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candy69gurl · 2 months

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can you do hybrid! Wolf toji claiming you during his rut?

THE HOWL OF DESIRE

Hybrid! Wolf toji x f!reader

Warnings- 18+, dark, slight non/con (Toji does not intend to harm you), size kink (both are adults), cave sex, multiple orgasms, nipple biting & play, fingering (Toji has black big nails), raw sex (cumming inside many times), breeding, pussy eating

wc - 2.6k

ART NOT MINE !

As you traverse through the dense woods, you find yourself getting increasingly disoriented, unsure of which way leads back to civilization. The sun's rays barely penetrating the thick canopy above, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. You begin to worry, knowing that spending the night here could lead to dangerous consequences.

Suddenly, your senses pick up on the sound of rustling leaves nearby. You freeze, trying to discern whether it is an animal or something more sinister.

A figure emerges from behind a tree, and you gasp involuntarily. It is a creature of height 6'1ft, he appears as a magnificent wolf-human hybrid. He is slender but muscular and athletic, and his wolfish aura makes him look intimidating. As he closes on your position you notice his ears flattened on his head and his tail is pointed upright, his body has chiseled muscles and trademark scars, his green sword-like eyes looking through your soul. His mouth bore fang-like teeth that you swear are more vicious than natural canine teeth of humans.

His eyes lock onto yours, a mixture of hunger and desire burning within their depths.

"Hello, human," he growls softly, his voice tinged with an animalistic quality. "Lost, are we? Well, I don't normally go for humans, but you seem intriguing enough."

As you stand frozen in fear and confusion, Toji takes a step closer, his form shifting slightly, the wolf aspects becoming more pronounced. His eyes gleam with lust, and you can faintly smell his pheromones in the air – a testament to his overwhelming need to mate. "Ah finally," he says, taking another step toward you. "It's just my rut, and I need a mate to breed with. Normally, I wouldn't ask a human, but I cannot wait anymore."

His voice is calm, almost soothing despite the terrifying situation. Your heart races as you contemplate your options, but you realize that running might only agitate him further. Nonetheless your legs unconsciously start to move. There is only one way to get out of this- by running.

"So," he continues, his back facing you but when he turns to you, he sees you running, " What's a prey if they don't try running".

With a grin spreading across his face, Toji starts running after you, muscles rippling as he leaps after you. His movements are fluid and quick, darting through the trees with ease. You feel your adrenaline surge, pushing your speed to its limit as you navigate the unfamiliar terrain. However, he seems to know these woods intimately, and your panic increases as you realize you're unable to shake him off.

"Caught you little bunny" he exclaims, grabbing your neck. Despite his triumphant words, there's a hint of concern in his eyes. He pauses, contemplating his next move. "Running isn't going to solve anything, and believe me, you don't want to get hurt.. Or do you?"

"P-please let me go.. I have to get back home."

Toji weighs your plea, his gaze lingering on you thoughtfully. His need for release is urgent, but he doesn't wish to harm you unnecessarily. "I can let you go, but I'm afraid you won't find your way back alone." His voice holds a note of genuine concern, his eyes softening momentarily.

Then, his expression shifts, the wolfish hunger returning. "But," he adds, "If you agree to stay and help alleviate my… condition, I promise to guide you safely back to where you belong. You won't regret it, trust me." He leans close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, "I'll make sure you enjoy it too."

You stand there, contemplating your options. The thought of being alone in these woods, possibly lost for another night, is daunting. On the other hand, submitting to Toji's demands is equally terrifying, but there's a strange allure to it as well. His promise of safety and pleasure seems almost too good to be true.

As you weigh the pros and cons, Toji watches you intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He can sense your hesitation, and it fuels his desire even more. "I understand if you're scared," he says softly, reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "But I promise, I won't hurt you. I just need someone to share this with, and you seem like the perfect one."

His touch is warm and comforting, despite the situation. You can't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, as if he truly means what he says. "So, what do you say?" he asks, his voice low and seductive. "Will you help me, and let me help you in return?"

"O-only if you promise to be gentle..", you reply, your voice shaking from his intimidating aura.

Toji's eyes crinkle at the corners, a rare smile gracing his features. "Gentle it is," he assures you, his grip on your cheek gentle but firm. "I can't promise but I will try since you are my first human mate.. Come, let's find a suitable spot. We don't want to draw attention, do we?" His voice is smooth, radiating confidence and control. You hesitate, but there's a sense of safety in his presence that you can't deny.

With a deep breath, you take his hand, allowing him to lead you deeper into the woods. The fear is still there, but it's tempered by a growing curiosity. You're stepping into unknown territory, but for some reason, you don't feel threatened. Instead, there's a strange excitement coursing through you, making your heart beat faster.

As you follow Toji deeper into the woods, you begin to notice subtle changes in the landscape. Brambles part before you, revealing a hidden trail leading to a small clearing. In the center of the clearing lies a cave, half-hidden by the surrounding foliage. This is where Toji leads you, guiding you inside with a gentle push.

The cave is surprisingly cozy, lit by the dim light seeping through the entrance. There's a palpable sense of warmth and security, and you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. Toji observes your reaction, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"This is my den," he explains, gesturing around. "Now, shall we proceed?" He tilts his head, his eyes holding a mix of anticipation and expectation. You can tell that his rut is still strong, but he's patiently waiting for your lead.

Your nod sends a wave of excitement through Toji, his eyes glinting with eagerness.. He quickly steps closer, nearly ripping your pants and panties off. He hovers over you, his eyes locked on yours as he positions himself between your thighs.

Surprised by his sudden movement, you struggle in his grip, "W-wait you need to loosen me up"

Toji pauses, confusion clouding his features for a brief moment. "Loosen you up?" he repeats, his voice heavy with confusion. Then, understanding dawns on his face, and he chuckles softly. "Tsk, I can wait no more but fine since you beg me so obediently", moving between your legs. He gently parts you with his fingers, feeling your dampness.

"You're already prepared," he murmurs, a note of approval in his voice.

"Ah~", your back arches at his finger movements, your back hitting the ground of the cave.

At your response, Toji's eyes darken with lust. He thrusts his fingers into you roughly. You arch your back,

"Are ya loose yet?" His eyes remain locked on yours, his expression a mix of impatience and excitement.

"n-no not yet.. a-ah", your voice cracks up in pleasure.

Toji's eyes narrow, his brows furrowing in concentration. He inserts a third finger, thrusting harder this time, stretching you wider. You cry out, a mixture of pleasure and pain washing over you as you near your edge.

"Humans are so responsive..." he mutters, his voice thick with desire as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity between you and him building, is only heightened by the dim light of the cave.

Finally, after several more thrusts, you reach your orgasm and he withdraws his fingers, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips. "Ready?" He asks, his gaze locked on your face, waiting for your answer.

"mghh.. n-not now.. I need sometime.. I am sensitive right now", you protest.

Toji's eyes squint in annoyance "Shut up, I have been patient enough. I can't wait any longer."

With that, he positions himself between your legs again .With a sudden powerful surge, Toji thrusts into you, his giant cock stretching your poor hole wide. You gasp, your nails digging into the cave floor as you struggle to adjust to the intense sensation.

"Please.. A-ah .. be gentle"

"Shush..I am trying .. You humans are so fragile.. But", he grunts in pleasure, "ya feel so good. I never thought humans feel this good"

Though he is trying to be gentle, but your insides feel so good that he can't help but move relentlessly, his hips pumping in a primal rhythm. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure and pain through you, your body responding to his dominance.

Despite your initial protest, you can't help but moan loudly, writhing beneath him. His roughness sets you ablaze, and you find yourself meeting his thrusts eagerly. His scent, his strength - everything about this experience overwhelms you. Your body cries out for release, and you know you won't last long.

"That's it, take it!" Toji growls, his eyes locked on yours. His primal nature is on full display, and it's intoxicating.

Your toes curl up as Toji's thrusts intensify, his eyes widening at your reaction. "Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his voice thick with lust. "You feel incredible." His pace quickens, his hips slamming into you with brutal efficiency. You cry out, the cave echoing with your sounds of pleasure and pain.

His rut is nearing its peak, his body trembling with suppressed energy. With one last powerful lunge, he buries himself deep within you, filling you with his seed. "Take it all," he rasps, his breath hot against your neck.

In that moment, you surrender to the sensations, your own climax washing over you. Together, you collapse onto the cave floor, feeling spent but incredibly fulfilled. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, holding him close.

As he recovers, Toji nuzzles your neck, his breathing ragged. "I hope I was gentle enough," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction.

"No .. you are so mean..", you reply panting.

Toji laughs, his chest rumbling against your throat. "Mean? Maybe, but effective, wouldn't you agree?" He teases, his grip on you tightening. "Besides, don't lie, you enjoyed it too."

He's right, you did enjoy it - despite the roughness. The intensity of the encounter left you shaken yet exhilarated. He turns you on your stomach "don't think it's over yet.. It's just a starting"

"w-what?", your pupil dilates at the though.

Toji pushes you on your stomach and he enters from behind. You moan, feeling him stretch you once again. With a smirk, he begins to thrust relentlessly, his body slamming against yours. His large hands grip your sides, holding you steady as he takes you from behind.

"We are going to do it whole night" he growls, each word punctuated by his thrusts.

You cry out, your body responding eagerly to his advances. You can't deny the pleasure surging through you. His dominance excites you, the raw intensity of his actions sending you spiraling towards another climax.

"God, you're so good," he praises, his voice thick with lust. "I could spend hours with you, sweet human."

"P-please can't no more", you plead.

Toji stills, pulling his cock out, your body shaking from oversensitiveness. "Already?" then he thrusts into you again. "I know you can handle this."

You cry out, feeling him entering you again.

Time skips, and you and he are still at it, you don't know what time it is, you don't know how many orgasms coursed through you.. The only thing you know is the pleasure you are getting from this.

Toji's eyes shine with lust, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he bounces you on his lap. Your hair falls in disarray around your face, your skin flushed from exertion. Each thrust elicits a soft moan from you, your body responding to his every command.

"Feel good?" he asks, his voice low and sultry. His eyes hold a mixture of satisfaction and hunger, his gaze never leaving your face. You nod, breathless, your nails scratching lightly at his shoulders.

"Good," he growls, increasing his pace. "I knew you'd love this." His hips buck, driving into you harder, faster. You cry out, your body reacting to his every touch.

"p-please play with my nipples too.. mhmm", your face flush with shame as you beg him to pleasure you. Unknowingly removing your hands remove your top and push up your bra, revealing your breasts with stiffening nipples.

Toji's eyes light up at your request, his hands immediately moving to your breasts. He pinches your nipples gently, then harder, eliciting a mix of pleasure and pain from you. You cry out, your body arching in response.

"You like that?" he asks, his voice thick with lust. "Is this what you wanted?"

You nod, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He leans to catch one of your bouncing tits in his mouth, licking and sucking. His fangs brush your nipples, nibbling on them gently

"f-fuck .. dont bite them.. ahhh."

Toji pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. He looks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "My apologies," he says, feigning innocence. "It seemed to please you though."

He resumes his thrusts, his movements fierce and unrestrained. His hands pinch and twist your nipples, his tongue lashing over them in turn. Each touch sends waves of pleasure-pain coursing through you, your body responding eagerly.

"I'm close," you whisper, your voice hoarse.

"Not yet," he growls, his eyes darkening. "I'm not done with you."

His words send a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you, pushing you closer to the edge. You cry out, your body writhing beneath him as he plays with your nipples, fucking you relentlessly.

"R-really can't anymore.. please let me .. let me cum", you beg him, tears falling from your cheeks.

Toji's eyes meet your teary eyes, his breath ragged.

"Don't cry little human", he licks your cheek wiping off your tears. "Then cum," he growls, his voice rough with pleasure. "Let go."

With a final, hard thrust, he drives into you, the motion perfectly synchronized with your climax. You cry out, your body shaking as you crest over the edge. He follows suit, his cock pulsing within you as he finds his own release. He growls which sounds more like a howl, as he fills your womb with his thick seed.

Exhausted, you slump against him, your breathing ragged. He holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

Soon you pass out. Toji catches you easily, his grip firm yet tender. "Awww. I wanted more though," he whispers, his voice softening, "but fine.. I have had enough fun.. I will help ya return tomorrow"

He gazes at your sleeping form, a hint of tenderness in his eyes. Despite his rough exterior, he cares for you. He wraps his big arms around you covering your fragile body, ensuring you stay warm throughout the night.

You awaken slowly, feeling warm, wet warmth between your legs. Your eyes flutter open, landing on Toji's face, his eyes gleaming with desire as he licks your cunt. The sight is both erotic and overwhelming.

"Morning," he greets, his voice thick with lust. "How are you feeling?"

You swallow hard, your heart racing. "W-what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he responds, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Cleaning you up after last night's fun."

You blush, your body reacting to his touch whether you want it to or not. Your eyes squeeze shut as he licks and kisses your most intimate places.

"Mmm, you taste delicious," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Like sweet honey."

"H-hey you said.. you will help me return back home.."

Toji raises his head, his eyes locked on yours. "Go home?" he repeats, surprise clear in his voice. "Oh yes.. But I want to fuck you before I leave you alone for good"

Your skin is already sensitive from his licks and touches, your body ready for more. You bite your lower lip before nodding.

He grins, his eyes filled with lust. "What we waiting for then?" He quickly moves, positioning himself between your legs.

He chuckles as your walls devour his huge girth. "I love how good your taking me.. Fuck.. I'll always find you during my rut, my little bunny."

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zombieplaygrounds · 10 days

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cw: post sex scenario-ish, nikto x fem implied! reader, drunken sex implied, idk what else. might marry this man

The worst part was after the sex. Your memories of last night were probably a blur. And for Nikto, well, he'd never let himself be so vulnerable as to forget a night spent with something as sweet as you. When you had first approached Nikto, he wondered if you realized how hideous and ravaged he was.

Didn't have the time to pull his face mask up when you trotted over, begging for a night with him. He wondered if sober you, the one buried against his sternum, would remember the rough texture of his countless scars, of the mutilated bits of his body - if you would wake up with fear, screaming for him to get out.

Yet you never gave him the chance to cower - hide away his trauma branded flesh. Somehow your grip so strong, fingers curled into his own. A python-like death grip wrapped around his left leg with both of yours. Naked. His shirt.

Oh fuck.

Realization was really hitting when he felt your soft, elongated sigh against his jaw, lips rubbing the scarred texture of his skin. The fascinating texture you couldn't get your cold fingers off of last night, even when he let you flip positions, in hopes it would lessen this touchy, needy state of yours. Nikto only achieved the opposite. You grasped at his fingers for support, hips rolling as you whimpered, letting him muffle your explicit sounds with his finger tips pressing to your lips, mesmerized by how effortlessly soft your skin was.

He was staring at you like he loved you.

And maybe you were just really drunk, lost by the feeling of his cock bruising your pretty cunt just to break entrance; followed by far too many orgasms to clear through the spilled word dictionaries in your brain. Whatever it was, you drew to a reckless conclusion. You slurred a kiss into his palm, whispering how much you loved him. A soft prayer he would stay until you woke up because he was just “so fucking hot” and you “wanted to make out with him again.”

Didn’t even fight back when he just shushed you and hid your face in his chest, desperate to not let you feel the boiling heat that surfaced in his face.

Too much for an exhausted man like himself. Couldn't stop himself from wrapping his arms around you, relishing in your sweet scent with the hint of smoke from the incense you burned. Smoke used to terrify Nikto, remind him of harsher times. Would make his heart throb and his body tremble - and yet the scent from you made him want to trace the vertebrae of your spine until you swatted at him like a small, feral cat.

The rigid sensation his dry fingertips mapped made the loud thoughts in his head blur away - even if just momentarily. The several voices which once ran rampant and rebellious within his darkest mind caverns had finally slowed. A single thought running through his mind as he curled the soft locks of your hair between his finger tips, tightening the grip and watching it feather down.

"How soft."

Not realizing Nikto had spoken his thoughts aloud, he was genuinely surprised when you finally stirred awake, a curious gaze in your eyes and a groggy "mhm?" making it's way out of your sigh. Poor man, cuddling you like you had his family in a room downstairs, eyes wide with fright, and his heart beat picked up pace. It surprised you, confused you, yet you just did your best not to scare the wild man that bubbled in his mind.

Buried your face back into his chest, kissing against his soft muscle. Biting a soft, pink hickey that flushed easily and licking away your own drool. Eyes glancing up from behind your lashes as you felt his body settle just a bit. Maybe if you were a little less in love with the big muscles and puppy, blue eyes, you would've taken his secure tighten around your body as a sign that he was about to dedicate his entire life to you. But you didn't - just let your eyes flutter shut and let your head plop back between his muscled breasts.

tagging friends :)) @yandere-kokeshi @kettlemouse @babybimbo777

#cod nikto #nikto x reader #nikto #call of duty nikto #mwii nikto #cod fanfic #cod #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty #modern warfare #tag whatever because nikto needs more tags :((#zombieplaygrounds #zombieplayground

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daydreaming-nerd · 15 days

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The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 3 (Lucien's Version)

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)

AN: I'm not really sure if I like how this turned out, so if you're new here I promise my writing it typically so much better. ALSO there are so many new faces on here! I wanted to say hello and thank you for the love once again! If you liked this fic and you love drama, forbidden love, protective acotar boys, a bit of a slow burn, and political intrigue you would LOVE and I mean LOVE my fic Young Love and Old Money. I’m still writing it but it’s almost completed! Go check it out you won’t be disappointed!

and of course check out my masterlist

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right?

Warnings: smut, so much lucien fluff, happy ending for lucien (for once) :)

Word count: 5057

We arrived in the house in silence, the only thing to fill the void was the crackling of the enchanted fire that always sprang to life whenever I walked through the door. My eyes were fixed on the floorboards, studying every grain of wood as I put together what had just happened.

I had told Azriel about the bond, and I did it in anger. I had imagined telling him a million different ways over the past 400 years but never did imagine doing it out of spite. I was just so angry with Elain and her insufferable entitlement that had me seeing red. If anyone should act in such a manner, it should be me, I was a princess after all.

I was furious with Elain there was no doubt about that, but the voice that kept echoing in my mind was Azriel’s. How he yelled at me. I had known him my whole life and I had never once been afraid of him, until today.

As if he was tired of the silence, Lucien brushed his hand under my chin bringing my gaze to his, it wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying. I didn’t even give him a chance to ask if I was alright before I started blubbering.

“Lu I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to. She just got under my skin and I-”

“Shhh” he cooed, pulling me into his chest. “It’s okay, I understand. I didn’t react much better when Azriel started talking.” he chuckled, no doubt remembering how he preemptively called me his wife, the words had rolled off his tongue so effortlessly it was admirable.

“He’s never raised his voice to me like that. Not ever,” I hiccup into his chest, his scent like apples, spiced berries and woodsmoke.

“I should’ve burned him to a crisp for doing so he has no right to treat you that way,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“It’s alright, now that he knows he’ll be entitled to act possessive of me,” I sigh, starting to feel my pulse slow in his arms.

“And I’m not granted that same right? To protect you?” Lucien said, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze.

“Well, you aren’t my mate,” I laugh looking into his eyes.

“And what if that doesn’t matter to me? That we aren’t mates? What if I think that the Cauldron made a terrible, horrible mistake by not binding me to you in every way imaginable?” he confesses.

I search his face for a hint of that playful gleam I saw earlier. The trickster, the silver tongued fox who might be playing me for a fool. But I didn’t find it, for all those fiery eyes bore was sincerity.

“What do you mean Lu?” I ask earnestly.

“Exactly what I said, you aren’t my mate, but…” he stops as if to consider his words. “But I still feel like you are in a way, I feel protective of you. In a way I always have, remember when you scraped your knee climbing that cherry blossom tree in the spring court all those years ago?”

I smile remembering the event, I had wanted some cherry blossoms to braid into my hair. “Yes I do, I still have the scar.” I laughed.

“I know you do, I see it every time I make love to you,” he smiled back. “I remember carrying you to the healers at the spring court from half a mile out. Even then I couldn’t stand the thought of you bearing any sort of scar. What I’m trying to say is that you may not be my mate, but I love you like you’re mine. Because you are, you are mine.”

My breath gets caught in my throat and my eyes go wide at those three little words. The ones I thought I might’ve felt too these past few months.

I love you.

For a year now things between Lucien and I had been strictly situational, just a means to an end. Then I started noticing the little things, his toothbrush next to mine, his laundry in my hamper, him having his own side of the bed. Things changed, but it wasn’t a bad change, which was a new idea for me, as I had always resented change. But not this, this was good.

I thought I had felt that emotion with Lucien before. The night that I came home and he had made us both dinner. The time he bought me the second book in a series just because he noticed I was almost done with the first. The week I was sick he nursed my back to health. I thought I felt love each and every one of those times, but I wasn’t sure. I always teetered on saying it but never caved. But as I stood here in his arms, watching his eyes light up as he said those words to me, I knew I felt the same.

“I-I love you too Lucien,” I said quietly so only he could hear, even though we were the only two people in the house.

He wastes no time bringing his mouth to mine, for so long our kisses had been fervent, needy. Both of us desiring pleasure and the codling that came after it. This kiss was different than all the rest, in it I felt real love. The kind I had only read about in my numerous romance novels. I dreamed of being kissed this way my entire life.

I felt strong hands grip my waist hoisting me up. My legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he started bounding up the stairs, his enthusiasm making me giggle.

