#this *relationship* .......... thought this was *so* sweet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewulf · 3 days

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Escapism || Azriel

Summary: Request -can you make an azriel x night court reader fanfic request? I was listening the song escapism by raye and this just kinda came to me! It's kinda unhinged so you can change whatever if you choose to write it. Y/N and Lucien have been together for like 100+ years but then Elain Archeron comes along and they are mates so lucien begrudgingly breaks up with Reader... Read Rest Here

A/N: This one is sad but gets sweet towards the end. Reader is in her feelings!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Night Court Reader)

Word Count: 6.1k +

TW: Drunkeness, reader being mean, some physical altercations

Your relationship with Lucien had always felt destined. Willing it to be woven by the threads of fate and bound by centuries of love and laughter. For over a hundred years, you and Lucien had built a life that straddled the boundary between the Autumn Court and the Night Court, which you called home. It was a life full of compromises and sacrifices, but every moment was a testament to the depth of your affection for each other.

But fate had a funny way of not being so destined. Elain Archeron stepped into the picture. Her very presence unraveling the future you had envisioned. When Lucien revealed that Elain was his mate the foundation of your world crumbled. This wasn’t just about losing a lover. It was about the rending of a bond you believed was unbreakable. Lucien’s voice trembled with conflict as he confessed the truth. His amber eyes reflecting a pain that echoed your own. He didn’t want to leave you, but the mating bond was not something either of you could fight. It was powerful, demanding, and absolute. It was destiny.

Amidst your heartbreak a more piercing pain emerged when you discovered that your friends—Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and even Nesta—had known about Elain and her bond with Lucien before you did. Half of the Inner Circle knew, and the other half was excluded. Amren, Mor, you and Azriel were the ones left in the dark. They had kept it a secret hoping to protect you from the inevitable heartache. Yet this revelation only deepened your sense of betrayal. How could they, the ones you considered family, keep you in the dark about something that would shatter your life?

The night you found out was an uncomfortable one. You weren't usually one for confrontation, but the rage that built up inside you was ready to explode. As you sat among Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and Nesta in the quiet, imposing space of the House of Wind the air felt thick with tension. They began to explain, voices low and fraught with anxiety. They each detailed how they had known about Elain and Lucien’s mate bond for months. Their words were meant to be comforting but were instead filled with reasons and justifications about protecting you from heartache, sparing your feelings until they absolutely had to share the truth.

Sitting across from them in the quietude of the House of Wind you couldn’t hold back the surge of anger and disappointment that welled up inside you. "How could you?" you demanded, your voice quivering not just with sorrow, but with indignation. "You all knew. For months, you knew, and not one of you thought to warn me?"

Rhysand had a somber expression. He was the first to respond. "We struggled with whether to tell you," he admitted. His usual confidence replaced by a hesitancy that did little to quell your growing resentment. "The last thing we wanted was to see you hurt."

"And yet, here I am. Hurt all the same," you shot back. The pain sharp in your voice. "Hurt and betrayed. You chose to protect me from heartache but instead you ensured it."

Feyre reached out with her hand tentative and unsure. "We thought we were doing the right thing. We thought it might not happen. That maybe the bond wouldn’t take hold right away and..."

"And what?" you interrupted ripping your hand away from her touch. "That I’d what? Be spared the pain? Look at me, Feyre. Do I look spared to you?" Your voice was sharp. Sharper than you’d ever spoken to any of them before.

Cassian who was usually the one to lighten the mood sat unusually quiet. His usual bravado nowhere in sight. Nesta had her jaw set, her eyes revealing a turmoil that mirrored your own. It was a rare glimpse into her often-guarded emotions.

"It was never about doubting your strength," Cassian finally said, his voice low. "It was about giving you happiness for as long as we could."

"Happiness built on a lie?" you asked. The irony was bitter on your tongue. "Is that what our friendship is about? Lies?"

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Each of them struggled with their choices, now clearly regretting the pain those choices had caused. It was evident in their downcast eyes and the slump of their shoulders. It was a shared burden yet unequally felt.

"I'm not just some fragile piece of glass," you continued. Your anger only fueled by their silence. "I deserved to know, to make my own choices. To prepare, or... to say goodbye on my own terms."

The conversation that followed was a painful unraveling of trust and intent. As they each tried to explain, to justify, you realized that this wound would take time to heal. Perhaps what stung the most was the realization that their intentions had robbed you of your agency. Leaving you to a mere spectator in your own life. They spoke of protection. Of sparing you pain. Each explanation threading through the air with the weight of unspoken truths now laid bare. Their voices blended into a cacophony of excuses, each one fueling the fire of your anger and hurt further.

Rhysand’s voice held a note of desperation as he tried once more to explain, "We only wanted—"

"Would you just shut up! All of you!" you erupted cutting him off mid-sentence. Your voice, resolute, sliced through the room. "I don't want to hear it. Nothing you can do or say will make this right.” The room went deathly silent. The gravity of your words hanging heavily between you. Their faces were etched with regret and shock at your outburst. It was a stark reminder of the deep rift that had formed within your group.

You stood abruptly. The chair scraping sharply against the floor. "I can’t be here," you stated flatly. Your voice colder now, resolved. Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, each step echoing your departure.

You needed space. Needed air to breathe away from the stifling atmosphere of justifications and apologies. You decided to go to Mor’s place. She too hadn’t known about Elain and Lucien. She hadn’t been part of the deceit that had upended your world. As you left the House of Wind the open sky above seemed to offer the first breath of true freedom since the revelation had shattered your peace.

The walk to Mor’s was quiet. The streets of Velaris holding a serene calm that contrasted sharply with the storm inside you. Reaching her house, you knocked briskly, and she opened the door with a surprised, yet immediately concerned expression.

"Can I stay here for a bit?" you asked without preamble. The weariness in your voice more pronounced now that you were away from the others.

"Of course," Mor responded instantly before stepping aside to let you in. Her eyes searching yours for the pain she was quick to sense. "Whatever you need."

As you stepped into the refuge Mor offered you felt a slight unclenching in your chest. A small relief in the acceptance of a friend untouched by the deceit that had marred your trust in others. You hoped to find the space to heal. To gather the scattered pieces of your heart and perhaps, in time, to forgive. But for now, you simply needed the quiet understanding of someone who had been kept in the dark as much as you had.

Compounding your agony was the necessity to leave the Autumn Court where you had spent half your time with Lucien. You had to come home completely now, full-time to the Night Court. Each step away from the Autumn lands was a reminder of the isolation waiting for you back home. Away from the life and love you had known. The Night Court felt more oppressive than ever. It was supposed to be your sanctuary but now it only served as a cage. It was trapping you with your memories and your pain.

Despite the profound sense of betrayal and the sharp sting of heartache that pervaded your days you chose to stay because Velaris was still home. It was here among the winding streets, the starlit skies, and the vibrant buzz of the Night Court that you had grown, loved, and dreamed. Leaving would mean abandoning not just the place but the fragments of yourself that still clung to the hopes and dreams you’d nurtured here. The thought of leaving Azriel, the one constant who understood your pain without needing words, whose silent strength had become your sanctuary, felt like severing the last thread of stability you possessed. In the depths of your turmoil, Velaris, with all its darkness and lights, remained a place where healing seemed possible. Where the pieces of your broken heart might someday mend.

You withdrew into yourself. Your nights consumed by reckless escapades and endless drinking. You shunned daylight, avoided responsibilities, and ignored the worried glances of your friends. Azriel, who had always been a silent sentinel in your life watched from afar. His shadowed gaze filled with concern that you were too lost in your grief to notice.

This spiral of despair drew you deeper into the depths of the Night Court where you sought oblivion in the bottom of a glass. You hoped and prayed it might wash away the ache in your soul. Your heart felt like a hollow shell, beaten, and bruised by betrayal and loss. You had to wonder if you’d ever find your way back to the light.

As the days bled into nights your world narrowed to the dim corners of taverns and the bitter burn of liquor. Training sessions were skipped, duties neglected. Each glass raised was an attempt to erase the sting of wasted years. You had given a century of your life to Lucien, woven dreams and plans tightly around a love you believed was mutual. Only to find it undone by a destiny that held no space for you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that your love had been a placeholder until his true mate appeared.

You felt like a fool, a pawn in the grand scheme of their secrets and politics. This revelation forced you into isolation. You could hardly stand to look at the people that left you in the dark. Let alone speak to them. Only Mor and Azriel became your solace. Mor who had also been kept out of the loop shared in your feelings of betrayal understanding the deep cut of being excluded by those you loved. Azriel, too, had been kept in the dark, his complicated feelings for Elain used against him to justify the secrecy. You found it cruel. A manipulation of his unspoken affections that only deepened your trust in him, knowing that he, too, had been a victim of their concealments.

Azriel watched over you with a quiet intensity. His shadows whispering of your pain in ways words never could. He knew the depth of your heartbreak having borne his own silent loves and losses. From the shadowed corners of the room, he observed your self-destructive spiral with a growing sense of desperation. There was an understanding in his eyes, a shared recognition of love unreturned that made him reach out to you despite your withdrawal.

Your interactions with Azriel became the few moments of genuine connection in your days. He didn’t push you to speak or to return to the life you’d left behind. Instead, he simply shared your space. Offering you a silent solidarity. His presence was your calm. And in his eyes you found the empathy you’d been denied by so many others. Yet, even this comfort was tinged with the bitter knowledge that it was borne from shared pain. Something created from the fragments of your broken hearts.

On one particularly rough evening, feeling the dull ache of wine coursing through your veins, you sought the familiarity of the library. It was a place that once offered solace, but now it felt like navigating an once beloved yet distant landscape.

Staggering slightly, you found yourself pushing open the heavy door of the library. The scent of old books and ink momentarily grounding you. Inside Mor was tucked into her favorite nook surrounded by a mountain of scrolls and books. Her presence immediately brought a smile to your face and without hesitation you blurted out, "Mor! My girl, let's go to Rita's." Your voice wavered with a mixture of forced cheerfulness and palpable pain betraying your already intoxicated state.

As you made this impromptu invitation you were acutely aware of Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel gathered in a solemn cluster near the grand oak table that dominated the room. Their conversation was likely heavy with undisclosed burdens. They paused abruptly as they noticed your entrance. The library usually a sanctuary of whispered lore and hushed dialogues felt oppressively silent as their eyes fixed on you.

With a deliberate effort to mask your pain with a veneer of cheerfulness you ignored Rhys and Cassian completely. Instead directing your gaze to where Azriel stood, his figure cloaked in customary shadows. "Hi, Shadowsinger!" you exclaimed. Your tone lighter than your heart felt. It was easier to pretend. To keep up the facade of resilience than to acknowledge the jagged pieces of your heart.

Mor quickly stood, catching the tail end of your forced merriment. Her eyes flickered with a mix of concern and understanding. She exchanged a look with the others. Her expression pleading for them to somehow mend the chasm that had opened between you all. But when she saw you purposefully ignoring Rhys and Cassian, her shoulders slumped in resignation. Recognizing the depth of your pain and your current incapacity for forgiveness.

She packed up her belongings. Her movements deliberate. "You're going one way or another, aren't you?" she asked you. Her voice was filled with a sorrow that mirrored your own. It wasn't a question, but a statement. A knowing of the inevitable path the night would take.

"Yes. I need to not think… just for a little while," you replied. Your own smile faltering as the false cheer began to crumble under the weight of your true feelings.

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a glance with a mix of frustration and regret marring their features. They understood that their attempts at reconciliation would be futile this evening. Azriel stood silent and observant. He met your gaze with an intensity that spoke volumes. He nodded slightly. A promise that he would keep you safe even if from a distance.

Even as you grappled with your feelings of betrayal and heartache Azriel had already found it within himself to forgive Rhys and Cass for keeping the truth from both of you. His capacity for understanding their motives. Flawed as they were by their protective instincts, allowed him to see past the pain they had inadvertently caused. Azriel recognized that their actions stemmed from a deep-seated desire to shield both him and you from the inevitable pain of Lucien’s bond with Elain.

You, however, found forgiveness not so easily granted. Your feelings of betrayal were compounded by the thought that your closest friends had decided your fate without your input. Treating you more like a fragile object to be protected rather than a person capable of facing harsh truths. While Azriel had moved towards reconciliation you remained rightfully stubborn wrestling with a wound too fresh to close

With Mor in tow, you left the library. The heavy silence settling back among the shelves after your departure. Azriel followed discreetly. A shadow among shadows. His concern a tangible cloak around him as he watched you attempt to drown your sorrows under the guise of revelry at Rita’s. The night stretched before you. It was filled with the echoes of what could have been and the sharp sting of what was now your reality.

At Rita’s the ambiance had devolved into a haze for you. Each drink an attempt to erase the sharp edges of your reality. The buzz of the crowd and the clink of glasses were a distant backdrop to the storm raging inside you. As you reached for another glass your movements were sluggish and unfocused. A stranger slipped beside you, his smile too eager, his intentions unclear. He offered you a drink with a slick insistence that made your skin crawl even through the fog of alcohol.

The moment your fingers grazed the cool surface of the glass Azriel materialized at your side. His movements were a blur. The glass knocked from your grasp and shattering against the hard floor with a resounding crash that sliced through the bar's cacophony. "Enough, Y/N," his voice cut through your stunned silence, low and laced with an urgency that tightened his features.

"Why?!" The word tore from your throat, raw and loud, fueled by the sharp bite of alcohol and a torrent of pain you no longer had the strength to contain. "Why do you care? Just let me drown it all out, Az! Let me forget!" Your words were a mix of accusation and desperation spilling out in a reckless cascade.

Pain flickered across Azriel's face His eyes darkening with concern. "It’s not safe, Y/N. That drink. That male was trying to drug you. I can't—I won't let that happen,” he insisted. His voice firm despite the chaos around you.

Rebellion surged within you, potent and bitter. "Don't do this to me, Azzy!" The nickname was usually a term of endearment but now sounded like a rebuke, heavy with your anguish. "You can't save me from this. Let me have this!"

Your attempt to pull away was futile against his strength. Azriel’s eyes scanned the crowd one last time giving more a quick nod, his decision made in the span of a heartbeat when she nodded back. With no other choice as you continued to struggle against him he wrapped his arm securely around your waist and winnowed you both away, the world dissolving into shadows. You reappeared on a deserted hillside just outside the city. The sharp, cold air was a slap against your heated skin. The stark silence a jarring contrast to the noise of Rita’s.

“I can’t watch you destroy yourself, Y/N. I just can’t,” Azriel implored, his voice thick with emotion as he steadied your staggering form.

"Destroy myself?!" you screamed back. The frustration and hurt boiling over. Your hands balled into fists. Your entire body tense with pent-up emotion. "My life is already destroyed, Azriel! I've lost everything. My love, my dreams, my worth! What's there left to destroy?"

In your anguish you lashed out physically, pushing against Azriel's chest with all the force of your despair. He staggered slightly but didn't push back. He of all people understood your need to vent the storm of emotions inside you.

“You haven’t lost everything,” he tried to reassure you but even he knew where your head was at. You weren’t going to listen to him.

"I have!" Your voice broke, raw and quivering with the intensity of your pain. "For a century, I loved him, Az. A century! And for what? To be discarded when his real mate shows up? What does that make me? Just a placeholder? I'm worthless, Az. If he couldn't even love me, who will?"

"No, Y/N, that's not true—" Azriel began but you cut him off again. Your hands pushing against his shoulders trying futilely to move the immovable.

"No, you don't get it!" Tears streamed down your face blurring your vision as you swung a punch. Your fist connecting weakly with his chest. He absorbed the blow with practiced ease. His expression pained more by your words than the physical contact. "Everyone has someone… Feyre has Rhys, Elain has Lucien now... and me? I'm alone. Utterly alone. Who could love someone so... so replaceable?" Your words tumbled out as a cascade of hurt and insecurity forgetting in your pain that Azriel himself had known the sting of unreciprocated feelings.

Azriel caught your wrists gently, stopping your strikes. His gaze intense, a mix of pain and resolve flickering in his eyes. "Y/N, listen to me," he implored. His tone firm yet tender. "I understand more than you know. I've felt that loneliness. That fear of being unloved and replaceable. But you, Y/N, you are not replaceable to me. You’re invaluable. You’re loved deeply by those who truly know you, even if you can't see it right now."

Your resistance faltered with tears spilling over as his words washed over you revealing his own vulnerabilities. You sagged against him, your energy spent, your sobs muffled against his chest. Azriel didn’t just offer comfort. He shared your grief, understanding it from his own unspoken heartaches.

"Because you mean everything to me," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind. A confession laden with the weight of his own once-hidden feelings. "And I refuse to let you believe you're anything less than that." In his embrace you felt a sliver of solace pierce the veil of your despair. Perhaps you weren't as alone as you had believed. In the quiet of the night with Azriel, you dared to hope that your heart could find a way to mend.

As your sobs quieted into weary, shuddering breaths on the hillside, Azriel recognized the depth of your exhaustion and despair. With a care born of years spent navigating the shadows, he scooped you up into his arms. His strength a quiet reassurance in the enveloping darkness. You were too lost in your own misery to protest. Your body limp against his chest as he winnowed you both back to the sanctuary of his room.

Once inside Azriel carried you straight to the bathroom. The soft glow of candlelight casting gentle shadows across the walls. Setting you down with the utmost care he turned on the tap letting cool water fill the basin. With a tenderness that contrasted sharply with his usual stoicism, he soaked a soft cloth, wringing it out gently before turning to you.

"You're safe here, Y/N," he murmured. His voice low and soothing as he began to dab at your face. Each gentle touch wiped away streaks of makeup and tears revealing the raw vulnerability beneath. His hands were steady and careful. Moving with a respect that honored your brokenness without making you feel more fragile.

Seeing you so shattered, so utterly surrendered to your grief, stirred a protective tenderness in him. After he had cleaned your face he helped you out of your clothes and into his own. Each movement was respectful and patient. His eyes averted to give you privacy even in your despondent state. He chose a soft shirt and loose pants. Clothes that would comfort rather than constrict. When you were dressed he guided you to his bed with his arm around your waist both a support and a shield. The world seemed to quiet as he tucked you under the covers.

You lay there, a small, fragile form in the vastness of his bed with your eyes staring blankly at the shadowed ceiling. Azriel hesitated, watching you with a mix of concern and a poignant ache to ease your pain. Unable to bear the distance, he lay down beside you. His body a careful line of warmth at your side.

As you lay next to Azriel his presence enveloped you in a tenderness you hadn't fully seen before. The night around you was quiet, the only sound the gentle rustle of the wind outside and your own unsteady breaths. Azriel's room was usually a place of solitude and shadows. It felt different now. Warmer, filled with a quiet strength and a palpable gentleness that radiated from him.

"Let it all out, Y/N," he whispered next to you. His voice was a soft command in the darkness, soothing and deep. His hand found yours under the blankets, his fingers intertwining with yours. You felt a sob rise again. The emotions overwhelming.

He didn't shush you or tell you to be strong. Instead, he squeezed your hand tighter. His grip a lifeline in the turmoil you felt. His presence was a vow of steadfastness. A promise not spoken but felt deeply.

Lying beside him, you realized you had never seen Azriel so openly gentle and caring. His usual reserve and cool demeanor were replaced by an earnest tenderness. It was as if the night had peeled back a layer of his persona revealing the depth of his empathy and the true extent of his kindness. This wasn't the Spy Master known to most. The one that was cold and calculating, always in the background. This was Azriel as only someone he truly cared for might see him. His kindness wasn't just an act of comfort. It was a testament to his genuine concern for you. To love you when you felt most unlovable. To be there in every low and hold you through every shadow.

"I'm not going anywhere," Azriel continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "You are loved, deeply. Even when it feels like you're alone. You are important to me. More than you could possibly know."

With Azriel's words wrapping around you like a gentle embrace you allowed yourself to believe, if only for a moment, that you might one day feel whole again. His kindness, his unwavering support reminded you that even in your most broken moments you were not alone.

Azriel didn't rush you or demand that you compose yourself. Instead, he simply held your hand throughout letting the quiet solidarity of his presence anchor you back from the tempest of your grief. As the emotional exhaustion of the day's events caught up with you, your eyelids grew heavy with the weight of sleep tugging them down.

With Azriel's fingers interlaced with yours and his calm breathing next to you, a profound fatigue began to blanket your senses. It was the kind of tiredness that came from having wept thoroughly and being in the presence of someone who demanded nothing of you but to be yourself. Slowly, the room around you seemed to fade away as you drifted into sleep. The echoes of your turmoil quieting into silence under the protective watch of the Shadowsinger.

As the first rays of dawn began to filter through the curtains you stirred, slowly emerging from the restless grasp of sleep. Your body felt heavy. Each movement laden with the remnants of last night’s despair. As you shifted, trying to orient yourself, you realized you were entangled with Azriel. His arms loosely draped around you, his body a protective barrier against the chill of the morning.

Opening your eyes fully, you met his gaze—alert, intense, yet filled with a softness that was reserved only for moments like this. He had been watching you. His eyes tracing the lines of worry and sadness that had settled on your face even in sleep.

The memory of last night's breakdown. The raw pain, the tears, the desperate words, rushed back in vivid clarity. You were suddenly mortified. The intensity of your vulnerability making you feel exposed and small. You tried to pull away, intending to escape the intimacy and your own mortification. But Azriel’s arms tightened instead, gently but firmly keeping you in place. You faced him, cheeks burning, and your words stumbled out in a flustered rush.

"Az, I... I'm just so—sorry," you stammered as if the words tripping over each other. "For hitting you, and—everything. I wasn’t... I shouldn’t have..."

He was quiet for a moment. His gaze steady and understanding. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and calm, cutting through your babble of apologies with effortless precision. "No apologies," he said simply. His eyes locked on yours conveying depth beyond words. "It’s okay."

"But I lost control, and I—," you tried again. Your voice a tangled whisper of regret and embarrassment.

Azriel gently shushed you with a slight shake of his head. "You needed to let out," His tone left no room for argument. "I’m here. That’s what matters."

Your attempts to articulate the mess of emotions felt cumbersome and inadequate compared to his succinct reassurance. You swallowed hard. Your next breath shaky as you tried to reconcile the kindness in his actions with the turmoil you felt inside. The warmth of his embrace, the quiet strength in his few words, slowly coaxed the walls around your heart to lower. His acceptance was simple and unwavering. It granted you the space to be vulnerable without the burden of judgment.

"You're here," you spoke softly. A statement rather than a question. You allowed yourself to lean back against him, finding a measure of peace in the security his presence offered. In the quiet that followed his steady breathing became a reassuring rhythm in the soft light of dawn, anchoring you amidst the remnants of last night’s storm.

As you settled deeper into Azriel's embrace, comforted by the warmth of his body and the protective enclosure of his wings around you profound sense of security enveloped you. His wings isolated you from the chaos of the world and allowed the weight of your troubles to recede momentarily.

Within this intimate cocoon Azriel's hands gently soothed you, tracing calming patterns along your back and occasionally running his fingers through your hair easing away the knots of both stress and sadness. This gentle touch, combined with the protective embrace of his wings, invited a deeper relaxation and a fleeting peace.

"You're safe here," Azriel whispered. His voice a soft rumble that was both reassuring and grounding. "You will always be safe with me."

His words were simple yet deeply meaningful. They comforted you, encouraging a slow, steadying breath as each word seemed to ease a little more of your turmoil. Surrounded by his presence the room no longer felt like just a physical space but a sanctuary against all your fears and uncertainties.

As Azriel offered a rare comfort his mind was awash with thoughts and feelings for you. He had always admired your strength, your grace, and the kindness that seemed to illuminate your every action. Even when you were with Lucien he had noticed how your presence could soften the hardest of hearts and brighten the darkest corners. His feelings had been kept hidden. A secret shadowed beneath his stoic exterior as you had seemed unreachably intertwined with someone else.

