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tender-rosiey · 9 months

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“A BIT GENTLER, PLEASE?”

— gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna feeling their baby kick (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

satoru was always all over you, one clingy and affectionate husband.

truthfully, while you would like to say that he is annoying and is making you regret ever getting pregnant, you have to admit that he makes being pregnant a lot easier to endure. his light-hearted way of speaking puts you at easy somehow.

he also made it very obvious that he is excited for the baby, maybe even more than you’re. one of the many ways he shows his enthusiasm is through buying baby clothes and baby equipment and I mean a shit ton of them.

that’s why you’re not surprised when he enters the house with yet another batch of baby clothes, “wifey, I am home!”

you get up and waddle your way to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “what did you get this time?”

“I thought you would never ask,” he smirks before pulling out each and every one of the outfits he got.

you’re sat on the couch with a cup of your favorite warm drink as you listen to his rambles, “first off, I got this really cute blue dress! call it a dad’s instinct but I think she will have my gorgeous eyes,” he grins.

you nod absentmindedly as he continues, “second, I got this yellow jump suit? overalls? dungarees?” he switches his accent in the end and you roll your eyes. he resumes, “eh, I don’t care, but it’s pretty so who cares?”

he puts the clothes aside before kneeling in front you, hand resting on your stomaxh, “right, baby?” he coos, “daddy’s going to get you all the pretty outfits you want!”

you’re about to drift to sleep while your husband busies himself with the baby, but you’re quickly brought back to consciousness when you feel her kick against your stomach.

your husband’s gasp quickly follows after before he presses his ear to your stomach, “can you do that again for me, pretty?”

his other hand moves to hold your own and he guides your hand to his hair, “somehow, this is making me realize just how close she is to finally join us, right, wifey?”

“right, ‘toru,” you smile softly and he quickly starts peppering your face with kisses, murmuring about how his pretty wife is simply irresistible.

NANAMI KENTO:

whenever someone asks you about kento, you can’t find the words to stress just how much of a sweetheart he is. he was always a caring and attentive man.

yet, somehow it amplified after your pregnancy: he helps you rest as much as he can, cooks for you, and gets you all the snacks you would like.

you also remember the first time you told him that your feet hurt, and he ended up massaging it for you. you cried that day.

in summary, he never left you in need of anything, like right now for example.

“y/n, would you like anything else?”

a dopey smile is plastered on your face as you relax further in the cushions, feet propped up on the pillow your sweetheart of a husband got.

he places your favorite snacks right by your side. you cup his face and press a lingering kiss on his cheek, “no, thank you, kento.”

he nods and takes a seat beside you. he takes your hand into his and starts rubbing your hand, “we should start preparing the baby’s room,” he murmurs softly.

you nod, head resting on his shoulder, “you’re right. we need to welcome our little princess well.”

he chuckles and his hand moves to rest on your stomach, “I assembled the crib already so that’s something to be proud of.”

nanami’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder and you snuggle closer into his chest, giggling, “my strong, independent, and reliable husband,” you sigh happily, “whatever will I do without you?”

he half-heartedly rolls his eyes, “flattery is getting you nowhere.”

“but it does!” you laugh and he lightly tickles you. your hand rests on your stomach, alongside his. you smirk, “what do you think, baby? is mommy right?”

to your absolute delight, the little girl kicks against your womb making you squeal and instantly look at your husband, “kento, did you feel that?!”

“…yeah,” his face is one of awe. she kicks once again and nanami can’t help but press a kiss to your stomach, “looks like she is a strong, healthy baby.”

“just like her dad,” you chuckle but stop to think about it for a moment before concern over takes your face.

nanami’s gaze quickly snaps to you, “what’s wrong?”

“if she will be as strong as you then god help my uterus.”

GETO SUGURU:

geto gets a little busy at times, but he does do his best to make time for you.

in addition to that, nanako and mimiko love hanging out with you so it kind of puts him at ease, knowing that you’re accompanied by someone.

today, he was doing some of his usual works in the establishment? shrine? eh whatever.

no fiber of his being expected the girls to burst into the room, grins filling their faces, as they urgently call him, “geto-sama! you have to see what just happened!”

with no hesitation, he abandons the followers and quickly follows the girls. he asks them, voice laced with concern, “is y/n okay? did something happen?”

the girls giggle as they finally near your room. mimiko speak up, “she is okay! but something important really did happen!”

somehow, it sends geto more into panic, because just what happened and why is it so important to the point they had to call him?

after a while, they are finally there, and geto wastes no time in sitting by your side, hands and eyes inspecting your body for an injury.

you giggle, “’calm down, suguru,” you take his hand and guide it to your stomach, “can you feel it?”

“feel it? what do you mean—“ he pauses upon the little kick against his palm. he smiles, actually grins, quietly before looking you in the eyes.

you nod with a smile of your own, while he leans down to kiss your stomach then your hand.

he rests his head against your stomach, “how are you, little buddy?”

geto chuckles softly, “better not cause trouble for your pretty mom,” his eyes lock with yours, “I hate to see her in pain or discomfort.”

you roll your eyes before patting your husband’s head, “you’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

“I would rather only charm you, y’know,” he chuckles.

the both of you completely forget about the pair of girls standing at the door way, each snapping a bunch of photos of the moment in front you.

nanako snickers a little before teasing, “that line was a bit cheesy, no?”

he quirks an eyebrow at them and they quickly flee away. with a soft sigh and a gentle chuckle, he goes back to admiring you, hand rubbing circles on your stomach.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

it’s safe to say that sukuna was surprised with the news of your pregnancy, but he came to terms with it quicker than you expected.

he just had to sit with himself a bit and understand that the ‘brat’ in you was his ‘brat’ as well.

he also found himself staring at your stomach longer than he would like. he started to really think about how life will go on from this point onwards.

he is a feared man, the king of curses, with no weaknesses to ever exploit.

that is until you came into his life. he grew fond of you and the rest is history. right now, though, you’re carrying his child.

after a long day, he finally enters your chambers and finds you fast asleep.

he guesses that carrying a child of his own must be more exhausting than that of a normal man. his feet take him to you and his figure towers over your sleeping form.

he watches your expression contort ever so slightly as you stir, perhaps in seek of your comfort.

he sits by your side and his hand traces your every feature, nails slightly grazing you but never hurting you. finally, it reaches your stomach and he frowns lightly.

he sighs, “just what the hell am I going to do with you?”

he feels a light kick against his palm.

his eyes widen at the movement and his hand involuntary presses against your stomach once more, wanting to feel the kick once again. he narrows his eyes, “what? you think that light kick is fit for the kid of the king of curses?”

as if understanding what he said, the baby delivers one rough and tough kick to your abdomen. you wince and whine at the pain, “sukuna, don’t be mean to the baby…”

“I am not trying to, woman,” he grumbles, “that kid is just short-tempered.”

sukuna is sporting quite the frown but it doesn’t stop his hand from massaging your stomach and you hum in content before sassing him, “oh wow, I wonder where did he get that from.”

you squeak as you feel a pinch to your side. you glare at sukuna who glares at you back before replying, “he got it from one stubborn woman who happens to be mine.”

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tired-biscuit · 2 months

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i want to ride yuuji so bad and then start crying cause he’s so thick and big and then have his strong arms wrap around me and then he starts thrusting up and we’re both drooling and moaning that would be a dream

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: good girl, good girl, GOOD GIRL!

he’s cooing at you while caressing your cheeks and wiping your tears away, and it’s all so goddamn sweet that it outright hurts; in a good way, though.

always in a good way when it’s with him.

especially because he does it so effortlessly? being kind is like second nature to someone like yuuji and it’s hard not to melt into a puddle of gooey emotions and spill even more tears when he’s looking up at you with hearts in his warm honey-coloured eyes and there’s this prominently lovestruck look on his face that makes him look even dumber than he already is.

but he’s also cute, awfully so. his hair is an absolute mess, his lips are in the colour of dark pink from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed, and his skin burns so hot that he’s sweating like crazy underneath the thick hoodie that he’s still got on. you’ve been in such a rush to get him inside you that you’re both still completely dressed, aside from the bits of clothing that have been tugged down and pushed to the side in order to make the entire thing easier for you, of course.

however, having all these layers on is simply excruciating. the heat makes him pant and causes his chest to heave in a faster rhythm than normal; and all those breaths make it somewhat hard to get all the praise that he feels for you out of his system.

but yuuji is no quitter. so he swallows the runny saliva that keeps on gathering in his mouth between sentences and threatens to spill past the corner of his lips. it’s audible and it makes his adam’s apple bob in his throat, and yet he still manages to thank you in hushed, trembling whispers and broken grunts and moans.

he thanks you for being such a good girlfriend; for being so willing to give it a chance when it comes to riding him and taking him in all the way, despite the fact that it’s only been a couple of days since he’s taken your virginity and your most sensitive parts are still sore and tender from all the gentle pounding — but pounding nevertheless — he had done after getting his first taste.

you feel heat sear your face as you listen to the jumble of gratitude he’s putting before you and look at him from underneath your lashes, trying to not pay mind how tears still cling to them as stubbornly as ever.

this entire thing has not gone the way you’ve imagined it to go at all and it’s frustrating as hell. and how couldn’t it be? i mean, you’ve known how big he is, have known how it feels to have him inside you, but jesus fucking christ, this position is nowhere as easy as missionary had been — and even then you’d struggled a great deal.

because now, you’re the one who has to do all the work while he sits there, looking pretty, sometimes eyeing how your arousal glistens on his pubic hair, even though your clit hasn’t come anywhere near to kissing the spot from how much of a hard time you’re having when it comes to sitting on his dick entirely.

if only you could just—

“hey,” he says the word with such care as he cups your cheek that it sends butterflies twirling in your belly. his hand is just so big, it urges you to pet yourself against it like a little kitty. “you okay?” yet another look that’s brimming with concern is thrown your way. “we don’t have to do this if it’s too much, you know… just tell me.”

“did you really mean all that?” you mumble the exact moment his hands reach for your hips, clearly aiming to manhandle you into a position that you’d be able to endure a bit better.

“mean what?” he asks, glancing downwards just for a second as your hands stop his own. his cock twitches in response — he’s always been such a sucker for hand holding and this time is no exception. when your fingers intertwine, his heart sings in answer.

“that i’m a good girl?” the eye contact that you initiate in return is determined instead of anxious all of a sudden and it makes his pupils visibly dilate right in front of you.

it seems like you’re no quitter either.

“‘course i did,” yuuji replies in a heartbeat, cherishing how you squeeze around him whenever he gives you his approval, his praise. “you’re such a good girl, my good girl, the goodest girl to ever walk the good girl planet... they should make you mayor of goodie town.”

you giggle at that and his smile quivers with pleasure from how it makes your pussy tighten even more. he’s doing everything he can not to grab you, press you against his chest and just follow instinct and start slamming away.

maybe next time… maybe you’ll be ready for it next time.

“you’re so silly,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him again, though this time on the forehead. his skin tastes salty, and while it may be wrong, knowing that you’re not the only one that’s having a hard time right now makes you feel just a little bit calmer.

unbeknownst to you, the fact that you’re more relaxed allows you to take yet another inch of him inside you. your muscles slacken and his fat cockhead drags against your walls as a result, slipping and pushing in, in, in. the ring of cloudy white slick forms just a little below the lower half of his cock now, stretching you further and making your tummy feel hot and tingly.

it’s definitely progress.

and it makes poor yuuji moan straight into your mouth.

#he’s such a cutie pie sweetie honey bebi sweetheart!!!!!!!#i love him soooo much #yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuji smut #yuji x reader #itadori smut #biscuit drabbles

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ponderingmoonlight · 14 days

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Gojo falls ill and reader does finishes his missions and her own missions as well do Gojo doesn't have a pile of work waiting for him once he gets better. Gojo gets better. And finds out. Hehehehe Lobe u babes

omg I love this, let's do it hehe

Reader finishing Gojo's missions when he falls sick and he finds out

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader

Word Count: 2,3k

Synopsis: When your husband falls sick, you don't think twice about completing all of his tasks in order for him to not be stressed - even if it means multiple sleepless nights for youself. Little did you know that your husband will find out about it and thank you in his own way...

Warnings: pure fluff over fluff so enjoy, Gojo basically being THE husband for y'all, not proofread because it's already darn late here and I'm way too tired

„Oh come on, don’t tell me the honoured one caught a cold”, you playfully tease your beloved husband.

