, embarrassed that your shared proximity had turned his loyal steadfast crew into an all out circus of hoots and hollers.

This was already coming off of Law feeling unlike himself all week. It was bad enough that he began to think about you in every decision that he made - every time he managed to lay his head on his pillow and even the moment he opened his eyes in the early hours of the morning, you were his first and last thoughts. But, just 3 days prior to you moving into Law’s bedroom, he could have sworn he heard the faint cries of his name roll off your sweet tongue between the cold, metal walls separating your quarters from his.

At first, he was sure it was a dream after having nodded out with his face in a book but those faint, melodic moans were oh so real and indeed kept him up all night. Trafalgar cursed himself, feeling shameful that he'd begun to look at you differently, think of you … differently; letting the sinful thoughts he normally kept buried in the innermost crevice of his brain, come flying to the forefront of his mind.

Frustrated, Law began to assume you were teasing him on purpose with the way you’d parade around the bedroom with nothing on but his yellow Heart Pirates hoodie that just barely covered the top of your plush thighs. When he first noticed you’d stolen his hoodie one evening before dinner, his mouth practically hit the floor, not expecting to see you wearing his clothes. He felt his heart drop to his ass, eyes shifting nervously when he saw the way your curves stretched the hoodie in all the right places.

Needless to say, the man had been a flustered mess all week.

Fortunately for Law, you decided to join the rest of the crew for a night out at a local tavern giving him the time and space needed to recompose himself. He was a Captain and your respected leader. What did he look like indulging in perverted childlike fantasies?

At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself.

As you were preparing to go out for the evening, Law stepped outside your shared quarters to give you the privacy you needed to get dressed, however; when you made your grand outfit reveal, the Captain swallowed harshly - throat feeling painfully dry and constricted. You practically knocked the air from his lungs when he saw the way in which the ribbed bodycon material clung to your hips or even the way your cleavage spilled out the front - only to be contained by thin straps that hung off the shoulder.

“You’re going out wearing that?” Law frowned, examining you from head to toe, awkwardly clearing his throat, realizing that his question came off way more forward and controlling than he intended for it to.

“Mhm.” you responded casually as you ran your fingers through your freshly curled hair.

“Something wrong with my outfit?” you asked back, slightly annoyed at Law’s tone as you turned to face him, letting him get an even clearer view of your fit.

Law immediately shifted his head to the floor, hiding his eyes under the brim of his hat. How stupid! He thought to himself.

“Course not. I-” Law stumbled over his words trying to make sense of what he meant to say, in a futile attempt to not make an even bigger fool of himself. “Bars can be unsafe you know, just … be careful is all.” Law managed as he regained his stoic demeanor.

“Thanks, Dad-” you said sarcastically, but instantly covered your mouth at the snippy comment that flew out at your superior without even a second thought. “I mean, Captain.” you quickly corrected yourself, nervous that you’d be scolded for being a smartass.

Law’s words got caught in his throat as the nickname dripped from your tongue. His mind was clearly in the gutter so much so, he glossed over the fact that you were being a bit too sassy for his liking. Law just grumbled and made his way to his desk, burying himself into his studies, the way one always does on a Friday night if you’re Trafalgar Law.

As much as he convinced himself that this was about your safety, a nagging, intrusive voice in the back of his head decided to surface.

What if someone else had caught your attention?

With the way you looked in your dress, there was no way that other men wouldn’t take notice and that didn’t sit right with Law. He wasn’t your boyfriend so what could he really say or do besides sulk and drown in his own pity that he wasn't man enough to ask you out himself and accompany you to the tavern.

12:30am struck the clock and Law had been alone, isolated in his bedroom for some time now. Hunched over his desk with only a small warm-hued lamp to provide light; there were papers, highlighters and books scattered about as this was certainly not an unusual scene for the Doctor. Gray irises slowly disappeared under tired, heavy lids as he found himself zoning out more than usual.

As he leaned back in his desk chair for a break, his mind took a sudden turn. Sounds of your needy whimpers and cries rang out in Trafalgar’s ears, replaying the way you desperately called out his name a few nights prior. Law could feel the room closing in on him. His button up shirt felt a bit hot and his signature spotted jeans felt more constricted than usual. With a quick glance down, it was evident that he’d gotten turned on from the thought of your fingers being knuckles deep inside of your sweet cunt, pleasuring yourself, mere feet away from his bedroom.

Law sat back and exhaled deeply trying to calm himself and the primal urges he often suppressed. However, he’d been so overstimulated; truly drunk off you these past few days that he needed to relieve this pent up stress. It was slowly bubbling for days to come, often having been ignored, but the way his cock was now painfully pushing against the rough fabric of his jeans, Law knew something needed to be done.

Just one time wouldn’t hurt.

Law decided to peek over at the clock once more. He knew that the crew would be out for at least 30 minutes more and figured a quick stress reliever would do the trick.

The Doctor fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, instantly shoving them down just far enough to release his strained cock. With a sigh, Law palmed the thick outline of his member, savoring the feeling of the soft cotton providing friction against his swollen tip.

For once, Law completely let himself go as he rested his head back on the comfortable leather pad of his chair. Pulling his cock out completely, he gave it one slow, experimental stroke, hissing from the contact.

He immediately got to work, spitting on his hand and placing firm tattooed fingers around the base of his cock, stroking himself at a steady pace as he thought about you being on your knees in front of him in that pretty little dress you wore out tonight. How sweet it would be for those luscious lips to be wrapped around the tip of his cock, suckling with such force and intent that his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Law’s breathing began to increase and quiet grunts left his lips as he let his head lull backwards, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack, fully embracing this much needed alone time. Law wrapped his fingers around his cock a bit tighter as he picked up the pace, fucking himself with his hand. Images of your mascara-run tear stained face filled his mind as he envisioned that his warm, wet hand was your mouth sucking and slurping fervently as he shoved himself down your throat.

“Fuck … keep going, love. Just like that.” He panted out, desperate whines finding their way past his slightly chapped lips. Law’s chest heaved as he began pumping faster, bringing himself closer to his release.

“God, Y/N-ya, you suck this cock so well …” The words sensually left his mouth with each pump.

Wet squelching sounds bounced off the metal walls as Law mindlessly fucked his hand, wishing it was your sweet mouth. He so desperately wanted to shove his cock down your throat, mercilessly fucking your face and release his creamy seed all over your delicious tits.

His vision began to blur as he found himself on the edge of his orgasm, mindlessly using his other hand to fondle his balls, tugging gently while simultaneously focusing on the tip. The pleasure was overwhelming and Law knew he wouldn’t last much longer. It wasn’t often he relieved himself so he knew the load would be massive.

The pornographic sounds of his pleasure echoed in the metal room as he struggled to keep his grunts under wraps. Your name now tumbling from his lips like a wicked chant with every pump. Beads of sweat gathered around his hairline, causing some of his jet black locks to stick to the sides of his face. With just a few pumps left, he knew that his hand would soon be filled with his milky essence.

As Law brought himself to the cusp of orgasm, there was suddenly a knock at the door causing him to be distracted from his last few strokes. Startled, he released the grip on his cock but it started to involuntarily twitch, spurting tons of thick cum all over his hand and his lap. Law’s unexpected hands free orgasm hit him so suddenly, his fist flew to his mouth biting down, to ensure there would be no sounds made as he rode out his high.

“O-one moment!” He called out to the guest on the other side of the door, praying that his shaky breath wasn't obvious. Law scowled and scrambled to find tissue underneath the piles of books on his desk, desperate to clean up the evidence of his arousal and pull his pants back up.

As Law hurriedly zipped his jeans, he walked to the door casually, hoping that his delay wouldn’t raise any red flags. To his surprise, you were standing on the other side with a lust blown expression on your face.

“Everything alright?” you asked hesitantly, hoping that the flush on your face would be written off as too much alcohol and not the fact that you’d been listening to Law pleasure himself for the last 10 minutes. Your legs were like jelly, your mind was clouded, and the arousal that pooled between your thighs was fierce as you were sure your ears didn’t deceive you.

“Yes, all good here.” Law managed to keep a composed poker face, now stepping aside to let you inside of your shared bedroom.

“How was your night out? The crew behave themselves?” Law did his best to keep the casual conversation flowing. He was slightly fidgety because he had no idea how long you’d been standing outside of the door before you actually decided to knock.

“Crew was fine.” You said casually, as you stepped inside and examined the bedroom only to spot a balled up tissue left in the corner of Law’s desk.

“How about you? Good evening?” You initially figured it’d be best to play dumb. You knew Law was an anxious man and being put on the spot was something he hated the most but with the performance he just put on, there was no way you’d let an opportunity such as this slip by.

Law plopped down on the bed, rubbing his face, exhausted from the orgasm that washed over him moments before you came in. “Yeah, I uh, caught up on some late night reading … you know how that is.” Law was lying straight through his teeth because why would he admit the truth, right?

Suddenly, you kicked off your heels without saying a single word in response. You slowly brought your body across the bedroom until you were standing directly in front of Law, who now had a confused look on his face.

“You know Captain, if you wanted it … you could have just asked.” You said softly with a small smile. You blamed the alcohol for your boldness as you forcefully gripped the front of Law’s muscular shoulders and pushed him on his back.

Law’s eyes practically bulged out of his head, a look of pure horror ran across his face as he began to put two and two together.

You heard. You heard everything.

As Law tried to process a million emotions a minute; embarrassment, shame, guilt, all at once - suddenly a look of calm caressed his features. Eerily calm. He realized that he was exposed and that there was nothing he could do to deny this so he in fact, decided to play along. A sly smirk grazed his lips.

“Y/N-ya…” the deep, gruff tone in his voice sent shivers down your spine as you listened to him say your name with so much lust and desire.

“Yes, Captain?” you said sweetly and batted your eyes innocently as you began to crawl onto his lap, straddling him in your tiny dress, red lacy thong peeking through.

“Show me exactly what you were doing in your room the other night…” Law demanded, his voice sounding sexy and smooth like silk as he looked up directly into your eyes.

“And don’t you dare play dumb with me…”

tags: @jordyn-degas @unsuretater-simp 🖤

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law smut #law smut #trafalgar law one shot #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece one shot #heart pirates

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nyxiswrites1200 · 7 months

Text

𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 ♡ 𝘿𝙖𝙮 2 ♡ 𝘿𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠

Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Resident Evil Death Island

AO3 Link

—--

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, Sexual Activities, Daddy kink, Praise, P in V, Oral, Fluff & Smut, pet names, overstimulation

—--

Leon has very fortunately had some time off. When he's working you're often left with your thoughts and lately you've been having a recurring fantasy.

Maybe it's all those porn videos and animations you've been indulging in to pleasure yourself when he's not home. Perhaps you're just having that especially horny week. Either way, you can't get the thoughts out of your head.

