#does he f*** you in your veil that night? he do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vaaaaaiolet · 1 month

Text

When you run out of his work summit on the brink of tears, you can't believe that Leon hasn't picked up on how he hurt you. His only option is to apologize, but you're not listening to a word he says. So he'll just have to make you watch.

mdni i'm so serious. married f / m smut where porn is the plot THERE'S LORE I SWEAR, sour then sweet dom leon, mirror sex, EMOTIONS, aftercare :3 + 1 bad pun

a/n: anon req'd reader w/ praise kink. i really thought i did something and then i read it and i wanted to die. it isn't my writing if i don't try turning smut into shitty poetry.

word count: 2.9k // read on ao3

“I’m apologizing now, aren’t I?”

“A little late for that, Agent Kennedy,” you seethe.

Your metronome heels keep time with the irate pounding of your heartbeat. This California Ritz-Carlton hallway stretches like the goddamn Shining and you can’t seem to get away fast enough from your husband. He’s too damn good at his job, and you’re too smart to pretend that this dance the two of you are playing at is anything but a distraction, an impediment.

You are a distraction. You’ve been an unwelcome one all night.

So you’d cut it short yourself.

One keycard slice through the sensor and the sanctuary of your hotel room opens up to you, messy with the aftermath of black-tie preparation. You step up to the vanity; plant your palms on its wooden surface and stare straight ahead as if to admire your ruined mascara. It’s a formality, really. It’s not as if you need the mirror to remind you what happened in this room. Tonight began with indulgent kisses afraid to smudge dress shirt collars, hands squeezed for courage, Leon in perpetual pursuit of the train of your gown. Big dreams.

“You wanna talk? We can talk.” Leon shuts the door with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t make this difficult, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t do a damn thing,” you hiss. You stare daggers at his reflection.

“Really?” His shoulders drop. “Then what was all that with the storming off, the- oh baby, don’t look at me like that.”

Leon’s arms wrap around your middle while his nose buries itself in your diamond-laced neck. He’s good at that, that sneaking thing without leaving so much as a whisper to signal where he’s going. The higher-ups at the DSO call it stealth. You just want the man you married to tell you what the hell he’s doing before he makes a fool out of you.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I swear,” he whispers, kissing softly down your neck. “Didn’t mean it at all, I’m sorry. What’d I do?”

You scoff.

He’s testing the waters. A rough thumb finds and starts running down the divot of your spine, thank you backless Mirror Palais ballgown. Pass the smoking gun back and forth, pretend not to see the shrapnel from the bullet holes. You don’t pay Leon any heed as you stoically unhook diamond pendants from your ears, and he frowns.

“I said I was sorry.”

“I shouldn’t need to tell you what you did, Leon.”

Shame simmers sickly and strong in the pit of your stomach. You teeter on the edge of snapping altogether and consider throwing his blankets on the floor for the night – you will, actually, as soon you take off all your evening regalia. In your haste, your nails end up nicking Leon’s nose when he tries to murmur another weightless apology.

The kisses stop leaching onto your collarbone. “Don’t play this game with me, sweetheart.”

“So now you’re calling me immature?”

“Isn’t that what you call running out of my work summit? Making me chase you down?” Leon counters, running his hands down your sides in a last-ditch effort to diffuse the situation. Thinly-veiled irritation finally seeps into his tone. “What exactly did I do?”

And gosh, does that get the tears going. He’s so blind it hurts.

You tug pins furiously out of your hair in an effort to keep an impending outburst at bay. “You practically had me on a leash!”

Not once had he let you out of his sight in that dreadful ballroom. In front of all those international representatives and agents, people whose reputations preceded them, Leon had kept you attached to him with a heavy hand on your waist, glued to his hip like an untrustworthy child he’d lose track of at a supermarket. Coughs had quickly turned to snickers behind your back. You’re no agent, sure, but you could expect to have some kind of autonomy, right?

The guest badge you’d flung over the hotel room bed glints tauntingly now, respected by every security detail except the one whose chest your back is currently pressed against. It’s humiliating how untrustworthy, how incapable he made you look tonight.

Leon blinks. “You’re saying I think you can’t handle yourself?”

“You don’t have to. You showed me all night.”

Tears drip down your cheeks when he relents, his arms lifting like fog over the Golden Gate, and if you’re finally free from his clutches, you might as well take off this suffocating dress. It’s gauzy and gorgeous and completely worthless despite the stack of bills Leon paid for it, however giddy you’d been when he’d brought it home.

If only you could reach the tiny zipper perched on your tailbone.

Leon, ever the perceptive one, however, never passes up an opening whether it be zipped or not. He’s got a handy index and thumb; he puts them to use. He’s your husband after all.

“Right, okay,” he exhales sharply, tugging the chain as your back bows forward, “I did this all wrong. I thought you’d catch on when I should’ve just shown you instead.”

“Show me what?”

A hand inside your newly agape gown. A palm pivoting south to the curve of your hip, pressing, searching. Leon presses his lips to your neck in answer, but this time, it’s urgent in a way that doesn’t quite feel like remorse. He hisses.

“Tell me to stop and I fucking will, but this is my last resort considering how bad I seem to be with my words, sweetheart. How many times have I told you I’m sorry?”

“You-”

A squeeze on your hip. A direction.

“I need a number.”

The door, your neck, seconds ago.

“...three.”

“And not one of them made it inside that pretty head of yours,” Leon scowls. “Doesn’t look like words are either of our strong suits. Chin up for me, doll, and pay attention ‘cause I’m only asking this once.”

So you do, you lift your face to meet mascara-rimmed eyes in the mirror along with Leon’s sapphire-blue ones that glint right behind, and his palm drifts up to cup your jaw from underneath. He tilts it back and forth. Kisses his teeth.

“Tell me. How am I supposed to let my wife loose in a room full of criminals just like that?”

What?

Leon circles your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, pulling away quickly. Too early to indulge in this kind of affection. “Thought I asked you something, doll.”

But you hesitate, and so Leon must disappear. His final instructions are to face forward.

He dives to the floor, locking rough fingers around your ankles only to slide them up to the backs of your shins. He goes under so quick that there’s a breeze; you’re granted mere seconds to watch Leon’s blond head duck underneath the floor-length train of your dress and by then, it’s far too late to notice the fire.

Leon loves starting those.

He also doesn’t wait. Invisible flames lick up your bare legs from Leon’s dragon mouth. Red hot kisses trail up your thighs – he drops a sweet one on the inside of your right knee, makes you buckle momentarily – and these stubbled kisses of his have a tendency to sear any skin on their skyward path. You can’t remember when your elbows propped themselves on the vanity, out of instinct, maybe, to keep the floor of your stomach from falling out at the very first sneak of Leon’s tongue inside the drenched lace gusset of your panties.

But you can’t afford to be surprised, can you? Not with the line of destruction he’s left behind on his way to his destination. They say it takes one to know one.

You clutch the edge of the vanity’s shelf, suck down sobs in your throat fluttering into something indecent.

“I need you to talk to me,” he whispers with his lips pressed to your pussy. The vibration echoes up your spine, jerks your head back. “You’re all clammed up. Keeping secrets.”

Air gushes down your throat. “And you’re not?”

“Of course I am, baby, but I’m explaining, aren’t I?”

Kiss. Kiss. Suck.

You keen with your mouth shut.

He noses at your clit, prompting you. “So, where’s your explanation?”

Another quality the DSO prides itself on is your husband’s ability to sweet-talk himself out of a tight spot. That seems to includes in between your legs. Your thighs clench together in a final attempt of defiance when his mouth makes contact with your cunt. Your reflection in the mirror starts to swim at the first swirl of Leon’s tongue, and he makes quick work of you with his goal being none other than to dangle the promise of more to come, literally.

Thumbs tuck into sensitive folds, and you’re gone. Shaking at the first breach of Leon’s fingers inside you. You spread apart at his will. He dips into arousal now impossible to ignore, and when sparks finally light at the hot air Leon blows over your spasming pussy, he commits his second unforgivable sin of the night: ducking right back out at the crest of your orgasm.

You have principles. The mirror reflects Leon’s swollen lips, tousled hair damp with you when he rises from his knees, and above all this, you clench your teeth. Face forward.

He wipes his mouth.

“That’s one.”

The other two remain rhetorical.

You’re being lifted bridal-style when the seal on your mouth finally breaks. “Leon,” you tremble in his arms, “where are we?” The summit, the people; you chase his mouth for any explanation. “You’re working with criminals now?”

“Yes and no. Arms up,” Leon rasps, and tugs down what remains of your gown, crashes his mouth onto yours.

You taste yourself in his kiss. Surely that’s not an answer, is it?

“Tonight was a mission,” he continues in his feverish haste, quickly laying your naked body onto the bed before kissing down your breasts.

Pride gets tossed on the floor next to your undergarments, his crumpled dress shirt.

“The DSO couldn’t guarantee you wouldn’t become collateral for this assignment if things went south and I didn’t want to risk it. So I took you with me.”

“You brought me to a- oh! ”

Two thick fingers push into your sopping cunt. You squeal, clutch the sheets. Leon presses the ribbed flesh nestled deep inside you, carving out room for himself from his kneel at the foot of the bed. He gouges deep and you writhe. Your arousal shimmers on his fingers when he finally pulls them out and you find that have nothing to say about that.

“Go on,” he coos lowly. “Don’t get quiet now.”

Your head whirls. “You sh-should’ve told me they were dangerous.”

“And where do you think that would’ve gotten us, sweetheart? I didn’t want you panicking. Blowing cover. I had you to take care of and intel to gather, I couldn’t think straight myself. Letting you out of my sight could’ve meant losing you.”

Fuck. You don’t need a mirror to remember how antsy Leon had been before going down to the ballroom.

Hands squeezed for courage. Hand on your waist.

The vanilla and leather on his skin had reeked of nerves, and you? You’d written it off.

“I wanted to keep you safe.” Leon looks up at you now, eyes glinting in the dim light. There’s a new softness in their blue depths, a sincere apology. “I just wish you'd believe me.”

By all intents and purposes, Leon Scott Kennedy is sorry.

There’s been a lapse in judgment. Your elbows sit you up from the bed to fix it. Cupping his cheek, you lean forward to meet Leon’s waiting mouth in a long overdue embrace, one he can melt into with relief. There’s no bitterness on your tongue now. Just sweetness in the seconds you take to breathe your forgiveness into him. The clink of his falling belt promises no punishment.

“But you can’t let me off the hook just yet,” Leon murmurs when he tugs free from your latch on his bottom lip, “I hurt you, angel, and I never wanted to. Tell me I can fix it.”

He can. Your husband can fix everything, the world included. You sigh your approval, yes, yes, more, because forgiveness feels incredible as he lays your shoulders down, sets your hips straight when you twist them the first time he teases his cock’s weeping head over the soaked seam of your pussy.

“Don’t take your eyes off the mirror for a second,” Leon instructs.

He plants his palms on the sides of your head. You whimper; swear you won’t.

“I mean it. Watch yourself, and maybe then you’ll understand how crazy you drive me.”

So begins your descent.

You’re drowning, crying for air when Leon sinks into the liquid warmth you’ve saved for him. There’s so much of him to take, tight, tight, tight – your mind is a melting record. You’re breaking. Can’t disappoint him again. When your overwhelmed cunt nearly pushes him out, Leon just chuckles. He cants his hips to compensate, goes at it again. That should be enough to tell you how the DSO’s finest agent never lets a detail go amiss.

“The Belgium ambassador started tailing you by the fountain."

And to your astonishment, he starts rattling off half the world map.

“Got rid of him quick. Then there was a – oh, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me – Swedish agent, don’t remember what I did to him.”

A roll of his hips. Your nails down his back.

“Someone from Germany tried to dose your champagne. Another from Argentina, shit,” his thrusts grow erratic the longer the list grows, “two from Russia, a Japanese spy – perfect fucking pussy, oh my God…”

Your husband takes you on a trip around the globe. He’d traveled to the ends of the earth in that ballroom, kept your back bulletproof with just his hand, the one that was once a collar to you. Turns out being a Kennedy puts you on a hitlist; makes your blood run blue.

“Too much!” you sob.

You can’t take the responsibility.

But here in the dark, here with Leon, there’s just pleasure. Opulence. The back of his head is a blond crown in the vanity mirror, the diamonds on your breasts sparkle with each bounce from Leon’s cock slamming home. Even the gooey mess you’re leaving on the chiseled marble of his lower stomach shimmers. War paint from a battle won for you.

Your head falls away from the mirror and Leon guides it back without losing his rhythm. “Mm-mm. You need to see your face when you break.”

Never has a threat sounded so loving on anyone’s lips, you imagine.

Your hands tangle into his hair, you grow quiet, you clench. You’re close. This, he can feel.

His lips curve into a weary grin. “Wanted you to see why I had eyes on my baby all night. My pretty girl, all mine.”

Lucky you.

That somehow does you in. Every word of praise Leon utters makes it clear that no, he did trust you, does trust you. He trusted you enough to know you could hold your own in that lion’s den downstairs, trusts now that you’ll forgive him for a misstep born of love. And with that realization, your pleasure rides helium high.

“Shit, Leon!” you cry.

Electric pressure builds in your sensitive bud, the one Leon rubs frantically now. Gasps from your wide open mouth sweeten the air like perfume and Leon wishes he could breathe it all in, you’re beautiful when he turns you into a wailing mess. All for him.

“This one’s two, angel,” he groans when you flutter around him. No way.

His cock had put you in a trance, so warm and filling is it inside you. You’d forgotten about the deal entirely.

Your cries increase precariously in pitch. “Oh, please, please, you can’t, Leon, I have to-”

“Hold on!”

Leon presses you into the sheets one last time to free the pretty songbird singing his name. You sprout wings in the looking glass.

The afterglow is golden. The sunset is long gone but it glows in your hotel room all the same, wrapped in silk sheets and Leon’s arms.

“You’re beautiful like this, you know?” he hums, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“What, all sweaty and gross?” You wouldn’t expect him to know. He’s gorgeous. Leon is gorgeous when he makes love to you.

He nods, laughing when you roll your eyes. “Really, you do. Enough that I had to spend half my mission clawing bad guys off you. But I got it finished, and so did you in the process, huh?”

Leon drops a kiss to your forehead, murmuring one last I’m sorry, his fourth one.

Shit.

You scramble to hide under the sheets, leaving him cocking his head after you in utter confusion. “Wait, wait, what’s the matter?”

“I can’t do any more, Leon, I’m gonna pass out.”

“Do any…?”

“You only left off on two!”

Leon snorts. You soon feel a warm press on the top of your head: a sugary, schoolboy-sweet kiss.

“There you go, baby. That’s three. Apology accepted?”

And when you poke your head out of the covers to give Leon a kiss of your own, you make sure he knows it’s for apology number four.

He shouldn’t be so surprised you noticed. It’s not like you can take your eyes off him either.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

#📮 delivery #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #ao3 fanfic #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #vaaaaaiolet #ns/ft #resident evil #death island leon #resident evil death island

838 notes · View notes

peterman-spideyparker · 2 months

Text

Handful (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I’ve been editing WIPs all day, and this one was quick and cute that I just couldn’t not share first (especially since I’ve found a strange amount of angsty WIPs for me). I hope you enjoy! :)

Summary: You love Matt Murdock. You’ve fallen into an easy pattern with him, and it’s comforting—it feels like home. You love waking up in his arms, your easy mornings. That doesn’t mean that these sweet moments are immune to his special breed of Murdock charm.

Warnings: Kissing and being cute idiots in love, flirting, pet names foreplay, smut (oral - f!receiving, praise kink (Matt’s breaking out “good girl” again) p in v sex, unprotected sex—wrap it up, folks!, creampie) Matt is a sexy and smartass menace)

Other Characters: None

Word Count: IDK, this is a straight copy and paste from my notes app and is kind partially proof read😂

You roll over in bed and hum happily as your arm drapes over Matt’s middle and you snuggle him closer. You feel Matt adjust and wrap his arm around you, his fingers gently brushing against your arm.

“Did I wake you?” he whispers softly.

“No,” you yawn softly. “Nice that you’re still here in bed, though.”

A gentle chuckle rolls through him, careful to not break the peace of the morning. “You’re just up earlier than usual, sweetheart.”

You blink in the early morning light and move your head to look up at him. His hair is fluffy and sticking up at odd angles, his face is still covered in a veil of blissfulness from a good nights sleep, and happiness twinkling in his eyes.

“Good morning, Matty,” you smile.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he smiles back, leaning in for a kiss. It’s chaste and sweet at first, but with each additional seconds our lips are connected, it’s easier to get lost in him. Matt feels it too, softly moaning into your mouth as he rolls over on top of you, one hand sliding to rest on the side of your neck as the other moves to your side. Your hands happily slide around his back, your fingers gently dragging against the line of his back, brushing against a few of his scars. You kiss like this, enjoying the embraces that are growing deeper and deeper before you wiggle your hips on the mattress without much thought, signaling Matt to roll his hips into you. You break the kiss and moan out, Matt’s beautiful pouty lips pulling into a smile as he places slow, wet kisses on your neck.

“That’s music to my ears, angel,” he husks, dragging his kisses across your neck and up the other side. “Makes me think of everything I want to do to you.”

“Ah, Matt,” you moan softly.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“You’re a real handful,” you grin with a little chuckle as his lips hone in on your sweet spot.

“I’m a handful?” he echos, his morning stubble scratching against your skin.

“Mm, fuck,” you breathe softly as he sucks on the sweet spot under your jaw, your hands sliding up his back, one moving to the back of his head to tug at his hair. His hands just squeeze your hips before moving down to your legs, spreading them before Matt brings his lips back to yours.

“Matt,” you grin against his lips as he does the same.

“Shh,” Matt hums.

“It tickles!” you start to chuckle softly.

“I think I know where it might tickle more, if you’re up for it.”

“Matt!” you laugh, your hands sliding through his hair as he leans in for another kiss. His hands squeeze you, gently prodding you for a response, and you nod your head as your lips are locked. He kisses down your body, quickly moving to the space between your legs that remained bare after your adventures from the previous night. Matt licks a deliberate line up from your hole to your clit, making you moan out into the bedroom. He happily licks and feasts, enjoying the leftover slick still between your legs before he comes back up and kisses you deeply.

“Can I? Do you want to?” he breathes a gentle hand stroking up and down your arm.

You spread your legs a little more, locking your ankles around his. “I’d like that,” you hum, sliding your hands between your bodies, feeling that he’s already hard—he usually is to some degree in the mornings after you’re intimate. You give him a few more pumps until he’s a little more up, and you guide him in. You both suck in a little breath when his tip hits the very beginning of your entrance and exhale as he slides in deeper and deeper until he can’t go anymore.

“Fuck,” Matt breathes as he stills, leaning down to kiss you long and slow, over and over to shower you in nothing but love. He slowly rolls his hips to see if you’re okay to go and you nod, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him over and over.

Matt’s movements are languid and tender, your fingers lacing together on one hand while your other snakes around to the middle of his back. At the same time, his free hand ghosts over your skin and settles your waist, sending goosebumps out across your body. Your movements mirror one another, complement each other, the true definition of love. Your free hand gives him a squeeze, silently urging him to go faster. He feels so wonderful, and oh, you just want him. You want him so bad.

“Please,” you moan. “Please, Matt, please more.”

“Good girl,” he pants, forehead resting against yours. “My good girl. So good for me, wrapped around me like that. So good taking me like this. So good, angel.”

You run your fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots and slotting your lips against to his, your noses smushing together. His teeth nip at your lower lip as he pulls back slightly before capturing it between both of his. All you can do is pant and hold onto Matt’s back with your legs wrapped around him as he rolls his hips into you over and over, making the bed squeak and rock.

“Matthew,” you whine. “Matty . . . Feel so good.”

“Good girl,” he breathes against your neck, sending goosebumps throughout your body. “So good for me.”

You take in a deep breath and slowly let it out in moans by Matt’s ear. You don’t know if it’s because you’re still a little tired or the way the sheets are bunched slightly under your back, but everything feels so much better.

“So good,” he praises again. “You’re nice and sensitive, hm? My cock feels extra good in your pretty pussy, doesn’t it?”

“So good, Matt,” you whine. “Matt . . .”

“Mmm . . . You’re mine.”

You squeak, your hand squeezing his.

“Yeah?” he hums with one of the most beautiful smiles you’ve ever seen, his eyes sparkling.

“I love you.”

He only glows more. “I love you,” he breathes, leaning in and kissing you again.

The roll of his hips pick up in pace as you feel him hit deeper inside of you, and all you can do is hug Matt’s waist with your knees and keep him close until he cums deep inside of you. Your moans are harmonious, and just as he’s almost done riding out his high does yours crash over you in shattering shockwaves, squeezing you desperately and making his moans jump an octave. He stills and slows, kissing you all over to keep you grounded and center you in his arms.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he gravels in his alluring baritone.

“Good morning, my love,” you murmur, leaning up for one more kiss, long and slow. Your lips part from his and your head happily falls back down on the pillow.

You both groan softly as Matt pulls out. With one more kiss, Matt slides out of bed and puts on his boxers, shuffling out of the bathroom.