Azriel's interest in Elain initially served as a safe distraction from confronting the deeper, more intense feelings he had for you. Now with the situation having changed and the possibility of being more than just friends emerging. He realized that his feelings for Elain had been a way to guard his heart against the more daunting prospect of a deeper connection with you. Recognizing this, Azriel was determined to be patient. He understood the importance of timing and your need to heal. He knew that any possibility of exploring something deeper with you would require careful consideration and respect for your emotional state. Thus, he was prepared to wait. He would offer his support and presence as you navigated your path to recovery, hoping that when you were ready, he might have a chance to express his true feelings.

In this quiet moment as dawn's light began to seep through the curtains, Azriel made a promise to himself for you. He would be there for you not just as a protector or a friend, but as someone who loved you deeply. Even if that love must remain unspoken for now. He would help you heal, support you in finding yourself again, and offer his love silently, unwaveringly, during the times you found it hardest to love yourself.

"Whatever comes next, I'm here. We'll face it together," he murmured. His voice a soft echo in the quiet room. This promise was not just a commitment to support you through your healing but a silent acknowledgment of his hopes for the future. A future where, when you were ready, he might share his heart openly with you. For now, though Azriel would be your steadfast shadow, a silent guard to you with a love profound yet patient. Waiting for the moment when your heart could welcome the depth of his.

As the morning stretched lazily into afternoon, the quietude of Azriel's room was punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of you resting against him. The previous turmoil had ebbed away leaving a calm that hadn't been felt in a long while. In this peaceful interlude you slipped back into a deep, restorative sleep, cradled by the warmth of Azriel and the secure embrace of his wings.

While you slept Azriel carefully extricated himself to prepare a simple yet thoughtful meal. He moved quietly, his shadows flitting about, almost as if they were checking on you. Ensuring that your slumber was undisturbed. He returned with a plate bearing a light lunch.

As the soft light of the afternoon filtered through the curtains you slowly awoke from the deep, restful sleep. You had been vaguely aware, even in slumber, of their comforting presence. Something that went beyond Azriel's physical proximity. It was his shadows, those silent watchers that typically hovered at the fringes, manifesting his will, and echoing his moods.

These shadows which normally adhered to Azriel’s strict commands with unwavering discipline, had over time, subtly changed their behavior around you. It started with small gestures—shifting slightly to cloak you in warmth when a cool draft swept through the room, or playfully fluttering around when your spirits were low, trying to elicit a smile. Gradually they had begun to act almost independently when it came to you. They were drawn to your innate warmth and light. The same qualities that Azriel himself cherished deeply in you.

As you stirred awake, stretching and yawning, the shadows seemed to mimic the morning’s embrace. Azriel watched from beside you with a slight smile playing on his lips as his shadows caressed your arms and legs. They were reluctant to withdraw their gentle touch even as you became more alert. He made a subtle gesture, a silent command for them to give you some space, expecting immediate compliance as always.

To his surprise and slight amusement, the shadows hesitated. They lingered around you. Their formless caresses a tender contradiction to their usual stark obedience. When you noticed their reluctance to leave you couldn’t help but to giggle. The shadows seemed to flutter with a visible delight, moving closer as if encouraged by your laughter.

"It’s okay, Az," you said. Smiling at the unusual scene. "I don't mind them, really. I actually quite like them."

At your words the shadows almost appeared to swoon, swirling around you with what could only be described as affectionate enthusiasm. Azriel watched this with a raised eyebrow and an ever-widening smile, clearly amused by their outright defiance when it came to you.

"They're not usually this defiant... or affectionate," Azriel remarked. His voice tinged with both bemusement and a hint of pride. "Seems they've taken quite a liking to you."

You watched the shadows swirl around with a playful grace. Their cool touch leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. Smiling, you responded, "The feeling's mutual." At your words, one of the shadows playfully swooped up mimicking a kiss on your cheek.

The whimsical gesture drew another giggle from you, a sound so light and joyful that it seemed to brighten the entire room. Azriel watched you with a deep warmth filling his heart as your laughter echoed softly. The sound so rarely heard in your despair was so full of life and free from the burdens you had been carrying, It was a melody he hadn't realized he'd been longing to hear. It reminded him of the resilience and beauty within you, qualities he had always admired now shimmering through even in your laughter.

Azriel’s gaze softened as he watched you interact with his shadows. The corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine delight. It was rare for him to see his shadows disobey but in this instance he found the situation endearing rather than concerning. The shadows, so attuned to his deepest feelings perhaps recognized the special place you held in his heart and chose to express their fondness in the only way they knew how.

As you continued to enjoy the playful affection from the shadows, Azriel leaned back, content to observe the bond forming between you and parts of his own essence. This moment, light-hearted and filled with laughter marked a significant turn in your relationship. It showed not only his own deepening feelings but also the unique acceptance of his shadows, making you a cherished presence in both his world and theirs.

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greensagephase · 3 days

Text

What If...?

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: It’s Mother’s Day and Miguel celebrates you, the mother of his son. He asks you something at the end of the day. What if… Word Count: 7.2k Warnings: pre-established relationship; reader is married to Miguel; parents of a three year old; mention of not taking birth control; unprotected sex; wrap it before you ride it, or however the saying goes; oral sex, female receiving; p in v; soft Miguel; Masterlist MINORS PLS DO NOT READ Happy Mother's Day to anyone reading this who's a mom! You guys are amazing 🥺

When you met Miguel many years ago, it became clear to you that Miguel was the kind of man you wanted in your life - the kind of man you wanted to marry.

He was sweet, gentle, and loving - traits he holds to this day. He wasn’t like other men who were simply trying to get one thing out of you, or the kind of man that was looking for a wife to turn her into his personal maid, or something of the sort.

No, Miguel has always been a sweet and kind man, so loving. He’s not afraid to show and tell you about his feelings. He makes them known, ever since the very beginning. He remembers every single special date, buys you flowers once a week, sometimes twice, even when there’s no special occasion, and he treats you like a goddess.

He remembers your birthday and plans weeks in advance for it, whether his plans are big with a party with all your friends and family, or if it’s private with him and now Gabriel, he always does something for you.

You are his everything.

So, when he asked you to marry him a several years ago after some time of dating, you accepted, knowing you were marrying the right man for you.

Glancing around your shared bedroom in your home, you see signs of a life built together. There are photographs around the bedroom and other parts of the home. There’s his and your clothes in the same closet. There’s his wedding ring next to yours on the dresser, the ones you’ll both soon put on before heading out for the day, since you’re certain Miguel has plans. Such simple things, really, but signs that you’re together, building a life.

But the biggest testament of your commitment, affection, and love for each other is not an object. He’s somewhere near Miguel now, with his little arms reaching to touch things out of curiosity and a head of beautiful brown hair like his father’s.

Gabrielito, your son.

You smile at the thought of your child now, already three years old. Your little Gabrielito, the one that calls you “mama” and seeks your arms like it’s his safe haven.

You turn to the clock on your nightstand. It’s 9am on Mother’s Day. Miguel’s side of the bed is empty and upon tracing your fingers over it, you know he’s been up for some time because the sheets lack his heavenly body warmth.

Knowing what’s coming, you play your part, happily. You go to your shared bathroom and do your morning routine as if nothing before you return to the bedroom. Your eyes lit up as you find them, sitting on the bed waiting for you.

It’s a sight you’ll never tire of. There’s Miguel sitting on the bed and Gabrielito in one of his big arms keeping him still. In the other hand, a bouquet of fresh flowers greets you. To the side, there’s a tray with homemade breakfast. Miguel smiles at you and stands up, greeting you.

“Feliz día de las Madres, mi amor [Happy Mother's day, my love],” he says as he hands you the flowers.

“Mama, Happy Mother’s - Day!” Gabrielito says reaching for you immediately, eliciting a chuckle from you.

“Aww, thank you, thank you, baby,” you reply to your son, your heartstrings pulled.

You accept the flowers and your child before Miguel wraps his arms around you and Gabrielito.

“Happy Mother’s day, baby,” he says again softly, caressing your body with tenderness. “I hope you have a wonderful day.”

“Thank you, corazón [heart]. I’m already having a great one with this lovely surprise. My two favorite people,” you say snuggling both Miguel and your son, who’s all too happy to be in this group hug with his parents. Embraced in Miguel’s arms, you stay like that for a few seconds, simply enjoying the moment until Miguel gently pulls back, brushing a piece of hair away from your face.

“Gabrielito and I cooked your favorite breakfast, let’s eat so it doesn’t get cold,” he says pulling you to the bed. “Get back in bed, so it can be a proper breakfast in bed.” Miguel grins as he helps you in bed while you’re still holding your son and fixes the tray with food. Once everything is settled, he takes Gabriel from your arms. “So you can eat comfortably with free arms,” he says, something Miguel always does. He always makes sure to hold Gabriel when you eat so you can eat comfortably, unless you tell him that you want to keep holding him.

As a little family, you begin to eat. You smile as you watch Miguel feed Gabi some fruit, always so gentle with his son. He smiles at you once he notices you staring at him before he picks another piece of fruit and offers it to you, bringing his hand close to your face to mouth feed you, too. “Your favorite,” he murmurs sweetly before you accept it, feeling thankful for this.

You have a lovely husband and a beautiful child, your little family. You finish having breakfast as a family, talking with Miguel about random things and at some points laughing at the little things you son does and says, finding it endearing.

You start helping Miguel put things away but he immediately asks you not to. “No, no. I got this, mi amor [my love]. Don’t worry about it.”

You frown softly. “Okay, fine. Here I can hold Gabi then.”

“Thank you, preciosa [lovely, pretty], but no. Don’t worry. I can carry our little one and the tray just fine. Why don’t you get ready for the day? Maybe something comes up later on,” he says giving you a teasing smile.

“Hmm, you think so?” you ask him, having a feeling that Miguel has something planned like always.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he says stepping closer and giving you a kiss on the lips. “Take your time, mi amor [my love]. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

With a smile, you watch him leave, carrying the tray and your son as he lovingly talks to Gabriel about breakfast. You sigh softly before you hop in the shower. When you come out, you find the bed made for the day and little things that were out of their place back organized and stored away. It seems Miguel finished in the kitchen and came back to do these things so you wouldn’t worry about it.

That’s another thing about Miguel. He never shies away from household chores or taking care of his own child. He’s not like other men that expect their partner to do all household chores, or who see looking after their children as “babysitting.”

Miguel is a provider, both financially and emotionally for Gabrielito and you, his happiness and weaknesses.

As you grab something from your dresser, you also notice Miguel’s wedding band is gone, probably on his finger already.

You do your skincare, makeup, and hair before you get dressed up in pretty clothes to go out. To finish, you add your favorite perfume and pieces of jewelry, your wedding ring being one of them. A while later, you leave your bedroom and find Miguel and Gabriel in the living room. Both are already dressed to go out and as you approach them, you see Miguel fixing one of Gabi’s shoes.

“Like that?” Gabi asks with wonder as he watches Miguel tie his shoe.

“Like… that. There, mijo [my son combo word], all done,” Miguel says softly before he spots you. He flashes you a smile as his eyes take you in, all dressed up and ready. “Bella como siempre, mi vida [beautiful as always, my life].”

You smile and do a little bit of a pose. “Yeah? Is my outfit appropriate for the occasion?” you ask.

“Definitely,” Miguel answers quickly as he picks up Gabi and stands up. “Beautiful.”

Before you know it, the three of you are in the family vehicle with Miguel driving. He holds your hand the entire time, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you talk, sometimes playing with your wedding ring, a physical reminder that you’re his wife.

You reach your destination in no time. It turns out Miguel’s plan involves a flower festival, where you spend some time. The three of you appreciate the sight of blooming flowers, just perfect for May. You walk as a family, allowing Gabriel to walk and explore since he’s in a phase of curiosity. By the end of it, Miguel has bought you another bouquet of flowers along with flowers for your garden, keeping up with a tradition he started for your first Mother’s Day. This will be the fourth year now and because of the love and care both Miguel and you provide to your garden, they always come back for the season.

You leave the festival close to lunch time and once in the vehicle, you wonder what’s next in Miguel’s plans, especially when he drives off in another direction, away from your home. He says nothing about where he’s taking you as he makes conversation about the flowers and how Gabriel seemed fascinated by everything. He kisses the back of your hand as you realize where you’re heading and a few moments later, Miguel pulls into the parking lot of your favorite restaurant. Miguel opens your door once parked, always the gentleman, and takes care of unbuckling Gabriel from his car seat before the two of you walk inside, Gabriel in Miguel’s arm as he holds your hand with his free one.

The three of you enter the establishment where Miguel talks to a waiter about his reservation. After ordering, you can’t help but stare at Miguel as he gives Gabriel a sip of water, making sure to keep his top dry. The sight makes you smile and think about Miguel and what a wonderful father he is. He’s always wanted children, something he made known to you early on in your relationship to see what your thoughts were on the matter. You remember telling him that you’d like to one day, maybe two, or three, something Miguel appreciated. You recall when you finally started having serious discussions about it once you were married. Before that point you both agreed you wanted to start a family together but that you wanted to enjoy at least a year or two of your marriage as a couple alone. Eventually, the serious discussions came up and before either of you knew it, you were in the hospital with your firstborn in your arms.

You both agreed that Gabriel wouldn’t be the last, that you’d like to try for another child in a few years. Looking at Miguel and Gabrielito now, you think about a second child. Maybe in the near future, if Miguel is ready for it.

Your thoughts are interrupted when the food is brought to the table, a reminder for you to focus on the present and cherish what you have now: this little family of yours.

Together, Miguel and you have lunch, assisting Gabriel when he needs help. You all happily eat and enjoy the meal, making conversation with both your husband and son.

You take a sip from your drink by the end of your meal, feeling loved and cared for since Miguel knows you love this restaurant. You look around for a few seconds, noticing that today it’s more packed than usual with it being Mother’s Day. When you glance back at Miguel and Gabriel, you find Miguel with a smile and a small gift bag. You raise an eyebrow and Miguel chuckles.

“Surely you didn’t think a flower festival and lunch at your favorite place were the only surprises?”

“Don’t forget breakfast in bed with my favorite people in the world,” you say softly.

“That, too, but even then, it’s never enough. It’ll never be,” Miguel says. “I wish I could give you the world.”

You smile and lean forward, placing a hand over his free one. “You have. I have you and Gabriel. You’re both my world.”

Smiling, Miguel gazes at you with a look of devotion and affection. “You and him are my world, too, mi vida [my life]. You are everything to me,” he says, gently pulling his hand out from beneath yours to take in his fingers. He gives it a gentle squeeze before leaning forward and kissing the back of it. “Te amo, mi amor [I love you, my love]. Happy Mother’s Day,” he says sweetly with a smile as he offers the gift bag.

You beam at him. “I love you, too, corazón [heart],” you reply back to him before you accept his gift bag.

“Open it! Gabriel helped me choose it,” Miguel says, causing you to chuckle.

You cup your Gabriel’s face, who seems a bit sleepy now. “Did you help daddy choose the gift?” you ask softly and of course, he nods and offers you a sleepy smile, replying back with a short string of words.

“Yeah! I helped daddy, mama.”

“Aren’t you two the sweetest,” you respond giving his cheek a gentle squeeze.

“Open, mama!” Gabriel replies, causing Miguel and you to laugh softly.

“Alright, alright! I’ll get it open, hold on.” You pull away the tissue paper and reach inside the gift bag, finding a box that matches with those of jewelry. Your eyes go to Miguel, who watches you expectantly. You take it out and place the gift bag away before focusing on the box. It’s definitely a jewelry box. You smile and open it gently, revealing a jewelry set you know cost a lot of money right away. Not only is it a three piece set with a necklace, bracelet, and set of earrings but the kind of jewelry itself confirms your suspicion. It seems Miguel, as always, didn’t mind spending money on you.

You trace the necklace softly and smile wider. He definitely knows your taste, too. “It’s so beautiful… So beautiful, thank you,” you say looking up at Miguel. “Thank you for the beautiful gift, corazón [heart]. I love it!”

You reach for Miguel’s hand and he immediately accepts it as Gabi cheers with his hands, happy that you have a positive reaction, it seems.

“I’m so happy you love it, baby. Something for our date nights,” he says with a smile.

You grin at him and nod, this is definitely something for a date night with your husband. “I’ll wear it next time.”

He smiles brightly at you. “I can’t wait to see you wearing it in a few days,” he replies, knowing you always have one date night a week, something Miguel really wanted to keep up even after having Gabriel so he can spoil you.

You laugh softly. “I’ll wear it without failure, I promise.”

You soon pack up your few things, ready to leave the restaurant.

As you exit the building, Miguel looks down at you. “I planned those little things for you, mi amor [my love], but I left the rest of the day free so you can decide what you’d like to do. Do you want to go somewhere? Do something specifically?” he asks sweetly.

You sigh softly as you gaze at Miguel, finding it endearing that he left the rest of the day free for you to choose how you want to spend it. “Honestly? I want to go to our home and chill with you and our little baby,” you say softly with a smile as you glance at Gabrielito, his pretty brown eyes heavy with sleep, no doubt ready for a nap. “Gabrielito looks like he could use a nap, and me, too.”

Miguel laughs softly at that and squeezes your hand as you both walk back to your vehicle. “I could use one, too, honestly. So, I guess we’re having a family nap then and afterwards, I’m cooking dinner for the most beautiful mama in the world,” he says with a cheeky smile at you.

Later that night - many hours later after taking a family nap, Miguel cooking your favorite dish for dinner, and spending family time - Miguel steps out of the bathroom wearing nothing but boxers after brushing his teeth. His eyes find you on your shared bed, already in your pajamas wearing matching shorts and a top, looking beautiful as always as you read a book. Gabrielito has already been asleep for an hour, exhausted from the day’s events despite his nap earlier.

Miguel glances at the baby monitor regardless, confirming Gabriel is fast asleep, which means you have the rest of the night for each other. He slips into bed next to you, seeking your warmth. He wraps an arm around you, holding you close to him, his need satisfied. Besides that, he does nothing else in order to avoid disturbing your reading time, respecting your time to unwind.

After some time, you put your book away and snuggle closer to your husband, his warmth calling you. Miguel’s arm tightens around you and he begins to pepper your face with sweet kisses, unable to stop himself from showering you with love and affection now that you’re done reading.

“Gracias, mi amor [thank you, my love],” he whispers.

“For what, corazón [heart]?” you ask as he keeps kissing your face like he needs to to keep breathing.

“For marrying me.” He kisses your cheek. “For accepting me as your husband.” Kiss. “For making me so happy, and letting me make you happy.” Kiss on your forehead. “For giving us a beautiful child, for choosing me to start a family with.” Miguel pulls you closer, if that’s even possible, and kisses your lips lovingly while his fingers trace your skin delicately, knowing your skin better than his own.

He pulls back gently and stares into your eyes, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His gaze is filled with nothing but love and adoration for the love of his life - for his beautiful and sweet wife, the mother of his child.

He smiles before he starts with the kisses again, this time moving from your face to your neck, giving you attention there, too. Your scent surrounds him as his lips move across your skin, leaving tingles in their wake. A whimper escapes from your lips as you feel his teeth softly graze your skin, a sound that excites Miguel.

In the blink of an eye, Miguel is on top of you. He peppers your skin and collarbone with kisses but he doesn’t stop there this time. He lifts your top gently and reveals your tummy. He starts kissing you there, too, remembering how he used to kiss your tummy when you were pregnant. It wasn’t anything new though since Miguel has always kissed your body, wanting you to feel loved by him, to know that you’re perfect to him. However, he remembers kissing your tummy especially those days and how Gabriel would start kicking in response. The memory makes him smile as he looks up at you.

“Remember how I kissed your tummy when you were pregnant? And how our little one always kicked back?”

“He always liked it when you kissed my tummy. And he loved hearing your voice. Still does,” you reply softly, reaching with a hand to caress his face, which makes Miguel lean into your touch. He smiles.

“I can’t believe he’s three now. We’ve been parents for three years.” He leans down and kisses your tummy again. “I remember it like it was just yesterday, when we discussed starting a family at last and of course, the actual process,” Miguel says looking up at you with a certain look. It’s one that sends a heat straight to your core.

You stare back at him shyly, chuckling. “I do, too,” you reply.

“And remember how we said we’d like more after Gabrielito?” he asks as he peppers your skin with kisses again, moving upwards.

“Ye-yeah,” you say, finding it harder and harder to concentrate as his lips touch your skin and move up. You close your eyes and enjoy his warm breath and lips on you, feeling your body react to him.

“It’s been three years, mi amor [my love]. Three years since you became a mom,” he says, lifting your shirt higher up, revealing your bare chest. “A mom of one. I was thinking…”

Your breath hitches as you feel his mouth wrap around your sensitive nipple, sucking on it gently. “Miguel,” you breath out. “What - what were you thinking about?” You ask even though you have an idea of what he’s been thinking about. Miguel releases your nipple with a loud pop.

“What if we give Gabrielito a little sibling?” he asks, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over your pajama shorts, on your thigh. “What if I make you a mom of two?” His fingers move to your inner thighs. “What if… you make me a daddy of two?” This time his fingers trace your clothed pussy.

You whimper lowly, feeling the light pressure of his fingers over your core. You try to calm yourself down and breath out gently. “Another baby?” you ask, opening your eyes to meet his.

Miguel nods, moving his fingers gently, feeling your slit even through your pajama shorts and panties. “Another baby. Maybe a little girl, so we can have the pair. A boy and a girl,” Miguel says leaning closer to kiss your lips. “We did say we wanted another one later on, remember?” he whispers, his fingers still moving gently.

“We did,” you reply moving your hand to wrap around his wrist, the one between your thighs. “But are we sure now is the right time? Are you sure?” you ask him softly, wanting to make sure this isn’t a decision made in the heat of the moment, especially when you remember something. “I…” you trail off, something Miguel notices.

“What’s wrong, mi vida [my life]?”

“The thing is… I haven't taken my birth control. It’s slipped my mind the last few days, so if we - you know - tonight, then there’s a chance I might get pregnant.”

Miguel nods, understanding. The last few days have been a little busy, so he doesn’t blame you for forgetting and besides, you’re always careful about it. He moves his hand to your calf and gently caresses it, trying to ease any worries you may have as he thinks about his words. He’ll never push you to do something you don’t want to, and he doesn’t want you to think you have no choice just because it’s something he wishes for.

“I personally… Would love for us to have another child. To be honest, I’d love for us to have three but I know it’s not my body carrying a child for months. I know it’s your body doing so much work, even if people say it’s built for it, no one should deny that it takes a toll on a woman’s body. What I’m trying to say is, that at the end of the day it’s your choice, mi amor [my love]. If you do want another one later on, we can talk about it when you’re ready. I don’t want you to feel pressured, okay? I was just… Thinking about it,” Miguel says softly, leaning down to kiss your lips. “It’s Mother’s Day, so I was reminded of when you were pregnant and our wish for another kid, but we can talk later. I can wear protection and that’s if you’re okay with us making love, if not, then we can go to sleep.” Miguel kisses your forehead gently and cups your face to reassure you. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

You smile up at him, your heart swelling with love for Miguel being so respectful of your boundaries. You bring his face down and kiss his lips for a few seconds before you answer.

“I would like for us to try for another baby,” you whisper against his lips.

Miguel lifts his head, his eyes scanning your face to make sure you’re being honest and not saying that out of pressure. You smile warmly at him and nod.

“I’m serious. I was thinking about it at lunch, about a second child. I would love for us to be a family of four.”