“Believe me my love, there is nothing funny about the way I’m going to ravish you tonight,” he smirked before kicking open the bedroom door.

The next day I woke up slowly, not wanting to move from where Lucien had placed me on his chest last night. Both of us took our time to have a steady morning knowing that later in the day there would be chaos. Lucien got up first, always the more responsible of the two of us. When I murmured a sleepy protest he simply chuckled and placed me back in bed, where I snuggled into the warm sheets that smell faintly of him.

When I woke for the second time I smelled that delectable scent of pancakes wafting through the small townhouse. The aroma pulled me from the sheets in a sleepy haze as if my body was controlled by some other worldly force. Slipping on my blue nightgown and padding downstairs into the kitchen I found Lucien half clothed and cooking breakfast for the two of us.

“Blueberry pancakes, not chocolate chip,” he assured me, sprinkling fresh blueberries onto a pancake.

“You remembered,” I sighed leaning against the counter watching him intently. When Lucien had first made breakfast for me I was taken aback by his cooking skills, there was no way that this man was the complete package.

“How could I forget?” he laughed, flipping a pancake. “Last time I made chocolate you were on your cycle and you were so befuddled that you yanked the spatula out of my hand and spanked me with it.”

I slid between him and the stove, “Don’t act like you didn’t like it,” I say my voice low and sultry as my hand slowly reaches for the spatula he’s hidden behind his back.

“You little minx,” he teases when he feels my fingers searching for the torture weapon. The mischievous gleam flashes in his eyes and before I can run he swipes a blob of whipped cream from a nearby bowl onto my cheek.

“Lu!” I scoff going to wipe the cream off my cheek but he grasps my wrist to stop me.

“Fair is fair my dear,” he smirks before licking the sweetness off my cheek. I immediately feel my toes curl at the fiery sensation.

“You are insatiable,” I laughed, moving away from him to properly wipe my face.

I feel a quick slap to my arse with the spatula and I turn to see my fiancé standing with a self satisfied smirk. “Says you little miss ‘more Lucien more!’” he teases recalling how I begged him to touch me last night.

“I knew you would tease me about that!” I shouted, pushing his study form as hard as I could, he didn’t even teeter. “I’ll never beg for you again!”

He smiles, grabbing my left hand and pulling it to his mouth, placing a kiss on the ring adorning it. “There will never be a need,” he smirked. “Now go and set the table, babysitting Nyx duties can’t be put off for forever.”

I had told Rhys and Feyre that I would happily watch Nyx this afternoon. Of course that was before they knew about Lucien, who might’ve gotten away with a pleasant afternoon in my townhouse with a new book but now? He was shackled to me to watch the young one.

While the little High Lord in training was typically quite docile, he had just learned to crawl and had begun flapping his little wings, which meant trouble was becoming the new normal. Which is exactly what had happened today…

“Nyx no!” I shouted as he reached for a heavy book on one of the bookshelves, his tiny wings helping him to gain the extra inch or two of ground he needed.

I grabbed him from underneath his shoulders and brought him into my arms, bouncing him on my hip as his eyes caught the shiny necklace I was wearing. His little hands grabbed at it and I figured it was better than a vase or another heavy book.

“Just imagine till he can actually fly,” Lucien chuckled, coming up behind me.

“That won’t be for quite a while thankfully,” I laugh, bouncing the babe up and down.

“Are you so sure about that? Cassian seems to already be giving him lessons.” he points out.

“I don’t even want to think about a flying toddler,” I scoff and Lucien chuckles behind me.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I could feel his lips curling into a smile.“Is it bad that I’m enjoying watching this?” he admitted.

“Watching what?” I laugh as Nyx puts the necklace in his mouth.

“You, with a baby in your arms,” he said.

“I’ve always wanted children,” I said and a beat of silence passed until I decided to be bold. “Lu, do you think we could ever have children?” I ask, afraid to turn around and possibly see a wary look on his face.

I felt Lucien’s chuckle reverberate behind me, “As many as you would like my darling.” he laughed.

I whipped around with Nyx to search his eyes for a hint of uncertainty, but he seemed happy about the idea, “Really?” I asked in disbelief.

“Of course,” he assured me.

“I want a million just like little Nyx here,” I smile looking at the babe in my arms.

“Minus the wings of course,” Lucien laughs behind me and I pause.

My entire life I had always pictured my children with wings. Small, delicate little things that I would ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ over. I remembered seeing the Illyrian children in Windhaven growing up, I was always so happy when mothers would let me hold their babies, their wings so adorably small. I looked forward to having winged children of my own, but now things had changed.

“What is it my dear?” Lucien asked, breaking me out of my trance.

“Oh it’s nothing, it’s just that when I pictured my children I always figured they would have wings,” I say, pressing a kiss to Nyx’s temple.

As if summoned, Azriel walked in, Rhys and Feyre in tow, signaling that their meeting was over. His eyes flitted to me, no doubt having heard what I had said. Lucien’s hand tightened on my hip.

“How was he? Was he good?” Feyre smiled crossing the room to take her son in her arms once more.

“He was, but those wings are going to give me grief one day,” I smile watching Nyx snuggle into his mothers arms.

“Don’t worry I’m terrified too,” Rhys laughed, approaching his mate and child.

A comfortable silence ensued as I watched the little family reunite, smiles and warmth surrounding them. Lucien’s hand came to my shoulder, as if promising that we too would have that same picture perfect family one day.

“Can we talk?” Azriel asked timidly, taking a step away from the doorway he leaned against. Feyre and Rhys take out of the room, no doubt feeling the change in the atmosphere.

I searched his eyes for a hint of aggression but all I found was remorse, “Yes we may,” I say quietly.

“If you lay one hand on her spymaster I will burn you to ash,” Lucien growled, his hand on my shoulder tightening possessively.

“You have my word that I will not touch her in anger,” Azriel said earnestly, not a hint of teasing or mockery. Instead, a new found respect for Lucien showed in his eyes.

I go to follow Azriel into the other room when I feel Lucien grab my hand pulling me into his broad chest.

“Wait,” he said before slamming his lips to mine. The gesture was so passionate I couldn’t help but let out the slightest of moans as I felt him cradle the back of my head. This wasn’t just a kiss goodbye, it was a display of power to Azriel, letting him know how serious the two of us were. I couldn’t help but feel my lips turn up at Lucien’s sudden daring.

I felt him back away to survey my face, as if looking for any hesitancy to enter into a conversation with Azriel. When he was certain I was comfortable he placed a kiss on my brow, “I’ll be right here if you need me.” he said as I dropped his hand and followed Azriel into Rhys’ study.

The doors to the office closed with a resolute click as Azriel turned to face me, his eyes somber.

“First and foremost I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I behaved the other night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that or said the things I did” he said leaning against the desk a food meter away from me, as if Lucien had scared him from coming any closer.

“It’s alright I forgive you. I shouldn’t have blurted out such an important thing anyways. We were both at fault.” I say earnestly.

Azriel pulls his gaze from his boots to me, “I heard what you said in there, about your children having wings. Did you ever picture that those children would be?” he starts leaving me room to finish the sentence for him.

“Yours? Yes.” I say timidly.

Azriel sighs as if weighing what all this means, “How long have you known?” he prompts.

I think to lie, but it wouldn’t bear well on my soul. It was best to get it all out in the open.

“400 years.” I confess and he curses under his breath. “I knew it the night you danced with me at the solstice ball in the Hewn City.”

“Fuck y/n,” he curses again, turning to brace his hands on the desk behind him and I take a tentative step towards him.

“I’m sorry I never told you, that wasn’t fair to you.” I sigh, but he doesn’t reply so I continue on. “It’s just that every time I thought about it you were pining for Mor and then Elain. I never felt I stood a chance. But you would talk to me about them, and even though it broke my heart to hear how you loved them so, it was better than losing you. I told myself that if I couldn’t have your love I would cherish your friendship, and maybe that was selfish of me but I did it.”

Azriel finally turned from the desk to meet my gaze and I tried to offer him the most sympathetic glance I could.

“I understand why you never told me, but I still wish I had known. Thing’s might’ve been different.” he said, running a hand through his hair.

I pause to consider his words, “Would they be?” I ask.

He looked at me in confusion, like I was dispelling the idea that the sky was blue. I understood his disarray. For thousands of years things had always been the same, mates were mates and that was that. But maybe what Lucien said last night did have merit.

“Are you not happy with Elain?” I prompt him with a light heart, as I finally started to feel some solace in my own words.

“y/n I don’t want to-”

“You do not burden me Az.” I interrupt him, knowing what he was going to say. “Tell me truthfully.”

A blush tints his cheeks as he averts his gaze to his boots once more, “I am happy. I am very happy.” he smiles as if he can’t help it.

“I think it was meant to be this way,” I say honestly watching the shadowsinger reeling in front of me.

“What about you? Are you?”

“Happy?” I ask, glancing to the door where I know Lucien waits for me on the other side. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.” I smile answering him.

“How long have you and him been… you know?” he asks, seemling losing all tension in his body as he sees me at ease.

“Since starfall,” I answered, remembering the first time Lu kissed me.

“A year?!” Az balked, raising his voice in disbelief.

I laugh watching his face drop, “it’s interesting the things you don’t notice when you’re in love,” I wink at him, knowing he was too caught up with Elain to pay any mind to Lu and I.

Azriel shakes his head as if processing this new information before he turns to me again, “And do you love him?” he asks.

I smile remembering last night, “I do, I love him very much.” I answer.

“And does he love you?” Az presses further, as if he needs to tie up all loose ends before he can be at ease with the entire situation.

“I think he made that pretty clear a couple minutes ago,” I laughed, referring to the kiss he gave me.

“Yeah I suppose I got that message loud and clear,” Azriel chuckled as a pause of silence fell over us. “I think… I think in another lifetime we would’ve made each other really happy.”

“Maybe even this lifetime.” I say sadly thinking of what could’ve been. “But I love Lucien, he chose me when I thought no one else would, and maybe I’m making a mistake by marrying him. But somehow it feels like the first right thing I’ve done in the past 400 years.”

“He’s a very lucky man,” Azriel remarked with a certain sadness. “I hope that you will be happy with him,” he finished seemingly giving me his blessing.

“I think it was meant to be this way, don't you?” I ask, finally feeling my heart and my conscious lighten.

“I do,” he smiles before holding his hand out to me. “Friends?” he asks.

I nod clasping my hand in his, “Friends.”

“Let’s get you back to your fiancé before I find myself in a pile of ash on the floor,” Azriel chuckles, putting his hand on the door.

I laugh with him and when the door to the living room opens I find Lucien and Elain hugging.

My heart is caught in my throat as I realize that perhaps Lucien might’ve changed his mind. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. She was his true mate after all and, she was astonishingly beautiful. Maybe I was misled when Azriel and I settled our differences.

Both their heads whipped our way, and Lucien’s smile shined brightly. I was unsure of who that smile was for until he ran over to me, grabbing me by the hips and spinning me around.

“It is done,” Lucien cheered and out of the corner of my eye I saw Azriel throw an arm around Elain’s shoulders.

“What is?” I laughed once my feet were back on the ground.

“I don’t want to wait any longer. I want to call you my wife by sundown.” Lucien said affectionately.

“And why shouldn’t you wait? She’s a princess after all, you should snatch her up while you can,” Elain called out affectionately from Azriel’s side. I couldn’t help but look at the two of them standing there.

A hand snaked its way under my chin taking my attention to him before he planted his lips on mine. “Be mine, forever.” he proposed.

I couldn’t stop the smile that graced my face, “Okay,” I said quietly.

A cheer from Elain erupted behind me and suddenly it felt like all the pieces were falling into place, like everything I had ever wanted for myself had now come true.

The ceremony was short, just like Lucien and I had wanted. However, instead of an elopement it was a small gathering, Cass and Ness, Amren, Mor, Az and Elain and of course Rhys and Feyre were present. I wore my mothers dress and at some point Lu had slipped out to buy me a proper ring, not that I minded the old one.

The rest of the night was filled with drinking and frivolity. The whole family laughing and telling stories, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged with all of them, as I sat on my husband's lap. It wasn’t until many glasses of wine later that I found Lucien carrying me bridal style over the threshold of our home.

“This really isn’t necessary,” I laughed, holding a spare bottle of wine in my hand as he stepped through the doorway, the fireplace roaring to life.

“It’s traditional for a husband to carry his wife over the threshold of their home after the wedding.” he retorted, stepping inside the house and closing the door with his foot.

“For humans not for fae,” I corrected him as he finally set me down on slightly unsteady legs.

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to carry you,” he laughed, taking the wine from my hand and setting it on a side table by the door.

“You never need an excuse for that,” I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck.

“Well in that case,” he smirks before picking me up again and bounding up our stairs.

My feet don’t hit the floor until we’re in our room, his lips finding mine in an instant. With a wave of my hand I remove my dress, magically placing it back to wherever my dear brother found it. Lucien tossed his shirt over his head so that my hands might wander the plains of his toned chest. His hands find my hips pushing me away ever so slightly so that he can see me.

His eyes graze the expanse of my bare body and I’m suddenly frustrated by the fact that I’m the only one laid bare in the room.

“My wife,” he says, kissing my lips, pulling me closer. “My, beautiful, beautiful wife.” he kisses me again, smiling like he can’t help it.

I try to speak but he deepens the kiss once more, robbing me of words as he uses his body to overpower me with sheer force. His hands find my arse, giving it a squeeze before lifting my feet off the ground and tossing me onto our bed.

In a turn of events, my eyes wander the expanse of his body. Toned from years and years of training. His eyes sparkle with amusement and suddenly I feel like a sitting duck awaiting his mouth on me once more.

He falls onto the bed, hovering over me as he places yet another kiss on my lips. I use his imbalance to knee his hips towards the bed, my body weight pinning him beneath me as his eyes look up to me with pure lust. Large hands dance up my sides as if to encourage any next move I might make.

“My handsome, cunning, silver tongued husband,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his bare chest. My mouth trails over his chest, to his shoulders, and his collar bones. Needing every part of him on my lips. It isn’t until I get to his neck that he lets loose a groan and flips us back over.

“While I enjoy the sight of you pleasuring yourself on my cock wife, I shall be the one to take you tonight,” he smirks, biting my neck hard, no doubt trying to leave his mark there.

“Oh Lu,” I breathe, feeling my body come alive over his lips and wandering hands.

My eyes shoot open as I feel his breath hovering over my sex, the warmth causing my blood to burn.

“What a lucky male a I am to be able to taste this sweet cunt whenever I please,” he smiled mischievously before licking a stripe up my center.

I let out a breathy moan as he continues to lick and suck every inch of me. His hands parting my thighs warm and hard as he circles my clit with his tongue. My fingers thread through his hair pulling him impossibly close, earning a groan from him that reverberates through me.

“Like fucking honeysuckle,” he moans before trailing more kisses up my body.

I slink down moving towards where his cock peeks out of his untied breeches. Needing to feel the weight of him in my mouth, needing to hear the whimpers of pleasure on his tongue but he stops me.

“No not tonight,” he fusses pushing me back down into the mattress.

“But Lu-”

“No buts” he interrupts. “I want to pleasure my new wife tonight. Let me have that,” he moans silencing any protest I might have with a kiss as he slides home.

The all consuming feeling of being taken by him as me gasping for breath as my back arches off the bed. My tits rising towards his mouth and he easily grasps a hardened nipple between his lips, sucking eagerly.

“Lucien,” I breathe feeling him all around me.

“I love you,” he rasped, thrusting deeper. “My wife I love you.” he grunted watching where he slammed into me with intensity.

My hand came to cup his face bringing his eyes to mine. My fingers trace the scar over his golden eye as I see the emotion flood his russet colored eye. “I love you too, husband,” I whisper to him.

A gleam finds his eyes and he drives into me harder, the sound of skin slapping reverberating throughout the room. It was as if me uttering his new title spurred him on.

We’re a tangled mess of sweat slick limbs and ragged breaths as I feel him deeper and deeper inside of me. My nails scraping his back, trying to find purchase or something to anchor me as pleasure rips through my body. His pants become whimpers as I feel myself tightening around him.

“Always so perfectly tight,” he curses, driving through my tight heat.

His words are enough to have me falling apart under him, my legs shaking from pleasure as I cry his name.

“Lucien oh gods!” I cry, my hands no doubt leaving marks in his skin.

“That’s right my love, cum for me,” he groans before sputtering himself. “Fuck,” he mutters before I feel him burry his seed deep inside me.

His whimpers fill the space between my neck and shoulder as he finishes inside me. Once he’s spent he rolls over taking me with him so I’m cuddled into his side.

“I’m so unbelievably happy,” he whispers into the world, still coming down from his high.

“I’m told that’s often a side effect of an orgasm,” I laugh running a hand up and down his chest, soothing him.

“No,” he says breathlessly, turning so that he is hovering over me once more. “I’m unbelievably happy because of you. You have not only given me your love, but you’ve given me a house, and a family. I never thought I would have those things. You are… you are everything and I promise to be the most amazing husband I can be.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow.

“You already are,” I smile, pulling him into another heated kiss.

It would undoubtedly be like this for many years to come. However long the Cauldron allowed me to live, I knew I would always have a place here, with Lucien. And maybe things didn’t go as I had always planned, but gods was I happy, and more importantly I was loved.

Lucien Vanserra chose me, not because I was his mate, or because the world told him to. No, he chose me because he loved me, even when it wasn’t convenient for him, and I chose him too. I would choose him until the end of my days.

Epilogue: Five Years Later

“Careful my darling,” Lucien fussed, helping to lower me down onto a sofa.

“Lu I’m pregnant not fatally injured,” I laugh waving him away as I rest my hands on my ever growing bump.

“Of course, pregnancy is a walk in the park, I’ll remember that next time you beat me for serving you chocolate pancakes instead of blueberry,” he chides, pulling a blanket over my lap. “I spend a year telling myself you like blueberries and this little one comes along and all of the sudden you want chocolate.”

“Pregnancy cravings are no joke my friend,” Rhysand laughs from the adjacent couch. “I find it best to satisfy your wife’s cravings as soon as possible before she asks for another ridiculous request.”

“Especially when one’s wife is a princess,” Lucien teases, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“You married me!” I protest.

“And I thank the Cauldron every day that I did,” Lucien smiles, pressing a kiss to my lips finally.

Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)

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cybersunnie · 2 months

Text

So Divine ✶ Steve Harrington

18+ / MDNI — literally just smut w/ some fluff, f!reader, petnames (sweetheart, baby) got inspired by @/season4steve's comments (wc: 1k)

Steve was a gentle lover.

Compliments, spontaneous gifts, late-night calls because he wanted to hear your voice before bed. He was always soft and sweet with you, all boyish charm and smiles.

With his parents out of town again, you and Steve had the house all to yourselves. It started innocently. A movie night at his place, cuddling on the couch, the light touch on your hip growing more greedy as the night went on. You tried to ignore it, eyes trained on the screen, but you were still all too aware of his glances and smirks that meant no good.

Your efforts were pointless.

The cheesy horror flick Steve had mindlessly picked out at work turned into background noise when he leaned in and kissed you slow, testing the waters. Your lips melted between his, warmth blossoming in your chest, your skin tingling. Whispers of I want you filled your ears, and you were suddenly putty in his hands—a mindless thing made of flesh and bones.

One thing led to another, and the both of you stumbled up the stairs and to his bedroom, giggling into the other’s mouth.

Your curves and edges, and his scars and birthmarks.

Steve had you pinned beneath him, his sheets wrinkled and a mess, clothes discarded and forgotten. You gasped so prettily for him, your face crumbling with ecstasy every time his hips snapped forward to meet yours, the slow drag of his cock making your head spin.

Even as he took you, Steve was nothing but gentle. Every kiss and touch ghosted over your skin like he was afraid to hurt you.

As if you were a delicate flower, each limb a petal he wanted to preserve, to dote on.

“You’re so pretty,” he rasped out, his nose nudging yours, urging you to look at him.

You keened, cheeks burning, eyes hazy with pleasure. How Steve looked at you was overwhelming—like you were the only good thing in the world.

"Yeah? You like being my pretty girl?"

You nodded and held him tighter, not wanting this to end. Your nails dug into his back, the crescent indents adding to his constellation of moles and freckles.

With Steve, all you saw were stars.

His gaze softened, a crinkle between his brows. "I know you do," he murmured, ducking his head down and kissing your jaw. Steve felt you shiver, your cunt squeezing his cock, snug and warm. He fought the urge to bite your shoulder as he buried himself deeper inside of you. "Fuck, sweetheart. You're killing me."

You wondered if Steve knew how much control he had over you. If he knew that his voice made everything around you feel light. If he knew that, in your mind, he embodied the night sky.

That he was timeless. Divine. A mysterious beauty.

He deserved to know.

But your voice was gone, the words stuck in your throat. The knot in your stomach grew tighter. The inevitable inched closer. You could only utter a meek whimper of his name with your fingers digging into his flesh.

Steve pulled his face from your neck and looked at you, stilling himself. “What, baby?”

He sounded so concerned, so sincere—it just made you want him more.

You whined and pressed the heels of your feet against his ass, begging him to move, to keep fucking you. Thankfully, Steve took the hint, pulling out a few inches before pushing back in, his heart swelling with pride when you whimpered.

Steve knew you were close. He could fucking feel it.

"Keep squeezing me like that—holy shit," Steve groaned, almost whining, as your cunt pulsated around his cock. "You're close, huh? You gonna come for me?"

