#cowgirl ember | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

auragasmics · 3 months

Text

HIS PATIENCE IS MY VIRTUE!

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ synopsis! with work piling up and stress reaching its boiling point, Nanami needs a break. And when his pretty assistant suggests a trip up to Kyoto for the hot springs, he’s taking the chance to spoil you, love you, and turn his 3-year spout of patience into your virtue!

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ pairings! assistant!fem!reader x sex therapist!nanami kento

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ cw! 17.3k, pwp, age gap (reader is 26, nanami is 28), use of petnames, use of alcohol, splashes of fluff, (if you squint), solo play (male), voice kink, features a conversation with gojo satoru, cumshot,, handjob, oral(f.receiving), hand job, p in v, unprotected, sensation play(heavy), biting, doggystyle, prone bone, cowgirl, slow sex, needy!nanami, Nanami has a sir kink, implied aftercare

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ xoxo, chris! yessss it’s done! 17.3k of filth and it’s all dedicated to my man! thanks to my lovely friend and beta-reader @n3vr-f0und ! this could not have been possible without you! this goes out to all the nanami girlies, i love our man!

tags: @lalunanymph @4-leafed

He’s asleep again.

Through the slivered crack of his office, your eyes dwell upon Nanami’s slumbering form, casted beneath the glowing embers of daylight. He relied on his folded arms for a makeshift pillow, uncaring of the tousled golden strands of hair that lay waste about the top of the waxy oak desk.

He’s definitely sleeping—and has been for a while.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh, the breath fueled by concern. You could’ve warned him every morning at the start of the workday and every night right before rush hour began, during rush hour, but he never listened.

For the three years you’ve been under his employment, there was always a single trend that never seems to hint at change: Nanami never knows what exhaustion is until he’s caught in its grasp with heavy eyelids and a slack jaw of yawns.

And there’s one extra detail you know about Nanami is that he hates working overtime—but does it anyway.

Originally when you first joined his side, you thought the job of a sex therapist was an easier task than most; he’d have an easy job; listening and finding a solution for others. After just one day of work with him, such a brazen thought was put to rest. Since that day, you’ve rewritten a new script in your mind, one free of judgment and assumption, because in turn, the job of a sex therapist was not easy.

And for a sex therapist like Nanami who lacked compassion for himself, empathy and compassion for his clients claimed all his time. His days were spent in appointments and his nights were spent in books, nose-deep in pages of delegated knowledge searching for a solution. That was the role Nanami took on, the role of being a compassionate problem solver.

Compassion comes at a price, and his compassion costs him every ounce of his livelihood. Taking on a role that would reap no inherent benefits meant Nanami was always giving from an empty cup, using his blood, sweat, and tears to refill every drop he’d given away.

He rebukes his efforts, truly. Yet, such innate dislike had never once interfered with his determination.

It’s written all over his face once he’s done with a meeting, it’s draining work. It drains him of all his physical, emotional, and psychological energy, but he still wears a smile as a mask in time for the next session.

If eyes can tell a story, then Nanami’s oak brown hues scream out a soliloquy that falls on deaf ears. Inside bleeds out and his story tells of a man who wishes to give up his life for the mundane. To spend his days basking beneath the sun, using the purest white sands as a mattress for his dream life.

Such a shame that the man’s only wish has yet come to pass.

For now, he’s come to terms with it, filling the pit of ever-growing resentment with work.

It’s exactly why he’d be in and out of meetings with clients, spending late nights on the phone. Some days you even come into work to find him asleep in his office with papers scattered about his desk.

His philosophy was simple, if he couldn’t enjoy the deepest desire to the fullest, the least he could do was help those struggling with the same reality.

But as you watch him from the sidelines, a question plaques your mind: when will it end?

It’s redundant, but the question puzzles you every day. It rules over your mind even now as you scan over his sleeping figure. Standing along the door’s trim, you couldn’t help but admire how precious Nanami appears under such temperate conditions.

Quiet steps deliver you just inches from him, granting you to play the role of a jury to a trial of a self-committed crime.

Yet, the criminal in question glows beneath the ebbing light, his skin drinking in the rich hues of pink, gold, orange, and purple. His uniform binds him to his crime, his white sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his black slacks melding within his leather seat.

Though he committed a crime, there’s one detail that turns this prisoner into a charmer; and that’s the way he wears sleeps. The heft of his slumber can be narrowed to a point, down to his pursed lips, such pink velvety plush begging for a kiss of life.

Pity stains your heart like ink to a scroll, and it’s bleeding through in a passing heat. No fiber in your being could allow you to leave him alone, not when nothing but four lonesome walls and pestering neighbors await you.

Pity carries a weight over its residents, and you were no different. It’s because of how heavy pity is that your hand breaks away from your side, reaching out to curl a loose lock of blonde strands around your finger. Even his hair’s soft, lacing around your skin like the finest silk. Now that you've captured a clearer picture of him, you can’t help softening your gaze over Nanami.

Was Nanami always this attractive? Even in his sleep, he possesses skills to lure you into a trance. Such smooth fair skin, a sculpted jaw clenched in sleep, his cheekbones perched high, and the dark rings beneath his eyes add a shameful appeal to him.

Trailing along his form, you’re stuck at how the burly swell of his arms tests his white dress shirt, the cotton fabric choking at the seams. His shirt just barely hides his broad shoulders, carrying the careful cuts of muscle that rise with every breath he takes.

“If only you would share your stress with me, Nanami,” the words whispered out into the tepid air.

Your hand falls from his distressed bed of hair, the back of your hand dusting past the fishnet stockings beneath your red cocktail dress. The time’s come to wake him up….and hope that he’s as docile as ever.

A deep breath takes you far, your hand resting along his shoulder. It’s rigid, thick muscles that refuse to conform to your touch. The lump in your throat bloats up and you ease his shoulder to rock beneath your hand.

“...Nanami…Nanami, sir…,” you coo, “You’ve gotta wake up. I’m sure this desk isn’t as comfy as your bed.”

A low grumble acts as a response, Nanami shuffling about his makeshift pillow. His hands hide beneath his cheek, his laxed palms curling up into loose fists as he struggles to sit up.

As a courtesy—or more so out of nervousness; you step away from him with your hands behind your back, allowing Nanami to grasp his hazy surroundings alone.

“Wha…What happened?” He rasps lowly, his words served with sleep’s baritone curl.

“Um...Sir?”

“Huh? Oh, did I fall asleep here again? That’s the third time this–hold on…” Nanami trails off, his raspy voice breaking through the air.

He’s hazy and those clouded hazel hues trickle onto you as he shifts towards you, his black leather chair swiveling under him.

“Oh…what’re you still doing here? It’s way past the end of your shift, Sweetheart.”

Nanami watches you bite at that delicate lip of yours, supple plush taking on the jagged impressions. That mindless tick melds into a blooming pout, a decoy for the words that toss his groggy mind off guard.

“Nanami, sir, I can��t watch you do this to yourself anymore!”

He’s dumbfounded, a rare state for him, but only you alone manage to pull Nanami into a place of confusion. A hand of his drifts to the back of his neck, itching at the sparse hairs of his undercut, trying to make sense of your outburst.

“And what exactly am I doing to myself?”

“This!” You point to his body, “This, in fact, is the third time this week you’ve slept in your office. And it’s been at least ten times this month! You’re tired, and you need a real break.”

Gawking is all Nanami can do. It comes at the price of a complete loss for words, but in some strange way, he’s intrigued by your outcry. Him needing a break? Of course, he needed a break, but he’s interested to hear what you perceive to be this “break”.

“A vacation is what you think I need?”

“I know a vacation is what you need…but I can’t force it on you,” you sigh, taking wandering steps that land you into the grand armchair sitting opposite to him.

With you seated before him, Nanami shudders beneath the stress of containing himself.

Oh, he hates it when you get mad—but loves it all at the same time. It’s a parallel that consumes him, hating how anger sews along your precious features—while relishing it all the same.

It’s the woe of taking every word you say seriously while admiring those plump lips bearing a firm purse and your finely plucked brows knit a harsh crease into your face.

And when you do get upset—whether it be at a client, the printer…or in rare cases, him. And when you get like this at him, he knows that a lecture can’t be too far off.

“Sir, you’ve got to take better care of yourself! You can hide it from the clients, but you can’t hide it from me. But…I think I have a solution!”

“Which is?” He contemplates with a brow quirked.

Resting his chin along the back of his knuckles, Nanami relies on the strength of his propped arm for support as he delves into your mind.

He knows the expression he’s giving isn’t kind—dull eyes that reek of disinterest. And all the while, maybe it is disinterest because he’s all too aware of what he needs. But your intentions are pure, that much he knows. In the face of pure intentions, who was he to deny your presentation?

You drop your attention to Nanami’s desk, prompting him to follow suit. He studies your manicured finger carefully dragging along the wide calendar laid atop the waxy surface.

“This weekend from Friday to Sunday, you’ll be all free! I know you like to have at least one client a day, but I pushed some days around and managed to—”

“You were planning this…weren’t you?” Nanami hints sharply, his lungs prepping to bore a longing sigh.

To feign innocence, you shrug your shoulders. You hide your motives well, but the small smile around your eyes tells Nanami all he needs to know.

“No comment, buuut, why not take advantage of this?”

Out comes that sigh brewing in his chest. “All right…What do you recommend I do with all the magical free time? Pick up a hobby? Start a garden? Tell me, Darling.”

Nanami’s sights carry to your own, his eyes pivoting over your face deep in thought. Something about you working so hard on his behalf brings about a warmth to flutter in Nanami’s chest. As to how he’s been blessed with you is a mystery he thanks the heavens for every day. And you look so cut–

“Got it!” you snap, “Onsen. I think you need an onsen for the entire weekend. The hot water and minerals will do your body, mind, and spirit justice!”

Nanami tilts his head at the thought, “Hmm, the onsen? Like out in Kyoto?”

“Mhm, I hear those are really nice!”

“Hm, okay then…”

Nanami swiftly dips into his back pocket for his wallet. He flips the thick bundle of leather open, pinching at his card with a single digit and his thumb.

He places a matte black card in front of you, rattling off the steps to make your wish come true. “Go ahead and book the room and two tickets for the train tomorrow at nine, and—”

“Hold on, hold on! Are you inviting me to come along too?”

Nanami merely shrugs at your sweet naivete, “Naturally. I’m sure you’d want to come along too…unless I’m stepping over a boundary. I never asked if you had prior engagements or even a partner at home. But…if you could join me, I think the break would be good for you too.”

Your hands wave the infamous white flag of surrender, shooting down Nanami’s suggestions with a flustered chuckle, “Oh no no…just me at home! But um…yeah, I’ve never been to one. I’d love to come along. But for tomorrow…I’d have to start planning right away!”

“We could…do it together. I have my laptop right in my bag,” his shoulder nudging towards the side of his desk. “I know it’s last minute, so the least I could do is offer some help.”

Nanami struggles to hide the grin that teases his lips when you agree, taming his excitement with a guttural grunt of his throat.

Three whole days with you, the pretty assistant he’s been plotting on since the day he hired you.

As rambles fall from your mouth, Nanami’s absorbed into thoughts of you, while supporting your thoughts with nods and gentle hums. He hasn’t been so outward with his growing affection towards you at all, that simply wasn’t his style.

But has he tried?

Of course, by taking you out to high-class restaurants for lunch and dinner, buying you flowers every week (and blaming it on some client with a crush for you), he’s even found a way to secretly link your account to his so that not a dollar of your hard-earned money would enter the cruel economy. Why if Nanami could go as far as to pay your rent, he’d do it without any questions asked.

And now he has the chance to take you out of the city for three whole days?

Nanami wasn’t sparing a single penny, not when it came to booking that private villa with its own hot spring bath, the best seats on the bullet train, and even planning some excursions to explore Kyoto.

“…Nanami…Sir?”

The call of his name brings him back into the present and on your face wearing a giddy grin.

“Mm…so sorry, is everything alright?”

“Yup! We’re all set for this weekend!” you cheer, clapping your hands softly at the confirmation prompt on the laptop on the screen.

“Oh good! Well then, let’s break for tonight! Be at the station by eight-thirty, okay?” Nanami passing on a stern stare to you.

“I got it, but that’s so early!”

“It’s a two-and-a-half-hour ride, we’ll be getting there right around lunch and with plenty of daylight to spare. Stop complaining and go home…I’ll see you tomorrow,” Nanami huffs out.

His eyes follow you as you lazily pull yourself out of the chair, your hands smoothing down the back of your dress. The steps you take are slow and saucy, leaving Nanami to bite down on his bottom lip.

Such a tease and you weren’t doing it on purpose. You’re just yourself and that’s exactly what Nanami can’t get enough of.

You turn back to Nanami when you pull the door just enough to slip your body through, your lips curling into a fine smile.

“Have a good night…Sir. See you tomorrow!”

“Have a g-good…Have a good night!” Nanami rushes out, giving you a limp wave before the shutting door leaves him alone with his thoughts.

An exhausted sigh rips out from his chest as he leans back into his chair, his hand racing to palm his face.

And in between the gaps of his thick fingers, Nanami’s eyes darted down to a familiar but embarrassing scene.

His cock twitching in his pants.

He couldn’t help it, hearing his name matched with the weighty title of sir sent his mind on a rampage. You calling him sir? And it just so happens to sound so melodic rolling off your tongue?

It already wasn’t normal for someone in his position to be head over heels for his assistant—but he was. It wasn’t normal for Nanami to give in to such silly whims—but he’s going to.

Before thinking it over, Nanami’s hand drops from his face and down to his lap, squeezing at the curious curve rising beneath the black fabric of his slacks.

“...maybe just one can’t hurt…right?”

A rhetorical question, he’s already tugging at the tiny zipper, pulling the slip of metal down its jagged path to its post. He switches over to fiddling with his pants button, yanking the thin button through its slit and tugging his pants down his legs with his briefs in tow.

There’s a risk that some of those sinful moans will evade his resolve; it’s just his luck that his dress shirt’s objecting to the view of everything past his waist. Yanking the shirt up towards his awaiting mouth, Nanami bites down on the white cotton as hard as he can.

He doesn’t hesitate to envelop his length in a fist, strumming up and down all eight inches of his pudgy tanned girth. It’s been a while but Nanami still knows what gets him going—a couple squeezes, focusing on his sweet spot, tracing that one swollen vein ruched along the heavy underside of his cock, all the turning cogs that bring him to ruin.

As he’s taking the time to swipe at the weeping bellhead, a thought pops into his head that he can’t ignore.

He can’t help but wonder what would you think of his dick? A sinfully precarious thought, he knows, but that doesn’t mean he can’t think about it nonetheless.

He’s no stranger to the concept either. Especially when he takes to the bars some evenings, his ears pick up all the talk of drunk girls gossiping about how “pretty” their boyfriends’ dicks are. It’s so vulgar then but now…he’s craving to hear your thoughts more than anything.

What would you have to say about his size, his length, the way his cock sits with a curve that defies gravity? Suddenly, he’s choreographing a scene in his head, picturing you on your knees, patiently waiting for him to rip down his briefs and expose himself to you.

At the thought, he’s picking up a slow pace. His taut fist lazily drags up his shaft and down to the base, utilizing a deathly grip that sends shivers down his spine.

Just for this special occasion, he pulls his shirt from his clenched teeth for a moment to curl over his thighs. Through the pucker of his lips, Nanami sends a thick spool of spit to dance over the flushed head of his cock, the soapy pool dribbling down his length.

His hand meets the trail of spit gradually, his thumb back to swiping along his now glossy underside.

“Oh fuck…” he hisses, writhing in his seat at the new sensation claiming his being. Just stroking himself was decent but stroking himself when he’s dripping like this makes for a new cadence to be found.

Why, it’s so much better that he’s eagerly picking up the pace, his fist sent to swivel up and down his endlessly hardening cock, squeezing at the tip whenever he saw fit.

His eyes risk exiting the scene, fluttering back with the mean strides he weaves. Just to his dismay, a flickering light pairs annoyingly well with the vibrations of a call cursed Nanami’s chance at relief.

He usually isn’t this careless, picking up the phone call without identifying the caller.

“Hello?” He drones into the microphone.

And it’s just his luck that it’s you.

“Hi, Sir! I had a question…”

Sir. Three letters, a single syllable, and the key to Nanami’s lustful demise. If only you knew the filthy hold that ghastly word held over him.

Just by hearing your sweet voice utter such a word, lawless pangs laid waste to Nanami’s fisted cock in sinful bliss. Was this some form of karmic reward? To hear your voice right before indulging in himself had to be some prize.

He’s forced to bite down the groans in his throat and trade his cries for coherent words. “Wha…What’s wrong, Sweetheart? You just left the office.”

“Oh, I know!” He can hear the pout in your voice, those plump lips pushed out for everyone but him to see. “It’s just that I was thinking…nine is just so early! And our tickets are good for all day. Can weeee leave just a little later?”

Nanami wants to listen to your pleas, he truly does, but he has to deal with something new befalling him: his body’s blatant betrayal.

His hand’s moving on its own, choking the fat girth of his cock all the way up to the tip, viciously squeezing the pink crown into nasty pale hues. Even at a time when he’s meant to be serious, his body’s adamant on milking itself dry. But must he be so slow yet unforgiving to himself like this?

“…Sir? Hello? Did the call drop?”

“No! I’m still here…” Nanami’s sudden outburst breaks the silence.

He pins the phone between his ear and shoulder, relying on his two hands to ease the relentless pit boiling at his core.

He had to find some way to get that sinful title rolling off your tongue again. So what could be brought up to keep your voice purring?

“So…since my suggestion is too early, what do you have in mind…Honey?”

“Glad you asked, Sir!”

One.

He’s pulling on his cock with a heavy drag, only for all his efforts to be spat out in glossy tears of precum. He’s making a mess of himself, the glassy rivulets trickling down his ghostly knuckles. He’s nowhere near the sacrums of nirvana but the display he’s forced to bear witness to hints at an early arrival.

“Uh-huh, go on.” he’s mumbling between gritted teeth. He’s losing temperance over his breaths.

“…and we’d still have plenty of time to explore the town, Sir.”

Two.

Now, Nanami’s getting the best of himself, purposely focusing on the head of his cock in short yet quick pumps. He’s extra keen on how sensitive he is too, pitting his thumb to curve right along the against his sweet spot.

He’s so close, shamefully closer than before. He knows that if he keeps on swiping at his underside like this, he’ll be binded to an explosive fate any minute.

“I know you like to be punctual but please, Sir?”

Oh…now you’re begging him. That’s three.

The thick gush of white splatters all over Nanami’s heaving stomach, his chiseled abs glistening in a hot, opal tinge.

Before he can even afford to echo the bliss ripping through his body, Nanami yanks the phone from his ear and presses the microphone against his chest to muffle any pathetic whimpers that slip him by.

The poor man, fair skin licked by a familiar fleeting heat and flinching in his seat by the cold wash that follows. He can’t remember the last time he’s let go like that, but the splattered canvas he’s reduced himself to tells him exactly what intuition would scream at him.

He’s just about ready to clean up but something feels…off. There’s just something he can’t put his finger on—

The phone call.

He panics, rushing to press the phone to his ear.

What was the last time you said? Something about please si—

“H-Hey, hey…you don’t have to beg me. Do me a favor, ‘kay? Just text me what time you want to meet at the station and I’ll be there.”

“Okay! Well then…get home safe and I’ll see you tomorrow…sir.”

Four.

It’s a punch in the gut this time because while he thought he’s been milked dry, Nanami’s eyes shoot apart at a bewildering sight: He’s still cumming.

His twitching cock’s forcing out a timid stream of white that’s dripping down his black slacks and running off onto the floor beneath him.

Nanami’s husky voice is washed in grief, the desire to cry out against the bliss of overstimulation dances on his tongue—but he has to send you off first.

With as mellow of a tone as he can rally, Nanami sends you his final thoughts.

“You too. Get home safe and see you tomorrow.”

The call ends and Nanami’s seething behind gritted teeth.

“Fuuuck,” he cursed to himself, his soiled hand still gripped around his twitching length. He wants to move, clean himself up, and get home to prepare for tomorrow, but fatigue’s already batting behind his eyelids.

Slouching back in his chair, Nanami finally allows his lungs to catch some air, his heaving chest stabilizing at last.

He’s a mess, the chair’s a mess, and even the floor too, but he isn’t focused on such miniscule details that nothing a good cleaning couldn’t take care of. Fresh off his orgasm, Nanami’s back to thinking about you and the weekend ahead.

The gears in his head are clicking and he’s thinking that maybe—just maybe, he’s earned the opportunity of a lifetime to do the one thing that’s been on his list for the last three years: to make you his girlfriend.

He can’t take it anymore, being in the office acting like he’s so standoffish when he truly wants nothing more than your presence. Your smile starts his day, your care for his well-being motivates him, and your kind words fill his heart in ways he can’t even describe.

He hasn’t regarded you as his assistant these past three years, more like his girlfriend who isn’t aware of his full-fledged commitment.

It’s so pathetic, he knows. But thanks to you, finally…Nanami’s goal was within reach. All he had to do was chase it.

Nanami’s sentiments only grew during the night and into the next day: Friday, the day he’s set to journey off with you.