Miguel smiles at that comment and you swear his eyes lit up. “A family of four,” Miguel repeats, still smiling. “I hope one day we can make it happen.”

“We can start trying now… if you’d like,” you whisper as you lift a hand to Miguel’s chest. You caress his upper chest before you drag your fingertips down his torso noticing the way his breath hitches once you reach his happy trail. You grin to yourself before you take a glance at his thighs. You can see the large bulge in his boxers, begging for attention and release. Your fingertips trace lower, going over his boxers’ waistband before you gently brush two fingers where his tip is, eliciting a low grunt from your husband. A wet spot appears a second later.

He takes your hand and gently moves it away. He brings it up to his mouth and kisses the back of it before he looks at you. “Are you sure? I need you to know that we don’t need to do this right now. We can wait if you’re not ready.”

“I’m ready,” you say, reassuring him.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you, mi amor [my love],” Miguel says softly.

“I want this. I want our family to grow, too. Please,” you say gently, using your free hand to pull him down. He accepts and lowers himself, his face inches from yours. You kiss him on the mouth again, this time in a more needy way, even brushing your tongue over his bottom lip. Miguel groans gently and immediately opens his mouth to welcome your tongue. You kiss for a while, your tongues playing with each other as your hands explore each other’s bodies.

Growing more aroused by the second, you pull back gently. “I need you,” you whisper against his lips.

Those three words are all Miguel needs to hear. He leans down and kisses you again, his mouth needy and desperate for more of your lips as his hands tug your shorts and panties off as much as he can before he breaks the kiss to accomplish the task. As he does that, you take the time to remove your shirt, throwing it aside. In a second, Miguel is over you again. He kisses you on the lips once again before he starts a long trail of kisses starting from your neck and moving downwards.

He kisses your collarbone and then between your breasts where he takes a moment to tease your hardened nipples with his mouth. He sucks on one while his fingers gently pinch and twist the other one, eliciting the sweetest whimpers from you. He grins as he switches, more than satisfied with your reaction. When he’s done, he plants a soft kiss between your breasts again, taking the moment to smell your beautiful scent.

“You’re so beautiful,” Miguel says, looking up at you as he kisses that spot once again. “So beautiful, mi amor [my love].”

You breath out a “thank you” before his lips find their way again. You can only lay back and feel your body react to Miguel’s ministrations as he peppers your tummy once more with kisses, taking his sweet time when he knows where you want him.

“Miggy,” you whine.

“What is it?” he asks as he grips your hips and continues planting soft kisses all over, knowing what you want - what you need.

“You know what.”

“Hm...? Do I?” he asks, grinning to himself as he moves back to begin the same process on your thighs now, slowing making his way to your inner thighs. “What do you need, mi amor [my love]?”

You moan softly, spreading your thighs apart slightly as you feel his mouth moving closer. “I need you.”

“Need me to do what?” he asks before he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, and just to further tease you, he drags his tongue over the area.

You gasp and reach with your hand for his hair. “Need your mouth there.”

“Where is there?”

You whine again, realizing he’s really going to make you beg for it. “Need your mouth… on me. Need your mouth on my pussy,” you finally say, your cheeks feeling hot.

“Ah,” Miguel says softly, feeling a great satisfaction. “You should’ve said that from the start.”

“You knew from the start where-” you begin but stop when you feel Miguel’s hands spread your thighs apart, exposing you to him.

It only takes Miguel a second to see how wet you are - how ready you are for him. A second later, his tongue darts out and licks up your slit, collecting your arousal. He groans against your pussy lips, your taste driving him crazy as always.

You moan loudly as you feel his tongue expertly move around, teasing your clit with no mercy. You reach for his hair again, something you gave up on earlier, and this time grip it gently as a way to ensure that he won’t try to tease you by pulling back. You need this, need him.

Miguel moves closer, pushing his face into you, his tongue greedy for more of your taste. He wants to taste you every second, doesn’t want any of your arousal to go to waste. He hungrily laps at your pussy, spreading it gently to dive deeper as your sweet moans of pleasure fill your shared bedroom.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Miguel says before he sucks on your clit, causing you to push your pelvis into his face with a loud moan. “So hungry,” Miguel says, noticing the way your hole is fluttering around nothing, already wanting his cock.

“Miguel, please,” you say in that voice that’d make Miguel drop to his knees if he wasn’t so busy eating you out.

“What is it, amor [love]?” he asks raising his head to meet your gaze.

“Need you… I need you inside me,” you say, eyebrows knitted.

Miguel frowns softly. “I wanted to give you an orgasm from this alone, baby.”

“I - I know you always want to make give me more than one orgasm but… I need you now. Need you inside me. Please?” you ask so softly, so tenderly.

Miguel nods. “Your wish is my command.” With that, Miguel lowers his face to swipe his tongue over your slit one more time, groaning softly once again at your taste. “Always taste so good,” he murmurs pressing a damp kiss to your inner thigh before he pulls back. He gets off the bed and takes off his boxers at last, releasing his heavy, hardened cock.

The sight of it makes you press your thighs closer, already anticipating the delicious stretch Miguel gives you. You swallow deeply as you watch Miguel get back on the bed before he gives his cock a tug, precum oozing from his tip. His eyes find yours as he scoots closer to you. He takes your legs and still holding your gaze, asks once again, “Are you sure, mi vida [my life]?”

You immediately nod. “Yes, I’m sure. I want this, Miguel. I want us to have another baby.”

Miguel smiles at that, letting go of one of your legs to support himself before lowering his head. He kisses you tenderly on the lips. “I want another baby with you, too, preciosa [lovely, pretty]. Another beautiful baby that’s half you, half me,” he says against your lips before he kisses you again as he moves closer.

You part your thighs before you feel Miguel raise your legs, bringing you both to a position in which the back of your thighs are now over his own, resting comfortably. As Miguel bites down on your bottom lip, you feel his lower body move and a second later, his cock rubs against your folds causing you whimper into his mouth. He smiles as he rubs his tip over your entrance more, coating himself in your arousal. He hears your breathing grow heavier before he reaches with a hand and aligns himself, finally entering you.

You both moan as he sinks into your sweet heat at last, your walls stretching to his size. Miguel closes his eyes as he sinks lower and lower, feeling how wet you are.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers opening his eyes to look down at you. His lips part at the beautiful sight even though he’s seen it so many times. He thinks about how he’d draw your beautiful face from memory if he had the skill. He’d draw the way your lips are parted now and your knitted eyebrows as you get used to his size. He’d draw your hair and how it lays beneath your head as you rest on your shared bed, so beautiful. He’d draw your eyes, half-lidded and hazy for him. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as he buries himself to the hilt, his voice full of love.

You give him a smile, one that makes Miguel want to melt at the sight of. You’re so sweet, so lovely, so beautiful, and he has no idea how he ended up finding you. He can’t help himself from giving gratitude to every divine entity there is for allowing your paths to cross and for him to become your husband and father of your child.

He smiles back at you and lowers himself to kiss your lips. His kiss is sweet and tender as he slowly begins to moves his hips, sliding his cock in and out of you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back with the same tenderness. Soft moans and whimpers escape your lips as Miguel continues to thrust into you.

“It feels so good,” you whisper against his lips.

“I know, mi amor [my love],” Miguel whispers back before he moves his face to your neck to give you attention there. His teeth sink into your flesh gently, sucking on it before he drags his tongue over the area. Beneath him, you tremble in pleasure. “Gonna make you feel even better, I promise,” he murmurs against your neck as his thrusts gain speed.

“Mig- Miguel,” you moan, dragging your nails down his back.

“God - don’t do that or I won’t be able to stop,” Miguel says groaning, pressing his nose to your skin, his eyes shut close. “You know how much I love feeling your fingernails on my back.”

You can only nod, knowing this fact very well. Miguel has many weaknesses when it comes to you and one of them are your nails on his back. He loves having nail scratches all over it, loves the feeling of your fingers digging into his skin when you’re making love.

Knowing this, you do it again.

Miguel groans loudly in your ear at your action. This time, he says nothing about it, at least not verbally, but he does respond by thrusting harder and faster into your pussy. He groans again as he hears the loud and wet plap plap plap and the sound of skin against skin. He reaches with a hand and begins to rub his thumb over your clit in a circular motion, making you moan and squirm beneath him in response.

“Mi- ah - Miguel!” you cry out in pleasure, bucking your hips into him.

“You love that so much, don’t you?” Miguel whispers as he keeps sliding his cock in and out of you. He looks down at where you’re both connected, seeing his cock disappear inside you and a white ring of both your liquids around the base of his member. The sight encourages him to rub his thumb faster over your clit.

“Oh God,” you say, arching your back, feeling like you’ll be climaxing soon. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

“Not stopping any time soon, hermosa. Not until you cum around my cock,” Miguel replies leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks on it hungrily, yet gently, as his hips meet yours deliciously. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, over and over again, before he allows his teeth to graze it, eliciting a loud whimper from your throat. Miguel releases it with a loud pop before he pushes himself back and grips your hips, feeling his climax rapidly approaching.

Upon opening your eyes, you can see your nipple glistening with his saliva just as Miguel begins to pound much faster and harder into you. You grip the sheets beneath him, feeling your walls clench around his cock. He raises your thighs, allowing him to bury himself deeper. With the new alignment, you feel his large tip hit that spot that makes you see stars and forget what your name even is.

“Fuck - you feel so good,” Miguel says with a groan. His eyes roll back as he speeds up, feeling your walls squeezing him, wanting to milk him already. “Gonna. Put. Another. Baby. In. You.” Miguel says, enunciating each word with a thrust. “Gonna make you a mommy of two.”

Arching your back, you nod. “Ye-yes, another baby. Please, Miggy - don’t stop! I’m so - close,” you say breathing heavily as Miguel keeps thrusting, stretching your pussy and filling it just how you like it.

“I’m close, too,” Miguel manages to say as he adds more force to his movements. He raises your legs higher and wrap them around his waist. A moment later, he feels you squeeze them around him, as if wanting to prevent him from breaking away from you, something that’s not happening as Miguel is too lost in the ecstasy. He grunts in pleasure with each thrust, his desire only growing with each needy whimper and moan from your lips - music to his ears.

You moan beneath Miguel as you feel your climax coming. “I’m gonna cum,” you tell Miguel squeezing your legs around him even tighter.

“Fuc- I can feel your walls squeezing me harder,” Miguel responds, stating the truth. Your walls are squeezing him harder than before, pushing him to the edge. He feels your walls begin to convulse around him, milking him before he’s even climaxed.

A few seconds later, you scream his name as you reach your climax, arching your back and trembling beneath Miguel as he keeps pounding into your soaking pussy. The sight of you reaching your blissful state is the final push for Miguel. He feels his cock twitch once, twice before he shoots his load into your eager and hungry pussy with a loud moan that fills the bedroom.

“God - yes,” you whimper as you feel him cumming, filling your pussy with his hot seed.

“Yes, yes,” Miguel says, groaning as he keeps moving his hips, slowly losing speed as he keeps cumming, feeling the way your pussy is milking him dry as always. “Dios,” he grunts as he buries his cock deep inside you before lowering himself, having no plans to pull out any time soon. He rests over your trembling body and kisses your forehead as you both come down from your highs. He kisses your cheeks next, making it a point to kiss everywhere on your face before kissing your lips lovingly. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers against your lips, his hand cupping your cheek. His eyes take in your face in the aftermath of your love making, loving the glow you always get afterwards.

You sigh softly into his touch, into his lips, and slide your hands down his back, caressing it. You’re both in a state of bliss in each other’s arms. You kiss his mouth, taking your time to savor Miguel’s lips. For a few minutes, you lay like that, simply embracing and kissing each other, still connected.

At last, Miguel slowly pulls himself off you. You both know Miguel took his time in order to keep his cum inside for a while, in hopes to conceive soon. He pulls out slowly and rests on his knees, watching between your thighs as his semen slowly spills out, coating your outer pussy, with love. At the sight, Miguel sighs softly before he leans down and kisses your inner thighs.

“I’ll get you cleaned up,” he murmurs gently against your skin before he stands up. In the bathroom, he quickly cleans himself up, not wasting a second longer before he returns to the bed with two damp and warm towels. He finds your thighs closed, so he looks at you, silently asking for permission as he reaches for them.

You smile in amusement, at the fact that your husband is asking for permission when he was inside you not even two minutes ago. Nonetheless, you nod and Miguel, at last, spreads your thighs gently before he tenderly cleans you up, making sure to be thorough so you feel no discomfort of any kind.

Once satisfied, Miguel disposes of the towels and quickly puts on a clean set of boxers. He finds you another clean set of panties along with a clean set of pajamas. Despite telling him you don’t need help, Miguel assists you in putting your panties on, crouching and helping you slide them on before he does the same with the shorts. He hands you the shirt and watches you put it on before he picks you up in his arms.

“What are you doing?” you ask amused.

“Carrying my wife to bed,” Miguel replies.

“The bed is like three feet away,” you respond as Miguel takes those short steps. He lowers you onto your side of the bed with gentleness.

“Shh, let me just spoil you,” he says quietly with a smile as he pulls the covers over you before he joins you in bed.

As soon he settles down, you make a move to snuggle against him. He sighs and immediately accepts, as if he’s missed you in his arms for a long time, even though you were just in them not even a minute ago. He wraps his arms around you protectively, your head on his chest. You sink into his warmth, let it embrace you.

After the wonderful day of surprises and now the intense love making, you begin to feel tired. You gingerly touch Miguel’s skin, your fingertips soft and light as you both lay in bed, happy to be in each other’s presence. You start thinking about the fact that Miguel and you are now trying for a second baby. It’s too early, but you silently hope that by Father’s Day, maybe you can give Miguel a little surprise - a sign that you’re already pregnant. You sigh softly and snuggle closer to your husband just as he rubs your back gently. He leans down and kisses the top of your head.

“Happy Mother’s Day, mi vida [my life],” he whispers as he feels you drift off.

A/N: Want to build a family with Miguel so badly, it's not a joke! 😩 Thank you for reading!!

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slu7formen · 2 days

Note

Luke Castellan request here! When reader, who loves fashion, asks her boyfriend to come to her cabin so she can model for him but instead of the usual dresses or skirts, it's lingerie 🤭

girl you filfthy

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: dom but lovesick luke, spanking (literally once), mention of oral s3x, p in v, teasing, finger sucking

₊˚⊹♡

You gnawed on your thumbnail, a nervous but thrilling energy buzzing through you like a live wire. You occasionally looked out the window, waiting for your boyfriend to show up, and after what felt like an eternity, a knock on the door shattered the silence. You practically flung the door open, a wide smile plastered across your face.

There stood Luke, your boyfriend, framed by the golden afternoon light. His initial smile faltered when he saw you, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Hey, love" he greeted, his voice laced with concern. "What's with the coat? It´s like a hundred degrees outside"

"Oh, this?" you quipped, playfully kicking your foot out behind you. "This is just part of the surprise." Your voice held a teasing tone, causing a small laugh from your boyfriend.

Luke didn´t question it. He knew how much you adored fashion, your passion fueled partly by your heritage as Aphrodite's daughter. Your surprise fashion shows every couple weeks, held in the privacy of your cabin, were a regular occurrence in your relationship.

And you just loved the attention he´d give you. The joy on his face, the raw desire in his eyes when he saw you in those outfits, fueled your passion even further. This time, however, you had something different planned. Something you haven´t tried before.

You grabbed his hand. "Come on" you chirped excitedly, pulling him inside with you as you closed the door.

Walking towards the bed, you gestured for Luke to sit comfortably. With a sigh, he sank down onto the cushions, stretching out his long legs and letting out a contented groan. "Alright," he conceded, feigning impatience. "Show me”

"Patience" you sang, leaning down to leave a sweet, lingering kiss on his lips. It already left Luke wanting more, a hint of the sensuality that awaited him.

Pulling back, you placed your hands playfully behind your back. "Close your eyes" you commanded.

“What?” he chucked.

"You heard me" you continued. "Close your eyes, Luke."

He couldn't help but laugh a little. You'd had your fair share of surprise fashion shows in this cabin, and never once had you asked him to close his eyes. He had seen you in everything – from flowy maxi dresses to chic skirts and playful jumpsuits. Yet, here you were, adding a layer of mystery to the whole event.

“No” he simply said then, shrugging his shoulders.

You stomped one foot lightly on the floor. "Luke!" you whined, your voice laced with mock frustration.

"Nuh-uh" he countered, shaking his head with a grin.

"Please" you pleaded, batting your eyelashes at him in a way you knew he couldn't resist. "Just this once. Close your eyes for me?"

His smile softened. "Baby, why the big secret?" he asked, genuine curiosity flickering beneath the amusement in his eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen you in everything already. A beautiful dress, a sexy skirt, shorts, a blouse— whatever surprise you have, it's gonna look fabulous on you."

You shook your head, biting your lip to hold back a mischievous grin. "It's none of those things, silly" you hinted.

"Is it that bikini you were freaking out about?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. He remembered you whining weeks ago about forgetting a stunning pink bikini you'd just bought.

“No” you whined again. “But thanks for reminding me”

"Sweetheart" he started, a smile playing on his lips. "I'm not closing my eyes. Just do your thing, like you always do” he said, laying back on his hands onto the mattress.

You sighed. This boy, you thought. “Fine” you finally conceded.

Luke watched you with a growing curiosity as your fingers got rid of the little fabric-like-belt that hugged your waist and kept the coat closed. He couldn't help but admire the way you moved, a subtle sensuality that was familiar and electrifying.

With a delicate movement, you untied it and let the coat fall open, cascading down your shoulders and pooling at your feet on the ground, revealing the outfit you'd been hiding beneath.

Luke stopped breathing. A choked sound, something like a whimper, escaped his lips, his hand instinctively flying up to cover his mouth.

You stood before him in a set of lingerie, a vision of breathtaking beauty. The set was a masterpiece of pink lace and whisper-thin silk, designed to ignite a fire in his heart. It clung to your curves like a second skin, strategically leaving just enough to the imagination to set his mind ablaze.

The fabric seemed to map the contours of your body with exquisite precision, contrasting beautifully with the golden necklace hanging from your neck. Every lace pattern, every curve emphasized by the design, was a feast for his eyes. The details overwhelmed his senses. Delicate bra straps adorned your shoulders, adorned with tiny bows that matched the ones strategically placed at the apex of your thighs. The lace traced the outline of your body, highlighting your best features in a way that sent shivers cascading down his spine.

He felt momentarily paralyzed. His eyes followed the curve of your hips, of your breasts, where the fabric skimmed your skin, barely there and yet somehow holding everything in place. His mind raced with a million thoughts, none of them coherent.

His cock started to hurt against his pants, tightening and throbbing and more than ready for attention.

A slow smile, as confident as it was mischievous, spread across your face. You knew the effect you were having. So you decided to break the delicious silence. Casually placing your hands on your hips, you tilted your head at a playful angle. "So," you finally said, "What do you think, babe?"

Luke's predicament was comical. His eyes darted back and forth like a trapped animal, taking in every inch of your exquisite form. His mind, usually sharp and focused, was a tangled mess. The hand that had previously covered his mouth now rubbed his face in frustration as he groaned. You giggled softly, a faint blush crept up your own cheeks.

It finally stopped over his eyes as if to shield himself from the overwhelming image. "Are you trying to kill me?" he finally wheezed, his voice devoid of its usual smooth charm. It sounded more like the desperate gasp of a man who'd just run a marathon in the desert heat.

You pretended to think of an answer. "Maybe a little" you admitted.

He dropped his hand, eyes roaming around your body once again. But Luke tore his gaze away for a moment, locking eyes with you. His gaze held yours for a beat before his body finally seemed to catch up with his mind.

He stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. You stood perfectly still with your arms on your sides, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. A mix of anticipation and nervous excitement bubbled in your stomach.

He approached you slowly, his eyes locked on yours. He then stopped just inches from you. His hand reached out to yours, slowly tracing a circle on the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Twirl around for me" he whispered, his voice thick with need.

Your lips twitched into a mischievous smile. You couldn't hold back the amusement bubbling within you. He was completely captivated, a delicious side effect of your surprise.

But you played along, your smile softening as you held his hand properly. You lifted your hand and Luke´s above your head, mimicking the movement of a dancer as you twirled with a slow, and deliberate spin.

Luke watched you, mesmerized, his eyes following your every move. The dip of your back, the lack of fabric there. The way the little piece of clothes exposed your ass, making him clench his free hand in a fist to prevent himself from touching you like he wanted. He looked like a man possessed, his breathing ragged, his gaze devouring every inch of you.

"Wow" he finally managed, the word escaping his lips in a breathless sigh. It was a simple word, but the way he said it was enough. You had left him speechless, officially.

“Like what you see?” you ask.

He seemed to choke on his saliva. "Like?" he echoed, the word barely a squeak. His hands, warm and calloused, reached for your hips. He squeezed gently, twice. His fingers dipped under the delicate lace on the sides of your hips, the rough contrast against your soft skin sending a delicious shiver down your spine. "Baby, I—" he started, his voice thick with desire. But he cut himself off, a breathless laugh escaping his lips.

"Can't speak?" you teased, leaning closer, your lips hovering a tantalizing breath away from his.

“I can´t think” he admitted. His hands roamed further, exploring the curve of your waist.

You stand on your tip toes, brushing your lips against his. You feel his hands tightening its grip on your waist, pulling you in ever more, your body pressed against him. "What do you want to do with me, Luke?" you whispered, your voice laced with a seductive challenge.

He no longer bothered with words. Instead, his strong hands took a sudden grip on your thighs, just below your ass, as he lifted you effortlessly off your feet. Your legs wrap unconsciously around his waist and your arms across his neck as you let out a soft laugh. You found yourself face-to-face with him, his gaze devouring yours with intensity before he took a grip on the back of your neck and smashed his lips against yours.

With long steps, he walked backwards until he felt the bed against the back of his legs, softly sitting down on the mattress as you properly sat on his lap. He wouldn´t let you breath, constantly stealing the air from your lungs as he kissed you hungrily, messily. His teeth grazed over your bottom lip constantly, tempting to bite.

You let out a soft moan against Luke´s lips when one of his hands smacks down on one of your ass cheeks, then gripping on the red flesh.

“Do we have time?” he asks breathlessly against your lips.

“We always do” you reply.

Sex with Luke was a filled with passion and intensity, each encounter a crescendo of pleasure that left you both breathless and wanting more, each encounter better than the last.

Luke's dominance was a force to be reckoned with, his touch both tender and commanding as he explored every inch of your body. He reveled in the sight of you clad in that tantalizing lingerie, his desire burning brighter with each passing moment.

With a hunger that matched your own, Luke lavished attention on you, his lips and hands mapping every curve, every contour. He teased a lot, his fingers dancing over the fabric, snapping it, twirling it, each movement growing the wetness in between your legs.

His mouth finding every sensitive spot. Your cries of ecstasy echoed through the cabin as his tongue lapped over your cunt, with your fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged ever so often. The sounds were wet, dirty, grotesque even, but that’s just how Luke was; so desperate for you that he didn’t even think what he was doing, just focusing on what made you feel good.

As you straddled him, your bodies moving along, Luke fought to hold back the pleasure that threatened to consume him. But with each roll of your hips, each gasp that escaped your lips, his control slipped further and further away.

"O-oh, fuck" he groaned. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements with a possessiveness that bordered on obsession, his hips meeting yours with a primal urgency that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

With the afternoon sun casting golden rays through the windows, you both knew that discretion was key. But as your moans threatened to betray you, Luke's hand found its way to your lips. He didn’t need to ask.

Your lips wrapped eagerly on his thumb, the rest of his fingers gripping on your jaw.

