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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 8 months

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Astarion Very Happy Ending

So full disclosure, my Tav was a Selunite, and I can't stop thinking well if Bhaal can have a mortal chosen one, why can't Selune?

Also, spoiler warning, stop reading here if you don't want, but like damn girl I freaking turn a Shar priestess away from her god back to you, free a man from his devil's contact, high-key save the world, kill bhaals chocen, convince my vampiric lover to not sacrifice thousands of people, stop an entire goblin army from murdering Tieflings and druids alike, and literally free your daughter. A reward is in order!

This is that reward:

Astarion was slowly getting used to living in the shadows again, as loathe as he was to admit it. It was quite the transition, despite the fact that his time in the sun had amounted to less than a year. But what a lovely year it was. Nearly a perfect one in comparison to the rest of his life. And the promise of more of the same was a suitable balm to being cursed back into the darkness.

It was difficult, but with the love of his life by his side it was more than tolerable. Borderline beautiful in fact, to be able to live his life so freely despite the infuriating complications.

The money also certainly helped.

That was one thing Astarion always had over his brothers and sisters, his fantasies of a better life had always surrounded around Cazador's murder. Not his approval. He may have been completely unaware of the horrifying dungeon beneath their feet, but he did know where the deed to his estate and other properties were kept. And now had enough connections with the higher up's of Baldur's gate for some frankly exquisite forgeries. It had been a particularly satisfying feeling to sell all of his former master's possessions off, even more so when it came to the land. Almost like he was tearing apart his legacy and handing it off to the highest bitter, piece by piece.

Though, being there with you to find and settle in your own little corner of paradise was an even better feeling. Maybe it didn't quite reach his past dreams of grandeur, but it turned out settling in a quaint and poorly lit townhouse in the upper city was more than enough for him to be satisfied.

It was a good charming life, one that Astarion was sure he didn't deserve. But that certainly wasn't going to stop him from enjoying it. Though as much as he adored where he ended up, he'd be lying if he said it was perfect.

No, perfect would have been finding a way for him to ascend without becoming a monster, living in a world where he could be with you fully, completely, out in the sun like the kind of lover you deserved. It made him feel... startlingly inadequate. Everything you did had to be in accordance to his schedule. His lack of capabilities. And just because you always insisted it didn't matter didn't fix the feeling of inadequacy. He hated it, hated the fact that there were so many hours of the day that you couldn't share. He didn't regret his choice, not for a moment, but that didn't mean he was fully satisfied with the consequences.

But in his own defense, he did make up for it in other ways. Mildly frustrating and draining ways, if not a bit rewarding. It had been his own fault, falling so utterly and completely for such a goody two-shoes. A zealot to Selune, as fierce as she was compassionate, always trying to do what was fair and just. Always dragging Astarion on for the ride of her cleric duties.

But he couldn't blame you for all of his new do-gooder ways. Not when he was nearly the leader of a bizarre cult of repentant vampire spawn.

It was just the slightest bit exhausting to so often be playing the part of their heroic leader, fighting all of his murderous instincts to work for a better future for himself and the brethren he had personally damned. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get any satisfaction from it. It felt... good to teach them new ways to live. To give them the chance at the beautiful life he had managed to secure for himself.

He wouldn't do it forever, just until he was confident enough to be sure that his departure wouldn't lead to a massacre on either side. Then the two of you would be off to explore the lands, working to do your goddesses work with just a touch of hedonistic activities on the way.

Astarion was looking forward to it. He hadn't done all that work to be selfless forever. No, he was going to be forced to insist on a few years of having you all to himself, with only the occasional bits of volunteer work for the temple as interruption. Then the two of you could go back to galivanting about the lands being local heroes. But he had earned an extended vacation.

One that, luckily, he hadn't had to fight you on too much. That was just one other thing he loved about you, your complete understanding that Astarion would always be a little selfish, especially when it came to you. The one person who had ever really been his, who loved him, who understood him, who believed in him. Could he be blamed for wanting to have you all to himself?

And admittedly, he did have you more often then not. Even if on occasion he did have to share with your beloved goddess.

Astarion sighed as he watched you pray in the moonlight, completely absorbed in your quiet, mystical chants. Despite his distaste for the length of your prayer sessions, Astarion did like seeing your more ritualistic side. Just... maybe not for the morally correct reasons.

He was well aware that being so involved with a vampire was clearly against your religious doctrine. But it didn't matter. You still choose him, despite how the knowledge nearly made you an outcast amongst your own kind. But he mattered more than your reputation, more than the lessons you had been taught your entire life regarding love and evil.

You still had your faith, but you never let it shake the faith you had in him, something that he valued more than he could ever express. It was perhaps a sick thought, but it also made him feel exceedingly powerful, to know the true extent of your feelings. Even more connected. It was almost... like he was defiling you, corrupting a beautiful flower to turn away from the sun to something even brighter. A love that Astarion doubted most could ever hope to feel.

Perhaps that was not the best outlook on your religion, but oh well. He'd keep those thoughts to himself. What you didn't know wouldn't kill you. Besides... if anyone had been corrupted it was him, plagued with a new sense of loyalty and gods, justice. All from the beautifully strange woman kneeling in the moonlight.

Though, you sure were taking awhile tonight. Nearly twice as long as your usual nightly prayer. He hated to interrupt your worship but this was starting to cut into his time a bit here.

"My dear," Astarion called out, swinging his legs over your shared bed to stand, "Don't you think that you've been kneeling there for a touch too long?"

But you didn't respond, still muttering under your breath, even faster than before.

Astarion narrowed his eyes as he walked closer towards you, confused by your lack of response, "Darling-Tav?"

Astarion stopped, eyes wide as he got a solid look at your first. Your eyes were wide open, body rim rod straight as your irises glowed a vibrant blue light.

What in the nine hells was happening? Astarion kneeled next to you, his heart in his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Tav, love, can you hear me? What is this?"

You didn't answer, you didn't even acknowledge his presence. But you did start floating in the god damn air. Astarion stared, helpless as he watched you levitate, words that he didn't understand spilling from your lips.

Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. You fell unceremoniously to the floor. Astarion scrambled towards you, his heart in his throat as you started to come to. He settled your head in his lap, his hands shaking as he touched your face, lost on what he should be doing.

You blinked your eyes open slowly, that angelic glow still radiating from your irises. But you didn't look frightened, more... excited.

You grinned up at him, your voice slightly cracking when you murmured, "We've been blessed."

Astarion stared at you, brow furrowed. He was happy you were alive and speaking but...

"That's lovely?" Astarion tried, "But severely lacking in terms of an explanation. Are you okay?"

You nodded eagerly, suddenly sitting up with an unexpected amount of energy, "I'll explain later, we don't have much time."

What was it that compelled you religious types to be so cryptic? But you didn't give him anytime to question. Instead you wrapping your arms around his neck and smashing your lips together, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away.

He wrapped strong arms around your back, pulling you in closer, always helpless but to return your affection. But something about this was different. He could feel it, holy magic spreading through him through your lips, down throughout his veins, changing something inside of him. It wasn't unpleasant per say, but it certainly was startling. Startling enough for him to almost push you away, if it wasn't for the fact that he trusted you with everything inside of himself.

Neither of you pulled away until the blue fire in your eyes had died out, and Astarion was left with the intense sensation that something had changed, irrevocably inside of him.

You stared at each other, Astarion in confusion while you looked nothing short of gleeful, "Do you feel it?"

He felt... strange. A warmth still spreading through him that was settling. Astarion raised a brow at you, exceedingly impatient when he asked, "First, how about you explain to me what in the hells that was?"

But you didn't answer. Instead you stood with an adorable hop, lending a hand out to help him up, "Do you trust me?"

Astarion almost rolled his eyes as he took your hand, annoyed that he fell for someone that had just as much of a flair for the dramatic as he did, "You know I do."

You helped him to his feet before you started to mumble again, a startlingly familiar incantation seeping from your lips. It was the spell for daylight, the very same that you had used to help defeat Cazador. The kind that could now kill Astarion in mere moments.

He was too shocked at your audacity to even protest, believing for a split, terrifying second that he was about to die a fiery death. Sunlight suddenly filled the room, bright enough for Astarion to tightly shut his eyes.

Then...nothing. No burning, no pain, nothing but the sounds of you both breathing.

That didn't-how was he-what did you just do?

Astarion stared at you, absolutely flabbergasted with his mouth hanging open, staring at the borrowed daylight like a simpleton, "But how?"

You were still grinning ear to ear, looking happier than Astarion had ever seen you before. You grasped his hands in yours, your smile gentle as you explained, "I told you. We were blessed. Our Lady of Silver gave me one gift, and this is what I choose."

If sunlight wasn't already staring him in the face, Astarion would never believe it. But here he was, alive and standing under it's warmth. A gift from a goddess, spent on him of all creatures.

"It can't fix everything," You clarified with the slightest frown, "But it can fix this."

He could feel the truth in your words. He was still... wrong. A creature born of something awful, doomed to eternity and a life of bloodlust. But part of that wrongness had been culled, curling up and dying from Selune's holy magic, from your enduring love.

It was a dream he never thought possible. One that he had accepted never having. But here he was, here you were, continuing to give him the impossible.

It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Astarion reached up, cupping your face before confessing the truth he couldn't quell.

"I don't deserve you," He whispered, voice hoarse, "I'll never deserve you. Words can't express my thanks. You have given me everything, while I have nothing but myself to give in return. But it's always yours. Everything inside of me."

He meant every word, he always would. Until his last breath.

You shook your head, gentling cooing at him, "This is a time for celebration my love, not for doubt. You've earned this."

He hadn't. And he doubted you'd ever be able to convince him he had. But he'd still take it. Gladly.

"I love you," Astarion murmured, helpless to say anything else. He pressed his lips against yours, the gravity of his new life just starting to settle in his mind.

He was free, as free as he could ever hope for. You had achieved what Cazador could not, all without a hint of malice or horrifying sacrifice. But through kindness, love, and perseverance. You had already freed him once from his own mental shackles, his last remaining ties to the tyrant that made him.

And now you've done it again, saving him from at least a portion of the taint on his soul.

It was beautiful, wonderful, and Astarion would never waste a moment of it.

#astarion #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #spoilers #and that's how selune got herself a cult of 7000 vampiric spawn hoping for the same blessing #this is very fairytale romance #like mr. i'm not a fairytale prince is kind of acting like it here #or is he the saved princess?#up for debate #romance #very romantic #i think #fluff #very fluffy

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kafkaesque22girlfriend · 3 months

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The Damned P.1

Toji Zenin x fem! reader

Synopsis: forced to get in with the Zenin clan by your parents as a servant, Toji Zenin seemed to damn you more than himself….

Being a servant in the Zenin household was not for the weak-willed or the weak-minded, it took strong foundations of a strong mind to survive within these endless, lavishly adorned walls of the Zenin Compound. One of the three big clans in Jujutsu Society, blossoming the pure, clean bloodline of the strongest sorcerers in the modern and past Jujutsu eras.

Your parents pushed you into being here, young but not ditsy, focused yet polite. The Zenin really didn't care, they just wanted the free labour, but you did get a roof over your head when the Zenin took you in as a servant. Little did you know that your parents literally sent you off to serve strangers and live with them for God knows how long. Your cursed technique was strong and your parents wanted the Zenin to know that and get in with the family, even if you started as a lowly servant. To infiltrate? To gather information? To be married off? To destroy from the inside…? You didn’t know, nor did you care at this point.

The clan leader, Naobito Zenin, sent you off on your way as if he didn't give a single thought, as if he was washing away the dirt on his hands. You were young and inexperienced and you didn't deserve the reward of the bigger duties so you were sent Toji Zenin's way, the black sheep, the damned one in the Zenin clan. You would be the personal servant of Toji Zenin.

Which leads you here now, standing by the foot of his bed, ready to wake him up like you usually do. Late. It was nearing 11 am and the clan needed to be in the training quarters in about half an hour. You glanced at Toji, seeing the drool escape from his mouth, his hair roughed up, and the sheets that barely covered his naked chest. These were the only times you felt Toji not be intimidating. You opened up the curtains and the windows, letting the fresh air ventilate the room. He grunted when the light hit his eyes at the most perfectly uncomfortable angle.

“Get the hell out.” He groaned angrily as he covered his eyes with his bulky forearm.

“Rise and shine, Master Toji.” You say with a faint warmness, anything to keep this civilised and polite knowing he could lash out quickly. The light seeps through the room and bathes it in the sunlight. He looked peaceful lying there, it's shame you had to wake him. He never looked so peaceful while he was awake, and, sadly, we all know the reason why. Toii grumbled and groaned, lifting his arm from his eyes.

“Can't even fuckin' sleep in this damn house.” He opened his eyes and was met by the sight of the sun hitting against your silhouette. He then looked at your face and rolled his eyes, a sour expression filled his face once more. “And do me a favour, and don't call me 'master' if you don't want your teeth punched in.” Toji fucking hated that, fucking hated it all.

You immediately frown. “It's not like I want to call you that, you are my superior. I work for you, I have to refer to you as that.” You explain to Toji as if he didn't already know it clear as day. “Would you like me to bring in a gong and wake you up like that?” You say, a small smile tugging at your lips at the insane hypothetical.

“I don't give a damn if you have to call me that, just drop it.” He growled against his pillow, glaring at you in the process. Toji then sat up from the bed, resting his head on his right hand as he looked at you blankly. He couldn't help but believe that there was some charm to you in how you were so polite. Your expression had an innocence to it that he had never come across in the cesspit that was the Zenin compound. “If you dare bring a gong in here, I'll break it and then your ribs.”

You knew that he was very much capable of doing that, so you didn't push further. But your mouth ran faster than your brain.

“Well then Toji, if you break my ribs...who will be making you breakfast every morning? Speaking of which, if you want food, I'm making some. So get up.” You say a little more firmly this time, you've never been this challenging towards your superiors, part of you wants to take it back, what if the clan deject you for being disrespectful? You frown slightly and leave the room to head back to the kitchen and finish preparing his breakfast.

The first thing he did when you left the room was let out a groan of frustration. It was always like this, you were being too much of a pushover to him. Always too kind. That was what irritated him the most. Maybe he was projecting. He needed to stop thinking that. Toji got dressed into his montsuki and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and freshen himself up, he hated how every day started the same.

Soon, you heard his footsteps walking towards the kitchen, a few seconds later his hulking figure appeared at the doorway, leaning against the frame as he crossed his arms.

“I can make my own breakfast.” He declared in a low and husky voice.

“No, you can't.” You say politely but your words carry some weight to them that resounded throughout the whole room.

Each clan member had a specific section of the compound to themselves, so you had an entire kitchen to yourself to prepare food for Toji. He couldn't make his breakfast even if he tried, servants were solely assigned that duty.

You glance up at him leaning against the doorway, you finish plating up his Teishoku and serve them, you place it on the kitchen island in front of you. “Coffee sir-? I mean Toji..” You say softly, fumbling over your words but correcting yourself.

Your words irked him like nothing else, you were so nice to him. He loathed it. What made you so kind in the face of someone like him? “Quit this 'sir' bullshit.” He was trying to play it cool, his eyebrows slightly raised as he spoke. Internally he was confused by your ongoing kindness, you were like this from day one. He didn't like the fact that he had to work around your kindness.

“I apologize. Bad habit.” You let out a nervous chuckle, trying to ignore the burning green gaze zeroing in on you. Your expression was trying to hide the fact that you were uncomfortable with his presence. Toji was a little more than impressed by how you were handling him like this still. After all, most people would be scared shitless already.

As you hand him his coffee, Toji notices the band-aids on your fingers. The skin looked red and brittle and it made him raise an eyebrow. “What happened to them? And don't say 'nothing' or 'it's nothing.” Toii muttered under his breath, trying to distance himself but still be curious at the same time.

“Oh, I burned myself by accident, the stove was too hot.” You respond a little curtly, turning your back and starting cleaning up and clearing away. It was clear you didn't want to talk about it, the real reason was rather daunting as Naoya Zenin threatened to break your fingers because you didn't do a task correctly.

Toji watched with intent simmering eyes as you turned your back to him. The first thing was that your reasoning behind it was obvious bullshit. You were lying through your teeth but quite frankly he didn't car enough to pry even further. "You're really clumsy, aren't you?”

Your shoulders relax as you sigh out, thankful he wasn't reading into it. “I am...I am. ..quite clumsy.” You breathe out.

You both know damn well you were the opposite but for now, it'll do. You turn around and take his empty tray once he finishes eating, giving him an agreeable smile. “Your training starts soon.”

Toji raised his eyebrow as an unamused look was engrained on his face. Why was his rudeness not affecting you in any way? Maybe you weren't listening to a thing he said, which made him even more annoyed. So he decided to try another approach. He just...didn't like how you...talked to him. “Can you stop being so polite to me? I never understand why servants are like this to their masters. Just do your job and stop acting like this.” He grunted.

You turn around and glared at him, annoyed that he didn't realize that you’re just doing your job. Anything less than perfection and obedience would be punished. But then again...who the hell were you to argue with a Zenin? “If that's...what you prefer.” You shrug your shoulders. You thought maybe he would appreciate some form of kindness considering the way his family actively despised him.

“Good...because there's no reason to be nice to me when I'm anything but.” He warned me you lowly. Toji was expecting you to break and lash out at him. Yet your reaction and expression left him feeling a little off-put. Why? Why weren't you saying anything? Why aren't you letting him walk all over you? He didn't like those thoughts.

Reluctantly, you nod your head, lips thinning into a straight line, and you try to stay as neutral as possible. If this is what he wanted, who the hell were you to argue? After finishing cleaning the kitchen, you make a move to leave the room. As you made your way to leave, Toji couldn't help but notice that your back was as straight as an arrow. Your body looked so proper and elegant, unlike others. Just your simple back in that tight-fitting kimono was enough to make him stare a few moments longer than necessary. That's when he called out to you and spoke with a neutral expression: “Do you always have to be so proper and respectful?”

