#ABSOLUTE MENACE BEHAVIOR | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aeyumicore · 2 months

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misty invasion - hidden motive

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: zayne x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.6k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight spoilers to ‘hidden motive’ (zayne’s misty invasion card), knee humping, titty sucking, titty sucking through clothes, titty nibbling (zayne is a boobie fiend), slight predator and prey, switch!zayne (he’s dom but kinda needy and vulnerable), use of Y/N, sub!reader, unprotected sex, cumming in panties, reader on top

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | sylus's version | raf's version | xav's version

━ ✧.˖ A/N: haiiii guyssss i decided to upload the boys’ misty invasion fics one at a time! first up is baby zayne <3 his card inspired me so much, it was so intimate and passionate.

next up will probably be sylus, hopefully will post in maybe 3ish days! I haven’t watched raf’s or xav’s but i have ideas for them. I’m excited to write, i’m praying i don’t burn out…hope you guys enjoy :) love ya’ll! also i am more active on twitter if you guys would like to follow me there, my link is in my masterpost!

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

Spontaneity was not something Zayne preferred to indulge in.

He had enough of it in his hectic surgery schedule, so in his personal life he tried to keep things as predictable as possible.

Yet he was graced with an absolute menace of a girlfriend, who, from the second she walked into his life, created chaos in her wake. Always running off on faraway Hunter missions, telling him only after she’d already left. Coming back injured, with a frustratingly adorable and sheepish smile, trying, and failing, to convince him she was fine.

God, you drove him utterly insane.

Which is why now, the normally composed, self-assured, and controlled, chief cardiac surgeon was unraveling at the seams beneath your seemingly innocent touch.

“Why does it smell sweeter than usual?” Zayne’s voice is raspy and breathless from the torrid and heated kiss the two of you had just been locked in. The razor blade and shaving cream had long since been discarded and forgotten.

Before you can respond, he’s pulling your wrist towards his reddened face, making you fall on top of him from your seat on his lap. You’re left straddling his one knee as you fall forward. Your wrist grips the leather recliner cushion by his head to catch you as he cups your lower back, just above your rear, pressing your body deeper into his.

He nuzzles his face into your wrist that's planted beside his head, absolutely enraptured by the scent of your lotion. The scent of you.

Taking another deef lung full of your pheromones mixed with your fruity lotion, his intense hazel eyes desperately seek yours, like he’s conveying his desires with the golden green orbs. You open your mouth to question his unusual behavior, but Zayne’s one step ahead of you. His knee raises to push your backside towards him, making you lose your grip completely and collapse completely atop him.

The recliner chair swings wildly at your combined movements, and you find yourself struggling to steady yourself. In your brief moment of helplessness, Zayne hoists you towards him, burying his face into your chest. His lips find your collarbone instantly, his knee nestled between your thighs to help balance you.

You gasp at his tongue lapping languidly at your fragrant skin, your fingers grasping his shoulders as he sucks at your sensitive collar, no doubt leaving a bruise. His lips dance dangerously close to where your silk camisole hangs off the swell of your breasts.

“Are you taking a break from work?” you ask between your raspy pants. Zayne continues to indulge in your skin, moving lower until his face meets your hardened nipples, separated only by a thin layer of silk. His tongue softly brushes against the soft material of your top, stroking at the swollen peaks through the smooth fabric. His knee grinds into your thighs, craving the warmth and dampness of his most favorite place.

He has to physically pry himself away from your chest, a dusting of deep peach painting his flustered face.

“Do I look like I can work right now?” His question is simple, but the aggressive demand that hides underneath them is urgent, nearly feral. You don’t get a chance to get another word out before he’s sinking back into the warmth of your chest.

This time, his lips close over your entire nipple through the soft silk of your sleeping cami, making you cry out in surprise. Your fingers grip his hair as he absolutely devours you through your top, the silk dampening with his saliva. His teeth come down to graze your sensitive peaks and you have to push him back before you lose yourself to the pleasure.

“...You don’t have to be so intense,” you urge him, despite the clear and inarguable fact that you want more. Clear from the way the panties you’d slept in start to dampen against his bare knee that peeks out from his robe.

Zayne looks unamused, almost sulky, as he mutters, “No working, and not allowed to do anything else…” He looks up at you, mischief briefly flashing across his eyes

He sits up, wrapping his strong arm around your shoulder and bringing you to him in an intimate embrace. You flail forward at his sudden movements, the rocking of the recliner chair making it impossible to find any balance. He takes the opportunity to drive his knee deeper into your core, making you moan lewdly. His chin rests on your bare shoulder, words hot and breathy against your pulsing neck, “Well then…my love, what exactly do you allow me to do?”

His actions make it difficult for you to speak, brain focussing solely on the pleasure he’s both giving you and keeping from you. At your wordless moans of excitement, Zayne continues.

“Will you allow me to do this?” he rocks his knee deeper into you, effectively humping you against his leg. Your nails dig into his muscled back at the unexpected ecstasy, his knee rubbing against your clit in the most sinfully perfect ways.

Zayne hisses at the feeling of the sting of your nails, only making him more desperate to take you right there on his living room chair, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

With his lips at your neck, he slowly and torturously pulls the flimsy straps of your loose top down, until your breasts are pressing against his exposed chest underneath his luxurious bathrobe.

His hands descend to hold your waist firmly, gently pulling you away from his chest so his hungry mouth can find your soft breasts again.

You throw your head backwards when his warm and wet mouth captures your bare skin into its embrace. Zayne is absolutely relentless, bouncing you filthily on his thigh as he absolutely devours your breasts. His teeth and tongue work in tandem to suckle pretty little bruises into the swell of your chest, and around your pert nipples.

Zayne looks up at you from underneath his eyelashes, heated irises drinking in your quivering form atop him. His erection pushes against the feeble restraints of his tied robe, creating a tent in his lap that twitches with anticipation. It brushes against your stomach as he grinds his knee into you, giving him just enough friction to need to bite into your breast to hold back his desperate moans.

You cling to him, trusting him to take all control of your body and of your pleasure. Your nails continue to draw angry red welts into his back, as you feel the familiar coiling of ecstasy in your gut.

You tap desperately on his shoulders, not wanting to make a mess in your panties that are already sticking to your wet folds.

“Z-Zayne, wait I —”

He brings his thumb to your lips, pressing softly against your parted lips, all the while his own lips never leave your aching tits. Against them, he mumbles, “Don’t deny me. Please.”

You’re briefly snapped out of the mind numbing pleasure of your quickly approaching orgasm at the sound of his plea, bordering on a feral demand. It’s so rare to hear him so unraveled and desperate, to hear him demanding things from you. A man who never asked anything of anyone, especially not of you, the one person he treasured more than life itself. It’s so rare and raw that you can’t help but want to give him everything he wants.

You bury your face into the top of his head, his addicting scent invading your senses, and you kiss him gently, “Never, I would never deny you.”

Zayne inhales sharply, groaning at your sweet words, ”Good girl.” He pulls you down fully on top of him again, the leather chair reclining until it’s nearly flat. Your ass is arched into the air, your face pressed into his chest, as his knee pushes into you with renewed vigor.

His lips find themselves sucking urgently at your nipples again, his knee moving faster, wanting to see his beautiful girl come undone all over his thighs. His tongue lathers tortuous circles around your hardened and swollen peaks, soothing the areas in which his teeth bite down softly.

“Let me see you, love. Please. I haven’t gotten to feel you since you ran off into danger without telling me, again.”

Your heart clenched as you realized that was where all this desperation and vulnerability was coming from. You want to apologize, but his unforgiving knee against your weeping cunt made it nearly impossible to get the syllables out.

“I-I’m – nnghh – m’sorry.”

His hand roughly grabs your chin, turning you to level with his smoldering hazel eyes. His voice is gruff and inquisitive, eyebrows raised in doubt, “Are you, sweetheart?”

You whine at his words, his actions only becoming more relentless, as if forcing the responses he wants out of you, “I am!”

The corner of his lips curl up, so faint you can barely see it. An arrogance Zayne so rarely lets show.

“Then show me. Show me how sorry you are.” With each demand, his leg drives harshly into your clit. You nod vigorously, eager to please him.

His darkened green eyes cling to yours, his voice deceptively calm and soothing, “Say it, love.”

You want to respond but the way he’s punctuating his every word with a hard intentional thrust of his knee into your aching cunt makes it impossible to do anything but moan lewdly into his ear, your head hanging down with your hair falling over your eyes.

He pinches your abused nipple, guiding your eyes back to his demanding hazel ones, the golden flecks glowing brightly as they savor the sight of you.

“I-I’m – unghh – s-sorry. Should’ve told you. I’ll be good, just-just let me cum f’you!” You bury your face into his neck, embarrassed by the words coming out of your mouth but unable to stop them all the same.

“Let me see you,” he grunts. When you lift your head, bleary eyes fixing on his, he smiles. It's faint but effervescently warm.

“That’s my girl. Now tell me, hm? How is my beautiful girl going to make it up to me?”

Your eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed by the pleasure his knee brings you, and the raw feelings that are masked behind his lewd words. His facade of filthy demands that hide the suffocating emotions, the same emotions he’d felt when he saw your name on the list of hunters dispatched to the wanderer quarantine zone. Emotions that he was now taking out on your ever-so responsive body.

“Anything you want Zayne, anything,” you gasp, your eyes locked into his as he continues to hump his knee into you,

His breath catches audibly at your words, pulling your chin towards him to capture your lips in a raw and passionate kiss, one that felt like it might stop time and space as you knew it.

At his intensely possessive lips, his throaty demands, his insistent knee wedged into your cunt, it isn’t long before you come undone all over his knee. You cum with a strangled cry, your fingers digging crescents into his muscled shoulders. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of the filthy dampness against the fabric of your panties. Zayne groans at the angelic sight of your face contorted into pure pleasure, his erection painfully hard against his silken robe, pressed into your quivering belly. The heavenly vision of you cumming was almost enough to have him erupting right against your stomach.

“That’s it my love, just like that,” Zayne coos as you cum over his knee, still rocking gently into you as he helps you ride out the waves of your ecstasy. His slender fingers rub soothing circles into the small of your back, cooling your burning skin.

“So good, so good for me,” he murmurs into your hair, your head resting on his shoulders as the post-orgasm tremors come and go. His lips press into your scalp, the moment feeling absolutely and idyllically perfect.

You’re so blissed out you almost don’t feel him shifting beneath you, slender fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. It isn’t until you feel the all-too familiar feeling of his fat leaking cockhead nestled between your folds, right at the entrance to your most sensitive parts, that your bleary eyes open.

You watch him, cock in his fist, swiping up and down your drenched lips, head hung down in pleasure as he watches the way your pussy quite literally invites him in. A thin layer of sweat glistens on his furrowed forehead, his restraint hanging on by a thread as he tries to calm himself before he burrows into you like an absolute animal.

You grab him by his chin, guiding him to look up at you. You take his throbbing manhood into your own fingers, in place of his. He stares at you heatedly, your languid actions driving him to the edge of insanity. Your body quivers as his cockhead catches on your clit, your body still reeling from the orgasm you’d just experienced on his knee.

Zayne’s hand encompasses yours, your joined palms holding his aching cock at the base. He repeats his plea from earlier, his voice raspy and breathless, “Show me.”

His desperation makes you bite your lip in anticipation, and you nod before sinking down onto his thick member. Your body grapples with the stretch as you slide further and further down, as Zayne writhes below you, panting rapidly and fingers digging into your waist.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he rasps, fingers bruising your hips with the intensity in which they grab you, “Give me more, please love.”

You grin at his rare pleas, teasing him by stopping halfway, not letting him enter you fully. His desperate moans and grunts make you giggle, and you relish in the way his large hands hold you so possessively, in the way only you are able to make him lose control.

Zayne chuckles darkly at your teasing antics, “You don’t sound very apologetic, sweetheart.” He raises his eyebrow at you, in a playful warning. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s cut off with a scream when he slams you down on his thick length, his strong grip pulling you down until your ass meets his thighs.

The impact of your thighs against Zayne’s lap is sinful. Zayne groans at the way he can feel the globes of your ass shake against him, your pussy clenching to accommodate the sudden stretch. And Zayne doesn’t even let you ride him, instead using the raw strength of his arms and thighs to bob you up and down his length, in a rhythm that had you seeing white.

“Nnghh – P-Please Zayne!” you plead, but for what you’re not even sure. You certainly don’t want him to stop or slow down. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding on while he bounces you like you weigh absolutely nothing.

Zayne grunts in response, too lost in the feeling of how your walls cling to him, how your body responds to his touch and thrusts like he owns you.

“Always — hah — throwing yourself — fuck! — into danger. Without telling me,” he grits out, his thrusts into you harsh and passionate all at the same time. You can tell by his tone that he’s more hurt than he is angry about you running off to the frontlines of a nearby wanderer quarantine. The deep timbre of his voice conveys more worry and vulnerability than it does domination and accusation.

Your heart flutters at how adorably pouty Zayne was being, in his own way. It was rare for him to act on his emotions like this, and it reminded you of how far the two of you had come. His hands gripped you forcibly, almost as if he was afraid you’d disappear on him again. His face buried into your chest, savoring your intoxicating scent like it was the air he needed to survive. The way your warm plush skin tasted on his tongue and felt against his canines.

So you let him throw you around like a fucktoy, letting him feel how absolutely and irrevocably his, you were. You held him tightly to your chest, kissing the shell of his ear as he rutted into you like a madman, suckling on your breasts like he thought you might lactate for him. The blend of possessive domination and raw neediness was driving you insane.

Zayne tears himself away from your chest, looking up at you with heated expectation, his eyes hazy with animalistic desire, “Nothing to say, Y/N?” He punctuates his question with a harsh thrust that prods against your g-spot, all the way to your cervix.

You gasp out, almost choking for air, “M’sorry Zayne. I-I’ll make it up t’y-you.” His fingers grip you tighter as he relentlessly bounces you on his lap, his fat cock bullying into your g spot. Your teeth dig into your lip as you feel your cunt trembling, close to release.

Zayne nestles his face into the area where your neck meets your collarbone, gasping out as you get increasingly tighter, until it feels like he’s suffocating with pleasure.

“Let me cum in you,” he growls, moving back to your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts, lapping at a reddened bruise he’d unwittingly left there. Zayne normally wasn’t keen on these juvenile displays of affection, leaving hickeys like a horny highschooler. But something about the way you constantly threw yourself into the face of danger for others, left him uncharacteristically uncontrollable and unrestrained.

“Let me leave my mark in you so you know better than to go running off into danger without me again.”

A string of whimpers escapes your mouth at his possessive yet sensitive words, clearly still miffed at the memory of your injured state after saving the pair of young siblings in the quarantine zone. Your talented, self-controlled, god-like surgeon, falling apart at the seams, for you.

It’s all enough to have you at the cusp of another mind-bending orgasm, your eyes rolling up as you try to warn him, “Z-Zayne, c-close.”

Zayne chuckles as you warn him. How adorable you were to think he needed to be told, as if he didn’t know your body like the back of his hand. That he couldn’t feel the telltale way your pussy pulsed and quivered around his cock, so tightly it threatened to break him.

“Look at me, my love. I need to see you.” He rams up into you, hands possessively on your hips, bringing you down forcefully with each upward thrust. You focus your eyes on him, eyelids hooded with an exhausted pleasure.

Through your blurry vision, you can see that Zayne is close too. His jaw ticks dangerously, teeth grit to hold the swears back. His golden emerald eyes meet yours, and he smiles, his fingers threading into the back of your head.

“Just like that, look at me when you cum,” he demands, pulling your face forward to capture your lips in a final kiss that would have you tumbling down the cliff of ecstasy. His tongue demands entry, teasing the seam of your lips. His fingers cup your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone.

You moan into his mouth as your body succumbs to yet another orgasm, your fingernails scraping into his back. Zayne groans into you as the sting of your nails against his skin intensifies the pleasure of your pussy practically wringing his cock dry, forcing the orgasm out of him.

It’s a passionate and furious gnashing of tongue and skin, his thighs, wet with your release, pounding up into you. Your combined whimpers of pleasure mix with the wet smacks of your ass against his thighs, creating the most sinful blanket of lust-filled ecstasy in Zayne’s living room.

His seed erupts inside you, hot, plenty, and demanding. Demanding to be inside you. Demanding to claim you.

Zayne’s thrusts slow, but don’t stop, plugging you completely full of him. He finally pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as goosebumps of overstimulation litter his skin. He keeps going until you tap his shoulders in surrender. He chuckles, lifting you easily off of him, removing himself from you.

Your thighs quiver as you remain seated on Zayne’s lap, his fingers rubbing delicate circles on your waist. His lips brush gentle kisses on your collar, savoring the moment of intimacy and adoration that falls over the two of you.

Zayne shifts so that he can look at you, cupping your chin gently in his fingers.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” His deep voice is filled with concern, eyes searching yours, “Was I too…enthusiastic?”