"So needy, sweetheart" he whispered, his voice a deliciously sinful melody that sent shivers down your spine. "So needy for my cock, huh?"

Luke ravaged you, his cock slamming into you with a force that bordered on brutality, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the cabin like a primal drumbeat.

It felt almost animalistic. He never got rid of your clothes —if you could call it ‘clothes’—, his forehead shining with sweat, his chest red and lips parted just inches away from yours. You were his weakness, and having you like this, hopping on his cock frenetically and wearing something that was just for him… it drove him mad.

“You’re mine. All mine, right?” he asked, tilting his head. You knew he was close, by the way his hands now gripped on your ass, letting him take full control of the roll of your hips, occasionally pulling at the sides of your thong. You struggled for a bit, your movements becoming as sloppy and as messy as his, less precise, but you managed;

“Yes. Yes, Luke, I’m yours”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #pjo series #pjo #pjo smut #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x you #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines #aphrodite

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seawing-vibes · 2 days

Text

Decided to fill out a template from @/falling-skyzz I feel normal about . The dragons ! List of characters & design & dynamic thoughts under the cut <3

Also If anyone else fills out thus template feel free to send me the post,, I would love to see other people filling this out!!! I love templates !!

Secretkeeper & Moon • I understand theres a lot of reasonable hate for Secretkeeper but!!! I find her & moon to be a very fascinating pair! To make a long ass thought short, I think Secretkeeper is the embodiment of “product of her environment & deeply traumatize & projecting”. I think she genuinely really loves moon but obviously expresses that through being “”protective””. But I think shes genuinely a character with a capacity for change & realizing the autonomy Moon has over her own powers. Also from the perspective of Moon I think her arc around her relationship with her mom could be really interesting, especially as Secretkeepers authority becomes challenged in Moons life & she has to confront the bullshit her mother has put her through. Overall very very interesting pair I think about them a lot.

Design Note: Secretkeeper is duller in color than Moon & has less stars due to lack of moon light on the island! Also the scales around her mouth are almost completely black, making her mouth barely visible, giving her the name “Secretkeeper” as she “has no mouth to tell others secrets.”

Tsunami & Starflight • Just one of my fav siblings! This specific illustration is from the Arena Scene in Dragonet Prophesy! I really really love Tsu & Starflights dynamic of looking up to eachother & their development together just. So neat!

Design Note: Starflight has very few constellation marks in this illustration as he hasnt spent much time under moonlight quite yet!

Shark & Abalone • One of my more out-there ships! I based this on the thought that Shark was once close with Abalone (cough. Husbands.) and that relates to why he was willing to give Tortoise a lunch-break from watching the eggs. He already saw someone close to him die from being overworked to watch the clutch, he didn’t want to watch another dragon die from his sisters selfishness. I could write an essay on these two I swear

Deisgn Note: Shark is based on a tiger shark & abalone is based on real abalones! hes one of my fav designs here

Six-Claws & Ostrich • He’s just a sweet dad! the little we see of him he seems to really love her & vice-versa <3 they’re just neat

Design Note: Six-Claws is based on a king cobra & is a specific sub-“species” of hooded Sandwings ! Burn found his hood mutation & six-claws super interesting

Tamarin & Pike • My fav background friendship! They’re just fun. I like Pike just chillin out around Tamarin & describing flower colors to her to the best of his ability (she just likes to hear him ramble about a shared interest)

Design Notes: I updated how I draw Tamarins eyes to properly resemble a blind-born dragon ! Also Pike’s deisgn got some yellow in it and I really like it <3

Whiteout & Thoughtful • I just think they’re neat!! They just seem like a sweet pair love them

Design Note: none really! Just experimenting with a rando Thoughtful design that I tossed together for my “ships tier list”

Tsunami • Its just her :) my fav dragon <3!!! I definitely dont think she upholds the “princess” title once she gets older, her only link to the throne is by Coral insisting monthly visits but Tsu otherwise wouldn’t be any interesting in royal life I would imagine

Design Note: Shes caught a waaururrghh something im going bonkers I cant remember what fish that is and my reference photo seems to have dissipated into the cosmos

Anemone • I LOVE HER. SO MUCH ! Anemone haters BACK OFF!!!! Her relationship to her powers is so fucked man. Something you’d think would give her power & control is just a key by which others use to manipulate and abuse her like . Man :( shes literally never had any autonomy over her own identity & intermingled her powers into her identity So Much only for that aspect of herself to also be revealed to be a facade for someone else’s desires like. GUH I love her so much I hope shes having a good day I dont care what anyone says she deserves to be a brat and I support her for it

Design Note: none really! The stars in her talons are just metaphorical though

Snowflake & Snowfox • THE OGS!!!!!! MY FAVORITE PROBLEMATIC LESBIANS <3 Ahhh remember in the early days when they were considered the #1 most problematic ship because they were gay and also evil. I love the evil lesbians so much they’re so shitty sorry Darkstalker Snowfox should’ve been queen I would’ve loved to see that go down it’d be so silly

Design Notes: Snowfox is based on an arctic fox shedding into their summer coat!! I know its p . Away from canon descriptors of her but it was sm fun to illustrate so shhh <3 Snowflake is just grey & blueish per-canon but shes sooo fun. love her.

Okay thats all here are the individual illustrations now !!!!! Because why not !!! If these aren’t transparent its all over

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sinsirellaxx · 2 days

Note

Can you do a toxic! Slyhterin boys where they found out y/n is actually pregnant? Cause let’s be honest, they wouldn’t be happy and sweet about getting their girlfriend pregnant

Slytherin Boys – Reacting to you getting pregnant

Warning: Toxic boys, mentions and talks of abortion, toxic relationships etc., not proofread (cause I'm lazy)

A/N: Thank you for the request! I totally agree with the idea that they wouldn't be happy at all!

Hope you'll like it!

Mattheo …

… glares down at your trembling hand holding the offending pregnancy test, his nose pulled up in disgust.

… suddenly views you as this stupid person that is unable to use birth control. If you aren’t on birth control and only use condoms, he’d still think you were the cause for this mess. Did you poke holes into the condoms? Did you want to get pregnant and trap him?

… would be so turned off by the idea of having a child at that age, that he’d project all that frustration and negativity on you – he’d start detesting you. Gone is the obsession he had felt for you and replaced by pure annoyance.

… stared at you coldly as he told you he didn’t want to see you anymore – that he didn’t want to be involved with anything regarding the child – his child.

Theodore …

… stares at his phone dumbly – his mind completely blank as he assessed the situation. Well, fuck.

… immediately blocks you – a poor attempt to push you and his new problem out of his life.

… desperately hopes you don’t try to confront him – he’s an asshole but he doesn’t want to be cruel to your face, duh. But obviously, you did confront him.

… rolls his eyes when you start crying in front of him, obviously scared and overwhelmed by the situation and his apathy.

… rudely interrupts you and tells you to fuck off – that he cannot have a child yet. If you refuse to just leave, he’ll obliviate himself out of your life. Problem solved, right?

Lorenzo …

… would get angry. Not at himself – no, he’d be mad at you. How could you destroy such a beautiful relationship?

… is desperate – he loves you but the thought of having a child make his balls shrink.

… would force you to make a choice: Him or the child. If you want to keep the child, he’ll break up with you – which further angers him, because he still wants you but if you decide to terminate he’d be back to being his usual loving and obsessed self.

Draco …

… enters panic mode. He knows his parents and he knows the chaos that would ensue of they found out, so he begged you to terminate. If you refuse to, he’ll try to gaslight and manipulate you into doing it.

… will hold a grudge if you do not terminate and his parents find out, which would result in you two having to get married.

… would be kind of put off by the thought of you carrying and growing a child and distance himself from you.

… would definitely cheat to satiate his desires and needs because his feelings for you were clouded by hatred.

Blaise …

… laughs in your face when you tell him. He thinks it is a joke. When he takes in the state you are in it quickly dawns on him that you aren’t joking after all.

… groans loudly as a string of profanities leaves his lips – why did everything have to be so complicated?

… suddenly accuses you of cheating on him because no way in hell could he have gotten you pregnant. He’d try to talk his way out of it – spewing lies about his fertility and turning the situation in a way that makes him look like the victim.

… tells you to leave and accuses you of being a filthy cheater.

Tom …

… will demand, no, force you to terminate – because he would not allow any mistakes. He doesn’t want to be a father – especially not out of wedlock.

… doesn’t give you a choice – because you can’t be trusted. He’ll help you through the procedure and ensures that you actually go through with it.

… he’ll not break up with you though but will put you on birth control and watch you take the pills every. Single. Day.

… does not show any remorse or empathy, because he simply cannot understand why you’d be this devastated. If he has to, he’ll obliviate you and make you forget about the whole incident.

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pin-k-ink · 2 days

Text

apodyopsis // gojo satoru

tw ⇢ teacher-student relationship, wet dreams, implied masturbation, teasing, face fucking, blow job, degradation, name calling, unprotected sex, fingering, spanking, cunnilingus, begging, dirty talk, biting, squirting

wc ⇢ 6.7k

The pre-dawn stillness was a weighted hush blanketing the dorms in velveteen quiet, its silence broken only by the occasional murmur of a somnolent student or rustling of restless bedsheets. For you, however, slumber remained an elusive wraith dancing maddeningly at the periphery of your consciousness.

You tossed fretfully beneath the covers, limbs tangling amid the cocooning bedlinens as your mind whirred with feverish wakefulness. No matter how you willed your thoughts towards blissful oblivion, they continued spiraling back towards that same smoldering nexus.

Gojo Satoru.

Just the whisper of his name through your internal musings was enough to rekindle those now all-too-familiar tendrils of forbidden yearning. You groaned in frustration, scrubbing your palms over burning cheeks as you struggled to dispel the intrusive visions that lurked behind your tightly squeezed lids.

Your teacher's powerful frame, taut with sinewy grace as he demonstrated the day's forms with that typical indolent, feline confidence... The fall of his shimmering hair shifting to reveal scorching sidelong glimpses of his ruggedly chiseled features... His voice, pitched in those low, velvet-hushed registers that somehow seemed to caress your very nerve endings...

You bit back another strangled whimper, already perilously close to losing yourself in the intoxicating imagery flowing through your mind's eye. A part of you recognized the madness of such hopeless infatuation - Gojo was your teacher, after all, as well as one of the most lauded sorcerers of your generation. To covet him in this way was pure fantasy, a suicidal taboo.

And yet, another more insidious whisper urged you onwards, fanning the smoldering embers of desire until your body felt fever-flushed and thrumming with taut, maddened yearning.

With a shuddering exhalation, you surrendered to the delicious torture. If this was insanity, so be it - you would gladly go feverishly mad dreaming of him. Already, the visions grew more twisted, more lascivious, thrilling darkly through your veins like a sudden injection of searing sin.

Your breath hitched in tiny, frantic pants as the fantasy unspooled, cradling you in its velvet-gloved depravity. Gojo looming over you in the sweltering dark, gaze caged by the curtaining fall of his white lashes yet somehow still managing to scorch like twin supernovas. A sinuous grin of dark promise curving the hard angle of his mouth as he leaned closer, closer, until all you knew was the searing brand of his body aligned hotly against yours.

Those wicked lips would descend in a punishing sweep, laying claim with blistering intensity as his powerful frame bracketed your far slighter one. Each delirious moan was swallowed, consumed, stoking your ardor to conflagrant new infernos with every dizzying exchange. There was nothing tender, nothing gentle in this devouring rapture, only a raw and desperate hunger as he feasted on your body.

By the time his hips rocked against yours in a teasing slide of his heavy arousal, you were utterly undone, lost to the sweet torment of his touch. You could feel the delicious drag of his length, already so slick and slippery with your dripping need, poised at your aching core. The blunt tip nudged against your opening, once, twice, and then-

You writhed beneath his dominance, any hope of restraint or inhibition burned away in that molten inferno. A vocalized litany of need poured from your bitten lips, shameless pleas for Gojo's mercy, for the benediction of his touch through every sin-scorched landscape of your body-

With a violent start, you jolted awake, chest heaving and skin damp with sweat-slicked exertion. The feverish remnants of that delirious fantasy clung to your addled senses like the ephemeral wisps of a shattered dream.

You were scarcely aware of the muffled groan that parted your lips, nor of the shaky hand that slid downward to ghost over the throbbing ache between your legs. It was only when you felt the dampness of your panties, the swollen nub of your clit twitching under the feather-light pressure, that you realized just how deeply you'd fallen into that heated fantasy.

For a dazed handful of breaths, you could hardly process what had just occurred - the stunning loss of control, the buckling submission to something as dangerously seductive as the forbidden fantasies of your teacher, your mentor-

Were you moaning his name?

A smothered whine slipped free as the reckless recollections took root anew. How could you possibly face him later, meet the searing weight of his stare and not combust from the inside out? Mortification and shame warred with that same plaintive, desperate longing still thrumming hot through your veins.

With trembling fingers and only the faintest grasp on coherence, you groped blindly for your phone on the nightstand. The light from its cracked display seared your overly sensitized retinas, but you refused to let it deter you as you fired off a hasty text to your most trusted confidant detailing every filthy, depraved facet of the fantasy.

There, you thought with a shaky exhale as the final message sent. Maybe purging the lurid details would also help purge the fantasy from your overwrought psyche.

Famous last words.

The dull glow of your phone's cracked display seemed to blaze like a supernova in the pre-dawn stillness of your dorm room. You blinked blearily, still caught in the smoldering vestiges of the deliriously vivid dream that had finally relinquished its feverish hold on your slumber.

With trembling fingers, you tapped out a hasty text to your best friend, the only person you could conceivably confide in about the lascivious, wildly inappropriate fantasies featuring your teacher that had plagued your unconscious mind.

The words fairly poured out in a torrent of hushed desperation, each lurid recollection more scandalous than the last. The exact timbre of Gojo's velvet-husked growls as he pinned you beneath the scorching brand of his body...the exquisite agony rapture of his cock plunging into your tight, dripping core...the searing bliss of his cum painting your skin in his possessive claim...the way his fingers tangled in your hair, forcing your head back and jaw open wide for the hot spurt of his seed as he claimed your mouth...

You spared no detail, no filthy nuance or whisper of depraved intimacy. The fantasy - if one could even call it that - had consumed you so thoroughly, searing away every pretense of restraint or propriety until you were left bare and aching with the desperate need for release. The consecration of being possessed utterly by a man you should never have yearned for in the first place, let alone fantasized about with such explosive fervor.

With a trembling exhalation, you hit send and let the damning record spill out into the cold digital ether. There, you thought with a sickly lurch of equal parts shame and lascivious relief. It was out of your system, safely partitioned away where it could no longer wield such dark, heady influence over your tenuous grasp on coherence.

At least, that's what you desperately hoped as you slipped back into an uneasy slumber, haunted by echoing Whispers of unholy raptures still lingering from the night's delirium.

If only you had known the true, devastating ramifications your little midnight confession would bring...

Hours later, the jarring blare of the morning wake-up klaxons lanced through your groggy consciousness like a cacophonous call to penance. You stirred with a piteous groan, every muscle protesting the demands of wakefulness after so little rest.

The usual flurry of morning ablutions and dressing passed by in a bleary blur of motion and muffled sounds. But it wasn't until you padded into the dojo's hushed antechamber, fingers deftly securing your hair into a simple topknot, that full awareness came crashing back in a sickening wave of dread.

There, awaiting you just on the other side of the shoji door, was the very man who had starred in your sordid, lust-soaked fantasies. The man you had spent the better part of the previous night dreaming about plowing into your sopping, desperate core until you were screaming his name and begging for release. The man you were now utterly petrified to face, let alone hold focus beneath that banked, smoldering stare without combusting from the inside out.

You froze in the entryway, poised in the heart of a sleepwalker's stillness as guilt and illicit desire warred for dominance. How could you possibly look Gojo Satoru in the eye today, of all days? To weather the weight of his piercing crimson scrutiny and not simply confess every mortifying detail on bended knee?

The prospect was unthinkable, untenable. Which meant the only sane course was to...what? Flee? Abandon your duties and sacred calling over some inconvenient fevered dreams, no matter how deliriously inappropriate?

No, you couldn't do that. Not after the endless hours of dedication and struggle to claw your way to this hallowed state. You were stronger than your base desires, stronger than the tangled morass of desperate cravings that still thrummed thrillingly beneath your straining composure.

Straightening your spine with a fortifying inhale, you slid the chamber's door aside to reveal the already unfolding morning session. The training floor stretched before you in a polished immaculata of gleaming hardwood, sectioned rice papel screens filtering the daylight into hushed jade-tinged refractions. A handful of junior students moved through the opening forms under Gojo's watchful crimson scrutiny, his presence as undeniable and potent as a bonfire amidst the frigid tranquility.

You approached with measured, silent strides, endeavoring to overlay your turbulent inner discord with an aura of serene poise. Just take your position among the ranks and maintain focus - that was the key. Gojo was your teacher, your esteemed mentor, and nothing more. He deserved your utmost respect and dedication.

He would never know the depths of the unholy reverie you'd indulged, the shameless fantasies in which you'd utterly surrendered to his imagined dominion. This was just an ordinary training session. Routine and sacred, just like any other.

Little did you realize, you'd already forfeited what tattered shreds remained of your composure the moment you pressed 'send' on those scandalous confessions...

The thick tension blanketing the dojo was utterly suffocating as Gojo's molten stare bored into you from across the training floor. You fought to maintain your composure, limbs flowing through the familiar forms and stances with practiced precision. But despite your staunch outward control, your mind whirled in panicked disarray.

There was no way, simply no feasible possibility that Gojo could know the depraved, wildly inappropriate fantasies you'd indulged in last night. The sordid images and sensations were still fresh enough to ignite tendrils of blazing mortification licking through your veins. Just the fleeting recollections alone - his powerful frame looming over you, lips trailing liquid fire paths across your fevered skin as he urged forth your unraveling - were enough to bring a scorching blush to your cheeks.

You chanced a furtive glance in Gojo's direction, immediately regretting it when you found his gaze locked onto you with unsettling intensity. There was an edge to that stare, a dark promise lurking behind the usual disaffected ennui. Interpreting it sent a convulsive shiver streaking down your spine.

As if sensing your covert appraisal, the slightest of smirks curved Gojo's lips. "You look a little flushed over there," he drawled, the rasped insinuation making you flinch. "Was your mind wandering to...inappropriate places again?"

You sputtered, mouth working soundlessly for a moment as panic gripped you. There was simply no way he could be privy to your indecent daydreams, no plausible avenue for them to manifest beyond the iron walls of your discretion. Right?

Gojo tsked, straightening from his lazy lean against the wall to stalk towards you with leonine grace. Each rolling stride seemed to ripple with coiled power and masculine potency. You swallowed thickly, fingers twitching against the desperate urge to tug at your collar.

"Still playing coy, I see," he murmured, coming to loom at your back so near you could feel the scorching whisper of his breath against your nape. "But we both know you've been having some very...naughty thoughts about your sensei. Forbidden little fantasies unbecoming of a focused pupil."

Your face flamed, confirming his suspicions as you cursed your inability to force down the telltale swell of arousal kindling low in your belly. How could this be happening?

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammered, cursing the thinness of your voice. "Those are just baseless accusations-"

"Is that so?" Gojo all but purred, the words shaped in a salacious lilt against the sensitive whorls of your ear. "So you didn't spend last night writhing in drenched sheets, desperate fingers plunging into your slick little cunt while you fantasized about your sensei pounding you into a screaming, sopping mess?"

You jolted, a strangled keen escaping your constricted throat at the shockingly explicit parallels he had described down to the lascivious detail. There was no possible way...unless...oh gods.

With a sudden spike of visceral recollection, you remembered the drunken texts you'd fired off last night. The breathless, incriminating confessions of every lurid, soul-scorching facet of that all-consuming fantasy laid bare for your confidante's eyes. Or rather, who you thought had been your confidante.

A wrecked sound of pure chagrin slipped free as you connected the final pieces - you must have tapped the wrong contact in your addled, post-reverie haze and sent those torrid details directly to Gojo himself. Which meant...he knew it all. Literally every lascivious intimacy you had entertained about your mentor now lingered in his possession like some unholy bounty.

"I see that horrified little sound means you're catching on," Gojo chuckled then, the deep reverberation tinged with sadistic delight. "Good girl. I was wondering when you'd put it all together like the clever little minx you are."

His mouth hovered a hairsbreadth from the feverish hollow beneath your ear as his next husked words sank molten hooks into your sanity.

"Now, since I know every last depraved detail already, why don't you go ahead and give your sensei a little replay, hmm? Don't leave anything out, no matter how filthy or profane it might be..."

The world seemed to tilt dizzily underfoot as Gojo's soft rumble of mocking commanded you to voice every blasphemous, lust-drenched nuance of your forbidden reverie aloud. You were paralyzed, throat insistent and arid as the mortification of such obscene admission warred with the increasingly feverish spiral of yearning coiling low in your abdomen.

This was madness, a line too profane to be uncrossed surely. Yet you wavered, lingering on a precipice overlooking nothing but the most scintillating transgressions...and eternal rapture beyond.

A heavy silence fell over the dojo, the weighted tension near suffocating in its intensity. You remained rooted in place, paralyzed beneath the scorching heat of Gojo's stare and the utterly salacious implications he had voiced.

Part of you trembled with humiliated revulsion at the thought of confessing the depraved nuances of your fever dream aloud. It felt like a transgression too profane, too far across the boundaries of sacred student-teacher trust to ever be uncrossed.

And yet...another part of you, one you found increasingly difficult to silence, thrilled with illicit fascination at the prospect. Gojo's words had ignited smoldering embers of forbidden yearning in your depths, whispering insidious permission to shed propriety's shackles, if only for a few breathless moments.

You wet your lips, casting about for some fragmentary thread of denial or composure to cling to. But there was only the weighted tension spooling out between you and your darkly magnetic mentor as he awaited your answer with supreme, unruffled confidence.

"Well?" Gojo's silken prompt sliced through the stifling quiet, edged with a mocking lilt that made tendrils of pure molten desire unfurl low in your belly. "Don't tell me the deliciously depraved fantasy that had you whimpering and thrashing has flown that pretty little head already?"

You flushed deeply, chagrin and arousal swirling in a dizzying eddies. He was enjoying this far too much - dangling your unforgivable indiscretions before you like the ripest forbidden fruit. Worse, you could feel the first tremulous fingers of capitulation beginning to loosen your restraint and unlatch the dam of pent-up cravings.

Gojo's smirk deepened, somehow both seductively inviting and indecently vulpine all at once. "I'm waiting, pet," he purred, the words shaped in wicked promise. "Give us a taste of whatever lewd scenarios had you so thoroughly undone. Don't be shy now..."

A whimper slipped free as your resolve crumbled in increments. You opened your mouth to unleash the first husked, sacreligious confession...only to be silenced by the sudden, shocking collision of Gojo's mouth against yours.

It was a kiss utterly devoid of preamble or finesse, all scintillating possession and scorching demands as his hand fisted in your hair to angle your stunned submission. You made a strangled sound against the velvet plunder, every nerve ending erupting into searing detonate as he brought the full brunt of his virility and dark intent to bear.

This was no mere impulsive breach of propriety, but rather the gleeful obliteration of all remaining boundaries in a blinding conflagration of pure, untempered desire. Gojo consumed your gasping whimpers and pleas, stoking your shuddering capitulation higher with each lascivious sweep of his tongue and punishing nip of teeth.

By the time he at last wrenched away, his chest was heaving in a matching cadence to your own ragged pants. For a suspended breath, you could only gape at him, insensate and utterly undone in the most profoundly carnal sense imaginable. His grin was nothing short of wickedly conquering as he dragged a calloused thumb over your abused, desire-slicked lips.