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞

It’s been a blur since Nanami’s woke up—he’s been busy packing, cleaning his apartment, and standing in front of the mirror deciding which suit he should don for the day.

As the clock struck two, bags gathered by the door and a plain black suit with a white button-down dresses his body. He’s forgoing a tie for the weekend too, a few undone buttons present the dips of his collarbone prepared to bear the day’s breeze.

But there’s peril racing through Nanami’s mind, and has been since the previous night: he has no clue how to act or even go about courting you into being his girlfriend by the end of the hot springs trip. All he knows up to this point is subtlety—and subtlety is not an option in his arsenal.

The field of romance is a realm he’s barely pillaged through except for a few flings that led to nothing. You’re too different for his typical approach. He needs his message to come out clearer than glass, and for those kinds of results—he’s turning to one…annoying person for advice.

As Nanami reaches into his pocket, he can taste regret staining his tongue. And as he’s clicking onto that damned contact, he’s cursing himself for even thinking of turning to this man for advice.

And when the line connects, he’s kissing his teeth at the sound of his nickname falling from the lips of one…Gojo Satoru.

“Nanamin! You rarely call me these days! I miss you y’know,” the smooth voice trumpets out into his ear.

Huffing out the last bit of his pride, Nanami sighs into the phone, “Ah well…um, Gojo…I need some…help.”

“With?”

“A woman. My assistant, to be precise. We’re going out of town for the weekend and—”

“Nanami? Going on a trip? I must’ve died. And with a lady? I’m in an alternate universe now,” Gojo teases. “So, what do you need help with, I’m a little lost.”

Nanami drops himself on the edge of his sofa, the taupe leather dipping beneath his weight. He brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing at his tensed skin.

“She’s my assistant but…Gojo…I really want her to be my girlfriend. I have for the past three years. But my hints are too subtle and this is my best chance to finally be honest with her. I just don’t want to mess up. We’re going out to Kyoto

“Three years? You’ve always been patient, but this is extreme, Nanami. And the hot springs…you planning on—”

“Stop it right there. Just…tell me what you’d do.”

Nanami stares at his phone as the line goes silent, waiting for Gojo to say something—anything, really.

“Nanami, now I can’t help you too much, I’m not the relationship type. But just think about it like this, if you’ve had your eye on her for three years…and she’s been working with you for three years, obviously there’s something she likes about you too. This is so cliche and I’m cringing at the thought but…be your—”

“No.” Nanami immediately shuts down.

“Yes, and let me explain. Don’t try to be some guy you’re not, women pick up on that too easily, especially since you guys are going out on this trip. Be yourself and when the time comes, tell her how you’ve felt. And no matter what happens, just be proud that you were honest with yourself, okay?”

“Yeah…that works.”

“Good!” Gojo cheers, “Now go have fun and bring some condoms! You never know what’s—”

“Goodbye, Gojo,” and just like that, Nanami’s thumb isn't hesitant to end the call with a click.

“Just be myself…” he’s mulling over. While it’s sad to say that Nanami already knew that, he was hoping for something a little more out of Gojo. But himself is all he can be, then that’s exactly how he’ll act.

Slotting his phone back into his pocket, Nanami catches a glimpse of the time from the face of his watch.

3:00 P.M.

He had just an hour to himself before sitting on a two-hour train with you. But before that reality could be realised, He had a few errands to knock off his list.

The next time Nanami checks his watch, he’s leaning against a white tiled column in Tokyo station.

And the time is…3:45.

Those that surround are others caught up in their own lives—teenagers dressed in uniform, businessmen in their suits chasing the next transfer, and families strolling out the exits; all the people and not a single one knew the nerves that ambush his calm mind.

Not a single one knew of the havoc crashing through his body at the reality he’s set to enter. He did all he could to prepare, yet he can’t comprehend that he’s the last piece to the puzzle. Everything’s in line like dominoes, and all he had to do was strike the porcelain trail down.

And something about that, such ease, nothing about that sits right in Nanami’s mind.

Until the winning move falls right into his unexpecting lap.

“Oh! Nanami! Hi, sorry for making you wait! This station is just big, thankfully I just followed my gut and found you here,” the familiar voice rings in his ear.

He looks up to find your starry eyes already set on him from a few paces away. Nanami’s staring at you, hard. He’s never seen you in anything that wasn’t professional wear, that’s the excuse that plays in his mind over and over like a broken record.

You, in that silk yellow blouse that grants so much cleavage thanks to its low-cut neck. And the pleated light gray skirt around your waist is just so short, just one mishap and it’s all over.

Amidst all his leering, Nanami almost allows himself to forget manners. He meets you just halfway, wearing a soft smirk as he reaches for your bag.

“Here, allow me.”

“Oh! Thank you so much, Sir—"

It’s that damned word again. The letters rolling off your tongue bring a haunting memory from yesterday back into Nanami’s mind. He clenches the leather strap of your carry-on ever so tightly, gradually collecting himself before speaking.

“Hey Darling, you can drop the ‘sir’, okay? We’re on vacation after all. Nanami works just fine, or even…Kento works, if you want.”

He’s enlightened by the smile you put on your face, the peaks of your cheeks polished beneath the station’s fluorescent lights.

“Oh, sorry about that! ‘m just so used to the honorifics. But…alright then, Nanami. Is my bag too heavy for you?”

“No, no, it’s really not heavy at all. But we should get to the platform, though,” Nanami tokens with his head towards the destined path. “Are you ready?”

A kind smile grew across your glistening lips as you leaned towards Nanami, your hands softly clapping with approval. “Lead the way then, I’m right here.”

And Nanami does just that. He spins right on the heel of his shoe and walks with occupied hands, a tepid stare of his path ahead, his mind swirling with thoughts of you, and you at his side.

The station’s loud, loud with chatter, giggles, running feet, and warbling notifications on the intercom, and as all this goes on around him, Nanami can’t help but be absorbed into his own world. A world that included you.

Every so often, he steals a glance at you, his wistful eye watching you marvel at the station’s lively atmosphere. But all he can think about in his world is you; you and your beauty. He’s enamored at your mindless antics, the way your lashes flutter with each blink, the way your lips twist up–he’s even stuck over. But looking at you wasn’t enough, not when there’s this wall between you two.

It’s invisible to everyone but him. It’s one that he can look over, one that he can easily topple over with a sigh, but it’s one that he can’t fathom to crack without a proper plan.

The wall of silence—Nanami’s greatest ally turned enemy.

He isn’t used to this: sharing his intimate time like this. If he’s not holed up in his office, he’s out on his own tending to errands or matters of business. His usual standoffish method stands no chance today if he aims to woo you.

So, he went to the first thing you both had in common for the moment: emotion.

“So…” Nanami begins as he scours his mind for the words. “Are you…excited?”

You extend a kind look to him, soft eyes that pair well with your smile. “Of course I am! I’ve never been to a hot spring before, but I’ve heard so much about them and how good they’re supposed to be. I can’t wait for that hot water to hit my skin! How about you, Nanami?”

“Me?” He echoes with an arched brow. “Well…guess I’m excited too. Breaks are something I always want to take, but I never seem to act on them. The second I give it some thought, I’m already calculating missed opportunities and risks. I appreciate you pushing for this, Honey. Just make sure you have fun for me, okay?”

“For you?” Maybe you weren’t supposed to catch that slip-up, but being with Nanami like this was already fulfilling you beyond words. For him to be walking beside you, holding your luggage like it's nothing but a feather, it’s all too much for your mind to contain.

Moving dates around to have the weekend available worked in your favor. Three whole days tucked up beside Nanami, waking up with him, exploring Kyoto together, and even bathing together clouds your imagination with sinful thoughts.

He hides the full extent of his figure beneath suffocating suits, but you know all too well that Nanami’s physique is on par with the gods themselves. With his arms, back, and thighs banded with muscle, his developed chest taut with contour, and his big hands teeming with veins, your eyes were ready for it all.

And if the weekend ends with you bent over to help relieve all the pent-up stress he talks about in sessions, it would all be for a promising cause.

“Aww, Nanami…then let’s have fun together. But if I–Oh look, here we are! And the train’s boarding too, should we board? Looks like we’ll have to look for seats too,” your voice carrying a dull sigh.

“It’s fine, I think I can see two seats right there,” Nanami directs with a tilt of his chin.

He leads the way once more, urging you to board the train in front of him. The seats he took note of. You slip inside first, taking the window seat just as Nanami saw in his head.

Before he could join you, Nanami marks his spot with a small white plastic bag on his seat before loading the suitcases into the overhead bin and grabbing it again before sitting beside you.

Tugging the bag open, he reveals two sandwiches inside. “Oh, I stopped by the bakery on my way here and grabbed sandwiches. I um…I noticed what you like on yours, so…here you are.”

Trying to still his trembling grip, Nanami carefully places the tightly bundled sandwich into your awaiting hands.

“Aw, thank you so much! You really didn’t have to! I was just gonna wait until we got to Kyoto to eat!”

The smile that consumes your face is contagious, prompting Nanami to hide his own grin behind a clamped hand.

“It’s a long ride and I have a feeling you might have missed breakfast, so…hope you like it, Sweetheart.”

Nanami’s hope of gawking at you is cut short when you catch his leering sights.

The heat of embarrassment crackles beneath his skin, something he knows he can’t hide from you.

Rather, he adjusts himself, pushing his glasses up against the bridge of his nose with an excuse fumbling out from his lips.

“Sorry. I was just, uh–”

“Y’know, I was wondering,” you swiftly suggest a new subject, “…what do you look like without your glasses?”

Quirking up a brow, Nanami finds himself turning towards you amidst the cloud of blush claiming his cheeks. “Curious?”

“Very. But if they’re prescription, then please just ignore–”

“They’re not. They’ll more like sunglasses, but here, I have nothing to hide.”

At your implied request, Nanami’s glasses sit squeezed between his grip as he pulls them off his face. He’s met with your awestruck face—widened eyes and gaping lips.

“Scary, huh? I bet I look…uh…Sweetheart?”

“Nanami…you look so…different?”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “I’m gonna sound old here but you look so handsome! And your eyes, they’re like brown with a dash of green?! That’s so pretty!”

He’s handsome??? That’s a word Nanami never expected to hear fall from your lips. And you’re keeping those doe eyes pinned on him and only him too. Now how is he going to play this off? Hide his entire face behind his palm? Or maybe he should get up altogether and try to calm down…

“Oh…thank you, Darling. Um…I’m gonna go use the bathroom, alright? Be right back.”

Nanami doesn’t get the chance to hear you reply, not when he’s dead-set on returning to you. Just his luck that the bathroom is at the end of the cabin—and unoccupied.

He nearly throws himself inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Beneath his feet, he can feel the train’s latent drags over the tracks, officially beginning the long ride to Kyoto.

Nanami leans against the white sink, grasping the thick porcelain rim with a bruising grip. He’s met with the slender mirror tucked between the chamber’s corner, and just as he knew it—he’s red. From the tips of his ears down to his cheeks, it’s all pink…and seems to only grow richer.

That was…pathetic. A few words of kindness—no, a compliment from you about the qualities he already knows about himself places him in this sweating, breathless rut.

He’s pathetic. If that’s all it took for him to crack, how could he be allowed to think about sleeping in the same bed as you or even bathe with you? This was the place to shake out all those nerves, all those second thoughts haunting his mind, because after this moment, Nanami would no longer be alone. Because at this moment, Nanami is staring at his last moments as a bachelor before he’s married off to the idea of being yours.

He reaches out for the handle, granting cold water to shoot out of the facet.

A few chilly splashes contrast the heat and he’s back to staring back at his fair-skinned reflection.

‘A calm mind keeps a sound body’, that’s the mantra that plays in his head as he tends to his suit, tugging at the sleeve cuffs gently before exiting the bathroom and walking back to his seat. Upon finding you again, he finds you peering out the window of the passing landscape, the city slowly fading out into the countryside’s green pastures.

He notices your fidgeting fingers, nervously linking around each other. Of course, you felt something and his jetting to the bathroom only made things worse.

“I’m back,” he utters for your ears to hear.

Tilting your head back against the black leather, your eyes find Nanami’s, his unfiltered mossy hues falling onto your own.

“Feel better?” Your soft voice greets him.

Sheepishly, Nanami nods as he drops back into his seat. “Yeah, I just needed a moment.”

You shift closer to Nanami, resting your arms along the armrest between your bodies. “Did I…say something wrong?”

That’s when Nanami’s heart drops straight to the soles of his feet. He’s tossed into a state of sheer panic, raking his mind for some makeshift apology to soothe your worries. So many things he could say, but he’s settled for something he would prefer to hear: the raw and honest truth, no matter how pitiful it may seem.

A sigh breaks out of Nanami’s chest and into the air. He resorts to squeezing at the bridge of his nose to assemble his mind. “No, no, never that, Honey! It’s just that I’m not used to getting compliments…at all, really. And I get so red, it’s all just embarrassing to me.”

You perch your chin within your open palm, a faint smile gathering on your lips. “That’s so cute, Nanami! Well, since you’re not used to ‘em, I’ll give them to you. Because…you really are handsome…sir.”

Oh, you must be doing this on purpose, pushing all his buttons to get a reaction. He can’t even hide his grin anymore, not that he wants to, you’re getting a rise out of him—and he’s loving every single moment.

He’s loving it so much that he can’t help but join you, levering his neck to give you his attention. He’s doing so with a rare smile, one that leaves the peaks of his cheeks brimmed.

“Oh, but that’s not your job…that’s mine. How could I have forgotten to tell you just how beautiful you look? Yellow looks really nice against your skin, Sweetheart.”

Nanami catches himself in the moment, how he’s moving closer to your beaming visage. He allows his sights to shift from between your eyes and down to your lips before taking in a harrowing breath.

There’s only one thought in his mind…this was going to be an interesting ride.

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞

“C’mon! The villa’s just around the corner!” You point, turning around to gauge Nanami’s awareness.

“Slow down! I’m right behind you!” he chuckles, tucking the luggage beneath his arms.

Two and a half hours, that’s all it took for Nanami to break the ice of workplace formality with you. Since his outbreak on the train—and your affirming words; he’s found himself floating on a cloud.

Now he’s trudging up some stairs behind you all the way up to the villa, secluded from the outside world.

Since arriving in Kyoto, Nanami’s been taken away by the historic landscape of the area. Lush green trees stand tall amongst bushes and shrubs, and blooming flowers surround the quiet town at every corner.

The only unfortunate fact about the town was that everything closed at six on Fridays, and the train ride got you both here at six thirty. Which meant no nighttime browsing, no dinner, and room service was about to close.

But it’s a fact that Nanami’s willing to dismiss the moment he stood at the villa door with you at his side.

He’s dipping his hand into his pocket for the key, pressing the gold-plated metal through the slot. “Here we are, go on ahead,” Nanami grins, his hand pushing the door open for you.

“Nanami,” you coo, “You go in first, you’ve been lugging those bags up here.”

“No, it’s fine. You know the saying, Sweetheart, ladies first,” He smirks.

What Nanami didn’t anticipate was how close you were, your body flush against his own. And your eyes, they’re lingering on his own as you slip past him, pulling a breathless gasp from his lungs.

“Well…if you insist. I’m gonna go shower first then, meet you in the water, Nanami.”

“O-Okay,” he stutters out dumbly, his eyes left to hinge on your disappearing figure.

There’s another fact that Nanami’s taken note of since the train ride, how casual you’ve become with him so quickly. The fact brought him back to his phone call with Gojo and all that was shared.

It has Nanami mulling over what Gojo said, you already have some kind of feelings toward him. The train ride provided him with enough evidence, but logic tells him not to assume anything further.

And maybe you did feel the same way about him that he’s felt about you for the past three years. Tonight he was willing to put all that to the test, and he only hopes the results come out in his favor.

Dragging the bags inside, Nanami shuts the doors behind him, only to take in the villa with a scanning glare.

Takami mats replace the hardwood floor he’s become used to, with white walls surrounding him. The living room is quaint, with a black sofa against the wall with two armchairs joining the assembly. Just past the living room is a deck that looks out over the town, with a pool of steaming water just past a few steps.

“Nanamiiii?” You sing from around the corner, breaking his focus with ease.

“Yes, Sweetheart?” He’s chuckling to himself. God, if his last name sounds this good, how would his first name roll off that tongue of yours?

He walked towards the source of your voice, only for him to be greeted with the scene of you standing in the middle of the hallway with nothing but a towel wrapped around your body.

To ground himself fast, Nanami clears his throat and keeps his eyes pinned on you. And only your eyes.

“Is the shower off or something?”

“Oh no, nothing like that. There’s soap, towels, toothbrushes, and toothpaste, the bathroom’s great. I was thinking, should we order something? Maybe some hot sake and snacks?

“Get whatever you want,” he shrugs, taking a hand through his hair. I’ll have some too, so don't wait for me. I’m gonna go shower too, so go ahead and soak.”

You give Nanami one of your smiles before walking past him—just in time to give him some words of encouragement.

“Don’t take too long, it’s gonna get lonely without you.”

Nanami stands in the doorway of the bathroom, taking one more glimpse at you with his head shaking.

“I won’t.

The next time Nanami gets to see you is after his shower, a brief ten minutes that’s synonymous with an eternity. He leaves the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist, his hair weighted by water and his mind running on mischievous fumes.

Finally, he has you all alone with no outside noise to impede on his slice of heaven. He’s strolling down the hallway with his head held high, exuding the sheer heat of confidence off his slicked skin.

Who knew that the moment he caught a view of you, all his hard work would be swept up under the rug and replaced by naive awe?

Nanami swears to himself that he’ll look away, but it’s a promise bound to be broken because he simply can’t find elsewhere to rest his sore eyes except on you. You and the gentle curves of your glistening body perched along the ring of rocks compassing the private hot spring. Beside you is a small bowl that floats, holding what he can safely assume to be the hot sake you wanted.

He doesn’t quite get what’s so amusing about the scene either, but there’s something about observing you participate in the mundane task of peering out over the settling town made Nanami’s cheek swell with a rousing heat.

A part of him almost doesn’t want to distract you—but his imagination was painting him too many scenes that needed his hand to unfold.

Biting the innards of his cheek, Nanami gathers what’s left of his ebbing confidence to walk down the deck steps, the wood creaking beneath his every step.

“How’s the water?” Nanami’s question breaks the silence.

His voice coaxes you to meet him with a welcoming grin, “It’s so nice! And the sake got here too, it’s not too sweet and it’s still warm, just for you.”

Nanami stands at the pool’s edge, his hand encircling his hidden waist. “Yeah, y’know I’m not even much of a drinker, but I’ll try my hand at it tonight.”

He’s still got your regard, the two of you trapped in a trance until he notices your gaze wavering further along his body. Down his bulging chest bejeweled by water droplets, the carefully sculpted contours of his abdomen, down to the fluffy white towel hanging around his hips.

“Well…,” you purr, “Aren’t you coming in, Nanami?”

Slowly, Nanami lowers himself into the steamy bath, his foot settling onto the shallow bottom. The misty water splits around him as Nanami introduces himself. The water comes up no further than his mid-thigh, but the moment he sits down, he’s pulled into an embrace that captures most of his chest. And yet, he can’t hide the sigh of relief that trumpets out his mouth, his head dropping back between his shoulder blades.

“Oh wow,” he pants, “Feels so good.”

“Right, and with a little sake…” you push the wobbling bowl to swim across the pool towards him, “You’ll feel even better.”

“Really?” Nanami smirks as the sake enters his realm. He’s quick to pour himself a cup, filling the stout ceramic cup to the brim.

“If you want some more…gotta come a little closer, Sweetheart,” he teases as he brings the rim of the cup to his lips.

“Guess I could go for a little more,” you give into him with a chuckle, rising from your spot with a hand clipped to the overlapping layers of your towel.

Slow, sweeping steps cut through the water as Nanami gawks at your bearing silhouette. That pesky towel clings to your body, but all it does is complement your curves—those very curves that sit nuzzled to his side as you sit beside him.

“How’s this? Close enough?” you press, your head lolling against the rocky edge to face Nanami’s flushed face.

“I’ll take it,” Nanami snickers as he works himself to pour your cup. “Here, should we make a toast?”

“To what? A vacation?” you question with your cup in hand.

“Hmm…” Nanami weighs, “To…us. And this long-awaited vacation.”

“To us, then” you cheer as your cup rings against Nanami’s.

He’s back to eyeing you; there’s a grin working onto your lips as you push down the sweet liquor, one that brings a liberating wave to wash over Nanami’s mind. He wishes he could see you like this all time, relaxed and free from the stresses of the world.

A moment of silence falls over the scene, allowing you and Nanami to simply bask in each other’s presence. The sake’s finally settled in his system too, leaving him with a faint haze over his mind. He places his empty cup back onto the wobbling bowl before shifting towards you, his eyelids resting at half-mast.

“Y’know, I’m really happy you agreed to come with me, Dollface,” he sighs happily, “ I like seeing you calm like this.”

“I could say the same thing to you, I don’t think I’ve seen you smile so much,” you return fondly.

“But I’m only smiling this much because of you.”

“Pfft, what did I do?” You push off—but Nanami catches the disbelief in your voice with a squint.

That’s when Nanami's eyes shoot toward your own. He isn’t playing around either, not with the courage coursing through his veins. Was this the moment he’s been waiting three years for? And if it was, would he ruin it by saying too much? So much doubt, so much second thoughts cloud his mind—but when he opens his mouth to speak, it’s all rooted from the depths of his heart.

