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nanaslutt · 8 months

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Rivalry

synopsis: Geto and Gojo learn to share (you)

cont: fem reader, they're all 'friends', masturbation, oral (they eat you out together), making out (satosugu), competitiveness, arguing, teasing, dirty talk, choking, hand jobs, so much sexual tension it hurts

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Satoru jabs his shoulder into Suguru's not acknowledging it as he pulled your thigh over his shoulder harder, bringing your cunt more towards him. Geto felt the vein in his forehead pop out as he tsked loudly, repeating the same action Gojo had just done to him, his warm fingers digging into your other thigh as he tried and failed to pull you more towards him thanks to Satoru's iron grip.

The duo continued giving each other painfully obvious side eyes and noises of disgust at the other. "Hey... hey- hey!!" You snapped, snapping the men out of their childish fight as their heads turned to face yours. You propped your arms behind you on the bed, looking down at them with a scowel. "Stop fucking fights, you assholes are stretching my legs too much I can feel my ligaments ripping." You said dramatically.

Your legs were spread so far apart to accommodate both obnoxiously wide and built men, you were already struggling enough, and now they were trying to pull you apart like some dog toy. "It seems like you two are more interested in yourselves than me. Maybe this wasn't a good idea." You said with a scowl, ready to end this before it even started.

"No! no, no, we'll behave." Gojo said quickly, panic evident in his tone as he took your words seriously. "Won't we, Suguru?" The white-haired man looked over at the man next to him with a faux smile plastered on his face. Suguru's lip twitched as he forced his own smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Right, sorry pretty." He replied, pursing his lips at his best friend before he directed his eyes at you once more, his expression immediately softening.

"Yeah?" You asked, raising your eyebrows as you looked between the two of them. "You mean it? You really won't fight anymore?" You continued, a hint of malicious intent behind your tone. The boys must've picked up on it because neither of them dared to move, their faces void of emotion as they looked at you expectantly, knowing something else was coming.

"Then kiss."

It was cartoonish the way their jaws dropped in tandem, they stayed silent as they waited for you to say 'just kidding', but it never came. "What? If you're so friendly now, what's a little kiss, hm?" You said, trying to hold back your laughter at their expressions, "Unless..." You continued, your voice tone changing to one laced with faux uncertainty, "...you guys lied? You're going to keep fighting huh? Might as well end this now in that case-" Your words got caught in your throat as Gojo turned his head toward Geto and grabbed his neck harshly, forcing their faces together as he kissed him harshly.

"Oh~" You cooed, your eyebrows raising at the unexpected action. Truthfully, you were only teasing them, but you guessed they were taking this more seriously than you thought, just how bad did they want you? "Mmm!" Geto moaned against his best friend's lips in surprise as he stilled, his lips not moving against Gojo's as he did all the work, slotting his lips against Geto's.

Suguru's hand gripped Gojo's wrist in a warning as the white-haired man's fingers dug into the sides of his neck dominatingly. There was no way Geto was going to let Satoru take charge like this. You felt yourself throb between your legs when Geto released Gojo's hand and took his slender neck in his the same way Gojo was doing to him. When he squeezed, a choked moan was released from Gojo's lips into the kiss.

He had expected Geto to fight back, but he didn't expect him to be so rough. Geto started moving his mouth against Gojo's, trying to gain control. The two of them were quite literally fighting with their lips. The kiss was full of teeth, tongue, and spit as the growled agaisnt the other's lips. Saliva was dripping down Gojo's chin from how harshly Geto was licking into his mouth as he fought Gojo's tongue for dominance.

But the stubborn blue-eyed man wasn't one to back down from a fight. He tried to ignore the throbbing he felt in his boxers as he choked Geto out while he tongued his mouth, trying to stick his tongue down the other's throat. Their eyes stayed open for the most part as they looked into the eyes of the other challengingly, only fluttering shut briefly when one squeezed the other's neck, they must both be sensitive there.

"Okay, okay. I think you guys have proved yourselves." You giggled, interrupting their kiss. They detached their lips from the other at the sound of your voice, almost like they were in a daze and your voice was the key that set them free. Both men breathed heavily with red faces and lidded eyes as they looked at the other. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" You asked, trying to ignore the intense throbbing you felt between your thighs so you could tease them a little more.

Geto released his hand from Gojo's neck, making the other follow suit before he looked between your legs and noticed a drop of your slick was sliding down your inner thigh. Suguru smirked as he wiped up the trail of your arousal before he wiped his finger through your folds, making your body jolt in surprise as he smeared the wetness agaisnt your clit, "Yeah... guess you liked it too, huh?" He asked, smirking as he slowly rubbed your little bud with his pointer finger.

Gojo couldn't ignore the throbbing he felt between his thighs any longer as he watched Geto rub your swollen clit. He started grinding his hips into the sheets for some relief as he gripped your thigh over his shoulder for support, taking in the sight in front of him greedily.

"H-hey... I didn't say you could touch me yet." You spoke softly, trying to keep your voice steady as you spoke, the task proving incredibly difficult from Geto's light teasing touch. "No?" he replied, it was his turn to tease you now. "But you're begging for it down here, should I just ignore what she wants? That doesn't seem very nice." Geto spoke, referring to your cunt like it was a person.

You stayed silent, trying to hold your moans and whines back from his ministrations. "Cmon Satoru, back me up." He said, surprising the man on his left. That kiss really had done wonders, just earlier they were fighting about who got to be closer to your cunt and now they were working together to touch you? In your heart, you knew this comradery wouldn't last long, but it was nice to see if only for a little bit.

Satoru didn't even look Suguru's way, instead, his eyes stayed zeroed in on your pussy as he reached out and used his index and middle fingers to drag through your folds near the entrance of your pussy and scoop up some of your wetness there while Geto rubbed your clit. "Oh fuck... you're right, that kiss did more for you than it did for us, huh?" Gojo teased, rubbing circles around your tight entrance teasingly, making you think he might slip his fingers in at any moment.

Satoru looked towards the man next to him when he laughed incredulously, clearly not a sound that was backing up his previous words, no, this laugh was directed at him. "Don't play coy, I saw how you were rutting your hips against the bed. Kissing me got your dick all stiff huh?" Geto teased, laughing at his best friend. Gojo tsked, his lips curling in a snarl. He was right though, although it wasn't all from the kiss, Gojo couldn't deny that the little interaction they shared had made him horny, maybe even made him leak in his boxers a little.

"Look who's acting all high and mighty when you're as hard as I am right now. Your lucky your laying on your stomach, I bet your boner is so fucking obvious through those thin-ass shorts." Gojo shot back, both the men's fingers on your pussy pausing as they started arguing once more. You sighed, you knew they wouldn't be able to get along for longer than five minutes.

"Do you want to kiss again?" You asked, your words immediately ceasing all arguing between the boys. Honestly, they both didn't mind the kiss, they could both agree internally the other was a good kisser and they were pretty easy on the eyes, but they would rather die than admit that out loud, hence why their big egos made them shut their mouth when you threatened them with a kiss.

"Really? You hated it that much?" You giggled, shaking your head at their childishness. "So I guess you would really hate touching each other too, right?" Your words sent chills down their spine, but not in a negative way, in a pleasant way, which shocked them both. They had pecked on the lips as high schoolers teasingly and jerked off in the same room while watching porn together once or twice, but they had never dared to cross that line.

Their silence spoke volumes, you watched their eyes dart around the room as their faces scrunched in embarrassment. You decided to give them a break, not wanting to push them too hard, but you weren't going to give up on this so easily. "Relax, it was just a question." You said, easing the tension that had filled up the room.

"It's not nice to tease people you know," Gojo replied, leaning in to press a kiss to your inner thigh, his hair tickling your skin. You gasped quietly in surprise, your body squirming against the sheets as he continued pressing kisses against you. "A-all you do is tease people Satoru." You replied before Geto could, effectively stopping yet another argument. Geto smirked when you took the words right out of his mouth.

"I'm older than you, you should treat your elders with respect. Picking on you builds character." He replied, making you snort. 'Elders', he wasn't even that much older than you. You were about to respond when you felt his lips kiss your pussy, right against your folds below your throbbing clit. "Did that feel good?" He asked, repeating the action, making your hands fall into his hair, carding through the strands.

Looking over to Geto you noticed his face looked more relaxed than he did seconds ago. His eyes were more lidded and his mouth was slightly open in a small o as he watched Gojo kiss your pussy, not yet using his tongue against you. It was only when you noticed his shoulder moving up and down that you realized why he looked so flushed, he was touching himself. He swallowed hard before biting his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes briefly closing as he palmed himself over his shorts for some relief.

"Suguru... I want you to touch me too." You replied. It was so obvious he wanted to join in but didn't really know where to fit in. He was practically salivating as he watched Gojo kiss where he wanted to put his own lips. He looked up at you and gave you a lazy smile, one that made your heart skip in your chest. "Yeah? Want me to lick your pussy?" He asked, starting to lean his head closer to where you needed him.

"Hey, there's no room for you down here, go somewhere else," Gojo responded, dragging his lips down your thighs on Geto's side to emphasize his words. "Make room then," Geto responded, knocking his head against Gojo's as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your inner thigh where Gojo just did. In his head, he was erasing Gojo's kisses, such a childish thought.

You abandoned one of your hands on Gojo's head to rest on Geto's, digging your fingers into his hair. "P-please... do something." You begged, your voice coming out needier than you were expecting. "Ohh? Were you just telling me how you didn't give me permission to touch you? Are you giving me permission now?" Gojo asked, trying to make your words all about him.

You dug your fingers deeper into his hair, you felt your annoyance much stronger with how aroused you were, you weren't in the mood to be teased by him anymore. "Yes, fuck, both of you. C'mon, hurry." You instructed, pushing both of their heads towards where you needed them the most.

The two men were so absorbed in their own little world with you that they bumped heads when they both tried to lick your clit at the same time. "Fuck, Satoru moves your head, I wanna suck her clit." Geto growled, knocking his head against his once more, on purpose this time. "No, you move, that's what I was going to do." Gojo shot back, his face flushed with his arousal and need to touch you.

You sighed, staying quiet this time as you wanted to see where this fight took them. Maybe they were able to figure something out without your interference, but if they couldn't, you would have to step in and fix their attitudes.

"You're so annoying, get your own ideas," Geto responded, shoving Gojo's head harshly against your thigh, successfully pushing him out of the way so he could latch onto your clit. You gasped when you felt the plushness of his lips around your neglected bud, your back arching at the stimulation. Gojo snarled as he watched Geto get the first real taste of you, but he couldn't deny the harsh twitch of his cock in his boxers when he caught a glimpse of Geto's soft tongue poking out between his lip as he caressed your clit with it.

Gojo decided he was going to do what he wanted to do anyway, and in the process, make Geto so uncomfortable that he let Gojo take his current place in sucking your clit. His next actions had your pussy clenching around nothing. Gojo leaned in and tilted his head at an angle before sticking his tongue out and forcing his tongue under Geto's to poke at your clit.

Geto had felt Gojo's soft hair tickle the side of his face when he leaned in, but he figured the man was going to suck you lower or tongue fuck you, not make out with him while trying to lick your clit. Surugu's eyes cracked open in disbelief but not once did he cease his tongue's movements agaisnt you. Gojo moaned against your pussy with a smile on his face as he rubbed your clit with his soft tongue.

"O-oh fuck" You moaned, your back arching and legs threatening to snap in on their heads as they ate you out together. Geto's first instinct was to fight Gojo with his tongue but he realized that might hurt you in the process, and this was about making you feel good, not about his own personal grievances.

Sighing, he tilted his head at an angle like Gojo's and released his lips from around your clit, opting to just stick his tongue out and bat the little bud with his tongue. Gojo huffed out a laugh at Geto's compromise, feeling like he had one somehow, even though he was doing the same thing Geto was.

"K-keep doing that!" You praised, realizing the men had calmed down a bit and were now slowly starting to figure out that working together can be better than working alone. "F-feels so good when you g-guys do that." Your head tipped back against the sheets as you whined their names freely, your nails digging against both of their scalps.

The longer they ran their tongues over your folds and occasionally licked each other, the more the tension dissipated and turned into a more carnal sense of need for pleasure. Gojo started trying to intentionally follow where Geto's tongue was, not only to increase the pleasure you were feeling but because it felt good to touch his tongue to Geto's. It felt forbidden, which made his whole body feel hot.

Geto quickly caught on. At first, they were licking at your clit together, then they fell into a sort of rhythm where one of them tongued near your entrance while the other licked your clit, alternating like that. But now, they were trying to be in the same place at once, and it was heightening Geto's sensitivity.

The way no one was saying anything about it either made them feel even hotter like they were pretending nothing weird was happening. "I'm so hard." Gojo mumbled needily into your pussy, getting a coo of his name from you followed by a "Touch yourself for me." And touch himself he did.

Geto had paused on touching himself when he started licking you, focusing more on what his tongue was doing than his hand. Once he watched Gojo sneak his hand under his body to jerk himself off in the tight space of his crotch being pressed against the bed, he started rubbing himself too. He had pushed his own arousal to the side, but from the taste of your cunt, your noises, and the constant push and pull from Gojo, he could no longer contain himself once Gojo stopped holding back.

"Mmm... fuck... I- I wanna fuck you so bad." Gojo whined against you, his voice sending vibrations through your pussy. Geto's face heat up at Gojo's words. He slowly slipped his fingers past the waistband of his shorts and boxers when his arousal grew too much. Suguru always was a whore for dirty talk. "Y-your fingers, fuck me with your fingers-" You cried, humping your hips towards their faces.

When Gojo detached his lips from your pussy to get a good look at your tight little hole, Geto took the opportunity to suckle your clit back into his mouth now that he had it all to himself. "So sweet, so fucking sweet." He mumbled, squeezing his hand around his cock harder when he felt your little bud throb in his mouth. Gojo bit his lip and quickened his strokes on himself as he started humping his hand like a fleshlight, the slide eased by how wet he was from all the pre-cum he had been leaking.

"Geto stop for a second, I can't see," Gojo said, his voice abandoned of any real malice and instead replaced with raw need. Geto obliged, pulling his lips away from you begrudgingly, he parted your folds with his fingers for Gojo while the white-haired man rubbed two thick fingers agaisnt your tight entrance, teasing you. "You're being so nice to me now." Gojo giggled, looking over at his best friend who was holding you open for him.

"Shut up and finger her so I can go back to eating her out." Geto deflected, ignoring the fact that Gojo was right, he was becoming too pussydrunk to fight with Gojo like before. Gojo giggled as he started to press his fingers into you, breaching your tight hole. "Satoru!!" You cried, making him bite his lip as he penetrated you fully, his fingers sliding inside you to the hilt with ease thanks to your wetness.

"You're so fucking tight baby... fuckkk I can only imagine how well this pretty pussy takes cock." He fantasized, making his own, and Geto's cock twitch at the mental image. With lidded eyes, Gojo started slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of you before he looked to Geto, "Go ahead, she's all yours." he said with a smirk.

Geto wasted no time in sucking your clit back into his mouth, shaking his head agaisnt you as he abused you little bud. Your head was going fuzzy, the way Gojo was curling his fingers into your gspot was making you cant your hips against Geto's mouth, forcing his tongue to rub you harder. "W-wait, wait, I think I'm gonna cum-" You cried, your arms shaking from the intensity of the building orgasm.

"Yeahhh? Gonna cum all over my fingers? Let Suguru lick up your cum?" He cooed, smirking at you. Gojo's cock throbbed against the sheets when he released his hand from his cock and placed it over yours atop Geto's head, shoving him harder into your cunt. Geto moaned in surprise but internally groaned as he knew Gojo was most definitely smearing his precum all over his pretty hair.

"C'monn, you're doing the heavy lifting here," Gojo spoke to Geto who was now furiously sucking your clit, alternating between the latter motion and flattening his tongue against you and rubbing back and forth. Each time his tongue accidentally touched the base of Gojo's fingers when he pulled them out of you, and he got a taste of your wetness from the inside, his eyes rolling back in his head. How was it possible for someone to taste so sweet?

"Shit- wait- fuck I'm r-really cumming-" You cried, feeling a ball of something more intense well up in your tummy. Your words made Geto groan loudly against you, the sound coming out muffled from how hard he was pressed agaisnt you. Geto was focusing more on his tip now as he tried to bring himself to the brink of orgasm with you, but the tight space in which he was pressed against the sheets was making it hard for him to get the proper stimulation.

"Let it out, we got you baby we got you." Gojo cooed, speaking for the both of them as you rode Geto's face and his fingers. Gojo's jaw dropped with your own as your body stilled and you came. Only this wasn't like one of your regular orgasms. A warm feeling spread throughout your whole body as you came, the tight bundle in your tummy had snapped and you squirted all over Geto's hungry tongue.

Gojo moaned loudly as he fingerfucked you through your orgasm, groaning through his teeth. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head as he opened his mouth and tried to drink up as much of your wetness as he could. You could barely hear Gojo's whistle as your orgasm clouded all of your senses. You shook and writhed agaisnt the sheets as the boys worked you through possibly one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever had.

"O-oh-" Your stomach clenched and your body jerked in on yourself as your orgasm ended and you were thrown into overstimulation when Geto continued eating you out, too pussydrunk on you to realize you had already finished. "Easyyy~" Gojo said softly, gripping Geto's hair harshly as he yanked him up and away from you. The man was breathing heavily, his face flushed red and covered with your cum as he was pulled away.

The bed sheets and your thighs were stained wet with your cum. You had no time to be embarrassed though as the only thing on your mind was getting the boys to cum too. "C-come here." You said softly, releasing their head simultaneously and nodding at them to get closer. Gojo moved quicker than Geto, who seemed to still be in a daze as they rose from their place between your thighs, your legs falling against the bed limply.

Once they were both sitting on their heels by your chest, looking at you expectantly, you stuck out your hands in an O shape. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what you were wanting from them. You gave both men a fucked out smile as they hastily worked on pulling their erect cocks out of their pants. Geto held his cock out over your chest, stroking it slowly as he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and an open mouth, it clearly wasn't going to take much to get him to cum.

Looking over at Gojo, he was already fitting his cock in your weak O-shaped hand, waiting for you to jerk him off. "C'mon... you wanna touch us right?" He asked, trying to mask his need with that teasing voice of his. You smiled softly before you took both of their cocks in your soft hands and began stroking them off together, keeping the same pace and speed for both of them.

"H-hahh..." Both of their moans were mingling and tangling together, you couldn't tell who's belonged to whom. Geto was staring at your hand in a trance as you jerked him off. His mouth fluttered open like a fish out of water, his breathing coming out stuttered and uneven, you knew he was close. Gojo on the other hand, was entranced with the slick that was dripping down Geto's chin.

He licked his lips before he made a split-second decision to taste it. They had already crossed so many unspoken boundaries today, what was one more? Leaning forward, Gojo placed his hand on the back of Geto's neck and pulled his unsuspecting face toward him. Suguru's breath caught in his lungs when he felt Gojo's tongue collect the cum from his neck and chin, the white-haired man making a path from the bottom of his face to his lips, before he connected them together like before, this time of their own volition.

"Fuck.." You cursed, your face heating up as you watched the men's tongues tangle with each other. "You guys are so fucking hot." Geto groaned at your words, both of his hands wrapping around the back of Gojo's neck as he kept him against his face, relishing in how good his best friend's tongue felt against his. "I'm so close baby, keep going- f-fuck." Gojo groaned against Geto's lips, his fingers caressing the other's neck harder as his orgasm approached.

