#been really down today of all days like this

[back2bluesidex]

We Need Practice - JJK (18+)

A Sequel to Novice.

Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: Fluff, smut

Wordcount: 2.1k+

Summary: Jungkook wants you to ride him and you are too bad at that.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, messy cock riding, cumming all over body, they are down bad for each other, more fluff than I intended to have, confessions. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

Masterlist | Patreon

“Don’t judge a book by its cover” 

You have heard this phrase for thousands of times in your entire lifetime but you have hardly had any chance of actually implying the same in your life. 

But then you met Jungkook and you understood how true that one sentence can be. 

Jeon Jungkook is the text-book definition of what those cliched bad-boys or fuckboys would look like. 

With a hand full of tattoos, silver rings dangling from piercings, impressively structured body and a small waist that could rival female models, he really looks like someone who would be fucking people and putting on a show out of it. 

And that is exactly what he does. 

Pornstar Jeon Jungkook is actually very notorious. 

But Jeon Jungkook as a person is a completely different story. 

After that one encounter at that porn movie set, he asked for your number and you complied with his request thinking of he could give you some of the best fucks of your life (not that you have had many fucks to brag about in the first place). 

If you are being honest, then you never expected him to be the sweetheart that he actually is. Since the day you two exchanged numbers, he never once asked if he could come over during god-forbidden hours of night. He never once asked for your nude pictures, neither did he ever force you to meet him. 

Rather he sends you funny dog videos, funny tik tok clips and asks you how was your day. And you can’t lie about the fact that your heart has already started acting strange, like it flutters everytime Jungkook’s name glows on your dark phone screen. 

It’s been more than a month since you have been chatting regularly and now you are getting a little impatient. 

As much as you appreciate his good-boy vibes, you would like to see him again, touch him again. 

So you do what you have been thinking of doing for more than a week now. 

“Sleeping?” you hit send, praying to the universe that he doesn’t find you a desperate bitch for what you are going to do. 

The clock reads 2:15 am already, and just then his reply arrives, “nah. Can’t sleep. What about you?” 

“Me too. Can’t sleep.” 

You take a deep breath before typing the next message, “do you wanna hangout?” 

Just when you are about to add “at my place” to complete your proposition, his reply hits your screen, “Send me your address. And wear something warm before I ask you to come out.” 

Wait. is he? Taking you out? 

Even though you were trying to ask for sex but this option feels even better to be honest. 

So you send him your address and he texts you that he will be there within 10 minutes. Wearing your gray padding, you wait for him to arrive at your place. 

Another positive point about Jeon Jungkook is that he is punctual. You might even call him a green flag because your phone dings with a “I am here” text right on 2:27 am. 

The scene that unfolds in front of you once you come out of your apartment, almost leaves your jaw hanging mid air. 

Jungkook has arrived with a bike, dressed in complete black. If you drooled a little at the sight then you would never admit that. 

Once he sees you awkwardly walking towards him, he takes off his helmet and welcomes you with one of his infamous bunny smiles. 

Your heart does a little flip inside your chest. 

His big doe eyes shine amid the darkness as if those are made of some priceless stone. At this moment it’s really tough to believe that he is a pornstar, who fucks people on camera to earn a living. 

“Hey. you look beautiful.” he greets you with a compliment when you come close to him. 

“You look even more handsome today.” you return his compliment genuinely. And at that, the tip of his ears turn red. 

“Ah thanks.” he replies shyly as he hands you a helmet. And gestures to you to mount his fancy bike. 

You take the helmet, slip that on your head and hold him by his shoulders to climb on his bike. 

Once you have settled, he revves the engine. 

“Hold me tightly” he says briefly before setting the bike in motion. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him just as he asked you to. 

The deserted road, the trees whooshing by, the buildings that look peaceful, everything feels so beautiful. 

Maybe it’s because of the hour or maybe it’s because you are with someone you like. 

The bike comes to a halt at a crossing and you slide up the windshield of your helmet, “where are we going?” 

He looks at you through the mirror, slides his own windshield up and gives you another sickening smile, but doesn’t say anything. 

5 more minutes later he parks the bike beside a huge lake. 

It looks like a secluded area. The lake is mostly hidden amid big trees and surrounded by fishing spots and some benches. 

Jungkook spreads his hand before you once you both are standing side by side. 

You take the cue and place your hand on his. He intertwines his fingers with yours and you start blushing. Thanks to the darkness, he wouldn’t be able to witness it. 

Once you are sitting on a bench, Jungkook starts, “I often come here to fish with my hyungs. This is my first time coming here with a woman.” 

When you look at him, you find him already staring at you, “Really? You look like the type to have a lot of girlfriends, you know?” 

“Is it because of my profession?” there is a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

So you press on his hand, which is still intertwined with yours and say, “no. not because of that. It’s just that you are generally very attractive and charming, Jungkook.” 

His face brightens up with a beautiful smile, “Too bad, I was about to say the same about you. But you snatched my words.” 

Your eyes widen at his compliment, “You find me attractive?” 

“Why? Why are you so surprised? Is it wrong to find someone attractive?” he giggles, staring deep into your eyes. 

“No. Th-that’s not what I meant. I mean, you know, you work with far more attractive women than me. So.. it’s kind of unlikely actually.” you fumble with your words. 

Jungkook chuckles at your explanation, “they are just colleagues, Y/N. Just like any other profession, we have a strict business relationship. And honestly, they are not even my type. You, on the other hand, fit perfectly into the category of women I would love to date.” 

Your eyes go even wider at his confession, “you.. You want to date me?” 

“If you let me. If you trust me despite the nature of my profession… I would love to make you mine.” Jungkook breathes slowly, his eyes drop down to your lips. 

Before you can voice your answer, your intrusive thoughts win and you reach up, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“I think I would love it too.” 

And then you find yourself being pulled by the back of your neck as Jungkook crashes his lips on yours. It’s passionate, it’s overwhelming, it’s so beautiful and you never felt anything close to this. 

He licks the seam of your lower lip asking you to grant him permission, you let him inside your mouth. 

His tongue probes into your mouth testing each corner, you moan into his mouth. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you even closer. 

And then you feel one, two, three and then multiple drops of rain falling on you two. 

He detaches his lips from yours, “fuck. It’s raining.” 

“Let’s go back to my place.” you reply, trying to cover your heads with your hands. 

It’s been one of your bucket list wishes to ride a bike in the rain with the person you love and probably it’s going to come true today. 

You hold him tightly, pressing your chest on his back, not in a sexual, but in a loving manner. It starts raining heavily within a few minutes, and Jungkook quickens his speed to reach your destination as soon as possible. 

“Where are you going?” you place your question, seeing Jungkook putting on his helmet again after dropping in front of your apartment entrance. 

Even though the rain has turned into drizzle now, it still can be quite dangerous to drive a bike in this weather.  

“Home. Where else?” he adds a little sheepishly. 

“Jungkook, it’s still raining. I don’t think it’s any wiser to go home now, you’re drenched on top of that. Come inside. You can leave after the sunrise. If you want.. I mean.” you propose, he seems to think for a bit. 

“I don’t think I should go inside, Y/N.” Jungkook looks at the ground as if it’s more interesting than your face. 

“Why? What’s wrong?” you are truly confused now. 

“I might not be able to control myself…” his voice fades by the time he manages to end the sentence. 

“Did I say I want you to control?” you bite your lip, hoping that you don’t appear to be too desperate to him. 

His eyes go wider inside his bulky helmet. 

Jungkook pushes your naked body on the mattress. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you felt that day.” He groans while biting down on the skin of your neck. 

Your hands roam around the smooth skin of his back. Everytime you scratch his back, he moans a little. 

“So pretty, so delicate, so perfect for me.” Jungkook groans again. 

One of his hands reaches down, finding your clit within a moment. It’s as if he has studied the map of your body with earnest interest. 

Drawing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, he pulls out melodic moans out of your throat. 

“Jun-jungkook mmm..” you moan again. 

“Yes baby. Say my name again.” he urges you while entering your heat with his middle finger. His digit plunges inside you, making you see stars indoors. 

“Jungko- I’m close” you manage to voice somehow. And as soon as those words fly out of your mouth, he empties you. 

You look at him being dumbfounded. He smirks at you, knowing what exactly he has done. 

“I want you to cum on my cock. I am hard as hell, baby.” he confesses blatantly. 

Just when you are about to hold him, he flips you around. So, now you are sitting on his thighs.  

“I want you to ride me.” he adds a little breathlessly. And you almost choke on your own spit. 

“What? I-I don’t..” 

“I will guide you, Y/N.” he cuts you off. 

He helps you in taking off his slacks along with his underwear. Once he is naked, he holds you by your waist and lines your entrance along with his cock. 

“Are you ready?” he asks briefly. You nod in affirmation. And then he is sliding you down his length. 

At first his length is overwhelming but you adjust fast. 

“You should move now.” Jungkook’s voice is laced with lust, his eyes are hazy, making him look even more attractive than he already is. 

You honestly have no idea how to move. So you try to implement your visual experience. However, it’s tough once you start bouncing on his cock. Even though Jungkook is guiding you well, you are messy regardless. 

Your moves and Jungkook’s thrusts don’t match at all and the experience is nothing like that day. 

You really are a novice. 

Even though the friction is delicious for you, Jungkook’s expression tells that he is very underwhelmed. So, you start trying your best. With a few more bounces, you cum all over his cock, creaming it perfectly. 

As soon as you are done, Jungkook flips you around again. He slips out of you and starts playing himself. 

Even though you are in your post-orgasm haze, it’s embarrassing for you. You couldn’t help him finish and he had to take the charge himself. 

With a few more pumps, he cums all over your body. Starting from your face, to your stomach, everything gets creamed in his white hot seed. 

And it’s hot. He is hot. And you are pathetic. 

“I-I’m sorry. I know it was bad.” you manage to voice once Jungkook is done with himself. 

“You are not bad, baby. We just need more practice together.” and then he is sealing his lips with yours again. 

You certainly need more practice with him. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

[azsazz]

All's Well That Ends Well

Hockey!Azriel x Figure Skater!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: our figure skater bby would totally wear azzies jersey over her pretty sparkly dress if he wanted her to 🥺

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,044

Notes: Belongs to the Shut Out & Penance & Out of Order world

_________________________________________

Raucous clapping and cheering surround you.

Your chest heaves from exertion, but it’s a good feeling, one that goes all the way to your bones, one you know will linger for days. That’s okay, because you nailed your performance today. This competition is in the bag.

The smile you’d been forcing onto your face for the entirety of your routine turns into a real grin at the noise. You pull yourself from your ending stance, taking a quick skate around the rink one last time, waving to those in the stands. The energy in the arena is insane and you’re really feeling it, a splitting smile on your face that falters when you meet the familiar hazel gaze of Azriel.

He’s not supposed to be here.

The Velaris Bat’s have one of their most important games of the season tonight against the Springview Wolves, their rival team of almost four decades. You have no idea how the feud started and don’t care to know; something about a broken bone or a girlfriend being stolen, you have no idea and didn’t care to listen when Cassian tried explaining it to you one night at the local dive bar you’d run into a few of the players at. 

You’d turned right the fuck around when you saw them and pulled out your phone to text your friends to meet up with you somewhere else because you see enough of the hockey team whilst having to share one rink, but Azriel had caught you before you could dip outside and all but dragged you into the back alley for some precarious touching that you were not going to say no to.

You’ve been a little tense lately leading up to your competition. No one would have blamed you for what you did with the sexy hockey player.

Azriel looks proud. There’s a slight lift to the corner of his mouth, the most emotion he’ll show in public like this, even though he thrives off of the chaos of the arena when he plays. His hazel eyes sparkle as they track you, how you only have eyes for him as you skate closer, a frown on your face, no doubt wondering why the hell he’s here instead of warming up for his own game that’s set to start in a few minutes.

He couldn’t miss your performance, though. The one you’ve been raving about all semester. The one you were worried about all night a few nights ago when his head was buried between your legs. Not even that could keep you from thinking about your performance today, immediately after he’d drawn multiple orgasms from you, you went right back worrying.

Shifting on your skates, you fly toward the door. Ice sprays when you shift, stopping abruptly before passing through the door, ignoring your coach in favor of rushing over to where Azriel’s standing stock still.

“What are you doing here?” you exclaim, falling into his arms when he opens them. Your heart flutters at the feeling of his strong hands warm on your hips. He’s here, he’s really fucking here.

He’s dressed in his hockey gear, and it’s clear that instead of hitting the ice with his team he’s snuck to the finally finished rink to watch your routine. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he whispers, and Azriel can’t help but pull you further into him. Can’t help but to dip down and capture you in a kiss so searing that it fully takes your breath away. It’s a little awkward, because of all of the padding he has on, but the both of you make it work. He adores the blush that stains your cheeks pink when you pull away, and it really is a shame he has his cup on right now, because his erection is pressing painfully against it. “Cass and Rhys are covering for me. I couldn’t miss this.”

“Really?” Tears fill your eyes. He’s proven himself to you, time after time, that he’s here for you, even though the both of you aren’t anything more than friends who like the feeling of each other’s fingers and tongues, hands, and intimate parts. “But your game, it’s important.” 

“I’ll make it before puck drop,” Azriel reassures, “If I leave, well, now actually. I just needed to see you. Wanted to give you this.” You hadn’t noticed the jersey hanging over his arm, but when Azriel holds it up, showing off the number eight and his last name to you. “I hate to cover up your dress because you look sexy as fuck,” he murmurs, drinking you in once again. The feeling of his hot gaze makes your knees weak. “But I’m a selfish man. I can’t have anyone else looking at you like this, baby. And I want to see my name on your back.”

Fuck, does he have a way with words.

“Okay,” you breathe, letting Azriel help you into the black and purple jersey. It drapes long over your body, the fabric swallowing you, but you don’t care because the look in Azriel’s eyes is pure fire. “How do I look?” You ask innocently, giving him a twirl and reveling in his agonized groan. 

“Tell me you’re mine tonight,” He asks gruffly, pulling you back into him by the fabric of the jersey. You move into him easily, wrapping your arms around his neck. Azriel’s breath is hot across your lips, and if you weren’t in the middle of a competition, you’d let him take you right now. “We’ll both have something to celebrate.” 

Your brows furrow in confusion and Azriel grins, tilting his head to the scoreboard behind you with your scores. You currently hold the top score for the competition, with only a few skaters left to go. Holy shit you’re in first place. 

You squeal, jumping up and down in his arms. Indeed, you’ll have something to celebrate tonight, when the Bat’s take home their win, and you with your own.

“Yes, Az. I’m yours,” you whisper, accepting his kiss. “Now, go beat the Wolves. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You better be,” Azriel says with a wink and a teasing pinch to your ass. “I need my good luck charm there to help me win.”

_________________________________________

Hockey!AU Tag (will be tagged for any hockey fic, no matter paring):

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @blackthorngirl @i-am-infinite @feerique

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

[3.3k] a tired girlfriend, an eager to please steve. a flip and reverse it fic of this smutty oneshot.

If you’d not already made Steve aware of your bad day on your lunch break via a rushed, staticky phone call, he would’ve definitely caught onto quickly when you arrived home.

The door hit your hip as you battered your way inside the small hall, a curse leaving your lips in a way that was rougher than usual. He heard your bag hit the floor, a cacophony of dull thumps as you toed off your shoes and let them hit the baseboards, uncaring for once about the scuffs they left on the wood.

It would be tomorrow’s problem, and right now, the current one was his to fix.

You’d called to tell him that not only was today going horrifically, but that you’d been forced into working late as well. Mournful, you’d told him to not wait and have dinner without you, that you’d see to yourself whenever you arrived home. And now at almost nine o’clock, you really couldn’t face the idea of eating a large meal before diving face first into your side of the bed. But still, the house smelled appeasing, garlic and tomatoes and something like your favourite candle burning underneath it all coming from the kitchen.

It’s where you found Steve, leaning against the sink as he finished washing his own empty plate, leftover chicken on the stove if you wanted it. He turned at the sound of you, wet hands avoiding touching you but arms open all the same. He hummed something sympathetic when you closed your own around his waist, nose pressed to the middle of his chest as you groaned aloud before breathing him in.

He ducked down, lips on the crown of your head. “Baby.”

It was the sweetest of greetings, soft and full of an aching affection that made your shoulders slump and your eyes prick with hot tears. You let out a whine, a pitiful thing that made you press your face into the man’s chest a little harder and Steve cooed back with the same amount of understanding.

“You’re home now,” he murmured against your forehead, kisses stamped there too. He didn’t mention your bad day, no need now that it was over and he was there to fix it. “Lemme dry my hands and say ‘hi’ properly, huh? You hungry? I can put more garlic bread in the oven if you want some.”

You didn’t respond, not when Steve was drying his hands off on the towel hanging from the oven door and grasping your chin with a finger and thumb. It was so easy to smile with his touch on you, his attention. The corners of your lips lifted as he moved into you, big hand holding your jaw still for him as he kissed you. It was familiar and sweet and over a little too quickly but when he pulled back and saw your closed eyes and pout, Steve grinned and moved back in.

“Want ‘nother?” He whispered, too soft to sound teasing but you knew him well enough. Eyes still closed, you nodded, nose bumping against his own as you pushed up onto your toes and tried to find his lips with yours own. “Poor girl,” he told you, pouting right back. “My girl, my pretty, pretty girl.”

His kisses were more languid now, slower, deeper, easier to get lost in. Steve hummed against you, hands on the small of your back and keeping you tucked in close. His words had the right effect, softening you, making you hold onto him that little bit tighter, your hands fisting the front of t-shirt in a way that had his head spinning.

“Can I get you some food, huh? You wanna eat?” Steve asked, kissing at your cheek, nose pushed to the warm apple of it as you tried to get your bearings. The kitchen was warmer than before. “Go get changed and I can plate up for you.”

You shook your head as you held onto him, working yourself closer as Steve attempted to move to the stove.

“Baby—”

You didn’t say anything as you buried your face into the crook of his neck but you didn’t have to. Steve just leant back against the counter top, taking you with him. He wound his arms around you, holding you against him, warm and solid and the best thing you’d felt all day. It was easy to let out the sigh you’d been holding as he kissed at your cheek, head lolling to the side as he worked his mouth down your jaw and over your neck, kisses open mouthed and warm.

He didn’t have to do too much to make you let out other noises, softer, raspier ones that morphed into small moans and gasps. Teeth grazed over your pulse point as large hands wandered down, fingers cupping at the swell of your ass and you held onto Steve’s shoulders, eyes closed and head tipped to the side so he could do what he wanted to you.

Steve groaned as you fell pliant against him, your body moulding to his more than ever as you tried to work your way closer to his warmth, his hands, the smell of his leftover aftershave that clung to his neck.

“Want me to make you feel good?” He murmured, still kissing at the pieces of your skin that he could reach. Your black dress that you wore to the office seemed suddenly too encasing, the cotton fabric restricting him from all the places he wanted to touch. “Hmm? Want me to make you forget about your shitty day, honey?”