Overwhelmed, you shut your eyes. It was too much. Steve's body flushed with yours, your ears buzzing, your heart pounding so hard it rattled your ribcage—it was all too much.

And Steve noticed. He always noticed.

Soft and soothing, he whispered your name and grasped your chin, your skin warming under his fingertips.

"Look at me."

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes. Steve smiled the same smile that swept you off your feet the first time you met him. He leaned his forehead against yours, his usual sweet brown eyes hardened with lust, with the desire to please you.

"There we go," Steve murmured, kissing your lips. He let go of your chin and moved his hand, his large palm enveloping the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, your brows drawing tightly together as Steve kept fucking you nice and slow. "You still with me, yeah?"

You nodded, mind-numbing.

"Yeah," he cooed, his mouth hovering over yours, breaths mingling. A pitiful whine escaped you, and he swallowed it with another kiss. "You're okay. You're doing so good."

It was all tangled heat and longing. Your hands trailed into his hair, soft and roots drenched with sweat. Mouths hung open, moans and gasps, your hearts becoming one.

Steve grunted, head dipping down into the crook of your neck, his hips rocking into yours. "C'mon, baby, give it to me."

You were at his mercy, unprotected, bare of armor.

The knot snapped.

Pleasure erupted in the pit of your belly and wrecked through you. You cried out his name in gasps and moans, your legs locking around his waist, fingers tugging at his hair. Steve whimpered as if he was wounded, his thrusts faltering, tongue swirling over your pulse points, and teeth nipping at your skin.

Wrapped up in the other and your sweaty limbs entangled, the intensity died down, heavy breaths filling the air. Neither of you moved—a silent agreement to stay connected a little longer.

"I love you," Steve whispered, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw until he reached your mouth. He stared at you with adore-filled eyes, his cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from your own doing. "I love you so much."

Through your haze, you grinned, fingers sowing through his hair, "I love you more."

Steve snorted, shaking his head. "Impossible."

author's note: yay i finally finished something!!!!! it had been such a long time since i wrote smut so i'm sorry if this wasn't up to par LMAO but i love me some soft and sappy sex

anyways i hope you enjoyed this!!! tysm for reading! <3

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #✶ — sunnie writes st!#✶ — steve harrington

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cntloup · 2 months

Text

one-night stand You can't resist Simon's unintentional charm mention of trauma, thoughts of getting killed

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Your friends notice your gaze occasionally drifting onto something afar as you try to engage in their conversation.

There's a tall burly figure standing by the bar, holding a glass of bourbon while his elbow rests on the counter.

There's something subtly alluring about him, exuding masculinity and gruffness.

And there’s a hint of pain in his eyes, a heavy weight on his shoulders, you come to notice as your gaze lingers on him through the night.

And you feel each one of the scars adorning his face and hands has a story behind it.

He has a story, you think to yourself.

He has noticed the set of eyes on him long before he decides to finally give you some attention.

He just didn’t think much of it before since he deemed you harmless, used to the gazes and glares of strangers.

And finally his eyes meet yours, profound stare burning through your soul, his intense glare melting you as the bright shining sun, but you can’t bring yourself to look away.

And you find yourself gravitating more and more towards him as you take each step in his direction as if enchanted by a siren’s song.

Until you’re inches away from him, your eyes locked onto each other, neither of you daring to look away as if you do, the other person will disappear.

You both feel the captivating pull, the igniting flames between you and you both feel like you have found what you were looking for all your lives.

His hand comes up to softly caress your cheek and he leans in until his lips are beside your ear, “Your place or mine, love?” he murmurs, voice low and dark, sending a wave of shivers down your body and making the aching heat between your legs almost unbearable.

“Whichever’s closer.” you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper like he has knocked the air out of your lungs by his mere presence.

And you find yourself on his bed, mewling and whimpering under his bulky weight as he rolls his hips into yours, reaching far deep inside you like you could never even imagine, like no other man could ever reach.

He tenderly kisses your body, your skin so delicate and soft under his rough hands and scarred lips.

Your mind is lost in a euphoric haze as he treads the line of fucking and making love, balancing the contradicting notions like no other man ever could.

He fucks you like no other man ever could, the sweet ache lingering on your body and in your mind the day after, long after you have left.

And his mind is encompassed by you, his senses captivated by your allure, beauty and grace.

He reaches out again. He found the piece of paper with your number on it on the pillow the day after. He simply can’t stay away from you anymore.

He spent a long time struggling with himself, wrestling with the thoughts of getting closer to you,

knowing fully well how the people who get close to him end up and the thought of you ending up with a bullet in your head like the rest of his family replay in his mind,

the doubt in his heart that whether or not he will be a good partner at all gnaw at him constantly.

He knows that he’s no good for you, you deserve far better than him.

But he knows you want him too, the ghost of your tender touch and fiery kiss still present on his skin, etched onto his soul.

And he's been the only thing occupying your mind all this time, utterly enamored by him.

And your heart nearly skips a beat as your phone rings with an unknown number, hoping that it’s him.

new series?👀

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senualothbrok · 3 months

Text

Mortal pleasures

Summary: Gale has shown you how gods bond in the astral. Now, you show him how good mortal pleasures can be.

Word count: 2.1k

AO3 link

Disclaimers: NSFW. 18+. Smut. Gale x female Tav/reader.

More disclaimers: Oral sex (blow job). Vaginal fingering.

A/N: This fic is long overdue, because I am a Gale-deserves-a-blow-job truther. Dedicated to @practicallydeadinside-blog who I love more than words can describe!

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

“And that’s how I got this baby.” Karlach smacks the scar on her right thigh with a grin.

You nod absently. You can barely make out the jests that roar around your companions, their faces illuminated only by the campfire you huddle around on this spring night. Your focus is on him alone.

Gale’s gaze is sharp and hot, his lips curled in a sideways smile. He tilts his head ever so slightly. You do not move your eyes from him. It does not escape you, the dart of his tongue through the briefest parting of his mouth. You bite your lip.

Astarion coughs, slapping his knees as he rises. “And with that revolting tale, I think it’s time for us all to clear off.”

“What?” Karlach whines. “Already? Boooo…”

“Take a hint, darling,” Astarion drawls. “I’ve had enough of whatever this is.” He makes a gesture of distaste towards you and Gale.

You flush. Astarion chortles.

“Enjoy the magic, but please keep it down. We know how…verbose…the two of you can be.”

You shrink at the winks, grumbles and jostling of the rest of your companions as they file away to their respective tents. It was wishful thinking to hope they were not aware of your time with Gale the night before, when your souls bonded in the astral. To think that they could not see how both of you had been transformed by the experience.

There is a chill in the air, but your core flames. There is no embarrassment in Gale’s eyes. Only the raw heat of desire.

“Alone at last,” he breathes.

Tonight, he is unusually quiet. He lets his actions speak. You barely make it to his tent. He wraps his arms around you from behind, unlacing the straps of your bodice with uncanny speed. Your struggle for breath as his deft fingers clutch at your breasts, your shoulders, your hips. You have been waiting all day for this moment. To be with him, to have him all to yourself. To give yourself to him again.

You grind backwards against his thrumming body, aching for more of his touch. He clasps your chin to angle your neck back, as if he is starving to see your face. Your tongues glide against each other, frantic with hunger, a frenzy of moans. He tastes sweet and strong, like aged wine, and you cannot get enough. You can never have enough of him.

“I didn’t lie,” you whisper when you break apart to breathe. “You’re a good kisser.”

He smiles against your lips before he plunges back in, lapping eagerly at your wet warmth. You are drunk from his musk, the sourness of sweat, the smoothness of sandalwood. You are not careful as you whip open his robe, shoving his sleeves down his arms, pushing them desperately down. You need to see him. You need to feel and smell and taste every inch of his quivering flesh.

He lets out a little laugh, surprised, not displeased. Then, with one swift motion, he wrenches your breeches off your quaking legs. You gasp at the force of it, the smouldering in his eyes. His fingers dive behind your panties, already damp with desire. He almost rips them off.

“I want to show you more,” he pants. “Everything you could possibly imagine. Let me show you.”

A crackle of blue thread sizzles between his fingers. A spasm of bliss tears through you like lightning, sending you gasping for breath. You burn for more of it. But you steel yourself.

Since your night together, you have not been able to get the idea out of your mind. You have been ravenous for it. And now is your chance.

You pull back.

“No.”

Gale falters, the blue light of his magic fading into the purple of his glowing chest. You press against him again, licking at his bottom lip, gently sucking it into your mouth. He buckles against you.

“No?”

You smile, teasing but resolute.

“Yesterday, you showed me how to bond the way gods do.”

Your hand trails down his abdomen, following the hairs that meander from his navel to his groin. His breath hitches. He hangs on your every word, your every move. You are not a wizard or a sorcerer, but he is under your spell.

“Today, I want to show you how good mortal pleasures can be.”

His eyes flash. Before he can object, you push him downwards and back, so that he is reclined on his bed roll. Uncertainty blinks across his features as you pull his briefs down to expose the thrust of his cock. You clench your thighs as a string of moisture trickles from your folds.

He stares at you on your knees by his side. You lean forward, taking hold of his shaft, so thick and long in your small hands. Dark pink and purpling, veins drifting down to a wiry nest framed by the muscles of his lean thighs. You wet your lips. His cock pulses in your fingers, a bead spilling from its tip as he exhales sharply.

“Gods,” he heaves.

You bend over. You are acutely aware of the way his body is suspended in the anticipation of pleasure. You can feel it vibrate, chasing after your touch. The tent is awash in his purple flame. You flare with yearning as you flick your tongue into his slit, gathering this first trace of his salty sweetness. He arches his back and groans.

“Has anyone ever done this to you?”

Your tongue traces a slow, winding stripe down the underside of his cock. He trembles. You look up at him, mouth open, eyes wide and expectant.

He swallows. “A long time ago. Once, when I was very young. It was…quick. Clumsy. Messy.”

You suspected this might be the case. There was no way Mystra would have ever lowered herself to give Gale such a human gift, and you cannot imagine Gale asking any lover for such raw, unbridled ecstasy. It makes you even more desperate. You want nothing more than to give this to him now.

“We’ll rectify that.”

You drag your tongue in a smooth circle at the base of his cock. He stifles a whine as his hips roll closer to your mouth. Gale’s longing is so palpable that it throbs wet and hot within you. But when you look up, he is frowning. He reaches towards you.

“My love,” he huffs. “You really don’t need to-”

You anticipated this. Gale prides himself on giving, not receiving. He never asks, for fear of being turned away. He cannot fathom that anyone would get on their knees to show him their adoration. That anyone would ache to give him this most mortal of pleasures.

“I want to, Gale.”

You take his straying hand and run your mouth over his palm. His eyelids flutter as your tongue flickers softly over the pads of his fingers.

“I want to taste you. I want to show you how good this feels. Please let me show you.”

It is not completely selfless. You have been dreaming of doing this to Gale since you shared a moment in the Weave. You enjoy this act much more than he knows. He will find out just how much you enjoy it.

He grasps for a response and fails. For an instant, you savour the sight of Gale rendered speechless by your designs. Then you resume your position, your face tilted upwards beside his growing hardness. You can see him unravelling at the sight of it resting against your cheek, hovering beside the shining plumpness of your lips. His brown eyes are almost black, dilated in a stupor of need.

“Or does this not feel good?”

He lets out a guttural moan as you slide his cock into your mouth. Your lips tighten around his girth as you roll your tongue around its head. You pump forward and backwards, once, twice, three times. With each stroke, waves of molten heat blaze through your centre, your clit swelling against your folds as you rock. Moisture trails down your chin as you draw back and look up at him.

“Do you like that?”

The sound that escapes his lips is a muffled plea. His face is flushed, helpless, urgent.

You grin. His back bows as you take him back inside you. You take your time, drawing out his pressure points, feeling for the rhythm of his pleasure. The slick sounds of you lapping and sucking at his cock fill the tent as you drive his length deeper and faster into you. Something about these wet, gulping noises makes you suddenly, overwhelmingly voracious.

“By the gods…”

You cannot decipher all the words that start tumbling from Gale now. You glide hungrily down to the hilt of his cock, thrusting it against the back of your mouth. Small bursts of his pleasure trickle down your throat like nectar as he shifts and sighs. Every blast of his yearning pools like lava in your belly. You whimper into his shaft, your hips grinding down into the bedroll, searching frantically for release.

As the storm surges within you, you realise that his groans are growing louder and closer together. You can feel him hardening, stretching your jaw with each tremor of your arousal. He fills you up so completely, there is almost no space for breath. You are famished, gorging yourself on him.

You are abruptly aware of urgent fingers pressing between your thighs, demanding entrance. You sit up, turning to face him.

“Allow me,” he rasps.

You shake your head, trying to push his hand away. He does not budge.

“Please. Can you not tell what your pleasure does to me?” His gaze is ravenous. “Let me. Please.”

It was not your intention to allow it. You were to give and not receive. But you are powerless to resist as his fingers nestle into your gleaming folds. When he finds your throbbing clit, you crumple against him. His groin rises to meet you, his cock twitching at your undoing. You suck him back into your mouth with a needy cry.

You do not need a tadpole to know each other’s feelings now. You can taste the hardness of his desire, as he can feel the wetness of yours.

You shudder against each other as the world becomes a chaos of purple spasms. All you know is the whirling of your tongue around the head of his cock as he traces frenzied circles around the centre of your fire. A hot stream of slick melts between your thighs as he bucks against you. You can no longer distinguish between his moans and yours.

As his fingers flutter in their maddening dance, your mouth quickens to match his speed. You are aware of his muscles tightening as you grind against his hand, rubbing at every coiled nerve until it is ready to snap. Your whines are muffled vibrations against his skin. He lurches and keens as you lap and slide up and down his shaft with increasing fury, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Then the ache within you explodes.

The world shatters into blinding shockwaves of white heat. It is all you can do to keep your mouth wrapped tightly around his swelling cock, your only anchor as you drown in the searing surges of your pleasure. As you writhe through the aftershocks, you feel a convulsion down his chest, snapping through his hips, jolting at the back of your throat.

He shouts out a strangled sound, his toes curling, his free hand clinging to the side of the bedroll. You quiver as the taste of Gale fills your mouth. You swallow each rush of his delight as he rides out the peak of his climax, his features twisting in the beautiful anguish of release.

You remain in that position as your breathing returns to normal. Slowly, your vision clears. His cock is still half hard and glistening as you part from it. You brush away drops of his spend from your lips and chin as you sit up, steadying yourself.

He looks up at you from where he lies panting, his tousled waves a tumble around his head. His face is radiant with passion. His chiselled abdomen heaves with the exhaustion of bliss. The mark on his chest glows a muted violet.

“That was…”

He has no words for the experience. His gaze is bright with awe, gratitude, adoration. Swollen with love. It glints with desire, still pure and unquenched.

You beam. “That’s how mortals do it.”

He pulls you into his arms with a throaty laugh.

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

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poetslastdeath · 3 months

Text

john and higher ranking reader (i don’t specify the current day rank but it’s very much implied to be higher than his)

heavy hints of dom reader, fem leaning reader this time (couldn’t choose so i flipped a coin and went with fem), cute and short

—————————

reader and john who have known each other since you were just recruits, both grown from hyper soldiers with stars in your eyes to stoic war hardened soliders with more scars than freckles, have known the deafening sound of gunshots longer than you knew compassion.

his youth died years after yours did, you were already a lieutenant then being looked up at by a fumbling yet smooth sergeant price. always a step behind you, always filling the silent air between you too, unrelenting and bright as a dying sun. you wanted to protect that, hold it close, hold and cradle that fire for a little longer until the winds picked up and blew it all away.

it did either way, you watched then left.

better to let him sit alone then look far too close at you, at everything you’ve done, at how you could so easily hurt him but didn’t it every time. look at that stupid thing foolishly named love.

the twin old decaying thing is your chests, some may call it innocence but one far wiser than anyone should be would call it humanity. so you drifted, climbed the ranks, making it farther than a younger you could have guessed. you and john met sparsely after that.

however something always lingered, something else between you two though it only actually played out a few times when it boiled over, usually his poor knees took the brunt of those encounters. some could call it love or lust or they could call it two far too damaged people who cave into each other like waves crashing against rocks. calloused hand in calloused hand.

john, who gets himself into trouble— on the way over you can only sigh without surprise, he was hotheaded in his twenties but now he’s as slow and burning as molten lava— and has to call in a favor to bail him and his team out.

and when you walk in, you’re the only one that notices his slight stutter of breath, chest aching with heavy lingering smoke. it’s like the gravity around you pulls, the world twisting to meet your every step, and eyes are snapped over to you and held like they can do nothing else.

then that’s when the 141 boys know the now slightly deflated shepherd and graves stand no chance.

and they don’t, they fold because they can do nothing against the raspy honey of your voice, it’s allure sounding like a spiders web, thinly veiled poison dripping from cracked lips.

it doesn’t take long, not when you tilt your head as shepherd freezes so still he looks like a statue when you start naming dates and times. insignificant to anyone else, but you know. he knows. anyone could see the threats laid like bear traps behind your words.

and with a fake barely there smile, shepherd and his mutt leave with the slamming of the door.

it’s tense, not quite as tense as when shepherd was in the room, but it’s still like the rest of them don’t quite know what to do with you now, turning to look at their captain then at their lieutenant when john’s eyes are locked on the side of your head.

you look over, meeting his gaze with heavy unreadable eyes, knowing far too well now that keeping emotions in your eyes is the fastest way to having someone kill the light in them.

“thank you, love.” he rasps, you raise an eyebrow and he pauses. glancing away to consider his next steps from here.

“ma’am. thank you, ma’am” he corrects smoothly like he had never said anything else, so naturally that it makes you want to hear his low rough tone whisper it on repeat until he can’t speak.

you nod, eyes flickering over to his team. “hm, pleasure to help.”

they shift, uncomfortable and clearing untrusting of your heavy calculating stare. though you hardly mean to, by now it’s hard to help yourself from making observations almost idly, like how the one you know is “ghost” stands far closer with one of the men then the other one.

you look away from them and back over at john, you shift your weight from one foot to the other and turn in his direction. he follows every movement carefully with shadowed deep eyes.

“i’m done here. you can clear up your own mess, can’t you?” you hear one of his boys shuffle before a hand is placed on his arm in a tight grip, like he was seconds away yelling. you pay no mind to it, far to busy for a puppy’s biting at your ankle.

“i’ll send you a gift.” you pause, watching john again. “a little something about shepherd so his leash should shorten.”

he exhales, careful and slow. you don’t quite know what he’s thinking, no matter how good you’ve gotten he’s also improved.

“thank you, ma’am” he repeats, tilting his head forward. you smile, walking forward, glancing at the clock behind him.

you mumble, “hm, call me if you need me further.”

and when you pass him, you lean over to whisper in his ear, words carefully crafted just for him. “oh and if you want something, then ask for it, baby.”

his shaky exhale tells you everyone you need to know. the door shutting behind you is perfectly timed with his mind sliding back into captain mode.

it’s a pity, he’s far prettier when he isn’t in control.

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dmitriene · 3 months

Text

THOUGHTS ABOUT SIMON GETTING HIS NIPPLES PIERCED BY YOU.

cw: fluff, comfort, little suggestive possibly, piercing, mild description of blood, possible lack of dialogues, hints of strangers to lovers, simon is a tease, may be ooc simon, bit of tension. pairing: simon ghost riley x piercer fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

the tart aroma of wood and coffee, the crackle of disposable gloves, things that routine of work in a tattoo and piercing parlor brings with itself, a designated place with large, wide, blacked out windows, located along the street, in general view, but without too much influx of visitors.

quiet and calm routine, filled with warm conversations with colleagues and people leaving and coming, someone to do something new, someone to redo something old, everyone in one way or another gathers in this small, but warm and bright place.

at least that's how it was, until a figure appeared in the parlor, casting a wide shadow in the room and causing all conversations and movements to lead to the halt.

a broad body to match the tall stature, prominent muscles tight but not completely under a black clothes and a balaclava that causes both misunderstanding and slight fear, black fabric with a skull pattern revealing only the dark beads of the eyes, which seizing the room with quick glance before going to the reception.

he looks like one of those men who come to the salon for a tattoo session, something memorable for them, the names of comrades, important names and numbers associated with the army, exactly, guys resembling him often serve in the army, but if they are usually bright and cheerful youngsters, then this one is a breath of darkness so thick, that you can't see anything behind.

— “not my business anyway, he's here likely to have a tattoo, and he's already have one„ you're comforting yourself in your head, after all, you're doing piercings, and he's obviously come to get another tattoo, maybe dilute the already existing sleeve of skulls, or something on the other arm, definitely not for you, so you keep yourself busy cleaning your workplace, ignoring the literal storm behind your back.

— “i'm here for a piercing appointment, nipples, called abou' a week ago„

and that's the tipping point when you can't ignore the elephant in the room, you jerk your head just as he turns around and shamelessly looks at you, from head to toe and back in a burning path that makes you shiver, squinting his bottomless eyes until small wrinkles form, while your colleague behind the wooden counter points at you, letting him know that you are indeed his master for today, and he came for you.