It always starts the same…

Leon has you held up against him, your back pressed into his chest. His bicep wrapped around your neck in a loose manner, making sure you stay held up against him, and his cock buried so deep in your aching pussy. Leon's voice slips praises into your ear as you moan for more.

"Such a good girl…you like that?...yeah, you just love taking daddy's cock into your needy cunt. You're so good for me, darling"

The reminder of this thought was enough to have you tilting your head back into the pillow and your panties feeling damp. Suddenly, you couldn't wait until Leon got home. Maybe you'd finally act on this illicit fantasy.

Some time later, Leon returns home. You hear his keys jingle in the door and then the door shutting behind him. You get up and head downstairs to greet him.

Leon immediately smiles as he sees you and pulls you in close. "Hey sweetie" he speaks softly as he leans in and kisses you so softly.

"You doing okay?" He asks as he threads a hand through your hair.

"Mhm, I'm good" you respond, finding every touch so much more intimate than it needed to be.

Leon smiled warmly as he kissed the top of your head "Good".

You couldn't help but lean forward and bury your face into his chest "Leon.." you spoke softly. A part of you was embarrassed with how needy you felt this week. You've been trying to not bother him with it, even if he could never be bothered by you.

Leon looked at you curiously, wondering what you needed.

"Yes, honey? Is something wrong?" He asked softly, always so caring.

"No no, everything is okay. I just…" you bite your bottom lip before meeting his gaze "I really need you" you finally find the courage to say. Leon processes your words for a minute before a little huff of a laugh escapes him.

"You could have said that sooner"

He picks you up with ease as he carries you to the bedroom. He places you on the bed and kisses you again. You loved his kisses and savored them, you kissed him back desperately. Perhaps you would have held it longer if it wasn't for the week's worth of pent up frustration.

You pull away from the kiss as you grab Leon's shirt and tug it off. He more than welcomes your actions. He assists you in helping him out of his clothes until he's only wearing boxers. He then works on you, undressing you until you're left in your bra and panties.

Leon leans down and kisses a trail down your neck and to your cleavage. You finally feel reality set in on you a little as you speak up "You…you are in the mood, right?" You ask him as you meet his gaze.

Leon chuckled softly as he cups your cheek "Sweetie, I could never not be in the mood when it's you" he chuckled again.

He kissed your lips gently before giving you a small smirk "I'll be sure to show you, how much of a mood I'm in".

Leon tugs down his boxers, letting his erect cock free. He groans softly at the feeling. He brings his hand down, working himself to leaking pre-cum. You bite your bottom lip as you watch with needy desire.

He then gently pulls you up on your knees. He gets on the bed behind you, pulling your back to his chest as he leans into your ear.

"Why don't you tell me about that fantasy, hm?" He says in a tone that's teasing and almost cocky. You were left speechless for a moment, unsure how to respond.

"You…you knew?"

"I did" he said simply in response "I think it went something like this".

His bicep wrapped loosely around your neck, your hands immediately going to rest on his muscular arm. You felt his cock slide against your slick cunt, his tip slipping against your clit.

This drove you mad, all the pent up desire from the past week was fogging your brain. The only thing you were sure of is how wet you were and the need for Leon's cock to fill you to the brim.

"Please…" you beg in a breathless voice and Leon obliges "So needy, honey" his cock fills you with one swift motion, dragging a loud and lustful moan from your lips. Leon doesn't waste any time as he begins thrusting in and out of you. You tilt your head back into his shoulder as he holds you close, keeping you up.

"You needed this so bad…such a needy princess" he chuckled breathlessly as he fucked into you.

"Da-..L-Leon.." you stutter, trying to cover up your 'mistake'. However Leon wasn't going to bypass it.

"Oh? Come on, what was that, princess?" He coaxes and you crumble "D-Daddy…" you stutter out, completely embarrassed at letting it slip. "Again" Leon says, a little stern.

You tilt your head back as you speak "Daddy…" and you feel his cock twitch before pressing deep into you, bottoming out, and drawing a sinful moan from your lips.

"Good girl.." He praises you into your ear. He draws his cock back all the way out except for the tip before pushing it back in, fucking the deepest part of you. His thrusts then become quick and a little rougher as he holds you close.

"Good girl…such a good girl. You like daddy's cock? Sure you do, considering how you're clenching around me" he moans as he feels you tighten around him.

You moan in response "Yes, daddy…I love your cock…I've needed it all week" you admit, finally.

"Been so patient for me…" he says softly into your ear as he fucks how you've been fantasizing.

You could feel your orgasm coming close. Nothing but pathetic moans and whines leaving your lips as you let him use your pussy however he wants.

"You want Daddy to cum inside you? Fill you up, nice and full?"

"Please! Please, oh god, I need it, daddy~"

"That's a good girl…using your words"

You finally tipped over the edge. An orgasm washing over you, enough for you to feel light headed from the pleasure. Leon fucks you through it, until his cock twitches. You then feel his warm cum spill inside of you as he moans into your ear, burying his face into your neck.

The two of you stay silent for a moment before Leon slowly pulls out of you. He carefully lays you back on the bed.

You catch your breath as you laid sprawled out on the bed, Leon's cum dripping out of your used hole.

Leon leans down and lazily kisses along your thigh "Such a pretty girl…you did so well, sweetie" he praises you.

You accept it as you close your eyes for a moment, only for a whine to leave them a minute later. You look down as Leon's mouth latches onto your sensitive cunt. Your hand tangles into his hair as you moan "Leon…it's too much-" you tilt your head back into the pillows.

"Shh, I've got you. Just relax, princess" he says softly. His tongue swipes across your clit before pushing into your used folds. He eats you out, tasting the mix of your cum and his. He holds your shaking thighs as he laps you clean like you're his last meal.

You're nothing but a shaky and moaning mess as he does this, but you don't mind. His nose bumps against your clit as his tongue pushes deeper into you. You feel a familiar overwhelming pleasure as he continues.

"Leon- oh god-...I'm gonna-" you stutter out as your hand grips his hair tighter. He moans as your thighs tighten around his head, keeping his tongue in your pussy as you cum on his face. Leon could die like this for all he cared. His tongue laps at your new orgasm as he lets you grind into his face.

It takes you a minute before you realize you're keeping him held there. You loosen your grip on his hair and let your thighs fall limp onto the bed. He pulls away, taking a breath as he licks your slick off his lips.

"Good girl" he praises before he crawls up beside you and pulls you in close, petting your hair.

"If you ever need me, let me know. No matter what the fantasy is, ok?" He says softly and you nod as you smile at his sweetness.

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wito-chan-bla-bla · 4 months

Text

The first time

Your best friends are offering you a deal that you... can't refuse?

I can't write smut, so… yes… But I just wanted to write something like that, ah!..

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who suggest that you lose your virginity with them because "it's better with us than with an incomprehensible stranger in an alley."

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who pretend to be so confident and experienced that you start to believe they've already had sex. You agree, because they promise you a huge amount of pleasure and tenderness. "We promise, we will be affectionate and kind to you! Just let us give you ~l~o~v~e~."

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who have loved you for many years and even got into a fight over it once. They heard that you liked some guy, and they almost went crazy. You shared your first kiss with them, why not share your first time with them?

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who bring condoms and lube to your bedroom with them. (Just in case. They are going to give you so much fun that no additional measures will be needed). You look at the size on the package with doubt. "Do you know that 'L' means 'large'?" They both just stick their tongues out and wink at you, which you can only swallow at.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who are confused and can't look at you once you are completely undressed. You think they're experienced, so you're no longer embarrassed or afraid, as you did once you entered your bedroom. You stand naked in front of them, your chest sticking out, waiting for them to take action.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who just can't budge. They always thought you were cute and pretty, but now? You are a goddess. They are not sure that they are ready to "desecrate" your body.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who are about to leave because they feel ashamed of their own actions, but then you go over and kiss Suguru on the lips and start removing Satoru's clothes. They both freeze in shock before succumbing closer to you, to your warm skin and the gentle touch they've always dreamed of.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who become hard just from the fact that you lightly touched their cocks. Both of them have been dreaming about this for so long that they can now cum from any of your touch.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who don't let you please them. (And not only for the reasons described above). "This is your special day, baby." Satoru winks at you, trying to hide his own awkwardness, and Suguru silently buries his face in your neck, leaving a fleeting kiss.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who put you on the bed and freeze for a few seconds. They either admire your body or try to figure out what to do with you next. They are afraid that they will hurt you. Still, Suguru musters up his resolve and leaves fleeting kisses on your neck before slowly moving down to your chest. Satoru prefers to immediately lower his hand to feel your soft flesh and hardened nipple.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who are ready to thank any people or non-humans for being in this situation. They worship your body, ask if everything is okay, kiss you, and make you think you're going to have sex with your boyfriend.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who spend so much time covering your neck with kisses and little possessive marks, gently nibbling your shoulders, complimenting your breasts, and finally playing with your nipples. Fingers slide between them, gently, slowly twisting and squeezing. The sorcerers just can't help but kiss them. But what about the taste? Satoru's teeth only cause a little pain when he nibbles on your nipples and slightly wrinkles his nose to hide his happiness. Suguru focuses on sucking on your nipples as if his life depends on it, his right hand pressing against your cheek and supporting your head so that you can lie down more comfortably.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who aren't quite sure what to do with the bottom of your body. You have to patiently explain what the labia, clitoris, and vagina are, and what to do with them all. Fortunately, boys learn quickly, so you'll soon be lying on your back again, enjoying a treat you never imagined.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who are even now trying to fight for you. You have to shush them to stop them from breathing on your pussy and arguing, and they've already done something. In the end, Satoru leans in first and presses a careful kiss to your clit before licking the long way from the bottom of your labia to there. Suguru can only swallow his saliva and bend down to kiss your stomach and mumble that he just can't wait for his turn.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who still find a common language and come to a compromise. Satorus tongue is deep within you, exploring everything slowly and thoroughly. Blue eyes watch your every reaction, so as not to miss the moment when you will be particularly pleased. Satoru may forget mission tasks, but he will never forget where to press his fingers or tongue to make you moan. His big hands rest on your hips, preventing you from closing your legs even a little. Meanwhile, Suguru finds pleasure in sucking and licking your clit, his lips and tongue never leaving it. His dark eyes are also focused on your face, and he wouldn't be able to look away from you even if a gun was held to his forehead. The fingers of his left hand sometimes find themselves deep inside you, exploring everything along with Satoru`s tongue. His other hand plays with your left nipple. You can't refuse him when he gently and quietly asks you to touch another breast that has not received attention.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who almost earn a squint when you cum. They don't know where to look! On your face, on that shock in your eyes, when almost all your most intimate areas are aroused at the same time and so well? Or at your thighs twitching in Satoru's iron grip, the muscles clenching around his fingers, the clit that Suguru continues to cover with kisses? It's all so beautiful that they would love to take lots of photos and record videos, if only it weren't for the fact that they want you to be completely comfortable and trust them!