He’s definitely ill, there’s no doubt in that. The way his forehead is covered in sweat, his unusual pale face paired with his heavy breathing. Let alone the sight of his red and runny nose.

You never thought this is possible. After all, Satoru is one of the few people who are able to use revered technique. Isn’t he able to heal himself, to prevent his body from falling sick?

“Looks like I overdid it those last weeks. My body is catching up on my apparently”, he replies weakly along with a nasty sounding cough.

You know all too well these last weeks were like a trip to hell and back for him. This is actually the first time you saw your husband after one whole week of him running from mission to mission and coming home into bad past after midnight. Being two special grade sorcerers, it is your responsibility to prevent the worst things from happening. Especially during summer, the number of curses triples. And that paired with the stinging fact that jujutsu sorcerers die like flies each and every day…

It’s no wonder his body took a toll on him.

“You’ll stay here for the rest of the week, babe”, you instruct him gently while pulling a blanket up his chest.

“Nah, no chance. I’ll have a pile of work when I get back and-AH.”

It’s frightening, the way he almost chokes while coughing so roughly that it vibrates through your whole body. This doesn’t sound good at all. To be exact, you’ve never seen your husband like this despite the fact that you’ve been together for multiple years by now. If he’s feeling this miserable, it’s definitely time for a break.

“Don’t worry about that. I hold the position while you’re gone.”

Little did he know you meant that.

-a week later-

“It’s far past midnight. Why are you still up, (y/n)?”

His hoarse voice rips you out of your microsleep immediately, lids so heavy they feel like closing by themselves if you don’t pay close attention.

“Oh, just work.”

No, it’s not just work. Apart from the daily drama you have to endure, you made it your mission to complete each and every task your husband would face as soon as he comes back. You know all too well he’ll throw himself fully into work again, not thinking about his own health a single second. And to prevent that, you decided to finish his missions as well, to teach his students, to do anything in your power to prevent Satoru from a pile of work.

Including swollen eyelids, constant grumpy mood, no effort to eat and your shoulders hanging down onto the ground.

You hate to admit it, but you are exhausted. You never realized how much work your husband does during the day. Must be easier for him, though. Teleportation sure sounds nice at the moment…

“I’m worried about you, babe. Are the elders bombarding you with work again? Maybe I need to have a serious talk again-“

“No, don’t think too much about it. I’m just hanging on a bit, that’s it”, you lie.

Oh, Satoru knows it is. After all, you’re talking about yourself. You, so disciplined that you’d never leave work unattended. No, it’s absolutely impossible that you’re “hanging on a bit”. But what else is it? The dark circles underneath your eyes look like valleys in the soft light of a lamp, tired eyes failing to focus on the paperwork in front of you. Usually, this is what you’re doing straight in the morning when he’s still asleep. What keeps you so busy these last days? He has to find out, he-

He almost chokes on himself again, earning a concerned side eye from you. It’s been a week and he’s still sick to the brim. Worry lines decorate your face, palm gently resting against his scorching hot forehead.

“Off to bed with you.”

“Don’t stay up too long, okay? All you seem to do is work these last days”, your husband replies worried himself.

You sigh to yourself. That’s because you do. But leaving your husband to a pile of work after he returns to Jujutsu High only to get sick again? You grab the pen in your hand tighter, force your eyes to fully open. Only a few more days and you’ll be done. After all, you’re doing this for him, right?

Satoru is definitely worth the sleepless nights.

-a few days after-

“Turns out I’m fully back at normal again, babe!”, your husband announces proudly.

You blink against the harsh light of the merciless sun, eyes dry like sand. Only a few hours ago, you returned from a village Satoru was supposed to inspect. Well, minutes turned into hours when a special grade curse appeared out of no where and made your life living hell. The sun already began to rise when you carried yourself back into bed.

But still, you can’t help but smile at him. These last days were rough for him. Him, the strongest, passed out because of a cold. He wasn’t himself all this time, weak body bound into bed with his limbs aching.

“So glad to here that”, you mumble while pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips.

“Sleep in for a while, you look exhausted (y/n). I know you just came back a few hours ago and don’t you dare to lie at me.”

Your eyes widen in an instant, cheeks blushing ever so slightly. You were so careful about leaving and returning, his even and long breaths not giving a single hint that he might be awake.

“I’m heading to Jujutsu High, bet work piled up pretty bad. Wish me good luck and have a good rest princess, I’ll kick their asses if they try to call you!”

With one last loving glance at you, he’s gone. And you can’t help but pass out immediately.

“Guess who’s back to save the day!”, Satoru announces proudly into the room filled with his students and Yaga Masamichi who looks at him with the same disinterest as usual.

“You? Didn’t even know you even exist anymore”, Nobara mumbles while filing down her nails.

“How are you? (y/n) told us you were sick”, Yuji interjects.

“I’m completely back to normal!”

“What a shame”, Megumi mumbles under his breath.

“Sooo, what side of earth do I have to save today? I’m sure a lot of work piled up while I was gone. After all, I’m the strongest.”

Satoru stretches himself playfully, waiting for the director to tell him about all different kinds of missions, curses and teachings he has to deal with these next few days. But instead, he just shrugs his shoulders.

“What? Got nothing to say? Okay, let me guess, what about that special grade curse in the village-“

“Done”, Yaga Masamichi replies dryly.

“The combat training with the first year-“

“Done.”

“Any curses that appeared in Tokyo?”

“Done.”

“Taking care of-“

“Done.”

This can’t be true, the man in front of him has to joke. Apart from you, Satoru is the only special grade sorcerer here at Jujutsu High. No one would ever be able to fulfil some of those missions, let alone teach his students just like that. Not even the director himself is capable of dealing with that special grade curse he was talking about just before Satoru got sick. But who…?

“Didn’t your wife tell you she already managed all those things?”

Oh, he was so stupid that it hurts. All these nights he caught you almost falling asleep on your desk, the multiple times you sneaked out of bed far past midnight, the dark circles under your eyes. All this time, you weren’t only busy with your own missions. No, you actually fulfilled all of his work for him as well.

“Just the amount of work I have to do when I come back. Urgh, being sick sucks.”

“Don’t worry, love. I’m sure you’ll be fine.

Yeah, he sure as hell is. But only because you decided to make your own life living hell for two weeks straight.

“Please don’t tell me (y/n) did all of my stuff while I was gone.”

“I’ll never understand how a kind-hearted woman like her ended up with you. She didn’t even stop when I told her to and somehow managed to get information about the missions I prepared for your sick ass”, the director replies dryly.

“Call her in right now.”

Words aren’t enough to thank you for this. No, you deserve way more than that, way more than his mouth could ever give you.

“And let her leave again in about an hour.”

-an hour later-

“Again, sorry for calling you in, (y/n). Now get back home, you’re free tomorrow.”

“Thank you”, is all you’re able to reply, wobbly feet carrying you back into your car and onto the road.

You sigh to yourself. Well, you definitely didn’t expect the director to call you this early when you just returned from an exhausting mission. But who are you to say no to him? After all, it’s your job to do this, it’s your job to protect the innocent.

But…Is it also your job to answer strange questions from your students in the morning?

“Come on, use your brain! You know what the director said!”, Nobara hisses through gritted teeth, the trio sticking their heads together after you were forced to drop your haircare routine to Nobara.

“Ehm...so…well…”

“If you don’t have any further questions, I’ll go-“

“Yes! I have a question!”, Yuji screams so loudly that his voice echoes through your tired brain.

“What is it, Yuji?”, you mutter with your eyes closed.

“How exactly are babies made, (y/n)-san?”

“You’re an idiot…”, Megumi grumbles.

“Really? This is all you have left in your pea-sized brain?”

“What? You just told me to ask her something and that’s what I came up with!”, Yuji defends himself.

“Yeah, but that ‘something’ definitely didn’t include THAT!”

It’s almost as if they were forced to ask you dumb questions. You’ll definitely have a talk with your husband about their strange behaviour when you caught up on sleep. But before that…

You open the door with a swift motion.

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widen.

The usual so modern and clean living-room is now covered in rose pedals and filled with the fresh scent of sakura leaves, your couch unfolded and covered in the most fluffy blankets, pillows and stuffed animals you’re ever seen. And there he sits.

He, your beloved husband, holding up your bathrobe oh so inviting.

“What’s going on here?”, you breathe out.

Suddenly, all the exhaustion you felt earlier disappeared into thin air. Did he really do all of this for you? The candles flickering, the blankets, the strawberries covered in chocolate waiting on the table, him wearing that black t-shirt you love so much.

“Guess what, I found out what you did. Did you really think you’ll get away with stealing my work in silence?”, he teases, love dripping from each and every word he says.

“It was nothing”, you try to brush him off.

But instead, he gets up and grabs your hand in order to guide you into the dim bathroom that is only lightened by a few candles. Again, the lovely smell of sakura leaves radiates from the bathtub filled with bubbles and hot steam. Just the thought of letting yourself sink into that warm water, to finally release the tension in your sore muscles-

Before you’re even able to comprehend what’s happening, Satoru took off your clothes and lifts you off the ground with ease. Your body doesn’t dare to fight back, too weak from all the missions you completed these last days. Just the tip of your toe, relaxing in the water for a few minutes before returning to Jujutsu High…

“Nothing, huh? So you mean doing the stuff I need a month for in two weeks besides your own missions is nothing? Words can’t express how thankful I am to have such a sweet, caring and steaming hot wife”, he whispers against your ear, his fingers starting to massage your back oh so skilled.

You allow yourself to sink into his touch, to rest your eyes for a few minutes. Well, there is no denying in the fact that this was a little too much for you. All the fighting, the paper work, the heart and soul you poured in each and every work.

And then there’s him. Satoru, your beloved husband, who massages your back with his skilled fingers. How lucky you are to call him your husband, that he decided to spend the rest of his life with you. Even though he scolded you ever so slightly for managing his pile of work, you know he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. What a treasure, how glad you are to know him, how wonderful he is…

“(y/n)?”, Satoru purrs against your ear.

You don’t response, chest rising and falling slow and steady. He can’t help but smile to himself, admiring he beauty of your finally resting face. Carefully, he lifts you out of the bathtub and covers your body in the fluffy bathrobe you love so much. You definitely deserve some rest for all the work you did these last days.

He can’t help but gently caress your cheek, making sure you’re completely tucked you underneath your favourite blanket.

“What a lucky man I am”, he mutters to himself while outlining your parted lips.

“To call someone so wonderful my wife…”

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@ryva @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @okay-it-is-ivy

(this took me forever so if I tagged u be so kind and leave a like/comment/reblog lol)

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yoursinfulurges · 11 months

Text

Enchantress

Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: You would guard your throne from vultures no matter the cost and so the games begins. In which Aemond Targaryen regrets making an enemy of his wife.

Aemond is a cheating hoe. No one wanted this I just really wanted to write some angst. As always your features and ethnicity is not mentioned, background is not specified but you are a highborn. After the Serpentine series I wanted something spicy.

Word count: 8.1k

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By nature you were a patient person, taking great diligence in ensuring emotions doesn't overcome your judgment. But as the hour grows late your forbearance for your husband had begun to wear thin. It nears twelve and you had been waiting for Aemonds return for well over three hours now. With every passing minute you find yourself drowning in madness as you draw a blank on where or what he was up to. Succumbing to the ill thoughts on your mind as the flickering dance and crackle of the fire floods your senses. You're tired, you're anxious and your ears are ringing yet you still sat unmoving. Why?

There was no doubt that the man in question confused you to no end, nevertheless you still made sure to act accordingly and play the part of his wife. Although you're finding it increasingly hard to upkeep the role of his good little lover when the man is hardly in your presence. It was true that your marriage with Aemond was one out of political leverage, but you still did your best to care for him. Always making sure your relationship was fostered and tended to in the hopes of something blossoming.

You had faith that he would grow fonder of you as the years went on, but with every passing day that thought was challenged. It had been a long journey but without fail you acted kind and loving towards him no matter the expense. Valuing your relationship with Aemond a great deal, you were willing to do anything for him.

Even endure his callous behaviors towards you.

It was no secret that the prince was rather displeased with your union. For a man that preached the importance of preforming duty, he was awfully bad at it. You had been wedded for almost half a year now and have yet to consummate the marriage. Not that you weren't willing to, the problem lies with your husband. It was plain to see behind closed doors that he did not take you seriously.

In his eye this marriage was a joke, you were but strangers at best due to his lack of effort. Now you know not of the origins of his distant behavior but you've tried your best to minimize them. Dragging Aemond off to accompany you on walks around the castle, asking him to join you for lunch; everyday without faltering you tried.