The sounds coming from their lips were so vulgar, combined with their desperate moans it was making your cunt throb. "God... m-my tip, focus on my tip," Geto instructed, starting to thrust his hips into your hand, aiding you in pleasuring him. "Your tip is sensitive?" Gojo asked, pulling away from Geto's lips to whisper against them. "I remember that when we jerked off before, you didn't notice it but I was watching you. Watching how squirmy you got when you touched yourself there." Gojo teased, working Geto up with his words.

"Ohooo, this is interesting." You giggled, feeling the men drip steady streams of pre-cum over your hand, making the vulgar squelching noises echo louder in the room. "S-shut the fuck up, S-Satoru-" Gojo spit back, averting his eyes from his bestfriend. Gojo let Geto pull his head back, their hands dropping from each other as they became seconds from cumming.

"God... god your hand feels so good princess, I-I'm gonna cum-" Geto whined, his eyes finding yours as his face scrunched in pleasure. "Cum for me Suguru, wanna watch you when you cum." You replied, making him groan loudly as his cock throbbed in your hand. "Heyyy~ You're making me feel left out," Gojo whined childishly, his hands wrapped around your smaller one that held his cock before he started thrusting into it, squeezing your hand tighter around him.

You looked over at him and shook your head as if the two men didn't just make out on top of you while you jerked them off. Your gaze was swiftly corrected by Geto's hand that gripped your chin, making you look at him. "S-said you wanted to watch me cum." He moaned, his voice breathy and high-pitched. "W-watch- f-fuck fuck fuck-" Long hot ropes of cum spilled from his cock and all over your chest, which was covered by one of Gojo's old band tee's. Something told you after today though, he wouldn't mind his shirt covered in Geto's cum.

"Good boy, fuck. You're so pretty Suguru." You praised, keeping your eyes on his face as his eyes squeezed shut and his orgasm wracked through his body, his abs clenching and his body spasming with his high. The only warning you got from Gojo was an obnoxiously loud moan before he was cumming. He grit curses through his teeth as he used your hand to milk his cock.

His cum was thinner than Geto's, but there was more of it, and his cum shot further when most of Geto's just spilled over your fingers. Geto groaned in annoyance when a rope of Satoru's cum landed on his thigh as Suguru twitched in the aftershocks of his orgasm. "So tighttt~" Gojo moaned, smiling through his orgasm as he squeezed his hands tighter over yours, almost painfully so.

"Ugh... fucking gross, you got your cum all over me Satoru." Were the first words spilling from Geto's mouth when he fully came down. Gojo wrung out his cock using your fist as he pulled it out of the makeshift pussy, making sure he gave you all of his cum. "Oh shut up, just grab a tissue you big baby." Gojo spat back, leaving his softening cock hanging out as he laid down beside you, putting his arm behind you, against the pillow you were laying on.

"No, you get me a tissue." He spat back, laying on your other side as he leaned slightly over your body to curse at the man next to you, his arm siding under your shoulders as he squinted at Gojo. "Hah???? I'm not your maid, get it yourself." Gojo retorted, looking at the man incredulously. You gave up on looking between them or trying to stop them for that matter.

You just layed there comfortably, your smaller body being squished and smothered by two large men who fought for your touch while simultaneously screaming at each other over a cum rag. You heaved a dramatic sigh, which both of them failed to catch, of course. You thought a little intimate time would bring them closer together but clearly, you were wrong.

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Bonus: At some point, Geto gave in and went to the bathroom to grab Gojo a tissue, leaving Gojo to take the opportunity to grab your body and pull you on top of him, wrapping his arms and legs around you like a koala. You shook your head, sighing as you knew this would only lead to another fight. When Geto stepped into the room once more, he was met by an annoyingly smug, Gojo face, making his vein pop out on his forehead. "Oh, you bitch." He growled, marching toward the bed.

You ended up falling asleep that night quite literally crushed between two large, muscly, hot, sweaty men. If you didn't die overnight from axphixiation, that would be a miracle. Honestly, though, you were just glad they had stopped fighting, so if that meant you had to die by suffocation? So be it.

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explicit-tae · 7 months

Note

i seen you did a request so i as wondering can i request something? 🥹

jk x reader where the reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend and she gets her lick back 💜 love your stories!

I'm sure I can do something quick 💜

Lick Back

Realizing that your boyfriend has become a completely different person & being malicious towards you could only mean that he’s being nice to someone else.

Word Count:4.298

Warning: dry humping, kissing, neck kissing/sucking, dirty talking, nipple pinching, praising, affair/cheating, oral sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, slight voyeurism, teasing/taunting, squirting,

Your mother always told you that if your dog started barking at you that it only meant that someone else was feeding it. A dog would never bite the hand that feeds them.

Your mother wasn’t talking about an actual dog.

However, you had a dog - in a way - and recently, it began doing just that. It became annoyed with you for every little thing you’ve done. It’s tone changed completely when speaking with you; always rushed and not attentive. It started to be mean for no reason, nearly foaming at the mouth when you questioned their sudden change of actions - or questioned it at all. It wanted to be outside longer than usually and would be upset when called back home.

The dog being your boyfriend of nearly 5 years. You noticed the shift a year ago, but you ignored your gut feeling of something being terribly wrong - but now, you are numb and though it hurts in a way, you are also relieved. The love that was one there in your relationship appeared to expire without you realizing it - or maybe you had not wished to accept it.

And yet, here you are in a home the both of you share. He is out, not bothering to tell you just where he’s at - and you don’t ask. You stopped asking a year ago when you grew accustomed to sleeping alone.

But even if the love for your dog is no longer there - and if it was, it was slowly drifting away - that didn’t mean the anger wasn’t. The fact that you allowed the dog to stay with you because you loved him, fed said dog his favorite meals and showered him with love and affections. They were supposed to be loyal - but atlas, someone else had gained its love while you were left in the dark.

But there was someone else who liked what the dog had, you noticed. Someone who appreciated the meals you cooked and ate them with ease, who would come when you called them. They were loyal - even more than your own dog - and it just happened to be the dogs friend.

Jeon Jungkook is an attractive man and he knew it. It showed in the way he struts, shoulders lax and head held high. He almost wore a smirk, but never a cocky one. Jeon Jungkook could be an asshole - a complete fuckboy. He could turn his nose at anyone because he had it like that - but he didn’t.

Jeon Jungkook was a kind individual. He was caring - especially to the ones he was close with. You recall many times when you’d had to call him because your boyfriend had gotten so drunk that you’d need a man's help - and Jungkook was always that man.

And even though Jungkook was a friend of your boyfriend, he was kind to you, as well. He changed your tires on numerous occasions, making sure to give you the speech that “You need to make sure you keep up with your car, Y/N.” or the “Your oil and tire lights are on, how do you even drive this still?” he had good intentions.

“This is so good!” Jungkook says, mouth full of the pork belly. He licks his lips to savor the flavor. Jungkook always wore a disgusted face when something was amazing in taste and even now, his eyebrows are knit together in confusion and he appears utterly disgusted - that was a good sign.

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” you smile at him, washing the dishes you’ve made when cooking.

“I told you I don’t mind washing the dishes, Y/N.” Jungkook says, glancing upwards at you. “It’s the least I can do since you cooked.”

You sigh, smile never ceasing. “It’s alright. You’re a guest after all.”

Your dog wasn’t home and you don’t know when he will be - nor did you truly care. His friend was nicer, more entertaining, as well. He ate your cooking as if it was fine dining, and appreciated it, too. He was kind and good at conversation - he was caring, far more than your dog.

“I enjoy cooking for you, Jungkook. You deserve it the most.” you turn off the water and begin to dry your hands. Your eyes meet his and for a moment, you’re pondering if he’s thinking about your words the way you intend him to.

“Thank you.” Jungkook grins, tiny dimples at the side of his cheek forming.

You lean against the island that he sits at, quiet and content that he’s eating the food you’ve made for him. It wouldn’t be the first time you cooked for Jungkook - you recall the first time without your dog being present was a year prior. You had cooked and waited for his return and was left with nothing. It was hours after when you heard him return - this time not alone or coherent. Jungkook had slung the man onto the couch annoyed with just how drunk he had become and when you emerged - in nothing but a nightgown - he had apologized profusely.

“I cooked.” you had sighed, disappointed but not the least bit surprised by the actions of your dog. “Do you want a plate?”

It has become a tradition now. You’d cook for Jungkook often and each time, he'd come and enjoy what you’ve made him - whatever you made him.

Jungkook was no fool, as well. He knows just how independent you’ve become, especially within the last year. He knows that you know that he knows of your boyfriend's loyalty - or lack of - but you never question him about it, even when he prepares himself to tell you the truth if you had.

Over time, Jungkook noticed that you don’t seem to care about your boyfriend's whereabouts - and around that time, he picks up on just how you begin to dress when around him. It was subtle at first, sure. You showed more skin - more legs with your shorts, more shoulders. He notes that the clothes you wore were tighter but relaxed seeing as you were in the comfort of your own home. You’d wear tanktops that showed your breast with shorts that made your thighs highly appealing for his eyes. Overtime, you ditched the bra and it became harder for him to not gawk at the way your breast looked in them.

Jungkook doesn’t want to assume anything - you were so far removed from your boyfriend that you didn’t care anymore. One drunken wine night when the man was away on a “business trip”, you had told Jungkook that you hadn’t had sex with him in close to a year now - his own drunken response was that if he was your boyfriend, he would fuck you any chance he’d get.

Jungkook isn’t sure if you remember that night and neither of you brought it up after.

“You seem tense.” Jungkook is behind you now - when he has gotten up from his seat, you are unaware, consumed by your own thoughts. “Is everything alright?”

You slowly nod your head, turning it slightly to get a glimpse of him.

Jungkook snorts. “Your shoulders are tense.” he says, gentle hands placing themselves on your shoulders. “Is everything alright with work? The car?”

“Yes, Jungkook. I’m fine.” you giggled. “You worry too much.”

Jungkook’s fingers begin to rub at your shoulders, applying pressure to them. You swallow, your hands gripping the edge of the sink.

“You should relax, Y/N. You’re always doing something and never truly giving yourself a break.”

Jungkook’s hand reaches your neck. They run up slowly, goosebumps left behind in its trail. Your eyes flutter close at how good it felt to be massaged.

“Does it feel good?”

There’s a drop in Jungkook’s voice - it’s deeper. He whispers it, as if only speaking directly to you, even if you and he are already alone in the home.

“Yes.” you murmur back, head falling back against his chest just as he reaches the front of your neck. A tattooed hand wraps around it, thumb caressing your skin in circular motions.

“I’m glad.” Jungkook is subtle when he presses himself against you - so gentle that you don’t notice it at first. You're completely against his body, in blissful relaxation. “You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

Even now, you dressed so comfortably - shorts stopping high above your thighs and a shirt that sculptures your breast so lovingly that he had a difficult time not watching the way they bounced as you walked around the kitchen preparing him the meal.

“I don’t really have anyone to do that.” you whisper back, a slight moan creeping past your parted lips.

“I can take care of you…unless you object.”

You nod your head and instantly, his free hand roams down to grip your clothed breast. He can feel just how hard your nipple was.

You hiss, back slightly arching.

Jungkook engulfs both breasts in the palm of his hands and begins to rub, your light moans enticing him to continue. He can feel your nipples harden in his grasp and he himself begins to hiss lowly to himself on how heavenly they felt in his hands.

There’s no doubt that the two of you wanted this for far too long by the way you completely allow him to touch you without any resistance. He presses himself against you needily, face in your neck as his hands continue to grip and pull at your breast.

“You smell nice.” Jungkook grumbles in your neck, nose inhaling your sweet scent; he’s sure he sounds like a creep, but he wasn’t going to hold himself back . Not now he’s certain you want him just as much as he does you. “I like this scent on you the most. This and the jasmine one.”

You swallow, heat rushing through your body at his words. Jungkook had memorized the perfume’s you’d wear due to the countless times he’d be around you. He recalls the time he even had to help his friend pick out a gift for you on an anniversary and how upset he had been when he chose the cheapest scent he could find - and one you’d never wear. Jungkook had swamped them out and chose the very scent you wore now and you’re none the wiser.

Your arms reach behind you to cup Jungkook’s head just as you feel his teeth sink into the nape of your neck. He’s being more rough; dominant. You don’t remember when the last time a man has touched you with such possessiveness - a sex-toy could only do so much.

“Such pretty skin,” Jungkook’s tongue pokes out of his mouth to lick onto your neck. “just want to mark it all up.”

“Then do it.” you respond. If you and him were going to do this, mind as well go all out. Your dog often comes home smelling like sickly sweet fruit perfume and cigarettes at times - you wanted Jungkook’s scent all over you.

Jungkook does, biting your skin harshly and then suckling on it until your neck is perfectly marked up. He’s then quick to turn you around to finally face him, the both of you now locking eyes.

“Are you upset?” Jungkook questions, eyes dark with lust but a bit concerned.

“With you?” you ask, raising a brow. “Never.”

“Not with me. In general.” Jungkook murmurs, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently traces your lips. “I’m sure you know…what he does.”

You nod your head, leaning into Jungkook’s touch.

“Don’t want you to regret or feel bad afterwards.”

“Are you?” you ponder aloud.

You were so far removed from your boyfriend that you could care less about what he thought. In your mind, he was nothing but a roommate now; the two of you not even sharing a bed.

Jungkook, however, was your boyfriend's friend and maybe he would feel remorseful.

“I told you that I’d never stop fucking you if given the chance.” Jungkook snorts, thumb tapping your lip.

“Then don’t stop.” you murmur, tongue poking out to wrap poke his tongue. “I haven’t been fucked good in so long.”

Jungkook hisses, his hand now gripping your cheek. He shakes his head. “He told me what you like.” he confesses, unsure if you were willing to go down that route with him.

“He was never really into anything.” you shrug your shoulders - this is why you ended up with a vibrator and a dildo; and you were currently looking into a vibrating dildo, how sad your life has become.

Jungkook is aware of his friend's lack of foreplay - he was only ever interested in his own pleasure. Jungkook, however, didn’t mind pleasuring you until you were begging him to stop - but maybe he was just a bad person to think about his friend's girlfriend riding his face until she came.

Then again, you were being cheated on by said friend so maybe this was just his karma; it wasn’t like you were a bad person and deserve such treatment.

“I want to eat you out.” Jungkook declares suddenly that it catches you off guard completely. “Why do you look scared?”

“Just shocked.” you say, body growing even hotter. “Wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“‘I want you to ride my tongue until you’re squirting all over me’ is what I truly wanted to say.” Jungkook deadpans and blinks. “But I didn’t want to scare you away.”

You gulp, eyes widening and thighs clenching.

“And by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together, it didn’t scare you.” Jungkook smirks and instantly, he presses his lips against you. It’s a deep kiss that catches you by surprise, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave more.

“I can kiss you, right?” Jungkook says against your lips - maybe he should’ve asked first. “I know kissing is more intimate-”

You shut him up by kissing him, arms wrapping around his neck to assure that he doesn’t get too far away from you.

Kissing Jungkook came naturally - as if the two of you had done it before. He pries your mouth open and allows his tongue to dance around yours, all the way he holds onto your hips.

“Bed,” you kiss his lips again. “room.”

Jungkook follows behind you, unable to keep his hands off of your body as you lead him to your bedroom. He doesn’t even bother to close the door before he’s already tugging at your clothes.

Your shirt is the first to go, breast pooling out that Jungkook cannot focus on anything else but them. He dives into them, your back hitting your mattress just as he begins to suckle on your left nipple, his thumb and index finger pinching the right.

The noises Jungkook made were just as filthy, wet sucking and groans echoing off of your walls. How long he had craved to see your bare breast - they were always teasing him when he was around. Bouncing whenever you move, nipples always erect for his view.

“So pretty.” Jungkook brings the right nipple into his mouth, showing the same amount of needy lust and love to it as the left. His hand squeezes your left breast in the palm of his hand, the pain shooting pleasure right to your core. “I can suck on them all night. I don’t know why he doesn’t.”

Now, Jungkook brings both nipples into his mouth, needily needing to taste you. He has a crazed look in his eyes that only causes you to squirm beneath him, legs wrapping around his waist to feel him.

“You can suck on them whenever you want.”

Jungkook grunts, teeth grazing against your nipples as they pop from his wet mouth. “Don’t tempt me, Y/N. You’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

You were positive you didn’t want Jungkook to leave.

“I want you naked right now. I wanna see just what that idiot has for me right now.”

There wasn’t much Jungkook had to do to get you naked - in seconds, he had helped you kick off your shorts along with your panties, needy pussy on display for him.

“Need you on my tongue now.” Jungkook hisses, flipping you and him so he is beneath you now. Your pussy is so close to his face that it causes you to yelp in slight humiliation.

“I-I wasn’t really prepared to do this, i-I-”

“Y/N,” Jungkook calls, tone dismissive. “I’m a man. Just fuck yourself against my tongue.”

So you do - and Jungkook’s hands only make you do more. His hands slap your thigh to kick up the pace, his eyes boring into your face as it contorts with pleasure. Your hips just as you grind against his tongue, hands gripping your breast.

Jungkook’s eyes never leave your face. He enjoys watching the stress leave your body as you pleasure yourself, it tells him that this is something you truly needed. His hands begin to rub along your hips, encouraging you to continue until they slide down to your ass. He cups them, his own head swaying side to side to further stimulate your needy clit.

“S-S-Shit!” your body leans back, hands planting against his thighs as he devours your cunt as if it was his last meal. “I-I’m gonna cum…you gotta move.”

That was the last thing Jungkook was going to do - not even as your hands try to pry him away from your pussy, he doesn’t. He continues to suckle onto your clit until you’re visibly shaking above him, but even then he was determined; fully committed to having you cum hard on his tongue.

Your legs begin to quiver and Jungkook soon was going to get what he was looking for - you cum. He licks the arousal up, slurping and suckling loudly as your moans mewl out of your mouth.

“I could eat you all day.” Jungkook speaks beneath you - and you knew he was serious.

You did the wrong thing by looking at him. His mouth and chin was fully coated in you and just the sight causes you to cum even harder - the hardest you have ever had in your life; right onto his tongue like he wanted.

You fall back against the bed with a tired sigh, breathing hitching.

Jeon Jungkook was a dangerous man. No wonder the universe gave you your dog - you couldn’t handle a real man such as Jungkook, surely.

“Can I fuck you?” Jungkook asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Unless you’re tired then-”

“I want you to cum in me.”

Jungkook coughs, his cock jumping in his pants. “I-I…really?”

“If you’re going to fuck me, you mind as well go all out.” you pant, widening your legs. “I don’t want you to hold back, either.”

You were going to be the death of him - but if this was what is going to kill him, then he’ll be content.

“Fuck.” Jungkook is in a hurry to remove his clothing, scattering it all around the room without a care. “Fuck you’re so perfect. I would treat you so well, Y/N. Fuck I hate him.”

Jungkook’s words causes you to giggle at the circumstances. He hated your boyfriend - his friend - for allowing you to fall into the arms of another man - him. It’s all comical, truly.

“I would fuck you all day if you’d let me. Come home every night and fill you with my cum. How are you not pregnant yet?”

Jungkook’s babbling to himself, even if you could hear it. It’s questions he has asked himself time and time again - wondering why his friend would rather sleep with other girls when he had someone like you at home. You cooked every day and assured the home stayed just right. He would have put a baby in you - and of course married you; but this wasn’t about him now, was it?

Jungkook positions himself at your center and swallows. You’re clenching, ready to be stuffed.