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who unwittingly overstimulate you because they are too interested. They want to know everything about you. They already know your birthday, favorite color, your favorite character from a video game, TV series, and anime, the name of your favorite toy, your favorite food, and much, much more. So what's the problem with finding out what they need to do with your beautiful body to make you cum so hard that the stars will appear in front of your eyes?

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who change to feel you fully. They whisper to each other how wonderful you taste, how wonderful you smell, how hard you squeeze on their fingers or tongue. They say you're a nice, sweet girl who does a great job with everything they give her. They murmur that one day they will make you their own, and you will bathe in love, pleasure and tenderness every day. These words aren't exactly meant for you, but you still get confused and try to hide from them. The sorcerers don't notice it at all, because they're too busy looking at the clear liquid that's all over your thighs.

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who are ready to go completely naked to fight and find out who will take your virginity. You have to stop them and tell them that it will be Suguru, because Satoru is literally shaking with anticipation and you are afraid that he will accidentally hurt you. And while Satoru tries to convince you that he will be gentle and careful with you, Suguru unpacks a fresh pack of condoms.

Best friend!Geto, who intertwines his fingers with your right hand, with the other he holds your left thigh, his cock is about to enter you. Suguru feels his heart beating fast somewhere at the level of his temples, he can't catch his breath, his heart is about to stop from happiness. He carefully moves his hips forward and watches in horror as you grimace. He wants to come out and apologize to you, but calms down and continues to push when you say that you are just a little unpleasant and unusual, but definitely not in pain.

Best friend!Gojo, who lies next to your side and holds your other hand, watching enviously as his friend's cock disappears into the place he's been dreaming of for months. However, Satoru can't complain because he's too busy massaging your clit with his left hand and whispering in your ear that everything will be fine. He showers you with sweet compliments and tells you that soon you will feel so much pleasure that you will forget about the pain. You've already cum as many times as you've never cum in a single week of your life, so you're not sure whether to be happy or tense.

Best friend!Geto, who freezes as soon as his cock is fully inside you. He leans down and covers your cheeks with kisses, gently wipes away the traces of tears (left over and just appeared), asks if you are feeling well. He kisses you as many times as he can before you tell him, during a brief pause, that he can move.

Best friend!Gojo, who watches all this with envy, but doesn't interfere. He refuses when you offer to touch his penis. He wants so much to be inside you, to experience warmth and comfort! Satoru continues to touch your clit, hold your hand, but now his mouth has found its home on your left breast.

Best friend!Geto, who is very embarrassed when he suddenly cums. It seems to him that he did not give you any pleasure at all! His hands tighten on your hip and press your hand into the mattress. Suguru opens his mouth and can only groan loudly, feeling waves of pleasure wash over him. He lands gently on your chest and exhales loudly, his cheeks and neck red, and his eyes can't see anything because of happy tears.

Best friend!Gojo, who gently pushes Suguru in the side because it's his turn. He puts on a condom and enters you easier and easier, there is no stiffness and an invisible barrier in the form of your uncertainty or discomfort. Satoru curses it and adores it at the same time. He can move his hips faster, push you harder and harder, but the problem is that he was rubbing against your side, watching Suguru fuck you, so now he can cum even faster than his friend!

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who lie down next to your sweaty, overexcited body and whisper that you did a great job. You want to go to sleep, but suddenly you feel their cocks getting hard again. You still offer to "lend a helping hand", but your friends refuse. They come up and tell you that they haven't satisfied you enough, so they'll have sex with you over and over and over again until they think you've had enough fun and cum enough times! After all, they are the strongest, so nothing is impossible for them!

Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who kiss you with all the tenderness and love that they have been hiding all this time. You're almost asleep when they whisper in your ear how much they love you.

Boyfriends!Gojo and Geto, who would like to kneel in front of you forever and call you "goddess" if only you would show them these cute faces showing how much you enjoy their touches, praises and words of love.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #geto x reader #smut #fem!reader #gojo x fem!reader #geto x fem!reader #gojo #geto #satoru gojo #suguru geto

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say-al0e · 1 year

Text

Sleep Tight

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Jake Seresin knows he’s a good pilot. But what happens when skill and luck run out and you find your husband in the hospital for the first time. | Ft. Anon Request: “Should I stop talking?” “Please don’t. Your voice is… comforting. I’ve missed it.” + “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Warnings: Jake gets in an accident, hospitals, anxiety, questioning mortality, v knows nothing about medicine or Navy protocol, hurt/comfort, Dagger Squad is family; anything else, let me know and I’ll tag it.

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k (Look, I see a pretty blonde southern man and I blackout. It is what it is.)

Hospitals had always been a source of - understandable - anxiety.

In your experience, nothing good ever happened in hospitals. It was where you were taken as a teenager, in desperate need of stitches after a schoolyard mishap; where your mother was taken when you were only seventeen, confined to a hospital bed after a particularly nasty car accident; where your brother was taken, face and uniform stained red after a football accident nearly took his eye.

The hallways were always too bright, the harsh scent of disinfectant always too strong, and certain sections rivaled only a library in terms of quiet. Getting the scent out of your nose, out of your clothes and off your skin, seemed next to impossible and the beeping of far off machines rang in your ears long after leaving. But, as life went on, you were fortunate enough to avoid hospitals, for the most part.

There was always a chance that would change upon meeting - and falling in love with - a Navy pilot. Every mission Jake went on, every training exercise he flew was a trip to the hospital in the making but he was too good for that. Human error or natural disaster, technical failure or birdstrike, freak accident or routine incident; Jake Seresin trusted himself and his skills enough for the both of you.

Once, early on in your relationship - not long after you realized it was love that kept you coming back to him, not just an appreciation for his pretty face - Jake grinned at your obvious but unspoken worry as he prepared for a mission. “I’m damn good at what I do, sweets,” he assured you, warm hands cupping your cheeks as he searched your eyes. “The best of the best. Don’t you worry about me.”

While you valued his trust and belief in his own abilities, Jake knew you still worried simply because you loved him. He appreciated it - told you once, in the darkness of your shared bedroom not long after you moved in together - but promised he would continue to do everything in his power to make it home to you. Regardless of how good he was, your worry only ceased when he stepped foot through your front door.

Jake himself worried, you knew that, though he buried it deep beneath a layer of bravado to keep from impacting him flying. Neither of you spoke of it and, really, you wouldn’t have known had you not fallen so ridiculously in love with him. Instead, you simply smiled and shook your head fondly as he paraded around, loud and proud.

The only thing you could do was hope beyond hope that he was right. However, hope only lasts so long.

A phone call from Javy was, usually, a good thing. More often than not, it was at Jake’s expense - tattling on something your husband did or said that would earn him an eye roll and an unimpressed look, poking fun at a mistake Jake made or a faux pas he committed, or, most recently, relaying the reason Hangman continued to draw the ire of other Naval officers.

Other calls were excited, bright declarations that he’d been sent something wonderful from home. You both shared an affinity for the chicory coffee his mother sent from New Orleans and, if asked, you never hesitated to help him whip up a batch of beignets to accompany it.

But you knew the moment the phone rang that it wasn’t a call you ever wanted to receive.

For nearly a week, a nagging, anxious feeling plagued you. Jake attempted to explain it away, reminded you that the holidays had rattled your nerves and you were simply stressed by the amount of work you’d returned to. There was an ever-growing to-do list pinned to the fridge and not enough hours in the day so you agreed, brushed it off and redirected your thoughts any time they veered into dimly lit territory, but it didn’t help much. And though Jake was destined to spend his first real week as a Top Gun instructor in a classroom, you made yourself feel just a little better by urging him to be careful, anyway.

That anxiety proved necessary when, instead of returning your greeting, Javy quietly informed you, “Jake’s in the hospital. I’ll meet you out front.”

As the words registered, the world seemed to fade around you. Whatever else he said - if anything at all - dissolved into a high-pitched ringing, lost to the ether, as “Jake’s in the hospital,” played on a loop.

For a long moment, you stood frozen. It felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head, chilling you to the bone as every horrible scenario you’d ever imagined and quickly brushed away suddenly became a reality. Dread filled the pit of your stomach as a weight settled on your chest, compressing until you feared your lungs might give, and your hands shook as you reached for you keys.

Try as you might to tell yourself that whatever landed Jake in the hospital likely wasn’t as serious as you were fearing, you knew that wasn’t the case. If it was simple - a few stitches, maybe an x-ray, possibly even another concussion - there was a good chance you wouldn’t have been notified until someone (likely Javy) drove him home.

With those thoughts plaguing you, everything between Javy’s phone call and your arrival at the hospital melded into a blur of trees and afternoon sun.

The hospital itself wasn’t that far from your new home, thankfully, but it was a miracle you made it in tact as the only thing on your mind was Jake. Javy himself likely didn’t know much and likely wasn’t supposed to be the one to call, however, you were grateful he had. Knowing that he was waiting for you, just as concerned about your husband, made the thought of stepping foot into the hospital just a little more tolerable.

True to his word, Javy waited near the entrance when you arrived. Seeing him stood there, worry crystal clear - obvious in the way he blinked just a little too fast, stood with slumped shoulders and furrowed brows as he folded his arms across his chest and tapped usually still fingers against his bicep - and only seeming to worsen as you rushed across the parking lot to meet him made catching your breath that much harder.

Seeing how shaken Javy was - usually so light and strong - made you feel as if you’d just run a marathon. Every step felt like a monumental task, each more difficult than the last, and your heart thumped so loud you worried everyone could hear. Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes, clumped in your throat and threatened to choke you, but you refused to break down when you still weren’t sure what you were walking in to.

“They won’t tell us anything yet,” he explained, forgoing any niceties as he ushered you inside. His voice was rough, quiet and solemn as he steered you down a long hallway, and you could feel the bile creeping up the back of your throat as he spared you a sidelong glance.

No one bothered to question you with Javy at your side. With his jaw set and shoulders squared, determined to keep himself composed (at least in part for your sake), you were thankful for his presence as he guided you through the brightly lit halls. In that moment, you were half-certain you would still be frozen in the middle of your kitchen had he not promised to be waiting, especially as he pushed open the door to the intensive care unit.

The weight pressing on your chest returned full force, heavier than before, as you realized where you were heading. Remaining upright took a concerted effort and, though he kept his distance, you could see Javy tense by your side, just in case.