“Hey,” you whine, panting, irked your cuddles have been cut short. “Where are you going?”

“Mass,” he says, unphased, twisting to look at you from the doorway of your room. “Gotta freshen up before I leave.”

He gives you a small smile as you stare at him, your mouth hanging slightly while you watch him move out of the room. Yup, he’s a real handful.

———————————

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione @catnip987 @blackhawkfanatic

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @loves0phelia

499 notes · View notes

sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years

Note

I just got this idea and I trust your writing the most, I was wondering if you could write ,unless you already wrote this, where the reader steals König or ghost masks or anyone else and their reaction (nsfw or sfw is fine), thank you have a great day :))

König & Ghost's Reaction to their S/O Stealing their Mask

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Dominant Ghost, Dominant König, Territorial Military Men <3, Minor Spoilers of Ghost's Past, Mention of a Size Kink, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except 'You.

König

Since he's absolutely massive, the ends of his sniper veil literally reach the bottom of your ribcage.

So when König sees you wear it for the first time, he's absolutely F L O O R E D

We don't call him Size Kink König for no reason.

Goes absolutely feral when he sees you draped in his veil.

Can barely keep his hands off you.

"Maus," he husks, fingers twitching as he reaches for you slowly, cautiously, offering you the chance to go with him willingly.

"You don't know what you're doing to me."

Even without the veil, his eyes are dark, a blackness settling over them that, somewhere in your mind, your intuition, has you seeing red.

Regardless of how innocent your intent when acquiring the mask, none of that matters now.

All that does is the growing bulge in König's pants, the shortness of his breath, and his shadow settling over you as he advances on your path.

"You'll be needing that mask more than I will after I'm done with you."

And when you dare to ask "Why ?" now entrapped – eclipsed – by his frame, he just smiles, thin and sharp. Cruel.

He takes you in his arms, pulling you to him, your face almost crushed into his chest.

He laughs. A low rumble – the promise of a natural disaster.

His nose is to yours covered by the veil, a condescending gesture of his prowess and your submission. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

"Because everyone will get a free show to the fallout of an evening you’ve roped yourself into."

As if to prove his point, his hands are at your wrists before you even notice the pressure he's applying there, binding you, pulling you ever closer to him. And in that second, you know you're not leaving your little stunt – the night – unscathed.

Ghost

Hoo boy.

Okay, it's no secret to anyone who knows Ghost – really knows him – that he's suffered a lot of hardship throughout his life, hencewhy he is the way he is.

Which others may construe as cold, heartless – even soulless.

But that's only because Simon has lost so much.

So when he comes home to find you in one of his masks, smiling up at him (he can tell by the way your eyes crinkle), he's immediately whipped.

And I mean W H I P P E D.

To see the one person he can truly call his own wearing his gear is something he didn't know he needed until now.

Sure, he's seen you in his shirts, but this felt different. More intimate.

Your face was where his usually was, his spectral imprint practically morphed with the contours of your face.

Though it needn't be mentioned, he has a hard time... containing himself.

"Fuuuck me, Darlin'," he rasps, on you like a sickness as he sits on top of you, pinning you to the sofa by your waist.

"Y'look better in that than I do."

And you smile. Something intentional hidden within.

"Hmm... I doubt that." You can feel Simon's body heat rocketing beneath his clothes.

"You know I can't resist you when you wear it."

And that's all it takes to send him over the edge.

You hear his breath shake as he rolls into you ever so slightly, still restraining his whole weight to keep you intact. Something began to prod your abdomen.

"Oh, you're in for it now," he tells you. There is not a single hint of fallacy to his claim or his expression – one of barely stoic restraint.

"You won't be able to do much of anything by the time I'm through with you."

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

7K notes · View notes

cho-aaacho · 5 months

Text

I love you, truly. There's no doubt in my mind.

Masterlist

Characters : Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi, and Choso.

Gojo Satoru (Childhood Friend)

"Ah, isn't it cute?"

"Yeah."

You simply nodded as Gojo Satoru, your childhood friend, invited you on an aquarium date. It had been a while since you had spent time with him, cherishing these small moments together.

You couldn't recall exactly how long you had known Satoru. As far back as you could remember, you had been his best friend a long time ago, sharing the same blue sky, laughing, lovingly touching each other's hands, playfully giggling, and embracing both his joys, sadness, and happiness.

Some describe him as nonchalant, others as arrogant and annoying, yet to you, he is just like a petite star in the veil of the night sky. So bright yet teasingly distant, just beyond your grasp.

You're acutely aware that being his priority or even dancing in his thoughts is beyond reach. It's clear to you that his actions toward you are merely as friends.

Since high school, your heart has been sealed within him, keeping it concealed within the recesses of your mind.

...why does God plant the seeds of love in your heart only for them to remain unwatered and untouched by Gojo Satoru?

He chuckled upon noticing your prolonged gaze, a soft smile forming on his lips, causing warmth to spread to your cheeks.

"Do you remember when we were kids and you told me you wanted to be a teacher? Well, now I've stolen that dream, and I'm the one who became a teacher," he remarked. "And remember when you said you wanted to become a skilled baker? Well, I stole that dream too!"

You rolled your eyes, feeling a tingle of irritation. "Yeah, you've stolen every dream I have, and I ended up as a pathetic office worker. But... what exactly are you trying to say?"

His attention shifted to the aquarium, snapping a few photos before continuing. "Hmm... what if I were to say I stole your start? How does that sound?"

"What do you mean, Satoru-kun?"

"Yuuji... he mentioned something about this before we set off on our little date. He mentioned that you had planned on something. I don't think he meant to spill the tea because it was supposed to be a secret. But you know how bad Yuuji is at keeping secrets, so, well, he let it slip."

He paused, then added, "The thing you want to say this day is... Satoru-kun, as unbelievable as it may sound, I'm absolutely head over heels for you. I love you."

He giggled. "And since I stole your start, it means, like, you know what I mean, right?"

Now your mind is full of cherry blossoms...

A smile curled on his lips. As he gets closer, your shoulder touches his, making your heart beat so fast. How could he know this so fast? Did he know that you loved him for a very long time?

He shook his head and removed his sunglasses, perching them atop his silver hair. He stared at you with a soft smile. "I love you. Will you be mine?"

Geto Suguru (Boss/Employee Relationship)

"I wish I could see you not only today but every day. Please stay by my side," Geto expressed lovingly.

The memory of Geto's heartwarming words lingered in your mind. It's so endearing, isn't it? How could he leave you with this feeling? Did he even try to find out or ask you after this?

You still remember that time. It was a nice morning during spring, and you both indulged in green tea and sakuramochi on the terrace. Talking about sakura and kakigori. You found yourself just nodding and smiling, unable to find the words to respond.

Perhaps... you're too shy to face him, or it was the shock of his unexpected confession, considering your interaction with him is always in a formal atmosphere.

His words were consistently warm, polite, and kind towards everyone, but sometimes they left you confused about whether they were sincere or merely of his inherent kindness.

But you knew too well; it's just a part of Geto's natural charm. Despite occasional rudeness towards non-jujutsu-shi, everyone adored him for his personality, a trait you've always loved in your deepest heart.

This time, Geto invited you to the planetarium. He expressed being in a good mood to take you out, releasing his desire to spend quality time together, and affirming that you're the only one who fits with him on this date.

Despite the comments from everyone that the date was so childish and corny, you eagerly accepted the invitation. You loved this idea.

He said he has always loved stars and planets since he was a little kid, and this kind of date would refresh his sweet childhood memory.

That morning, when he came out of his room, it was the first time you saw Geto dressed casually instead of in his priestly attire. You couldn't help but notice how effortlessly appealing he looked, hinting at his charm, his pretty face, and his warm eyes. Everything about him is indeed beautiful.

"Shall we?" he said, extending his hand. You felt the warmth and gentleness of his palm as you squeezed it, eliciting a chuckle from him.

His large palm brought a sense of protection and security as it touched your skin, making you happy. It was the first time you felt such intensity from touching Geto Suguru, sparking curiosity about whether he had done this with anyone else.

"Are you happy?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Of course, Geto-san. How could I say no to an invitation from someone like you? I'm grateful for your company."

He nodded and smiled, then paused. "So... would you mind if we did this again in the future? Perhaps... for something more romantic and intimate?"

You blushed. "Um..."

"Oh, sorry if I confused you. What I meant is," he leaned in closer, gently touching your hair, then traced your jawline with a smile.

"I understand if you don't see it as romantic, but, well, I'd like to ask if you want to meet my friend next week. She's a talented designer and has crafted some beautiful wedding dresses."

"What do you mean?"

He chuckled. "I was thinking of having you try on her wedding dress. I know she has one that would look stunning on you. I envision you wearing it, sitting by my side, like a good couple, because... I want to marry you."

Nanami Kento (Secret Admirer)

"Oh, flowers?"

Haibara teased, peeking over from his desk with a mischievous grin. It's been a month now since you started receiving these surprises. Adorned at your desk whenever you come to the office in the morning.

At first, it was just a card, but then the next week came flowers, followed by your favorite cake, coffee, and even a keychain featuring your beloved mascot. Yet, each gift arrives without a sender's name, leaving you intrigued.

You attempt to inquire with your coworkers, hoping to find alternatives and answers from them. Unfortunately, they seem unaware of the sender's identity, giving a hint that they can't help you with this.

"Aren't you happy that you have a secret admirer? I can see it in your eyes," Nanami says, his gaze fixed on the computer screen as his fingers dance across the keyboard.

"I'm just wondering why they're hiding all these gifts and remaining anonymous. I'm not a teenager anymore; this kind of thing only makes me anxious, you know."

He pauses briefly, shifting his attention from the computer to you, who is engrossed in checking documents at your desk.

"I wouldn't consider the sender creepy or anything, because whoever it is seems to have a deep understanding of me. Like, when I mentioned to Haibara-kun that I had a migraine, the next day I received migraine medicine."

Paused, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Or when I mentioned I wanted to eat chocolate truffles, the next day they appeared on my desk. None of this feels coincidental, I must admit."

You stroke your chin thoughtfully. "I suppose... I appreciate it when someone shows they care about me, but it'd mean even more if I knew who they were. You see, I've always been alone since I was a child, so when someone shows me their kindness, I'll love them sincerely."

"So, what are you going to do with this?" Nanami's voice was tinged with anxiety.

"Maybe I'll bake a cake or something for them as my gratitude. My grandma gave me a recipe for baking a cake, and she called it Cake For Someone Special."

You force a smile and gaze at him. "But, I'll probably say goodbye to them if I have met them, and... thank you?

Nanami's voice changed, sounding anxious. "Eh... why?"

You chuckled. "The manager transferred me to another office. It's a new office for what I know, and they needed a new staff."

After hearing this, a burning sensation stirred within Nanami. He attempted to quell it by conjuring thoughts in his mind. But a question flooded his thoughts: How could this happen to me? Should I reveal the truth? That I—

"Nanami-san..." You began taking on a mysterious tone. "You know... everyone has unique handwriting. Do you believe that each person's handwriting is unique?"

He frowned but remained silent.

"I've been observing all my coworkers and noticed that each of them has a different handwriting. Well, some share similarities, but there are still noticeable differences."

You glanced at him. "And your handwriting, Nanami-san, is truly remarkable. It seems to reflect your personality—kind, caring, and observant."

You continued, "Some believe that handwriting can reveal a person's personality. I don't claim to be an expert, but I've noticed similarities between your handwriting and our little anonymous. So, are you—"

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his words trailing into the air.

"Yes, I know it sounds ridiculous and weird. I was the one who sent you gifts, cards, and everything. I know I may sound creepy or cheesy, but... I just want to share my feelings with you. Sorry if I'm not gentle enough with all of this, but please... don't leave me. I'll send the gifts once again, with my name on them, as long as you remain by my side."

It felt a bit odd hearing Nanami speak those words in front of you at the office. Yet, deep down, there was a sense of joy upon hearing them. Something inside you is blooming like a flower. Beautiful.

You chuckled softly and whispered, "Who said I'm going to leave you? I simply mentioned that our manager might transfer me, but I'm not necessarily agreeing with it. So how about we grab lunch after this? And we can talk about this later, right, Nanami-san?"

Oh... Lord, how smoothly Haibara's plan was working on Nanami. It was quite satisfying...

"And, again, Nanami-san. I'll never leave you."

Fushiguro Megumi (cuteness)

He adores flowers. Everything about them always makes his heart float like a delicate feather. He can't recall exactly when his love for flowers began, but it's likely influenced by his sister.

As one of the florists in town, Megumi loves to visit you to admire the flowers and buy some for his sister.

It's quite uncommon to find a man with such a sweet appreciation for flowers. He explained that it stemmed from his sister's passion, and he loves cherishing and feeling happiness from them.

For you, it's delightful to connect with someone who shares similar interests, and you hold this bond with Megumi.

Megumi has also taken the time to learn Hanakotoba, and he happily shares his knowledge with anyone, including you.

Whenever he talks about flowers, you can see the kindness in his eyes and the warmth of his compassionate smile, sometimes leaving you feeling a bit bashful.

One day, when he visits you, there's an air of gloom and sadness surrounding him.

Though you're unsure of what has transpired, you detect a hint of sorrow in his demeanor.

He may be reluctant to divulge the details, or perhaps he's attempting to shield his sadness, but it's clear that he needs someone to confide in or share his sorrow.

"Are you alright? You seem rather down," you remark, your gaze drifting to the orchids nearby.

"I... I'm not sure if I am. It's just... you know, a little problem."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the fleeting glimpse of upset in his eyes. Still wondering how to cheer him up? Perhaps you could try a bouquet for free or a comforting cup of hot chocolate for your dear friend.

It's so rare to see him this gloomy; usually, he's always seen with a warm smile around you, signaling his comfort in your presence.

But this time... feels different.

"I can help you, Megumi-kun."

He is gazing at you, falling into stillness while brushing back his hair. "I want to give my friend a gift, but I don't know her favorite."

Oh... her?

So... it's because of a woman? What kind of woman is changing Megumi's mood all of a sudden?

There's nothing wrong with that, but why does it feel uneasy to you?

You halt your thoughts and shake your head, knowing it's best not to jump to conclusions.

You tease him and giggle to lighten the mood. "Oh, who is she? Your new girlfriend?"

A hint of blush renders his cheeks, and despite Megumi trying to hide his shyness, you can still see it. Oh... so cute. Cute.

"N-no, it's not quite like that. She's a good friend, someone truly special. She's always there for me, supporting me, showing me love, and I want to express my gratitude somehow."

Deep down... you're aware that his feelings for this woman go beyond friendship. It's evident in Megumi's eyes and the way he proudly talks about her.

"I see..."

Well, he may be in love.

"How about you give her gerberas?"

He frowned. "Why?"

"Well, red gerberas represent unconscious love or being fully immersed in love. It looks like your feelings for her are more than just friendship. But I'm sorry, Megumi-kun. I don't have gerberas."

He smiled softly and nodded. You felt content seeing Megumi's mood shift to warmth, gentleness, and softness, especially when you noticed the sparkle in his eyes when you mentioned gerberas.

"Why do I forget about that one? Thank you for reminding me."

The last thing you remember is that Megumi ran through the entrance, leaving you standing alone in the shop. A sigh escaped from your lips, and a strange emptiness enveloped you, wrapping you alone in the corner.

As you returned home from work, the moments of the day almost faded from your mind until you spotted Megumi standing in front of your apartment.

You have no idea how long he's been there. But it was a beautiful afternoon when the sun went down and was replaced by hues of twilight. All you can see is him grabbing something that looks like a bouquet from afar, but you aren't sure.

"Megumi-kun, what are you doing here?"

Now, as you gazed at him, he stood there, tenderly holding a bouquet in his hand.

"There's something I need to discuss about our relationship, something I need to confirm with you. It might seem trivial, but... I feel it's important to say," he began, his smile warm and genuine.

As he handed you the bouquet, you noticed a bouquet of gerberas nestled within, elegantly wrapped alongside a beautiful envelope. It's simply beautiful, just like him, Fushiguro Megumi. It was perhaps the most exquisite bouquet you'd ever laid eyes on.

Caught between reality and a daydream, you found yourself stuck by Megumi's smile. How could all of this be happening to you? Was it truly meant for you—the flower, the letter, his confession, everything?

"You're simply beautiful, and I love you," he whispered softly. "I want you to be with me."

Choso (First Kiss)

"The rain doesn't seem to be letting up. How are we going to get home?"

"I'm not sure, but stuck in the classroom isn't a good idea. I should hurry home, or my brothers will worry about me."

"Heh, you're such a good big brother."

Rain falling to the ground creates a calming atmosphere. The aroma of moist soil is in your nose. It always leaves a pleasant, romantic impression.

A peculiar feeling began to invade your mind, pleading for assistance in escaping these situations. It was dark and cold, and you hate them. All you could sense were raindrops, Choso's humming, and the ticking of the clock. It leaves a blue atmosphere for you, to be honest.

His eyes gazed at you with a smile on his lips. "Yeah, maybe we could use an umbrella, but I think you'd hate it if we used that ugly one."

You joking. "An umbrella? Well, maybe it would be nice if we used it. You know, it sounds... romantic."

A warm feeling began to invade your system as you said that. You weren't sure if he could notice or sense the tease, but your rosy cheeks gave it away.

"Oh, you want to try it?"

A smile waltzed across Choso's lips. He studied your face before nodding. His gaze, as warm as the sun, locked onto yours, desperately vying for your attention.

He sidled closer. "You know, just trying... it won't hurt you."

He shared his laughter with you, a symphony of joy that danced through the air.

He reached for his umbrella in his bag. "I'm not lying," he said. "I always brought an umbrella from home; so shall we?"

Your gaze swept over him, scanning what the umbrella looked like. Well, it doesn't seem bad, like he said earlier, despite how tiny it was. It could fit both of you. Choso is a tall man, but you're sure that the umbrella will fit both of you. And you think it will be good if you're close to him.

"What do you think?" His words hung in the air like a playful challenge. "Would you like to try it?"

You nodded in agreement and, without thinking. Now that your attention is drawn to the outside, the raindrop is still falling but not as heavy as before.

You can't seem to remember everything clearly; it all happened so fast. From what you recall, you're both already outside with Choso under the same umbrella. The atmosphere is cold and freezing. It's been a long time since you've shared an umbrella with someone, let alone been this close.

You try to calm yourself by closing your eyes, but in reality, you are unable to move an inch of your very fingers. It's so weird, to be honest.

"Are you okay?" Choso's voice brought you back to reality. You gazed at him and noticed that your face and his were close, almost touching his nose.

...at this rate, he'll be...

"N-no, I'm okay..."

"Come closer," he whispered. "I don't want you to get wet by the rain, or you'll be sick." He continued. "You don't want me to be closer?"

"No, it's not, Choso-kun. I just..."

He leaned in, closing the gap between you and him. Making your face even blushier than before. "You know Nobara says when you're this close with someone, you should kiss them. Do you want to try it too? Well, this is my first time kissing someone; I just want to try."

"Oh... Choso—"

But before you could respond to him, his lips had already met yours, sealing you with a warm and gentle kiss, leaving you breathless, vulnerable, and willing to surrender.

For someone who claims it was his first time, his kiss was actually good—not rushed or forced, just a tender and soft kiss from someone you love dearly.

He whispered between the kisses. "Promise me you'll stay like this..."

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #choso x reader #choso x you #choso jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen

431 notes · View notes

gimmethatagustd · 1 year

Text

blood on the sheets | kth

Despite what some people may think, your roommate isn't a monster. You know Taehyung; he'd never hurt anyone.

↳ pairing: vampire!taehyung x human!(f)reader

↳ wc/date: 4.7k | October 2023

↳ warnings: blood, biting, blood drinking, yandere, (technically temporary) character death, homicidal tendencies, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus (face sitting), period sex, unprotected vaginal sex, blood as lube, emotional manipulation, possessiveness, yandere, dubcon blood drinking, dubcon sex, vampire venom is intoxicating, mc and tae complain about men who are rude toward menstruating people and ik that some men do menstruate so pls know that they are referring to cis men in this context

↳ notes: this is for @taehyungcentral for halloween 🦇 i hope it's everything you wanted bby. you nasty whore

↳ more notes: this is very unedited i'm sorry jhskds i also REALLY wanted to keep it at a normal drabble length and i obviously failed. so i'll try to do better with the rest of the halloween drabbles lmfao rip

↳ masterlist / taglist

↳ what was jai listening to? this vampire kpop playlist hali showed me

Halloween 2023 Masterlist

“Doesn’t he, y’know, creep you out?”

Robin takes a sip of her cocktail with lips so accustomed to being pursued in snootiness that little wrinkles have formed around the edges of her mouth despite her young age. It’s a shame, but the look is fitting. Sometimes, a person’s ugliness on the inside does reflect on the outside.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask with thinly-veiled irritation.

You haven’t known Robin for a long time, though you suppose it wouldn’t have mattered if you knew her for a day or an entire year. She’s the type of person you could spend hours talking to and walk away knowing nothing about her. You’re simply coworkers, and that’s enough for you.