But to no avail, your attempts does little to dull the wall between you two. He doesn't interact with you unless it was mandatory or for show, displayed little emotions past cordial. And god forbid laying a hand on you was the end of the fucking world. Was this who Aemond Targaryen was? Cold and cynical? Deprived of all that makes a person human. Every time you looked at him he was a ghost, fading into the background slipping from your grasp. He was untouchable, invisible. His self-righteous aura creating a vortex around him.

The distance between Aemond and you had started to become apparent to the ladies in court. Everyday without fail they would voice their concerns, asking you if you were being mistreated. Of course you lie, a task that comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would since you had little ties with your husband. Though it makes you wonder if Aemond also found it easy to lie to you....

The thought gets lost on you as an intrusive sound rings through your chambers. Brows furrowing at the disturbance, why would Aemond feel the need to knock on your shared room? The train was rather absurd so it leads you into thinking that it wasn't him paying you a visit. Much to your disappointment. With confusion in your voice, you call out to the visitor.

"Come in." Anxiously bringing your palms together on your lap. Your fingers locked themselves in a manner of worry, squeezing tightly as you prepare yourself. Soon the door opens and in follows Ser Larys Strong. His pronounced way of walking evident as the cane hits the ground harshly. The sound announcing and intrusive, almost counting down the seconds before he reaches you.

"I am sorry to intrude on your private time my Lady, especially when the hour is so late but I fear this matter cannot wait till dawn." He smiles sympathetically although you do not like implications behind it. You notion for him to sit across from you, watching the scene carefully. You don't utter a word as he moves to take his place. Ser Larys's visits are always prompted.... And by the look on his face it reads that he knows something you don't... That fact slightly unnerved you...

"I thought this news would be best heard if it were from me.... From a friend..." Bullshit. Larys always had an ulterior motive, he liked cultivating favors from the court only for them to owe him in return. No doubt that he was a sick man that enjoyed manipulating others, finding power in mind games in a way that he cannot with the sword. You were far from friends but played the game together. He only viewed you so highly because you were one of the only people the didn't fall for his lures and cryptic words.

"I take it this news is not pleasant." Lifting a brow at him in question, you kept your manner strong and imposing. He swallows and nods his head briefly, averting his gaze from you to look at the floor.

"Earlier today.... Prince Aemond was caught indulging a servant girl in Harrenhal." He says the words carefully though no amount of safe keeping can withhold your anger. Larys words were vague but you understood clearly what he meant. Shaking in your seat, you calm yourself. Or at least tried to....

You were going to fucking kill him.

"Ah.... I see... Who else knows?" Your words come out strained. Tone cut and tense, implying that you were holding back an outburst as tears of anger slowly clouds your gaze. What did you honestly expect? Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, vision tunneling as rage began crawling up your center. For a moment your breath stills, the abyss captivating you before you snap out of it and focusing on Ser Larys once more. He says nothing as he watches the fire burn, avoiding your venomous stare.

"Just you and me." He nods slowly, finally looking at you, only to drop his gaze soon after. He was uncomfortable beyond measure... His mouth opens to say something once more but stops to take in your shape. You clutched at the chair with a murderous grip, nails digging into the stained leather. Slowly he met your unmoving eyes, taken aback by the poison swimming amongst them. Gods be good... That look never meant well. The tension was heavy and for a moment Larys feared for his own life. You were not sad nor disheartened, instead you were seething in hatred. The room fogs with something unpleasant as the walls welcomed the illness like an old friend. Such atmosphere was suffocating as he watched you shake in retribution, no doubt planning your next calculating moves.

Vengeance. That was all you wanted. Many questions plagued your mind, had you not been good enough for him? You've done all that you could to please him and yet he disrespect your name with his adultery. You honestly didn't know what to say, it wasn't like this was much of a shock to you since a part of you always had suspicions. But you dismissed those thoughts as nothing but intrusive and toxicant. Yet to hear the words out loud coming from a reputable man such as Ser Larys Strong was much different than you telling yourself. Larys was many things but he was not a liar. His words always had claim and a backbone, despite how distasteful the intentions behind them may be. You could not care less about what he wants to get out of you, what you want to know is what else he's keeping locked away. And what will it take to get him talking.

"The servant that caught them and sent for a raven was found killed under.... suspicious circumstances... I only received both letters now, of the girls retelling and of her death.... A dagger through the mouth what an awful way to go..." Larys speaks when you don't, watching the way you thought in silence. He wondered what you were thinking, for he was one of the only people that knew your true nature. You were a murderous woman, manipulative, vigilant, and vengeful... Behind those stupid smiles and shy fronts was an enchantress, turning the tides in her favor. And now an outsider trespasses on your waters. Larys knows more than anything that you were willing to guard your throne from vultures at any cost.

You didn't like coming second to anybody, and for a moment he prays for the prince...

"I understand that this must be difficult for you, but if you are ever in need... I'll be sure to be of service in this trying time..." You scoff at that, the sound reverberating through the room. There it was. The bait he dangles so tempting in front of foolish fish.

"At what cost Ser Larys, I am no fool. I know everything from you must always come at a price." Holding your chin up high, you crossed your arms and leaned back into your seat. Having calmed down a little, you plan a rainstorm of hell fire.

"Not this time... You see, this girl that had somehow managed to enthrall the prince.... She is a nuisance on my side so you can insure my allegiance is with you. As Lord of Harrenhal I make it a point to know everything and anything going on in my own castle, even if I'm not present. I can ensure you that I have eyes everywhere." You ignore the way your stomach turns at the thought of someone else captivating Aemond as you thought on his proposal. It would be quite useful to have someone with such connections on your side. Shaking your head as you corrected yourself. There were no sides nor factions, you were not at war with Aemond. Yet.

"Can you tell me the name of this girl?"

"She goes by Alys Rivers, you may know of her...." It was almost comical enough to force a laugh.

A bastard Strong... How truly ironic and cliche. It would seem that the very vendetta he had against his own nephews would be the cause of his own demise. The pain that rushed through you didn't burn anymore, instead it courses through your veins in bittersweetness, fueling your vengeance and need for revenge. You didn't care all that much about closure, instead looking for all the ways you can induce the same pain onto Aemond. You were patient to a fault, all the unwanted emotions manifesting into pettiness and spite.

To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must be precise and conniving, you couldn't afford any spill ups. In truth the stature he built of himself was great; intimidating, undying, a menace. But beneath all that you knew he was still the same little boy that got bullied for not having a dragon. Scars like that cannot be grown out of, especially when they've left such permanent imprints on him. You were not going to evoke One Eye Aemond who rides the largest dragon, but rather the young little boy he held so dearly to his heart. That was the Aemond you wanted to hurt. Not the man that gave you blank stares and barely spoke any words to you. Not the man that dares call himself your husband when he has not deserved the name. The neglected outcast freak, that was who you were going to murder.

How dare he choose her over you. Suddenly it clouds your vision. All the violence, the fire, the insecurities. Your inability to think clear, the pride and pain of being his wife. Your lust and distaste for the man that caused you such pain. It ruptures your heart. You would trade love for greed just to induce the same feelings onto him. Oh how you wanted to ruin him. Ruin her for him. By the end of it you wanted him begging at your knees, crying apologies. Who does Alys Rivers think she was to steal your husband away from you. And who does Aemond think he was to assume you wouldn't retaliate. Or perhaps he knew and simply didn't care... That was a common theme in your husband, not caring about you. He was more of a fool than you thought of if he thinks you were just going to stand for this and take it.

No. You wanted an eye for an eye. Or more plainly, a heart for a heart.

"Her existence threatens you." Speaking lowly as you projected your thoughts onto Ser Larys. You aren't the only one to have a reason to hate the aforementioned wench. You may be hazed with hatred but you are not blind. There was a reason Ser Larys chose to come to you instead of Aemond with this information. Without him you wouldn't have known anything, and surely the favor of a prince would be worth more than you could ever give him. Yet he came knocking at your door.

"I am the sole heir to my fathers title, if that bastard had somehow managed to persuade the prince then my very seat is challenged. An outsider amongst the natives. I need to ensure my status, my lady. Can I trust you on this." His words were frantic almost, his long brown hair falling over his face as he leaned in close. Ser Larys was pleading, in his own way...

"You can. Now, my friend... what will you have me do?" The smile that spread across your face was sinister as you prompted his guidance. Though it was more rhetorical, you knew what had to be done.

"Seduce Aemond. Capture his attention enough so that he begins to question his love for her." Love? Was that burned between them? Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you thought on it more. It wasn't a bad design, far better than you stabbing a knife through Alys in front of Aemond. Only one minor flaw.

"And how shall I manage to do that!? The man can barely look at me!"

"To the unseeing eye it appears that way. Though the amount of times I've caught his gaze lingering longer than it should is great. You are a smart woman y/n, I'm sure you can figure out a way to break through his barrier."

Could it be that all this time you just hadn't noticed him looking at you? Regardless that was irrelevant as you pondered your first move. You and Larys had the advantage, Aemond doesn't know that you knew of his infidelity. And as far as you're aware your image as his good little wife was still intact, so perhaps you would play into that role more. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize that you've grown stiff as a board. It dulls you as you realize that you've come to be the very woman you pray for. Desperately lost in their marriage. Endlessly dreaming, hoping one day Aemond would come around and play pretend with you. He was taking advantage of you without you knowing it. He sees your very being as something he can twist and turn in his palm like one of his daggers.

At a certain point he was bound to get cut.

To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must hurt that little boy. It had been weeks since your night with Ser Larys and silently you had been scheming. So far you remained indifferent, trying hard to make sure you aren't faltering by acting the same. It was a hard task that you've come to dread as you knew the cold truth behind his behaviors. At day he would be with you, by night he would be deep in her. You only began to notice the missing hours in your days and curse yourself for being so foolish. You thought long and hard about how you were going to approach the situation. Dissecting your husband under a magnifying glass whilst hiding behind timid smiles. And soon enough your praying and mute jealousy had manifested into the form of a golden haired beast bearing red and gold.

Ser Tyrin Lannister...

A handsome, charming young lord that has come to pay the crown a visit... Though you saw him for what he truly was, a prideful and egotistical man that's blinded by arrogance. The perfect pawn for your game. Truthfully, you only picked him out because he beared such acute resemblance to prince Aegon. The only difference in appearance was instead of the famed silver hair his was pure gold. You hoped that your choice of companion would strike a nerve with Aemond, seeing that he's spent so much of his youth being tormented by the image of the man.

And by the way he was glaring daggers at you and Tyrin, your expectations fall true. It was easy to manipulate the Lannister with sugar coated words and flirtatious giggles, the problem lied with Aemond taking the bait. Up until this point you were basically going off theory, but now you can trust that Aemond was a possessive man.

Your laugh rings through the room as you giggle at something Tyrin whispered in your ear. The man was indeed charismatic which made talking to him easy enough. If you hadn't diluted him to nothing but a playing piece you would have found yourself actually enjoying his company. You had been acquainted for quite some time now, ever since his first arrival, and everyday without fail you were with him. Slowly but surely you had began replacing Aemond with Tyrin in your life. It was him you went on walks with, it was him you dinned with. There was no doubt that Lannisters had vanity and he was aware of it, he was aware of how his gracious gifts won you over and softened you. Or so he thought. In weeks time you had managed to accumulate a collection of gold and ruby jewelries from the man himself.

Something Aemond has not taken kindly to, seeing the way his jaw would clench everytime you adorned the treasures. At this point you had purposely made a show of it, parading in a red and gold gown with massive ruby earrings dangling from your ears. All while you showcased a brilliant ruby and gold choker around your neck. You looked more like Tyrin's wife than Aemond's and perhaps that was your goal. Though honestly your endgame gets lost on you as you're having so much fun toying with him. No doubt Aemond had begun to pick up on your absence and it was hilarious to see. His worries and insecurities must've gotten the best of him because now you can't go anywhere without him trailing behind. He was always there, watching in silence, perhaps judging you but you did not care. The fact of the matter was, whatever you were doing was working.

"If you stare any longer I'm sure a fire will start to burn." Aegon says dryly from beside his brother, looking down at his empty chalice before placing it down all together. The elder rolled his eyes at the familiar 'hmmm' that escaped Aemond as he opens his mouth to say something but he turns mute. Instead he narrowed his eyes at the sight.