“I bet you’d like to put a baby in me.” you tease, hips slightly wiggling for him to enter you. “Why don’t you?”

Jungkook growls. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Y/N. You don’t know how many times I imagined you in my home.”

Maybe Jeon Jungkook was a bad friend for imagining said friend's girlfriend in his home cooking for him - or in his bed breeding her. BUT he had since stepped out on the relationship so karma would have to skip him, right? If anything, you being with him would be doing both of you a favor - you wouldn’t be cheated on and he would dote on you every chance he had.

Jungkook begins to enter you, shuddering at the tightness of your pussy. It engulfs him completely, as if shoving him in with whatever powers it held.

Shit.

Instantly, Jungkook begins to pound into you - you casted a spell, surely. Whatever you put in the food had caused him to be highly consumed by you entirely. Maybe a baby would be nice, right?

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to get right into it - neither were you against it. He holds your legs apart in a tight hold, cock pounding into you so heavenly that even you thought about giving the man what he has been imagining.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses when his eyes catch the white, creamy ring around his cock. “you haven’t been fucked good in so long. You’re milking my cock already.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a pussy before you could’ve been fucking me.” you needed Jungkook to fuck you harder if possible. Making him mad and taunting him was an amazing way to start.

Jungkook’s eyes are furious, lust and anger swirling in them. “Maybe if you would’ve asked me to fuck you I would have.” he spits back, his thrust quickening. “You always looked so desperate, too.”

“I was.” your hand slap against his bare chest, but it doesn’t cause him to stop - no, if anything it makes him fuck into you even deeper at your retaliation. “You were desperate to fuck me, too.” you moaned when he hit that sweet spot that has never been touched before. “Like a little teenage boy.”

Neither of you notice the footsteps coming closer to the bedroom, far too entangled with one another's pleasure.

“I know when a bitch needs to be stuffed. Should’ve filled you with my cum years ago.” Jungkook flips you onto your stomach. He yanks your hair back so your back is perfectly arched - and then he takes you just as hard as before. “But tonight will be the night that I do what we both want, huh?”

“Fuck, you’re so deep.” your eyes snap shut, stomach forming knots. Your breast bounces in the rhythm of his powerful thrusts.

One hand in your hair while the other begins to play with your wet clit. Jungkook buries his head at the side of your neck, lips against your ear.

“You’re coming home with me tonight, Y/N. I’m going to breed you here, then you’re leaving with me.” It’s the sex and lust talking that's causing him to be so demanding and possessive, but you and him both go along with it. When the high was down, then maybe the two of you could talk with sense.

But as of right now - he was determined to put a baby in you without thinking of any consequences and stupidly, so were you.

“You’re gonna leave him right?” Jungkook asks, yanking your hair harder as his hips jut into you. “You’re gonna give me that baby you want me to put in you so bad and you’re gonna leave that sad excuse of a man.”

Your pussy clenches around him and your eyes manage to open. You’re shocked to see him at the door, eyes wide and watching his friend fuck you into oblivion all the while bad mouthing him.

“Y-Yes!” your juices leak down your thigh, overstimulated due to Jungkook’s fucking and aggressive rubbing along to your swollen clit. “Want your baby.”

You don’t break eye contact with the man - it’s evident that he’s shocked, but he cannot be angered. Not with you, at least, maybe with his friend.

“He could never fuck me like you. Never give me a baby.”

Now you were purposely taunting him, upset that this is when he decides to come home - but a bit glad that he gets to witness the end of an already crumbled relationship. You wonder how he feels witnessing his friend fuck you better than he ever could; with more passion.

You cum around Jungkook’s cock, juices leaking out of you and onto your bed and Jungkook isn’t far behind you. His thrust began to grow sloppy. He leans away from your neck, eyes glancing up at the figure watching them - the same figure of his former friend; one who had not spoken to him in months unbeknownst to you.

The friendship had ended months prior when Jungkook had suggested that he treat you better, in which he responded angrily that if he wanted you to be treated good so bad that he should have you, declaring that he would have nothing but his sloppy seconds. Never truly imagining that he would witness it happen before his eyes - he was just angry and drunk at the time when he spoke so harshly of you.

Jungkook cums inside of you, so deep and so much. His eyes never leave the shocked ones of his former friend at the door as the both of you allow the high to die down. “You’re coming home with me tonight.” he says, not asking but demanding.

You nod your head, eyes leaving that of your former boyfriend and they close as his (former) friend gently lays you down onto your bed.

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #btswritersclub #bangtanwritershq #bangtan smut #jungkook smut #bts cheating #explicit-tae #lick back #bangtanwriters net #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #jungkook imagine #bts affair au

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jonathansthickthighs · 5 months

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Yandere! Choso Kamo x Reader

Description: You start receiving sweet, anonymous love notes from a secret admirer which start turning perverted over time.

Trigger Warnings: 7.4k words, nsfw, college AU, yandere, afab reader, obsessive love, virgin choso, CREEP CHOSO, pervert choso, stalker choso, masturbation, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), choso is kinda pathetic, he calls reader princess, reader is lowkey into choso stalking her, dark themes

Not edited!

Masterlist

I wish you could grasp the exquisite beauty you hold in my eyes. ♡︎

Your eyes widened as you read the note placed in front of you on your desk, heat rushing to your cheeks. Surely this person must be mistaken, was this note really directed at you? You looked around the empty classroom wondering who could’ve possibly left this note on your desk and if they were even in this class. Even if you weren’t sure if the note was for you, suppressing the smile that was forming in your face felt impossible. Nobody had ever said anything like this to you before. Sure, people found you attractive, but the way this was written almost felt innocent— like there was no malicious intent behind it. The complete opposite of what most men that approached you were like.

You traced your hand over the neat calligraphy, feeling your heart rate speed up at the thought of someone truly thinking this about you. You couldn’t help yourself from reading it over and over, allowing your lips to curl up knowing no one was around to see you smiling at a paper like an idiot.

Unbeknownst to you, a tall, pale man with dark hair styled in space buns, stood there observing you discretely through the small window of the amphitheater door. Your reaction to his note caused his heart to leap with joy, the sight of your smile held the power to brighten even his darkest days. Your response to his message only inspired him to dedicate his time to write you more notes that would make you feel as flustered as he was by you when you spared him a single glance.

Choso stepped away from the door smoothly when he started hearing voices approaching from down the hall, pretending to be entertained by his phone. He glanced at the time on the screen, noticing it was almost time for class, but he opted to wait for everyone else to walk in before him. He always did this. Never had he been alone with you in the classroom even though he always arrived before you. He always stood behind a wall watching you stride gracefully into class earlier than everyone else. You were such a smart, punctual, responsible girl and he admired that greatly. He loathed never being capable of being alone with you, knowing he would be a blushing, horny mess— quite frankly, that’s not the first impression he wanted you to have of him.

Taking a deep breath, Choso walked in, making his way to his usual sit, two rows behind you, yet at a perfectly angle where he was able to contemplate your side profile. The moment he walked past you, your eyes locked. You offered him a small, cute smile and Choso wanted nothing more than to beam back at you, but instead he drifted his eyes away from yours, blushing in embarrassment. You exuded such kindness, always greeting him with the warmth of your pretty smile, even amidst the whispers and judgements surrounding his oddness. You kept smiling for him even when he didn’t smile back.

Choso was a very shy man. He didn’t know how to talk to girls, but that wasn’t something he was interested in doing before he met you. Dating had never been something he took interest in. Despite his brothers’ persistent attempts to orchestrate romantic encounters with women, they would always be left disheartened by Choso’s aloofness, proof of his disinterest in the affairs of the heart until he found you. None of them were like you.

The pale man proceeded his daily routine of observing you, not paying attention to what the professor was explaining. To him, this was his time to learn all your quirks and movements. His own personal course of you. Don’t you dare ask him anything on what the class is actually about because he’ll just answer with facts and observations about you. Like how you chew on the cap of your pen furiously when you don’t understand a subject or how you shift in your seat every few minutes because you just can’t seem to find a comfortable position to sit in.

He finds solace in studying your countenance, captivated by your vivid expressions, particularly your expressive eyes. The eyes are the windows of your soul, as they say. They unveil the depth of your emotions, he could tell when something was off about you by merely looking into your eyes— your feelings always danced within them. Being able to stare into your eyes without fear of rejection was one of his deepest desires in life. Feeling lost was a petrifying emotion, but losing himself to the never ending abysm that lived in your orbs was something he would never be apprehensive of.

You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. There isn’t a second in the day where you are not invading my thoughts. I wish I had the courage to speak to you.

Reading the note that was accompanied by a beautiful rose this time, you pouted, wondering why this person was so afraid to approach you. According to your own judgment, you gave off a friendly demeanor. If only you could figure out who was leaving you these notes. You weren’t afraid of approaching them first if they were too shy to do so themselves. You had been getting these notes for a month now and no matter how early you got to class this person always beat you to it. Deciding to form a plan to get this person to show themselves, you started brainstorming.

You could never begin to comprehend the depths of Choso’s love for you. That’s why you would never understand his reasoning when he followed that disgusting man that harassed you on campus. You would never understood why he had to pull the man to an empty alley and make him suffer. Choso hated that he had been at work when it all went down, he wasn’t there to save you and he would never forgive himself for it.

He was lucky you were able to scape him, but nonetheless you would’ve never went through that horrifying situation if only he had been there to protect you. He came to the conclusion that he needed to know your location at all times. That’s why he pretended to bump into you as you made your way to your other class, slipping an AirTag into one of the pockets of your bag discreetly.

He could imagine look of fear in your eyes when this man tried putting his grimy hands on you— it was enough to drive Choso to violence. He wanted to cause that scum the same fear he had caused his precious girl. The lengths he would go for you were unimaginable. What would you think of him if you knew he had stabbed that man to death that night? Even through his internal turmoil about your perception of him, he couldn’t help but feel proud at what he had done for you. From the moment he saw you, he knew he was capable of anything just to keep you safe.

One thing he felt grandly ashamed of was his perverted thoughts. To him you were much more than just a sexual object, but he couldn’t stop his cock from getting hard at the trivial thought of you. Never before had he experienced sexual desire this intense before, because of that, he was still a virgin at his age. Losing his virginity had never even crossed his mind before. Yet, after he met you, he couldn’t stop imagining how pushing his length into your wet, tight heat would feel like.

Every night he would spend it scrolling endlessly through your social media— which he didn’t dare follow— and staring at your beautiful pictures, smiling at him so sweetly. Choso would stare at them intently, thrusting his cock into his fist desperately, moaning your name, imaging you were riding him vigorously trying to make yourself orgasm on his throbbing cock. Thinking about it was enough to make him explode all over his hand and well built abs. Abs he had spent hours at the gym working on to look good just for you. He wanted— no needed you to find him attractive, if he wanted you to only see him he had to make sure he looked his best.

He had trouble containing his excitement when you were around, you simply were too beautiful for your own good. Hence the reason he stood outside the window of your apartment jerking his cock as he watched you rubbing your swollen clit through the window. He wanted nothing more than to climb through the damn window and attach his hungry lips to your clit, which was just begging for his attention. It wasn’t the first time he watched you masturbate, it was clear as day that you needed some help, his help. When you accepted to be his, he would gladly service you every day and night. It didn’t matter how many times as long as you were satisfied, he promised to put your pleasure above his always.

Choso massaged his throbbing cock thoroughly, spreading the precum that leaked from his sensitive tip all over his shaft. He covered his mouth attempting to muffled his pathetic whimpers from being heard by you. He continued watching as you inserted two fingers into your tight cunt, making Choso’s eyes roll all the way to the back of his skull. He wished he could be the one pushing his digits inside of you. He was sure they would feel better than yours, his were so much bigger, they would reach depths you’ve never reached before. Gods, your moans were the most melodious sound he’d ever heard, you were driving him insane— he wasn’t going to be able to hold it much longer. He needed you to come with him. He didn’t deserve to come if you didn’t.

Your facial expressions were the sexiest thing he has ever witnessed. You were simply godly, there was no other way to describe you. The beads of sweat forming on your forehead and coating the rest of your body gave you a breathtaking glow. He needed to taste your skin, kiss and run his tongue all over your delectable body. “Please…” Choso didn’t know what he was begging for, what he did know was how badly he wanted you. His twitching cock was proof of that.

Choso could see your face contort in pleasure. He learned by watching you so often that, when you made that expression, it meant you were close to reaching your peak. He felt relieved knowing that he wouldn’t have lasted much longer. “Let’s come together, princess. P-please, give this to me.” He uttered in a hushed tone, moaning your name lowly.

He shivered as you started fingering yourself at a quicker pace, arching your back. It was almost like you were inviting him to ogle at your heaving breasts, your nipples he so badly wanted to take in his mouth, noticeably perky through the thin fabric of your oversized shirt. Choso would make sure to provide you with a lifetime supply of his shirts, you would never feel obligated to buy an oversized shirt ever again.

Your jaw slacked open as you let it all out, making Choso undergo through a confusing sense of jealousy over your own fingers, yearning to feel you releasing your sweet nectar around his cock instead. Breath heaving, he fisted his pulsing cock a couple of more times, enjoying the sound of the lewd noises that came out of your perfect lips, before spraying an copious amount semen on the ground. He tugged on his cock a few more time, coming down from his high at the same time as you.

“Goodnight, I love you.” His voice barely a sigh as he whispered longingly. He tucked himself back into his pants swiftly before pressing a soft kiss into the tip of his fingers to then drag them it across your reflection in the window. He jumped recalling he should’ve been at his place by now, having lost track of time completely, knowing he had to prepare dinner for his brothers. So with one last look at you, he disappeared into the night.

When Choso arrived to the amphitheater he was surprised to see a note on your desk already. He quickly approached it, grabbing the note, recognizing your handwriting right away.

I want to meet you.

He stilled in place at the five words scribbled on the paper. You were actually interested in finding out who he was? Choso couldn’t decipher what your intent was, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted you to know your secret admirers identity just yet. He knew you were well aware of the swirling rumors about him, everyone painted him as nothing more than a freak. His demeanor remained reserved and he preferred solitude over companionship, which only fueled the disdain others had towards his persona. He wanted to believe you would never see him in such way, but there was always something stabbing him on the side, whispering the possibility that you, too, might harbor the same prejudices as them.

Choso opted to respond to your message briefly, accompanying it by one of your favorite treats before rushing out of the classroom, aware that you would arrive at any moment.

Just like that, exactly one minutes later you entered through the opposite door Choso exited from. You took notice of the note on your desk from afar and quickened your pace towards it in excitement. Smiling, you inspected the treat placed right next to it. How this person knew what your favorite things to snack on were, remained a mystery to you, but it didn’t bother you as long as they kept them coming. Grabbing the note and opening it, your smile disappeared only to reappear in Choso’s face as he watched your reaction. Your facial expression were just so funny to him sometimes.

No. ♡︎

“The fuck?” You exclaimed out loud in disbelief. No? Just no?! You pondered the ulterior motives of this individual. Had they just been playing a month long prank on you this whole time? Visibly frustrated, you plopped down into your seat, glancing at the note once again to make sure you were reading correctly.

Choso felt guilt wash over him when he saw you get genuinely upset, yet he couldn’t suppress the soft giggle that escaped his mouth at how cute you looked when you were mad. He despised that he made you feel this way, but he would reveal himself to you when he was ready and now, was not the right time.

Routinely, he lingered behind for everyone to enter ahead of him before making his entrance. Like he always did, he passed by your row, his eyes inevitably sought yours yearning for that connection he felt with them. This time, an impulse seized Choso, deciding to give you a tentative smile only to not be greeted by your own— mirroring the same coldness he always showed you each time you beamed at him. Bewildered and wounded, he hurried to his seat feeling like he just received a punch in the gut. Was your behavior due to your exasperation at the note or was it because you allowed everyone to taint your mind with the rumors about him?

The pain he felt by your indifference towards him lingered in his chest. Choso spent the whole lecture overthinking, anxiety building in his stomach and causing him to tremble. There was one thing he was completely certain of.

He hated when you didn’t smile for him.

Gloom filled the rest of Choso’s day ever since you decided to stab him in the heart with your frown. Today he had the evening free from his job and he decided to spend it staring at your pictures with a leaky, throbbing erection straining against his sweatpants. He didn’t deserve to ease himself after the events that transpired today. Staring at one of his favorite pictures of you smiling so prettily, he ran his thumb desirously over your face through the screen of his phone. He fantasized about the softness of your skin as he cupped your gorgeous face in his big hands before pressing his lips to yours. He ran his fingers over his chapped lips imagining how they would feel rubbing against your soft ones.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door of his room slam open, holding his phone to his chest securely before facing whoever forced him break out of his delusions. “Yo, bro where’s the—“ Yuji cut himself off when he saw the strange position his brother was in. “You’re not watching porn are you?” He questioned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Choso.

This caused Choso to shake his head rapidly, with widened eyes. “W-what? Of course not, Yuji! What is it that you need?” He inquired eager to usher his brother out of his room with utmost haste.

Yuji smiled slyly, sliding into his bed. “What are hiding, bro?” He curiously interrogated his older brother, wiggling his eyebrows comically.

Choso chuckled nervously, his grasp on his phone tightened against his chest. “N-nothing, just scrolling, heh.” Way to go, Choso, you can never hide anything from your prying brother. This caused Yuji to snicker, throwing himself towards Choso, fighting him for his cellphone. “Don’t think I don’t see your raging boner, bro. Let me see what you’re looking at!” He joked, attempting to force his phone out of his iron grip.

“Why are you even looking there, brother? Gross!” Choso quipped back, his voice muffled by his brothers hand on his face. With a victorious laugh, Yuji suspended his arm in the air seeing Choso’s phone in his hand.

Yuji quickly unlocked his older brother’s phone because, of course, he had no passcode. “Whoa, she’s so pretty. Who is this?” He exclaimed in astonishment, scrolling through your profile, bamboozled at the fact that his virgin brother was finally taking interest in an actual girl.

“Yuji, please just give me my phone back.” Choso sighed in defeat, not wanting to talk to his brother about his obsessive love for you.

“Is she your crush?” Yuji questioned playfully, dragging the last word. Choso furrowed his eyebrows together, before nodding awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. His younger brother erupted in a boisterous laugh, rolling on his bed like a madman. “About damn time, bro! I was staring to think you were going to die alone— wait, why aren’t you following her?” Yuji inquired, confused by what he was seeing on the phone screen.

“I— we’ve never really talked.” Choso sheepishly admitted, heat creeping up his neck in embarrassment.

“Unacceptable. Let’s talk to her now!” Immediately after that suggestion, Choso ripped his phone from Yuji’s hand.

“Are you insane? She’s gonna think I’m a creep!” Which he was, but he didn’t need his brother knowing that.

Yuji shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, so help me understand. You don’t talk to her and she doesn’t talk to you. I bet you can barely look at her in the eye. How exactly do you plan on getting your crush to evolve, bro? Are you going to pine in secret forever? Do you think one day she’ll come to our door asking for your hand in marriage out of nowhere?” I wish.

“You know what?” Yuji snatched Choso’s phone back, smirking, before pressing the follow button.

“Yuji, no!” Choso pulled his space buns in frustration, falling back on his bed. He glanced at the watch on his nightstand knowing you most likely had your phone on your hand at this hour. There was no way you would miss the notification.