Robin shrugs and tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder when she turns to blatantly stare across the room. The bar isn’t big, just large enough for a few tables and booths lining the walls and a small dancefloor in the middle of the room. It’s intimate, so your coworkers picked it for the office’s monthly night out. Alcohol, catchy pop music, and hipster bars are perfect ingredients for morale-boosting activities, but Robin doesn’t know how to not be nasty.

You follow her gaze, and a small smile lifts the corners of your mouth despite her rude question when you see who she’s looking at.

The cup in Taehyung’s hand is colored glass. In the dim lights, the cup appears to be a dark forest green that pairs prettily with his fire-engine red hair and the contacts that turn his dark eyes a mossy color. You helped him pick out the contacts while the two of you got ready for the work outing. The green are just as alluring as the other colored contacts he owns, but they’re less intimidating than his favorite gray ones.

The colored cups are the bar’s effort to hide the deep crimson liquid inside. Supposedly, it’s for the comfort of all their patrons, but everyone knows what passes through Taehyung’s plush lips when he brings the cup to his mouth.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows. The v-cut of his shirt exposes his elegant neck and collarbones, not that you’re looking or anything.

“He eats people, for Christ’s sake. How could you live with something like that?”

Your vodka-cranberry drink is down to the ice, and your patience for Robin has melted with it.

“Fuck you,” you snap. “Taehyung doesn’t eat people. And he’s not a thing; he’s a person.”

It’s so unlike you to be this aggressive, but something mean twists inside your stomach whenever you’re forced to interact with people like Robin, who use their prejudice to infect everyone around them. Vampires have been integrated into human society for decades with very few incidents, yet there are still humans like Robin who hold onto the horror stories of the past.

Besides, Robin doesn’t even know Taehyung. You’ve brought him around your coworkers before as a plus-one to work events, but Robin doesn’t actually know him. She doesn’t know how kind he is, how he looks after you when even your friends rarely do, how he goes out of his way to prove that just because he’s a vampire doesn’t mean he’s a monster.

The pounding of your heart is enough evidence that you aren’t used to this hostile behavior. You nearly knock over your chair when you stand, and your hands are too shaky to pick up your drink from where it sits on the table before you.

Robin glares at you with eyes that pierce through your tough facade. Her cherry-red lips part to expose teeth more dangerous-looking than a vampire’s fangs, but whatever she has to say dies on her tongue.

“Hey, love.” Taehyung’s fingers skirt your lower back, and the cold of his fingertips bleeds through your thin shirt. “You okay?”

“Yup!” You give Taehyung a slight smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I was just telling Robin that I’m going home. Is that alright?”

Taehyung hums in understanding, his fingers now pressing against your hip bone. The pressure is light, but it’s enough to force your body to turn slightly to face him rather than the table where Robin still sits.

You naturally gravitate toward him regardless. When you first became friends and shortly before you decided to live together, you’d playfully accused Taehyung of using his vampiric charms on you.

“I don’t need magic to make you fall in love with me, baby,” Taehyung had replied with a lopsided grin, no fangs in sight.

Admittedly, you spent far too many of the following nights replaying that comment in your head.

“Of course,” Taehyung slips his index finger through one of your belt loops and tugs on it absentmindedly, “I’ll leave with you; I’ve lost interest in listening to Seokjin’s passionate rambling. There’s only so much video game lore I can handle.”

Robin mutters something snarky under her breath that you can’t hear, but your heart hurts because you know Taehyung can. You’re sure it’s his superhuman hearing that set him off to rescue you from Robin’s bitchy attitude, considering how your heart is beating at a worrying pace. This situation is yet another example of how kind Taehyung is.

Robin doesn’t know shit.

Going home is a good call for more than just escaping Robin’s bitchy behavior. From the time it takes Taehyung to drive home, your lower stomach begins to hurt with such extreme stabbing pain that you can barely walk upright once you arrive. Taehyung has to wrap his arm around your shoulders and slowly guide you up the elevators and down the hall to your apartment's front door. Once he enters the passcode, he helps you inside and leads you into the kitchen.

“You weren’t supposed to start for another week,” Taehyung comments off-handedly as he fetches you a glass of water. He speaks with the casualness of discussing the weather or your weekend plans.

It makes your cheeks warm, and you stare at the water in your glass once he hands it to you. “How do you know that?”

“I pay attention to you, love,” Taehyung murmurs. You should think it’s weird when he inhales deeply through his nose, but you only feel warm as goosebumps scatter across your skin. “I can also… smell it.”

With a gentle grip on your waist, Taehyung draws you closer to where he leans against the kitchen counter. Once you’re standing directly before him, he slips his hand beneath your shirt to press his cold palm against your lower stomach. The gut-wrenching pain is still there, but in the mix of the pain, butterflies are swirling about, and the cool of his skin feels good against your too-hot body.

Some of your friends have commented on how you act with Taehyung - or, more so, how Taehyung acts with you. He's touchy, and personal boundaries mean very little. For some, it would be off-putting how Taehyung initiates touch without asking, but you find it comforting. You don't mind; if anything, you're endeared by it. It means he's comfortable with you and knows you trust him.

Trust, you're quickly learning, is important for vampires in a world that distrusts them.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure that’s really gross.”

“Gross?” Taehyung rubs his thumb along the sensitive skin of your stomach and watches you intently with his mossy green eyes. It should be unnerving, but you’re too captivated by Taehyung to think anything of it.

“All my ex-boyfriends never even wanted to talk about periods, let alone…” You’re too shy to finish your sentence; repeating what Taehyung said seems too embarrassing. It’s embarrassing enough that you’re comparing your roommate to your ex-boyfriends.

You let out a quiet sigh when Taehyung removes his hand from beneath your shirt. He takes your empty glass from your hands and places it on the kitchen counter. Letting Taehyung take care of you feels nice, especially when your period cramps make breathing difficult.

“Humans are strange,” Taehyung murmurs as he gently turns you around by your shoulders to guide you to your bedroom. “There is nothing dirty or disgusting about blood. It is natural. A life source, in more ways than one.”

After changing into a new pair of underwear and comfy pajamas, you slip into your bed and patiently wait for Taehyung to finish getting ready for bed.

It isn’t unusual for you to spend time together at night, especially since you don’t have much time that overlaps due to Taehyung being nocturnal. He doesn’t sleep all day, but getting all covered up is a hassle just to brave the sunlight, so Taehyung prefers to spend his days inside.

You get cuddled in your blankets with a heating pad pressed to your lower stomach. At the same time, Taehyung sets up his laptop on your bed before you, pulling up your favorite reality TV show because he knows you’re too sensitive to handle anything emotional.

Taehyung is dressed in a loose white t-shirt and form-fitting grey sweatpants. It’s a deadly combination, and you hate that he can hear your heart flutter when he climbs into bed with you. You’re close enough that your shoulders press together, and Taehyung’s cool temperature seeps into your body, contrasting nicely with the heating pad resting on your stomach.

Sometimes, you wonder if Taehyung has figured out that he’s the reason you're a jittery mess. You wonder if he knows that your heart races around him, not because you’re afraid of him but because you’ve considered what it would feel like to let him sink his fangs into your flesh.

He probably has no idea, you think as you appraise him out of the corner of your eye. He's charming and naturally flirty. He probably thinks you're just matching his energy.

You're terrible at flirting anyway.

Clearing your throat, you adjust the blankets and try to focus on the TV show. However, it’s difficult to concentrate with Taehyung snuggled against your side. He’s being more affectionate than usual, likely because you get more sensitive when you’re on your period. You can’t complain. It feels nice to have his strong arm curled around your waist and his large hand resting against your hip.

“Comfortable?” Taehyung turns his head to the side to speak against the curve of your ear. His cool breath against your skin makes you shiver.

“Mhm,” you hum. “Are you?”

“I’m with you, aren’t I?”

“Shut up,” you hiss and give Taehyung a sharp slap to the leg that you know won’t hurt him.

You slide further into the blankets to rest your head on Taehyung’s shoulder. There’s no reason for you to be whispering, but you do. Perhaps it’s the atmosphere, your bedroom dark except for a single bedside lamp casting a shallow yellow glow, and Taehyung’s laptop lighting up your bed sheets a pale blue.

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you passes while the show plays through, Taehyung begins thrumming his fingers against your hip.

“Were your exes truly mean to you about something so natural?”

“What?” You twist your torso slightly to look up at him. “Like, not wanting to talk about periods and stuff?”

Taehyung nods. He’s no longer wearing his contacts, so you can see the lamp’s yellow light reflect in his deep red eyes, making them burn orange. Having known Taehyung for a year now, you’ve learned that the color of his eyes changes pretty regularly. You aren’t sure what the colors mean, though you’re pretty sure they have more to do with his mood than his hunger levels – contrary to what vampire films and novels might lead you to believe.

“Well, yeah. Guys think periods are gross. A lot of people do, honestly. Because of blood, and also, y’know, misogyny and all that shit.” You shrug, having come to terms with these facts long ago. “Like, one time I told my ex about this article I read that said orgasms can temporarily relieve cramps, and he went on this whole rant about how period sex is disgusting. It made me feel like I was disgusting, honestly. But whatever.”

Throughout your explanation, Taehyung’s face slowly contorts until he looks legitimately upset. It startles you because why should he care about any of this?

Sweet Taehyung is too empathetic for his own good, you think.

“Human men are pathetic,” Taehyung finally says with a snort. “Period sex sounds fun.”

You struggle to swallow with how dry your mouth and throat have become. Why did you bring up sex while you sit halfway leaned against Taehyung’s chest in your bed, with the lights off, quite literally Netflix and chilling on a Friday night?

“W-well,” you start to stutter but quickly try to pull yourself together, “I wouldn’t know.”

Taehyung hums and then falls silent again, so you assume the topic is dropped. That is until a few more minutes pass with Taehyung’s fingers playing with the hem of your t-shirt, and he eventually leans toward your ear again.

“Would you like to find out?”

This time, you turn around to face Taehyung. He keeps his head bent, which positions his face to be level with yours. You can smell the woody notes of his cologne that make you salivate.

“What?” you squeak, but you hear him more clearly than you hear your own thoughts.

“You still have cramps, don’t you?” You nod. “I could help you, love. You need not suffer.”

Blood rushes to your ears, causing your heartbeat to throb inside your brain. The pounding has a ripple effect, creating beating waves that roll throughout your entire body. It's as though you've become a giant heart trembling and pulsing from the prospect of having sex with the man you've desired in secret for far too long.

Likely noticing your body falling into distress, Taehyung cups the side of your face with his free hand. Using his hold on you, he tilts your head slightly. His eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t think it’s physically possible for you to look away.

“Are you afraid of me?”

"No," you respond without hesitation. You aren't.

Your response pleases Taehyung, and you're reminded of the importance of trust. When he smiles, you think his canines look slightly pointier than usual.

"You know," Taehyung begins slowly, his gaze dropping from your eyes to your slightly parted lips. "Humans drown themselves in shame. I have never understood it. What is so reprehensible about pleasure, hm? Is it so wrong to seek it?"

"I don't know," you admit through a breathy exhale when Taehyung brushes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip.

"Your ex made you feel ashamed, didn't he?"

You nod, rendered speechless from how Taehyung trails his fingers along your jaw and neck. Gently, he presses his index and middle fingers against the soft spot of your throat where your heart panics beneath your skin.

Taehyung wets his lips.

"I could make you feel good."

All it takes is a light tap of his fingers against your hip, and you're leaning into Taehyung's chest. His large hand slides from the side of your neck to the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. It's deep and demanding, sending your head spinning as you struggle to keep up with Taehyung's soft lips.

You moan when the tip of his tongue flicks against your mouth, coaxing you open for him to taste. You fall apart for him willingly, ready to bear your soul if he so much as whispers the request against your lips.

Taehyung could kiss you forever; he doesn't need to breathe. You have to force yourself to pull back to gasp for air when you begin to feel lightheaded, and you struggle to register that you've somehow ended up in Taehyung's lap. You straddle his firm thighs with your knees on either side of his hips and your fingers digging into his broad shoulders. It's embarrassing, the feeling of suddenly having no control over yourself, but Taehyung squeezes your hips when you try to get up.

"Will you let me?" His eyes are a deep red, nearly black, as he searches your face for your answer when you don't immediately respond.

Your entire body throbs with anticipation. Sleeping with Taehyung is everything you've forced yourself not to imagine - out of shame because what is more shameful than thirsting over your roommate who has no interest in you?

Except he does. You can feel his hard cock underneath you, and when you subtly scoot your ass against it, his fingers dig deeper into your hips.

"Please," you whisper. The word barely leaves your lips when you're suddenly tossed onto your back.

Taehyung's nimble fingers slip beneath your t-shirt and push it up, murmuring, "Lift your arms, love," and discarding it onto the floor in one sweep. Leaning forward, Taehyung kisses each of your now-exposed nipples, flicking his cool tongue over them until they're hard and wet.

You moan and instinctually arch your back, pushing your chest against his open mouth.

"Can't wait to taste you," Taehyung groans into your skin as he slips his hands into the elastic waistband of your pajama shorts. The fabric easily slides down your legs. Taehyung flings them onto the floor, where they melt into a pool of blood-red silk. "You smell delicious. Always do."

Understanding Taehyung's praises is difficult when he lights up your nerves with every kiss and harsh suck of your skin into his mouth. You don't feel anything sharp for now, but you want to. Again, it's shame that squanders the urge to admit your desires to Taehyung. All you can do is tangle your fingers in his pretty red hair and stare into his eyes as he sucks wet kisses down your stomach.

Your thighs are already slightly wet with your arousal and, unfortunately, blood. It's hot and sticky. You try to close your legs, but Taehyung keeps them propped open. To your horror, you watch him drag his hands up your inner thighs, smearing the little traces of arousal and blood that have rubbed off onto your skin. It leaves light pink streaks on his palms.

With dark eyes, Taehyung holds your gaze as he brings one hand to his mouth and licks up the entire length of his palm.

"Fuck," he lets out a shuddery moan, eyes fluttering closed. "Goddamn, love."

It shouldn't be hot, the feral look in Taehyung's eyes when he opens them again. It shouldn't be hot, the way his fangs naturally drop. He snaps his mouth shut, and you watch his throat bob as he swallows a few times. His fangs are gone the next time he opens his mouth.

"Sit on my face."

You nearly choke. "Excuse me?"

Reaching behind his head, Taehyung pulls his t-shirt off with one hand. Smooth, unblemished skin glows honey gold in the dim lighting. Possessed, you can't stop yourself from reaching out to run your hands down his chest. His abs tense and contract when you caress them. By the time you reach the waistband of his sweatpants, you've lost the little bit of courage you had.

"I want you to sit on my face." Taehyung's voice is thick and gravelly. There's a dangerous edge to it that you can't quite name.

"O-okay," you whimper.

A thrill pulses through your body when you remember what Taehyung is.

He's a person, not a monster. But he's dangerous all the same.

Taehyung lies on his back and holds his arms out, coaxing you forward. His large hands squeeze your thighs, just below your ass, to haul you further up until you're hovering right over his face.

"Are you su-"

"It is impossible for you to understand how painful it has been to wait for this moment." Taehyung holds eye contact with you as he slides his hands up to squeeze your ass cheeks and pull your pussy down onto his mouth.

"Oh my god," you moan, scrambling to grab the bedframe to steady yourself.

Taehyung licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, lapping up the mouthwatering mixture of arousal and blood gushing from you with every pulse of your pussy. Using the tip of his tongue, he swirls your clit, flicking it repeatedly until he gets tired of that and sucks it into his mouth instead.

Your thighs quiver, and chants of Taehyung's name flow from your lips like honey as he tongues your entrance. His mouth is relentless, nipping, licking, and sucking your clit until you're trembling so severely that Taehyung has to prop his arms up to hold most of your weight. It only gets worse when he presses his tongue inside your pussy, fucking into you as he devours your sweet blood and juices with the moans of a starved man.

"T-Taehyung," you gasp, reaching down to dig your fingers into his hair. Your nails scrape against his scalp, and the rumble of his moans into your pussy is to die for. "I'm gonna come, oh my god, oh, pl-, ah, please d-don't-"

Your eyes, which had fallen shut as you focused on the feeling of Taehyung's mouth on your pussy, fly open when something sharp presses into the inside of your thigh. You look down to see Taehyung's fangs buried into your flesh, just at the crease of your inner thigh, where the skin is soft and supple. The pain quickly morphs into mind-numbing pleasure, so white hot that it feels like your brain is melting out of your ears when you finally come.

You slump forward with your face pressed against the wall and your hands weakly gripping the bed frame as your body convulses in Taehyung's hold.

"Tae, Tae, Taehyung, oh god." It hurts how deeply he bites into you, but the longer he clamps on, the more intoxicated you become by the venom all vampires carry in their bite.

It's distracting, the way you feel like you're floating. Your eyes flutter as you feel Taehyung pull you onto the bed on your back. He hovers over you, the bloodied face of a fallen angel closing in on you.

"I'm your first," Taehyung states the question, already knows the answer, but you nod your head to confirm. Taehyung is the first vampire to bite you. It's why the effects are so intense; your body has no built-up immunity.

He's smug as he leans forward to kiss you, shoving his tongue into your mouth to force you to taste yourself on him. It doesn't taste good, but you aren't thinking when you stick your tongue out to lick the blood and cum off his lips. You lick and suck his lips, cleaning them off just to let him dirty you up.

"Fuck, love, you're so fucking sexy," Taehyung growls once you release his bottom lip from between your teeth. "Mine. All mine. You're mine."

You give him a sleepy smile and loop your arms around his neck. "Yours."

Taehyung nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and runs his tongue along the crease, swiping back and forth between wet kisses.

"Gonna fuck you now, baby." He rakes his fangs down your neck, drawing blood in thin parallel lines. "Mark you, ruin you. Do you want that? Want me to make you feel good?"

Blood trickles down both sides of your neck to pool in your collarbones. Eventually, the pools overflow, sending rivers of red cascading down your chest, past your hardened nipples, and the hickeys Taehyung sucked into the skin of your abdomen. Between your legs, a giant black bruise spreads in your inner thigh, and blood trickles from the multiple puncture wounds there.

“Please, fuck me, please,” you beg, eyes half-closed. Your head lolls to the side to watch Taehyung remove his sweatpants. Red splotches cover the grey fabric like a homemade tie-dye.

“Look at you,” Taehyung’s voice is saccharine. He kneels in front of you on the bed and squeezes the thigh he bit into. With a yelp, your entire body jerks from the pain, though the haze of Taehyung’s venom makes the discomfort temporary. “So pretty.”

Your blood drips from Taehyung’s fingers and follows the lines in his palms down to curve around his wrist. Something stirs inside your stomach as Taehyung smears your blood all over his cock, using it as a lubricant to jerk himself off. His skin turns slick and shiny red.

With his free hand, he cups the back of your knee to hike your leg up, adjusting you into the perfect position for him to swirl the head of his cock in the blood on your thigh. Gathering more on the tip, Taehyung gives himself one last squeeze before positioning himself between your legs.

He isn’t gentle when he enters you, sinking his cock into you in one bloody thrust. How his hip presses into the crease of your thigh hurts, applying pressure to your wounds that still bleed, but the pleasure of Taehyung’s thick cock pounding into you is enough to block out the pain. You’re so high, your soul barely attached to your body as Taehyung fucks you, each stroke fast and deep. His grip on you is supernaturally rough. Bruises immediately bloom across your skin, and his blunt nails dig crescent cuts into your skin.

More blood.

“Feel good, love?” Taehyung’s voice is on edge. He practically growls, and his words are slightly slurred from his fangs dropping down once again. This time, he doesn’t try to retract them. When he kisses you, you feel them press against your lips like cold daggers. One slices a small cut in the corner of your mouth, and blood collects in the creases of your lips until Taehyung sucks it all up.

“Can’t, fuck, get enough.” Taehyung punctuates his sentiments with a snap of his hips. Pleasure rolls off of you in waves, dragging your mind deeper and deeper into a blank void. Taehyung is dizzying, so pretty with his bloody mouth and wild eyes.

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his lips press against your neck, leaving kisses far gentler than the way he fucks you. The coil building in your stomach is so hot and tight that you don’t even feel the pain of Taehyung biting your neck. You immediately come, your orgasm ripping through your body as Taehyung’s fangs rip through your flesh.

Taehyung moans through his teeth as he comes inside of you, filling you up at the same time he empties you.

“Taehyung,” you try to whisper, but your mouth hardly moves.

He’s drinking too much.

The realization hits you too late. There are bite marks all along your neck, the inside of your thighs, your tits, your wrists. Taehyung has his lips latched onto one of your bloody nipples, lapping up your skin. Your bed is flooded in red, soaked through the sheets and into the mattress.

“You’re mine, love.” Taehyung runs a bloody hand down your face, leaving streaks along your temple. “Fuck those bitches you work with. Those pieces of shit who think you couldn’t possibly love someone like me. They’re wrong, baby—all this shame. Humans drown in it, but not us. We won’t drown.”

Red tears stream down Taehyung’s high cheekbones. You want to comfort him but realize in a panic that you can’t move. With wide eyes, you stare up at Taehyung in a silent plea.