Contrary to popular belief, Aegon was not a complete fucking asshole. Well... sometimes he wasn't... He sensed his brothers discomfort greatly and although he didn't want to pry, he wanted to know what laid within the inner workings of Aemond's mind. Call it care or intrigue, but he loved gossip like an old widowed wife. Fact of the matter was, Aegon Targaryen was painful self aware and it didn't take much to figure out that Tyrin Lannister was him in lions clothing. Of course Tyrin was him if he actually tried and excelled at things. His drunken habits aside, he wanted to know why his sister in law was so taken by him with golden hair....

"He looks like me..." Aegon turns to his brother only to notice him swiftly walking away at his words. He turns to the man once more, brows pulling in contempt. Maybe he should have been born a Lannister....

To say that Aemond was irritated was an understatement. It was all so ridiculous. The fact that you were throwing yourself so carelessly for a man such as that imbecile. All Lannisters were dazzling armors with nothing truly potent inside. They were blinded by shine and glimmer just as much as everyone else was from their looks. He wouldn't admit it out loud but the resemblance Ser Tyrin had to his brother was uncanny. And he wouldn't dare admit that these unbecoming feelings were derived from that fact alone. Call Aemond what you will, a bitter husband, a possessive man, but he did not like what was playing out in front of him.

Over the passing weeks you had devoted your attention to that man and him alone. From the moment you awoke you were dressed in red and gold, throughout the day you were by his side. He no longer saw you and you no longer sought for his attention. He thought it'd be nice, to finally get you off his back but everyday he grows increasingly impatient. Were you not his wife? He knows he doesn't have a proper claim over you especially with how he's been acting but he still owned his emotions. And he was allowed to feel however he wanted to. Although he doesn't speculate any infidelity from your end, mainly because you weren't the type in his eye, it was plain that you were taken by a lion. Whether you knew it or not, you were dancing with a beast and Aemond would not take such defeat.

In all honesty, he's certain you aren't fucking Tyrin. Now perhaps that was just wishful thinking fueling his denial but you weren't exactly the type. All your marriage he's known you as nothing but dull... The perfect embodiment of who his parents wanted him to marry. Kind, respectable, a push over... In his opinion you were devoted to a fault. Seeing you as nothing but mindless doll who had no other choice but to fall in line and agree with whoever owned them. Hence why when seeking companionship he purposely chose some the exact opposite of you. Alys was older by a few years and had all the experience he craved. It was no question why that he sought for her instead of you. Word around the castle was that you were thought to be too pious to succumb to sins of temptation unless duty was in order.

He hadn't meant to grow so attached to Alys but she was exhilarating. Everytime they were apart he yearned for her body. She was captivating and alluring in all senses, intoxicating him. With long brown hair and a figure that could make the gods envious, she held him with a death grip. His Alys. Aemond knew that what he had with her wasn't love but more so addiction, but he didn't care what it was just as long as he got to have more of it. The differences between you and Alys were stark to see, you were at polars end. But what drawned him to her was the fact that she was so aware of her touch. He liked women that knew how to wield a weapon, and he quite honestly couldn't picture you doing the same. They called her many names for her beauty, searing her as a witch for her dominion over man.

If he wanted an enchantress you would give it to him. You would be better than Alys in every way imaginable. If he wanted someone who can satisfy him then you would drive him into the brink of madness with your touch. You wanted to suffocate and flush out Aemond Targaryen till he was no more than a shell. It started off slow. Switching your clothing in favor of another, something more hugging and accentuating. Your old gowns so colorful and modest were now replaced with darker tones that showed off your body well. It was an odd switch but you felt more comfortable this way strangly enough.

Then you traded innocent stares for something more bidden, your once doe eyes turning siren as you realize the effects of you had. Perhaps Aemond cheating on you was a blessing in disguise. You only now realize how good it felt to be wanted. All throughout court, men and women a like would fall in line for you. They would bow if you commanded so. You looked like someone to be taken seriously and not so much like a walking virtue. Everytime you entered a room eyes would be on you, the silent respect your new aura demanded was intoxicating. You knew who you were and what you were capable of, it was time for them now to know too.

It was empowering. You felt Immortal and unchallenged. To have them speak so nervously to you, the shy stares and permanent blushes. Your new change had prompted many curiosities but what captures people so was your attitude. Cunning, sly and quick witted, all the aspects of your being that you suppressed. You had never felt this in control all your life, like the tides were moved by your will.

All your life you've been taught to be one way despite your true wishes. You painted yourself as the image of what a lady was supposed to be without understanding why you were doing it. Or who you were doing it for. Perhaps this is why the change was so liberating, because you no longer chose to hide yourself. Maybe this was who you were all along and just needed a push to embrace it. You no longer felt like you were wearing a mask and truthfully you don't think you could ever put it on again. Not when they all doted around you. Not they all craved for you. Not when you had such power over desires.

They all fell into line... all but Aemond.... but you had something special for him. For now you let his judgment cloud him. You doubt that he's picked up on your facade faltering. It was quite strange to embrace the very values your teaching went against. Sensuality, unkept emotions, temptation. Having been guided to act one way only to realize that people yearned for the other more. To switch from being subdued to domineering. You no longer let people tell you what to do and how truly inebriating it was.

〄

"You are intoxicating...."

You know not how much time has passed, only consumed on Tyrin's lips as he grasped your body all over. Laughing when his teeth grazed your neck, you threw your head back in bliss. Maybe this was what the Septa was trying to keep you away from, the overwhelming sensations of sex. It rushes through you, sending your skin on fire in it's wake. God, he knew how to please you so. Giggling into your ear as his golden locks curtain the sinful things he whispered, Tyrin's fingers expertly yanks your skirt up. You let him pin you to the bed, a stupid smile spreading across your face. If such an act was so bad then why on earth did it feel so good?

How exhilarating it was to be desired, to be wanted and fondled with care. And to think, all this time you had spent rotting away in your bed chambers waiting for Aemond. If he would not satisfy you then you would satisfy yourself, fulfillment taking the form of a rogue lover. Perhaps it was messy to set your eyes on the men of the court but maybe that's what you wanted. You like the thrill of getting caught, liked the rumors that murmured through the halls. Although you hadn't slept with anyone but Tyrin, you couldn't contain yourself from teasing the occasional lord and lady. Naturally, word got around of your effects and of you and Tyrin's speculated affairs. And not so long after, word finally traveled to your dear stupid husband. Though it wasn't until he caught you in the middle of the act did he finally take it seriously. Up until this point they were but toothless claims, not believing his tight laced wife would ever be capable enough to find her own back bone.

"Faster.... faster..." You say through half lidded eyes, blurry vision locked onto the man in between your legs. Your fingers intertwined with his golden hair as you guide his head at your will. Body heaving and grinding up against his mouth. You pull at your skirts more to get a better view of his face.

All was falling into place and you would make your first strike as footsteps approached up the hall. You were nearing ecstasy as your eyes stay trained onto the door. You had perfectly timed everything and in a manner of seconds you would land such a blow so harsh that it would shatter Aemonds views of you. His boring and dull, obedient little wife coming undone by a man that was not him. You suppress a moan as Tyrin slips his middle finger in you, fucking you in and out as his lips wrap around your swollen clit. Almost there, almost there....

Oh it was all too much yet not enough at the same time. It floods you, sending you over the edge as you desperately grasp onto the bed covers. And at the sound of the door opening you let out a series of gasps turned moans as you lock eyes with the cause of your downfall. The look on his face was satisfaction enough, but you wanted more. Eyes closing in bliss as your head falls onto the bed, a laugh so sinister rings through the room. You pull your skirt over to hide your exposed skin as you smile up at Tyrin. Drawing him close to place a long loving kiss on his lips, you nod your head out the door, whispering empty promises of later. Aemond watches the whole exchange, mouth clenched and fists balled. As the man walked past him and out the door Aemond had to physically stop himself from mauling him and setting him on fire.

There was no doubt about it, he was angry. Shaking in place much like you had in your seat weeks ago. He didn't know what these emotions were blossoming in his chest but he didn't like it. It burned in a way so violent he fears that a hole may form in his chest. He does nothing for a few moments, simply standing in place eyeing you like a predator to it's prey. You do the same, putting all your body weight on your elbow as you laid on the bed unmoving. If he expected a stream of desperate apologies to fall from your mouth then he was not going to get it. You looked at eachother with much venom and alcohol. The gratification you got coursed through you as the image he had witnessed stayed forever burned in his brain.

Good. You wanted him to remember that forever. Much like you'll remember his actions towards you for eternity. Suddenly you were angry. Angry at him, angry at his fucking Alys, angry at Ser Larys. Snarling in hate as your gaze hardens you force yourself to speak.

"Get out." The words were cold, and for a moment Aemond flinches as it echoed through the walls. He does what you command, harshly shutting the door behind him and you fall onto the bed once more.

What had you done?

You were getting even. You wouldn't be here if he hadn't have provoked you first. Truthfully, you didn't know what scared you more, the fact that you could have potentially ruined your marriage or how absolutely addicting it was to inflict pain onto him. One things for certain though, you weren't done.

Aemond didn't know what to feel. He was a mess of emotions, lashing out at anything and everything in his way. A part of him knew that this was only fair yet why did it hurt him so bad? He thought he didn't care about you, thought you were a mere pawn in this game but it appeared that all this time you were playing him. All of it is a mystery to him as he begins to think on your relationship more. What parts of you were actually real, which was really you and which was his wife? Were your affections for him true and had he hurt you so? All this time he thought you were playing a role, or maybe you were. Because the girl laying on that bed laughing like the stranger was not his wife.

No, she was a demon. A succubus getting off on his pain. All of it is so confusing, the bruises you left dragging him down into the depths. Yet why did it excite him a little... Watching you like that.... Aemond feels as though he couldn't breathe, the remaining fragments of his heart shriveled at the thought of falling victim to weakness. He would not allow this, he wouldn't allow a man like Tyrin Lannister to best him and steal you away. The sorrow he felt was akin to an old friend, the bittersweetness that plagued his soul reminded him of his youth. This was a feeling he promised himself he would never endure again. The feeling of being less than and not enough. He had failed you. He had failed you so bad that you had to go seeking for another. Now he knew that he was being a hypocrite on that but he was vulnerable.

Being vulnerable was not something Aemond Targaryen was used to.

〄

"You aren't to see him again." Aemond yelled, trailing after the girl as you entered your shared chambers. The space thankfully empty as you ignored his impending attitude. Your breath quickens as you find yourself caught in a rather unpleasant situation. It had been merely an hour since that gurly sight with Ser Tyrin Lannister, and Aemond finds himself losing all remaining composure he had left with you.

"Huh?" There was something rather vexing about your tone that proved to be daggers in Aemond's ears. The way you expressed such profound boredom and taciturn, as if this conversation was an inconvenience to you. You displayed an tired exposure that puzzled him to no end because the confrontation has yet to begin. Your slack demeanor and annoyed undertone was both riddling and infuriating to Aemond.

"Ser Tyrin Lannister, you aren't allowed to see him again!" Deciding to forgo any avoidance, Aemonds tone was cut clean. He told you how it was, and he did not care about preserving feelings when you were showing such childish behavior. You would either accept never seeing that man, or any man for that matter again, or Aemond would turn to more extreme measures.

"Well... who knew it was possible to evoke such emotions from you. And here I thought you were incapable." Aemond's eye widen in shock as you put on an uncharacteristic display of theatrics. You scoffed and silently berated him with your inflection. This was a side of you he's never seen before. It was a tiny probe that was meant to provoke him by angling into his worries in a brash and unnecessary way. Aemond didn't know whether or not you were intentionally trying to anger him, but he couldn't find it in himself to care if it was deliberate or not.

"...I beg your pardon?" His words wry and barren with any emotions, genuinely taken aback.

"Well then kneel and start begging." You turn to him sharply, backing him against the door as he looked down at you in shock, yet you don't back down.

"You can't tell me what to do. But if you wish to keep believing that you have some sort of power over me, I will try my best to be more discreet with my partners." You wave your hand at him, as if done with this conversation but he was far from finished.

"I will not have you acting like a whore y/n! You are my wife and mine alone!" Aemond did not mean to call you that but as the words slip from his lips he soon finds himself regretting it. Watching the way you hesitated for a moment, a flash of hurt gleaming on your face before turning angry. He knew men have called their wives much worse but not him. His mother had always made sure he knew how to treat women. If only she knew how that back fired...

A whore....

He thought that you were a whore......