“So much. You’ve done so much, all your time and care have never gone unnoticed. A-and…I …have so much I wish to tell you, but…I’ll be honest, I’m nervous.”

“Nanami? It’s okay, I’m right here and I’m here to listen.” You aimed to soothe him, your hand breaking through the water to lay against his chest.

Oh, how he wishes you wouldn’t have done that. His heart’s already throbbing up to his ears, and with you finally laying a hand on him, he might burst right there. But the tranquil aria of your voice brings Nanami back down into his body and a clear mind.

He clips his bottom lips between his teeth, using the sharp pain to calm the heartbeat you had complete access to. “Doll, I can’t…I can’t keep this up. I’ve um…always…always wanted to tell you that since the day you walked into my office…I knew I wanted to be yours.”

“But I mean…” There’s the logical churning in Nanami’s brain when he enters a space of realism—where he analyses everything down to the letter without regard for how cold it may roll off his tongue.

And that includes an analysis of himself.

“And I know, what sane woman would wanna be with a man like me? I don’t express much emotion, I’m too technical and I overwork myself. But I promise to be—”

“Kento?” you interrupt, rapping the tips of your fingers against his chest.

“Yeah?” He sulks with a frown.

The hand you keep at his chest creeps up to his inflamed features, that same heat meddling in with your palm as you cup his cheek. A gentle turn pits Nanami to face you head-on, but to ease his rushing mind, you give him a smile paired with the softest of tones.

“Any sane woman might not, but you’re grouping me in a category that doesn’t suit me. I don’t mind for my man to be a thinker, a hard worker. And if he has some trouble expressing himself, it’s okay. I have patience…just like you do.”

Nanami’s hiking a brow at your remarks, “So…you’ve known this entire time?”

“Known is a strong word. But Nanami, we’ve been working together for the past three years. How could I not fall for you when you treat me so kindly? All those lunch and dinner dates, the random gifts that pop up on my desk. I mean, playing it off on clients is sweet and all but the office doesn’t open until ten and the mailman doesn’t reach us until twelve. Still…the effort was sweet.”

“God, I feel so childish!” Nanami groans as he screws his eyes shut to avert your gaze. “Guess I shouldn’t have been so nervous, huh?”

“Yeah but, think of it like this,” you try to shed some light on his woes. “Three years have passed and we know each other better, down to our habits too. I think we were better off waiting rather than jumping in when we first met.”

“But that only leaves one question…” Nanami whispers to himself. He opens his eyes again and finds you as his refuge. Space isn’t a stranger in his mind, not when he’s barely a few inches away from your visage. When he finally gathers his thoughts, the words spill from Nanami’s lips without another second pass.

“Will you…be my girlfriend, Angel?”

Nanami can hear you swallow down that lump in your throat. Nerves, that’s the one thing he did calculate for. He’s throwing a relationship on you, without asking if you were anywhere near ready for the commitment.

But he’s hoping. Nanami’s hoping and praying to any god that exists that you’ll grant him this one selfish wish.

“Y’know, if we do this, things can’t go back to how they used to be…ever again.”

“I know,” Nanami hums as he brings his thumb to brush along the crest of your cheek.

“A-And, we’ll have to talk about things moving forward.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“But…what if we’re making a mistake?”

Nanami catches your chin with between his thumb and index finger, compelling you to look up into his eyes. They’re gentle, free of their usual cold stare, and superseded by a blossoming twinkle. He’s capturing you in a trance that’s leaving you breathless; breathless and at Nanami’s every whim.

“If this is a mistake, then I’ll do anything to prove to you that it’s not. There’s no mistake here, that much I know. Whatever you want, whatever it takes…I’ll do it if it means we can be together.”

A pout pushes out onto your lips, touched by Nanami’s dedication and devotion to you.

“Okay…but what about right now? This isn’t going to end in only a kiss.”

“Mmm, call it consummating the relationship,” Nanami suggests under his gravitation beneath tension’s heat towards you. His eyes hang low and pin right onto your lips, hinged at the fated words speaking through the air.

“Well then…guess I’m all yours, Kento. Yes, I wanna be your girlfriend—”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” That truly is all Nanami needs to hear because he didn’t even grant your monologue its deserved spotlight before his lips are sinking against your own.

He has half a mind to call it the kiss of life, a weight lifting off his shoulders the moment he delves into his long-awaited bliss. It’s as he’s imagined—no, better than that. The soft plush of your lips entices him, pulling him into a game of chase. You pull back and he’s right there for more, and when you push he’s taking it all with a pathetic whimper seeping from behind his clashing teeth.

It isn’t long before his hands dip back into the water for the treasure he’s calling your hips. Hidden behind that towel, but it’s no match for him when he’s holding you now, so close that not even a drop of water could invade.

And if Nanami had the strength to find the words, he would. But he’s using every ounce of his strength to fight against the water to have you closer. He’s guiding you right onto his lap, your body smothering against his as you straddle him.

“Can I…take this towel off?” He quizzes between a breath—and he smirks when you conjure up a feverish nod.

Like a feather in the wind, Nanami’s using a delicate touch to peel away the wall, his eyes growing at the sight of your bare skin in reach. It’s a reward when he yanks the thick cloth from beneath you and off into the dark abyss behind him.

And now that Nanami’s finally got his hands on you, no force in the universe could move him.

You’re so soft in his palms, with skin so supple he’s almost afraid of what his touch could do to you. Even with all those precautions, his faith is an unwavering one. You’re too cute for him to abstain from such bliss, especially with three long years of patience behind his belt.

He simply has to get his hands on you, all over you until he’s become acquainted with every crease, crevice, and curve your body has to offer.

“Let me give you a quick lesson on something, Baby. I think you’ll like it too,” he hums, pulling away from this kiss.

“Oh?” you entertain, tilting your head at Nanami’s new persona. He’s grinning, his smile so wide that you swear it has to be a figment of your imagination. But the way his hands glide across your skin pulls out a vivid reminder in the form of a helpless whimper.

“Go ahead, show me everything you know.”

“Erogenous zones. The places where you get extra sensitive. I wanna see how many I can find. Like…right here.” He tends to your breast first, his vast palms carefully skimming along the delicate skin. He’s cupping your tits in his care, using his girth fingers to knead into the pillowy plush.

“How does that feel, Sweetheart?”

Oh, aren’t you the cutest, pulling back from the steady stream of kisses to watch how intentful Nanami is with his words. The hands you brace onto his shoulder pick up a dangerous grip when his fingers feather at your nipples, pinching the dormant buds awake.

With this newfound audience, Nanami can’t help but perform now. He’s taken to the valley of your chest, his lips simmering against your skin as he sketches the grounds for his act in fluttering pecks. Bit by bit, he’s planting his path, nipping at your skin until his lips brush against your nipple.

You pinch at your lip again, praying that it grounds you from what Nanami has in store. “Feel so…so good, Ken,” you whine with setting eyes.

He doesn’t get his way without hearing your mouth, a delicate chirp that melts into a moan. As your eyes crack open once more, he’s sure to meet you with gentle olive irises.

“That’s my girl. Too pretty to hide when I’m merely teasing you. I’ve got all night with you, remember?”

That’s as much as a reminder to himself too, he has all night, two days, and the rest of his days to explore you. But already he’s missed out on so much time, so he hopes you’ll excuse him for the rush now.

The rush of his back finally traveling past your tweaked ties and down to l the small of your back, his burly hands dressing your delicate body like a corset. If he remembers from his days back in university, the back is a special place. It’s where your spine can be found, where your curves take shape, but there’s something else here that Nanami can’t quite put his finger on.

Until he does.

His fingers dust right over the divots in your back, those two dimples waiting for attention. He remembers now, the insane levels of sensitivity hidden in plain sight. He doesn’t want to give away his ruse, but for all you know, he’s merely inches away from grabbing onto your ass.

So he does it, delicately allowing a few fingers to slip past the water and sink into the pert plump flesh, leaving only his thumbs to fill out those precious jewels of your lower back. The pads of his thumbs lay teasing strides as a ploy until he’s located those hidden cords of nerves.

He can’t wait anymore, softly pulsing his thumbs against the dips, solely for his ears to be graced by the prettiest of chords: your heavy gasps drumming into the air.

“This is an overlooked one. Known as the lumbar, but it’s simply your lower back. By using a liiiitle pressure like this—”

“Kennn…h-hold on, that’s so…Ohmy–!”

That’s the gasp he’s looking for, the satisfaction parading itself somewhere deep inside Nanami. The jolt wrecking through your body only brought you right into his hands and pinned against his chest. His lips take to your ears for his own bliss, hiding a sadist smirk behind his encouraging words.

“Now, now, those nasty words don’t suit you, Angel. Can’t you find anything else to say with that pretty mouth of yours?”

“B-But, I—“

Another slip along your back dimples sends you reeling against Nanami, your head dropping to fill the crook of his neck.

“Nanami! That’s …t-too mmuch for me,” your plea falling on deaf ears.

“Oh Baby, did you forget who I am? The body…this body….your body…there’s so many ways to touch you, tease you, make you cum without getting remotely close to your pussy…’nd I’m just getting started.”

Nanami veers himself enough for his eyes to be cast upon you, his hazel hues scanning over your fucked out face; those eyes fluttering at half-mast, your lips broken fleeing hot pants chest. He can’t help but soothe the pain with pleasure, painting the flustered tips of your ear in deft pecks.

“You just so happen to land yourself a sex therapist for a man.”

It’s a truth that Nanami doesn’t let you absorb, not while he’s playing with you like this. His thumbs taunt your lower back and his hands strapped along your ass pull your hips into transit, rutting against him for a sliver of relief.

But Nanami’s grown so desperate that he’s slouching—permitting his back to slip against the bath’s wall if it meant he could plug your pleas with his bulge.

And wasn’t his theory proved right on the first try?

Because the second his hips curl right up under you, he’s gasping at how the lips of your cunt drag against the drenched towel—and along his poor cock. So much fervor, so much passion is driving your hips to rock like this, forcing the towel to lick at your clit.

But…that’s his new job. A new task that comes with his promotion—and one that he’s dying to commence.

“Ken,” his name highlighted behind your moans.

He gets the chance to watch you reach out for him, your hands lacing around the nape of his neck and pulling him close. So close that your foreheads rest against each other and all you can do is dress each other’s mouth with aimless pants.

“You want more, don’t you?” He chuckles.

And you could respond, but you allow your lips to deliver the message to him loud and clear. Back to that familiar cadence, your lips falling into a dance made for you. But when your tongue dips into his mouth for the first time, Nanami swears he could cum right then and there.

Your tongue, velvety and so kind, traces along his own—riding up along every curve and back down to his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” is all Nanami can mutter…because…fuck. Such a dirty word, but his mind’s running on nothing but the lust clouding his core, and rushing to bully his cock with relentless pangs.

“Kento…is that?...” you giggle, breaking from his lips when something hard perks up between your legs.

“That’s what you do to me, Baby. ‘m so hard already, waiting for you to be mine.”

“Aww, but I am yours, Honey,” you avow, raking your nails along the deep chisels of his back. Against his lips, you whisper such a lulling coo that pulls at Nanami’s restraint, using the exact words he didn’t need to hear.

“So…what are you waiting for?”

Nanami kisses his teeth, sparking a devious grin to claim his mouth.

“Part three of this lesson.”

A hand of his snakes between your bodies, twisting and tugging his towel out from under him until he’s free.

“Another erogenous zone, huh? Can I…try to find yours?”

Nanami could never deny you, who was he to start now of all times? He decides to help you out by laying a grip around your wrist, leading your hand down between your bodies

When your hand laces around his pudgy length, he’s gritting his teeth at your bestowing grip. So loose but cradles his cock with such care he could almost shed a tear.

But all you do is lug your lax fist up and down, singly to tease Nanami of what could come to pass. And you do it all without failing to keep your sights aligned with his own. So, just this once he’s letting you take the reins.

“Go on, I’ll even give you extra points if you know how to handle it.” His hands float back up to your hips and he finally relaxes—his body stills, his mind blanks, and Nanami inhales a breath what he deems to be tranquility at its finest.

He’s resting in your care, closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel everything—every beat of his heart, the waves crashing against his chest, the stirring of nerves brewing in his stomach.

That alone grows, its futile persistence slowly consuming Nanami. He’s touched himself so many times before, but it all fails to compare when he has you working on his behalf. It’s more than he can handle.

And he’s too keen on hiding it either, Nanami’s head lolling back when your hand gains fervency. Your wrist works sloppy twirls around the belled crown of his cock that coaxes a livid heat to rip through his nerves.

“J-Just like that, niiice ‘nd slow…g-get the tip too—fuck!”

Your lips cling to his exposed bobbing Adam’s apple, littering his skin with kisses and taunts.

“Aww, so sensitive, Ken. And ‘m only touching you exactly how you want me to,”

“Fu-fuuuck, that’s…d-don’t squeeze down like that o-or–!” He’s barely huffing out. His chest’s struggling to keep up, relying on labored breaths to feed his lungs what bits of air he gathers.

Only a few minutes into the relationship, Nanami’s already pushed to the edge, his body teetering the dangerous line of pain and pleasure. It feels so good to have you touch him, but the heft of his impending high has him seeing stars each time he blinks. It’s a line of pain and bliss that has tears welling in Nanami’s eyes, his broken mind split on an outcome that dooms him either way.

“Ha-Hah! Baby, please! I don’t wanna cum yet, slow down!” He’s sobbing with hands clipping to your waist. His nails sink into your plushy skin, marking you with a bruising belt of crimson crescents.

“But you’re so close, Ken!”

“I know, I know, but I can’t cum before you do, Angel. Wouldn’t feel right to me.”

His hand finds a new hold along your wrist, pulling your worked hand through the water and pressing along the bulging ripples of his chest.

“Besides…All that sake’s got me craving something so sweet. Think you can help me out with that, Honey?”

“Mm-hm…’course, Ken.”

“Good.” He hums as his gaze falls over the salacious scene’s background: the wooden deck. He’s also keen on calling the towel he freed from you back into play, tugging the soaked cotton towel across the deck.

Patting his hand atop the deck, Nanami ushers you to join his next lesson, “C’mon. Bend over and keep that pretty ass in the air for me, alright?”

If there’s something Nanami knows about you, it’s your ear for direction. Every task, every favor, and anything he’s asked of you during the past three years was always completed beyond expectation.

And this was no different.

The arch you take on is nothing short of heavenly, your face hidden behind the blossoming spread of your ass. “Beautiful,” he ponders aloud, his wandering hands rowing along the luscious junctures of your curves. “I still need your help, Darling. Spread yourself fr’ me.”

He oversees the hesitancy that claims you, your trembling hands reaching around the globes of your ass. Ever so gently you pull yourself apart before him, only for a whimper to bring all your hard work crumbling down.

“But Ken…that’s so—fuck!”

Obiviously you’re nervous, he’s asked you to reveal yourself like it’s something so easy. As his newfound position entitles, he’s supposed to ease your woes, not enforce more than what the world already dishes out. That’s why Nanami takes a thumb right over your clit, drawing loose rings around the timid bud. He’s so painstakingly slow too, ensuring that every nerve is caught beneath his tantric trance.

“That’s so what, Baby? You don’t have to be nervous with me, just wanna make you feel good.” And that’s a sworn promise of his, the kiss he places onto your ass brandishes it as such.

“Take your time, ‘m right here.”

Words have power, and he’s witnessing the magic with naked eyes. Your hands, once trembling and timid, now pries yourself apart for Nanami’s sake.

“How’s that?” you press, tilting your head to find Nanami’s hidden silhouette.

“Perfect. So pretty too, Baby. Oh, look at how cute your clit is! Mmm, I know you’re sweet too, aren’t you, Darling?”

What else had to be said, Nanami’s really taken a liking to your pussy, the way your clit drinks up his touch with jaunty throbs. He can’t ignore that blatant fact that you’re dripping into his impressions. He could take some credit for the sticky mess unfolding between your legs, but he’s more interested in furthering his role.

So it’s no wonder when Nanami can feel himself drawing nearer, his heavy eyes guiding him to meet your splayed cunt within mere inches.

“Tell me, y’know that this cute clit of yours is another one of those erogenous zones ‘m teaching you about, right?” He breathes out against your bare cunt.

“Y-Yeah…” you huff, biting at your lip.

“Good girl. Let me see how long it takes to make a mess out of you.”

A man starved, that’s all Nanami is as he falls victim to your displayed cunt. He nurses you with a pout, granting him the exclusivity of tending to your clit. He places a soft kiss as a foundation, melting all your woes beneath his supple curves of a ruined grin.

He seals the spry bulb between his lips, his purling jaw working to bring your clit to its blushing bulbous swell.

He’s allowing his tongue to slip onto the scene, the slicked palette pedaling kind, short strokes to the pink pearl. His heavy tongue drifts along the raw nerves softly, curling just at your swelling hood to tease.

Between a thin stare, Nanami’s thinking of how cute it is that your plump clit dances along with his tongue. It takes two to dance and Nanami couldn’t have asked for a finer partner. Whenever he takes the time to twirl, swirl, and nudge at you, he’s met with a grand pirouette that laces around his tongue.

“Fuck!” the curse ripping from your puffy lips. It feels good, that much he knows thanks to your melodies. But if only you knew the discipline it’s taking Nanami from not burying himself between the fat mounds of your cunt.

You’re like silk against his slicked muscle, those soft folds of yours sewed along his curled tongue. He can’t even begin to account for how many times he’s traced at the pulsing hem of your folds, nipped at your fluttering hole, even the number of kisses he’s tongued out of your clit, all to pull out that saccharine stream of ambrosia from your slit. So sweet, so sticky, exactly what he needs to soothe his mind from the edge it sits on.

He hears your cries too, your sobs, the whimpers, and the need to cum blended with each word. Nanami wants to soothe you too, feed your numbed mind kind words of reassurance. But greed’s got the better of him, the sin staining his very tongue as he indulges in your honey.

But when he catches the way your hands dig into the plush of your ass, he’s wincing at the sight.

He’s also keen to that hand of yours drifting dangerously close to his canvas. He’s aware of your game and allows for that stubborn digit of yours to nip at your slit.

Those subtle pulses lead to you sinking in a little deeper, a certain detail he can’t let slip for too long.

“Am I not enough for you, Honey?” Go on, show me how you touch yourself.”

His chocolate hues break wide at how greedily your puffy hole envelopes your finger, swallowing each sloppy stride you pump into your core. But that’s all it is—cheap, sloppy work.

Somehow and someway, your body’s enjoying it, the addition of your finger bringing shivers to rake across your skin.

And while Nanami isn’t a jealous man, he’s resenting that touch of yours with a nasty sneer.

He could shy away, let his mouth help guide you through that high begging to crash through your body. You’re working so hard—but Nanami works harder.

The longest finger he has pecks at your busy hole. He doesn’t think much of it at first—until he catches your hole latching onto his teasing scheme. Before he can go on about how much of a mess you’ve made out of yourself, a dumbfounded awe strikes him. He’s able to attest to it, how his digit is being suckered inside you.

“Oh fu—knew you still needed my help…but we can work together too.” He’s chuckling to conceal that crack in his voice.

It’s a slow, wet draw that has you stretching, gasping to be stuffed by the oblivious girth of his finger. But it’s so wet that your pussy and your mouth have to squeal out against his deepening reach.

“K-Kennn, fuck! Right there!” You gasp, yielding your endeavors at Nanami’s introduction.

“Now I didn’t say to stop, Angel. Keep going, pretend like I’m not even here.”

And he means every word, he’s waiting for you to pick that sloppy pace, one that he challenges with the slow drags of his own. You lack the grace he strives for, the same grace that brings him right to your sweet spot without fail.

“O-ooh shit, Kento!” Your hips jerk from his ministrations, but he isn’t letting your sobs distract him from such a discovery.

“Hm? Is that your spot, Honey? Right here?” He taunts, sending his ruined digit to thrash against the stiffening bundle of nerves.

“‘M so close, Ken! Plea-Please don’t stop!”

Don’t stop? Don’t stop? He had no plans of stopping, yet your body seems to cry out against your compelling demands. Why, Nanami wants to bring about the lush high you deserve, whereas your hips suddenly picked up such a nasty habit of jerking away from his mouth has him thinking otherwise.

“I told you already, you don’t have to beg me. It’s right there, hm? Let it all out for me.”

He tags a hand at your rebelling hips and pulls you right onto his coiled tongue, where defeat lies along the horizon. He relies on his lips, now plump and plush, to tack onto the sputtering bulb of your clit and melt away all that prudish tension with a kiss.

Such a kiss allows him to trace over your spry hood, to roll out the glossy pearl in riveting tides. And when paired with his pummeling finger, Nanami can only count the seconds it takes for your body to crumble.

Nanami draws him back exclusively to watch your beautiful demise. He keeps his hand at your hips, kneading at the grip he used to restrain you out of pity. It’s an honor for him to be by your side, aiding you through what he deems to be a perilous high.

He’s so endowed to your allure, that Nanami can’t keep his thoughts all to himself—no, he utterly has a duty to share all he’s thinking with you, even how pretty you look in the face of ecstasy.