You giggle tiredly, your voice filled with playful teasing, “Maybe a bit. But I loved it. I love you.”

Zayne chuckles, bringing your face back down to rest on his chest, his bare skin peeking through the robe that had become untied amidst all the movement. He cradles your head against his body, his arms secure and protective against you, his lips pressing kisses into the top of your head.

“Can you blame me?” He presses his lips into the space below your ear, leaving a trail of kissing down your neck and along your shoulders.

“When you’re constantly worried about the woman you love…it can leave one a bit pent up.”

His lips on your singed skin has you shivering against him, your fingers trailing up and down his chest, “And are you still…pent up?”

The corner of Zayne’s lips quirk up, the blood rushing back south as he feels you writhe against his most fleeting touches. Always so responsive to his touch.

Zayne uses one hand to guide your chin up towards him, his smile hungry and affectionate all at the same time. His other hand holds yours, and you jolt off his chest when he wraps your fingers around something wet, hot, and hard.

“You could say that.”

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

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saintobio · 4 months

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daddy’s little devils.

when dealing with not only one, but two mini versions of your husband is a type of chaos you never saw coming. but with him by your side, there’s nothing else in life you could’ve ever wished for.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader genre. domestic fluff, slice of life, explicit smut cw. dilf!sukuna, profanity, explicit smut, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, fellatio, spitting, unprotected, creampie, 18+ notes. 4.5k. just bcos i had to write dilf!sukuna version of this fic. enjoy >:D i was smiling throughout writing this! reblogs are highly appreciated!

Sukuna as a husband was unexpectedly romantic. Despite his cold and indifferent demeanor towards others, sometimes bordering on snarky and arrogant, he displayed a surprisingly soft side when it came to you. A really, really soft and incredibly clingy side, one where he always wants you by his side and becomes grumpy the moment you leave him alone for even a few minutes, claiming and whining about how you no longer love him. That was a hidden facet of his personality that no one else knew, a side that made him appear submissive to his wife rather than the other way around.

But to be honest, you loved that about him. You absolutely, with all your heart and soul, adored that about him.

However, Sukuna as a father was quite the mischief-maker. And having to deal with three versions of him in your life certainly didn’t make things any easier.

“Ryomen Sukuna… your sons,” you exclaimed, your voice tinged with exhaustion as you burst through the front door, “are a menace.”

Your husband was lounging on the sofa when you came home, an iPad in hand, watching as you kicked off your shoes and juggled with your bag and the twins’ belongings.

“Hey, baby,” he regarded you with a bemused expression. “What did they do this time?”

You didn’t even know where to begin. In all honesty, the question should have been: what did they not do?

“Ugh! My head hurts.” As soon as you released the bags onto the floor, you sank onto the couch, frustration evident in your visage as you ran a hand through your hair. “Raiden stabbed a classmate in the back with a crayon,” you recounted in disbelief, “And Ryuji drew your ‘tattoos’ all over himself with the teacher’s marker.”

Right on cue, the two little devils—his twin boys, his exact carbon copies—barreled into the house like the troublemakers they were.

“Papaaa!” the twins chorused, leaping into their father’s lap the moment they saw him.

Sukuna’s smirk blossomed into a grin, clearly amused and somewhat proud of his mini-me’s. “Aww, look at my little tattoo artist!” He applauded with amusement as he carried one twin on his lap. “That’s awesome, Ryuji!” Then, he turned to Raiden, who awaited his praise as well. “And Raiden, Mama said you stabbed someone? I bet your classmate was being a jerk, huh? Good job!”

The twins and their father bonded over the mischief, with Sukuna ridiculously acting as an instigator rather than reprimanding them. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse. Was he actually entertained with this whole ordeal? Jesus. You shot Sukuna a glare, finding the situation far from amusing. And as soon as he caught sight of your serious expression, his face softened into an apologetic stance, silently mouthing the word, ‘sorry’.

“Ryo, stop monkeying around,” you stated firmly, crossing your arms. “They’re causing trouble, and you do realize I had to endure a lecture about their unacceptable behavior, right?”

Only when he noticed the genuine concern in your voice did he shift his tone slightly, though you could see a hint of playfulness remaining. With your husband clearing his throat and adjusting in his seat, it seemed like he was merely putting on a show of being a ‘strict dad’ in front of you, while secretly shooting winks at his sons as if to say he was just playing around.

“Alright, alright,” he began putting on an act, addressing his twins, “You two are grounded. Go to your rooms. Now.”

Instead of showing any fear, the twins giggled as they dashed out of the living room without a care in the world—their tiny footsteps echoing all over the house as they ran recklessly. They didn’t even listen when you shouted at them to be careful. And now you couldn’t help but cross your arms, clearly dissatisfied with how your husband handled the situation in jest.

“Baby, come on,” he coaxed, drawing you closer and enveloping you in his strong embrace. You could feel his chin resting on your shoulder as he placed a kiss on your cheek. “I understand your frustration. They’re naughty when they want to be. But you have to admit, they’re showing some… initiative.”

Raising an eyebrow, you watched as he struggled to suppress a laugh at his own words. “Initiative? They’re supposed to be learning how to share and play nice, not how to terrorize their classmates!”

“Right, right. Of course,” he murmured, attempting to ease the tension with a gentle massage on your shoulders. “I understand. I’ll have a talk with them, mommy. Let’s not get angry now.”

The dilemma here was your desire to maintain the facade of a strict mom, to avoid the embarrassment of picking up your kids from daycare for causing yet another trouble. You loathed the judgmental stares from other parents, the silent accusation that you and your husband weren’t disciplining your children properly. It was as if they viewed you as terrible parents. Like you didn’t raise your kids right.

At first, their opinions didn’t bother you; after all, they knew nothing about your family beyond the PTA meetings you’ve had to attend. But time and time again, after having to offer countless apologies to the parents of your sons’ classmates and the teachers who had to deal with them, their scrutiny was starting to get into your head—that perhaps you weren’t as strict as you thought. Perhaps you were too lenient. Perhaps you needed to assert your authority over your children so they’d learn to listen to you.

Yet, despite your resolve, you couldn’t resist the charm of your twins. They were just too adorable for their own good. And, well, their dad wasn’t exactly lacking in the charm department either.

With a sigh, you leaned against his chest. “I just want them to grow up to be good, not little terrors.”

Sukuna tenderly lifted your chin, planting a soft, affectionate kiss on your lips. “I promise, they’ll turn out great. Let’s not be too hard on them.”

You had to acknowledge Sukuna’s efforts and give credit where it’s due. After he had promised to ‘talk’ to the kids, you did notice a marked improvement in their behavior since then. You and your husband used to take turns picking up the twins from daycare, but recently, he had insisted on doing it more frequently than you, saying that as his latest project had been completed, he now had more available time to pick up the twins after work.

You suspected the real reason behind his request was to alleviate your stress from constantly dealing with your sons’ antics. Knowing him, Sukuna also wanted to gauge the current atmosphere at the school by having conversations with the teachers and other parents to ensure there were no issues like bullying or other serious matters.

With that solution in place, Raiden and Ryuji became much less of a handful, and the main reason being the reward system that Sukuna had implemented for the kids, where he promised to buy them expensive toys if they earned stars for good behavior each week.

So that was how it went for the next two weeks. No calls from distressed teachers, no calls from concerned parents. In fact, the twins eagerly showed you their progress and proudly displayed the stars on their hands each time they received them. You couldn’t help but swell with pride at their accomplishments, because as small as they were to some people, they were huge achievements for you and your husband as their supportive parents.

At least, you could relax for now. With the twins having toned down their mischievous shenanigans, your mind was more at ease. To be fair, they might seem like little devils wherever they went, but when they were peacefully sleeping like they were now on the couch, they appeared as absolute angels in your eyes.

The living room was bathed in a dim light, with the glow of the TV screen illuminating their cute, little faces as they snuggled up together on the couch, in their peaceful slumber sandwiched between you and your husband. They had dozed off before the movie ended, and now, with the credits rolling, your family movie night concluded earlier than expected.

“My precious babies,” you cooed in a hushed voice, gently stroking Ryuji’s cheek and planting a kiss on Raiden’s nose. Their eyes, their brows, their nose, their lips—every detail was taken from their father, and nothing from you. But you didn’t mind, because you knew just how strikingly handsome they would be when they grow up. “Looks like our little troublemakers couldn’t make it to the end of the movie.”

Sukuna chuckled softly and glanced down at his sleeping sons with a fond smile. In holding his family close, he could feel that blissful warmth flooding his heart at the sigh of his wife and his kids snuggled together. “They’re tired today. Didn’t even last an hour into watching Megamind.”

You smiled, carefully rising from the couch so as not to disturb the sleeping twins. The moment you caught your husband’s eye, you gestured for him to lift Raiden into his arms. “Let’s get them to bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, scooping up Raiden, while you lifted Ryuji, and together you carried your kids to their room.

After tucking each twin into bed and giving them a final kiss on the forehead, you motioned for your husband to quietly exit the room with you. He was still adjusting the AC for their comfort before following you out close behind. The lights in their room now completely switched off.

“They’re out like a light,” Sukuna whispered as both of you made your way towards the master bedroom.

You stifled a yawn, stretching your arms. “Finally, some peace and quiet.”

“Nuh-uh,” countered your husband, who was now grinning mischievously as he stopped in his tracks and grabbed you by the waist. “Not so soon, wife.”

Before you knew it, you were pressed against the wall, a mere few inches outside your bedroom’s door, caged between your husband’s toned arms as he looked down at you like a lion looking at its prey. His animalistic gaze never failed to send you into an orbit of weakness, like always. “H-Hey.”

A teasing smirk then appeared on his handsome face. “You know, babe, now that the boys are asleep, we could really make good use of this time.”

“Really, now?” You held back a chuckle, cheeks heating up from the wanton desire on your husband’s eyes. As you crossed your arms and leaned against the wall, you didn’t realize that such action only caused him to go even crazier than he already was.

“Dammit.” His eyes danced in lust as he stared at your cleavage when you crossed your arms. He had good self-control, too. That was… until he couldn’t resist it anymore. He had to have his hand squeeze one breast gently, fondling the rounded mass like they were his personal stress balls. “Are you ovulating, honey? They look huge.”

You weren’t sure as it had been while since you tracked it, but your breasts did feel heavier lately. And sore, too, because he was kneading them. “Hmm. I might be expecting my period soon.”

Very playfully, Sukuna leaned forward to trail kisses along your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin as he spoke, “What do you say we add another one to the bunch?” was his whispered suggestion, “A little girl, maybe? I know a few positions.”

“Are you serious?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. “With these two little devils wreaking havoc, you still want to add more chaos to the mix?”

His finger was already looping around the strap of your nightgown, pulling it down with a salacious upward curve of his lips. “You know you love the chaos, babe.” You could feel his hands moving to grab a handful of your buttocks, squeezing your bum eagerly. “Plus, imagine all the mischief our little girl could get up to.”

You couldn’t help it either—the desire, the tension. Not to mention, your husband was looking undeniably hot right now, with the muscles on his chest pressing against yours, making you want nothing but to see him shirtless again. Those toned abs, those muscular arms. God. His lips were also soft and sweet when he pulled you into an open-mouthed kiss

“You are,” you mumbled in between kisses, breathing heavily against his mouth, “very naughty, mister.”

You felt him smirking through your kiss before he grabbed your thighs, and lifted you up so you could wrap them around his waist. The kissing, the very intense kissing, with his tongue rolling against yours and you moaning against his mouth, was already as erotic as it could get. When was the last time you two had sex? Last week? You couldn’t remember which specific day it was, but you did recall it being only a quick one in the shower. This time, it definitely wouldn’t be a quickie as he seemed to have plans in giving you a sleepless night.

Sukuna carefully placed you down in your king-sized bed, pulling his shirt off and once again crawling above you to hungrily meet your lips with his. And did you mention he was a good multitasker? As he nibbled on your lower lip, breathing you in like you were an addicting drug he couldn’t get enough off, his fingers were also rubbing your clothed entrance, pulling your underwear to the side to touch your moist cunt.

“Mhmm—!”

Two fingers entered you without warning, and he pulled away from the kiss to look at the face you were making as he used his digits to find your sweet spot. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Y/N.”

You arched your back, spreading your legs wide open to give him full access to your core. The moment he was able to reach your g-spot, you could feel your lower abdomen coiling from the intense wave of pleasure that was coursing through your body. “Nghh—yes, daddy. That’s it!”

A few more pumps, hard and fast, had you gasping for air like a fish out of the ocean. He seemed to have loved the sight too, as he kept his dark, sultry eyes fixed on you while he fingered you like there was no tomorrow. “You’re one hot mama, aren’t you?” he asked, withdrawing his fingers and sucking on them to taste your slick. “Can I fuck your mouth, baby?”

“‘Mmkay,” you answered, pulling yourself up to help him rid himself of his pajamas. The sight of his bulge—his big, angry bulge—made you all the more excited. You had seen him many times before and knew just how huge his member could grow when aroused, but it still didn’t change the fact that seeing his fully erect cock surprised you every single time. Because it was thick, it was long, it was meaty, it was veiny. “Gosh, lovey. You’re huge.”

He obviously liked hearing that. Not only did you inflate his ego, it also made him desire you even more as he positioned his shaft on your face, pulling your hair into a ponytail. “Open your mouth.”

Like a good girl, you did as told. And your eyes went wide as he forced his cock inside, thrusting balls deep in and out of your mouth. He was doing it roughly to the point where your eyes pooled with tears because your gag reflex kept on fighting back. You couldn’t even taste him properly because your saliva was coating his entire length, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling in satisfaction as you watched your husband throw his head back from the utmost pleasure of being inside your mouth.

“Ah, fuck. Fuck.” He cussed multiple times, jostling his hips before pulling his member out. “Your mouth’s so warm.”

For a moment, you replaced your mouth with your hand, an elbow propped on the other as you stroked his girthy length. You jacked him off at the pace you knew he preferred, and placed your tongue flat on the swollen pink head like it was a lollipop. You were kissing the tip with your eyes staring back at him, ultimately driving him into insanity. “Like that, daddy?”

“Fuck yes,” he grunted, his vulgar thoughts now consuming his actions as he grabbed your chin up, only to then spit in your mouth. “I’m gonna get you pregnant tonight,” he declared in a deep, raspy voice, “Gonna fill up that pretty little pussy with my cum.”

Damn, he’s serious about it?

As embarrassing as it may sound, you could feel your pussy clenching from his lewd words. “You want a baby girl for real?”

Your husband lowered himself down to meet your level, undressing you impatiently like a rabid dog who was ready to bite its victim. And in your naked glory, he then spread your legs apart and rubbed his shaft in between your labia. “I do,” he said, puppy eyes hoping for you to say yes, “I want a baby girl, please. Please. Please.”

Could you even resist this man?

You gave him an answer by nodding, holding your smile by biting your lower lip as you watched your silly husband reach through the nightstand in search of the lube. Because he was too crazed with excitement, a couple packs of unused condoms fell out of the drawer as he grabbed the strawberry-colored tube.

“Take it easy. Jeez,” you teased.

“You’re driving me nuts here.”

You decided to tease him even more by touching yourself, your fingers doing circular motions on your clit as your husband coated his entire length with the water-based lube. The smell of artificial strawberry permeated through the air, and with it being your favorite scent, you felt more stimulated than ever. “Mmm. I want you inside me now, lovey.”

“What mommy wants, mommy gets,” he joked, manhandling both your legs into placing it above his shoulders and putting you into his favorite position. The classic missionary. “Ah, shit.” He buried his member agonizingly slow. “Why… are… you so damn tight tonight?”

Maybe because you were clenching around his cock, squeezing his angry member with your velvet walls and giving him that extra good grip he always went absolutely wild for. “A-Aah! Y-You love it.”

“Fuck, yeah.” He began thrusting now. Using his thumb to spread your slit apart, he delighted in seeing his cock go in and out of your entrance, watching the full length be swallowed by your cavern entirely. And he was going from slow and sensual, to rough and fast in less than a minute.

He was just far too deep inside. Now, you were losing hold on your sanity as with every jostle of your body, your insides were also reacting more and more violently with your knees and thighs shaking. The skin slapping sounds were bouncing across the room, and you were hoping, praying, that your soundproof walls worked well enough not to wake your innocent twins. Because at this rate, you were going to squirt all over their father. It had been sometime since you felt the need to pee during intercourse, but that also speaks of just how intense Sukuna was plowing his hardened cock inside of you.

“D-Daddy, I… I’m…”

He attached his mouth on your right tit, playing his tongue around the nipple. “Mhm… You’re so sexy, mommy.”

Two little boys. And your husband still won’t stop until he gets his little girl.

Your mind was a whirlwind that night. The events that followed became such a blur because your pleasure overpowered your ability to think straight. All you could remember was Sukuna releasing his warm load into your womb after chasing his climax, and immediately after, he had your body twisted around and positioned into what he refers ‘the undefeated’ doggy style.