“Chill, bro, it’s done. You’re welcome!” Yuji beamed as he threw Choso’s phone back to his chest, his grin radiating with accomplishment as he rose from the bed, making his way out of the room with a satisfied stride. Choso groaned, covering his face with hands as he blushed furiously. Not even a minute after Yuji walked out of the room he felt his phone vibrate and Choso’s heart almost came out through his mouth when he saw the notification.

You followed him back.

The next day you walked through the door of the amphitheater with a gleeful spring in your step— your frustrations from yesterday seemingly dissipated. You decided you weren’t going to force whoever was sending you notes to show themselves. They have the right to remain hidden if that’s what they truly desired and you weren’t one to beg anyone for anything. If something was bound to happen with your secret admirer, it would.

As per usual, a folded paper laid on your desk, but you were quick to take notice of the white paper bag that stood next to it. You furrowed your eyebrows as curiosity took over you, almost skipping towards it. The note was brief and straight to the point.

Would you wear this for me?

As you blinked, a sense of puzzlement washed over you upon reading the note. Now they’re sending you clothing items? The bag, securely sealed with tape, offered no deterrent as you swiftly tore it open. Instantly, a surge or heat flooded your cheeks at the sight of its contents. You moved your gaze around, making sure no one was around before pulling out a box that held a pair of panties, colored a deep purple, made out of lace, see through material. Oh, but they weren’t just any panties, it was one of those vibrating underwear that was controlled by someone else with a controller.

You couldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing right now. Out of all the endless note you had received from them, this was way out of the ordinary. None of them had shown anything sexual, not even innuendos. You hated to admit it, but you didn’t know wether to feel disrespected or severely turned on at the thought of your secret admirer controlling the vibrations during class. You bit you lips giving it some thought before nodding with determination. You shoved the panties back in the bag, advancing out of the classroom in direction to the restroom.

Choso watched in disbelief as you walked out, scarcely able to believe that you were actually going to wear his gift. Today, he had woken up feeling bold and after the confidence boost he got from you the night before, he had decided to procure something a little more special for you. After you followed him back, he saw it as a signal that you didn’t see him as everyone else did. Perhaps you two would be meeting sooner than he had anticipated, yet first, he wanted to test the waters.

He needed to assess the extent of your willingness to invest in him without even knowing his identity. He would’ve never guessed this would be something that excited him at this extent, his cock was fully erect as he eagerly waited for you to come back. He wished he could see the way those panties would cling to your hips and ass— something told him he would sooner than later. He had specifically bought that color to match his hoodie, which he was wore today in hopes you would wear his gift. And you did.

By the time you were back, everyone had settled to their seats already, including Choso. The moment you stepped into the classroom, he pressed the button in its lowest setting drawing a whimper from your lips, making everyone turn their attention towards you. Your eyes widened, swiftly offering an awkward, yet apologetic smile before ushering to your seat. While you were in the restroom you were able to catch sight of what the box the panties came in said— your secret admirer had failed to notice that the box indicated that the vibrations were controlled by a close-range remote control. Now you were able to confirm that your admirer was in this very class.

Choso smirked as he watched you take a seat, nobody else noticed, but there was a slight wobble to your walk— only a person that observed you constantly could differentiate from you usual stride. He proceeded to change the vibrations to the medium setting, almost chuckling out loud when he saw you jump slightly at the sudden change of speed. He could only imagine how wet your cunt was getting. Such a dirty girl, getting off to being controlled by a man she doesn’t even know in front of everyone. Would you be able to orgasm like this?

The pale man had to contain a hiss as he palmed his throbbing cock over his pants under the table, desiring nothing more than to give it to you on the spot. He could see the noticeable embarrassment on your face from his angle. Shifting on your seat every so often, covering your mouth with your hands as you attempted to take your notes and your eyes rolling back every time he changed the speed. He simply loved watching you look around, making sure no one noticed your odd behavior. Choso never knew this could be so hot.

Choso bit his lip, cock twitching in his now too tight pants, seeing your chest heaving up and down. He could tell you were close, so he decided to change it to the highest speed. He watched you lower your head, tightly shutting your eyes closed as you came, muffling your whimpers with your hand. Unbeknownst to you, Choso was in the same exact position as you as he released in his trousers by simply observing you.

He was thankful he decided to wear dark pants today.

I know I messed up, princess. I shouldn’t have given you the panties in the box. Now you know how close I am to you. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed watching you squirm in pleasure in your seat. This is embarrassing to admit, but you were so sexy that you made me come in my pants. I hate wasting my cum that way when it could easily be inside you instead.

I’ve been thinking about it and I changed my mind about us meeting. How about we meet at the fountain in the middle of campus? Tonight at 8pm. I bought you a little something to wear for me. ♡

You hadn’t stopped re-reading the note ever since you left class. The dark, purple summer dress he had bestowed upon you lay delicately on your bed as you wished time would hasten its pace, eager to encounter this mysterious individual. Excitement bubbled up in your stomach as well as fear, what if this person turned out to be less than benevolent? There was barely anyone around campus at that hour, there no one to save you. Memories of the time that man had tried harassing you flooded your mind, not wanting the past to repeat itself. Yet your longing to meet this person persisted more than your anxieties. That’s why you opted to pack a pepper spray and a pocket knife in your bag without forgetting to share your location with your best friend.

Noticing the time to leave was approaching, you quickly dressed yourself, spritzing one of your favorite perfume on yourself before stepping out the door.

Choso was a nervous wreck, having arrived an hour too early. He had been sweating bullets the whole time as he attempted to get ready, forcing him to endure three showers. How was he supposed to look his best for you when his body wasn’t cooperating? He had wore his best outfit for you and made sure his hair was neatly styled in his usual do.

Now, he was there, struggling to regulate his breathing, trying his hardest to control his sweating. He dreaded appearing like a disheveled mess when you finally met. He kept checking the time, despising how extended each minute felt. He scrolled through your account, attempting to make time pass by faster, entertaining himself with your pictures as he always did when he felt down. He took notice of the time, seeing it was already one minute past eight. Where were you?

You were merely a minute late, yet panic took over him, entertaining thoughts of being left abandoned or worse yet, fearing that something had happened to you on the way here. Rising to his feet, he scanned the dimly lit campus and there was no sight of you. This couldn’t be happening to him. He could almost feel tears forming his eyes and just as he was about to check your location, he heard soft steps approaching through the grass.

He turned around and there you were.

He gulped when he saw you were wearing the dress he had gifted you with so much love. You were so beautiful, his heart twisted in his chest. For the first time it was just you and him— with your knowledge, obviously. He stared into your eyes and you stared right back. Your eyes were wide in astonishment. Choso attempted to open his mouth, but no words came out.

“It’s you.” You stated, your voice almost a whisper. Choso’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, his gaze was fixated on your pretty face and he couldn’t possibly look away. So, so pretty— he wanted to snatch you away and hide you from the world, your beauty shinning for his eyes only. He probably had a lovestruck look on his face and he didn’t even care about hiding it anymore.

“Y-yeah.” That was all Choso could manage to utter out, wishing he had left his hair down so it would at least cover part of his flushed face.

“You’re a shy little thing aren’t you?” You giggled, taking a few steps closer to him. “You can’t even look at me in the eye for more than a second.” You added as you tried to catch his golden brown eyes, surrounded by what seemed like red eyeshadow, but in reality the crimson around his eyes was brought to you by his lack of sleep. Choso kept his gaze on the ground, feeling the back of his neck starting to sweat. “You were incredibly bold the other day, not what I would expect from a man like you. Consider me pleasantly surprised.” He blushed harder at your compliment.

“Y-you liked it?” Choso inquired attempting to meet your eyes again, almost whimpering at how close you were to him. He could feel the warmth radiating from your body.

“Honestly, I found it quite disrespectful.” You started, making Choso’s eyes open up as he started apologizing profusely, but he was cut short. “But that was only at first. The more thought I gave it, the wetter I got. I fucking loved it, Choso.” His dick shot straight up the moment he heard his name leave your lips, he had longed to heart it for longer than you could muster. You drew yourself nearer to him until your soft chest was pressed against his hard one. Choso could stop his eyes from glueing themselves to your chest, being squeezed against his own. He was rock hard.

“Now it’s my turn to be bold with you, Choso. Would you like to go back to my place and show me what you can do with that, instead of a vibrator?” You suggested, biting your lip as you cupped his member in your hand. The golden eyed man couldn’t hold his whimpers when he felt your hand on him. This was not the way he visualized this night, but there was no way he would reject your offer.

“Let’s go.” Choso agreed eagerly.

You grabbed his hand as you both started hurrying towards your apartment which was only five minutes away. He was certain he would never tire of the feeling of your hand on his. He stared at you face, not believing you were truly here with him. He couldn’t stop himself from slipping your hand from his and lifting you up into his arms, carrying you the rest of the way.

“Oh? You seem to know the way to my apartment, have you been stalking me?” You questioned playfully, poking his cheek. Choso stopped on his tracks, looking at your facial expression trying to find the reassurance that you were truly playing with him right now. “Jeez, Choso! Relax a little, I’m only joking. I wouldn’t mind you stalking me, I’ve always thought you were the hottest guy in class.” You winked at him, causing a genuine smile to creep to his red face as he continued his way to your apartment.

The moment you arrived at your apartment, Choso rushed to your bedroom with you still in his arms, placing you gently on your bed. He sat next to you, feeling the sheets of your mattress, reminiscing of all the times he had been in here without your knowledge. You placed a hand on his thigh softly and he flexed it as he felt himself tense up when you got closer to him. “W-wait. I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

You stared at him in bewilderment. “You’re being serious right now?”

“Yes. I-I’m sorry. I wanted to let you know in case I wasn’t… good. We don’t have to continue if you don’t want.” Choso apologized, starting to get up and walk himself out of your apartment, only to be stopped by you.

“It’s okay, Choso. I just can’t believe a guy that looks like you has never done anything like this before.” You admitted as you cupped his face gently. The fact that you found him this attractive made his chest inflate with pride— after all, he always tried to look his best for you. “Can I kiss you?” You asked for permission and he answered with an eager nod. You closed the space between you both, massaging your lips into his surprisingly soft ones. Choso placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze, making you open your mouth ardently for him to slide his tongue in. Your wet tongue felt like heaven against his, you kiss was skyrocketing him into an abysm of serendipity. He never thought kissing could feel this good.

You slowly pulled away, a string of saliva keeping your lips connected to one another. “That was amazing, [Name]. Thank you.” Choso gratefully expressed, a lovesick smile lingering on his face.

Your lips formed into a smirk before pushing him back on your bed, climbing onto his lap and crashing your lips into his once again. He responded right away by sliding his tongue across your bottom lips, desperate for you to allow him entrance into your wet cavern and you complied enthusiastically. As you shared the reverent kiss you started grinding you hips against the tent in pants, making him grunt into the kiss. You pulled away from him momentarily to lift off his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs. “Wow, you’re so strong, Choso.” You praised him, dragging your hand over them, making him hiss at the contact.

“It’s all for you, princess.” He admitted, daring to place his hand on your ass that was half covered by the purple fabric of the dress. “Gods, I’ve wanted to grab this ass for such a long time. You’re so damn breathtaking.” He added squeezing your globs firmly.

“You can touch me wherever you want from now on.” You replied shakily, feeling your panties damped more by the minute. Having him feel you up and grope you this way was making you inexplicably horny.

Choso moved one of his hand tentatively up your thigh until he reached your crotch, looking up at you for permission to touch that sacred place. You gave a nod, understanding exactly what he was asking for. Choso wasted no time, running his fingers over your clothed pussy. You shut your eyes, quivering as you felt him graze your sensitive clit, wanting for him to pull your panties off and touch you without a barrier. “Can I taste you?” You slowly unveiled your eyes to find Choso begging you with his eyes to allow him the pleasure of eating you out. You nodded zealously, getting off his lap, standing in front of him as he remained seated.

Choso pulled your dress off, slowly exposing you to him. “I can’t belive how beautiful you are.” He ran his eyes over your body, adorned by some cute purple, lace lingerie, making him grin adoringly. It seemed that you knew by now he loved that color on you. As much as he loved the way you looked in the little piece you decided to wear for him, he needed it off. Now.

He attempted to undo your bra, needing your assistance due to his lack of experience, making you giggle. He slowly pulled the bra off, revealing your naked breasts to him. He couldn’t help himself from ogling your breasts like a pervert, he had wanted to see you fully nude for such an extended period of time— he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

The curve of your waist was inviting him run his hands through it until they reached your hips and with that he pulled you closer to him, until your breasts were close enough to his face. He took one of your perky nipples in his mouth, sucking like he was starved while he pulled gently on your other nipple. He moved his other hand down to your cunt to rub on your clit over the thin fabric, while simultaneously stimulating your sensitive nipples. It was too much for you, moans flew out of your mouth unstoppably. You were incredibly wet.

He moved on to suckle on your other nipple, enjoying the taste of your skin thoroughly. He released your nipple with a wet pop, yearning to taste your juices on his tongue. He hooked his finger on your panties before pulling them down in a swift motion. He pushed you gently onto your bed. He spread your legs apart, groaning at the sight of your sopping wet cunt. “Such a pretty little pussy. I’ve always wanted to have my mouth right here.” Choso expressed as he placed a finger on your clit, always begging for his attention. “You don’t know how many times I’ve jerked off watching you touch yourself.” He let the confession slip out before he could stop himself.

“You’ve watched me touch myself? That’s so fucking hot!” You threw your head back as he started rubbing consistent circles on you clit. He decided he had teased himself long enough and it was finally time to taste you. He started by giving you a long lick, dragging his inexperienced tongue upwards from your entrance towards your clit, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he delighted himself with your taste for the first time. He stilled for a moment before attacking your clit with his mouth. With your guidance he was able to lick at just the right spot, earning breathy moans from you. You chanted his name as he licked your sensitive bud with no plans on stopping until you fed him your nectar.

“Don’t stop, Choso! Put your fingers inside me!” You squeaked out as he quickly complied, your walls squeezing around his fingers and he reached places you’ve never reached with your own fingers. “I’m gonna come soon!” You whined, squeezing his head between your thighs as you arched your back in pleasure.

He speed up the movements of his tongue, delighting himself with the taste of your pussy, thrusting his digits inside you at a rapid pace. He squeezed his eyes shut, moaning into your clit, knowing he was going to make you orgasm with his mouth just like he always desired. Once he felt you clench around his finger tightly he knew it was over. A scream of his name rippled your throat as you let it all out. You shivered as you came down from your, legs trembling in ecstasy. Choso stayed attached to your pussy with his eyes closed, body quivering, lapping up your delightful juices. You had once again made him come in his pants.

Choso stood up from his knees, unfastening his trousers, kicking them off his feet, desperate to finally feel you pussy. You stared at his cum covered cock, taking in his size. “You’re huge, Choso.” You said eyeing him lustfully. The lewd look on your face made his dick stand up completely straight even after having came just now.

You shimmied yourself onto the middle of the bed encouraging him to climb in with you. Choso complied, hungrily contemplating your body. He loved absolutely every part of it. Placing himself on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight, he pressed his lips against yours, missing the feeling of them. While you were kissing he started grinding his cock against your soaking wet heat. His erect member was in desperate need to be sheathed by your warmth.

Choso grabbed his member by the base, rubbing the tip against your entrance teasingly slow, spreading the cum that coated him all over your pussy. “Push it in, please, Choso.” You begged, voice wavering in desire. Hearing you plead for him awakened something different in him, he no longer felt embarrassed or ashamed about anything. You had accepted him. From this day on you had become officially his and he owned your pretty body. Nothing could stop him now, nobody would take you away from him.

Satisfying your plea, he pushed in, stretching out your tight cunt with his girth. He grunted in pleasure as you engulfed him in your heat, burring his head in the crook of your neck. Your jaw slacked open as you felt his immense size enter you, feeling him in your stomach as he bottomed out. “F-fuck, princess. You feel amazing, s-so tight!” Choso complimented, conscious that he wasn’t going to last at all. Your pussy clenched deliciously around him, a sensation he had never felt before. He knew you’d understand.

“Oh, Choso! You’re so deep inside my pussy!” You managed to babble out, already feeling drunk on his cock. You grabbed onto his space buns, undoing them so you could see him with his hair down and what a great decision that was. This man was gorgeous, his long raven locks falling down his face, giving him a more rugged look. You couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips at just the mere sight of him.

Choso whimpered your name, ramming his cock deep inside you at a steady pace. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer, princess. I’m s-sorry.” He uttered out shakily, caressing your face lovingly. He started pumping his cock inside you at an inhuman speed feeling his orgasm approaching faster by the second.

“L-let me feel your cum inside me, Choso. Just like you said you wanted in your note!” Your words alone made him quiver out his orgasm with a loud groan of your name. He moaned, throwing his head back as your cunt milked his semen out of him, injecting it straight in your womb. You moaned enjoying the warm feeling of his spent filling you up. He continued thrusting erratically and sloppily, stilling inside you, wanting to feel the warmth of your pussy for a little longer.

“I love you so much.” He confessed breathlessly, keeping his head buried in your neck as he caught his breath, relishing the way your body molded into his perfectly. You were meant to be his. Deciding to finally pull out, he hissed as he watched your mixed juices drip out of your hole. This had been the best night of his entire life.

All thanks to you. ♡︎

#yandere #yandere choso #yandere choso kamo #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere choso x reader #yandere choso kamo x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk #yandere x reader #tw: dark content #stalker choso #dark choso #jjk smut #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen smut #creep choso #yandere tw

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moechies · 7 months

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toji + littl stepdaughter 🧁 tw dark content st3pcest, daddy

toji who hears little whines of his name coming from your bedroom when he comes back home from work.

your mother is missing, and it’s only him in the dimly lit living room of your shared home.

“toji.. to..ji..”

the noises are hard to make out, but the man’s senses are easily able to pick up the vowels of his name. therefore, he begins pacing himself upstairs towards your room.

he doesn’t bother to knock before twisting the doorknob open.. to reveal a sleepy little girl subconsciously crying out her stepdaddy’s name.

your room is illuminated by the small lamp next to your bed, and he assumes that you may have fallen asleep accidentally. you squirm slightly atop of your pastel pink sheets, holding tightly onto your plush with no intent of waking up at his intrusion.

“please..”

he smirks at your desperation, even unconscious you’re dreaming about him; how sweet.

“need.. it.. pleaseplease..”

“shit..” he mumbles with a light laugh,

he decides to climb atop of your bed, hovering above your body as he watches you. your lips turn into a frown, legs squirming underneath him with need. he pulls at your sheets, revealing your bare legs and sweet cunt only covered in a thin pair of cotton panties.

and that sweet trail of slick that seeps through from your cunt; just the sign he was looking for.

and when his gaze lowers for a second to readjust his pants, upon looking back up he finds you rubbing at your eyes with the back of your hand;

“mmf..”

“hey princess.” he smiles at you,

“daddy..!”

even in your hazy state, you still manage to throw your arms around him pulling the man into a tight hug, closing off the space between the both of you.

“i had a dream about you daddy!”

“mm, i know.” you pull away, looking into the face of the man,

“whaddya mean?! how would you know? i don’t even remember what it was about!”

“really?” the corners of his lips curl up further, now resembling a more so malicious smile,

“mhm.. wish i remembered, then i could tell you..” you pout and he chuckles again,

“daddy’ll make your dreams come true.”

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #dead dove do not eat #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x reader #dark content #tw dark content #tw.dark content #tw.stepcest #drabbles ⋆⑅˚₊

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novaursa · 29 days

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The Last Dragonslayer (1/2)

- Summary: When young Luke came to Storm’s End as his mother’s emissary, Aemond wasn't the only one there to greet the young Prince.