Yet his voice was...softer.

You stop in your tracks. “I'm just doing my job.” You reply quietly, trying to get him to grasp that you're just doing what you're supposed to do. You walk away and leave him wordless from the kitchen, letting your words linger in his brain a lot longer than he should have.

pt 2 coming soon, get ready for angst and sexy times in the near future.

#toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji angst #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu toji #toji fluff

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hgfictionwriter · 3 months

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Teasing

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's not a particularly jealous person, but when it comes to you, well, things are different. You and Jessie are missing each other while Jessie's out with the team and you're at an event.

A/N / Warning: Inspiration finally struck again. The usual warnings still apply - smut, language, etc.. Hope you all enjoy! Oh, and I defaulted back to Jessie being with Chelsea. I'll switch over eventually!

gif credit to @glimmerofawesome

"How's your night going, beautiful?" Jessie blocked out the din of the bar she and the team were in as she sent you a text.

"It's fine. Missing you, wish you were here. How's your night?"

"It's okay. Pretty boring, but I've still gotta stay for a while longer. You know, fulfill my social duty and all."

"Too bad. I'm heading out soon. I hate these networking events. I've dealt with enough drunk flirting for one night."

Jessie sat up a bit in her seat, eyes narrowing at her phone. "Sorry, what?" She typed out.

"You know. Smarmy partners from out of town getting a bit too confident after a few drinks. I'm okay - please don't worry, but yeah, promises of dancing and a good time despite me explicitly saying I have a girlfriend. A gorgeous and wonderful one, at that."

Jessie's chest tightened and burned as she read the message. You were beautiful and charming, so it was really no surprised that someone would hit on you. Still, she didn't have to like it.

"Well, I'm glad you're leaving. I'm sorry you had to deal with that. Hopefully it hasn't been too bad."

"As if you're a stranger to being flirt with lol. I've seen the way the girls look at you ;) I mean, I should know, I'm one of them. But no, it's all good. Like I said, just makes me miss you."

"Well, text me when you're home so I know you made it safe. And get away from all those lecherous girls (and guys?). I don't like hearing about them looking at my girl ;)"

"I know, baby. Believe me, when their eyes were raking over me, all I thought about was you and the way you look at me when you're on top of me."

Jessie's eyes widened momentarily as her head snapped up to look around, suddenly very aware of everyone around her. Thankfully, everyone seemed mostly preoccupied. Before she could think beyond the visual of pinning you to the bed beneath her, her phone buzzed again.

"They don't know how good you fuck me. They don't know how good you make me feel."

"Fuck," Jessie whispered before she could stop herself. The feeling that went through her was instantaneous. She fidgeted in her seat, eyes darting around self-consciously before tapping out a reply.

"Jesus christ, baby girl." Send. "What are you trying to do to me?" She exhaled shakily and tried to ignore the heat she felt rising to her cheeks.

"What do you mean?"

She smirked. You knew damn well what you were doing.

"Babe."

"I mean, I guess it wouldn't hurt to stay out longer. Go dancing."

Jessie's grip tightened subconsciously on her phone as her eyes bore into the characters on the screen.

"Well then I'm coming there." Jessie rapidly typed out her reply, holding back the desire to write "Not without me, you're not." Jessie didn't consider herself a controlling person, she trusted you and you were both secure in your relationship together, but well, you just had a way of working her up. The thought of someone else wanting you, touching you, having you - she knew it was all harmless, but it drove her crazy nonetheless.

"Yeah? And what?"

Jessie looked around again before responding.

"And I'll make sure the only person who's grinding on you is me."

"Mm, baby. I love when you get like this."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Jessie's mouth.

"Your hips against mine. I'll move your hair to the side and kiss down your neck, my hand on your back and pulling you close to me." Jessie bit her lip briefly. "And if you're good, I'll lead you by the hand to the bathroom and fuck you. Your cum pooling in my hand as you tighten around me."

"Oh my fucking God, Jess. You're so hot. You've nearly got me touching myself in the back of this cab. I can picture you next to me, your hand moving up my thigh. I'd give anything to have your fingers inside of me."

Jessie exhaled again, looking around the room as she steeled herself. She checked the time on her phone.

"Baby, please. I need you so bad already. I want you on top of me."

Jessie's eyes scanned the text before she locked her screen again. This was getting out of hand. It buzzed once more.

"Show me I'm yours. I wanna scream your name."

"Hey, you okay?"

Jessie startled, nearly jumping out of her seat as her head snapped up to see Niamh looking at her with concern.

"Oh! Yeah, yeah," she nodded, doing her damnedest to seem nonchalant. She grimaced a bit. "I'm just not feeling that good. My head's pounding." She really should try to stay longer...but fuck it. "I think I'm gonna go."

"Oh okay, well, feel better. I'll see you at practice tomorrow?" Niamh asked as she gave Jessie's shoulder a squeeze.

"Yeah, for sure. I'm gonna go - you can let people know if they ask, right?"

"Don't worry. Rest up."

Jessie gave a half-hearted smile and wave and was out the door.

"Where are you?"

"On my way home. I'm so wet for you. I need to do something about it."

"Fuck," Jess breathed again. She typed, "I'm headed home, too. My baby needs me to take care of her."

"You have no idea. No one makes me feel like you do."

"They better not." She replied simply, biting her tongue on the matter as she climbed into the back of the car.

"Well, I guess you better get home soon and show me who this pussy belongs to."

Jessie exhaled sharply before readjusting her position. The tension that was mounting between her legs kept her from sitting still. Her mind was racing with thoughts and images of the two of you together. She needed you. She wanted to take you. And even with how much she loved and respected you, she wanted to claim you.

She rolled out her shoulders and gripped her knee tightly as she tried to relax.

Time went by achingly slowly as you sent teasing message after teasing message. Your messages were exhilarating, but taunting at times. It only made matters worse when her phone buzzed showing a phone call from you. She swallowed as she picked up.

"Hi, my love," your voice came through from the other end of the line. Jessie gulped once more as her nails dug into her leg again. "Don't say anything. I just got home. I'm getting undressed and I'm getting ready for you. Here - listen." Jessie's eyes fluttered shut and her jaw dropped as sounds of your wetness filled her head. Her eyes only opened again when your voice filtered back in. "That's how much I need you. It's all for you."

"I love you so much," Jessie said as she bundled her shirt in a fist, loss for words otherwise and desperate for some kind of release.

"I love you too, baby," you replied softly. "I can't wait until you fill me up."

Jessie's mouth fell agape once more. The craziest part of it all is that you were nearly as reserved as she was in day to day life. The fact that you were like this with her and her alone made her feel like she was on top of the world. She'd allowed you into a special place in her heart, in her being, and you'd done the same for her. Nothing could be better.

By the time the cab pulled up in front of your apartment, Jessie felt like she might burst out of her skin.

She took the stairs two at a time as she ascended the stairwell up to where you were waiting. She grunted in frustration as she fumbled with the keys before the lock turned and she threw the door open. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the light coming from your room down the hall. She'd taken off her shirt and thrown it aside and was already undoing her jeans by the time she rounded the doorframe to see you lying on the bed, head thrown back, fingers massaging your clit.

"Fuck, babe," Jessie breathed as she quickly finished undressing and climbed up onto the bed, immediately grasping your hand and giving you a kiss on the back of it before pushing your legs back and tasting you.

You let out a cry at the touch and placed your hand on the back of Jessie's head as she began to lap up your juices.

"Oh my god, baby," you moaned, hips gyrating up into her mouth. "I love you. I needed you so bad. Oh my god."

She moaned in appreciation as her lips closed around your clit and she sucked hard at the sensitive bud. She smiled as your hips jerked at the action.

"You taste so good," she mumbled as her tongue trailed up and down between your folds. "And you're all mine." She grinned again as your fingers tightened in her hair.

"No one else's," you affirmed in a breathy voice, followed up by another moan as she flicked her tongue across your clit. She continued to devour you and it wasn't long before your cries filled the room. "Don't stop," you pleaded as you gripped her hair tightly and began to cum. She moaned deeply as your legs flexed around her head and she continued to lap up your juices like it was the only thing that mattered in this world.

When your legs finally relaxed and your hips fell back down to the bed, she laid one more kiss on your lips before wiping her chin and climbing up your body. As she did, ran two fingers along your folds and grinned at the small cry you let out as your hands gripped her biceps. She leaned down and whispered in your ear as her fingers traced around your entrance.

"You still want me to fill you up, baby?" She nipped at your earlobe. "Make your pussy mine all over again? Make sure you keep thinking of me and only me anytime someone else wants you?"

"Oh god," you moaned in need as you writhed beneath her.

"Do you want me, baby?" She asked softly as her fingers continued to tease you.

"Always," you whimpered. "Oh god, Jess. Please, I need you inside me."

She wrapped her free arm around your back and leaned down to tenderly kiss your jawline.

"You're the only one for me," she said before sinking her fingers deep inside of you. Your breath caught in your throat and she bit down on your collarbone, stopping herself before it got to be too much.

"Fuck, you feel so amazing," she breathed in reverie. "You feel incredible every time." She shook her head as she slowly pulled out and moved back in. "God, so tight."

You didn't hold back, your moans filling the room as Jessie began to pick up her pace. "You feel so good inside me, Jess." You clutched her to you. "You fill me perfectly."

Jessie growled in approval as she began to fuck you harder. Even if you hadn't laid a finger on her, she was dizzy with pleasure from knowing how good she made you feel and to know it was because of her - no one else - her.

"Baby, you're perfect for me," she praised as she took you in.

A night out with her team, fan adoring her and flirting with her, she didn't need it - all she wanted was to be with you right now. To be the one to take you high and over the edge. To fall asleep with you, wake up with you and breathe you in.

Your grip tightened on her and your cries rose in pitch. She kissed your neck tenderly.

"Go ahead, baby. I'm here, I won't let go," she coaxed you as your sounds echoed off the walls and you began to tighten around her fingers.

Her name fell from your lips as your whole body tensed up and all the pleasure building inside of you released. You were vaguely aware of the whimpers that came from her as she bucked against you and pulled you ever closer.

As you drifted down from your orgasm, she slowly and gently kissed up your neck and face. Your mind and body finally calmed and she reached your lips. She gave you a soft kiss coupled with a sly grin.

"Hi," she said. You were still catching your breath, but managed to nod and return a lazy smile.

"Hi," you chuckled. You brought your hands up to cup her face and kissed her again, deeper this time. She returned it earnestly, grazing a thumb across your cheekbone. You smiled once more and gave her a soft peck. "Thanks for coming home. I missed you."

She laughed and kissed your cheek. "I missed you, too. Could you tell?"

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso #woso community #woso x reader #canwnt #chelsea wfc #woso imagine

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skzdarlings · 4 months

Text

sharing a bed ; seungmin ; sequel

masterlist.

original one-shot.

pairing: kim seungmin/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers. sequel to sharing a bed one-shot linked above. morning afters. running from feelings. making reader jealous. confrontation with a creep and light violence. sexual content includes blow-jobs, hand jobs, strap-on blowjobs, 69ing, rimming, pegging, light choking. some brat seungmin and sort of brat tamer reader (kinda just likes the brat lol). word count: 7k.

Kim Seungmin, the perpetual thorn in your side and ache in your head, is torturing you.

Not the fun kind of torture, either. You had your fill of that two nights ago when a silly scheme resulted in a horny happenstance and you let yourself get carried away. Your careful control not only slipped, but fell right into the hands of someone you once disliked.

It left you befuddled in the light of the day, when you woke to Seungmin curled around you, his cheek pressing into your bicep and his leg hooked around yours. Not to mention his morning wood digging into your hip. It surfaced memories of the pretty and unexpected piercing you found there, how your idea of this guy was so so wrong. And it made you wonder what else you were wrong about, and all the ways this burgeoning something could go wrong in turn. Your thoughts spiralled.

You were no longer handcuffed, so you slipped out of bed and walked right out the front door. You hoped a walk through the brisk winter morning would help clear your mind. It did, but only momentarily. When you got back to the vacation house and ran into Seungmin, you fumbled. Badly. You meant to be pragmatic but came across dismissive. Something about how last night was the only night. Something about how you were bad at commitments. Something about being better off friends.

Seungmin was silent the whole time, letting you ramble like an idiot. Then his eyes narrowed and he laughed. It was an airy, unpleasant, and derisive sound.

“Trust me,” he said. “We will never be friends.”

“Well, fine,” you said, bristling despite the fact you were the one rejecting him. What did you care if he hated you again? You didn’t. You shouldn’t. “Good.”

It was not good. Saying it left a sour taste in your mouth and a pit in your stomach.

And despite it all, your stupid horny hindbrain did not relent, purring like a kitten when Seungmin gave you a judgemental once-over and scoffed. You could not help but remember the very different noises he made last night, again and again, in your hands and mouth, from your actions and words.

You will never look at him the same way again. You have no idea how to move forward, but you know you can never go back. Pretending nothing happened will not work for once.

It freaks you out. You are usually good at shucking attachments. His cold acceptance should not have hurt. What did you care? This vacation would end and you would go back to your own lives, right? So you let Seungmin shove past you. He ignored you for the rest of the day. When he started an argument later, causing everyone else to groan, you replied like always, but it was half-hearted at best.

Oh god, you think now, rubbing the bridge of your nose, I can’t start thinking with my damn heart.

Emotional attachments and long-term romantic liaisons never turn out well. You cut a dashing figure but your many flaws eventually find their way to the surface. It is not worth the inevitable heartbreak when someone sees under the charming mask to the real you.

Rather than suffer later, you are suffering now, brooding over a beer while doing your damnest to not look across the bar. You know you will not like what you see.

You and your friends only have a couple more nights at the vacation lodge, so you all went down to the nearby resort to drink and dance and enjoy a fun night out.

You are not having any fun, of course. You are sitting on a bar stool, all alone at the counter, in your signature leather jacket as you hunch over your drink and glare at nothing in particular.

Seungmin, on the other hand, is suddenly a dazzling socializer rather than an obnoxious stuck-up jerk like he used to be. You expected him to sit in a corner, making snarky remarks all night, but instead he has been moving from person to person, flirting with anything that breathes.

He is also wearing an obscene pair of jeans. No one else in the friend group seemed to notice, not a single eye so much as twitching in his direction, but you noticed. Oh, yeah, you fucking noticed. The second he came bounding the stairs, swinging on a stupid baggy letterman jacket like the twerpy little prep he is. His dark hair neatly combed, bangs swept off his forehead, brightening his gaze.

The jeans. The stupid fucking jeans. Straight-cut denim that has absolutely no business cupping his ass the way it does. And why does he have such a nice ass anyway? It also has no business looking that way.

Kim Seungmin. What a nightmare.

You take a swig of beer and glare at the wall. You tell yourself not to look at him. He is probably leaning over some equally prissy knob and offering to buy them a glass of milk or whatever people like them drink.

So, no. You will not give him the satisfaction. It is no coincidence that in all the time you have known him, Seungmin has never been flirtatious or promiscuous, but the second you turn him down he is slobbering all over anything that moves.

You will not let him get to you. You will not look at him. You will not react.

Except he is already getting to you. So you look over. You react.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumble, abandoning your beer and stomping down from your stool.

Seungmin is huddled in a booth with some colossal bitch of a man. You recognize him from the other night, remembering how much time he spent harassing the bar staff. Seungmin doesn’t know that. He might be your enemy – or whatever – but you are not gonna leave the guy with that kind of jerk. And you are not secretly thrilled that you are justified in storming over there, drawing up to the table with all the aggression that has been building inside you.

You slap a hand on the table, bringing their attention to you. Seungmin gives you a once-over, then smiles that stupid smile of his, all boxy and puppyish, like you are the funniest punchline to the funniest joke in the world. There was a time you used to fantasize about swiping that smile off his mouth. You are still thinking about occupying his mouth, just not like that.

“Move along,” you say to the creep.

“Excuse me?”

He is already drunk. You can smell it as much as see it. Seungmin is looking very smug and you start to feel like he picked this guy on purpose.

Seungmin drives you crazy, he really does. One second he is all good boy, the next he is purposefully throwing himself at a creep just to get a rise out of you. You feel like he would take a running leap off the mountainside if he was inclined to a prove a point to someone. He is fearless and ridiculous and you want to hate him. You want him to be the boring two-dimensional snob you thought he was. You have no idea what to do with the complicated man in front of you.

That’s a lie, you think, meeting his gaze. You know exactly what to do with him.

You swear his eyes are twinkling. He slouches back comfortably, arms crossed.

“I told you once,” you say, tearing your gaze from him to look at the creep. “Now move along.”

“Try me.”

The guy was only bothering women and seems uninterested in Seungmin so you suspect he just wants to piss you off, but then he puts a hand on him anyway, grabbing Seungmin by the arm so suddenly that it surprises him.

Before Seungmin can shake him off, you snatch the guy by his wrist and twist. He yelps, struggling to wrestle his arm back from your iron grip. You slam him against the back of the booth.

“Touch him again,” you say, “and I will break your hand. You wanna try me?”

He opens his mouth, no doubt to spew some smelly rejoinder, but you don’t stick around for it. You grab Seungmin by the elbow and yank him out of the booth. You drag him away.

“Excuse me,” Seungmin says, not politely, ripping his arm back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I think I’m saving your dumb ass from getting felt up by every creep on this mountain.”

“Meh-meh-meh,” he mocks, dodging when you reach for him again. “I’m having fun. I don’t need you to do anything. It’s not like you’d really care if something happened to me. Bad,” he smirks, “or good.”

He knows he has you cornered. You might have the physicality over him, but he is holding this entire scene in his hands. You can only rub your jaw and shake your head, trying and failing to remember how to act indifferent.

He has the tiniest drop of cream on his upper lip, leftover from the sugary abomination someone bought him.