Gosh, he was telling the truth when he said he was going to fuck you all night with no breaks in between.

Because now, you were on all fours, being pounded from behind as you had your hands gripping the sheets each time he propelled his body forward. He was shoving his cock from behind like it was his day job, already familiar with the perfect angle and depth in which he had to rut you in. With his hands holding your hips in place, he raised one leg on the mattress, and the other knee still intact, to fuck you senseless.

“Mmm—Aah! Haah!”

The deeper he penetrated you, the lower your upper body went. You were now in a position with your chest down low, and your ass up high so that he could see your hole in a much, much better view. “You think you can take ‘nother round after this, babe?” he asked, breathless as he reached forward to squeeze your tit. “I don’t wanna push your limits.”

“I-I don’t t-think I c-can…”

You could hear his deep chuckle despite your frenzied state, and soon enough, he was increasing the speed of his thrusts once more, cursing and moaning while doing so, before shooting thick ropes of seed inside your cunt.

He collapsed next to you right after that, while you were completely limp in labored breaths as you lay beside him. The feeling of his semen dripping out of your pussy had you reaching for your husband’s arm, pointing towards the box of tissue with your half-lidded eyes. You were too sore to move.

Sukuna immediately got the cue. “I got it,” he said, pecking your lips before doing the task of wiping the mess on your body. And as soon as he was able to clean you off, he quickly went back beside you, pulling you into a sweet, husbandly embrace. “Good night, beautiful.”

You hummed in your drowsy state, his chest becoming the perfect pillow for your head to sleep on. “Night, night, handsome.”

Good lord was his body sore.

But was that the greatest fucking sex he has ever had? Hell yes. It was so good that he even dreamed of it.

As the morning sun streamed through the curtains, the aftermath of your passionate night was evident in the tousled sheets and sleepy smiles that you both had that morning. He still had you in his arms, your body secured around his as he pressed his lips into your temple.

“Good morning, my love.”

You stirred awake, blinking sleepily as you stretched beneath the warmth of the covers. He could tell you were still groggy from last night’s events, and he was a hundred percent certain that you were also too sore to walk. “Morning, lovey.”

But before he could savor the domestic moment with you, the bedroom door burst open, and a fully awakened Raiden and Ryuji came in with their energy back at 100%. Oh, boy. Sukuna just had to forget locking the door last night.

Raiden, in his polka pjs, was jumping up and down excitedly. “Mama! Papa! Wake up!”

He was joined by his twin brother, Ryuji, who was in his striped pajamas, skipping around the room. “We want pancakes, pwease!”

Sukuna could feel you stiffening next to him, and he saw the look of panic in your eyes upon realizing that you were very much naked under the sheets. So, hastily and frantically, your beloved husband pulled the duvet, covering your chest from being exposed and hoping to conceal any tell-tale marks.

“Shh! Keep it down, boys,” he reprimanded the twins, “Mama and Papa are still sleeping.”

The stubborn Ryuji placed his hands on his hips. “But you’re awake, Papa!”

On the other hand, Raiden, who climbed the king-sized bed, was pointing towards his mother. “Mama, what’s on your shoulder?”

At the sight of the marks, Sukuna’s eyes widened in alarm and his cheeks were limned with a crimson hue. His mind raced for a plausible explanation because those exact bruises on your shoulder were, in fact, hickeys. So before you could speak, he took it upon himself to handle the matter. “That... It’s, uh, a battle wound.” He mentally kicked himself for such a ridiculous lie. “Mama’s very brave, you see. She fought off a giant mosquito last night.”

You stifled a laugh, burying your face into the pillow for a moment, and later deciding to play along. “That’s right,” you agreed, nodding seriously. “Mama’s a warrior.”

Raiden and Ryuji, however, were too smart for this as the twins exchanged skeptical glances, clearly not buying their parents' explanation. And with Raiden being the more vocal one, he pointed it out first. “But why does it look like a bunch of tiny kisses?”

Sukuna struggled now, and while he was still thinking of another excuse, you finally stepped in to try and save the day.

And thank the heavens, you handled it a lot more casually than he did. “It’s a secret,” you said, smiling at your kids, “Mama and Papa have a secret game they play sometimes. Right, Papa?”

Your husband quickly joined in on your little antic. “That’s right, it’s a secret game! But it’s only for grown-ups,” he clarified to the curious twins, who were clearly intrigued by this mysterious ‘game’. “You two aren’t old enough to play yet.”

The twins exchanged curious glances, their skepticism giving way to fascination. “Okay,” Raiden said slowly, still pondering the explanation. Ryuji just shrugged, accepting it more readily.

Only then did Sukuna breathe a silent sigh of relief as he was grateful for your quick thinking. But with children like these two, the interrogation was clearly far from over because Ryuji decided to make things even more complicated when he picked up an unused packet of condom on the floor, its bright red color attracting his interest. “Mama, is this candy?” asked your son, pointing to the strawberry logo, “Can I have it?”

“No, sweetheart, that’s not candy,” you softly spoke. The composure in your voice was outstanding. Sukuna should definitely learn a thing or two from you. “Give it to Mama.”

And while you dealt with the other twin, Raiden jumped out of bed and tugged at his father’s arm persistently. “Papa, pancakes!” he demanded, throwing a tantrum as he chanted. “Pancakes! Pancakes! We want pancakes!”

“Okay, okay!” The father sighed inwardly, shooting you a look for help as if he was their slave for the day. All you could do was chuckle and mouth ‘you got this’ back to him. Well, he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? “Coming right up, you little monsters.”

“Yayy!”

“Woohoo!”

You, barely handling the noise at six in the morning, groaned playfully next to your husband. “See? Having another kid isn’t as easy as you think,” you told him, “We can barely handle these two.”

Sukuna displayed a grin, running a hand through his hair as he looked at his wife and your little ones. “Boys, do you want a baby sister? Yes or yes?”

Raiden and Ryuji, in unison, answered giddily. “Yes! We want a baby sister!”

A look of defeat clouded your eyes, while your husband laughed and kissed your forehead. “You heard them, love,” he reminded, softly, “I want my baby girl soon.”

He knew that, despite your playful protest, having a daughter was a shared desire. “Fine.”

So in swift movements, your husband slipped into his pants beneath the covers, then got out of bed to scoop up the twins in his arms. “Alright, breakfast time you two!” he announced, heading towards the door with his sons cheering together. And just before leaving, he cast one last tender smile in your direction.

“I love you, Y/N. Chaos and all.”

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #dilf!sukuna #dad!sukuna

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aemondsbabe · 10 months

Text

The Gods and Everyone

summary: you and aemond sorely overestimate how much time you have before a small council meeting, which leaves the two of you in quite a scandalous predicament

pairing: aemond targaryen x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, cockwarming, public sex, slight breeding kink, fingering, aemond being an absolute menace, dirty talk, aegon being a little shit but what else is new, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 5.6k

a/n: based on an anon request for cockwarming! i hope you're still with me and that you enjoy this, friend! sorry it took me so long to get to it!

creds to @bbygirl-aemond for the gif!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

You watch, concerned, as your husband flits around the Small Council chamber, your eyes following his lithe form as he checks and re-checks the parchment with notes he had written for himself earlier that morning – you’d awoken in the pale hour just before sunrise to see him already hunched over the small desk in your chambers, scribbling away furiously with a quill, his pale hair glowing in the dim light of the candle next to him. All of your attempts to lure him back into bed with you had fallen on deaf ears.

“You know you needn't do all this,” you point out, perched against the Small Council table, your eyes tracking him as he paces back and forth across the space, going over his notes for the upteenth time, “Your only job is to be on time like everyone else, husband.”

“Things will improve with time,” he rushes out, fixing you with a pointed look, “Hardly two moons have passed since Viserys…” He pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, “The least I can do is ease this transition for Aegon and mother.”

“My love, it is a transition for us all,” you soothe, striding to him and gently taking his hand. His fingers, rough from all his years of training with swords and spears, instantly wrap around your own as he lets out a tired sigh, “You included. Aegon named you Master of War, not master of everything.”

“I know,” Aemond murmurs, eye softening as his gaze traces over you, “I find it hard to be still when there is so much chaos – Dorne has yet to be subdued and there are whispers of rebellion from the North. There is so much still to be accounted for.”

“I understand,” you reassure him, your fingers threading through his long, silvery hair, lips quirking into a smile as the gesture makes his eye flutter closed for a second. “But all this stress cannot be good for you, husband,” you sigh, gazing up at him with a mournful smile, “You need rest and calm and…and I need you.” You nearly whisper, blush creeping across your cheeks as Aemond’s eye darkens.

“Sweetling—“ He starts with a sigh.

“Aemond, please,” you cut him off, wrapping your arms around his trim waist as you lay your head against his chest, his heart thumping in your ear, “I cannot bear to hear another excuse, I feel as if you have been away for weeks.”

He’s quiet for a moment, wrapping his long, lean arms tightly around you as he rests his chin on your head, your breaths the only sound in the stony chamber. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, smoothing a hand up and down your back, “I miss you too, my sweet girl.”

You hum, leaning further into his embrace after going without it for so long, “You haven’t touched me in weeks.” You say quietly, his touch already igniting a spark in the pit of your stomach.

“Perhaps tonight,” his breath is warm against the top of your head as he speaks into your hair, “I will try to cut my meeting with–”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” you cut him off once more with a sigh, pulling back to look up at him, “I can’t take anymore, my love, I need to feel you.” You whine, nearly petulant like a spoiled child. If it were any other time, if you were any less desperate, you’d be embarrassed at your behavior. Right now, though, you could not find it within yourself to care as you stared into your husband’s darkened eye, finally feeling the passion you had gone so many weeks without.

Aemond chuckles as he looks down at you, conflicted between feeling pleased to see you reduced to such a state while also feeling a similar fire in his own belly. “Sweetling, the meeting–”

“Is not due to start for at least another hour!” You interrupt, determined to persuade him to this. Taking you in various parts of the Keep was not new to him, both of you had plenty of memories from your courtship and first year of marriage of rutting together in all sorts of nooks and crannies of the old castle.

Aemond gazes at you for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, though his eye remains dark with desire. After a second, he nods to himself almost imperceptibly, seeming to come to some decision you weren’t privy to. Finally, finally his lips descend upon yours as he sweeps you into an all-consuming kiss, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulls you to him, groaning lowly in his throat as he licks into your mouth. You shiver in his grasp, finally tasting him properly after so long as you whimper and whine into his mouth.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you finally part from him, mewling as he immediately trails kisses down your jaw, “What–”

“Seems I can never deny you for very long, sweetling,” he huffs, halfway laughing as he guides you over to the large table, pulling you up by the waist until you’re sitting on the cool stone table, your legs bracketing his trim waist, “I’ve missed you too, my love.” He confesses, sweeping a lock of hair from your shoulder before trailing kisses up across your neck and jaw, one hand already desperately pulling up the bottom of your gown.

You huff out small moans and whimpers, relishing his warm touch. His nimble fingers finally manage to undo the knot at the front of your smallclothes and he tugs them down quickly, leaving you bare for him under your skirts as they fall to a pile on the floor just beside his chair at the table.

“Husband,” you pant, tugging at the drawstrings at the top of his trousers, “Please, please do not make me beg today, I–” Your train of thought is cut off as a moan, louder than it should be given the location, tears itself from your throat when you feel his long fingers ghost over your center.

“Shh, darling,” Aemond grins as he feels your arousal immediately coat his fingers, a pleased hum emanating from deep in his chest as he feels it already coating the insides of your thighs as well, “I don’t have the patience to restrain myself today, sweet one,” he mutters, watching your face carefully as he spreads your folds and teases your entrance with a finger before carefully sliding it in, groaning with satisfaction at the feel of your walls already tightly clamping down on it, “Nor the time.” He adds with a slight smirk, pale hair cascading like a curtain down his shoulders as he leans his forehead against yours.

“Oh, Gods,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut as your hands white knuckle the dark leather of his tunic, too uncoordinated with lust to manage the ties on his pants, “M-My love, more please!” You whisper, angling your hips to try and catch another of his fingers.

You hear him chuckle above you before he pulls his finger from you, smirking as you whine pitifully at the loss. Before you have a chance to protest, he quickly undoes his trousers, not bothering to pull them down at all and opting to merely loosen the laces at the front enough to free his cock. Your eyes widen as you watch his hand stroke over his length momentarily, taking in the way it already throbs in his grasp, the head flushed and leaking from merely having you in his hands once more.

“Ready, sweetling?” He asks, gently tilting your chin up as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his other hand positioning his length at your entrance.

You part from him and nod eagerly, widening your legs and angling your hips, “I’ve been ready for you for weeks, Aemond.”

He smiles softly, pressing one more kiss against your neck before finally pressing into you, growling as he sinks into your slick heat. “Seven,” he grunts, cradling the back of your head with one hand as his other slinks down to grab at your hip, “You feel better every time, sweetling.”

You moan hotly against his shoulder, sinking your teeth into the thick leather of the shoulder of his tunic in an attempt to quiet yourself. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feel of him sliding into you, filling you to the brim perfectly. You’ve been without him for so long that he feels enormous, your walls aching as he stretches you out, pressing in and in until he’s finally seated fully within you.

Without another word, Aemond started thrusting into you, slow at first but quickly picking up the pace with every firm roll of his hips into you. After only a moment, he’s already grunting like a madman into your ear, holding you to him even as you cling tightly to his shoulders yourself, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist.

You feel a fire building in your belly at a breakneck pace as he ruts into you, the hand on your hip no doubt leaving fingerprint bruises across your skin, even through the fabric of your gown. If the low groans from your husband are any indication, he isn’t doing much better. He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you into a desperate kiss, teeth and tongues clashing together frantically as if the two of you are trying to fall into each other, to become one.

“My love, I—,” he pants against your lips, jerking your head back by the grip he has on your locks. His eye meets yours, the light lilac almost entirely eclipsed by his pupil as he stares at you hungrily, “It’s been so long, I don’t know how long I can last.”

His breath is warm as it fans over your lips and you nod dazedly, zings of pleasure radiating up your spine from Aemond’s grip in your hair only adding to the warmth quickly threatening to overtake you. “It’s okay,” you swallow thickly, eyes already rolling back with pleasure, “I can’t either.”

Nodding in return, he picks up the pace, the head of his cock rutting against the most sensitive spot within you hard enough to make you see stars. He hasn’t even needed to tease your pearl and you’re already nearly unraveling as Aemond mumbles nearly incoherent praises, the hand on your hip traveling lower, nearly cupping your ass.

Just as you’re about to warn him of your inevitable release, muffled voices sound from behind the thick wooden doors that lead into the Small Council chambers. Aemond slows within you as both of your heads swivel to the doors — just in time to hear the guards stationed outside begin to tug them open.

You freeze, eyes widening as the doors open, seemingly in slow motion. Thankfully, your husband moves quickly enough for the both of you, nimbly scooping you into his arms before hastily dropping down into his chair, hurriedly scooching it forward until both of your laps are hidden under the stone surface of the table, before kicking your smallclothes under the table at the last second.

Your head whips around to face Aemond and you give him a panicked, wide-eyed look just as people start filing into the room, unaware that you’re still being split open by your husband’s length. One hand, still on your hip, tightens, silently commanding you to be still as his lilac eye pleads the same; his other hand is already poised on the table, relaxed against the cool surface as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Yes, yes, we must certainly ask him once he’s back in King’s Landing,” Lord Tyland’s voice fills the chamber as he walks in, engaged in a conversation about something or other with Lord Corlys, the two sharing a laugh before finally taking notice of you and Aemond, “Prince, princess.” Tyland bows his head at the two of you with Corlys following soon after.

You sit frozen atop your husband, gazing blankly at the two men without a word. Thankfully, Aemond has the presence of mind to bow his head politely, though he stays quiet. As they walk further into the room, you can only see Tyland and Corlys from the corner of your eye but you don’t miss the odd look they share, silently asking each other why you were present and certainly why you were sitting on Aemond’s lap. Blood rushes to your head so quickly you feel lightheaded, your cheeks stinging as a harsh blush quickly appears on your face from their attention.

Maester Orwyle files through the doorway next, doing a double take at you and Aemond before bowing his head, a gesture that you thankfully remember to return this time as you stiffly nod your head. Thankfully, the older man simply takes a seat at his place at the table without any comment, though you can hear the two other men speaking quietly in the corner of the room, throwing glances your way as they do.

Your walls tighten around Aemond’s length as the rest of you tenses up when Larys creeps in, leaning against his cane as he moves; Aemond thighs tense underneath you as you hear him suck in a breath, only slightly more hasty than normal — the hand in your hip tightens, warning you to keep it together.

“Prince Aemond, princess,” Larys nods as he approaches the table, “To what do we owe the pleasure of such… intriguing company?” He questions, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes ever so slightly, his eyes bouncing between you and Aemond.