Before you, a group of pilots - still dressed in flight suits, in various states of dishevelment after a day of work - crowded a doctor who looked more exasperated than anything. They filled the waiting room that was, mercifully, otherwise empty and you were unsurprised to see them. Though he hadn’t been back at Top Gun very long, Jake had finally found himself amongst friends and, like you, they all wanted answers.

Still, the doctor seemed reluctant to give them anything more than a stern look.

“Look,” he began, tone firm but not unkind, “I’m sorry. I understand your frustration but I cannot release any information at this time. Lieutenant Seresin’s commander or family can share information about his condition if they so choose.” It was as if he’d already repeated those exact words a thousand times over - which, based on all Jake had told you about the group, you assumed he had.

Jake could be personable when he chose, friendly and bright, but he’d never been the type to make friends easily in his line of work - especially with those he saw as competition, once upon a time. Since returning to Top Gun, however, the group of pilots had become something of a second family and you were grateful he’d managed to find a sense of belonging. It was clear that they cared about him deeply, despite their rocky start, and that made catching your breath just a little easier.

Though the tension grew more palpable the closer you stepped, there was no hesitation as you rounded the group to approach the doctor. None of them paid you any mind until you cleared your throat. “I’m his wife,” you announced, voice cutting through the aggravated chatter of the pilots as they continued to demand an answer.

In a split second, the group fell silent. Every set of eyes fell to you, all but two widening at your declaration, as Javy nudged a pair of pilots to the side to give you space. Their gazes burned into your skin, warmed your cheeks and would’ve been enough to send you stumbling under any other circumstances, but you paid them no mind.

With a shaking hand, you reached forward and introduced yourself to the doctor. From the corner of your eye, you could see the confusion written across every face as the group shared glances while the doctor scanned the file in his hand. You knew what was running through their minds but the questions could wait as you willed the doctor to speak.

“Mrs. Seresin,” he finally greeted, taking the hand you offered with a terse nod. “If you’ll come with me, I can give you an update on your husband’s condition.”

Javy remained close, gaze trained solely on you as you shook your head and folded your arms over your chest. “I’m just going to repeat everything you tell me,” you informed him, willing your voice not to shake. “Might as well say it here, that way I don’t leave anything out.”

Though it was clear he wasn’t pleased with your answer, the doctor nodded once more and began to explain Jake’s condition.

Most of the terminology went over your head, entered one ear and flew out the other, but you dutifully nodded along as he explained the steps they’d already taken to counteract the injuries he’d sustained. Javy hadn’t elaborated on what happened - and you weren’t sure you wanted to know - but the severity was made clear as you pieced together what little you could understand.

The doctor made it clear that Jake was lucky - he would claim skilled - to have made it and you could feel your knees growing weak as he explained that Jake was still in triage. The sting of your nails pressing into your forearm kept you tethered to the moment and inhaled slowly through your nose to keep your breathing even as he concluded.

“We’re going to keep Lieutenant Seresin sedated for now, until the swelling on his brain begins to go down, and then allow him to wake on his own. When he’s transferred to a room, you’ll be allowed to visit. Until then, you can wait out here,” he offered, gesturing to the empty lobby. “You’ll be notified the moment you can see him.”

With that, the doctor offered one more terse nod before turning to disappear through a door marked ‘staff only.’

For a long moment, the waiting room remained silent. There was a sharp ringing in your ears, drowning out the all too heavy thump of your heart, and you wondered if your breathing sounded as ragged as it felt. In the back of your mind, you were aware of the attention on you - the sets of eyes studying you for answers to a question no one knew existed - but the only set of eyes that you could meet belonged to Javy.

“You okay?”

The answer was no - he knew that, and wasn’t either, judging by the set of his jaw and the glassy sheen to his eyes - but neither of you were willing to admit it aloud. He was a solider, strong and tough, and you refused to play the part of weeping partner when you needed to believe that Jake would be alright. Strength mattered in that moment, composure in the face of tragedy, so you nodded.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, voice quiet but stronger than you hoped it would be. It was clear he didn’t believe you - no one would - but he didn’t question it. Instead, he returned your nod with one of his own and waited as you turned your attention to the group of pilots staring with uncertain frowns.

Javy took the initiative to introduce you, though it did little to answer the question on the tip of every tongue. Neither of you elaborated beyond your name and relationship with Jake and you could see that there were at least a dozen questions each of them wanted to ask. There was a quiet confusion, a bewilderment that would’ve made you laugh under different circumstances, even as they all politely agreed that it was nice to meet you.

If all had gone according to plan, Jake would’ve made the introduction himself and you would’ve smiled at their bewilderment as you stood with a strong arm tossed around your shoulders. There would’ve been an amused declaration that you hadn’t intended to keep your marriage a secret, an explanation that their friendship hadn’t existed when you wed and no one had questioned his relationship status since he returned.

Work had kept you in Lemoore a little longer than Jake, as had dealing with the last of the paperwork necessary to sell your home, and you’d jumped headfirst into a new position that kept you busier than you would’ve liked the moment you arrived in San Diego. You’d planned to visit the Hard Deck, join the fun and meet his friends, there just hadn’t been time.

Regret, bitter and biting, lingered in the back of your throat the moment you considered time. There were so many things you’d intended to do, so many plans you’d made with Jake, that had been delayed by the excuse of never having enough time. You were both focused on your respective careers - Jake, determined to make it to admiral someday; you, eager to follow your dreams - and never stopped to consider what might happen when time eventually ran out altogether.

Though Jake faced death relatively often - more often than the average person, certainly - the thought never really crossed your mind. Losing him was a fear that lingered, buried deep lest it immobilize you each time he set out for a flight, but it never felt like something that could become reality. Jake himself instilled that belief in you, urged you not to worry despite the circumstances he faced daily, and you’d clung tight to it.

Jake was too lucky, too confident, too good to die.

There’d always been all the time in the world, another day just around the corner, and the reality of the situation felt like a slap to the face as it suddenly dawned on you. There might never be another moment, might never be another day. All the plans you’d put off, all the plans you made; suddenly, there was a chance they would never come to fruition.

As the realization sank in, you could feel your knees growing weaker. The edges of your vision began to white and the bile crept higher and higher in your throat. Breathing was a chore, more and more difficult with every second that passed, and you were only vaguely aware of the hand at your elbow tugging you in the direction of uncomfortable wooden chairs.

Time passed slowly the moment you sat, crept by in a muddled mess of ticking clocks and faraway voices. The other pilots remained for a while, all scattered around the room and talking softly amongst themselves, but Javy remained at your side long after they’d gone.

The waiting room itself remained empty, devoid of others sharing your nauseating worry, and you couldn’t decide if you appreciated the quiet or not.

For the most part, Javy remained quiet but steadfast in his observation of you. Every so often, he stood and returned with bottles of water and nearly stale packets of Oreos from the vending machine down the hall that neither of you ate but he figured might come in handy. It was only a matter of time before he was forced to leave, you knew that, but you held tight to the comfort his presence brought as you struggled to keep your thoughts from wandering.

There was no use dwelling on the past. Nothing good would come of regret, of thinking of the time you’d wasted holding off on taking this trip or going on that date, so you forced yourself to think of the future. Jake was lucky, he was good, he would make it and there would be time to atone for the sins of the past.

Still, even the most optimistic thoughts were plagued with the whisper of ‘what-if’ that now lingered all too prominently in the back of every thought.

Eventually, after nearly three hours of anxiety-inducing, nauseating waiting, Jake was settled into a room. When a nurse retrieved you, she informed you that visiting hours would start soon and that Javy wouldn’t be allowed in until they did. You, however, were given a few moments alone with Jake.

Wandering down the hall behind her, close but far enough to keep her from hearing your ragged breathing, nearly sent you into an anxiety attack. Jake would be sedated, that much you knew, but everything else remained a mystery. Would there be bruising? Had he needed stitches? Would you even be able to recognize him?

Each question hurt more than the last and, when the nurse stopped in front of Jake’s room, you could tell she wasn’t surprised by your hesitation. “We’re optimistic,” she shared, voice a mere whisper in the quiet of the hall. “Lieutenant Seresin is a fighter.”

There was no doubt that Jake would do all he could to pull through - she was right, he was a fighter - but her soft encouragement did little to calm the churning of your stomach, even as you nodded. There would be no calm until he woke, a fact she likely knew as well as you did, so you swallowed your fear and stepped into his room.

Seeing your husband, usually so bright and boisterous with a seemingly permanent grin etched across his face, lying lifeless in a hospital bed was devastating. He looked frail, pale and bruised, and the tears you’d been narrowly keeping at bay began to fall as you took in the sight of him.

A gash, held together by stitches, ran from temple to forehead. A bruise, still fresh, was beginning to blossom along his jawline. The beginnings of a black eye were noticeable, as was a busted lip, and a handful of other scrapes and bruises along his neck and arms. The doctor mentioned a cracked rib and the need to monitor for internal bleeding and you lifted a hand to cover your mouth in an effort to muffle your sobs.

For nearly an hour, you sat in the small chair at Jake’s side and allowed yourself to feel the hurricane of emotions raging in your mind. Fear, regret, anxiety, anger, sorrow; each one was more powerful than the last and each one hurt worse. There was no estimate of when Jake would wake - if he woke at all - but you did your best not to dwell.

Jake was strong, he would make it. And maybe if you repeated that enough times, it would be true.

The only thing that kept you from losing yourself completely to worry was the arrival of visitors.

Javy was, of course, the first to arrive.

Though you offered to give him a moment alone, he refused. He insisted you remain in the seat you’d made your own and, instead, offered you the duffle bag he’d retrieved from your home. Anything you could’ve needed - or wanted - was placed neatly inside.

Pajamas - both yours and Jake’s, pieces of his he knew either of you would love - and a small bag of toiletries, the cell phone you’d dropped the moment Javy ended the call and forgot about, a few personal items; the sight of it all made your eyes sting with another wave of tears and Javy accepted the grateful squeeze of your hand with a nod.

For a few moments, the pair of you sat in silence. Like you, Javy seemed unable to look at Jake for too long without getting overwhelmed and you imagined the rest of the squad would likely endure the same difficulty. He was the first - as far as you knew - to experience such a serious accident and, though you wished like hell it hadn’t been him, you hoped no one else would follow.

Somewhere amidst the beeping of the heart monitor, the far-off hum of voices, Javy turned to you. “I promised him if anything happened, I’d be there for you,” he confessed, voice rough with emotion. His eyes, like yours, were swollen and rimmed red. The promise was likely one he’d made when deployed, uttered in the heat of battle, but you could tell he’d taken it seriously as he spared Jake a glance. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

There wasn’t much you could say that could adequately convey your gratitude - both at him treating you like family and him loving Jake like a brother - so you squeezed his hand once more. In that moment, in that circumstance, that was enough.