- Paring: female!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: Reader is a Dragonslayer (a warrior) that saves Rhaeyra's child and fights for her. This is based on the request below, with my own twist in it, and it's the result of the votes that ended yesterday:

- Rating: Mature 16+ (last part will be rated higher)

- Word count: 8 000+

- Next part: 2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: male!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen is currently under construction. It will be posted once the second part of this work is out. Also, for more of my works visit my blog.

The storm rages fiercely over Storm's End, the winds howling through the stone walls of the castle like a restless beast. You stand in the shadowed alcove, your eyes tracking the young prince as he dismounts from his dragon, Arrax. The creature’s scales gleam wet in the flickering torchlight, its eyes wide with agitation. The beast feels it, the looming presence of something much older and much deadlier. You know without looking that it is Vhagar, the monstrous she-dragon that casts her shadow over the stormy skies.

Lucerys Velaryon, the boy prince, has the look of a cornered deer as he glances around the courtyard, his gaze inevitably drawn to the dark silhouette of Vhagar looming ominously in the distance. His heart beats wildly in his chest, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The dragon he rides is no match for the ancient beast that waits, almost as if it hungers for the boy’s fear.

But it is not Vhagar that makes Arrax twitch nervously, shifting its massive claws on the slick stone ground. No, there is something else—another presence that unnerves both dragons. A primal fear ripples through the air, a fear that runs deeper than any rivalry between dragonriders.

You know what they feel. It is the Banshee, your mount, your companion. She lies in the caves beneath the castle, her leathery wings folded, her shriek an unspoken warning to all dragons that a Dragonslayer is near. You’ve ridden her across the skies of Essos, and now you have brought her to this cold, storm-battered land, a place so different from the sunlit shores of your origin.

As Lucerys is escorted into the great hall, you follow silently, a shadow among the guards, your steps barely a whisper against the stone. The hall is dimly lit, the flames flickering in their sconces as the storm rumbles outside. Lord Borros Baratheon sits upon his chair, his face a thundercloud of displeasure, while Aemond Targaryen stands off to the side, his single eye gleaming with malicious intent.

“Prince Lucerys Velaryon,” Borros announces with a voice as heavy as the storm, “sent by your mother, the Queen.”

Lucerys takes a breath, standing tall as he faces the Lord of Storm's End. His voice is steady as he presents his mother’s terms, but you can see the tremor in his hands, the boy struggling to maintain his composure under the weight of the situation.

Aemond steps forward, his presence dark and threatening, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “You’re a brave boy to come here alone, nephew,” he sneers, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword. “But bravery only goes so far. You owe me an eye.”

The demand hangs in the air like the threat of lightning. Lucerys’ eyes widen, his breath catching as the terror grips him. He steps back, his hand instinctively moving to his sword, though you can see he knows it is futile.

Aemond’s voice drips with venom as he draws closer, reaching for the sapphire in his empty eye socket. “Don’t be afraid, boy. It’s a simple thing, really. Just a payment for what was stolen from me.”

Your movement is like a shadow across the floor as you step out from your place against the wall, your boots making soft, deliberate sounds against the stone. Aemond’s attention snaps to you, curiosity flashing in his eye as he sees a figure unlike any other in this hall.

“Who are you?” Aemond demands, his voice tinged with both suspicion and interest. The hall seems to quiet, even the storm outside pausing as if to hear your reply.

Lord Borros rises from his chair, turning his gaze to you, and his expression is a mixture of awe and unease. “This is the emissary from the Free Cities,” he says, his voice uncertain. “She arrived a few days ago, from across the Narrow Sea. An emissary, she claimed, from an ancient order.”

You tilt your head slightly, regarding Aemond with those eyes of yours, eyes that many have said carry the weight of ancient knowledge, of secrets lost to time. When you speak, your accent is thick, your voice smooth, yet carrying a hardness beneath it, like a blade wrapped in silk. “The boy will return to his mother,” you state, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Aemond’s eye narrows, his curiosity turning to annoyance. “You think to order me around in my own land? I am a Targaryen, the blood of the dragon. And you—what are you?”

“I am Y/N,” you say simply, letting the name hang in the air, as though it should explain everything. And to those who know, it does. “And I have no interest in your games, dragonrider. The boy leaves. Now.”

Lucerys looks at you with wide eyes, relief and confusion mixing on his young face. He knows not who you are, nor why you would intercede on his behalf, but he knows better than to question the chance at survival you offer.

Aemond, however, is less easily swayed. “You do not command me, woman,” he snarls, his hand finally gripping his sword hilt.

Your eyes lock onto his, and there is a cold, ancient fury in your gaze that makes Aemond pause, just for a moment. “Do you hear that?” you ask softly, almost a whisper.

He frowns, confusion crossing his features. But then he does hear it—a low, keening wail, barely audible over the storm, but there nonetheless. It is a sound that twists something deep in his chest, a primal fear that is older than his bloodline, older than even the dragons themselves.

“That,” you continue, your voice never rising, yet commanding all attention, “is a Banshee’s call. Do you know what it means, dragonrider?”

Aemond doesn’t answer, his grip tightening on his sword. But you see it, the flicker of doubt in his eye, the instinctive fear that his ancestors would have known all too well.

“It means,” you say, taking a step closer to the prince, “that the Dragonslayers are near.”

Silence falls heavy in the hall, the only sound the storm raging outside and that distant, eerie wail of your mount. Aemond’s confidence wavers, just for a heartbeat, and you seize the moment.

“Return to your mother, boy,” you say to Lucerys, your tone softening slightly as you address the prince. “And tell her the Dragonslayers have not forgotten.”

Lucerys doesn’t hesitate. He turns and strides from the hall, the guards parting before him. Aemond watches him go, his eye flicking between you and the retreating prince, torn between pride and the icy fear that grips his heart.

As the doors close behind Lucerys, Aemond turns back to you, but you are already gone, melted back into the shadows of the storm. The Banshee’s wail echoes in his ears, a sound that will haunt him long after this night has passed.

And in the distance, through the storm and the dark, Lucerys Velaryon rides his dragon into the night, the words of a stranger echoing in his mind as he returns to his mother—a warning, a promise, and a name that will not be easily forgotten.

The storm's fury is unrelenting as Vhagar takes to the skies, her wings cutting through the tempest with the power of a creature that has lived through centuries. Beneath her, the world is a blur of rain and lightning, the roar of the wind nearly drowning out the beat of her wings. Aemond’s eye is fixed on the smaller silhouette ahead, the young prince Lucerys and his dragon, Arrax. His pride, his rage, they drive him forward with a singular, furious intent.

"Do you think you can escape me, boy?" Aemond mutters to himself, the thrill of the hunt coursing through his veins. His grip on the reins tightens as he urges Vhagar onward, the ancient beast responding to his will, her massive form gaining on the fleeing dragon.

But then, something shifts.

It begins with Vhagar. The she-dragon, who has known no fear in over a century, falters mid-flight. Her great head swivels, nostrils flaring as if sensing something that doesn’t belong in this world. A deep, rumbling growl escapes her throat, a sound of unease that Aemond has never heard from her before.

"What is it, girl?" Aemond calls out, his voice straining against the storm, frustration creeping in as Vhagar slows her pursuit. He yanks at the reins, but the dragon resists, her great body twisting in the air as if trying to turn away from something unseen.

Then it comes—a sound like no other. Piercing, shrill, it cuts through the storm with an unnatural clarity. A cry that chills the blood, a scream not of any living thing, but of something that should never have existed. Aemond feels it like a knife in his gut, a primal fear that shakes the core of even a Targaryen prince. Vhagar responds with a bellow of her own, but this is not a sound of defiance—it is one of terror.

Through the torrential rain and flashes of lightning, Aemond sees it. Emerging from the swirling clouds above, the Banshee appears, its form massive and menacing, a creature out of nightmares and ancient legends. It is larger than any dragon, its wings long and leathery, resembling those of some dark, twisted bat. Its body is sinewy and powerful, covered in scales as dark as midnight, its maw filled with razor-sharp teeth that seem made to tear through dragon flesh. Eyes that glow with a sickly green light fixate on Vhagar, and in that gaze, there is nothing but hunger.

A hunger that could swallow the world.

The Banshee shrieks again, and this time, the sound is closer, more intense, reverberating through the storm as if the very heavens themselves are crying out in fear. Vhagar roars back, but her voice wavers, no longer the dominant force of the skies. She tries to pull away, her vast wings beating furiously as she begins to ascend, desperate to escape the horror that has locked its gaze upon her.

And there, atop the Banshee, you sit. The storm whips around you, yet you are steady, your body moving fluidly with the creature’s every motion. Your eyes are fixed on Aemond, a cold determination set in your features as you close in. The distance between the two monstrous creatures shrinks with every heartbeat, the Banshee’s speed unnatural, as if it is not bound by the same laws of the world as other beings.

"Vhagar, no!" Aemond shouts, desperation creeping into his voice as he feels his mount’s fear, her once obedient nature slipping through his control. He pulls harder on the reins, but the ancient dragon does not heed him. She banks sharply to the side, attempting to flee, the instinct to survive overpowering all else.

"Stay and fight, damn you!" Aemond roars, but his voice is lost to the storm and to Vhagar’s terror. For the first time, Aemond realizes that he has lost control. Vhagar, the greatest of all dragons, is fleeing like a hunted beast.

From behind, Lucerys and Arrax, seeing their chance, dart downwards toward the safety of the clouds below. The boy doesn’t look back, but his heart pounds with both fear and gratitude, his only thought now of returning to Dragonstone and the safety of his mother’s arms. The storm swallows them, the smaller dragon vanishing into the darkness, seizing the slim opportunity for escape that has been granted by the terror you’ve unleashed.

You see this, the boy’s escape, and though you could chase, though you could end him as well, your focus remains on Aemond. This is a message, a warning, and it is Vhagar who must carry it back.

Aemond’s face twists with a mix of rage and helplessness as he feels Vhagar’s massive body turning, wings beating harder now, not in pursuit, but in retreat. You let out a command, your voice carried by the storm, not in words that Aemond understands, but the Banshee does. She dives, a predatory speed that belies her size, closing the distance between them in seconds.

Another scream from the Banshee, and this time, Vhagar shudders violently, nearly throwing Aemond from her back. The ancient dragon, who has seen countless battles and burned entire cities to ash, is utterly broken by the presence of this creature from a bygone era. She dives desperately, fleeing into the clouds, seeking any refuge from the horror that chases her.

For a brief moment, as you pull back, allowing Vhagar to escape into the storm’s embrace, your eyes meet Aemond’s. In that gaze, he sees something that shakes him more than the sight of the Banshee or the fear in Vhagar’s eyes. He sees the cold, unyielding power of an order thought extinct, a legacy that has returned from the shadows of history.

And then you and the Banshee vanish into the storm, your form melding with the darkness as if you were never there. Only the lingering echoes of that terrifying scream remain, fading into the storm, a sound that will haunt Aemond for the rest of his days.

Vhagar continues her frantic flight, the once-proud dragon now reduced to a fleeing beast, her rider clinging to her, his pride shattered, his mind reeling. Aemond’s thoughts are a whirlwind of anger, fear, and humiliation. He came to these skies with the intent to prove his dominance, to assert his strength, but now he returns with the bitter taste of defeat and the knowledge that there are forces in this world even dragons fear.

And far below, Lucerys and Arrax race through the storm towards the safety of Dragonstone, the boy’s heart pounding with relief and terror. He will make it home, but the memory of this night will stay with him—the night he was spared not by his own hand, but by a mysterious stranger on a creature of nightmares.

The Dragonslayers have returned. And the dragons of Westeros will never be the same.

The skies over Dragonstone are dark, heavy with the remnants of the storm that raged over Storm's End. The air is filled with unease as the guards and retainers of the castle stand vigilantly on the battlements, their eyes scanning the horizon. They know who they are waiting for, though they dare not speak of the dread that gnaws at them.

Suddenly, through the mists and rain, a shape emerges. A dragon, smaller than most, with wet and weary wings straining to keep it aloft. Arrax lands heavily in the courtyard, his scales slick with rain and his breath labored from the flight. The beast's eyes are wide, pupils darting in a way that betrays its fear.

Atop him, Lucerys Velaryon sits slumped in the saddle, his small form trembling, soaked to the bone. He barely has the strength to dismount, nearly collapsing as his boots touch the ground. His hands are shaking uncontrollably, and his eyes—those eyes that should be bright with the fire of youth—are wide and haunted, filled with the terror of what he has just endured.

From across the courtyard, Queen Rhaenyra breaks from her retinue of Queensguard, her heart seizing as she sees the state of her son. “Luke!” she cries, her voice cracking with fear and relief as she rushes to him, her skirts billowing as she nearly stumbles in her haste.

“Mother,” Lucerys gasps, his voice a whisper against the wind. He’s shivering violently, his teeth chattering as the cold and fear clutch at him.

Rhaenyra reaches him, wrapping him in her arms, her grip firm and protective as she pulls him close, heedless of the rain that soaks through her own clothing. Her heart pounds in her chest as she feels the tremors racking his small frame. “Gods, what happened?” she whispers, her hand cupping his face as she tries to meet his eyes, searching for any sign of injury, any indication of what has terrified her son so deeply.

Lucerys buries his face against her shoulder, his breath hitching as he tries to find the words. “I—I saw him, Mother,” he begins, his voice shaking as badly as his body. “Aemond was there… at Storm’s End. Vhagar was with him.”

Rhaenyra stiffens, her blood turning to ice at the mention of Aemond and his dragon. “Did he harm you?” Her voice is fierce, though a mother’s terror lies just beneath it. “What did he do to you?”

Lucerys shakes his head frantically, clutching at her arms as if grounding himself in her presence. “He… he wanted to take my eye, Mother. He said… he said it was a debt. But…” His words trail off, his breath catching as he struggles to explain the horror he witnessed.

Rhaenyra’s grip tightens, her eyes narrowing with a mixture of rage and fear. “But what, Luke? What happened?”

Luke pulls back slightly, his wide eyes meeting hers, filled with a confusion that mirrors his terror. “She… she saved me, Mother. A woman… a stranger. She stopped Aemond.”

Rhaenyra blinks, her mind racing. “A woman? Who was she? What did she look like?”

Luke swallows hard, his voice trembling as he continues, “She… she wasn’t from here. She looked… different. Like no one I’ve ever seen before. She had an accent I didn’t recognize. Lord Borros called her an emissary from the Free Cities.” His voice drops to a whisper, as if saying the next words might summon the creature back. “And she had a… a beast with her. Not a dragon, but something else. It was… it was terrifying, Mother. The dragons, even Vhagar… they were afraid of it.”

Rhaenyra’s heart pounds faster as she listens, trying to make sense of her son’s words. “A beast? What did it look like?”

Luke’s eyes glaze over slightly as he recalls the image burned into his mind. “It was… huge, bigger than any dragon I’ve seen, with wings like… like a bat’s. And its scream, Mother… it was like nothing I’ve ever heard. It made the storm itself seem quiet. And she was riding it… commanding it.”

Rhaenyra’s blood runs cold, her mind racing through the possibilities, but nothing matches the description her son gives. A creature that could frighten Vhagar, the largest and oldest of the Targaryen dragons? It sounds like a nightmare given form, a horror from ancient times.

“Are you sure of what you saw, Luke?” she asks gently, her tone softening as she brushes his wet hair from his face. “Could it have been… something else? A trick of the storm?”

Luke shakes his head vehemently. “No, Mother. I saw it. I heard it. She told me to go, to return to you. And when I left… Aemond was chasing me, but then the creature came after him instead. Vhagar fled, Mother. She was terrified.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes widen, a shiver running down her spine at the thought. If Vhagar, the mightiest of all dragons, could be driven to flee… what manner of beast had her son encountered? And who was this woman, this stranger who had saved her child from a fate worse than death?

A feeling of unease settles over her, a realization that something far greater and more dangerous than she had anticipated is at play. The knowledge that ancient powers, long thought to be myths, might have returned to the world shakes her to her core.

But for now, all that matters is her son. She pulls him close again, holding him tightly as if to shield him from whatever darkness lies out there, whatever force has set its sights on the Targaryen bloodline. “You’re safe now,” she whispers, trying to convince herself as much as him. “You’re home, and you’re safe.”

But even as she says the words, her mind is already racing ahead, planning, fearing, wondering what this new player on the board means for the future of her house, for her claim, and for the survival of her children.

The night is still and heavy with the remnants of the storm, the winds howling softly through the dark corridors of Dragonstone. Rhaenyra is deep in a restless sleep, her mind troubled by the events of the day, her dreams haunted by the image of her son, drenched and trembling, speaking of a beast that defied all she knew of the world.

But suddenly, her sleep is shattered by a sound so primal, so raw, that it feels like the earth itself is tearing apart. The roar of dragons, rising in a cacophony of fear and fury, echoes through the stone walls of the castle. It’s not just any dragon’s roar—it’s the sound of dragons in terror. Rhaenyra bolts upright in her bed, her heart pounding in her chest as the walls seem to tremble around her.

She hears another roar, louder this time, unmistakable in its ferocity—the Cannibal. The ancient, wild dragon’s scream is so powerful that it seems to shake the very foundations of Dragonstone. The deep, guttural sound reverberates through the castle, making the torches flicker as if the flame itself is afraid.

And then, cutting through the night like a blade, comes another sound—a wail, high-pitched and unnatural, unlike anything she’s ever heard. It’s the cry of the Banshee, echoing through the skies above the island, a sound so filled with dread that it makes her blood run cold.

Rhaenyra leaps from her bed, pulling on a robe as she rushes toward the door. Her heart races, a mix of fear and adrenaline driving her forward. She flings open the door, her voice breaking the silence of the corridor. “Daemon!”

As if summoned by her cry, Daemon Targaryen appears, already dressed and armed, his face set in a grim expression. He doesn’t need to ask what’s happening—the screams of the dragons and the wail from the skies tell him all he needs to know.

“They’re afraid,” Daemon says, his voice rough with tension as he strides toward her, his eyes blazing. “The dragons are terrified, Rhaenyra. Whatever it is, it’s here.”

Rhaenyra nods, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she hurries to follow him. The two of them rush through the castle, Daemon’s men falling in around them, their faces pale as they hear the screams that fill the night. The ground beneath their feet seems to tremble as if the very earth is trying to recoil from the presence that has arrived on its shores.

They reach the courtyard just as another roar shakes the air, but this time it’s different. This time, it’s a sound of submission, of retreat. In the distance, high atop Dragonmont, the dragons that make their home in the ancient volcano are pulling back, their massive forms retreating into the dark, smoke-filled caves, away from the open sky. Even the Cannibal, the most feared and untamed of all the dragons, has gone silent, its defiance turned to fear.

Rhaenyra’s eyes follow the direction of the retreating dragons, and there, near the rocky coastline, she sees it—the Banshee. It stands on the blackened sand, its vast wings partially spread, casting an ominous shadow that stretches out over the churning waves. The creature is even more terrifying than she had imagined from Lucerys’ description, a monstrous form that seems to absorb the darkness around it, its eyes glowing with that sickly green light that cuts through the night.

And before the Banshee, standing with an air of calm command, is the woman—Y/N. She stands tall, her presence as formidable as the beast behind her, her eyes fixed on the castle. Even from this distance, Rhaenyra can see the confidence in her stance, the ease with which she controls the horror at her side.