“Look at you, wanted to cum ‘nd I did it all for you…give it to me, c’mon, Angel.”

Your hand can still be found in his, clutching at his palm through every tremor, every sob, and the heavy sacrifice of your breath. He’s right there with you, decorating your skin with soiled pecks until your breath is caught and steady.

“Good?” He checks, his hand skimming along your skin.

“Oh, Ken…th-that was really good!”

“Well then…can you give me one more?”

That’s when you finally turn around to face him, gems of water adorning his body. Your eyes hinge on a particular sight though, his cock standing up at a slight curve.

Tan with the pretty cream hues of his shaft that contrast his own skin—and the blushing pink tip of his cock by miles. Vibrant veins line his every inch, lacing around his girth without fail. The underside’s heavy too, defined by the contours that flush out his cock. And of course the tip’s fat, what else did you expect, the blushing pink heart that tops him off pecks at you, his cock primed by tease.

Nanami’s touched by how quick he’s got your attention, and he plans of keeping your time well-spent. That’s why he’s swift to bestow a coddling grip around his, feeding himself with a few lazy pumps for your explicit viewing pleasure.

“But…I forgot to bring condoms—didn’t think we’d get this far. We don’t have to–”

“No,” you grin, passing a sinister glint back to Nanami, “It’s fine.”

Oaths spill from his lips the moment you grant him such a blessing. He’s already nuzzled against you, preparing his fragile mind with what lies beyond your hole.

“Oh, you got so wet for me, fuck,” the words he’s mumbling aren’t even made for your ears—he’s raving straight to your pussy. He’s dragging his slicked tip through your folds, up and down, tracing at your slit with lazy nips. His prodding bellhead comes to smother your tight hole in messy kisses, lathering up a rich foamy web that’s waiting to be destroyed.

“I’ll be gentle, so be nice to yourself too ‘nd don’t rush,” Nanami hums as he hunches over your body.

He’s keeping his hips loose as he sends his cock eight inches deep. Eight inches that he’s chosen to feed to you through kind snaps of his hips. Your puffy entrance suckles at the slit of his cock, drinking up every drop of his precum before he’s hidden inside your walls.

“Fuh–Angel, t-that’s just th-the tip, al-alright? Got a litt-ttle more to go,” He gasps. But that’s to serve as a reminder to him that he has more to go–which means Nanami has to grasp onto his composure for just a little while longer.

The urge’s there, but why rush when you feel so good right here? Warming up his tip with silky pulses that test Nanami’s resolve. The hands he’s chained to your hips grow heavy, bearing a harsh grip once he’s glued his hips to the thick plush of your ass.

“Gonna move now, Angel. Tell me if it’s too much right now, ‘kay?”

Nanami’s so ingrained with your suckling heat that he almost doesn’t want to pull out. If you keep squeezing him like that too, he knows he could in a matter of minutes.

But then a thought laps through his mind—he’s wearing a rare honor of delving into your pussy bare.

And that’s a chance he’s not willing to risk.

Slowly, his hips reel from you, stealing back those girthy inches from your greedy walls. He darts his eyes down to the sight, his cock bore with your slick. So messy what a few minutes can do, and it’s left him with a fixture for sore eyes.

Creamy, thick, and yet…it’s not enough. No, it’s not enough for Nanami, he needs you creaming a nice cloudy ring around the base of his cock.

Since that’s the task he’s chasing, Nanami doesn’t hesitate to seal himself back into you, finding a kind rhythm to alleviate your walls to his bulling girth. Every roll of his hips brings him closer to his goal, you’re easing up around him. He’s almost inspired by your resolve to take him to feed you just a little more of a tempo, his hips catching wind of your welcoming advances.

Your voice breaks his concentration. “Ken?”

“Ye-yeah, Honey?”

“M-More…I can take it, Baby.”

He had no business hearing that fall from your lips, that request only makes Nanami throb. He’s all for it now, reeling his hips back until the very tip of his cock threatens to leave you. The filthy rut he’s fallen into reads through your ass, towing hypnotic waves to ripple through your skin.

You feel so good around him, your satin-like walls snuggling his girth. He can feel you working at his own demise, all that squeezing feeding the knot in his stomach. Oh, how he wants to cum, to paint you in his seed—but that’s not an honor yet deserved, not while your orgasm has yet to present itself.

He’s so hellbent on being so kind to you that every bit of his body acts in accordance towards his wish. The thick head he delivers to, the girth of his cock keeps your greedy walls at bay, and the swell of his heavy balls babies your clit with light taps of rapture.

He’s almost forgotten where you two were—outside with neighbors under a kilometer away. But who’s Nanami to stop those delicious moans from leaving your mouth? You’re singing him a song of how well he’s pleasing you, how deep he sends his cock to reach. He’s been busy at your sweet spot for sometime, painting the nerves in his scent, in his kisses, and in his fervor.

“That’s it, stay with me. Y’re taking me so damn good too, Angel. Squeezing down on me like that…

“Fuck, Ken..I-my legs…can’t keep them up anymore…”

Before Nanami can even offer some advice, your body’s already given up the hope of support. Your legs stretch out along the towel, forcing you to lay on your tummy.

“Hm, don’t worry about it, just lay there all pretty and take this dick, okay?”

Of course, Nanami’s found a solution, as he always does. This solution prompts him to trap you beneath his world when planting the flat of his hands beside your head, his hunkering body stretching over you. He slots his chest along your back, leaving his hips to break away from you.

All your curves, all your breaths, all your whimpers and your moans were his own when he’s this close. He can feel everything, even the way your walls flutter around him with this newfound angle.

He gives you time to adjust while he gets to explore you, his eyes searching for where to lay his artwork.

Right there, along your shoulder, he’s already imagining all the kisses and bites claiming your soft skin.

“Tell me…” he mutters between a trail of pecks along your shoulder. “You know what I love about you?”

“N-No…what’s that?” you quiz, levering your chin back to find Nanami hard at work.

His earthy hues fall prey to your gaze. He’s compelled to abandon his work to favor you, the answer to your question dribbling from his mouth.

“Oh, what do I love about my sweet baby? It’s how vocal you are, always telling me what’s on your mind. Just like right now…” he smirks, “Even though I can’t see, you always seem to tell me how deep I am…and how much deeper I can go. Just…liiike this…”

A lazy drive of his hips sends his cock to deliver a wispy kiss right to your cervix, coaxing your tummy to cave in against the towel.

“Oooh shit! Ken! Fuck!!”, your gaping mouth mewls.

Nanami simply grins at how fast your hands ball up the towel between your fists, he’s proven right. Not that he cares all that much, bearing the privilege of hearing your sweet cry is all the reward he needs.

“Oh I know, Baby, I know,” his voice carrying a suave chord, “I’m gonna be nice, fuck you right too.”

A man of his word he is, Nanami Kento.

“KenKenKen! ‘M gonna fucking cum again!” you sob, bucking your hips up against him.

“Again? That’s my girl. Gonna cum on my dick, right? I’ll make it a good one too, don’t you worry!”

He’s working on your behalf, grinding his hips along the swell of your ass. He can’t go any deeper than this, but he’ll admit that he’s neglected your sweet spot for quite some time now, Blame it on the feverish heat subscribing to his body, but he’s ready to focus his all onto you.

That includes kissing at your sweet spot with the head of his cock. Rolling his hips ever so carefully, sketching along those inflamed nerves with buttery pecks, he’s ready to make you cum—hard. Harder than what any toy, your fingers, and any man ever could.

Though, it’s when he slips up and finds your cervix—that’s what brings about your downfall. His ill-minded finding brought about deep-rooted tremors to wreck your core, capturing your entire body with a hellish wrath. Your walls clench at Nanami, cursing him for being such a fate before you.

Yet, all he can do is cheer you on, chuckling at how his efforts brought him to a place of bliss.

“That’s it, cream all on me, Baby. Fuck, trying to make me cum too, aren’t you?”

“Ken, I-I—ohmygod!”

“Shhh, I got you, Sweetheart,” he’s humming along your cheek, “Come back down to me…we’re not done yet.”

“We’re not??!”

Nanami hides the sly grin on his face as he turns back to the awaiting pool of water behind you both.

“Of course not. We came all the way out here, did you think I wasn’t going to take you in the water too, Baby?”

“Ken…I…I don’t think I can cum anymore!”

“Oh yes, you can! You didn’t even squirt for me yet! But if you don’t do it tonight, I’ll make you squirt tomorrow.”

Selfish, so utterly selfish of him to try and pull another round out of you, but his tempered patience challenges this rare spout of excitement. For in simply a few hours, Nanami’s become addicted to you—your lips, your body, your moans, even watching you cum at his hand, he’s addicted to it all.

“One…one more, ‘kay?” you wager, a look of your glossy doe eyes consuming his sights.

“Okay! That—”

“But…” you swiftly intervene, your weary hand searching for rest along his thigh.

Nanami’s eyes follow your lithe hand, tracking the lazy path it takes up his body. He’s still waiting to hear the rest of your deal, but how can he when your hand trails up his thigh, curving up around the base of his cock and up towards his flexing abdomen.

“Ken, baby?” The melodic call of his name breaks the trance, Nanami’s sights meeting your own.

“Y-Yeah?”

Nanami’s eyes light up at the smile adorning your face.

“I wanna ride you. It’s the least I can do for makin’ you work on your vacation.”

He’s gawking at you. Dumbly too. His mouth surrenders to that gap and he merely stares at you. That’s all he can do to distract himself from the mind-numbing rush of blood filling out every inch of his cock.

Because thanks to you…he’s painfully hard again too.

“Aww, you like that idea? You’re already making a mess, Ken.”

He looks down. You’re right. All this excitement has him dripping aimlessly, the back of your thigh covered in patchy drops of his precum.

But he can’t bring himself to move, not when he’s caught between a place of utter embarrassment and pitiful arousal. Should he apologize? Should he wipe it off?

As you crawl back onto your hands and knees, suddenly his cock’s sitting homely between the soft, thick globes of your ass, Nanami doesn’t know where he found the restraint to not paint your skin white right then and there.

And you have all the confidence to taunt him now too? Taking advantage of his dumbstruck silence to roll your hips against him, stroking his weeping cock ever so slowly.

“C’mon, Ken, I’m waiting. Don’t you wanna go back in the water and relax…with me? We can all that fun we’ve been talking about too.”

He’s stuck on the sight. Up and down, you’re dragging back on his cock, leaving the white-hot tip raw and aching; leaving those portly veins to bloat and flourish along his length; leaving the spill of precum to dangerous tread behind the lines of milky white.

“Fuck” Nanami’s voice rattles out at last. “I might—no, if we do…I'm so sorry…Sweetheart, I’m sorry but I’m not gonna last long!”

“That’s okay,” you coo, “We can go nice and slow just to calm you down.”

Shamefully, Nanami nods at your assurance. As to how you ended up with a hand over him is shameful—but a well-played card.

Slowly, he descends back into the haze of steam, the water welcoming his body once more. He sits himself at the bottom of the pool, the water coming up just above his navel.

In the corner of his eye, Nanami carefully watches as you slip back onto the water and crawl into his sprawled lap to straddle him. Your arms drape along his broad shoulders and he’s already reaching for your hips with hungry hands.

Your forehead presses up against his own, sealing Nanami in a spell he couldn’t imagine breaking from.

“Gonna go slow, okay?” You whisper, your hips drifting above the pink crown of his cock.

Though he’s been buried to the hilt of your heat, it’s still foreign to Nanami’s mind what it means to have you split over him. He doesn’t know that to have your pretty pussy split and sputtering dumb means to carve your walls into his shape, his size, to mold you around every single detail that comes with a man of his caliber.

And that upright curve he’s donning too.

The sweltering gush that your walls paint Nanami behind has him reeling beyond comparison. He’s so desperate too, the urge to snap you down to his tensed thighs teases the very hands he keeps pinned to your luring hips.

But he can’t forget that it’s an effort you make to accommodate him, laggardly drowning your poor hole beneath the sinful weight of his length.

Taking him like this, it’s overwhelming to have something so thick, so hot, and stupidly twitching out of sheer excitement fill you like it’s easy.

Yet, you do it anyway with that cute break between your lips, gasping like something so shocking has your attention. You do it with furrowed brows, confounded as to how you’ve ended up gaping around his fat cock out of the kindness of your heart.

It’s all so shrewd, but your sacrifice makes everything worthwhile once Nanami’s immersed in your spitting cunt once more.

He’s right back to relish how your walls pamper every bit of his cock in those flirting embraces. He’s right back to gritting his teeth, finding it in himself to bear that persuasive hold you’ve laid before him.

Nanami has it in him to cry out, to rattle off hymns of how well that sloppy pussy of yours got him—but all he can conjure up is the will to pin a sloppy kiss on your lips.

His mind might be fleeting, but Nanami’s learning you too are a woman of your word; slow is an understatement for the mesmerizing toll your hips adopt. It’s a mesmerizing toll that’s slow enough to have the likes of Nanami—a man of rigid logic—gasping for air.

You’re still squeezing him, but it’s more aligned with your intentions now rather than the nerve of taking him on like before. It’s all so tedious, having your hips roll all the way to the top, dangling at the tip, only for your walls to lather up the fat pink bulb in gummy kisses.

All the teasing has his cock threatening to slip out, cursing your cunt in twitching for stealing back the shared bliss.

“Oh fuck—Wha…What are you doing to me, Angel?” He’s whimpering against your lips, and your smirk catches every single word.

You feign innocence with him, pressing a merciful peck onto his quivering frown. “What are you talking about, Honey? I’m taking my sweet time with you, just like I said I was.”

That’s what you say, but Nanami’s aware that there’s more to your claim than what meets his ear. If you were really taking your sweet time with him, why is he spiraling down this pit of ravishing piety?

You’re drawing out whimpers he himself never heard before, his jaw slacked by the sudden song on his heart. You’re only riding him, but can you feel how every bit of his body surrenders to you? You’re following through on your word, yet here Nanami is, chasing after your swiveling hips with mindless bucks of his own.

You’re too clever at having him dance in your palm, and that’s something Nanami can’t help but plot against. He isn’t one to challenge the powers that be—but something about this moment taunts the very chemistry of his psyche.

He has to even the playing field, though, in his current state of writhing and plight, all he has is his hands.

For his ruse to taste success, Nanami’s hands can be found bound to a particular parlour of your back—the lumbar, or…your lower back. He’s sure you’ve forgotten about his speech from earlier, but he meant every word. For what he possessed in his hands was both the power and knowledge to have you cum without any real need for penetration.

And while that holds true…he does have you on his cock right now, working so hard to relieve him. He’s musing over the idea, hungry to see how hard you’d cum if he picks up his teasing.

His thumbs slot themselves back along those dimples he’s grown fond of, his sinking digits shattering the powerful strides of your hips.

“Oh—You’re back to that again?!” You jolt, your hips seized by his mischievous ploy.

Nanami’s drinking in your exasperation with a smirk. “Told you, there’s so many ways to make you cum.

He’s bracing for the torturous words you have in store for his brash rebuttal. That’s the fate he’s anticipated to befall him.

He wasn’t, however, prepared for your encircling arms to pull him closer, your bodies simmering against one another. He didn’t anticipate the kisses you’d place at his gaping lips, gentle and sweet. And there’s no possible way that Nanami could have orchestrated the words set to leave your lips.

“Oh yeah? Then let’s cum together, Ken.”

“Are…you close?” he whispers softly.

“Mhm,” you nod, “And I know you are too.”

Nanami’s taken aback by your tentative nature. You know his habits, mannerisms, and now how dangerously close he was to spilling in your womb. He had the strength to press you up along the pool walk to finish himself off, but where’s the fun in such bold novelties?

Because if he did follow through on that thought, he’d be missing out on bearing witness to your eyes screwing shut when you drop your hips a little too hard, bringing his cock right back to your sweet spot.

“K-Ken, I’m–!” That’s all he needs to hear, not when your face paints him a clear picture. With your eyes rolling back into your skull, your forehead sunken along the crook of his neck, and that breathless sob warming his skin—you were right at your peak.

It doesn’t help his cause that you get all the more sensitive, that minor mistake throwing your whole body into the heat of chaos. You’re ruining him in flittering clenches, pulling every ounce of Nanami’s strength to the surface of his skin.

He’s seeing stars in his eyes, white patches seizing his vision as your poor pussy stutters around him. He knows what’s due to follow—that all-powerful weight that pins him down and forces that tragic cycle to crash down on Nanami.

His legs are subdued by a trifling rip of nerve, rendering Nanami’s reprisal futile. He’s going to cum, that’s the pill he has to swallow. But he can’t begin to fathom that he’s going to cum inside you.

Sure, it’s a thought he’s paid some time too—every day for the last three years. But now that he’s faced with that want, he can’t help but rebuke it completely.

He’s reaching between your bodies to grab at his cock, wedging himself from your heat with a sob. You were so good to him, even better around him and now he’s forced to bear his orgasm alone while your own courses through your veins.

“‘m…c-cum—cumming! Fuck, ‘m gonna cum, Baby!” He seethes, clenching his jaw when his overworked body is faced with the lone choice of release. A release that has opal hues spitting from his twitching slit, thick ropes of white staining the water.

He’s devastated by a hitching breath that leaves his stomach caved and his burly chest shuddering for air. Nanami’s head is sent to roll, dropping back as he’s doing his best to hold back that woeful moan.

And he’s still going, still tainting the water with his definition of healing. The hot spring was healing, but your pussy was the epitome of rejuvenation.

“Hey,” Nanami’s hitching voice rasps as he strokes the small of your back, “Still with me?”

All you can deliver is a sheepish nod, your arms still clinging to Nanami for support. And he’s got you, his hands cradling your delicate body through the reeling fatigue that comes after such bliss.

He’s exhausted, worked raw and to the bone, but Nanami still finds the energy to pull both you and himself out of the water and into the bedroom.

With just the indirect rays of light from the hallway, Nanami gently lays you to rest upon the vast face of the bed. You look so peaceful like this, nodding off with a faint grin plastered to your puffy lips. He finds himself inclined towards you, hovering above you as he dusts the back of his hand past your cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” he coos, “You did so good for me, so proud of you! I’ll take care of the rest, don’t worry–”

“Ken?” your hoarse voice croaks out.

Nanami immediately gives in to you, concern dressing his face with knitted brows. “Yes, Sweetheart?”

Your hand creeps towards his own, your fingers weaving around his own. He can tell you have a question on your mind, it’s begging to come out too.

“It’s okay, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Well…can I still come to work Monday?”

Nanami’s eyes soften as he peers over to you. Even in this darkness, he can make out the frown playing at your lips. His hand comes to soothe all your worries, cupping your cheek with his thumb and stroking the highs of your cheek.

“Of course, Baby. You can come in, leave early, whatever you want.”

“So then…can I still work with you?”

That question troubles Nanami, striking him inaudible as he cautiously considers his answer. If he had things his way, Nanami wanted you to go shopping, to spoil yourself with spa days and classy cafes. He wanted you to enjoy the bliss of free time, while he worked to ensure all your dreams could come true.

But then again, he didn’t have it his way.

He has you to consider now, and if working with him brought you joy, who was he to ruin that?”

“Well…I want you to go have fun, go shopping, go to the spa. But that’s what I want. I also love having you at the office with me too so…if that’s something you really want, then…”

“It is! Now that we’ve figured that much out…let’s go.”

You make an attempt to stand, only for Nanami to catch your trembling body within his care. “Um..where are we going?” He asks, draping an arm around your waist.

“To shower. I may be tired, but I think I can handle a shower with you…and only a shower, Kento.”

“That’s fine by me. But, since you’re up…we should also plan out what we’re doing tomorrow. I was thinking we leave here at 9:30 and—”

“Kennn,” you draw out, “It’s vacation. Let things happen, okay?”

He muses at your words, “Let things…happen, you say?”

Let things happen? That’s the kind of advice he prefers to steer clear of. And yet, it’s gotten Nanami to achieve his wildest dream—turning his pretty assistant into his girlfriend. He steals one more glance at you, a look that fetches a smile to grace his timid features.

“Then, we’ll let things happen, won’t we, Darling?”

5K notes · View notes

jeonhardcore · 3 months

Text

Inside The Rolls Royce

A Forbidden Rainy Night •JJK ONESHOT

Jungkook x Yn

warning: Highly Explicit 21+ Detailed Smut

Contains : Extreme filthy/dirty talk, cowgirl, missionary, fingering, oral, cowgirl, all four, heated sucking, deep penetration, creampie, unprotected, possessive, consensual.

Word Count : 3.9k

Author Note : get ready to get drenched<3

It was raining heavily on the streets of Seoul. The sleek black Rolls-Royce glided along the Seoul highway in the night. Each raindrop over its polished exterior enhances the allure of its flawless curves.

Inside The Rolls Royce, Jeon Jungkook's grip on the wheel was strong, his knuckles strained against the wheel. With each twist and turns, his hands moved with frustration.

His dark burning gaze fixed ahead, jaw clenched with a force that mirrored the intensity of his inner turmoil.

"Jungkook, stop it! You're overreacting!" Yn's voice sliced through the tense atmosphere inside the car. Desperation laced her tone as she reached out to hold Jungkook's hand

"Jungkook slow down, what are you doing?!" Her voice was a desperate plea, barely audible over the roar of the engine.