Later, when Javy needed to return to Top Gun for a debriefing, Fanboy arrived and replaced him in the seat to your left.

Mickey - you’d come to learn his name the moment he sat down, uttered in an outburst of nervous energy that saw Javy shaking his head upon exiting the room - offered you a smile. He seemed to have no idea what to say, at a loss for words as he spared glances at Jake and blinked back a frown of worry, and you imagined silence wasn’t as comfortable for him as it had been for you. There was a chance he didn’t want to offend you, unsure of what was appropriate to discuss with the wife of a friend he hadn’t known existed in the midst of said friend’s hospital room, so you broke the silence for him.

“Where’d Fanboy come from?”

Callsigns always intrigued you - the story behind Jake’s was the first question you asked, though you hadn’t gotten the real story until much later on. The silence didn’t bother you but Mickey seemed grateful for the question, if a little surprised, and shot you a smile that managed to touch his eyes.

“I love nerd shit,” he explained with a quiet laugh. “Star Wars, Star Trek, comic books, superheroes; all of it. I became a pilot because of Han Solo,” he admitted, expression brightening when you smiled at him. “I can get a little… into it when I talk about it, so, fanboy,” he explained, only a little sheepish.

“I love Star Trek. And Star Wars, but Star Trek has my heart.”

The confession was met with wide eyes and parted lips, though there was a hint of delight beneath the winged eyebrows. Mickey spared Jake a glance, blinked hard at the reminder of why you were there, before he returned his attention to you.

“Hangman’s married to a Trekkie? No way.” Mickey paused, as if considering all he knew about Jake - which was, from your understanding, a little less than the rest of the squad - before a look of understanding lit his eyes. “His nerd jokes were always a little too detailed for him not to know anything about Star Trek,” he declared, head tilting as he met your eyes.

For a moment, the room felt nearly normal. It was a conversation you could picture having with him at the Hard Deck, laughing over a few drinks as Jake played a round of pool and rolled his eyes fondly with every secret you spilled, and you willed yourself to keep from glancing at him as you nodded.

“If you tell him I told you this, it’ll be the last thing you do,” you warned, tone clearly teasing as you tilted your head to meet Mickey’s eyes, “but back when we first started seeing each other, when we were just friends with benefits, he made fun of me for being a Trekkie. He thought it was hilarious and so embarrassing that I was a nerd. It was the only thing he ever truly teased me for.”

A brief pause interrupted your story, a moment in which you finally spared Jake a glance and took a steadying breath. The memory of Jake’s teasing was one you loved, especially as it indirectly lead to the true beginning of your relationship, and it helped to distract yourself with stories of the past. The smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth was a little more real, a little easier, as you continued.

“One night, though, he was having a really hard time. Javy got deployed and his dad was really sick. We’d only been seeing each other for a few months and it was still a casual thing so he tried playing it all off. I could tell he wasn’t himself, though. He wasn’t interested in sex but he didn’t want to be alone so I told him we could just hang out. I was watching Star Trek in chronological order, starting with Enterprise, and was only on the first season. He made fun of it at first, called it cheesy and weird, but he got so into it. He asked me a thousand questions, mostly about why the Klingons hated everyone and why the Vulcans were so disliked when they were right about pretty much everything. But every night for two weeks, until he got deployed himself, we watched Star Trek together. And when he got home, he came back to me and we picked up where we left off. It went from him coming over for sex and leaving immediately after to him coming over for dinner and a few episodes of Star Trek. It just kind of became our thing and he’ll deny it until he’s blue in the face to anyone but me but Jake Seresin has a soft spot for Star Trek.”

Mickey’s eyes grew brighter with every word, clearly surprised but pleasantly so. The wonder with which he glanced between you and Jake lifted a fraction of the weight on your chest and brought a small smile to your own lips as you recognized the look in his eyes. It was awe, something a little too hopeful for the setting you found yourselves in, and you were suddenly grateful for Mickey’s bright-eyed enthusiasm.

“The first Halloween we spent as a couple, we were the mirror versions of Trip and T’Pol,” you confessed, grinning when he gaped at you. “Jake only agreed because he could lie and say he was a pilot who’d been in an accident, because of the jumpsuit. I think I was the only one who really knew who he was but it was nice.”

“Do you have pictures and can I see them?”

Though you hadn’t known what to expect, stuck in a hospital room with a friend of your husbands that you’d never met, you were grateful for Mickey’s presence. There were parts of Jake you knew he wouldn’t want shared with his teammates - not yet, anyway - and you kept those tucked close to your heart. Other pieces of your shared life, however, were laid bare with every enthusiastic question Mickey asked.

For nearly an hour, you sifted through photos documenting your relationship with Jake - from the first picture you took, pressed close together in the dim light of a dive bar near a naval base, to photos from your wedding day, to a selfie taken on the beach only a few days prior. Though, somewhere along the way, Mickey’s questions shifted from reminiscing on the past to planning for the future without you even realizing.

When he left, after a great deal of chatter and even a little laughter, the weight on your chest felt lighter. Jake’s condition hadn’t changed miraculously over the course of your conversation but Mickey managed to steer you away from the dark clouds and back into the sunshine. When he left, you felt a little hope, a little peace, and could breathe a little easier as you reached for Jake’s hand.

Before the levity of Mickey’s visit could wear off, a third visitor stepped through the door of Jake’s room.

From the moment Phoenix entered the room, it was clear that she felt out of place. She and Jake weren’t the closest and would likely never be the best of friends. There was no real animosity, not anymore, but their personalities clashed more often than not. He was something of an annoying older brother, a pain in the ass that refused to disappear, and he knew it.

Because of his unapologetic Hangman tendencies, Jake once admitted he wasn’t sure Natasha would ever truly like him, despite how much he’d grown to respect and admire her. However, despite knowing that she was the one person who continually called him on his shit, it seemed that his fears were unfounded.

A soft frown curved her mouth and pinched her brows as she settled into the seat at your left. With every second she spent glancing at Jake, her concern grew clearer. It seemed new, as if it had taken her by surprise, but you’d expected it. Though Jake doubted his place in her heart, you had little doubt that she cared about him as much as he cared about her.

Of all the aviators - aside from Javy - Natasha was the only one you’d met prior to moving to San Diego. It was in passing, in the presence of a friend of a friend of a friend, and long before you married Jake. There’d been small talk, brief chatter that neither of you could remember, but you could see the dim recognition on her face as she finally turned to face you.

“I’ll be honest,” she began, voice soft after a few long moments of silence. “I really don’t know what to say.”

It was apologetic but you understood. If you were in her shoes, you likely wouldn’t know what to say, either.

Their relationship wasn’t built around feelings, had never been fuzzy and warm and truly friendly. Jake was cocky, a little too loud and brash and full of himself, and she reminded him of those facts every chance she got. Their friendship was witty quips and sharp remarks, rolled eyes and huffs of annoyance.

Soft declarations of hope were out of character, as were heartwarming - and, no doubt, embellished - stories of his contributions to the team. That was of no surprise to you, little about your husband surprised you, so you shrugged and offered her a half-smile.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

The declaration wasn’t unkind, simply an acknowledgement that you expected nothing from her, and Natasha seemed to understand. Though her pinched brows remained, frown still darkening her face, she nodded and allowed her gaze to return to Jake.

Though you were thankful for Mickey’s spirit, you found yourself grateful for Natasha’s quiet. The adrenaline that pushed you out of your house and to the hospital had long since worn off. The tears you’d shed left your eyes in a state of discomfort and you could feel a migraine beginning to form. Everything felt heavy, like the weight of the world resting on your shoulders, and holding a conversation felt too much like work in that moment.

It was clear that she worried for Jake, that she’d begun questioning her own mortality, and it hurt to know that Jake was the catalyst for such difficult soul-searching. As you gently traced the back of Jake’s hand, fingers a featherlight touch over his bruised skin, you wondered how long it would take for the squad to return to some semblance of normal, regardless of the outcome of Jake’s accident.

Natasha, however, didn’t leave you long to dwell. Instead, she tipped her head to truly look at you for the first time since stepping into the room.

“Hang- Jake,” she corrected herself, blinking just a little too fast. You knew the look well, had worn it a handful of times yourself, and smiled softly as she spared him a fleeting glance. “Jake is the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.” When you laughed, head tilting in quiet agreement, Natasha’s frown lifted into the smallest of smiles. “He’ll be okay,” she assured you.

There was a finality to her statement that told you she clearly believed it. Though their relationship seemed to be the roughest around the edges, Natasha’s certainty calmed your heart. If she believed he would be alright, if Mickey believed he would be alright, if Javy believed he would be alright, you were going to have to believe it, too.

“Yeah.” There was little you could say in response - even less that wouldn’t leave you in tears - so you nodded and traced the faint tan line at Jake’s ring finger. “Thanks for coming. I know he’d appreciate it.”

Natasha left shortly after, eyes a little glassier than you’d expected and shoulders slumped in a way that made your chest ache. However, you weren’t given time to dwell on the effect Jake’s accident might have on the squad - on Natasha and on their relationship moving forward - as another visitor stepped through the door.

Unlike the others, Bob lingered near the foot of Jake’s bed. He stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, taking in the sight of Jake with a deep frown darkening his face. Of the visitors, Bob seemed to be the most upset, and you found yourself surprised as he pulled in a shuddering breath.

“Can I ask a question?”

Bob’s voice was soft, timid, and though he had yet to spare you a glance, you smiled as you twined your fingers with Jake’s. “Sure,” you permitted, though you were quick to add, “but I’m not promising an answer.”

The frown he wore deepened into something nearing hurt, an anguish you weren’t expecting from someone who never seemed particularly close with your husband - someone who, like Natasha, Jake feared may never really like him - as he finally lifted his gaze to you.

“How come we didn’t know Hangman was married? I was stationed at Lemoore, too, and I never knew.”

That was the question you’d been waiting for, unasked but lingering on the tip of every tongue. You were surprised no one else had asked - Mickey, in particular - but it seemed as if the answer truly mattered to Bob. There was genuine hurt in his eyes and you felt your heart clench at the furrow of his brows.

There were no memories of him from Lemoore - he wasn’t someone you remembered seeing out at a bar, not someone you remembered having over for dinner - but he clearly remembered Jake.

“It wasn’t intentional,” you consoled him, voice just as soft as his had been as he slowly stepped closer. “Jake’s never really been one to make friends. Javy knew because he and Jake have been through a lot together but you guys are the first real friends he’s made since Javy. He was planning on bringing me to the Hard Deck to meet you all but I’ve been so busy with my new job and unpacking the house that the time was just never right.” A huff of laughter, devoid of any humor, escaped as you cast a sideways glance at Jake’s face. “That sounds really stupid now but it all felt so important at the time, you know?”