Daemon’s hand moves to the hilt of his sword as he stares at the woman and her beast, his eyes narrowing in a mix of fury and awe. “Is this the creature the boy spoke of?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

Rhaenyra nods, unable to tear her gaze from the sight. “It is,” she whispers, her voice tinged with fear and a growing sense of foreboding. “And that… that is the woman who saved him.”

Daemon takes a step forward, his gaze shifting to Caraxes, who is visible in the distance, his great head peeking out from the entrance of his cave. The Blood Wyrm, who has faced down dragons and men alike, recoils, his body pressed low to the ground as if trying to melt into the rock itself. He refuses to come forward, his instincts telling him that this is not a foe he wishes to face.

Rhaenyra watches as Daemon's knuckles turn white around the hilt of his sword. “Even Caraxes is afraid,” he mutters, almost to himself. “What manner of beast is this? And who is this woman?”

Before Rhaenyra can respond, Y/N takes a step forward, moving with a grace that belies the danger she embodies. Her voice carries across the distance, strong and clear despite the howling wind. “I come not as an enemy, but as an emissary.”

Rhaenyra feels a shiver run down her spine at the sound of the woman’s voice. There is something in it, an authority, a power that feels ancient, something that commands respect and fear in equal measure. She steps forward, placing a hand on Daemon’s arm to still him, her eyes never leaving Y/N.

“You saved my son,” Rhaenyra calls out, her voice steady, though her heart is pounding in her chest. “Why?”

Y/N’s gaze meets hers, and for a moment, Rhaenyra feels as though she’s being weighed, measured by a force that sees far beyond the physical. “Because the time has come for old debts to be paid, and old alliances to be rekindled,” Y/N replies, her accent unfamiliar, each word carrying an air of inevitability.

Daemon steps forward, his posture rigid, every muscle coiled with tension. “What are you?” he demands, his tone edged with suspicion. “And what do you want from us?”

Y/N regards him calmly, her eyes as unreadable as the stormy sea behind her. “I am the last of the Dragonslayers,” she says, her words cutting through the air like a blade. “And I seek what was lost to time—an alliance, forged in blood and fire, that will reshape the fate of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Rhaenyra’s breath catches at the mention of the Dragonslayers. The name is one of legend, spoken of only in whispers, a myth more than a reality. Yet here stands proof, undeniable and terrifying. “An alliance?” she echoes, her voice a mix of intrigue and caution. “With whom?”

Y/N’s gaze sharpens, and a ghost of a smile touches her lips. “With House Targaryen,” she says, the name carrying weight as if it alone could alter the course of history. “If you will accept it.”

The words hang in the air, filled with promise and threat alike. Rhaenyra and Daemon exchange a look, the gravity of what is being offered sinking in. The roar of the dragons has died away, leaving only the sound of the wind and the waves crashing against the rocks.

The Banshee shifts behind Y/N, its wings rustling like the ominous whisper of death itself. Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, stepping forward, her voice firm as she speaks. “Come inside,” she says, a queen’s command, but also an invitation. “We will speak more.”

Y/N inclines her head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment, before turning to her beast. With a simple, fluid motion, she mounts the Banshee, the creature responding to her touch with a soft, almost affectionate growl. “I will come,” she says, her voice carrying across the distance. “But know this, Queen Rhaenyra—what I bring is not just an alliance, but the power to change the very destiny of your house.”

With that, the Banshee lets out one last, bone-chilling wail that echoes across the island. The creature takes to the skies, its massive wings beating against the wind as it rises into the air, carrying its rider away from the shore and into the stormy night.

Rhaenyra watches as the dark silhouette disappears into the clouds, her mind racing with a thousand questions, her heart heavy with the knowledge that whatever comes next, it will be like nothing Westeros has ever seen.

Daemon stands beside her, his eyes still fixed on the sky where the Banshee vanished. “We must be ready,” he says quietly, his voice laced with both determination and unease. “Whatever she brings, it will not be easily controlled.”

Rhaenyra nods, her gaze steely as she turns back toward the castle, already thinking of the steps she must take, the alliances she must forge, and the preparations she must make. “Then we shall be ready,” she replies, her voice firm with resolve. “For House Targaryen will not be brought low, not by dragons, and not by beasts.”

Together, they walk back into the heart of Dragonstone, the weight of their decisions pressing heavily upon them, the storm outside now a mere whisper compared to the storm that is yet to come.

The great hall of Dragonstone is eerily quiet, the only sound the occasional crackle of the fire in the hearth, its flames dancing in the dim light. The storm outside has settled into a steady, rhythmic beat against the stone walls, as if the very island holds its breath, waiting for what comes next.

Daemon Targaryen stands by the fire, his eyes fixed on the flames, deep in thought. The warmth of the fire does little to chase away the cold unease that has settled in his bones since the arrival of the stranger and her beast. Rhaenyra sits at the head of the table, her posture regal and composed, though her gaze is sharp and searching as it rests on the woman before them—Y/N, the self-proclaimed last of the Dragonslayers.

You stand before them, calm and composed, the flickering firelight casting shadows across your face. Your expression is inscrutable, your eyes reflecting a depth of experience and knowledge that stretches far beyond the walls of this ancient castle.

Daemon finally speaks, his voice low, but filled with the weight of old memories. “When I was a boy, I used to sit at my wet nurse’s feet as she told me the tales of old Valyria. Stories of dragons soaring above the world, of their might and majesty… and of the terror that once threatened them.” He turns his gaze from the fire to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “She spoke of the Dragonslayers, warriors from an ancient order, born from the fear and hatred of those who had no other means to fight back against the dragons. It was said their beasts were as fearsome as the dragons themselves—monstrous creatures that could strike terror into the heart of even the most battle-hardened Targaryen.”

He pauses, his lips curving into a wry smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “But those were just stories. Tales meant to frighten children and remind us of our place in the world. When the Doom of Valyria came, the Dragonslayers were said to have perished along with the dragons. Swallowed by the same flames that consumed the Freehold.”

Daemon’s smile fades, replaced by a hard, calculating look. “So you must excuse me, Lady Y/N, if I find it difficult to believe that I now stand face to face with a ghost from those old tales. A Dragonslayer, here to negotiate with the very people her kind once hunted. It seems… unlikely, doesn’t it? Like a dragon holding court with a woman who eats dragons.”

Rhaenyra watches you intently, her fingers lightly drumming against the arm of her chair as she waits for your response. The tension in the room is felt, the air thick with unspoken questions and unvoiced fears.

You meet Daemon’s gaze without flinching, your expression unreadable as you consider his words. When you finally speak, your voice is steady, carrying an authority that demands attention. “You are right to be cautious, Prince Daemon. The tales of the Dragonslayers are shrouded in myth, and much has been lost to time. But make no mistake—those tales were born from truth. My order existed long before Valyria rose to power, and our purpose was never simply to destroy dragons.”

You pause, your eyes flicking between Daemon and Rhaenyra, measuring their reactions. “Our purpose was—and still is—balance. The world must be in balance, or it risks falling into chaos. The dragons of Valyria were a force of nature, powerful and wild. But when they were allowed to spread unchecked, to conquer and dominate, the balance was threatened.”

Rhaenyra leans forward slightly, her brow furrowed in thought. “And now? What is your purpose here, in Westeros? You say you seek balance, but what does that mean for my house? For my children?”

You turn your gaze to her, your expression softening slightly as you consider your words carefully. “The balance is delicate, Queen Rhaenyra. It is not my intention to see the dragons of Westeros wiped out. That would tip the scales too far in the other direction. The dragons are a part of this world, just as you are, just as I am. But if they are allowed to overwhelm this continent, to destroy all in their path, or if they are allowed to die out entirely, the balance will be lost. And when the balance is lost, it is not just the dragons that suffer—it is the entire world.”

Daemon’s eyes narrow as he considers your words, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, though he makes no move to draw it. “So you would see yourself as some kind of guardian, then? A protector of the balance? And what if that means turning against the very dragons you claim to protect?”

You meet his challenge with a steady gaze. “If it comes to that, Prince Daemon, then so be it. But understand this—my purpose is not to hunt dragons for sport or to seek vengeance for old wrongs. My purpose is to ensure that the world does not fall into chaos. If that means working with the dragons and their riders to maintain the balance, then that is what I will do.”

Rhaenyra exchanges a glance with Daemon, her expression one of deep contemplation. “And what would you ask of us, then?” she inquires, her tone thoughtful, though there is a note of steel beneath it. “What role do you see House Targaryen playing in this balance you speak of?”

You take a deep breath, your gaze steady as you address both of them. “House Targaryen is at the center of the storm that is coming. The dragons you command are both a weapon and a symbol, and their power must be wielded wisely. I offer you an alliance, a way to ensure that power is used to preserve the balance, rather than disrupt it.”

Daemon raises an eyebrow, his skepticism still evident. “And if we refuse?”

You smile faintly, a hint of something ancient and knowing in your expression. “Then the balance will be lost. And I will do what must be done to restore it, with or without your cooperation.”

Silence falls over the room, the weight of your words sinking in. Rhaenyra’s eyes flicker with a mix of emotions—fear, determination, and something akin to respect. She finally rises from her chair, stepping toward you, her gaze unwavering.

“You speak of balance, but know this—we are not easily swayed, and we do not take threats lightly,” she says, her voice strong and clear. “But if you are truly here to preserve this balance, then we will consider your offer. For the sake of our children, and for the future of this realm.”

You incline your head slightly, acknowledging her words. “That is all I ask, Queen Rhaenyra. Consider my offer, and know that I am not your enemy. Not unless you make me one.”

Daemon watches you closely, his hand still resting on his sword, but for now, he remains silent, his thoughts unreadable.

Rhaenyra turns to him, her expression one of quiet resolve. “We will speak more of this, Daemon. But for now, we must be cautious. This alliance may be what we need to ensure the survival of our house.”

Daemon nods slowly, his gaze still locked on you. “Very well,” he says, his voice low and thoughtful. “But know this, Lady Y/N—if you betray us, if you threaten what is ours, you will find that dragons are not so easily tamed.”

You smile slightly, a knowing glint in your eyes. “Nor are Dragonslayers, Prince Daemon. But I hope it does not come to that.”

With that, the tension in the room begins to ease, though the underlying unease remains. The fire crackles softly in the hearth, and the storm outside continues to rage, a reminder that the true storm has only just begun.

The night has settled over Dragonstone with a profound stillness, the earlier storm having finally exhausted itself. The air is cool and crisp, carrying the scent of the sea, and above, the sky is a vast canvas of stars, twinkling like distant, forgotten fires. The castle itself is quiet, the flames of the torches flickering softly in their sconces, casting long shadows across the ancient stone.

Rhaenyra finds herself drawn to the open balcony, her steps light as she moves through the corridors, her thoughts still heavy with the weight of the day’s revelations. As she approaches, she sees you standing there, your back to her, gazing up at the night sky with a stillness that almost seems inhuman. The soft light of the stars bathes you in an ethereal glow, and for a moment, Rhaenyra is struck by your presence. There is something otherworldly about you, a beauty that is both mesmerizing and unsettling, even to one of Targaryen blood, who is no stranger to the idea of beings who are not entirely of this world.

Your figure is tall and graceful, your hair catching the faint light as it moves gently in the breeze. Your clothes, simple yet elegant, seem almost to blend with the shadows, as if you are a part of the night itself. There is an air of timelessness about you, something ancient and enduring, and it stirs a deep curiosity within Rhaenyra, a need to understand the enigma that is Y/N.

You speak before she can announce her presence, your voice soft but clear, carrying the weight of knowledge and memory. “It is said that my people came from those stars,” you begin, still gazing upward, your eyes tracing the patterns in the sky. “Long ago, when the world was young, their ship crumbled down in fire, crashing into what would become the Valyrian Freehold. Can you imagine it, Rhaenyra? A ship that sails among the stars, crossing the vast emptiness between worlds?”

Rhaenyra pauses at your words, her breath catching as she considers the image you’ve painted. The idea is both wondrous and terrifying, something beyond the scope of anything she has ever known. She steps closer, her eyes moving from your figure to the sky above, trying to see what you see.

“It’s a beautiful thought,” she says softly, “but also a frightening one. The idea that something so vast, so unknowable, could exist out there. Or worse, that there might be nothing at all. We would be so small… so insignificant.”

You finally turn to face her, your eyes meeting hers with a look that is both kind and ancient, as if you hold secrets that span the ages. “That is the truth of it, isn’t it? The vastness of the universe, the endless expanse of stars… it can make one feel so very small. All the battles we fight, all the kingdoms we build… in the end, they are but whispers in the wind compared to the forces that drive this world and all the others.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze softens as she looks at you, the intensity of your words resonating deep within her. She takes another step closer, her voice tinged with gratitude as she speaks. “I wanted to thank you… for what you did for Lucerys. You saved my son’s life. For that, I am in your debt.”

You incline your head slightly, acknowledging her thanks with a faint smile. “What I did was just,” you reply simply, as if there could be no other course of action. “The boy’s life was not meant to end that day.”

Rhaenyra studies you, her curiosity growing, fueled by the mysteriousness that surrounds you. She has faced dragons and men alike, but there is something about you that captivates her in a way she does not fully understand. “You said you were the last of your kind,” she begins, her voice gentle but probing. “Does that mean you have no family left?”

You turn back to the sky, your expression unreadable as you consider her question. “There are a few others of my order,” you say after a moment, your voice touched with a hint of melancholy. “They are scattered across the world, trying to survive as best they can. But they are not of my blood. My true family… they are gone.”

Rhaenyra feels a pang of sympathy at your words, a sudden connection to the pain you carry. She knows the weight of loss, the emptiness it leaves behind. “I am sorry,” she says quietly, her voice filled with genuine compassion. “To be the last of your kind… it must be a heavy burden.”

You nod slightly, your gaze distant as you continue to stare at the stars. “It is,” you admit, your voice softening with the weight of memory. “But it is the burden I was born to bear. The last of my bloodline, the last of those who once stood against the might of dragons. My family was everything to me… and now, they are nothing but memories and dust.”

Rhaenyra steps closer, standing beside you now, her gaze also turning upward to the stars. She feels a strange sense of kinship with you, this woman who has seen so much, who carries so much pain within her. “I understand what it is to lose those you love,” she says quietly, her voice filled with a sadness that mirrors your own. “I have lost many, and I fear I may lose more before this is over.”

You turn to her, your eyes searching hers, seeing the strength and sorrow within her. “That is the way of the world, Rhaenyra,” you say softly, your tone both comforting and resigned. “We are all bound by the same fate—loss, pain, and eventually, death. But it is what we do with the time we have, the choices we make, that define us. We must find the strength to carry on, even when all seems lost.”

Rhaenyra nods, her heart heavy with the truth of your words. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, to find the resolve she needs to face the challenges ahead. “I will do what I must,” she says, her voice filled with quiet determination. “For my family, for my children… for the future of this realm.”

You give her a small, understanding smile, a flicker of something almost like pride in your eyes. “You have the strength within you, Rhaenyra Targaryen,” you say, your voice firm with conviction. “I see it, just as I see the stars above. You are meant to be more than a queen—you are meant to be a force that shapes the world.”

Rhaenyra feels a surge of emotion at your words, a mix of fear, hope, and a deep, unspoken bond with this woman who seems to understand her better than anyone. She looks back at you, her gaze filled with both gratitude and a growing respect. “And what of you, Y/N?” she asks softly. “What is your place in this world, now that you are the last of your kind?”

You turn away from the stars to meet her gaze once more, your expression resolute. “My place is wherever I am needed,” you say simply. “I will do what must be done to preserve the balance, to ensure that this world does not fall into chaos. Whether that means standing beside you, or against you, remains to be seen.”

Rhaenyra nods slowly, understanding the gravity of your words. She feels a deep respect for you, for the strength and resolve you carry, and she knows that your path and hers are now intertwined, whether by fate or by choice.

For a moment, the two of you stand together in silence, gazing up at the stars, each lost in your own thoughts, yet connected by the shared understanding of the burdens you bear. The night is a vast and heavy dread of what lies ahead, but in this moment, there is a sense of calm, of quiet resolution, as if the stars themselves have blessed this fragile alliance.

The morning sun has risen over Dragonstone, casting a warm, golden glow across the ancient stone walls and the restless sea beyond. The storm of the previous night has left the air fresh and crisp, with only a few lingering clouds on the horizon. The castle is stirring with life, as servants go about their duties and the guards stand watchful at their posts.

You are standing in the courtyard, the early light catching in your hair, giving it a strange, almost ethereal sheen. You are calm, composed, your posture relaxed as you watch the sea, seemingly lost in thought. The events of the previous night, the tension, and the conversations have left their mark, but you show no outward sign of it. You stand there, a figure of quiet strength, almost as if you belong to another time, another world.

Luke approaches you cautiously, his small feet making soft sounds against the stone. He is dressed in simple, practical clothing, appropriate for the heir of a noble house, but his expression is one of nervousness and gratitude. His young face is still pale from the fear of his encounter at Storm's End, but there is also determination in his eyes, a resolve to confront what haunts him.

He stops a few paces away from you, hesitant at first. “Lady Y/N,” he begins, his voice small but earnest. “I… I wanted to thank you. For what you did at Storm’s End. You saved my life.”

You turn to him, a gentle smile curving your lips as you look down at the boy. There is a kindness in your eyes that seems to ease his nerves, though the depth of your gaze still holds a mystery that he cannot quite grasp. “You owe me no thanks, young prince,” you say softly, your voice steady and warm. “I did what was just.”

Luke swallows, glancing down at the ground for a moment before looking back up at you. “But… Aemond,” he continues, his voice trembling slightly at the name. “He won’t forget what you did. He’ll come after you. He won’t stop until… until he gets what he wants.”

You regard him with calm assurance, unbothered by the warning. There is a quiet power in the way you stand, as if the threats of men and dragons alike hold no sway over you. “Let him come,” you reply, your tone even, as if discussing something as mundane as the weather. “Aemond Targaryen is not the first to seek revenge against me, nor will he be the last. I have faced dragons before, and I have survived them. If he wishes to challenge me, then he will learn that some battles are not so easily won.”

Luke looks at you with a mixture of awe and confusion, struggling to understand the depth of your confidence. He is young, and the world is still a place of fear and uncertainty to him, but your words carry a weight that he cannot ignore. “But… aren’t you afraid?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tilt your head slightly, considering the question with a faint smile. “Fear is a natural thing, young prince,” you say gently. “But I have learned that there are things far greater and more terrifying than a man or his dragon. We are all small in the grand scheme of things, and what we fear today may be forgotten tomorrow. What matters is how we face that fear—whether we let it control us, or whether we rise above it.”

Luke nods slowly, taking in your words. There is a wisdom in them that speaks to him, even if he doesn’t fully understand it yet. He looks up at you with a newfound respect, feeling a little braver, a little stronger in your presence. “I’ll remember that,” he says softly, his voice filled with a quiet determination.

As you and Luke speak, Rhaenyra watches from a distance, her eyes flicking toward you every so often. She stands near one of the arches that lead out to the courtyard, her gaze following the interaction between you and her son. There is something in the way she observes you—a mixture of curiosity, admiration, and perhaps a touch of something more that she doesn’t fully acknowledge, even to herself.

Rhaenyra notices the ease with which you speak to Luke, the way your presence seems to calm him, to give him strength. There is a grace in your movements, a calm assurance that draws her attention, almost as if you are a beacon of light in the chaos that surrounds them all. She sees the way Luke looks up at you, his young face filled with awe, and she cannot help but feel the same pull, the same captivation.