You say nothing in reply to his deliberate antagonizing. You plant one hand on your hip and reach for him with the other. When he tries to dodge, you grab him by the shoulder, firmly putting him in place. He does not move the second time, standing still while you wipe a thumb across the sugary residual.

Then you push at his bottom lip, press down, flicking your thumb so it bounces back. His stare is unwavering. He is not the blushing type, but he noticeably swallows.

“Come on,” you say, zipping up your jacket. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“What if I don’t want to?” he asks.

You grab the back of his neck and drag him right up against you.

“I didn’t ask,” you say.

“Friends don’t get to make demands, dumbass,” he says, sneering the word friends. He does not wriggle away, but he does not fully surrender either. He meets your stare head-on, unmoving and unintimidated.

He is going to make you say it. He is not going to let you act sexy and charm your way out of it. He is going to stand in this bar with your hand uselessly holding his neck until you do.

“Fine,” you say. You exhale. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said all that dumb shit. I’m a moron.”

“Yes,” he says. “You are.”

“I didn’t think it would matter that much anyway.”

“Because you aren’t the romantic type,” he says dryly.

“Because I didn’t think you’d care,” you admit. “You don’t like me and we don’t get along anyway. I just—” You finally drop your hand, waving at nothing and looking away. You can feel him glaring at you. “Look, I suck, I get it. Believe me, I know all the ways I suck. I figured I’d spare us the mess when you figured that out so I just walked away while it was still good.”

“You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought,” he says. He is still frowning at you. “I already know how much you suck. It was the first thing I noticed, you arrogant, womanizing ass.”

“Hey now…”

“You’re vulgar and loud and, for someone without a dick, you think with it constantly.”

“I… don’t…” You do.

“And for some reason even though you are the biggest idiot and the worst person I have ever met,” he says, still glaring, “I still like something about you. Because even though you’re determined to not let anyone see your good side, unfortunately you have one. Even though it’s buried so deep you have to walk into hell to find it.”

It did not really occur to you that Seungmin has already seen your worst qualities. Because you did not get along, you never felt a need to hide those attributes. Inadvertently, you have been more open and honest with this annoyingly handsome brat than anyone else you have ever known.

You cannot help the smile tugging at your lips. Seungmin rolls his eyes.

“You’re hopeless,” he says, shaking his head as he shoves past you. “Take me home, idiot, before I come to my senses.”

You turn to follow him, only to get bopped on the nose when he shoves a pointed finger in your face.

“If you even think about acting like a moron in the morning,” he says, “I will kill you and make it look like an accident.”

You draw a cross over your heart and nod. He huffs in aggravation, turning on his heel and stomping outside.

“You’re the worst,” he says. He swings open the door and stomps into the snowy night, seemingly unbothered by the fluffy bits of snow swirling around his face. He just swings up his hood and marches through the downy white carpet. “You better make this worth my while,” he says.

Your eyes are on his ass in those jeans, thinking about how you very much will be making it worth his while. You look up when he keeps grumbling to himself, a marked sign he is maybe more nervous than he is letting on. You remember his stubbornness before his eventual acquiescence, the way he hid his face at his most vulnerable moments.

You might be in the habit of ducking out the door, but he deflects just as much with his wit.

You hurry your pace, catching up to him. He is still muttering to himself, head down, a soft layer of snow dusting his jacket and hood. It must be all over your head but you hardly feel the cold. Your mind is on warmth, that stupid heart of yours suddenly flooded with it.

You want this to be good for him, even if he would never outright ask for you to be kind. It is all the more reason to make sure you are. You really were such an idiot.

Your grip is firm but not rough, hand curling protectively over his shoulder. This touch invites more than demands.

He stops in place, looking at you with a wary glare. It disappears when you swoop in. His hood falls as you tug him close. He goes without protest, lips parting under yours with a claiming so heated that the cold does not stand a chance against you.

You try to keep it romantic, a rare act of restraint on your part, but the supposed good boy drags the zipper of your coat down, down, down, then grabs your belt and tugs. You stumble, uncharacteristically shaky, gasping against his lips when he grinds his knuckles against the zip of your jeans.

“Tsk,” he says, lips still brushing yours. “Not prepared.”

“I was planning on sitting around feeling sorry for myself,” you say, with a helpless laugh despite his teasing. You grab his wandering hand, leading it away from your crotch. You are eternally grateful your dick is the kind you can leave in your sock drawer, because resisting him right now would have been impossible otherwise.

“Trust me,” you say. “I’ll make up for it.”

“Fine,” he says. “I will. You better not let me down.” He looks at you when he says this, as close to imploring as Seungmin ever does.

You feel the weight of that trust. You nod, swallowing, looking at his lips, full and pink from the hard press of your kiss. You lean in for more when he abruptly zips your coat again, all the way up to your chin so he smacks your jaw.

“Come on then,” he says with that mean little laugh as he scampers away, grinning at you. “Are you gonna prove it or not?”

It is a short drive back to the cabin, and a torturous one to boot. Not because Seungmin touches you, but because he doesn’t, and he won’t let you touch him either. You try to put a hand on his knee but every attempt is rebuffed. All you get is that cheeky grin or a glare, then a mere flick of his wrist as he brushes you away like lint.

Somehow it is more maddening than a direct touch. You can feel him everywhere just by his proximity. He even jumps out of the car before you unbuckle your seatbelt. He is inside the cabin before you reach the door.

You are panting from the sprint up the driveway, trying to keep up, not entirely convinced he won’t play you for a sucker and run right out the back door. It would be like Seungmin to make you chase him up the mountainside. You wouldn’t blame him for making you prove yourself, considering what an ass you were.

But he is waiting inside the cabin. Everyone else is out for the night and should be gone for hours. When you close the door, sealing out the cold and the world, this cabin feels flush with more heat than you know what to do with.

You do not hesitate. The tantalizing promise of more is like a touch on its own, heightened by his stubborn refusal to give you anything easily. It makes catching him that much more satisfying, that soft sound all the sweeter when you pull him into your arms and finally steal that kiss.

His skin is cool from the weather but his mouth is warm, the kiss searing hot. He digs his blunt nails into the arms of your jacket, pressing the whole length of his hard body against yours.

You remember his unexpectedly tender places, how just a faint stroke behind his ear will have him curling into you, how looping some hair around your fingers and tugging will deepen the rumbling sound that spills past his lips.

You unzip his coat while kissing, licking into him while he scrambles to help strip. The coat hits the floor in a damp heap. You separate for just a moment, giving him the chance to tug his hoodie up and off. You toss your own jacket over the nearby couch, then hook your fingers into his belt loops and pull him close.

His hair is in an endearing state of dishevelment and he looks flushed from the rush of warmth after the chill. Just looking at him like this has you throbbing. You try to imagine telling the old you that you would feel that way, that the annoying friend-of-a-friend who mutually hated your guts would be looking at you like he wants to devour you and let you return the favour.

You can’t imagine believing it. Now it feels completely natural, letting him walk you backwards until your back hits the wall and his chest is pressed to yours, rising and falling with the quickness of his breath.

He is looking aside, contemplatively. You cup his jaw and draw him back to you, unable to resist a breathless laugh when he nips at your fingers. You do not shy away or let go, and that seems to placate him. He practically melts against you, your hand curving around the shape of his cheek, lowering to curl gently around the side of his neck.

“We should go upstairs,” you say. The stairs are right beside you, but somehow the bedroom seems too far.

Impossibly, ridiculously far, when Seungmin flicks some hair out of his eyes and looks at you intensely.

“Don’t you want me on my knees?” he asks.

Your response is not a real word, just a rough sound. He smirks, but is still flushed and a little shaky as he sinks onto his knees. He gets your belt open, tugs it free, and tosses it to the side. The sight of him licking his lips has you seeing stars before he even leans in.

You brush some of his hair back, looking down at his face as he focusses on unzipping your jeans. He has the fly down when you catch your breath and your senses.

You gather the hair at his nape in your fist and tug, firm and sharp. His mouth falls open and his breath stutters, eyes so dark and lips so wet and plush that you are tempted to drive his face right between your legs, where is obviously offering to be.

But that’s not how you want to do this, not yet. You move from his hair to his neck, wrapping your hand around his throat and watching his eyelashes flutter with surprise. There is always a breath of panic in that surprise, adrenaline fueling the flood of desire that follows. He is visibly hard, straining in those sinful jeans, breathing harder as you none-too-nicely push him down onto the stairs.

“What are you doing,” he says, though it sounds like less like a question than acceptance. Continue, waving his hand like a prince on silk sheets even though he is sprawled on his back on the staircase.

“Making it worth your while,” you say. He is not wearing a belt because these jeans are made for his body, snug and perfect and fitted everywhere, so it is just a matter of unbuttoning—

Oof.

He plants his foot on your chest like last time, pushing you back. He blinks innocently.

“Shoes first,” he says.

You smile, though it less playful than predatory, a promise in the flash of your teeth. You nonetheless obey his silly whim as you tug off one shoe than the other. It leaves a damp patch on your shirt which he remarks on. You roll your eyes but tug your shirt off, sports bra following.

The second time you push him down, you are even less nice. You gather his hands in yours and pin them above his head, holding him there when he squirms ineffectively.

“You’re kind of a brat,” you say, yanking his zipper down. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

“You,” he says, panting around the word. “Jerk.”

You laugh, then cover his mouth with yours, swallowing the moan that takes him by surprise. His hips buck towards you when you reach into those jeans to take him in hand. He wriggles in your hold, arms straining while his hips lift toward you for more, following the snapping rhythm of your hand. You trace the dick piercings that caught you by surprise last time, the metal smooth under your rolling thumb.

You only release him when you duck down, tasting for yourself, relishing in the sounds that spill out of him. He claws at your bare shoulder, spreading his legs to make room for you to lay between them. His head falls back, resting on the step above while you work him in your mouth.

“I’m—I’m—” His voice gets lighter, breathier, his orgasm hitting him all at once. He throws an arm over his face instinctively, head thrown back, hips lifting. It catches you by surprise, making you choke just a bit, but he is already coming so you ride it out.

He is still twitching when he finishes, gasping behind his arm when you roll a thumb around his piercing again. When he hisses, knees jerking, you let go.

Knowing him better than you ever thought you would, you move, stretching out alongside him. You tug him into your arms and he goes without hesitation, burying his face in your neck. You snake a hand under his shirt, stroking his back affectionately.

Once more, you are genuinely endeavouring to be sweet.

Once more, he shoves his hand down your pants.

“Hello—” It is all you manage before he is touching you, finding all that wet desire and rubbing a little haphazardly. It makes you laugh and you grab his wrist, slowing him down. “Easy,” you say, showing him a better pace. “Just like that is good.”

He learns quickly. It was the same last time. Every idea you introduced, he contemplated, experimented, then excelled. With just a nudge now, he skillfully obliges. He is breathing hard against your throat, pressed so close to your whole body, his fingers finding all your secrets and working them out. You slide a hand down his backside, squeezing a handful of his ass. The sound he makes has you coming faster than usual.

He puts his hand on your thigh, then lifts his head and grins at you.

“I’m still winning,” he says.

“It’s still not a contest,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow.

“It is,” he says. “And I’m winning.”

“I see.”

You scoop him into your arms and cart him up the stairs. He situates himself by the time you reach the bedroom, legs around your waist and arms around your shoulder.

“Still winning?” you ask.

“Obviously,” he replies.

You shake your head and sigh but with no real animosity, just like his smirk is more playful than vicious. You still whole-heartedly believe he is capable of catching you off guard, so you are prepared for the brat switch to flip at the slightest provocation.

You drop him onto the bed with a gentle thump, then cross your arms and look down at him.

“Can I leave you unsupervised for two minutes while I get my dick?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he says, blinking innocently. “Can you?”

“Probably not,” you say, but retreat nonetheless. Your equipment is in your travel bag. You left it behind when you went to the bar because you were not in the mood for a hook-up, which should have been the first sign you were hopeless. You were already in waters far too deep when you tried reaching for that shitty life preserver. Learning to swim is not easy but infinitely more rewarding.

You change into packing boxers and tuck your toy into it, buttoning up the pocket. You grab some lube and a towel, then walk back to his bedroom, certain that he has somehow caused trouble in the five minutes it took to do all that.

He’d naked. Of course he is. Sitting where you left him, perched on the edge of the bed, but his clothes are folded in a pile on the dresser and he has nothing but a bedsheet pulled over his lap. He is not wearing his usual cheeky expression, though, and you are about to ask if something is wrong. Then he says, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Oh,” you say. “That’s fine.” It is the unthinking response, automatic as the admission is not too surprising. You live in a world where strap-ons and gender games are the norm, so sometimes you forget that most people consider it inherently kinky or an anomaly. A lot of men are new to it. Seungmin didn’t even know what was packing was when you first mentioned it.

But then he says, “Any of it.”

And you say, “Huh?”

“I’ve never done,” he says slowly, “any of this.”

“Any.”

It takes a long minute to compute. You think about his clumsy touches and experiments followed by his quick learning. Unabashed and unjudgmental regardless of what he encountered. Testing and figuring himself out just as much as you.

“Oh,” you say. Then, “Oh. Fucking shit. I’m such an asshole.”

Because that was his first time doing anything with someone, and you just walked out the door without a word the next morning.

He does not look upset about it anymore. In fact, he laughs, though he tries to hold it back. It turns into a snort he barely catches, amused eyes gazing up at you.

“Yeah,” he says. “You are. We already knew that.”

“I really, I just—”

“Can you shut up and come take my virginity before I get beatified for involuntary chastity?”

“But you’re so fucking hot,” you blurt.

It is obviously not the retort he anticipated, because he blushes profusely, which is not the response you expected.

He clears his throat and looks away, rolling his eyes to compensate for the obvious vulnerability.

“Thanks,” he says. “Stating the obvious. I’m also picky. And apparently I scare people.”

“Scare them?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow. “Who’d be scared of you?”

“Evidently not you,” he says. His tone is snarky but he looks at you, up and down, and the look is a thoughtful one. “Not ever.”

Agh. There’s that heart again, pounding away. Who knew that thing could race so fast.

“Well,” you say, finally putting the bottle and towel on the bedside table. “That is their loss. Not everyone is built for chasing luxury, I guess.”

“Luxury,” he says with another snort, grinning despite himself. “I’m high-end,” he says it like a fact, not a question.

“Naturally,” you say, approaching where he is sitting.

“I’m going to be honest,” he says, eyes wandering your body before landing on your face. “I thought you were going to be weird and egotistical about being with a virgin.”

It suddenly pings in your head that you are his first, that there is a certain responsibility that comes with that. That the wrong person could make this terrible for him. That you want to make sure it feels better than anything he could dream. These thoughts are completely and truly unselfish.

And there is one admittedly egotistical and selfish thought, of making him irrevocably yours with one really good fuck.

He glares when he sees the look on your face, his lips pursed, though a breath of a laugh escapes nonetheless.

“Wow!” he says. “You’re a pig, go away.”

“No, no, I’m not, I swear!” you say, laughing.

He laughs too but shakes his head, pushing you away when you reach for him. “No way,” he says. “You and your ego. Gross.”

“Please, I promise,” you say, getting on your knees and lacing your hands together like a praying supplicant. “I’ll be so normal,” you say. “I have no ego at all.”

“You’re the worst,” he says dryly.

“Yeah, but…” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. “You kinda like me anyway, right?”

It is a more vulnerable question than you thought it would be. It prompts him to look at you, really look at you, before he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Unfortunately,” he says.

You giggle and he swats your head.

“Are we just going to sit here all night and look at each other?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“No, no, of course not,” you say. You get back on your feet, standing bedside so you are looming over him.

“What are we doing then?” he asks.

“Well, you know what we’re doing,” you say, laughing when he rolls his eyes and huffs again.

You reach out, cupping his face in both your hands and guiding him to look up at you. Your heartbeat hammers away not only in your chest but everywhere else, a rapid current of heat that thunders most prominently between your legs as shiny dark eyes gaze up at you amorously from such a suggestive vantage.

“First, before anything else, this.” You speak in a lower voice, watching his spine straighten as the sound. You run your thumb across his bottom lip like you did earlier, except this time it is a bruised pink from kissing. It really makes you feel like that extra weight in your boxers is coming to life, connected to you intimately, ready and wanting as you are. Especially when you tug on that bottom lip, when he leans towards your hand like he needs it, needs you.

“Now,” you say. “Now I want you on your knees.”

There is a sharp intake of breath before he nods, subtly, then shifts. The sheets falls away from his lap, revealing he is already half-hard again. There are goosebumps along his skin, from his nudity and the chill or just anticipation.

Last time, he needed almost no direction. He followed his own instinct, logically deducing that the part of the toy you could feel was the part at the base, closest to your body. He uses his usual deductions when unbuttoning your boxers, taking a second to first press the base of the toy against you before leaning back and opening his mouth.

It is not easy to come like this, but you are so worked up that it might happen. It does not matter if you do. It is not always about chasing the perfect orgasm. This time, it is touch and sensuality. He lets you teach him, rather than stampeding like last time. You wonder if his heart is pounding given how red the tips of his ears are, blood rushing everywhere in a hurry. You hold his face and slide back and forth, taking your time getting wet, both yourself and the toy, pushing him a little further each time.

When his mouth is full and he blinks slowly, contently, every bratty remark and combative tone far from his mind, you smile and tug his hair. He moans and you push a little more, gliding back and forward again.

“You’re a fast learner,” you say. “Bet you could get used to this.”

It is a testing tease, to great success if the returned moan is anything to go by. He squeezes his eyes shut and starts touching himself, finally moving his head instead of letting you guide him. Before he gets too lost in the rhythm, you ease him back. You smile and rub your thumb across his shiny lips as he blinks up at you.

“Come here,” you say, and kiss him.