Your head spins as you stare straight ahead, willing yourself to respond, to say anything, to appear somehow normal. Yet, nothing comes out as your center throbs uselessly around Aemond, your head cloudy with need as your eyes stare ahead blankly, though registering just enough to pick up on the small smirk playing at the corners of Larys’s lips.

“My wife appears to have taken ill this morning,” Aemond drawls from over your shoulder while affectionately petting your waist, a gesture entirely for show, a lie to placate the men in the room, but it comforts you nonetheless. He clears his throat before continuing, the only tell thus far that your warmth around him is affecting him at all, “My presence brings her great comfort, I see no reason why she should be without it.”

“I see,” Larys hums in response, his dark eyes sweeping over your form, sparkling ominously as if he knows the truth, “What shame, let us hope the Gods grant you reprieve from this…illness soon, princess.”

“Yes!” You finally squeak, snapping back to attention as Aemond just barely squeezes your side, “Yes, let’s hope so. Thank you, Lord Larys.” You breathe, managing a smile small.

You shift on your husband’s lap and immediately you know you’ve made a mistake as the head of his cock prods directly into that overly sensitive patch within you, nearly making you topple over on the spot as a small groan escapes you. Blessedly, you have enough presence of mind to cover it up with a cough, sparks jolting down your back as Aemond presses a soft kiss to your cheek, one of his hands coming up to rub soothing circles against the back of your shoulder.

“There, there, sweetling,” he says softly, again, entirely for show as you put on your best performance, “Once the meeting is over, we will have the servants make some tea for you, that will help with that cough.” Even if it was for show, you couldn’t help but shiver at Aemond’s low voice, at how he’s being so soft and caring with you. That, combined with the incessant prodding to your sweet spot, has you throbbing around him, your heart hammering in your chest. You can hear Aemond suck in another barely there gasp behind you, a groan low enough to remain silent rumbling against your back while at the same time his hand almost imperceptibly twitches on the table; his composure makes you feel all the more lightheaded, blushing somehow deeper at the fact that he’s taking you apart this easily without so much as moving a muscle. Your thighs trembled atop his lap, the insides already sticky with your arousal as you struggled to stay still, silently thanking the Gods that at least your laps were hidden.

“I’m sorry,” Corlys began, striding over from his spot in the corner with a sheepish look, “I really feel I must speak up, this is really most unusual.” He finishes through an awkward laugh, Tyland following closely behind him as they saddle up to the table.

“What is most unusual?” Alicent asks, entering the Small Council chambers with Otto, followed closely after by Aegon and Ser Criston. Her eyes sweep over the room, pausing when she sees you, though she quickly corrects herself with a soft smile. “Ah, my dear,” she nods hello to the various men in the room before sitting at the table, “May I ask why your wife joins us, Aemond?” She peers at him curiously, throwing a nervous glance at Aegon who is smirking far too much for her liking as he slinks up to the table.

“It seems the princess has fallen ill, your grace,” Larys answers quickly, slyly smiling as he turns to face the dowager queen, “Prince Aemond insisted she stay so that she may be…comforted.” You quickly look away from him as his eyes meet yours once again, piercing through you as though he can see directly through your gown.

“Yes, which is most odd,” Tyland butted in, throwing glances between you, Aemond, Alicent, and Aegon, “She is not a member of the council, she should not be present. Surely there is some way the princess could be comforted that does not involve being privy to government matters.”

Aemond stays silent behind you, glaring daggers at Aegon over your shoulder, watching carefully as he traipses over to the table and stands at its head, his eyes never straying from his brother’s as they stare one another down. The other members, some reluctantly, take their places at the table as well, each of them standing so long as Aegon does, though you and Aemond remain seated; your eyes never stray from the marbled surface of the table.

“Aemond, please,” Otto sighs from his place next to you, “The least you and the princess could do is stand for–”

“I see him everyday,” Aegon interjects, breaking eye contact with your husband as he rolls his eyes, “I don’t give a shit if the fool stands.”

Your eyes dart up at that, shocked that Aegon isn’t taking the chance to thoroughly humiliate Aemond by putting him on the spot. The king’s violet eyes meet yours, sparkling with a mischief that makes your center flutter around your husband’s length – Aegon’s smirk grows as if he knows exactly what just happened. A thin sheen of sweat makes you feel clammy as Aemond’s cock twitches inside of you, pushing him against your sweet spot all the more.

“Very well,” Alicent swiftly cuts in, determined to keep the peace, “Shall we get st–”

“Are we really going to allow for the presence of–” Corlys starts, only to be viciously cut off.

“She stays,” Aegon says flatly, shooting a bored look at the man, “If anyone has an issue with the princess’s presence they may take their leave.” His violet eyes pass over the room, almost daring anyone to move. Everyone remains still, though you can feel Tyland and Corlys glaring at the side of your head, and after a moment, Aegon takes his seat followed by everyone else; blessedly, the meeting finally begins.

The Small Council meeting drones on and on, with various conversations of coin and ships, concerns abroad in Essos, and other diplomatic matters that mean nothing to you. In the back of your mind, you know it’s hardly been any time at all but it feels like an eternity has passed with Aemond’s hard length still piercing into you, twitching against your pulsing walls every so often. A part of you wonders if he does it on purpose, gives you just enough stimulation to cruelly tease you before going stock still once more.

The small, unnoticeable to everyone but you, hitches of his breath tell you otherwise and deep down, you know he’s just as affected as you, no doubt steadily leaking into you, though you dare not consider the thought for very long.

“Aemond,” your breath catches in your throat as Otto directs his attention to your husband, everyone else's gaze quickly following, “Any further communications from Dorne?”

Behind you, your husband clears his throat and you feel him shift beneath you, sitting up slightly straighter in his seat, both hands now clasping your waist to keep you steady on top of him. “Negotiations with the Dornish remain stagnant,” he begins as you practically wilt on his lap, the added attention from the council members making the knot in your belly tighten in a way you shudder to consider, “We received a raven from Prince Qoren some days ago rejecting any dealings with the crown, no matter the amount of coin we have to offer.” He finishes, pointedly looking at Tyland, who proceeds to butt in.

As soon as the attention shifts off of the two of you, it’s like the air around Aemond changes, becoming charged all of a sudden as you feel his chest heave against your back. At the other end of the table, Tyland begins to raise his voice, debating hotly with Corlys and Otto, drawing the attention of everyone else to them.

“Do you think you can be still?” Aemond whispers, his breath hot against your ear although his voice is barely audible even to you. He must sense you freeze on his lap as the hand on your hip begins to move slowly, dragging your skirts up your legs until his hand can slip underneath them, making you tremble as he grips the soft skin of your thigh, “Tighten around my cock if you can be still.”

Against your better judgment, you do as he says, tensing as you clench your walls around him; his only reply is a low growl against your back. He stays still for a moment, trying with all of his might to appear as if he’s taking great interest in the ongoing argument taking place.

Finally, once he’s positive everyone is too preoccupied arguing over coin to pay attention to either of you, his deft fingers slip through your folds before finally twirling against your aching pearl.

You have to bite harshly at the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, trying to keep your breathing steady as you focus on not moving even though you so badly want to rut your hips against his fingers as they rub against you.

Aemond swallows thickly behind you as he slowly circles his fingers, careful to keep his pace light and steady to not stir up any slick sounds from your wet cunt, though he longs to hear them.

Your elbows rest against the top of the table, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. The conversation around you seems to shift as Otto begins prattling on about some Tyrell woman finally being with child. Aemond’s fingers suddenly pinch at your sensitive bud and a gasp tumbles past your lips before you can stop it, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Is everything alright, princess?” Alicent questions from across the table, her dark eyes narrowed with concern.

You nod quickly, coughing to conceal a moan as you open your mouth to answer her, “Y-Yes, I’m sorry,” you apologize with a weak smile, “I’m just so pleased for the Tyrells, what a j-joyous time this must be for them.” You say quickly, stumbling over the words as your core clenches tightly around your husband’s cock, his small touches driving you steadily to your peak despite the circumstances.

Alicent gives you a curious look before quickly collecting herself, “Yes, I’m sure the family is quite thankful, children are always such a blessing,” she smiles politely before turning back to her father, “Please, continue.”

Otto’s voice hardly reaches your ears as he picks up where he left off, though you don’t miss the horribly put out looks you garner from Tyland and Corlys.

Aemond’s fingers just barely speed up as they swirl over your bud, though the small change is enough to drive you wild and you can feel the way his chest heaves against your back as your walls twitch around his length, threatening to milk his cock dry without him having to move an inch.

The heat that has slowly been building within you finally begins to bubble over and your husband’s fingers show no signs of stopping as he pushes you closer and closer to your breaking point. The hand of his that has been resting idly on the table top comes over to casually rest against your clenched hands and rubs soothingly up and down your forearm, Aemond’s silent way of telling you he knows you’re close.

Your eyes flick around the room as you feel your peak threatening to spill over you, frantically checking for any onlookers at the last possible second. You nearly jump out of your skin as your eyes finally land on Aegon, only to find him already staring at you, an amused smirk plastered across his face as he studies you.

Aemond chooses that exact second to pinch at your pearl again and the small touch is your undoing. Your teeth bite down firmly on your tongue as your walls pulse rhythmically around your husband’s leaking cock, your eyes still locked on Aegon’s violet ones, now darkened with lust.

Your muscles tense up as you peak helplessly, waves of pleasure lighting up every nerve ending within you. Somehow, you find it within yourself to remain quiet and still on Aemond’s lap as your eyes finally flick away from his older brother’s and you gaze, apparently absentmindedly, at some point on the wall on the opposite side of the room as your high subsides.

Thankfully, Aemond takes pity on you and slips his hand away, his wet fingers resting gently in your bare thigh, still underneath your gown.

You slowly come down from your high as the Small Council winds down, Aegon and Otto quickly discussing a few final points before the king formally adjourns the meeting. Tyland and Corlys practically bolt from their chairs, quickly bowing before they exit as they mumble between themselves, no doubt about the displeasure of your presence.

Otto and Maester Orwyle take their leave soon after, each bowing politely. Aegon busies himself at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair as he lazily sips from his wine cup, the gleam in his eyes making you shiver.

Across the room, Alicent and Larys whisper between themselves. Strangely, your mother-in-law blushes, shaking her head suddenly and mumbling a quiet, “Not here,” before glancing around the room.

Larys merely shrugs, turning to you as he shuffles from the room, “Do get better soon, princess.” He says with a feeble bow, although the look on his face makes you blush heavily.

At that, Alicent turns to Aegon, “Would you care to come see the children with me?”

“Go on,” he dismisses her before nodding toward you and Aemond, “I wish to have a word with my brother.” He catches your eye with a quick wink.

“Of course,” Alicent mutters, glancing curiously between the three of you, “I’ll ask the maids to bring some tea to your chambers this evening, princess. They make a wonderful lemon one that always seems to lift my spirits.” She says with a kind smile, coming around to place a comforting hand on your shoulder before she too heads to the door.

“Thank you!” You breathily call after her, voice squeaking at the end as Aemond shuffles impatiently beneath you, his cock still prodding against your sensitive walls.

Aegon chuckles darkly as soon as the doors close once more, standing from his chair with a wide smirk. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he taunts, eyes glinting as he looks between you and his brother, “I didn’t think either of you had that much gaul in you.”

“What exactly are you tittering about now?” Aemond asks lowly behind you, his voice rough and choppy as his patience clearly wears thin.

Sniggering, Aegon saunters around to stand beside you, violet eyes scanning over your laps still concealed under the table, “You’ve had your cock in her the whole time, have you not?” He teases, laughing harder still as Aemond merely hums in response, “Come brother, you should be proud of yourself,” he clasps a hand over your husband's shoulder, “She was nearly falling apart when she peaked.” He comments with a final wink as he ambles to the door, stopping to throw one last amused look over his shoulder, “You might want to do something about that bite mark on your shoulder.” He says casually before slamming the doors closed behind him.

At his comment, you whirl around and your eyes grow wide as you spy a clear impression of your teeth marks in the leather of Aemond’s tunic, on his shoulder where you’d bitten down earlier. Your cheeks heat up at the thought of it being there throughout the entire meeting.

You don’t have long to dwell on the thought though as your husband roughly pushes you from his lap until you’re bent over the table, cheek pressed to the cool stone surface. “Seven!” You sequel as he unceremoniously shoves his cock back inside you, his hips pumping wildly as his hands grasp at your waist harshly, no doubt leaving bruises.

“Fucking finally,” he grunts, eyeing the way his cock disappears into your slick heat as he bunches your gown up over your ass, “‘M not gonna last.” He warns lowly, already panting with the speed of his thrusts.

Your head spins once again as his cock moves within you, his pace nearly bruising. Your teeth sink into the skin of your forearm as you desperately try to keep quiet, another peak already welling up within you.

Aemond growls and quickly threads the fingers of one hand through your hair, making you whine loudly as he pulls your head back until his chest is once again pressed against you, his other hand coming to rub against your abused pearl once more.

“Aemond!” You moan, shaking your head in his grasp, one hand braced against the table as the other grabs at his forearm, feeling his muscles twitch as his fingers swirl against your center, “P-Please, I cannot keep myself quiet, I know I can’t—“ You start babbling.

“Let them fucking hear,” he growls, eye squeezing shut as he feels his stones tightening up, “The whole keep can listen for all I fucking care, I won’t be stopping this time.”

Your eyes roll back in your head at his words, never having heard him sound this possessed and overcome with pleasure before. After only a few more thrusts, you feel your walls twitch once more, a loud gasp rattling through your chest, “H-Husband, I’m—!”

“That’s it,” Aemond groans, redoubling his efforts against your pearl as he continues to rut into you at a nearly inhuman pace. “Peak, sweetling,” he commands, his voice low and raspy in your ear, “Peak while I breed your precious cunt.”

His words nearly take your breath away and you whine loudly as another high washes over you, your walls milking your husband’s cock as they clench and pulse against it.

Behind you, Aemond groans lowly, grunting as his cock twitches strongly inside you, his thick seed flooding into your heat as he finally, finally peaks, the pleasure of it making him dizzy as he leans against your back, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades.

The two of you are quiet for a moment, your tired pants the only sounds in the chambers. Finally, Aemond untangles his fingers from your hair, both of his hands coming to rest against the cool table as he finally pulls his cock from your center, soothing you with soft shushes when you whine, the emptiness in your core such a foreign feeling after being filled for so long.

He sinks into his chair once more and pulls you with him, wrapping a protective arm around your waist as you rest your head on his shoulder. Once your breathing is steady, you pick your head up, a displeased groan tumbling from your throat as you see your bite mark more clearly up close, a finger coming up to trace over the intents in the black leather.

“I’ll need to send this to the seamstress for repairs,” you whisper with an apologetic sigh, “I believe this is beyond my ability to fix.”

Aemond chuckles beneath you, lilac eye gleaming with pride as he clasps a hand over yours as it still rests on his shoulder, “Don’t trouble yourself with it, my love.”

“What?” You question, smiling despite the way you tilt your head in confusion, “Aemond, I cannot fix it myself and I’m afraid the mark will not simply go away—,”

“You misunderstand me, sweetling,” he says, smiling as he looks down at you, “I intend to keep it as a mark of great pride. I shall wear it as a trophy for all to see.” He explains with a teasing laugh.

You playfully smack a hand against his chest, which only makes him laugh harder, “You can’t be serious!” You admonish with a wide smile.

“Why? I simply wish to remember this day,” he chuckles, “The day I made my sweet wife peak in front of the Gods and everyone.”

“Aemond!” You cannot help the surprised laugh that leaves you, “You’re as disgusting as your brother!”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @demirunner @eponaartemisa @trshngyn

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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hannieehaee · 6 months

Note

Hi!! Could you do a fic where Jeonghan is being the menace that he is, but his partner is the only one who can quell him with one look pls? Like he is just super soft w her and always listens cos he’s a simp?

content: simp!jeonghan, established relationship, afab reader, slightly suggestive, etc.

wc: 1156

a/n: this was based on that one scene from nana tour in which jeonghan basically waterboarded mingyu for absolutely no reason (ik he was on a mission but he drenched him ?!\>\£). hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

jeonghan was always known to be a bit of a menace by all his friends.

well, maybe even more than just his friends. after all, there was a reason why he was often called the loki of seventeen by many of his fans.

he was simply a bit unconventional in the ways in which he found entertainment, such as the time in which he berated dokyeom into searching for bugs for them to eat on the streets. he simply had a tendency for bugging his members (out of love, of course), becoming an extra obstacle in their lives just for the fun of it.

now, jeonghan also had a heart of gold and far too much love for his brothers to ever actually cause any harm to them. however, after over a decade of knowing his brothers, he had somehow conditioned them to accept his odd behaviors and simply go along with his shenanigans whenever he felt like acting up.

you, as well as his members, always found great entertainment in his weird behaviors. i mean, it takes a great man to be able to cheat his way through every single game without consequence.

despite finding humor in his ways, you would sometimes have a tendency to put a halt to it. a simple whine of 'hannie!' would have him stopping in his tracks and murmuring against your ear as he whined back but relented at you. what you didn't know, however, was that you were the only person who held this power over jeonghan (even his sister would occasionally fall victim to his menacing ways).

today was one of the many instances in which jeonghan grew bored while at practice, deiciding to wreck havoc just for the hell of it. it was easy for him to spot a victim, – it was usually mingyu – which then lead him to approach him with the illest of intentions. there was never much thinking that went into teasing his members. it was just second nature to him by now. so when he eyed the water bottle in mingyu's hand, even the other members who were standing nearby could see what jeonghan's next move would be.

he was patient with it; engaging in conversation as he usually would as to not draw suspicion. jeonghan realized in that moment that maybe his instincive need to bug mingyu for no reason might be something to look into, but that would come some other day. for now, he wanted a quick laugh.

jeonghan saw his opening the moment mingyu uncapped his bottle and brought it to his lips, taking advantage of his calculated proximity to tilt the end of the bottle in order to drench mingyu's face, causing the man to almost choke on the water he'd been drinking.

as expected, this began a mini war between the two boys, as five minutes later they were both attacking each other with any and every water bottle they could find in their vicinity, even going as far as causing collateral damage to a few of the other members. what jeonghan hadnt planned, however, was a sudden visit from you, who had walked in just as jeonghan squirted yet another water bottle directly at mingyu's face.