The idea seemed divine, heavenly, actually. Enough to make you sigh all pretty and whine when Steve’s teeth nipped gently at your jawline, your head tipping back and lips parting at his attention. But your body was bone tired, thrumming with the need your boyfriend had lit inside of you with his touch but your limbs ached, muscles already protesting at still being on your feet.

Regretful, you opened your eyes to meet Steve’s, his gaze overwhelming adoring as he gazed down at you, watching the way your body and face responded to each sweep of his fingers over your waist.

“I would love that,” you told him, voice soft and as quiet as his own. The hum of the fridge was the only other sound in the room, the soft glow of the light above the stove making Steve seem peach coloured, highlighted in gold. “But I don’t think I could hold myself up long enough.”

You tried to lighten your tone with a smile, tired as it was. And Steve could’ve responded with something dirty about having you on your back as he had his way with you but instead, he ducked down to kiss you again, soft and at the corner of your mouth.

“What if I look after you, hm?” He asked you, as kind and gentle as his kisses were. Each question was punctuated with another push of his mouth against yours, the rasp of his stubble against your cheek making your toes curl. “You won’t have to do a thing, honey. Jus’ gotta look pretty for me, yeah? Let me make you feel better? You wanna do that?”

It sounded like an offer you couldn’t turn down, enticing and as sweet as the boy in front of you. You knew that if you said no and asked to go to bed instead, Steve would lead you there with a kind hand and tuck you into bed himself - his offer was very much for you and not him. You could see it in the way he was gazing down at you, warm and affectionate as he pushed the baby hairs away from your eyes and dropped a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You’d done the same for him before, making him forget about any worries or stress he had as you handed him a stiff drink and then let him use your mouth, sitting on his laps and letting him play with you as he pleased.

So you nodded, breath exhaling in a shaky gasp and Steve stole one more kiss from you before gently nudging you towards the living room.

Steve met you there, where the lights were dimmed and the curtains were already closed and he sat on the slumped cushions of your well loved sofa and held out a hand. “C’mere, honey.”

He led you forward, fingers caught in his and he coaxed you onto his knee, legs spreading until you were sat on his lap, your dress hitching above your knees. “There y’go,” Steve praised. “You just sit there for me, yeah? Lookin’ too pretty, did I tell you that? Even prettier than last time I saw you, god, what did I tell you ‘bout doing that, huh?”

You couldn’t help your grin as Steve spoke sweetly, all charm and that soft smile that made your tummy flip, the tips of his fingers running down the tops of your bare arms. “Shut up,” you mumbled, embarrassed and pleased and shy all at once.

“What?” Steve grinned right back. “You know what I’m talking about. You just keep gettin’ prettier, babe, s’not good for my health.”

He’d complimented you enough for a kiss, one you greedily gave as you leaned in, hands pressed to his abdomen as you took what he gave you, greedy for the softness of his lips, more of his touch.

Steve hummed, giving you what you wanted before he pushed you back again, just slightly, gaze wandering down to your chest, to the tiny buttons that held the front of your dress together. He tapped the top one, his other hand grazing over your knee. “Can I make you more comfortable?”

You nodded, sensing the shift in the room, in him. It was quiet, the television off, the streets outside quiet in the late hour, no traffic or garden sprinklers to be heard from beyond the window.

Steve smiled as he popped the first button, then the second, then the third. It was enough for the straps of your dress to loosen and slip, dropping from your shoulders to expose more of you, your cleavage becoming visible, that pretty expanse of skin on show for Steve. The man cooed at the sight, fingertips trailing over your chest, dipping between your breasts until you made a soft noise and arched your back for him.

“There you go,” Steve whispered. “Nice?”

“Yeah,” you whispered back. You didn’t want to ask for more already, you wanted to be patient. But Steve was close to smirking. “Babe—”

“I know,” he assured you. “Gimme a sec, honey.” His hand trailed back to the buttons, the last three popping open under his nimble touch and the lacy cups of your bra appeared. The dress fell apart, dropping from your upper body and Steve blew out a breath. “Oh, you’re just the prettiest.”

You grew warm under Steve’s stare, his own cheeks turning pink as he took his time looking over you. You kept your chin high as he ran one finger down the middle of your chest, dipping into the space between your breasts, that soft spot of skin that made goosebumps erupt. “Can I see more? Gonna let me play w’you?”

You could only nod.

So Steve took that same single digit and hooked it into the first bra cup, pulling down, and then the same to the other side. It felt filthy being exposed like that, the band of your bra still around your ribs, the cups pulled down to free your tits, nipples peaking immediately on contact with the cooler air.

Steve groaned, lips parting at the sight before him and he shifted under you, the tent in his sweatpants growing. But he didn’t try much more than reaching out to graze the pad of one finger over a nipple. You gasped, body jerking slightly at the new touch, skin sensitive. And Steve mumbled something soothing, flicking his finger over your nipple until it stiffened entirely, hard and begging for more attention.

He pinched it, the skin darkening further, your mouth opening in a silent plea and he got a little mean, just the way you liked him to be. Steve pulled, letting go to watch your breast bounce back and he grinned before giving the other side the same attention. He cupped you, too big hands gathering your tits in his palms as he pressed them together and lay kisses across your chest, soft and sweet until his lips parted and he could sweep the flat of his tongue over a nipple.

You whined, back arching further, pushing yourself against his mouth, hands finding the back of his head so you could hold onto his hair. It made him grunt, teeth grazing ever, ever so gently over you. A soft bite, more tongue than teeth before he sucked at you, his nose pressed into your soft skin with intent.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, fingers squeezing, palms moulded to you. “Baby, you’ve got the prettiest tits. Pretty all over, huh?” He pulled at your nipples again, a little harsh, eyes glazed over as he let go and watched them harden even further. “That good?”

You squirmed in answer, trying to find some friction against his leg but Steve kept his own knees spread, the junction between your thighs hovering over empty space and keeping you open for him.

“C’mon, tell me,” Steve reminded you, squeezing a warm, rough hand over your breast again. His thumb flicked your nipple, his smile too sweet. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah,” you told him, brows scrunched and lips pouted. Your breath was coming heavier than before, chest heaving, tits arching forward for more of Steve’s mean touch. “Yeah, s’really good.”

The breathiness of your voice made the man groan, eyes half lidded as he settled back into the sofa and watched you grab at the hem of his shirt, grounding yourself. “Good girl,” he told you, voice quiet like before but a little raspier. “Let’s get this out the way, yeah?” He tugged at the bottom of your dress, lifting the hem until it dragged over the tops of your thighs.

You were burning now, tits on display, dress hanging off you, bra tangled around your ribs and your underwear on show. Steve grinned as he spread his knees a little wider still, opening yours further in return. He had you positioned on his lap, thighs open, the damp spot on your cotton underwear very much seen. Steve pressed his thumb there, over your entrance, pushing softly until he heard you moan his name.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve cursed, “already got yourself all worked up, haven’t you?”

You nodded, hips bucking against nothing and the thought of having to stand up to take your underwear off seemed too much of a task. “Steve, babe— Steve, please.”

The man tutted at you, cheeks reddening at your begging, his cock hard under his sweats, pressing against the cotton and twitching for release. But Steve wasn’t doing this to tease and he wasn’t doing this for himself. So he hushed you with soft hands and soft sounds before he gave a harsh tug to the elastic sides of your underwear and ripped the seam.

If you hadn’t been desperate before, that did it.

You squeaked, clinging to Steve’s hips as he pushed the now torn cotton out of the way, your spread cunt fully on show for him. He wasn’t subtle in his staring, his jaw unhinged as he murmured sweet, dirty words to you, his hands soothing up the insides of your thighs, kneading the doughy skin there.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “Pretty girl with a pretty pussy, huh?” His hands met at the juncture of your thighs, thumbs framing your folds so he could pull apart your lips, spreading you for his own viewing pleasure. “So wet, baby. You wanna come for me? Can I make you come nice and hard, yeah?”

You were gone, nodding with a head that felt too heavy, your nails digging into the tops of Steve’s arms to keep yourself balanced and you might have been whispering, begging over and over again, breathless and tits heaving as you tried to suck in enough air to keep yourself upright.

Steve didn’t need to work you up anymore, using one thumb to push at your clit, a soft press that had you immediately keening. You’d been with Steve long enough to have told him - and shown him - exactly how you liked to be touch. And despite his academic downfalls, he was a quick study in the bedroom. He didn’t falter in his pace nor his pressure, keeping a steady, slow circle over your clit as he watched your face.

He smiled when he saw your features go slack, a lazy, warm softness take over your expression, lips parting, eyes unfocused.

“That’s it, honey,” he praised. “You sit there and look pretty for me. Hmm? Yeah, like that, keep those legs open and lemme watch you come, wanna see that pretty, little pussy soak my hand.” Steve let out a rough sigh when you whined, one of your hands leaving his bicep to cup at his jaw and he turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, to nip at your thumb. “Pretty girl, pretty baby.”

He didn’t slip any fingers inside of you and you didn’t ask. In fact, Steve merely let his thumb run down between your folds and gather the wetness there. He hummed when you gasped, grinned when you moaned and then took his thumb back to your swollen button as his free hand cupped your tit. He squeezed and plucked at your nipple as his thumb circled, pulling and pushing you closer to an orgasm, all while your cunt clenched around nothing.

“Close, honey?” Steve asked as you swore, hips canting forward, your brows scrunching prettily as you neared the edge. You gasped your confirmation, falling forward into your boyfriend, foreheads touching, noses bumping and you breathed in the air that Steve exhaled out. “Yeah, you are, can see it on your face, baby, you wanna come real bad, don’t you?”

Steve kept his pace the same, circles messy over your wet and swollen clit, his words dirtier than ever, his breath coming out in heavy gasps as he tried to coax you into letting go as you tried to kiss him. Your lips found his jaw, his chin, the corner of his mouth as you groaned and whined and gasped his name, Steve’s eyes fluttering shut as you tried to clamber closer to him but he kept you seated with a sharp tug on your nipple.

“Nuhuh, baby, sit still. Be good, m’gonna get you there,” he promised, muscles in his forearm flexing as he worked you that little harder. “Come for me, yeah? Come nice ‘n hard, pretty girl and I’ll let you have my fingers. You can come ‘round my fingers, yeah? Wanna feel you get nice n’ tight for me— oh, fuck, that’s it—”

It was easy to tell when you’d fallen over the edge, your jaw unhinged as you pressed forward into Steve’s chest, biting at the meat of his shoulder to smother your long, gasping moan. His name came out in several syllables, your hands finding his hair again as you tugged, your mouth finding his just as Steve swore, two fingers slipping into your aching cunt easily, your walls pulsing around them in a way that had his dick throbbing in the same pattern.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Steve grunted, hooking the pads of his digits into you and keeping them there, stuffing you full in a way he hadn’t given you before you’d come. “Such a good girl, feel better, yeah?”

Glassy eyed, you could only nod, nosing at the side of his neck, hands threading through the ends of his hair as if you’d float away if you let go.

Maybe you would.

Heavy limbed and more bone tired than before, you curled into Steve’s chest, sighing warmly when his arms welcomed you closer. He smelled like cologne and home and sex, and before your eyes closed completely, you managed to whisper into his jawline:

“M’gonna return the favour,” you promised. “Tomorrow. M’gonna return it tomorrow.”

[matchingbatbites]

Eddie is weird.

It's something that Steve knew long before he actually knew Eddie, the older boy's oddities and eccentricities on display for anyone to see. Past Steve used to roll his eyes whenever Eddie would push against the flow of normal, but present Steve enjoys it, Eddie's brand of different. 

That's really the reason why he pretends not to notice when Eddie takes things.

Nothing crazy, nothing valuable, and that's honestly the real reason he hasn't said anything about it. He watches Eddie pocket bottle caps from the kids' sodas and paper clips from the Family Video counter, even the little tables from the pizza boxes when they have a movie night.

Steve doesn't understand why Eddie collects these little odds and ends, just sees it as another one of his quirks. Until he finally sees where everything is going.

They're walking to the corner store that's fairly close to the trailer park, the sun on its way to setting but not quite there yet. The conversation that flows between them is easy, easier than Steve ever thought it could be, and it makes something in him want to curl up and purr like a contented cat. 

He's telling Eddie about something that happened at the grocery store today, when the older boy makes a soft noise of delight before crouching and grabbing something from the pavement. Steve barely gets a look at the penny, but he can tell from just a glimpse that it's seen better days and has more than likely been run over by a few cars, if the scratches on it are anything to go by. 

Eddie makes another happy noise as he stands once more and tucks the coin into his jacket pocket, and Steve picks his story back up like nothing happened. It doesn't get mentioned at all, but Steve can see the extra pep in Eddie's step, like he's so excited over something so simple, yet trying to contain it.

His silent joy is contagious, and by the time they get back to the trailer, they're practically plastered together at their sides and giggling like children. Steve nearly forgets about the penny, until Eddie drops his bag of snacks onto the little kitchen table and beelines to his room. So, so curious, Steve leaves his own bag next to Eddie's before following.

The older boy is crouched on the floor by the bed, and Steve watches as he pulls out what appears to be a shoebox, possibly for a pair of work boots, and sets it on the bed. Steve gets a brief look at the lid and the chicken-scratch Crow Box written on the top before Eddie opens it, and a few things quickly make sense.

The box is full of little things, even more than what Steve has seen Eddie take and pocket, a clear sign that that has been ongoing for years. Little plastic dinosaurs and incredibly smooth or shiny rocks, a chain of colored paper clips and a plastic cup full of acorn hats. There's even an old pencil box that appears to house a small hoard of bottle caps, all different colors, tucked in neatly next to a handful of the pizza tables. 

The whole collection is actually well organized, and Steve watches as Eddie takes the new penny from his pocket and drops it into a tin can full of other scratched and beaten coins.

"That's quite a collection," Steve says without even thinking, and Eddie looks up with wide eyes, like he wasn't expecting Steve to follow. Steve just crouches down next to him, resisting the urge to reach out and pick up one of the acorn hats, or one of the dinosaurs. "Any reason behind it?"

Eddie just shrugs and looks down at the box. He takes one of the shiny rocks and offers it to Steve, who gladly takes it and rolls it in his fingers. "They're weird, or actually, they're things that are so normal, they're invisible. Things people usually don't think about, or throw out, or walk right by. They're… different. But I like them."

God, Steve has never related to a feeling more. Seeing something that other people just brush off or ignore and wanting to be the one to cherish it. 

"I can get that," he says as he drops the rock back into the cup with its siblings. "I mean, you're different, and I like you, so." His heart in his throat, Steve leans in and presses a kiss to Eddie's cheek before standing, and he again finds himself caught in Eddie's wide-eyed surprise.

"Steve-"

"C'mon, crow boy. We've got a movie to watch."

[mopopshop]

could you do a emily x reader where emily proposes???

Forever Starts Tonight

i love a good fluffy fic omg

also i made an oc for this one just because i really dislike using “y/n” in my writing sorry fam🙏🏾

and i included a few links in there just for visualization 🤞🏾😖

“We should go out tonight,” 

You and Emily had just gotten back from a nice couples outing, she’d basically been spoiling you the whole day since you’d just finished exams the day before.  Domestic breakfast in bed, morning sex (🤭), shopping trip where she convinced you to buy a few new dresses, lunch, even taking you to get your nails done, and now finally arriving back home. 

“You can even wear one of those new dresses you bought today” she pointed out.

“I don’t know, Em… I’m kinda tired and I just feel like bad that you’re spending all this money on me” you chuckle but you really do mean what you’re saying.

She grabs your hands from where she’s laying next to you on the bed and starts kissing your knuckles “No, baby don’t feel bad I’ve been planning on spoiling you for all this hard work you’ve done. Todays all about you ‘mkay? Just one little dinner, you and me and then we can retire and hibernate in this apartment for as long as you want” 

You laugh, nodding then ducking your head down for a brief kiss.

“Plus I already made the reservation so…” she whispers against your lips.

That’s when you burst out laughing, smacking her shoulder teasingly “Can we at least take a quick nap before we go? I meant when I said I’m tired as hell, what times the reservation?”

“Uhh,” she goes to check her phone “8:00, so yeah we can nap”

You smile in relief, knowing a nap is exactly what you need after this morning. Emily wraps her arms around you, pulling you close.

"Thanks, Em," you mumble into her shoulder, already feeling your eyelids grow heavy.

"Of course, babe " She strokes your hair gently, her touch soothing and familiar.

You drift off quickly, the comfort of her embrace lulling you into a deep sleep.

When you wake up, the room is dimly lit by the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the curtains. Emily is already up, quietly moving around the room. She notices you stirring and smiles warmly.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she says softly. "How was your nap?"

"Much needed," you reply, stretching lazily. "What time is it?"

"A little after seven. We should start getting ready soon."

You nod, feeling more refreshed. Emily helps you up, and you both head to the closet to pick out your outfits. You decide on one of the new dresses she convinced you to buy earlier. It's a backless silky blue dress, complementing your eyes perfectly.

Emily opts for a darker blue suit and accessorizes it with silver jewelry. Emily finishes getting ready first and stands behind you as you put the final touches on your makeup. She watches you in the mirror, her eyes full of affection.

"You look fucking gorgeous," she says, almost out of breath.

"Thanks, Em," you reply, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Not lookin to bad yourself”

She grins “You already know, don’t sleep on my fits baby”

You break into laughter as you’re putting your earrings on, turning around to shove her playfully “Shut up” you smile.

Once the both of you are ready Emily takes your hand, leading you out of the apartment. The restaurant is a short drive away, and you arrive just in time for your reservation.

The place is beautiful, with an intimate ambiance and soft, romantic lighting. You feel a flutter of nerves as you're seated at a cozy table for two. It’s pretty private and away from the rest of the guests as it looks over a gorgeous skyline, the sun painting a beautiful picture of purples and oranges. 

Emily seems calm and composed, but there's a glint in her eye that you can't quite decipher. Dinner is wonderful, filled with delicious food and easy conversation. Emily is more attentive than usual, her gaze lingering on you with an intensity that makes your heart race but you brush it off continuing with your conversation.

“Ugh that sunset is so pretty” you pout 

Emily immediately jumps at the opportunity “Lemme take a few pictures for you baby”

You smile, clapping your hands excitedly and stand up. She takes a few of you smiling at the camera, then a few of you looking off in the distance.

“Let’s take a few of you turned around”

You nod and turn, doing a few poses, looking in a few directions before realizing that you’ve been standing for too long. 

“Em? You don-“ you turn back to see Emily down on one knee, the sight alone makes your knees weak as you slap your hand over your mouth gasping. You start crying on the spot and Emily chuckles slightly at your reaction. 

“Can you take my hand, baby?” she asks gently and you nod wordlessly.

“You, from the very first moment I laid eyes on you, changed my life in ways I never imagined possible. Your strength, your kindness, and your unwavering support have been my anchor, my inspiration, and my greatest joy. Every single day with you has been a gift, and I find myself falling more in love with you, over and over again.

“You’re it for me baby, there’s not a single person on this planet who can make me feel the way you do and It's not just about the big moments like today, but the little ones – the quiet mornings, the shared laughs, the way you look at me and every worry I’ve had just washes away. It's all those moments that make me certain of what I want for our future.