"You know exactly what I'm doing,"

Jungkook's tone was low and dangerous as Jungkook paid her no heed, his frustration boiling as he pushed the car to its limits. "You danced with him," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You let him touch you."

It was just a dance, Jungkook," she protested, "It didn't mean anything."

Jungkook's grip on the wheel tightened, "It means everything to me," he snapped, his eyes flashing with a primal intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Jungkook, please," she pleaded, her voice breaking with emotion. "I didn't mean to upset you."

The car stopped to a sudden halt, jolting both Jungkook and Yn forward in their seats. With a forceful exhale, Jungkook leaned back, his veins visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his black shirt.

The air inside the car grew thick with tension as he took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the rain-drenched road outside.

Yn sat beside him, too stunned to speak, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath.

She watched in silence as Jungkook leaned against the seat and with a sharp exhale, he placed a cigarette between his lips, his jaw clenching as he held it there.

He flicked open his lighter with a snap, his movements were quick, He brought it to the cigarette’s tip and then lit the cigarette.

Holding the cigarette between his thumb and index finger, he took a deep drag, the cigarette crackling as he inhaled sharply. Smoke filled his lungs, a bitter release for the storm brewing inside him. He exhaled forcefully, the frustration etched in every tense muscle as he took another angry pull, the ember flaring brightly as he inhaled deeply.

Yn tried to speak, “j-jungkook?” her voice trembled with emotion, but Jungkook remained silent, lost in the haze of smoke and rain.

Desperate to break the suffocating silence, Yn reached out to him, but before she could utter another word, Jungkook stepped out of the car, his frustration palpable in the way he slammed the door behind him.

Outside, the rain fell in sheets, soaking Jungkook as he closed his eyes, letting the cool water wash away the heat of his anger.

Yn wasted no time in following him, her own body soon drenched as she stood infront him,

"Jungkook, please listen to me," her voice barely audible above the sound of the rain. "Let's talk about this."

But Jungkook remained silent, his gaze fixed on the road and he continued smoking. Yn's heart ached at the sight of him.

"Please, Jungkook," she whispered, her voice barely a whisper "Look at me."

But Jungkook remained unmoved.

"My love, listen to me I'm so-," she urged, her voice growing more insistent as she reached out to him, her fingers gripping his collar in desperate for his attention.

But before she could say another word, Jungkook's lips crashed into hers with an intensity that stole her breath away. Caught off guard by his sudden passion, Yn melted into his embrace, her body trembling with a mixture of desire and relief.

The moment Jungkook’s lips met Yn's, it was as if the storm outside had found its match within them. As their lips pressed together more firmly, the kiss deepened, transforming from a tentative connection to a consuming fire.

Jungkook’s hands travelling at her sides, found their place on Yn’s waist, fingers gripping her firmly. The rain poured down, soaking them both, but neither seemed to notice. The heat of their breath mingled in the cool, rainy air.

Yn’s hands slid up to Jungkook’s neck, her fingers gripping through his wet hair, pulling him closer, urging him to give in to the raw passion. lips parting and tongues meeting in a clash of desire. His mouth moving against hers with a hunger that spoke of frustration, anger, and an unspoken need.

When they finally broke apart, gasping for breath. She could see the fire in his gaze.

"I want you," Jungkook's voice was low and rough, each word dripping with raw desire. "Here, right now.”

Yn's breath hitched, her heart racing as she swallowed hard, before she could respond, Jungkook's tattooed hand was around her wrist, pulling her with a sudden force.

In a blink, they were inside the back of the car, the door slamming shut that cut through the noise of the storm.

With a speedy movement, Jungkook placed Yn on his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist. Their lips met.

Yn’s fingers tangled in his wet hair, her grip was tight.

Jungkook’s hands roamed over her body, one cupping her breast through the fabric of her dress. The other hand gripped her waist, fingers pressing into her skin as he drew her closer, moulding her to him with a possessive fervour. A moan escaped Yn’s lips, muffled by the heat of their kiss.

Yn’s grip on Jungkook’s hair tightened, as she kissed him back with equal intensity.

Jungkook broke the kiss, his voice a husky whisper against her lips, "𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬."

Without hesitation, Yn leaned in, her kiss more forceful, her mouth moving with a newfound hunger. Their breaths mingled, heavy and ragged.

In a swift motion Jungkook’s hands moved to the zipper of her black dress, his fingers unzipping it from behind.

Yn’s dress slipped from her shoulders, the fabric parting like a veil to reveal the soft, delicate, bare skin. Jungkook’s hands moved with a possessive grace, exploring every inch of her exposed body as he admired her beauty.

Within seconds, Yn found herself only in her innerwear, the bra clinging to her breasts as she broke the passionate kiss, tracing a path to Jungkook's earlobe.

Her lips brushing against his earlobe with feather-light licks, she teased his metal hoop earrings with delicate licks before gently sucking on them, sending shivers down his spine.

A low moan escaped Jungkook's lips, a silent plea for more as he leaned into her touch.

Suddenly, Yn's lips parted, making a sloppy sound as she began to suck on Jungkook's earlobe more intensely. His grip on her tightened,

Jungkook's lips with a soft, almost possessive kiss found a weak spot on her neck. Jungkook's teeth leave behind red marks all over her neck.

With desire blazing in her eyes, Yn met Jungkook's gaze, "𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞," she pleaded, her words laced with longing as she locked eyes with him.

Without wasting a single precious moment, Jungkook's hands moved with purpose, swiftly removing Yn's innerwear, revealing her completely naked.

He guided her gently, laying her down halfway across the backseat of the car.

As Jungkook lowered himself, his fingers tracing patterns across her skin as he worshipped every inch of her body.

Yn lay before Jungkook, her eyes reflecting an intense need.

Sensing her desire, Jungkook positioned himself between her parted legs, his gaze travelling the curve of her lower body.

Yn voiced her deepest desires. "𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞," she whispered.

But Jungkook held back his eyes with a mixture of desire and control. "Not so soon, baby," he murmured, his voice a low growl.

With deliberate slowness, Jungkook's fingers trailed a path of fire along the fabric of Yn's lace panties. Gripping it, teasing and playing with it across her heated skin. As he made contact with her flesh over the fabric, a gasp escaped Yn's lips, her body arching for his touch.

A smirk tugged at Jungkook's lips as he felt the evidence of her arousal, the slickness of her desire coating his fingertips. "𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐭, 𝐡𝐮𝐧?!" he remarked, his voice thick with satisfaction as he continued to caress her, rubbing slowly over the soaked panties.

In that moment, Yn could do nothing but surrender to the sensation of pleasure, her body aching for him to touch there

As Jungkook's fingers continued their exploration, The slick, wet friction between his fingertips and her heated flesh sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her.

Her thick like jelly juice coated his fingers, creating an intoxicating wet sound that echoed in the car.

Yn's moans grew louder,

"𝐎𝐡𝐡, 𝐉-𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤," she moaned, her words melting into the air like a whispered

With a hunger, Jungkook met her gaze,

his eyes dark with desire as he asked, "𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐮𝐧?" his voice a seductive whisper

"𝐲𝐲𝐞𝐬𝐬" yn gasped

Without hesitation, Yn's response was immediate, she locked eyes with him,

But Jungkook, the master of temptation, wasn't finished yet.

With a devilish glint in his eyes, he issued his challenge, "𝐁𝐞𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭," he commanded.

His words are a mixture of desire and dominance. "𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐭."

"𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞, 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤," Yn whispered, her voice thick with passion and longing. "𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲."

"𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬," Jungkook replied, he obeyed, tearing apart her lace panties aggressively. Now she lay completely naked in front of him, exposed and vulnerable, with nothing left to cover her.

Jungkook began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the tattoos that adorned his arm, now fully visible. Yn couldn’t help but admire the artistry etched into his skin, captivated by every detail.

Throwing away his shirt, with a hunger Jungkook leaned in, his lips parting to envelop her most sensitive area

As Yn's moans mingled with the air as soon as Jungkook's lips touched her intimate part, her fingers entwined in Jungkook's hair, urging and pulling him closer.

As Jungkook began to lick, with each lick of his tongue, Jungkook sucked deeper into her folds, exploring every corner as he felt her wet juices cascade over him like a wave, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

His jawline, his nose, his lips making contact with her sensitive flesh. His tongue moved in and out on her flesh, creating sloppy sounds. He could feel her arousal intensifying. He started suck her in a circular motion.

And as Jungkook looked up, he felt a surge of pride wash over him. "𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞, 𝐡𝐮𝐡?" He teased while sucking on her.

Yn's lips parted in ecstasy, her moans of pleasure mingling with the rhythm of her restless breathing,

Jungkook's relentless assault continued as he inserted a finger inside her folds with deliberate ease.

A sharp gasp escaping Yn's lips as Jungkook's finger found her sensitive

G-spot. He started circling that spot intensely while continuing sucking with tongue and moving his finger deep inside. his movements were skilled

"𝐎𝐡, 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠... 𝐎𝐡, 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤, 𝐲𝐞𝐬!" she moaned, her voice a desperate plea for more.

He sucked on her clit, his tongue flicking and swirling, driving her wild with sensation.

"𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐦 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞," he said between licks, his voice rough with desire.

His finger moving with a wild abandon

Suddenly, there was another finger, sliding inside her with a delicious friction that made her cry out in ecstasy.

Her body shook with the intensity of it, her grip on his hair tightened.

"𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞! 𝐎𝐡, 𝐆𝐨𝐝, 𝐲𝐞𝐬! 𝐲𝐞𝐬!" she moaned, her words a mantra of desire as Jungkook drove her closer to the edge.

Her hips bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more, craving more.

𝐀𝐡𝐡𝐡𝐠𝐠𝐠!!! 𝐎𝐡𝐡𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐬!! Yn's breaths quickened, her body on the edge of release as the climax surged within her.

"𝐈-𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐦, 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤," she gasped, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Yet, Jungkook, consumed by desire, wasn't prepared to let her surrender just yet.

With a low growl, he silenced her, his need. "𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐭, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞,"

In a swift motion, he unzipped his pants & freed himself from the confines of his pants and boxers.

His hard arousal thick and throbbing with need, aching to be buried deep inside her warmth.

Every vein stood out against his manhood. the length of his shaft, as if yearning to be touched, to be caressed by the hands of his lover.

Yn couldn't help but marvel at the sight before her. Jungkook's hard cock glistened with the promise of wild pleasure, the tip so red, swollen and eager, begging to get inside her warmth.

The veins of his hardness were clearly visible, pulsing with intensity.

With a firm grip, he pulled Yn onto his lap, her thighs around his hips,

"𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲," he moaned, his voice thick with desire as he locked gazes with her, his eyes burning with intensity.

Yn's hand grabbed his shoulder as she slowly lowered herself onto him, Jungkook watched, his breath hitching in his throat, as her silken wet core tried to take his large length inside.

"𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭," he teased, a smirk gracing his lips

With a sudden forceful thrust, he buried himself deep within her,

A cry of pleasure from Yn's lips. "𝐎𝐡, 𝐉𝐤!!!" she shouted with pleasure.

"𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐬, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠," Jungkook urged, his own moans mingling with hers.

Jungkook watched how his hard member was disappearing inside Yn, a pleasurable satisfaction coursing through him.

His grip tightened on her waist, guiding her movements.

while his other hand cupped her breast. With a hunger of desire, he began to suck on her breast, his bite eliciting a gasp from Yn's lips.

As she held her own hair in excitement, Yn rode him passionately.

Jungkook marvelled at her rhythm, he kept looking at the way she was bouncing along with her round shaped breasts upon him. The sight was mesmerising.

He started slapping her breasts. With each slap on her breast, Yn cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure, her body responding to the dual sensations. Yet, she continued her movements, driven by need for release.

His hands gripped her waist possessively,

As he began to suck on her boobs, her nipples and his bites elicited gasps of pleasure from Y/N's lips. With eager anticipation, she held onto

"𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡," he moaned, his voice a husky whisper

Encouraged by his words, Yn pressed on, her movements growing more fast with each passing moment. Jungkook added another slap to her breast.

As Yn's breaths came in ragged gasps, Jungkook made a sudden move.

He pulled back, his cock sliding away from her heated core, leaving Yn in a state of desperation

"𝐖𝐡𝐲?" she gasped, mixture of frustration and need, eyes wide and pleading "𝐰𝐡𝐲'𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭? 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞,"

Her voice broke into a desperate plea, "𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝," she cried in frustration

"𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬," he murmured, his voice a low, velvety promise of the pleasure to come. "𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭."

With a swift move Jungkook turned Yn around, positioning her so that her back was facing him. Her knees into the plush seat beneath her, her body arching slightly.

With a deliberate, teasing motion, He grabbed his throbbing, hard length,

rubbing the tip against her wet, swollen womanhood entrance.

The heat and hardness of him is a contrast to the softness of her silky juicy flesh.

He watched and felt her arousal dripping against her wet flesh, the slickness clinging to his length l

“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?” he asked, pressing his length against her, the sensation electric.

“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲, 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮?”

A satisfied smile curved Jungkook’s lips as he continued to tease her,

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞? 𝐇𝐮𝐡?" Jungkook's voice was a husky whisper,

"𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐬!" she finally cried out, her voice a mixture of desperation and desire, her body trembling with need

But Jungkook wasn't satisfied

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 '𝐲𝐞𝐬𝐬'?" he demanded, his voice a seductive growl as he slapped on her ass.

"𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞," Yn confessed,

And with that admission, Jungkook chuckled softly. Without hesitation, he seized the moment, plunging deep inside her with a single, powerful thrust from behind.

As Jungkook continued his wild movements inside her, he aggressively moved in and out, each thrust delving deeper into her.

"𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐨𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠!" she pleaded, her voice a melodic chorus of desire

"𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐡 𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞!"she cried out,

With a firm grip on her hair and the other hand pressing firmly against her breast from behind, Jungkook pressed hard on her nipples.

"𝐎𝐡𝐡𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞," Jungkook moaned, his voice a husky whisper as their bodies moved in perfect harmony,

"𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤." He growled

"𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐭," he whispered huskily, his fingers tracing the contours of her body.

𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 he added, his breath hot against her skin

Yn’s breath caught in her throat, her body responding to his words with a trembling sigh.

"𝐘𝐞𝐬," she whispered, her voice a mix of longing and surrender. "𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫, 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤.”

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐡𝐮𝐡?" He growled

"𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬?"

he teased, his words a seductive invitation to surrender to the overwhelming pleasure that awaited her.

Jungkook's grip on her waist tightened as he began to fuck her wildly.

But suddenly he teased her with a slower pace, Yns response was immediate.

"𝐍𝐨𝐨𝐨! 𝐃𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫! 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫," she pleaded, her body craving the intensity of their connection.

Jungkook relished in her desperation, his own arousal reaching new heights as he continued.

"𝐌𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐡𝐮𝐧?" he teased, punctuating his words with a sharp slap to her back before thrusting wildly again.

"𝐎𝐡𝐡, 𝐘𝐞𝐬!𝐘𝐞𝐬!𝐘𝐞𝐬! 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭!" Yn moaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and longing as Jungkook started to move faster

𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝!" she cried out, her body trembling with anticipation.

"𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩, 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩!" she begged, her words a desperate plea for release.

"𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞," Jungkook promised, his voice a husky whisper as he continued

"𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞! 𝐎𝐡! 𝐡𝐡𝐡! Yn screamed with pleasure.

And with a violent move, he turned her around to face him,

With a commanding motion, Jungkook placed both of Yn's legs onto his shoulders, gripping them tightly. Her body arching upwards in response to the shift in position. She wasn't prepared for this sudden move.

The new angle allowed him to plunge deep inside her, each thrust carrying a forceful intensity that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her.

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "𝐒𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞."

Yn moaned as her body trembled under him "Jungkook," she gasped, her voice a heady mix of need and pleasure, "𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩. 𝐎𝐡, 𝐆𝐨𝐝, 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩."

Jungkook’s grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he increased the pace, each thrust hitting deeper, harder.

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮?" he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl.

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝"?

"𝐘𝐞𝐬," Yn cried,

"𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬." Yn screamed with pleasure

With a wicked smile, Jungkook leaned in closer, the new angle driving him even deeper inside her, he continued, his voice a husky whisper against her ear.

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮? 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫."

"𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞," Yn whimpered

"𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝. 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞"

"𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈’𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭." he growled, his voice a possessive, guttural rasp.

“𝐎𝐡, 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐞𝐬! 𝐈’𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐦!!!” 𝐘𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝. her voice a mix of urgency and raw desire, her body quivering with the imminent release.

“𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤, 𝐨𝐡 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡! 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩!”

“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲? 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐈’𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠?” he growled, his voice thick with lust as he watched her unravel beneath him.

“𝐎𝐡𝐡! 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟 𝐮 𝐜 𝐤” 𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞” Yn moaned

“𝐎𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲” Jungkook growled

“𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐬!!! 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐎𝐡, 𝐆𝐨𝐝, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞!” Yn screams as he hits her every spot inside. building a powerful release.

Yn’s hands moved to cup her own breasts, she took Jungkook’s hand and pressed it, digging it into her soft nipples with a mixture of urgency and pleasure

“𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞” yn pleaded and he obeyed, pressing her nipples hard in between his fingers.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she bit down on her lower lip, a moan escaping as the sensation coursed through her, intensifying the heat pooling in her core.

With a voice thick with lust and a desperate edge, she cried out, “𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤, 𝐨𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐝!”

Each thrust from Jungkook drove her higher, her fingers tightening around her breasts as she moaned louder, her voice breaking into a frenzied chorus of pleasure.

“𝐎𝐡𝐡𝐡𝐡, 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐤𝐤𝐤𝐤𝐤,” she cried, her back arching off the seat, her body quaking with the intensity of her desire.

𝐈’𝐦 𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟 𝐮 𝐜 𝐤 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠!” she screamed, her cries of pleasure echoing through the car as she convulsed around him, her release crashing over her in a wave of intense ecstasy.

"𝐂𝐮𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠" Jungkook growled

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his body shuddering as he reached his peak.

"𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤,here it comes," he groaned, his voice hoarse with intensity. "𝐎𝐡 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲.”

He sent them both over the edge, the explosive release of their shared passion filling the air with pleasure. The throbbing heat of his arousal spilling inside her. his climax exploding inside her with a loud rush of sensation.

As they trembled in the aftermath of their release, Jungkook held her close, their bodies entwined as they shared a tender lipkiss.

he whispered softly,

"You're mine, only mine."

Don't remake/repost/

my wattpad -mashbiefics

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook bts #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jk smut #smut #jeon jungkook #21+ only #romance #bts #jk #jungkook asmr #Spotify

560 notes · View notes

mysunshinetemptress · 3 months

Text

How long till I see Heaven

Leah Williamson x cowgirl!reader

Warnings: None

You return to the Ranch and back to work like you had never even caught a glimpse of the heaven that was Leah, as she returned to England and back to training for the upcoming England features back to training mode no distractions no cowgirls.

The one thing you both had in common though was every waking moment you couldn't stop thinking of the other and the short time you both shared. Yet it's months later when Leah sees a glimpse of you, Leah scrolled through Instagram mindlessly. Training for the upcoming features had her in a focused frenzy. Then, a sudden stop. There you were, grinning alongside Mitch, both caked in red dust, your hand resting casually on his shoulder, with Dakota wrapped in Mitches arms: "Congratulations to this buckaroo on another win! Thank you Y/n/n for being his rock and keeping him safe out there!"

A laugh, sharp and humourless, escaped Leah's lips. Safe? You, with your gentle eyes and calloused hands, had become the most dangerous thing in her world. A world that had shrunk to the confines of the training gym and the echoing emptiness of her flat. Every burpee, every lift, was fueled by a phantom memory - your laugh under the Nashville sky, the brush of your fingers as you'd passed her a beer.

The ache in her chest intensified. Months had crawled by since Leah had boarded the plane back to England. Reality had slammed shut, leaving the Nashville summer a bittersweet memory. She'd thrown herself into training, but the fire that once fueled her competitive spirit felt like a dying ember.

With trembling fingers, Leah tapped the comments section. Hundreds of congratulations poured in, but her eyes snagged on yours. A single, short comment: "Always a team. Time to head home and get ready for the next one." A team. The word sent a jolt through her. You weren't just a fleeting memory; you had a life, a purpose, a team. And she was just a passing ship for god sake you guys only spent a few hours together, she shouldn't be this hung up on you.

Leah stared at the screen, the weight of your comment settling in her gut. A team. It was true, you weren't some fantasy she'd conjured. You had a life, a world that existed far beyond that whirlwind Nashville night. Shame burned hot in her cheeks. Here she was, pining over a girl she barely knew, clinging to a few stolen moments.

A tiny spark flickered amidst the embers of her dulled spirit. "Time to head home and get ready for the next one." Your words echoed. Maybe that was what she needed too. Not just physically returning to England, but rediscovering the fire within herself, the one that had propelled her to the top.

Taking a deep breath, Leah pushed away from the phone. She wouldn't let this consume her. She couldn't a few hours in your presence wouldn't have her falling so hard, it shouldn't have her falling so hard.

Meanwhile, on the ranch, your phone buzzed with a notification. A new comment on Mitch's win post. A simple emoji - a single burning flame. It was from Leah, and a thrill shot through you. Leah was watching.