— “simon„ he introduced himself with a hoarse chuckle when you addressed him with unexpected respect, «sir» you called him, asking him to lift his shirt to expose his chest, to which he complied without further words, flexing his biceps with next movements.

simon leans back on a leather, hydraulic chair, spreading his muscular legs, as he lift his shirt, exposing the pale skin with a scattering of scars of all kinds, a picture that confirms your suspicions that he belongs to the army, but you dare not mutter, nor ask a single question, on the contrary of how you usually do, only preparing the needle and silently stand in front of him.

he doesn't twitch or hiss when the needle first pierces the sensitive buds, causing them to harden visibly, pale pink in contrast to the fair skin that lets out small drops of blood that you gently wipe as you touch the fresh piercings, and he doesn't even raise an eyebrow, but stares intently at your downcasted eyes.

the metal jewelry gleams slightly under the white light, playing against the background of his skin in a mixed way, he looks even more intimidating with them, but also adding a touch of something hot to his look, seductive, thoughts that you quickly brush away with a nervous flick of your tongue over your slightly parched lips.

— “that's, umh.. that's all, we're finished„ you let him know, trying to control the frown of your eyebrows, the strange struggle with your own emotions as he hides the fresh piercing behind the black fabric of his tight shirt and stands up, giving you a gentle nod and a seemingly unleavened squint.

he pays in front of the same counter that you can watch from your workplace, taking out the pre-rolled cash and giving it to your colleague, before leaving as unexpectedly as he came.

that's when you remember that you didn't give him your contact number.

of course, if something really happens to his piercing in the future, he can find your contact details through the number of parlor himself, but your feet carry you to the exit faster than rational thoughts, the cardboard card is tightly clenched in your hand as you unlock the heavy door, and practically slam into his back.

simon is just in time lighting the tip of his cigarette with a lighter, pursing his pale, thin lips into a line, showing the lower part of his face with a balaclava raised to his nose, turning at you with raised eyebrows, hiding the lighter in his pocket and exhaling a puff of smoke, tilting his head to the side questioningly, until you hand him an embarrassedly crumpled business card.

— “my.. my number.. if something would happen to the piercings, or if you'll have questions, you know..„

you hurriedly explain, as if making excuses, denying the strange attraction that pulls you to this stranger, and his lips part in a wide grin, showing a row of his light teeth and fangs, before he reaches out his broad hand and with a fleeting brush of his fingers against yours, takes the business card, hoarsely, amusingly adding — “of course, don'' worry, lass, i'll call you if something, eh?„

after which, he walks away, showing you his broad, gradually disappearing back, leaving you on the threshold of parlor with a strange, unsettling sensation at the bottom of your chest.

but he'll call you, for sure, maybe he'll have to take them off when he gets back to base for a mission, ask if you can check if the piercings are closed up, maybe he'll even lose the jewelry, but his legs will definitely lead him back to you, or he'll dare to do something more risky with his body, just to feel your warm hands all over his body and even between his legs.

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luvt0kki · 4 months

Text

INTERLUDE | OPENING SEQUENCE

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

This scene that locked me up The sequence that's like forever Stay for me, stay for me, stay for me I can't get used to it, used to it, used to it

🎧: Opening Sequence - TXT

previous | INTERLUDE | next

pairings: ot8 x f!reader (san x reader)

w.c : 10k ( im sorry for any errors)

cw: mature, ,minors do not interact, nsfw, reader is afab, slow burn, polyamory, smut , bittersweet, angst, MC's background is inspired by Black Widow's background with the Red Room, reader is called sweet heart/baby, hints of abuse/manipulation, mc’s past, mention of their training days, injuries, scars, loss of virginity, first time, very very very longgggggg chapter I’m sorry

REMINDER: my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n : surprise? SPECIAL CHAPTER!!!! I hope you guys like this one. I didn’t initially plan to write this but after posting chapter 005 I wanted to write something different or something else and this came about. I hope you guys like. Thank you for being so patient with me 🥺💗

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

“How long do you think before they find us here?”

The young assassin paused, his heart dropping. Never has he ever heard you, YOU, out of all the graduated students of the Academy, sound like this.

You were always so sure of yourself but now, he was hearing a completely different person yet so familiar. When was the last time he heard you like this? He was quick to recall it and that ache in his chest began to feel as if he was burning from the inside. This small, unsure, and weak voice belonged to the little girl he grew up with before the academy changed everything and he never heard you like this again.

Til today.

He was scared to turn around.

If your own resolve was shaking then the situation was worse than he thought.

San shook his head and continued to look around the padded room looking for any signs of a possible escape. Even if you two did get out, you two would have nothing but your knives and your fists.

“No one’s going to come for us, aren’t they Sannie?” You choked out his nickname so softly, that he felt his heart broke. “At the end of the day…” you went on, the fears of a little girl that San had failed to protect breaking through the facade the Academy molded and chiseled you in. “I’m just one of their many weapons. The other girls in the Academy…they’re good. Better. I will be of no use soon.”

San’s hands were beginning to tremble uncontrollably as he reloaded the gun. You were the Academy’s proudest creation, you had set the standard. Though those things were true, these were your fears. They were just as real.

“We’ve sent a Morse code to them. They’ll find us soon. They won’t let you go as easily.” San swallowed the lump in his throat trying to maintain composure and not let the impending doom of you both get to him.

What made him sadder was that he was right. The Academy won’t let you go. You were chained to them in a way, he wasn’t.

“Sannie…”

They could afford to lose him. He was a part of the top three of those who graduated with him but he wasn’t the first of the batch.

“They’ll come for you.”

The room that confined you two was dim. The skylight let some moonlight shine through to illuminate what it could in the darkness you two were submerged in. Did your captors really believe the Academy would buy their ransom for two of their assassins? They would come with a brute force that would leave them nothing in ashes. If no one came for the two of you, they’ll kill you both or worse, sell the two of you off to the market.

San would kill them before they even thought of selling you as a slave.

“Sannie, it’s cold.”

His composure broke then.

Gone was the weapon the Academy created.

Without any hesitation, San went to where you had been sitting (on the white sheet mattress in the room they threw you two in) then pulled you onto his lap with his arms wrapped around you. Your skin was cold to the touch and his desperation to hold you only grew. He cradled you so gently in his arms, scared that if he embraced you tighter you’d shatter.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, resting his chin on the top of your head as he kept his gaze up, fighting back tears and the urge to press his lips on the the crown of your head. “I’m here. I'm not going anywhere.”

You were taught to never take anyone’s words seriously. Always doubt them, they once said. Doubt them until they prove it because you can never know what they mean and yet, you believed every word San said.

Every promise he has ever made, he kept them. Everything he said he would do, he did. But even if he didn’t prove to be a man of his word, the part of you that you pushed in the dark, would believe him blindly.

His strong arms held you in a way you never knew you needed to be held and the warmth of his body was giving you, melted away the armor you didn’t have the luxury to take off.

“Sannie,”

He loved it when you called him Sannie. Since you two met, he was your Sannie. If you asked him now, just once, to be yours, he’d be yours forever.

“Yeah?” He caressed your back in gentle circles, taking note of how your shivering lessened and your breathing calmed.

You didn’t continue your thought. It got stuck in your throat. How could you possibly say what you wanted to? Instead, you opted to bury your face into his neck. You’ll think about it for a bit…because what if it was the wrong time to say it?

“Can I hold your hand?”

Your voice was such a soft whisper, that San almost didn’t hear it. It was like you were embarrassed to have even asked, even though he’s held your hand so many times in secret during your training days when it was an evaluation day.

San hummed in response and carefully, still cradling you in his lap with your head leaning on his chest, slipped his hand with yours. He stared at your hands as he did. His hand was bigger than yours and his heart dropped when he realized you had taken off your gloves. Such delicate hands were bruised at the knuckles and hands that only ever touched or brushed him so gently.

He knew in your head you could only see how stained your arms were with blood.

“Your hands are cold,” he pointed out, pouting a little at the fact and like he did when you were younger, he took both your hands and brought them close to his mouth to breathe warmth into them.

You felt your heart thump particularly strong in your chest. The feelings you’ve had for San that you had hidden away because you were told you could never be loved nor love for you were only a weapon, returned.

Because you are a weapon, you would only ever hurt the people you love.

“How are you so warm?” You chuckled, falling into a comfort you denied yourself for so long. “If I remember correctly, you were such a small petite thing when we were younger. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it past the selection.”

He laughed softly at the memory. “I didn’t want to be left behind. I need to be with you no matter what.” He let himself speak freely and honestly, letting his hands warm yours.

“I would’ve purposely failed if that was the case. I wouldn’t want to continue on without you.” You admitted, feeling the ache of your muscles finally hit you.

“They would’ve known if you did.”

“That’s true.”

“I would catch up to you no matter what. To be by your side…” San paused, afraid to say what he wanted to in fear that you may not feel the same. “For a long time, I believe that’s where I belong.”

His words caught you off guard. Did Sannie know? Did he know that you loved him? There was no way he could but the possibility of attraction between the two of you could not be ruled out so easily. It was there. You both knew it. You two just never spoke of it.

“Do you still believe that?” You asked, feeling a little braver and desperate.

What if this was it? It had been four days since the enemy got the upper hand and immobilized you and San and sealed you two up in this room. What if the Academy did abandon you both? Weapons are replaceable.

“I’m here with you now, aren’t I?”

He’s always been there.

You lifted your head off his shoulder to gaze up at him.

Gone was the little boy you worried about whenever you two trained separately. The one who was easily thrown and bullied around by his much stronger contenders. You were afraid of losing him even then because you had wondered why someone with such a gentle heart could ever hurt people. For goodness sake, he continued to let himself get beaten up just because one of the much younger trainees out of desperation and hunger, stole a piece of roasted sweet potato.

Before you now was a man. San still had the handsomeness he’s had since he was younger except it matured and bloomed into sharp features and a striking beauty that lost all the softness of his younger self. His body was no longer frail and sickly. His back and shoulders became broad, lean muscles had grown and given him more shape that reminded you of the prowess of a black panther.

But when he smiled.

He was the Sannie you cared for and loved so deeply…so quietly.

“Can you promise me something?” You asked, feeling your heart begin to ache.

“Anything for you.” He smiled softly down at you and you wished he hadn’t because it’d made your heart want him even more.

“If we get out of this alive…” you felt tears begin to form in your eyes. “Promise me you’ll leave the academy.”

“Y/N—,” he began to protest, sitting up a little bit you shushed him gently and changed your positions.

You cupped his face gently with your hands and looked straight into his eyes.

“When we get out of here, you need to disappear. Leave this life behind.”

San has never seen you cry since the Selection. Your eyes which were usually blank and cold, and that only ever warmed when you looked at him were glassy with tears and there was fear in them. Pure fear and hurt.

“P-please, Sannie. Leave the Academy.”

Why were you asking him something so difficult?

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.” You were begging him now, your hot tears falling onto his beautiful face. His eyes were so gentle as they looked up at you.

“Don’t ask me of this, Y/N.” He tried to be stern to mask the breaking of his heart. “You know I can’t do that!” He wrapped his arms around your waist. “I can’t. I can’t…I can’t.” His voice was trembling, both your fears breaking you down.

“Do it for me, Sannie.” You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, fighting the urge to kiss the beauty mark on his upper cheek. “If one of us gets to be free, it should be you.”

“That’s not fair, Y/N.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck while his other hand brought your leg to be able to wrap around him, consumed by the need to be close to you. He pressed your forehead against his.

“We both deserve to live. If we’re talking about who should be free, it should be you.” He said through gritted teeth, still not letting all his composure go. How could you think so little of your life? “You’re not a weapon.”

He took your hand and placed it over where his heart would be. “We both have hearts that beat. We both have tears to cry. You breathe just like I do. You feel just like I do…you can love just like I do.”

San’s words echoed in your head, they rang like an alarm as those words breached the codes that the Academy programmed into you.

You couldn’t think straight. None of you could.

‘You can love just like I do.’

Could you, really?

Your bleary eyes searched San’s glimmering onyx orbs. You were scared to find nothing but conviction and such surety that made you believe him that you could. The hope in his eyes frightened you.

You didn’t know how to love. You only assumed to know that love was a precious emotion you could never have. The Academy said love was a weakness but all the training and programming they did, seemed to not exist at this very moment. Neither did it for San.

Well in his case, you had always been his exception to every rule. He’d break rules, laws, and bones for you.

“I don’t know if I can,” you sobbed softly. The fact you don’t even know how to love makes you feel as if you weren’t human.

Love was different from lust. You knew that. Everyone, even those under the Academy, had needs and everyone was left to handle it themselves as long as it didn’t compromise their abilities or get in the way of missions.

To put it simply, they just fucked for the feeling of it.

But no one touched you. You wouldn’t let it happen. You couldn’t. The other girls were nice enough to tell you how to do it yourself and you wondered if San has ever needed to get those needs out of the way…and the thought of who it could’ve been with made your chest ache at the thought.

“You can.” He smiled, so soft and gentle, it made you wonder if anyone else in the galaxy could look at you that way. So fondly and not the monster and killer you really were.

San held your hand that was against his heart tightly, still smiling up at you so sweetly you didn’t think you could handle that look. It was so foreign to you.

“Y/N, if you’ll let me,” San didn’t care anymore. If you two were going to die tomorrow and if he was going to do as you made him promise, he’d hold you and speak as if this was his last night in this life. “Let me make you feel. It doesn’t have to be love. But please, let me make you truly feel.”

You knew you could say no and it would be okay. All your time in the Academy, you realized the only time you ever felt safe was when you were with San. You didn’t have to keep your guard up with him and you didn’t have to lie to him.

Throwing all caution out the window and focusing on San, just him, you exhaled softly, unaware that you had been holding your breath.

“O-okay.” You held his face softly once more, telling yourself he was real. That he was here, he had never left you not once and he wouldn’t leave you til you told him to. “P-please Sannie.” Your voice quivered. “I want to feel alive.”

“Don’t cry, my darling,” he cooed, wiping your tears away. “You know I’ll do anything for you, right?”

You nodded, letting yourself enjoy the soft touch of his hands in your hair and on your face, and the warmth of his embrace.

“Can I kiss you?”

You felt heat bloom in your cheeks at the question. San knew you’d never been kissed. Well, he knew because first of all, he was your closest friend in the Academy and you told him everything, and secondly, he may or may not have scared off anyone else who wanted to.

“O-okay.” You’ve never felt so shy.

“I won’t ever hurt you, Y/N.” He leaned closer, your heart racing you felt as if it was going to jump out of your chest. “With everything I am and as long as I’m around, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Your lips parted the slightest bit as his sweet words overwhelmed you with a sensation you’ve only ever felt in tingles whenever you were with him and now they were bursts of warmth that radiated throughout your body.

The plumpness of your lips and that innocent and pure way you gazed at home made him lose all his resolve. Softly as if handling the finest and most fragile porcelain, he pressed his lips against yours, their softness and their warmth, and the closeness of it all, made him feel as if the world had stopped.

You didn’t know what to do but when his lips gently moved against yours, a part of you made you do the same. It’s like your body needed to reciprocate his actions naturally. Maybe it was because you had thought about kissing him and wondered about it late at night til your face was hot and you were flustered at the imagination of what it’d feel to be closer to Sannie in a different way…

Gently, San helped you sit comfortably on his lap, supporting your back as he kissed you, tasting the sweetness of your lips that had a hint of metallic taste from the small cut on your lower lip. He’d kiss away all your cuts and bruises if you’d let him. He’d kiss them to make you forget the pain.

San was still holding back though.

He didn’t want to do anything you didn’t want.

But the way you had begun to kiss him back with the same need as he did, only made it harder for him to not lose himself.

Pulling away reluctantly, he looked at you. Your pretty lashes fluttered so prettily as you blinked dreamily at him, your lips were a glistening pink and your cheeks were glowing.

What made San fall even harder in that moment was the way you shyly looked away when he had been staring.

“Sannie…” you murmured, squeezing his shoulders nervously and completely aware that you were sitting on his lap, straddling him.

You just had your first kiss. San had just kissed you.

“Can I touch you?”

You felt your ears grow hot. “Aren’t you already?” You murmured. His hands were already on your waist and when they weren’t there they were in your hair or caressing your face.

“Let me rephrase that,” He chuckled and pressed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. “Can I…” he kissed your cheek, each kiss making warmth bloom wherever they touched you. “Touch…” He caressed the curve of your spine, your lower back tingling at the gentle touch. “All of you?”

“Y-yes.” You had uttered out so quickly and softly, that you felt embarrassed. You didn’t even think twice.

“You can touch me too,” San began to kiss along the column of your neck, the sensation making you shiver. “You can touch me however you want, Y/N.” He gripped your hips just a little bit tighter, enjoying the way you cutely squirmed.

“Sannie,” you softly called out to him, making him part from your neck which he had been kissing and licking.

His brows rose at your call, waiting for whatever you needed to say but in all honesty, you just needed to feel his lips on yours again.

So without a word, you cradled San’s handsome face in both hands before crashing your lips onto his, surprising not only him but also yourself at how greedy you had become. You didn’t know you could feel such sensations and the kiss just sparked a flame you never knew could come alive, and now that it was lit, it began to burn.

“T-touch me,” you whispered desperately between kisses, his own lips hungrily kissing you back.

San felt as if he was dreaming when those words slipped past your lips and even more so how prettily you moaned when caressed the underside of your breast with his thumb. He was surprised with how sensitive you were. You were still in your cat suit and yet you reacted so quickly to his touch.

His lips and your lips messily danced with desperation to drink each other's heat and passion. Your own hands had begun to tug at his armored protective suit while he also made quick work of your catsuit. San not wanting to leave the warmth of your lips, took his time to unzip the front of your suit. He wanted to be gentle with you despite the lust that was burning him from the inside out he just wanted to feel you and make you feel.

His lips finally left yours only to attack your neck with hot kisses, making you moan out softly. Gently he laid you on the worn-out mattress, parting from you completely so he could kneel between your thighs. Your eyes remained on him as he removed his protective vest, discarding it somewhere in the room before he peeled off his long sleeve over his head. His muscular chiseled body was illuminated by the moonlight, every ridge and ripple of muscle was accentuated by the shadows of the room. You felt a familiar heat pool in your lower body the more you stared at San’s physique and you blushed and turned away when he caught you staring.

The edge of San’s mouth twitched into a small smile, finding your timidness to be rather adorable. He liked how flustered you became because of him. San reached for your hips to pull you closer, your eyes widening when he did.

San found the zipper of your catsuit again, his heart thrumming in his chest as he slowly pulled it down. His breathing grew heavy as yours quickened with how the suit slowly opened revealing glimpses of your naked skin beneath. The rise and fall of your chest along with the sight of the valley of your breasts and hints of your body before him, made his throat dry.

He wanted to take his time but at the same time, his long infatuation that had turned to something more over the years made it difficult.

When the cold air kissed your bare skin, you felt your nipples pebble and harden against the fabric of the suit, making you want to rub your thighs together but that was impossible when San was knelt between your thighs.

“Can I keep going?” He asked you, pausing the pull of your zipper before it could go lower than your belly button. He searched for any uneasiness in your eyes but instead, he found such a sweet yet sinful look in them.

You nodded. “Y-yes, please.”

Gently, he helped you slip your arms out of the suit, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare pretty breasts bouncing free as he bunched the specialized Kevlar-like fabric at your waist. His palms were at least a micro-centimeter away from your skin. Almost afraid and hesitant to truly feel you. An assassin without their suit was just as deadly as them having one but with you, he felt as if without it, you were just a woman. A woman who wanted to be loved…a woman he loved.

Kissing you drove him crazy enough but to get to touch you? He’s going to crumble.

It seemed you had noticed his hesitation and driven by your silent desire, you took his hand and splayed fingers and pressed his palm over the middle of your chest, close to where your heart would be.

You didn’t say a word as his eyes snapped to meet yours. All it told him was that this was consensual, that you wanted him to touch you, and that he could keep going.

If this was truly yours and his last night in this world, none of you wanted to hold back.

“Sannie…” his heart stopped when you softly called out his name. Your eyes looked into his as if he brought you peace, there was no turmoil nor anxiety in them. The cold and dark blankness that they held when you’re on a mission or on Academy grounds was absent.

Right here, before him was just you. The young girl he once knew that the Academy caged and programmed to be a weapon in their beck and call, a woman who did not have the time to love or be loved, nor was allowed to. But if you were to tell him you were incapable of loving, he’d prove to you that you were wrong.

Maybe you didn’t know it then but the compassion you had shown him during your trainee days when he was nothing but the runt of the litter of kids with no future chosen by the Academy to be given a chance, that in its own way was love.

The way you stuck by him, took time to check if he was okay and to defend him from higher ranking assassins, even if it was platonic or more, it was love.

You slipped your fingers into his, intertwining them.

“Keep going.”

There was a hint of sadness in your smile despite the way you looked so longingly at him as if he were the warm shining sun.

He continued to unravel you. Gently, he rolled the fabric to slip past your hips. Despite your line of work, your skin was close to perfect in his eyes. No deep scars nor wounds that left a memory of your missions plus the Academy took good care of their favorites.

But the sight before him proved him wrong.

His heart dropped into his stomach and he felt your hand squeeze his.

Below your belly button and not fully hidden by the waistband of your black underwear, a long jagged scar curved along your lower abdomen. The scar was healed but it left its mark. It sickly smiled at him in a deeper shade than your complexion with pinkish hues.

“W-what is this?” He held your hip gently, his thumb caressing your hipbone afraid to touch that area skin, should you not like it.

He felt his heart break when you only looked at him sadly. “Y/N, w-what is this?” He croaked out hoarsely, his heart breaking when you looked at him that way and continued to hold his hand in yours.