"I've been dreaming about this moment for so long, and I’m trying my hardest not to fuck it up” You laugh at this through your tears “You are my best friend, my confidant, my everything. I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you've made me.”

She reaches into her pocket, fishing out a heart shaped velvet box. Opening it to reveal a gorgeous ring, an emerald-cut diamond on a gold band, accented with small clusters of diamonds on either side.

“Mariah Ruth Dawson, will you do me the honor of making me the happiest woman on earth and marry me?” 

By now the guests who’re seated further away  have spotted this interaction and now all eyes are on you and Emily. 

Tears stream down your face as Emily’s words sink in, each one filling your heart with overwhelming joy and love. You nod, your voice catching in your throat.

"Yes," you whisper, then louder, "Yes, yes, yes, oh my god, yes I’ll marry you”

She slips the ring on and you and Emily share a tender embrace, her arms wrapped around your waist while your find themselves looped around her neck. Suddenly you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you're met with a sight that takes your breath away. Standing before you are your parents and older sister.

At this you burst into ugly tears as you realize what Emily has done. She flew out your family to witness this special moment, knowing how much their presence would mean to you.

“You flew out my family?” you ask, your lip wobbling.

“Yeah, baby” she grins, trying to wipe the onslaught of tears that fall.

“Thank you” you whisper before rushing into the arms of your family, embracing each of them tightly as they congratulate you on your engagement. Emily stands back, a smile of satisfaction and happiness gracing her features as she watches the scene unfold.

After, your parents and sister hug Emily and exchange sweet words then they walk off to the side to give you and Emily a few moments alone.

“Fuck, my makeup’s everywhere” you say as a watery chuckle escapes your lips, dabbing at your eyes with a napkin.

Emily smiles “Still lookin beautiful as ever”

You roll your eyes and look away, giggling “Cornball, whatever” 

She pulls your waist so your chest to chest, you look up at her and wrap your arms around her neck once again.

“You happy?” she murmurs 

“Very” you smile back 

She giggles “I love you, Fiancée”

“I love you more, Fiancée” 

———

I really enjoyed making this one so i hope u guys feel the same lmk!! 🫶🏾

[t1red-twilight]

nighttime routines

summary: you and spencer get read for bed

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, mention of injury, reader has hair long enough to be tucked behind ears

word count: 1k

masterlist

hotch had banned you from work after you had sustained an injury in the field. the team had been out of town on a case, and you had been left at your’s and spencer’s apartment alone for the past four or so days.

presently, you were lying on the couch and watching reruns of the office. your injury, was pretty much healed, and you were planning on going back to work the coming monday.

spencer was going to be home any minute; he texted you as soon as the jet had landed.

just as the episode ended, you heard spencer unlock the door and come inside. you heard him huff out a sigh before speaking. “hi, honey. i’m home.” you could hear the smile in his tone as he said the cliche phrase.

you bolted up from the couch and all but sprinted to the entryway. “how was the case?”

he took off his overcoat and set aside his belongings. “eh, it was alright. nothing out of the ordinary. how’s your shoulder? is it still hurting?”

now that his hands were free, you dove into his arms for a hug. he tucked his head into your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you. “no. it didn’t hurt at all today.”

he let out a sound of disbelief.

“no, i mean it. there’s not any swelling or anything.”

his voice lowered to the quiet raspy tonality that you went crazy for. “okay, i believe you.”

the two of you stayed in the entryway for longer than a few moments. you sat and listened to him breathe. he began rocking the two of you back and forth. “you wanna go to bed?” he asked you.

you hummed an “mhm” in affirmation.

he let go of you and loosened his tie. the way his hands looked was delectable. he caught you staring and raised an eyebrow coyly.

your cheeks turned red in embarrassment. you looked away and walked to the bedroom; he followed you.

ever the gentleman, he turned away as you changed into your pajamas. he had picked a pair of red plaid pants and old fbi academy t-shirt. you were wearing some random doctor who t-shirt (one of spencers that you had claimed) and your most comfortable pair of pajama pants that were very worn out.

while the two of you were brushing your teeth, he scooted as close as he possibly could to you. your eyes met in the bathroom mirror and you smiled at him.

your skincare came next. he sat on the edge of the bath behind you. as you followed the steps of your routine, he chattered along with you. “why do you do the toner before the moisturizer again?” he inquired.

“because the toner is a lower viscosity,” you gently rubbed in your moisturizer.

“ah, makes sense.” you could tell from the look on his face that he did not, in fact, understand. you figured that he would research it later and inform you about it tomorrow.

you washed your hands and turned around, and walked over to him. stepping in between his legs, you looked down at him. he placed his hands on the backs of your thighs and traced his fingers over them.

his puppy dog eyes were entrancing. “ready for bed, angel?”

“yeah. laying on the couch all day was really tiring,” you replied, smiling down at him.

he stood up and settled his hand on the small of your back and guided you to the bed. once in bed, you pulled the covers up to your chin. he tilted his head to the side and snickered at you.

you grinned at him. you kept eye contact as he crawled his way up and flopped himself on top of you, his full body weight settled.

“you’ll get cold if you lay like that all night, spence,” you chuckled.

his voice was muffled by the covers. “hmm, actually, you are quite the little space heater, my love.”

“really? is that a bad thing?” you craned your neck to look down at him.

“no. I get really cold hands and you counteract that perfectly.” he moved his face from being smushed to look up at you. he then rolled off of you and tucked himself into the sheets.

almost instantaneously, you scampered through the sheets and right into his side.

he turned onto his side so that he could swaddle you entirely in his arms. he planted his chin on top of your head.

you inhaled his comforting scent. “i missed you.”

his voice had a raspiness to it that was only present when he was very tired or when he was waking up. “i missed you too. the case would have been solved quicker if you were there.”

“i don’t know about that, darling.” you were falling asleep very quickly.

“no, you’re a very valuable member of the team. you are very observant and catch onto patterns that the rest of us are slow to realize. also, i work better when you’re around me.” his fingers returned to tracing the patterns on your back that he was tracing on your thighs earlier.

he gently lodged his leg between yours. you nudged at his throat with your nose. “well, i’m glad to hear it. i don’t want to be out of a job right after getting shot.”

he kissed your forehead. “are you sure that your shoulder feels okay? completely, i mean. i don’t think that you should even do office work when incapacitated.”

“i wouldn’t lie to you about something like this, pretty boy.” he chuckled at the nickname, stolen from morgan. “i promise, i’m okay.” your voice was softening, sleep was sneaking up on you quicker and quicker.

“okay good. did anything happen while i was gone?” you felt his breath against your hair.

“i had to kill a spider in the kitchen yesterday. all by myself, mind you.”

he huffed out a little laugh. “oh god, that’s horrible,” he teased. “i’ll save you from the next one.”

[ericshoney]

Mini Matt ~ Sturniolo Triplets

You and the Sturniolo's had been close even before you were born. Your father was close with Jimmy and when the triplets were born, two years before you, your father and Jimmy still stayed friends, resulting in you having three protective friends who were practically brothers.

As you grew up with the triplets, many people noticed yours and Matt's personalities were very similar, resulting in you gaining the nickname, Mini Matt.

You lived with the triplets in LA, your father letting you move out after you finished school. You had a good following on TikTok as well.

At the moment, you were just chilling on the sofa, scrolling through your phone, waiting on the boys to get ready as you planned a day out. Nick was first to come down, greeting you cheerfully.

"Hey bub!" He exclaimed, joining you on the sofa.

"Hi Nick." You replied casually.

"Anywhere in particular you want to go today?" He asked.

"Not really." You answered.

Nick nodded and soon you were joined by Matt and Chris. The four of you made your way to the car and within the first few minutes of driving, Chris and Nick were arguing about where to go. You looked at Matt, who looked back at you through the mirror, both of you rolling your eyes at the two.

"Will you two shut the fuck up." You said, interrupting them both.

"Yeah it's getting annoying, we've only been in the car for a few minutes." Matt added.

"Alright moody duo." Chris mumbled, as he looked out the window. Nick rolled his eyes as the car fell into a comfortable silence, music playing softly.

After some more quiet driving, you four soon arrived at the mall, finally settling on a destination. When you got out, you walked alongside Matt, both Nick and Chris rushing ahead.

"Let's get food!" Chris exclaimed, as you and Matt reached him and Nick.

"I agree, we missed breakfast." Nick said.

"Ha! You agree with me!" Chris shouted, sticking his tongue out at Nick. Both you and Matt shook your heads.

When you found a place you all wanted to eat, Nick ordered for you all as you found a table to sit at.

"You two aren't very chatty today." Nick mentioned as you all sat to eat.

"Nothing much to say." You said.

"Hard when you two are screaming like fucking monkeys." Matt said.

The two just laughed as you ate. What else made them laugh was the two of you were eating and drinking the exact same thing. Not only was your personality similar to Matt's, so was your eating habits.

"How can you prefer that over Pepsi?" Chris questioned, pointing to your root beer.

"Just do." You answered shortly.

"Alright Mini Matt." He said.

You rolled your eyes but secretly loved the nickname. It made you feel included by the triplets.

"Just cause I prefer root beer over Pepsi and don't say muc-" You began to say but got interrupted by Chris.

"Oh Mini Mattitude!" He shouted, making Nick laugh.

"What?" Matt questioned.

"She has Mini Mattitude!" Chris repeated.

"You have Mattitude and she's a mini version of you." Nick explained, making Matt nod slowly as he looked at you.

"Fucking buffoon." You grumbled, sipping your root beer, making the trio all laugh, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

[swordsandholly]

On the Mend

Ao3 | Chapter One | Next

Captain John Price x fem!plus size!reader

Word Count: 4.1k

MDNI | cw: referenced cheating, divorce, implied alcoholism, age gap, blood/minor injury

Summary: Following his divorce, John Price is adrift - strong armed into going on leave, he decides to use the time to renovate a run down family lake house. He finds himself drawn into an unexpected bond with his peculiar new neighbor who seems equally unable to leave him alone.

When John came home to papers and a set of silver rings on the kitchen counter he didn’t feel surprised. No sense of despair at the lack of shoes by the door or empty closet. No betrayal at the slight layer of dust covering the flat. A layer that had accumulated over the course of coming home two weeks later than planned. Just a a wave of numbness. That sick sort of relief when the bad thing you knew would happen finally does. Something that twists in his gut and hollows out his bones. He knew it was coming sooner or later.

Looks like sooner.

It started in the early fall - though, if he’s honest, he should have seen it coming long before then. Nearly a year of cold shoulders and whispers over the phone spoken in the other room during late hours. Passive nudges and snide comments. Nights spent alone more than together. New clothes and lingerie that he only spotted in passing on laundry day. All his time in the SAS and he didn’t see what was right under his nose. Five simple words that spelled out the end.

“I found someone else, John.”

That’s it. The grand finale to thirteen years.

Of course it’s never simple. What followed was weeks of arguing between - and during - his deployments. Months of lawyers sending information and communications back and forth because face to face talks were no longer getting them anywhere. It’s difficult to process so many years falling apart in such little time. It’s harder still to get over the hurled insults and accusations of stolen youth. The insinuation that he ruined her. The allegation that he never loved her in the first place. That this has been broken for a long, long time, John. How do you not see that?

How didn’t he see it?

At the end of the day, John is good at two things: compartmentalizing and work. It’s just convenient that those two qualities happen to go hand in hand right now. John lives on base full time - got out of that flat as soon as the lease ran out. It’s a waste of money sitting empty for most of the year. More often than that, really, considering he spends every waking moment - when not deployed - in his office or running drills. Never mind the fact that he couldn’t step past the threshold without feeling something shatter in his chest.

Now, six months since the final signatures, the walls John carefully built around the issue have started to wear. Coming loose at the seams - all crumbling brick and thinning mortar. He’s agitated. Frayed at the edges. You wouldn’t know it to look at him. John’s uniform remains crisp as always. His belongings placed in exact order - including the ever growing collection of liquor. His hair is perfectly kept. At a glance, he’s the same as always.

It’s those closest to him that can see it. That take the brunt of it.

Harsh, barking orders at Ghost that would have previously been calm instruction. Sharp reprimands that leave Soap jumpy and flinching. Both give him a wide berth when they can. His drills for the newer recruits became far more difficult with tougher punishments for any sort of acting out. Gaz has avoided his growing wrath for the most part - good at keeping his head down and following orders as needed.

Until today, it seems. An accidental, near deadly failure. The perfect boiling point.

While clearing a building currently housing a potential terrorist cell, one man managed to slip past Gaz. All of them, really, but it was his floor to clear. The man got a shot off on Soap after the Scot tackled him - luckily his vest stopped it. Ghost dropped the adversary and Soap won’t have more than a bruised rib and a couple weeks of rest but it could have been worse. Much, much worse.

Gaz knew he was fucked when the Captain went silent. John barely looked him in the eye and didn’t say anything more than necessary on their way back to base. A single grunt of “my office” and the sergeant’s fate became sealed.

“Sir.” Gaz prays that the quaver he feels in his voice doesn’t come through. He’s never been here before, standing stiffly across from the Captain. Not like this at least - waiting for the hand he’s about to be dealt.

“Donnae worry tae much, lad.” Soap had given him a rough slap on the back. “Price’s all bark an’ no bite.”

Right now standing across from The Captain, all he can see is a bite risk.

“You know why I’ve called you in, Sergeant.” It isn’t a question.

“Yes, sir.” Gaz shifts ever so slightly. “I wasn’t successful in clearing my floor-“

“And nearly compromised a teammate because of your carelessness.” John crosses his arms, a snarl in his tone. His nerves are fried - every bit of frustration and hurt that’s been pushed down and allowed to fester over the last several months bubbling up to the surface.

John can’t lose anyone else.

By the time he’s done with his verbal lashing Gaz looks like he wants to run for the hills and never come back. As good as the boy is at masking his reaction externally, just as any military man does, his eyes never hide anything. There’s a sheen over them that has John pausing, stepping it back and sighing heavily. He never raises his voice - doesn’t find it useful long term - but he has a skill for putting together strings of words that stab right to the heart. Gaz is an empathetic kid - a trait easily exploited to pour gallons of guilt on the sergeant.

“Don’t let it happen again.” John mutters, the fire gone. Doused out by the kicked puppy look Gaz wears. An itch of regret stings the back of his mind. “Dismissed.”

Based on the rhythm of footsteps the moment the office door closes behind Gaz, it really does sound like he’s running for the hills. John wouldn’t blame him. He doesn’t want to be around himself either.

John practically collapses into his office chair, finally letting his muscles relax. As much as they are physically capable of relaxing. These days his shoulders are always around his ears - hackles raised and hands flexing. He buries himself in the incident report - pouring hours into filling out bureaucratic red tape that he used to avoid at every turn.

The sun has set when a quiet but firm tap tap tap sounds at his door.

“Come in.” He grunts, knowing exactly who is about to walk through that door based entirely on the perfunctory knock.

“John.” Kate steps in, carefully shutting the door behind her before stepping forward.

“Kate.” He straightens in his seat.

“We need to talk.”

“I’ll apologize to Garrick tomorrow.” John waves her off, turning back to the files on his desk in a last ditch effort to make her leave. It’s a foolish attempt.

“You know that’s not what I’m going to say.” She crosses her arms.

“Do I?”

Kate stands over him, staring him down. It’s a position they find themselves in fairly often whether face to face or communicating from hundreds of miles away. There’s a new weight to it here. A far more personal tension than either are used to.

Kate pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m coming to you as a friend - not a coworker. You need to take some time.”

The last thing John needs is to ‘take some time.’ He just needs to focus. Get into the new swing of things. He hit the ground running now all he needs is to find his stride.

“I’m fine.” John snaps.

“You’re not.” She fires back. “It’s normal that you’re not but you need to deal with it.”

“I have dealt with it. It’s been dealt with for six months.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

John sighs heavily and scrubs a hand over his face. He has plenty of leave, really. About three months worth that haven’t been used. Months he was saving for a long vacation that won’t happen now. Ninety days that are wasting away on his employee profile - a fake number. It’s all bullshit anyway, right? The only thing that’s truly real is what he can accomplish here. Helping people and saving the world here. What good is he rotting at home for nine months?

He’s needed here.

John needs to be needed.

“John.” Kate sighs. Her voice is low - that of a disappointed mother. “Either you take your leave, or I get you sent on a mandatory mental health leave. I already have the paperwork drafted. You need to step away.”

The captain lets out another heavy sigh. Laswell has obviously made up her mind. There’s no changing it once she has the steel like gleam in her eyes.

“Fine. Give me a week to get things sorted.”

John doesn’t miss the slight quirk in the corner of Kate’s mouth. “Thank you.”

As usual, by the time he makes it back to his flat he’s completely worn through. Body and mind equally exhausted - just what he wants. John falls into his routine of pouring a glass of whatever he’s in the mood for, tonight it’s bourbon, apparently, and plopping onto the couch. Normally he’d turn on the television or grab a book or some other shite but all he can manage right now is a staring contest with the wall.

The hell is he supposed to do for three months? He can’t hang around here, that’s too pathetic. It’ll drive him mad. Could visit his mum, but she’s got a life of her own in that retirement community of hers. He wouldn’t want to disturb her peace for more than a week or two. That still leaves at least seventy-six days unaccounted for.

Somewhere during his wall-watching, he thinks it’s while taking in a particularly interesting mistake in the paint, an idea finally comes to him. A flimsy, probably stupid idea. John grabs his cell. It only rings once.

“Hey, mum.” John leans back on the shitty couch of his on base apartment. It’s minimal, but he doesn’t need much anymore, does he?

“Jack, love, how are you?” She says brightly. Always full of sunshine and excitement to hear from her only child.

“Fine.” He lies. As much as he hates lying to his mother and the acetic taste it leaves in his mouth, he just can’t handle her worry at the moment. John doesn’t need another reason to cry right now. “How are you?”

“Oh, lovely!” She replies. “I have the ladies knitting circle tomorrow - apparently there’s new developments about Harold and Linda.”

“Oh? What sort of developments?”

“The salacious sort.” She snickers.

John huffs out a laugh. The old gossip. “Mum, I was wonderin’… do we still have that old family home? By the lake?”

She hums, thinking for a moment. “Oh, yeah, we do. Though, technically it belongs to your Aunt Claudia - the old hag - love her dearly. It’s run down. No one’s been there in years.”

“Alright. Good.”

“Why do you ask?”

John sees no way out of giving into her prying just a bit. “I need a project.”

“A project?”

“I’ve been given some leave. Need something to pass the time.”

A short lapse of silence. “Jack?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

He sighs heavily, swirling the glass in his other hand absently. The breath comes out shaky and there’s a stinging in the corners of his eyes. “I’m really fine, ma.”

“I wish you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Wish you wouldn’t call me on it.” He chuckles bitterly.

“You’re my son, of course I’m going to call you on it.” She scoffs.

“I’ll…” John sighs. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will. You should talk about it, though. If not to me then to some friends.“

What friends? He wants to snap back. His ex-wife took all their mutual friends with her. The men on base aren’t his friends - can’t be with how he’s been treating them these past few months. There’s no fixing that. They’ll never trust him the same again.