“Shhh, it’s okay, love. You have to let go. Let go for me, and then I’ll keep you safe. Forever, I’ll keep you safe.” Taehyung brings his wrist to his mouth. There’s a sickening crunch, and thick, black blood slides down Taehyung’s forearm like tar.

His elegant fingers squeeze your jaw, forcing you to keep your mouth open as he presses his bleeding wrist to your lips.

“Mine,” Taehyung repeats as he smears his black blood on your lips and lets it leak onto your tongue. “And I will be yours, just like you wanted. No one else's.”

Leaning down, Taehyung digs his fangs into your throat one final time and drinks until your last breath dies in your lungs.

Halloween 2023 Masterlist

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#bts x reader #taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #bts angst #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #halloween 2023 #blood on the sheets

849 notes · View notes

garoujo · 2 years

Text

TRY TO KEEP QUIET — GENSHIN IMPACT

feat : heizou, diluc, al-haitham, cyno + kazuha

♱ warnings — f!reader, exhibitionism, fingering, darknight hero diluc, teasing.

♱ note — this post is separate from kinktober cause i couldn’t help myself so consider this one a freebie <3

・✶ ｡ﾟSHIKANOIN HEIZOU

you couldn’t help the desire that seemed to consume you whenever you visited heizou at the police station. he knew exactly what he was doing as he flirted with you so shamelessly, luring you into one of the interrogation offices under the veil of ‘having something to discuss with his s/o’

“well how about if anyone asks.. we consider this, a new.. interrogation technique.” heizou whispers into your ear from where his body is curling over yours, his hips pressed flush against your own before he’s drawing back out of you with a languid roll of his hips. “what if we get caught? wont you g-get in trouble.” you’re trying so desperately to keep quiet, but you know he’s deliberately trying to pull the pretty sounds out of you that he loves so much when he sinks his cock back into your pussy — grinding his pelvis against your clit with a stifled moan.

“hm, there’s no need to worry.. if you’re able to keep quiet, that is.” he’s teasing you, you can tell by the low drawl that heizou’s voice takes and the way his lips deliberately ghost along the shell of your ear, followed by another deep kiss of his cock along the swollen spots inside of you as he keeps you pinned to the interrogation table. “oh, and i’ll make sure i’m the only one to see you like this.. call me greedy, i guess.” the pace he sets is anything but discreet, every wet connection of his hips into yours feeling like it echos around the small, darkened room.

“man alive, hnnn.. it seems you’re getting tighter.” heizou grunts, almost shamelessly before it breaks off into something whispery that makes your pussy squeeze around him. “you’re g-going to get us caught.” you’re barely able to hold yourself together but you still manage to tug playfully at his hair, but it seems to only make the detective above you feel even better as his cock throbs — lips grazing along the sensitive spots along your neck as he humps his cock into your pussy. “well now, i never said i’d be able to hold myself back, did i? it’s to be expected when you feel this good after all.”

・✶ ｡ﾟDILUC RAGNVINDR

you couldn’t help but feel lonely some nights, allowing yourself to take a stroll around mondstat, you felt safe there knowing it was being dutifully watched over. but some nights you’re lucky enough to run into the ‘darknight hero’ as he was known, and you think he deserves a reward after all the work he’s doing for your home town.

“do you have any idea what you do to me?” diluc grunts from where he’s pressing into you, his muscled body keeping you caged against the darkened alley wall behind angel’s share while he ruthlessly slams his cock into your stretched cunt, one of your thighs messily pulled over his hips while the other desperately tries to keep you upright with how good he’s fucking you. “how about you show me, darknight hero?” he’s powerless, weak, you were exquisite from where you’re blinking up at him — so beautiful on the end of his cock and he’s never felt so bested by anyone in his life like he does you.

“i f-fear i won’t be able to hold myself back.” “then don’t.” your reply is quick, making diluc grunt with the next intoxicating squeeze of your cunt around him — like you’re trying to convince him to let his desire for you consume him, even just for a night. his grip suddenly turns bruising as he keeps you pressed against him—your body jolting with each crushing thrust, driven by the weight of his trained body and you mewl, shamelessly when he glides along the sweet spots inside you that have you trembling, pretty tears gathering at your lashes.“shhh.. i don’t want us to be interrupted, sweetheart. ughhh.. i’m not done with you.”

the blunt head of diluc’s cock is kissing every part of you and you feel it thicken, throb inside you’re already clenching walls despite his words. you toss your head back against the wall, jolting when he suddenly slides a hand between your two bodies—the other squeezing your thigh to keep you upright as he messily rubs at your clit. “archons.. you are, beautiful.” the sensitive bud is already swollen and puffy from the grind of his pelvis, and you feel him press his lips to yours in the hopes of swallowing the pretty sounds you’re making for him. “is the darknight hero really a softie?” “only for you, it seems.”

・✶ ｡ﾟAL-HAITHAM

there was something alluring about al-haitham, the looks he’d send you as he made his way around the akademiya. you’d expect him to be a little more reserved as the scribe, so lead by example as a scholar but he’s just as daring as he is handsome, and he could never resist the sight of your pretty pussy spread around his cock.

“haitham.. you’re going to get us caught!” you gasp from where al-haitham is grinding his cock into your cunt, one of his biceps hooked around your hips as he keeps you pressed to the bookcase in a secluded corner of the akademiya. “oh, is that right? but i’m not the one being so loud, am i?” he grunts as his sharp gaze cuts through you — blown and heavy lidded followed by a deliberately, sharp push of his cock inside of you that feels like it reaches even deeper than it already was. you know despite his words, he wants you to be louder — to let him hear the pretty sounds he can dig up out of you.

“it’s not my fault you looked so irresistible, sweetheart. weren’t you the one who told me you couldn’t wait until we got home, or was that a lie?” al-haitham’s voice is wound so tight as he grits his teeth, the rut of his hips only growing heavier with the need that he feels lick at his spine — every thrust jostling the book case behind you as you try to grab onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady. “n-no, i needed you—fuck.” your voice comes out needier than you expected and you hear him chuckle in response, still finding the energy to tease you despite the spark of his orgasm in his abdomen.

“oh yeah? then let me feel you cum.. that’s what you wanted after all, right?” it’s almost a challenge, but his words are followed by a particularly sharp thrust of his cock before one of his hands smoothes between your thighs. you feel his fingers take their place between your folds, rubbing your puffy clit in sticky circles until he can feel you twitch around him, squeezing so tight it’s like you’re trying to milk him, your words reducing you to mumbled moans of his name and heavy breathes as his cock pushes against your sweet spots perfectly. “oh? don’t hold back on me now, sweetheart.”

・✶ ｡ﾟCYNO

you always thought it was charming how easily you could wind up cyno, when the adrenaline after a fight is still coursing through his veins and the first featherlight touch of your fingers along his bare chest has him heavy lidded. his cock twitching behind his uniform as he clears his throat to stifle a groan. “we should get going..” “not yet”

“hm, was this your plan to get me to rest?” cyno asks from where he’s sat beneath you, resting against one of the larger rocks in the desert as you grind yourself down on his cock — letting it kiss along your sweet spots as you his body rocks seamlessly with yours. he’s trying his best to remain composed but it’s almost melting entirely with the next tight, needy twitch of your walls around him, making him choke on a sharp groan as his hips meet each of your movements with eager humps of his own. “maybe, but i think you needed this just as much as i did.”

“you know i would.. n-never decline your offer.” it was so intoxicating watching the former general mahamatra crumble beneath you, his toes curling in the sand as he presses himself deeper against the brick behind him — trying to bite down on his lower lip as to not alert any enemies who could be lurking near by. “you sure you’re not just as needy as i am?” you gasp as you bounce yourself along his cock, pushing your chest closer against cyno’s exposed one as you feel his nails dig crescent moons into your skin — so overwhelmed by the pleasure that you always seem to dig out of him.

“heh, maybe.. after all, you might just be my weakness it seems.” he’s already so close, feeling something other than the desert heat burst and warm along his thighs as he trembles on a thrust, pulling you closer as he hooks his arms around your waist. the back and forth stutter of cyno’s hips into yours only grows needier, a little more desperate with the heat of desire sparking along his veins, your finger twisting in his hair as he lets his head fall back to moan. “ugh.. but i guess we can rest a little.”

・✶ ｡ﾟKAEDEHARA KAZUHA

anyone who didn’t really know kazuha would think that he polite and well behaved, but you knew that he was a tease because you were the one who had to deal with his neediness. feeling his wrapped fingertips trace their way up the inside of your thigh underneath the dinner table while he gives you a good-natured, innocent grin.

“oh, what’s all this from?” kazuha hums in your ear as he presses himself into your side, his tone a smooth whisper despite the teasing lilt that laces it as his fingers swipe through your folds underneath the table. your hands are gripping the edge as you both sit surrounded by his shipmates, but you feel like you’re about to lose your mind when you feel the blonde next to you slip his index finger into your flexing cunt. hearing an almost pleased chuckle from his lips when he’s not met with much resistance, and you can only suck your lower lip between your teeth in an attempt to stifle your moan.

“it’s like you’re sucking me right in, you’re so wet.” you couldn’t lie that you loved the way kazuha worshiped your body, always finding himself blown away by every part of you. but that also meant that it was hard for him to keep his hands off of you when you always looked so irresistible to him. “s-someone might see.” you gasp as you try to close your thighs around his wrist, but the featherlight touch of his other hand makes you melt when he squeezes at your thighs to keep you spread. “don’t worry about that, this sight is only for me ofcourse.”

your eyes are unfocused as you try to look around for any prying eyes, but you can still sense the dreamy look on kazuha’s face as he gazes at you, pushing another finger in to join the first before he’s angling them against the sweet spot inside of you, the one that has your thighs twitching and a pleasurable heat building in your stomach. you feel like you might pass out with how good you feel, a needy mewl escaping from your pursed lips as you try to cover it up with a cough — drawing some unwanted attention before you feel your boyfriend’s lips press against your ear, seizing the opportunity to avoid suspicion. “oh? are you doing okay? how about i take you to my room and you can rest with me a little?”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #cyno x reader #cyno smut #heizou x reader #heizou smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut

4K notes · View notes

lilacsandpetals · 1 year

Text

Frozen Blossoms

Bi-Han x F! reader

POV: You get pushed into an arranged marriage you didn't ask for, and it's to the heir of the Lin Kuei.

Tags and notes: drabble (for now?), arranged marriage AU, SFW, exploring emotions, Bi-Han can't process his emotions properly, Pre-MK1 or maybe it's an MK1 AU??

Next part here

Your eyes bore into the reflection staring back at you. Your lips were painted red to match the deep shade of the dress that graced your body. A color you found uneasily fitting for the clan you were to marry into. Your hair was neatly tied back with a golden pin to hold it in place. The gems on the pin were in stark contrast to your dress, a shade of blue you had grown familiar with.

Chatter amongst your mother and relatives had faded into white noise as you yet again tried to grasp the reality of your impending future.

You were to be married off to secure an alliance with the Lin Kuei.

Initially, you had thought your parents were playing a cruel joke on you (they were never ones to do so, but you had still hoped). They explained the gravity of the situation. You knew that strife had been increasing in the area and that the Lin Kuei would offer protection that no one dared to rival. Your father shared similar ideals of honor and duty that the Grandmaster was privy to. However, the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei would not be so foolish as to strike up a deal without asking for something in return. Of course, your clan offered resources they found valuable, but it still would not be enough.

It just so happened that his oldest son was to take over the title soon, and that tradition deemed it necessary for him to take a bride.

And so you became the prized bargaining piece.

Naturally, the exchange of your hand in marriage for an alliance weaved its way into conversations between the clans.

Now here you were.

Your eyes trailed toward the door before a veil was placed upon your face. Could you make a run for it at this point? No, there’d be too many to stop you.

Your heart began to beat faster. Bi-Han was his name. He was always cold, much suited for the cryomancer. When the marriage talks began he seemed indifferent, you did not blame him; it wasn’t like you were ecstatic either.

But at the engagement, he didn’t appear happy. You sat across from him, his eyes pierced through you as if he wanted to disintegrate you on the spot. Yet he carried on his duties of presenting the betrothal gifts, which you accepted (it wasn’t as if you had a choice).

You wondered if he would look at you with the same animosity at the wedding ceremony.

—————

You proceed with the ceremony, ever the dutiful daughter. You repeat the vows like clockwork, as does he. You notice how stoic he sounds and you at least attempt to sound happy, albeit not very convincing.

Your families both rejoice, pleasantries and congratulations echo through the air. More so directed towards the respective families than they are at you or Bi-Han.

The rest of the night is spent masquerading under the facade of an eager, happy bride.

None saw through it, or maybe they did, and you chose to ignore their looks of pity. If they had been concerned, they could have spoken on your behalf prior.

Your mother would shoot you a sympathetic glance every so often, engulf you in her arms, and hold you for longer than needed, not that you truly minded. Maybe it was her way of attempting an apology. Yet you didn’t blame her for being complacent. She was no stranger to arranged marriages and this one was needed for the overall good. You will miss her at your new home.

On occasion, you felt as if you were catching the glances of the Grandmaster’s second son. He appeared understanding, his eyes shone kinder than your husband’s. You knew of the Grandmaster’s adopted son as well, he would smile whenever you looked his way.

His brothers seemed kind, why couldn’t Bi-Han come off that way?

Then again, perhaps you were jumping to conclusions. Who’s to say Bi-Han wasn’t as kind? Maybe his serious demeanor was just a front, the same way you kept up your own.

You would be able to tell later on.

Hopefully.

You don’t notice Bi-Han eyes drifting towards you while you remain lost in thought.

—————

The wedding concludes just as fast as it began. You were yearning for the end of it, yet dreading it at the same time.

You exchanged words of gratitude with the guests and said your goodbyes to your family. Reality was starting to hit you at this point. You were going to begin life anew with someone you considered a stranger at heart.

You tried to shake off the thoughts as you were ushered to your new bedroom. Moonlight shone through the windows onto the bed, sheets fitted a shade of crimson with flower petals decorating it. You bit your lip as you changed into your sleeping attire and sat on the bed. A few candles burned nearby, and you wondered if they were aphrodisiacs.

Tradition expected you to consummate your union on the wedding night, but surely he’d understand if you were nervous? You barely knew him… although you had to admit he was physically attractive. His eyes were piercing, his physique enticing, especially his biceps. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was well endowed…

What were you thinking? Perhaps it was your brain’s attempt to calm your nerves,

Time continued to pass by, and Bi-Han still hadn’t arrived. Where was he? Was he even coming?

You couldn’t stifle the yawn that hit you. Maybe he was busy talking to his brother or father? Or maybe he wouldn’t come.

Your mind began to wander. Maybe he had a lover he was saying goodbye to? Or maybe he had run away with a lover. You shook your head,

‘He wouldn’t, not if he’s as responsible and serious as he comes off as.’

You found yourself lying down and resting your head against the pillow. Hopefully, it would not come off as disrespectful. You were just relaxing until he showed up; if he showed up at all.

—————

You fell asleep, you didn’t mean to but the ceremony had exhausted you.

Bi-Han found you sprawled out on the bed, the blanket residing at your feet.

Truthfully, he avoided coming inside the bedroom. He had been pacing around in the main quarters before his father found him. The Grandmaster offered him words of advice and congratulations, which he begrudgingly accepted.

He had also spoken with Kuia Liang and briefly with Tomas. They both seemed to sense his disdain no matter how much he tried to veil it. They advised him to be kind and understanding of how his new bride must be feeling.

How would you be feeling? What stress would you have? You married into the strongest clan Earthrelm had. He on the other hand, now had one more burden to manage.

He hated the idea of an arranged marriage. He didn’t want to be tied down nor distracted from his duties as part of the Lin Keui. However, he knew it was necessary if he was to take on the role of Grandmaster after his father.

His mother and father had their marriage arranged as well. Bi-Han had a suspicion that they had feelings for one another before their engagement, at least that’s what his mother would allude to.

His new bride seemed to be adverse towards him. You barely looked at him, you barely spoke. Why were you so rude?

Both his father and yours had made arrangements between you two to interact prior to the wedding, yet you seemed out of touch. At clan banquets you were indifferent.

He had seen you with others. He had watched you before, prior to the public proposal of an engagement between you two. His curiosity had gotten the best of him so he had kept an eye on you at meetings and other affairs. You were lively, a smile could be found on your lips more often than not. You would speak with passion. You found enjoyment in training with your fellow clan mates. You had a habit of cracking your knuckles when nervous.

He tells himself he only became interested in watching you to better assess the situation; to see what he was getting himself into, or rather what his father had gotten him into.

Why were you so different with him compared to the others? He saw how you interacted with Tomas and Kuia Liang. Did you prefer them over him?

Bi-Han clenched his jaw. What did he lack that made you so apprehensive? He is second in command to his father, he maintains his form, and he fulfills any duty that is required of him. What more could you want in a partner?

Either way, this was an arrangement, he need not be so concerned with the actual ‘happiness’ of this marriage. He would fulfill his duties and he would expect you to fulfill yours.

Yet here you were, already failing at that.

Did you not want to consummate the marriage? Were you so careless towards tradition?

His eyes narrowed at your sleeping form. Did you have a lover? Is that why you were being so distant? If you did he would find out sooner or later, and he would deal with that nuisance swiftly.

He stepped closer. Your eyes were closed and the rhythm of your breathing was steady.

Now, he would be lying if he said he didn’t find you visually appealing.

Your lips looked soft and supple, your eyes warm yet inquisitive, your hands delicate compared to his.

Bi-Han scowled, what was he thinking? Was he already so easily distracted?

He groaned as he prepared himself to sleep. He had an early morning tomorrow, as were most mornings. His father and brother offered him the chance to stay in with his bride, but he wouldn’t bother. His duties towards the Lin Kuei stopped for no one.

As he gets into his side of the bed he notices you shivering and pulls the blanket over your sleeping form. He is able to do that much.

He doesn’t bother to cover himself, why bother when he is accustomed to the cold.

He maintains a noticeable distance between you two and turns his back away from you before he allows himself to fall into a slumber.

————

You wake up the following morning. The spot next to you is empty.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #bi han #bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #bi han mk #lin kuei #I've never written an x-reader AU lol #Hopefully I caught all the grammatical errors #Blossoms signify new beginnings

1K notes · View notes

asa-do-your-thing · 4 months

Text

Mine is the Vengeance

18+ MINORS DNI (Dark)Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader (/OC, hair colour is mentioned), mentioned Aegon x F!Reader 3.8k Warnings: DEAD DOVE I REPEAT DEAD DOVE, dubcon, noncon, blowjob, cunnilingus, P in V sex, smut duh, derogatory language, sexism, parent-child incest mentioned, as always no proofreading no nothing

Time had seemed to slow around you. Biting back tears, you flinched every time Queen Alicent took another section of your dark locks to braid them sweetly up onto your head, creating a beautiful updo. Two moons had passed since you’d been married, and it was common knowledge that Prince Aemond Targaryen had only ever touched you on your wedding night, refusing to interact with you more than he had to, only the two of you and Queen Alicent knowing why.

It was not your fault, you thought to yourself and sighed. You were not to be blamed. Though still, you had to be grateful that he stepped up the way he did. A true Prince, you thought with a tiny sneer.

“‘Tis alright, my dear, he can be peculiar about your… previous duties to King Aegon. It is now in your responsibility to give him a son, seeing as… the realm does not have a clear successor. To keep the peace, you’ll gift Prince Aemond a little son, so that Jaehaera can marry someone befitting her position,” Alicent whispered soothingly, yet the frigid coldness of her voice did not soothe you at all.

Ah yes, having to give your husband your body, because your rapist is burnt and broken beyond repair, so no heirs may follow. Wonderful. Wonderfully splendid news indeed. Though, with a resigned nod, you accepted the Queen Mother’s dubious advice and flinched as she pinned your veil into your braids.

“Now you look beautiful enough for him. Go now, child, and do what must me done. And oh, before I forget it - do give him one of the smiles that enraptured King Aegon so. You know, he told me that that was the reason why he… paid you such attention. He always used to ramble on about your smile. Now go, child, go, and show Aemond how pretty you can be.”

With a lingering trace of hesitation, you rose from the stool, your royal dress rustling softly against the stone floor. The reflection on the grand mirror struck you; you were a vision of pure elegance and regality, every inch the consort of a prince. As you walked towards the door, Alicent's words rang in your ears, "...show Aemond how pretty you can be."

The long hallway leading to your marital chambers seemed like an endless path. It was as though each step echoeed back into the silence, reminding you of your duty and what had to happen for you to walk this shameful path. Aegon, drunk. Aegon, sobbing. Aegon calling you ‘Mother’ while he held you down onto the mattress.

Aegon, who had screamed at you. Aegon, who after having received an earful by the Hand, Lord Otto Hightower, rashly betrothed you to Prince Aemond. Aegon, who caused all of your and Aemond’s misery. Though… it was your misery, first and foremost. Aemond never had to cry because Aegon had ripped him up because he was too drunk and eager. You clutched the delicate fabric of your gown, feeling knots in your stomach. Swallowing hard, you lifted your hand to knock on the door.