The next few weeks were a blur of focused training on both sides of the Atlantic. You were doing your daily ranch jobs with your father's ranch hands while helping Mitch train in your downtime Leah rediscovered the joy of the game, her passes sharper, her shots more powerful.

It had been months since the two of you had talked, months since you had seen Leah's face in person let alone heard her voice but, you hadn't expected to open Instagram to a message request from her. "Fancy coming to watch a football match."

You hesitate for a moment, replaying her comment and the burning flame emoji in your mind. You wrestle with conflicting emotions. Should you respond? She's giving you a chance to see her again.

As the week drags on with no response from you Leah begins to doubt if she should have ever sent the message but with England set to play a friendly in Kansas City against the USA the thought of possibly getting to see you again had driven her actions.

You take another two days to respond "Is it actual football or that thing you call soccer."

Leah laughs relief flooding her sense at your response "Rude, will you still come if it's my version."

You can't help but smile at your phone sitting on the side of the ring as Mitch gets thrown off the young stallion you're both trying to break in.

"I don't know the rules." Leah laughs out loud in front of her international teammates and best friends "What you laughing at." Georgia moves trying to see Leah's phone screen "No one just trying to sort out who is getting tickets for our upcoming US game." Georgia looks at Leah trying to read her before turning back to Lucy.

"All you have to know is you want me to win." You smile at the screen as Mitch shouts at you from the ground "Alright give me that your turn to get thrown."

You don't get to respond as he takes your phone pushing you towards the stallion before looking down at your screen and smiling "Alright I'll come, but I'm going to need a ticket for Mitch."

#woso #awfc #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x y/n #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #cowgirl #cowboy #ranch life #woso soccer #soccer #montana

304 notes · View notes

themotherofhorses · 1 year

Note

Does handmain!reader braid Aemond's hair? Does Aemond know how to braid his children's hair? PLS THE FLUFFFF

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

notes: DAD!AEMOND DAD!AEMOND DAD!AEMOND

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

Three hours after sundown, his mother arrives at his doorway, carrying a reading lamp and two books of faith. “Would you like to sit and pray with me tonight, Aemond?” Alicent asks, but her voice soon trails off when she notices the hairbrush clutched in his hand and the twins at his knees. Both boys toy around with their tiny wooden stick swords, offering their grandmother two toothy little smiles.

“Oh, I see that you’re quite busy tonight…” she then adds, in a tone faint with teasing.

Aemond nods where he sits, gently combing out any tangles and snags in his son’s silver-pale hair. “Their mother easily puts me to shame, as she does with most things…” he mumbles, glancing sidelong at his other son, whose own shines like moonglow in a loose braid, “-but I do believe I’ve done a rather fine job with my boys.”

Alicent hums. “Where might she be tonight? Did you dismiss her?”

Aemond gestures to his bed, where his handmaid lays fast asleep, cuddling around a pillow. As she slept, she had kicked off the blanket and sheets, and the pretty curve of her swollen belly limned in the soft glow from the hearth.

“The babe’s been stealing away most of her energy these past few days,” he tells Alicent, shaking his head. His fingers part the hair into three splits before looping the first over the second and tugging the third into the middle. “The maesters say the name day is nearing, perhaps in another fortnight.”

He refused any looks at his girl; otherwise, he’d drink in the lovely sight a bit too much like a drunken fool, and he’d prefer his mother not bearing witness to such.

Yet Alicent studies the sleeping handmaid, a shadow of a smile flickering across her lips. This time around, she had grown great with a girl, according to the maesters and midwives alike, as well as Aemond himself. He had pined so much for a daughter of his own, frequenting the sept alongside her, to sink onto his knees and pray to the Mother for a baby girl, one blessed with her mother’s features.

She hopes her son receives his daughter. He deserves it that much.

“Would you like for me to tuck in the boys for the night?”

Aemond smiles. “Ah, if it would be no bother to you, mother. I’d appreciate it…I don’t wish to leave her, not when she’s like this…” but Alicent waves him away, kneeling before the boys. “I’ll have them choose a bedtime story, and they can tell me all about their day.” So he kisses his sons on the nose and forehead before whispering a fond goodnight, sending them away with their grandmother.

And as they leave, hand in hand with Alicent, their little braids bounce with every step. The sight gives him nothing but joy and pride.

The fire in the hearth was quickly burning down to embers, and he hadn’t intended to disturb his resting girl, but he couldn’t stop himself from climbing over her. Sweeter than lemon cakes and more beautiful than all the seasons. He rubs at her bump, where hopefully his daughter sleeps too, and kisses her bare shoulder- then her cheeks and lips- and kisses her again when she murmurs in her sleep.

“You’re all I’ll ever need and more,” he breathes, nestling his head against her breast. I love you. I love you. I love you.

At that, her eyes open, and she smiles, stroking his hair. “Tomorrow, I shall braid it,” she whispers.

But Aemond snatches her hand and lifts it to his lips. “No. I’ll braid your hair, my sweet girl,” he promises, kissing each of her fingers, nipping at the skin, “I need the practice anyways.”

tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond drabble #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #handmaid!reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

2K notes · View notes

catfern · 1 year

Text

cowboy!ellie headcanons

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader

music: roses are falling - orville peck

word count: 1.2k

warnings: fingering (briefly), drunk sex-ish, guns??, yearning and just sappy shit mainly im in a vulnerable state

an: this is shit brainrot bc i've played too much rdr2 and i want ellie to let me ride her cowgirl style. this took me for-fucking-ever because i got acrylics and dropped my wpm from 108 to 67. also if i put out a poll asking what fic to post next would people vote

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✷ cowboy!ellie having the most pornographic, velvet-laced southern accent known to man. drawling out words in a whisper, that reassured wit sitting in her throat with a lopsided smirk. she’s such a tease, knowing how it gets to you, that ‘c��mon, sweetheart, you gonna make me wait f’you?’ after she trots ahead, glancing back at you under the wide brim of her hat. please, trying to make eye contact with ellie after a long day of riding (ifykyk), seeing just a glance of the veins in her neck, beads of sweat sitting in the little crevices as she leans down to her saddle bag. god, her hands!! and she looks at you, that knowing impatience and ‘okay there, darlin’?, and you can’t look at her, your head swimming and drowning in the molasses of her voice and too focused on the up, down, up, down, up trot of your horse.

✷ setting up camp for the night, bed mats a good distance away from each other, and you wake up, fire dying, moon high, and ellie is still awake, hands covered in dirt and ash and rust from her old revolver that she cleans too occasionally. the gentle scratch of charcoal on parchment, her body hunched over, protective like a creature, and when you call out to her, she TOSSES her journal into the dirt like it burned to touch. if the moon wasn’t so faint, you’d see the uncharacteristic blush fleeting across her cheeks, but too quickly, she tells you to go back to sleep, she’s just staying up to take care of the fire. you listen in a haze, and ellie tears out the five, maybe 6 pages?? of rough sketches, harsh lines etching out your body, your smile, your eyes, and stamps them into the cooling embers of the campfire.

✷ if we’re talking historically accurate cowboys, ellie is definitely the type to believe in dinosaurs!! it’s this new, fresh, science fad and everybody laughs at her for it, cause omg?? giant lizards?? nah!! but ellie is so adamant, reading every paper and pamphlet on the subject that she can get her hands on (assuming she can even read lets be so real), and she’ll tell you about it! small, reluctant meanders from more important topics, at first, but you’re kind and you listen to words either of you barely understand, and sure it’s a little bit boring, but she’s happy, and for some reason she makes it incredibly dynamic, crash coursing you on lizards that evolved (a buzz word in all her pamphlets) into BIGGER lizards.

✷ cowboy!ellie, the horse whisperer. she doesn’t teach you to ride, but you’ve never had a way with horses, cantankerous and rough, so you need a lil bit of assistance. ellie will take the lead, letting you rock behind her on your horse, your arms draped around her like common occurrence, and she’ll turn, ‘see? be gentle, she’ll listen. you’re a team, y’know?’

✷ ‘she just likes you more than me.’

✷ her laugh is boisterous, loud, it sounds like it belongs amongst the hills and caverns, like wind against rocks, ‘no one likes me more than you, flower.’

✷ one day, you’re just passing through a small town, nothing more than a few shops and scattered farm houses, and ellie spies an outlaw poster, poorly tacked to the community bulletin board. it’s her, badly sketched, sure. her chin is way too big, nose a bit askew, but it’s definitely her. and you laugh as she presses you frantically, ‘i don’t really look like this? do i?’ and it’s got some ridiculous nickname that definitely over-inflates her ego, ‘ellie 'longshot’ williams (no one has called her that ever) that she’ll parade it around like a medal

✷ ‘aw, love, do you need some help shootin’? don’t call me long shot for nothin’.’

✷ you’d get a bit vulgar, a bit defensive because, yeah, maybe ellie is actually good at shooting, and you could benefit from her teaching. but that fucking nickname, lording over your head with that lilt in her voice, and the childish, goading smile, you’d tell her to shove it somewhere the sun don’t shine and just pray luck guides your bullet.

✷ your now-so-serious scowl eats at her, so ellie has to swallow her boyish pride and shut up, simply falling behind you. gently tapping your shin with her boot to get you to adjust your stance, her hands stretching out over yours to feel out the barrel of the foreign pistol. they’re rough, calloused, unmade for this sort of gentle gesture, but you welcome the heat that they give. with a soft push and pull, like a tide she moves your fingers, your hands, to hold the gun well. her voice is a whisper as she instructs, ‘don’t hold it so loosely. stronger grip helps aim.’

✷ she’s shaking in her boots. a moment like this, tender, with you is scarcely shared. the closeness burns her chest as she feels you breathe against her, skittish but assured, ellie’s finger snaking around yours to settle on the trigger. you go to fire, and the recoil sends you backwards in a shock, ellie having to move her hands from the gun to your waist to keep you steady. you laugh something coarse, leaning back into her without a thought. adrenaline intimacy.

✷ ‘okay, maybe y’need a few more lessons before you get it right.’ it’s a selfish thought, but it cements ellie in that moment, with you just in her reach, and her revolver. she’d clean it for you.

✷ cowboy!ellie doing stupid shit, like taking longer detours to show you the scenery, the stretching fields and great mountain waterfalls, stopping to pick wildflowers (she’s a sap), or taking the extra care to saddle up your horse for you, securing the girth and not letting you touch it because ‘i don’t need you slippin’ on me.’ she takes care of you, out on the road, it’s not an official thing, but you’re off limits.

✷ ellie is kind, but sex with her isn’t. the first time, she’s terribly drunk, playing away her night in a saloon, at a poker table (she’s losing), and you’re sat at the bar, wearing that, and it’s violently throwing her off her game, so she decides to make it known that your presence is an interruption. dragging you upstairs, she’s unkind. ‘you’re not helping my luck, looking like that.’

✷ ‘how do you need me, then?’

✷ she tastes like cigarette smoke, and bourbon, and she smells like the sleek of rain on dry dirt, and feeling her all over you is intoxicating, rough. she’s quick, her lips aren’t soft but rather, a grating possession on your skin, a feeling that swallows you, melts you down in the heat of her hands. she swears, a lot, it sounds like disbelief but really, it’s a bribe. a prayer. ‘dear god, give me this, let me have this, and i will be devout.’ it’s primal, something uncontrollable. drunk, it’s worse. she loses herself in the haze, becomes complete disregard, her fingers inside you without hearing you, just feeling you. lost in you and she keeps pounding into you simply because she’s enraptured by the feeling of you clenching around her.

#ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams smut #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams headcanons #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader

950 notes · View notes

hotd-bigbang · 2 days

Text

Reveal Schedule

Please see below the cut for the schedule of when our writer's fics will be revealed.

A few courtesy pointers for participants while the event is running:

Please don't post or share your fic or artwork anywhere until your reveal date.

On your reveal date your fic will go live at 12pm BST.

You will have a full 24 hours to promote your fic - once your time is up, we kindly ask that you hold off on further posts or reblogs of it, to allow other participants their time to shine.

Artists are welcome to make a separate post to showcase their artwork, however, each fic includes the artwork provided, so this is not a requirement.

Due to the high volume of submissions, you are not obligated to read every fic, however, participants are encouraged to be supportive of each other by reblogging other people's work and leaving kudos.

23.09 - In the Wake of Silence by @targaryenrealnessdarling with artwork by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

24.09 - Avy Jorrāelan by @ineffabletargtowers with artwork by @the-common-cowgirl

25.09 - Mister Targaryen's Curious Bookshop by @the-dendrophile-bookdragon with artwork by @/targaryenrealnessdarling

26.09 - Do you Believe in Fate by @ripdragonbeans with artwork by @emilykaldwen

27.09 - Like a Cigarette (Drag Out, Never Quit) by @queen--kenobi with artwork by @/ewanmitchellcrumbs

28.09 - High in the Halls by @/emilykaldwen with artwork by @/the-common-cowgirl

29.09 - In the Woods Somewhere by @/the-common-cowgirl with artwork by @/targaryenrealnessdarling

30.09 - The Bloodmage by sapph_of_the_seas with artwork by @/ewanmitchellcrumbs

01.10 - No Time for Fear or Blame (Inside We Are the Same) by @dragonsoftheeast with artwork by @/emilykaldwen

02.10 - Kingdom of Ash and Death by @darkwolf76 with artwork by @darushi-chan

03.10 - The Maelström by @asa-do-your-thing with artwork by @/darushi-chan

04.10 - This is Ours Alone by @eiilleen with artwork by @vampire-exgirlfriend

05.10 - BOOM! by @exitpursuedbyavulcan with artwork by @lya-dustin

06.10 - Take These Broken Wings (And Learn to Fly) by @apothe-roses with artwork by @ride-thedragon

07.10 - The End is Where We Begin by @left0utsideal0ne with artwork by @/queen--kenobi

08.10 - Low and Harrowed Lies the Fields and the Heart of Me by @cocoalover1956 with artwork by @/ride-thedragon

09.10 - In the Eye by @/ride-thedragon with artwork by @/the-common-cowgirl

10.10 - Moonlight Lines by @lady-morrigen with artwork by @/vampire-exgirlfriend

11.10 - Feel Me in the Firmness Under You by @godswood-girl with artwork by @/queen--kenobi

12.10 - The Last Ember by @burning-daylight with artwork by @/vampire-exgirlfriend

#hotd big bang #house of the dragon #house of the dragon big bang #house of the dragon fandom #hotd #hotd fan fiction #hotd fandom #house of the dragon fan fiction

39 notes · View notes

margowritesthings · 2 years

Text

The Greatest Gift A Cowgirl Could Ask For

a @rdrevents Valentines gift exchange for @cowboydisaster

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader word count: 4,400 words warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit language, sexual themes, vaginal sex, mentions of death, unprotected sex, throwing up (TW EMETOPHOBIA), very brief mention of SA in the past, unexpected pregnancy, mentions of Micah Bell a/n: am I britney spears in her 2000 grammy award winning song??? because oops, i did it again. i don't know how I managed to get Bea as my recipient for a SECOND time, but it only felt right to carry on building this universe I've made for her and lying to her about it all week. Whoops.

Bea, my beloved, Happy Valentines Day. You deserve the world and Im so glad I could dedicate this fic to you. Honestly I probably couldn't have gotten the motivation to get back on my feet and write again if it wasn't for you. Thanks for everything you do bby and I hope this lives up to your 'if by some miracle you get me for your gift exchange disregard my prompts and write a TGG prequel' (yes she actually said that) idea. Love you lots xxx

taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries @delilah-grimes @luvliewriting @mrsarthurmorgan7 @photo1030 @snobbybastard

My Darling Wife,

I’m writing to you from up near Tempest Rim. I’ve tracked this bounty all over the goddamn Grizzlies and I’m ready to come home to you. I miss you so much and I’m real sorry I can’t be home in time for St. Valentines. Hopefully I can catch this bastard soon and make it up to ya. We’ll go to the theatre and sit right at the back, how’s that sound? I’ll move heaven and Earth to be beside you soon, you know I will.

I can’t wait to see you, sweetheart. I’ll be there as fast as I can be with enough money to take you out on the town. Won’t be long, I promise.

All my love, Arthur

Your finger runs over his looped script, over and over as if it will somehow will your husband out of the crumpled paper and into your bed. It’s been 2 months since the letter arrived, 2 months of the agony of not knowing if he’s dead or alive robbing you of sleep each and every night. You miss him, more than you could ever imagine one person could miss another and you honestly don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t come home.

It’s a 600 dollar bounty, it’s sure to be a tough job you constantly reassure yourself, unable to focus on anything but the absence of half of your very soul in every waking moment.

The day he comes home starts like any other. Time's arrow marches on, the sun rises and sets over your makeshift family as they work and plan and rob and hunt. You busy yourself planning a job with Karen, cushioned into your schedule between menial tasks so that it’s just that bit easier to not think about him. As usual, your efforts are in vain, but at least the chores are done, your steed Diesel is happy, and, all being well, you and Karen will have about 30 dollars to split between you when the week is out.

An hour before he comes home, everyone retires to bed, save for John (who’s on watch tonight) and you’re left alone by the campfire. It crackles and pops, embers swirling the air around you. It feels like you stare at the twisting flames until your eyes blur and burn and you can’t tell which are tears of irritation to your senses and which are your heart breaking once more.

Moments before you’re reunited with the second half of your heart, you hear John yelling. It’s instinct that drives your hand into your holster, still resting against your hip despite the late hour, and you perk up like a startled deer, straining to decipher Marston’s words.

“Who is it?!” “Arthur, you dumbass!”

Arthur.

Arthur?

“Arthur?!” It’s a breathless shout, barely heard over the rushing blood in your ears as your feet take you to your husband before your mind can even fathom that he’s here.

But sure enough, when you reach the edge of camp, heart racing, you see Arthur Morgan riding his chestnut mare straight towards you, spurring her into a gallop as soon as he lays his eye on his waiting wife. Marston probably makes some remark about who ‘decided to show up’, but to you, there is nothing but you and Arthur, two magnets parted by an unnatural force finally reaching each other again with a deafening crash.

And it is. A crash, that is, when Arthur all but throws himself off his saddle and your bodies collide, great big arms wrapping around your frame. It is then that the tears fall down your cheek, soaking into Arthur’s coat that smells so much like him it truly feels like a dream.

You thought he was dead.

Only when you’re safely in his arms, when he’s pressing frantic kisses to your head, whispering your name over and over into your hair do you allow yourself to admit that fact. You thought he was never coming back, and yet here he is. Words fail you, the overwhelming emotion settling right in your throat.

“Oh, god… oh, darlin’ I-I missed you so much…”

You feel two large hands cup your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss that holds everything and anything the past 3 months could have been had you not spent it apart. But everything fits back into place, the world starts spinning again and you’re whole the second Arthur Morgan’s lips meet yours. It lasts a lifetime, it lasts a fraction of a second. You want to stop time, keep Arthur in your arms forever and never again have to go through the torture of being away from each other. The two of you only part to throw near identical scowls at John, who is amusing himself by telling you to get a room.

Unfortunately, as Ms. Grimshaw so often reminds you all, the Van der Linde Camp is not a hotel, so tonight you will not be afforded the luxury of a private suite as John so kindly suggested. There is only your tent, hitched against the gang’s weapons wagon, the old canvas pulled around to offer a little privacy when you and Arthur first started… well, needing the seclusion.

Calloused fingers intertwine with your own digits, Arthur’s other hand flipping John off before his weight pulls you towards your little corner of camp. There's so much purpose in his stride, the need to have you all to himself, not even share you with the lord above or wildlife below, driving him forward. Driving him home.

When you’re finally, truly alone, the tears welling in your eyes glistening in the candlelight, no words are needed. Soon enough, you’ll talk for hours on end, catching each other up on every little detail of the last few months. But for now, all that there is and all that could matter is right this very second, when Arthur reaches for you, brushing a thumb over the tear tracks on your left cheek. His eyes, looking almost emerald in the dark of night, roam over each and every detail of you with such an intensity in him that you think he’s trying to remember this moment for the rest of time. You’re sure it’s one you could never possibly forget.

Arthur snakes both arms around your waist, guiding you backwards until the backs of your knees gently hit the cot and you lay back onto it. He covers the full length of you and then some, making you feel so fragile and small. It’s nice to feel breakable for once, to let go of the need to be the strongest in the room, lest you be ridiculed for being too sensitive or too weak or too womanly. Arthur knows just how strong you are, you need to prove nothing to him, so you can submit to his embrace, allow yourself to just breathe for once knowing you can break and there’s re will always be somebody to put you back together.

He lowers himself to your lips, pressing a kiss to them that doesn’t last nearly long enough. Arthur then kisses your nose, then your cheeks and chin, before trailing down to the crook of your neck. Your skin feels as though it’s on fire, so starved for the man you cannot live without that now he’s finally here everything feels that much more intense. The tiniest scrape of Arthur’s teeth against your flesh shoots through every single nerve in your body and you moan right into his ear. You can actually feel him harden against your thigh at the sweet melody of your pleasure.

Pushing Arthur’s hat off to the side, your fingers rake through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp encouragingly as he nibbles at your skin.

“Oh, Arthur… Oh, I missed you so much…” You breathlessly whisper, feeling your heart skip a beat when he pauses his movements to glance at you from under impossibly long eyelashes, jade green eyes glistening up at you.