He falls into the kiss, arms wrapping around you as you lay down with him. He is eager in the searching heat of the kiss, long and deep and hungry. You get on your back and pull him on top of you, give him one more drawn-out kiss with a filthy wet lick into his mouth, then smile.

“Turn around,” you say. “Keep going.”

It takes him a second to work out what you mean, but he really is a fast learner. Soon he is laying on top of you, face where it was before, mouth wrapping around the end of your dick and his fingers searching beneath it to stroke you directly.

You snatch the lube off the table and wet your fingers then him, taking it slow and easy, using your mouth and spit then more lube until everything is slippery and he gives in so easily into you. He is breathing hard down between your legs, resting his cheek on your thigh and no longer using his mouth on you. His eyes are closed and his hips are rocking, focussed on the sensations that you are certain are overwhelming him.

You move him around, at which point he comes to attention, looking back at you. This is the quietest he has ever been, all the action in his heart as you expected; you can feel it racing when you touch his chest.

You lay him down in front of you, sidling up behind him. You lay a hand on the wildly fluttering race of his pulse, throat cupped in your palm. You turn his face to kiss him, your wet hand stroking your wet dick. You probably should have thrown that towel down before getting started. The sheets are a mess already.

“Ugh, hurry up,” he says, reaching back to smack your thigh. “You’re the worst. I hate you.”

You laugh. Oh well. No time to worry about bedsheets. You give his throat a gentle squeeze and smile at the noise he makes, strained and needy, his hips rearing back into you.

“What?” you ask, sliding the toy down his backside. “You want something?”

“I will bury you in the mountain pass,” he says. “They’ll think it was a skiing accident. And that you got mauled by a bear. And eaten by wolves. And—”

To be honest, having him distracted and rambling is for the best. It means he is more relaxed, not so focussed when you finally start pushing in. Of course, he feels it pretty fast, and instinctively rebels. You stop clutching his throat and hold an arm across his chest instead, holding him protectively and kissing that sweet spot behind his ear. His groaning turns into a whine.

“Okay?” you ask.

“Gonna kill you,” he says.

“That a yes?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” You hook a hand under his leg and pull it up, giving yourself leverage, then fuck into him completely. His whine turns to a sharp yelp, hand scrabbling against the arm on his chest. You let him catch his breath and adjust. “Still okay?”

“It’s weird,” he says.

“Bad weird?”

“No,” he says. “It’s… it’s good. It’s just…” You move a little and his whole body clenches then loosens. He makes a strangled noise but softens in your arms, though his nails have dug a pretty picture into your skin. You are surprised he hasn’t drawn blood. “Ugh,” he says. “It’s so wet. I feel like a river rafting ride.”

“Not… what most people usually say… but okay…”

“I’m… not… most people.”

“No,” you say, kissing that spot again and finally moving your hips. “You’re not.”

You are not sure if his little sound of submission is in response to your actions or your words, but with it he seems to all at once open to you. You find a rhythm, holding his hand when his fingers search for yours on his chest. He ends up biting your arm, which you should have seen coming, but it’s fine because you leave a visible bite mark on his neck in return.

At that he gets into it, meeting the pace you set, altering it to what he wants. It is a good thing the house is empty because you are not quiet at all. If your fooling around was enough to send an aggravated Minho storming after you, then this probably would have led to him burning the cabin down.

The thought makes you snicker, which makes Seungmin ask what is so funny, so you tell him then he laughs too.

“Ugh, stop making me laugh,” he says.

“You can laugh while making love,” you say, kissing his neck. “It’s okay.”

That does not make him laugh but it does make him sigh. “Making love, huh,” he says dryly. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“It didn’t,” you say, finding another sweet spot that has his whole body rearing into yours. “I guess I’m a fast learner too.”

“Ew, you’re so annoying,” he says, but squeezes your fingers in his hand.

“I think you’re not getting fucked right if you’re still this bratty,” you say playfully, prompting him to roll his eyes.

“What are you gonna do about it? Make love at me? Sap.”

You laugh, kiss his neck, then move away to roll him onto his back. He wriggles a bit, surprised with the change and sudden emptiness. His legs part easily when you move between them, but you still snap, “Spread. Good.” Because it makes him swallow hard, his dark eyes sparkling and his mouth bruised, hair mussed and body flushed. He is already a fucked out sight, but he wants more, and you give it.

You snap your hips together and fuck into him. This time you do hold his throat, gently, not repressing air but showing control. He holds your forearm with both hands, his face scrunching up, eyes closed as he focusses in that intense way of his. He breathes hard, makes sweet sounds, and not a single antagonistic or bratty word leaves his pretty mouth.

“I think I’m finally winning,” you tease, to which he just makes a hiccupping sound of pleasure. “Yeah, that’s right.”

You hold his ridiculously pretty dick and give it the expert treatment it deserves. The combination of sensations has him throwing his head back, clawing your arm as you work him in your head. You cannot feel the end of the toy, but there is a magic in this kind of fucking, and when he comes and he clutches your arm and he screams your name, when the muscles in his abdomen clench and you know he is feeling sensation in every part of his body, you can feel him wrapped around you, wholly and completely, like you could feel him when he wasn’t even touching you at all.

He writhes almost desperately as you keep touching him until he can’t take it anymore, then you ease him down and pull back.

“Good?” you ask, sitting back, looking down at him, blissfully fucked out and dishevelled.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “I won. Again.”

“Gonna need to supply me with that rubric one of these days,” you say.

“Meh-meh-meh,” is the half-hearted retort, delving to a sleepy sigh.

“Gotta take care of yourself before you go to sleep,” you say, though you have a feeling it’s a losing battle, his eyelids already heavy.

“That’s what you’re for,” he grumbles.

That damn heart really does have a mind of its own. It has clearly decided to make its presence known whenever it damn well pleases.

You run your fingers through his messy hair, smiling when he blinks up at you.

You tidy him up then scoop him into your arms to carry him to your bed, because that one is not a filthy sex nest. He wakes a little on the journey. And when you lay down and pull a sheet up, he rolls towards you and throws an arm and a leg around you, pinning you to the bed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say. “I promise.”

“Good,” he says. “You’re too stupid to be out there on your own.”

You laugh in spite of yourself, shaking your head, but you put an arm around him and nod.

“You’re right,” you say.

“Of course I am.” He snuggles in close and sighs. “Now go the fuck to sleep. Your dick is in the sink so you have no excuse. Good night.”

“Good night,” you say with a laugh.

I think I won too, you almost say, but decide let him believe he is the only winner for now, because he is already falling asleep with his head on your shoulder.

You can tell him in the morning.

#kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin smut #skz smut #skz x reader

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nxuvillette · 5 months

Note

thoughts on best friends brother!hanma? how he’d act with the sneaking around to avoid your best friend? 🥺

❥- note : hi nonnie <3 this made me go kinda crazy because i love something secretive with shuji :> !! i hope you enjoyed this tehe.

content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, reader is best friends with hanma’s sister, mentions of hookups, brief car sex mention, teasing, secret relationship, use of pet names (babydoll , doll), praising, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, multiple orgasms.

hanma never imagined that he’d end up messing around with his little sister’s best friend.

you and hanma had met after your best friend took you over to her house. she mentioned him many times before, but you weren’t expecting him to be so fucking hot. hanma was six foot four with these delicious tattoos on his hands that made him seem intimidating from the naked eye. he was charming, too. he had this sultry tone in his voice that would make it difficult for you to even look at him and his honey eyes.

there would be lingering glances between you two, and there were even a few instances where you would both end up alone with each other. there was always something in the air whenever you two were in the same room. thankfully, your best friend never noticed. you would hate for her to get the wrong idea about your friendship.

hanma eventually caved into his desires for you and messaged you one night. despite it being almost two in the morning, you decided to go and see him. you both ended up hooking up in the backseat of his car. it was some of the best sex you had ever had. it was like hanma knew your body already. he touched, fucked, licked, all of the right places that made you melt in his fingers. it was clear that this wouldn’t be a one time thing, judging by hanma’s behavior towards you after your first initial hookup.

it was difficult to hide your secret from your best friend. that was her older brother. it would mean lots of betrayal if she were to discover what was going on.

but, you just couldn’t stop.

whenever she was working, hanma would have you come over and you would both fuck for hours. he would put you in all kinds of positions and leave your cunt stuffed with his cum. it was just the way he liked it.

sometimes, he’d play a dangerous game and touch you whenever she was in the room. he’d brush his fingertips along your waist or get a little too close to your ass whenever he was walking by. he’d just smirk and give you that look that said it all. he loved to see how much he could work you up until you were a needy slut for him in bed the next time you met up.

it was risky, but that’s why he loved it so damn much.

it was later in the night. your best friend had gone to some frat party that was about an hour away, and you were lying in hanma’s sheets with your legs on his shoulders. his cock was drilling into your pussy, creating sloppy noises with every rut of his hips. your cunt was always crying for him. he loved to see how wet it could get.

“like that, babydoll? fuck.. look at you.. taking me so fucking well..” his thumb tugged at your bottom lip, revealing some of your teeth.

you whined when hanma’s cock reached your g-spot. the tip was relentlessly pressing against that button, making your vision become hazy. you were so lost in bliss. any stress you had could be taken away by him. “yes, h-hanma! i love it so much!” you cried, your eyes becoming glassy from the tears that formed at your lash line.

he changed his angle so he was now reaching further into your hole. hanma caught your lips and began to kiss you slowly. god, his kisses were just too fucking good. your fingernails then threaded through the strands of his dual colored hair, bringing him closer to you. you were already on your third orgasm, and your body was reaching its limit. hanma didn’t show any signs of halting, though. he needed you so badly. he hated that he couldn’t see you as often as he wanted.

the kiss was broken between you as hanma pressed his forehead against yours. his golden eyes that were like the sun stared into your own. “can’t get enough of you, doll.” he mumbled against your puffy lips. “i’m gonna fuck you till you’re pregnant.. with my baby..”

the thought alone made your pussy squeeze his cock, which hanma gladly took note of. you were a bit surprised to hear such a proposal, but nonetheless did it turn you on. “yes.. please!” you put your arms around his neck, leaving sloppy kisses on his lips.

he smirked, then began fucking you at a brutal pace. his balls smacked against your clit from how quick his thrusts were. hanma could only think about fucking his cum into you. he wouldn’t care if his sister was pissed. he wanted you.

sin wrapped around your throat. hanma clenched his teeth as he finally released into you. thick ropes of cum filled your womb. he practically emptied his balls inside of you, and he fucking loved it. he loved how great it felt. no other guy would ever dare to do such a thing to you, so he felt proud of himself for doing so. you deserved it all from him.

he leaned forward to kiss you passionately. you felt so full. there was a mess, but neither of you cared at all. “what do you say.. round four?” he chuckled.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work !#✧˖*°࿐ new message: nonnie !#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers smut #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji x you #hanma shuji smut #hanma x reader #hanma x you #hanma smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

the girl next door 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Even if the work is a lot and at times tedious, you’re grateful for the excuse to stay inside. As you hole yourself inside the house and tidy the messes, big and small, you can hear the conversations out the walls, wafting in through open windows. It’s as content as your mother’s been in the last few years. Steve is nice enough and he doesn’t have that same snooty lean as the other suburbanites.

As you mop, you think of how he mentioned the city. You wonder what it was like. Before your grandma passed, you and your mom lived in a walk-up in a small town. Everyone there knew your names too and reviled it just the same. You never mean any harm but wherever you go, you seem to inspire spite.

Dishes, floor, walls, dusting, errant cobwebs, clutter...

You work until your mother comes in, swinging the door violently as she drags herself inside. You go to help her and she swats you away. You retreat and she finds her way to the recliner. You shut the door and lock it.

“Wonderful man,” she groans as she lays her head back and tilts the chair, extending the footrest, “don’t make ‘em like that anymore. He’s the sort I shoulda picked.” She closes her eyes and gives a wry hum, “’specially over your dad.”

You don’t say a word. She only mentions your father to remind you of that half of you she hates. You gather up the clothes on the couch into a basket. The laundry will have you up late. Your own fault; you should’ve done this all a lot sooner.

“Should I start dinner?” You ask.

“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for burnt chicken,” she scoffs meanly.

“I could do mac and cheese,” you offer.

“I’m teasing ya. Jeez, you got no sense of humour,” she sighs dreamily, “not like Steve. Such a charming man.”

You pass through the kitchen and descend to the basement to fill the washer. You add soap and twist the knob. You leave the basket on the lid and head back up. You peruse the fridge as you ponder what to make. Mac and cheese would be easiest.

You get started and the TV blips on in the next room. The audio helps chase away the tension. You leave the water to boil and lean on the archway that looks into the front room.

“Um, mom, what should I make tomorrow? For uh, dinner? With... him?”

“Well, don’t sound so damn excited,” she sits up, “whatsa matter with you? The nice man wants to come see us, unlike the rest of these snobs. My own sister won’t come through that door.” She snorts and shakes her head, “you can go to the store tomorrow and grab something nice. I don’t want ya serving that man starchy potatoes. Down at the fancy store, they got those premade meals.”

“Those are expensive,” you remark.

“And? You get your stipend, you don’t gotta be leeching off of me,” she snips.

“Um, yes, I know, I wasn’t--”

“God, look at that,” her eyes flick up to the ceiling, goddamn dusty, it’s a wonder I can breathe.”

You look up and see what she means. There’s a layer of dusty on the ceiling fan as it turns lazily on its lowest setting.

“I’ll get it--”

“Better. You’re not gonna embarrass me tomorrow. I’d be better off if you stay in your room,” she tuts.

“If you want--”

“No, you come out and say hi. Don’t be rude. You know I did try to teach you manners. You just never spoke enough to use them.”

You frown and look down meekly. She’s not wrong. You turn and go to grab the duster. You don’t think tomorrow is going to be any different than any other.

🏠

The next morning, go out to the grocery store to grab the meal for that evening. As you return, you linger at the end of the street. You can see Steve on his lawn. You wait for him to go inside before you drive up and pull into the driveway.

You carry the bags inside with your sights set on the house and nothing else. Inside, you put down your haul on the counter and put each item away, one at a time. Your mother is in the bathroom, chirping out a song out of key.

“God dammit,” she snarls, “I can’t find my red lipstick,” she rattles through her bin of makeup. She doesn’t wear it very often. “Get in here.”

Before you can pass the open door, her demand pulls you back. You enter as she sits on a stool in front of the mirror. She shoves the bin away and grumbles.

“Here,” she holds out a pair of tweezers with a tremble, “damn brows are unruly.”

You nod and step closer. You press a hand gently to her forehead and pluck out the stray hairs, shaping them as best you can.

“Don’t forget my lip,” she huffs hot breath onto you. “Don’t think he’ll like the tickle.”

She chuckles to herself. You don’t get it. You finish and step back, holding up the hand mirror for her. She shrugs.

“Get me some of that moisturizer,” she points unsteadily to the shelf above the toilet. You do as she says. “Mm,” she grumbles as you face her again, “not wearing that, are ya?”

You look down. The loose tee shirt with butterflies on it and the faded jeans are a bit plain. You tug on the hem and raise your head.

“You got a dress somewhere in there,” she shakes her head as she flips the cap up on the bottle after three tries. “I bought you some nice ones and you never put them one.”

“Uh, okay, yeah, I’ll check,” you promise. “Need help?”

You reach for the bottle and she keeps it out of your reach. You back up and leave her. You can sense her agitation growing.

You cross the hall to your bedroom and go to the closet. You slide the door open and sift through the contents hung from the bar. There’s a dress. A pink polka dot dress she got you in high school. Nothing special; a bargain bin cotton a-line with thin straps.

You take it out and examine it. That was the only dance you went to. You got stood up by the boy who asked you. You realise now it was only ever a joke at your expense.

You undress by your bed and put the dress on. It’s tight. Maybe it’s shrunk or maybe you’ve gotten bigger. You didn’t think your chest had grown that much since high school but it’s bulging out and your thighs feel a bit too exposed. You go into the hall and back into the bathroom. You shift the door as you mother works as spreading the eye cream above her cheekbones.

You look at your reflection and cringe. You turn to your mom.

“It’s too small,” you say to her.

She peers over with a scowl. She looks you up and down and drops the tube of cream. She shakes her head.

“Put a sweater over it,” she sneers, “it’s fine.”

“Right, uh, okay,” you agree and swallow. Even with a sweater, you don’t know. The skirt won’t be any longer.

“Would ya stop crowding me?” She shoos you tersely.

You push the door back against the wall and slip out of the bathroom. You head back to your bedroom and pick out a grey cardigan. It has no buttons but it’s at least as long as the dress. It’s better than feeling so exposed.

You hardly think it will matter. You already feel like a third wheel. Steve didn’t exactly spend hours talking to you and your mother as much as said you are collateral. They’re both just putting up with you because you’re there.

You run your hands over your face and hair. Can't dress that up. You pout at your reflection. You wish you could iust hide on your room and draw.

You look over at your sketchbook and cross the room. You sit on your bed and slide the folding table close. You open the pages and pick up the pencil. You straighten the page you tore from the old home and garden magazine and copy the shape of the amaryllis petals.