Prince Aemond sat his desk, engrossed in scrolls bearing news of the current situation across Westeros. Alliances, Troop movements and such things. He looked up as you enter, his violet eyes betraying surprise before he quickly masked it with hateful indifference. His gaze travelled over your form, taking in your carefully arranged hair and the gown that fell around you like a dark green waterfall.

"Are we receiving guests?", he asked with a hint of sarcasm in his cold voice. Your heart fluttered uneasily but summoning all the courage you had left, you flashed him a radiant smile - one that was reportedly fondly spoken about by King Aegon himself. Maybe… maybe he’d play along, just this once…

"No," you replied softly, moving closer to where he sat. "I just thought... perhaps..."

You trailed off, aware that your cheeks were red with embarrassment. He regarded you for a moment longer before sighing and setting aside his papers. He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, glowering down from his not insignificant height.

“Did the Queen Mother send you?”

Clenching and unclenching your fists, you nodded gently. “Yes, my Prince. I was to, well I still am to… fulfill my duty.”

The Prince looked down at you with a blank face, before disgust took over his fine, Targaryen features. Stepping ever closer to you, he held you by your wrists and looked you over, like cattle in the markets.

“Hm. Wouldn’t it be the greatest way to show my dear brother, the King, that I despise what he had done by just not touching you? Hm? So that I’ll be the next in line? Hm. I doubt that the Queen Mother really wished for me to bed you. Maybe you are just such a harlot that you’ve decided that you neded to get your fill again, now that my darling brother is burnt and crippled?”

His words stung, every syllable colored with venom. Your eyes welled up, threatening to spill over with unshed tears. Your heart clenched as he let go of your wrist. You turned away from him, unable to bear the scorn etched on his face.

“No,” you whispered lost in the silence of the room. “I am not a harlot,” you affirmed more firmly, turning back to him, your chin held high even as your eyes betrayed an ocean of hurt. “You know I am not. You know exactly what the King has done. Does that truly make me a whore? And I came here because it is my duty. Whether you choose to fulfill yours or not is up to you.”

Aemond crossed his arms over his chest, appearing unmoved by your heartfelt plea. But you saw something flicker in his eyes, a spark of understanding perhaps? It was quickly extinguished by a cold hardness that made you shiver despite the warmth of the room.

“Your duty?” he echoed, his tone laced with mockery and bitterness. “What a pleasant duty it must be for you – first my brother and now me?”

He began pacing around the room, looking more like a caged beast than a prince. You watched him quietly, feeling small and insignificant beneath his irate gaze.

After a long silence that felt like ages, Aemond stopped before the hearth, its flames casting ominous shadows on his face making him appear more dragon than man. He finally said in an eerily calm voice, “I will take you, then. Take you in every way known to man. You’ve been a whore once, so why not be a whore now? Give me my damned son and then you can go and fuck my corpse-like brother again for all I care.”

The words hit you like an ice-cold gust of wind in winter's heart. The world seemed to crumble around you as you grappled with the gravity of his words.

“My Prince, Prince Aemond,” you implored softly. But a single glare from him stopped your protest. “As you wish, my Prince.”

Silence between the two of you spread as the two of you stared at each other, not quite knowing what to do now.

“Take off your clothes, but be slow. With every piece of clothing that you lose you shall tell me what my brother had done to you. Tell me all about yourself and your wonderfully wretched body, my dearest Lady Wife,” he murmured and sank into a chair with a small smirk, pouring himself a cup of wine.

You felt like a deer caught in the glare of a predator, frozen and terrified. But this was your duty, as painful and degrading as it was. Each slow inhale and exhale felt like a shard of ice piercing your lungs as you reluctantly began to unlace your dress from the back. As the fabric loosened, you began to speak, each word echoing sharply in the silent room.

"His hands...he was rough with them," you started, trying to keep your voice steady. "He tore at my clothes with an eagerness that scared me."

The room was silent except for your voice and the soft rustling of fabric. The first layer of your dress fell to the ground, pooling around your feet. You could feel Aemond's gaze on you, cold and unyielding.

"He pinned me down in the council chambers...," you continued, paling slightly at the memory. "His breath stank of wine... he didn't even look at me... not really. I was two and ten, I’ve not even flowered then."

As you spoke, another layer fell away. You stood before him shivering slightly, feeling naked despite being partially clothed, your veil tickling you softly.

Your eyes met Aemond's gaze and for a moment, there was silence - a tense void filled with resentment, hatred – but also a seed of understanding that seemed to have sprouted from his icy demeanor.

“He didn't care about me... I was just an object to him,” you whispered, stepping out of your last dress, standing there like a doll, which some girl used to dress up, as you stood there in your shift, your hose and your luxurious headdress. “He always wanted me to tell him that I loved him. All while he was fucking me, scraping my face against stones, letting me bleed.”

Aemond’s eyes widened slightly at your statement while his jaw clenched tight. He downed the rest of his cup in one go and sat onto the bed, motioning you to come forth.

“That sounds like you were not a whore at all… but your gasps and moans were heard all through the Red Keep. Why did I always have to listen to your moans, never your sobs? Why did I even have to see you bouncing on his cock, tits out as if you were on the street of silk?” He asked slowly and bent you over his knees, methodically rolling up your shift to bare your arse to him.

All the heat rose to your face in embarrassment and anger as you tried to lie down in a more comfortable position, or, preferrably, to wriggle out of his grip completely. All you got, in return, was a hard slap against your supple arsecheeks. “Aemond! My P-prince! What are you-?”, you yelped, but were cut off by another rough spank.

"That's 'Prince Aemond' to you," he said, his tone firm. "And you will speak to me respectfully or you won't speak at all."

You bit your lip, forcing back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes as your face burned with shame. But under his gaze, you found the strength to continue.

"My... my moans," you choked out, swallowing dryly. "They were not of pleasure but of pain. The King... He... He enjoyed making me cry out..."

Another slap made you gasp with surprise, your body jerking under the sudden pain, your headdress jangling at the sudden motion. You glared at him, your eyes aflame with anger and hurt. But he remained stoic, his face impassive as he stared back at you.

"You were there in the shadows, watching... listening," you said bitterly. "Did it bring you pleasure too? Hearing my cries? Seeing my discomfort? Pumped your fist while I bled?"

Aemond didn't respond but his grip tightened on your wrist and for a moment his face hardened.

"Am I expected to believe that?" he asked softly. "You expect me to believe that it wasn't consensual? That you weren't enjoying yourself? You looked so serene. Like the statue of the maiden in the sept…"

His words were like a knife in your heart and you jerked away from him only to be pulled back into place by a strong hand on your shoulder.

"Look at me, woman," he commanded, forcing your head up so your eyes met his. There was a strange look in his eyes now – not quite apologetic but no longer filled with rage either. “Tell me that you’ll look at me the same way and that you will not be complaining, chattering or crying. I want you to be as serene as you were back then.”

Bile rose in the back of your throat but you nodded slowly, getting up, but yelped as Aemond ripped your shift off your body, leaving you there in your bejewelled veil and your stockings. Not for long though - he pushed you down onto his bed with a force that knocked the wind out of your lungs.

“Tell me you want me too. Tell me that you’ll be as wanton for me as you were for him,” he whispered into your ear, his long silver hair brushing over your shivering, naked form. “Don’t deny it, I know you liked it, just as you’ll like this… But I’ll be gentle, I’ll treat you like a Lady…”, he mumbled on as he fumbled with his doublet.

Was he… was your sick, twisted husband truly trying to get himself to forget that you were here against your will? That you would never truly give yourself to him or his brother?

You did not immediately reply and received another slap, this time against your mound, making you yelp. “I… uh… yes?”

"Good. That's a good girl," Aemond purred, his eye flashing dangerously in the candlelight as he worked the buttons of his doublet. "Remember, you're here to please me. You're here to make me feel like the king my brother is."

His words stung, but you chose not to respond. Instead, you lay stiffly on the bed, your eyes fixed on an intricate pattern on the ceiling, trying desperately not to think about what was about to happen.

"What happened with my brother... It doesn't matter now," Aemond said softly, interrupting your thoughts. He dropped his doublet onto the floor and moved to unbuckle his pantaloons. His eyes ran down your exposed form greedily. "I will make sure that it is different. I will make sure you enjoy this."

His hands roamed over your body — fingertips barely skimming your skin, followed by gentle caresses and soft strokes that made you shiver despite yourself. He was true to his word: he was gentle — at least so far.

"Stop it," you whispered, your voice breaking as you pulled away from him and covered yourself with your arms. "Please."

Aemond's brows furrowed in confusion — or perhaps frustration — as he looked at you questioningly.

"I said I want... I want you too," you lied through gritted teeth, forcing a smile onto your face. You had to keep him appeased — keep him from hurting you any further. "But I want you... naked too. Show me how I should touch you."

Your plea seemed to surprise him as he quickly rid himself of the last articled of clothing. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, such a wanton little wife I have. Laying there with Jewels and a modest veil covering her hair… wanting to touch me. Alright then, Lady Wife, touch me,” he tutted and pushed you back up onto your knees, his finger pressing against your chin. “And do keep your wonderful smile while you try and take me with your mouth.”

You looked down at Aemond, the glow of the draping curtains casting shadows along his chiseled body. Forcing a shaky breath through your lips, you nodded and gently wrapped your hand around his hard cock. The contact made him hiss and you glanced up through your lashes to see him watching you intently, a peculiar look in his eyes.

"Well? Don't just sit there," he growled, his fingers tangling in your hair, playing with your veil. You swallowed hard against the knot in your throat before you lowered your head down onto him, his swollen, leaking tip staring at you teasingly as you wrapped your lips around him, quickly bobbing up and down along.

But Aemond had different ideas. He guided you at a leisurely pace, drawing out the experience as he muttered deeply under his breath. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear that hadn't fallen yet.

"Slow down," he murmured. "I want to enjoy this." The way he spoke to you was as if he truly believed that this was what you wanted too. It was like he was coaxing you along, encouraging you like one might a timid horse.

You could feel the heat radiating off him as he pulsed subtly under your touch, his fingers relaxing their grip on your hair as if he was trying to fight against the pleasure coursing through him. His other hand fumbled for something on the side table - a small vial of sweet smelling oil - and tilted it into his palm.

"Open," he commanded softly. As much as you didn't want to obey him, fear of punishment had you complying immediately. He slowly poured the warm liquid into your mouth before pulling back slightly to watch it run down your chin and onto your heaving tits. It tasted nice, at least, you thought. At least he hadn’t hurt you too much. At least, you thought with an embarrassed blush creeping up your cheeks, it felt… okay. Not good, not great, but there had been a certain head between your thighs. Maybe it had just been the lewdness of the situation.

"That's a good girl," Aemond purred in your ear, his voice thick with lust as his cock twitched against your cheek. "Now, back to it."

You swallowed him deeper this time, taking him all the way down, your nose brushing against his pubes. He moaned approvingly, his grip on your hair tightening again as he started bucking his hips into your eager mouth in short, shallow thrusts. Your mind drifted away as you thought of anything but what was happening: the feel of sea breeze on your face, the smell of wildflowers blooming on the hills of your home, and the sound of your mother singing one of her lullabies.

Aemond's breathing became ragged and uneven above you. "I'm close," he panted, warning you just before hot, sticky seed shot into your mouth. You didn't stop until he told you to pull away, gasping for air as you wiped your face and chest with the edge of the bedspread. There was a tense silence between you both before he finally spoke up again.

"Get on all fours and spread yourself for me," he said simply. “I wish to taste you.”

As you were unpinning your veil, you felt Aemond’s big, sleek hands on your shoulders as he shook his head. “No, keep that on. I want to fuck my little doll - the doll Mother has dressed, the doll my brother has played with. But now you are mine. My pretty doll. Taking me so innocently…”, he rambled once more as he lowered himself between your trembling thighs.

Were men not supposed to be spent after their release? What was he doing to you?

You braced yourself as best as you could against the intrusion, trying not to whimper as he spread your lips apart. His tongue lapped at your clit, teasingly at first, then firmly, compelling you to arch your back and cry out in both pleasure and pain. His fingers plunged inside of you simultaneously, stretching you impossibly wide while his tongue continued its ministrations on your overly sensitive button.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked smugly, his voice full of satisfaction. "Tell me you like it."

"I... I-I," you couldn't help but moan as he pressed his face against your core harder, his tongue leaving a trail of fire along your sensitive folds.

"Say it," he growled against your thighs, his cock hardening once more against your thigh.

"I... I like it," you panted. "Oh.. oh Gods Aemond - I like it. Just like - mmph!”

His finger pushed into you to the hilt, curling and stroking inside until you were trembling on the edge of climax. "Say my name again, whore," he demanded low.

"Aemond," you gasped out, panting for breath. "I - I like it Aemond!"

He chuckled darkly against your core, his tongue flicking over your clit furiously as his fingers moved in and out of your wet channel. The waves of pleasure crashed over you like a tsunami, rendering you helpless underneath him until your back arched from the mattress and you cried out his name once more, clenching around his invading digits.

He pulled back just as quickly as he'd started, leaving you panting and drenched with sweat. "Good girl," he praised, wiping his mouth with the back of his forearm before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, forcing his tongue roughly into your mouth. As much as you hated to admit it, your body responded to him regardless of what your mind thought of him; juices slicked between your thighs as he ground against your core, hardeness poking your soft flesh.

You hated it. You loved it. You hated him. You loved him. You -

"Now let's see how tight that cunt really is," he growled against your ear before roughly rolling you onto your stomach, spreading your legs apart and plunging his length inside with one smooth motion, placing your veil over your hair in a way his mother used to do in the sept.

You could do naught but squeal and moan, trying your hardest to push him out with your cunny while tears formed in your eyes. Did he not promise to be gentle? But if you were to complain, what would he do then? What was he doing now? Your mind raced incessantly.

Would he also want to call you Mother? Suckle on your teats after he was spent? Or was he different to Aegon? Aegon would’ve finished minutes ago, you thought nervously. Why was Aemond toying with you like that?

He pulled back, almost fully before slamming in again, mercilessly repeating the motion until you were begging for mercy. "Aegon was right," he grunted as he pounded into you, grunting with each thrust. "You are tighter than a maiden!"

The mention of his brother's name sent daggers through your heart and spurred you onwards. Your walls clenched and unclenched around him, desperately trying to force him out.

"Yes," he moaned, interpreting your actions as pleasure instead of pain. “That's it my pretty doll, squeeze me tighter... tighter! Show your husband how good you can treat him!”

With a final grunt, he released his seed inside you, collapsing on top of your trembling frame. "You're mine now, doll," he panted, spent but still hard inside of you. "Mine and only mine. Put on a cloak and go show yourself to Aegon in his sickbed. Show him my dripping seed. Tell him that you’re mine." A few seconds passed before he pulled himself out of you and turned away. “I’ll see you in a month, if your blood has come again. If not, well… Fare well, until you can hand me my heir. Good night.”

#asas fics #fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond smut #dark aemond smut #aegon #king aegon #prince aegon targaryen #dark aemond x reader #aemond x reader

202 notes · View notes

vinomino · 2 months

Text

Pōmum grānātum

Pomegranates: They do not ripen after they’re picked but bruise easily when ripe.

Featuring: Suo.H x f!reader, Sakura.H x f!reader

Contents: sfw, unrequited love, angst, hurt no comfort

Nothing is promised, nothing is guaranteed. If he could go back in time he would beat it into himself. Tear the skin off his knuckles, burst his throat out at the young fool.

It felt only yesterday you two were students, wasting the afternoons away together. A hand against your lips as the sweet sounds of your laughter spill out, chuckling at another one of Suo’s compliments.

“Really? Thank you.” You reply to his comment. Why, I actually like you a lot.

Smiling against his teacup, he had all the time in the world to make you believe it. Patience has always been his virtue. If only he didn’t beat around the bush like an idiot.

The same smile as he has now as you kiss Sakura under the altar. Old peers and new friends line the seats in the audience, cheering for the joyous occasion. No one can tell how his lone eye is portraying his true feelings. The feeling of you slipping out of his grasp, the anguish– the horror that you are gone. His friend lifts the sheer white veil over your head as you smile brightly at someone other than him.

His hands tightly clasped in his lap, knuckles turning white. His earrings swaying as he drops his chin to avoid the scene. How could it be?

“Uncle Suo– Uncle Suo, what does this one mean?”

“Ah…” Pink camellia flowers. “It means longing...”

Suo’s voice falters.

Tiny fingers turn the page. An innocent child, unaware of the longing he has for their mother. Noticing the bow in her hair unraveling, “Wait a minute.” Gently, he ties it again. He’s sure right now, it's a picture of a father doting on his daughter—a sliver of a taste of what he could have.

Oh, the eternal unbearable torment you’ve put him in.

The day he saw you embracing the two colored boy under the rain, the coldness penetrating his bones– the drizzle blurring his view. His red hair damp and sticking to his paled skin. A profound agony was all he felt, watching you fall deeper and deeper and deeper in love with a man that wasn’t him. It’s been years since then, but he’s still there. Stuck there in the fog– there in his grief.

Would you call him Hayato as warmly as you say Haruka? Would you hold him the same? I want to be him. I want to be the one you belong to.

He wants to kiss you senselessly every morning, every night and whenever he can in between. He wants to hear your voice in the dead of night. He wants to be there beside you in your darkest days. He wants to eat and drink everything you place in front of him, good or bad, because it was made by your precious hands. He wants to feel your hot skin against him as he makes love to you. He wants to hear you call out for him. He wants to burn in the feeling of your passionate fire. He wants to love you to the point of no return–

The blood he has in his veins, the heart that beats against his ribcage, and the brain that controls his body all belong to you.

He belongs to this damned love.

If you asked him to, he’d kneel at your feet and kiss the soles. He’d dedicate his life to you, become your dog. You are his heaven.

“Papa!” Your daughter hops off the couch and runs as fast as her little legs could carry towards her father. Towards Sakura, perhaps he should say Haruka since you are now also a Sakura.

“Suo, thanks for looking after her.” Sakura picks her up, seating her on his arm.

The daughter who is the spitting image of you. The daughter he could’ve had with you if the gods weren’t so cruel.

“It’s no problem, I enjoyed our time together.” His tone hid the bitterness beneath it.

“Huh…you got flowers again? Thanks, she really enjoys them.” Sakura glances over at the vase on the coffee table.

A vase containing a bouquet of primroses. Young love, eternal love. The joy of youth.

I loved you then and I will always love you forever.

“Oh, Suo!” You enter the room and color erupts, the sunlight gleams brighter, and the flowers rise to greet you. You steal his breath even now and make him feel like he’s in his teenage years all over again. “Have you been good?” You kiss your child’s chubby cheeks, rubbing your nose against her, as she shrieks out giggles in Sakura’s arms— your husband’s arms. The beautiful view of a family laughing at his misery.

You score lines along him, splitting him open with your hands, popping out his insides with your thumbs, and the dark tart liquid seeping from beneath your feet as you crush him apart.

#mino.drabbles #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker #suo hayato #suo x reader #Sakura Haruka #look latin for four years and still don’t know a thing #mino.writes

129 notes · View notes

sanjoongie · 4 months

Text

ᵢ wᵢₗₗ cₒₙₛᵤₘₑ yₒᵤ

🌺Second Submission for The Language of Flowers event held by @cultofdionysusnet

🌺Prompt Chosen: Endelweiss {courage, power}

🌺Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader (f)

🌺Genre: smut

🌺Trope: strangers to lovers

🌺Au: modern gods au, immortal au, dystopian au, priestess au

🌺Rating: 18+, MDNI

🌺Warnings: contains dark themes of sacrifice for the greater good, religious tones, suppression of the public by the government, execution speak, death Kinks>>> orgasm untouched, magic fingering, overstim, consensual ownership, dom! hyunjin, sub! reader, penetrative sex with no barrier, pull out method (glowing god cum!), breast play, biting, dacryphilia, aftercare

🌺Word Count: 3,878

🌺Summary: When a horrid government decides the only way to deal with you is to make you a priestess of a dark god, 'a great honor', when actuality is a death sentence, you put on your bravest face and go head to head with the horror of your fate. But when it turns out not everything is as it seems to be, just perhaps you could be in charge of your fate... if you survive, of course

🌺Author's Note: originally i had this entire story planned out for mingi and a slavic spring celebration and it was gonna be epic, but @anyamaris and Hyunjin hijacked my creative processes but i'm not complaining 😆 thank you once again for inspiring me anya 💞 love me some good god aus

🌺divider by @cafekitsune

"But what do we do with her?"

Bruised, battered and beaten, you kneel prostrate before a bench of dark faces. Men and women in charge of your life, who you've never met.

"She can't go unpunished," another supplies.

"But if we reveal to the public what she has done..."

The silence is palpable. How does one publicly punish a citizen and not make them a martyr for their cause? They were in a predicament.

One dry, old voice speaks up. "There is one option... he has an opening for a priestess."

This silence is sharp now, razor edged and worrisome.

"A Bride... yes... that would suffice..."

You'd have asked questions if you weren't gagged.

"A cover up. We could celebrate. Bring back the old ways. He would be pleased."