“I missed you too, sweetheart. So so much.” His voice is soft, as if he’s handling the peacefulness around you so delicately and it causes the overwhelming emotion to well in your chest and choke up your throat. Arthur sees this, trying not to be too taken with his own surprising amount of emotion himself, and relieves you of your job of a response by directing his attention to the buttons of your shirt. You don’t remember him pushing your jacket off your shoulders, but there it lies on the floor beside the entrance to your tent, so he must have.

Despite the juxtaposition of such dainty buttonholes and such large fingers, Arthur expertly undresses your top half until you’re bare to him. He takes no time at all to take one of your nipples into his mouth, kissing and sucking at it with a hunger you feel right in your toes. You moan loudly, unable to stop yourself after yearning for this very feeling for so long.

Arthur coos and shushes you and it vibrates across your skin, not helping you stay quiet in the slightest. The hand not tugging on his dirty blonde locks reaches between your two longing bodies to begin to unbuckle his belt. You can feel your own heartbeat throbbing between your legs, your coil growing tighter and tighter by the second. It’s been almost 3 months since your bodies have joined like this, and yet you’re not sure you can wait another minute.

You’re purring for Arthur, twitching and grinding as your hand fumbles desperately at the belt. His absence from your skin is agony the second he pulls his hips back to sit up straight. Spotting your downright bratty expression, bottom lip protruding in a pout, Arthur chuckles lowly, “Patience, baby… I gotta get these damn clothes off us.” He gestures to his belt, still very much buckled around his waist. Definitely not your fault. He was being far too distracting.

He’s quick, you’ll give him that, shedding his clothes without taking his eyes off you. You burn under his stare, even more so when he crawls back on top of you to slide your boots off one by one and peel your pants and undergarments down your legs.

The heat radiates off his huge body, his cock pulsing with need. The way he’s putting his weight into his arms to stop from crushing you with his weight adds a definition to his already beautifully sculpted body. Reaching down, you brush the tip of your finger oh so gently over his rosy head, finding a bead of cum already leaking, and you snap. You can’t wait a second longer, scratching and gripping at him like he’s the air you need to breathe.

“Please, Arthur, please I need you. S-So long, it’s been so long-” “Shh, I know, princess, I know. I’m gonna take care of you, okay? Gonna take care of your pretty little cunt, I promise.” He soothes you, though his own voice is shaky from the very effort of restraining himself, maintaining his control to not drive into you and ruin you. While he whispers to you, he lines himself up at your entrance and you quiver in anticipation.

In all your years before you met Arthur, you never really saw sex as anything but something to give, or worse, something to be taken from you. You never truly understood, not until you met Arthur, who taught you it’s something to share, to experience. With Arthur, it’s different. It is connection and pleasure and it’s wonderful and god damn it, it’s addictive. So when Arthur slides into you, letting out a visceral, guttural groan as he does, everything is right in the world.

You feel so full, especially when Arthur pushes all the way to the hilt, connecting you completely at the pelvis. The moan that escapes your lips is downright obscene and Arthur crashes down into your mouth to swallow it.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been so long, or the emotion of it all, but you swear you can feel everything. Every vein and ridge, every twitch and movement of his perfect cock as Arthur slowly starts to move in and out of you.

“Fuck… s-so good, darlin. So tight- y’feel so fucking good, princess…”

You’ve never hurtled so close towards a climax so quickly in your life. His torturously slow, deep thrusts drag into your sweet spot every fucking time and trying to hold back brings a blur into your vision. Your own hips grind against his, Arthur gripping into your flesh to guide you perfectly in time with him.

“I-I’m so close already, Arthur… fuck…” You breathe out, your breath tickling Arthur’s ear and sending a visible shudder down his spine. He looks proud at your admission.

“You missed me that much, huh? Gonna cum for me already, darlin’?”

He gives you no time to respond, pressing a thumb to your clit and rubbing in time with everything else. You implode, pulling Arthur down to catch the scream you’re about to wake everybody up with. It has never felt so intense, and with every thrust Arthur fucks into you it only grows and grows, shattering you to pieces for Arthur to fix back together again.

When you return, a rhythmic thudding in your ears, the first thing you see is Arthur, of course. His jaw is fluttering madly, a bead of sweat clinging to his forehead but the candlelight makes him look ethereal. You still can’t believe he’s here, alive.

Tears start to glisten in your eyes. You’ve never cried during sex before, not for anything positive, at least, but somehow this doesn’t feel wrong. Arthur slows again, watching you, and you spot an extra shine to his own jade orbs. He knows. He feels it too.

He’s right there with you. As he always is.

He brushes a piece of hair stuck to your forehead away, and the gesture is enough to send the tears falling down the same worn path on your cheeks as before.

“I love you, Mr. Morgan…” “I love you, Mrs. Morgan…”

It seems to become too much for Arthur to stay still, and you’re glad for it. You’re desperate for the friction, already flying towards another orgasm. He’s really fucking into you this time, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in. He’s groaning and growling and you decide in that moment that it’s your favourite sound in all the world.

“I… I ain’t gonna last much longer, baby…”

“C-Cum in me…” “Huh?” He slows, shuddering at the exertion required to control his movements, “I-”

But you’re not listening to his protests, your nails digging into the skin of his back and ass and anywhere else you can reach to urge him forwards again.

“Please Arthur, I-I need you… I need you to cum with me, I need you with me…” you plead with him, not truly understanding your need but honouring it. You’ve been without him for so long, you deserve him with you now.

He appears to consider you for just a moment, before diving down to lock your lips with his. His tongue delves into your mouth, tasting every bit of you and he starts to pump into you unreservedly. His body grinds against yours and the friction is perfect and you’re so fucking full and before you can even try to hold back, you’re cumming again, stars scattering your vision, heart pounding out of your chest to find release from it’s mortal, physical cage. Your inner walls twitch around Arthur’s length and this time, he doesn’t hold back either.

His eyes fly open and lock onto yours as you both climax together. It’s vulnerable and strange, but perhaps more connected than you ever thought possible for two people to be.

Arthur’s cock twitches inside you, pumping out his spend as he groans viscerally, completely losing control of his rhythm as he thrusts into you one last time, harsh and deep. You’ve never experienced this before, with Arthur or any other man, normally erring on the side of caution when it came to such matters, but even as you come down you can’t bring yourself to regret it. Whatever you and Arthur just experienced together felt spiritual, and worth much more than a little risk.

Arthur collapses, even as depleted as he is still considerate enough to collapse onto his elbows and not crush you. He slides out of you, earning a little wince, and rolls to the side so you can rest your head on his chest. It’s like a locket that’s been ripped apart, finally fixed together with the most satisfying click.

═══════☆═══════

Two months later, life has returned to its equilibrium. You and Arthur are perhaps clingier, still in a sort of second honeymoon phase where you just can’t seem to keep your hands off each other, more so than usual. It’s a side effect of prolonged solitude, you’re sure.

The first time it happens, you blame Pearson and think nothing of it. It’s pretty early in the morning and you’re sitting with Tilly and Abigail, peeling potatoes for the stew tonight. Abigail is venting her frustrations about when John did this and John said that, and everything feels so normal. Pearson arrives, throwing a rather large, rather dead fish onto the table you’re leaning against and you feel the thud from the weight of it vibrate against your back.

It isn’t until the smell invades your senses that everything starts to feel off. It smells exactly like all the other fish Pearson has ever slammed onto that poor table, which doesn’t explain why you immediately lurch forwards, grabbing an empty bucket and throwing up your breakfast. The fish stench is suffocating and all you can do is get the hell away from it, not noticing when Abigail’s brows knit together almost… knowingly?

You skip the stew that night.

―

The second time it happens, you try not to think about it. You’re riding Diesel and almost don’t make it off him in time. There is nothing to set you off, no horse shit or rotting animal at the side of the road, and yet in an instant your stomach feels like it has been flipped upside down.

The sheer volume of your retching catches Arthur’s attention and he tugs on the leather reins in his hands to steady his mare.

“Darlin’? Y’alright?”

His concern is evident in his tone and in the tight line between his brows, which deepens when he finds you unable to respond in anything but a frantic nod. He dismounts, spurs clicking against the dusty ground when he approaches you.

“Oh, sweetheart… that’s it, easy, easy… you’re okay…”

You feel gentle circles rubbed into the tense muscles of your back as you try to get through this again. It’s not lost on you that Arthur is speaking to you like a spooked horse, but it actually really does help. (You decide to prioritise peace of mind and not psychoanalyse why that is). Eventually, it relents and you regain your composure, albeit somewhat less gracefully than you’d have liked.

“Sorry… I don’t know what’s gotten into me, maybe I ate somethin’.”

Your apology for something you can’t help earns you a sad smile from your husband, who places a loving kiss on the top of your head before reaching for your discarded hat and putting it back on for you.

“Y’don’t gotta apologise. I gotcha, darlin’.”

You know he does.

He always does.

―

The third time it happens, the luxury of denial is stolen from you. It’s early enough that your view while you sit with Abigail drinking coffee involves glorious hues of orange and pink scattered around the rising sun. It’s peaceful, tranquil. The warmth of the little metal mug in your hands and Arthur’s jacket around your shoulders is enough to ward off the fresh morning chill in the air.

There is absolutely no warning when it hits, when it happens again. You’re so goddamn sick (no pun intended) of hurling. Your eyes water and your throat hurts a little and you curse under your breath when it’s over. Abi is beside you, rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. She waits until it’s over before speaking hesitantly.

“Uh, can I ask you somethin’?”

You nod, eyes still red and glistening as you swirl coffee around your mouth to take away from the awful, acidic taste lingering.

“When did you last bleed?”

“What, like an injury? Uh, I cut my hand couple days back, but I don’t see what-“

… Oh fuck.

═══════☆═══════

The anxiety bounces around your body and you decide that you’ve become far too acquainted with the concept of nausea. You can actually tell the difference between nerves twisting your stomach and… well, let’s say it as it is: morning sickness. This is the former, you deduce, spinning both your engagement and wedding ring around your finger to give your hands something better to do than carve fingernail-shaped moons into your palm. He should be home any minute now. Any minute now and it will all change forever.

It’s quite late, but the poker game Arthur was scoping out for potential jobs is known to last a while. You’re the only one still awake, poking the embers of the campfire to keep yourself as comfortable as possible.

You hear hooves hitting dry dirt first, and it seems to trigger your fight or flight response. God, you’d love to run away from this, but that is pretty much impossible, so fight it is. It’ll be the greatest fight of your life, you’ll soon learn, one you’re privileged to be a part of. But right now, it feels like an all-consuming unknown.

Arthur can tell something is wrong the second he sees you. You’re terrible at hiding things, especially from him. He always reads you as though you have a poster advertising your feelings printed on your forehead. Arthur dismounts, kissing you tenderly on the temple and wrapping his arms around you.

“What’re you still doin’ up, darlin’? Is everything alright?” You can feel his worry vibrating in his chest as you nuzzle into his embrace.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I just… Can we talk? I kept the fire goin’.” You say it into his shirt, reluctant to move from this hold.

“Of course…” there’s something in his voice, a tense apprehension that really doesn’t help the knot contorting itself in your gut.

While you’re more than capable of keeping a fire going, Arthur is an expert, and has it healthily burning within seconds of you sitting down on the overturned log the gang has fashioned into a bench. You’re back to spinning your beautiful gold bands around your finger, trying to remember to breathe in and out every so often.

“What’s goin’ on, sweetheart?” His voice is so soft, so kind that it makes you want to cry. But you promised yourself you wouldn’t until you’d told him, because this might just be the most important conversation you’ve ever had, and you definitely won’t get through it if you’re a blubbering mess.

“I, uh… I… somethin’s happened.”

You hear his breath hitch in his throat and Arthur leans towards you, completely enveloping your hands in his. They’re sandwiched in now and you can’t fiddle with your rings anymore.

“What? What happened? Was it Micah? If he’s said somethin’ to you, I’ll kill him, the rat bastard-”

“No, no, it’s… as much as I’d love to see that, it’s not him.”

The tension releases. Just a little bit.

“I’m pregnant.”

Oh wait, there it is.

The silence is deafening, even though you’re almost certain it isn’t actually silent out here right now. There's a fire going and crickets are just metres away, you’re just shutting down with nerves.

The normally so often tense, fluttering jaw of Arthur Morgan is slack, his eyes wide and gaping at you, occasionally flicking down to your so far bump-less belly. (You should know- you’ve been obsessively looking in a mirror any chance you get for some sort of sign that this is really happening).

Say something. Please say something. Please don’t be angry. Oh, God please don’t hate me.

“I-I… You’re pregnant?” He repeats, reassuring you that you haven’t actually gone deaf, though his tone holds no indication of anything but shock. That’s probably fair…

You nod, hands instinctively reaching over your belly. It feels… weird. Holding your hands over your baby. Yours and Arthur’s baby.

“It happened a couple months back, when you got back from The Grizzlies, I think… I-I’m sorry, Arthur. I shoulda’ been more careful and-and…” You’re rambling, filling a silence that probably should just be allowed to be a silence.

“There… There’s gonna be a baby?”

There. Right there, adorning Arthur’s beautiful features, is the pull of a smile. It chokes you up instantly, so far deep in nightmares of arguments and unhappiness that you hadn’t even considered the good. You start to nod, a little bit of your fringe falling in your face.

“Yeah… There’s gonna be a baby. Our baby…”

“Our baby…” He repeats, his arm raising to brush the hair away from your eyes in such a natural manner it feels like it’s just his instinct to care for you. It is his instinct to care for you, Arthur has shown you that in every minute of every day of your marriage, and suddenly you’re not sure why you’ve been so scared.

“I’m gonna be a dad?” He still seems in disbelief, but that’s normal. It’s taken you a few days to come to terms with it, and even then the fingernail marks in your palms are still red raw.

“You’re gonna be a dad.”

It hits him. Really hits him and he all but throws himself into you, scooping you up and spinning you around as he laughs unreservedly.

“Well goddamn, I’m gonna be a Daddy!”

You laugh with him, worries and anxiety a distant memory as your feet swing around in the air. You’re probably waking the camp up, but you don’t care all that much. Right now, you’re the happiest girl in the world.

A baby. There’s gonna be a baby. Arthur’s baby.

Really, it’s the greatest gift a cowgirl could ask for.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x y/n #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redepmtion 2 #arthur morgan rdr #rdr2 arthur #rdr valentines change

557 notes · View notes

hithisiszooz · 1 year

Text

Cowgirl Ember and her adopted brother cowboy Plas-y

based off of this heheh

#danny phantom #vlad plasmius #ember mclain #they are besties now dw #this took me 2 seasons of Daria to finish #cowgirl ember #zooz art

914 notes · View notes

thepixarau · 1 year

Text

Wade: may I have one of your fries?

Ember: of course! Can I have a bite of your burger?

Wade: absolutely not.

Woody, to Jessie: some “perfect couple”, he won’t even share his food with her.

Wade: it has avocado on it. She’s allergic to avocado.

Wade: ..are you so jealous of our relationship you want Ember to die??

#pixar #the pixar au #incorrect quotes #incorrect pixar quotes #wade ripple #ember lumen #ember x wade #woody the cowboy #jessie the cowgirl #source: big bang theory

73 notes · View notes

deandoesthingstome · 1 year

Text

travel the breadth of extremities

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia X Forest Nypmh!OFC (Fithra)

Summary: Your job is to ferry travelers through the dangers of your forest. Your charge isn’t used to needing someone else so badly.

Warnings: There is sex in this story. It’s pretty tame. Some oral (m and f receiving), some standard p in v positions (cowgirl, missionary, I think that’s really it but if you find something else let me know.) NSFW, +18, NO MINORS

Word Count: 6k

A/N: I listened to Hejira on repeat almost the entire time I wrote this story. The title comes from the lyrics. I hope what I felt about this tale translated to the page for you. I made up a bunch of stuff. Also, I don’t own Geralt of Rivia or The Witcher, but I own this OFC and the words here. Please don’t repost. Likes, comments, reblogs are amazing.

"You should stay on your horse. And we have to keep to this path." I sighed heavily, frustrated at having to explain the situation yet again to this tall, silver haired man who had approached asking passage through the Faerlaith Forest.

We hadn’t spoken about much, other than his need to travel to the other side faster than a journey around the outer edges would take. I didn’t ask for a name because we have no need for that. And money wouldn’t be exchanged because it’s superfluous here. But from the moment we'd struck our deal, he'd already begun attempts to change the terms of our agreement. There weren't many, honestly. Stay on the horse. That was basically it. But this man, this witcher if my ken was to be trusted and it usually was, was not interested in being led along like dead weight.

“You’re sure we can't cut across the underbrush here? It'd be faster,” he groused, shifting to reposition himself securely in the saddle as I glanced over my shoulder with what I hoped was my best stink-eye as I led him along one of many paths with varying widths through the lush and dark greenery.

“You'd think so.” I’d already explained this to him at least twice since we set out from the forest’s edge, close to Gilgaard in what this man had called The Far Lands. To me, we were simply home. But this home was hostile territory to outsiders. Only the desperate and hurried ever bothered an attempt to cross Faerlaith on their way anywhere. Worn paths well clear of the forest would take any creature where they wanted to go, albeit hours or days longer than a trip through the forest. Usually.

“And I can't get down?”

This question again, spoken with a gruff I was slowly getting used to.

“As I said from the outset, the ground in this forest is attuned to a certain presence and pressure. My footsteps and your horse will do you no harm. Your heavy gait would doom you.”

“I can walk lightly.”

“Not likely,” I snorted, barely able to contain the laughter bubbling inside. I’d watched this man approach, reins of his steed in hand. He moved like he walked through honey, seemingly in no hurry, oddly enough. He was nimble, agile, stealthy to be sure. I could even imagine him cat-like. Maybe, wolf. But he couldn’t mask his weight when he walked no matter how quickly he might bound from foot to foot. Our land would not abide.

“Hmmm…”

His low growl stirred an ember in the pit of my belly. One best left unattended, or so I’d always been advised. Passers-through were usually not of the ilk my kind cared to entangle with. But this man…

We walked on and I was grateful for the silence that settled over our tiny party of three. Of course the horse counted. How could she not? But the lack of grumbling allowed me to shift all my focus to the air around us, searching for telltale signs of danger, feeling for the practically imperceptible changes in pressure.

“So it's a certain gait that’s needed?” His voice caught me off guard for a moment as I realized he really would not let up.

“Mmhm.,” I answered, about to leave it at that. But maybe the conversation would be nice. It really wasn’t often anyone new came through. I decided to use his curiosity to my benefit, practicing the art of voice that wasn’t needed with my kind. “And pressure of step.”

“And you've mastered this gait?” he inquired.

“I was born to master it, so yes. Oh, and you'll want to be sure your horse...what was her name again?”

“Roach.”

“Yes, you'll want to be sure Roach doesn't try to feed or water along the way. I had you attach the leg guards in case the path gets too close or overrun with shrubbery. Her hooves are fine, but the skin should be covered.”

“The plants are dangerous?” he asked with incredulity.

“The water in the streams that lace through this land to feed them is, yes.”

“Hmmm..” he growled again, the low throat reverberation permeating the air.

I hoped he wouldn’t ask how that came to be, that water flowing into the forest turned immediately toxic to anything not of the forest. That part of our heritage was kept hidden from all but the tribal elders. As if it would harm us to know why or how our land became so maleficent. In all my many years, though perhaps less than my somewhile companion, I was only taught how to hold the forest in high regard as I was nourished and sheltered, as well as to endure. I always considered it a wonder few ever left.

He seemed to consider it for a while as another silence fell and we walked further on into the depths of Faerlaith.

“Are you sure I can't walk myself? I’ve been studying the gait.”

“You've a hard time not being in control, don't you?” I laughed gently over my shoulder. It was amusing, this man who simply would not be told no.

“You like being in control?” he asked, a hint of something dangerous deep behind the words.

“Not especially. It's just what I do in this forest.”

“And out of the forest?” he asked.

“I could take it or leave it.” I honestly hadn’t spent much time out of the forest, so I’m not sure what those words were meant to convey. But I’d heard them once before, from a group I’d led through the bitter land and I liked the way it sounded.

“So I'm to sit here, on my horse, while you lead me, how far is it? Through the forest?”

“We're about a third of the way through now. And yes. You just sit.” I turned my head to glance at him with a small smile over my shoulder again. “On your horse.”

“And watch.” I nodded in answer and he returned another low hum.

He was only silent for a few more moments this time.

“You can't teach me this walk?” It was definitely becoming amusing. I had a sense this man wasn’t verbose under normal circumstances, so I found it oddly endearing he couldn’t help himself here, where words were rarely necessary.

“It's the weight, too,” I replied.

“But I'm on the horse,” he countered.

“The ground doesn't know that.”

He gave me another contemplative hum before continuing.

“It's a nice walk.”

“You've taken notice?” I was grateful he couldn’t see my eyebrow arched in curiosity. Why, I couldn’t say at the moment.

“I've had nothing to do but notice. It's...pleasant to see.”

I was about to ask if was sure he was talking about the walk when I spotted a Wrythe up ahead. The spirits were as dangerous as any other thing about the forest, save my tribe. The fact that this one had made itself known in enough time for me to turn back on our path to locate another route to the other side was puzzling. But it also meant I was distracted, and that my attention had faltered from my duty.