“My graduation.”

The world stopped and he heard nothing but a dull ringing in his ears.

The Academy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter. Why should I speak of something that I could never get back.”

“D-don’t talk like that. Y/N you should’ve told me.”

You sat up, heart breaking when you heard his voice crack. San didn’t even realize that tears were falling from his eyes as he stared at that mocking smiling scar. Just when he thought the Academy couldn’t take any more from you, they took everything.

Well, almost everything. But not him. They were not taking him away from you. Never.

“Sannie, don’t cry.” You smiled, wiping his tears away. “I didn’t tell you 'cause I knew you’d cry.” You took a deep breath, finally telling your closest friend of so many years the secret you’ve kept from him. “This is why you should leave the Academy and live a life you truly deserve. You have a chance for a future you want. Mine…well…mine was taken from me. It was a silly dream I had when we were kids.”

“When we spent time around the towns and I’d see people getting married and having families, I thought I could have that. I thought I was going to marry you and have a family. At twelve years old.” You laughed softly at the childhood memory. “At twelve years old, I looked at you, my best friend, and thought ‘I’m going to marry San’ and that we’re going to be as happy as the families I’ve seen. That I would have a child and give them the life I never had…but then the Academy happened.”

San’s tears streamed down his handsome face and you held his face in your hands once more, making him look at you.

“I don’t want to think about that tonight. I don’t want to think about what I went through to stay alive.” You leaned down to kiss his jaw and your breath was hot against his ear as you uttered words that shattered his heart even more. “So don’t touch me like I’m made of glass. You can’t break something that’s already broken. Make me forget, Sannie.”

You kissed him again then took his hand that was on your hip and guided it to cup your breast, your body tingling and warming at the touch. The simple gesture told him one thing. Throw caution out the window. Nothing else mattered now except you and him. If both of you were going to die tomorrow, you both wanted to feel love and act on desires that both of you held back on.

Driven by the love he harbored for you for so long, he attacked your neck with heated kisses and caressed your bare torso with such a need to feel your skin.

Your warmth and your scent, he could die in it.

Sloppily, he licked and nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before going lower, and hungrily taking the soft peak of your breast into his hot mouth.

You gasped and moaned at the sudden and new sensation, your body tingling over and your hips mindlessly grinding on San’s thigh. You shivered at the spark of friction and loosely wrapped your arms around his head, your fingers combing through his hair as his tongue flicked and swirled over your sensitive nipple while his other hand gave your other breast attention. He squeezed and massaged them just as greedy as his mouth was latched onto your right tit.

Soon, clothes were haphazardly thrown away and you were on your back completely on display for San’s eyes and his eyes only. The coldness of the room was forgotten as your bodies began to burn with lust and yours continued to grow hotter as he kissed along your inner thigh, his slit cat-like predatory gaze never leaving your face.

Your thigh was hooked over his left shoulder and San took his time kissing your soft plush thighs, nipping and biting where he wanted and enjoying the way you squirmed and trembled. But when he came face to face with your pretty pink pussy before him, he felt like he could cum untouched.

His gaze was hot as he stared at your core and you wanted to close your thighs but it was impossible with San’s position. He rested his hand over your lower belly as he licked his lips.

“You’re dripping,” he said lowly, eying your slick pink folds and your little pulsing hole that pushed more arousal out the more he teased you. He brushed his thumb over your clit and your hips bucked.

Fuck, he swore to himself. You were so sensitive.

Biting his lip, he collected your arousal and messily spread it all over your cunt. You could feel the warm sticky slick over your skin and you only grew more needy for his touch. You’ve touched yourself plenty of times when you needed to…but it was different when it was someone else, it was different that it was San.

“Fuck,” he hissed softly, feeling how wet you were and how easily his thumb was able to circle around your sensitive clit, enjoying the reactions he was eliciting from you. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nodded, shamelessly.

“Have you ever been touched here?” He asked, wondering if you were like the other assassins who deal with their desires by sleeping with another assassin. If you answered yes, he’d be jealous. He’s already jealous at the thought of someone else being as close as he was to you right now.

But your answer was more than he expected.

“N-no. Just me.” You breathily replied, biting back a moan when he pressed a little more as he massaged your clit in slow languid circles.

“Yeah? Just you? All alone?”

“Mhm Hm.” You bit your lip, your hips bucking into his hand for more.

You were driving him crazy. He was imagining you touching yourself in your room. Pretty little hand in your panties playing with yourself underneath the covers and biting back your moans like you were right now.

“You know…there’s something better than just your fingers,” he inched closer, his breath fanning over your pussy, the heat of it making you clench around nothing. He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to hold you down and keep your hips still.

“Your fingers?” You guessed, blinking at him and watching his every move. You found it rather embarrassing that he was this close to your intimate area.

“Definitely,” he chuckled at your response. “But not that, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of your pubic bone. “Something even better.”

Before you could ask what, his pink tongue peeked from his lips and licked a long stripe from your dripping hole and up your clit. You moaned at the feeling, squirming in his hold. Not one second did his eyes leave yours, the intensity of them made you need him more, and when he slowly flicked his tongue around your clit, tasting you, the pleasure went straight to your head.

“A-ah, Sannie,” you gasped but it didn’t end there.

As he had done with your breast, he latched his hot lips onto your core and began tasting you.

San moaned against your pussy at the sweet taste of your cunt, slurping and hungrily licking at your arousal as if he didn’t want to let a single drop go to waste.

It was downright dirty. Pornographic.

He kissed and made out with your core like he had with your lips. You never knew that you could feel such mind-numbing pleasure like this. His tongue was so hot and his lips were so soft, and just when you thought it couldn’t get better, you felt the tip of his finger tease your entrance.

It was almost too much.

You gripped his dark hair and tugged when you felt him slip a digit inside of you. His finger was thicker than yours, longer too. A rush of arousal washed over you when you heard him moan against your pussy when you pulled his hair.

“You’re so wet, fuck. You taste so good.” He briefly left your clit then licked at the pearl before saying. “My finger slipped in so easily, sweetheart. I think you can take another one already. Can’t you?”

“Y-yes. San, please. I-I need more. Please.” You panted breathlessly. Just as you asked, he delivered.

He added another finger into your hole, slowly slipping them in and losing his fucking mind at how tight you were sucking his digits in. He could only imagine how heavenly it must feel when it was his cock instead.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart.” He bit his lip, slowly beginning to pump his fingers in and out of you, his fingers completely covered in your slick. “You like that, darling? Love how my fingers are filling you up?”

You nodded, gripping the mattress below you as your hips moved on their own, and words you’ve never thought you’d say out loud slipped past your lips. “W-want to feel you deeper. M-more please.”

San could only smile at your reaction before he latched his mouth again onto your clit while fingers curled inside of you. You swore at how easily he found that spot you desperately tried to find on your own in the privacy of your room. His fingers were thicker and your chaste walls welcomed them so easily. The way he touched you and pleasured you felt so good, you didn’t care about the lewd squelching sounds your pussy made as he fucked his fingers into you. You could even feel your arousal drip from your hole and onto the mattress.

His eyes were peacefully closed shut as he tasted you. It was as if he was savoring every single bit of you and this kind of attention was making a familiar warmth bloom in your chest.

“S-San, w-wait, I-I’m,” you stuttered out, feeling your core tighten, the familiar sensation of being on that edge far more intense than when you touched yourself alone.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he murmured against your core, releasing your overstimulated clit with a soft wet pop. “Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Something about what he said and how he flicked his tongue against your clit as his fingers mercilessly pumped and curled inside of you, sent you over the edge. You gasped as your hips trembled and your walls convulsed around his fingers, your climax making you shake and your mind go blank momentarily.

San hummed deeply, the vibration of the sound along with how he slowly lapped your release and moved his lips as he did, made some part of your brain melt.

He couldn’t get enough and he quite literally was acting as if this was his last meal on earth.

“S-Sannie, wait—ah!” He prolonged your organs with his lazy kisses and languid kitten licks.

Once he had gotten enough (though he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough), he parted from your lower lips to look at you through hooded eyes full of hunger and lust. It made your heart race.

With his eyes locked on yours, he thought his two fingers that had been inside of your heat to his lips and licked your essence off of it, a sudden heat passing through your body at the visual.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, taking his time to taste you on his fingers.

“H-how about you?” You asked, your voice breathy and higher than its usual tone.

He caressed your thighs, lovingly as you came down from your high. “What about me sweetheart?”

Your hands caressed his toned stomach, tracing the lines of his abs and stopping before the waistband of his briefs.

“Do I get to taste you?”

San’s cock throbbed at your question that sounded so innocent from your lips. He wants to make this all about you but you were making it difficult for him to not be selfish and focus on making you feel good.

Still lightheaded from your orgasm, you sat up and crawled to San, the man before you gulping at the visual of you on your knees and seeing the beautiful shape of your back, it was like looking at a cat. You knelt by him, meeting his height before placing your hands on his shoulders and moving him to sit on the mattress with his back against the wall.

“I want to taste you, Sannie.” You purred, sitting a top of your folded legs, his own legs spread to make room for you.

He raised a brow watching you, amused at your actions. Even like this, he looked so attractive.

San smiled softly at you and caressed your cheek as you looked at him with round wide eyes. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

You nodded, experimentally teasing the imprint of his length in his briefs. His breath hitched at the mere touch of your fingertips, his excitement making his thighs tense.

“Teach me how?” You looked at him through your lashes and the sweet determined look you had turned him on even more.

You were rather shy that you asked him to show you but little did you know, that just sent his mind places. Was he really your first?

Curiously, you palmed his length making a shaky breath leave him. “Did that feel good Sannie?”

“F-fuck… y-yes. It felt good sweetheart.”

“Can I take it off?” You tugged at the waistband lightly and he nodded eagerly.

You pulled down his boxers and once the garment was down past his hips, his cock sprung free from its confines. It slapped against his hard abdomen and you felt your mouth water at the sight.

Not knowing what it’d do to him, you slowly wrapped your hand around his length to gauge his size and San hissed at the warmth of your soft palm. He was hot and stiff, and the pink head was glistening with a slick liquid. With your other hand, your fingertips spread his precum all over the bulbous round tip.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re torturing me.” He groaned the more you massaged this sensitive tip.

You felt your core tingle at the sight of his furrowed brows and his parted lips as you touched him. You wanted to make him feel good too.

“What do you want me to do, Sannie?” Your voice was so sweet.

“F-fuck, baby, spit on it a-and then wrap your pretty hand around me, okay?” His hand gently cupped the back of your neck.

A little hesitant but doing as he said, you spat on his cock, and the dirty sound and act of it made his cock twitch. You were guessing that you should spread it around and when he hummed, it told you, you were doing something right.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart.” He cooed. “Now wrap your hand around me. Fuuuck. Just like that.”

Feeling excited with all the praise he was giving, you kissed his neck slowly, doing as he did to you earlier.

“M-move your hand up and down, sweetheart.”

“O-okay.”

Your saliva mixed with his precum gave lubrication for you to easily glide your hand up and down his shaft.

“That’s it, baby. That feels so good. Fuck.” He moaned. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

You do as he says and kiss with his, moving your lips with his, and your core clenched when you could taste a sweet yet slightly salty flavor on your lips. Was that you? The fact you were tasting yourself on his lips turned you on.

The two of you stayed like that; making out while your hand pumped his cock, feeling his girth and his length. You couldn’t help but wonder how he’d feel inside of you but you wanted to taste him first like you said.

You pulled away from his lips and they pouted at the loss of them but he couldn’t stay disappointed for long, not when your tongue just did a kitten lick on his sensitive tip.

“Fuck, sweetheart, are you really sure?” He moaned, not wanting to force you. He was happy enough that you had been jerking him off. You really didn’t have to return the favor if you didn’t want to.

“Mhm.” You hummed, following your instincts and taking his leaking tip in your mouth, while your hand continued to move up and down his shaft.

His taste made your head spin and your clit throb. You liked the taste of him, it was a little salty but it was just him.

“Shit-,” he threw his head back, his other hand gripping the mattress as you licked and suckled at his tip. “That feels so good. Fuck. Don’t stop. Such a good girl using your pretty mouth on me. Do I taste good?”

You hummed so cutely as a yes. God, he’d do anything for you. How were you this cute?

“Do you think you can take more of my cock in your mouth? You think you can take it?”

His dirty talk made you even wetter and you were sure that you were dripping at this point.

Could you take it? There was only one way to find out.

Breathing through your nose and flattening out your tongue, you slipped his cock deeper almost choking when the hot tip touched the back of your throat but you against your gag reflex and tried to mimic what your hand had been doing. You slowly moved your head up and down, bobbing rhythmically on his cock.

San moaned breathily. This was your first time taking cock in your mouth? “You’re a fucking natural, baby. Fuck. That feels good. You look so pretty like this. Could cum just watching you.”

What you couldn’t take in your mouth, you made up for with your hand, earning more moans from San. You liked this. You liked making him feel good. You liked having his cock inside your mouth, you wanted to taste more than his cock.

You wanted more.

“Fuck,” he swore when he felt you bravely take a little deeper, feeling the way the start of your throat constricted at the intrusion of his cock. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing that—,”

You bobbed your head faster, not caring that you were making such lewd slurping and sucking sounds. He had done the same for you and at that moment you understood why he had enjoyed tasting you.

San’s thighs began to clench and his core tightened further. His knuckles were turning white at how hard he was gripping the mattress in one hand while the other grabbed your ass, making you yelp and take more of him deeper in your throat, which pushed him over the edge.

There was a cute surprised squeak that came from you which was the cherry on top of him spilling his load inside your mouth. Your eyes widened as you felt his hot release go down your throat and they fluttered close as you savored the taste of him.

San was losing it when he felt your throat move as you swallowed his cum. He didn’t know you were going to do that. What’s making his head spin further and making his hazy orgasmic bliss last longer was how you kept him inside your mouth, just the tip, and licking the slit of his cock head.

You pulled away, his cock falling on his stomach, still hard and you sat so cutely in between his legs as he panting and coming down from his high.

You wiped the edge of your mouth and licked what was left of him on your lips.

“Sannie tastes good.”

You didn’t know you had said that out loud in such a soft manner that made San swoon.

San like a cat, pounced on you.

He was once again all over you. Your back was against the mattress as he found his place between your thighs. You eyed his cock, still hard and glistening from when it had been in your mouth. Your walls clenched when San wrapped his own hand around his pretty cock and pressed the head against your clit making you whimper.

San rubbed the tip of his cock through your slit, spreading your slick and coating himself with it. You were so drenched that it was driving him crazy, he wanted to bury his cock deep inside you so bad but when his eyes met the long scar smiling from one hip bone to the other. He wanted to take his time. For you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, holding your hips with care. Even though you told him that he couldn’t break what was broken, he wouldn’t want to think of breaking you. In fact, he wanted to make you feel full, whole, and complete. He wanted to care for you in a way you deserved. “Am I your first?”

The sudden question threw you off. It made you realize that he was going to be your first. Concepts like those shouldn’t matter to you especially since you didn’t have the time to think of such a thing.

“Y-yes…” you admitted, relaxing a little. “You’re the first person to ever kiss me too. I want you to be my first, Sannie.” Your heart was aching while your body burned for him. “And if this is our last night alive, I wouldn’t have imagined anyone else being my first and my last. I’m glad…it’s you.”

San didn’t know if this was the right time to say the three words he’d been dying to say to you for so long. “For me…” he slowly moved his hips, rubbing his length between your slick folds, making your face relax into that flushed blissful expression.

“It’s always been you.”

You didn’t have time to think or question what that meant. Not when the tip of his cock teased at your entrance, just pressing against it.

Slowly, he let the head pop inside your cunt, both of you gasping. The girth of his cock stretched you out more than you could ever with your two fingers and there was a slight sting as he entered, making you bite your lip and whimper.

But he was attentive.

San intertwined his fingers with yours while his other hand held your hip still as he slowly, little by little, inch by inch, pushed his cock deeper into your tight wet heat. The velvety warmth of your walls made his head spin and the way they hugged his cock was heaven. The carnal part inside of him wanted nothing more than to thrust deeply into you and have you falling apart for him.

“S-Sannie, m-more.”

He growled lowly. Despite this being your first time, the wetness of your heat made his cock slip in so easily. Both of you watched as his cock split your lower lips apart and how his length slowly disappeared into you. You were bewildered that San was inside of you. You never knew just how badly you wanted to be close to him until tonight.

The circumstances were dire, it was hopeless but you had him.

“I want to feel more.” You squeezed his hand as he pushed his hips a little further. “Y-you’re so thick.”

San must be dreaming.

You brought your free hand over your mouth as the sensation of being filled up was such a pleasure you’ve never felt before. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

He cooed and praised you for each inch you took of him and there was something about the heat of him inside you, spreading apart your chaste walls that made your thighs shiver as he bottomed out.

San let out a long exhale, cursing as he felt his whole length be snuggly embraced by your velvety warm walls. He could even feel your arousal coat him and drip out of your entrance. He was ascending. He was the closest he could ever get to the person he’s only ever seen as the love of his life.

You looked so beautiful before him. How could you be so bashful yet exuding such allure? Your hand squeezed his as you adjusted to his cock inside of you, he could even feel the way your walls squeeze and contracted as you did. Fuck. He was your first. The first man to ever have the privilege to be this close to you, to feel you, and to see you in a state so vulnerable that you hid from everyone.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” San asked, massaging your hips to help you relax. You were squeezing him so tight. “Does it hurt?”

His sweet voice and the care in them made your heart crack. What did you do to deserve someone like Choi San?

“N-not really. It’s just…new.” You whimpered when the head of his cock that was in your mouth earlier was snug against your cervix. “I-I can feel you.”

That made San’s head spin. “Y-yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, holding his hand and looking into his eyes. “I…feel…you.”

Each word held so much weight and emotion that San couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and crashing his lips on yours. He could feel you too and he loved the feeling of you. He drew his hips back just a little, slowly giving you shallow thrusts to get you used to him. You gasped at the sensation of his cock gliding and scraping your walls, the friction so sinfully and mind-numbingly good.

San continued to kiss you, his tongue delving into your warm wet mouth, the two of you kissing messily as his cock eased its way out of your walls leaving only the tip in. You squirmed. The first taste of the motion of his length inside you sparked a rush that felt addicting and when he easily slid back into you again, it confirmed that growing addiction.

“S-Sannie!” You cried out, arms wrapping around him, holding onto him as he stroked your walls deeply.

“F-fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He groaned, burying his face into your neck, kissing the spots he hadn’t marked with love bites.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your lust mixing with greed as you needed more of the feeling that San was giving you. You’ve never felt so much in your time of being alive. It was new. It was something you never had before.

The deep passionate rolls of hips with every intention to make you feel pleasure, the hot kisses on your neck, the sweet nothings he’d whisper, and the gentle caresses on your body. It made you dizzy, you’ve never lost yourself in something so…euphoric.

As San continued to glide his cock in and out of your tight heat, with his forehead against your chest, his eyes met that scar on below your belly once more, his heart aching. Why did they take that away from you? It was so cruel of them.

His emotions were all mixed up. You two might not live to see another day after this night and the two of you acting on your emotions and passions that had been suppressed for so long were both overwhelming. Plus the truth of what happened to you during your Academy days hurt him.

All he knew was he wanted to you to feel all of him. To make you feel his love and desire for you with every touch, every kiss, and every strong drive of his hips.

The passion and the way you two had been showing it to one another became more carnal as the lust muddled both your brains with nothing but unspoken love and the need to just fuck.

San’s hips picked up their pace. He thrusted and drove into you so deeply, each scrape and glide of his length inside you made his fat cock head kiss your cervix and pound into that one spot that sent you shivering and moaning.

San liked those sounds of yours. Accompanied by the lewd wet squelching and the sound of skin slapping against skin, it was driving him crazy.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” He placed his palm just below where your scar was, where he was fucking you. “That’s me.”

“C-can feel you, Sannie! Oh god,” you cried out, nails digging into his back. You could feel him waking up every fiber of your being with pleasure. “Want to feel more of you. D-don’t stop, please. Want you. I want you.” You were rambling mindlessly too lost in the pleasure, too lost in the heat of his thick cock filling you up.

“I won’t stop, baby. Can’t stop. I need you so bad. You need me to right? Fuck,” he felt you squeeze him tighter. “I’ll make you feel good, Y/N.” He moved his palm lower to find your sensitive pearl all puffy and sticky with your arousal.

Your back arched into him as he massaged your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, fucking you til you both get your fill. Even if you both came now, he doesn’t think he’ll have enough of you. He wanted to fuck you so passionately. He wanted to drink what he could of you as this might just be your last night together. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes!” You croaked out, panting with each thrust of his cock. “W-wanna cum, Sannie. P-please.”

“Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll make you cum. I’ll fucking make you cum.” He growled, his hips picking up their pace. Your mouth fell open. The new pace had his cock hitting your g-spot at such a rapid pace you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was you wanted him to keep fucking you.

“H-harder. Need to feel you deeper.” You whined, hugging him close and your words only made the man before you go feral.

The snap of his hips shook your whole body with pleasure that only crescendoed your bliss further into euphoria. That tight knot within your tummy was reaching its limit. With how San was moaning and groaning against your neck, and how his fingers on your clit glided so easily with your slick was sending you over the edge.

You chanted his name over and over so breathlessly, your nails digging deeper into San’s back.

Snap!