Bob made a noise of understanding, one that confirmed he understood the pang of regret you felt each time you truly looked at Jake, as he finally took the seat to your left. “Hindsight,” he mumbled, corner of his mouth kicking up in a rueful smile as he folded his hands across his lap. “We met a few times, me and Hangman,” he admitted, gaze dropping to his lap. “He didn’t remember me but most people don’t. He was nice to my grandma when she came to visit. Helped her find me when she got lost.”

“He can be nice when he wants to be.” Bob hummed, a noncommittal sound that acknowledged he’d heard you, and allowed himself a glance at the way you continued to caress Jake’s hand. “Grandparents love him,” you continued, though you weren’t quite sure why. “I’m my grandmother’s favorite but he’s a close second, even though she’s got six other real grandchildren.”

A small smile lifted the corner of Bob’s mouth. “How long have you been married?”

“A little over a year. We got married a few months before he was called back to Top Gun,” you informed him, smiling as you squeezed Jake’s hand.

The wedding itself was a small affair - a handful of friends and family - on his family ranch and brought a smile to your face each time you thought of it. Before Jake, you hadn’t given marriage much thought, hadn’t really considered what your wedding might look like, but looking back, there was nothing you would change.

“It rained, near the end of the reception. I panicked for a second ‘cause it felt like bad luck, you know? But Jake just smiled and pulled me out to dance in the rain.” There was a moment of pause, a moment in which you took in the deceptively peaceful look on his face, before you turned your gaze to Bob. “I know Jake can be… a lot. But there’s good there, too. Just takes him a while to let other people see it.”

Jake was an acquired taste, that much you knew to be fact, but Bob’s understanding nod confirmed something else you knew to be true; his return to Top Gun had flipped a sort of switch. Details were fuzzy, as they always seemed to be, but Jake had grown more comfortable in the last year.

A small part of you wondered if it was love, being given affection he’d doubted himself worthy of for so long, but another part of you wondered if it was acceptance. He’d finally come to accept that not only was he worthy of romantic love, he was worthy of familial, platonic love, too. The people he’d seen as competition for so long, the people he’d pushed himself to be better, stronger, louder than weren’t out to get him. They were there to work with him, to be part of the same team, and you were glad that others had seen the change, too.

While Bob wasn’t as quiet as Natasha or as chatty as Mickey, he still managed to make you laugh with the odd deadpan remark. He asked a handful of questions about your relationship, mostly wondering how you managed to live with Jake, and answered questions you would’ve asked had you met in any other setting.

It was nice, another pleasant conversation in the midst of a dark moment, but you were grateful for the silence that followed once he left. For the first time in hours, you were left alone for longer than a few moments. There was a slight worry it would be overwhelming, give you too much time to think about the dozens of potential outcomes that awaited you, but you felt a sort of peace you hadn’t expected.

Regardless of the outcome, knowing that Jake had managed to find a family that loved him, despite his past misgivings, granted you serenity. Knowing that that same family had taken the time to embrace you, despite learning of your existence only a handful of hours before, was enough to ease the weight on your chest and make catching your breath less of a monumental task.

Jake was loved, well and truly, and you were grateful for it.

Though you imagined the night was over, the visitors would stop funneling in, a final member of the team appeared with thirty minutes to spare. Rooster stepped into the room with a brown paper bag that smelled of Chinese takeout and a coffee that looked suspiciously like your go-to order.

When his offer was met with a frown of confusion, Bradley smiled. “Coyote,” he explained, not giving you the chance to ask. “You should eat."

Hunger was the last thing on your mind. The thought of eating turned your stomach but you knew he was right. So, instead of arguing, you took the coffee with a smile. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

Bradley sat in the chair to your left and began rifling through the bag. He produced a few of your favorites - an order Javy no doubt relayed - before pulling out a carton of his own food. When you realized he was waiting for you to begin before he would, you laughed quietly.

As the pair of you ate, both slow and methodical, Bradley spared you glances every so often. Like Javy, the silence you shared was comfortable. Despite not knowing one another, there was no overwhelming, awkward need to fill the quiet with mindless chatter. Still, Bradley managed to break the silence before you could.

“I never told him,” he began, voice a quiet rasp in the still of Jake’s room, “but I figured he was seeing someone. He’s got a photo of you in the cockpit of his jet.”

That was of little surprise to you. Jake had taken a handful of polaroids throughout your relationship, each with the excuse of being able to carry you with him wherever he went, and you smiled. “Is it still the one from the beach?”

Bradley returned your smile easily as he shook his head. “No, it looks like you’re in the snow. I tried not to stare too much. Figured he would’ve said something if he wanted us all to know.”

“That was right before we got engaged. He knew I’d never seen snow so he took me to see it.” Bradley paused, placed his chopsticks onto the small tray and turned to face you as you swirled the straw of your coffee. “Is he still an asshole? Absolutely. Do I want to smack him for being an asshole? Regularly.” Bradley laughed, smile as real as you imagined it could be, and tipped his head in acknowledgement as his eyes shifted to where you squeezed Jake’s hand. “I know that it’s hard sometimes, seeing Jake beneath Hangman, but I’m glad you’re all getting a glimpse.”

“When we first got called back,” Bradley began, “I told him that he hadn’t changed. But that was a lie. We can all see that he’s changed. He’s still an asshole, but he’s more tolerable now.”

“I can’t lie and say that I’ve never seen that side of him because I have. I’ve seen Hangman. But I see Jake more often. I see the man who dances with me in the kitchen to old country music after we do the dishes. I see the man who asked me to marry him in the snow, even though he hated every second of the cold.” Bradley frowned, if only slightly, as he watched you blink back the tears that stung the backs of eyes. “Jake loves you guys. He spent so long trying to be the best, seeing you guys as competition. I’m just glad he’s learning how to be part of a team.”

Bradley hesitated for a moment, seeming to question whether he should speak, before he spared Jake a glance. “He saved my life,” he admitted quietly, eyes on Jake as he shook his head slightly. “Out of everyone, he was the last person I expected to come back for me. But he did.”

The shift in their relationship had been the most obvious to you. Jake had gone from lamenting being passed over in favor of Bradley Bradshaw to laughing at his antics in the span of a few weeks, and you wondered what happened. To know that your husband, who felt overshadowed by Bradley for years, had gone out of his way to save him brought you comfort rather than instilling fear.

“He doesn’t talk a lot about deployment,” you confessed, shrugging slightly when he turned his attention back to you, “so I appreciate you telling me that. I’ve spent the last few years kind of terrified, just waiting for a call like this, but now that it’s here, I don’t really know what to do.”

“There’s not much you can do other than be here.” When you frowned, gaze falling to the cup in your hands, Bradley sighed. “I can’t tell you it’ll be okay because I don’t know that. But I can tell you that he’s good at what he does and he’s stubborn. Knowing he has you here, waiting for him, he’s going to fight like hell to stay with you.”

Bradley sounded just as confident as Natasha had, convinced that Jake would be fine, and you were grateful for his assurance. It filled your chest with a little hope, though you were careful not to allow it to inflate too much as hope was the thing that killed.

Instead, you attempted to keep some semblance of the peace the Squad’s visits brought, even as Bradley bid you goodnight. You knew that there was no chance of sleep finding you, even as tired as you found yourself, so you shuffled through the bag Javy bought and smiled when you came across the book he’d plucked from your nightstand.

It was a book you’d taken to reading when you couldn’t sleep, one you’d already read at least a dozen times, but it helped remove you from reality as you flipped it open and settled deeper into your seat. The nagging anxiety, the worry that Jake may not awake, lingered prominently in the pit of your stomach - made the tips of your fingers tingle and the intake of a deep breath seem next to impossible - but you attempted to swallow it as you removed the bookmark and began to read aloud.

Jake was never overly fond of the books you read - he preferred nonfiction, biographies or deep dives into historic events - but you’d found a happy medium in the form of modern classics. The Illustrated Man was one he’d gotten into and it helped that the book was comprised of short stories, split into pieces for those nights he was home and sleep seemed to evade you both.

While the hospital continued to move around you, while the machines Jake remained tethered to beeped and blinked, you began to read aloud. A story of explorers, searching for a force greater than themselves, followed by the tale of men driven to madness by eternal rain filled the relative quiet of the hospital room before you paused at the title page of The Rocket Man.

The story of a man who left his family for months at a time, off in a spaceship exploring the galaxy, was not one you gave much thought before falling in love with Jake. But the story of a young boy who desperately missed his father and a wife who once loved her husband greatly having resigned herself to knowing that one day her husband would walk out their door for the final time weighed a little too heavy on your chest these days.

There was no future in which you could see yourself growing numb, resigned to a fate you desperately wished to avoid, and you hoped beyond hope that Jake would continue returning to you. The pair of you hadn’t discussed a family, a future beyond loving one another, but you knew that Jake Seresin was it for you and that you were it for him.

So, instead of allowing yourself to fall deeper into the anxiety you’ve barely kept at bay, you flipped through the pages in search of a different story.

As you thumbed through the book, however, a quiet sigh drew your attention. The book was quickly abandoned as you lifted your head to glance at Jake. Those green eyes, a sight you marveled at even on the best of days, met yours and you nearly pinched yourself as you blinked back the tears stinging at the backs of your eyes.

In that moment, every emotion possible filled you. Breathing simultaneously grew easier and more difficult as the weight on your chest shifted. The tingling in the tips of your fingers eased, if only slightly, as you struggled to latch onto one particular train of thought.

Before you could speak - and say what, you weren’t sure - Jake beat you to it. “Why’d you stop reading?”

The question was so mundane, spoken as if he’d simply woken from a nap to find you pausing din the midst of a story, but the gravel of his voice and the injuries marring his face reminded you of exactly what happened. The story was one you made it a habit to skip, especially with Jake around, so you simply shrugged.

“I… the next one isn’t my favorite,” you nearly whispered, gaze never leaving his face as you dropped the book into the chair and reached for his hand. “I’ll keep reading after someone comes and looks you over, alright?”

Jake hummed, a noncommittal sound, as he tilted his head to offer you a lazy smile. “Good. Missed your voice, sweetheart.”

Though he didn’t mean for it to, Jake’s comment broke the dam that had kept the tears at bay since the aviators left you alone. Relief, so bright and warm, filled your veins even as Jake squeezed your hand and frowned at the sight of your tears. But before he could speak, you shook your head.

“I’m going to go grab a nurse. I’ll be right back,” you promised, squeezing his hand in return before untangling your fingers and rushing out of the room on jelly legs.

As the nurse, followed by a doctor, stepped into Jake’s room, you remained in the hall. With your back pressed to the wall, you scrubbed at your eyes to stop the tears from falling. You made it a point to keep your composure, especially in front of Jake as it related to his work, and did your best to settle yourself. However, the weight of the day, combined with the lack of sleep, made it difficult to pull yourself together.