Of course, he won’t tell her that. “I will, mum. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Goodnight.”

“Night.” The silence of the flat feels deafening as soon as the call ends. A reminder of all the things he isn’t - all the things he failed at. Nearly fourty years and nothing to show for it outside of his career. No one else is around to hear the poorly bitten back sobs and shaky gasps that echo through the bedroom until sleep finally overtakes him.

~~~

The home seems about as bad John assumed it to look when he pulls up. Bare patches where shingles have long fallen off spot the roof. The front porch has several posts missing from the railing and a few cracked boards. The steps creak worryingly under his boots but seem solid enough for now. John takes his time working through each room, just as he would on the job. Taking stock of damaged hinges and rusted pipes. At least the water runs and electric seems to be undamaged. Livable conditions even if it all needs a proper dusting and washing.

The interior is just as he remembers right down to the furniture. All family heirlooms with only a few updated pieces scattered throughout. Wicker chairs and heavy wood bed frames. The only truly new addition is the thick layer of dust and grime covering it all. If John were more poetic he may have something to say about that, but as it stands he is not and does not.

As he makes his way to the back, he comes across the majority of the damages to the property. The dock is missing a series of boards all the way down. The back porch has visibly rotting wood and most of the railing seems long gone. Weather battered and use torn. More shingles are missing from this side of the roof. The entire exterior needs a new paint job. Fixable enough with the right materials and some elbow grease. The perfect amount of work to fill the next ninety days.

As he makes his way through the overgrown back yard to look at the dock in more detail, movement catches his eye. A girl walking in the backyard of the house next door - a red, square little cabin that couldn’t house anything above two bedrooms at most. She stomps her way down the slight incline to the lake - carefully carrying a massive easel and canvas under one arm and a rectangular bag of what he assumes are art supplies under the other.

John isn’t sure what compels him to watch her. Maybe it’s the soft curve of her hips or the determined scrunch of her face - either way it takes longer than it should for him to tear his eyes away and head back into the lake house.

It’s easy enough to spend this first day busying himself with cleaning up the accumulated dirt. John ties a handkerchief over his face - more of a formality than a real barrier to keep from breathing too much in. He shouldn’t care. The man sucks down enough cigar smoke that even this dense sort of dust wouldn’t be more than a tickle. He sweeps and mops and throws some bedsheets in the wash. At least enough to last him until he can take the quilts outside and beat them properly.

Even as he climbs into the old but solid master bed he has lists running through his mind. Lists are good. Lists are a distraction. Sort of like counting sheep but more productive.

Needs a new hammer, nails, several lengths of screws. He’ll have to take into account the type of wood needed - might have to order the railing. The small town probably doesn’t have any that would match in person…

~~~

Even without an alarm John wakes at five am on the dot. After so many years of military life he has no hope of becoming a late sleeper. Even on lazy Sunday mornings, he’d wake first, stay in bed and wait for his ex-wife to wake. Often he would try to surprise her with breakfast…

John clears his throat and focuses on dressing for the day. Some old work jeans and a sturdy, standard issue t-shirt. He spends the morning finalizing his list, categorizing what he can most likely get in person and what will need to be ordered. He decides to get a calendar to plan out the repairs over the next three months, starting with the interior and working his way out. Methodical. Controlled. Just like he prefers.

Luckily the hardware store has more than he thought it would. Between the tools already in the lake house’s small garage and the few he needs to pick up, he should be well stocked for at least the first round of projects.

“New to town?” The older woman at the counter asks politely with minimal interest.

“Sort of. Fixin’ up a family home.” John grunts, dropping cash onto the counter.

“Ah.” She nods. “That’s good. So many places around here have been rotting away or getting bought up by vacation companies.”

John just hums in response. He doesn’t have much of an opinion on that. It’s not really his business what other people do. He shoves his change into the small tip jar on the counter and drags his supplies out to his truck.

He drives back in silence, opting to focus entirely on the empty country road. He hasn’t liked music much these days. John frowns as a figure making its way up the side of the road more into focus. The same girl from yesterday, the neighbor, pushes her bike along the side of the road. She’s limping slightly as she walks. Her legs and arms have a solid layer of dirt covering them. The front and back baskets of her bike are stuffed full of reusable grocery bags. She looks downright pissed as soon as he catches her face.

John slows when his truck finally catches up with her, rolling down the window. “You alright?”

“Fine!” You call back, obviously out of breath with a frustrated pinch to your face. You keep your eyes solidly forward. John glances down at your freshly skinned knees, wincing to himself.

“Y’don’t seem fine.”

“I am!” You turn up your nose, speeding up your walk ever so slightly. American. Interesting.

John lightly toes the gas to keep up. “Your knees look pretty banged up. I can give you a ride.”

You stop dead in your tracks. John barely has to touch the break to stop with you. There’s a fire in your eyes when you whirl on him - one that reminds him all too much of Soap when he gets the itch to blow something up. He takes you in piece by piece. He isn’t quite able to gauge how old you are. Younger than him, he thinks. Your face is soft despite the hard expression, body a graceful, continuously curved line. He snaps his eyes back to your face before you can catch him staring.

You raise your hand to point at him and then the little canister hanging from the carabiner hooked to your shorts. “I’m not going anywhere with you, old man! Try to make me and I’ll mace you.”

John blinks. Old man? He supposes it makes sense. To you he’s just a creepy guy trying to coax you into his beat up truck. “I, uh, saw you yesterday. Wait, wait! I’m fixing up the house next door. The blue one.”

That makes you pause your march again, turning to look at him slowly. You squint, eyes raking over the truck, the materials in the bed, and flicking around his face. A slow look of recognition dawns across your expression, the pinch of your lips changing into a gentle part.

“Oh. Yeah. I saw your truck.” There’s still a wariness in your tone, a shifting in your stance. Smart girl. He wonders if you can sense it. The things he’s done, the kind of man that he is. Does it roll off him in waves like he thinks? Would it surprise you?

“It’s still another five miles back. There’s room in the bed for your bike. Can’t be fun walking around all bruised up like that.” John nods to your knees again.

Your lip catches between your teeth, a sigh of defeat relaxes your shoulders. “Okay. I’ll still mace the fuck out of you if you get weird on me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” John chuckles.

You huff and load up your bike into the back of his truck. You’re stronger than he expected, throwing the bike and groceries around like they weigh almost nothing to you. The midday sun gives you a healthy glow despite the cuts a scrapes from your earlier fall.

“There’s a first aid kit in the glove box.” John says as you load up into the cab with him.

“Thanks.” You reach for it immediately, grabbing some disinfectant wipes and a few large bandaids. They’re still bleeding pretty badly - dripping down your dirt covered shins.

“What happened, anyway?” He asks as he starts down the old dirt road once again.

You hiss at the sting of the wipes. “My - ah fuck - bike chain snapped. Threw me off.”

“Y’don’t carry a back up?”

“Usually, but that’s the one that just broke. Piece of shit. Hadn’t gotten around to replacing it yet…” You keep your eyes down and pick at your confetti nail polish, obviously embarrassed.

John hums. “I might have one laying around the house. If not I can drive you to town to look for one.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that!”

“It’s no problem.” He chuckles. “If you don’t mind an old man driving you around, that is.”

“Y’know, on a closer inspection you’re not that old.” You grin. “Just the old-timey beard.”

“I’ve been told it’s distinguished.”

“That just means old.” You snicker.

A comfortable silence lapses between you - the only sound being that of the truck puttering down the dirt road. There’s a prickle on John’s skin and he glances over only to see your eyes dragging across his arm holding the steering wheel. You think you’re subtle, he’s sure, with the way you keep your face mostly forward and only look out of the corner of your eye. It’s hard to fool a SAS officer.

Who’s the creep now? John smiles and bites the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting it out.

You turn away to watch out the window as he pulls up just between your houses. A two hour walk reduced to all of ten minutes. “Glad to see that house finally getting fixed up. It’s depressing watching it decompose - even if it is kind of cool.”

John nods. “My family is small. Hasn’t seen a lot of use since my cousins and I were kids.”

“Just you?” You tilt your head, staring up at him with big doe eyes. “No wife or kids?”

“No.” He grunts, wincing internally at the harshness of it.

You don’t seem phased. If anything your smile gets just a hair wider. “Well, thanks for the ride. Glad you’re not a kidnapper.”

“Anytime.” He snorts, climbing out of the truck after you. “I’m John, by the way. John Price.”

“Oh! Didn’t even think to introduce myself.” You laugh and hold your hand as you give your name. It’s so much softer and smaller than his. He almost doesn’t want to let go.

Christ, is he really that fucking touch starved?

John clears his throat and sets his hands on his hips. “Need help carrying that in?”

“I can manage.” You look him over again. John can’t help but wonder what you see. Whatever it is, you smile and wave politely before disappearing into your cabin.

He’s still thinking about that as he gets ready for bed, staring at himself in the mirror. All he sees are the bags under his eyes and scars littering his torso. The grey hairs beginning to salt his beard and hair. The rough callouses on his hands from rougher work. A tired, grizzled officer with only work to look forward to. What did you like enough to stare at? He’s strong, sure, but no more than the next guy that works out or does physical labor.

John downs the last of his drink for the night, brushes his teeth and falls into bed. For once, there’s a relative peace as he falls asleep to the sounds of nature outside. No sounds of base to keep him awake, no itching sense of duty. Just frogs and crickets.

A/N: I know I have other stuff to work on but the brain worms are wriggling thinking about sad, lonely John Price.

[li0nn3stuff]

Kiddo

Chapter six

Kiddo masterlist

English is not my first language, be kind.

Modern!Older!Aemond x Modern!Younger!Reader

•Chapter warnings: obsession, stalking, talking of bullying, fingering•

“Have you seen him?” The girl says excitedly to her friend, looking at the new year boy.

“Yes! What do you think happened to his eye?” She responded giggling.

“I don’t know, but whatever it was, if it left such a scar, it must have been really bad.”

“I kinda like the eyepatch though, it makes him sexy…” The girl smirked as she looked intently at the boy with silver hair passing by the hallway.

“Oh, he’s hot. I would totally fuck him.”  The girl smirked in return.

“I’d rather have him fuck me. I have a feeling that he is crazy good.”

Two months after the encounter.

Aemond smirked, looking at his phone, his girl had been texting a lot, since they’ve been friends.

Surely, it’s not how he would have liked to have her, but if nothing, Aemond was patient.

He had his own plan to get his girl only to himself.

On his side, he had his advantage.

She kept texting him about douchebags making fun of her at school.

Some, that he would have loved to rip apart with his bare hands.

Like the guy that was on a date with her, or the girls she was with the day he first saw her. They just wanted to humiliate her somehow. He reassured her with his own stories, advising her how to act on those occasions.

All lies.

He was the popular boy when he was young, despite what he feared as a child, when his scar was still fresh, his marked face brought him nothing but popularity and girls.

Boy’s feared him, the mix of his stoic face, scar, and powerful family apparently intimidated the others.

He lost his virginity pretty soon, and he never stopped fucking ever since, his last year in high school he even fucked in the teacher room, without getting caught.

He fucked a teacher once.

He was a fucking king in in school. He was the one humiliating others whenever he wanted to.

But she didn’t need to know that, did she?

He was only doing her a favor, offering er his comprehension, his help.

There was no way she could find that out anyway.

-I could come to visit you at work?-

He  smiled at the new text on his phone. God, she was just perfect. 

Aemond was her only friend, and that always made her so eager.

She texted him a lot, day and night, she asked to see him more than one time a day, and if he couldn’t, she then asked if she could facetime him, or at least call him.

He liked the calls, he had the freedom to be hard rock or even fisting his cock as she spoke. He rarely accepted video calls, but sometimes he took the risk, she was just so innocent, he could do everything anyway.

“There were a few tomatoes.” She smiles happily as she turn her phone to show him her little garden, bending down to get at the same level of the plant, making the cleavage her large chemise more evident, he caught a glimpse of her bra, holding those breasts he would want to squeeze in his hands, as he slipped his cock between–

“Can you see?” She asked excitedly. He cleared his throat and nodded, as he brushed his cock with his hand.

“Yes, I can see.” He answered. She smiled even more and stood back up. 

“Rory says he wants a salad with my tomatoes.” She says as she looks down to walk without stepping on any plant. Rory was one of her foster brothers, he was five, and greedy.

“Of course he does.” He answered as he carefully unbuttoned his pants, drawing down the fly. He sighed silently, when he didn’t have his breeches restrain his cock.

She chuckled at his remark, looking up at the phone, at him. He felt a rush of adrenaline, lust, going up his spine then straight to his cock, at her looking at him, oblivious of his actions.

“I could bring you some salad at work for lunch, if you want to.” She proposed.

“Mh… What are you wearing, you could get your clothes dirty in the garden.” He slipped his hand in his boxers, caressing directly his cock, letting out a small groan.

“Don’t worry, today I just came to check.” She raised her phone up her head, so her entire figure would be visible on the screen. She was wearing a big white men's button down shirt, and a long wavy white skirt. Her hair was loose and wavy due to the braids she kept during the night.

“So what do you say?” She asked again. Looking at him.

“Another time, kiddo. Tell me about your day.” He leaned back in his chair, his office door was locked, but it was early anyway, so he tugged his boxers down as she started speaking.

-You want so much to see me at work?-

He texted back, smirking to himself. He would have loved to show her around, his pretty girl, have her watching him while he works.

Smell her scent in his office, her real scent, not that vanilla shit he bought.

-You say you work in a high lever of one of the skyscapes, I want to see it! :) -

She texted quickly back, and he chuckled, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment. Did she light the height? He could have brought her to the heavens, if she would just ask him.

-You’re supposed to be at school, kiddo, why are you texting me?-

-Texting you is funnier.-

He groaned as he saw her text, putting aside his phone, and trying to force himself to ignore the urge to go to her school, find her class and fuck her on her table with the whole class looking at them.

He could picture it so well.

How she would ask him to go somewhere else because she’s shy about her body, and mostly because she doesn’t want to be seen or heard.

She would beg him so sweetly, looking at him with her eyes, glossy from tears. And how could he have stopped at such a sight? 

-So? Can I come visit you?- 

His phone turned on at her text. He looked at it for a while, then he decided to finally text it to her.

-My place is at a higher level. You want to come there?-

He could feel his heart in his throat as he stared at his phone screen. When she started typing, he felt like fainting.

-Deal, time?-

He wanted to jump from his chair and scream. He had her.

He was going to have her in his apartment.

He chuckled, thinking of how he could turn this story into some kind of Raperonzolo’s story, lock her in his apartment, maybe even tied to his bed.

So he could worship her naked body from the moment he came home, untill he left, first with his tongue, then his fingers, and then he would finally fuck her to madness.

He honestly didn’t know why she trusted him.

He was only getting worse since he met her. 

He stalked her less, that is true, but only because she gave updates to him herself. 

To be fair, he kept stalking her the first few days, but only to be completely sure his girl would never lie to him.

And she never did.

Because she was his perfect good girl.

He was trying really hard to wash the smirk away from his face as he drove to her school. He just couldn’t. 

He was going to have her in his apartment, just him and her. 

He risked a hard on every time he thought about it, his mind playing infinite scenarios of how he could take her, trick her, use her, and she wouldn’t even realize it, she would think it’s completely normal.

He had to take lots of deep breaths, in order to contain all those freaky, but tempting thoughts.

He will be kind, gentle.

Just for her, he could do it.

Well, he could try.

He hoped.

He parked close to her high school and texted her that he was waiting for her describing his location so it would have been easier for her to find him.

He saw her approaching him a few minutes later, and he leaned to open the passenger door for her.

As much as he would have liked to get out of his car, greet her with a small kiss on her head perhaps, he couldn’t risk it. 

His… unusual appearance always made him pretty noticeable, he wouldn’t want anyone to remember him, nor recognise him.

She quickly slipped inside his car and sat on the passenger seat. Smiling softly at him.

“Ehy.” She said, looking briefly at him. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused by her eyes, that had a hint of sadness in them.

“What happened, kiddo?” He asked, feeling a hint of rage burning in his chest at the idea that she had probably been bullied again. She shook her head as she put on her belt.

“Can I tell you later? I– I just want to go away from here…” She mumbled, her cheeks already getting red from embarrassment. He hesitated a moment, looking at her, unsure if to insist or just drive off.

He sighed and looked away, turning on the engine and driving off.

“I… suppose your day at school was not easy.” He muttered, glancing at her. She was staring outside the window, enjoying her view.

“No, actually not, it wasn’t.” She said softly.

“Tell me what happened.” He didn’t want it to sound so much like a harsh order, but apparently, he just couldn’t help it.

“It just feels strange to tell you in person now…” She tried to switch the main subject. “I’m so used to telling it to you by phone or call, it seems almost… strange in an intimidating way to tell you now in person. “ She explained. Aemond sighed as he nodded, trying to be comprehensive, even if he just wanted her to just tell him what happened. He drove off a bit faster, trying to get home as quickly as he could.

She was wearing one of her usual skirts, white, long to her ankles, and a thigh white shirt, but with a black cardigan over it, some black boots at her feet.

He wanted to put his hand on her thigh, squeeze it, and feel the softness on her skin.

“What do you want for dinner?” He asked then, his eye constantly on the road, he won’t force her to talk now, he will do it in his apartment, when she’ll be more comfortable.

“Whatever you’ll like will be fine.” She smiled softly at him.

“Would you rather order a take out?” He asked then, and he saw with the corner of his eye that she shook her head.

“Oh, no, why? We can cook for ourselves!” She said he could hear the excitement in her voice. “Oh, well, if you… I mean, we can go buy groceries if we need to, or–”

“No, it’s fine, I have everything.” He cut off short. 

“Then we can cook, we can make something basic, quick… I’m already hungry.” She smiled and chuckled. He nodded, his mind picturing them cooking.

Like a couple. 

She would be by his side, chopping some vegetables, he would pass behind her, tease her with some kisses on her neck, pressing her against the counter.

He would press his head against the back of hers, looking down as he pushed his hips against her, letting her feel how hard he was for her. She would whine sweetly, so innocently, as he would start grinding against her, his hands quickly wrapping around her, caressing her belly and going down to– 

“Even pasta is fine.” She said again, leading him out of his thoughts. He cleared his voice as he moved on his seat, adjusting his position, as he felt his cock twitch.

“Pasta it is.” He agreed. She smiled again and went back on looking outside her window, as they approached his building. He parked the car and led her inside to the elevator. He didn’t try to stay too close, nor wanted his doorman to suspect anything, especially, because it would be the first time he saw him get in his apartment with such a girl at such an early hour.

Thankfully, she was too engrossed with the luxurious hall to actually talk to him, so they could pass for almost strangers, but then he led her to the elevator.

“What floor are you on?” She asked curiously, looking at the amount of buttons in the elevator, hovering her finger over them.

“Twenty two.” He said, and let her push it for him.

“It must be quite a view!” She said surprised, turning to look at him. His lips curved in a somewhat smile, as he nodded.

“Yes, it is indeed.” She smiled softly and waited for the elevator doors to open, jumping up and down on her tiptoes, impatient.

Once they got there, they entered his apartment.