"Somehow, I get the feeling mere words won't suffice for properly indulging your lustful appetites any longer," Gojo rumbled in that gravel-husked timbre that seemed to vibrate straight through your enflamed senses. "Lucky for you, I'm in a generous mood to demonstrate, pet..."

And with no further preamble, he hauled you flush against the searing brand of his body once more as the world shattered into fevered shards of blissful, profane rapture.

There was no hesitation, no pretense of restraint or propriety left in the wake of Gojo's all-consuming dominance. Every caress was a claim, every heated, growled command a sacred edict, each and every one intended to reduce you to a shivering, whimpering mess utterly enslaved to his will.

He had you naked and keening beneath him in a matter of heartbeats, fingers twitching and twisting at his belt buckle until he batted your hands away. You pouted at the denial, only to have him chuckle darkly as he loomed over your writhing, needy form.

"Ah-ah," he rasped, seizing both wrists and pinning them above your head. "This isn't about your pleasure. This is a lesson, pet, and I intend to take my sweet, sweet time in teaching it."

He leaned down, the hard planes of his muscled torso dragging sinuously against yours as he claimed your mouth in another brutal, searing kiss. He swallowed each moan and gasp as he plundered your depths, his tongue a velvet-honed weapon as he stoked your pleasure higher and higher.

By the time he released your mouth, you were panting, utterly undone and writhing with unquenched need. Gojo smirked, his azure gaze searing with the weight of a thousand unholy vows as he began his slow, torturous descent down the length of your body.

"Now let's see if that naughty little fantasy was as filthy as you professed, hmm?" he rasped, fingers teasing down the slope of your breasts to tease their pebbled peaks. "Or should I say, 'fantasies?'"

He grinned wickedly, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your inner thigh and making you buck and cry out.

"Yes, I believe that's what you said, weren't they? You spent last night fantasizing about my cock stretching your pretty little cunt open, about my cum painting you from the inside out..." He groaned, the vibrations humming straight through to the tender, aching apex of your thighs. "What else? Tell me, pet. Let me hear how depraved that filthy little mind truly is."

A strangled, needy whimper tore from your lips as he resumed his leisurely, agonizing torture. Each lick and scrape of teeth against your fevered flesh stoked the smoldering coals of arousal even hotter, until you were practically trembling with need.

Gojo chuckled, the sound vibrating against your swollen clit and making you arch and keen. "Tell me," he commanded once more, his voice a low, dark threat that made your walls flutter around nothing. "Don't make me ask again, pet."

"I-" Your voice broke on a choked groan as his tongue flicked out once more, circling the throbbing apex of your clit with maddening, featherlight pressure. "I-I dreamed about you fucking me on the floor of the dojo, sensei. Just like this. Pinning me down and filling me with your cock, with your cum until I was dripping and stuffed full of it-"

A wrecked sound tumbled past your lips as Gojo rewarded your compliance with the first thrust of his fingers, long and thick and curling just so within you. He smirked against your dripping folds, the expression pure depraved indulgence.

"That wasn’t all, was it?" he rasped, the words shaped in a filthy litany against your sex. "You said something else. Something...filthier. Why don't you tell me all about it?"

His fingers curled mercilessly inside you, stroking and rubbing in tandem with the maddening swirl of his tongue around your clit. Your thighs trembled, a fine sheen of sweat misting your fevered flesh. The pleasure was a delirious inferno, threatening to engulf you and consume you in its white-hot embrace.

"Tell me," Gojo growled once more, the vibrations rippling through your overwrought senses. "What was the rest of it?"

The dam finally burst, spilling forth a tidal wave of sordid revelations.

"I dreamed about you using me, fucking my mouth, forcing your cock down my throat, sensei. You were using me like a toy, fucking every hole until I was full of your cum and screaming, begging for more. You made me worship you, forced me to swallow every last drop like the good little whore I am, and I loved every second of it-"

Your babbling confession broke on a choked scream as Gojo's mouth sealed around your clit and sucked, his fingers stroking mercilessly within you until the world was nothing but the searing heat and unbridled rapture. Your climax swept over you in an engulfing torrent, the sheer force of it leaving you blind and breathless.

Gojo continued his relentless assault, wringing every last gasp and tremor from your trembling body until you were a boneless heap, utterly wrecked and undone. His grin was positively savage, the crimson blaze of his gaze a dark promise as he crawled up the length of your spent body.

"Look at that, a perfect little dream come true," he murmured, his lips tracing a path up your heaving, fevered skin. "What else do you want, pet? What more could a shameless little slut like you possibly desire?"

His fingers twined with yours, pressing your palms back into the hardwood as his mouth hovered mere breaths from yours. Your pulse skittered wildly, still reeling and thrumming from the intensity of your climax. But despite your dazed exhaustion, the need remained, a deep, gnawing ache in the core of your very being.

"You know," Gojo husked, his smirk widening. "If you're feeling up to it, we could always play a little game of...what was it again? Oh yes, 'fucking my mouth and forcing your cock down my throat'?"

He chuckled, the low reverberations vibrating through you and making you moan.

"Is that what you want, pet?" he continued, his voice pitched to a husked rasp. "For me to use that pretty little mouth like the cock sleeve it was clearly meant to be?"

You nodded frantically, unable to resist the lure of his words, of his potent, dark promise. The need was an absolute frenzy, an unbearable ache you were desperate to quench.

"Say it," Gojo growled, his grip tightening as he pinned you beneath the blistering weight of his stare. "Say it aloud, pet. Beg me for it."

"Please," you whined, hips rocking and straining for more contact. "Please, sensei, fuck my mouth, force your cock down my throat, use me like the dirty little cock sleeve I am. Please, I want it, please-"

You were cut off by the searing press of Gojo's lips against yours, his mouth claiming yours with a raw, possessive edge that sent shivers cascading down your spine. He kissed you breathless, consuming every needy whimper and plea until he was all that remained.

"That's a good girl," he growled, the words shaped in a heated rasp against the hollow of your throat. "So good for me. Now open up."

He was already shifting into position above you, his powerful frame looming in a sinuous predatory crawl. You could see the heavy length of his cock jutting from the part of his unfastened trousers, a thick, angry curve of flesh and iron. A fresh surge of arousal coursed through you, making your thighs clench and walls clamp around nothing.

You barely had a moment to take in his virile, dominant stance before Gojo's hand was fisting in your hair and guiding the fat, swollen crown of his cock past the part of your lips.

"Open," he ordered, his menacing stare pinning you in place as he fed his thick shaft into your open, willing mouth.

The salty tang of him exploded across your tongue, a potent mix of salt and dark male musk that made you moan. He was impossibly large, the girth stretching your jaw wide and stuffing you nearly to the point of discomfort. But you wanted more, craved it desperately, and so you sucked and laved at him with unbridled enthusiasm.

Gojo's eyes fluttered closed, his head lolling back as a guttural groan escaped him. The sight was intoxicating, empowering, knowing you could draw such a visceral reaction from him.

"That's it," he rasped, his hips pumping a slow, steady rhythm into the wet clutch of your mouth. "You were born to suck my cock, weren't you, pet? Who knew the prim little pupil I had in my classroom would be such a filthy little cocksucker beneath the surface."

You moaned around his shaft, the vibration making him hiss. You could feel the feverish slick of arousal coating your thighs, the desire for him to plunge between them, to claim you completely in the most base way possible, mounting to a fever pitch.

Gojo's grip tightened in your hair, forcing you to look up at him. His expression was positively carnal, his gaze blazing with lust and dominance.

"You want more, don't you, slut? Want me to fuck your throat, to make you choke on my cock and use you like the perfect little whore you are." It was a statement, not a question, but you nodded anyway, desperate to have him claim you in every possible way.

He smiled then, a slow, wicked baring of teeth. "My pleasure."

Without further warning, he thrust deep, driving the blunt tip of his cock to the back of your throat. You sputtered and gagged, eyes watering as your throat convulsed around the intrusion. But he didn't relent, didn't show a modicum of mercy as he fucked you in long, deep strokes.

You were completely at his mercy, utterly enslaved to his dark desires. But as the world narrowed to nothing beyond the thick, punishing thrusts and the salty-slick taste of him on your tongue, you were certain there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

He used you thoroughly, taking his fill and then some. And when he finally pulled free, you were gasping and drenched in a sheen of sweat, the rawness of your throat and the swollen mess of your mouth the only proof of what had just transpired. He didn’t stop, only tugging at his cock as he stared down at you, his gaze searing with unholy promise.

"Now wrap those pretty lips around my balls, pet," he rasped. "I want you to suck on them until I say you're done."

You obeyed, eagerly parting your lips and drawing his sack into the damp heat of your mouth. You lavished attention on the velveteen skin, reveling in the groan that tore from his chest and the way his muscles tensed.

"Fuck, yes, just like that. You love sucking on my balls, don't you, slut?"

You moaned around his heavy sack, the vibrations making him hiss and thrust against your face. He was so hard, the veins of his cock throbbing as he pumped his length in rough, urgent motions.

"You want it, don't you? You want my cum. Tell me where, pet. Where do you want me to come all over you?"

"On my face, sensei," you whimpered, releasing his sack with a lewd pop. "Please, I want it, want your cum on my face."

"Good girl," he purred, his gaze raking over you in a molten caress. "Keep those pretty lips open and that tongue out."

You did as he commanded, your heart pounding in anticipation. He stroked himself with renewed vigor, his cock glistening with your saliva and the pre-cum beading at the tip.

"Here it comes, slut. Take it all."

His words were barely out before his cock twitched in his hand, a thick, pearlescent jet erupting from the head and painting your face. You moaned, the taste of him flooding your mouth as his spend coated your tongue and cheeks.

He worked his shaft through the throes of his orgasm, painting your skin with his release until you were completely marked by him. You were breathless, trembling, your own climax an insistent, gnawing ache between your thighs.

"What do you say, slut?" Gojo rasped, using the tip of his cock to swipe a dollop of cum from your cheek and pressing it past your lips. "Show some respect for your teacher."

"Thank you, sensei," you whispered, the words a reverent prayer on your swollen lips. "Thank you for using me."

His answering grin was positively wicked. "You're very welcome, pet. Now roll over and present that dripping little cunt for me."

The command sent a tremor rippling through you, a desperate thrill of anticipation and apprehension. Because you knew there was no turning back now, no chance for retreat or denial. You had already crossed too many lines, shattered too many sacred boundaries, and there was no going back.

Gojo was the living embodiment of your darkest, most depraved fantasies, and now, he intended to bring every last one to glorious, rapturous fruition.

Your breath caught as he nudged your knees apart and settled his weight atop you, his cock a scorching brand against the fevered curve of your ass. He was so much larger than you, his power and masculinity a palpable aura that enveloped and consumed you utterly.

His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice a seductive growl. "Do you know how often I've imagined this, pet? How often I've wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck you raw until you were begging and screaming for release? Do you know how difficult it's been, to maintain even a modicum of restraint when every part of me wants to claim you, to ruin you, to make you mine completely?"

He punctuated his words with a sharp nip of teeth against the vulnerable skin beneath your ear, sending a shudder rippling down your spine. "When you sent me that naughty little confession, the one where you dreamed about me using you, fucking your mouth and forcing my cock down your throat..."

He groaned, his hands flexing against your hips as his cock slid against your sopping folds. "It nearly broke my restraint, pet. To hear how badly you wanted me to fuck you, to use every hole like the perfect little cocksleeve you were destined to be..."

He pressed forward, the first teasing press of his thick cock against your aching entrance stealing the breath from your lungs.

"I've waited so long, been so patient," he murmured, the words shaped in a velvet-honed threat. "But now that I know the depths of your depravity, now that I know exactly how filthy that naughty little mind of yours can be, I intend to claim you in every possible way. Until the only name you remember is mine, the only touch you crave is mine, the only thing you feel is me, deep inside you, branding you as mine, over and over again. Understand?"

You nodded, your mouth too dry for any sound but a faint whimper to escape. But that was enough, for the next moment, he was pushing inside, his thick shaft parting your tender, dripping folds inch by torturous inch.

Your breath hitched, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth hardwood beneath you. It was so much, too much, the sensation of being so thoroughly and completely filled by him making your head spin and walls clench around his girth.

He was unrelenting, forcing you to stretch to accommodate his size, his strength, his virility. You could feel the sweat misting your fevered flesh, your nails digging furrows in the polished wood as he bottomed out with a guttural groan.

"So tight, so perfect, pet," he gritted out, his grip on your hips punishing. "I knew you would be, but this, this is a goddamn revelation."

He drew back, only to slam back inside with a force that stole the breath from your lungs. He set a brutal pace, fucking you with long, deep strokes that left no doubt who was in control, who owned every gasp and whimper and plea spilling from your lips.

"I love how you clench around me, pet. Like you can't get enough. Is that what you want? For me to fill you up, to breed you, to stuff your pretty little cunt with my cum?"

"Yes, sensei," you sobbed, the pleasure bordering on agony. "Please, use me, fuck me, fill me with your cum, make me yours, please-"

Your babbling entreaties were cut off by his palm smacking down on your ass, the impact and sting making you yelp.

"You're not the one calling the shots here, pet. Behave yourself or I'll punish you, and we won't get to the good part until I'm damn well ready for it."

His words were a harsh growl, but they sent a frisson of pure, illicit pleasure coursing through you. The thought of him disciplining you, of being punished for your misbehavior, was a dark, depraved fantasy too delicious to ignore.

"Maybe I like being punished," you dared, your voice a breathless challenge.

You weren't prepared for the growl that tore from his chest or the sudden, punishing thrust of his cock inside you. You cried out, the pleasure and pain blurring into an indecipherable haze of white-hot ecstasy.

"Is that what you want?" he snarled, his teeth sinking into the nape of your neck. "To be punished, to be used, to be broken and remade under my hand, my body, my will? I can do that, pet. I can take you to the precipice of madness and leave you begging for more."

He punctuated the threat with another brutal thrust, making you keen and buck beneath him. Your thighs were trembling, the tension in your core a tight coil threatening to snap at any moment. You could feel him thickening inside you, his own release drawing near.

"Answer me, slut. Is that what you want? To be punished, to be broken, to be used and fucked and ruined until you're screaming and writhing in my hold, unable to walk, to speak, to breathe, without feeling the memory of me seared into every inch of you?"

You were barely coherent, the pleasure and pressure an overwhelming deluge threatening to drown you. "Yes," you sobbed, the word a wrecked plea on your lips. "Yes, sensei, please, punish me, ruin me, use me, please, I need it, need you, please-"

The last syllable had barely slipped free before his hand came down in a punishing smack against your ass, the impact forcing the air from your lungs in a strangled cry. The pain and pleasure blurred together in a searing torrent, and before you could process it, he was spanking you again and again, the harsh impacts and stinging pain making you writhe and buck beneath him.

Your ass was on fire, but you were helpless, pinned and skewered and utterly enslaved to his will. His palm connected with your burning flesh once more, the sensation making you clench around his girth and keening whine.

"I can feel you clenching around me, pet. You love this, don't you? Love being used and fucked and punished, being treated like the slut you are."

You couldn't speak, couldn't think, the only sounds coming from your mouth incoherent whimpers and pleas. The pleasure was a blinding inferno, and you were helpless to do anything but ride it out, clinging to the edge of sanity by the thinnest of threads.

You could feel the tension coiling inside you, the pressure building and mounting to a crescendo. Gojo's own strokes were growing ragged and uneven, his breaths a harsh, erratic cadence against your skin.

"Come for me, pet. Come for me while I fuck you, while I breed you, while I mark you as mine."

He punctuated his snarled command with a merciless thrust, and the tension inside you finally snapped. You came apart with a hoarse cry, your entire body trembling and convulsing as you gushed an obscene amount of hot, fragrant liquid all over his cock and the floor below.

You were lost, adrift in a sea of bliss and pleasure and rapture, and still, he didn't stop. He fucked you through your climax, his cock plunging deeper and deeper until the only thing that mattered was the feeling of him inside you, filling you, claiming you, owning you.

He came with a guttural groan, his cock pulsing and twitching as he painted your inner walls with his seed. It was filthy, depraved, and still, you couldn't help but moan at the sensation of him flooding your cunt. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, dripping down your thighs, but still, you clung to him, unwilling to let him go.

You lay there in a spent heap, panting and trembling, your whole body flushed and sweat-damp. The only sounds were your labored breaths, and even those were beginning to even out as you recovered from the intensity of your shared release.

Gojo was still inside you, his cock softening and your walls still fluttering around him in the aftershocks. You could feel the sticky remnants of his cum leaking out, coating your thighs, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You felt utterly and completely fucked out, and there was no other place you'd rather be.

With a low groan, Gojo finally pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and used in the best possible way. His hand stroked along your spine, the gesture strangely tender and possessive at the same time.

"What did I say, pet? Perfect, just like I knew you'd be," he murmured, his lips tracing a path along your neck. "You took me so well, so perfectly. I could stay here forever, buried deep inside you."

You shivered, a fresh wave of desire coiling low in your abdomen despite the fact that he had just fucked you senseless. "Then do it," you whispered, the words shaped in a sultry invitation. "Take me again, sensei."

His answering chuckle was dark and wicked, sending a frisson of anticipation and desire rippling down your spine. "My sweet, greedy little slut," he murmured, his teeth scraping against the delicate curve of your ear. "We'll have plenty of time for that. For now, I have a lesson to finish teaching."

Your breath caught, a fresh shiver of arousal coiling low in your belly. You couldn't see his face, but you could hear the wicked, teasing smirk in his voice. "What was it you said earlier, pet? That I would be using every hole until you were stuffed full of my cum?"

The words sent a shudder rippling through you, and already, you could feel yourself growing wet and aching for him once more. "Yes," you breathed, barely daring to believe your fantasies would come true.

"Then it's a good thing I've got all day to show you exactly what that means, isn't it, pet?"

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru

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stevenose · 1 day

Text

misty (18+)

a cowboy!steve fic for @moodringeyes - thank you for always supporting me, finch!! 🫶🏻

summary: you haven’t seen your cowboy in days and it’s time for some good tender lovin’ 🫶🏻

contains: cowboy!steve x reader; reader with a vagina and breasts; historic!au; sappy gooey gushy sex; comfort; piv; first time ‘i love you’s; soft dom!steve

authors note: this fic follows along with the lonesome crowded west series (aka, the canon where reader owns a tavern). we are rly fast forwarding here in their relationship but u deserve to be told by a soft cowboy that he loves u <3 thank u again finch for supporting me and cowboy!steve!!!!

You hear his boots clicking against the hardwood. Must have used the spare he found when he first started tomenting you to get in. You’d been ignoring him the last few days, and not exactly for any good reason. You’ve just been exhausted. It’s been so hard juggling everything. And when things are hard, it’s hard for you to take care of yourself.

It’s hard to believe that part of taking care of yourself was seeing your cowboy.

But you’d been remiss, not answering the notes he’d left slipped under your door. The ones where he told you he missed you, that he wanted to see you, that he was worried. You cringe as he approaches, expecting a scolding or perhaps a bit of teasing.

“What’s goin’ on with you?”

He says it so soft. It still startles you. Steve can be such a sweetheart when he wants but it still finds a way to surprise you. Especially when he’s caked in dirt, hands calloused, sometimes bruised and a little bloody.

You sniffle, the rag you’d been using to dry dishes moving towards your cheek. “Nothin’.”

“You scared me. Thought somethin’ bad happened to ya.”

You shake your head, tears re-wetting the glass below.

“Can ya look at me, darlin’?”

You try to level your breathing but it’s really no use. Your cheeks are already ruddy and tear stained. You turn, a look of defeat tugging at your features, your arms folding up over your chest defensively.

You really missed him. Your heart hurts when you see him for the first time in days with his lips downturned and eyes soft. “C’mere,” he beckons, and you don’t hesitate, striding towards him and throwing yourself into his big, strong arms. He smells sweet like hay and soap, must have cleaned up before coming to see you. You melt into him and exhale shakily while he moves a hand up to stroke your hair.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asks. Kisses the top of your forehead, making you warm. “What is it, huh? Someone givin’ you a hard time?”

You shake your head, gritting your teeth to hold back a sob. After a moment, you whisper, “I’m just so tired.”

“I know,” he coos. Rakes his fingers through your hair. “I know, peach.”

“I missed you.”

He laughs softly. “D’you mean it?”

You look up at him, vision blurry from your tears. “Steve,” you nearly wail, almost insulted at the implication that you didn’t. “I thought about you every goddamn day!”

“I know, I know,” he shushes, wiping your tears away with a calloused thumb. “Settle down, darlin’. Know you’re always missin’ me, how can ya not, huh?”

You frown up at him. “I really did.”

Steve sighs, nodding, looking into your eyes for a long, drawn-out moment. “I love you,” he says. It’s the second time he’s ever said it.

“I love you,” you whisper. It’s the first time you’ve ever said it back.

You watch his face flush, his eyes gleaming, a laugh slipping past his lips. He cups your face in his big, warm hands and presses his lips to yours. He’s soft and tender and you melt into him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him closer to you.

“Wanna go home,” you murmur against his lips.

“Trigger’s outside,” he mumbles back. “Let me take ya.”

You melt into him, arms wrapped around his waist on the back of his horse. The nights get cold here, but Steve’s still warm. If it weren’t for the promise of more of him, you’d fall asleep and let him carry you inside. But you’d like to stay up, like to be near him, like to see how much he missed you. Because you know he’ll show you. He always does.

You scoff when he takes you back to his, the little dilapidated, run down shack on the edge of his boss’s property.

“Don’t mean to kidnap ya,” he says. “Just wanna have you to myself a little longer, take care of ya.”

You nod. “‘m not opposed.”

Steve snakes a hand downwards to lay atop of yours, resting on his stomach. “I’d opine you missed bein’ takin’ care of, huh?”

“More than you’d know.”

“That’s the thing,” he says, voice rich and tender. “I missed takin’ care of you, too.”

His bed isn’t ever exactly comfortable, but as you lay on it tonight, you relax into it. Waiting patiently for Steve to tie Trigger up before making his way back inside. He lights a lamp, the dim glow golden and safe.

“Did you undress?” he asks, tugging at the buttons of his shirt.

You pull back his quilt to answer him. He stares for a long moment, gobsmacked, hungry for you. Then he’s quick to rip off his own clothes and climb on top of you, his weight pushing you further into his hay-filled mattress.

“I missed you so much,” he almost whines.

You take him in - his chestnut eyes, slowly darkening; the freckles littering his neck and shoulders, going down where you can’t see anymore; his long brunette hair highlighted by days in the sun, tousled from his work; his broad nose; his soft pink lips. To think you’d ever have hated him, to have been anything other than his - wonderfully, irrevocably his - well, it’s hard to consider.

“I missed you more,” you breathe. “Show me.”

His lips are back on yours. Just as soft and tender as ever. He props himself up with his elbow and lets the other hand run up your side gently. You sigh, eyes fluttering shut, as much as you’d like to drink him in.

“Can ya say it for me again?”

“I missed you.”

“No,” he corrects, nipping at your bottom lip. “Wanna hear you say you love me.”

You blink up at him, eyes readjusting to the dim light. He’s so handsome, pleading at you with his pretty eyes.

“I love you.”

“And - do you mean that?”

You nod slowly. “I do.” Your voice softens. “Do you?”

“Always have,” he says.

You stare at each other for a moment longer before making the mutual, unspoken decision to discuss this later. Steve ducks his head down to press kisses against your jawline, sucking at the sweet spots on your neck. Your body reacts immediately, growing needy, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Wanna take my time with you,” he murmurs, his tongue flicking out against your skin. “Ain’t got much of a lesson for ya tonight.”