"jeonghan!", you scolded as soon as you were in earshot, "leave him alone, you got him all drenched!", you were now standing next to the group, frown on your face as you took in the scene.

"baby? what are you doing here? did you–"

"don't 'baby' me. why are you bugging mingyu again? look at him! he's completely wet."

"i got water in my eye!," whined the tall man, taking advantage of your defense for him.

by now, a few of the members nearby were snickering at the swift turn of events, entertained by not just the water fight but the way in which you immediately sided with mingyu rather than your boyfriend.

"i'm wet too! how do you know he didn't start it?", tried jeonghan, knowing full well that the idea was unconvincing.

"hannie, don't lie to me."

"okay, fine. i got bored, okay? it's just water, baby. it's fine. right, mingyu?"

"dude, you fucked up my hair," mingyu didnt seem truly offended, but more so wanting to feed the flames now that he had an opportunity. jeonghan could tell by the slight smirk on his face.

the frown remained on your face, continuing to come in mingyu's defense for some reason unknown to jeonghan.

"jeonghan, apologize to him."

"what?", his wide and incredulous eyes turned to look at you, ignoring the snort he was pretty sure seungkwan had just let out.

"you heard me."

"but–"

"hannie!"

"f– fine," like a petulant child, jeonghan turned to mingyu and gave him a forced smile, "i'm sorry for getting you wet, gyu."

"than–"

"thank you", you interrupted the man.

jeonghan couldnt help but feel scolded by you. it was rare that you actually ever went against his shenanigans, but he did know he could sometimes go a little extra hard on mingyu due to mingyu's disposition to put up with jeonghan with no complaint (usually even fighting back). he was a bit embarrassed by the way in which you sided with him and even berated him in front of his members, but he also knew he could never say no to you, so apologizing just seemed logical to him.

after a few moments of him whining at his members to mind their business and go get their own girlfriends, he dragged you away to a less polluted corner of the practice room to get some one-on-one with you.

"babyyyy," he immediately pouted at you, proceeding to attaching to you like a bear, burying his head into your neck.

"hannie, you're all wet!", you complained despite making no move to push him away, even wrapping your arm around him and running a hand through his damp hair.

"why'd you have to do that? the boys are supposed to think you're obsessed with me," he frowned against your neck.

despite the whine behind his words, you could feel the vibration of his giggles against you and the smile pressed against your neck. as per usual, he was just whining because he could; something which you always found an endearing result to any rare instance in which you'd scold him.

"they're all gonna think im a simp now," he continued.

you giggled at that, causing him to sway you back and forth as he buried himself even deeper against you.

"are you not?", you inquired.

"i am, but they dont need to know that!"

"you're so annoying ..."

"yeah, but you find it fun, don't you?"

"im not at liberty of releasing that information."

he laughed against your neck, reaffirming to himself how much he liked the back and forth between the two of you, even if it meant relenting to you every single time, earning himself the title of simp among his members.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fluff

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poisonlove · 1 month

Note

Absolutely ignore/get rid of this is you don't wanna do it buttt

Can I request a Wednesday x Fem!reader where Wednesday has a general disregard for everyone and their feelings EXCEPT for her little situationship (reader) and it's just little instances where she's softer with her?

YOU | w.a

pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

A/N : I tried to satisfy your request as much as possible but Wednesday and reader don't have a situationship, they will develop... something ;)

"The most precious things in life are usually the most helpless." Penn Badgley

Wednesday Addams walked along the corridors of Nevermore Academy with a brisk yet graceful step, the sound of her shoes against the cold marble determining her hurry to get to the library. The other students stepped aside as she passed, probably intimidated by her dark and menacing gaze that seemed carved into her features.

"Addams, one word"

Wednesday reluctantly stops, turning slightly and raising an eyebrow. Yoko Tanaka strides toward her, sunglasses perched on her head revealing a pleading look. Wednesday had no intention of wasting her time with her roommate’s best friend, but seeing the vampire in such a state of despair piqued her curiosity.

"What do you want Yoko?" Wednesday asked, her tone of voice deliberately rude. But the brunette didn't care at all.

"I need your help," Yoko began, trying to keep calm, but her voice betrayed a certain frustration. "Could you help me with Thornill's homework? I can't find the damn Moon Flower anywhere."

Wednesday could hardly believe her ears: how dare she interrupt her plans for something so stupid? With her classic impassive gaze, the brunette stared at Yoko in a prolonged silence that made her feel more and more uncomfortable.

"I don't care," Wednesday finally replied with venom and disinterest, surprising the vampire. "If you can't do such a stupid task, maybe you deserve to fail," the brunette added in a cutting tone.

"but it doesn't cost you anything!" Yoko exclaimed in despair.

Wednesday's behavior annoyed her deeply, but Yoko had hoped that following Enid's advice to be kind and tolerant would at least provide some relief. Apparently she was wrong.

"I said no, Yoko," Wednesday replied, her tone even more icy. Her gaze was steady and impenetrable, and her patience, already thin, was completely exhausted.

Yoko sighed deeply, realizing that pushing further would get her nowhere. She put her sunglasses back on in a quick, controlled motion, hiding her annoyance behind a forced smile. Her grin revealed her pointed canines, a gesture that might have seemed threatening in other circumstances, but here it only served to hide her irritation.

"ok, Addams"

with one last look, Yoko walked away, keeping that forced smile until she turned the corner. Wednesday didn't follow her with her gaze, already tired of that brief and, in her eyes, pointless interaction.

As she set off again, determined to finally reach the library, she was interrupted again. This time it was her two friends Ajax and Xavier who stopped her. The two approached quickly with an air of urgency that seemed to want to drag her into some other stupid discussion.

"Wednesday, can we talk to you for a moment?" Xavier asked hesitantly.

the brunette stopped again, clearly irritated now. her gaze narrowed to a slit of annoyance as she waited for them to speak.

"I have a problem with my new work... and I think you can help me," Xavier said, trying to be persuasive.

Wednesday looked at both of them coldly, her patience crumbling with every passing second. All of Nevermore ignored her and labeled her as the school freak, psychopathic and creepy... and now, by some strange twist of fate, everyone needed her today? She simply wanted to go to the library to further her research on poisons and their uses , see you , continue writing her story, or go to the cemetery later.

“I don't care,” she replied coldly, hoping Xavier would understand that she felt some urgency in leaving.

"Addams," Ajax intervenes, "I wanted to ask you for advice... you know that I'm interested in Enid and since you're her roommate..." the gorgon continues, purposely leaving the sentence hanging.

Wednesday stared at them in silence for a few moments, her impassive gaze betraying her impatience. "I don't care in the slightest about your problems and if you don't get out of my way immediately, I won't hesitate to make you regret this conversation" the brunette threatens in a low and cold tone.

Ajax and Xavier look at each other in confusion and fear, pondering Addams's words. They both knew Wedsnesday's reputation and the very real danger of being killed by the shorter girl terrified them.

they decided to step aside.

Wednesday continued on her way, completely ignoring them, while the two boys exchanged glances of resignation. The massive wooden doors finally loomed in the distance and the swarm of students' voices faded as she entered the less frequented part of Nevermore.

"WED!" an all-too-familiar voice shouts enthusiastically.

For the third time that day, Wednesday had to stop. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to suppress the killer instinct that threatened to surface and put an end to her blonde roommate's irritating exuberance. She was seriously starting to believe that it was a curse cast by her mother, some sort of psychological torture designed to test her patience. Unfortunately, it was far from her favorite torture, and she focused on something she knew would calm her down: you.

"Wednesday," Enid exclaimed, catching up with her with a beaming smile, "I was just looking for you... The Poe Cup is coming up again and we have to defend the title! You'll be there, right? We can't do it without you!"

Wednesday stared at the blonde, impassive. Entering the Poe Cup again was the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew Enid wouldn't give up so easily.

"I'll think about it," she replied, keeping her tone detached. She didn't want to seem too involved, but she didn't want to completely dampen Enid's enthusiasm either.

"Awesome!" Enid clapped her hands, thrilled by the response. Then she walked away, skipping happily down the hallway.

Wednesday watched her go, mentally wondering how Enid managed to maintain all that vitality. With a barely audible sigh, she finally resumed her walk towards the library. The brunette lifts the corners of her lips as she enters her haven of peace, looking at the shelves covered in books and dust.

the sound of footsteps echoes throughout the library, her figure getting lost among the endless avenues of shelves and books of Nevermore. Her diligently runs her fingers through the tomes, grazing their rough and fragile covers, the wisdom that hides within them. The few students who were there were busy reading or studying among the various desks scattered around that place, the silence broken only by the sound of the pages being turned.

but it is among those shelves that she finally sees: you

she knew basically the essential things about you: your name is Y/N; you are a year older than her, you are Italian, you love blue and your power is to control fire. You were very good friends with Yoko, for some strange reason, and you were a person who despite the aura of mystery and darkness that surrounded you, smiled and was kind to everyone.

she noticed you a few days ago and still hasn't figured out who you are. Were you really that nice? what's really bothering you Y/N?

Wednesday watched you intently, savoring your every move. She noticed the way you brushed your hair back from your face, the smile that lit up your face when you read something that excited you, and even the grimaces you made in response to bizarre or banal passages you encountered.

Some might call it stalking, but she's really just trying to understand you better.

her black eyes never left your figure: you were tall, you had a sharp jaw that accentuated your strong face and you had full lips that were somehow always ready to whisper something provocative or sarcastic. at that moment you had chosen to gather your hair in a messy bun, a practical choice but one that added a touch of carefree elegance to your appearance.

you were struggling with a pile of books that seemed to have a life of its own. Some had already fallen, scattering across the floor. You quickly bent down to pick them up, but each attempt only seemed to make things worse.

Were you disorganized or did your hunger for books make you so careless?

Wednesday realized it was the perfect time to come out of hiding. She approached you cautiously, then crouched down and picked up a couple of books. Her cold fingers landed on Wicked Plants: The Weed That Killed Lincoln's Mother and Other Botanical Atrocities by Amy Stewart, and a thin smile threatened to appear on her lips. She was almost certain that she was the only one, aside from maybe Thornill, who had read that book in the entire school. Finding out that you shared the same literary tastes hit her in a surprisingly pleasant way.

“Here.” Wednesday’s voice was almost a whisper, as if she were intimidated by the idea of an interaction.

your eyes lift from the floor to meet hers.

Wednesday held her breath. They were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. You looked at her with curiosity, maybe surprise, but there was something in your eyes that made her feel strangely vulnerable.

“Thank you,” you croak embarrassedly, your cheeks pink knowing someone had witnessed your disaster.

“Maybe you should stop devouring more books than you can handle,” Wednesday said venomously. Her words were a wall behind which she hid the slight agitation she was trying to ignore.

you smile. Shouldn't you be annoyed by my answer?

"What's your name?" she asks curiously

Wednesday stared at you for a moment, cold as ever. “Wednesday,” she replied dryly, not giving anything away. But when you smiled again, the brunette felt a shiver run through her mind, one she tried desperately to ignore.

“Happy reading,” Wednesday adds quickly, turning around as she notices the slight look of confusion crossing your face. It was clear that you wanted to continue the conversation, maybe tell her your name, but Wednesday couldn’t stand there beside you without feeling her body boil.

she needed to leave the library and distract her mind

would have continued after the search, with the necessary calm

but there was an unexpected relief in knowing that she now knew her name

just like she knew yours.

A/N: yes I know, very inspired by the YOU series

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #wednesday adams x reader #jenna marie ortega #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday x y/n #you

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calliesmemes · 7 months

Text

ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“ Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“ Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“ Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“ Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“ They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“ Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“ Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“ Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“ What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“ I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“ I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“ I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“ The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“ Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“ If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“ I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“ My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“ There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“ You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“ I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“ I really do hate thinking. ”

“ In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“ I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“ Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“ Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“ So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“ Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“ The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“ Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“ The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“ I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“ Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“ What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“ Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“ RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“ Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“ My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“ It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“ Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“ How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“ I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“ You look so biteable today. ”

“ Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“ I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“ Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“ Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“ Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“ Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“ I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“ Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“ I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“ Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“ I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“ Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“ You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“ You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“ It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“ Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“ No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“ No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“ I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“ Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“ Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“ I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“ Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“ I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“ Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“ Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“ Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“ May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“ I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“ You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“ Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“ Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“ All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“ How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“ What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“ I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“ Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“ Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“ I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“ Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“ I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“ You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“ Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“ Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“ I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“ If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“ Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“ Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“ I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“ Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme

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hana-no-seiiki · 6 months

Text

this is prolly the only fem! reader i’m ever writing with batfam in this blog. enjoy.

(implicit) yandere batfam x dommy mommy! reader

— in which these men realize you were far more than just an assistant

Galas were fun at times. But when forced to attend such repetitive events in addition to their vigilante work — well it was safe to say, it was not boding well for their sanity.

You worked as a general assistant for the BatFamily. As Alfred’s daughter, you endeavored to ease your father and his employers’s lives. You were a sweetheart. An absolute angel. The loveliest lady to ever exist.

Until you were pushed past the brink of your limits, stress wise, of course.

The whole Jason coming back from the dead and Bruce being dead took a massive blow to your sleep schedule. The boys took it as an opportunity to blur the lines between work and personal life. Slowly inserting themselves into your day to day outside of what you tirelessly scheduled for them.

So when a villain managed to break into the Batcave while you were there all on your lonesome (took a while for you to schedule every single one of them so that they’d be too busy to bother you), you didn’t take it all too kindly.

By the time the boys got back home, they were only privy to the following things

(1) You were a lot stronger than what you appeared to be. If the footage of you absolutely decimating the man wasn’t already a sure sign there was also the fact that you managed to somehow replicate a lot of the moves the boys would learn during training. Must have been something Alfred drilled into you as extra measure.

(2) You were a lot more menacing and sadistic when stressed.

The intruder looked at you with pleading eyes. His face black and blue. Could you blame yourself? You only had one night of peace and this man ruined it.

You sighed. He seemed to be incapacitated enough. Pulling out the chair to the iconic Batcomputer, you took a seat and pondered.

Bruce gave you access to all the alcohol you would need to ease the stresses of life. Might as well you shrugged.

You slowly took off the stockings Dick gifted you a while back. It was a prototype of his merch he said. You knew it was just because he really wanted to see you in fishnets. Then, you used the tip of your toe to raise the intruder’s head to face you.

You paused for a moment, remembering how Tim would often look through the cameras old footage on his free time. His overworking and stalking habits are really be something you work on.

The thought of him seeing the way you act momentarily froze you.

But the alcohol in your system begged to differ.

“Make it up to me, and I’ll let you go.”

Eh, you’ll deal with Tim and Damian scolding you for your unhealthy habits later. And your dad’s sermons on professional behavior.

And whatever mess Jason makes you clean up for the night too.

The boys watched the footage with bated breath and tighter pants at your actions. This was a side they’ve never expected from you.

You poured a drink of your choice down your thighs and legs. The liquid slowly dripped down the skin of your calves and ankles before it reached the tip of your toe.

“What kind of an assistant would I be if I didn’t give a guest a drink?”

And (3)

They would kill to be that man.