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your walls clamped down around San, your thighs and hips convulsing uncontrollably as pleasure swooped through your body. You couldn’t help the way your nails clawed down his back which made the man before you moan brokenly as his hips stilled and glued against you.

Heat began to fill your walls and your womb as you came hard. San’s thigh muscles were taut as he emptied what he could into you. It was driving him crazy. Your walls were sucking him in a way where his cum just kept flowing til he had nothing more to give you.

“S-Sa—,” you didn’t have to finish calling out for him before he leaned forward to capture your lips. The kiss was slow and lingering…it was gentle and deep.

“I’ve got you,” he said briefly leaving the kiss to take a moment to straighten his back to look at you before him.

You were glowing. Your beautiful skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat that made you glisten beneath the moonlight and your face was flushed. Your eyes looked up at him hazily, blinking prettily as you were still in your high. His eyes then drifted to where the two of you were still connected. Your puffy lips were split around his cock and you couldn’t help but look down there too.

Slowly, he slid himself out inch by inch. You whimpered at the loss of fullness but when you saw the pink cock head slip out and his length slam against his abdomen coated in your slick and pearly white release? Your walls clenched around nothing. With his thumb, he pulled one of your lower lips gently to get a good look at your pink pussy and his eyes darkened once more when he saw his cum leak out your pulsing hole.

San spread his release all over your pussy, his cat-like eyes curious and staring deeply at where he ‘marked’ you in his way.

“M-more.”

Did he imagine that?

“S-Sannie,” you spread your lips apart for him, making him swallow the lump in his throat. His eyes went to your face, his head spinning when you looked at him with such want and need. Could you look at him like that forever? “M-more. Need to feel you more.”

With San….you never had to ask him twice.

With the same passion and desire as he did earlier if not more, he was on you again. This time the two of you didn’t care about being gentle. You two were desperate for one another. Utterly desperate.

Then you found yourself locked against San with his arm around your waist, your back pressing against his body as he fucked deeply into you without thought. Your bodies were sticky as your shared heat kept you both hot, the cold forgotten as he pounded into you.

You moaned over and over for him, the sound a beautiful melody to his ears.

“I-I don’t think I can stop.” He rasped against your ear, slamming his pelvis against your ass filling your cunt up to the brim with his cock. “I don’t want to stop,” San growled while you cried as he slammed particularly deep, the new position making him reach that spongy spot inside you so fucking easily.

He’s gonna make love to you til you both are absolutely spent. Til he was empty and til you fell apart and had enough of him.

In that little walled-off prison you two were in, the two of you indulged in ways you both could never have during your time in the Academy. Boundaries they programmed into you were broken, lines were crossed and two beating hearts were fully awakened…and for the first time, truly, alive.

Then…when it was done…when that night passed and dawn broke. Those two hearts remained in each other’s arms, embracing one another as they feared for what the morrow would bring.

Not knowing that San would have to keep the promise he kept you.

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.”

But he wasn’t going to leave you behind.

He could never.

-- feel free to scream in my askbox!

TAGLIST : @endeav0rsb1tch @eastleighsblog @scarfac3 @deadgirlwalking3 @ddaeing @lexiigom @lesyeuxdeanna @ja3hwa @prettyjewel93 @dear-dreamie @ashrocker123 @kookibuns @i2hyun0 @kpopismyescape23 @alex-tinyy @hyukssunflower @honeypaintedskies @jinnieboosworld @dawn-iscozy @moonchildushine @asjkdk @voicesinmyhead-rc @not-everything-is-so-primitive @atinytinaa @songmingisthighs @sanniesbum @angellluh @teenyfinds @vannabanana1995 @huachengsbestie01 @lovinghologramtrash @anxiousskylar @megseungmin @chnt1 @dezmybelovedddd @khuyyn @trippoverrt @liniiiaa @caityelise99 @mismatchfluffysocks @venn-ie @unlikelysublimekryptonite @staytinyville @tinybada @awkward-fucking-thing @bloomingsann @cheesemonky @nakiiko @littlestarwoo @sharksandminhos

#tokki;sway with me #ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez ot8 x reader #ateez smut #san x reader #choi san x reader #san smut #Choi San smut

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verahella · 4 months

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♡ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 — 𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ♡

his shoulders slump the moment he enters through the door, crinkles of a smile unconsciously softening into a tired expression. he plops down onto the couch, resting his head against the back of it and crossing his feet on the marble coffee table in front.

gojo’s throat is dry from a long day of teaching but his legs ache and he can’t bring himself to get up and get water right now.

his students had done well today, he thinks. the trio was improving, slowly but surely, he could see everyone getting over sukuna.

the thought lifts a small smile to his face.

he closes his eyes, exhaling slowly. his head is pounding and he has a sudden, strange craving for your homemade tea (with lots of honey to match his picky taste).

he used to stick his tongue out in disgust at your ‘healthier choices’ but now he can’t help but miss the warmth of it stinging his tongue, sweetness spreading on it before your lips replaced it.

too bad you were out on some mission tonight.

satoru doesn’t register the comforting scratches on his head, only letting out a small hum.

“what’s got you smiling like that?”

“the misery of missing my wife.” he mutters. his eyes open with a flash when he recognises your laugh.

he turns his head around, watching you stare down at him with a soft smile. “you must hate her very much then, no?”

(he can’t. even if he begged on his knees, he couldn’t hate you. every fibre in his body, the strands of his very soul, would oppose anything but loving you, devoting himself to you.)

“yes. she’s a demon for leaving me alone here.”

you shove his shoulder lightly, “i came back, didn’t i?” you always will.

he moves to his knees on the couch, encircling his arms around your waist and pulling you impossibly close. “thought you weren’t gonna be home until tomorrow.”

“i finished early.” you comb your hand through his hair, “couldn’t risk you burning down my kitchen.”

“have some faith; i would only set the ugly curtains on fire.” he murmurs, settling his face into the crook of your neck. it fits perfectly. he breathes you in, the scent of home filling his senses.

“you okay there?” you mumble, swaying slightly to balance his weight on you.

“‘m fine. just missed you.”

you smile. he sounds so small, a hint of rare vulnerability in his tone, yet he doesn’t shy away from it like he used to when he first met you.

that genius of yours, he acts like a toddler more often than not, yet his true inner child is buried deep in, a part of his heart waiting to be unlocked. (you’re glad you’re the one he handed the keys to.)

he relishes in the small pats of your hand on his back, a good job at the end of a long day. you’ve learnt even the strongest require appreciation sometimes.

the both of you stay like that for a while, time pausing until its just two souls entangling with each other where they find home.

you smoosh his cheeks together as you plant a kiss on his nose. “i love you.”

he grins, charged up from your touch, “how could you not? it’s me we’re talking about.”

you chuckle, tracing a faint scar on his cheek. from back when infinity didn’t isolate him from the world. “glad to see you’re feeling better, narcissist.”

“i’m also handsome, rich, immeasurably funny—”

“and arrogant.” you interject.

“it’s part of my charm.” he winks. “i’ve found out these days that i’m pretty mean too.”

you tilt your head, “mean? how?” it doesn’t seem likely to you that this six foot lump of annoyance could be anything like mean.

“i ate the last cookie.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x you #written purely to give him love #or some weird form of it #vera’s.jjk.library.✎

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tired-biscuit · 1 year

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𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 18+ mdni, fem!reader // mating press, mentions of breeding, husband!bakugou (yes, he's aged up)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 700+

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

𝗕𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗚𝗢𝗨 fucks you in whichever way he can think of.

Sometimes it’s up against the shower wall, when he has your back pressed to the wet tiles and he still wears that same conceited smirk that had first ghosted over his rosy lips the moment you had offered the lame excuse of saving up on water by showering together.

Other times it’s him fucking you from behind; hands and thrusts alike from how harsh and greedy they are as you try not to sweat too much because you’re both still dressed in your work clothes, and he’s got you bent over the now-disorganized desk in his fancy office – your tear-stained cheek flushed against the expensive wood.

He fucks you while standing up, making you watch yourself in the mirror whilst the only part of him you can see behind you is the focused and firm line of his mouth. He fucks you sitting down, when he’s tired and drained from yet another late-night patrol, and thus lets you take charge for once; warm, scarred hands that have held so much power and destruction in the form of a spark – and still do – turning gentle and caring for a change as they slide across the curve of your hips and guide you to a faster rhythm.

He screws you when your limbs are effortlessly entangled with his own stronger ones as you lay in bed and toss around the bed sheets that he obsessively keeps washing after every more intense fuckfest. And he slams you in the car, too, when he feels like being risky for once, and decides to make you bounce on his fat cock like a little slut in heat, even though anybody could walk past and hear your kittenish moans.

Still, nothing quite hits the spot like a good ol’ mating press does.

Truthfully, you’re not sure of the reason as to why. The position could be considered rather vanilla in the eyes of many; it’s just spicy missionary, but goddammit, if it doesn’t turn your brain to mush and causes your heart to jump whenever he starts hinting he wants it. His eyes burn like fire, the red gaze fierce as he practically manhandles you into it like you’re some toy he likes to play with all the time, every time, any place, everywhere.

And perhaps you adore the position because of the angle that lets him sink his heavy cock so deep inside you that the overcapacity you feel at the intrusion makes your eyes cross and your jaw turn slack. Maybe you enjoy it because he looks absolutely beautiful whilst doing it: glimmering in sweat and panting in the midst of all the passion going on between you.

Perhaps it’s the way he reaches out and his thick digits intertwine with your own; the chill of the golden ring he had placed upon your finger a long while ago, brushing his knuckle and sending a shiver down his spine because you’re his, his, his – all his.

It might be the way he subtly dips in to reach you better, so that he can kiss you. How his warm tongue tangles with your own, and he kisses you so deeply and with such feverish desire that you lose yourself in him; fade away to a point where he has to sink his teeth into your bottom lip to bring you back to him.

How he caresses your face, brings you closer until your drool mixes with his own, and turns into something sweeter as the quiet, “I love you.” sinks into the saliva.

It’s the way he can rest his forehead against your own the moment his hips pick up pace and intent, and your knees are nearly touching your ears from the way he bends you to the brink of pain, and he has to focus to not make you ache, even though – fuck, it feels too good to do that right now.

How he watches you break over and over again, then; crumbling into nothing but pure bliss as you cry out his name in that breathless sort of tone he absolutely adores, and that truly does make him feel like a hero.

How he can breed the fuck out of you after you cum and gush and turn oh, so very messy for the third time in a row. As that ring of milky slick gathers at the base of his dick and everything feels so sloppy and hot that he’s ready to give you his all and spill, spill, spill. Until you’re dumb. Fucked out. Dripping with his cum because he’s so in love with both you and your sticky pussy.

Who knows?

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou smut #mha smut #bnha smut #biscuit drabbles #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo smut

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burningcomputers · 2 months

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Lazy Day Cuddles

Imagine you're cuddlin' with Lucy Bronze Word Count: ~550

(P.S. This is my first fanfiction ever, and at the time, I was playin’ with the poetic and metaphoric side of writin’! Let me know what y'all think!)

---

The room was bathed in a soft, golden light as the sun began to set, casting long shadows that danced upon the walls. With her head nestled in the crook between my neck and shoulder, I found tranquility in the cocoon of intimacy. Rivers of power flowed beneath her sun-kissed skin as her muscled frame lay against me. Her fingers playfully skimmed the edge of my panties where skin met fabric, a gentle reminder of the strength that lay hidden beneath her graceful exterior. Her fingers traced lazy patterns in the dip of my hips as if committing every curve and contour to memory. Her arm was loosely draped over my stomach, while the other was cradled around me, her palm gently pressed against my heart. Her legs intertwined with mine, and with each subtle movement she made, I could feel the rippling muscles that bore testament to the stories of battles won and scars that whisper of valleys crossed.

The scent of citrus and spiced whispers wafted through the air, unraveling creamy florals atop a warm, musky ghost. Her Grecian nose inhaled deeply, seeking out my own scent subconsciously. An aroma of refreshing lavender with a hint of spicy amber, tempering the other notes into a harmonious chorus, adding some woodsy elements. She murmured in her thick Scouse accent, "God, I love your scent. It's mesmerizing and peaceful but so alluring and goddamn sexy."

Invariably, she would always cuddle up to me, her nose buried into my shoulder or my head resting on her chest. Her breaths were soft and steady, lulling me into a state of serenity. The world outside seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of her embrace and the soothing rhythm of her heartbeat. She knew that the stress of getting older in a sport that meant everything to her was left outside of the sacred space.

As the tension in my muscles began to melt away, the tightness was replaced by a sense of peace and contentment that I had not known in a long time.

"Lucy?" I whispered.

"Hmm?" She mumbled out in a long sigh.

"I love you." She shifted just enough to press the lightest kiss on my forehead, her eyes drifting down to my lips.

I arched my neck to meet her halfway, and our lips met in the dwindling light. A symphony of passion ignites as our lips meet in the twilight. The tender touch of her lips, soft as petals in the rain, is a sweet refrain against mine. A whisper of desire and a sigh of bliss escape us both as we become entranced in this moment.

Her tongue dances with mine, a sultry waltz, as we speak a silent language of lovers entwined and lost. Our kiss tells a tale of passion and love's sweet vengeance.

A spark of fire and a burning glow ignite within us as we become one and flow together. A river of passion and a torrent of desire course through us as we become lost in this kiss. A reason to love and a reason to be, we become free in this moment.

Simplicity and domesticity enveloped us as we lost ourselves. The weight of the world seemed to lift from our shoulders, and for once, we allowed ourselves to succumb to the whims of fate.

---

Hope y'all had fun readin' this; let me know if I should do more short stories with tender moments like this!

P.S. I took inspiration from some perfumes that Lucy has mentioned and combined three of them (Baccarat Rouge by Maison Francis Kurkdjian, Colonia by Acqua di Parma, and Mojave Ghost by Byredo).

#lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine #woso fanfics #woso appreciation #woso fanfic #woso imagine #woso fluff #england wnt

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woooyeahbaby · 2 months

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aprilluc day 5: chest

warnings: mention of battle scars and burn scars, this is super short lol, gender neutral reader

a/n: super sorry this is kinda badly written and super short. i’m distracted and kinda unmotivated to write rn but diluc is super important to me so i can’t just not participate in aprilluc. next day i’ll be doing will be day 9: vampire!

lazy mornings with diluc.

they really are pleasant. lying down next to him in your shared bed, resting your head against his muscular, scarred chest. one of your hands running up and down, from his pecs to his midriff, occasionally tracing one of his many scars with your fingers.

some of the scars you knew not to touch, others you knew diluc would be delighted for you to run your hands over. there were a couple you learned the hard way that you shouldn’t even look at.

diluc was trying to overcome his dislike for the scars on his body. especially the ones on his chest and arms. he had been trying so hard to understand why you love to look at and feel them so much.

while the two of you were silent with thought and drowsiness, one of diluc’s large hands reached out and grabbed yours while it rested on his chest.

“sorry, did i touch a bad one?” your gaze turns to his face, your eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“no, no. could you.. do the constellation thing..?” diluc requests softly, a hint of embarrassment in his groggy voice.

you smile, nodding gently before diluc releases your hand, allowing you to do what he asked for. you use your index finger to move along his torso, moving from scar to scar.

“these make ophiuchus.” you pause, trying to play connect the dots with the dark marks on your boyfriends body. “mm.. oh, these make cassiopeia.”

diluc found this so comforting. listening to your gentle voice, feeling your fingertip slowly tracing the constellations on his skin, and not having to worry about work. he almost had to wonder if he was still dreaming.

once you had run out of ideas, you laid your hand down on his chest once more, placing a kiss on a scar he received from a mitachurl. it had become one of your favourites. all of his scars and imperfections simply added to his beauty.

sweet, lazy mornings like this, will always have a place in both of your hearts.

#genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr fanfiction #diluc x gender neutral reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc fluff #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x you #apriluc #aprilluc #diluc fanfic

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bluelikebruises · 3 months

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whispers of summer fervor || aegon ii targaryen

Aegon II Targaryen/TargaryenF!Reader summary: Fire and Blood—you were etched out of those great words. Born covered in a veil of maroon with the stench of death. A hollow child with sunken eyes kissed by the very fire that gave your family their power. When the dragon egg in your crib never hatched you were thrown into the dragon’s den. Ignited by a dragon who was not yours to claim, your skin holding the memories of your failure. The Cursed Targaryen Princess—without a mother, without a dragon, and maimed. Your misfortunes were a stain upon the tapestry of the Targaryen legacy. or Being the disgraced child of King Viserys and abandoned by your eldest sister pushes you into the arms of her opposition, leading to your support of Aegon’s claim. wc: 5.1k tw: slight ooc aegon, angst, rhaenyra is usurped, rhaenyra slander, daddy issues, mommy issues, viserys is a shity dad, burn scars, reader is born from aemma but skintone & physical features are never discussed, canon divergence, incest cause yknow targaryens, bastard slander, hints of misogyny

a/n: i usually write (or try to) a reader who is neutral to the whole blacks vs green, but not today! rhaenyra is the rightful heir—always—but for the sake of this fic she is not. also i’ve been neglecting completing my uni assignments to finish this lol, enjoy!!! p.s. not proofread

☆━━━━☆━━━━☆

Fire and Blood—the words of your House.

Fire and Blood—a warning to those who would ever think of opposing the Targaryen dynasty.

Fire and Blood—a declaration of war met with threats disguised as promises.

You were etched out of those great words. Born covered in a veil of maroon with the stench of death. A hollow child with sunken eyes kissed by the very fire that gave your family their power. When the dragon egg in your crib never hatched you were thrown into the dragon’s den. Ignited by a dragon who was not yours to claim, your skin holding the memories of your failure. The Cursed Targaryen Princess—without a mother, without a dragon, and maimed. Your misfortunes were a stain upon the tapestry of the Targaryen legacy.

A fate you were lucky enough to not shoulder alone, Aegon like you was born of your mothers blood. Born out of a desperate need to uphold old customs and beliefs. While his birth was celebrated it also split the Realm, whispers of his right as future king followed him throughout his life. The notions of king left heavy expectations for him to shoulder, expectations he never met, always falling short in one way or another. Resulting in his feverish drinking and promiscuity.

You are both young when you realize the shortcomings of your livelihoods. The drop in your father’s voice whenever he spoke of you. The frigid overcast that glazed over his eyes when his eyes set on you. The blatant favoritism he showed towards your much older sister—the tenderness in his eyes was a warmth you had never felt. His disdain leaked into your interactions; an uncomfortable shadow fell upon his brow whenever you were in his presence. As if your very being pained him, and how could it not? You were the walking reminder of his wife’s death, of his failure as not just a husband but a King.

Aegon knows the resentment his mother harbors towards him despite her denial. Her first born conceived of a loveless marriage. She had been a girl and made a monarch overnight and some months later a mother. She was robbed of her girlhood and tied to the crown forever and Aegon had been the first nail in her coffin. Aegon represented every sacrifice she had made and his constant rebellion felt like an insult to everything Alicent lost.

You understood one another, in ways many could not. Cut from the same cloth amalgamations of Targaryen indulgence, stubbornness, and passion. The least favored children of the King and Queen, bonded over neglect and resentment.

Years forged your attachment into blind fidelity, a sickly devotion that was rooted in your hearts like oaths. The world hardly existed outside the two of you and it didn’t stop for anyone without the Targaryen name. While many believed there were no exceptions to your coterie, they would find themselves proven wrong. For nearest and dearest to you was Helaena and Aemond, both as intertwined with one another as you and Aegon.

Though the four of you were close none of you shared an inkling of a relationship with your eldest sister. Rhaenyra had left for Dragonstone and never turned back, no word or ravens ever arrived in her stead.

When she had resided in the Keep she made no effort to hide her aversion towards you. She was a specter in your memory and marked as a heathen by the Queen. The Queen marked Rhaenyra a great many things and left a bitter child you swallowed her words like water.

It came to no surprise to anyone when the Queen announced that Vaemond Velaryon was bringing into question the validity of your nephew’s claim to Driftmark. After all Rhaenyra had done a very poor job of hiding her indiscretions.

━━☆━━

On the day of the trial you sit in front of the hearth dreading the affair that was to come. As the hours passed you prepared to become a part of the circus, another spectacle for the Lord and Ladies of the Kingdom to gawk at. Prying eyes were always trying to glimpse at your injury, trying to validate the whispers of gossip they had heard. They were children and you, a parable came to life—a reminder of how cruel the Gods could be. The Cursed Targaryen Princess who could not hatch or claim a dragon. A clear demonstration that even the Targaryens were exempt from their own fire.

Eyes followed you even when not a single body was around. They haunted you mercilessly. The constant feeling never allows you to inhabit your body comfortably. It was the reason many of your dresses had been tailored towards your lesions. Tailored towards the concealment of the damaged skin of your shoulder and upper arm.

Your dresses always had long sleeves even during the hot summers. The scars that could not be hidden with fabric were hidden by your hair. Never was your hair tied up or styled in extravagant fashion. It was only ever neatly placed out of your face in a simple manner.

With the sound of your chambers doors opening you surface from thought. Aegon steps into view, freshly bathed with his hair combed and wearing an exasperated look.

“The Keep is a mess” he says slumping down next to you. He throws his head back leaning uncomfortably on the divan

“Your sisters arrival warrants pageantry”

“Your sister” he clarifies

You scoff, Rhaenyra had not been your sister in years. She had always tried to marry you off to a Lannister or whatever Lord presented himself as willing. She thought you incompetent and arrogant, endowments she believed were smears of her mothers memory.