Your stomach flips, fingers finding purchase on his broad shoulders. You roll your head back into his pillows to give him better access to your throat.

“You’ve been so good, ain’t ya? Pretty babe, takin’ care of things all by yourself.”

You nod, involuntarily pouting.

Steve’s teeth press into your neck for a moment, making you gasp, before he lets up. “It’s so hard bein’ good, ain’t it? So much easier to be bad.”

Tears prick at your eyes. “I don’t want to be bad anymore.”

He laughs a little, shaking his head while he moves down your body. “Know you’ll have an attitude change tomorrow, peach, but I’ll enjoy you bein’ sweet while I can.”

He kisses down the swell of your breast slowly, making you wait for him with baited breath.

“So goddamn beautiful,” he says, breath fanning against your nipple, making it hard. “Thought about you every day out in the field, ‘bout your sharp mouth and pretty tits and smart brain.”

He kisses your nipple, watches through his lashes when your mouth drops open.

“Missed me, did ya? Can’t do this to yourself, huh, angel? Need me t’come make it all better.”

Steve finally wraps his lips around it and you sigh, squirming already. “Please,” you whimper, hips arching off the sheets when he bites down a little.

“What do you need?”

“You,” you whimper. “Inside, wanna feel close.”

He sighs, pulling back. “Y’know, I really wanted to spend some time with these….”

“You still can - just - both, at once, please?”

“Really must’ve missed me,” he says, smiling, taking your thighs in his warm grip and pushing your legs up. “Bein’ so nice all of a sudden.”

Steve gets you in a mating press, thighs resting on your chest - it appears he really couldn’t spend some time with them if this is how he wanted you. He takes his cock and glides it up your slick folds, moaning all the while. “Oh, sweetheart, I missed this pussy….”

He doesn’t enter you - just fucks himself against your folds, the tip of his dick catching against your clit. You’re panting under him, holding your legs to your chest, feeling every single inch of him slide against you.

“Wish you could see this,” he groans, voice deep, grumbly. “We look so good together.”

You nod. I know, I know, I know.

He pulls his eyes away from where you’re meeting to look at you, eyes dark. “You’re mine, ain’t ya?”

You keep nodding. “I’m yours.”

“Good,” he moans, finally pressing himself against your entrance. “Always gonna be, yeah?”

He presses into you and you moan loudly. Can’t help yourself. It feels so good, being stretched open on him, his heat filling you up. He takes your legs from you and slides them over his shoulders, pushing you into his bed in the process. It’s claustrophobic, but so good, so close to him, full of him. You stare up at him with a gaping jaw and he laughs breathlessly, brows furrowed in pleasure.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he grits out. “Hard workin’ pussy just grippin’ me, shit.”

You laugh at his words, but stop abruptly when his hips snap back, and then in. He knocks the breath out of you, makes you dizzy, his cock filling up all of the space you have to offer.

“Jesus,” you breathe, “Christ.”

“This is the quietest you’ve ever been on my cock,” he drawls. “Come on, let go for me.”

A rough thumb comes down to play with your clit while he thrusts deep and slow inside of you. You’re writhing, gasping, squeezing his shoulders with your ankles. You’re properly bent in half, letting Steve hit every angle you’ve needed him to find. You finally wail, eyes squeezing shut, hands gripping at the sheets beside you.

“Uh-huh,” Steve pants. He’s not going very fast but holding back is such a chore. He equally wants to fuck you stupid and take his time with you. “There y’go, let’s hear it.”

“Steve!”

“So beautiful,” he rambles. “So goddamn pretty and smart and workin’ so fuckin’ hard. Gonna make sure y-you never work a day in your - shit, in your life. Ever. Again.”

He punctuates it with harsh thrusts that make your body jolt. “I love you,” you cry, tears of pleasure rimming your lash line.

“Love you. Love you so much, I mean it.”

He leans down to kiss you, thumb still working hard at your clit, the head of his thick cock pressing against your sweet spot. You can hardly kiss back, crying out from how good it feels, your teeth clashing against his. “Oh m-my God, shit!”

You’re so close to release, feeling the band in your stomach growing tight, threatening to snap and leave you stupid. Your eyes cross involuntarily while Steve keeps whispering sweet nothings to you, coaxing you to let go. “I've got you,” he mumbles, “let me feel that pretty pussy clench on my cock while you cum.”

You’re practically screaming when it finally happens, despite Steve trying to shush you with his mouth. It feels so good, he feels so good. You feel so safe and complete with him on top of you, warmth washing over your body from your head to your toes. And Steve’s not very far behind, either, groaning your name and pushing himself in to the hilt before spilling inside of you.

You both pant, breathing in each other’s air before Steve finally pulls back. He kisses your shaking legs, massaging them as he lets them off of his shoulders to rest. He smiles at you when you open your eyes, still a little fucked out, euphoric.

“You feelin’ okay?” he asks, reaching up to swipe a pleasured tear from your cheek.

You nod, relaxed, in love.

#steve harrington smut #stevenose posts #cowboy!steve #ns/fw #steve x reader #love u finch!!!

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nahoney22 · 3 days

Note

Congrats!!!!! I’ve been loving your stories for so long and I’m so glad to be able to read your stories on this journey with the bad batch.

May I request the reader x bb member where the reader needs to use their safe word and the batcher’s reaction? I need some soft fluff in preparation for the series finale.

Lots of love! Thank you.

The Safe Word*** 🌊

The Bad Batch X Gender Neutral Reader

authors note: sorry for the wait! Hope this is okay - I went down the BDSM route as that is when safe words are typically used so I hope that’s okay with you? And I hope there’s plenty of fluff and comfort for you after as there is some angst. I hope you enjoyed the finale 🩵

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Uses of a safe word, explicit sexual content and language, brief mentions BDSM/bondage play such as shibari, knifeplay, spanking, dirty talk, degradation kink, light choking. There is angst but followed up comfort and aftercare, discussions of past negative relationships, established relationships with each of the batch.

NSFW under the cut:

Echo - Havoc

You and Echo had never considered using a safe word until recently when things started to spice up in the bedroom. But, settling on "havoc" felt right.

One night as Echo nestled beside you, his lips grazing your neck, kissing and sucking hour soft skin, his hand explores beneath your clothes as you found yourself bound to the headrest. It was a recent experiment for both of you. Yet, a sense of unease crept in as the loss of movement weighed on you, a feeling you hadn't quite anticipated.

The bounds were tight, restricting you of even wriggling your fingers and a surge of panic builds in you.

"Echo, havoc," you utter urgently, your voice tinged with uncertainty, making him withdraw instantly, concern flickering in his wide golden eyes.

"Is everything okay?" he asks softly, his gaze searching yours.

"It's my hands, I can't..." you falter, your heart racing as you gesture to your restrained wrists. Without hesitation, Echo releases you, peppering apologetic kisses on your wrists.

"Was it too much?" he inquires gently, his voice laced with worry, as you take a moment to steady your breathing, grateful for his understanding.

You catch your breath and nod, a little embarrassed by your reaction. "Sorry, I thought I was ready."

He smiles in understanding and tenderly kisses your forehead. "And that’s alright. We don’t need to do that again if you don’t want to. I want to respect your boundaries," he coos, his voice reassuring as he allows you to snuggle into his side, the warmth of his embrace easing away your worries.

You were so glad to be with someone as gentle and sweet as Echo.

Hunter - Marauder

It was you who initiated it first, drawn to the mesmerising way Hunter twirled his viroblade. And so you suggested the possibility of incorporating it into your alone time with him.

Seeing the excitement flicker in his eyes, you found yourself in his bunk that night, bared to the skin, watching as he manoeuvred the blade with practiced ease. As he pressed its edge against your thigh, the cold sensation sent shivers down your spine, your focus fixated on the blade rather than on him.

Your breath hitched, fixated on the blade's movements rather than on him. He hovered over you, the blade gliding up your waist until it grazed your cheek, the sensation causing an unexpected discomfort.

"Marauder," you say quickly, a safe word you and Hunter had for each other from day one almost, watching as he discards the blade in an instant, his eyes softening with concern.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks gently, his voice filled with genuine worry as he focuses solely on you.

You shake your head, silently apologizing to him. "Sorry, I just... I freaked out for a moment there."

He settles beside you, draping the blanket over you to preserve your dignity, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. "I sensed there was something wrong, your heart wasn’t beating as it usually does," he says, his tone filled with a hint of self-reproach for not noticing it sooner. "Let’s watch a holomovie instead, yeah?" he suggests, wanting to shift your focus to put you at ease.

Grateful for his understanding, you intertwine your fingers with his as he sets up a device for the two of you to watch something. Maybe you'll revisit knifeplay someday, but for now, you're content to enjoy a quiet moment together.

Wrecker - Meiloorun

Typically a gentle giant, Wrecker was particularly attentive in the bedroom. But tonight, something changed.

With your face buried in the pillow and fingers gripping the sheets, you felt a sharp sting as Wrecker delivered a firm spank to your arse. "You've been naughty, haven't ya?" he teased, his dirty talk adding to the arousal.

While playful spanking was nothing new between you two, Wrecker seemed to get carried away, delivering a harder blow than usual. As his hand made contact again, you couldn't help but sob out, uttering "Meiloorun," the safe word to halt his actions.

It took a moment for Wrecker to register your plea, muffled by the pillow but he quickly shifted you onto your back and holds you close. "Kriff, I'm so sorry. Was I too hard?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

Though your eyes stung with tears, they didn't reflect the distress evident in Wrecker's. "Just a little rougher than usual, sweetie," you said softly, cupping his cheek. "I’m fine."

"I hurt ya," he sighed, taking your hand in his. "I've never hurt ya before."

"It just stung, Wrecker, that's all," you reassured him, allowing his arms to envelop you protectively. "And you stopped as soon as I said our safe word. I appreciate that."

Wrecker holds you for a little while, whispering soothing things in your ear as you did the same with him as you both feel grateful for another. You knew it was not intentional and you reminded Wrecker of this. Next time, he knows to be more careful.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Wrecker.”

Tech - Tibanna

When you first started dating Tech, you never imagined he had such intriguing desires—like the one he was demonstrating on his device: Shibari.

"I believe you will look divine constricted like this as I make you succumb to me," his words dripped with lust, his eyes intense behind his goggles, sending shivers down your spine.

And so, you let him. While you and Tech had explored various kinky activities, nothing quite like this had been on the agenda. With the others away for hours, he instructed you to strip bare and sit in the pilot's seat as he skillfully threaded the rope through his hands.

"Let us begin, shall we?" he said, starting with a simple kiss before expertly binding you to the chair with intricate patterns. But, as he worked, something shifted within you. The mood didn't feel right, overwhelming you completely. Though he looked at you like a delectable treat, you felt like a trapped creature, desperately searching for a way out.

So, you uttered the safe word.

"Tibanna.” You breathed shakily as Tech was about to secure your feet to the base of the chair. He paused, looking up at you.

"Do you wish to be free?"

"Yes," you managed to say with a swallowed nod. That was all it took for him to grab a tool and release your most restricted parts, allowing you to move freely once again.

You stand, legs trembling beneath you as you hastily reach for your robe, wrapping it around yourself to conceal the rope marks now etched into your skin. Tech's gaze follows your movements, his expression a mix of concern and uncertainty, unsure of how to respond to the sudden change in mood.

“Darling,” he begins tentatively, closing the distance between you and gently placing a hand on your shoulder as you turn away, your back to him, “are you alright?”

Your response is barely audible, a muttered apology escaping your lips as you avoid meeting his eyes, feeling the weight of disappointment settle in the air.

“Nothing has been spoiled. I still have you,” he reassures you as he wraps his arms around you, drawing you close. “I never want you to feel uncomfortable with our endeavours. Perhaps this can be something we revisit in the future when you're ready. But for now, how about we step outside and admire the stars? They're rather impressive tonight.”

His words wash over you, a soothing balm to your nerves, and you nod in agreement, grateful for his understanding. As you lean into his embrace, you feel a sense of relief flood through you, knowing that he prioritises your comfort above all else.

Crosshair - Tooka

Crosshair was always a man of mystery to you, yet his cloudy aura somehow making him irresistible. It took a while, but the two of you made it work and got together. He was sweet on you, not even shy to show how he felt in front of his brothers around you. But in the bedroom, that was a whole different story.

When you suggested having a ‘safe word,’ he questioned why ‘stop’ and ‘no’ weren’t good enough, but he let you pick a word anyway, even if it was ‘tooka.’ He just never expected you to use it.

His hand tightened around your throat, eyes ablaze with lust as he pressed his body against yours in a rhythmic pattern, sending shivers down your spine. “Such a good slut, aren’t you?” he grunted, his fingers gently squeezing your windpipe as he moved against you.

Dirty talk was normal while choking and degradation was a silent kink of yours, but in the heat of things there was a word he used that made you gasp, a sudden wave of panic washing over you as you felt vulnerable.

“Tooka. Tooka. Tooka,” you repeated quickly, gasping for a breath you didn’t know had been taken from you as he released you completely, his eyes furrowing in concern as you almost backed away from him.

He was silent for a moment, watching you, trying to process what he could have done wrong. Then, he remembered a conversation you had after a drink or two, where you opened up about certain past relationships.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he lay beside you, giving you a moment before taking your hand in his. “I… I didn’t mean what I said. I’d never hurt you.”

You blinked away your tears and smiled weakly at him. “I know, Cross,” you whispered back, “just… lay with me, hm? Let’s not talk about it.”

He debated if that was the right course of action, knowing you were vulnerable, but he said no more.

He debated if that was the right course of action, knowing you were vulnerable, but he said no more. He draped a blanket over the two of you and allowed you to nestle into his side, rubbing soothing circles into your back, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance as you both sought solace in each other's embrace. “I love you,”

You smile silently and meet his gaze. “I know.”

You had never felt so loved and cared for since being with him.

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka

@theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone

@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog

@pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87

@ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @jedi-hawkins

@tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur r @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @lulalovez

#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #bad batch #tbb x reader #the bad batch headcanons #tbb #Hunter x reader #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #wrecker x reader #echo x reader #the bad batch

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luminiamore · 2 days

Text

cult leader geto x black jujustu sorcerer reader

a/n: based on that lil snippet ^ decided to make an actual post ⊂(￣▽￣)⊃

warnings: heavy exhibitionism, cockwarming, he’s such a gentle man, mentions of suicide, joker and harley type beat without the domestic violence, hints of yandere, ya’ll worship each other and therefore people worship you, married asf with kids, creampie

2.1k words.

masterlist

Suguru’s interest in you has been unusually intense since he was a student at Jujustu Tech. Without a doubt, you were beautiful. But unlike those around him, you were also quiet, calm, and collected. His approach to you was pure curiosity, without any malice. He was curious about you, your thoughts, and your mannerisms.

However, you rarely paid him any mind, thinking he was just trying to increase the number of girls he sleeps with. So, he made it possible for him to coincidentally be everywhere you were; you surely couldn’t ignore him that way.

You were getting some mochi downtown? That’s crazy. He was just picking up some for his best friend at the same spot. He did tell you he really likes sweets. You were shopping for a new pair of shoes at the mall? Realizing his pair is worn out, he’s checking out the section opposite yours. He was there to end your fight when you got tossed around by some special grade, so you couldn’t even go on a mission by yourself. He was impossible to ignore.

He couldn’t understand exactly what it was, but he wanted to be around you more than he cared to admit. Despite you being a first-grade sorcerer, he would use the excuse of “protecting” you. His group, Shoko, Utahime, or even the proclaimed strongest, Gojo Satoru, weren’t close to you. Until he defected, he deliberately kept you away from them. They only knew you as the girl he loves— his words.

You eventually fell for Suguru, and you fell hard. He didn’t catch you, but he fell with you, for you. Suguru made it a point to call you whenever possible, even though you were not part of the Riko mission. Upon his return, you felt devastated as he was distressed by the possibility of losing his best friend. Distressed at the possibility of not seeing you again. That frightened him the most. You witnessed him losing himself, having sleepless nights, and even attempting to end his life. You were always there for him, fixing him tea and listening to his ideas.

Being with Suguru was something you became open to, and with the way you were always around him, everyone thought you were. He never put a title on.. whatever the nature of your relationship was. But you never really saw him with any other girl except for you, and he would take care of any sorcerer who tried to get close to you. At some point, you recall asking him why he does it, and the only response he gave you was,

“You have me.”

You didn’t bother to ask what that meant, thinking that he would give you another cryptic answer or simply send you a sleazy smile. But in more ways than one, you realized that you did have Suguru. He was a person who provided. He never missed an opportunity to care for you, buy you your favorite things unexpectedly, take you out for dinner, and even carry you like a princess just because.

You never inquired about the reason; you just offered him a kiss on the cheek as a gesture of thanks. Suguru liked it when you did that. Your soft, glossy lips always had a nice feel on his skin. The basis of your relationship changed when he asked you to kiss him on the lips as a thank you instead.

“R-Really?”

His ears are pierced by your soft voice. Your beautiful eyes were always on him as he sat on the flatbed in your dorm. You had the box in your hands of the necklace that you had been admiring while you and Suguru were passing by a jewelry store. The price tag was a whopping $6,000, so it wasn’t cheap. That’s why you walked away after staring for about ten seconds. He didn’t, though. The next morning, he made a single phone call, and the necklace you were eyeing made its way to your doorstep that same day.

“Really.” He grasps your gentle hands with both of his hands, dropping the box carelessly on your bed.

“I never want to force you to do anything.” You had a genuine belief that you would follow Suguru to the end of the earth. You were steadfast in your devotion to him, even before he became a cult leader. You have reason to believe that you were his first devotee. Your love for him was undeniable, which is why you didn’t hesitate to bring his lips to yours for a gentle peck.

Suguru didn’t anticipate the sweetness of your lips on that day, nor did he anticipate how he would crave the sensation of them every second. He was unaware of how addictive you could be because, honestly, you two didn’t stop at just a peck. One turned into two, two turned into five, and five turned into an impromptu make-out session on your mattress.

It was the first night that he showed you pleasure beneath the layers of your clothes. The first night, he showed you exactly what you do to him. The long-haired man showed you ecstasy that was unmatched by any other. Before anything else, he prepared you by slobbering all over your pink clit and fingering you so hard, so deep, that you squirted at least three times on his awaiting face.

And when he finally forced his dick inside your wet hole... It was like a paradise on earth, you swear. You could feel every vein of his cock brushing against the deepest parts of your core. He reaches so deep, his cock basically drilling into your bruised cervix. His drooling lips sucking at your perfectly manicured french tipped toes. Every time he fucked you, which was almost every day, it was like this. They all carried out the same action, whether it was a slow thrust or a quick, desperate one.

He’s grown addicted to the feel of your cunt, to the faces you make when he’s fucking you. Suguru has tainted you and transformed you into a being who would do anything for him. He never forgot to express that you did the same for him. The day he killed his parents, he came to you with two little girls, scared shitless and clinging onto his kāṣāya garment over the black yukata robes. And when you asked him what happened, he only told you,

“There are our children now. Don’t worry, we will have one of our own soon. I promise, my love.”

You knew about Suguru’s plans to eradicate almost 95% of the world’s population, but you didn’t think he would actually go through with it. You should have left and probably ran away from this man when he showed you what he did. But you couldn’t, too devoted and blinded by love. So, you followed him and watched him create an operation where people worshipped his entire being. That’s what should have been the case.

Suguru was never without you. He made his followers kiss the ground you walked on, just as they worshiped him. You were given respect, love, and even admiration. For almost ten years, your life consisted of being taken care of by your lover, being devoted to humans, and taking care of your four children. Suguru did end up giving you the children he promised you. He was content with his life as it was, and honestly, he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. His happiness was made possible by you.

Take today as an example, it marks the anniversary of Suguru putting a shiny blood diamond on your finger. The temple’s blue curtains are being blown by the wind while the birds chirp. Your bare body rested on Suguru’s lap, facing forward. His cock impaled you while you were sitting on him, creating a stream of pussy juice that dripped onto the floor. Your soft thighs were spread wide over his legs, restricting you from any movement. Such an intimate position should undoubtedly be shared only by the two, but it wasn’t.

Far from it, in fact. There were 20– maybe 50 people kneeling with gifts in their hands, in front of your lover, in front of you. You were too consumed to pay attention to them, too full to do anything but whine out beautiful cries that echoed around the whole compound. It was impossible for anyone to not know what was happening.

For some time now, he’s been laying his cock inside of you and refusing to move. Suguru’s view was of your sparkling back, soft, and with a tattoo of his name if he shifted his gaze slightly lower. He didn’t have to see you to know how beautiful you look right now, and of course, he didn’t have an issue telling you.

“Such a gorgeous girl. Gets you wet knowing these people would die to fuck you, doesn’t it?” He squeezes your fat tits, pinching one of your nipples, causing you to let out a squeal. He continues on with a raspy voice,

“But they can’t, can they? And they never will. Why is that, sweetheart?”

You whine, grasping at his thighs because you just want him to move. The pressure of his fat cock inside you makes you desperate for the intense fucking that only he can give you. But your man doesn’t want that as an answer, he wants to hear your angelic voice, so he slaps your clit as punishment.

“B-Because m’yours!” It seems you said the right answer, or maybe Suguru was finally getting as desperate as you are because he slowly starts moving his dick in and out of your tight cunt. He takes his time moving his hand so that the next visitor can come forward and present their gifts. Just to keep up with his image. He doesn’t bother looking at them, believing that anything that’s not from you is a waste. Utter trash.

He kisses the side of your cheek and whispers in your ear, tone desperate and pleading, “All mine. Tell me you love me, and only me. Please, I need to hear it.”

He paces himself slowly inside of you to avoid ruining you in front of these ’ monkeys.’ You lean your head back against his neck, your nails tugging at the hair you love so much. His throat tightens with a groan when at the action, fuck. You really don’t know what you do to him.

Despite being pushed a little past your limit, you manage to steady your voice so Suguru can hear your following words clearly, “Love you, baby. I’ll only ever love you.”

Regardless of how many times you tell him this, it always manages to make Suguru’s heart race. He can’t believe you’re all his. Such a goddess that you are. Fuck, he could cum right here, right now, inside your dripping cunt. Since he flushed out your birth control after your first pregnancy, you wouldn’t need much to get pregnant. His brain is racing with the prospect of your tits swelling with milk and your belly rounding to carry his offspring.

He groans when the image runs through his mind, and now Suguru has a new mission. “What about another baby, hm? I’ll take care of you, just like I did the last two times. Won’t have you lift a finger, sweetheart. Please.”

His pace speeds up a bit, and the thought of seeing you like that is causing his mind to reel. Your tight pussy squeezing around him was as if you were attempting to milk his cock for all it’s worth. On the other hand, you were anticipating your lover would say something like this. You were nodding your head in his shoulder before he finished his sentence.

“P-Please! Whatever- Anything you w-want.” You tremble, completely ignoring the people still kneeling in front of you. Close enough to see, but just far enough so your juices won’t reach them. They are not worthy of any inch— any spec of your sweet wetness. You hear Suguru’s whimper as his finger sneakily reaches your swollen clit, gently rubbing tight circles around it.

“That’s what I love to hear, baby. I love you so fucking much, so fucking much. I love you, I love you-” You moan out, your pussy squeezing infinitely tighter around him as you squirt all over the empty space between you and your devotees. The feeling causes Suguru to release a deep moan as his balls churn and his thick cum pushes past your womb. Fuck, it’s so much. There’s no doubt that it reached your uterus.

Your lover isn’t convinced, though, so he immediately stands holding you in a bridal position. He walks past the crowd, leaving them there while his cock and cum are still out and dripping from your sore pussy.