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3liza · 17 days

Text

I agree that the pushback against White Woman Paranoia About Men is warranted but

I also see a lot of posts by men and people who situationally may never experience this, about how being wary of men as a class is delusional due to the actual crime statistics being basically negligible compared to, for example, being hit by a car or getting into a car accident. and what this kind of post doesn't acknowledge is that there are lot of ways to have an exceptionally bad experience caused by strange men in public that have nothing to do with anything that is classified as criminal, bodily harm, and specifically any behavior that would actually be worthwhile to report, making it unknown to the statistics. the guy who followed me for two blocks one night and then brushed by my back and said "don't fall" very pointedly as I was standing on a freeway overpass wasn't doing anything illegal and certainly nothing any cop would do anything about if I "reported" it (lmao) but yeah that is an unpleasant experience I remember vividly and would like to avoid in future. one example of many, obviously, I'm not making a whole post about a single experience

it is absolutely the case that the only rapes and most of the physical assaults I've experienced have been from men known to me socially or intimately, but until I got a large dog, going outside was about 60% likely to involve being harassed. which is a lot more than I have been hit by cars (zero times)

being harassed is extremely unpleasant regardless of its likelihood to progress to physical assault. sometimes it can be so unpleasant it affects our daily lives, and a single incident of harassment can impact a person's mental health. the expectation of ongoing harassment does this moreso, it creates a continual expectation of being pursued, questioned, and then having to deal with someone getting angry at you when you don't accede to their demands. in any context this is unpleasant. people who do not experience sexual harassment in their daily lives may be able to empathize with this experience if they were ever bullied as children. people chasing you around, calling you names, creating unpleasant confrontations for no reason, and then the next day you have to get up and go do it again. people change schools, quit jobs and move out of shared living situations to avoid this kind of stress, it's reasonable to develop an aversion to it. it's reasonable to develop reactivity and hypervigilance as well. verbal and social harassment without any physical assault is more than enough to cause a trauma response.

it's also just inconvenient. even if you are not menaced or belittled or traumatized by an episode of harassment, having to Manage a Harassment Situation in the grocery store or post office when you're just trying to get an errand done is a massive waste of time. a lot of women have to plan for extra time during errands or travel to account for getting out of situations like that.

a LOT of the paranoia about men from women that you can read everywhere in the culture is based not in a fear of getting physically harmed or killed, but simply avoiding more harassment.

I think a lot of women have defaulted to explaining this desire to avoid men and avoid being alone with men, or explaining their suspicion of men, as fear of physical harm, because that's the only way people who don't get harassed are able to take it seriously. but it's completely reasonable to want to avoid being annoyed, bothered, harassed, questioned, inconvenienced, interrupted, or to have someone just be rude to you, completely apart from the actual percentage likelihood that they are a serial killer. even the act of telling these men politely that you can't talk right now, aren't interested, have to go, have a boyfriend, whatever, is annoying and often escalates into a confrontation or to the man being angry at you or insulting you. we can agree that getting into a verbal argument for no reason on the street is a negative experience. it can be annoying and unsettling without being a threat to life and limb. and no this isn't a "i have bad social skills and can't handle normal human interactions" thing, it's not a social interaction required by common decency or manners or basic function, it's someone putting you into a bad situation for no reason and then getting mad at you when you decline to entertain them. the harassers are the ones being rude. it is a violation of the social contract to catcall someone. it's just annoying and I want to avoid it. most women want to avoid it, and behave accordingly.

no terfs on this post. everything I just said about being bothered by strangers applies double (at least) to the experiences of most trans women

women aren't the only people who get harassed by strangers either, but it is overwhelmingly an issue experienced by women, and people who are perceived as feminine or as women.

it's also not just men who do the harassing, but again, it is overwhelmingly men who are doing it.

some women experience no harassment or very little of this harassment and won't identify with this post. that's true and real, but doesn't make it not true that a very very large percentage of women, maybe even most women, have experienced this. no experience is universal

#i would simply like to go places and do things without being put into a situation #i think everyone can agree with this #if you go places and do things regularly without being put in situations you understand how nice it is probably #imagine being constantly bothered and interrupted while trying to do things #oprah gif

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nyctoaerah · 5 months

Note

yandere satosugu x female reader? can you do jealousy headcanons (like what makes them jealous and/or what they do when they get jealous)? sorry if that wasn’t specific enough!

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere behavior (duh) murder, possessiveness, gore. (Ooc maybe) satoru being an oa little shit. Poly relationship.

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Satosugu x Fem! Reader

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: WHAHAHA i didn’t knew if you wanted it to be separate or not anon, you said satosugu so i immediately assumed that it was a threesome. But heree, some hc’s:33 sorry pookie, i got lazy on suguru’s part:< SJAKEKSKA i did this first cause hc’s are the easiest to write💀💀💀

Masterlist

🔪Satoru struggles with pervasive jealousy issues, particularly when it comes to you and Suguru.

🔪This dude is like the embodiment of jealousy. he’s so envious he’s practically green with it. Hell he’s even jealous of himself. There was this one time he bet he could pull off dressing up as a girl for a dare, and oh boy, did he go all out. But then he got all pouty when you gushed all over him and got all touchy, something that you don’t really do often. And his reason of getting jealous with himself? He thought that you prefer him as a girl, like hello? you were supposed to prefer the original satoru and not his genderbent!

🔪But seriously, this guy’s jealousy knows no bounds. If Suguru flashes a flirty grin at someone else, bam, jealousy strikes. And if you dare compliment another soul? Jealousy overload. You hugged another man that isn’t suguru? He’s trying to force himself not to throw hands. This dude craves all the attention, all the affection, like a toddler hoarding toys in a playgroup. He’s aware he’s selfish, probably knows it’s not the best look, but he’s powerless against the possessiveness that overtakes him when it comes to you and Suguru. You both have this unique power to bring out the best and worst in him, after all, you two were the only one who sees him as “Satoru” and not as the “Strongest.”

🔪Satoru’s neurotic tendencies and jealousy issues stemmed from his messed-up childhood. The poor guy got stripped of his carefree youth and was thrust into the adult world way before his time after all. the jealousy bug bit him hard when he saw other kids having the time of their lives, while he was stuck with grown-ups fawning over him and expecting way too much and pressuring him. That childhood envy stuck to him like glue, and it grew into a full-blown mess when you, him, and Suguru became an item.

🔪The thing that grinds Satoru’s gears the most and the absolute worst, is when you and Suguru says something about other people’s eyes like; “Their eyes is so pretty” Blah, blah, blah, bullshit like that. It kills him inside that you don’t shower the same love on his eyes. His eyes are prettier, more powerful, and literally very unique, and you hardly ever mention how beautiful it is.

🔪Satoru absolutely loathes it when you’re completely oblivious to someone flirting with you. He’ll shoot menacing glares at the culprit when you’re not paying attention, as if daring them to keep it up, and he would end up threatening them.

🔪Satoru doesn’t bother in hiding his emotions, he’ll whimper, pout, and stick to you and Suguru like glue. And would play the melodramatic card, guilt tripping you. Or he’ll just straight up threaten you or tell suguru about how naughty you are.

🔪🔪🔪

Satoru’s head rested delicately upon your lap as your dexterous fingers ran through his snow white tresses. He gazed at you upward, sky blue eyes peeking from beneath his snowy eyelashes.

“Can you give me your phone for a minute baby? I just wanna do something”

Without pause for consideration, you obliged his request and gave the phone into his outstretched hand.

“Yeah, sure, here.” You responded with a hum.

“What are you gonna do with it, anyways?” You questioned, before your eyes widened as you saw how satoru’s digits hastened across the interface, focused intently on blocking specific contacts from further reaching your line.

“Huh, ‘Toru, what the hell?”

“Wait—why are you blocking them? Those are my—” Your words faded as Satoru lifted his head from your lap and moves away from you, his piercing gaze fixed on yours as he gently grasped your chin between his forefinger and thumb.

“Why do you always insist on conversing with them, hmm? Do you like them?”

“What— no! It’s not like that, what the fuck?”

“If you really love me and Suguru, then you have to sever ties with that girl/guy and keep your distance, okay?”

🔪Suguru really isn’t the jealous type, because he’s all about trust and loyalty when it comes to you and Satoru—He trusts you two.

🔪But, every now and then, a feeling of jealousy creep up inside him when he sees you and Satoru hanging out and having fun without him. He tries to brush it off though, understanding that you two are really close. He just wants to see his pretty lovers smiling, or at least that’s what he tells himself.

🔪When Suguru starts feeling jealous, it’s not a pretty sight. Beneath that kind and laid-back exterior lies a man who doesn’t really forgive that much. Suguru doesn’t forgive, and he doesn’t forget.

🔪Suguru may be a master at concealing his jealousy, but when it does surface, it’s like a storm crashing down. Picture this: you innocently text someone he’s really jealous of, and before you know it, your phone is pulled from your hands and tossed across the room while he summons a cursed spirit to destroy it completely, only to be replaced with a brand-new one moments later. Oh, and that person you were casually chatting with? It’s either you can consider them ghosted or consider them dead.

🔪Mentioning your ex around him was a big no-no. Because it immediately triggers him. can’t you just keep the spotlight on him and Satoru? One tiny mention of your ex’s name or Satoru reminiscing about his past flings, and Suguru’s mood immediately becomes sour.

🔪In stark comparison to Satoru, Suguru remains nonchalant about compliments being thrown around. He’s all for lifting people up until those compliments take a flirtatious turn. If that line is crossed, however, his cursed spirits will have its new meal.

🔪If Suguru was jealous and it led to an argument between you two, he would turn on his ultimate weapon—the silent treatment. He’d nonchalantly start hanging out with other people, making sure you noticed just to annoy you and make you jealous. He was well aware of his petty tendencies, but deep down, he simply wished for you to drop the bratty act and apologize.

🔪If you don’t really apologize and just pushed him over the edge... Well, you’ll have to say goodbye to your sanity because suguru is brutal as fuck when it comes to giving punishment.

🔪Unlike Satoru, who would guilt trip and manipulate you, Suguru would take it up a notch on the intensity scale. He wouldn’t shy away from using violence after all. And that doesn’t only apply to the person that he’s envious of, that applies to you too, and satoru. But that’s the difference, Satoru is a good boy, and you’re not.

🔪Suguru would be more than glad to kill someone in front of you and force you to watch it after all. He’ll hurt you too if you thrash and scream instead of being a good girl.

And you can’t really escape the both of them, after all, their love is like a noose.♡

🔪🔪🔪

Suguru’s hand forcefully clamped over your quivering lips, stifling any cries that tried to escape. His breath was hot against your skin, his fingers digging into your flesh with an iron grip, rendering you immobile. The metallic tang of blood invaded your nostrils. Your eyes were wide with terror, pupils shrinking, and your pulse quickening. A sickening view of gore played out before your horrified gaze, crimson splattering the walls, each nauseating squelch echoing through the room.

“I told you to stay away from them and you didn’t listen...” Suguru whispers, his breath hot against your neck, his delicate mouth parting to suck hard upon your pulsing skin, his mouth works its way slowly along your skin. And you shudder involuntarily beneath his touch, fear coursing through you as his lips close around a patch of flesh, sucking hard.

“See...? This is what happens when you disobey.”

The sharp prick of his teeth sends bolts of pain ricocheting through your body. Your already unsettled stomach lurches violently at the sight that greets you as you raise your head, struggling against his grip.

Before you, bound fast to a wooden chair, was the friend you had jokingly flirted with. Tears stream unchecked down their pallid cheeks, mingling with traces of dried blood, as their cries continue to ring in your ears.

Every limb was callously severed, Their bones was protruding out—the metacarpal bones, the carpal bones, the humerus, the ulna, the fibula, and other bones, Their arms and legs are covered in long, vivid scarlet lines that are three inches wide, intersecting each other in a crisscross pattern and the wounds appear to have breached the surface of their skin, While suguru’s cursed spirits feeds on their severed flesh.

With a low, self-satisfied hum, Satoru drags the tip of the scalpel upwards your friend’s cheek, cutting them and the skin opens, revealing their inner facial muscle. He then reaches out to grasp a fistful of your friend’s hair, yanking their head back sharply to force clouded eyes up to meet your own.

“Suguruuuu, what do i do next? Do we gouge their eyes out for looking at our pretty girl that way?”

“Do it. She said that she likes their eyes anyways... She’s probably implying that she prefers their eyes over yours.” Suguru smirks, humming as he pressed his body against yours, enjoying the way satoru’s face suddenly fell.

“Haah... Looks like i’ll be enjoying gouging their eyes then.”

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souliebird · 3 months

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 24]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 6.8k 🌶️

ao3 link

It is by some birthday miracle Minnie has yet to run out of energy.

Usually, once she has her bath and changes into her pajamas, she starts to wind down, but today is a special, exciting day, so she just keeps on going.

It probably does not help that as part of her massive birthday haul, she got a new onesie pajama that makes her look like an oversized mouse - including big ears and a long tail. As soon as you finished zipping her in and pulled the hood up, your daughter went absolutely feral. She started scampering around on all fours - pretending she was indeed her namesake.

That was ten minutes ago, and you don’t think she’ll stop anytime soon. Especially not with Matt encouraging her.

You watch from your spot on the couch as Minnie scurries over to the dining table, crawling under one of the chairs to hide. In the kitchen, Matt is dramatically pretending to look around while he holds up the butterfly net that came with a toy bug hunting kit.

“Here, mousey, mousey, mousey,” he calls out in a low voice, which only serves to send Minnie into a fit of giggles. “Here, mousey, mousey, mousey.”

You, of course, play along and muse out, “I don’t know Mister Exterminator, this mouse may be too smart. I don’t know if you’ll be able to catch her.”

“You’re right,” he says, straightening up and he turns to face you. He rests the net on his shoulder, then taps at his chin with the index finger of his opposite hand, “I think we are going to have to set a trap.”

“A trap?” you question. You appear to keep your full attention on Matt, but in reality, you are sneaking a picture. Mouse is crouched in her hiding spot, hands covering her mouth. It takes everything in you to not start laughing.

“A trap, my Queen. We’re going to need some cheese, a stick, and a bucket.”

“I’m bigger than a bucket!” Minnie suddenly protests before realizing she’s given away where she is and clamps her hands back over her mouth. Matt whips around and starts towards her, raising his net with a mock menace.

“Gotcha!”

Minnie tries to dash towards you and the couch, but Matt, gently and with amazing precision, brings the net down on her head. Your little one instantly collapses to the floor like she has no bones. She reaches towards you, and with a performance worthy of an Oscar, declares, “Tell Scooby I loves him!” before falling over.

You do your part by gasping as Matt scoops up her limp little body. He brings her over to you, presenting her with a slight kneel, “The Mouse Princess has been slain, my Queen.”

Minnie is trying her best to keep her eyes squeezed shut and suppress her giggles, so to make it even harder, you take on a blasé attitude, “Oh, how very sad. Now she can’t come to the super-secret dance party.”

Little eyes pop open and Matt sets her on her feet as she squirms back to life, “I wanna go to the super...super secret dance party!”

The Dance Party is your scheme to get the last of Minnie’s energy out. You do not want her to stay up too late past her bedtime, or she is going to be grumpy tomorrow. No one wants a grumpy toddler at the zoo.

“You want to go to the super secret dance party?” Matt confirms, a large grin starting to form on his lips, and Minnie nods so hard her eared hood falls off.

You go to fix it, fluffing the ears so they properly stand up, “What song should we play first, Mouse Princess?”

This is a hard decision, and as she thinks over her options, Mouse sticks her fingers into her mouth. This is a behavior you are beginning to think you should address, but you want to do more research and consult with Matt as well. You have been wondering if it helps her focus - her own way of limiting out the various inputs she must be constantly receiving. You think that maybe having her hand in her mouth helps to mask other smells, because you have noticed she doesn’t actually suck on them - they just are inserted - and it's something she does when she’s thinking.

Or it may be that she's a toddler and likes the taste of her fingers and you are once again overthinking everything.

“R-B-S-T!” Minnie finally declares, throwing her hands up in the air. Matt looks absolutely baffled by the decision, but luckily, you speak Minnie, and know exactly what she wants. You grab your phone, open up your music app, and go to your daughter’s playlist to select the requested song.

You get up as Aretha Franklin begins on the speakers.

This is one of Minnie’s favorite songs to sing and dance to, and yours as well. You have listened to it so many times you almost have little routine together. You begin to shimmy your shoulders at your daughter as she does the same to you, leaning forward and singing in sync.

“What you want. Baby, I got it! What you need, you know I got it!”

Matt lights up and it takes him less than a beat to jump into bopping along. It is one of those songs you think everyone knows the lyrics to, so you aren’t surprised when he joins in singing at Minnie. You quickly become a dancing circle, grooving together. Minnie stumbles over some words but her toddler heart is completely in it. She belts out the song, the biggest smile on her face as you mime some of what is being said.

You continue to dance as the song changes to one that filled your childhood. You carefully curated the playlist to be free of any Disney Sing-a-longs or other toddler centric jams - these are strictly songs you actually enjoy that are safe for Minnie to listen to. You picked one-hit wonders and things that tend to fill the radio airwaves on a Friday night.

The song is popular enough that Matt seems to know some of the words - or he is shamelessly making them up. You aren’t going to fact check him. You are too caught up in watching him dance - he’s completely thrown himself into it. He even has a little bounce in his step.

His t-shirt is tight around his chest and when he raises his arms, his shirt rides up, showing off a belt of skin above his pajama pants. You can see the band of his boxers - a brand you aren’t aware of - and it makes your skin warm. You know you should not stare, but it is hard not to.