She was one to cast judgment, you’re sure Aemma would not have been keen on having illegitimate grandsons. What was the saying of House Arryn… As High as Honor. Bastards were anything but.

“Has she not summoned you?” he looks at you curiously

“She has,” you respond boredly. A servant had entered your chambers the day prior, her head tilted towards the floor as she spoke. Her timidness struck you as odd and instantly you knew she was one of Rhaenyra’s. With a smile you sent her back to her mistress, refusing to tangle yourself in her web.

Aegon smirks, “She is to be Queen and you deny her”

“She pedals falsehoods and you forget she is not Queen yet”

He laughs shifting in his seat, his eyes never leaving you. While you hated being watched, Aegon's gaze was different. He was never trying to pry you open or overzealous with morbid curiosity. He always regarded you with esteemed affection and tenderness.

After a long pause you say, “Is there something on my face?”

His stare doesn’t waiver and he doesn’t respond. It is rare when he forgets how bewitching you could be but when it strikes him, he is at a loss for words—overwhelmed by the realization. His eyes shine with novelty as if it is the first time he has ever laid eyes on you. As if you were the grand encompass of the ocean and he was ready to dive in.

You utter his name and he’s awoken from the spell he had been under.

He stands offering his hand, “We should take our leave now”

“You’ve never been one for punctuality” you tease and he smiles

“No, but I have been informed to behave. To present an image of regalness and grace” a laugh escapes his lips, “As if I am Aemond”

Now you laugh taking his hand, “He is much more regal than you”

Aegon clutches his chest just over his heart, feigning hurt, “You injure me”

With your arms laced together you set off to find Aemond and Helaena. It would have been improper for Aegon to enter without his wife and for you to show up in the arms of a married man—regardless if he was your brother. It was a rule the four of you rarely followed but today was not the day to deter away from customs.

Helaena is the first to spot you in the halls, Aemond is with her. A bright smile displayed on her face as she said your name. You can’t help but admire her, always effortlessly beautiful and far more intelligent than anyone gave her credit for. The picture of what women of your house were to be, beautiful, intelligent, and dragon riders. Everything you were not and though she did not hatch an egg she had claimed Dreamfyre. You should have been mad with envy but no such ill feeling ever came.

You loved her, perhaps no envy was born due to your ever present feeling of having to protect her. Of shielding her from the claws that embedded themselves into Keep. Destroying any sight of light or innocence. Fearing she would be treated like you had been.

You depart from Aegon to greet Helaena with a kiss on the cheek. Moving towards Aemond to do the same, he greets you with a compliment before extending his arm for you to take.

“Always so chivalrous” you say loud enough for Aegon to hear

━━☆━━

The hearing had gone to shit. Your father made a surprising appearance, Vaemond had died, Lucerys was still heir to Driftmark, and everything was as it had been the day before.

You stand beside Aegon and Aemond in the dining hall, the room is lit by candle light as chatter fills the air.

“What a waste of time” Aegon huffs

“Dinner or the hearing?”

“Both. Lucerys is still heir and Daemon suffers no consequences.”

Aemond chimes in, “Their breaths are an insult to everything we stand for”

You nod about to speak when the sound of the wooden door opening announces the arrival of the King. Quickly everyone settles to stand before their seats, seating only after the King is seated.

Your father greets everyone with a hoarse voice. He wears a golden mask on the rotten side of his face and he breathes as though it pains him.

“Prayer before we begin?” The Queen asks and he nods

Instantly your head is bowed, your hands are in your lap, and your eyes are closed. Prayer had become a daily ritual before dinner and it was always led by the Queen.

Before the prayer is over you feel the sensation of eyes on your skin. You think it to be one of your nephews but when the prayer is over you see it is Rhaenyra.

Her eyes are casted with an emotion you cannot read and they soon drop to your shoulder. Eyeing the scars that edged just above your shoulder and the base of your neck.

Feeling the scrutiny of her gaze, your hands find your hair moving it to disrupt her viewing. You had been judged by the vultures of the Seven Kingdoms, you would not allow Rhaenyra to do the same.

The expression on your face is clear, Rhaenyra has gotten to you.

Aegon notices your discomfort, notices how your hair now falls over your chest, and how your eyes are focused on the empty plate before you. Instantly he knows someone is to blame. He first assumes it to be Daemon, his uncle was crude and unceremonious. Having little regard for the people around him, not bothering with niceties.

But when he sees Rhaenyra attentively watching you—casting judgment—he knows it was her. Aegon almost laughs at her hypocrisy, as if she out of anyone had any right to look down upon others.

If his sister wanted something to look at, then he as a gracious brother would oblige in the only way he knew how, by causing a scene. The one thing Aegon was adept at was getting under people's skin, poking and prodding until they burst.

He leans towards Jacaerys spewing his obnoxious rambling. When his nephew bites back Aegon leans back in his chair reveling in the beginning of his antics.

The sound of wood scraping against stone makes you cringe, your father is standing removing his mask displaying the rot that has taken over the left side of his face. Eye’s are averted at the bare sight of the King’s face, but you are accustomed to seeing rotten skin. His teeth can be seen through his cheek, the muscle stretching and contracting as he speaks—it's a morbid sight.

He speaks of reconciliation and forgiveness but you pay him no mind. Besides you, Aemond keeps his eyes forward, Helaena has her eyes on the wooden table, and Aegon’s jaw is tight as he stares at his wine cup.

You spent the next couple of moments with your head in the clouds. Surfacing from thought when Rhaenyra toasts to the Queen, thanking her for looking after the King. You’re surprised when the Queen follows after, her kind words confound you. But you have no time to think them over as Aegon stands from his seat. Stepping between Jacaerys and Baela pouring wine into his cup.

Aemond looks suspiciously towards you but you had no answers to give him. When his eye leaves you the table shakes and Jacaerys stands as Aegon sits. With furrowed brows you look at Aegon who sips on his wine with ease.

The room falls silent and Aegon is reviling in the tension, trying not to smile triumphantly as he uses his cup as a shield.

The tension in the room grows thicker when Aemond stands. He’s looking at Jacaerys with the marksmanship of a hunter who had spotted their prey.

Eyes shift and concern is painted on the faces of almost everyone.

Jacaerys playfully hits his uncle on the shoulder, raising his cup as he smiles at Aemond, “To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth” Jacaerys pauses looking between his uncles, “And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles”

Across the table you see the snarky smiles of Jacaerys’ betrothed and Lucerys. Their smugness lights a flame in the furnace of your heart. You have half a mind to stand with Aemond, to show that their disrespect would not be tolerated.

“To you as well,” Aegon says

When Aemond sits you lean towards him, “Fucking miscreants”

“Vermin” he responds as Helaena stands.

She smiles excitedly holding her cup of wine, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon” she turns to them, “It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you, except sometimes when he’s drunk” she smiles

You let out a small laugh at her words. Aegon was rather whinny when drunk, he became a rambling needy mess who desperately wanted attention. And you were always there to give it to him in any shape or form that he needed it in.

Smiling, you raise your cup towards Helaena, “Hear, Hear”. The scarlet wine falls down your throat with ease and your moment of enjoyment is shortly ruined by an approaching Jacaerys.

His eyes are set on Helaena as he extends his hand asking her to dance. To your dismay she takes his hand without hesitation. You’re staring daggers at the Prince, indignation replaces the taste of wine in your mouth. Helaena was far too kind for the world.

Aegon’s eyes catch yours before he looks at Jacaerys dancing with his wife, disbelief and annoyance clear in his face.

In one swift motion you move to stand beside Aegon, “The apple does not fall from the tree” you glare at the hazel haired prince, expecting a response from Aegon but you get none. Confused, you turn towards Aegon only to find him gazing across the table. He’s quiet as he sips from the cup in his hand watching Rhaenyra laugh and talk with their father. Viserys is smiling and coughing through his laughter and it is the most alive he has been in years.

“She arrives and suddenly he can will himself to walk and attend supper” he says only for you to hear

You look up towards the sight of his words—your father and Rhaenyra and you understand. His jab was not said out of anger but out of a feeling of lacking. All the traits and characteristics Rhaenyra had that he did not, the love of their father she had that he did not.

“You’re jealous”

He turns towards you, “Are you not?”

“No”, you lie

“She’s father’s favorite”, he’s looking up at you through his lashes, “I’m the son he killed for and it is not enough”

You avert your gaze, his words struck like an arrow. A part of you had always felt responsible for the birth of Aegon. At fault for the death of your mother, the death of your brother, and the birth of Aegon. If you had not been a butcher, if you had been a boy his burden would be yours.

“You didn’t kill anyone Aegon” you sip wine solemnly, your posture falters, and your head is half hung.

Aegon notices your somber spirit and his eyes soften realizing the error in his words, “I’m sorry, I meant no offense”

“I know”, is all you say returning to your seat

As the night passes you eat and make conversation with Aemond. For most of the night his eye is set on the dancing prince and princess. Occasionally when he looks at you his lips pull upwards in a smile.

After your father retires for the night, servants enter with more food. A cooked pig is laid out before you and before you can think Aemond’s fist hits the table as he stands.

“Final tribute”

All eyes fall on Aemond and the room goes quiet.

“To the health of my nephews. Jace…Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” he pauses and it is as if all the air in the room has been cast out, “strong”

Your eyes widen in shock as the Queen pleads with Aemond.

“Come let us drain our cups to these three…strong boys”

“I dare you to say that again”

Aemond turns towards Jacaerys, “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment”, they both walk towards one another, “Do you not think yourself strong?”

Lucerys rises from his seat as Jacaerys strikes Aemond, Aegon is not far behind grabbing his nephew and slamming him against the table.

Bolting upwards you grab Helaena pulling her away from the chaos. She grips your hand tightly frightened by the scene.

“Are you alright?” you ask

She nods, “Yes but Aemond” her hand points at the exiting prince. Understanding, you pull Helaena, following Aemond.

Once you’re in the halls you follow the sounds of Aemond’s steps, Helaena runs towards him. She latches onto the side of his arm soothing the riled prince. You’re about to do the same when laughter echoes from beyond the hallway—Aegon.

Grabbing the side of your dresses you hold it up allowing yourself quicker movements. With your approach the shadow of Aegon grows smaller and his laughter grows louder.

You say his name as you grab his arm. When he lays his eyes on you they widen excitedly, your name falls from his lips, “You are a vision. Have I told you that? Come, come, let us retreat into our burrow”. He gives you no time to respond as he throws an arm around you and leads you away.

The burrow was a small unfinished room at the far end of the Keep that had been hidden by a suit of armor; it had been discovered by Aegon when he was ten and two. Immediately he ran to inform you about it, dragging you into the room. It is not large like either of your chambers but it’s spacious enough that both of you can move without bumping into one another. Rugs and sheets hung throughout the floor and walls hiding the decaying walls. Bottles of wine littered the room, both empty and full.

Aegon is drunkenly rambling, as you make sure there is no one around to see you gently push past the suit, “”Twas only a compliment” he mimics Aemond’s voice.

Sitting near the corner of the room you grab a bottle and Aegon moves towards you. He rests his head against your lap spilling wine into your dress, not that you cared. He’s laughing recalling the events of the night.

With a laugh you respond, “Jacaerys’ stance was laughable, he looked like a child throwing a tantrum”

“He is to be King”, his laugh dies as the sentence leaves his lips, “He is to be King”

You both grow quiet, the words weigh heavy over the both of you. The realities of a future that is so close to becoming reality. If you were believed to be a stain on the Targaryen legacy, Rhaenyra's children were desecrations to the Targaryen dynasty.

“Perhaps your mother is right,” you sip from the bottle of wine not fully thinking about the words as you speak, “Perhaps you should be King”

Aegon half laughs, pushing himself into a sitting position, “You speak of treachery”

“Your mother says—”

“My mother is crazed on a notion that we will be slain”

You wish you could believe him, but the image of your sister's husband swinging his sword without mercy does not leave your mind. How easy it would be for Rhaenyra to rid herself of you once she is Queen; there were fates far worse than death.

“Enough talk of foreboding futures. Let us drink ourselves blind”

“Hear! Hear!” you eagerly agree

True to Aegon’s words you both drink until your visions are blurred and the room spins. You both dance and drink carelessly, laughing as though the events of the night had no effect on you. It comes as no surprise when Aegon leans towards you and presses his lip on yours. The kiss is sloppy and full of hunger, your teeth clash and tongues swipe over one another. There’s a desperation in his hands—in the way he holds your face obstructing any movement. In the heat of passion you bite his bottom lip earning a yelp from Aegon.

He pulls away with a smile, “Ow”

Your hand rest on his chest playfully, “Don’t be a child, I didn’t draw blood”

The rest of the night blurs into a giant mirage of jubilation.

━━☆━━

As the sun rose you wake with a yawn, your body aching from the uncomfortable position it had been in all night. Your head had been on Aegon’s lap and his arm had been thrown over your body. Maneuvering from his embrace you press your back firmly on the brick wall, your head throbbing feeling as though it had been repeatedly bashed.

The sun’s rays kiss your cheeks, it's warm and gentle and for a brief moment the world around you falls into obscurity. Nothing else matters beside the sun’s golden touch and the beating of your own heart.

The body besides you grumbles and your moment of serenity shatters as Aegon slowly stirs into consciousness. You’re brought back into the arms of reality.

“Wine,” he says, “More wine”

You don’t waste your breath, instead you make your way to your chambers. Stumbling the first few steps out of the room. Peeking your head out of the door way you make sure there is no one around before exiting.

Walking down the corridors there is an air of urgency within the Keep. There were twice as many Knights as you were accustomed to seeing and servants hurried into the direction of the Great Hall. Regardless you carry on, not bothering to greet any of the people who greeted or called after you.

Approaching the hallway to your chambers you’re unexpectedly faced with the sight of your wooden doors wide open. Stepping closer you see three figures standing at the center of your room; Aemond, Ser Criston, and the Queen.

Puzzlement rests on your brow, what had transpired in the hours you and Aegon had disappeared. As you continue your approach you can see the faces of your visitors all displaying an array of emotions.

“Your Grace,” Ser Criston states as you walk through the threshold, “The Princess”

The Queen turns towards you instantly, wasting no time in embracing you, “Oh sweet girl”

Her embrace wasn’t foreign but the sudden action confuses you further.

“Where have you been? Where is Aegon?” she pulls away but keeps her hands on your arms

You looked towards Aemond trying to find any answers on his face but there were none.

“I’ve just left Aegon. Has something happened?”

“Where is he?” The Queen’s grip on your arm tightens. Desperation is in her eyes and it frightens you, enough that you decided to keep Aegon's whereabouts to yourself for the time being.

“We snuck out of the Keep last night. Upon returning to the castle Aegon left my side”

She turns towards her sworn Knight an unsaid order ushering him quickly from your chambers, Aemond follows suit.

When they’re gone you repeat your question, “Has something happened?”

“Your father is dead, he died in his sleep”

Her voice was grave and her words echo in your mind but you can’t decipher them. It’s as if you have lost the ability to comprehend the common tongue.

A moment passes and you realize what your step mother had said. Silently you wait for grief but it never arrives, there is no sadness in your heart, no invading sorrow. Your father is dead and you shed no tears for his memory.

“I–I need a moment,” you pull away but before you can leave the Queen pulls you towards her. Her hand is under your chin lifting your head just enough to meet her gaze.

Her eyes are round and full of distress, “You know where Aegon is, I beg of you, bring him to me. It was the King’s dying wish. Do not let my father get his hands on him first”

You nod and hurriedly walk out of your chambers, returning to your burrow. The throbbing in your head returns but you try to disregard the discomfort, there were far more pressing matters.

The closer you got towards Aegon the faster your move, breaths of air forcibly escape as enter through the hidden door. You thank the Gods when you see Aegon in the same position he had been when you left. You rush to his side, dropping to your knees shaking him.

“Aegon, Aegon. Wake up, Wake up”

He groans and his speech is slurs. Letting his arms go, he slouches into a half sitting position half laying. His eyes flutter open for a moment and your name falls from his lips.

“‘Tis me,” you cup the cheeks of his face almost painfully. He tries to move away from you but you do not yield, “Aegon, father is dead”

You watch your words register in his mind. He blinks his eyes open and takes a breath, pushing you aside.

“Your jest are not appreciated, my head is murderous”

“It is no jest, the King died in his sleep”

Like you had with the Queen, Aegon takes a moment, his eyes are wide looking through you making sense of your words.

“Father is dead” he repeats. His hand passes through his hair, a look of distress clear on his sunken face

“Yes and your mother and grand feather are searching for you”

“For me? What could they want—”

Realization hits you both like a strong gust of wind, knocking all the air out of the room. The line of succession crosses your mind for the first time. You had thought nothing of the Queen’s words about your fathers dying wish but you understood them now. Of course, the Keep was in disarray because the Hand was trying to sit Aegon on the throne before news of the King’s death spread.

“They mean to crown you”

Crowning Aegon would be treason and all those who participated would be punished with death. The idea does not frighten you as much as the idea of Rhaenyra on the throne. You’d surely be sent away, sold off to be the pretty little Targaryen wife of Lord who’d defile you. And the realm would fall to pieces with a spiteful malicious woman at its helm.

Aegon looks at you horrified, “No. They can’t. I am not heir”

“That does not matter, it was the King’s dying wish to have you succeed him”

“On whose word?”

“Your mother’s”

Aegon scoffs, “She is crazed, fuelled by her hatred for Rhaenyra”

“You may think her crazed, but your mother is a woman of the Gods, she would not lie about a matter of this caliber”

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it quickly. His back is against the wall, he looks disheveled, dirty, and disarranged. Tears swell in his eyes and he swipes them away with his sleeve.

“A dying wish he had years to fulfill”

“I know not the whims of old Kings, but I know regret. It is clear in the words he spoke to your mother that he wanted you on the throne, his first born son”

“What kind of brother would I be to take the throne from Rhaenyra?”

“By the law of Gods and Men the throne is yours. You cannot steal what is rightfully yours”

“I do not want the throne” he argues

“Aegon” you plead

“No! I will not take it,” swiftly his hand grab yours, “Let us climb on board a ship escape to Essos or on dragonback—”

You interrupt his crazed thoughts squeezing his hands, “Listen, Rhaenyra only cares for her own, she has never cared for us. If you let her ascend the throne what will come of your mother? Of Aemond? Of Helaena and your children? ” you pause, “Of me? She sees my existence as blasphemous and yours as opposition. If we leave we are leaving those we love to die. Ascend the throne Aegon, protect us”

Silence encompassed the room, Aegon ran his eyes over your face searching for answers, trying to understand what was being asked of him and if he could undertake such a task. You return his gaze with soft eyes and gentle hands.

He had never thought himself a leader let alone a King. He did not want the pressures and responsibilities of leading an entire land. Aegon would no longer be able to hide under his title of prince, as King. He would have to be the picture of Targaryen greatness and regalness—heavy is the head that wears the crown. He wants to laugh at the notion but his chest is heavy with your words.

“Do you understand?” there’s a desperate edge in your voice and he doesn’t respond, “Aegon, do you understand?”

“Yes,” he nods

#targaryen reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader fic #aegon ii targaryen/reader #hotd x reader #hotd fic #aegon ii targaryen fic #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen fic

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saetoru · 2 years

Text

#𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆’𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ kento’s adjusting to life with a scarred face and body, one day at a time, hand in yours.

— pairing ⋮ nanami kento x reader

— length ⋮ 5.2k words (it could be worse methinks)

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, post-shibuya incident (i've not rly gotten that far into the manga, so there isn't too much from it), nanami lives, he's having a hard time adjusting to his scars :(, insecure nanami, hints at ptsd, mentions of marriage and having children, body worship, blowjobs, cum swallowing, unprotected sex, creampie — he might be ooc i tried my best 🥹

— notes ⋮ this was supposed to be posted for his birthday…which was a month ago :,) anyway happy (very late) bday to my first ever jjk love—you are still the most special in my heart i miss you dearly. ty bby mich for reading over this mwah ily lover 🫶🏽

“here,” you murmur, smiling at nanami before setting the mug of coffee down on the nightstand beside him, “just how you like it.”

it’s a routine by now.

every day, at nine am sharp, you rise from your side of the bed, adjust the curtains so the small peek of light from the cracks doesn’t disturb him as he sleeps, hum the same little tune as you shuffle out of the room, and you make his coffee. it’s the same every morning—black with two spoons of sugar—and sometimes, it’s the only thing that feels the same for nanami since he’s come home from that day.

nanami doesn’t talk about the scars on his body. he doesn’t even really tell you details of how he got them after the incident. the only thing you really know is that it was bad, that he was half dead and half gone. he’d even left a voicemail—you still have it saved on your phone. he remembers walking through the pain, faintly thinking about how he couldn’t see through his left eye, and he thinks for a moment that he’ll die. he realizes that his goodbye kiss that morning would be the last kiss he’d ever give you, so he makes sure to part with at least one final piece of him before he does.

but somehow, he wakes up. he opens his eye—one of them is permanently gone—and he sees you tearily gasp and shoko breathe in relief. and then he realizes he’s alive.

“you should drink it while it’s hot, kento,” you say gently, carefully, like the wrong words are hot water to sunburnt skin. and you suppose they are—just that these burns are far worse.

he only hums, sitting up with his back against the bed frame and his eye still trained on his phone in his hands. nanami’s never really been one to use his phone longer than he absolutely needs to, but these days it serves as a good reason not to look up and meet your eyes—a perfect excuse to hide that very visible side of him he just can’t ignore.