“Think I need to pump you full again. Make sure you really get pregnant, yeah?” The only thing you can do is nod and mentally prepare yourself for the night ahead of you.

#geto suguru #jjk x black reader #lumiwrites #jjk smut #geto x black reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x black reader smut #jujutsu geto #geto smut #geto x reader #geto x y/n #jjk geto #jjk fanfic #fanfic #geto x you

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minbells · 21 hours

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Men who are academically gifted, very smart and calculated, but somewhat clueless when it comes to love. He has a good reason for that though; nobody before you had caught his attention. Now that he’s found you, his heart is beating faster, cheeks heating up, fingers itching to reach out and hold you. His normally cool demeanour is crumbling. Did you cast a spell on him? He has a lot to learn about romance, and the good thing is that you basically have a completely blank canvas to paint on. He didn’t pick on any bad habits and he’s already a perfect gentleman.

He would do anything for you, he might not know much about being in a relationship, but he adores you. He is eager to learn about affection, dating, kissing, establishing a routine with you, loving you. He’s an act of service kind of person, eager to please and care for you. He’s the one reminding you of your appointments, making sure you eat enough and stay hydrated, taking care of you when you’re sick, helping you study or work on whatever projects that you have. Whenever he comes over, he cleans your dishes without even a second thought, and you felt bad at first to subject him to your messes until you realized that he loves doing those things for you.

He quickly learns how and when to hold your hand, what kind of dates you like, the pet names that make your heart skips a beat, how to kiss you until you’re breathless and wanting more. He’s also a very good listener, which is actually impressive since he seemed mostly socially clueless when you first met him. He takes an interest in all the things you like. He does research on your favourite music groups, he catches up on TV shows you enjoy so he can understand what you’re talking about when you mention them, and he tries to learn the recipes of your favourite meals. He has a whole folder in his notes app dedicated to gift ideas and things he wants to remember about you — your drink order, favourite restaurant, the flowers you like, the brand of a bag you were eyeing last time he went to the mall with you. He doesn’t want to miss anything.

He’s become completely attached to you and he’s so touch starved that he takes each and every opportunity to be near you and hold you in some way, usually burying his nose in your neck. He takes note of your sweet perfume then, mentally adding it to the list of things he knows about you, right next to the flavour of chapstick he tasted on your lips the last time he kissed you.

fushiguro megumi, todoroki shoto, shinso hitoshi, tsukishima kei, kozume kenma, armin arlert, tomioka giyuu, hayakawa aki, + all your favs.

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its-avalon-08 · 2 days

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so seb and y/n broke up after 2011, super messy break up, alot of tears, and they have never spoken after that. she switched jobs into mercedes. he has a panic attack and is gasping for breath and keeps asking for y/n. y/n comes running and seb breaks down sobbing. note the date is the same as the day they broke up. he confesses that he messed up and is so sorry. Thanks! love ur blog <333333333333333333

🍂🍂🍂🍂 one of my fav 🍂🍂🍂🍂

breathe baby breathe (sv5)

The air in the Red Bull garage hung heavy. The tension wasn't new - ever since 2010, ever since the spectacularly messy break-up that left a trail of shattered trophies and tear-stained pit walls, Seb and Y/N existed in an uneasy parallel universe within the F1 circus. He, a stoic German with haunted blue eyes, remained with Red Bull. She, a steely Brit with a heart encased in ice, had taken a high-profile switch to Mercedes.

Qualifying had been a disaster for Seb. A gearbox issue had left him stranded on track, his championship dreams spiraling down like a flaming meteor. Now, back in the garage, a cold sweat slicked his palms. His vision swam, the faces of mechanics blurring into an incomprehensible mess. His chest tightened, a cold vice squeezing the air from his lungs. He tried to take a breath, but it came out in a ragged gasp.

Panic clawed its way up his throat. This wasn't right. This wasn't just disappointment. His heart hammered a frantic tattoo against his ribs, each beat a deafening boom in his head. The air, thick with the smell of burnt rubber and ozone, offered no solace. He fumbled for his water bottle, the plastic slick with sweat in his trembling hand.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. He stumbled back, his vision going dark at the edges. A primal fear, a terror he hadn't felt since he was a child lost in the supermarket, seized him. A strangled cry escaped his lips – not a word, just a raw sound of terror.

Mark Webber, ever the teammate, noticed Seb's distress first. "Seb! You alright?" The concern in Mark's voice barely penetrated the fog of panic muddling Seb's thoughts. He needed Y/N. It was a nonsensical thought, a desperate plea from a drowning man clutching at a straw. But it was the only lifeline he could grasp.

"Y/N," he rasped, his voice a pathetic croak. Mark's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The name had never passed Seb's lips in all these years. But right now, reason had abandoned him.

Mark didn't hesitate. He knew the history, the bitter fallout, but in this moment, all he saw was a teammate in distress. "Y/N!" he bellowed, his voice cracking through the tense silence of the garage.

Y/N was huddled in the Mercedes garage, dissecting the telemetry data from Lewis's qualifying run. The news of Seb's car trouble had filtered through, a bittersweet pang twisting in her gut. She'd long buried the ghost of their relationship, or so she thought.

Mark's urgent yell shattered her focus. "Y/N!" It echoed through the corridor, laced with a raw panic that sent a jolt through her. Memories, both bitter and sweet, flooded her mind. Ignoring the bewildered stares of her colleagues, she surged towards Red Bull's garage, a primal fear urging her forward.

The sight that greeted her ripped the carefully constructed wall around her heart clean open. Seb, usually the epitome of stoicism, was a crumpled mess on the floor. His face, drained of color, was contorted in fear, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His normally steely blue eyes were wide and frantic, searching for something, someone.

The past dissolved. This wasn't about their break-up, not anymore. This was about a human being in distress. Ignoring the initial shock, she dropped to her knees beside him, her professional training kicking in. "Seb, hey, focus on me," she said, her voice firm but gentle. He didn't respond, his gaze flitting around the room like a trapped animal.

Panic threatened to engulf her again, but she forced it down. Taking a deep breath, she mirrored it, holding his hand and speaking slowly, deliberately. "breathe baby breathe for me Seb. In with me, slow and steady." He flinched at the touch of her hand, a flicker of recognition crossing his face, then quickly masked by raw fear.

He tried, or rather, his body tried. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle. Seeing his plight, she knelt closer, gently pushing a stray strand of hair off his damp forehead. It was a simple gesture, born of instinct, and it seemed to anchor him.

"That's it," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. "Slow breaths. You're alright, Seb. You're with me." As the words left her lips, a strangled sob ripped through him, shaking his entire frame. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill, but he squeezed his eyes shut, a desperate attempt to hold them back.

Y/N's heart ached. The sight of his vulnerability shattered the years of built-up resentment. Without a thought, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. His trembling body crumpled against hers, the final dam breaking. Sob after wracking sob escaped his lips, raw and unfiltered.

He didn't care if she saw. In that moment, all he needed was a human anchor, a safe harbor in the storm of his panic. And for the first time in years, Y/N felt the familiar pull of protectiveness surge through her. The past was still there, a shadow lurking at the edges, but right now, all that mattered was calming the storm raging within him.

The tremors in Seb's body gradually subsided, his sobs muffled against her shoulder. His grip on her arms tightened, a silent plea for comfort. Y/N held him close, stroking his hair with a gentleness that surprised even her. The scent of his familiar racing cologne, a mix of leather and adrenaline, flooded her senses, a potent reminder of a past she couldn't fully outrun.

"Y/N," he finally rasped, his voice hoarse. Shame laced each word, a stark contrast to the bravado he usually wore. "I miss you. So damn much." The words hung heavy in the air, a confession ripped bare by his vulnerability.

A lump formed in Y/N's throat. Part of her wanted to pull away, to retreat back into the icy fortress she'd built around her heart. But the raw pain in his voice, the vulnerability etched on his face, held her captive.

"You messed up, Seb," she said, her voice barely a whisper. It wasn't a question, but a simple statement, a truth they both acknowledged.

He flinched, a choked sob escaping his lips. "I know. I know, and I regret it every damn day. Even my parents yell about it. They keep saying I threw away the best thing that ever happened to me." His voice cracked, raw with self-loathing.

Y/N's breath hitched. She knew his parents adored her, a stark contrast to the strained relationship he had with his father at the time. The revelation stung, a reminder of what they'd lost.

A hesitant breath escaped her lips. "Seb," she started, unsure how to proceed.

He cut her off, a tremor running through his voice. "And the worst part? Even after all this time... I still love you, Y/N. Madly." He confessed the words in a rush, as if afraid to hold them back any longer.

Silence descended upon them, thick and heavy with unspoken emotions. Then, a soft, surprised sound escaped Y/N's lips.

"You still...?" She couldn't finish the question, the weight of his confession settling on her chest.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers, a desperate plea for a flicker of reciprocation. "Every damn day," he whispered. "Even now, on our monthaversaries, I still go get your favorite pad thai."

The admission, a small, vulnerable detail from a past they both cherished, cracked the ice around Y/N's heart.

A wry smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips, a flicker of disbelief coloring her voice. "Pad thai, huh? You never did learn to like that."

Seb chuckled, a wet, shaky sound. "No, I never did. But seeing you devour it with that look of pure joy... it was worth every forced bite." His gaze softened, lingering on her face for a beat too long.

The weight of his words, laced with a longing that mirrored her own, threatened to unravel the careful control she'd maintained. Taking a deep breath, she confessed, "You know, I used to stalk your social media, Seb. Every model the tabloids linked you with, I'd dissect their pictures online, a jealous wreck." Shame burned in her cheeks as she admitted the truth.

His eyes widened in surprise. "You... you did?"

"Don't judge," she countered, a hint of defiance lacing her voice. "We both have things we regret."

He shook his head, his expression softening. "Never. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, even if I was a colossal idiot back then."

Y/N couldn't help but let out a small laugh, the sound surprisingly warm. "Maybe a little," she conceded. "But even after switching teams, a part of me still wants you to win every race, Seb. It's a terrible conflict of interest, I know."

He squeezed her hand, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes. "Really?"

"Don't get cocky," she teased, a playful glint returning to her eyes. "But seeing you on that podium, the pure joy on your face... it's hard to explain."

A comfortable silence settled between them, a stark contrast to the storm that had raged just moments before. Then, a mischievous thought struck Y/N.

"Speaking of confessions," she began, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Remember those chocolate chip cookies Mark always seems to have a stash of during race weekends?"

Seb's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of recognition dawning on his face. "Wait, you...?"

"Guilty as charged," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "I figured you still loved them, even after all these years."

Seb's lips curved into a genuine smile, the first one she'd seen in far too long. "You have no idea," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "They were... a ray of sunshine on some pretty dark days."

Their eyes met, a spark of something new igniting in the space between them. The past, with all its baggage, still loomed, but for the first time, they weren't facing it alone.

two days later

Two days had passed since their tearful encounter in the Red Bull garage. The air crackled with unspoken emotions, a constant undercurrent in the sterile environment of the Formula One paddock. Y/N sat hunched over her laptop in the Mercedes motorhome, the glow of the screen illuminating the dark circles under her eyes. Sleep had been a distant dream, replaced by the whirring of her mind replaying every stolen glance, every hesitant touch with Seb.

A soft knock startled her from her thoughts. Wiping the fatigue from her eyes, she called out, "Come in."

The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish Seb holding a familiar white paper bag. His hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Hey," he mumbled, stepping inside hesitantly.

"Seb? What are you doing here?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with surprise.

He held up the bag, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips. "Pad thai. Your favorite. I, uh, thought maybe you could use a break from all that data?"

A wave of warmth washed over Y/N. "You remembered," she whispered, her gaze dropping to the bag.

"How could I forget?" he replied, his voice softer than she'd heard in years. "It's become more than just a dish, Y/N. It's a reminder of everything we were, everything I messed up."

He took a tentative step closer, his eyes searching hers. The vulnerability in his gaze tugged at her heartstrings.

"Look," he continued, his voice thick with emotion, "I know this is crazy, showing up here unannounced after everything. But I can't stay silent anymore. These past few days have been torture. The thought of you... of losing you again..." He trailed off, his voice choked with emotion.

"Seb," Y/N started, her own voice trembling.

He held up a hand, silencing her. "No, let me finish. These past years have been a living hell without you. Every race win felt hollow, every victory parade a painful reminder of what I'd thrown away. My parents were right, you know. You were the best thing that ever happened to me."

He took another step closer, the air crackling with unspoken emotions between them. "Y/N," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I love you. I never stopped. And if there's even a sliver of a chance, I want you back. I want to rebuild what we had, stronger this time."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, blurring his image. She couldn't take his beautiful monologue any longer. With a strangled cry, she launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck. The pad thai forgotten, they fell into a desperate embrace.

"Seb," she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. "I love you, I love you, I love you," the words tumbling out in a breathless rush.

He held her tighter, the sound of her choked sobs a balm to his tortured soul. "Never letting you go again," he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with a promise they both desperately wanted to keep.

In the heart of the bustling Formula One paddock, amidst the roar of engines and the relentless pursuit of victory, they found solace in each other's arms. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but for the first time in years, they weren't facing it alone. They had each other, a second chance at a love that had weathered the storm and emerged stronger, more resilient than ever before.

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put-me-through-the-wall · 3 days

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Okay but imagine Possesive!Konig finding out someone has a crush on you. Like maybe there's guy from work who likes to linger by your desk little too long or alway finds a reason to text you when you're off. You don't think too much of it, you've always been friendly with your coworkers. It can be dull just sitting at your desk for eight hours so a little conversation helped break up the time. You figure he was harmless. Then people in the office start to notice and you realize how frequently he finds a reason to interrupt your day. Your other coworker once made a joke that he was your 'work husband' and that was the line for you. Not only were you uninterested but you also have a 6'7 hunk of a man waiting at home, who you're very content with. Then you start to notice how close he stands to you. The way he uses any excuses to brush against you or pick a piece of lint off your shoulder. So the next time that guy approaches stops by your desk you are only giving short responses. He offers to grab you something when he goes to the cafe and you refuse. He tries to walk you to your car but you insist you have to stay over to finish up some forms. He doesn't catch the hint though. You don't want to be harsh and spoil the work relationship, that last thing you need is more drama in the office environment.

Then one night you're at home on the weekend. You're sitting on the couch with Konig watching some German cooking show he insisted on and your phone lights up with a text from your dreaded admirer. "Hey! A couple of us are getting together tonight for some drinks. Would love for you to join ;)",

Your stomach tightens when you unlock your phone and feel Konig's stare over your shoulder.

"Who is that?" His tone remains flat but you feel his arm tighten around your waist. You pray he doesn't assume there is anything going on behind his back.

"This guy from work who won't stop bugging me. I'm keeping things strictly professional but he's always pushing it". You reply back to the text quickly giving a lame excuse that shouldn't warrant a response. Your phone chimes almost immediately.

"Aw too bad, I was hoping I could get you that cocktail we were talking about. Next time then xx".

You don't text him back after that and flip your phone over on the coffee table. "Sorry, let's finish this episode." You settle back against his strong chest but he sits up and grabs the remote, pausing the show.

"No, I'm tired and it's late. Let's get to bed." He rises and heads to your bedroom.

All you can think of for the rest of the night is how he interpreted the whole interaction. Could he think you flirt with this loser? Surely, he would have more faith in your loyalty. You knew you were taking the easy way out by not being totally honest. The guilt eats at you knowing you lied by omission. You thought keeping your work life and personal life separate would be easier but now you realize it was just a way to avoid the confrontation. After a not so restful night sleep you are you determine today is the day you'll finally let Pat know that you are in a committed relationship and don't appreciate the attention you receive from him. Konig is already up and dressed while you stir your coffee still in your robe. You didn't know much about his work other than it was something to do with the military and it called him away at a moment's notice. He was out of the door with a kiss on your head.

When your breathing finally slowed to a steady pace last night, Konig was able to sneak out from under you and take a peek at your phone. He wasn't worried about his sweet libeling doing anything naughty behind his back. The contents of your phone only confirm that. The real purpose of his search was to find out some more info on your coworker. He looked through the many texts this guy has sent with way too many emojis attached while you give him mostly one word responses. He knew you didn't have a wandering eye. After finding his phone number and social media from your accounts it wasn't hard to get a hold of his address. By the next morning he had a plan in motion. He kissed you goodbye and headed out. You are such a trusting girl, wishing him a good day at work. He plugged in the address and found the place with ease. Actually not too far from your place. He parks a few block away from his destination. Dressed in a dark sweatshirt, he keeps the hood up to hid his identity without looking too suspicious. He reaches the complex, taking a moment to observe the apartment building. He sees the man walk by the patio door while buttoning his dress shirt, innocently getting ready for work. Trying to look his best for you, he's sure. Konig slips on his mask and knocks on the front door. There is a moment of shuffling and the door swings open.

"Can I help you...?" The man voice becomes weak as he stretches his neck up to meet Konig's steely gaze behind the sniper hood. Konig takes out his phone to confirm the identity, holding the screen next to the man's face just to be sure.

"You are Pat?" Konig questions.

"Um, yea?" Pat responds.

Konig squints down at him, tilting his head "You do not know who you are?".

"I mean, yes I'm Pat" His voice now more certain.

"Very good." Without waiting for a response Konig shoves the him back inside of his apartment and slams the door shut with his boot. Pat falls backwards and lands hard on his ass. He shuffles backwards but not fast enough. Konigs snatches him up by the collar of his crisp white shirt, slamming him into the nearest wall, knocking picture frame down in his wake. He catches the scent of his overpowering cologne making his rage boil over. He holds the man in place with a sturdy forearm against his skinny throat. Pat's feet dangle off the floor, kicking helplessly.

"Look man, you've got the wrong guy here! If this about the bet at the bar I've got the money. Let me just-" His cracking voice is cut off by a swift punch to the gut.

"Listen to me" Konig hisses through clenched teeth and pushing on his windpipe. "You will call your boss today. You will quit. Is that understood?".

"Huh?" He squeaks out. Another jab and Pat is scratching at the solid arm retracting his oxygen. Konig removes his hold and Pat crumples to the floor, gasping for air while gripping his abused neck.

"Is that understood?" Konig's voice booms in growing rage.

"Yes!" Pat answer between coughs. Not trusting any man's word Konig watches him make the call letting your boss know he will not be coming in for the indefinite future. Satisfied with the work he's done, Konig drives back to your place whistling along to a familiar tune on the radio.

You head into work, psyching yourself up on the car ride there. Rehearsing the conversation and possible scenarios that could play out. Once clocked in you nervously sit at your desk, bouncing your leg, trying your best to focus on the workload before you. Just waiting for the inevitable moment he appears but, it never comes. The hours skip by and Pat never shows himself. It's not until lunch time you finally leave your desk round the corner to see Pat's desk being packed away. You walked up to your manager clearing out the drawers.

"Hey, where's Pat?" you ask.

"Oh, you didn't hear? He quit." She tosses the last of the trinkets in the cardboard box and closes the flaps.

"Quit? why?" you feign concern but you can't help the wave of relief that washes over you.

"I'm not sure. He called all in huff this morning. Did he say anything to you?" She asks.

"No not at all. I hope he's alright." You watch her take the box in her arms, leaving the empty desk. Maybe this was the universe finally giving you a break.

You get through the rest of your day and head back home. You find your oversized Austrian man strewn across your couch, cleaning out a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

"Hello there, I'm guessing your day went well." You say as you shuck off your jacket and hang up your bag.

"Yes it was very fulfilling. I took care of an issue that has been bothering me. How was your day, mien engel?" He set the empty carton on the coffee table as he polishes off the spoon.

"Very good actually. Remember that guy who was bugging me at work? He quit today." Konig's eyebrow shoot up in surprise.

"That is one less thing to worry about then." He say. He rises from the couch, grabs you by the waist and pulls you tight to him. "I'm glad to have you all to myself."

#Konig x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig fluff #konig fanfiction #konig fic #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty #modern warfare

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billwidoll · 2 days

Text

The connection between us

____________________

Rafe Cameron has never been a fan of love. He always thought it was all a joke, he always kept his heart cold and his body active. He had relationships with girls, but it was only physical And Rafe didn't know why he was like this, maybe because he was never loved by any woman and he felt this way.

Most women were in relationships with Rafe for his money and Rafe was no fool and knew it or maybe it was because he was just good looking. But anyway, Rafe hated this marriage thing, Of couples and of love. He wanted it far away from him. Until one day...

Whezzie, Rafe's younger sister, asked her brother to take her to the cinema to watch the new Barbie movie. Rafe hated it, but his sister was the only thing he tolerated.

"let's watch the movie and then go home, you understand" Rafe speaks authoritatively, holding whezzie's hand, in the queue for movie tickets.

"it's cool Rafe!" Whezzie says, rolling his eyes at his brother.

Approaching the ticket box, Rafe saw the employee who was at the counter selling tickets. And it made Rafe see true female beauty. He noticed the way you smiled, the color tone of your hair, your bright and penetrating eyes, your sweet and soft voice, your angelic skin. He simply saw the goddess next to him.

"I'm sorry, but can you hear me?" He hears your velvety voice, directed at him.

He was so mesmerized, he didn't even notice you were talking to him.

"ah...and...my bad, I got lost in your eyes.." Rafe speaks without realizing what he had said and you give him a confused face

"no, no, no, that's not what I meant, what I meant and what I lost in my thoughts"

Rafe speaks finally justifying himself and you give a smile

"no, It's okay, this happens to me sometimes"

You speak, trying to soften this strange situation between you and this man you've never seen in your life.

"let's go Rafe! Buy the damn tickets" Whezzie says, clearly irritated by the whole situation, and Rafe takes a deep breath to keep from yelling at her.

"I want two tickets to the Barbie movie"

Rafe says, lowering his head so he doesn't meet your eyes again and be mesmerized. Rafe takes out his wallet and gives you the money for the tickets.

"his daughter?" You ask smiling at whezzie, you were already preparing the tickets .

Rafe didn't know why he loved hearing your voice again and directed at him..

"no, not her, just my younger sister" Rafe says, smiling at you and playing with whezzie's hair

"well...she's beautiful! Here are your tickets" you say, giving them both a huge smile, and Rafe's wish at that moment was to stick that smile to his forehead

"Thank you... Y/N" Rafe says seeing the name on a badge that was glued to his work uniform.

When you give Rafe the tickets, he and whezzie continue on their way to the cinema

"what was this?!" Whezzie asks, surprised by all the dialogue Rafe had with that strange girl

"shut up" Rafe speaks harshly to the girl and she rolls her eyes

Two weeks later

"You have to get married, Rafe! You're already a 24-year-old man, you need to start your family!"

Ward speaks angrily and authoritatively to Rafe

"and dad, I know, and yes, I'm 24 years old and I decide whether I'm going to get married or not!"

Rafe speaks in the same tone as Ward, and Ward is angry at Rafe's reactivation.

"and the name of the family that I created, in your hands! You will inherit the company, meaning you will own this family! And you need to at least have a girlfriend!!"

Ward says pointing his finger at Rafe

"they....they are difficult dad....they just care about my money" Rafe speaks, speaking more quietly and Ward simply laughs at his son's confession

"so what? Your mother married me, it wasn't because of any love but for my money"

Ward speaks, making Rafe more angry and frustrated. Rafe needed to find a girlfriend quickly, and he would go after Y/N, the one and only, to make him feel strong admiration.

And so Rafe did. He waited for you at night, behind the cinema area, to just try to have a conversation with you. And as incredible as it seemed to him, he was nervous, his hands weren't They stopped sweating, And he was biting his nails because of the anxiety. But anyway, Rafe saw you leaving through the back doors of the cinema. And he approaches you

"oh hi! Remember me?" Rafe speaks with a friendly smile so you don't have to be afraid of that strange situation

"Ah, yes. You are that beautiful little girl's older brother, am I right?"