You can forget a little longer until real life wakes you up.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #drabble #series #au #silverfox au #the girl next door #mcu #marvel

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slut4sugu · 8 months

Text

PRETTY BABY ! — SUNA RINTARO X FEM!BLACK READER

[ʚ 🍓ɞ] summary: you attempted to treat your boyfriend by making him cum his brains out, little did you know that bet would soon fall through [ʚ 🍓ɞ] including + warnings: blowjobs, overstimulation, sub!suna x Dom!reader to soft!Dom suna x sub!reader, slight ass slapping, degradation and praise, use of the nicknames: doll, pretty girl, pretty, baby, whore, suna being whipped for reader, mentions of dumbifaction and squirting, mentions of hickeys [ʚ 🍓ɞ] genre: suggestion to smut

Kinktober Masterlist . Trust-Issues : Drake

YOU LOOKED UP AT YOUR BOYFRIEND WITH PLEADING EYES; “Cmon rinny! You literally never let me even try to top you.” You whined, which made suna laugh in response. “Yeah because I know that your just gonna beg me to fuck you once you get tired.” The raven said confidently, his gaze never leaving from his phone. Scoffing you challenge him. “Okay fine, if you really think that I’m that easy then let’s bet on it.” Suna’s eyes finally meet yours, now curious about what bet your trying to make. Knowing full well he intends for you to loose it. Leaning up on your knees you took the phone out of his hand, throwing it into a pile of clothes on your floor. Then crawling from your spot on the bed over to suna before sitting in his lap, crossing your arms behind his neck. “Now here’s the deal, since you think you a sex god or sum shit-“ “Never said that.” “Shut up rin.” You hated now his handsome smirk made your heart race, even after seeing it a hundred times. “-If I top you tonight and I make you cum from doing all the work-?” You lean in close to his ear, purposely grinding a little when you do so, “I get to do whatever I want to you for the rest of the night.” You stated, your pretty voice smooth yet firm. The smell of your strawberry shampoo body wash & lotion flooding nose as you came close, sunas senses starting to give into your natural charm. A groan left his lips as he felt you grind on his bulge through his sweats. “What’s in it for me pretty? Hm?” The feeling of his cold hands, going up under your baggy tee and holding your waist sending shivers down your spine. “Whatever you want. I’m not loosing this rin.” You say confidently as you sat straight up now. Your eyes studying your boyfriends features, as were his. “Alright fine then doll. But don’t whine when i win.” His green eyes flickered from your plump lips to your chocolate eyes, you smirked, “Oh baby, I won’t be whining for shit. You’ll be begging me to stop.”

♡ ♡ ♡

That’s how you ended up in between your boyfriends legs, teasingly licking fat stripes up the underside of his dick. Purposely slowing down when you would get to that one sensitive spot on his shaft, causing a string of curses to leave sunas lips. “Fuuckk doll.” His head thrown back all pretty on your pillows, the sight of this alone making your pussy clench around nothing. “You’re so pretty rinny.” You tease, letting out a giggle when you see the tip of his ears turn pink. “S-shut up.” A smile tugging at your lips as you kissed the pretty pink tip of your boyfriends cock, giggling once more when you saw his thighs shake from your peripheral vision. “Stop messing around and just- shit!” He damn near whimpered when he felt your mouth welcome his dick inside, you wasted no time as you took him inside inch by inch disappearing in your throat. You gagged a little once you reached the base, but you were determined to deepthroat him. The sound of his groans and pleas were too sweet to miss. “You feel so good doll, fuckkk.” His eyes were squeezed shut as he felt you start bobbing up and down, you had only deepthroated him once before this a couple of months ago and it’s safe to say he missed being in your throat. You hummed around the base of his cock, the feeling of his hand coming down and grabbing a fistful of your braids pushing you down slightly made you moan, his other grabbing the sheets tightly causing his knuckles to turn white.

Finally opening his eyes, he saw you looking up at him with your pretty doe eyes. Hearts forming in them just for him, as they bored into his. “God you’re so fuckin cute like this, sucking me so-” A pornographic moan erupted from suna’s throat as you flattened your tongue and quickened your pace. Shooting him a look that said, “shut up or I’ll make you.’ Despite your wetness soaking your panties, though it was his fault. His precum tasted almost sweet yet salty on your tongue, and the occasional thrust into your mouth had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Sounds of your drooling on his dick and moans/groans filled the room, your core grew unbelievably needy while you sucked his dick. You itched for the feeling of being stuffed full by his shaft as you sucked, further growing more horny by the second. His dick twitched into your mouth as he grew louder, “Baby shiiit, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t fuck-!” Words fell deaf on his tongue as the coil in his stomach began to unravel faster by the second. Finally unraveling when he saw your pretty eyes practically beg for him to cum. whimpering slightly as his seed flooded your mouth. Drinking up all of it you hummed with content, while suna was catching his breath.

Your mouth left his tip with a pop sound, licking your lips you smiled at the mess that laid there before you. Grinning as you saw his flushed face, “Aw baby, are you tired?” You teased, your saccharine voice, your hips, your thighs, your pretty acrylics (with his initials on them), your f/c faux locs driving the brunette insane. You were a perfect angel, a sexy, cute, beautiful angel that just made him cum in your mouth. So when he felt your soft hand cup his cheek and press a sweet kiss to his lips, who was he to say no? He Kissed you back before pulling away and saying, “Hell no, give me all you got pretty girl.”

As the night progressed you saw a different side of your boyfriend, a needy yet sweet side. He would yearn for more kisses from you and your touch, almost whining when you would rather leave hickeys on him rather than have his tongue down your throat. The male beneath you grunts when your teased the head of his cock with your entrance, lubing it with his pre cum and your slick that has collected from making out with suna. Your boyfriend’s big palms find their way to your thighs to finally have you hover over his dick, making the blockers pretty pink tip slowly push against your hole and it’s way inside. His neediness clearly visible in his eyes as he tries to push you down on his throbbing cock. “Rin what are you- ah.” Even after being split open on your boyfriends dick numerous times the pleasure never ceases to feel like the first time all over again. The familiar delicious stretch you would feel as his veiny shaft filled you up so nicely. You gripped his shoulders for support as your eyes rolled back, your mouth agape as you finally gave in to your desires. Sucking in a breath rintaro felt your tight velvety walls suck him in impossibly deeper, “Fuck the bet you feel too fucking good right now.” You were going to object but the feeling you’ve been missing all night made you forget about the stupid bet, you could top him another day.

The raven softly starts to buck his hips up into yours without warning, causing soft moans to slip past your lips. “Rinny wait- your too *slap* fuck!” You grew tighter as you suddenly felt the pleasure and pain of suna slapping your rear. One hand now gripping your waist the other squeezing the fat of your ass. “I said fuck *thrust* the challenge didn’t I? So stop whining like baby when you know damn well you’re a whore for getting fucked dumb.” Sunas voice was stern yet so damn hot you gripped his cock tighter just from feeling his hot breath on the shell of your ear as he degraded you. Letting out a string of curses he chuckled, “And the fact that you actually thought that you were gonna ‘have me begging for you to stop.’ is almost fucking cute.” You hid your face in his neck, a slight pout on your pink glossed lips. “Shut up.” You mumbled, “just wanted to see if I could make you feel as good as you make me.”

“That’s what this was all about? Damn your dumb.” You rolled your eyes and sucked your teeth before nibbling purposefully on the sensitive vein on his neck, erecting a soft moan from your boyfriend. “What are you gonna do about it then? Fuck me dumb?” You asked mockingly in a sweet voice, you always were such a brat but you never seemed to learn your lesson. So when rintaro's eyes shined with that look of lust and hidden intent you already knew what time it was, “Yeah pretty much .”

♡ ♡ ♡

That’s how you ended up face first into the mattress, your ass in the air as you got fucked into the pillows. Mewling, as your body writhed with pleasure. You always said that, ‘s too big rinny!’ or ‘slow down!’ and yet, he knew you could take it. You've done it many times before. That’s why he reached further into the space you had created to bunch up the back of your shirt and used it as leverage as though he were pulling your hair to pummel into you faster and deeper. Your ass rhythmically pounded on his pelvis, sending a lewd ringing through your own ears as it echoed off the bedroom walls. Something about this lewd position you were in mixed with the feeling of Suna’s cock hitting those sweet spots inside of you, egging you on more than usual. Your high getting close and he could feel it.

“G’na cum pretty?” He grunted as his other hands squeezed your hip, his blunt nails digging into your flesh. His moans were heavenly, a sound you always loved to hear, as your walls fluttered around him. His pace grew relentless, barely giving you time to breathe or even think as he forced your hips to fuck back onto him, drawing a helpless gasp or delighted moan from your pretty lips with each thrust. You began to shake in his hold, your breath coming out in hot pants as your end grew near. Your voice reaching a higher pitch, your pink nails digging into the bed, your brown skin marked up with hickeys and love bites.. you looked like a work of art. “Please rinny hah please, wanna fuck cum..!” You could barely get the words out as he fucked you within an inch of your life.

“Y’gunna cream around my cock? Make a pretty mess on f’me baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Came your loud, unapologetic sounds of unfiltered, pornographic babbles of sheer bliss.

Neither of you could hold back anymore. Suna spilled rope after rope of his hot, sticky seed into your abused cunt while your pretty folds creamed around his shaft. Blissed panting, filled the air around you. Only couple seconds pass before your boyfriend continues his unwavering attack on your pussy, your once loosened grip on the sheets now tightened again as you let out confused babbles and whines into the pillows. “Don’t hah, act so surprised I said i was going to fuck you dumb. And I meant it.” Following this statement suna sent harsh slaps to your ass, causing yelps and moans to fill the walls of the bedroom. His eyes now low as he gripped the sides of your hips and was almost entranced by how your ass was starting to grow red from his hits. “All of this thrust. for me baby? Hm?” The deep thrusts inside your sensitive cunt drove you insane, your brain started to turn to mush as the sound of skin slapping further started to drive you to your next climax. All you could do was nod as you felt the coil in your stomach begin to unravel again, if your face wasn’t stuffed in the pillows at the time you would’ve came from the sight of Sunas abs glistening with sweat and loose strands of hair stuck to his forehead, and that goddamn sexy smirk that was plastered on his handsome face.

With a swift motion, the blocker thrusted his hips forward, driving his bulging cock deeper into you, aching against every inch of your inner walls. the sensation was both pleasurable and torturous, that left you convulsing and twitching with pleasure as you came for the second time around his shaft. Coating his cock with more of your essence mixed with his cum. “God your so pretty like this-” Leaning down he kissed your shoulder blade, before leaving another hickey. This time behind your ear, a dark purple spot forming in seconds. “-all messy and tired. But I bet you still want more right?” You hummed softly in response despite your body being unable to move, “Heh, good because I wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon, now be a good pretty little doll and squirt on my dick this time kay?”

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themotherofhorses · 1 year

Note

Hi author first of wanted to say I love your work !

I'm not sure if you take requests so if you don't feel free to delete this 💛

Modern spy Aemond x naive reader [ Aemond meets her when he's on a mission and becomes obsessed with her how can someone be so sweet and innocent !? He just has to have her also baby trapping and smut if you're comfortable writing it ]

follow me now, and you will not regret (leaving the life you led before we met)

pairing: modern spy!aemond targaryen x naive!reader

warnings: explicit language. stalking. very much nsfw smut. once again, aemond is an obsessive and pussywhipped little bitch with zero thoughts within his pretty knocker. manipulation. innocence kink. breeding kink/baby trapping at the end.

notes: hi, yes, this is me coursing through uncharted and absolutely fucking rough waters in some attempt to spice up my usual smut writing style

(aka me practicing for the next chapter of my modern series)

masterlist

A career life built solely around espionage (or a sort of black shadow warfare mixed with cold combat) came dirty, bloody, and uncertain.

Or, at least, that was what Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen would tell himself on the daily, in some attempt at justifying the ends to the means. Really, this entire situation could have been a lot worse, he thought- after all, the lives of countless innocent civilians could have been caught within his crosshairs. He hated when that happened; it was always so messy, and came with heavy and boring paperwork.

However, that was not the case this time, thankfully.

It was only one innocent civilian in his hands, and she was still safe and sound.

Aemond had never meant to stick around the city for so long, having other missions queued up after this one, but fuck…you were perfect. Godsent, the prettiest and most delicious slice of heaven above, and he did not consider himself a godly man, nowhere near in the slightest. The gods loathed his type, he knew, and never hesitated in casting them all down to the pits of hell.

But you…

He had met you during the mission, while stuck undercover at some random little café on the corner street. The boss sent him to stake out some old-money and big-named crime mobster that was allegedly dealing weapons and various drugs under the noses of local law enforcement, a suspect on their “Most Wanted” board. And you- well, you were tucked away in a small booth, hunched over two thick college textbooks while multiple paper assignments laid strewed across the table top, so unaware of his presence sitting tables away on the other side of the room.

Gods, you were absolutely gorgeous, he thought. So fucking pretty, with those eyelashes and charm bracelet and focused look on your face. It made him forget all about his original mission. Fuck that, he has a new one now. And there was the cutest pout on your pink and glossy lips that made his cock harden, despite not having the faintest clue on what your name could be.

(That itself was no concern of his, he could find it out later in the evening. And he eventually did.)

You were there at the café the following day, and the day after that. Always with your head in those damn school books, his pretty and dutiful schoolgirl. The sight made him chuckle, and smile, and fill with the strongest urge to ruin you completely with his mouth, and fingers, and cock. On the fifth day, he finally decided to step up to your table, interrupting your usual study schedule with a shy smile and your favorite drink in hand, as well as a chocolate chip cookie.

“I- uh, I hope you don’t mind, miss,” he said, feigning bashfulness, “but I’ve seen you around everyday for this past week and thought, maybe, you wouldn’t mind being friends? I’m new in town, actually…and- well, I don’t know a lot of people around here…” he added, watching your pretty eyes widen.

And, fuck, your lips were glossy again, and he stood there (like a complete idiot) wondering what flavor they could possibly taste like.

Cherries?

Strawberries? Blueberries?

Maybe mimosa or peppermint patties?

“Oh, well, of course! I don’t mind whatsoever,” you replied cheerfully, rousing butterflies in Aemond’s stomach. “I’d be happy to be your friend,” and you patted at the spot next to yours, slugging away your tote bag and books so that he could sit down, and you could introduce yourself.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Aemond became your friend, first. The easiest way to manipulate your unsuspecting victims? Through trust and friendships, per the teachings of his old childhood mentors back at the academy. Throughout the next month, he bought you hot chocolate and matcha tea lattes, joined you in quick lunch dates, insisted on driving you to your college classes, and went with you to the little bookstores scattered across the city. It was fun…and torturous- utter torment and near physical agony- because all he wanted to do was fuck your pretty pussy until you could no longer remember your name and your cunt was to the shape of his own cock.

He would sit beside you in the café booth, listening as you drone on and on about your favorite, most passionate subjects, all while trying to desperately hide the boner in his jeans and rid his mind of such dirty thoughts and fantasies. There was no use, though. Aemond was fucked, too addicted and obsessed.

He wanted you, now and forever.

But that was not the worst part. The worst part was that you had not the smallest clue of what you were doing to him. You were just his sweet companion, his dear friend, too innocent and naïve to both the world and the waking beast deep within him.

He often followed you back home, to that tiny apartment near the college. Aemond swore it was because he wanted to make sure you were safe and protected from any of his enemies, anyone daring to steal you away from him, but he knew it was more due to the chances of seeing you undress and shower and decide which nightie you would wear to bed. And, sometimes, he got treated to his sweet girl trying to touch herself. It was so cute, so endearing, to watch you slip a hand between your thighs only to pause because you had no idea of what to do, and how to fuck your own fingers inside your cunt until you came.

Poor, sweet girl of mine, Aemond shook his head, tutting. Alone and in need.

How could someone so pretty, such a fucking cock-tease, be so innocent and untouched, so stupid and unknowing to everything sexual?

It did not make any sense to him.

Maybe you were made for him, and only him, and this was the gods’ gentle way of telling him to change his ways before it was too late. Leave behind this career of his, wash away all the red staining his ledger and hang up his callsign, all so he can start a family with you. The family he needs, the one he deserves.

Yes, he thought, that makes more sense. You need him the same way he needs you.

And, really, who was he to ignore the gods above? Aemond himself was no godly man, it was not in the nature of a spy like him- but for you, perhaps the fates might allow it.

Two months later, after a dinner date, Aemond has you pressed against your apartment’s door, his mouth frantically devouring yours in a fervent and wet kiss. It has been so long, so torturous, weeks after weeks of constant late-night jerking off to your pretty pictures and those blue-laced panties he managed to slip from your bedroom that one afternoon and pretending that all he wants to be is your friend.

You are so beautiful, so stunning, especially within this very moment, chest heaving out heavy breaths while you peer up at him as if he is a god.

He grabs at your face, a rough grip on your chin. “Tell me you want it tonight,” he demands, his lips near your ear. You shiver and clutch at his arms, so close to melting into nothing but putty in his hands. “Want what, Aemond?” you ask innocently, batting your dark eyelashes up at him. Fucking cock-tease. He chuckles while trailing light kisses along your jawline and down your neckline, mouthing at your nape and clavicle. You mewl at the feeling. “Please- please, don’t stop…”

“Do my kisses feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you sigh out, tangling your fingers within his silver hair, “it feels amazing.”

He smirks. “It will feel a whole lot better in a little while, I promise you, sweet girl. But I need to ask…do you trust me?” You nod frantically, leaning up to kiss his lips. “Of course, Aemond. You are my dearest friend! I trust no one more than you.” Aemond just laughs at your words, yearning so badly to tell you that- by the end of the night- your cute ass will no longer be ‘just his friend’ but something much more, definitely.

But where is the fun in that?

“Good, good. Just relax and enjoy everything, okay?”

Aemond then pushes you back against the door, quickly slipping off the pretty floral top you wore and groaning at how your lacy bra cupped your breasts perfectly. Where have you been all my life? He thinks while snaking his hands around your back to unhook your brace and toss it somewhere over his shoulder, too busy salivating over your free and ample breasts and perky nipples.

“Fuck, look at you…so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles, kneading at your breasts. You stiffen, flushing under his heavy gaze before moving to cover yourself up, feeling a little self-conscious. Aemond shakes his head, gently tugging your hands back to your side. “No, don’t you dare cover yourself up, baby. Not in front of me.” His fingers pinch your nipple, cause your back to arch. “I’ll never understand why no one has ever devoured this pretty body. Gods, look at these tits. You’re so beautiful, baby, a fucking wet dream come true. Mmm, yeah, bet they’ll taste delicious,” and he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

You’re delicious here, and Aemond knows you will be even more down there. His poor cock, still tucked inside his pants, feels like it is weeping, too impatient and irritated and ready to ruin you. His hand slides down your belly to rest on your hipbones and thighs, fingers ghosting around your panties.