“Why are we backtracking?” he asked as I carefully maneuvered Roach around in a wide part of the path.

When I was sure her hide was clear from the surrounding shrubs, I turned to answer.

“Don’t look back, but it’s gone now anyway. Still, there was a danger up ahead and now that this path for this journey is known, we have to find another way.”

“But we have to be already half way through. How far back must we go and how much longer will it take?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t say. I had hoped we could take the most direct route. I usually don’t have this kind of trouble. But I was sensed. And for now this trail is closed to us.”

Like a fool, he looked back.

“I don’t see anything.”

“I’m ignoring you for now. If you want to take your chances, be my guest, but I struck a bargain to ferry you safely through this forest. I’m going to keep moving and it’d be great if you stayed with me so I could finish my task.”

“But you’re going backwards.”

I didn’t respond. I had to recenter. Something was off. Could have been my balance, with all that twisting and turning as I attempted to view the witcher both surreptitiously and obviously, when our conversation warranted. Could have been the conversation itself. Something about the way he admired the gait. My gait. Had that caused me to falter?

We traveled back in silence again as I scanned the forest floor for the next fork that would allow us to turn back toward the exit location he had requested. Once I found it and had traveled a ways along the narrower line, I felt grounded enough to make another attempt at conversation.

“Can I ask, since I didn’t before? How is it you made it to Gilgaard without knowing about this forest or its dangers?” I called out, hoping the sound would travel over my shoulder and back to him without a turn of my head or body.

“What makes you think I come from the direction we’re headed?” Either my voice carried well or he had better hearing than most outsiders. “And you don’t have to shout.”

“You mentioned The Far Lands. Only someone not from here would call it that. And you don’t seem particularly aware of the specifics of Faerlaith.” I kept my gaze scanning the terrain in front of me, seeking out patterns or disruptions thereof. “You also don’t appear to be from around here and I had assumed you’d simply gone around us on your travels East. But usually those who choose to travel around us know why they are doing so.”

“Fair enough. I’ll admit these lands are completely new to me. I’m decidedly unaccustomed to being this unaware of my surroundings.”

“How did you even know to come this way?” I asked, always curious about why a new traveler chooses this direction.

“An old man, who come to think of it, may not have actually been an old man, heard me ask around the tavern about the fastest way back West. I’m already several weeks past due as my business in The Far Lands took longer than expected. This was his suggestion.”

“And what was your business?” He was silent and I took that to mean his business was off limits. “Alright then, how much did he tell you about where you were going?”

“Only that I’d need to seek an obvious inhabitant and strike a bargain. He mentioned the paths through were difficult, but I thought he meant twisty or hard to follow. He didn’t mention anything about poisonous water or vegetation, or spirits that turn you back when you’re halfway through.”

“Odd. Most folk who know about the need for a guide, also know exactly why. What a wonder he didn’t apprise you. Are you sorry you followed his advice?”

“It’s been a pleasant enough journey so far. If we can make it out by the end of the day, I’ll take the win.”

We walked on in what had become a comfortable silence. I could feel my belly begin to rumble but I felt rude eating when I couldn’t offer any of my food to my charge.

“Have you brought provisions with you? Any food, or water?” I asked, realizing I should have done so before we stepped into the tree-line. It would have at least given him the opportunity to go back for supplies. But when he told me where he wanted to exit and I calculated the crossing, I didn’t think we’d be stuck this long.

Another lesson learned in my lifetime apprenticeship as a forest attendant. I’d been given so little instruction and I couldn’t help but wonder when I’d actually lose a visitor because no one had told me a key piece of information.

“I have enough for the evening. And something for Roach. I suppose I’ll need to give her my water, since she can’t drink from here.”

“It would be best. I’m so sorry about that. Usually travelers know what they’re getting into. I really should remember to ask next time.”

At exactly that moment, another Wrythe appeared in the distance. Still far enough away that I had time to consider where to turn around or turn off next, but certainly in my intended path direction.

“What is it?” he asked, as if he could sense the shift in tension I held.

“We have to change route again.”

“What happens if we just move forward? I have a hefty sword, I could just…”

“You couldn’t.” I knew that for a fact.

The bargains we struck for these passages were usually fleeting in nature. A favor to be curried later. Nothing truly tangible in the moment. Rarely, a brash young satyr would demand a weapon as payment. I always avoided such items, as it felt in direct opposition to the balance our kind struck with this forest to survive. But sometimes the outside trappings enchanted our kind. Those foolish young ones would find themselves face to face with a Wrythe, brandish a sword they only thought they knew how to wield, and end up missing limbs at best. The Wrythes were not to be trifled with.

“But I am an expert swordsman,” he responded, after listening to my tale.

“Good sir, I’ve never had anyone tell me anything with so much certainty. The Wrythes cannot be defeated. Only avoided. No one who has ever attempted to destroy one has escaped unscathed. And the Wrythe continues on.”

“There must be something…” I heard him mumble to himself. I had acute hearing as well.

We had just turned off to a new path, one I was sure would actually swing back around to meet up with our original route, a short distance past where we’d encountered the first Wrythe, when a third one made an appearance, though luckily off to the side and only audibly. But any more attempts West at this point would be deadly and I couldn’t risk it.

“We are not getting out of here tonight.” I tried to remain calm, but this had never happened to me before. I wasn’t sure what the next choice was, other than that I couldn’t go forward. And I needed to think. Something had disturbed my highly developed orienteering skills. “Please, no more talking.”

I eased Roach back around and up a short hill to a tri-fork. Glancing down each path, I caught a welcome sight and chose to follow the left-most branch. A short while later, a small clearing appeared along with an ancient dwelling surrounded by a raised walkway. Enough room for a man to dismount a horse without disturbing the earth.

“I’ll have to check the provisions, but there should be a pail inside you can pour your water into for Roach. And you’ll need to tether her up here. Now that you’re dismounted, her weight will betray her. And she can’t graze besides.”

I handed the promised pail to the man and hopped off the porch with the other larger tub I had also found. Though it wasn’t the way I’d hoped to finish the day originally, luck had shifted to my side when I noticed the shelter and my mood was turning away from annoyed again. I set the vessel on the ground in the middle of the clearing and turned to see my companion wondering after me with a curious glance.

“If you have any magic powers,” I called playfully as I made my way back, “you should pray for rain tonight. Anything caught in that tub will be fresh and unburdened by the canopy of the forest. So it’ll be of value to you in the morning. Come inside,” I offered, squeezing by the horse and entering the small shack.

“Do you?” he asked.

“Have powers? Some. Though I don’t have the divining powers. I can cast a short blinding spell, to hide if I’m in the open. And I can speak through the roots. Not all of us can.It’s taken a long time to master, but I still have plenty to learn.”

I set about building a fire to keep the hut warm for the evening, then sat across the table from my guest. I studied his visage. His strong, square jaw roughly covered in a day’s growth. His cleft chin and full bottom lip. His brows furrowing towards his golden eyes.

“Since we’re stuck here for the night, could I ask your name?”

“You didn’t need it before, when we struck our bargain,” he quirked an eyebrow at me.

“True. And I don’t actually need it now. But I thought it would be nice to know, since we’ll be together at least the night and well into tomorrow. I’m Fithra.” I wanted to extend my arm, to bind against his in greeting, but I hesitated too long and now he was answering me.

“Geralt.”

“Geralt. That’s a strong name.” I pulled my food from my pack and watched as he prepared a small feast from his. He was guarded about it before, but I wondered if sharing a meal would loosen his reserve. So I let curiosity get the better of me and asked. “What do you do, Geralt? For a living?”

“You don’t know?” he asked, seemingly surprised.

“I have an idea. But to be honest, the stories were all told as somewhere-else tales. I never knew they were true.”

“Many might wish they weren’t.”

“Are you a witcher then?”

“I am.”

“Must be maddening for you,” I conjectured, taking a small bite, conscious of the way his eyes seemed drawn to my mouth.

“What’s that?”

“Well,” I swallowed and dared a small lick of my lips, “if the tales are true, it must be torture that you aren’t able to use your powers to defeat the Wrythes. Since they can’t be defeated.”

“Everything can be defeated.” He took a bite now, and gave me an opportunity to gaze as he had.

“No one here knows how. And we’ve lived with the Wrythes for, well…since forever.”

“It’s usually true that when a people don’t know how to kill a thing, they name it unkillable. I’ve met plenty of beasts like that in my time. They don’t exist anymore.”

I fell silent with his words, unsure how to respond. I considered everything I had ever been told about the Wrythes, which amounted mostly to how to avoid them. What to do when I encounter one. Everything was some variation of “stay away” and not one piece of advice about how to harm them. Because we couldn’t.

“Do you know how they came to be?”

“Pardon?” I was shaken from my ruminations by his deep intonation.

“The Wrythes. Do you know how they came to be? Everything comes from somewhere, or something. And its destruction is often found in that detail.”

“No one ever said.” I sat dumbfounded. Suddenly, with a chill I hadn’t felt before, I remembered kin who had left the forest for good, searching for something more. What more, I could never say. “There are some who may know, but they keep the secrets.”

“What need do your people have of secrets?”

I thought about his question, even if he didn’t realize what he was asking. He couldn’t possibly know at this point that my people don’t communicate through words at all. We simply know what others are thinking and they in turn know what we are thinking. It was generally helpful in all areas of forest life, including coupling.

And as I considered what it would be like the next time I coupled with someone who knew exactly what I was thinking, I also began to imagine what it would be like to actually teach someone what I wanted. And to learn what they wanted also. I wondered if it would feel as exhilarating as learning my forest powers. If each time a discovery was made, I’d feel a fresh tingling, not better than the known, just new.

But before I allowed myself to drift too far down that desire, I also realized this must also mean that not everyone can know everything everyone else is thinking. The elders had kept this from us. This origin. This danger. They kept the lore hidden and didn’t share and somehow I’ve allowed myself to believe what they said because why, but more importantly, how could they lie?

And yet they had. They had lied. They knew and we didn’t and they were able to keep it from us. It felt as distant and unknown as each power I might learn to strengthen my place with my people, in this world. Something to uncover.

Geralt watched me with steady eyes as I went through all the emotions that arrived with each passing thought. I wondered if he knew the moment I almost allowed myself to think about him learning my secrets. And I realized this is how they keep secrets. And I didn’t want that.

“I don’t have a need for secrets. My people may, though they pretend not to as well. It’s making me feel curious.”

“What are you curious about?”

“Why they keep the secrets. But also about you.” He wasn’t shocked or surprised. As if he was expecting it. Or perhaps hoping.

He licked his lips as he closed his eyes, shutting his light away from me but giving me a small look at what it might be like to make him shut his eyes with pleasure. The kind of pleasure that shone right through every fiber of a being so that even with eyes shut, the power and the energy might still break through.

I was eager to feel that with him and so I asked him if he would join me in the bed. He came without hesitation, grasping my shoulders to turn me toward him and leaning to press his lips against mine with an urgency I hadn’t expected. This was his desire as much as mine. I hadn’t enchanted him and for that I was grateful, because now I would be able to show him exactly what I needed and I could ask him to show me what he needed as well.

It would be brand new and exciting because there would be no expectations. Everything would be unfamiliar and all we could do was let each new touch, new caress, new kiss, take us deeper into the evening with one another. He undressed me, not as slowly as I would have preferred, and soon I lay naked before him.

“Would you like me to help you as you helped me?” I asked, eager to see him as naked as I was.

“I would like you to touch yourself for me.”

It wasn’t the answer I imagined but it was exactly the answer I was waiting for. He wanted me and he wanted me to prepare myself for him. There was no great need to add to the moisture I already knew was building up between my legs, but I felt an overwhelming desire to let him watch my tongue trace around the tips of my fingers..

The groan he let escape his lips at the sight told me how right I was. I teased my forefinger and middle finger and let him imagine exactly what I was thinking, which was how much I wanted to do this to his cock if he would finally release it from his clothing. As he moved to unbuckle and unbutton, I shoved my wet fingers right into my cunt, glistening before his wolfish gaze.

He didn’t linger on his clothes. If I thought he undressed me a little too fast, it was nothing compared to the speed with which he removed each artfully tailored article of clothing. His armor was admirable and clearly crafted by a skilled artisan, and yet it paled in comparison to the sculpted body beneath it.

I watched his muscles ripple with every movement and the sight of him made me press into my core faster and deeper with each new feature I was graced with. His shoulders, wide and commanding. His arms, bulging. His chest, taut and sprinkled with curls that begged to be combed through. If I wasn’t otherwise occupied, I would have reached out to stroke him,

I could only imagine his hips thrusting into me; his cock, enlarged and springing from between his tree trunks of thighs. I wanted him to sit so I could rub myself along them, leaving trails of slick in my path.

When he was finally naked, he dropped beside me in the bed and kissed me hard again.

“Mmmfff. I cannot believe that a mere twelve hours ago you were but a stranger to me and I was promising future assistance and now we are here together in this bed. It seems apparent, but I feel I must ensure you are as welcoming of this as I am.”

“Welcoming?” I scoffed. “This is more than mere welcoming, Geralt. This is a promise fulfilled.”

He paused for a moment and I froze, worried he didn’t believe me. If he thought I was tricking him and would demand another promise in the morning, he would be wrong, but I couldn’t identify what he was thinking. That mysterious mind was now turning slowly to enemy and I understood why we had to keep everything in the open. Secrets make enemies.

“This is no trick. You made the promise of a promise. You didn’t know what it might be, as neither did I, but you agreed to the term and accepted my guidance. Now I am asking you to pay your favor early. To trust that I would never consider this the end of my agreement with you simply because you’d fulfilled your promise before I did. Tomorrow does not bring another bargain. This bargain endures, until I see you safely on the other side of Faerlaith. On my honor. Now, please. Speak to me as you would your lover.”

“It will require no great imagination, as I already wish this myself.”

He proceeded, then, to tell me exactly how to keep pleasuring myself for his amusement. And once he had shifted his body in between my legs, he admitted that placing his tongue dead center to nip at and lick at my not-so-more-hidden flower was making him unbearably hard. He endured for as long as it took to make me cry out his name, and I held a firm grip on his white hair as a rush of wet heat poured over his face.

When I attempted to move away and turn to place my head close to his engorged member, he stopped me. “I do not wish for that.”

“Ever?” I asked, sure I’d misunderstood.

“Just right now. Just for right now, I desire your weight lifted above me. I want to lay back and watch you slide down my cock. I want to see the pleasure on your face. It couldn’t possibly make you any more beautiful than you are now, but I want to know if I’m wrong”

He helped me find my balance and then watched rapt, exactly the way he had as I had touched myself for him. At first, he allowed me to move myself up and down his shaft, and side to side, grinding my hips into him when I could manage a full descent. Once he was sure I had experienced another wave of never known before pleasure, he began to thrust and rut up into me. I managed to remain upright for as long as I could, eventually succumbing to an errant buck and falling forward against his chest. He held my mouth on his and kissed me deeply, keeping our lips sealed against one another even as he began to turn me to my back.

Every move was almost exactly as I would have wished it. Every touch, every kiss, every press, every pull. They all felt so familiar and yet so foreign at the same time. He took every cue I gave and translated it into the way I wanted him to put his hands on my body, and even though he didn’t find the spot I thought I wanted him to find, he found another. And the trembling I felt begin in my bones was nothing compared to the cry of ecstasy he drew from me before he roared with a final thrust.

It was as late in the evening as the early morning hours when I woke to find him seated at the edge of the bed. The fire embers were still burning low and I wondered if he thought we needed another log of slow burning knup wood. I was startled when he spoke.

“I can hear them.”

I was about to ask him who when I, too, heard the Wrythe’s cry. How had he not heard this before? In the woods, when my hearing had allowed it. I thought our senses were well matched.

“Is it always like this?” he asked.

“Like what? What exactly do you hear?” I countered, realizing I couldn’t be sure if he was hearing what I was. His answer confirmed it though. And as we listened to the low, mournful wail, circling the clearing knowing it couldn’t cross the open field to find us, I draped myself around him, legs across his lap and arms encircling his shoulders. I melted into the cradle of his arms as he reached up to hold me close.

“But you don’t hear what they are saying?” he asked.

“What? They don’t speak words.”

“Oh they absolutely do. They’re speaking right now.”

“Geralt. You’re saying you hear words in that low moan that you couldn’t hear not more than three hours ago?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

I waited longer than I felt I should have had to.

“Well, for ‘leith’s sake, what are they saying?”

Geralt proceeded to translate a tale that both saddened and angered me. These Wrythes, the spirits that would not let us defend a wayward traveler without injury, these forest menaces, they were protecting us. They were the ghosts of wayward forest kin, end met too soon in a hateful or violent manner, returned to their home. Cursed, as in life, with no voice as well as no unspoken connection. That skill had disappeared with the life. The ghost instead returned with moans. Or so we thought, apparently. Or had been told.

Geralt, and who knows how many others, had the ability to hear the words. If the elders knew and this is what they were keeping from us, I had even more questions than before. I slowly eased myself off Geralt’s lap to settle back against the wall and drew my knees to my chest.

“They are saying that there are still others, as far as they know, who remain outside the forest.” He turned to face me, drawing one knee onto the bed. “That they are only exceptions, souls who were killed in crime at the same rate as any other people in the world. They want you to know, there is no reason to think this would happen to everyone who entered the wider world for good, not just to make a trade.”

“But then why do they harm us when we ferry men, or sorceresses, or elves across?”

“Pure coincidence. The ones they appear around are most likely to do harm or evil to your kind.”

“But they appeared for you?”

“Ah yes. They appeared because they knew my hearing would pick up the vibration, but only after you and I laid together.”

I blinked and took in the words, as well as the small smile on his face. The Wrythes had played matchmaker. That was why I couldn’t get across the forest this time. But then would Geralt have ever agreed to this if not for the interference?

“Yes. Yes I would have.” He seemed to know exactly what was going through my mind, but it was my clear voice hanging in the air that assured me the question had been asked out loud. “As soon as we were clear of the trees, I would have asked you to accompany me to the nearest inn for an evening before I continued on my way. I still may yet.”

I was surprised to hear such an unabashed confession and felt a swell in my heart. Even though our coupling had created a connection, it appeared to only allow Geralt to hear the Wrythes. It did not afford him the ability to speak without words to me. And he had chosen to speak his mind to me with no uncertainty.

“It pleases me to know this. In fact, it makes me want to return under these covers with you right now.” He gave a wolfish grin and joined me.

In the morning, I convinced Geralt to give me one last coupling. It was slow and lazy as he made his way up and down my body with kisses, tasting and nipping here and there, paying attention to what made me squirm and then repeating the motion a few more tortuous times. He found a way to make me almost release with just his tongue on my nipple. And he didn’t mind at all as I pressed against his chest and gently eased him onto his back so I could seat myself between his legs and press my lips and tongue to his cock before I slid my mouth around and down the shaft.

I moaned around his girth and recalled how it felt to have him buried inside me last night. When I could no longer bear the memory alone, I eased off his cock and leaned back, beckoning for him to shift his body forward and over me so he could slip his dick back inside and make me come for him again and again.

It was worth the late start, especially because it had already been determined I would not be accompanying Geralt to the next inn. This one night, and now morning, would have to suffice. I was leaving the forest, for sure. The paths were still treacherous to outsiders, though as long as they stayed on horses and did not stop to water or eat, they could make it across without delay now. And without a guide.

I was no longer needed and so, yes I’d be leaving the forest to see if making my way in the wider world was of worth. But Geralt would not be joining me on my journey and nor could I join him on his. He was on his way to Kaer Morhen and late as it was. The route would be treacherous, the roads beginning to cover in snow. It was not a suitable place for outsiders.

He turned to me with gratitude as we reached the forest edge and began to say our parting words.

“I will never forget you, Geralt of Rivia. I am glad to have met you along my way and happy it was through knowing you that the curse of my people was lifted. I am fearful about what this change will bring to my home, though. Maybe more of my kin will die at the hands of travelers.”

“The land will surely still protect you,” he spoke as a sage “And I have no doubt our paths will cross again someday. It has been my experience that once a kindred soul is met, nothing but death will break the bond and they will re-meet over and over. Surely, you and I are kindred. And I look forward to the day we draw near again.”

After a final kiss, wrapped in his embrace, we finally broke free and parted ways. I headed south and he pointed north. I turned on my toes from time to time, pleased to see him peering back over his shoulder every now and then until the distance between us was so wide and he began to drop down over the hill so that I could no longer see even the top of his head.

I turned south again to make my way to meet my next fate.

Taglist:

@sillyrabbit81 , @kittenofdoomage , @mayloma , @kebabgirl67 , @fvckinghenrycavill , @geralts-yenn , @beck07990 , @itsrubberbisquit , @feelmyroarrrr , @sweetdreamsofgelato , @liveoncoffeeandflowersss , @alexakeyloveloki , @marantha , @aireraume , @angelmather1 , @lizzystuffsthings , @enchantedbytomandhenry , @omgkatinka , @littlefreya , @avengersfan25 , @thesaucynomad , @just-chirpin

Also, if you want this? @dadralt @hope-to-hell maybe?

#geralt of rivia #geralt x ofc #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia fanfic #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia x forest nymph!ofc #travel the breadth of extremities #mine #deandoesthingstome

144 notes · View notes