She remembers the conversation from the night before, the way you spoke of balance, of the vastness of the universe and the insignificance of their struggles in the grand scheme of things. It had left her feeling both humbled and intrigued, as if she were standing on the edge of some great revelation, something that could change everything she thought she knew.

But now, as she watches you with her son, she sees another side of you—a protector, a guide, someone who understands the fears of a boy and can ease them with nothing more than a few well-chosen words. It is a quality that Rhaenyra cannot help but admire, and it deepens the connection she feels toward you, a bond that is growing stronger with each passing moment.

Luke takes a deep breath, standing a little taller now as he looks up at you. “Thank you, Lady Y/N,” he says, his voice more confident this time. “For everything.”

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “You are a brave young man, Luke. Never forget that. The world is a dangerous place, but you have the strength within you to face whatever comes. Trust in that.”

Luke smiles, a small, genuine smile that lights up his face, and then he turns to go, feeling a little more at peace with the world. As he walks away, he glances back at you one last time, as if to hold onto the strength you have given him.

Rhaenyra steps forward as Luke leaves, approaching you with a mixture of caution and curiosity. “He admires you,” she says softly, her voice carrying a note of gratitude and something more, something she does not name.

You turn to her, your expression thoughtful as you meet her gaze. “He is a good boy,” you reply. “He will grow into a strong man, one who will carry the weight of his name with honor. But he is still young, and the world is full of challenges he has yet to face.”

Rhaenyra nods, her eyes lingering on your face, taking in the details of your features, the way the light plays across your skin. There is something almost hypnotic about you, something that draws her in, and she finds herself feeling a connection that she cannot fully explain. “I can see why he admires you,” she says softly, her voice tinged with both respect and something deeper, something that stirs within her like the rising tide.

You hold her gaze, your expression unreadable, but there is a softness in your eyes, a recognition of the connection that is forming between the two of you. “And I can see why you care for him so deeply,” you reply, your voice gentle, almost tender. “He is your son, your legacy. You have given him strength, Rhaenyra, just as you will need to give him guidance in the days to come.”

Rhaenyra nods again, feeling a surge of emotion at your words. There is a bond forming between you, something that goes beyond mere friendship or alliance. It is a connection born of shared understanding, of mutual respect, and perhaps even of something more, something that neither of you is ready to name just yet.

For a moment, the two of you stand there in the courtyard, the world around you falling away as you share a quiet, unspoken understanding. The sun continues to rise, casting its golden light across the castle, and in that light, the bond between you and Rhaenyra grows stronger, deepening with every passing moment.

And in the distance, the sea continues to churn, its waves crashing against the shore, a reminder that the world is vast and full of challenges. But in this moment, on this morning, there is peace, and there is a connection.

#hotd rhaenyra #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x female reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #rhaenyra x y/n #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x female reader #rhaenyra targaryen

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sugarlywhispers · 1 month

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b.katsuki x reader (fem)

a.n; i blame this completely over the Olympics, again. sorry, but it has me on chokehold and i'm not resisting against it LOL 😜

Okay, hear me out...

Third date with Bakugou Katsuki.

The first one, of course, was very awkward and tense and sometimes even a bit worrisome. We are talking about dating Bakugou Katsuki, the one aggressive and violent Pro Hero that everybody has a hate-love feeling towards for; because the man looks and acts –and can– step on your head and crush it with malicious intent and yet, he's Nº 2 Pro Hero on the ranks and you just know that if he's around, you are completely safe. But he's big and tough and harsh in his talking and walking –how can anyone look that scary by just walking, you're still wondering, but it's real. He's fucking scary.

The second date was way more relaxed. He cooked for you. In his massive penthouse that probably costs more than your annual salary. Yep, morherfucker is rich rich. And you think he deserves it really. After all the troubles he goes through to keep the whole country safe –and even the world–, he completely deserves it. You just forgot how well he does his job to get to be that rich. You don't care about money though. You're dating him because you saw him helping a granny cross the street and that was the cutest thing you ever saw. So, back to the second date, he cooked for you, and damn... now you can say you'll keep dating him because of his food. Man cooks like the gods, like a fucking professional chef of the most expensive restaurant on earth. And also, you noticed how relaxed and in peace he looked in his own environment and he looked. So. Freaking. Attractive. Hot even. He looked just so... deliciously handsome.

So for the third date, and because he picked the second one, this one was of your choice. You decide to go ice skating. And you did not expect what happened at all.

One would expect that Pro Hero Dynamight, civilian name Bakugou Katsuki, being who he is, would have exceptional balance and even a hidden talent for this. You’re wrong. Everyone is wrong. The second the blades of his skates touched the Ice Rink, he fell. Your eyes opened wide and you definitely were holding back your laugh as he struggled to get himself up by holding the handrail around the rink.

“Need some help?” You asked, getting close to him with no trouble at all. He looked up at you annoyed, struggling so hard to get up and keep his balance that his cheeks turned pink. How. Freaking. Cute. You’re glad that dating the Pro Hero came with its perks –like closing the whole rink just so only you and him are there, enjoying your date on a late wednesday night.

“Shut up. No, I can do it…” He declared, but another fall on his knees made you giggle while sliding backwards and away from him with ease, hands up in surrender. Katsuki looked at you once his stood for the nth time holding the handrail like dear life with a frown on his face, watching you how easy you made it look, “How the fuck are you doing that?”

You giggled again, amused by all of this situation. Sliding back towards him and extending your hands, you said, “Come one, let me help.”

Katsuki buffed but he placed his hands on yours, whole body trembling, barely holding himself up. The image of him sticking his ass up and body bending forward while his feet barely moved made you laugh out loud and he yelled another “shut up!”.

You changed your grip to his forearms and again slid backwards to make him move forward, his legs still trembling and his eyes never leaving the floor. He looked so cute, it made your heart flutter. The smile never left your face as you spoke again, “I used to skate a lot when I was younger. I even prepared myself to compete, but an injury put me out of the game.”

He immediately looked back at you at your words, “What happened?” He looked curious, but also worried and kind of sad.

You shrugged, “I landed pretty badly over my right leg after a spinning jump once. After that, the shin splints became unbearable and I couldn't continue…”

He looked down at your leg, watching you move attentively, “Does it hurt now?”

You shook your head and smiled at him, grateful for his worry, “Naah. It would only hurt badly if I tried to skate the way I used to… Guess I demanded a lot of myself back then.”

Katsuki didn’t comment further on, but he kept his attention on your leg. Didn’t that make him even cuter!

It took you a while –long while– to finally be able to let go of one of his forearms once he was ready on his balance; his other hand still held yours strongly.

Time went by, both of you laughing and smiling while skating around the rink, hand in hand. You’re so happy that you could stand on the ice again. It brought you so many fond memories of when you were a kid. Skating was the only thing that could easily make you smile just because; the wind in your face made you feel free, content. and Katsuki could clearly see that.

For a moment, he got distracted by how beautiful you looked… and he lost his balance again. This time bringing you down with him. He was fast enough though to catch you and make you land over him. Your amused and loud laugh was contagious, so he couldn’t help but smile. He's having fun –even if he knew his body was going to hurt a bit the next day for how many falls he had.

“You’re so clumsy…” You laughed, joking kindly and funny.

“Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you show me what you can do?” His smirk made you suddenly stop laughing. It’s a clear challenge, yet curiosity shined in his eyes.

“Alright, hero… watch and learn,” you helped him stand up and directed him towards the handrail.

Once he was away from possible harm, Katsuki watched you skate around the rink as if you were flying, gliding around with so much confidence and ease, as if you were made for it. Your hair floating behind you for how fast you were going, dancing beautifully with the air. He was hypnotized. Completely mesmerized by each little form you decided to enlighten him with. He particularly felt fascinated when you decided to spin fast and so many times he couldn’t count how many, then you stopped like it had been nothing and kept gliding around.

You looked so nice and professional, Katsuki felt a little pang of pity for the world. It would never be able to share how beautifully perfect you looked at the moment.

A few more glides around, until you stopped in a very experienced way right in front of him, a huge smile on your face and a shine on your eyes that were proof of how immensely excited and happy you felt.

Did katsuki say already how fucking beautiful you were?

Just to prove his point, he instantly grabbed your face and kissed you for the very first time.

And fuck, he planned on keep kissing you as much as you would let him.

He let you go for a moment just to say, “That was beautiful… You’re gorgeous.”

You smiled one more time before sliding your arms around his neck to kiss him again. He moved a bit to surround your waist with his arms…

And that’s when he forgot about the handrail and sent you both again towards the floor.

#also i keep imagining when you both go back to your apartment #cuz of course you're invinting him over to eat something even though is already very late into the night #and unfortunately you do feel the shin of your right leg bother you a bit #so when you sit on your couch and rub against it #it doesn't go unnoticed by katsuki #so he sits next to you #brings your legs up over his lap and starts massaging them #especially the one that bothers you #it def brings kinky time 😏#DO I HAVE TO SAY MORE???#PLS STOP ME OR I'LL KEEP ON RAMBLINGGGG #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou x reader #mha bakugo katsuki #mha drabbles #mha imagines #mha fluff #mha scenarios #mha x reader #mha x you #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha fluff #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios

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pellucid-constellations · 9 months

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Last updated September 22nd, 2024

Drabble masterlist here <3

⁂ Azriel ⁂

→ Multi-Part Series/Oneshots

∙ Of Oblivious Minds (Part I)

You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Part II, Part III, Part IV

∙ If It All Fell (Series Masterlist)

If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

∙ Compliments to the Line Cook

Azriel never goes for any of the girls on staff. Cassian can't figure out why—and it's pissing him off. (Modern AU, Line Cook!Azriel)

∙ Favoritism Azriel always seems to be working. Well, not always. Sometimes he's on the phone outside the restaurant with a massive smile on his face. (Modern AU, Line Cook!Azriel) ∙ Lessons in Care Azriel loves you so much. Even though you can't cook. You're trying though. (Modern AU, Line Cook!Azriel)

∙ Trial and Error (Part I)

Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V -> Part V Bonus, Part VI

→ Standalone Oneshots

∙ Only in Dreams

In his dreams, Azriel recounts how he got to his mate.

∙ Reversal

When protecting your mate brings out a side you swore to keep hidden, you have to deal with the consequences.

∙ Set in Stone

The Court of Nightmares is an evil place. Secret agendas, forced marriages, malicious intent; there’s nothing good or pure. But then Azriel finds you.

∙All Over Again

You're drunk. Your mate is trying to get you home. Only problem is—you're really, really drunk.

∙ By the Book

Azriel is struggling to catch the attention of his mate. Cassian offers him some advice, but "putting the moves on you" is harder than it seems, especially since he's not a character in one of Nesta's novels.

∙ To Feel At Home

Winnowing out from Under the Mountain, you know you need to find him—it doesn't seem real, to feel so at home.

∙ A Promise

As war inches closer on the horizon, Azriel reminds you of a promise you made to him—one you aren't sure you can keep.

∙ If You Cared to Ask

Azriel hasn't been listening. You got hurt. Sometimes, an argument can't be boiled down to just one instance.

⁂ Cassian ⁂

∙ R&R

Cassian was tired and you were taking forever to get your ass back home.

∙ The Construct of Loyalty

After months of "disobedience," your father calls upon Cassian to be your personal guard. That leaves Cassian, a soldier in the Night Court army, your childhood friend, and a man deeply in love with you, to protect you from all fronts—including the arranged marriage you were born into.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #masterlist

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phant0mth1ef · 3 months

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last part of bakugou x support course reader

it’s routine at this point, having the spikey haired boy sitting down and occasionally talking with you as you worked on your craft after school. it became something that he’d come to enjoy. and after class, despite your constantly nagging that you were safe by yourself, he walks you back to the support course dorms, claiming that you have to pass 2b’s dorm and monoma gives him weird vibes.

but bakugou arriving late to his own dorm doesn’t go unnoticed by his classmates, they watch as he walks in about three hours later than everybody else, and they also notice that kirishima is already back, so he couldn’t have been with him.

he’s also become easier to be around, hagakure stated that she was glad to not have to walk on eggshells around him anymore.

“i think he’s just trying to get in some extra training. he’s super manly.” kirishima started the conversation as they watched the blonde haired boy retreat to his room.

“i think he’s got a girlfriend!” mina exclaims with excitement, happy that someone finally got bakugou to take the stick out of his ass.

“nah, he’s way too harsh for a girl to like him. they tend to go for the sweeter dudes.” kaminari was hunched over the couch, finally putting in some input.

almost on cue, the boy walked out in a pair of sweatpants and house slippers, a calm look on his face as he sat down on the couch next to kirishima.

“bakugou?! you feeling alright?” mina spoke as she reached a hand over to feel his forehead before he swatted it away, curling up into a ball simultaneously.

“i’m fine! stop touching me.” he was like a little kid who had just been told no for the very first time.

“where’ve you been man? you always get back here super late.” kirishima turned to bakugou, who gave the man a side eye.

“none of your damn business.” he spat, although his friends knew his intentions weren’t malicious, they actually snickered at the boys defensiveness.

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you’ve been spending a lot of time with the support course. you always got some new gear on everytime we have to spar.” kaminari interjected.

bakugou looked away.

“you have been with the support course! is it l/n? tell me it’s l/n, she’s like you as a girl!” mina gushed, happy for her friend.

again he didn’t meet their gaze as they watched his every action intently.

“oh my god. he’s got a crush!” kaminari begun to gush with mina, jumping up and down like schoolgirls once they uncovered their friends secret.

once bakugou whipped his head back around, the slight pink tint was evident on his cheeks.

“s’not that. she’s just not that bad to be around. s’all.” he spoke lowly.

“oh my goshhh! bakugou’s in love! someone finally matched his freak.” mina was over the moon when she uncovered this newfound information.

“when are you gonna ask her out man?” kaminari gave him a hard pat on his back, causing the unprepared boy to move forward slightly.

“i dunno. nothing. first time i’ve ever actually tolerated someone this much.” nonchalant king enery!! go and give us nothing!

“you gotta go big! she’ll love that.”

and so he spent the rest of the night listening to his friends suggestions, he really had gotten nicer since meeting you.

the support course had a mailbox for every student located in the faculty office just in case someone needed their gear tweaked and couldn’t get in contact with whoever made it.

when you checked your box, you saw only one note sitting there, so you quickly grabbed it and walked away, reading it in your head.

would you ever wanna grab some food with me? not a date. don’t think that. but i want to get to know you better.

- Great Explosion Murder God : Dynamight

you snickered at his name, in disbelief that he’d actually chosen that to be his alias for the rest of his career.

you looked up, the boy peering at you from a corner, watching your reaction.

you smiled at him.

“yes.” and he felt his breath return to his body.

#bnha bakugou #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #myheroacademia #mha bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki

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yzzart · 10 months

Note

could you write a request where Coryo's obsessed with (f)reader's boobs?

nsfw! 18+, mdni

Coriolanus who is obsessed with your boobs; in a way that is not only inappropriate and inappropriate, but animalistic. — Like an animal marking its prey carefully and hungrily. — No matter where you were, what you were actually doing, Coriolanus's hands were always grabbing or resting on your boobs. — As if your hands were made to be there, and no one, not even you, could take them away; squeezing and leaving a affection on them.

At every opportunity, and every time you were together in your room or his, Coriolanus would rest his head on your soft, delicate boobs; as if they were a magnificent pillow. — A needy action, and in need of your attention and affection, but with a malicious intention behind it.

For a matter of seconds, Coriolanus's protruding and dangerous mouth sucked, licked and bit your sensitive and sweet boobs; his tongue moved up and down accompanied by the contact of his teeth. — A wave of saliva accumulated on your boobs, leaving them shining and even more desirable.

His cold fingers loved pinching your sensitive and reddened nipples, sending a shock throughout your body, giving you goose bumps and a puddle of pleasure between your legs. — Your mouth released sly whimpers and moans involving his name in a slurred way; Coriolanus smiled against your beautiful and fascinating breasts.

Giving dignified, delightful and delicious attention to your breasts brought peace to Coriolanus; taking his mind to a serene place.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader smut #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x reader smut #coriolanus snow fanfiction #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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moonstruckme · 4 months

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Hello!! Starting this off with the mushy gushy stuff like how much I adore your writing and talent and how I hope you know how appreciated you are, all that jazz 👐 Anywhosies, onto the nitty gritty, the other day in my psych lecture I learned more in depth about operant conditioning, which is a theory by B.F Skinner about how a behavior is either reinforced or encouraged through a series of punishments and/or reinforcements, and i thought of our resident brainiac, Spencer Reid! He seems the type to be interested in theories like that and there application in day-to-day life, and so what else is he supposed to do other than condition fem!reader! (Consensually and safely of course) obviously he wouldn’t have malicious intent, but say reader wasn’t super confident in the bedroom, he would steadily over time ‘condition’ her into being more open about her wants and needs through rewards when she’s vocal! If you are in any way uncomfortable writing this please feel free to disregard! <33333

This was fun!! Thank you for requesting babe :)

cw: smut mdni, fingering, edging

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 912 words

You gasp, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. Spencer looks up at you interestedly.

“That’s progress,” he says, but frowns when he sees your lip. He lets go of your leg to encourage it free. “Don’t do that, please.”

“Sorry,” you manage, breathless. You feel shaky.

Spencer offers you a smile, brown eyes so kind it hurts. “That’s okay. We’re learning, right? I don’t expect you to pick it up all at once.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that and in the end you don’t have to, Spencer’s fingers sliding over your folds and stealing your breath again.

“I want to kiss you,” he says, his own breathing affected by your reaction. He’s bolder in bed than you expected him to be, more direct, but really you should have seen it coming. Spence is relentless when he’s working a case. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Please.”

He doesn’t go where you expect him to, his mouth finding the tender bit of skin below your ear.

“Is this nice?” he asks, kissing slowly downward. You trail your hands up his back and rock into his fingers, only just starting to get into it when he moves down to your breast. “How about this?”

You suppress a horrifically needy sound, and for a minute it seems like Spencer takes the hint. He mouths up the side of your breast, teeth scraping lightly as he gets closer to the pert bud of your nipple.

“Yeah?”

He strokes a lithe hand up your side, thumb soothing over the opposite side of your tit. His fingers part your folds, moving towards your clit, and you’re burning up, incinerating from the inside out. You wind your fingers in Spencer’s hair just before the hand at your breast leaves. It takes both of your hands by the wrists, guiding them above your head.

Spencer smooths his thumb over your pulse, not pinning you (he’d never deny you anything you want, not really), not so much a restraint as a reminder. You have an agreement.

“Yeah,” you say weakly. “Yeah, there is good.”

“Thank you,” he says, and if you couldn’t tell he means it by his tone, Spencer gives you extra encouragement by pushing two gentle fingers into your hole. Your lips part in a soundless gasp as he covers them with his.

“You know, when you like something, your body responds.” He brings his other hand back to your breast, cupping experimentally. His index finger grazes your nipple so lightly you could have mistaken it for a breeze. “But it would make things even easier if you told me yourself. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I can.” Your brain goes all staticy as Spencer’s thumb finds your clit, searching for purchase in the wetness he’s been tormenting out of you for god knows how long now. “I can, please, I can.”

“You don’t need to say please, it’s okay. You can just tell me what you want.”

The problem is, you have no notes, truly. Spencer’s fingers are working in and out of you at the perfect pace, deliciously long and brain-fuzzingly dextrous. His thumb skates crude figure-eights over the bead of your clit until you’re trembling, your hands balled up tight in the bedsheets.

Middle and marriage sponge over something sweet inside you, and you clench around him, swallowing a moan.