“Ohhh…” you gasp out, biting at your bottom lips when his hand slips in.

“Fuuckk,” he drawls out against your breast, thrusting a finger into your wet cunt. “Gods, you’re so fucking wet down here. Absolutely soaking, poor baby.” Aemond strokes your slit a few times before rubbing your clit with his thumb, hearing the way you whine and shake at his actions. “I can’t wait to be inside you, fucking you till all you can think about is me.” He continues his thrusting, watching how your pretty face scrunches in sheer pleasure.

“Are you enjoying this, baby?” he asks, humming. “Do you want me down there tongue-fucking you? Hmm? Oh, wait, my sincere apologies, pretty girl, you probably don’t even know what that means.”

You moan, loud and high-pitched, teeth still chewing on your bottom lip. At your silence, he spanks your ass, causing you to lurch up with a massive gasp. “Use your fucking words, sweetheart. I don’t care for silence, especially from you.”

The more you remain quiet, he thinks, the more spanks you’ll receive.

Eventually, you fling your head back, bumping it against the door. “Okay, yes! Please! Please, Aemond…!”

Grinning, Aemond stands up and draws his lips back to your ear, saying slowly, “Spread those legs then, baby girl, right now.” When you do so, he sinks down to his knees, both hands gently clutching your thighs, “Yeah, that is a good girl. My pretty, good girl of mine.” He moves his face to the front of your pussy, “Can you feel my breath against this pretty clit? Are you waiting for me to devour this pussy? Tongue-fuck you until you’re a stupid little mess? Tell me, baby.”

He then blows against your wetness, ignoring how you jolt hard at the feel. And I’m not taking no for an answer,” he adds before slinging a leg over his shoulder.

“Oh gods, yes, please,” you whine, jerking your hips up against his face. Aemond slaps your asscheeks hard- once, twice, three, four times. “Beg, my pretty baby. C’mon, I know you can do it. Beg for my tongue, beg like you mean it, you stupid and horny little slut.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words and you whimper. “Don’t be mean to me…” you whisper, trying to blink away tears.

Aemond raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you thought that, because this is your first time, I would be nice? My sweet summer girl, you teased me enough these past several months, and I’m done playing nice. Now, tell me you want this. Tell me you want me to claim this pussy as mine.”

Your wanton cries are everything he needs in this life, he soon realizes. If he can spend the rest of his days with his face buried deep between your thighs, he swears he’ll die a happy and satisfied man. The way his name glides off your tongue is incredibly, completely wonderful, and his mind fills with various fantasies and all the positions he will soon have you in, helpless and dripping like a whore in heat.

His pretty whore, forever and always.

“Fuck, baby, who am I to deny you such?” Aemond buries his face between your trembling thighs, inhaling your mouth-watering scent one final time before slipping his tongue inside your wet folds. “You taste so fucking good, baby- shit, you’re leaking all over my face,” he moans amid long licks, fucking you both with his tongue and fingers.

“Oh, gods! Oh- oh- oh…!” You shriek, both legs buckling as your hands clench into tight fists. All of your little moans and whimpers, those pathetic pleas and begs, they all send more blood rushing to his cock. You don’t recognize the early grave you’re digging at, too overtaken by the pleasure.

“So fucking tight against my fingers. How the hell will you take my cock, baby? Fuck, I’m going to destroy you.”

You moan again, in such a loud and lustful cry that causes his resolve to only weaken faster.

“Oh! Oh, Aemond, this feels so good! Please- please, don’t ever stop,” you wail, fat tears gushing down your cheeks. This pleasure, it is a feeling like nothing before, not even coming close to those few times you made some sad and futile attempt to touch yourself, too confused on how to deal with those strange tummy butterflies that seemingly hatched from their cocoons the day you meant Aemond.

How thankful you are that you met him.

Your body squirms every couple seconds, only to wince when he spanks your ass hard again.

“Shut the fuck up,” Aemond hisses without venom. He is too much in love with you for poison. “Do you wish for your neighbors to know that I’m fucking you right now? What would they think? The pretty and sweet girl that lives here, too innocent and naïve for this damn world, letting a man eat her out like a whore.”

You shake your head again, eyes puffy and red from all the tears. “N-no, Aemond…” you stutter out.

Aemond pauses his fingers, now curious to see how far he could go with this new type of torture. But it is not long, though, before you buckle against his hand, your bruised and swollen chest pushing up with stiffened nipples. And your body, it soon tightens as your flustered face screws up in that telltale sign that you are only seconds away from cumming. The scene is beautiful, very much so, and he feels pride that it is all from his own doing.

Yet he drags himself back up on his feet, removing his fingers from your cunt before you could cum. Perhaps it is a bit too cruel on his part, but Aemond could care less; he wants you to cum on his cock for your first time.

There will be many more times of this, he wants to reassure you. He doesn’t, though.

You’ll find out on your own time.

You gaze at him through bleak and narrowed eyes as he unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his ankles. “You poor, poor little thing,” he tuts, running a gentle hand through your damp hair, “-are you tired? You look tired, but from what? You didn’t even cum once!” He pats your cheek, “Don’t worry, my sweet girl, you’re about to. Can’t tell you how many times, but it’ll be a lot.”

And Aemond does not wait for your response, instead snatching your hand and pressing it against his boxers. “Can you feel that, baby? That is my cock. Can you feel how hard it is? You did this, you made me so fucking hard that it hurts.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head, “Now, that is not very nice, is it? No, no, no it is not. I thought you were a sweetheart…” He shoves your hand back, ignoring the small tears that gather in your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, wiping them away. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Aemond! Please don’t be mad at me…please, how can I help you? I’ll do anything,” you pout as you watch him slip down his boxers. Your teary eyes grow as wide as dinner plates, and your breath hitches. It is so sexy to him, eating away at the little self-control he is trying to maintain.

You’re a virgin, he reminds himself. Soft and easy, my baby deserves that.

“Shhh, baby,” Aemond rasps out, cupping your face within his hand. He kisses your nose, cheeks, and forehead before finding your lips. “I’m not mad, really, my sweet girl. I know you meant no harm, you’re too sweet and good for that,” and he holds your face against him while readying to fuck you with his cock. He can feel your short pants, the little breaths you take, and how you shudder whenever his clammy skin meets yours.

“Relax your body, baby girl, don’t tense up. It will hurt less…good girl, that’s my good girl.”

Nice and slow, he chants as he slowly sinks into your cunt, groaning at the tightness, slow and nice. You whimper, eyes rolling back as begins his thrusts, slow and easy. I’m a gentleman.

Mother made me promise to be a gentleman.

I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman.

But the look you are giving him, with your lips pink and puffy from the shit ton of kisses and bites, and the way your pussy clenches around his cock…it is causing him to forget all about how his mother indeed made him promise to be nothing short but a gentleman.

You’re too pretty for him not to devour, and…well, were you not made for him? The gods created you with the purpose of him eventually finding and caring for you, the way it should’ve always been- the way it will be for now on. His one good eye (the one those stupid bastards left alone back at the academy) watches as you shake and quiver and mewl out the sweetest and yummiest little moans.

The way you are right now, you’re just begging to be made into a new mother, and his mind goes insane at the sudden image of you heavy with his children, huffy and sore and always exhausted. It is delicious to think about. Aemond- truthfully- never really thought about kids, constantly busy with the espionage lifestyle and the back-to-back missions, but you…oh, he knows that, after tonight, you’ll have no choice but to remain by his side as the baby grows, needing him to protect and provide and shower you with love and affection.

He’ll be the best husband and father, and you his good girl- his precious slice of normality.

The way it should be, the way it will be.

It is half a year later that Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen finally connects back with his boss through a phone call.

Before that, he dropped off the grid, returning no calls and messages and signals, leaving everyone behind at the headquarters confused, concerned, and scratching their heads as to why their finest agent suddenly vanished without a trace.

He was not dead- they knew that. He was just…gone.

“What happened, agent?” The director asks, fiddling with his pen while another agent of his attempts to get some kind of reading on him. No luck; Aemond made himself untraceable. “Are you hurt, Aemond? Did someone threaten you? You left after I assigned you that mobster and- well, we assumed the worst, son.”

Aemond chuckles, shaking his head. “No, boss, do not worry about me," he says, "I’m good. Very good, in fact, the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, one might say.”

He leans against the doorway, arms crossing over his chest as he watches you flip through a baby store catalog and marvel at all the products they have for sale- the finest baby strollers, a variety of cribs, bassinets, and swing sets, and the cutest little animal plushies and clothing.

“Frankly, boss, I just grew tired of the spy life.”

“Is that so? And pray tell what you are now, Aemond One Eye.”

He smiles, eyeing your baby bump and how you are utterly glowing. “I’m a family man.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x modern!reader #aemond targaryen x you #modern!aemond #dark aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #request #vic writes 🧸

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reareaotaku · 8 months

Text

I Loathe You

Summary: You and Mike have always had this strange disdain feelings for each other, but what if emotions were just misinterpreted Pairings: Yandere! [Aged Up!] Mean! Mike Wheeler x Mean! Reader Tw: Mean! Mike, Mean! Reader, Teenager Mike & Reader [PT 2: I Don't Want to be your Friend, I Want to Kiss your Lips]

"Jump off a cliff, you asshole."

"You first, princess." Mike rolls his eyes, his face detorting in anger.

You didn't know why the zoology teacher had partnered you two together, even though you both were infamous for hating each other. There have been attempts to get the two of you to get along, but it obviously didn't work. People didn't understand why you hated each other, because you shared mutual friend groups and you guys were always around the same people.

"Trust me, everytime I see you I hope to be shot execution style, but I also don't want your face to be the last thing I see."

"Oh, don't worry," He turns to you, looking you dead in the eyes, "The feeling is mutual."

"Oh, isn't that great. For a second there I was worried you liked me."

"In your dreams."

"Only the scary ones."

You are practical nose to nose, as you both glare at each other. Your nose is scrunched up if looks could kill, you would both be dead.

"God, can yall just fuck already and get over with it?"

You both whip around towards Lucas, now glaring at him, instead of each other.

"How about you fall down a case of stairs?"

"And break your arm over the ramps," Mike adds, causing Lucas to put his hands up in defeat.

"Okay- Sorry, damn."

The group groaned as you and Mike went on a staring contest, before insulting whoever blinked. It was just another way for you both to not only one up another, but also to insult each other.

You blinked, causing Mike to fist bump the air, before calling you a 'Cockwhore.'

"Again." You straightened your back and you both went back to staring at eachother.

Some would think that one of you would get tired of the game, but you both loved to find any chance to insult each other. But, the group thought that maybe you guys liked looking at each other, especially in the eyes, but didn't want to admit it.

Mike scrunched his eyes and a smirk grew on you. He groaned, before blinking and you cheered, calling him a 'No Pussy Getting Bitch'.

He rolled his eyes, going towards his food and you were willing to take that win.

----

You groaned, tearing off the ticket, seeing Mike talking to your mutual friends. It was one thing that you both went to the same school, shared the same friends, but you also worked together. If you didn't make a shit ton in tips, you would have quit the minute you realized he work there.

Though, some might bring up the fact he had been working at the restaurant longer than you, but you did more work than him. He knew he could get away with it, because the regulars loved him, because he was a, in there words, 'Pretty Boy'.

You didn't think he was all that pretty. Sure, he had nice hands with nice long fingers and a sharp face with a defined jawline. Okay, and maybe his hair filled his face in a cute way and maybe his light freckles that covered his face had a nice charm. You shake your head and rid yourself of the thoughts. He was nothing special, he was just a guy. A guy who you guessed you could see the charm of- If he wasn't an asshole.

---

You grabbed your wound from where you had by clawed into by that plant-looking monster. Thankfully, you had gotten out of there, before it could take your head off. Mike was looking through the medicine cabinets, trying to find a first aid kit. It was... well weird.

Having almost died, you realized something. Life was to short for you to be spending it hating a guy who had never really done anything to you. You looked over at him, your nails digging into your skin, he had finally found the First-Aid kit.

He grabbed your hand, putting it on the countertop, before dabbing it with peroxide. You grimaced and he mumbled an apology. You felt strange, just early that day you had both been telling each other to die and now he was tending to your wounds.

"I'm sorry, Mike."

He looks up at you a little confused, "What?"

"I'm sorry," You looked away from him, not wanting to make eye contact with him, "For everything. All the fights, all the arguments, you know-"

"It's fine. I kind of look forward to our fights. You know? It's become routine." He jokes, wrapping your arm up.

You lightly sighed, "Well, I'm sorry and thank you for patching me up."

"It's nothing..."

There's a moment of silence and you don't know what to say. You want to say something, anything, but before you can break the silence, Mike does.

"You know, when I saw you..." He pauses and you're giving him your full attention. He looks at you, his eyes filled with anger and darkness. His eyes were nearly black, "bleeding... I think I died a little when I saw it. Something inside of me- I don't know, but I wanted to kill that stupid Demogorgon."

You're a little taken aback by Mike's confession. He grabs your hand and fiddles with it.

"I don't want to see anything bad to happen to you."

"Wow, Mike. I didn't know you felt that way about me."

"Of course. You're my friend." The word friend comes out like acid from his mouth. He didn't want to be your friend- he wanted to be so much more- but he didn't want to break the already thin ice.

"We're friends?"

He huffs, staring at your hands, "Yeah. At least I think we are."

"Huh, I thought you hated me-"

He looks at you, wide eyed, "Hate you? I thought YOU hated me-"

"You're always hating on me," You say, over exaggerating your non hurt hand.

"What?" He laughs, "I'm only returning your energy!"

You roll your eyes, looking away from him, "Yeah... If we were friends, I think I'd miss our fighting."

"Who says we have to stop fighting?"

#mike wheeler #yandere mike #yandere mike x reader #yandere mike wheeler x reader #mike wheeler x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #yandere stranger things x reader #yandere stranger things #yandere horror #yandere supernatural

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oneofthetorturedpoets · 7 months

Text

She’s a maneater part 1/?

parings: melissa schemmenti x reader

warnings for this chapter: melissa is a bully

you woke up with a jolt as the blanket was ripped off of you for the fifth time that night.

"oh my god, melissa" you groan, turning over, expecting to see her sleeping but shes wide awake on her side, with her head resting on her hand.

"you kept letting go of me and im tired of it." you chuckle slightly, trying to ignore your irritation. you pull her into you quickly, she yelps out. you lean in close.

"a simple ask would do you just fine, my love." you whisper against her lips.

"well, you know me, stubborn as always" she smiles and connects your lips, the domestic nature causing your heart to stutter, she pulls away slowly, her hand coming to your cheek. "I love you."

you and melissa weren’t always this way, it took a lot to get where you are now.

you were late your first day, traffic was stressing you out and you struggled to find parking spot in such a busy street, you had to park 5 minutes away. you were rushing into the school doors, through the hallway when-

BAM.

you slam right into the red headed teacher. her papers went flying and so did your ego. the look she gave you might as well killed you.

“i am so sorry-” she immediately drops to the floor, grabbing her stuff. you follow, trying to compensate for your clumsiness.

“why are you running through the doors anyways? if your kid is late then sign the damn tardy slip” angry radiating from her words.

“oh no- i don’t have a kid. i work here. i actually just got hired” her head swings over to look at you. you wish the earth would swallow you whole.

“30 minutes late on your first day” she scoffs. “great first impression, you’ll definitely get along with ava” she storms off, leaving me confused and flustered.

I walk down the hallways to the principals office, Ava is already leaning on the door frame, ready to great me.

"you're late." she says, sternly.

"I know, I'm so sorry, I couldn't find a parking spot so I parked super-"

"it was a joke, I don't care" she walks into her office. "pshhh no one told me I hired another Janine." she laughs, looking at the camera. the guy zooms in on my confused face. "anyways, you're in room 12, just down the hall, where you came in. your kids are currently with ms. schemmenti's class, room 13, you're taking her third graders also. if you talk to Melissa, she'll sort out who's who's." Ava's already on tiktok, laughing about a video before I can respond.

its going to be a long day.

I look up at the sign on the door that says room 13, I take a deep breath before opening the door, knocking as I do so. All of the attention is on me as the room goes quite. I look around the room, only seeing the students.

"hey kids! I'm the new third grade teacher that's going to be next door." they all shout hi in return. "where's your teacher?" I ask as the door opens again.

"oh god, not you again." I spin around, seeing the same redhead from earlier.

"uh- hi, im y/n y/ln. the teacher next door" I say, holding my hand out waiting for hers. she looks down at my hand and then back up at me, before rolling her eyes.

"alright guys! this is ms. y/ln, she will be taking half of you's with her, so if you're in third grade, please line up at the door, single file!" the students jump up, lining up in an almost perfect line.

"thank you, ms. schemmenti, if you need anything, ill be just over there." I say as I point towards the wall. she doesn't even look at me so I take it as a hint to leave.

three months later

“i’m tired of the new kid, she waltzes in here, all miss clumsy but charming, takes over the kids hearts and everyone loves her” melissa vents to barbra

“remind me again, are you trying to offend or compliment her? she’s been doing everything right, she’s the teacher we’ve been wanting to work here, what do you hate so much about her?” melissa stands up, pacing the 2nd grade class.

“she’s a newbie, and newbies make mistakes that we can’t afford” barbra shakes her head, not believing melissa.