Especially when he does a spin.

Your eyes drop down to his behind and you feel like an absolute pervert ogling him. How does he manage to choose clothes that emphasize how wonderfully fit he is while still looking so casual?

You tear yourself away from his perfect physique and try to enjoy the playtime with your daughter. You need to wear her out, which means you need to be more enthusiastic with your dancing.

You have found a strange upside to Matt being Blind and that is you are more comfortable acting a bit of a fool around him. He isn’t going to stop and stare at you for doing something silly for Minnie and the idea that he can’t perceive you in that way is doing wonders for your anxiety. You are very much aware that he knows what you are doing because of those amazing senses of his but you don’t feel judged in the way you do if you know someone is seeing you. It is probably Ableist in some way, but you like being able to relax more around him.

You don’t need to hide who you are or pretend to be someone you are not.

You begin to move your hips, swirling them as you throw your hands up into the air. You get a full body motion going, quickly adding in a few twirls.

Mouse is quick to copy you, arms up, spinning, and rocking side to side. You slowly add in some arm pumps to get her little muscles really going. Matt seems to catch on to what you are trying to do, as he starts to add in some leg kicks to his dances, which Minnie instantly incorporates into her movements. Soon enough, she looks like she’s either in a mini mosh pit or - since she’s in a mouse costume - she’s a tiny kaiju trying to ravage an invisible town.

You go through two more pop chart toppers before Minnie shows any signs of slowing down. As soon as you sense that her enthusiasm is dipping, you move onto step two of your devious plan.

“Do you want to dance with Daddy?”

The answer is obviously a yes.

The Mouse Princess gets scooped up and set on Matt’s hip and he takes one of her small hands in his so he can guide her around in a dance. You let them have one bopping dance, where it is all energy and Minnie shimming like crazy before you sneakily switch the playlist.

The next song has a beat to dance to, but it is nothing like the previous ones. Matt gradually slows so he is rocking in place, pretending to slow dance with his daughter.

You stop at that point and stay on your phone, holding it up to record him mouthing the words to ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ while Minnie slowly starts to sink against his shoulder. You can’t help but sway to the music, a soft smile spreading across your face.

You never thought you would get this - not just seeing Minnie’s father being so absolutely sweet with her, but having a family where these sorts of moments can happen. You didn’t think this was the type of life you would get to live.

Instead of indifference, you are surrounded by love. It may not be love for you, but you get to soak it all in and enjoy how your daughter is absolutely spoiled. Matt is so clearly head over heels for her, wrapped around her little finger more than you are, and it seems like he is dragging his entire network along with him.

His friends went hog wild in terms of getting gifts for your little toddler. Not only did Foggy give her the pogo stick, but she got all sorts of stickers from him and coloring books - and his Mom - who you really need to meet at this point - sent home baked cookies and Scooby Doo themed puzzles. Karen was not to be outdone, though, as she and Frank went the doll route. They entered your apartment with a two-story wooden Victorian style dollhouse that the Punisher apparently refurbished. They had full Princess themed furnishing to go with it and you can only imagine that poor Karen is going to be getting doll ads for months.

Sister Maggie sent along more practical things - some learning to read books. To your great surprise, all of the simple stories come with print lettering and Braille, and Minnie now also has a big letter board that has the same. You want her to learn the language and now she and Matt can read bedtime stories together.

You still have trouble comprehending that all these people are in your daughter’s life now. It so effortlessly went from being just the two of you to an extended Family.

And even Minnie is understanding that.

While Foggy is Froggy and Sister Maggie is Daddy’s Mommy, Miss Karen has been officially upgraded to Auntie Karen. You do not know what triggered the change in title, but she was lording it over Foggy and Frank like it was a status symbol.

You have promised to take so many pictures to send to them while you are at the zoo and the sheer idea that other people want the photos makes you giddy. You know you are going to end up printing some out to frame. You want to send something to Sister Maggie and you just know Matt will want one - or fifteen - for his desk.

You are dragged from your thoughts when Minnie finally, finally yawns.

You stop the music before it can go onto the next crooner and step towards your favorite pair, “Are you getting sleepy, baby?”

She nods against Matt’s shoulder before turning her head so she can use him as a pillow.

“Okay, let's get you into bed,” you coo. Luckily, she does not protest - she is completely petered out and you are not sure if she’ll even make it to the bed before she's in a deep sleep.

The Dance Party was a complete success, and you decide it will be something to keep in your back pocket when Mouse is too active at night.

You follow Matt as he carries Minnie to the bedroom. He is still just barely swaying her in his arms still, tempting her closer and closer to Dreamland.

You slip around him to get into the room first so you can make sure the sheets and covers are turned down. As the dead weight that is your daughter is slipped into bed, you turn on the air conditioner, so the room gets nice and cold. By the time you get back to Mouse’s side, Matt has gotten her sleep headband on and secured, and you can't tell if she's awake or not.

Apparently, she is still somewhat conscious, because Matt asks in the softest and sweetest voice, “Did you have a good birthday, my love?”

Minnie’s lips barely move as she mumbles out an, “uh-huh.”

“I'm glad. Mommy and Daddy love you very much. Sweet dreams, my little angel.”

He gives her a kiss to the cheek, then steps aside so that you can do the same. As you pull back, she weakly smacks her lips together and breathes out, “Luff.”

Your heart grows three sizes, and you truly feel like the Grinch when you have to pull Matt from the room. You know, if he could, he would stand there all night, standing dutifully by her side as she slept.

But Mouse Princess Minnie needs her rest, and you need help cleaning up the aftermath of the party.

The dining table is covered in various arts and crafts projects. Minnie had practically run a little sweat shop with how she had multiple adults sat and focused on painting and building things with popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners. Luckily, everything is dry now and can be moved. You have a scrapbook you are going to put some pieces in, and others are going to be hung up around the apartment.

You want to keep everything Minnie makes - you have no relics from your childhood, and you don't want that for her. You want to sit down with her when she's an adult and laugh together about how cute she was.

As you start to clear the table, Matt begins to walk around the room, picking up any lingering trash. You've been good at cleaning throughout the day and not letting things sit, but you still had things like empty birthday bags and toy boxes out. You can see him snapping out of the corner of your eyes as he gathers things, and it makes you smile. You are always fascinated about how he navigates the world and using echolocation to clean isn’t something you would have thought possible.

“I didn't picture you as the dancing type,” he teases across the room as you sort arts and crafts.

“Oh, I am not,” is your instant reply and you can’t help but screw up your face at the idea of you being a dancer.

“Really? You seemed to know what you were doing.”

“Definitely not,” you insist. You feel yourself start to flush as Matt chuckles behind you.

“I think you are selling yourself short. I bet there were more eyes on you than you realized when you went dancing.” You know he is being sweet and trying to boost your ego, but you’ve never been out dancing. You didn’t even go to your prom. In fact, the last time you danced with someone who wasn’t Minnie was in middle school, at one of the in-school dance events.

That isn’t something you really want to admit, so you go with, “I don’t really go out dancing.”

He gives the faintest of sighs from the living room, so you decide to try and humor him and add, “I don’t think I’d enjoy a club, but I always thought learning ballroom would be fun. Less people and..you know,” you motion up and for some reason twirl your hand, “less bass.”

“That does seem more your style,” he replies, and you heat up even more. You know he can’t see you, but you duck your head to try and hide how you must be blushing.

As always, when you feel yourself start to get flustered, your brain takes a backseat to your mouth. You muse out, “I always wanted to learn to slow dance.”

You instantly start to mentally berate yourself. You sound like a complete idiot - as far as you know there is no method to slow dancing beyond swaying. You equate things like waltzing and other partner dances with slow dancing - even though the terminology isn’t right.

“You’ve never slow danced?”

He sounds surprised and you want to smother yourself with the artwork in your hands. You are digging a hole of pathetic-ness and you need to abandon this topic of conversation before Matt realizes how lame you truly are. To do this, you tell him, “I told you I’m not the dancing type.”

Matt doesn’t respond, so you think you are in the clear. You don’t dare look over at him, instead keeping your focus on Minnie’s painting of Max you’ve just picked up. Her drawings are getting more and more defined - you can actually tell this is meant to be a dog as opposed to her usual circle-based creatures. You are so proud of her, and you can’t wait until she’s more comfortable with writing. You think her toddler handwriting is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Siri,” Matt suddenly says from right behind you, making you start with fright and drop the painting back to the table, “play ‘At Last’ by Etta James.”

You whirl around to find Matt impossibly close, holding his phone up to speak into it. You quickly start to shake your head, just barely chanting, “no, no, no, no,” at him.

“Getting that from your Music Playlist,” the phone traitorously replies before the song starts to play. Matt reaches past you to set his phone down on the table, then that same hand goes to your waist.

You try to protest by saying his name, but he cuts you off, “Humor me.”

Your anxiety can’t fight that as much as you want to, so you very reluctantly let him pull you away from the table and towards the emptier area of the kitchen. You cannot look at him as he guides you into position - you can only stare at your feet and pray for the internet to cut out and turn off the music.

But of course, that doesn’t happen.

Matt slowly begins to sway, and you force yourself to awkwardly follow along. He must know how uncomfortable you are, as the thumb that is on your hip starts to rub in slow circles and he starts talking in a soft voice, “they never played a lot of music at St. Agnes’, but Father Lantom used to have a radio in his office. He’d have it going after hours, when he was doing paperwork or working on sermons. I would focus on it to help me sleep - they’d always play the same things over and over and it became like white noise to help dampen everything else. He used to hum along with this one.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to him and not the lyrics to the song. You don’t think you’ve heard him refer to this person before, but you are guessing this is the man who ran the Church Matt grew up in.

“It’s a good song,” you mumble, trying your best to engage with him instead of being overwhelmed.

“It is,” he agrees. He steps a breath closer to you then oh so gently, just barely touches his forehead to yours. All of your embarrassment evaporates, and you are very hyper aware of everywhere you and Matt are touching. Your throat tightens a fraction, and your heart begins to pound so loudly it drowns out the music.

You want to apologize because you know Matt must be able to hear your heart becoming a drum and it must be annoying, but all you can do is sway in his arms.

You feel his breath on your cheek when he asks in a whisper, “is this okay?” and you can’t do anything more than get your head to nod up and down once. His response, for some unknown reason, is to give a pleased hum. The noise is like lightning down your spine, making you shiver against him and instead of letting you go like you would expect, he becomes even closer.

Your reaction is to curl your fingers tighter around him and you don’t understand why. Part of you wants to run and hide under your covers and never speak of this moment again, but another wants to stay like this forever, because despite your panic, isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?

To be held?

Even if it is a ruse.

Matt is taking pity on you and dancing with you as a bit of a tease, but he’s not being cruel. You told him you don’t dance, so of course he wants to dance. You’ve seen the interaction in film and television plenty of times - Matt is a good man and wants you to have fun.

And you are, aren’t you?

You’re having fun.

You had a wonderful day filled with laughter and joy, and now it is ending in a sweet moment.

You can let yourself enjoy this.

Matt breathes your name against your cheek and the lightning feeling is back, “you’re overthinking again.”

“I’m trying not to,” you promise him, because you truly are trying to tamper down your thoughts. It is just hard not to when your mind won’t stop spinning.

“Do you want this?” he asks after a moment and you have no idea what he means, but honestly it doesn’t matter. Every fiber of your being screams the same thing as soon as the words leave him.

“Yes.”

The world comes to a sudden halt as Matthew Murdock’s lips press against yours.

They are soft and warm and as sweet as you remember them being. They are hesitant, almost delicate, as they move against yours. A gentle hand comes up and cups your cheek and it snaps you back into reality.

The dam inside you breaks and you do not think - you only act.

Your hands launch up to tangle into his short hair and you kiss Matt back with a hunger you did not know you had.

His reaction is instantaneous - within a moment you are backed against a countertop, and he is practically devouring you. He is groaning low in his throat, sounding almost animalistic, and the hand that was on your hip is now on the small on your back, keeping you pressed firmly against him. Gone is the sweet, innocent moment - you need him in a biblical way, and you think he feels the same.

To your own surprise, it is you who pushes things further, biting at his lower lip. He opens himself easily for you and you reward this by licking into his mouth.

He may have you pinned to the counter, but you do not feel trapped. You know if you showed any doubt about what was happening or indicated you wanted to stop - consciously or unconsciously - Matt would be across the room in a second.

You don’t need to be scared with him - you know that now - and that only fuels your fire.

You need to be touched.

You need to be held.

You need Matt to fuck you stupid.

And by the bulge starting to press into your hip, you think he is more than happy to do just that.

Matt breaks the kiss, only to move his mouth down to your neck. He drags his tongue and teeth over the sensitive skin there causing obscene little noises to come out of you.

“Sound so good,” he growls into your throat and all sorts of heady reactions course through you. “Smell so fucking good. Drives me crazy.” He emphasizes his point by burying his nose into your pulse point before biting down. Your cunt clenches around nothing and you whimper out his name, but he isn’t done with his praise yet, continuing on between lapping at your skin, “Sit there so innocent and sweet, not knowing I want to bury my face between your legs. Can’t think when you get all flustered. Want my tongue on you at all times.”

His words wash over you, but you can’t contextualize what he is Actually saying. All you can hear is his current need and desire and you want his tongue on you as well. You know how well he can use it and your body craves him.

You don’t know how to tell him what you want beyond hiking your leg up to wrap around him and pressing your hips forward with a needy, “Please, Matt.”

It seems that is all he needs you to say.

Like you weigh nothing, he lifts you up and sets you on the counter. You lean back to push your sleeping shorts and panties down and he is there to help, practically tearing them off your legs and sending them across the kitchen. As soon as that barrier is gone, Matt wastes not one second - he drops to his knees between your legs and drags you forward by your hips, throwing your thighs over his shoulders.

Any shame you may have is gone the moment he drags his nose from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit and only then do you realize how absolutely soaked you are.

He starts to mumble something under his breath, but you can’t hear him over how heavy you are breathing. The hot puffs of air against you are the worst type of tease and already making your muscles quake. To keep yourself from slipping, you place one hand on the counter, then use the other to grab onto Matt’s hair. You must grab too hard as he shudders under your fingers, but he keeps up his soft words.

He’s so close and you haven’t been touched in so so long that you cannot take this.

“Matt, please,” you beg and again he shakes under your hand.

“Amen,” you just barely hear before his voice raises just enough to be actually audible, “Don’t worry, my darling, I’ll take care of you, now.”

You nearly lose it when he finally puts his mouth on you. You are already worked up and so sensitive, that a few flicks of his tongue has you mewling. That only serves to encourage him, and he buries himself deeper into your core, moaning shamelessly like he is the one being pleasured. You grip tightly onto his hair to try to keep some composure, but you are already right on the edge.

Your hips start to twitch, and your abdomen starts to tighten before you realize it. Your head rolls back as you start to chant Matt’s name in a pant, begging him to chase your incoming orgasm.

He, of course, happily obeys.

It is not mind shattering, but it has you rocking forward to curl around Matt’s head, your other hand coming around to claw at his shoulders as you come. He keeps his tongue working until your thighs stop quaking, then he pulls back. He grins up at you like he’s a kid in the lewdest candy store - his mouth and chin and glistening with your juices and it’s clear he couldn’t be prouder of himself.

“One,” he purrs out and you start to laugh a little from how cute he is in your giddy state. You remember in your night together all those years ago, he had also counted your orgasms. It didn’t come off as smug then and it definitely doesn’t now.

He effortlessly raises up to his feet and you let your legs fall from his shoulders to wrap around his waist instead. His hands glide down from your hips to your thighs before he tugs you forward so he's holding you up. He slowly starts to back away from the kitchen and you secure your hold on his shoulders, so you don’t slip as he carries you.

You can’t help but lean forward and kiss him. Your slick tastes tart on his lips, but you don’t care - especially when you can feel him melting into your touch. You keep things slow and languid as he brings you to the couch. You pull away as he gently lays you down, but not fully. Your hands drop to his stomach, and you tug at his shirt, “Off.”

“Yes, My Queen.”

He fluidly pulls it off before crawling over you and boxing your head in with his large arms. You loop yours around his neck again as he dips to kiss you again.

The feral need inside of you has been temporarily satiated, so you can enjoy this slower exploration. Your hands smooth over his neck and back and you cannot believe how muscular he is. His suits do a good job to keep him looking lean so that you often forget how much raw power he holds. You feel like you could get lost in just touching him - tracing along his skin to feel each little freckle and scar.

It seems like he could do the same for you. While keeping one arm down to keep himself held up over you, the other makes its way between you. His hand pushes up under your oversized t-shirt and up to your ribs. You aren’t very ticklish, but you still shudder and arch at his touch. He easily finds your breast and massages it a few times before pinching at your nipple.

You gasp into his mouth, and as he begins to tweak and play with it, you have to turn your head away because you can’t keep up with his kissing.

“So sensitive,” he teases in a whisper. He nips at your ear before starting to make his way down your neck again.