Your heart hammers in your chest when one of them says, "She wouldn't survive the night."

You begin to struggle when another agrees with, "He's a monster."

The guards drag you away as you hear, "There's a reason he has no permanent priestess."

All this because you dared to ask questions. Your government was not meant to be questioned, however. You wanted to know the why’s and how’s but you were just supposed to be a good little sheep that went with where the shepherd told you to go.

Perhaps… that had evolved into poking and prodding. Perhaps you might have gone to a meeting or two of like-minded individuals who also had questions. But they also demanded answers. Perhaps your government didn’t know what to do with you once they caught you. Perhaps you were fucked.

“It’s a great honor to be dedicated to one of the gods,” a soft spoken priestess chirps as she offers you garments that were too luxurious for you to have ever touched before.

“But this one…” another hesitates.

The first one hushes the second. “We clothe you as a bride for you are committing your life to the God you shall be serving. He will provide you with everything you need for your life with him.”

“He?” You prompt.

“He,” the second says firmly. “Your job is not to ask questions but to receive his blessings.”

You reside yourself to being quiet and simply absorbing. There is a hint of fear in the air, you can feel it like goosebumps on your flesh. You try to not let it infect you but fear burrows deep into every part of your mind.

You put on a brave face and smile when you’re being told again and again how much of an honor it is to be given to a god. To an immortal, having a human be an intermediary between his brilliance and the minds of the lesser, was an honor gifted. But was it an honor received?

“A veil for our bride to be,” the soft spoken priestess offers and you bend down for the wizened old lady. She fixes it upon your head and spreads the black lace over your face.

“Now it is time to celebrate your honor.” The second priestess waves her hand to the door that will open to your fate.

You walk along a corridor of gathered people. They threw flowers at your feet, like they were truly celebrating your nuptials. They cheered and whistled and shouted well wishes.

They didn't know they were celebrating your last day on this planet but at least they weren't jeering you at you as you made your way to an execution stage.

The grand path took you straight to the temple of the God of Chaos. You didn't know much about him but the temple had seen better days. Still, you kept your head high as the cheering died off when they realized where exactly you were going.

It was utter silence as the guards of the temple opened the door and you stepped through it. This was it; this was the beginning of your end.

The doors close behind you with a loud boom and then you are left with the dust and the disarray. The temple interior, for it lacked a priestess, had no upkeep. Melted candles and wilted incense cover every surface. Alcoves held art that didn't paint a pretty picture for you. There are burning cities and tornados and plagues. He truly was the god of chaos.

Well, there was no delaying the inevitable.

At the back of the temple, there was a chipped fresco of a door. You had been instructed to simply bow and wait for your ‘husband’ to receive you. So you threw yourself to your knees, with your black lace wedding dress pooled around you and said the words to summon the god in charge of your life now.

“Oh God of Chaos, oh husband of mine to be, please bestow unto me your earthly form, so that I may tend to all within your realm and shower you with prayers and attention,” You pray.

The mural of the door becomes murky and iridescent, like quicksilver alive, and through steps your God. His brilliance almost blinds you and you throw up an arm to brace yourself from the light.

A big sigh can be heard. “I forget how weak you mortals are,” the voice drawls.

The light recedes and you put your arm down. You had expected to see a monster but instead you are awestruck with beauty. The god, the man, has black hair down to his shoulders, held back in a simple half-up do. He needs no clothing of opulence but requires a simple robe, falling off one shoulder like he barely minded to keep clothed. He walks down the steps, pat pat pat, a pace of a lazy being, not held to the restraint of time.

“Let’s see my bride,” He murmurs, chucking a finger under your chin.

You stare up at him, directly so, and see chaos swimming in his pupils. If he is your death, so be it. You would embrace it as if it was a gift. You refuse to go out whimpering like you regret your choices. You were firm in your stance that you deserved answers.

“Oh, how delectable,” the god smirks.

“Husband,” You reply demurely.

The god casts back his head in laughter, almost melodic in its sound. “Hyunjin. We can do away with that wife and husband stuff. Those are constructs of humans. I am not one of those.”

“Hyunjin, then,” You say, somewhat at half-mast.

He tilts his head curiously. “You’re different from the other ones they sent me. Why?”

You chew hesitantly on your lip. What did you have to lose? Your life was already forfeit. So why not give this god the blunt truth. “They feared you. I do not.”

“Courage, hmm?” Hyunjin begins to pace around you, a sandaled foot slapping the slab of concrete. “You humans are wondrous and yet disappointing most days.”

You jut out your chin stubbornly. “Yes, courage. Now are you going to kill me or play with your food?”

The pacing stops and Hyunjin stares at you for a moment before a maniacal grin pulls at his features. “Play with my food, huh?”

You feel like your heart is akin to a trapped bird, beating its wings against your chest. Are you even breathing? What does an immortal get from killing a human? A temporary amusement and then flock back to their realm?

“If you're my priestess now, will you pray at my temple?” Hyunjin runs the back of his finger down the lace of your arm.

“I--” You didn't know what to say but you could feel the underlying words. Is this how you survived?

“Please, Hyunjin, I would be your priestess. I would dedicate my life to serving you. I would--”

“What about your body?” Hyunjin wonders, biting down on his thumbnail. “Would you release it to my control? Give yourself utterly to me?”

“My body is no longer my own.” You collapse to the floor, arms above your head, palms up, knees still tucked under you. “Do with it what you will.”

“And what if my will was to have you bent over my altar?”

You gasp, sitting up. You cannot help yourself, because you did not expect to be spoken like this by a god. Then again, he was the god of chaos.

“If it would please you, Hyunjin, I would.”

“Would you?” Hyunjin cocks his head, looking to read the words on your face. “Would you let me part your moistened lips with my cock and we've barely introduced ourselves?”

“I know you said to do away with the constructs of humans, but if I am your wife and you are my husband, would we not consummate our marriage?”

Hyunjin holds your gaze, deep and dark, penetrating and digging. “I would. But I ask you again, Priestess, would you?”

You rose slightly on your knees until your lips were so close a flower petal would barely have room. “I would become your priestess in every way, Hyunjin.”

For if you had to fuck a god, one beautiful and tempting, and yes mad, would you not, in order to live?

“Then I will take all that you have to offer. Your initiation to become my priestess begins now.”

With a flick of Hyunjin’s wrist, you find your body pushed up against the altar that he had been speaking of before. It is a rusty color, which you quickly dismiss from your mind as old blood. You brace yourself as you feel hands touching your legs, firmly pushing them apart but you feel no warmth of Hyunjin’s body behind you. Those same ‘hands’ rip the back of your dress and you feel the cool, dry air of the temple, giving you goosebumps.

“Human… why do you not have any underwear on?” Hyunjin drawls, still sounding far away.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. “They did not supply me with any… the other priestesses…”

Hyunjin cackles wildly. Suddenly, with a snap of a finger, Hyunjin appears before you, a slight cocky smile tugging at his lips. “I love a good surprise.”

That being said, you watch with eyes big with wonder when Hyunjin makes a crude motion with his fingers. You feel as if he is fucking you with his fingers but he is directly in front of you. Whatever chaotic power the god wields, it’s fucking you good. You gasp and press your cheek to the cool stone of the altar, holding on as the ‘fingers’ push in and out of you. Hyunjin crooks his fingers in a come hither motion and you moan wantonly as he presses against your g-spot like he knew where it was all along.

“Pray to me, Priestess,” Hyunjin croons softly.

You stutter and moan through broken sentences and Hyunjin glows with the soft power only a god must be able to hold. You’re sure he could make you explode into a tiny million red chunks but instead he uses his godhood in a pleasurable way on you, and you add a silent prayer that it remains that way.

You came on that altar untouched and a moment of shame runs through you. Are you truly that easy? But it was your life at stake, shouldn’t that also matter? You gasp on the altar, and the same hand that ‘made you come’ smoothes over your hair. “You did wonderfully for me, my lamb”

You raise your head curiously. “Did I pass?”

Hyunjin throws his head back and laughs a belly laugh, both high and low pitched at the same time. “My lamb, that was only the beginning.”

Hyunjin’s robe slips off his shoulder and pools on the floor below him, kicking off his sandals as well. He walks, slowly but firm-footed, around the altar to move behind you. His hands are soft but callus-worn against your hips as he guides you to turn around and face him. His eyes sweep over your face but when he finds no hesitation, only excitement, he grabs a handful of your dress at your chest and rips it open.

He wraps one of your legs around his hips, almost lovingly, fingers skimming over your skin. “This is the next test, my lamb.”

You swallow trepidation down your throat, refusing to let your courage falter. “I can do it.”

Hyunjin crawls forward on his altar, hips slotted against yours. His cock is heavy against your mound, both slender and long. “They say I’m a monster, are you sure?”

You don’t speak anymore, but buck your hips upwards so your wet heat smears against his length. “You excite me, God of Chaos. I’m sure.”

Without further adieu, Hyunjin’s cockhead parts your moist lips, just like he had described previously. He pushes and pushes and pushes until he’s nestled deep inside of your heat. He moves with sure strokes that only delight you and send a thrum of pleasure through your system. He fondles a breast, thumb strumming your nipple to a pert peak. His hips do most of the work but soon he finds that your body writhes for him.

Hyunjin is quick to press you into the stone. A hand holds your hip down so that he can drive deeper into your depths. Another hand holds your hand above your head, fingers interlaced with strong support. He holds you down, not to keep you in place, but so that your pleasure doesn’t escape you.

His dark eyes dart all over your face, picking up each minute frown and tiny gasp. His body speaks to yours, able to read how each stroke of his cock pushes you slowly forward to a pleasurable outcome. This is only his first time sheathed inside of you but he moves as if this was the thousandth time he’s fucked you. It’s poetry and you revel in the rhythm and rhymes.

“Hy-hyunjin,” You stammer. “I--”

“Go ahead,” Hyunjin encourages you, “Scream my name. It will only be one of many.”

Your limbs tighten as a force of lightning runs among your veins. You scream his name just like he commands, cunt convulsing around his perfect length. He doesn’t stop driving into you. At first it feels as if he is escorting you through your orgasm but then it feels too much and you cry out at the overstimulation.

“This doesn’t stop until I’m done with you,” Hyunjin whispers against the shell of your ear. “And I’ll never be done with you.”

Your insides feel as if you’ve been plowed a dozen times over, raw and sensitive, eventually giving over to another building of pleasure. You fight through your fog-filled mind to gasp, “Will… will you come as well?”

Hyunjin quirks an eyebrow at you. “A god comes only when he wants to. A seed given to a mortal can change the world's destiny.”

Hyunjin uses both hands to hold you down, a beautiful sheen of sweat covering his body and face. You briefly wonder if perhaps you will add a mural to the temple, one of this beautiful, chaotic god above you, beaming over you as if you are doing a fine job under him. Would that ruin his mythos or would it only add to it?

You find another orgasm with Hyunjin’s face buried into the crook of your neck. Hyunjin bites down on the junction, as if to ground himself. You’re raised on your hands and knees and taken like a beast from behind, if only to find another pleasure in the angle difference. You find your orgasm again and again. You feel like a quivering nerve, all exposed and lit with rapture.

But you don’t protest, simply whining through the pain to pleasure. You drink in everything Hyunjin gives you and it only makes his grin grow and grow.

Hyunjin seems to feed off of you, in ways you didn’t quite understand. The god enjoyed fucking. He wasn’t lost in the pleasure, but it was more like he never finished seeking out yours. For each orgasm you discovered, each longer and more drawn out to pull from your shaking body, he was determined to pull another one from you.

“You know I could go from sunset to sunrise and still never have enough of this,” Hyunjin admits.

You’re sweating and gasping for breath but still you find yourself yearning for more. Hyunjin simply looks to gift you with more pleasure than you possibly could hold but this feeling of being pampered, of being pleasured, it is intoxicating. You’re drunk off Hyunjin’s adoration of your body.

Your limbs are entangled in a lover’s pile. Still, you broach the subject again. Courage seems to prop you up time after time. “Come inside of me, Hyunjin,” You plead with a hoarse voice.

Hyunjin smiles angelically, clearly happy you insist on his pleasure. “Are you that greedy to carry a demi-god?”

You shake your head, surprised you even have the energy to do that. “I wish to see your pleasure written along your face.”

Hyunjin blinks in surprise and then laughs. “I am a god, I take pleasure in whatever I choose. You needn’t worry about me.”

Still, you press your case. “I wish to see your face when you come inside of me, Hyunjin. I want to see what it looks like when you’ve found pleasure inside of me. Is that not what a priestess is? Do I not serve you in the highest regard?”

Hyunjin runs a finger along the side of your face. “I have never had a priestess like you.”

“Then I passed the initiation? I am yours?” You raise yourself up with one arm.

“My lamb, you've been mine the moment you walked through that door,” Hyunjin whispers.

Hyunjin gathers you in his arms and presses your back against the mural where the world burns in the tiles. He penetrates you with ease, jaw dropping to mimic your own delighted gasp. With each thrust, his head nodding, following your own body rocking to his movements. He is enraptured by the way your pleasure made form in your features.

“Hyunjin.” You feel tears pass over your cheekbones.

“Don't be frustrated, you've done so well for me,” Hyunjin praises you, wiping away the rivulets of salt water. “I'll come, just like you wanted. I’d love to fill you up but I’d rather have you as a priestess than a god bearer for now.”

Hyunjin flexes his pelvis, his body making a wonderful line between your legs. You cling to his hips, legs locked behind his back, intent on showing the god you’re worthy of his climax. You squeeze down on him tightly, the crude squelching of your wetness and the way he is drilling into you echoing in the temple. His eyebrows furrow in concentration, teeth clamping down on his lower lip. You’re aware he won’t fill you up by his previous words but you’re simply looking forward to his orgasm.

With a great shout, Hyunjin pulls out, rutting against your mound and he comes, his cum hitting both your stomach and his. It glows golden, just like his godhood and then dies, like a firefly fading out. You love the way his pink mouth parts open, face full of pleasure as he releases, even though it can't be in side of you. Still, the pleasure is yours. Hyunjin grins, breathing heavily, appearing sweaty but satisfied. “Was the show worth what you paid for?”

You sigh dreamily. “I only crave for more now.”

You groan loudly when your legs untangle from his body and Hyunjin pins you against the wall with both hands heavily on your shoulders. “You need a good soak, my lamb. I still forget how fragile humans truly are.”

“That would be very much appreciated,” You say hopefully.

With a wave of Hyunjin’s hand, your gown simply disappears from your body, like it had never been there in the first place. You feel relieved to be free of the costume the other priestess’ had put on you but didn’t realize the repercussions of revealing your full body to him.

With your ripped gown having been vanished, you send a tired smile Hyunjin’s way but find that his face is stormy with rage. “Hyunjin? What have I done?”

Hyunjin shakes his head, one iris becoming light while the other remains dark. “They hurt you?”

You purse your lips. “They seeked to punish me for my questions, Hyunjin. I wasn’t a good little citizen like they prefer.”

Hyunjin paces, his perfect thighs taut with the movement. “They beat you and then decided that a bruised fruit was good enough to be my priestess? They insult you and me in the same breath.”

“Hyunjin, I believe you promised me a long soak.” You hold your hand out, wiggling your fingers. You couldn't very well rewrite the past and you aren’t looking to relive it either.

You feel a surge of power as Hyunjin takes your hand and takes you both to the large Greek styled bath of old. He sits on the bench, you between his legs. His arms frame the lip of the pool, tendrils of hair framing his face.

Your arms wobble as your hand dips under the water to wet your arms and upper body. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to do much other than float,” you state.

You turn your head to see Hyunjin looks quite smug but also content. He is glowing and you’re not sure if it’s his godhood or simply happy with what he has accomplished. “You performed your duties perfectly, Priestess.”

You duck your head, images of the many ways Hyunjin has taken you again and again. You had really done that with a stranger… no, a God. “I am happy to pass the initiation.”

The comfortable silence between you two stretches over like a soft and familiar blanket. You’re content to let the hot water soothe your aches and pains, well earned from the way Hyunjin had fucked you right. You’re not exactly sure what Hyunjin gets out of this, he was a god, could he have aches and pains? Regardless, the way he leans into your body, hugging you to his. It seems like he is still enjoying the presence of your body.

For what seems like centuries but perhaps only lasts a few moments, Hyunjin stretches and removes himself from the bath. You move to leave with him but he insists you remain. “I think it’s time to make the world quake for me again. I’ve been absent from this realm for too long.” He sends you a long look. “Tell me exactly what they did to you.”

You do not dare leave any detail out, so you spill your truth in a frenzy of stumbling words. Hyunjin, instead of getting angry, re-acquires that grin you had first seen on his face, full of madness. He leans downwards and tips your chin up for the softest of farewell kisses.

“You did so well for me,” He purrs, “Allow me to do this for you.”

Without truly understanding the full meaning, you nod your head in acknowledgement. Hyunjin throws back his head with a cackle bubbling from his throat. He shoves on his sandals and tosses on the robe he had removed a long time ago.

You watch as Hyunjin leaves just as he arrives, covered in a simple robe to frame his perfect body. You swear you can hear faint screaming, crashes and bangs, and a faint licking of orange in the distance. He was burning the world down for you, for everything it had put you through. And frankly, you couldn't find the will to pity them.

#codn: spring24 #cultofdionysusnet #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #➸skz #topaz's work #recent

173 notes · View notes

satoruhour · 1 year

Note

🪻ugh your drabble about sore reader reminded of this one hc I think of so much that it’s embarrassing. Imagine gojo getting on sorcerer!reader’s nerves to the point that she and utahime almost have an anti-gojo hate club, and one time while bantering with him she jokes about his size or how he’s so self centred he probably can’t even make a woman cum.

Satoru only says “wanna see what I’m all about?” and safe to say she gets dicked down like there’s no tomorrow. Throughout the night he also makes fun of her for being all talk in the beginning but cumming so easily, makes her beg for it, will never let her live it down. Next day Utahime’s real pissed she lost her club’s vice chairperson.

My kitty isn’t even purring atp she’s meowing loud and crystal clear. Satoru who’s smug and a big tease in bed is so unbelievably sexy to me

a/n: discussions of incompetent dick game LMAO, oral f! receiving, fingering, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple rounds

OHHHH MY GOD YOURE SO RIGHT ACTUALLY HYACINTH ANON sorry i took so long to get to this sobs. yes yesyes id like to think sorcerer was with them before but left the scene like nanami and never truly kept in touch with the students at tokyo high. id also like to think this happens before the actual series starts (ages 24 - 25) bc gojo might still be honing his technique and theres still that playful banter at that age. god and they have a school reunion and he does some annoying crap dude.... utahime is DEFINITELY debriefing with you after that whole thing. shes by your side the whole night recalling on the stupid shit gojo did as a hs kid, when he collapsed that mansion without putting up the veil. you had to calm her down LMFAO

but at the reunion there was alcohol and you both get hiiiiigh and all things get 18+ almost immediately, talking about how gojo def cant find the clit and he fingers women wrongly and cant make any use of his dick thats probs small 😭😭😭 which is like ... you also have an inkling that he might not be that small because he is .... 2 metres tall but ya never know with how cocky gojo is. and that inkling is gone instantly when u hear him talk cause his voice is so ANNOYING and dripping with cockiness. he also has that certain lilt in his voice that you realise he uses only with you, overly teasing and silky smooth and u hate how you notice that

gojo is fucked up as well, u know he doesnt hold his liqour well but hes sober enough to ask “wanna see what im all about?” and you especially hate how you look around to see where hime is at and when u just catch a glimpse of her heading into the bathroom, youre nodding slowly and you do nooooot know what youre getting urself into !

needless to say, gojo is already getting u so hot and bothered just from a simple kiss. he warped you two back to your apartment (bc he rather die than get found out by megs and tsumiki), which he has been to before !!!!! gods even the tension back then was so palpable but gojo was in a vulnerable place with geto and everything and didnt want to do anything that would hurt his heart more. you two make out for A WHILLLEEEE and if ure wondering if hes alr so good at kissing, what else is he good at ....?

youre proven wrong time and time again when gojo goes striaght for your clit, rubbing slow circles and he has u begging for more, more something just mere rubs. gojo has the gall to lick a stripe up your soaked panties and sucks a little at your clit and god he is LOVING the way all your previous insults about him fall short of your lips and doesnt have the same punch: “still doesnt prove your dick’s b-big—” gojo lips your panties to the side and eats you out. he eats. you. out. to prove a point but also he falls in love with your pussy, slobbering all over it and shit. “didnt tell my your pussy was so good, baby.” “cat got your tongue? do i live up to your standards?”

you realise hes cocky for a reason and that his tongue game is fucking insane. the same goes for his fingers, locking eyes when he first inserts his digits in and your moan is like heaven to gojo bc he likes nothing more than to prove people wrong. and this is the best way to do it !!!! “cum on my tongue, sweetness.” oh YOU DO !!! YOU DOOOOOO

and then you think gojos done with making his statement. nah. youre so fucked out just from oral and hes smirking down at you, bringing your hands to his crotch.

“what?”

“wan’ you to open my pants yourself.”