“Wow!” She immediately commented. 

His house was quite modern, most of the walls were wide windows that gave a sight of the city, an open space for his living room kitchen and dining room, his bed and bathroom separated by a hallway. His house was modern, luxurious and elegant.

“Do you live here?” She asked as she watched around, mesmerized by the place.

“I do.” He asked, pleased by her reaction. She stopped and looked at him.

“It’s lovely. shall we cook now?”

As they ate, he tried to make her feel as comfortable as he could in his own house. Small chats were not really his thing. Chatting wasn’t his thing, unless it was for business.

“What happened today at school, kiddo? You still haven’t told me.” He asked as they moved from the table to the couch.

“It’s embarrassing.” She admitted as she rubbed her arm and sat on the couch in front of him.

“You’re embarrassed of telling me?” He raised his eyebrow, looking at her. “You can tell me anything” He sat back comfortably against the arm of the couch. He looked at her as she looked down and started playing with her fingers.

“We had a different lesson today at school…” She starts, and he calmly looks at her, letting her take her time to tell him. “We– we had a lesson about sexual education, and–” She took a deep breath, as Aemond felt that hot feeling on his chest again, anger.”Some of my classmates looked at me, laughing quietly, I– I don’t know, exactly why… but…” She paused again, and kept playing with her fingers.

“But?” He asked, leaning forward.

“But I–I think I can guess why? I– I mea, I’m not… really uhm– I have never.. I’m not familiar with… touch.” He felt like chuckling, but he dared not, especially considering the color of his girl’s face at the moment, red as a tomato.

“Touch. Touch like…?” He asked, a bit confused. She quickly shook her head.

“No, I mean, I obviously get touched! I–” She sighed and shyly put her hand on her arm, trying to prove herself. 

“Sexual touch?” He asked then, staring at her hand on his arm. He heard her gasp, and he raised his gaze at her, seeing her so red, he thought she would pass out.

“... yes…” She answered, ashamed.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know, kiddo?” He looked at her and gently brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You just need the right man, when you’ll feel ready.”

“I can0t really trust someone now, can I? I– I mean, I would like to… try new things, kiss someone maybe, but… how, how can I find the right person? You’re the only one I trust!” She pressed her hand on her face, and he smiled briefly.

“If you trust me, I can… help you?” He suggested. He knew she would have never thought bad about what he just said, but he had a clear plan in his mind. She looked at him between her fingers, surprised.

“Help… me?” She repeated.Aemond nodded again.

“You said you trust me.” He stated, and she nodded again, taking her hand off her face. “Then trust me now. Come, kiddo.” He sat right on the couch, and widened his legs, indicating her to sit between them. She looked at him for a moment, trying to understand if he really expected her to do it or not, but seeing his seriousness, she slowly stood up, and moved with her back in front of him, looking behind her as she sat on the couch between his legs.

“You can tell me to stop whenever you want to, okay kiddo?” He murmured in her ear from behind. He saw on the back of her neck and shoulders her goosebumps. “Just know… I’m doing this for you.” He put his hand on her shoulders, caressing her softly, letting his fingers trace imaginary lines on her soft skin, enjoying the contact for himself. He went down to her forearms and arms, ending on her hands.

She turned her head to the side to see him, her mouth slightly parted.

“Answer me, kiddo, I need your words.” His voice hoarse, as he intertwined his fingers with hers.

“O–okay…” She nodded as she uncertainty leaned her head back against his shoulder.

“This fine for you?” He asked as he kept brushing her fingers up and down her arms. She nodded again, closing her eyes. He slowly moved his fingers from her hand to her thighs, just caressing her from over the skirt.

He heard her take a deep shaky breath.

“I’m gonna show you how a man should make you feel, kiddo, okay? If he doesn't, you'll leave them.” He ordered in her ear. She looked again at him, her eyebrows furrowed.

“You can trust me, kiddo, I’m just helping you, you know?” He slowly started raising her skirt. “I’m doing you a favor.” He kept repeating, as he lifted her skirt over her thighs, as she kept staring at him.

“Wh– what do you want to do? Aemond– I…” She started breathing heavily, squeezing her thighs together.

“It’s okay, kiddo, just close your eyes, you’ll feel good, I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” He brushed his lips against her ear, and he felt her shiver. He carefully wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her closer to his chest.

He looked down at her thighs, so soft and thick.

He brushed his hands over them, keeping his other arm secure around her waist.

“Relax, kiddo.” He whispered, as he slipped his hand between her thighs, finally.

He could feel his cock twitch in his breeches, begging for attention, touch. He groaned and ignored his urges, concentrating on her.

He slowly opened her legs, so that he could move his hand more freely, she didn’t resist him, she completely trusted him.

She shouldn’t be.

“Do you like this?” He asked as he looked at her face, her eyes closed. She pressed her lips together and nodded, her hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

“I’m going to make you understand why people like to touch each other, okay? Will you let me?” He asked as his fingers briefly brushed against her panties.

White cotton, like boxers for girls.

It was so different from all the other panties he had always seen, lace, lingerie, thong.

He always hated unsexy undergarments, yet, the sight of it only increased her sweet innocence, and turned him on even more.

He pressed his thumb against her clothed bud, making her jump back against him, he tightened his arm around her waist and kept her still.

“Shh, shh it’s okay, you like this, it’s okay.” He groaned as he kept pressing his thumb on her bud, slowly moving it from side to side.

“Aem– It’s strange, I– What…” She mumbled as her breathing only grew heavier.

“Calm down kiddo, enjoy it, you like it.” He kept repeating as he kept moving his thumb on her. She threw her head back on his shoulder again, letting out a strangled whine, her hand opening and grabbing his thigh, digging his fingers on his skin. He smirked as groaned softly.

“You like this, kiddo, just relax.” He moved his hand away, and he played a moment with the band of her panties, slowly moving his fingers beneath it, so she could have the time to stop him.

She didn’t, she didn’t, and there was no way he would have stopped now.

He was going to take what belonged to him.

He traced the line of her slit, as she squirmed a bit, whining.

“It’s okay, kiddo, I got you.” He pressed a kiss on her temple, as he moved his fingers again over her slit, feeling how his fingers were getting wet. He smirked again and kissed the top of her head. He pressed his thumb on her bud, as he kept working one of his fingers over her entrance, just teasing her, despite how much he wanted to slip it in, feeling how tight she was, her untouched walls struggling to accommodate one of his fingers.

“You're ready for more, kiddo? Do you want more, more pleasure?” He whispered in her ear. Ste turned her head and opened her eyes, looking at him with her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes shining due to the tears gathering in them, her breathing growing irregular and heavier.

“Aemond… this is strange…” She whimpers as she squirms again, trying to escape the pressure of his thumb on her pearl.

“You want me to stop?” He asked. “You like this, so why do you want me to stop, mh?” He slipped his finger inside, just half of it, and she moaned loudly, surprised, grabbing his arm with both of her hands, holding onto it for dear life, as she kicked her legs, but his arm wrapped around her waist kept her secure against him.

“Aemond– Oh–” She moaned again as he slowly started to move it in and out, not pushing his finger in completely.

“Lay back, enjoy kiddo.” He pushed her back against his chest, and she bent her head back further, her legs bending and opening wider by themselves.

“Aemond… please, it’s so strange–” She let out a choked moan, arching her back. He smiled at seeing her so out of control for a mere finger, his mind wandering, imagining how she would scream if it would have been his cock instead.

“You do not like it?” He looked closely at him, how her face contorted at every single move of his finger. She shook her head. “Use your words, kiddo, I want to hear it.” He ordered, speeding up the movements of his fingers, pushing it deeper, searing for that sweet spot inside her. When he saw her moan again and tried to close her legs, he knew he had found it. She moaned again out loud, her mouth open as she tried to breathe in.

“Say it, kiddo. Tell me. Do you like this or not?” He placed his other hand on her knee, opening her legs again.

“Aemond…” She whined as she turned her head, pressing it against his chest, as she clenched her hands on his shirt, desperately trying to hide herself.

“Stay with me, kiddo, tell me what you feel.” His hand kept working that spot inside her, as his thumb bruised against her pearl, he felt her walls clenching on his fingers.

“I…” She cried out as she tried to hide her face further in his chest. “It… it feels… good.” She moaned again.

“That’s right, it feels good mh?” He groaned as she squirmed again and her body rubbed against his cock. “Fuck–” He growled, he was hard rock, and despite his cock was yearning attention, e was trying to only concentrate on him, even if it was fucking hard.

“Aemond… it feels really good– but so strange, please… I– I don’t know what’s happening… I feel so tense, ah!” She  started squirming uncontrollably, her face red, and shiny by a soft layer of sweat as her walls spasmed around his finger, as she came in a loud moan. Her breathing fast, irregular, her face relaxed, her body limp, resting completely on his. He moved his fingers for a few more moments, trying to help her riding out her strong orgasm, but he stopped as he saw a hint of discomfort on her face. He slowly pulled his fingers out, as she rested her face on his chest, her eyes closed, he licked his fingers.

Sweet, pure nectar.

“You okay kiddo?” He asked once he had cleaned his fingers completely. She let out a sweet noise, and he smiled, closing her legs and pulling down her skirt, he pulled her to him, her legs over his thigh as she kept her face pressed on his shirt.

“You were beautiful, you know?” He kissed the top of her head, leaning back on the couch.

 He was aware that his excitement was more than evident, and that she could see it, but even feel it against her side, but he did nothing to relieve himself.

Not yet.

Not now.

Maybe in a few minutes?

Tag: @zenka69 @blaustappen @julczimozart @diannnnsss @i66cilla @queenofthekeep @summerposie @tssf-imagines @vaylint @sweet-nothings-s @esposamultifandom @av989436751 @ladythornofrivia @xcinnamonmalfoyx @deliaseastar @kotadislikesthissite @nebulamorada @madelynwalt @shari-berri @seraphdayiwah @witchy-jadda @odeioemail @alphard-hydraes-blog @isntitdelicatevivi @famousrebeldaze @ssnapsaurus @paigeestrawfordd

[latenightdaydreams]

Can you please write part of roommate reader? I've hoped it could be a new series 🥺🥺 I'm obsessed with that story lol😩😩😩

yes!! ofc!! 💗

Roommates Part 2 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1

Master List (✍🏽)

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, squirting, dirty talk

2.3k word count

🏠

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Two weeks have passed since König moved in, since the incident happened. You still haven’t talked to him much other than an awkward “hello” here and there. König has been understanding of your behavior, but he honestly wishes you both could move past it. He was wondering if maybe he should just move out.

Today, as you walk out of your room, the aromatic smell of coffee hits you. You see, König leaning against the sink, wearing only gray sweatpants. In his hand he holds a mug of coffee and in the other his phone as he scrolled on it. His blue eyes look up and land on you. A smile forms on his lips, shoving his cell phone into his pocket.

“Guten Morgen. Would you like some coffee? It just finished brewing.” He smiles and shows off his sharp canines.

“Um, no thanks.” You say awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with him.

Trying to ignore him as you walk to the pantry and grab a box of cereal. Then you hear the cabinet open and you see König grabbing a bowl for you. He holds it out for you and you nod in thanks. As you place it all on the table, you see König opening the fridge to get you the milk.

“You don’t have to do everything for me.”

“I don’t mind.” He looks at you as he places the milk on the table and lingers for a while. “I just feel bad for making you feel uncomfortable in your own home.”

“It- you did nothing wrong. Honestly. I’m just, well, mortified.” You say as you fidget with the flap on the box of cereal.

“You don’t have to be. I understand how awkward it must be for you, but please know I don’t judge you for it. If we could just start over and pretend it never happened, I’d like that a lot.”

König looks at you, waiting to see if you’d accept his offer. His eyes drift to your breasts as you look away, trailing up along the curve of your neck and back to your eyes as you look back at him.

“I’d like that.”

A wide smile creeps across König’s lips. “I’m glad.”

That was the start of a slow developing relationship. Eating breakfast together and chatting before bed became somewhat of a ritual for the both of you. Slowly, you both opened up to each other about life goals and past challenges. Without realizing it, you both have revolved your routines around seeing one another. The last few months together have been the happiest he’s been in decades.

Today, when you got home from work, there was a different vibe in the apartment. You kicked off your shoes and placed your bag down by the door.

König’s blue eyes trail up your body, not caring to be discreet. An open beer sitting on the coffee table in front of him. You both look at each other for a moment before you walk forward to the couch and sit next to him.

“Are you okay?”

König doesn’t respond right away; he leans back into the throw pillows. “I’m getting deployed soon.” His blue eyes meet you again. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but he’s been slowly building a relationship with you and now he is being pulled away from you. You’ve felt like home. He’s wasted all this time

“Oh, for how long?” You try to mask the disappointment in your tone.

“Anywhere from six months to a year.”

“That’s a long time.”

“It is.” König’s eyes trail down from your eyes to your lips.

“When do you leave?”

“In three days.” He says, reaching forward for the beer and taking a swig.

Your jaw drops, looking surprised to hear how soon he will leave you. It’s his job, but right now you feel selfish because you want him to stay. You’ll miss his company, miss him.

“The apartment will feel empty without you.” The words flow from your lips with a hint of sorrow.

König forces a small smile. “I really like you.” It was time you both stopped acting like shy teenagers and just got your feelings out there for one another. “I have feelings for you.”

This isn’t recent news to you; you’ve always sort of known he likes you. The way he gazes at you, packs lunches for you, and smiles when he sees you- it’s all very obvious. You’re pretty sure he already knows that you like him, too.

“I have feelings for you, too.”

König’s eyes light up as you confess your feelings are mutual. A smirk comes across his lips. A wave of confidence comes over him as he leans towards you, his hand cupping your face as he places a tender kiss on your lips.

It’s as if sparks go off and travel throughout your whole body as your lips meet. You kiss back eagerly, your lips pressing harder into his as one of your hands moves to his thigh. The feeling of your warm hand makes him shiver.

He slowly pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you. In his mind, he is running through the different ways he can ask you for more. Ask you to wait for him to come back. Give him your body so he can have something to remember while away, other than the mental image you squirting. Months have been wasted because he doesn’t think he’s deserving of you.

You can see the look in his eyes, your hand lightly squeezes his thigh. “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

“I want you.” He finally says. You’ll either agree or reject him. It felt as if a lifetime passed before he felt you move your hand up his thigh more.

“I want you too.”

Words aren’t needed anymore. He grabs your waist and brings you on to his lap. His mouth pressing into yours, opening to lick your bottom lip. You accept him into your mouth as your tongues swirl together. His gigantic hands caress your body, one trailing down the curve of your hip and the other under your shirt, climbing up to your bra.

You can feel his erection press into you, small moans leaving both of your lips into each other’s mouths. His hand slips underneath your bra and cups your breast in his hand. Your skin is so warm and soft. A groan leaving his mouth as his fingers pinch your nipple.

König pulls his mouth away from yours and lifts your shirt off of your body. His lips find yours again as he tosses the shirt on the back of the couch. He reaches around your body to unhook your bra as your tongues flick over one another’s. 

He pulls back again and looks down at your glorious breasts. “Wow.” He looks at you, speechless, for a moment. His eyes meet yours as his mouth drifts to your chest. In one hand, he grips your heavy breast and brings it to his mouth. His tongue reaches out and flicks at your nipple. A small whimper leaves your lips before he wraps his lips around your nipple, latching on to it. Your fingers comb through his messy blonde hair as his mouth hungrily goes back and forth between both breasts.

His fingers fidget with the belt you're wearing, trying to pull your bottoms off of you as fast as he can. You assist him and unbutton your pants, lifting your ass so he can pull your pants off of you. Lips leaving your breasts, he lets his gaze roam over your body. He runs his fingers down your thighs. A little of prickly hair, but König couldn’t care less.

“You’re stunning.” He says, his voice lower than a whisper.

König stands with you in his arms, turning to place you on the couch. He lays you back, almost recreating when he walked in on you, masturbating. It’s all he’s been thinking about, fucking you in that position.

“It was a busy day at work.” You say bashfully, worried about your pussy maybe smelling.

“Perfect.” König says as he continues to kiss down your body.

A blush comes across your face as you look down at him kissing all over your belly, under your belly, your hips, and moving down… You let out a pleasured gasp as he kisses your pussy lips. His hands grasping your legs and spreading them apart, placing one over his arm and the other resting on the coffee table. He kisses up and down your pussy without kicking you. His eyes closed as if he was kissing a lover. Breathing in deeply and taking in your raw natural scent.

Finally, his eyes open and make eye contact with you. His fat tongue pressed down on to your pussy and swipes up quickly, parting your folds around his tongue. You taste fucking divine. He lets out a groan once your juices touch his taste buds.

Your hand reaches out to the back of his head, holding him against you. Moans flowing from your lips as he rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit. His free hand slides up your leg to your pussy. One finger circles around the entrance of your vagina. Slowly, he slips it in. His finger curved upwards as he slowly begins to move it in and out of it.

You close your eyes and drop your head back, letting your body fully appreciate the pleasure it’s receiving right now. Legs twitching as his tongue and arm moves faster. One of your hands moves to your nipple. You tug on it, catching König’s attention.

His cock is rock hard in his pants, absent-mindedly grinding his hips into the couch cushion. The moans you make match what he heard that day he walked in on you. A second finger slips in as his eyes watch you closely. Your hand moves from his head and squeezes the pillows behind your head.

“König, I’m going to cum.” Your voice is higher pitched.

“Are you going to squirt for your König?”

“Yes!” Your back arches as your body trembles. “Fuucckkk!”

König gets hit in the face by your squirting. He opens his mouth and drinks you in, finally being able to taste you. Removing his fingers from your pussy, he rubs them over your clit quickly. He shoves his face into your cunt and shakes his head back and forth.

“Fuck you’re amazing.” He growls.

His hands quickly pull down his pants. He pulls his shirt over his head to reveal his scarred body to you. Your eyes trace over his muscular but soft body as he stands and pulls down his boxes. You try to not act surprised seeing how hung he is when deep down inside you’re worried it will hurt.

König kneels on the couch in front of you, pulling your hips to him. He rubs his raw cock against your clit, getting himself covered in your cum. Since he is a big guy, this angle was a little awkward. One leg over his shoulder, the other one resting down, he lowers himself to kiss your lips.

“Beg for my pussy.” You look into his blue eyes.

König is absolutely shocked, but fuck was that hot.

“Please let me fuck your pussy.” He begs almost pathetically. Never has he been put in this position before. “Please I need to feel you.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing your neck softly. His hips rock against you, aching to thrust into you.

“Fuck me.”

König didn’t hesitate, he thrust into you. He watches your face as he does. Your face scrunches as you feel him bottom out inside of you. Shoving his 10-inch cock into you as much as you’ll take. Whimpers leave your lips and your eyes maintain contact with his.

“That’s it, Liebling. You can take me.” His voice is low and sensual. Slowly he pulls back and thrust into you again, harder this time.

“Oh my god! Please fuck me!” You’ve never felt a cock this good before, not even your toys can compare. His hips begin to slam into you.

Pathetic little mewls escape your mouth as your eyes flutter back. A cocky grin appears on his face as he sees you turn from that dominant woman to a cock hungry mess.