“Feels good,” you reply, trying to not whine, but you are pretty sure you fail.

Matt hums in response before scooting down your body. You hook your legs around his waist as he pushes your shirt up to reveal your breasts, then watch as he bends to take one in his mouth. You close your eyes as he begins to suckle and pleasure washes through you.

You bring a hand up to scratch lightly at the base of his skull as he starts to worship your chest. He is sure to make sure your other nipple isn’t neglected, pinching and flicking at it in time with his tongue. It doesn’t take long for your core to start pulsing and gushing again, but Matt stays focused on his task. He starts to alternate which breast gets the attention of his mouth versus his hand and soon enough you are thinking you can cum again just from this.

You start to squirm and pant under him, but it is when you rock your hips into him that he changes course.

You feel him move and adjust, but you don’t know how, as he never neglects you for a second. Once he is how he needs to be, the hand not already preoccupied slips between the two of you. He runs one finger over your slit, pushing between your labia to coat himself in you. You can’t help but moan at the teasing.

But he doesn’t do it long - as soon as he’s slick, he pushes into you.

His finger is thick, and the stretch feels perfect - it isn’t too much, but a little more might be too uncomfortable. He starts to pump his finger in time with his tongue and all you can do is lay there and take it. You are on the edge of being overwhelmed, but right in the state of bliss.

Praise starts to tumble from your mouth this time, as you keep up scratching at his neck and shoulders.

“Feels so good. Already so close. Please, Matt. Need you.”

Before you even realize you are ready for it, he pushes a second finger into you, and you are nearly seeing stars. You know his cock is big and you need the stretching, especially after so long, but part of you just wants him in you now. He’s always so sweet and he’s not going to hurt you in that way, so you know he’s going to make sure you are ready before fucking you.

But you are still going to be needy about it.

You start to roll your hips, wanting more and more and more. It takes you a few tries to match his pace, but once you do, the buildup is quick. You can feel it in your thighs first, tingling and spasming as your release gets closer.

Matt releases your nipple from his mouth long enough to encourage you, “Cum for me, darling. Cum on my fingers.”

He crooks his fingers as he latches back onto you and you white out. You shake and curl as your orgasm rocks you and Matt doesn’t let up at all. His fingers pump and work your way through it until you cannot take any more stimulus and you have to try and crawl away. He takes pity on you and pulls back and slides his fingers out.

They instantly go into his mouth, and he licks them clean in the most obscene way possible. You watch him through half lidded eyes, admiring everything about his physique.

Only once he’s finished his task do you reach for him. Your fingers skate from his chest down his abs until you can grab his boxers and pajama pants. You tug them down enough to free his cock and it is a thing of beauty. It’s thick with a slight curve and one pulsing vein running along it. The head is swollen and red and leaking pre-cum like a faucet. You wrap your fingers around the base and slowly stroke up. Matt’s head rolls back, his lips parting just slightly, and he looks like he is in absolute heaven.

“Didn’t get to taste you last time,” you tease, and you are practically salivating at the idea of having him in your mouth. You want to return all the pleasure he's given you. He needs to be the one to lay back and enjoy your mouth on him.

He groans before rolling forward, so he is hovering over you again. “There will be time for that later, can’t wait for you any longer,” he says in a low voice, and despite his eyes not functioning as they should, you can see the hunger in them.

You more than understand that and lean up to meet him in a kiss. Your hand is still wrapped around him, so you give a few pumps to smear his pre-cum, and as you do, he quietly swears.

“I don’t have a condom.”

The words hit you hard and your eager and horny mind of course throws out the first thing you think, “You already got me pregnant once with one.”

Matt’s nose flares at that and his cock twitches hard in your hand. He swallows thickly before asking, “Are you clean?”

“I am,” you promise. “I haven’t been with anyone since you. Are you?” He gives a jerky nod and when he does, you rub your thumb over his head, teasing the slit, “then I’m okay without one.”

He surges forward to crash into your lips, and you release your hold on him so that he can position himself. You tangle your fingers into his hair again, and to test a little theory, tug at it. He all but moans into your mouth and you can’t help but ask, “Do you like that?”

“Yes,” is his instant reply. It’s his turn to tease when he rubs his cock over your needy cunt. “Bite me, scratch me, do anything you want to me. I’m yours.”

Then he pushes into you and all the thoughts and ideas in your head turn to dust.

Even stretched out, there is still a slight burn, but it feels so wonderful. He starts with slow, shallow thrusts until he is fully inside you, only to settle for a moment. He noses down to your ear and nips at your lobe. He repeats, “I’m yours,” in a low growl before pulling out of you and slamming back in.

The pace he sets isn’t brutal, but it's clear he’s as eager and wanting as you. You drag him back into a kiss, biting at his lips as he gives you exactly what you want - what you need. One hand goes to your throat, wrapping around it but not squeezing. You respond by digging your nails into his shoulder. He hisses into your mouth, but you can tell he likes it by how he reacts.

His other hand grabs you by the hip and tilts your pelvis up so he can drive himself deeper into you. You gasp at the sudden change - his cock is hitting the perfect spot and with each stroke, you feel like you are going to lose your mind and Matt seems to know that. He begins to pepper bites and kisses along your shoulder, sending shocks of pleasure to your core with each one.

Your anxiety is nowhere to be found, so there is nothing to hold you back from clawing at his shoulders and tugging at his hair. You guide him back to your neck, where his bites feel the best, and give breathy pleas. He digs his teeth into you as your third orgasm starts to build.

The arm around his shoulder drops to the couch and you reach for the hand that is holding him up. He allows you to tangle your fingers together and you squeeze his hand as you clench your cunt around him.

“I’m close,” you whimper, just as he starts to lap at your neck.

“Me too,” he pants in reply, “needed you so badly. Need you so badly.” He turns his head to press it hard against your shoulder, and asks the most ridiculous question you’ve ever heard, “do you want me to pull out?”

You shift so you can hook your leg around his waist and dig your heel into the small of his back in response while also tugging hard at his hair.

“Fuck,” he moans into you, instantly starting to pick up his pace to the point the couch is starting to rock, “Yes, I won’t. Fuck.” He starts to chant your name in between swears and you try to use the leverage of your leg to rock your hips to meet his thrusts.

You bite into his shoulder, so you do not cry out as your orgasm takes you by force. It feels like every muscle in your body tenses up and your hips twitch violently and euphoria rushes through you. Matt’s hips sputter once before he buries himself in you.

You lose yourself for a few moments as you quite literally sink into bliss. Your leg relaxes around Matt, sliding down to keep around his thigh as you settle into the couch. He lets go of your hip to allow you to do that, but he follows you down, putting only some of his weight on you like a heavy, warm blanket.

You lessen your grip on his hair so you can begin to give him light scritches and that makes him nuzzle into your neck with a pleased little noise. You return the noise, then use all the effort left in your body to turn your head to kiss his temple and squeeze his hand at the same time.

“Stay like this,” you request. Your eyes are getting heavy, and you don’t fight to keep them open.

“Anything for you, My Queen,” he replies, sounding just as gone as you feel. You manage a chuckle and another kiss to his hairline.

“My sweet knight.”

You fall asleep under Matthew Murdock, your legs, hands, and hearts tangled together.

---

a/n: :3C Next chapter is the zoo.

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#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year

Note

I haven't seen any dog stories in a while. How are Charleston and The Hanukkah Goblin doing?

Dog updates!

The first one is a little sad, but also how life should go. Arwen is 14 now and while she's still moving, eating, pooping and generally enjoying life, she also has canine dementia and sundown syndrome where she gets extremely nervous and her dementia gets worse after dark. She'll be with us for a while yet, but it's something we have to manage now.

One person who is very much helping her manage is Herschel. My parents are traveling a lot while they still have the knees for it so I spend a lot of time up at their house, and Charleston and Herschel come up too. Being a Corgi, Herschel likes to manage things, and Arwen would like someone to manage things for her so he's become her self-appointed guide dog.

When I call the dogs for food or outside, he goes and finds her deaf ass and herds her to the location. Normally she doesn't go outside after dark but when the boys are there she's willing to wait for Charlie to chase away anything that might be lurking out there, and then follow Herschel's ass around the yard at night.

Very literally.

She's also got cataracts forming and I think his bright white backside is easy for her to see in the dark, so she follows it around.

During daytime walks she sees well enough but neither she nor Charlie are fans of strange off-leash dogs running up to them (a regrettably common problem out here. I don't care if your dog is friendly MINE ARE NOT!), so both of them prefer to walk half a pace behind Herschel so his more socially adept and knife-filled face is out front to intercept any unwanted solicitors. This does tend to give people the opposite impression though- because he is so much shorter, Herschel gives the impression of a tiny, charming mafioso flanked by his two large and surly bodyguards.

Like, they absolutely would kill a bear for him.

But Charlie and Arwen would also try to kill a bear on general principle.

At night, when Arwen barks at shadows, Herschel runs up and stand between her and the alleged menace, and does his best to look large and intimidating and for as silly as he looks, he does have a very good growl. After a moment, when the alleged bear or congressman or other horror fails to appear, he will stick his nose into the offending shadow, and finding nothing, be satisfied that their joint effort has successfully chased the problem off, and report back to her. This, more than anything else, seems to alleviate Arwen 's fears.

I guess we all just need someone to take us seriously when we're frightened.

Charleston, meanwhile, has gotten into giving safari tours of the front range's small vertebrates.

After eight years of managing his exceptionally high prey drive, something clicked earlier this summer and instead of immediately lunging his whole face at any approximately bite-sized animal in an attempt to expedite it's journey into his stomach, Charlie has started *pointing* at things until I come look at them and tell him he's a good boy. This started with a mole, something he'd never seen before and that moves above ground in a strange way, so he wasn't sure about eating it, so he only alerted at it. "GOOD BOY!" I shouted, giving him all the cuddles. "GOOD SPOT! GOOD JOB NOT EATING IT!"

It's important to reward behavior you want to see.

Since then, he's been trying out pointing at small creatures in the grass and then making very pointed eye contact with me until I come look at them. This is a little tricky when walking both dogs because Herschel is still very much in his "inhale wildlife" phase, but usually I can lock the little gremlin's leash and go look at whatever Charlie has cornered while Herschel attempts to develop telekinesis to will the critter into his mouth.

So far, Charleston has found: a baby rabbit, several baby rabbits in a cluster, an adult rabbit with Jackalope virus, several voles, several moles, a fledgling owl, only the two mice, several mouse-sized grasshoppers and cicada, someone's pet rat (the person was searching within earshot and 'Socks' was collected forthwith), a beanie baby that had me fooled for a hit minute too, a marmot which I didn't know lived down here, a groundhog which I didn't know lived up here, a mink, so many toads, a wild turkey chick, so many more garter snakes and last night, an aquatic shrew.

I don't know if there's an Audubon Society for small things that scuttle around in the undergrowth, but I am inclined to join solely to get Charleston recognition for his service in surveying them.

#dogs #Charleston Chew #Arwen the crime dog #Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin #family lore

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heartdoomed · 21 days

Text

Cuddling With Them

Pairing: Re Village Ladies

Genre: Fluff, Headcanons

Warnings: Mild sexual implications.

Masterlist

Alcina Dimitrescu

• Alcina is often surprisingly needy between four walls. When she arrives from a long day of stressful calls and dealing with her daughter’s shenanigans there is nothing she’d rather do than just rest her head on your lap and relax against your touch.

• Once this woman is fully comfortable with you, expect to spend entire hours just tangled with her and two glasses of wine.

• If you are a good listener she will brag her lungs out to you in her great drama-fashion. Ends up having someone to talk to is better than throwing expensive furniture at walls! You guys saved enough shopping trips with this.

• If you’re a talker rather than a listener expect everyone to hear you two laughing your hearts out about all shorts of subjects. She loves listening to whatever topics you are passionate about even if they aren’t much of her interest. Maybe she actually just loves how cute you look when you blabber to her.

• Just imagine laying on top/spooning with that woman. It’s like having a giant pillow that hugs you back (and often suffocates you on accident)

• If she isn’t petting your head she is definitely whispering sweet nothings to you. This woman just cant stay away from you when you both finally have a moment to be together in private — even if you two fall silent it will be the best silence you’ve ever experienced.

Bela Dimitrescu

• Oh this woman is absolutely lost in you. She was the first to suggest cuddling and she is an absolute menace when it comes to it. Just expect to be absolutely pampered by her. Pet names, face smooches, head pats, neck kisses, shoulder bites, and so, so much more.

• Bela has a thing for specific caring cuddles, such as cuddling together while you two bath, for example. A warm, fragrant bath is the perfect scenario for you both to relax together. She loves to wash your body, or just to have you help her wash her hair — imagine the unlimited possibilities of a playful bath time together.

• As much as she enjoys pampering you, Bela can be just as much of a pillow princess. She will absolutely love to be spooned or have her hair played with. Humming makes everything even better, she loves your voice, it’s just as comforting as the cuddling itself.

• Also the grumpiest when it comes to actually having to stop cuddling each other. She knows of her duties but leaving you on her bed to chase a runaway maid is inconvenient enough.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

• Putting it simply; It’s a challenge.

• If working on her feelings for you was hard, imagine getting this woman to give out affection like this? At first she thought cuddling was a waste of time, that she could be doing incredibly hunts with the time wasted doing nothing. That changed once you two first tried it out.

• You could never imagine how actually needy she was under her though behavior. Even more shocking was the fact that she once demanded you to spoon her instead. Of course she also enjoys spooning you, though getting away from her lock grip is almost impossible.

• She has this thing for feeling you as a whole; Taking in your scent, feeling your chest raise and fall, admiring your face while your eyes are closed. She is the jealous type after all, it’s just fair that she’d want to admire what is hers — though she will get flustered if you do the same, she is just not 100% used to romance.

• She is definitely a snarky cuddler, though. She will bite you if you end up teasing her about her softer side and if you both aren’t careful enough, a wrestling session will get her riled up.

Daniela Dimitrescu

• Are you kidding me? This woman LOVES cuddling to a point where she would actively “kidnap” you in order to receive more cuddles.

• She is a hopeless lover, of course she is kissing the hell of you during your cuddles. She finds it too adorable whenever you get flustered from her kisses, she may even get feisty and bite you out of playfulness.

• Prepare to do all short of things too, from reading books together to pillow fighting and covering all of her room in feathers — She will shoo you away in time to not get in trouble with Alcina. Her room is so full of secret passages that at some point you just got used to sneaking in and out whenever.

• Rainy dark nights awake together? Absolutely. You two would whispers secrets to each other while forgetting the need of sleeping.

• If you both just opt for a simple time together, get your ears ready to hear Dani blabbering about all shorts of stuff while getting comfortable onto you — If you stare too much at her you might even be able to rip out a blush or chuckle.

Donna Beneviento

• Oh, this poor woman.

• If showing her face to you took enough courage and self confidence of her, cuddling is a total different level of trust.

• Don’t take it personally, this woman loves you with every fiber of her being but receiving affection and giving affection aren’t things she is used with.

• But as soon as you two work it up you better be ready to be trapped. Once you two start cuddling Donna just can’t believe how much she loves it. She feels safe, protected, loved at least — This is better than anything she had ever imagined.

• At first things would be slow and steady, testing each other’s likings and boundaries. She loves to have her hair played with — she is a small spoon by nature, even if she is taller than you. When she is eventually comfortable enough to give you affection back, she often humms to you as she caresses your hand or back.

• She often gets flustered when you call out her cute antics that she hadn’t showed yet, she has her own affection mannerisms that she does her best to hide but you always encourage her to show herself more.

• Don’t be surprised if she easily falls asleep while cuddling with you, this woman is so affection deprived that being this comfortable around someone allows her to rest without worries. Funnily enough if she does falls asleep don’t expect to be able to escape her death grip, you are staying until she wakes up again.

Mother Miranda

• By far the most possessive but also the most demanding.

• It was kinda shocking to see Miranda undressed of all of her usual robes, without a mask her tiredness was visible but so was her piercing gaze upon you.

• You are her lover but she often calls you a pet nonetheless. Maybe she enjoys the thought— no, the certainty that you belong to her and that is a fact you can’t escape. She is a equally giver and a receiver, she demands obedience but also demands you to embrace her whenever she feels personally needy.

• Something she loves to do is to have your head on her lap as you two rest on her chambers. Reading letters and paperwork is much productive when she has you by her side, her slender fingers travel across your skull with a hauntingly soft touch — she will most certainly smile she feels your lips kissing her hand or your hand intertwining with hers.

• Expect either a comforting imperial silence or just whispers between the both of you. She prefers quiet cuddle sessions, probably due to her recurrent headaches from dealing with her bickering children.

• Just make sure to not tease or be too needy around her or this cuddling session will take a much heated turn.

AN: Phew I had a sweet time writing these! Hopefully more scenarios are coming soon~ Stares intently at my ask box

#resident evil village #resident evil #re village #alcina dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #mother miranda x reader #resident evil scenarios

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