Normally you wouldn't let such meaningless words effect you so but that was exactly it, it wasn't meaningless. Not when it came from the mouth of the person you once thought the world of. Aemond used to be everything to you, and to hear that coming from him was disheartening to no end. Yes you knew that he was just angry because you pushed him so, but that fact became irrelevant as you begin to feel claustrophobic from your emotions. You felt frail, burning with a thick blanket of insecurities and rage constricting you, like a greedy serpent, ready to prey and corrupt you whole. You felt like Alice, falling into a dark rabbit hole of anxiety and panic, despair beginning to pull you down. It was all too much, and you suddenly began to feel so small. Your once defiance now subdued and replaced with the image of a shaking girl maddened. You felt afraid... not of Aemond but of your emotions...

Compose yourself, you were not going allow such disrespect and you were not going to fall into your old ways again.

"Don't play the fool, Aemond. You started this. Quite honestly what did you think was going to happen?" You yelled firmly in his face, trying so hard to push your emotions away. But thoughts of Alys tainted your mind. He would never speak to her this way. He would never act this way around her. You let the bitterness hug and empower you. The same need to hurt him reignited.

"I am simply playing the game that you started." You were reticent but in a prolix and unnecessary way. You would not reveal that he had hurt you so. Aemond opens his mouth to say something but doesn't for a few moments.

"What prompted this change..." He sounded desperate, his words breaking as he desperately searched for an answer.

"I don't know! Maybe now I don't feel the need to hide behind a mask anymore." You say to him honestly. This need for revenge and affinity for spite and pettiness, it had always been there. Aemond just didn't look at you long enough to notice it.

"I'm tired Aemond. I'm tired of doing my best to please you only for it to not be good enough!"

It wasn't just about you or Aemond being possessive anymore, it was the fact that you had reached your end. Was it so wrong to want a partner that actually loved and cared for you? Was it so wrong to want to be loved? The more you thought the more empty and hollow you felt. You can feel your soul decaying all together as anxiety crept up on you. He didn't want you.... The little voice in your head spoke. He thinks Alys is better than you..... stop... Why do you try so bad? because I must... You don't deserve to be with him... yes I do... No you don't... The voices in your head taunted, feeling feverish and flushed, you took a step back from Aemond. Suddenly afraid to be too close to him. But it did no help to calm the mean words the whirlwind through your brain. It picked at you, in a way that the thought of Alys couldn't but funny enough it was the personification of her plaguing your mind.

He doesn't think you're good enough...

I don't think you're good enough...

He doesn't think you're good enough...

We don't think you're good enough...

It's not just her anymore, the voice that invades your head is your parents speaking to you..... Then it's the King and Queen screaming... And after that it's Aegon and Helaena laughing at you...

It's Aemond talking down to you, —it's everything, it's everyone, all at once, all-consuming, suffocating and demanding. And suddenly the ability to hear is ripped from you; it's nothing. You're forced into a pliable mass being sullied, your body isn't yours anymore. It's a vessel of flooding anxiety and negative thoughts.

"I want somebody that loves me...." You say, looking at the man with such betrayal.

Be strong....

"I want a happy life with a husband that can actually stand to be in my presence. I want children of my own to fill the hole you left." You spoke after a short minute, your voice small and fragile, pleading... Aemond watches you shake and cry from where you stand. He had done this to you...

"I have spent so long loving you but that love has never served me..." Your words were soft, a timbre of spite concealed with broken confidence. You hated this... hated how you got in your own head and ruined your own self esteem... Pain feeding off your scorched heart and the embers of your love for Aemond. It was agonizing... agonizing to watch him look at you cry like this. But perhaps he needed to see you this way.

He had hurt you so badly and the moment he finally got a taste of his own medicine he ordered you to stop. It was the consuming fear of not being enough for him that killed you so, the thought of not being able to live up to the expectations. And for Aemond to stand there and call you a whore when all you ever did was try to love him.

"Forgive me my dear wife... I did not know that you have been suffering so badly all this time. Had I known...." He softens for a moment, trying to get you to understand whilst failing to consider that you didn't need to, he did.

"But you did! You knew and you still went off in search for something I cannot give you. Had you have known would it have changed anything?" You scream in broken anger and despair.

"No..."

You never learn, hearing it in your own head was a lot different than hearing it out loud. It will never be the same, it will always be ten times worse. Aemond had just confirmed your words. Of course you knew that he thought this way but it hurt a lot more. Just like that night with Ser Larys. Your shoulders slump in defeat, frowning as tears began to prick at your eyes. Aemond takes notice of this, swiftly cupping your cheeks with his large hands and forcing you to look him.

"No, because either way you would have been discontent. I cannot give you the life that you wanted." Yet you can give it to her?

"Why not!?" You yelled with such anger and rage, ripping his hands off you. Your voice echoing through the room as you cussed the boy out. You were frustrated beyond measure and above all else heartbroken. Was it truly too much to ask for? You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having him treat you like this. Maybe weeks ago you would've swoon at the thought of his hands caressing you. But that was then and this was now.

"I am not made for love..." You fear that you can slay Vhagar with the great efforts it takes you now to remain calm. That was his excuse? A pitiful one at that. He had you standing there.... sad and broken... and all he can come up with was that love wasn't in his nature? Pain is the perfect word to describe this sensation oppressing your chest at those words. This doesn't stop you from peering up at him in question. You felt a calling to yell at him but you couldn't, no matter how badly you wanted to you. Staying baffled, every cry dying in the back of your throat. Your visage contorting in somber at Aemonds blasphemy.

"I don't believe you!" You yell at him, pushing at his chest when he tries to hug you. You break down in his arms, collapsing onto the floor as you weep into him. Aemond desperately held you close, oh what has he done to you.... He felt a myriad of emotions wash over him. Guilt, sadness, shame... He was ashamed he pushed you to this point. So he held the woman he barely knew well enough to call his wife.

"Tell me Aemond! Does your heart belong to another? Tell me now, please and I'll stop." You didn't know what you meant by stop. Stop trying? Stop loving? But if he said the words you would end it so. Aemond looks down at you, hugging onto the portrait that was once his wife.

"No! No one has captured my heart, those who came second to you, they mean nothing. They are nothing..." He says quickly, his words ringing truthful. He didn't know what prompted this new change but he panicked at the thought of losing you.

"Prove it to me." You whispered slowly. Uttering the words in a tone so cold and firm, your gaze locks onto Aemond's. Your wide eyes morphing into something else as a small smirk pulls at your lips. Distraught gone from your face as the water flow of tears halt.

"Bring me the head of Alys Rivers."

"How do you know..." He looks at you in shock for a moment, your expression ridden of distress and replaced with something sinister.... Watching his expression carefully, you place your hands on his shoulders and leaned into his ear.

"Do it and I will be yours again." It came out as a pur, a tempting whisper urging him, and Aemond found himself liking the way it sounded. That was Aemond's cord. He was as possessive as he was jealous. Much like you, he didn't like being second to anyone, but would that be enough. Turning your head to meet his gaze, it would be so easy to kiss you but he keeps a firm hold on your waist.

"If not then I will take it myself." Nodding your head briefly, you remove his arms from around you. Standing up, you walk over to your shared bed, wiping away the rogue tears before sitting down. Aemond's brows furrowed in confusion, you were much more composed now and hidden behind your eyes was a sense of coldness.

"It appears that I have much to learn about you my lovely wife. But If it will please you then as you wish." Aemond stands soon after you, nodding his head as he planned to make amends.

"You're willing to kill her just like that?" Turning your head to him slightly, you questioned where his loyalty lied.

"I told you she means nothing to me... Did you think otherwise?" His sly expression displayed a certain vainglory that caused you to turn away. So maybe you had thought otherwise but your insecurities had to come from somewhere.

"If you're lying to me Aemond I will have your other eye." Threatening may not be the answer but you liked the hesitancy it triggered from him.

"I suppose this is my fault.... you don't trust me." Nodding his head as he walked slow steps towards you, Aemond kneels down in front of the bed and takes your hands in his.

"You have given me every reason not to trust you." With a stiff lip, you turn from him.

"I know... But let me make it right." Guiding your chin with his fingers to make you look at him, you noticed a hint of regret and shame swimming in his eye.

"The road to forgiveness will not be easy." You tell him firm.

"I know... my love." You ignore the butterflies that awoke from that title and watch as he rose to grab his riding coat. And so it begins...

༺━━━━━━━━━༻༒༺━━━━━━━━━༻

Autho's Note:

Let me know if you guys want more! There's more to this story but I chopped it up into two parts because I wasn't done and I wanted to have something out for you guys. I swear to god I drop fics unannounce then dissappear for months lmao.

- Armoni

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risuola · 11 days

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ENTRY #5 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU

My eyes are glossed, And my heartbeat skips, I crave, I am lost In the nectar of your lips.

cw: arranged marriage!au, fluff — 2,0k words

a/n: you welcomed the series so warmly and lovely, that I made this part longer. it's sickly sweet, it's fluffy — enjoy!

series masterlist

“What the hell am I doing–“

You groaned. Again and again. Sighing and throwing your hands into the air, helpless and hopeless. Resignation crawling up your skin, threatening to fight and win with your stubbornness and determination. You felt the characteristics you proud yourself with falter and peel away along with your pride and dignity and you found it ironic — pathetic — that years of harsh trainings, of bloody torture you endured, years of fights and pain did nothing to break you and now you’re losing your mind over a goddamn mochi.

Mochi.

A dessert made of rice dough, sweet and objectively adorable with its round shape and sugary filling. If someone asked you how much time you spent in the kitchen already, heating up the glutinous rice flour, mixing and kneading the dough, you wouldn’t know. Hours, most likely. Fighting a battle that you weren’t ready for, mixing ingredients, adding water, whisking, and then kneading again, burning your fingers and pads of your palms more times than you’d ever admit. And you hated it. Hated the corn starch that dusted all around the place, the sticky mass of heated rice flour that you tried to get just right and above all, you hated how much time it took you before it finally started to look like something you can work with.

“There we go,” you mumbled, kneading and stretching the dough between your hands and the marble countertop. There was a reason you were a fighter, not a cook and the current state of your kitchen made enough of a proof. Mochi now, cleaning later.

The fillings were delicious, you had to pat yourself on the back. You were very lucky today to grab the sweetest strawberries you ever ate. They tasted like summer, like hot, tropical heaven and you fought with yourself before you ate them all. The cream you whipped turned out just perfectly thick and fluffy. Then the green edamame paste — your husband’s favorite — came out just as good. Decadent almost, smooth and sweet, with perfect, bright green color and texture of a cloud. Half of your cream you mixed up with melted chocolate and while happy with the insides, you were still a little concerned about the dough.

You’re not gonna be defeated by a rice dough.

You managed to roll out the mass very thinly, perfectly, and began forming mochi, which turned out to be much easier to do than you anticipated.

Take the dough.

Scoop on the filling.

Close the dough.

Roll.

Repeat.

You filled up a tray, all of the balls prettily displayed on top of a parchment paper and you took it upon yourself to have a taste of each one. Delicious. Absolutely mind-blowing.

To the fridge they go.

Now clean.

* * *

Satoru got home around 7 pm — typical, if nothing comes up or hold him at work. His job as a teacher, you learned it quickly, was repetitive, predictable. He’s out the door just shy of 10 am and back near the evening, before the soft pinks and oranges of the summer turn into nightly blues and greys and you grew to appreciate the routine that settled into your lives. Spending most of the days separately made the first weeks of marriage much more bearable. It gave you and him enough time to get used to the new situation and cool off after many fights you had. But that was about to change and you were meaning to tell him today, sweetening the deal with mochi.

Oh right, mochi!

It got you a little too excited for Satoru to ignore, you looked a little brighter than usually, nervous even and he found it concerningly amusing. You’re rarely happy to see him back, he’s more used to see you ignore him than to greet him, and even if so – you’d usually pass him with a hi or an attempt of a small talk that he hated. Gojo couldn’t tell what was it that made you so much more vibrant that evening, you looked thrilled, your eyes glimmered in the dim lights of the house. You almost looked… happy? To see him? No, that couldn’t be it.

“Did something happen today? You look oddly excited,” he spoke, following his usual routine of taking off his uniform jacket and putting it neatly on a hanger in the hallway, folding his blindfold in half to have it ready in the morning and washing his hands and face. The soft, dry towel soaked up the excess wetness from his skin as he patted it away, pointing his ocean-blue eyes toward you expectantly.