“that’s not the real reason” the bell rings “talk to me when you find out the reason, until then, be nice to the kid” melissa huffs as she sits back down, watching barbra walk out and her kids march in.

a/n: first chapter of my new series is done!! this is a short chapter just to get something out there, hope you guys like it!

taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @dopenightmaretyphoon

to be added to my taglist, send in an ask!!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #law #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #x reader #new #wlw post #wlw fiction #my fic #fanfic

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 8 months

Note

hello! i’m not sure if ur taking requests but maybe an astarion x bard! tav who is neutral good? ik in game he hates it when we’re nice, so i’m wondering how you think he’d handle a tav who is not only kind but also not really interested in sex

Oooh, I like this! Time to bring out the bitchy cat energy. Because he is a bitch. Lot of Act 1 in game references here btw. Sfw, but y'know, Astarion sad boy backstory is always looming. Also conveniently ignoring the canon fact that Astarion doesn't know how to swim because I can~~~

Astarion supposed he could have come across a worse rag-tag crew of undesirables to associate with. It was made clear, disturbingly quickly, that he wouldn't have made it out here on his own. Not with the goblins and cultists lurking around every corner. And a damn vampire hunter for gods' sake.

Astarion could have done much worse than this merry-band of weirdos. Like laying dead in a ditch for instance. That said, it didn't change the fact that he was quickly growing tired of their leader's antics.

You were just so annoying. So selfless, in one of the stupidest ways he had ever seen. For one thing, why one earth would you ever trust a gith or Shar priestess? Or a vampire spawn for that matter. How no one had stabbed you in the back yet was beyond him, considering how you gave them every opportunity to do so.

Not that Astarion would, or at least not yet. But he could. Easily, considering all the misguided trust you had put in him.

But despite your flaws, he had to admit that you were capable, that much was clear. You were strong, quick, witty, and not above deception to keep the peace. He.... liked that about you, in a way. The extent to how far you would go to save others. It was courageous, as well as incredibly stupid, but he could respect it.

Slightly.

it helped that you were a cute little thing, even with the aggravating sunshine personality. Cute enough for Astarion to start thinking of... certain options. You would be easy to manipulate, he was sure of that. Enough so where his life could become one of your top priorities. You already seemed to like him, without him turning on the charm. It would be so easy to get you wrapped around his finger, with nothing but a few shiny words and some pleasant bed-warming. Nothing that he hadn't done before. And if anything, your absurd levels of kindness could.... make everything a little more pleasant than what he was used to. Gods willing.

And tonight seemed as good a time as any, considering everyone was still on a high from being the tiefling's heroes. You were excitedly talking at him, adorable in a frankly infuriating way. Or maybe the wine was working on him more than he had anticipated, he wasn't quite sure. But... your smile seemed extra enchanting tonight.

Enough so for him to get to the point after you asked how he was feeling, "I'm just looking for a little more excitement. A little more fun."

You cocked your head at him, innocently confused as he continued, "You know, we could always make our own entertainment darling. Get a little closer, so to speak."

"Sure!" You said, jumping on the opportunity faster than even Astarion had expected, "Can we do it now?"

Astarion blinked, pleased if not a bit surprised. He's not wholly against giving the camp a show, though the children still lurking about definitely put a damper on things. But maybe if you went far enough away...

"And can I choose what we do?" You asked, a wide smile on your face.

Astarion laughed, delighted at just how easy this was going to be, "Depends on how adventurous you're planning on being."

He hadn't expected you to grab his hand, easily intertwining your fingers with a smile, "I can show you."

Astarion hadn't been prepared for the quick escalation of events, but he was happy to abide by it. He nodded his head, giving your hand a small squeeze before saying, "Then lead the way."

And lead the way you did, right to the Waypoint of the swamp. Not exactly the most romantic place to be having sex, but Astarion had done worse. That was until you conjured the dancing lights, the dreary darkness suddenly transforming what should have been a putrid bog into a dreamy landscape, filled with flowers and freshwater.

Astarion looked to you, eyes wide, "How...?"

"We purified it!" You announced with a massive grin, "We did it this morning, before the party. Halsin and the other druids came down, I amped up their magic with a fantastic song, and bam! No more stench of the hag. Isn't it pretty?"

That... sounded exactly like something you would do, sweet thing that you were. Astarion nodded as he looked around, a little touched that you brought him here at all.

But as nice as the gesture was, he wasn't here for strictly fun. He had a plan, one that you were doing a wonderful job of putting into motion. Considering how you were in the middle of pulling your shirt over your head.

You looked at him expectantly, laughing a little when he rushed to join you. But before he could get his underclothes off, you were stepping away from him and... jumping into the water?

Astarion stared as you sputtered up to the surface, wiping your face with a loud laugh, "My gods, it's cold!"

"What on earth are you doing?" He called out to you, cautiously walking towards the water, "Are you trying to freeze to death?"

"Oh, hush!" You said, waving your hand in the air with a splash, "If we can kill an entire goblin camp than we can handle some cold water. Now get in already!"

Had he mentioned that you were aggravating yet?

But he hadn't made it this far to back out now. Besides, this was far from being on the list of the worst seduction tactics that he had to endure. Though it may have been the oddest one. Astarion couldn't remember a single time that jumping into a purified water pool led to lovemaking. But there was a first for everything. Though it didn't help that the water was indeed freezing.

"For fuck's sake," Astarion cursed when he came up for air, "This is your definition of fun?"

You giggled as you swam towards him, stopping to wrap your arms around his neck with a smile. Another unexpected move from you, a factor that he hadn't expected, but found oddly endearing.

You were playing with a lock of his wet hair, twisting it between your fingers as he wrapped his arms around you, "Well the fun part hasn't started yet."

Astarion laughed softly, his eyes zeroing in on your lips, "Is it about to start now?"

"I think it is," You whispered back, "You ready for it?"

"More than you know," Astarion murmured, leaning in to finally connect your mouth.

But before he could press his lips against yours you were dodging him, giggling as you whispered in his ear, "Good. Let's race."

And then you were pulling away from him entirely, diving under the water just to show back up a few feet away, a manic grin on your face, "Whoever gets to the opposite bank first wins!"

And then you were off, swimming away. You little cheater. Astarion didn't even think as he want after you, a childish competitiveness taking over. You still won, of course you did with that large of a head start, but he managed to beat you on the second and third try.

By his fourth win you were officially pouting, which only devolved into a splashing fight from there. One that he gracefully let you win.

It was all so stupid. Completely juvenile and beneath him. But then why was he having so much fun?

Eventually, you both got out of the water, opting to sit on the bank as you talked. Just... talking. Nothing more, and about the silliest things:

"If Halsin can turn into a bear, do you think I could learn how to grow an extra finger or two? It would make the lute playing so much easier."

"If you don't mind looking like a freak than sure. Are you thinking of literally growing them or having them attached?"

"If, and just hypothetically, Lae'zel and Shadowheart fought to the death, who would win?"

"Darling in all honesty, I think it would just devolve into lesbian sex."

"If you could go anywhere in the world, right now, where would it be?"

"...I think it would be here."

It was a startlingly fun conversation, one that had Astarion being sincere in ways that made him uncomfortable. But that didn't stop him from participating. The two of you talked about anything and everything until the sky started to lighten, both of you leaning into each other as you watched the sunrise.

That was something Astarion would never tire of, how beautiful the light and sky looked at the start of the day. Part of him still couldn't believe that he was able to see it at all, after two centuries of darkness. But now here he was, sitting on a peaceful riverbank after talking the night away, almost like... like he was a person. A real person who mattered. With someone who somehow thought the same.

You sighed, your head resting on Astarion's shoulder as you watched the pink sky, "We should head back soon. Before anyone starts to worry."

Astarion nodded, his heart clenching the slightest bit when you pulled away to stand. He... didn't want this to end. Not yet. Not when he-actually now that he thought about it, he hadn't done anything in the past eight hours that he had planned. The two of you hadn't even kissed, despite the fact that you had spent the vast majority of the night wet and in your undergarments.

How in the hells did that happen?

Astarion was still trying to figure that out as you tossed his shirt and pants his way. He stood, hastily putting it on while he struggled to figure out what to say next. He was completely off his usual script, at a complete loss as you re-opened the magical waypoint.

You turned back to look at him, that same sweet smile on your face that you had been wearing the whole night, "You ready to go?"

Astarion wasn't the type to stutter, but that's where he found himself when he blurted out, "I- wait- I mean, is that it?"

You cocked your head at him with a tiny frown, one that Astarion wanted off of your face immediately, "Did you not have fun?"

"I didn't say that, but it wasn't exactly the fun that I was referring to," Astarion said as he closed the distance between you, regaining a fraction of his usual forced confidence. Why were you so good at making him feel off-kilter?

He took your hand in his, reverting back to the seduction tactics he knew as he used his other hand to tilt your chin up, "I was thinking something a little more... intimate."

"I know what you meant," You said with a little laugh, giving his hand a small squeeze, "But my way seemed just as enjoyable, don't you think?"

"Darling, that's not exactly the point I was trying to make."

"Oh, I'm aware, but it was mine," You said easily, standing on your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek, "Thank you Astarion. It was fun, and I hope we can spend more time together like that in the future."

And just like that you were pulling away again, letting go off his hand to step into the portal, the feeling of your lips against his skin still lingering as you disappeared. Despite himself, Astarion brought his fingers up to where you kissed him, standing there like an imbecile as new feelings started to course through him. Emotions that he had no names for.

Maybe... this was going to be a lot harder than he thought it would.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #asks #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #cutsey #pre-relationship basically #our boy is trying lol #silly things

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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months

Note

Prompt #15 with Megumi? Rivals to lovers with happy ending please ♥️

There you go, I'm so so sorry this took so long <3 I hope you still enjoy it, I find it quite hard to write enemies to lovers under 5000 words :D

Opposites attract

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,3k

Synopsis: Megumi hated you the moment you stepped into Jujutsu High for the first time. As time flies, he always sees himself confronted with you on missions. However, one of these missions makes him rethink his feelings towards you

Warnings: Megumi is an ass from time to time, language

„Why am I here, blindworm?“

There you sit, sloughing on your chair at the classroom, feet stretched out in front of you. Damn, you were taking the best nap of your life when your stupid sensei came storming in and woke you up rudely. He surely wants to send you on another mission – hopefully alone. If you have to work with one of these losers again, you break off.

Especially him.

God, you truly hated Megumi Fushiguro. His quiet way, tall figure and calculating personality. He is quite the opposite of your outspoken, confident and risky self. Maybe that’s why you two don’t get along at all. And maybe that’s the reason why you always end up together. Hopefully not today…

“As charming as ever, I like that. I have a mission for you, (y/n)!”, Gojo cries out in joy.

“Again? I just returned from one. Remember?”

“I remember that you wiped the floor with Megumi’s ass, even though that wasn’t exactly the task”, he replies dryly.

“Yeah, that was fun.”

Both you and Megumi are grade 2 sorcerers while being in your first school year, which means that you can basically carry out missions alone but are happily sent together by Gojo for more complicated matters – much to your chagrin and probably his. So whenever you get the chance to give Megumi a hard time you gladly seize the opportunity.

“Don’t be so rough, I know you have a sweet spot for charming boys like him.”

Oh, you know all too well that your sensei just wants to get on your nerves. But as soon as he mentions positive feelings towards a coward like Megumi, you can’t help but explode.

“Shut up, ew! I have no sweet spot for anybody!”

“Yeah, everyone here knows that”, Megumi’s low voice mumbles behind you.

“You.”

Your voice is shaking in venom while the vein on your forehead threatens to pop out any minute.

“What the hell is that loser doing here?”, you groan, face completely twisted in annoyance.

You just knew it. Seems like it’s Satoru’s favorite job to annoy the shit out of you by always putting the two of you together.

“Come on, give me Panda. Or what about Maki? Some girl-power would be nice. But not that”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“God, you’re so full of yourself. Remember the last time when I saved your puny figure from getting eaten alive by that curse? You’re probably the worst and cruelest person I’ve ever met”, Megumi barks back in annoyance.

“I don’t mind being the villain in your story because you’re a clown in mine, Fushiguro.”

“That was the nicest conversation you two had in a long time, great! Now let’s get to work, I’m sure you’re doing just fine my children!”, Gojo interrupts while hugging you both.

Is there a way out of this madness? Maybe you can pretend you’re sick, too weak to go on a mission. But that’s not your standard and you know that. Giving Megumi the satisfaction of staying at home while he gets beaten up isn’t an option.

“Maybe I’m lucky and you die on me”, you mumble under your breath, storming out of the room faster than Megumi can follow past Yuji who just stares at you in awe.

God, Megumi hates you so much. How can a person be so full of herself? Yes, your abilities are quite outstanding, your curse technique is very good for being a first class student and to be honest you are actually pretty handsome, but the problem is that you are very aware of those facts. And you make no bones rubbing that into everyone’s face – especially his. His stolen glance is set on your back. You do have a really nice figure, feminine curves even though you train several hours a day. Yes, really attractive.

He shakes his head in disbelief. What the hell is he thinking? You are the crappiest person he knows, everything about you is disgusting, he hates you!

“Wow, they really hate each other”, Yuji comments, eyes following the two of you in disbelief.

“No, they don’t. Trust me, this is something completely different. And I love nothing more than teasing that out”, Gojo replies with a cheeky grin.

______________________________________________________________

“Stop breathing so loud, Fushiguro.”

Kiyotaka can’t help but glance at you in the rearview mirror, too stunned to speak by your nonsensical words. Why does Gojo keep sending the two of you on missions together? The air in the car is so thick that it could be sliced by a katana.

“Rot in hell, (y/n).”

He never heard such cruel words come out of Megumi’s mouth except when you are around.

“I’m already there, you’re here after all”, you bark back.

“Stop fighting you two, we’re almost there.”

Your gaze wanders around the rainy area. Somehow he’s right, you should focus on your mission. The fact that two of you were sent here can only mean that it’s going to get ugly. Once again it’s about a school, once again a lot of young people are dying. You need to stop this madness.

“There you are, I’ll create the curtain now. Good look you two.”

“Skilled people don’t need luck, but maybe it’ll help you Megumi.”

His blood boils in anger, just a glimpse into your stupid pretty faces challenges his self-control all over. Who do you think you are?

“What’s wrong with you? Can you just pull yourself together until we ended this mission? I hate you too, but now we have to work”, Megumi smacks into your direction.

“Always the good boy, such a role model! I want to puke in your face, it makes me fucking sick!”, you challenge him, watching as his facial expression darkens with every word.

“You.”

With a swift motion, you’re trapped against the wall by his body. Your sharp and fast breath hangs in the thick air between you two, the way he pins your wrists against the brick wall makes…sparks fly. You can’t help but notice his striking blue eyes when he glares down at you, the warmth that radiates from his body along with his delicious scent. Fuck, what is wrong with you? Why is your face heating up under his gaze, why does it feel so…good to feel his frame pressed against your own? His lips suddenly look so inviting, so warm and soft. But no, you hate him, you hate Megumi since you first met, he is everything you despise reincarnated in one person. God, he annoys you so badly, you need to get out of his grip, you need to-

“Stop it. I’m serious”, he gasps against your face, lips so close to your own that you can feel his breath brush against your now prickly skin.

Fuck, you see stars. His grip around your wrist tightens, his face is getting closer to yours. Will he…? No, that’s impossible, Megumi hates you with all his heart, he told you over and over again. And you hate him too since the moment you first laid your eyes on him. But why…why do you feel the urge to press your lips against his?

“Or what?”

Your voice is suddenly so soft and vulnerable. God, you look so adorable with that pink blush creeping up your cheeks, lips parted and doe eyes wide open. That desire, that urge to brush his lips against yours seems to become unbearable. Just once, just this one damn time. Just to prove to himself how disgusting you are.

Boom.

It happens faster than any of you can react. The wall behind you explodes and buries you under its rubble.

You are instantly greeted by scorching pain consuming your whole body. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Blood streams down your face like a waterfall, your right leg aches in the most disgusting way imaginable.

“Fuck, are you alright (y/n)?”, Megumi screams, eyes widen in horror.

So much blood. Your whole body seems to be covered in crimson. Even though you’re not screaming or even groaning, he can clearly see the shock creeping up your eyes when realization hits you. But he has to focus on that curse. Yes, he needs to take care of that before he can help you.

You desperately try to free yourself from the debris that threatens to crush your body while Megumi fights off the curse that seems to be responsible for all of this. As usual, his facial expression is dead serious while his little shikigami work for him.

“How bad is it?”, he questions, eyes focused on the monster in front of him.

Your leg feels like burning alive, a little glance at your body is enough for you to realize that you are not well. Maybe even so critical that time is running out for you.

“It’s bad”, you hiss back while pressing your trembling hand against the gash in your thigh.

A few broken ribs, a laceration on the head, here and there some open wounds and abrasions – nothing too serious, you’ll get over that. But the giant gash in your thigh is definitely something else. Your leg was almost completely pierced by an iron rod. Surely that wouldn’t be a problem either if the bar was still in you, but it isn’t. And that’s why you’re bleeding out at the moment.

Finally that curse is gone. Just a look at you is enough to make Megumi turn pale in an instant. You’re sitting in a pool of your own blood, lids hanging heavy in your eyes. His heart skips a beat when realization hits him like a wall. You could die right here if he doesn’t do anything.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here”, he mumbles, hands on their way to grab your body.

“I don’t need your help, Fushiguro”, you growl at him.

“Are you sure? Cause it sure does look like it”, Megumi replies dryly and begins to inspect your wounds.

“If even half of that blood is yours you need to get out of here right now. I’m calling Gojo-sensei.”

“Everything hurts”, you blur out.

The sight of your terrified eyes makes Megumi’s heart sink in his chest. He has never seen you like this. But what’s even worse is the fact that he is so damn worried about you, that the thought of losing you alone makes his breath hitch.

“Stay with me. Don’t close your eyes.”

His voice sounds so soft, echoes as sweet as honey in your ear.

“Megumi.”

His strong arms free you from the rest of the rubble above you and lift your numb body off the ground with ease. Your vision slowly but surely begins to get blurry, it gets so hard to keep your tired eyes open.