“You take my cock so well, meine Kleine Hure.”

Not speaking German, you’re unaware he just called you his little whore, but the tone in his voice excites you. Your eyes stay locked on his as his hips roll into you at a rapid pace. The feeling of your wet pussy wrapping tightly around him is pushing him to the edge.

“I’m going to cum Liebling…” He pants as he leans in to kiss on your neck. His cock begins to throb as he moans loudly, moaning out your name. You caress his body as he lays on you, catching his breath.

König sits up, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you up with him. Your body straddles his lap as you both kiss.

“I want you to be mine. I want to know that I have you to come home to. That your body and mind are mine.” He kisses your cheek softly, waiting for your response.

His words make you pause, you pull away to look into his eyes. You trace each scar that covers his handsome face, trying to memorize him and this moment, knowing he will be leaving soon.

“I’ll wait for you. I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours, Liebling.”

König leans in to kiss your lips again, addicted to the way you taste. Even the way your breath smells. He’s just in love with everything about you.

“What does Liebling mean?”

“Oh, it’s like calling you, my love.”

“That’s really cute.” You giggle and think back to sex. “What does Kleine Hure mean?” The German words come out pronounced terribly, but König understood.

König clears his throat and blushes, “Oh, uh-”

[save-the-villainous-cat]

I was rereading the hero x vampire heat season snippet you wrote and was wondering if you could do a similar one? Like a hero that is very shy and embarrassed about being attracted to villain, and maybe even really likes the villain's voice, and the villain teases and/or reassures them it's totally normal/okay?

No pressure at all, and regardless of whether you answer i hope you'll have a wonderful day! <3

“Did you know—” the villain’s lips were dangerously close to the hero’s burning ear “—I find your fangs adorable?”

The hero hadn’t expected a kidnapping to turn into this, to turn into a romantic conversation by the fireplace. It was cruel how sweet the villain could be. The hero had been nervous enough already when the villain had asked them kindly to get into the car.

Kindly with a gun pointing at them.

The hero had been shot before and they knew from experience that it wasn’t a particularly nice experience.

“Those fangs could rip out your throat,” the hero said. Slowly, the villain drew shapes with their index finger into the hero’s thigh. That was cruel, too. The villain knew they were sensitive, especially today.

“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” the villain asked. “That way this spluttery mouth could finally shut up and find some peace…my colleagues hate how much I talk about you.”

“You’re mean,” the hero said. They could feel themselves slipping back into their desires. There was a line, a very fine line between control and instincts and somehow the villain managed to dance on that line with the hero perfectly.

That had its own perks. Sometimes, the hero welcomed the challenge. But not really today in particular. Some days were more manageable whereas on others the hero felt like a wild animal.

“You asked me to do this, don’t you remember?”

“I asked you to make sure I wouldn’t kill any people,” the hero said. “And that I wouldn’t go crazy.”

“And I’m doing that. This is called damage control, darling.” The villain leaned over and the hero could feel their soft breath on the hero’s neck. “I hope you like it.”

“Curse you,” the hero whispered. Instinctively, they cupped the villain’s jaw and pulled them close enough for their cheeks to touch. “You know what this does to me.”

“Poor hero,” they mused. The villain’s hand travelled down to the hero’s knee. “Tell me, dear. Is my heart beating fast?”

They took the hero’s hand and pressed it against their own chest.

It nearly broke the hero. Desiring someone was one thing. Being subdued to their own nature was humbling and embarrassing. It was something that plagued them regularly.

But being desired? Someone feeling the same things they did? Someone who was willing to treat them this well…?

The hero swallowed.

A while ago, some people they had trusted had treated them like an animal. They’d been imprisoned for being a vampire. Those people had promised them to keep others safe from them but it had been raw torture. And now, the villain let them walk around freely. They gave them delicious food and tasty drinks.

They spoiled them.

“Can you feel it? Can you tell how fast my heart is beating?” the villain asked. Their voice was deeper now, more alluring.

“You…”

“You want to bite, don’t you? Sink your teeth into my neck and suck…”

“I shouldn’t—”

“Why not?” the villain asked. Gently, they grabbed the hero’s hips and pulled them towards them until the hero was sitting on the villain’s lap. In response, the hero gasped softly and held onto the villain’s clothing. “Hm?”

“…I shouldn’t even like you in the first place. We are enemies.”

“And yet, you asked me to take care of you.”

“…maybe.” The hero closed their eyes. The villain’s heart was beating fast but it wasn’t only desire. They were nervous.

The hero wasn’t sure if the villain was nervous because of them or something else.

“I trust you,” the hero said. “I believe that you will make the right choices when it comes to me. I can’t explain it but…you can deal with me. You can handle me. You know what I need. And that is kind of scary.”

Despite the hero’s endless advances towards the villain, they had never forced the hero to do anything. They always let the hero make the first move.

“It’s perfectly normal to be attracted to me when you’re…in this state,” the villain said. “I will not—”

“That’s the problem. It doesn’t stop once this phase is over. It never really stops.” The hero’s ears were burning and they could feel the villain’s heartbeat increase quickly.

“We should get some band aids for my neck then,” the villain said.

The hero couldn’t tell who was more excited.

[yayakoishii]

Please please please!! Sanji x reader request during whole cake island where sanji and reader were already a thing prior to the event and how torn up sanji is over it. Especially if they still hadn't said I love you yet and sanji is realizing that yes he loves reader and wants to marry them but he can't cause he wants to protect them and everyone. Reader having a similar realization/crying to the crew about it and Luffy going, nope this is happening I'm a captain and I'm marrying you two (let's pretend he learned captains can marry people from shanks but he still doesn't know what marriage is just that he can do this so he wants to do it)

Yours To Love | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre/Tags: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Love Confession, Spoilers for Wholecake Island arc

A/n: I hope I'm not too late anon!! I think it's been a week or so since you sent this, so I hope you get to see this <3 I really sat down and wrote this in one sitting like a possessed person hahahah~ Thank you for the request and I hope this is to your liking (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠) I tweaked your request very very minorly but I enjoyed writing it a lot!

Also available on ao3!

Seeing Sanji again was like seeing the sun after weeks and weeks of never-ending rain.

It hadn't been more than a week or two since you had separated in Dressrosa but being a part of the strawhat crew meant you could never catch a break for too long. When you heard what Sanji had done from Nami and the others, a small part of you hurt that maybe, just maybe, you weren't enough for Sanji.

The next moment you had discarded the thought completely and felt horrible for even thinking that way about Sanji. You knew he would never lie to you. You knew, more than anyone on the crew, just how much he truly enjoyed being a part of the crew. Your insecurity over how Sanji and you hadn't yet spoken of love made no difference to the fact that Sanji would never choose to leave the crew.

Maybe he didn't love you back but he loved the crew. So him choosing to go to the tea party where he would be married off was a sign that he must believe either that he can: (a) handle it by himself and make it back no problem, or (b) the situation was dangerous and he wanted to take care of it himself in a way that wouldn't harm the crew. You were more inclined towards b, considering this was Big Mom and Germa 66 that were being talked about.

You wanted to go get Sanji back too but the rest of the crew who had fought in Dressrosa was going to Wano and you were probably expected to do the same. But Sanji was still your boyfriend. He was yours, and he was going to get married off to some girl you had never heard of before today, and your heart refused to accept it. You refused to let him go. He was yours to hold, yours to keep and yours to love. You would get him back even if you had to fight Luffy to join them.

Thankfully, you didn't have to fight him at all. When you meekly suggested joining them, your captain had just tilted his head in confusion and said, "Huh? What do you mean? Of course you're coming. I was going to take you along the whole time."

And now half of the crew was here in Totto land, and Luffy had just defeated Cracker and Kingbaum was taking you three to the castle where Sanji was supposed to be. Instead, you had stumbled across Germa 66 midway and after days, you were finally seeing the face of the man you loved so deeply that it hurt.

"We've come to take you back!" Luffy was hanging onto the coach while you and Nami were still on the running Kingbaum and you could make out Sanji's face from a distance. You were smiling so hard upon seeing him look okay. He wasn't hurt. Good. Suddenly, he turned and kicked Luffy off the coach and you gasped.

"Hey!" Nami was equally shocked. "What was that for, Sanji?!"

"Get lost," Sanji said, his face unlike any he had ever shown the crew, "you miserable inferior pirates."

You considered the possibility that it could be a Germa clone. But there was no way they would take a close to the tea party when they already had done the effort of getting the real deal to come there.

"My name is Vinsmoke Sanji and I am a prince of Germa kingdom!"

He had never told you that in the few months of your relationship. You knew there was something he wasn't telling you but you had never pried because you knew that the reason Sanji wasn't mentioning it was probably because it was something that didn't matter. Germa was supposed to be a thing of his past– and it was supposed to stay there for the rest of his life. Except it had come back, like cockroaches are apt to do, and brought a storm into your lives.

You just stood there, listening to Sanji make claims that were like stabs to your heart continuously. For your situation, your mind felt thunderously calm. You were noting the laughter of his ‘brothers’ in the back, the way Sanji was staring with steely eyes at Luffy and hadn't met your eyes even once, the rigid muscles of his face as he spoke about how he would be getting married to Big Mom's beautiful daughter.

Maybe someone would say you are in denial, but you refused to believe it. Sanji was spouting a load of bullshit and it was making laughter bubble up in your throat. You only kept it down because this wasn't the time or place for it. The Sanji you knew would never say these words, unless he believed it was the only way he could keep you all safe.

"Don't get involved! I'll drive him off."

You couldn't say a word as you watched Sanji and Luffy start fighting. You had never thought you would see this one day. Your heart was hurting and your mind was a huge mess of thoughts but all you could focus on was how much Sanji must be hurting.

He must be wanting to come back home to the Sunny with you. He had told you in the dark covers of night when you two had made love, that there was no place more appropriate than with the crew that he thought of when he thought of the word ‘home’. The boy who had said that to you could never say these words and mean them. He would only say it if it meant protecting his home and his crew.

You watched as Luffy didn't hit back even once and kept taking hit after hit. Silent tears were already streaming down your face from watching Sanji's emotional hurt and Luffy's physical one. You wished this was a nightmare.

When Sanji knocked out Luffy, you finally exhaled and slowly walked over to him. Nami had already gotten past you and slapped him in the face, saying goodbye to him. You stared at Sanji when you were close enough. His head that had turned from the impact of Nami's slap didn't turn to look at yours, as if you were invisible. You let out a shaky exhale and smiled weakly at him.

"I guess," you swallowed as you placed a gentle hand on the cheek Nami was slapped and watched him flinch just slightly under your touch, "even if I said ‘Come back home with me, Sanji’, you wouldn't change your mind, huh?"

He still wouldn't look at you and he didn't respond, but his hand came up to rest over yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze, the way he always did when he would apologise to you for anything. You told your aching heart that it was fine. This wouldn't be the last time you see Sanji.

"This is farewell then," you said quietly, just low enough for only him to hear as your hand slipped away. "I hope you are happy wherever you are. Because if you were doing this for us, then you should know that we'll never be complete without you. And, foolish as I am, I won't be happy without you."

You turned away without looking at him and instead walked back to Luffy and Nami, your eyes threatening to spill tears you did not wish him to see. If this was truly the last time you would see Sanji, you wanted his last memory of you to be of you smiling at him.

You heard Sanji get back up and the carriage drawing away. Luffy got up and started shouting again. Your lips quivered, your back to the road as you looked at your captain. "You can kick me all you want, but you're the one feeling the pain!"

For all his idiocy and no brain cell moments, you knew how well Luffy knew all his crewmates. He may not show it most days, but he understood you all the best. You watched him scream some more, crying harder and harder until he ended with, "Without you, I can't become the pirate king!!"

They were gone after that and in the silence, you could finally feel the flood of thoughts wash over you once again, one thought the most prominent of all. You truly loved Sanji. You had never told him but you loved every inch of him, more than you had ever realised until this moment, when your heart was afraid that it would never be able to tell Sanji this.

"I don't know what I should do," you mumbled, covering your face in your hands. You could feel Nami's comforting arms around your shoulders. "I love him. I love that idiot. Who cares if he's a prince, a beggar or even a Marine?! No matter what he is, in every universe, I would still fall in love with him. I love him so much and I have to stand and watch him marry someone else, all while I keep thinking that it should be me. I want to be the one next to him on the altar and I've, I've lost my chance to tell him."

"No, you haven't," Luffy said firmly from where he was lying. Your tears were starting to dry up and you turned to look at your captain. His face was determined. "Sanji will come. And you will marry him."

"How are we gonna do that, huh?" You chuckled wetly as you settled down next to Luffy.

"We'll get him back and you'll ask him to marry you," Luffy said simply, "and then he will say yes and then, I will marry you two off."

"You'll be our officiant, Luffy?" You giggled. You didn't know what it was about him, but Luffy could make you believe in the most impossible of things. There was already a big part of you that felt at peace from his words. It would work out somehow. If it's Luffy, then anything is possible.

"I heard of it from two of Shanks' crewmates as a kid," he said, giving you a wide grin. "I didn't think I'd ever need to do it but I've looked into it ever since you two started dating. It was getting a little boring waiting for you two though. I was going to ask you two to marry if you took any longer."

"Oh god," you wheezed, feeling insane for laughing at this moment. "That would have been hilarious. A crazy story to tell if someone asked us ‘who proposed’ and we would have to answer ‘Luffy’!"

Your words were cut off by the arrival of clouds from Big Mom's rage. It was time for you to get Sanji back.

•

Pudding's words should hurt somewhere, Sanji thought to himself absent-mindedly from where he was hiding. He had brought the flowers and he had tried to convince himself that his marriage with Pudding could make him happy and it would keep the crew safe. But, she didn't love him the way you did. She could be the kindest, nicest person in the whole world, but she wasn't you.

You, who had seen him through his worst, who had personally tended to his wounds both physical and emotional, who had looked like a heavenly being under him, who had smiled at him despite his secrets, who understood him on such a fundamental level– you were the apple of his eye, the love of his life.

Pudding's words should have hurt but they didn't because he knew that her opinion of him had no impact on your opinion of him. And even if the whole world hated him, you never would. Sanji had thought that this would be where you draw the line. That you would finally get fed up with him and leave. No one even stayed with him in the first place and you had done it for so long that he was afraid you would leave. What he had done at this point would have been enough for anyone else to get angry and slap him.

And yet, when he had seen you there, he knew he couldn't look into your eyes. One look and his resolve would crumble. Because there was no mistaking what he felt towards you whenever he looked into your eyes that seemed to hold the whole world. He truly loved you from the bottom of his heart. There was no one else in this world who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

It had to be you. It could only be you.

And yet, he didn't have much of a choice in this whole matter, did he? Sanji just walked away, thinking and thinking about what he should do.

About how he could get back home to you.

•

When all was said and done and all of you were back on the Sunny, making your way to Wano, Luffy just placed a hand on your shoulder and said with his most serious face, "You better do it fast or I will do it on your behalf."

"Shut up," you weakly punched him in the shoulder and rolled your eyes– but your heart was happy. Neither you nor Sanji had talked about anything the whole time you were escaping. You had just hugged him silently and he had done the same; you knew there would be time to talk later. And that time was now. "Sanji?"

"Hm?" Sanji looked up from where he was cooking in the kitchen. After hearing the mess the crew had made with cooking, he had slipped back into his role as always. The sight of him chopping vegetables on the kitchen counter of the Thousand Sunny made your heart warm up. "Sweethea–(y/n)."

He switched from the endearing term to your name, looking nervous. He was probably thinking about how he didn't deserve to call you that anymore, huh?

"Am I no longer your sweetheart?" You asked teasingly as you crossed over to stand across the counter from him. He looked at you, scared yet hopeful. "Did you change your mind about me after seeing, ah, Pudding, wasn't it?"

"No, my love!" He cried out, hands shooting upwards to take you into his arms but he stopped just in time. He didn't know if you still wanted him to touch you. Somehow, it felt like the two of you from all those months back, when you hadn't yet started dating. "This whole time… I couldn't think of anything but how I have wronged you the most out of everyone. I do not feel worthy to be on the receiving end of your love."

"Shouldn't I get to decide that?" You retorted, leaning over the counter. You grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. It had been too long since you had kissed your golden boy. "If you're the one I love and if you're the one my heart has decided it wants to marry, then you're already worthy, silly boy. You aren't a man until you realise that you're worthy of all the love in this world."

You ended up saying it all in a teasing manner but you could see the shock in his eyes at your words. The silence stretched over the kitchen awkwardly and your smile wavered for a second.

"You better say yes," you huffed to yourself, "because I don't think Luffy made a plan for you refusing my proposal."

Sanji was confused for all of one second before he was nodding, gently pushing aside the vegetables he was cutting so he could slide over the top of the counter to you. He cradled your face in his hands, holding you reverently as he placed kisses all over your face. You flushed under the attention, feeling home at last.

"This feels too much like a dream," he admitted, knocking his forehead on yours. "That you would still want me, that you would still love me… Despite all my mistakes, in spite of how I've wronged you, you're still here."

"I love you with all my heart," you admitted to him. "I love you for who you are Sanji, flaws and all. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If, if you happen to feel the same…"

"Don't be silly," he interrupted you, so unlike himself. "If I shouldn't doubt my worth, you shouldn't doubt my love either. I may not have ever said it before this, but I truly do love you so much."

Sanji pulled you into a kiss and you let him, your arms tightening around his waist. You had been so wrong back then. You had been scared that that would be the last time you're seeing him but right now, you knew that this was the start of seeing Sanji every day for the rest of your lives.

"C'mon then," you giggled after the two of you had made out for a while. "Gotta tell Luffy."

"Why?" Sanji was baffled. "What's Luffy got to do with any of this?"

"Hey now, our captain kindly offered to marry the two of us off, you know."

"He what?!"

"He was also ready to propose on my behalf. You better be happy I beat him to it."

"I don't even know what to say."

"Just let me do the talking, how about that?"

"But of course, sweetheart! ♡"

°•❀•°

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[slu7formen]

Luke, who´s obsessed with saying, ´where my hug at?´

fully based on this post

warnings. fluff <3, little drunk!luke

₊˚⊹♡

The phrase had become a running joke, a playful thorn in your side. It all started innocently. You and Luke had been sparring very intensely, just like you always did when you wanted to put your engines to work and you had some free time. And like most times, he would beat you.

And after he helped you get up from the ground, he let it out.

“Where my hug at?”

You turn to him. He was standing there, sword in hand, with his arms open and ready to receive you. "What?" you laugh.

"Come on” he gestured you with his fingers to get closer to him, “Don´t you need one after stomping your ass to the ground? Again?”

You scoff. It was ridiculous, yes, but there was something about the way he said it, a goofy earnestness that made you want to laugh. And partly, because you knew he knew you too well; you did like giving hugs, just as much as you like receiving. But still, you knew he was teasing you.

“I´m not giving you any hugs” you say.

“You´ll need it later” he teased.

You hesitated for a moment, but then with a groan, you gave in, wrapping your arms around his torso as he wrapped his own over your shoulder to keep your head close to his chest.