“Well, yes, kind of,” you replied and dropped onto the soft cushions of the sofa in the living room. You twisted your body slightly and looked at him, and he got the hint because few seconds later, he sat down next to you. “Two things. First, I got an offer to work as a teacher in your school. Yaga contacted me–“

“You are the new teacher for the second years?” Satoru cut you and you couldn’t read him. A slight surprise was all you could decipher from the expression of his features.

“Yes. Well, not yet,” you sighed, “before I agree I wanted to ask you what you think.”

“And you’ll do as I say? Since when you’re doing as you’re told?” He teased and for a moment you considered eating all the mochi yourself. Maybe tying him to the chair and devouring it right in front of his eyes? You opened your mouth to say something rather unpleasant before he spoke again. “If you’re asking me for permission, we both know you don’t need it. I’m sure kids will benefit from having you to lead them.”

“Are you willing to be civil with me if we spend more time along each other during the day? Last thing I need is to argue with you more than we already do.”

“We don’t argue that much lately,” he protested and you huffed out a chuckle, nodding in agreement. You didn’t fight at all, if you think about it. It seemed as if slowly you were getting used to… everything.

“So, you’re fine with the idea?”

“I’m fine with the idea, yes,” he said, running a hand through his white, slightly damp hair and brushing it back. You took in his features, allowing yourself to just stare at the man you married, because even if wedded, you see him no more than his students are. He still sleeps on the couch; he still spends most of his time outside. “You’re staring.”

“Why would I–“

“I am,” you confirmed, shamelessly and it made him chuckle. “Talking about staring, close your eyes.”

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” you ordered, getting up from the comfortable seat you were sunken into. “Please?”

“I’m honestly concerned,” he said but reluctantly lowered his eyelids. As if it made him any less aware of his surroundings. “What are you planning?”

“Don’t peek.”

Quickly, you padded into the kitchen and uncovered the mochi you kept out of the fridge for about ten minutes now. You took the tray and a glass of water and got back to where Satoru was situated. With his eyes closed, comfortable against the cushions. He felt your weight sinking onto the pillows next to him and a hint of something sweet in the air.

“Open up,” your voice made him hum, still uncertain but curious nonetheless. ‘Open up’ was such a foreign command for him to follow and the small amount of trust that was secure between you and him had to suffice for him to comply. “There we go,” you almost whispered and Satoru slightly flinched at the first contact of his mouth with, what felt like, a blob of cold unknown substance. For a reason he couldn’t really rationalize, he grabbed onto your waist to balance himself, even if there was nothing to throw him off.

Slowly, with caution, Gojo closed his mouth, allowing his teeth to meet the dough, go through it. Mochi. He recognized the sweet taste of his very favorite treat immediately but something about what was just melting against his tongue felt different to what he’s used to. The rice envelope was softer but chewy, sweetened just perfectly and the paste inside — green bean — had a texture of silk and butter, a luscious heaven itself. He felt it spreading along his taste buds, warming against the insides of his cheeks. A perfect mixture of fluffy inside and glutinous outside. So sweet, so delicious.

“Oh my god,” he whimpered. A sound so foreign, that it almost surprised you if not for the very vibrant wash of pleasure that relaxed his features. Just as the mochi melted in his mouth, he melted against the couch.

“Was it good?” You asked, while the answer was relatively clear from what you had a chance to witness. “I made them for you and they are not perfect yet but–“

“You made this mochi for me?”

Satoru’s bright blue eyes snapped open and his grip on your waist tightened. A shock pushed to the front of his expression, he blinked — once, twice — before you nodded slowly. Then he followed the direction of your gaze; his own landing on the tray full neat rows of plump rice balls, so perfectly imperfect against the dark wood below them. He could tell some had a green undertone, the edamame filling, and some were looking white and plain. Next row seemed to have chocolate inside and he could catch the hint of it in the air.

“You made all of this? With your hands?”

“From scratch, yeah,” you nodded, reaching for another one. “Chocolate.”

Being fed by you — his wife — felt odd, unfamiliar, and yet the subtle brush of your fingers against his lips whenever you gently pushed the doughy ball into his open mouth felt just right. Satoru thought he could get used to it, and the mochi.

“So you’re not only a good cook,” you’re not, but you hummed. “But also you can make mochi? If we weren’t already married, I would have asked you to marry me now.”

“That easy, huh?”

“That easy.”

You shook your head, visibly suppressing a giggle and Gojo hoped you wouldn’t hold it. It’s only now that he’s learning how pretty is your smile, how your eyes crinkle every time you allow your face to relax and take on a pattern of joy. He likes the shape your lips form, how they stretch whenever you’re happy and how your brows lift up just slightly above your half-closed lids. He wished you’d let yourself burst out laughing, but instead you shook your head yet again and let out a sigh of content. Good enough.

You reached onto the tray again. This time it was the white blob of doughy goodness hanging heavy between your dainty fingers. “This one is my favorite.”

There was no need to tell him twice. Satoru opened his mouth, eager for the sweetness you called your favorite although from your words he had a suspicion what was inside. Strawberries. You love strawberries. He learned that during the wedding celebration, when you eyed the fruit on his piece of the cake with the most adorable envy he’s ever seen – and then, those very same eyes glittered with pleasure when he exchanged his plate with yours. He remembers how you left the red, plump strawberry for the last bite, how you sighed with content as you bit into the juicy flesh of the fruit, how you nearly purred despite the stressful predicament you were placed into.

“Divine,” Gojo purred himself, as the flavors mixed in his mouth. The crisp, fresh strawberry, along the velvety cream and chewy dough made for an experience he could only compare to orgasm.

He wanted more.

Craved more and he blames it on you that the moment you sunk your teeth into the sweet treat, he leaned closer. His mind went blank when he wrapped his own mouth around the half mochi that sticked out, his lips brushed against yours. A drop of red juice run down his chin, wet and sticky against his skin. He didn’t care. Greedy for more, for you, he leaned in even more, tempted by the sweet taste of your sugar-powdered lips flush to his own.

You gasped. Purred. In surprise, in pleasure, or both.

The feeling unfamiliar, addicting, syrupy.

You should stop it.

You wanted more.

He should stop it.

He wanted more.

It was slow, sloppy and nothing but strawberry and cream.

taglist: @kinny-away , @anan-baban , @lotomber , @netflix-imagines , @kawliflo , @nishloves , @ghostfacefricker6969 , @thejujvtsupost , @yozora7154 , @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost , @ae-mius , @ropickle , @chokesonspit

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indigovigilance · 7 months

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The Final Fifteen is about Terry Pratchett's Death

read on Ao3

The final fifteen is obviously a major plot point, and serves a role in a story that was written long before Terry Pratchett was ever diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. But the scene itself wasn’t written until just a few years ago, during the writing of Season 2. In fact, the scene came about during a park bench conversation between Neil Gaiman and John Finnemore.

Others have noted that the non-romantic kiss that signals the story moving into the third act is a Neil Gaiman staple. The function of such a kiss, from Gaiman’s perspective, is to communicate.

In 2023 we are seeing a lot of stories written by men, for men, about men who are best friends and discover that their friendship can go deeper than the norms of society would usually allow; that platonic and romantic love are not so far apart, and perhaps the better word for a relationship that can be described this way is intimacy.

Neil Gaiman has made it clear in interviews that his friendship with Terry Pratchett was deeply intimate. They began collaborating on what would become Good Omens in the 1980’s, endured a tumultuous experience together through the first publication, wherein Neil offered to martyr himself on behalf of Terry if the book failed, and then spent the better part of two decades touring the world, meeting the people who loved their work. Neil would even off-handedly remark that Terry’s fans were so cheerful, and Neil’s seemed like they were ready to kill themselves; wouldn’t it be nice if they got married? From the outside, it looks very much as if Terry was Aziraphale-coded, and Neil was Crowley-coded, working together in an unexpected partnership to make the world a little bit more tolerable for the humans inhabiting it. I am not conjecturing that Neil and Terry had romantic inclinations the way their fictional characters do, but I think it is fair to say that their opposites-attract intimacy became an important part of who each of them were.

In 2007 Terry Pratchett was diagnosed with posterior cortical atrophy, a rare form of Alzheimer’s. As the disease progressed, he began to lose himself, and knew that the person he used to be was slipping away. He wanted to end his life on his own terms, and die as himself, but England did not and still does not allow for voluntary euthanasia or assisted suicide. He advocated for the right to die but never achieved it, and ultimately succumbed to the disease in 2015. Neil Gaiman has spoken a lot on the topic of death, and one answer of his that resonated with me reads:

Mostly it feels terrible. It even feels terrible when it’s someone who has been in a lot of pain for a long time or has not really been there for a long time and you know that Death has in some ways been a blessing: suddenly you are mourning the whole person.

It doesn’t get easier as you age. It gets stranger. The point where you realise how many people you used to know and like who aren’t there any longer, and you cannot talk to them or see them or laugh with them is painful in a way that I had never expected. The first time that someone you had a romantic relationship with dies and you realise that there had been moments both of you shared and now you are the sole custodian of those moments and one day you will be gone and they will be lost forever is peculiarly strange and hard.

~~~

The entire show is seeded with references to Terry Pratchett, but the most important one is the one that’s missing. Neil Gaiman cameoed as a sleeping moviegoer in S1E4, but a long time ago, he and Terry had discussed cameoing as sushi restaurant-goers, because sushi was weirdly prominent in the book. That cameo would have been in S1E1. But when it came time to do it, Neil couldn’t. Not without Terry.

Neil: I was gonna say our location is a Chinese restaurant we’d had turned into a sushi restaurant. So Terry and I, Terry Pratchett and I, had a standing… not even a standing joke, just a standing plan, that we were going to have sushi - there was going to be a scene in Good Omens where sushi was eaten and we were gonna be extras, we were gonna sit in the background, eating sushi while it was done. And I was so looking forward to this and, so I wrote this scene with it being sushi, even though Terry was gone, with that in mind and I thought: Oh, I’ll sit and I’ll eat lots of sushi as an extra, this will be my scene as an extra, I’ll just be in the background. And then, on the day, or a couple of days before, I realized that I couldn’t do it.

Douglas: You never told me this before either. I might have pushed you into doing it, had I known. I think you were right not to tell me.

Neil: I was keeping it to me self ‘cause I was always like: Oh, maybe I’ll be… this will be my cameo. And then I couldn’t. I was just so sad, ‘cause Terry wasn’t there. And it was probably the day that I missed Terry the most of all of the filming - it was just this one scene ‘cause it was written for Terry and all of the sushi meals we’d ever had and all of the strange way that sushi ran through Good Omens.

~~~

In the Final Fifteen, it is clear that Crowley and Aziraphale want to stay together. They love each other. They each know that the other loves them. There’s nothing that needs to be said, no convincing that their bond is true and real and precious.

But Aziraphale has to go to Heaven, and Crowley cannot follow him there.

I cannot speculate what it must have been like for Neil to endure losing a friend who, though I’m sure he desperately wanted to still be in his life, he also knew that life had become a burden to him, and grieved that Terry was not able to choose the time and manner of his departure from this Earth. This sort of complex grief, we fan-ficcers know, is the kind that is often best processed through story-telling.

I think that what we see Crowley going through in the Final Fifteen, alongside its importance to the story arc of Good Omens overall, is Neil processing his grief at losing his friend Terry Pratchett, and even the kiss, that violent, terrible, awful kiss, was the symbolic representation of Neil saying goodbye.

#neil gaiman #terry pratchett #aziraphale #crowley #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ivoc #this meta ended up being only about 2/3 the length of my usual metas and somehow that feels appropriate because Terry's life ended too soon #and the jarring brevity of this piece parallels that feeling of sudden unexpected loss #for me anyways I don't know about you guys #if this made your eyes even slightly moist you are obligated to reblog to help someone else feel their feels #I don’t make the rules #but them is the rules #blessed by Beelzebub

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navybrat817 · 6 months

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Mission Report

Pairings: Incubus!Stucky x Enhanced!Female Reader, Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Incubus!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: After a night with the two demons, Brock comes to collect your body and faces the fury of all three of you. Word Count: Over 4k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, threesome, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, spitroasting, blood, violence (shooting, stabbing, and more), physical and mental torture, dark elements, death, revenge, implied noncon, possessive behavior, supernatural elements, Incubus Stucky (that's a warning, lovelies!). A/N: Fic #10 and final fic for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! I had to revisit my incubi the day before Halloween and this is a direct follow up to Ready to Comply. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Less than a day passed since Bucky and Steve claimed you as their own, but it felt like you always belonged to them. You were their eternal award for their capture. They were your reward for the pain you endured. The three of you would scorch the earth together.