“What is it, (y/n)?”, he softly asks while maneuvering his shikigami around in order to find the other curses that have to be here.

“I don’t remember a moment where you were so kind to me”, you purr.

“Well, that’s because there wasn’t a single moment where you were so kind to me”, he remarks with a small smile.

“I h-have to say…That…That you’re not…t-that bad.”

Your words are a true mess, so quiet that he has to focus on your low voice in order to understand. But oh you look so lovely, wearing a soft smile on your lips and that tender gleam in your eyes makes his heart skip a beat. Over and over, he told himself that he truly hates you, that you are an evil person that doesn’t deserve his affection. Always keen to hide his stolen glances and the way your sight makes him hold his breath. Your body, your brain, your everything. But seeing you like this, vulnerable laying in his hands, he can’t help but admire you. Admire a woman this strong and independent, a woman who never fears anything.

“You’re pretty okay too I guess”, he replies, hands wrapped tighter around your sagging body.

“How about staying awake for a little longer? I bet you can’t make it until we’re back at Jujutsu High.”

“I bet I will, asshole.”

____________________________________________________________

“She kept bugging me about telling you that she stayed awake to the end. And that you’re a loser.”

“So she’s fine, that’s great!”, Gojo proclaims and pads Megumi’s shoulder.

It was a close call, he knows it. And that sweet seconds just before the wall behind your back shattered…What was that? Affection? No, no, no. That’s simply not possible. You are the worst person walking on this planet. The thought of you alone makes his gut twist in disgust and heats up his face. You drive him crazy like no other. And the fact that you almost died and were a decent person for one second won’t change that.

“Should have left her there. I’m leaving”, Megumi mumbles and turns away.

Why was he here anyway? Shoko already stitched him up a few hours ago, he has no business being in the hospital wing. “Didn’t you want to visit her, Megumi-chan?”

“I would rather train with you than seeing her. Why would I care about her well-being?”, he remarks quickly.

Gojo and Shoko watch him as he storms out.

“Do they really think they hate each other?”

“Yup”, Gojo confirms.

The fresh air of the evening hits his face with full force. Fuck, what the hell is wrong with him? Why is he feeling this way? He shouldn’t be worried about your well-being, he shouldn’t care at all about the fact that you are injured. After all, you put yourself in that situation. God, he just hates you so much. In his world, there’s no place for positive feelings towards you. But still… He stops in his tracks, eyes glued to the ground.

Why does he want to turn around, to let his feet carry him into the hospital room, to sit beside you? What is it that urges him to at least check on you? Pictures of you flood his mind. Your breathtaking smile, the stunning glimmer in your eyes, the confidence that’s dripping from your sweet voice. Why do you have to be so damn perfect and why the hell is his heart beating so fast by the thought of it alone?

As if in trance, he begins to walk back into the direction of the hospital wing, back where you are. He has to prove to himself how much he hates you just one more time. Just once…

He quietly sneaks past the room where he hears Shoko and Gojo still talking. If you have to stay for the night, you have to be down the corridor on the right. Over and over, he looks over his shoulder. If someone catches him sneaking up on you he might need to burry himself alive. All the jokes, the constant teasing from Gojo about you and him really get on his nerves. Why can’t they see that he fucking hates you?

There it is, the door to you. As noiseless as possible he opens it and gets immediately greeted by your gaze. You almost look surprised when he closes the door behind him again and awkwardly stands in the middle of the room, simply staring at you with his hands in his pockets.

“Didn’t expect you here”, you comment dryly.

“Yeah, I didn’t plan on coming either.”

“Did Shoko tell you that I stayed awake?”

“Sure.”

“And that you’re a loser?”

He gifts you with his most annoyed look.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Listen, there’s something I wanted to tell you in person…”, you begin while nervously fumbling with your fingers.

This catches Megumi off guard. You always know what to say or react. How is it possible that you are jumpy? And to top it off, because of him?

“Why did you save me, Megumi?”

What on earth is going on? He scratches the back of his head, too stunned to speak. Are you serious?

“Just because you think I’m the bad guy doesn’t mean I am a bad guy, y’know”, he mumbles.

You let his words sink in, gaze never leaving his face. The last hours really showed you that Megumi isn’t as bad as you always tried to make yourself believe. He saved you despite all the things you said to him without even blinking, risking his own life to save yours. Maybe…maybe it isn’t even hatred you feel towards him.

But something completely different.

“I will never say this again but…I think you’re my favorite enemy”, you confess quietly with a small smile.

Megumi’s heart stops beating for a second, your sweet words triggering feelings in him he tried so hard to avoid. God, how many nights did he tell himself that you are no good, that he just has to hate you with all his heart? But…Is he really hating you though?

“I can probably give that back”, he mumbles.

For once in his life, Megumi sees nothing but your striking beauty and brain when his gaze meets yours. Maybe, just maybe you aren’t as bad as he thought you are. But why does he feel so strongly towards you? What the hell is wrong with his heart?

“Let me kiss you. Just once. Just to prove myself that I hate you”, he blurts out.

You hold your breath, dopamine, adrenalin and who knows what other hormones pump through your veins and leave you dizzy for a second. You didn’t just hallucinate him saying that, right? The sincerity in his eyes tells you he’s dead serious.

“Sure”, you reply automatically.

With fast steps he crosses the room, now standing in front of you. And then he bends down to your bed, grabs your face and kisses you so passionately that you forget how to breathe for a moment. Your tongue intertwines with his, dancing in the most delicate way while you hold onto his strong shoulders for support. Is this really happening or are you dreaming again? Just a few hours ago, you spat venom at him like every other month before. But this…This feels so much better than constantly insulting him and to pretend that you hate him with all your heart. You realize with all clarity of your intense kiss that you probably never really hated him. No, this feeling his completely different from disgust.

He breaks away from you, panting hard just like you. Your glossy eyes look up to him, hands still resting against his shoulders.

“Yes, I do. I absolutely hate you”, he breathes out.

“I hate you too”, you moan before pulling him close with all force for another passionate kiss.

Maybe, just maybe Megumi Fushiguro isn’t so bad after all.

But just maybe.

_____________________________________________________________

Bonus:

“Oh, (y/n)! Are you feeling any better?”, Yuji shouts at you while waving you over.

“OMG, are you seeing this. Am I dreaming?”, Nobara mutters next to him, completely mesmerized by the sight of you and Megumi.

Are those shikigami? Your hand is intertwined with Megumi’s, the both of you walking next to each other and…smile? Since when exactly are you smiling at Fushiguro?

“What do you mean?...Wait, when the hell did this happen?”

“Megumi, I thought you hate (y/n)!”

“Would you two mind to stop staring at us like that? (y/n) and I are kind of a thing now”, Megumi explains briefly while stopping in front of both of his friends.

“Did he force you into this, (y/n)?”, Nobara whispers in your ear.

You let out a heartfelt laughter, the confusion of your friends matching with your own.

“This might be the worst decision I ever made, but let’s see how it all works out.”

Megumi gives you a reproachful look and squeezes your hand firmer. Oh, even in a relationship, there will always be that small part of him that hates you.

Along with the much bigger part that loves you with all his heart.

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satoruhour · 9 months

Note

What do you think about gojo begging reader for a duck lmao? Maybe he wants kids but reader thinks 20 is too young so now he really wants a duck?

a/n: anon u so fuckin real for this, enjoy !!!! had lots of fun writing this / tagging my gojo luvers @jabamin @hyomagiri @crysugu @satohruu

yeah. yeah he would.

would be so eager about it too, like arent you fathering megumi and tsumiki ??? dude

my hc is that yes he took them in around 18 and you were already together with him and getting used to taking care of the two kids

but he would randomly get baby fever while seeing you be so caring and loving to the two, and not to mention for the first two years megumi usually stuck by you LMAOOO

tsumiki warms up to gojo more or less but theres still some barrier between gojo and the kids

so one day while youre both waiting for megumi and tsumiki at their school two years later he randomly announces in his annoying voice that “we should make a baby!!!!”

god the faces of all the parents waiting together with them 😭😭😭 and it’s so funny too cause it’s implied in S1 the siblings walk home together without a guardian and they would do perfectly fine without the two of you.

and bc of megumi’s usual embarrassment of gojo (and sometimes you) he tells you two to stay home cause he knows where you guys live but gojo just HAD to bring you here today bc he finished a mission nearby (lies. his fav kikufuku store opened an outlet near the school) and whats wrong with wanting to see the kids ya know

but anyway you seized his arm and slapped it just as the kids were coming out and shoved him so hard he almost fell. he fake cried that night in your arms and megumi made sure to ban you both from visiting both their schools ever again (it was right next to each other)

it doesnt seem to affect gojo much however until megumi brings home a consent slip for a farm excursion and hes like sure! he goes on the website of the farm and gets a splendid idea

well, splendid by his standards, but terrible by yours

[9:50am, delivered]: satoru i almost couldn’t find ur contact why did u change it 😭😭😭

[9:56am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: DAMN? why ??? curse me for wanting a cute name on my baby’s phone.

you literally saved me as “gojo satoru”

[9:57am, delivered]: bc thats literally ur name u fucking loser ?????

[9:59am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: photo attached

[10:01am, delivered]: you went finding for that pic didnt you

you’re so engrossed in the conversation (or rather, you making fun of him), pausing so intently that the person behind you has to ask you to move so you can order some damn mochi for your sweets-obsessed boyfriend. but before you can open your mouth to tell the cashier what you wanted, there’s another text that comes in and you’re torn between confusion and incredulity.

[10:01am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: also can we get a duck

[10:02am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: and NO i dont mean a fuck you dirty girl muhahah i know you thought that

eh, well, maybe you did.

[10:02am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: please pleasp eeplelasepplea

and also, you think that maybe you didn’t really want to buy kikufuku for your boyfriend anymore.

gojo is elated later when you hand him the bag of mochi from his favourite store, him still following you around like a puppy, looking almost comical with his tall figure crouching so low.

“so?”

“we are not getting a duck, satoru,” you sigh with your hands on your hips because when gojo begs like that it’s just so adorable, but the other doesn’t let up, using his blue-eyed charm on you and you hate to admit that it’s working — except maybe you would give in if it was a cat or a dog or even a hamster.

“a duck?”

gojo shoots up immediately and you’re reminded of his impending height compared to yours, “yes!”

“no!”

your boyfriend pouts again and reverts to his submission-to-you pose as tsumiki likes to call it, “pleaseee?”

you make a big dramatic out of thinking, “hm, get on your knees.”

gojo’s surprised but he does it without a second thought and you’re taken aback just a little at his obedience. if this was the way to get him to properly wash the kids’ clothes or to clean up after eating in the messiest way known to man, you’d get him to do it all the time, but you’re snapped out of your little realisation when megumi opens the door, tsumiki next to him giggling non-stop — the excursion bus probably had dropped them off on the front porch.

“what’s going on?” you’d think it was the other way round: the two siblings being the responsible adults whilst you two were acting like kids, especially with the way megumi asks the question. gojo isn’t phased.

“trying to convince your surrogate mother here,” gojo nudges his head toward you with a slight scowl on his face, “to get us a duck.” your hand lands a smack against the back of his neck.

megumi pulls a face and tsumiki only laughs even more and starts to nudge megumi with choked laughter, seeing his hands start to form a sign: his rabbit, no, divine dogs shikigami—

four ducks start materialising from shadows, crowding around the two of you and bombarding you with both quacks and playful nips on your skin and your temporary anger with your boyfriend fades, focusing on the seemingly happy faces of the ducks and the way they waddle. you’re stuck in between laughter and the softness of their feathers until—

“oh, this is their natural state, but they turn into angry, sorta scary geese on command too, although i haven’t really gotten the hang on it—”

gojo’s eyes widen, “megs, no!”

needless to say, megumi sits a little sheepishly later as he watches gojo clean up your scratches and mild wounds, getting a well-deserved (light) lecture and a kiss on the forehead later from you for discovering a new shikigami during movie night, gaining a little smile from gojo as he cuddles a sleeping tsumiki closer.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut

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angelcakestarlet · 4 months

Text

gold rush

van palmer x reader : the yellowjackets catch onto van's crush on their one of their teams cheerleaders

"van!", the whistle catches vans attention across the moist green field. "did you not see the ball coming straight for your god damn head?" coach martinez questions the dazed ginger. "focus come on!" coach blows the whistle to reset before she even gets the chance to get up. van might not be the tallest girl on the team, but she was the perfect pick for goalie. when the ball came towards that net she was a fiery cannon launching to protect the box. after their last game, 0-3, and an undefeated season, people started saying the game was rigged due to the yellowjackets goalie being psychic. while van was no psychic, she had a knack for predicting what her opponent would do next. according to her she "just goes with her gut". however, lately her 'gut' seems a little distracted.

each second van's eyes were not on the girls pursuing the net, they were on the girl's soccer team cheerleaders. particularly, you. van couldn't help simply 'observing' the way your skirt hiked up your soft thighs as you demonstrated your moves to the squad. or the way your ponytail sat high on your head and the sweat slipped down your neck... and that's how she ended up on the floor, soccer ball to the head with a sorry laura lee cowering over her. coach martinez yelling had caught your attention as you peered across the field to spot the redhead laying exasperated in her goalie box. you would be lying if you said you hadn't noticed her initially when you first began cheering for the team. her quick hands and strong calves from all the laps coach made them run around the field before practice. you were always the confident type, not shy when it came to boys, your team mates, and getting what you want. but van had a struck a different chord in you, one you were all too familiar with after watching bound with jennifer tilly and gina gershon in theaters that october. while your van halen and backstreet boys posters covered the fore front of your pink room, corky posters were plastered all over your closet. but corky was a character in a movie, you'd never gotten that feeling at the pit of your stomach from a girl in real life, right? well there was that time in eight grade when you and your friend practiced kissing for the winter formal. but that was one time; until now. that feeling in your stomach kicked in every time you got a look at the goalie and it ticked you off. the one time you wanted to put your cherry lip gloss adorned smile to work your nerves got the best of you. it was nearly winter break now and you had only spoken to van in passing during practice and games. your cheeks stung red recalling the night they won states, "maybe you're our lucky charm out there" she had rushed towards you still pumping adrenaline from the win, you cracked a smile in response before she corrected herself, "you and the rest of the girls of course".

now, you lightly jogged (not wanting to look too concerned) towards her and laura lee. "hey, are you ok? i could hear the ball thump against your head from all the way over there." she leaned up, making eye contact with you and chuckling, "are you calling me a hard head?" her teammates looked back at you two as they reset to their positions. "it was me, i really didn't mean to vanessa honestly!" laura lee apologized frantically. "it's alright laura lee, just go back before coach kicks both our asses". you offer van a hand to help her up, "thanks" she huffs out. at the first attempt of standing she wobbles and makes her way back to the ground, "shit i'm dizzy". "alright look l/n, take her to the nurse please. jackie pose as goalie for now." coach directs his attention to two of you as he notices van's state. you widen your eyes at his request as that feeling kicks in again causing your stomach to churn. you hesitantly agree and help van up once more with her arm propped up on your shoulder. "fuck i hate the nurse, misty quigley is always in there with her." you giggle, "i'm guessing misty is the last thing you want to see right now." "when does anyone want to see misty quigley?" you nod in agreement, every encounter with misty is never something you look forward to. "i can take you to the locker room, i have some pain medicine and water in there if you just want to lay down for a second. without the presence of misty quigley of course." "why thank you, that sounds lovely" she says drowsily accompanied by that silly accent she puts on.

you practically drag van to the locker room and sit her down on the bench by your locker. "i think staring at your locker will only make my headache worse" van snickers referring to your locker decorated in bright pink paint and a big hair bow front and center. "hey, don't make fun of my locker. remember who just saved your life!" you pout at her. "sorry, sorry how could i forget. after all you are the teams lucky charm." she proclaims dramatically. "well is my squad the lucky charm or is it just me, cause if i remember correctly..." van lays down against the bench chuckling, "well you're the only one i pay any attention to at least". you pause while rummaging through your locker for some ibuprofen, turning to face the girl. she looks back at you, "what? hey, are you blushing or did you just get a little heavy handed with the powder today?" you bring your hands to your cheeks and feel the warmth against your skin. "i think you have a concussion van." you dismiss her flirty comments and hand her two ibuprofen and an unopened water bottle. "what makes you say that?" her fingers brushing against yours as she takes the pills, you roll your eyes at her sudden boldness. "you rarely speak to me and now you're saying that you pay attention to me?" the silence in the locker room stiff as you hear her swallow. "what can i say, i find it hard to talk to pretty girls." you stifle a giggle "woah you're totally blushing now, you can't deny it man". you turn to face her a smile plastered on your seemingly flushed face. "this is how you thank me for nursing you back to health?" you raise your eyebrows, "well what do you have in mind miss cheer captain?" she sits up leaning on her arms settled behind her. "stop getting hit in the head so that we make it to nationals." "it's kind of hard not to when you're out there in this little skirt," she takes the end of your pleated skirt between her fingers "what else am i supposed to look at?". if your stomach was churning before, it's like a battalion of butterflies at war in there now. "are you hitting on me, palmer?" you look up at her through your lashes. "would that be so terrible?" her face suddenly (nearly) serious. before you can answer, the door to the locker room swings open, all the girls piling in, sweaty and with dirt covered knees. "so what's the diagnosis, y/n, is she doomed?" nat's voice comes creeping around the corner. you get up quickly, shutting your locker and flattening your skirt. "definitely." van's eyes follow you as you leave. when the door shuts behind you, nat and lottie erupt in laughter. "does she know she is the reason for your little concussion?" they come up behind van, teasing her. "i'm injured, leave me alone!" the goalie rests her head against your pink locker and groans as her team mates share a round of "ooo''s amongst themselves.

thank u for reading :> i think van is super underrated and needs more fics, i love her!!! hope u enjoyed!

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