Spencer makes a quiet, satisfied sound. “Here?”

His fingers press into the spot again, and you gasp, arching off the bed. They go still.

“Yesyesyes,” you say, words all jumbling together in your desperation. “There. There.”

“Here,” he checks, just to be sure, as his fingers move over the spot again.

“Yes.” Tears sting your eyes. “Yes, there. Spence—”

Spencer waits a few beats. When you don’t seem likely to continue, he prompts gently, “Are you going to cum? You should say so, if you are.”

He’s doubtless seen the quivering that’s taken your thighs, but you nod anyway, panting out another fraught, “Yes.”

“Okay.” He kisses the corner of your lips sweetly as he picks up his pace. “Thank you for telling me.”

You moan without quieting yourself when his grip tightens on your breast. Spencer rewards you for it, kissing dedicatedly at your bottom lip while he kneads the fat, sending pleasure like waves of deep bass buzzing through you. His other thumb increases its pressure on your clit, the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you hardly audible over both of your breathing as he finds that spot again, and again, until you think you probably scream.

Spencer assures you later that you didn’t. That, actually, the sound you made seemed half choked back, and that’s another thing he’d like to work on next time. But for now, he’s happy enough to treat you to a myriad of kisses, soft, sweet presses of his mouth without want for anything more. He encourages you up to use the bathroom, and when you come back, lets you lay on top of him on a clean part of the bed, your cheek pressed to his chest.

“Okay,” you sigh, eyes closing as Spencer’s hand coasts down the bare skin of your back. “You wanna know what I want, for next time?”

“Of course I do,” he says genuinely.

“I want you to use your handcuffs.”

Spencer’s hand stills. You lift your head, and he looks curious. “I think we have time for that tonight, don’t you?”

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atlabeth · 4 months

Text

table thief

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer's routine, thoughts, and plans are thrown off by a girl he meets at his favorite cafe --- not necessarily in that order.

a/n: i dont know where this came from but uh. enjoy this lil fluffy blurb! ill get to those 3k requests sometime. set during spence's time at caltech

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): none, all fluff

Spencer’s mind is a whirlwind of information while he stands in line at his usual coffee shop, trying to keep everything in order as he goes over everything he needs to get done. It’s a particularly busy afternoon for him, hence his coming here directly after class instead of stopping by his dorm.

There’s a research paper for him to finish, office hours to make for his most elusive professor to get some questions answered—why she only has them open for two hours on Wednesdays, Spencer has no idea—a thousand papers to grade for the class he’s a TA for, and naturally, a coffee to give him the energy for the rest of what is going to be a long night.

Of course, he knows he should probably try and do it without caffeine—it’s one of the most popular drugs in the world, and most people live in ignorance of their obvious addiction to it—but Spencer has decided to forgo some caution in the name of getting all his work done.

He doesn’t really have a choice, honestly. He’s planned out this whole day meticulously, much like every other day. He packed his bag with everything he would need for the rest of the day so he wouldn’t have to make the aforementioned stop at his dorm, he picked the line with the barista that has never gotten his order wrong—and, he’s realized over numerous trips to this shop, is the fastest in the entire cafe—and his usual table is big enough to hold all of his books and papers.

But as Spencer finishes pouring in his last bit of sugar, he realizes his meticulous plan is foiled before he can even take the first sip.

Because his table is taken.

The table he sat at the first time he stopped in here before class and the table he has sat at every other time since, the table that has honestly become a part of his routine and is the only one big enough for all of the work he has to get done this afternoon, is taken by some woman wearing a Caltech sweatshirt and reading a book. You’ve got your own thermos in front of you, so at least you care about the environment, but that thought doesn’t stop the flareup of annoyance inside of him.

You have to be a student, and you have to be his age, and you have to either be oblivious or have a whole lot of nerve because Spencer has seen you around campus and in this coffee shop before. That means you know this is his table and you still took it anyway.

“That’s my table,” Spencer says, and after it leaves his mouth he’s able to hear how stupid he sounds. It’s a table in a public coffee shop. Of course he has no claim to it—just because it’s obvious to him doesn’t mean it’s obvious to you. You probably didn’t even know.

You look up from your book, and the second stupid thought to hit him is how pretty you are. “I know.”

He frowns. He can’t think that table thieves are pretty, especially ones with apparent malicious and knowledgeable intent. “You— you know?”

You nod. “I’m here almost as much as you are, Mr. Reid.”

“Doctor Reid,” he corrects, almost on instinct.

Your eyebrows rise. “Doctor?”

“I have two PhDs,” he explains, though he feels even more stupid doing so as he gets on the edge of stammering. “I’m working on a third. Chemistry.”

“And already I know more about you in a minute than I’ve gotten in the past month,” you muse. “That’s why I took your table, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer frowns even more. “You took my table so I could tell you about my PhDs?”

“So I could get an excuse to talk to you,” you correct. Your smile grows a bit and you huff a quiet laugh, more to yourself than anything. “You’re a little intimidating.”

That gets him completely, his brows furrowing deeper yet. “I— I’m intimidating?”

“Well, yeah,” you say. “You’re a gorgeous guy who always looks like he’s got something to do, so I never wanted to interrupt you. But I really wanted to ask you out, so I finally decided to take matters into my own hands.”

Spencer feels like his brain is short circuiting. He’s still stuck on the intimidating comment, and he’s still kind of annoyed that you took his table, but you specifically went out of your way to get his attention and now you’re calling him gorgeous—

Just who the hell are you?

“You’re not busy, are you?” He’s drawn out of his head temporarily as you speak again, dazzling smile still on display. “I would get it if you were. I mean, third PhD and all.”

“No,” he says immediately, shaking his head far too rapidly, “no— no, I’m not busy.”

He just has a whole lot of work to do, work that he came specifically to this cafe to do, but you’re throwing him off of everything in the first five seconds of knowing each other.

“Wonderful.” Your smile grows and Spencer feels his face grow hot. He finds his annoyance quickly fading, replaced with some mix of confusion and interest and embarrassment. “If you’ve got the time, I’d love to sit down and talk some. Get to know you a bit.”

And again, Spencer hardly even knows what to say. He— he doesn’t talk to girls. Girls don’t talk to him. But here you are, stealing his table and flashing pretty smiles and wanting to get to know him— wanting to ask him out. It’s all so absurd that a part of him thinks he might just be dreaming, but he’s sure he’s fully conscious.

“Why?” he blurts out, and he would be even more embarrassed if it wasn’t such a genuine question.

You give him a wry look. “Why what?”

“Wh— why would you want to get to know me?” Spencer stammers. “There’s more than 2,000 other students here. There’s almost 40 million people in California. I’m no one.”

“You are Doctor Spencer Reid,” you say, looking him right in the eye. “You drink your coffee with an absurd amount of sugar and cream, you always seem to be in a hurry, you’re one of the most beautiful guys I’ve ever seen, and I want to know more about you than passing observations. That’s why.”

For once, Spencer finds that he’s speechless. He doesn’t think anyone has ever been this blatant, this honest with him, over a matter like this. He— he doesn’t think he’s ever been asked out. Are you asking him out?

“If you think this is totally weird and you want your table back, say the word and I’ll get out of here.” Your eyes move to the free seat across from you, and you tilt your head. “But… if you don’t think it’s totally weird, there’s room for another.”

Spencer stands there for a second, a thousand things flitting through his mind once again. On one hand, he has a lot of work to do. This is throwing off his entire routine, and even if he just spends ten minutes talking here, he’s going to have to get all his work done, and he’ll probably end up running to his office hours to make it there in time. Part of the reason that he plans things out so meticulously is so he can avoid sprints across campus that he’s most certainly not built for.

On the other hand, he’s known you for two minutes and he’s already enraptured. He wants nothing more than to ignore that voice in his head and sit down across from you, absorb every bit of attention you’re willing to give and every word you say, and get to know this strange table thief.

It takes another moment, but Spencer slings his bag off and takes the seat across from you. He sets his bag on the ground and his oversugared coffee on the table, and he notices the way a weight seems to leave your shoulders.

You were nervous. Nervous to talk to him. The thought is almost laughable, that someone feels the way about him that he usually feels in every social interaction.

“It is a little weird,” Spencer says, and he finds a small smile tugging at his lips that he can’t fully control. “But that’s kind of my specialty.”

Your smile grows, and Spencer thinks you’re one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen. He has no idea how he got lucky enough for you to intercept him like this, but he’s grateful for it.

“Good to hear,” you nod, and you let out a soft chuckle. “Sorry for stealing your table, by the way. It was the only thing I could think of to get your attention.”

He shakes his head as he blinks a few times. “I don’t blame you. It’s a good table.”

“It’s not really the table,” you say wryly. “It’s you. You’re very intriguing.”

“Well,” Spencer says, clearing his throat as he tries his hardest to calm his nerves, “I guess it’s not really my table anymore. It can be our table, going forward.”

Your eyebrows rise, and your smile is as bright as your eyes. “I like the sound of that, Doctor Reid.”

His face burns as he tries to act casual, and he hopes you can’t tell how much he likes the sound of that.

You start talking, asking him questions about himself and what he does and how in the world he has two PhDs already when you’re the same age, and he finds himself attached to every word—it’s an active effort to not get lost in those bright eyes of yours.

(Spencer never does make it to those office hours.)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #x reader #sadie writes

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miley1442111 · 6 months

Text

unfair- a.hotchner

a/n: he's an asshole in this for a while btw. i wrote this with fem!reader in mind but i don't think there's any mention of it so imagine what you like! mad spoilers for season 3 episode 20- Lo-fi (aka i verbatim copied dialogue from it). 'ly' means 'love you'

summary: what happens when Aaron is met with an ex-fling in the workplace that seems to hate you, surely he'll be by your side, right?

pairings: aaronhotchner x reader, platonicBAUteam x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, mentions of murder, mentions of panic attacks, general relationship angst, reader getting hurt, mentions of guns and bullet wounds, mentions of death, suggestive themes at the end

Part 2

You hated New York. You hated the bustling crowds, the rude people, and the barely breathable air.

“Is it just me or does Agent Kate kinda look like Haley?” you overheard Jj say, and your heart dropped. Aaron and Haley had only been legally divorced for a few months, but they’d been separated for a lot longer than that. Your relationship with Aaron had grown into a 10 months long rollercoaster of highs and lows. He was hard on himself about the divorce, about not seeing Jack enough, but you were always there to comfort him. Jj blushed when she realised you’d heard and mouthed a ‘sorry’ your way. You nodded as an acceptance of her apology and continued with the case.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kate had been shooting down your ideas all day. It could’ve been something as simple as lunch ideas, or something relating to the case, she didn’t care. Your input was unnecessary and unwanted. This led you, the only licensed psychologist on the team to be silent as Aaron, Kate and the nypd cops bounced ideas and facts about the psychology of the unSubs back and forth. You knew that what they were saying was outdated. You knew it, and yet you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to give her another reason to silence you. You weren’t even that mad at her, more at Aaron. Why wasn’t he speaking up for you? He alway did before and he promised he would intervene if someone was being unfair and not listening to you in the workplace. He made that promise to the entire team. You were hurt by him, and by the rumours you’d heard. And then you thought back, since you’d gotten to New York, he’d barely glanced your way, his eyes focused on the case or Kate. Derek slumped in the chair beside you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“She’s a real piece of work, everything I say is just the wrong thing,” He complained, a tired tone in his voice.

“Want to go back to the hotel? I could use an early night if no one is going to utilise us,” you offered, exhaustion and hurt guiding you against your better judgement.

“Sounds like a plan, sugar, you and me sharing like old times?” he asked tentatively, clearly sensing the upset you were carrying.

“You and me Derek, as always,” you smiled. You had known before-hand that the hotel only had so many rooms and in the beginning of the BAU, you and Derek would always share, since he was the person you were closest with. He took your hand and gave it a small squeeze before standing up to gather his things. You stood up too, grabbing your bag and coat.

“Leaving so soon?” Kate asked, clearly malicious intent behind her eyes.

“Yeah, just tired and all, listening to you spew absolute bullshit is exhausting,” you yawned and gave her a fake smile as her jaw dropped. Aaron sent you a look of warning, one you met with your own hardened eyes. “Goodnight,” you waved at the cops you had befriended, who waved back, all too happy that someone had finally put Shelly in her place.

Derek and you walked to the hotel hand in hand, just as you used to, he got the room key, you showered in the bathroom as he watched tv, then vice versa. You texted Aaron a simple, ‘sharing with Derek. Ly xxx’ before you let yourself fall asleep, comfortable in the clean hotel bed.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You always wrote it out. He thought to himself as he rushed to the hotel, mere minutes after you sent the text. He had been tired and maybe his vision was clouded with Kate, an old fling of his if he was being honest. He pulled at his tie in the elevator as he caught his breath. When the doors opened on the floor of your room, he found you standing on the other side, your eyes semi-shut as if to try and conserve your drowsy state, a habit he knew you possessed and loved. This brought an ease to him, a small smile made its way onto his lips. You had your headphones on too, which meant you really were sharing with Derek. His smile dropped.

“Honey,” he sighed and you yawned and rubbed your eyes.

“Aaron?”

“Yes honey, can we talk-”

“In the morning,” You cut him off, “I’m just getting ice. The ice machine on this floor is out of order.”

“It technically is 1:34 am,” he corrected and you sent him a glare. He shut his mouth. “Can I at least kiss you goodnight?”

“I don’t know, is your mouth not too tired from kissing Kate’s ass today?” You stifled a chuckle at your own joke as he sighed.

“Honey if you let me-”

“Please, for the love of god, shut up, I’m too tired for this,” You got off as the doors opened and closed them behind you, pushing the button back to his floor. You grabbed your ice and took the stairs instead of risking him being there. You got back into your room and fell asleep again, even more to think about.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walked into the police precinct with Spencer, ready to help him with his geological profile when Aaron stopped in front of you, and Spencer continued walking on.

“We need to talk,” he essentially demanded and you rolled your eyes and tried to push past him to follow Spencer but he grabbed your waist and started walking you both into an empty interrogation room.

“Are you planning on interrogating me?” You chuckled as he let go of your waist and started pacing around the room. “What is the problem here?” You asked.

“Why don’t you tell me? Something I did made you so upset that you decided you wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as me, something I did made you not tell me you love me, and something I did made you not let me kiss you goodnight. So please, just tell me!” He was frantic, the early signs of a panic attack clear in his body language and face.

“Aaron, come here,” you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him. His hands pulled you closer to him, squeezing you tight into his chest. “I was just mad about Kate not taking mine or Derek’s ideas, and how you didn't help either of us out. I just wanted some space to clear my head-”

“Were you jealous?” He asked, pulling away from you.

“No? I was frustrated that mine and Derek’s ideas were being shot down, this has nothing to do with Kate.”

“Then why did you say what you said last night? It made her deeply upset,” he explained and you rolled your eyes.

“Because it was true? Maybe next time, let the registered and licensed psychologist with 2 phDs speak?”

His eyes were trained on you. “Not everything always has to be about you, some people are very sensitive to things like that-”

“I’m starting to think I should be jealous of Kate” you knew it was a low blow but it was one you were willing to take. “I’ll see you around, agent.”

You left Aaron alone in the room, a frown that was bound to stay all day.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Derek had been right to station BAU team members on platforms and we were about to have another body.

“Hotchner,” a brief pause. “Does it look like it could be one of our guys?” Aaron spoke into the phone.

“What’s going on?” Derrick asked,

“We’ve got eyes on one of them, he’s on the subway platform at 59th and lex,” Aaron’s eyes met yours and you looked away, focused on Penelope’s voice over the phone..

“59th? We could have been right there,” Derek sighed, clearly frustrated with Aaron’s behaviour.

“Garcia, can you get eyes on him above ground?”

“If he makes it to the park, we've lost him,” Kate explained.

“We could've had that guy,” Derek stressed.

“Even if we were on that platform, odds are he would have moved on to somewhere more isolated,” Kate argued.

“Maybe, but it was worth taking a shot,” Derek shot back.

“We had every available man on the street,” She scoffed.

“And I suggested to you that you use this team,” Derek seethed.

“Second-guessing doesn't do us any good right now,” Aaron piped up.

“Hotch, how am I supposed to look these cops in the eye and tell them that we're actually here to help them?” Derek demanded, even you were getting angry now.

“We're here to present a profile. That's what we need to do,” Aaron said in that terrible deadpanned voice that made you want to shake him until he was the real Aaron again. Your Aaron.

“I said to put us at express stops- 14th, 42nd, 59th and that's exactly where they hit!” Derek snapped.

“It's not your place to have this discussion,” Aaron crossed a line with that.

“My place?” Derek questioned.

“You need to back off,” Aaron scolded.

“We got 7 bodies, man,” Derek said, shocked that Aaron would ever treat him like this.

“Which is exactly why we need to stay focused,” Aaron countered.

“Focused. From where I'm standing, All your focus is on her, not on this case, you're ignoring your girl, so it's not on y/n, but on her,” Derek rebutted.

“Take a walk, now.”

You gasped when Derek called him out, but as Derek walked off he offered you a hand, one which you took, and left Aaron with Kate. Derek left to go ‘take a walk’ to a bar nearby and you sat in an office, going over the case with Emily and Spencer. You all ended up sleeping in the office, you chose to be as far away from Aaron as possible. The next day, you were positioned with Emily.

“How’s it going with Aaron?” She asked and you let out a groan. “That good huh?”

“He’s being such a dick, I have no clue what to do,” You sighed.

“Maybe talking to him will help?” She offered and you shot her a glare.

“He doesn’t want to hear me, he just wants to talk,” you explained, hopping off the train and walking up the platform steps. You heard a gunshot and looked around, knowing he was close.

“Garcia? Where is he?” Emily asked. “He’s headed our way.” You ran towards the way he was coming from and spotted him, chasing him the other way. You were faster than Emily and stopped in the alleyway. He shot. He grazed your side and Emily shot him and grabbed his gun.

“Y/l/n?! You ok?” She called back to you.

“It was just a graze, I’m fine,” You took a deep breath as the adrenaline wore off and the pain started to seep in. Emily and you waited for the ambulance and you started getting stitched up as the rest of the team arrived. Derek came straight to you, Aaron hot on his heels.

“You good sugar?” He asked and you nodded as the needle went back into your skin.

“Not my first bullet, probably not my last,” you joked and you saw Aaron’s eyes widen. Spencer and Jj shot you a look of concern from behind Aaron and you sent them a thumbs up, Spencer and Jj nodded, understanding that you were ok.

“Can I have a minute alone, please?” Aaron cleared his throat and Derek rolled his eyes but obliged anyway, walking away. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, great. Nothing like a bullet wound to put a pep in your step,” you remarked, sarcasm flowing freely. They finished with the stitches and put a dressing on the wound. As soon as you were out of the paramedics hands, Aaron wrapped you in an all-consuming hug.

“I was so worried,” he whispered.

“Yeah, so was I, I didn’t think you could get your head out of your ass in time,” you snorted, hearing others laugh at your joke. Aaron rolled his eyes and cracked a smile.

“I was being unfair, wasn’t I,” he sighed, his hands resting on your waist.

“Yes, yes you were.”

“I love you, and I’m sorry I didn’t show it,” he offered and you smiled and kissed him softly.

“You know it’s going to take a bit more than a few pretty words and a hug to make this right, right?”

“Oh I know, but I was hoping you would at least be in the same bed as me tonight? Then I can at least start apologising,” he smirked and you laughed.

“Maybe,” you mused.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

#aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #carmy berzatto x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfic

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