“so it’s small?”

gojo scoffs with a smile, he already finds himself addicted to you and your taste. “no. just curious to see your surprised face.”

it gets him off every time (even after dating. and cmon dont tell me you WONT be his gf or at least his fwb after this?) you react like that, mouth open and eyes never leaving his exposed cock that he could probably slam it inside.

wee woo and once he starts to fuck you ooohhhhhhggggghhh eveyrthing you say is INCOHERENT. you try to string words together, insults and name calling here and there but it’s always interrupted by moans and whines. “you’re so— mmhfuck— insanely anno— satoru!” its words and words but none of them make sense. youre drunk on his cock. he fucks you in every position imaginable and the first time he wants to pull out bc he isnt an asshole, you're trapping him between your legs and begging him to cum inside, inside, inside WOOOOWWW HE GOES INSANE.

“i’m on the pill, s-satoru! wan’ your cum inside, please, please—”

“you’re driving me fucking c—crazy. i will, i will.”

anyway yeah you guys go multiple rounds and youre rendered speechless at every turn, surprised at yourself that even when youre spent youre sinking down on his cock and riding him yourself right after you both came. everythings sticky and gross and gojos still sensitive but hes hooked on your pussy and lets you do whatever <33

the next morning u wake up caged in his arms and hes saying something annoying again. “wanna make this a regular thing?” and you attempt to reject him, pushing him away and getting up from your bed but youre sore everrywherreeee and he swoops in just as youre about to fall. “dick too good, huh?” you roll your eyes and just let yourself be pampered by him. you spend that next day just making out and being close to each other and u wonder what to tell utahime LMFOAAOAOA

you end up getting a few missed calls after gojo had sent a selfie of you both, blanket covering your naked bodies after doing the obvious and he just chucks ur phone to the side and continues to kiss you LMAOAOAOAO. oh sigh thats such a nice scenario maybe ill write it properly one day

hello hello!

#🪻 anon #asks #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader

459 notes · View notes

gaysindistress · 3 months

Text

Cigars, Crossbows, and the Helion’s heart

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

Credits to @trashpostingforthesoulisold for the amazing fanart that inspired this all

pairings: Karlach x f!reader

Summary: based on this little blurb

Warnings: cussing, mild violence, cannon level talk of blood, death, and gore, character death

Word count: 2k

A/n: a whopping total of one person asked for a full fic and who am I to deny them? so here it is my love @dungeonsdragonsandlawyers 💕

Baldur’s Gate; a city of mischief and mayhem. A city where the law is just as corrupt as the criminals who run the streets. A city where there is no difference between good and evil because it all blends together. A city where the poor pray to a ghost, a myth, a legend, an old forgotten god some might say, to help them survive this rotting devils’ hole. A city where there is only one that can save it. Every lawman worth their salt has come to track down the Helion of the Gate but with nothing to show for it save for a few broken bones and shattered dignities. The current leader, the high and mighty lord Enver Gortash, has offered thousands in reward for the capture of the Helion. His ever increasing desperation to find this ghost has made him sloppy and a bit stupid if I’m honest. He paces back and forth in the small waiting area of my work apartment, nearly burning holes in the expensive rugs under his feet. For the better half of an hour, he’s been doing this, mumbling to himself, and completely ignoring me as if I’m a statue rather than a person. Every time I try to speak up, he shots me a deadly look and continues on with his nervous behaviors. I glance over at the clock and let out a deep sigh through my nose before pushing off of the small chaise lounge I'd been sitting on. Walking over to the little bar cart, I pour myself yet another bitter tasting drink and swallow it in one gulp. As I go to pour another, the pacing feet come to a halt and I feel his heavy eyes on my back. Enver finally speaks, “She’s visited you, hasn’t she? She’s been here, hasn’t she?” I take a moment to brace myself and take a deep breath before turning to face him. There is a wild look in his eye, too similar to that of a wolf backed into a corner for my comfort. “How would that even be possible, Enver? You have me guarded better than you do yourself I imagine. There is no earthly way that she or anyone else for that matter could get in without your knowledge.” My words don’t have the easing effect that I had hoped they would and that look has intensified to a truly terrifying level. He narrows his eyes at me before taking a deep breath of his own and looking over my shoulder through a window that overlooks the city. “When was the last time you saw her?” “That night.” “The night she tried to kill me?” While he is not looking directly at me, I know that he sees me nod my head. It’s almost more terrifying that he’s not looking at me, that he’s refusing to humanize me as he questions and accuses me. There have been few times where I have faced his wrath but now is most certainly not a time I wish to experience it. Enver is not a violent man but he is a calculated and cunning man who has no fear of consequences. He’s willing to lie, manipulate, and assassinate whoever he needs to to get what he wants. I may be in his favor for the moment but I am not so disillusioned to believe that I will stay there for long. At any moment he can decide that I am more trouble than I am worth and have me killed or do it himself. “What did she say to you that night?” “N..nothing.” My hesitation is my downfall.

“Why have you come?” I whisper while my cheek rests on her warm stomach, staring up at her. Cigar smoke floats around us, creating a veil between us and the world that wishes for her death. The smell of sweat and sex fills the pockets of space where the cigar smoke does not. Smoke spills out of her mouth as she speaks, “I wanted to see my sweet one.” She takes another drag off her cigar as she tucks her free hand behind her head and gazes down at me. “That not a good enough reason?” I chuckle at her before pressing a chaste kiss just below her belly button and move so I can see her better. I take her cigar with one hand and with the other I trail my hands up and down her side. I feel her tail flick behind us and come to rest on the small of my back. “It’s a perfectly fine reason but I fear that you are lying to me,” I tell her while I pass the cigar back. “Lying to you? Now why would you think such a thing?” “He’s growing more scared and more desperate, K. He’s growing more reckless and it’s only a matter of time before he loses it altogether. What happens then, hm? What happens when he gets to you? What happens when he hurts you or worse kills you?” Her small smirk fades into a sad smile when my words sink in. She drops her cigar into an ashtray on my side table so she can hold my face. My eyes flutter closed as her warmth engulfs my cheeks and spreads through my body. “Nothing will happen to me I promise, sweet one. Nothing will happen to you either and I will do everything in my power to make sure you stay safe.”

Everything happened so quickly. Enver had sent word that I needed to pack a bag and be ready to leave as soon as he arrived. Karlach had told me that I needed to stay in my apartment until she came and got me. My heart had told me who to listen to and my body scrambled to follow its demands as I packed as little as I could and prepared myself for the bloodbath that was about to happen on my doorstep. The familiar sound of hooves on the cobblestone alerts me that my time has run short and I duck behind that stupid chaise lounge with a crossbow in hand. Heavy footsteps pound up the staircase and there’s a brief pause before the door is kicked in. “Where are you, y/n? Come out and face me,” Enver’s humiliated and angry voice calls out. He takes a few steps towards my room and I try to shuffle around the other side of the chaise lounge but I make too much noise. He finds me within moments and looms over me as his chest heaves and blood pours from a nasty gash on his forehead. “You lied to me. You led her straight to me. You played a part in all of this,” he seethes. That hungry and desperate look has returned tenfold and now there is nothing but blood on his mind. There is no point to reason with a feral and wounded animal so I don’t even attempt. All I can do is find a way to get to my feet and get out of this apartment before he can get to me. He starts to lean down to grab my ankle but I let off a warning arrow that skims past his arm and take his moment of surprise to get up. “You little…” he growls while stalking towards me. I refuse to turn my back on him and try to feel my way towards the door. Tears have begun to prick at the corners of my eyes and that causes him to laugh sadistically. “That’s sweet; you’re crying for a dead woman to come save you and think that your little crossbow could protect you. Tell me, y/n, are your tears making it hard to see? Are you seeing double?” His taunting words strike a chord of anger within me, “I’ve got two more arrows; one for each of you I see. If I don’t hit you the first time, then I certainly will the second time, wanna take those odds, Enver?” He takes one step forward and crumbles to the ground when an arrow becomes embedded in his knee. Letting out a wail of pain, he curses at me and tries to stand but his words are cut short by an arrow in his chest.

I find Karlach fading in and out of consciousness and bleeding out on the floor in her room at the Elfsong. Upon opening the door I freeze seeing her there with one hand on the door handle and the other on the door itself, while my brain swirls before I’m able to come to my senses and close the door. All the while Karlach is slouched against her bed, taking shallow ragged breaths as the blood runs down her face and hand from the cut on her abdomen. “Hey there, sweet one,” Karlach attempts to grit out but the pain in her side is too much and forces her words to be inaudible. I rush to grab a towel and warm water from the vanity before dropping to my knees beside her. I refuse to say a word as I begin to gently wash away the blood and patch her up. I’m too afraid to speak, scared that I will burst and completely lose my compuse. Karlach is usually the talkative one between us but now she is utterly silent as she closes her eyes and tries to remain still as I work. Her closed eyes don’t allow her to see the tears welling up in my eyes or the way my breath catches when I see her wince or the way I’m taking great care to not hurt her anymore. Karlach is broken from her trance of false peace when I move away to grab her pack and begin to rummage around for the needle and thread that she keeps in it. I murmur an apology and request for her to stay silent as I begin to stitch her bigger wounds up. She hisses and groans but otherwise does as I ask. When I’m finished, I move to clean the blood from her hands. She watches me as I dip the cloth into the water and bring it back to her knuckle, gently washing away the evidence of her near death and keeping her hand tightly in mine. I press light kisses to each knuckle when I’m done and place it on top of my wrist while I start to clean the other. The silent plea to stay doesn’t go unheard and she lightly squeezes my wrist to let me know that she will. Once I’ve finished cleaning both hands I take them in mine and bring them up to my lupus as warm tears fall down my face. Karlach cups my face and draws me closer to her so that we may rest our foreheads on each other. “Thank you,” she whispers and kisses away the tears that have fallen down my face, “thank you, sweet one.” “He’s dead,” I whisper back. “You do it?” “Yeah but I don’t want to talk about it. I want to rest with you.” Karlach barely nods in agreement and lets me gently help her up, pulling her towards me and circling my arm around her waist. We walk slowly to the bed where I help her sit down and get out of her filthy clothes. She attempts to swing herself into bed but Is quickly stopped by me climbing behind her and gently brushing out the knots and tangles in her hair. My beautiful soldier leans back into my touch and allows herself to feel safe as I work to make her feel as comfortable as she can. She nearly whines when I stop and my body moves but it's not long before I’m helping her to lay down on my chest. She lays on top of my heart as her body curls around me and her tail wraps around my thigh. Her breathing starts to level and her small noises of pain begin to fade. My hands drift to hold her shoulder and play with her hair as she finds peace and relaxation in my arms. “Tell me in the morning what happened?” she murmurs in her sleepy slurred voice. “Of course, in the morning my love.” I murmur back as we wrap ourselves up in each other, creating a bond that only death would be able to break.

#karlach fanfic #karlach x reader #karlach x tav #karlach bg3 #karlach #bg3 fanart #bg3 tav #bg3 #bg3 imagine #bg3 fanfiction

66 notes · View notes

violetsaffron5 · 1 year

Text

NSFW Gojo Week (2)

Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

Pairing: Gojo x f!Reader

After a stressful week at work, Gojo invites you over to his place to blow off some steam. However, your plans for the night aren't what he expected.

cw: friends with benefits, bondage, brat taming (a little) oral, pussy rubbing, vaginal sex, creampie

words: 3.1k

Masterlist • Day 1 • Day 3

“He fucked up the veil, again.”

You whine, frustrated as you march into Satoru’s office. Ijichi has been getting on your last nerve recently. Within the last two weeks, he has missed putting up several veils and filling out his paperwork wrong.

And each of his fuck ups comes back to you to fix. It has resulted in having to stay late to fix his mistakes all because he’s your “boss.”

Satoru smirks, leaning back in his chair as you sit at the chair across from his desk with a dramatic huff.

“How is he supposed to be over budgeting and assigning missions when he can’t even do his most basic tasks the right way?”

Satoru watches you with an amused expression from under his blindfold, “You know, back in high schoo-”

“And he fucking spilled coffee on me this morning!” You grumble, accidentally cutting Satoru off, before waving your hand in the air absentmindedly at him, “Sorry, continue.”

He chuckles, leaning forward on his desk, holding his chin on his hand, “How about you come over tonight and tell me all about it?”

A smile pulls at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker down to Satoru’s lips briefly before sighing heavily, “I can’t. I have to fix the paperwork. It’s going to take me literal hours.”

“Nah. I’ll make sure Ijichi does it.”

Your brows upturn at his kind gesture, even though you’re fully aware of the ulterior motive behind his actions.

“God, thank you.” You sigh in relief, “If I don’t get my brains fucked out of me this weekend, I am going to drown Ijichi.”

“Bring this same energy tonight, I like it when you’re feisty.”

You roll your eyes because you just know that he winked at you from behind his blindfold, even if you couldn’t see it.

“So, I was thinking-” Satoru begins before being interrupted again by your phone vibrating on his desk.

With a small pout, you check the incoming message, “I have to leave. Taking Nanami to his next mission.”

You don’t miss the way Satoru’s jaw tenses slightly as he nods his head, “My place, around 7?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Before you walk out of his office, you turn to meet his gaze one last time, biting your lower lip and giving a soft, flirty smile before closing the door behind you.

You and Satoru aren’t exactly dating.

Well, you’re not together at all actually. Just casually fucking from time to time.

After work in his office. His place on the weekends. Changing the logs so you’re assigned to assist him with his out-of-town missions.

It’s all just… casual.

You met Satoru when you started working at the school as an Auxiliary Manager, helping handle day-to-day life for Principle Yaga and assisting sorcerers on their missions.

After training for several months, Ijichi decided to take a vacation, stressing that he couldn’t be around Satoru Gojo for another minute otherwise he was bound to rip out all of his hair and lose his shit.

You would have liked to see that, honestly.

You weren’t really sure why he needed a manager to assist him and drive him to his missions but you did it diligently nonetheless and you hit it off immediately, becoming instant friends.

Satoru was quick, handling the mission within a few minutes, and after, the two of you decided to go somewhere local for dinner. He told you how he likes to stress Ijichi out, and didn’t mean for you to get caught up in the fray.

You smiled at him shyly, told him you didn’t mind and that you’ve been having a better time with him than you expected, after hearing all the horror stories Ijichi had.

“Oh, yeah?” You remember him teasing with a smile, removing his blindfold to show his amused, bright azure eyes and you were pretty sure the world stopped moving at that moment. “We could keep having fun. If you want.”

You knew what he meant, you’re not naive. You saw the way his eyes flickered to your slightly parted lips and back up. He’s attractive, more so than you had ever imagined, and you were pretty sure he thought the same about you as he grinned playfully.

Biting your lip, you could feel your cheeks heat the moment you agreed, “Yeah… I’d like that.”

You were sure he was going to make a move on you that night as you stayed at a little hotel on the outskirts of Tokyo, but he didn’t. The two of you started hanging out at work and after - going out for lunch or dinner during your breaks, joking around, and watching movies.

Eventually, the benefits did start, and the benefits with Satoru are good.

Most people would think it’s because of his riches, and the penthouse apartment with a luxurious view of the Tokyo skyline and infinity pool that makes being friends with him so fun, despite his attitude.

He’s cocky, annoying, and can be downright childish at times.

But it’s actually when he’s sinking you down on his cock, and you feel like you’re being split in half by his rough thrusts that makes dealing with him and his antics worth every second.

By the time you’re able to actually leave the office and Ijichi’s clutches, Satoru had already gone home, long before you.

Satoru is quick to answer the door by the time you’ve arrived and knock gently a few times. He’s shirtless, a cocksure grin plastered on his face and in those gray sweatpants you like so much, hanging off his hip showing the sexy ‘V’ from his muscles.

It takes everything in you to smile back with a soft “hi,” kicking off your shoes at the entrance, and not immediately jump into his arms and wrap your legs around his waist.

Not that he would mind. You’ve done it before.

But you do actually want to vent to Satoru about work. He gets it and understands your frustrations. You’d talk to Shoko but she’s always so busy mending everyone’s injuries that it makes your complaints seem really not that bad in the grand scheme of things.

And Nanami… well, frankly he doesn’t give a shit because work sucks no matter where it’s at or what job you’re doing.

You watch as Satoru’s eyes trail your figure before turning around and grabbing two wine glasses from his cabinet, and grabbing the bottle the two of you were drinking from last time you came over from his fridge.

After work, you made a quick stop at home to freshen up and change into something a little easier to remove. And judging by the way Satoru’s eyes keep finding you each time he turns around, you’d venture to guess he’s a big fan of the little dress you put on.

“Did I tell you about the time,” You begin after Satoru fills your glasses, following him to the couch where you sit next to him, sipping on your wine, “Ijichi copied five hundred pages for Yaga but didn’t pay attention to the edges so none of them were aligned? And then Yaga blamed me and I had to spend my entire lunch break fixing it?”

Satoru hums as he watches you take sip after sip when you go into detail about your frustrations. Eventually, he takes the half-full glass from your hand and sets it on the coffee table in front of him before moving you to straddle his lap as you continue to complain.

“That’s crazy,” He murmurs into your neck as you feel his lips ghost around before nipping at a few spots gently.

You sigh, placing your hand on his chest and moving back slightly with a small pout, “You’re supposed to be listening to me complain until I feel better.”

“Thought you wanted me to fuck your brains out.” His eyes flicker between yours and down to your lips several times as he brushes a few strands of hair out of your face and tucks them behind your ear.

“I do, but…” You grab his hands, lacing your fingers together as span his arms along the back of the couch so he can’t touch you. He grins, watching as you giggle, struggling with the slight amount of pushback he’s giving you, “We’re friends, right? Friends listen to each other complain.”

He sighs, rolling his neck while muttering a faint “fine,” before moving his hands to your waist. He does actually listen this time as you continue talking to him, but not without rocking your hips against his ever so slightly.

“I just... I don’t understand how he became the Director,” You roll your eyes and sigh, knowing Satoru doesn’t want to spend the whole night talking about Ijichi of all things. “I feel like I just need to be in control of something for once, you know?”

Satoru grins, hands spanning your waist, letting his thumbs rub just below your breasts, “What’d you have in mind?”

“Well… There is something I’ve been wanting to try.” You bite your lip, looking at him with soft eyes, really unsure of how he’s going to take this request. “I want to tie you up.”

Satoru snorts, letting out a boisterous laugh and looking at you with the most amused expression you’ve ever seen, “Good one.”

“I’m serious. You do it to me all the time, I want to try it. Plus it’s not like you couldn’t easily get out of it if you really wanted to.”

Satoru stares at you, eyes narrowing slightly as he looks at the sincerity of your expression. His ocean-blue eyes flicker around your face, hands on your waist caging you into him.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about your time with Satoru, it’s that he has a hard time resisting when you sweet talk him while fluttering your eyelashes with big doe eyes and a slight pout on your lips.

You’re not sure if he’ll go for it, but with the number of things you’ve let him do to you, you should be allowed to have something every once in a while too.

Just to try it. Once or twice.

Maybe more, if you both like it.

“Alright.” He agrees easily with a sigh, lifting you off his lap and beckoning you to follow him to his bedroom.

“That was easier than I expected,” You mutter when he emerges from his closet with a few silky light blue ropes.

“You’ll be begging me to take control soon enough.” He’s confident, cocky, like always. “Where do you want me?”

You nod towards the bed, he smirks, undressing, his growing length giving away his excitement as he gets on his large bed.

He lays at the top of the bed, moving a few pillows under his neck to give support so he can easily watch you in action.

“Hands up.” You instruct as you climb onto the bed and straddle Satoru’s waist, still fully clothed. He smirks, crossing his wrists and holding them over his head, watching intently as you snake your lower lip between your teeth, concentrating intently on tying the knot and ensuring it’s not too tight.

You didn’t ask for it so you’re a little surprised and excited to see he’s not using his Infinity around his wrists to prevent you from actually tying him up. You’ll have to thank him for that later.

Taking the rest of the rope, you intricately tie several knots along his elbows before moving down to his shoulders, chest, abdomen, and at the base of his groin as he watches with a mischievous smile.

“Been thinking about this for a while, I see.”

“A time or two, yeah.”

Sitting back on your haunches, you admire your work. Not professional by any means, since this is the first time you’ve done anything like this. But it’ll get the job done and serve its purpose. The color of the rope Satoru chose looks great around his pale skin, and the way the ropes are tied around his biceps and abdomen makes his sinewy muscles appear so much bigger.

“Proud of yourself?” He quips when he sees a slight smile growing on your face.

You hum, looking over his neatly tied-up body before meeting his crystalline gaze, “Can I take a picture?”

Satoru frowns deeply at your requests before rolling his eyes and agreeing. Probably thinking about all the photos he has of you he has stored away on his phone.

Scooting off the bed and grabbing your phone, you snap a few photos - little keepsakes of the time Satoru fucking Gojo let you tie him up and ride him like a mechanical bull, should it be the only time he allows this to happen.

As you undress, he watches with awe and appreciation for every dip and curve of your body, and you don’t miss the way his breath hitches slightly as you slowly crawl on the bed to straddle his lap again. With a small chuckle, you place several small kisses on his lips, not letting him deepen them like he normally would.