You speak a little spitefully because it was just the two of you in that place, and it was also night and it would probably rain in less than an hour

"yes! Yes, despite that, I'm Rafe" Rafe says, raising his hand to shake and you accept

Rafe didn't say his last name, because he was afraid that if you heard the word "Cameron" you would probably stay with him because of the money, so he decided to test

"well... Rafe... I'm still trying to understand, what do you want from me?" You say crossing your arms and looking deeply at Rafe

"Would you mind going out with me? I... just admired you at that counter"

Rafe speaks with a bit of a stutter, so you decide to let your guard down and try to sympathize with him.

"well...I accept, I just don't expect you to be some kind of psychopath" you say making this joke and you both end up laughing

"good... so can you give me your number, so we can arrange a meeting?" Rafe says, approaching you and smelling that sweet perfume

"okay" you say, taking a pen from your bag and pulling Rafe's palm, that's where you would sign the number

Rafe liked that, he liked your attitude, as a woman.

To be continued?

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luvelylaconic · 2 days

Text

Jealous? Nah. (Yes.)

Gojo x Fem Reader: Part 3. MINORS DNI

<< Prev

In which, you befriend Suguru and it doesn't sit well with Satoru. He's sure it's just because he doesn't want to lose his best friend, right?

Content: Possessiveness, Jealousy, Eventual smut, Jujutsu College AU, Slight Toxic Relationship, Sexual Themes

What did he mean he will do something about it?

Satoru's inner turmoil got the best of him as he sat on his friend's bed, still attempting to grasp the earlier conversation;

Did he mean it as a competition?

He wasn't one to back down on a competition- he always wins. So he will have you- not Suguru.

But that doesn't means he likes you in any means past a simple attraction, right?

He's nearly positive that once he gets it out of his system and gets the satisfaction that he's won you over Suguru, everything will return to normalcy.

But until then, he had to find a way to get close to you to begin with- enough for you to even talk to him at the very least.

He admits, he hasn't been the most friendliest to you. But that was the case for most people; he didn't bother to form relationships or make small talk with people. He found it mundane, pointless- due to the sheer fact he was the strongest, and everyone else was below him. He had no need to satisfy other people's inner need for these useless bonds that they craved so desperately from him. He had Suguru as a friend, and that was all he needed.

Or so he thought.

Because now he was facing a dilemma he never once thought he would face.

Sure, he's talked to girls before. But it was nothing more than some entertainment; having someone to take with to the club when Suguru had a date, or someone who had connections to parties that he could tag along with. And with the occasional, but very seldom time, where he did go further with them- it was nothing more than to satisfy the needs he even admit he has.

But he never once had a label on any of these arrangements, nor has he kept in contact with one girl for more than two weeks.

He could also count on one hand the amount of girls he's slept with- or actually,with only three fingers... or two...?

Satoru starts to think if one even counted. He either tends to forget girls from being under the influence (which he now realizes he doesn't enjoy doing), or simply does not care to remember.

Because the times he did do anything beyond having them as company, it was with a simple need in mind. He didn't particularly enjoy anything from it and found himself with regret instead the following day. So at some point, he just stopped seeing girls all together.

And no one dared to judge him for it, which he was content with him.

But now he was at a complete loss on what to do with you.

He's sure it will come naturally. But the thought of you not being interested has him uneasy, he's never faced rejection. And the possibility of being rejected by specifically you felt even worse.

Because, even though he would like to deny it, there was that part of him that wanted you to genuinely like him.

But he chose to ignore that thought as he sent a text to you,

Hey, thanks for the notes. What's your coffee order?

When the next day followed, Satoru made sure to get ready a bit earlier than usual to stop by the coffee stand before class- making sure the order was exactly what you requested.

Even sending a quick picture to Suguru of the coffee with a text that follows,

Don't worry about making her coffee today ;)

He now waited at the same seat from yesterday, leaving your drink sitting beside him on the desk as he sipped on his very sweet and sugary drink, that perhaps didn't even count as a coffee anymore.

But when he saw you walk in a little later than usual, he made a mental note on how slowly you moved and how your eyes didn't leave your feet as you made your way up the stairs of the lecture room. Your bag barely in your grasp as you tugged it along.

It wasn't until you sat down did he notice how absolutely drained you looked; your complexion dimmed, your eyelids looked heavy while the area under eyes began to darken slightly, and when you smiled at him while thanking him for the coffee- the smile didn't reach your bright eyes like they usually did.

"What happened to you?", he murmured as he set his coffee down, adverting all his attention to you.

You only sighed, rubbing your eyes from exhaust, "Yaga set me out on a high priority mission last night. I got back an hour ago."

Before he could ask anymore details, the professor began talking and you were quick to start your notes like you usually did.

But he kept on thinking about Yaga. Why did he send you out? Alone at that it seems. Why couldn't he had sent him instead- it would have been taken care of faster that way.

He also didn't like the thought of you possibly struggling on your own in the middle of the night, with nobody there to protect you. The thought of it irked him, only adding another thing to the list of reasons he doesn't particularly like the higher ups.

But it's whatever, he finally concluded. You were a first grade after all, and you didn't seem physically hurt by any means. Just... exhausted.

He then brought his attention back to class, noticing in his peripheral the way you were struggling to keep up with the lecture. Your notes didn't have your personalized details, and you often left information out- your main focus being to keep yourself awake more than anything.

So he took it upon himself to slide the notebook away from you, then grabbing his much neglected pen from his pocket,

"I'll take notes for you.", was all he said before he began jotting down the notes where you left off, not giving a second glance as he did.

And you nodded in appreciation, not in a place to contend- as you now leaned into your arms, allowing yourself to close your eyes for a little. All while Satoru made sure to add every detail he possibly could to your notes, making sure they were as pretty as yours. And as pretty as he thought you looked while you napped.

"I think he took it the wrong way when I said I would do something about it."

Shoko groaned in frustration as she flicked her lighter that now ran dead, only igniting small flames that weren't enough to light her cigarette. But Suguru was quick to grab his out his pocket, lighting it for her. She sighed a thanks before inhaling in,

She then exhaled out after a few seconds, letting the smoke fan out around her as the cigarette sat on the side of her mouth, "Leave it to Satoru to take it that way."

The raven hair man shrugged, "I was only trying to help. Be a wingman, I suppose.", he then took a few steps away from Shoko, settling behind her against a wall, hoping the smoke smell didn't linger on him.

He knew you didn't like the smell of smoke. It was obvious every time Shoko lit a cigarette near you. But you were always nice about it, typical of you.

"But why go through all the trouble?", she once again took a hit from the lit stick, a longer one this time, "I thought you liked her."

Smoke once again puffed out, a big cloud now surrounding the two.

"I do."

Shoko finally turned her face towards him, looking at him through the corners of her eyes,

"Then, why?"

Suguru thought for a moment,

"Because I care for Satoru too, and i've been worried about him.", he began as he started walking away, knowing she would follow suit, "I know being the strongest sorcerer gets to him, it would to anyone. But he has it so warped that he thinks he doesn't need anyone else. But he does. He needs someone that isn't me- someone that can help him and be there for him in a way I can't."

The trailing girl took the cigarette out of her mouth, stomping on it,

"And that someone is Y/N?"

"Yeah, I think so."

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #gojo fluff #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk satoru #satoru x you

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rroseselavyyy · 3 days

Note

then, could i request: Yoongi and yn go to the beach, she's wearing a small bikini, Yoongi can't resist her tits and starts touching them (in front of all the people there). pinching nipples, sucking, fondling...untill the both of them are so horny that they just fuck right there in front of everyone? if its way too kinky I could tone it down a bit? haha

honeysuckle - myg

pairing: yoongi x female reader

warnings: smut, breast play, exhibitionism, unprotected s*x

a/n: here is your request dear anon :) I hope you like it! 🩷🥹

His eyes lingered on your bikini top as he tried to hide his fascination with your barely covered tits. You were reading a fashion magazine under your sunglasses as he applied sunscreen to your legs, his fingers inadvertently digging into the flesh of your thighs. There were drops of water from your wet hair dripping down onto your breasts and Yoongi wanted to look away but the sight was too captivating.

Things like this were not supposed to turn him on.

Nevertheless, Yoongi knew it was impossible for him not to give in to his animal nature when you asked him to put sunscreen on your breasts.

His hands felt gentle on your skin, massaging your breasts with great care until you let out a trembling whimper. As his touches grew bolder, his eyes found yours as if to ask your permission.

Yoongi realized you were as eager as he was by the way you tugged at his hair, eyes closed and panting heavily. He made you lie on your back while he crawled on top of you. Soft kisses on your nipples became much more aggressive as if he was sucking the milk from them. The thought of it alone sent blood rushing to his cock as the mental images of you feeding his baby with your beautiful tits flashed through his mind.

You bit your lower lip to muffle your moans as his wet kisses traced a path between your collarbones to your jawline. His hands found their way to the swell of your breasts, squeezing them shamelessly.

"Baby, do you feel it?" Yoongi brought your hand to his growing bulge as if you two were in your own bedroom and not on a beach where anyone could walk in on you. "I'm so horny for you."

You were not like this at the beginning of your relationship with Yoongi, on the contrary, you would freak out the moment he laid his hands on you in public. But you seemed far from feeling ashamed when he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, making your body tremble in the summer breeze.

Your mother was right in everything she told you about him. He had been a bad influence on you.

"Don't you think it's hot?" You looked at him under your lashes, your mind too dizzy to make out any of his words as his fingers skilfully toyed with the hem of your bikini bottoms. As he smiled confidently over your lips, the sight of his wet hair and sunkissed cheeks made your pussy ache with desire. "I mean, the risk of getting caught?"

You almost cried as he pulled the bottom of your bikini aside and teased you with his middle and index fingers. "It's okay beautiful, I've got you." Your sand covered legs brushed against his in a delicious way as he pushed his wet shorts down far enough to get his dick out. "Let me take care of you."

Yoongi planted wet kisses on your cheek as he slid the head of his cock into your pussy, which was already soaking wet with the evidence of how much you wanted him. It didn't seem like getting caught by someone was on your plate, considering he was ready to explode when he felt your heavenly walls fluttering around him.

You kissed each other to muffle the sound of your moans. Even though you were making love in a public place, keeping the sounds of the declaration of your love to yourselves was your way of maintaining a kind of privacy.

His hips picked up a pace that made you see stars. As your body spasmed with an intense orgasm, your legs were wrapped around his waist as if you didn't want to let him go. Soon his cum filled you to the brim and then you felt the familiar sensation of his embrace, his arms wrapped around your form in a way that made you feel at home.

"You're a freak of nature, you know that right?" You played with the hair at the back of his neck as you teased him with a weary smile on your lips. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you recovered from your orgasm, his chest heaving from your earlier activity. "And you love me for that."

#bts smut #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #min yoongi #yoongi fanfiction #bts fanfic #yoongi #rroseselavyyyasks #rroseselavyyyrequestedfics

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sweetbans29 · 13 hours

Text

Challenge Me (Spoken For Part 2) - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Calrk x Reader

Summary: Spoken For Part 2 (based off of THIS and THIS and THIS request)

Warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive

Word Count: 3.1k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Here is part 2 for Spoken For! Enjoy!

It has been about a month since Caitlin told her team she was married. You followed suit very shortly after. Your team was equally as ecstatic as Cait's when they found out that you and Caitlin were together.

That led to both of your teams checking your schedules to see when the two of you would be facing off which leads you to this week. The Hawkeyes are scheduled to come up to play your team in Connecticut. You had been looking forward to it all season and it's finally about to happen.

Every time you have talked to Caitlin since she told her team she mentions how her teammates talk nonstop about meeting you and getting to see how Caitlin is on the court when she has to play her wife.

The more you think about it - the more it makes you nervous. It is not like you didn't want your teams to know but with the teams knowing, it is only a matter of time before the world knows. The nerves came from all the criticism that you felt like you would get. Even though it was Cait's plan to keep the two of you on the down low and that plan was changed, you loved how it has only been the two of you. There was never anyone poking or prodding into your relationship.

It would be t-minus 4 hours until your girl would be at UConn and your teams would meet. You were excited, to say the least. Her team gets in today (Wednesday), the game is on a Friday, and Cait is spending the weekend with you before heading back.

You keep yourself busy cleaning your apartment and getting all of her favorite snacks to help the time pass. You want to make sure everything is perfect for when she gets here - even though she isn’t staying with you until after the game. Your apartment isn’t big but you invited some of your closest teammates and she invited some of hers to your apartment for a little dinner. Caitlin thought it would be a good way to get to know each other's team - her team was also asking her when they would get to meet you and she was sick of it even though Caitlin loved it when the team talked about you.

The most you had done up to this point was Facetime them once and that was a trip...

"Babe!" You say excitedly as you answer her Facetime call. You are a little surprised when you are met with someone who is not Caitlin.

"Ahhh! I've got her!" The girl yells to someone as she waves at you through the phone. Two other girls come running over and set themselves in the frame. They all have giant smiles on their faces when you hear your girl yelling in the background.

"GABBY! Give me my phone!" You hear Cait yell as she tries to take the phone - at least that is what it looks like.

"Cait-babe?" You say as there is now fear in the girl's eyes who is holding the phone. By the looks of what is happening, it seems like these are Caitlin's teammates and they have stolen her phone to call you.

The screen freezes and then goes black. At first, you think that the Facetime call has ended but you give it a second and then see Caitlin's face pop up on the screen. Her hair is a little rustled and her cheeks are a little rosie.

"Hey babe, sorry about that," she says as she catches her breath. "They took my phone and ran while I was in the shower and I guess they found your contact and called you." She then proceeds to talk to herself more than you, 'Not that it is hard to find you in my phone considering your contact is wifey'. You smile as she continues," The girls have been bugging me nonstop to Facetime you so they can officially introduce themselves."

"Oh that is honestly really sweet of them," you say as you see Caitlin roll her eyes.

"Ya if you think theft is sweet then by all means," she says.

"Put them back on, I would love to meet them." You say as Cait mumbles 'Fine'.

You see Caitlin get up from where she is sitting and walk over to another room. It takes .2 seconds before there are three girls behind her. They all look like little kids waiting for their turn to meet Mickey Mouse and all you can do is smile.

"Hi all - it is nice to finally meet you all," you say introducing yourself.

They all wave at you and go around introducing themselves.

"These are the culprits of the first call," Caitlin says with a laugh and you laugh as well.

"Well, can you blame them? They have known about us for how long and they haven't met me yet," you say as you flip your hair over your shoulder. Caitlin rolls her eyes as a smile sits beautifully on her lips. "And plus, you have met some of my teammates." You say wanting to stir the pot.

The girls behind Cait gasped and started pushing her, grilling her on how she had met your teammates but they had not met you until now and that it was something they had to initiate.

Caitlin groans and gives you a sarcastic 'thank you' as the girls are still going crazy.

"Hey, I have an idea." You say as the gears in your brain begin to turn. "The first time we play each other will be here in Connecticut, when you girls come up, I'll have you over for dinner and we can all get to know each other. I'll also invite some of my closer teammates, it could be fun!"

The girls scream yes and start jumping up and down with excitement - this is all they have wanted since they found out about you. Caitlin gives a little smile and her 'I love you' eyes.

The rest of the call is pretty short due to you having to head out to practice. You tell Caitlin you love her and you can't wait to see her. She says the same as the two of you hang up and continue about your day.

Now here you are - cooking dinner for 8, all while listening to your music a little too loudly. A few of your teammates are hanging out and enjoying the charcuterie board you put out. You have to go over a few times to tell them not to eat everything on the board, hitting Azzi's hand a few times in the process.

You are standing in front of the stove as your hips sway to the music. You jump when you feel a pair of arms come wrapping around your torso, instantly knowing who it is. Your excitement overtakes you as you throw the spoon you were using on the counter and spin around to embrace your wife.

"My love!" You yell in her ear. She buries her face in your neck and you feel her inhale, sending goosebumps to appear on the back of your neck. You are so caught up in your wife that it takes you a minute to see there are three more girls sort of standing there with giant smiles on their faces.

"I am so sorry, how rude of me," you say and you release Cait, earning you a groan from her. You go over and hug all the girls that Caitlin brought. "It is so good to meet you all in person!"

"We can say the same - ever since we found out about you, we have been dying to meet you!" Kate says. "It also doesn't help when Caitlin won't shut up about you," she says, outing Caitlin.

You turn to look at Caitlin and she just shrugs.

"What? Can you blame me? I have the best wife." Caitlin says popping a grape in her mouth and making her way to give you a kiss.

The two of you introduce your teammates. The sight in front of you is one that warms your heart. You completely forget the fact that you are about to face off against them in two days.

All of the girls clicked immediately, all talking about finding out how their teammates were married and then hearing it was to another player in the league. They ask Caitlin and you questions about how you met and when you got married, all of which the two of you were happy about sharing. The night ends with you all sharing ball stories in your living room.

It starts to get late and your teams begin to head out. Your team is the first to go and you walk them out while Caitlin and her team help clean up.

As you are walking out, Paige turns to you with a little smile on her face as she nudges you.

"What?" You say, not being able to hide the smile on your face and give her a little nudge back.

"I've known CC for a long time and I can't imagine anyone more perfect for you than her. The two of you suit each other and I am glad you no longer have to hide that." Paige says. Paige has been one of your rocks going into college and hearing her say these things squeezes your heart.

"Hey don't go soft on me now P," you say joking with her but giving her a look of gratitude.

You say bye to your teammates, telling them you'll see them tomorrow morning, and head back into your apartment.

Caitlin's girls all thank you for dinner and say they will see you on Friday, stepping out to leave Caitlin to say goodbye to you alone.

You wrap her in your arms and just hold her for a minute.

"That was a really good night," you say giving her a little squeeze.

"All thanks to you babe," she says as she separates herself a little from you, not daring to remove her arms from your body. "I am glad our worlds finally got to collide."

"Me too. It's nice that it was here before we destroy you on Friday," you say with a mischievous smile.

"Okay now, don't get ahead of yourself self babe," she says with a laugh. The hands she has on your hips pull you into her body as she continues by whispering in your ear. "We all know who is going to come out on top on Friday." She kisses your neck and you let out a hum.

"Oh we do," you say, eyes closed - enjoying Caitlin's lips on your neck. You bring your girl's face to yours and right before you put your lips on hers, "And babe, it won't be you." You say as you kiss her bottom lip and pulling away from her.

"Your team is waiting," you say as Caitlin looks at you with disbelief.

"Oh you are going to pay for that," Caitlin says with a look in her eye.

"I look forward to it," you say and pinch her hip as she walks out the door. "Love you, babe," you call out to her as she catches up with her team.

You don't get to see Caitlin much before your game on Friday but that was expected.

Friday rolls around and you are locked in before the game. Your team arrives at the arena and everyone is getting ready for the game. Once you are suited up, you are the first one to head out to the floor. When you walk out to look over and see your girl has beat you out and is already throwing some shots. Your head comes down as a smile dawns on your lips and you shake your head - she is incredible.

You begin to warm up as the rest of your team comes out. Everyone is looking and feeling pretty good as the game begins. At tipoff, you walk up to Caitlin on the floor.

"Good luck, babe." You say and she smiles at you. "You'll need it," you say finishing your thought, and Cait's face changes to a serious one. She is locked in and you slightly bite your lip as a locked-in Cait is one of your favorite sights. She notices your little action and knows it is going to be a long game.

The first half is a pretty physical game - both teams working hard to make sure the other doesn't get ahead. You can tell Caitlin is pissed which is reciprocated in some of your teammates. Paige has been guarding Cait most of the first half which was your coach's choice. It was a pretty good match considering they have played together before. You head into the lockers as the score is 47-45 with Iowa in the lead.

Your team takes time to reset and as you head out to the court again - Geno tasks you with guarding Caitlin now as Paige shifts to Kate Martin.

Everyone is back on the floor and you make your way to Cait. She gives you a little wink and you shake your head. The next quarter you guard her well, only allowing her to get 5 points in the quarter. You on the other hand were able to put up double what she has to help keep you tied or just below Iowa.

It all comes down to the fourth quarter. Your hand rarely leaves Caitlin, always having her within arm's reach. Time runs down as you have the ball, putting up a 3. You hold up three fingers and turn to the crowd, hearing the crowd go wild. Not 20 seconds later, Caitlin does the same thing and copies your celebration. You run back over to her giving her a little nudge.

"Game's not over yet," you say running back to offense. Moving the ball around and hitting Paige - who drains another 3. Cait nods in response.

It is down to the final 30 seconds as Iowa is up by 4. Your team can take the win if it is executed correctly.

You know Caitlin is going to be guarding you hard but you know how she plays. This may be the first time you are on the opposite team but it is not the first time you have seen Caitlin in this position. You know she doesn't want to draw the foul but you are going to make her.

Azzi passes you the ball behind the back as you drive in the middle putting it up with your left. You get hit hard from the right and go down, hitting the ground even harder. You hear the buzzard go off signaling your basket is good.

As you are on the ground, it takes you a second to get up. Paige and Azzi try grabbing your hands to pull you up but you aren't ready. There is still a pain shooting through your left arm as you open and close your hand. Your elbow took most of the blow as you hit the ground and you know you just need a second for the feeling to come back.

You wave off Geno and your trainer as you reach up to Paige. She pulls you up and checks if you are okay. You nod as Caitlin makes her way to you. She is face to face with you as she goes to say something into your ear.

"You good babe?" She asks, bringing her hand up to your elbow. You flinch as her skin makes contact with yours. "I didn't mean to knock you that hard."

"It's good," you say lying through your teeth and Caitlin knows. She tries to get you to sit but you refuse as there are only seconds left in the game and your team is still down by 2.

You walk to the foul line and shake out your arm.

You miss the first one, cursing to yourself knowing every point is needed. You make the second and remain to play full-court defense.

The ball is thrown in and Paige knocks it midair before it can get to the Iowa player. You pick it up - seeing the seconds run down, you know you have 4 seconds to put up the shot. When you pick up the ball you are on the 3-point line and know you can do it.

Stepping left, you draw Cait to go left. She knows that's your go-to move and your stronger shot. At least it was back in high school. You fake it and go right, giving you just enough space to put for the 3.

The ball is released from your hand and the final buzzard follows by a few milliseconds. Everything moves in slow motion. Everyone is looking at the ball - waiting to see if you have done it or not.

Caitlin is facing the basket, her hand on your hip as if to box you out even though the game is over. Both of you waiting to see who will end up on top.

The ball hits the back side of the rim, bouncing up before going through the net - putting your team ahead by two and winning the game.

A smile comes to your face as your team rushes over to you. Caitlin looks down as she claps her hands. She walks over to her team, giving them high fives.

Your teams line up to say good game to the other team. When you get to Caitlin, she pulls you in.

"Looks like you get to be on top tonight," she says as she secretly loops her finger in your shorts and pulls the elastic. A blush creeps into your cheeks as you just shake your head at your wife.

You have an f-it moment since your teams already know and now it won't be long before the world knows too. You want it to be on your timing and not anyone else's.

Without warning, you grab Caitlin's face and lay your lips on hers, taking her breath away. You pull away and give her a little wink as she is too stunned to speak. What is left of the crowd is going absolutely crazy as you just went public with your relationship. You know many will think you are just dating or something but you don't care. All you care about is now the world knows.

It is Caitlin's turn to blush as she pulls you in and buries her face in your neck.

"I love you, babe," you say giving her back a pat.

"I love you more," she responds.

AN: TADA! I hope you all enjoy part 2 just as much as much as the first. Please let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark masterlist #caitlin clark concepts #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb

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