Jake was lucky, you didn’t need a doctor to tell you that - though he made sure to point it out the moment he stepped back into the hall - and you knew that the day could’ve ended in tragedy. This was the closest you’d come to losing Jake and you had no desire to ever relive this day.

But this was his life, the path he’d chosen and a path you knew he would continue down the moment he was cleared to fly once more, so you swallowed your fear and thanked the doctor for letting you know that they’d be keeping Jake for a little while longer, just to observe.

After a few moments, when the nurse finally left the room, you stepped in and returned to your seat at Jake’s side.

For the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure what to say to Jake. The silence felt awkward, painful in a way it had never really been, as you took a moment to study the injuries Jake had sustained.

“Doc assured me there are ways to get rid of scars. Just gonna have to deal with me lookin’ like Two Face for a while.” The joke was weak, unable to hide the anxiety he clearly felt, and you frowned as you lifted a hand to gently brush the uninjured cheek. When you found yourself unable to speak, voice stuck in your throat even as you so desperately wanted to say something, Jake sighed. “Want me to stop talking?”

“Never.” The reply was quick, stronger than you intended, but it made Jake laugh quietly - and then wince - as your hand returned to his. “Please don’t. Your voice is comforting. I’ve missed it.”

Jake sighed once more, a quiet sound as he attempted to shift in bed, and turned his head to a more comfortable position. “I’m sorry for scaring you, sweetheart.”

The apology was soft, a whisper in the still of the room, and you shook your head to keep him from speaking further. “You’re awake,” you dismissed, “apology accepted.”

Sensing your desire to change the subject - you weren’t ready to talk about the accident and you were assuming he wasn’t either - Jake hummed. “Anything exciting happen while I was out?”

“I met some of the Dagger Squad.” Jake smiled - the barely there lifting of his lips - as you idly brushed your fingers over the back of his hand. “Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Rooster; they all dropped by. Javy said the others planned to come tomorrow but hopefully they can all visit at home, instead.”

“Anybody get a picture when they figured out who you were?”

“No, but they all looked a little like fish out of water.” Jake laughed quietly at that - a sound that seemed to pain him as the hand you weren’t holding lifted to his ribs. “I spilled some of your deepest, darkest secrets while you were out.”

“Mm, only fair,” he decided, hand turning to hold yours still as he waited for you to meet his eyes once more. “Know you don’t wanna talk about it right now but I’m glad you’re here, darlin’. You were the last thing I -“ Jake cut himself off, quickly realizing that line of thought was not one you needed to hear in that moment, so he corrected himself. “You’re always on my mind. Just wanted to make sure you know that.”

Jake made sure you knew that - often made it a point to remind you that he was thinking of you, whether it came in the form of flowers or a quick text - so you nodded. “I know.”

“Good.” Jake took a moment to really take you in, then, eyes roving your face for the first time, before he sighed and squeezed your hand. “You should go home, get some rest. I’ll still be here in the morning.” When you raised a brow, clearly unimpressed with his idea, he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You leave when I leave. Fine, at least try to get some sleep. I’m the one in the hospital bed but you look like hell, sweetheart.”

“If you didn’t have a head injury, I’d be really offended,” you huffed, though the joke came out a little weaker than you intended.

“How long you think the squad’ll let me get away with shit before they start calling me out again?”

The laughter was still light, brittle, and accompanied by a wince but Jake seemed to truly be in better spirits than you expected. You knew that it was for your benefit - the real damage would be uncovered later, when you were both in a headspace to discuss what happened, how he really felt - but you still laughed as you shook your head.

“Not even for a second. You’re lucky, babe, but not that lucky.”

Jake smiled, happy that his joke worked at least for the moment, and gestured to the small couch in the corner. “Still gonna push my luck, sweetheart. Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, promise.”

Though you had no desire to lose another moment with Jake, the need for sleep was overwhelming. You could feel the adrenaline of the day wearing off, the worry and anxiety calming just enough to leave you exhausted, so you sighed and slumped in your seat. “Fine, but only because you’re cute.”

Everything that awaited you both remained to be seen. The conversations you needed to have, what the future would hold, could wait. You were granted tomorrow with Jake, the only thing you could’ve asked for, and figured that would be enough for now. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you allowed yourself to rest with the knowledge that when you woke, he’d be there.

______________________________________

Author’s Note: If the tags don’t work, I will scream.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @xlynnx07, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @prettymucheveryothernamewastaken, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name, @ccristata, @feltonswifesworld87, @mxdi0, @angellwingggs, @s00buwu, @mjsvinyl, @woodlandmouth, @hngmnslver, @wifey-halstead, @pr3ttyr0s3xs, @winchester126, @peoniarose

#hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #top gun one shot #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick x reader #v’s fics

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alexawynters · 3 months

Text

Scarlet Whispers pt. 9

A/N: Apparently I wrote two chapters of smut back to back so uhhh.. here's a second chapter of terribly written smut. Anyway sorry for the delay in posting schedule for like.. two weeks. I don't have much of an excuse, as most of this was already written in advance, just briefly editing before posting. But I moved recently, and there was some roommate drama with moving out, and just in general moving bullshit. Plus my last job was refusing to cooperate with my ADA (despite the fact that doing so landed me in the hospital for a fucking week...) so I fortunately was able to land a new job that's hybrid. However I did just start it so like.. super busy with training and getting settled in to the new place. Plus trying to make sure I dedicate time to my gf since we're on different continents so like.. timezones are a bitch lol.

Gif not mine, as always

Trigger Warnings: Smuttttttt. Horribly written smut.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Masterlist with parts 1-8 here

The next few days were absolute bliss for you. You were certain of your feelings for the former Avenger and knew that she felt the same way about you. This newfound confidence allowed you to freely express your affection. While you had been somewhat clingy in the past, you had never been this openly affectionate before with anyone, always afraid it would be used against you somehow.

As usual Wanda would cook for both of you, and with your desire to be closer to her at the forefront of your mind, you would inevitably find a way to snuggle into her arms, even if it wasn’t per se the most convenient. Wanda had already reassured you she didn’t mind, always welcoming any chance to be close to you. Now was one such example. Letting out a sigh as she wrapped one arm around you and kissed the top of your head. While she stirred the food, you tilted your head and gazed happily at the slightly taller woman who held you.

Curious green eyes observed you thoughtfully, wondering what brought on this bout of cuddliness. Seizing the opportunity with the witch's face so close to yours, you leaned up and gave Wanda a chaste kiss on the lips before burying your blushing face in her chest. The older woman chuckled softly at how adorably shy you were and embraced you even tighter.

While eating and conversing, you found yourself insisting on maintaining physical contact with the witch. Thighs brushing against each other, and at one point you were feeling particularly bold and rested your hand on her thigh. The witch couldn't be happier about this development and even going so far as to lace her fingers with yours, bringing a contented smile to your face. At one point, Wanda could swear that you were wiggling in place while she was playing with your hair. As she subtly glanced behind you, she half expected to find a tail wagging there. It was only a mild disappointment there wasn’t.

The definition of golden retriever girlfriend, you were such a puppy, and it was adorable. It seemed like you couldn't get enough, following Wanda around the house and even the grounds whenever she got up to take care of things. Despite her reassurances that you could continue whatever activity you were engaged in, you were insistent upon helping. Every step of the way, you offered your assistance, basking in the witch’s presence and happy to be helpful. Whenever your skin happened to touch, even briefly, a pleasurable shiver would run down your spine, making whatever chore you were working on even something as mundane as gardening (a green thumb, you were not) worth it.

Not once did Wanda deter your need for affection, doing her best in fact to reward it at every opportunity. Part of it was for her own selfish reasons, she always relished in your touch. A larger part however was an attempt to heal your inner child. She recalled your painful memories she had witnessed where your attempts at garnering affection from your family were rudely and oftentimes even violently rebuffed. This caused you to believe that’s how all requests for affection would be received, leading you at a young age to stop seeking affection from anyone going forward.

Now, if you reached out to Wanda, she would return your touch reassuringly, even going so far sometimes to pull you into an embrace or press her lips to yours. The witch never wanted you to question whether she would accept your touch ever again. Anything she could do to associate positive feelings with your attempts at affection, Wanda would give. Every time she did, she was rewarded when you practically vibrated with happiness in her arms.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe and dare you say it, happy. Wanda truly was everything you could ever hope for in a partner: devoted, caring, and attentive. You weren’t sure whether it was her magic, or simply how attuned she was to you - seeming to anticipate your wants and needs almost before you yourself even realized them. It had been this way before you two had slept together, but something about this added layer of trust and intimacy you never in your wildest dreams believed you could be lucky enough to experience, enhanced your connection with the witch.

Attributing this factor to why you were so needy for any scrap of attention from the older woman, you were positively thrilled any time she so much as looked at you. Which, admittedly, was often. Whenever your insecurities raised their ugly heads, darkly whispering that you were going to get on Wanda’s nerves if you kept up, the woman would invariably find ways to reassure you just how pleased she was that you were finally comfortable enough to be yourself around her.

The only thing you were really still concerned about was how Wanda hadn’t let you return the favor yet, so to speak. After that first night you both slept together, any time you attempted to turn your lovemaking around to focus on Wanda, she would redirect you, distracting you with kisses until, breathless, you forgot what you were trying to do in the first place. You never forgot for long though, and by the end of each evening you were beginning to think maybe she didn’t want you to touch her. Insecurities returned full force, you found yourself wondering if maybe the witch regretted taking things this far and was using this tactic to keep herself from unwanted advances.

What if Wanda was only continuing this because she realized too late that you hadn’t measured up, and she didn’t want to hurt your feelings after going so far in her promises to you that she wanted you no matter what? Maybe she was stalling until she could find a way to extricate herself from this situation?

Knowing the woman was a mind reader, you fought valiantly to keep these thoughts buried as much as you could. By the fourth night though, it was taking a toll on you mentally. The pair of you were cuddling after she had provided you with another set of mind-blowing orgasms, Wanda periodically peppering your face with sweet kisses.

As always, the witch could sense your change in demeanor. “What is it, detka? I see your mind working a hundred miles an hour from here.”

Using her thumb the older woman gently smoothed out the crease on your forehead, before kissing the same spot, the key indicator you had been lost in thought. Your heart twisted traitorously, and you tried to escape instead in relishing in the sweetness of her behavior, fearing it may possibly be the last time she ever does so. It’s not that you were dying to know, per se, but rather that you loved her so much and if she wasn’t happy with you, you wanted to know. Either so you could fix it, or free her from her supposed obligation to you. Even if… even if that would break you, knowing in your heart that you loved her and couldn’t bear the thought of holding her to you out of mere obligation when she could have the opportunity to find happiness elsewhere.