Instead, you kiss and lick along his jaw and suck a few spots at the base of his neck before leaving littering his shoulders, chest, and abdomen with little red spots where your teeth scraped, marking him as yours.

He can easily heal these at any time, especially after you’re done tonight, but part of you hopes he doesn’t.

Your touch is feather-light, feeling every part of his warm skin, feeling and watching the way each of his muscles contracts as you move them lower on his body until you’re swiping your thumb over his hardened cock.

A smirk spreads across your lips as you look up at him through thick lashes, feeling the precum that’s already leaking from his tip. His pupils are blown, more black than blue as you lean down, licking your lips, and placing several small kitten licks on the tip and underside of his cock.

“Stop fucking teasing me,” He spits while bucking his hips, trying to force you to take his length down your throat.

“Don’t be a brat.” You stare at him with the same icy look he gives you when you whine too much. His brow quirks up and a smirk appears on his lips knowing precisely what you’re doing.

“Can’t handle five minutes with a taste of your own medicine?” You tut disapprovingly. “Pathetic”

Satoru glares at you while you grab his cock, slowly dragging your hand up and down with no intention of speeding up. And with the way he throws his head back with a frustrated huff, you can’t tell if he’s hating this or loving it.

He hasn’t tried breaking free, so you’ll go with the latter for now.

You can tell how badly he wants you, and you need it too - need that release you’ve been craving all week. So you ghost your lips around his skin as you slowly bring yourself up to his lap once again.

A soft gasp leaves your lips as you rub your slick pussy on his cock a few times, letting your neglected click rub against the head of his cock before lining yourself up, bouncing on his tip with a few short bursts.

Satoru watches intently, lips parted with pinkened cheeks waiting, surprisingly patiently, for you to slowly sink yourself down like you have so many times before.

Instead, you take him by surprise, slamming yourself down onto his hips. You both throw your heads back in pleasure while he tugs on the ropes at his wrist in an attempt to touch you.

“Fucking shit,” He groans out in a deep raspy voice.

Sucking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, you give yourself some time to adjust to being filled so completely by him. His chest rises and falls with each breath he takes as you place your hand on his knee, circling your hips against his and placing your other hand on your breast to get the stimulation you’re lacking from his hands being tied.

Usually, Satoru’s voice is deeper, more gravely, and rough with need when you’re fucking. But as he watches you squeeze your breast and pinch your nipple while moaning out so pretty as you bounce on his silky cock, he whines. A higher pitch than you’ve ever heard come from the man below you.

He’s staring at you with wide, pleading eyes. Watching where you’re connected with parted lips that are begging you not to stop.

And you don’t. Only because you might die right now if you did, with the burning sensation that’s quickly forming in the depths of your belly.

Satoru looks so pretty like this. With silk ropes that match his crystalline eyes, the soft pink blush from his cheeks has extended to the tips of his ears and down to his chest.

And god, the whimpers.

Fuck. You should have asked him if you could record this too.

One thing you learned about Satoru very early on in your friendship. He’s not an incredibly patient man. He can be, like how he displayed earlier in the night, but with your plan, you made one fatal flaw.

One he probably realized immediately, yet he let you continue on with your shenanigans. You didn’t tie his legs.

Lifting his knees, you’re forced forward, placing your hands on his chest and stomach, grabbing onto the ropes for dear life as he thrusts his hips, meeting your every bounce.

Skin slapping and moans quickly fill the room as he pistons into your hips at a relentless pace.

“So-so close,” You whine as you lean down and press your lips to his in a series of searing, sloppy kisses.

Your lips are barely moving in sync as you both concentrate on finding your releases, tongues pressed against one another and saliva connecting you both when you manage to pull away.

“Gonna- gonna fuckin’ cum, baby,” Satoru groans, “Gonna fill you up, gonna put a baby in you. You’d like that, yeah? Cause you’re mine?”

“Yes, yes, yes, fill me up, Satoru!” You chant, relenting control, despite you’re insistence on having it in the beginning, “Fill me up, make me yours.”

You both cry out, watching each other's faces contort in pleasure as your walls spasm on his cock so hard it’s like you want to keep him there forever. He can’t help the way he cums, back arching as a loud guttural groan fills the room once his seed is released into your throbbing pussy.

“God damn,” Satoru laughs, easily snapping the ropes with a flick of his wrist, pulling you into his chest. “Ijichi needs to fuck up more often.”

#jjk fanfic #violetsaffronfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #nsfwgojoweek2023

160 notes · View notes

astarionmademewriteit · 8 months

Text

Ch. 2: My Forbidden Lover

MDNI. 18+ ONLY. Blank bios will be blocked.

Enver Gortash x f!Durge (pre-tadpole)

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 3.4k

Tags: Pure smut; Oral (female receiving); Face fucking; Dom/sub dynamic; Bondage; PIV rough sex; Blood kink; Cum Play; Praise and degradation kink; Bodily harm (in a sexual context); Orgasm denial (kinda? But not exactly); Choking; Biting; Durgetash is switch-coded; Subby Gortash; Minor jealousy; Brief mention of Astarion's background with non-consentual sex; Really graphic depictions of sex.

Summary: After having come to an agreement with Astarion and plotting to kill Cazador, the dark urge goes home with her lover Gortash where they engage in filthy sex.

A/N: Please refer to the first chapter to set the scene. This is pre-tadpole days where the Dark Urge has an established relationship with Gortash and befriends Astarion while he is still in the clutches of Cazador. The story will follow her eventual amnesia and Illithid kidnapping where she will fall for Astarion, who doesn't reveal the fact that he knew her from before the Nautiloid crash.

I meant for this chapter to spill over into the next day when Durge meets up with Astarion, but I'm a simp for Durgetash and it just got away from me. Please enjoy!

Ch. 1 | AO3

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵

We walk through the brisk night air, the stars spatter the sky–holding their ancient secrets close. I hook my arm through Gortash’s as we stroll through the streets. We are sporadically approached by admirers of Enver, offering their gratitude for all he has done for the city.

“I assume our new friend was receptive to your requests?” Enver murmurs once we catch a moment alone.

“He’ll warm to the idea. He is understandably terrified of Cazador,” I stroke his broad arms, contemplating my conversation with Astarion, “I sweetened the deal. In return for information, I promised to provide him with blood and a victim for Cazador. I assume that won’t be a difficult request to fulfill.”

Enver nods, “We can supply him with a thrall. They should comply willingly,” He stops and moves to face me, “As for the blood, dear assassin?” His question does little to hide the concern underpinning his tone.

“Enver, you wound me,” I close the little distance between us, pressing my body flush against his, “I have access to plenty of blood. Why are you concerned?” I cock an eyebrow, waiting for him to confess.

He chuckles darkly, recognizing my playful banter, “I do not relish the idea of sharing you. Especially your delectable blood,” he lines the column of my throat with gentle nips at my flesh, “I would hope that was just reserved for me,” he growls.

I run my fingers through his dark hair, pulling away to look into his eyes, “You have the exclusive privilege of spilling my blood, Enver,” I place a small kiss on the corner of his mouth, “In any case, Astarion and I are kindred spirits. I recognize myself in him,” I contemplated the thinly-veiled terror that he had tried hard to mask, but I recognized it for what it was immediately. His volatile environment wrangled him into submission, and he was forced to do things that I believe he was unwilling to do–completely severed from his own autonomy.

It was similar to my condition, although I still had the freedom to make choices–choices that Astarion was completely robbed of. It was my hope that our new agreement would help him regain some of his autonomy, no matter how little–even if it was to my advantage, at least for now. I felt a small pang of guilt, wondering if he felt used in other ways instead. I would have to ask him tomorrow.

“Indeed,” Enver agrees after a moment, “But, do not lose sight of the grand design, my love. We are no heroes”

A smile plays on my lips, “If I didn’t know better Enver, I would think you were jealous,” I hook my arm through his once again and we begin our tread back to his waiting palace.

Once we are safely inside the confines of his home I rest on the edge of Enver’s desk while he writes correspondence and runs through the list of powerful targets that threaten our plans. Next on our list was the beloved Duke Ravenguard–he could be a powerful asset should we enthrall him with an Illithid tadpole. I offer to send Orin, my bloodkin, to complete the task so that we may focus on other things.

“That’s enough work for tonight, my dear,” I caress his cheek with the back of my knuckles and he watches me with a darkened expression. I lift myself from his ornate mahogany desk and move towards Enver who still sits in his chair. I turn and sit on his lap, peering over my shoulder and watching him expectantly.

He sweeps my hair to one shoulder and slowly begins to pull the zipper down the back of the evening gown I wore to Cazador’s ball–taking great care to ensure the delicate fabric does not catch in the zipper.

I stand and let the soft fabric slip from my shoulders until the garment pools at my feet. His eyes rake over my exposed body, drinking in my frame with hungry eyes. I drive the heel of one of my shoes into his chest, waiting patiently as he nimbly unbuckles the straps around my ankle. He places small kisses up the calf of my leg, nipping at my flesh–hungry to taste me.

I kick off my heel and repeat the same gesture with my other foot. He glides his hand up my calf to my inner thigh, digging the claws of his gold filigree gloves into my flesh. His hard grasp dimples my flesh until he draws blood and a sigh escapes my lips. He places small kisses along my inner thigh as he works to unbuckle my shoe.

Once I have discarded my shoe, I watch him with eager eyes as he works his way towards my upper thigh, savoring the way his lips feel as they bite and suck at my flesh–tasting my blood. I intertwine my fingers through his dark hair, willing him to focus his attention at the apex of my thighs.

His agonizing slow pace up my inner thigh has me growing impatient, “Enver,” I growl in warning, tightening my grip on his hair until a satisfied groan falls from his lips.

“Far be it from me to keep my favorite assassin waiting,” he murmurs before swiping his tongue up the seam of my dripping cunt. I instinctively pull at his hair more aggressively as he tongues and sucks at my sensitive clit. My legs immediately begin to shake as pleasure undulates through my body.

Enver repositions my leg until it is resting on his shoulder, providing him with a new devastating angle that practically sends me into a frenzy. I hold his head against my aching cunt and throw my head back as I hear his stifled breathing. “Be a good boy for me, Enver,” I growl, “You may only draw breath once I’ve been satisfied, or you can suffocate. Whichever comes first.”

He moans as he slips his tongue into my slick entrance, nosing my clit in the process. His warm tongue fucking me expertly until I’m panting uncontrollably. He hums into my pussy, sending tantalizing vibrations straight to my core.

He hooks his arm around my thigh, pulling me closer as he hungrily services me–his golden filigree claws drawing more blood as they dig deliciously into my flesh. The pain brings me such pleasure that I can feel myself building to a dizzying crescendo.

Enver continues to drag his tongue in slow concentric circles around my clit, sucking and nipping at it until I’m losing myself–spiraling into an intense climax that has me writhing underneath his tongue. I grind myself against his face–his stubble adding another layer of overwhelming sensations that has me coming undone just for him. He growls against me as I drag my sensitive cunt against his face, relishing the way I use him for my pleasure.

Once I’ve come down from my orgasm, Enver pulls away–his face gleaming with my slick. I pull him up by the collar of his robe, and we collide into a feral kiss. The taste of my arousal and the coppery aftertaste of blood fills my mouth as our tongues slide against one another.

I finger at his robes, clumsily unlacing the clothes that separate me from his flesh. He assists me in removing his clothes, our lips crashing back together with a ferocity that could buckle my knees. I push him hard until he is falling on the bed behind him, my eyes scanning his exposed flesh, devouring him completely. I circle the bed before grabbing his wrist and binding them to the bedpost with barbed wire that cuts deeply into the exposed flesh beneath his golden lattice gloves. I repeat the gesture with his other wrist, and watch as blood flows freely from his wrists–dripping down his arms in crimson rivulets. I drag my tongue up his arm, drinking in the taste of his life-essence, and ecstasy thrums through my body at his flavor.

“You taste so good, my love,” I murmur before making my way to the foot of the bed and crawling up his body until I’m straddling his waist.

“It’s all for you, my assassin,” he croaks, his voice gravelly and thick with lust.

I drag my nose up his throat, sucking and kissing at his salty skin. I sink my teeth into the soft flesh where his neck meets his broad shoulders, and Enver cries out in pleasure as blood rushes to the surface. I can practically hear his heart beating against his ribcage as blood fills my mouth–his wrists pulled taut against his restraints, causing more blood to flow freely from his veins.

“I love when you bleed for me, Enver,” I growl into his ear. His heavy panting rings like music through the bedroom, and I savor the way his body writhes impatiently beneath me, “You’re doing so well,” I praise, which only spurs his need to be inside me.

“Please,” he whispers, begging to feel my cunt wrapped around his leaking cock.

“Oh, Enver,” I whisper seductively, cupping his face with my hand, “How I love to watch you squirm.” I line myself up with his throbbing cock, already leaking with pre-cum.

His swollen head immediately stretches me wide open, and I cannot stop the moan that falls from my lips as he fills me completely. Enver whimpers beneath me as my pussy slides down his length at an agonizingly slow pace until I am sitting flush against him. I clench around him instinctively, forcing another moan to escape his lips.

I lean over and crush my lips to his as I begin to rock my hips seductively against him. I bite hard into his lip, drawing more of his sensational blood–relishing the coppery taste as it fills my senses completely. My nails dig into his hairy chest and welts immediately begin to form, marking him as mine.

I lift myself up and begin riding him slowly, savoring the way his cock spears into me–threatening to split me in two. I clench my pussy around his length every time his cock withdraws from me, effectively massaging his swollen head.

“Gods below,” he moans underneath me, “You’re so perfect, my dear assassin.” He instinctively bucks his hips, brushing against my cervix and causing me to cry out in shock. He drags his cock slowly out of me before forcefully thrusting back inside, hitting my sweet spot with agonizing precision. The barbed wire confining his wrists continues to pull blood from his flesh, painting him like a beautiful masterpiece.

I lean back, propping myself on his thighs as I continue to ride him relentlessly–allowing him to watch as he pierces me with his throbbing member. My arousal rings like a symphony throughout the room, only spurring me to ride him harder. My nails dig into his thighs, bringing more blood to the surface. I watch as his body slowly trickles with blood and images of our own demise flit through my mind.

I knew I wanted to keep him until fate intervened and I was forced to kill him and myself in Bhaal’s name. It would be incredibly beautiful, slicing his flesh open until he had been drained of blood completely. I would die a beautiful death next to my lover–and I would be free of the carnage I was meant to exact on this world. And it would all be by his side.

As the images flit through my mind, my desperation becomes more prominent. I can feel myself nearing the edge of no return. My body begins to quiver as he continues to meet me thrust for thrust until I am exploding into a tantalizing climax–falling over the edge into a depth of pleasure that I could only ever experience with Enver.

His name falls from my lips and echoes throughout the room like a haunted hymn as he coaxes the pleasure from my body. Enver’s breathing becomes ragged and I can tell he is chasing his own release. I cannot help the sadistic tendencies that wash through my body in moments like these.

I wrap a shaky hand around his throat as I continue to ride him with newfound ferocity born from my own ecstasy. He watches me with a dark expression as he nears his own climax, biting at his bruised bottom lip as I apply pressure to his throat, cutting off his blood flow momentarily.

His eyes roll into the back of his head and a dangerous smirk plays on my lips when I think about how desperate he sounds. Just when he is on the verge of climax, I pull myself off him completely and watch as thick ropes of cum spill from him and onto his stomach. He bucks his hips desperately searching for any kind of friction that will ride him through his climax–to no avail.

I release my grip from his neck and he eyes me with unfiltered frustration when he realizes the game I’m playing. His wrists are pulled taut against the barbed wire–the metal digging into his flesh as he struggles against them, desperate for some satisfaction as his hollow orgasm washes through him.

He lets out an animalistic growl as I remove myself from the bed, a dark grin gracing my features as I watch him struggle. “Oh, Enver,” I chuckle sadistically, “You never learn, do you?” I inch towards a bar cart and pick up an expensive decanter, leisurely pouring myself a glass of rich dark liquor. I seat myself in his chair, and watch as he grows more desperate by the minute.

“Please, my love,” he eyes me with wild anguish, pulling against his restraints harder than before–ignoring the stinging pain that travels through his arms. I cross my legs and lean back, taking another sip of the strong liquor. It burns my throat as it goes down, and the satisfaction I feel as I watch him squirm is delectable. My body welcomes the warmth of a roaring fire nearby and I sit and watch as he fights against his restraints–admiring the way his crimson blood paints his flesh.

“Gods, you look so pathetic, Enver,” I chuckle, “It’s utterly adorable.” I throw back the rest of the liquor–it’s rich burn soothing my throat and it’s warmth washing through my body completely.

Enver has settled down slightly, but I can tell he has found no satisfaction in his climax–just as I had hoped. “My beloved assassin, this hardly seems fair,” he grumbles–his voice perfectly diplomatic.

“When have you known me to play fair, my love,” I shoot back playfully, gripping the arms of the chair, “Besides, I’ve decided that you haven’t begged nearly enough for my liking.”

He glares at me from the bed, and a satisfied smile pulls at my lips as I wait patiently for him to convince me that he deserves his own fulfillment. Plea after plea begins to spill from his lips, his body continuing to fight against his restraints as he grows more and more desperate. I tap my foot impatiently as he continues to beg.

It isn’t until a tear of frustration falls from his eye do I stand, effectively quieting his supplications as he watches me closely. I move to the foot of the bed and crawl over him once again, and I can hear as his breath catches in the back of his throat. I drag my tongue across his stomach, licking up his spent–savoring its unique taste. I smack my lips when I’m done and note that Enver is hard once again as he watches me clean up the mess he made.

I pull away from the bed and move to release him from his restraints–kissing his wrists and sucking the blood that paints his skin in a rich crimson. I repeat the gesture once again with his other wrist. As soon as he is free from his constraints, he charges forward, pouncing on me like a wild, untamed animal.

“My turn,” Enver growls in my ear as he tangles his rough fingers into my hair and pulls back hard until I’m looking up at his looming form. He forces me across the room and throws me into the edge of his desk, the hard wood digging into my hips deliciously.

I whimper under his hardened touch as he bends me over his desk and presses my face into the desk with aggressive strength. He forces himself inside me without a moment to lose, desperate to feel my wet cunt wrap around his cock once again.

He begins a punishing pace, rutting his hips into me with unrelenting force that causes uncontrolled moans to fall from my lips. He places a large, rough hand on my waist and forces me down, causing me to arch my back until he is hitting my sensitive spot over and over again.

The force with which he fucks me into his desk causes papers to fall from the table top–teetering to the floor. Ink splatters across his desk as it tips over with every thrust. My cries rip through the air as he spears himself into me, allowing his frustrations to spill over into his movements.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he growls as he slams into me–the desk digging painfully into my flesh with every cant of his hips. I dig my nails into the desk, trying to steady myself, but it is useless as he continues to abuse my dripping pussy.

The force of his hips slamming into me sends me over the edge once again and I cry out with unfiltered ecstasy as I fall from grace–my orgasm rocking through my body causing my cunt to spasm wildly around his length.

“There you go, my dear assassin,” He growls, “Just like that, baby.” He talks me through my climax, and the rush of adrenaline courses through my body as his claws dig into my flesh, bringing blood to the surface.

I whine underneath him as he uses me for his own pleasure–our roles effectively reversed in a matter of minutes. His breath grows ragged as he watches his arousal spear into me over and over again with such force that I fear the desk will tip over.

Once I’ve recovered from my orgasm, I feel his thrusts becoming sloppier as he chases his own, deserved release. “Cum for me, Enver,” I beg as his breath grows heavy with ecstasy. He thrusts into me violently a few more times before he is spilling into me–his cock spasming wildly inside me as he cries out my name. He whimpers out a string of expletives as he is awarded with his own pleasure.

He leans over me, his body flush against mine as he continues to fuck through his orgasm–savoring the feeling he was so cruelly denied just minutes earlier. I moan loudly, his name falling from my lips like a prayer of devotion until he finally stills inside me.

We catch our breath, neither of us daring to move until we have regained our strength. Enver chuckles darkly above me before pulling out of me completely. I whine at his sudden absence but gather myself as much as possible. I will my shaky legs to move back to the bar cart and pour us both a drink while Enver rests in his chair, sweat dripping down his dark features.

I offer him a glass before curling into his lap and nuzzling into his shoulder, noting the dried blood streaks that mar his body. I bite back a satisfied smile as I replay the events of tonight in my mind.

After a moment, Enver sighs, “We have made a mess of things, my dear,” he ruffles my hair with a rough hand before chuckling under his breath. “I think a warm bath is in order.” I nod my head in agreement, suddenly too tired to speak. “We have a great many things to accomplish tomorrow, my lovely assassin.” He throws back his drink and polishes off his glass in a few large gulps.

I wrap an arm around his waist as I continue to nurse my drink–memorizing the way his body feels against mine. I laugh to myself, realizing that I could never forget how his body feels against mine. I turn my thoughts to what lies ahead, already calculating more plans for the grand design.

I couldn't imagine doing this without him–My forbidden lover.

86 notes · View notes