But that one hug was a button you shouldn´t have pressed. From that day on, ‘Where my hug at?’ became Luke's catchphrase, deployed with strategic precision to elicit a reaction from you.

You sat on a sturdy tree trunk one night, a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming your hands. Counselor duties had been particularly demanding today, and a pleasant weariness settled over you as you watched the flames lick at the night sky.

“Hey” Luke said as he appeared behind you, taking a seat next to you.

You hadn't seen Luke all day, his schedule as busy as yours. “Hi” you greeted.

“Rough day, huh?” he asked.

You glanced at him, a tired smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You could say that. You?"

He stretched languidly, his arm brushing against yours. "Same" he said before taking your own mug from your hands, taking a sip.

A comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the rhythmic roar of the fire. You both sat there, lost in your own thoughts, enjoying the shared camaraderie.

"Got any plans for tonight?” he asked casually.

You shrugged, tossing a charred stick onto the growing pile of embers. "Probably just stargaze for a bit, I need that."

"Sounds boring" he declared.

“You´re boring” You chuckled, nudging him playfully. "You spend all day teaching swordsmanship."

"Well, someone needs to make sure these kids don't accidentally poke someone's eye out” he declared. And there was another soft silence, before he broke it with another comment. “I´m really fucking tired” he groaned.

“Yeah, me too” you say, squeezing your own neck as you feel a knot growing bigger and bigger every time you move.

“Where my hug at, then?”

“Oh, Jesus”

Gods, wouldn't he let it go?

“Pleasee-ah, I need to squish something” he said.

"Where does this obsession with hugs even come from?" you ask, taking another sip from your mug.

He shrugged. “Beats me. Maybe because I just happen to know a certain someone who´s all about physical touch?"

"Oh, please," you scoffed, stepping on his foot on purpose. "You just like messing with me."

"Maybe a little," he admitted, “Come on! Don´t you feel sorry for me?”

You couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculousness. "Fine, fine" you conceded, scooting closer to him. As you leaned in for the hug, Luke chuckled, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you close. You both stare into the flames in silence.

"See?" he murmured with satisfaction. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

And because of how proud he feels, you pull away and push him down to the grass, his feet being the only thing visible over the tree trunk as a small group of campers erupted in laughter.

Gods, you had to be careful when he got drunk.

He was already clingy enough when he drank, but ever since the questions became his whole personality, he was much more annoying. "Man, it´s getting cold" he declared, throwing his arm dramatically around your shoulders. "Where my hug at?"

"You've asked me like ten times already, Luke” you groan, unwrapping his arm around you.

He blinked slowly, processing the information. "Oh," he mumbled, his grin faltering. "Have I?"

You nodded, fighting back a smile at his sheepish expression. There was a moment of silence. Just as you thought you might have escaped the hug-question, Luke spoke again.

"Well then," he declared, his voice thick with drunken confidence, "where my eleventh hug at?"

“It´s not here!” you yell.

Then he disappeared from a moment with Chris, and just a few minutes later, he came back. Pocking on his own biceps.

"Hey," Luke called. "Did I ever tell you how much stronger I'm getting?"

"Uh-huh" you replied cautiously, sensing another round coming on.

"Yeah," he continued, his voice laced with a newfound seriousness. "I could, like-, totally take down the entire cabin five."

You patted his back awkwardly, unsure how to respond to his drunken boast. "That's...great?”

"Yeah, it is!" he declared, pulling away and looking at you with wide, glassy eyes. "Come on, feel my arms, where my hug at?"

You started to poke Luke´s arms as he only looked at you, puffing up his chest as he waited. “I can feel your arms without having to hug you” you protest.

“Ugh” he groaned, “You´re so difficult to convince”

But sometimes, when the atmosphere was different, so was the question.

You sat perched on a rock overlooking the beach, waves crashing rhythmically against the shore. A soft crunch of gravel alerted you to Luke's presence. He climbed onto the rock beside you, his gaze mirroring yours as he took in the breathtaking sunset. You could feel Luke's concerned gaze turn towards you, and you knew he'd noticed the glistening tracks of dried tears on your cheeks.

"Your mom?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern as he looked down at the piece of paper you had on your lap.

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. A sniffle escaped you, and you quickly folded the letter again, tucking it away with a sigh.

"What'd she say?" he pressed gently.

You forced a smile, but it reached neither your eyes nor your heart. "I can't go," you whispered, the disappointment heavy in your voice. "She won't let me."

Luke shifted closer, his presence a silent source of comfort. He didn't bombard you with questions or try to offer false reassurances. He simply understood. “Well, at least you´re staying here with me” He bumped his shoulder against yours playfully, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes. You couldn't help but let out a soft, shaky laugh.

"Yeah," you mumbled, the weight on your chest lifting a little. "Yeah, that's not too bad."

The two of you sat there in companionable silence, watching the last rays of sunlight surrender to the approaching night.

The silence stretched on, punctuated only by the rhythmic roar of the waves. You turned your head towards Luke, his profile etched against the vibrant sunset.

"Luke" you called.

He turned toward you, his eyes searching yours. A hesitant smile touched your lips, a flicker of hope igniting within you. In that moment, the question that usually brought forth annoyance now carried a deeper meaning.

"Where my hug at?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He didn´t need you to ask twice. Without a word, he opened his arms wide, a silent invitation for comfort as he couldn´t hold back a little laugh.

You didn't hesitate. You leaned into his embrace, burying your face in the familiar scent of him. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you close as if afraid to let go, silently acknowledging your pain. His touch was a promise to be there for you whenever you needed him.

The tears you'd been holding back finally spilled over. You let them flow freely, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace. In that moment, the disappointment faded into the background, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you weren't alone. You had Luke, and that, at least for now, was enough.

[seonghrtz]

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑.

synopsis: the first parents meeting. warnings: mentions of blood, bruises, fights and bullying.

Gojo straightened his dark glasses that were sliding down the bridge of his nose. He glanced sideways at Megumi, who sat next to him, still as a statue and with a bored expression on his face; little Fushiguro had his hands in his lap, his knuckles red and bruised. On the other side of the room, two couples were sitting with their children, their faces covered in bruises. ‘At least the brat won the fight,’ Gojo thought, holding back a laugh.

Almost as soon as the principal was about to address Gojo, a knock on the door echoed through the room and soon you appeared, apologizing for being late. A discreet smile appeared on Gojo's pink lips as he followed your movements until you sat down next to Megumi, the albino even noticing your bandaged dominant hand, probably when you had been contacted by the school warning that Megumi was in trouble, you were on yet another of the thousands of missions you did every single day.

But your serious, almost angry expression ⸻ quite different from the serious you were with him ⸻ sent a shiver down Gojo's spine and the tips of his ears turned slightly red.

"Now that everyone is present, I would like to begin this very important meeting. It has been reported that Fushiguro Megumi physically assaulted two classmates during lunch today. According to the two victims of Fushiguro's aggressive behavior, this was not the first time they had been physically assaulted and that Fushiguro had previously threatened them verbally. This behavior is completely contrary to the behavior we are trying to teach at this school, and as a punishment, we have decided that Fushiguro Megumi will be suspended for three days to reflect on his actions.”

"Three days? That's not enough time for this little thug to reflect on his actions, he should be expelled from school, look how he left my dear son". One of the mothers complained.

Gojo was ready to argue with the woman, but was interrupted by your voice.

"Are you sure this really happened?" you asked in a firm voice.

"Excuse me?" The principal looked you up and down, staring for minutes at your bandaged hand, the gauze stained red. "I believe you're too young and not at all likeable to be Megumi's real mother, so I think you're just a guardian, Miss... Miss Kamo," he said after he had read your name from Megumi's file. "Don't you think you're a bit unqualified to take care of a child, considering that Fushiguro had a role model for his aggressive behavior?"

"I think you have as much wrong information about what led to today's event as your wig."

Gojo laughed at your words, dying inside to comment on the director's ill-fitting wig.

"What?" The principal looked at you with an expression of surprise and indignation.

"For about a month now, Megumi has been telling me about a couple of rude boys who were making fun of a girl who was quiet in class and picking on her. I told him to tell the teacher what was going on, but the teacher didn't seem to care. About a week ago, when I went to pick up Megumi from school, a mother stopped me in the middle of the street with her daughter, who was all bruised up, and thanked Megumi for stopping the bullies from hitting her daughter, which happened to be the same day he got a warning about his aggressive behavior. But I don't think those good boys even got a warning for their aggressions against the girl. And so her mother took her out of school and now we're in this meeting because Megumi is violent against ‘good-hearted people’. Don't you think there's something in this story that doesn't quite fit?”

"Are you saying that my son is a bully? What audacity is that, you bitch, you're nothing but a brat!"

"Sir, did you look at the security cameras before you put all the blame on Megumi?" You asked, ignoring the woman.

The principal swallowed and looked at the teacher standing next to him, who was breaking out in a cold sweat from all the talking you had done, knowing that you weren't wrong in a single word.

"Oh, of course you didn't look, that was too much to expect from such incompetent professionals as yourselves." You took a deep breath, "Gojo, you were right when you said that this isn't one of the best schools and they certainly don't live up to their ideals and morals. Let's get Megumi out of here and put him in a better school and make an official complaint about misconduct."

"Ah, finally, can we go now?" Gojo rose from his chair with a sideways smile.

"I think we wasted enough time with an unnecessary meeting." You got up with Megumi to leave the room as quickly as possible.

"Hey, bitch! You think you can just walk away and it's all over?" One of the women said, getting your attention, "Do you really think we're going to let this little shit beat up our kids and get away with it? Besides all the crap you said?"

When the woman least expected it, your bandaged hand passed millimeters away from her face and slammed into the wall behind her, making a terrifying sound. You pulled your hand away from the wall, showing the broken spot where it had hit and a small dead mosquito in the middle of the shattered wall, controlling yourself as much as possible, both in your anger and in the cursed energy running wild through your body. The woman looked horrified at what had happened and at you, who were so close to her, with a serious expression on your face.

"You can say whatever you want about me and use the most offensive words, but don't you dare say anything about my son." Your firm tone made the woman swallow dryly, afraid that one wrong word or movement would fully awaken the beast within you. "Are we clear?" You asked, making the woman nod frantically.

Without saying another word, you left the principal's office with Megumi, but when you looked back, you noticed that a certain albino with bright blue eyes was missing.

Gojo was still in the principal’s office. The boy let out a chuckle that caught everyone's attention, and when they all looked in his direction, he took off his round sunglasses and looked at everyone with his deadly blue eyes.

"I just wanted to warn you, if you mess with my girl, be disrespectful or have the audacity to talk to her, know that I will destroy every single of you and you will be reduced to nothing. Now... if you want to live a long life, I advise you not to even think about her, or I will be the last thing you ever see. It may sound like a joke, but believe me, it's not.”

Satoru smiled briefly and put his glasses back on before leaving the room. The young sorcerer walked with long strides to where you were standing next to Megumi.

"...violence is not always the solution, Fushiguro." You took a deep breath and placed your hand gently on the boy's head. "But I'm proud of you for doing the right thing and not only helping the innocent girl, but also warning someone who could solve the whole situation."

"It is a shame that the 'person who could solve the whole situation' was such a shitty and irresponsible person. But I'm glad you won the fight! My son is not a loser!"

"I'm not your son." Megumi replied with a bored tone.

"Wow, you didn't say anything when Kamo-chan called you her son, but when I do, then I get hit back!" Gojo said dramatically.

"Oh, about that, forgive me, I think I got a little carried away when I said it.”

"It's okay..." Megumi looked away with red cheeks. He wouldn't admit it, at least not at that moment, but a part of him had liked it when you called him son, it made him feel part of something, part of a real family.

"How about some ice cream while we discuss which school to put Megumi in, huh?" Gojo smiled excitedly at the idea of eating something sweet.

"Whatever..." Megumi shrugged.

Just as you were about to speak, your phone rang, interrupting the moment. You pulled it out of your uniform pocket and looked at the number, immediately recognizing that they were ready to send you on another mission. Your eyes flicked from the small screen to Megumi and Gojo, who seemed to be arguing about something completely trivial, causing a small, discreet half-smile to appear on your lips. Quickly, your finger pressed the off button and you put your phone back in your pocket.

"Where's the ice cream parlor?" You asked, getting their attention.

"Who was calling you…?" Gojo asked curiously about your phone call.

"Nobody important. Now tell me where the ice cream parlor is before I change my mind."

"Ah, always so serious, Kamo-chan!" Gojo pouted.

"And stop calling me that!"

"Oh, you hurt my feelings that way... Kamo-chan," Gojo laughed when he noticed your angry look in his direction.

"You were amazing there." Gojo murmured as he cleaned the wound on your dominant hand.

You were sitting on a bench in the bathroom of Satoru's room after a lot of insistence from the albino in front of you. You were so tired after fighting low and medium level curses since the early hours of the morning, with the whole situation with Megumi at school and Gojo's voice in your head, that you finally accepted that Satoru would take care of your injuries.

"Oh, you think so?" You asked dully, "I think I overdid it a bit, especially with the punch on the wall..."

"That was the best part!" Gojo exclaimed excitedly, "You're extremely sexy when you're angry."

"Can we have a normal conversation without you making it awkward?" You rolled your eyes at the albino's comment.

"Okay, okay, if you want to get emotional! Look, what you did for Megumi in that room was unbelievable. That boy looks up to you and you're such an inspiration to him, I could see the happiness in his eyes when you stood up for him. Thank you so much for helping me with all this child care stuff.” Gojo said as he bandaged your hand again, but in the right way and not the messy way it was in the morning, "Aah, when I say nice things you just ignore me, leave me in the lurch, is that it?" he asked when he noticed your lack of response.

"Ah... sorry, well... I don't really know what to say."

"Nah, it's okay, I was just being annoying." Gojo smiled mischievously, "So the part where you said about the principal's wig was so iconic!" Gojo laughed, "It was so crooked, I don't know how no one warned him about it.”

You just watched Satoru give his point of view of the whole situation. In the dim light of the bathroom, with his black shorts and simple white blouse, he looked like a normal teenager, not the most powerful weapon in Jujutsu society. Gojo Satoru was perhaps the most human person you had ever met, even if you only thought of him as the strongest sorcerer of your generation.

But in this light, in front of you, Gojo seemed to be just Satoru. A person without fancy titles who secretly carried a heavy burden. He was just Satoru, a teenager who had lost many things, but who was trying his best to make sure that two children would have different paths than he had, and that they could truly be children without having their childhood stolen from them.

And there, in the midst of his laughter and his ridiculous imitations with exaggerated and dramatic expressions of the event, you felt your heart beat faster.

memory garden masterlist !

☆! tag list: @arminswifee . @khaleesihavilliard . @chieeeeeee . @manooffline . @shybananabagellover . @r0ckst4rjk . @sad-darksoul . @chuluoyi . @stormflysaysstuff . @arminsarlerts

© SEONGHRTZ, 2024ㅤ⸻ㅤall rights reserved. please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !

[4unnyr0se]

pookie pls can you write for gojo where reader and him are coworkers at jujutsu high and have a dynamic similar to utahime and gojo? and like yaga is always making them work together even tho they don’t like eachother, but Gojo lowkey gets off on reader being annoyed at him so there is *tension*? 🥺🥺🥺

❥ whole lotta attitude | satoru gojo

warnings: enemies to lovers, gojo is a dickhead but it's okay because he's gojo, fem! reader, unprotected sex, office sex (im a slut for office sex), multiple orgasms, wall sex, roughness, one hickey, spanking, oral sex (m! receiving), making out, filthy filthy words are spoken, hella sexual tension, reader hates gojo but gojo loooooves her, gojo gets slapped once, degrading, praise, hair pulling, hate(?) sex, gojo texts like a super senior, a little bit of a textfic but not rlly, fluff at the end

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 3.6k

Jujutsu High was quiet today. That wasn’t unusual because most of the students were either out on missions or in Shokos’ office experiencing whatever the hell she called “medicine.” The quiet was nice, strangely calming, and reassuring. Being a jujutsu sorcerer yourself, calm was a foreign feeling. The cool breeze blew your hair softly in the wind, the songbirds tweeting a melody that was most becoming on this quiet say. You took a deep breath in as you leaned against a wooden pole, admiring how clear the sky was. Everything was simply perfect. If tomorrow was your last day alive, today would be the most wonderful send-off.

“Hey there princess! I missed you!” 

And just like that, there was no more peace. No more tranquility, no more sing-song bird crap. There’s only Satoru Gojo and his humongous ego that crushes anyone within a 50-foot radius. 

His deep voice was laced with a sickly sweet playful tone that made you want to grab his collar and punch him right in his perfect nose. God, you fucking hated him. He was the bane of your existence with his smug attitude and that stupid infinity that he only turned off when you were around. Did he seriously think you were that weak, and he didn’t even need to use infinity because he could defeat you within a millisecond? Stupid fucking handsome bastard, you hated him with every fiber of your being. 

“What, you’re ignoring me now? Don’t be like that, it’s not nice!” Gojo laughed and practically teleported to where you were sitting, his eyes no doubt sparkling under that black blindfold he always wore. 

You groaned and rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and looking away from the smug bastard. “Fuck off, Gojo. I was having a perfectly peaceful afternoon before your very existence ruined it for me.” You pinched your temple with your index finger and thumb, rubbing the stressed skin. “I was calm for once in my damn life. You really do have a talent for making me wish I was six feet under.”

Gojo playfully pouted and shifted himself to your other side, taking your hand off your temple. He cradled it with his own, royally pissing you off in the process. “Why are you always so grumpy all the time, huh? Is it because your students are always out on missions instead of keeping little ol’ your company?” He mocked slightly, letting go of your hand. His blue eyes sparkled beneath his blindfold, filled with mischief. “I could keep your company, you know that right? Or is Little Miss Grumpy Pants too high and mighty to give me a shot?”

“I would literally rather make out with Jogo than spend more time with you than I’m legally required.”

“Ouch, that hurt.”

“Too bad, so sad.” You smirked, shoving him away. If anyone else had seen that they would have been shocked. The mighty Satoru Gojo, pushed to the ground by a grade two sorcerer. You rose up from the wooden desk and dusted yourself off, walking away as quickly as you could in your tennis shoes.

“I always look forward to these meetings you know!” Gojo yelled at you in the distance only to see the faintest image of your middle finger wiggling at him. Gojo smirked and put down the hem of his blindfold, his hair returning to its usual upright position. 

You stormed back into your office and locked the door shut, sliding down against the mahogany doorframe in exhaustion. How was it possible that just being in his presence absolutely drained you of all resolve? Was he really that strong, or was he just super fucking annoying? You had no idea, no one ever had any idea when it came to Satoru Gojo. 

The beautiful day finally came to an end and you got back to your apartment, collapsing onto your couch. Most jujutsu sorcerers had house provided to them by their clans, but that was not your case. Your neighbors thought you were a teacher at some religious school deep in the country side. It was the best excuse you could come up with for being gone for practically days at a time. Maybe the only bus to the train station broke down or something, any old excuse like that in order to keep the nosy (and mostly elderly) fellow tennents off your back.