Your captors weren't strong enough to endure the flames.

As you lay naked on the floor as instructed, you counted the footsteps as the squad members got closer. There were three pairs of heavy boots, one set which belonged to Brock Rumlow. You almost pushed yourself up when fiery anger coursed through your veins. You wanted him turned to ash just so you could watch the wind blow him away into nothingness. It would be glorious to smile in the face of his demise.

“She feels your rage, Buck. Reign it in,” Steve ordered from where he sat in the corner.

“No,” Bucky spoke in an almost laidback tone from the opposite corner. “Let her feel it.”

In the very short time they bound you to them, you figured out that Steve was the more assertive of the two. It didn't mean Bucky wasn't forceful when he had to be. At the moment though, he wanted you to feel a bit more of his impulsive side.

“Now isn’t the time,” Steve chastised, making Bucky scoff in reply.

You lost the concept of time the day you were unwillingly taken under Hydra's wing. Counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds did you no good as you waited for whatever horror they decided to unleash upon you. The days were no longer a precious gift, but a stark reminder that you were closer to death.

A sound reminiscent of a snarl escaped as you opened your mouth. “Hydra took everything from me,” you grumbled as angry tears sprang to your eyes. “I want their blood to stain the ground. I want it to paint the walls.”

Thanks to the demons in your cell, your demons, you would get your revenge. You would live to fight again. And you would live to serve them. You promised them forever, after all.

An odd sense of comfort surrounded you and allowed you to breathe a bit easier. “We can feel your pain, sweetheart,” Steve whispered.

Bucky hummed, the warmth doubling within your chest. “We can also feel your strength, doll.”

“We'll spill their blood,” the blonde promised as you blinked the tears away. “But not if you're impatient. We need you to act docile when they take you out of the room.”

“Stevie's right. We know you're angry. We all are. They'll pay. Trust us,” the brunette agreed. “And we'll have lots of fun along the way.”

Demons were many things and played lots of tricks, but one thing they wouldn't do was lie to you. It allowed you to let the hurt go for the time being. “I'll behave,” you whispered when the footsteps stopped in front of the door.

“That's our girl,” the incubi said in unison, the words wrapping around your heart and reminding you that you weren't alone in this fight.

The bond crackled between the three of you as the door swung open. It allowed you to remain still, just like they told you to. You made no move to cover yourself as the men observed you on the floor. Your demons also made no move to go toward them. With the symbol above the doorway, there was no way for them to escape.

Yet.

“Well, well, well. I thought we’d find a corpse when we opened the door,” Brock smirked. Instead of snapping back the way you wanted to, you made a wounded sound instead. “But I guess they fucked the fight out of you after all.”

“She was a lot of fun to play with,” Bucky said, the phantom touch of his claw moving along your back easing you. “Really does go pliant with a cock in her.”

You had to bite your lip to suppress your moan. They wrung so much pleasure out of you that you stopped counting the orgasms. You were certain their seed was still dripping out of your holes.

“She was stronger than most,” Steve added, one of his claws joining Bucky’s as you made another small sound. It was arousing as much as it was calming. As fun as it would be to beg for their cocks in front of these men, now wasn’t the time to play. And the guards weren’t an audience who deserved to watch you get off. “Feel free to bring her back.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking freaks,” Brock sneered, his hand tightening around the taser prod on his hip. “Get up, bitch. We don’t have all day.”

You slowly lifted your head and held a hand out. All you had to do was pretend just a little bit longer. “Help me,” you whispered.

His lip curled in a dark smirk as he stayed in place. “You really think I’m dumb enough to go in there? Nice fucking try. Crawl if you can't walk.”

Bucky growled in your mind and Steve’s fury simmered in your core as you began to drag yourself across the cold floor, both of your demons itching to attack when the men laughed at your “weakened” state. You let them have their fun. It would be one of the last things they ever did in this world. And it would be your laughter ringing in their ears once their souls went to Hell.

Soon.

Once you crawled far enough out of the room, the guards finally moved to grab you. They each took an arm and yanked you to your feet, uncaring of your discomfort, as your head lolled from side to side. Brock’s eyes lewedly dragged along your shivering frame before he grabbed your chin and forced you to look into his dark eyes. There was no mercy in his gaze.

And you felt none in your heart for him.

The fingers on your chin tightened painfully, but you didn’t give Brock the satisfaction of whimpering. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered before he forced you to look over your shoulder, your neck straining from the angle. Bucky and Steve’s eyes glowed a furious shade of red as they moved to the center of the room and stared you both down. It would’ve frightened you if you didn’t know that they were yours.

“I think they miss you already. Slut,” Brock taunted, saliva hitting your cheek as he roughly released you and walked down the hall. “Bring her to my office. Let’s see her fight back when she can barely stand on her own two feet.”

Steve whispered one word as the men began to drag you away. “Now.”

A surge of energy flowed through you as you harshly shoved the guard to your right away with enough force that he smacked the wall. Before the other guard could react, you grabbed his gun from his holster and aimed at his head. “Safety first,” you said, firing a bullet through his skull.

“Stupid bitch,” the first guard snapped as he straightened up. You grabbed his wrist when he reached for his gun, his skin warming under your touch as he gasped air. Just as quickly as his skin grew hot, he grew deathly cold.

“You feel that?” Bucky moaned.

“I feel it,” Steve confirmed. “She's giving us his energy.”

You didn't know how you were doing that since Bucky and Steve used sex to drain life force. Were you a conduit now thanks to your bond? Just how powerful had they made you?

“Help,” the guard gasped before you pressed the gun to his forehead and fired. You smiled when his body hit the floor. It felt like minutes, but happened in the span of seconds.

The blood along the walls also brought an unexpected moan out of you.

Blood. Red. Lust.

“That’s our girl,” Steve praised.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky added, their pride in you making you whimper.

“Really?” Brock muttered from the end of the hall as he turned to face you, his gun in hand as you shrugged. “I should’ve known you’d do something stupid. Now I need to hire two more men.”

“Actually, you’re the one who did something stupid by giving me to them,” you said, gesturing behind you. “And we’re going to kill you.”

Your captor’s scoff made you smile more. He didn’t believe you, but you couldn’t wait to prove him wrong. “Just because you have the serum doesn't mean you're not expendable,” he said, aiming the gun at your heart. “Let's see you try and kill me with a bullet in your chest, bitch.”

“You’re not going to shoot me,” you spoke in a low and hypnotic voice. It wasn’t your own. Your demons were speaking through you. “You’re going to shoot the symbol above the door until you run out of bullets and drop your weapon.”

A bead of sweat rolled down Brock’s forehead as he slowly raised his arm higher, the veins in his neck straining as he tried to resist the order. He had every reason to be afraid. The marking was the only reason Bucky and Steve hadn’t killed him yet. Once they were free, he’d have to answer for his sins.

“What the fuck?” he asked.

“Doesn't feel good to not be in control, does it?” you replied, taking great pleasure in knowing he couldn't stop himself. “Shoot.”

You stared him down as he fired the first shot, watching him grit his teeth. Your nipples hardened as he fired again and you couldn’t help but dip a hand between your legs as power continued to move through you. It shouldn’t have aroused you so much with two dead bodies nearby, but revenge was exhilarating to say the least.

“Don’t get started without us,” Bucky called out, even as you envisioned him wrapping a hand around his cock. With a whine, you grudgingly stopped touching yourself. “I wanna taste you while he begs for his life.”

“Oh, he’ll beg,” Steve smirked, his claws scratching the wall by the door. “And we won’t listen to his prayers.”

“Shit,” Brock groaned, his arm trembling as he took his last shot.

The hall went silent as you dared to look behind you. Whatever marking that kept the demons trapped in that cell was gone now, lost in a pile of rubble and dust on the ground. “It’s time to play,” you said, urging them to come out.

The gun fell from Brock’s hand as Steve took the first step. He sighed happily when nothing prevented him from walking through, but the glow of his eyes was anything but comforting as he looked at Brock. With unnatural speed, he flew toward him as he reached for his radio. The snap of his wrist breaking was one of the best sounds you’d ever heard.

“Mmm. Break his other wrist, Stevie,” Bucky suggested as he stepped out of the room and joined you at your side. You gasped when he pulled you in front of him to grind his hips against you, his cock hard and hot against your skin. “Make him scream.”

“Fuck-” Brock screamed as Steve snapped his other wrist, his hands useless as the blonde demon grinned.

Steve brought his finger to his mouth and licked a drop of blood away. “You taste bitter,” he taunted before he lifted his head. “Another guard is on the way.”

Bucky chuckled as said man entered the hall a moment later. “All alone? That's brave and stupid.”

“Oh, my God,” he said as he surveyed the scene.

It had to be quite the sight. Blood and brain matter along the walls, the man's boss on the ground in pain, you and your demons naked and unafraid. Haunting and beautiful.

“There's no God here,” Bucky smirked as he lazily rocked his hips against you. “But feel free to pray anyway.”

“Do something!” Brock ordered through his pain.

Bucky spoke a command in his natural tongue as the guard dropped his gun. Fear radiated from him as he took a knife from his belt and turned the edge toward his throat. “I don't wanna-” he shoved the blade deep in his neck with wide eyes before he could finish his statement, gurgling as he collapsed.

“Die,” you whispered, completing his sentence.

You had to bite back a moan as Bucky turned your head to meet your lips in a filthy kiss, Steve smirking as he looked back at you two. The carnage fueled their need as much as yours. As the coppery scent of the blood continued to fill your nostrils, you justified that this was the right thing to do. The men made their beds.

They could die in them.

“Come in,” a voice on Brock's radio rang out.

“Shh. Don’t make a sound,” Steve ordered, grabbing Brock’s radio as the operative went eerily silent. His eyes bulged as the demon began to speak with his voice. “Go ahead.”

“Thought I heard commotion in the hall. Sent David in to assist. Do you need more backup? Over.”

“Negative. Subject tried to escape and we subdued her. All clear. But no one is to go in the South Wing, no matter what you see or hear. And tell all S.T.R.I.K.E. members to gather in the debriefing room and await further instructions. Over.”

“But sir-”

Steve's eyes flashed as he continued to speak like Brock. “Did I fucking stutter? Get the men there and stay the fuck out of here. That's a direct order. Over.”

“Roger that.”

Bucky chuckled when Steve crushed the radio in his hand. No alarms rang out. No soldiers ran down the hall to recapture you. There were no lockdowns. Brock knew he was fucked.

And not in the way you would be.

“You know, Rumlow. You truly are a dark soul with a penchant for pain,” the brunette began, nipping your shoulder as his hands roamed your body. “We could’ve worked out some sort of deal with you. Given you true power. But you just had to lock us up.”

Something dark surfaced from the depths of your mind as you listened. You saw yourself curled up, naked and trembling, in the corner of a cell similar to the one they kept your demons in as Brock advanced on you. “Make yourself useful or you’ll die choking on my cock,” he threatened. It was a memory you kept locked away after they captured you and shot you up with the serum. One they thought they erased for good.

The anguish was almost enough to drown yourself in.

“And you just had to hurt our girl,” Steve snarled, swiping his claws across Brock’s cheek when you whined.

“No one hurts our girl,” Bucky growled over his cry as blood sprayed from the open wounds.

You no longer felt like you were drowning as they fed you strength, allowing you to see clearly again. You always wanted someone protective by your side. Someone to fight for you. Now you had two beside you.

“He can’t hurt me anymore,” you said as the blonde grabbed him by his hair and pulled him back down the hall toward you. He may have yanked a few strands out along the way. “Would you like to hear my mission report, Rumlow?”

His chest heaved a bit as he lay on the ground, trying to breath steadily through the pain. “Yes,” he lied, knowing better than to smart off again.

You arched your back when Bucky covered your breast with his hand, squeezing it gently as Steve joined you and began to play with the other. “You tossed me in their cell with the hopes they’d drain my energy, but I came out stronger. You know why? Because I gave myself to them. All of me,” you explained. A gunshot rang out before Brock screamed and grabbed his knee, the pistol you stole from the dead guard now in Steve's hand. “Their power flows through my veins and my soul belongs to them. We’re bound to each other.”

“And her energy is delicious. Just like her cunt,” Bucky smiled as he turned and shoved you into Steve’s arms. He sank to his knees and winked before he tossed your leg over his shoulder, nosing at your slit. “Hold my horns if you need to.”