A deep exhale was released from you prior to you looking up at her, eyes filled with vulnerable honesty. Your voice was meek, clearly dreading the answer but needing to know at the same time. “Why won’t you ever let me touch you?”

Now it was Wanda’s turn to furrow her brow in thought, trying to figure out where your thoughts were at. “What do you mean, lyubov moya? You’re touching me right now.” The redhead placed her hand atop yours on her chest, giving it a brief squeeze, to emphasize her point.

To add to your dread, now your stomach flipped with anxiety at having to explain yourself.

"I- when... when we're in bed, anytime I try to... touch you, you turn it around back on me. Do you not want me to touch you? Do you..." you gulped. "Do you regret what's happened between us? Am I not living up to your expectations? If it's something I can fix, Wanda, I like you too much not to try. But I can't fix what I don't know is broken. Or, I mean, it’s totally okay" It wasn’t. “If you’ve changed your mind, if you don’t want me, you don’t have to pretend.”

Green eyes turned glassy with tears as they widened in surprise. Oh, her poor kotenok, how had Wanda not realized how her behavior was making you feel? All she wanted was to love you and take her time savoring you after waiting so long to be with you again. She just hadn't wanted for you to feel pressured to reciprocate her advances. Knowing you had always been a tender-hearted person who needed to be eased into things, Wanda wished she had realized it sooner. She had never meant to hurt you; in fact, that was the opposite of what she wanted with you. As if she could ever not want you. As if the mere thought of ever letting you go didn’t make her want to burn the entire multiverse to the ground in grief.

"Oh dorogaya, no! I'm so sorry for making you feel that way, it wasn't my intention. It's just... I've waited so long for you, Y/N. I only wanted to cherish our time together. I didn't want to pressure you into doing anything you weren't ready or didn't want to do. That doesn't mean I don't want you to touch me, my love. In fact, it's quite the opposite, I can't wait for you to touch me, sweetheart." By the end of her declaration, her voice had become considerably lower.

The witch leaned into your personal space until her forehead was resting gently against yours. She closed her eyes briefly, enjoying the closeness, before she opened them to look deeply into your eyes, willing you to understand the seriousness of what she was about to tell you.

“I love you, Y/N. So much. If you want to touch me, if you feel ready for that, I promise that I won’t turn you away again. Alright malyshka? I just didn’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you weren’t ready for. You mean too much for me to rush what we have for mere physicality. I have waited so long for you lyubov moya, and if you needed I would continue to wait forever. I never meant to hurt you. I want you so much I feel like my body aches for you, but I never wanted to push you, in case you weren’t ready. I’m sorry that in doing so I was making you feel unwanted, that’s absolutely not the case. Please Y/N, tell me you understand tha-”

You interrupted Wanda’s rambling, eagerly pressing your lips against hers. Your hand, previously resting on her chest, now gripped her shirt, pulling her closer to you. The surprise on the former Avenger's face was evident. The passionate intensity of your kiss ignited a strong desire within her, causing her arms to wrap around the back of your neck as you practically threw yourself on top of her.

Although initially frenzied, the kiss simmered slowly and sensual. While you were excited to finally have the opportunity to touch Wanda the way you had been dreaming of (far longer than you were even willing to admit to yourself), you didn't want to rush it, still nervous having never done this before. One of your hands that had been clutching her shirt to keep her close, gently slid up to cup her cheek, savoring the feeling of her soft skin against your hand.

Briefly, you pulled away to catch Wanda's eyes with a silent question, your thumb grazing across the apple of her cheek softly. Feeling warmed that you wanted to check in, the witch tightened her arms that were behind your neck and nodded. You leaned in again, and as your lips met hers, you gently took her lower lip between yours, sucking on it, eliciting a deep moan from her. As the kiss deepened, Wanda's hand wound itself in your hair, nails lightly scratching your scalp. The older woman was willing to let you do anything, as long as she could ensure that you stayed close to her at all times.

Unhurriedly you trailed your lips down Wanda's jawline, leaving a series of soft kisses along her skin. Your hands started to explore her body, tracing the curves and contours that you had longed to touch. Wanda's breath hitched as your fingertips danced across sensitive areas, sending shivers down her spine.

As your lips continued their journey, you found yourself exploring every inch of Wanda's body, relishing the taste and texture of her skin. Hands moving with a blend of tenderness and desire, expressing your love and admiration for her. Breathy moans filled the air, a delightful melody to your ears, as Wanda eagerly responded to your touch. Lips caressing the swell of Wanda's breasts, moving from one to the other before settling on one to worship. With tentative strokes of your tongue, you swirled around and then across the hardened bud of her nipple, eliciting a groan from the witch that caused your core to clench around nothing.

For a few days now, your fantasies revolved around finding out if Wanda tasted as good as she looked. Said fantasies were coming to fruition, and you practically couldn’t wait. Replacing your lips with your hand as you lowered yourself down her body, leaving hot, wet kisses down her abdomen til you were situated comfortably between her legs. You were greeted with a mouthwatering sight - evidence of her pleasure slicked down her thighs, dripping onto the bed. Gods, this was all for you? Because of you? You did this to her, no one else. You bet she tasted divine, nectar of the fucking gods.

Unintentionally you spent so long staring, that if your flattering thoughts hadn’t been so loud, Wanda would have felt self-conscious. Seeming to snap out of your reverie, you raised your eyes to capture the witch’s gaze, looking for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. Sensing none, you lowered your lips to press a soft kiss to the hood of her clit, listening as Wanda’s voice caught in a small gasp.

Never breaking eye contact, you ran a cursory swipe of your tongue over her folds. Your eyes fluttered shut as both you and Wanda moaned in unison - Wanda from the sensation of your tongue on her most intimate area, and you from the delicious taste. It had a slight tanginess, with a unique flavor that belonged solely to Wanda. In that moment, you knew that if you were ever on death row, she would be your choice for a last meal. Nothing would ever compare to the taste of her, and you were certain you would never be able to get enough.

You eagerly immersed yourself in Wanda's essence, like a woman starved. Paying close attention to every detail that elicited delightful sounds from her lips, you memorized them for future reference. Although you may have lacked practical experience, your enthusiasm and ability to learn quickly more than compensated for it.

Wanda's moans and whimpers were soon reaching their peak as her thighs tightly wrapped around your head. Aware that she was close, you took her pearl into your mouth and gently sucked on it while flicking your tongue against it over and over again. Sharp nails dug into your scalp as she held you firmly in place, urging you not to stop. Despite feeling a bit lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, you had no intention of stopping, not that you could with her ankles locked behind your head.

A broken cry escaped from Wanda as she climaxed, her thighs trembling near your ears. You eagerly licked up her slick, relishing in the signs of her pleasure as she reached her peak. Wanting to explore something different, you positioned your index and middle fingers at her entrance, feeling it contract around nothing, and effortlessly slid them inside.

You groaned as you were enveloped in her tight heat, feeling her clenching around the new intrusion. Recalling how she had made you see stars, you began curling your digits, looking for that spongy spot, all the while never letting up on your tongue’s ministrations. The redhead all but screamed as her first orgasm slammed head long into a second one with no time to breathe in between. Her core was spasming around you, practically drawing you in, and fuck if this wasn’t the hottest experience of your entire life.

If Wanda hadn't gently tapped your head, pulling at your hair to lift you as her oversensitive body transitioned from pleasure to borderline pain, you probably would have continued until you were both completely spent. Deciding that while you enjoyed it when the older woman touched you but touching her was an almost spiritual experience. It wouldn't be surprising if this became your newest favorite hyper fixation, though not one likely to disappear anytime soon if ever. To avoid causing any discomfort to Wanda, you accepted her request and moved away.

Face completely drenched, you smiled, using your fingers to savor the remnants of her release. Both of you moaned - Wanda at the sight, and you at the return of your favorite new dessert to your taste buds. Breathless, Wanda chuckled at the self-satisfied expression on your face and reached out for you to join her. Taking the hint, you draped yourself over her body, gazing at her with a love-sick expression. The woman didn't waste any time before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, her smile pressing against your lips.

Eventually parting for air, you stared into each other's eyes, before both of you burst into giggles. Her toned arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and you relished her proximity. Tucking your head under her chin, a happy sigh released from you while Wanda hummed in delight.

“That was wonderful, malyshka. I know you were worried about “measuring up”, as you would put it, but I want you to know, you exceeded any expectations that I might have had.” Satisfaction dripped from her voice, making you feel content with your efforts. For so long now you had wanted to make her feel even a fraction of the happiness that she had brought to you. It brought you immense joy to know that you had succeeded.

“I’m glad I was able to make you feel good, Wands.” you murmured. “I like making you happy.” You nuzzled under her chin.

The former avenger chuckled at your submissive nature. You were so perfect for her, and you didn’t even know. “Darling, you don’t have to make me come to make me happy. You do that just by being here with me.”

She followed up her words with a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you tried to keep your happy wiggles as subtle as possible. This made her almost burst out with laughter. “You’re so cute, Y/N. You don’t have to hide your happiness from me, dorogaya, I would never judge you. It’s adorable.”

You hadn’t thought it was possible, but she had unknowingly wrapped another metaphorical magical tendril around your heart with those words. Raising your head to make eye contact, you gazed at her as if she had hung the stars. How could this woman be so perfect for you? Always knowing what to say, how to attenuate your insecurities, making you feel safe to be your most authentic self in her presence. Was this woman even real?

Although it was too early to utter those three cherished words that you never expected to say to anyone, you undeniably felt them in your heart and soul at this moment. You longed to express them out loud, but you held back. Now was not the right time. Perhaps soon, though. Instead, you gently pressed a pure, innocent kiss on her lips, hoping to convey the emotions that you weren't quite prepared to vocalize yet. Reciprocating the pace and pressure of your kiss, Wanda followed it up with a brief kiss to the tip of your nose, making you giggle.

“Let’s get cleaned up, lyubov.” She conjured warm, damp cloths for the both of you, insisting on helping you clean up before taking care of herself. Once all traces of your nightly activities were gone, you cuddled up to the witch. You crawled back into her embrace, feeling comfortable enough to entangle your legs with Wanda’s as you laid practically on top of her.

Briefly considering teasing you but being unwilling to jeopardize your newfound confidence with her Wanda simply giggled, placing kisses atop your head, and holding you close. Things couldn’t be more perfect, and the former avenger felt her heart overflowing with love and affection for you. Using her magic, she turned off the lights for the night, murmuring a sweet “Good night lyubov moya.”

One day you resolved to ask her those and all the other words in her native Sokovian specifically meant, but as always, once your eyes began drifting closed, all thoughts left your mind. For now, you were blissfully content in Wanda’s arms.

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