“thank you, love,” he mumbles.

“what do you want for breakfast? i can make—”

“i’ll eat later,” he says quietly. hallow. “you can go ahead and eat without me.”

nanami kento has never really dwelled on whether or not he’s attractive. not before missing half of his face, and certainly not after—that much hasn’t changed. what has changed, however, is that he now dwells on how unattractive he is. he stares a little extra longer in the mirror, walks a little extra faster when he strides past you, is a little extra cautious to make sure you’re never on his left side. you pretend you don’t feel him stiffen under your touch, and he pretends he doesn’t notice your eyes dim every time.

on most nights, he has the same recurring dream. one of a wedding—with pictures of you both gathered around by laughing friends and family, pictures on the wall in a house of your wide smile and his soft eyes staring at you. pictures that he’ll someday show your children, pictures your children will someday show their children, pictures that are worth reminiscing over.

but then, just as his hand reaches for the frame of one, the same agonizing burn from that day spreads through his cheek, down his neck and arm, and stops just at his hip until he’s left numb on one whole side of his torso. then he’ll glance back at the photos, and suddenly, the same sunken hollows of his bones and the same marred skin of his face greet him. he wakes up every time to you beside him, watches the rising and falling of your unconscious figure that’s noticeably closer to him as you find him in your sleep each night despite him maintaining distance.

he often thinks about the vacation photos you’ll never get to take, the family albums you’ll never get to make together, and sometimes, nanami wonders if he really is alive and well when he grieves for himself. he grieves for everything he ever was. everything he ever could’ve been.

“kento,” you sigh, making yourself comfortable on the mattress, right next to his figure as your arm presses against his. it’s quiet—but it’s not the same comfortable silence you’re used to with nanami. he’s not the same tall and steady mountain—now, you think, he’s just an ant pile on the ground, too easy to kick away as you pass by like it was never there. “come have breakfast with me,” you insist.

“i’m not too hungry right now,” he says instantly. he doesn’t let you hear any emotion to his words, doesn’t give you a lot of opportunities to pick up on how he’s feeling or what’s on his mind. it’s an added burden, he supposes—asides from caring for his wounds, asides from pretending like you’re fine and things are okay, you have to deal with all the feelings he can’t seem to handle himself.

nanami has only shown you a vulnerable side once since he’s come home. it’s after the first time he tries to take a shower, when the water pelting against his raw skin hurts too much for him to handle, when the heat of the water burns at the sore spots. he has to take a bath instead, so you help him wash his body gently, carefully rubbing over the skin with a washcloth like you would a newborn. he lays on your chest that night, clutches at your shirt and slots his body between your legs while you kiss his forehead and rub his back until he sleeps.

after that, he sleeps on his side of the bed every night, and he doesn’t dare let himself cross over to yours. you try to stay on your half of the mattress until he’s ready, but you can’t control the way your body seeks his out in your sleep. by morning, you’re curled around his good arm, and he’s painfully stiff on his back as he sleeps, not moved an inch from the night before.

“kento, you never skip breakfast. you’ve always lectured me when i try to,” you furrow your brows, “just eat a little.”

“i’ll eat later,” he repeats, a tad bit firmer this time. you sigh before pulling the covers over your legs and settling deeper into the mattress.

“fine,” you huff, “i’ll just wait for you.”

“don’t be stubborn,” he frowns.

“i’m not.”

you pinch your nose, rubbing over the bridge to collect yourself. you try to be patient with nanami. he’s always been patient with you, always gentle and kind even when he’s tired. he needs you now, so you try to do the same for him—try to be as perfect for him as he would be for you if the roles were reversed.

but it’s hard for you too.

it’s hard to see the shell of the man you used to know. you love nanami even with taut skin and rough scars. you love nanami even with an eye patch and a trembling hand. you love nanami even with distant words and scarce touches. you love nanami even if he doesn’t want to deserve your love, and you’ll keep loving nanami until he loves himself too.

but it doesn’t stop you from growing impatient some days.

“kento, the only one being stubborn is you,” you say frustratedly, the slightly irritated exhale you try to hide does not go unnoticed by him.

he sets his phone down and looks at you fully for the first time in a long while.

“i’m not,” he says dryly, “you can eat without me, i said i’ll eat later.”

“and you can join me for once instead of sitting here and feeling bad for yourself.” he doesn’t say anything after that.

you wonder for a moment if you’ve gone a little too far, if you’re making things about yourself when they should be about him. you wonder if you’re selfish, if you hope he’ll heal for the sake of healing, or for the sake of being your kento again. you suppose maybe both.

but then you wonder if maybe he’ll ever even be the same kento again. but you think you’ll love this kento just as much as the old one—you think you’ll love every version of kento in every life.

“i’m fine,” is all he says.

nanami does not want to have breakfast with you. it’s not because he doesn’t like being around you—on most nights, he counts his blessings that you’re still climbing into bed beside him instead of packing your bags and walking away. it would be the easy thing to do, and he wouldn't blame you. maybe then, you might have a semblance of a normal life, a normal husband who doesn’t—didn’t, he couldn’t go back now—fight cursed blobs for a living. a wedding with happy pictures. a house with photos on the wall. children with a father they can go to the park with. family vacation albums you can put together.

it’s all things he’s robbed you of, all things he let burn away along with the healthy flesh he used to have. he knows that if he tells you this, you’ll insist nothing’s changed. but paper does not smooth down no matter how flat you press it after being crumpled, nanami kento knows this better than anyone else.

he doesn’t want to have breakfast—he can’t stomach the idea of sitting across from you at the table, of feeling the aftershocks of failing you first thing in the morning. lunch and dinner are hard enough as is, and he doesn’t want to skip those and offer you lonely meals along with the pain and suffering he’s already brought onto you through his injuries. he also doesn’t want you to have to stare at his pink flesh and pathetic eye patch and trembling hand. he doesn’t want you to realize you’re stuck, bound to a cage to care for a flightless bird when you deserve the sun’s rays and the wind blowing between your own feathers.

perhaps if he’d died, you’d have mourned him for a year or two. maybe three. perhaps if he’d died, you’d keep one of the ties he’s always worn—the ones you can’t help but tease—and keep them in a box with a photo. maybe you’d meet someone new, someone who’d teach you how to laugh again, to smile and feel the wind on your face and the grass between your toes. maybe you’d get married and throw the bouquet with a sweet laugh and hopeful eyes. maybe you’d move on and be happy—and if he got lucky, maybe you’d take out the picture and tie from time to time, looking back and remembering him too.

but now you’re stuck somewhere in between a stranger and the man you love, he thinks. and he’s stuck somewhere in between the living and the dead.

“you’re not fine, kento,” you sigh, shuffling closer until you can hug his arm. he lets you, looks down at his lap and lets himself ignore his mind screaming no in favor of feeling you press your warmth against him. truth be told, he misses your touch—he just can’t find it in him to let himself have it. “and you don’t have to be. not right now, at least. but someday—”

“someday, i’ll have even more regrets than today,” he says skeptically.

the sun pours through the small cracks of the curtain, hitting the skin he desperately wants to hide. he almost feels the ghost of a lone tear in the eye he doesn’t have.

“no,” you say firmly, reaching to cup his cheek and turning him to face you. you trail your thumb over the scarred skin, rubbing over what would’ve been the apple of his cheek like you always do, like nothing’s changed. “kento, you’re alive. you have things to live for,” you say softly, leaning and pressing a kiss under his eye patch.

and when a single tear rolls down the eye he does have, you catch it with your thumb and rub it away.

“not a wedding,” he mumbles.

“why not?” you tilt your head in confusion, “you…you don’t want to get married?”

“of course, i do,” nanami says quickly. he pauses, ponders his words for a moment before he decides to turn his body and face you fully. “i’m sorry,” he offers with a strained voice.

“what are you apologizing for, kento?”

“you won’t have the pictures you wanted. we won’t have photos on the walls, or vacation albums, or—”

“of course, we will,” you argue, furrowing your brows like the words he’s uttered are completely absurd. he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair—thankfully, that’s grown back in full, otherwise he doesn’t think he’d go out in public at all. the stares from people are expected, but he thinks the looks he’d get from being half bald might just have been a bit too much to handle. “kento, we can still do all the things we wanted. nothing’s changed.”

“everything’s changed,” he clenches his jaw, “i’d ruin them. the pictures, the moments. everything. if we had kids, i couldn’t even take them to the park, or drop them off at school, or pick them up. they’d get bullied by the other kids, the parents would whisper about you. i’d ruin it all. i am ruining—”

he doesn’t get to finish that last statement.

you climb onto his lap, cupping his cheeks with both hands and silencing him with a kiss. he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back even if he doesn’t understand how you can be kissing him in the first place. it’s like muscle memory. it’s involuntary, the way his lips mold against yours. like the way his heart pumps blood and his lungs breathe in air, like a compass points north and the sun sets west, nanami kento’s lips press back against yours as firmly as he can without fail.

“not to me,” you whisper against him as you stop to breathe, “you wouldn’t ruin a thing to me. our pictures would be perfect, and our vacation albums too. our kids would be lucky. i’m lucky, kento,” your voice wavers. your eyes are glossy and your lips are trembling. you clutch his shirt this time, inching yourself closer until all that’s left is to climb into his skin. you’d do it if you could—scars and all. “i’m lucky you’re here, i’m lucky you’re alive. that you’ll scold me to go to bed on time at night. that you’ll make sure i don’t leave the house on an empty stomach in the morning. that you’re here to let me untie that awful tie of yours or hang your coat when you come home. that i don’t have to sleep alone. that i get to take bubble baths while you wash my back. that we can hold hands while we watch a movie. that you’re here kento—with me. i’m not…i don’t have to be alone. i’m alone when you’re gone,” you croak, tears slipping past your cheeks and splashing onto his shirt under you. “i don’t…i don’t wanna be alone. without you.”

it’s nanami who kisses you this time—and it’s the first time he kisses you himself, the first time he closes the gap and presses his lips to your own since he’s come home. he pulls your body flush against him, trying to make up for the time he’s kept you away. you kiss him back hard, silent streams of tears running down your face as you desperately taste him on your tongue. it’s a messy kiss, not like most of the kisses you’ve shared with nanami. this kiss tastes like narrowly missing death, like the reaper’s scythe misses by a hair, like heaven has closed its gates to grant you one more day on earth.

you pull away first, and he almost protests until you kiss under his eyepatch again. you trail your lips down his cheek and jaw, littering soft pecks along the raised skin of his neck while he breathes heavier. he lets out a shaky breath when you gently lift the hem of his shirt up slightly, waiting for his approval—and he almost wants the pull the covers over his body and shut his eyes and sleep again, but he decides to take a chance and let you peel his shirt from his body.

he doesn’t meet your eyes. he can’t. not when you’re staring down at his skin, tracing along the line that separates healthy flesh from scarred—along the line that separates his past from the present. and then you cross over to the side that’s not so perfect, that’s not smooth and promising under your touch, the side that’s rough and tight and a reminder of things he failed to do—and you kiss it.

“you’re beautiful. perfect,” you murmur as you kiss along his collarbone, all the way to his shoulder and back again, down his chest and along his abs, right to his waist where you press one last kiss to his hipbone sweetly. he’s panting by now, and nanami is more than a little embarrassed that he’s as hard as he is from something as little as affection.

but your lips are so near where he needs them so badly—and it’s been ages since he’s let himself indulge in anything sexual. even on his own.

“can i?” you hum, making him groan when you roll your palm over his crotch, feeling his erection poking through his pants. he lets his head fall back, lets his hands clutch the sheets under them as you untuck him from his pants when he nods. “missed you, kento,” you murmur, kissing the head of his cock.

the gesture makes him shudder, a weak grunt falling from his lips as he breathes heavier, letting out a soft groan when you smear the dribbling pre cum from his tip along his length. he’s sensitive, you note, more than he usually is—maybe it’s from not doing this for so long, maybe it’s from finally letting himself indulge in your touch after avoiding it, maybe it’s from the excitement that you still want him enough to do this. whatever it is, nanami moans softly when you stroke him slowly, chest rising and falling as you squeeze the base of his cock with every drag of your fist, cursing when you lean and press a small kiss to his inner thigh from your spot between his legs.

he spreads them a bit wider to make more room for you. he’s on what used to be your side of the bed—he lays there the first night so his burns aren’t next to you, and you don’t have it in you to protest. looking up to meet his gaze, you smile gently at him.

“do you want to stop?” you ask as you rub his thigh soothingly, “we don’t have to if you—”

“no,” he pants, “just…i…i’d like to keep going,” he says quietly. with that, you shoot him a bright grin, one that makes his heart flutter in his chest and his cock twitch between his legs. you pump him a few more times in your hand before leaning in to press a kiss to his tip once more, this time swirling your tongue around the fat head of his cock, gliding through his slit. he groans, low and deep from his chest, lets a hand fall to your head while the other fists the sheets.

“love you, kento. i love you,” you murmur, and then you’re taking him in your mouth, wrapping your lips around his length and swallowing around him. he bucks his hips on instinct, gasping when your hand comes to fondle with his balls, massaging them gently while you bob your head up and down his cock.

“f-fuck,” he rasps, “feels…feels good,” he breathes, closing his good eye and letting his head fall against the frame of the bed. you hum around him, the vibrations making him twitch slightly above you before you pick up the pace.

it’s messy, the way you loosen your jaw and fuck him with your mouth, the way his tip hits the back of your throat as a mix of your drool and his pre cum drips down your chin. he lets out a breathy whine when your tongue drags along the vein under his cock—he’s always been sensitive there. you still know him like the back of your hand, like he’s the same, like he’s not a stranger but the man you love, like nothing’s changed.

nanami has felt the warmth of your mouth pull him into blinding pleasure more times than he can count, but he never thought something so vulgar could make him feel so warm in his chest. you bob your head down, taking him deeper into your mouth, and he chokes on a cry of your name as he cradles the back of your head.

“‘m close, love—f-fuck, you sh-should—” he tries to warn you with a gentle tap to your head, but you’re determined to push him off the edge, so your hand squeezes around his balls a bit tighter, rolling the sensitive sacs in your hand and making his hips buck upwards as he grunts in surprise. he cums with a twitch of his cock, his orgasm crashing over him sooner than he expected. you hear him gasp, moaning brokenly as his eyes close and his lips tug between his teeth, hips rolling into your mouth against his better judgment. you swallow what you can of the hot, sticky ropes of cum that paint your mouth, hand pumping the base of his cock where you can’t fit. every crack in his voice and every low call of your name as he spills into you makes the walls of your pussy clench around nothing, an ache steadily building between your legs.

“so good,” he pants, spilling the last few ropes of his cum as he cants his hips up, “f-feels so good.” you pull away, swallowing whatever’s in your mouth as you stare up at him, making his eyes close as he lets out a low groan at the sight. you giggle when his cock twitches again between his thighs, still hard and heavy between his legs.

“not enough, baby?” you tease, kissing just below his belly button before you climb onto his lap, cupping his face as he smiles softly.

“i suppose not,” he chuckles lightly, “i don’t think i’ll ever get enough of you.”

“i love you, kento,” you murmur again, kissing along his jaw and nipping at his skin. his hands grip at your hips, squeezing firmly as he guides your clothed cunt to rub against his cock, making you sigh against his neck as your clit rubs over him through the fabric. “so much, you know. i don’t think i could ever stop.”

“yeah?” he asks quietly, “you think so?”

“yes,” you pout, wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crevice of his shoulder. he wraps an arm tightly around you, rubbing the small of your back as he feels you as close as space permits you to get—and even then, it’s not close enough. “i’m pouring my heart out, right now. you could say ‘i love you too,’ you know. now would be a perfect time.”

you feel his chuckle rumble from his chest against yours, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh since he’s opened his eyes that day.

“no need to get so impatient, love,” he teases. nanami feels the sun soak his skin through the cracks of the curtains, and he sees the way it catches in your eyes and brings out the small flecks in your irises as you pull from the crook of his neck to press your forehead to his. the day has only begun, but he thinks for the first time in a long time, there’s more waiting for him. “i,” he presses a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, “love you too.”

“a lot?” you bat your lashes with a cheeky grin. he shakes his head in amusement.

“i’ll have to think about that one,” he pretends to ponder for a moment.

“kento,” you whine, pouting deeper. nanami chuckles once, then twice, and then soft, sweet laughter pours from his mouth like honey trickles from the comb. it makes you giggle with him, contagiously pulling you to join his moment of glee. his chest is light but his arms are heavy with the weight of you in them—and he can’t ask for more.

maybe nothing’s changed after all.

“a lot,” he agrees with a nod. “i love you a lot. more than anything.”

“i want you more than anything,” you whisper, gently grinding your hips down on him, biting your lip as he drags along your throbbing clit. you whimper softly when his hand travels under your shirt, kneading your breasts in his palms as you roll your hips against him.

“i think i can give you that,” he murmurs.

it happens quicker than you can imagine. your shirt is pulled over your arms and your bra is unclasped. nanami flips you both over so your back hits the mattress and he’s hovering over your chest, lips wrapping around a pebbled nipple as he sucks and rolls his tongue over it. your hand clutches at his blonde locks, head thrown against the pillow as you whine, back arching a little when his hand reaches for your other tit and his fingers rub and pinch at your nipple so as not to leave it neglected.

“k-kento, please,” you breathe, “more.”

he hums, switching his mouth and his hand to give the same attention to the other side, slotting a knee between your legs and spreading them wide. you’re dripping, pussy aching as it craves the stretch of his cock. it’s almost nauseating, how much you need him—thankfully, he seems to have an idea.

you breathe his name the same way you always do when he slips himself into you, breathless and in love, brimming with lust and awe, glossed with ache and need. he sets his jaw and presses his forehead to yours, feeling your tight walls squeeze him in as he lets you adjust. and when you buck your hips with a greedy whine, just like you always do, he all but pulls out completely before slamming into you, just like he always does.

“god, kento,” you moan, “so full. feels good—always make me f-feel good. only you.” he groans at your words, hips rutting into you desperately as he chases the friction of your wet cunt, lost on the way your walls flutter around him.

you were made for him, he thinks, the way your pussy hugs around him, the way he fits so perfectly, the way your bodies slot against each other just right when you pull him close. nanami kento is sure you were sculpted by steady hands, deliberate and slow—and he can only hope he’s enough to be yours, enough to reach for your hand and feel the way your fingers entwine and your heart seeps through your palm into his.

he’ll cradle it carefully, until he’s enough for you, until you’ll willingly take his heart when he hands it to you too.

but something tells him from the way your cling to him, arms around his neck, chests pressed so closely that your nipples graze, that you want his heart in your palm too.

“fuck,” he grunts, “missed fucking you like this,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as you mewl, raising your hips and meeting his sloppy thrusts halfway. “missed the way you take me so well, love. so tight,” he breathes.

he lets a hand travel between your bodies, rubbing at your clit in slow circles that make you squeal, legs wrapping around his waist as your thighs tremble. his fat tip kisses your sweet spot, the one he knows by heart as he angles his hips and slams into you with precision, the slow, sloppy roll of his hips building up your orgasm in a steady ache. your hands find his hair, tugging at the roots as you let wanton moans spill from your mouth. and he’s everywhere, his skin against yours, his mouth pressing hot, searing kisses along your jaw, his vein dragging along your walls as his cock curves into you just right.

you can feel the coil in your belly tighten until it’s just ready to snap, can feel yourself get closer to your high, can feel the way nanami is close too as he twitches in your dripping heat. he’s groaning into your neck, head falling into the juncture of your shoulder as he lets out deep grunts, balls heavy and aching to release.

“kento, kento,” you chant his name. it leaves a tender feeling swimming in his chest, fond and proud and a little grateful all at once. the way you say his name like that makes him think you still need him, that he’s still enough, that he’s still everything you want. and when you tug at his roots, letting out a soft sob as his thumb rubs harshly over your sensitive clit, he smiles a little against your skin. “‘m so close kento, n-need it. need it so bad, please.”

“let go,” he kisses your neck, “cum for me, love.”

and you do. hard.

it’s been as long for you as it has for him—sometimes you let yourself forget that. but he slams himself into your walls, your slick smeared messily along your thighs, and you cum on his cock with a silent sob. your back arches as you cling to nanami, tugging at his hair while he fucks you through your high, groaning deeply at the way your walls spasm around his cock.

your high sends him hurdling into his own release, his second orgasm rippling through his spine as pleasure burns through every nerve. nanami’s head falls to your shoulder, and he faintly registers your hand cradling the back of his head as he desperately ruts into you, rhythm sloppy. he paints your walls white, thick ropes of cum filling you up as he fucks his load deep into your sloppy cunt.

“god—you’re all i need,” he moans, “everything i need—c-can’t lose you, never you. i love you. i love you,” he chokes, panting as he trembles in your arms with the last new waves of his high. you’re repeating the words back—and through soft sniffles, he faintly registers—while your fingers are gently threading through his hair.

and when he slips out of you, slumping onto the bed beside you as he collects you in his arms, he realizes that this is the first time he’s laid on his side of the bed since he’s come home to you.

“i love you, kento,” you say for what feels like the millionth time that night. and you think you’ll keep repeating it for as long as he needs it. “thank you for coming home to me.”

“thank you for bringing me home,” he smiles, kissing your forehead.

you kiss over his scarred skin, he brings the sheets over your bodies, and nanami kento is home. nothing’s changed.

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