“Fuck my life…” You groaned, placing your head in your hands as you stumbled over to your cozy bedroom, it’s warm environment almost giving you a hug in its own way. You slipped into your pajamas and curled up under the covers, setting your alarm on your phone for the next morning. Just as you were about to close your eyes, your phone started to buzz. At first it was just a single vibration, probably a text from your mother or something. But the buzzes and vibrations kept coming until your phone was practically moving itself off the bed.

You groaned in annoyance and turned over, checking the notification center to see who the hell had the nerve to text you nine times in a row. And sure enough, sporting the contact photo of a .5 that he took of himself when he stole your phone that one time, Satoru fucking Gojo had spam texted you at 11:41PM.

“What the actual hell?” You whispered, unlocking your phone to see what could possibly be this important. Nothing was ever this important past 10PM, not even if your apartment building was on fucking fire.

The messages plagued your screen, his smirking face in the contact photo made you even more angry. And yet a faint blush found itself creeping up against your face. Maybe it was the sheer excitement of a man texting you at night, or maybe deep down you actually liked Gojo. You smacked yourself lightly on the cheek, trying to erase that thought from your sleep-ridden mind.

Worst person alive: heyyyy

Worst person alive: r u up???

Worst person alive: theres no way u actually went to bed, omg ur such a grandma

Worst person alive: im bored talk to me

Worst person alive: megumi wont answer my texts :(( i think he hates me

Worst person alive: i know ur awake, u were active three minutes ago on insta

Worst person alive: ik u blocked me on their but jokes on u i have 5 other accounts

Worst person alive: pls pls pls pls talk to me im dying over here princess

Worst person alive: btw yaga assigned us on a mission tmrw mwah

Your eyed widened at the last message, your hands gripped the phone with white-knuckle strength. “Fucker!” You yelled, turning off your phone before melting under the covers. Why did Yaga have to do this to you? You and Gojo together was torture enough, but now you had to do actual work with each other? Gojo was grossly incompetent at anything that didn’t involve exorcising cursed spirits. 

You sighed and closed your eyes, silently praying that a curse would somehow break into your bedroom and murder you right then and there. But unfortuanly, you woke up to your alarm blaring in your ear the next morning.

Gojo and yourself were sat in Yaga’s office, Gojo smirking at you the entire time. You blushed under his gaze, hands gripping the edges of your seat as you waited for Yaga to tell you what the assignment was. Was Yaga being late on purpose just to mess with you? Did you manage to piss him off somehow? A million questions were flying through your mind and there was no answer in sight. 

“I saw you read my messages princess.” Gojo finally spoke, leaning forward. He was significantly taller over you, his towering muscular frame intimating you. “Why didn’t you respond? I was really bored. It’s rude to ignore your friends.” He spoke, that same sticky and syrupy voice coming back to haunt you.

“Maybe that’s because we aren’t friends, Gojo.” You scoffed, flipping your hair behind your back. “Could you please just shut up until Yaga gets here? If I have to listen to you mock me again I might actually explode.” Sighing, you placed your face in your hands.

“Actually,” Gojo purred, getting up from his seat only to sit down in Yaga’s velvet office chair. “Yaga doesn’t have a mission for us, princess.” He kicked his feet up on the desk, taking off his blindfold. His snowy white hair fell into a beautiful mess, with his painfully gorgeous blue eyes lighting up his already hellishly handsome face.

You looked up from your hands to raise an eyebrow, your face immediately turning a bright red upon seeing Gojo without his signature blindfold. “I’m sorry, what? I don’t follow.”

Gojo tutted and threw the black fabric onto your lap, his eyes still staring at your blushing face. Gojo found it simply adorable how you would always get so flustered, so annoyed in his presence. How you would always deny being attracted to him, how you swore up and down that he was put on this Earth to make your life a living hell. But he noticed that you would always squeeze your thighs together when he spoke. It was precious, really. How you thought you could hide your painfully obvious desire for him.

“Ae you hard of hearing or something, princess?” Gojo purred, leaning forward to he could grab onto the collar of your navy blue work uniform. With just a snap of his wrists his face was mere centimeters away from your own, the tips of your noses were pressed up against each other so perfectly. You felt your breathing quicken, the atmosphere in Yaga’s office so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. “I said that Yaga never gave us a fucking mission. I just wanted to see you again.” He breathed out, his steaming air causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. His grip on your collar tighten, his eyes were filled with desire. Desire for you that’s long overdue to be broken.

Your brows furrowed at you gripped onto his wrist, trying your best to pry his hand away from your uniform collar. Twisting and turning his wrist every which way turned out ot be fruitless, causing you to grow ever more angry and flustered. Fuck Gojo and his superhuman abilities, fuck him for being the strongest. 

Instead, your hand came flying at his face. Your palm collided with his flesh, the cold stinging sensation snapping Gojo out of his lustful trance. His spare hand crept onto his cheek, rubbing the mark softly. You gulped, nervous to see how the strongest jujutsu sorcerer would react to getting slapped across the face by a grade two. 

He smirked and threw his head back slightly, a dark chuckle emitting from his throat. He looked back down at you, his grip on your collar so strong that you started to choke. “God, I was hoping you would fucking do that.” 

In an instant his lips were on yours, roughly clashing against each other. It took every fiber of his being to not rip all your clothes off right then and there, to bend you over Yaga’s desk and fuck you senseless. Oh how long Gojo had waited to feel your plump lips being ravaged by his own, and how deliciously rewarding it was to play the long game. Finally your lips were melding perfectly with each other, his tongue picking up just the faintest taste of peach chapstick. 

Gojo pulled away from the kiss after about a minute, a thick strand of saliva connecting your lips. He sighed in pleasue as his eye landed on your flustered face, your mouth still agape like a slut.

“So fucking pretty like this,” he muttered, stepping out from behind the desk. He pulled you out of your chair and trapped you against the wall, his muscular torso being so easily felt under the think fabric of the uniforms the school provided. “Been wanting to kiss you since forever, y’know.” He mumbled, dragging his callosued hands up and down the clothed snatches of your wasit. “Your lips taste even better than I imaged, sweetness.”

You blushed at his sultry words, the faint glim in his ocean blue eyes only making your knees evern weaker. Slowly but carefully, your arms wrapped themselves around his broad shoulders. “You’re still on my shitlist,” you muttered, standing on the tips of your toes to meet his eyeline.

“And you’re as stubborn as ever, princess.” Gojo purred picking you up by the bottoms of your thighs, Your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, making it look like a scene straight out of a movie. “Such a pretty mouth, you gonna let me fuck it?” He whispered, rubbing circled on your bare thighs. The modest jujutsu skirt you wore covered your legs quite nicely, so you never really felt the need to wear tights. And that drove Gojo fucking wild.

“Depends, what’s in it for me?” You smirked, tugging lightly on the baby hairs at the back of his head. Gojo hissed in pleasure, kind of proud that you were being equally as bratty to him as he was to you. 

“The best fuck you’ll ever get, plus some more.” Gojo let go of your thighs, letting you drop onto your knees. You looked up at him, gulping in anticipation as you saw the imprint of his throbbing erection covered by his pants. “You gotta get me prepared first, princess. Or else I might not fuck that pussy as good, got it?” His voice was dripping with desire for you as his expert hands pulled down his pants, tossing them aside along with his boxers. His cock tapped against his shirt, leaving the smallest precum stain.

You bit down on your lip at the sight of his cock, moving yourself foreward. Ever so carefully, your right hand gripping onto the base of his cock. Tongue falling out of your mouth, you took his cock in your wet cavern slowly, your cheeks hollowing out to accommodate his girth and length.

“Shit princess, just like that. Yeah, I knew you would be good at suckin’ dick.” Gojo praised, offering you a slanted smile as your hands stroked what your mouth couldn’t fit. His large hand tangled itself into your messy hair, tugging on the roots ever so gently. His hips bucked into your mouth ever so slowly, almost painfully slow. He treated you like you were so fragile, sharp contrast to when he had you pinned against the wall with his tongue shoved down your throat.

He groaned in pleasure as his cock his the back of his throat, his hips driving his member down your throat even faster. His grip on your hair tighten, causing a small pool of tears to well in the corner of your eye. A singular droplet ran down your pretty little face, which Gojo thought was just the cutest little thing.

“Oh, is my princess crying? What, my dick to big for your slutty little mouth?” His hips stopped snapping into your face, pulling your mouth off of his member slowly. “Well, if you can’t handle my dick in your mouth,” He grabbed your arm, throwing you against the desk. His pushed you down so your face was against the hard mahogany wood, with your ass up and on display for Gojo to smack. “Then maybe your pretty pussy will be able to handle me, hm?”

He shoved your skirt above your ass, the blue material bunching the divet in your waist. His hand ran over your soaked panties, shoving them aside to expose your soaked core to the cold office air. “So pretty f’me…” Gojo mumbled, gathering up some of your slick on his thumb and popping it inside of his mouth. “Delicious too, maybe you’ll be my dinner one day. Wouldn’t you like that, princess?” He teased, his hand cracking against the supple flesh of your perfect ass.

“Fuck!” you cried out, your hands gripping onto the wooden desk for dear life. You grew increasingly frustrated, especially knowing that Gojo was taking immense pleasure in making you wait tt get fucked. “Dammit Gojo, just fuck me already!” You demanded, your eyes being slightly covered by your mess of hair falling in front of them. 

He smacked his hand across your ass again, alighting his cock with your sobbing entrance. “You sure got a whole lotta attitude, princess.” He purred, teasing your hole with his mushroom head. “I’ll be sure to fuck it outta you, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

He shoved his cock inside of you, hissing as your tight walls enveloped his member. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, having never experienced someone as big or as girthy inside of you. Sure, you had slept around before but this time he might actually make you cum. You wouldn’t have to fake an orgasm just for it to end.

“Shit, Gojo!” You screamed, lifting your head up from the desk to meet his gaze from behind. “Y-you’re too fuckin’ big, you know that?”

Gojo smirked and started to slowly thrust himself in and out of your weeping cunt, the sound of his groans mixing with your moans of pleasure filling the chilly office. “God, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Squeezing me already, princess? Good fuckin’ slut.” He grunted, pulling your hair back so your neck was against his mouth. His hips were now snapping furiously at your ass, his balls clapping against the skin. “You won’t mind if I give you a little mark, right? Gotta make sure you remember being bent over like this, pretty thing.”

His sharp teeth bit down onto your neck, sucking a nasty purple circle right where your jugular would be. The stimulation was utterly overwhelming, your mouth was agape and your throat was starting to hurt from all your cries. “Fuck, such a good slut for me.”

Gojo’s rough and callosued hands reached under your top to grope one of your tits, his fingers pinching and rubbing your nipple under the thin fabric. He could feel your orgasm was fast approaching the way you squeezed onto his cock, almost like your body was trying to suck him in even deeper inside of you. “Gojo, fuck! T-Too fucking handsy!” You managed to moan out, your brain slowly starting to turn to mush as the coil in your belly threatened to snap at any minte. “Fuck, gonna fucking cum!”

Gojo smirked and smacked your ass once more, slipping his hand from behind you to rub on your sensitive clit. “Cum all over this cock baby, f-fuck. Be a good fucking girl.” He demanded in your ear, his fingers now furiously rubbing themselves on your clit while his cock hit every place it needed to.

With a wanton gasp you threw your head back onto his shoulders, your orgasm washing over you like tsunami or a tidal wave. Wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over your every nerve, your eyes feeling fuzzy as you swore you could see stars.

“Fuck, holy fuck! Gojo, oh my fucking God!” you sobbed, your bottom lip trembling as you came down from your high. Gojo sighed and began to kiss your neck gently, his thrusts becoming faster and desperate as he felt his own euphoria approaching.

“Shit, gonna cum princess. Lemme cum inside of you, yeah? God you’re so fucking warm and tight, fuck!” He moaned into your neck, the movement of his hips becoming staggering and sloppy as his hot ropes of sticky cum coated your insides, filling you up so nicely. “F-fuck, oh my god…”

Gojo pulled out of you, smirking to himself as he saw his cum leak from your sloppy pussy. “Fucking amazing, princess.” He bent down to pick up his boxers and pants, putting them on quickly. 

You got up from leaning over the desk and turned around, your face flushed and your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Your hands still gripping onto the table, your pretty lips slightly agape. “Holy shit…I think that was the best sex I’ve ever fucking had.” You breathed out, brushing the sweaty babyhairs out of your face.

Gojo smiled and bent down slightly, kissing your nose with a gentleness that was the complete opposite of how he fucked you. “I’ve been wanting to do that sicne I met you, you know.” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, adjusting your stretched-out shirt collar. “Stop lying, you already fucked me. No need to lie anymore, Gojo.”

He frowned and grabbed onto your hand, his thumb carefully rubbing onto the back of it. “I’m not lying, you know.”

Raising an eyebrow you looked into his blue eyes, curious as to why there wasn’t a hint of deception swirling around in his oceans of blue. “Gojo…are you being serious?” You whispered, a blush once again covering your face. It wasn’t a blush of desire but a blush of shyness, like you were sixteen years old and just got confessed to.

“Satoru,” he spoke, bringing your hand to cup his pale face. “Call me Satoru, please.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes once more, your hand gently petting his flushed face. You took a step towards him, allowing Gojo to wrap his other hand around your waist. You two held each other in Yaga’s office, the scent of sex and passionate still filling up the otherwise stiff air.

“What are you gonna call me then, Satoru?” You softly spoke, standing on the tips of your toes so your lips were hovering against his once more. Gojo offered you a gentle smile, pecking your lips tenderly.

“I’m gonna call you mine.”

[yandere-wishes]

⭒ㅤׂ ɪ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇㅤׂ ⭒

⭒ㅤ𓈒 Yandere!WuWa! Men x Reader 𓈒 ⭒

゜⌒ヽ❥ Dark Romance

°•❃•°

꒷꒦꒷Scar | 伤痕

Your fear tastes like nectar, thick and sweet, and sacrilegious. Scar gulps down your apprehension in starving strides. Cradling the burn between his teeth, savoring the sensation of the embers coiling and seething inside his veins. You're too perfect, thrashing underneath him, caged and defiant his little lost lamb. trying to flee, begging for freedom like a fever dream high. He licks your iridescent tears with zealous maniacal jubilation. Relishing in the soft warm flesh of your cheek marinated in your woe. He wants to taste them every day, force them from your pretty petrified eyes with scorching kisses and touches that shatter your very bones.

Scar's talons etch jagged filigrees across your body engraving terrors and torments all parodying "I love you". But he can't love, not really, love is too gentle too vain, he needs to consume, to feel the reverberations trapped between your bones. Scar's kisses burn wakes down your spine, slipping between the vertebras. Hollowing out your essence piece by piece, his hunger knows no bonds, refusing to dwindle until he's bled every delicious part of you dry. Until he feels your heart between his teeth.

˚✶˚Jiyan | 忌炎

You trace his markings, nails gliding gingerly through the jagged crystals of his tacet mark. He kisses the hollow of your palm, basking in the sweet giggle you gift him. You're his precious treasure, a sweet gem imported from the silk roads themselves. He'd do anything to keep you safe binding your soul to his tattered one. Jiyan is the Qingloong that everyone looks up to, the indestructible pillar of Jinzhou. And yet a simple smile from you is all it takes to shatter his illusion of strength.

Between patients, his mother would sometimes grace him with fables about Dragons, not Loong, not the creature their nation worshiped but Dragons monsters from the western nations. She'd tell him How they hoarded exotic treasures from all corners of the world. Growing powerful in the light of other's envy. They did anything to protect their gold coins and pearl necklaces, kill, and maim in the name of obsession. Back then he'd found such creatures disgusting, dubbed it blasphemy to even mention them in the same breath as the deific Loong. Now he thinks he's more dragon than Loong. Hoarding you away keeping you only to himself. Promising to maul any who try to rob him of your sweet kisses and angelic laughter.

𒆜Calcharo | 卡卡罗

You come prepackaged with a soft smile and a docile heart. Calcharo thinks it's all from the privilege of having lived a satisfactory life. Cherished, overfed, protected. All the things stripped of him so young. He shouldn't be jealous though, after all, he has the complacency to thank for turning his darling into such an ideal doll. Jejune and helpless, shivering under his cold touch. He harbors you between his thighs, enjoying the way your pearl-kissed dress pools on the floor. An ivory testament to the innocence he so craves. Calcharo's calloused fingers entrap the hollow of your hips pulling you harshly against him, he can't get enough of you. His lips kiss the dip of your neck nose bumping the back of your ear. Enraptured by the floral scent of your perfume.

You tried to run again today, flee when he'd been out escorting a merchant across the desert terrain. His men had caught you, binded you all pretty and left you in his chamber. He flashes you a crooked smile upon entry. Watching as you struggle and glare knowing damn well it won't change a thing. "Really little rabbit? I thought we had ceased playing such foolish games." He grasps your chin pulling you closer, your knees slide across the wooden floor scuffing from the friction. His cold lips trace your own as he whispers degradations laced with romance. Calcharo leans down for the kill, a lethal crushing kiss. Trapping your lips and engulfing your essence. Laughing when you're foolish enough to return the favor. You shiver and moan and it takes every bit of willpower not to devour you right then and there.

☄Mortefi | 莫特斐

The universe reverberates to a familiar tune when he first sees you. Singing a melody he swears he's heard each night when he lays his wry head to rest. What kind of creature are you? A cacophony of starsongs and golden echoes. He longs to touch you, to permit his flames to traverse your body searing you until you shine with the purity you all so deserve. He loses himself in the melody of your voice, the lost tune of a fading nova. Something too ethereal to be of this crude world.

Mortefi fancies himself a scientist and takes utmost pride in the way his mind curves around a problem. Floating through the riddles seeking answers in the dark. He can fix anything, create anything. And yet you stand before him defiant of his understanding. Mortefi grabs you by the collar, cradling a rogue sun within his palms, kissing its rays trying to grasp comprehension between his teeth and swallow it whole. It doesn't work by the end of the kiss you are still an anomaly and he is still a scientist wearing the heart as some hapless love-struck schoolboy. The need to understand you grows claws tearing at his mind, desperation pierces his throat whenever he catches a mere glimpse of you. He needs to understand, to tear you open and choke your secrets.

҉　Aalto | 秋水

Aalto's fingers weave through your hair, silk traversing through bone and flesh, flowing free in the aero he produces subconsciously. He cradles you delicately in his arms, trying his best to ignore the sour frown etched upon your face. He creates fables, spinning stories out of silk and air trying to win your interest with tales of stray sheep and fallen stars. Of lost treasures on the jade road and little girls with fire flowing through their veins. Your frown doesn't falter.

He kisses you again, and again and again. Trying to pry out adoration and devotion from between your bones. He struggles, whining about detesting and freedom. It sounds so trivial especially when he can give you everything your heart desires. He can't let you go, not when his very essence aches to feel you between his arms. Aalto wonders what stories he must make to erase that blood-curdling frown of yours. What information does he need to lay out your feet for you to grace his lips with your own? A lover's kiss, not whatever this is. I love you he whispers, he doubts you even care.

Let me know what you think. Should I do yandere Jiyan x reader x Yandere Calcharo next? ~💜