“I supposed we should thank you,” Steve said, tossing the gun away. He brought a hand back to your breast, pinching your nipple as Bucky licked along your folds. You grabbed his horns and squeezed when his wicked tongue got to work. “Whatever you injected her with helped her survive what would've killed a normal human. And the more we fucked her, the more she needed us.”

“Such a greedy, pretty thing when she takes our cocks,” Bucky spoke against your pussy, the image of him fucking your throat while Steve took you from behind shimmering in your mind. You could feel them inside you, claiming you as theirs. “Didn’t even take much for her to come when we took her ass.”

Your holes clenched, desperate for them to fill you again. “You tried to turn me into a weapon,” you moaned, smiling as blood dripped from Brock’s leg. “I guess, in a way, you succeeded. Because we’re going to destroy Hydra.”

Bucky flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit as you squirmed. It wasn't enough. You needed more. “Three guards down.”

Steve smiled as he kissed along your neck, his lips lingering on your pulse. “And you’re next, Rumlow.”

“No,” Brock breathed, pushing himself up with his elbow. Fire filled your eyes when he met your gaze, his face going pale under your stare. Were your eyes glowing? “I-I can still join you. I can help.”

“I don’t think you can help us,” Steve said, nodding down to Bucky. His tongue stabbed deep with a moan as he swiped his hand along Brock’s thigh, his claws tearing through the tactical pants and skin. More blood splattered as he screamed in agony. “But you can bleed.”

“Beg. I want you to beg for me to save you,” you moaned, grinding against the brunette’s face before your expression twisted with anger. “I was innocent, you piece of shit.”

Where was your innocence now? Gone. Destroyed. But you made a choice. You allowed yourself to slip into darkness by joining forces with the incubi they captured. And you didn't regret it for a second.

“Please,” Brock said above a whisper, trying in vain to cover his wounds. How much had it taken for him to say that single word? “I-I was just following orders. I'm sorry. Save me.”

You regarded Brock with an unsympathetic gaze. You could show him compassion that he never bestowed upon you and let him see that there was still good in you. But where was the fun in that? What kindness did you possibly owe him?

You glanced back at Steve as you considered it, who merely smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You felt Bucky smile, too. They encouraged your fury, fueled it. These demons truly were glorious. Horrifying.

And they were yours.

“You're not sorry and you know the orders were bullshit. So as far as saving you?” You asked, smiling when the realization of his doom crossed his face. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Brock's hands flew to his head as he let out a cry of anguish. It filled the hall, like a song of agony as the lights flickered. The sound almost shook you to your core, but it fed into your growing darkness. You embraced it with a smile.

“Do you know who those screams in your head belong to?” Steve asked evenly as Brock continued to yell and thrash around. “That's the suffering of every person you ever hurt. All the pain you caused.”

Bucky pulled his mouth away to glare at him. “Including our girl.”

How many bodies had Brock and his men left on their path of destruction? How many lives had they ruined? It was only fair to return the favor.

“Stop it! Make it stop!” Brock cried, slamming the back of his head against the ground with enough force to crack it. “Stop!”

You cried out when Bucky shoved two fingers inside you, his claws careful not to cut you as he thrust deep. “You're close, doll. Dripping down my fingers,” he said, the sound of your wetness blending in beautifully with the wail of pain.

“He's close, too,” Steve said in your ear as he reached down to toy with your clit, playing with the sensitive bud with a grunt. You hardly paid any attention to Brock now, even as his body twitched and blood from his skull stained the floor. He was inconsequential to you as the light began to fade from his eyes. He was nothing. “It's the end for him.”

Bucky twisted his fingers with a smirk, your pussy quivering as you were ready to fall apart. “Come while he takes his last breath. Let go. Let it all go.”

Your vision swam as you did as he commanded, your entire body throbbing with pleasure. You felt the air leave Brock's lungs as bliss flooded you, Bucky's groan obscene as he brought his mout back to lick up your essence. Steve held onto you as you lost yourself, every part of you inside and out owned by their touch.

In that moment, you were invincible.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky said, his mouth and chin wet from your release as he took his fingers out and lowered your shaky limb from his shoulder. “Damn. I thought he'd last a little longer. I wanted to shove his taser rod up his ass.”

“You still can,” Steve said, kissing your shoulder. “You did so well, sweetheart. You okay?”

The praise from both of them made you preen as you looked at the surrounding carnage, slowly coming down from your high. “I'm better than okay,” you exhaled, reaching out with your foot to nudge Brock's body, relief hitting you square in the chest when he didn’t move. Your tormentor was dead. And you wouldn't shed a single tear for him. “He's gone. He's really gone.”

“He is. And we're free, thanks to you, doll,” Bucky spoke, licking his fingers clean before he stroked himself, a cool shade of blue flickering from his red eyes. “Our mate.”

I'm theirs and they're mine.

And as their mate, you had to thank them. Take care of them. Worship their hard and aching cocks the way you were made to.

“Fuck me,” you breathed.

“With pleasure,” Steve smiled, putting you on your hands and knees before he sank down behind you. He shoved his thick cock inside you with no warning, the head of it practically kissing your cervix as you screamed. “This is just the beginning. We have more lives to destroy when we’re done fucking you. For now.”

Bucky tapped his cock against your cheek affectionately before he pushed inside your eager mouth. “Alexander Pierce. Jasper Sitwell. Everyone. We'll kill them all,” he promised, snapping his hips in time with Steve as you moaned, letting them use you like a ragdoll between them. But you didn't feel used in the slightest.

You felt complete.

“You're free,” Steve grunted, bringing his palm down on your ass with a sharp slap. “We're free.”

He was right. You were finally free from the shackles Hydra tried to put on you. And you couldn't wait for the carnage the three of you would continue to spread, once you could form a coherent thought. All you wanted for now was for them to paint every hole of yours until there wasn’t a drop left.

Bucky's head fell back with an excited moan, as if he read your mind. “And we have so much time to make up for. So take our cocks and let us fill your holes before we burn this place to the ground.”

That was a mission you were more than happy to complete.

So, THAT happened and I'm not sorry. Hehe. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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buckyalpine · 8 months

Text

Ex!Bucky fluff

I’m about to break hearts rn but I’ll mend it with a mini life saver. I promise. I was in a silly goofy mood for angst but I can't just leave the ending like that.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regulate his breathing while practicing the grounding methods you had taught him, your soft voice guiding him through his panic attack.

"Tell me what you see around you"

"I-I see the curtains, the coffee table, the bookshelf- uh- the couch" You nodded, encouraging him to continue while his glassy eyes flicked around the living room. He looked at all the things you had hand picked for the space when you moved in together; the empty box he used as a shelter finally became a home after he met you.

"How about something you can smell"

"I-I can smell the laundry detergent on the blanket" It was Bucky's favorite scent because it smelled like lavender and lavender smelled like home. Home was you.

"What else my love" You cooed, "What can you touch"

"The pillow- it feels soft" Bucky's fingers dug into the sofa as he stayed frozen in place but he knew how soft the couch cushions were. After all you had picked them because you were obsessed with how plush they were.

"What is something that's real"

“You’re here with me”

"Oh, Jamie"

"You're always here" Bucky's voice cracked with emotion, the tears he had been holding in falling down his cheeks and staining his Henley.

You smiled sadly, shaking your head.

"I'm not, baby" Your voice was a gentle whisper, wishing you could reach out to cup his scruffy cheek, wiping the steady stream of tears that continued to pour down his face "But I wish I was"

Now I had planned on stopping here, insinuating reader had died. however if you don't stand for that, you may continue to read below.

Bucky couldn't take it.

6 months.

6 months he'd gone without you, hoping one day it would get easier but the day never came. He hoped the guilt of breaking your heart would balance with the fact that you'd be safer without him but not having you by his side was worse than any kind of torture he'd endured. He didn't think he was worthy of your love but now here he was, craving it more than ever.

He thought his love for you would make him selfless enough to carry on alone just to keep you out of harms way but his walls were crumbling further each day.

He needed you so bad.

He wanted to be selfish.

For his luck, you hadn't gone far. He'd made sure to keep tabs on you long after you left, anxiety eating him alive on days where you did something differently from your routine. Even if you were not together, he'd make sure you were protected.

****

You put away your groceries for the week, shuffling around the tiny apartment you'd moved back into 6 months ago, going through the motions as if your heart hadn't been split into two. No amount of convincing allowed him to believe he deserved you. You shook away that train of thought, a gentle knock at the door breaking you away from the small kitchenette.

You hesitated, debating on reaching for the knife you had hidden under the cupboard, something Bucky had taught you when he insisted on also teaching you self defense. The gentle knocking continued as you unlocked the handle without undoing the chain, gasping when you opened the door.

There he was.

The man you still cried over each night.

The man who still owned your entire heart.

The man who you adored with your entire being to the end of the earth and back. You shakily undid the chain, letting him inside, still too shocked to say anything.

"M'sorry" His voice came out a broken whisper, bottom lip already trembling seeing you wrapped up in a hoodie he thought had lost. "I'm sorry darling"

You didn't realize you'd broken down into tears until you felt him wrap you up, hugging you tightly to his chest, his own emotions overwhelming him.

"Please don't cry" Bucky wept into your hair as he clung onto you, rocking you in his strong arms, "Please baby, not over me, don't cry angel"

"I-I-al-already-c-cried-so-much" You choked and hiccupped between sobs, clinging onto Bucky harder as if he'd disappear into thin air the same way he did each night when you woke up from your dreams. The bed would feel cold and empty, the room too quiet and your heart all alone. "I'll-cr-y-if-I-w-want-t-to"

You let out a shaky huff, your brows knitted together into a pouty frown, trying hard to be angry with him, angry at the fact that he didn't allow you to love him the way he deserved, angry that he pushed you away instead of trying to workout a different solution. Bucky couldn't help but let out a wet chuckle between sniffles, giving you a soft squeeze and tilting your face up to peck your bottom lip which had been jutting out.

"I never want you to cry again love, I'll never make that mistake again" He swore, looking deeply into your eyes, cradling your head against where his heart was hammering against his chest. "Never again sweetheart, I'm so sorry I pushed you away baby, I can't do this without you, I love you so much"

You whimpered at his words, allowing him to lift you up, your legs moving on their own to wrap around his waist, burying your face into the crook of his neck. Bucky carried you all the way back and straight to the bedroom. He wanted nothing more than to hold and cuddle you, craving more with each passing minute until he was as close as he could possibly be. He stayed inside you, smiling against your sweat slicked skin, not bothering to pull out once the entire night.

"I'm finally home" He whispered against your skin, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks while you looked at him quizzically, giggling at his lips continues to dance across your lips, "It's not home without you"

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corrieguards · 2 months

Text

Warm Me Through

Captain Rex x reader

Summary: If this cold and miserable planet has taught Rex anything, it's that he's most definitely more warm blooded. The fact that you seem to have taken a liking to his new armour makes the cold slightly easier to endure though.

Word Count: 1k

C/W: absolutely none

A/N: Guess who's back from the fucking dead lmao. This one's short and sweet, just some good old tooth rotting fluff with our favourite boi🩵

my masterlist

Kamino wasn't always sunshine and rainbows - actually it never was. But Rex would still take the constant wind and rain of Tipoca City over this bitting cold any day.

White snow spread as far as the eye could see, all the trees and bushes coverd in thick sprinkling layers of it. The cold wind licking up the sides of his armour, somehow managing to seep through all his thermal layers and freezing him from the inside out.

Yes, this planet was officially his least favourite so far.

Annoyingly, you didn't seem to be suffering half as much. Despite the numbing cold you’d been in an unusually good mood today, all smiles and giggles.

And Rex couldn’t for the life of him figure out what there was to be so happy about. In fact is was starting to get on his nerves. Every time you talked, looked, or so much as mearly glanced over at him, you broke your usual ‘jedi general’ front and started giggling and grinning like a cadet.

The first couple of times he’d brushed it off, thinking it must've just been a coincidence. But after you do it one time too many, he’s starting to get suspicious.

He trudges through the snow up to you, datapad in hand and ready to brief you on the status of the recon team that had just touched base . As soon as he calls yor name, you turn to look at him, cheeky smile instantly spreading on your face.

Of course.

He tries to ignore it, finially coming to a stop in front of you and clearing his throat ready to debrief you when he glances up at you, cutting himself off and doing a doble take when you notices your pathetic attempt at concielling a smile.

He glances around quickly to make sure nobody is within earshot before he's leaning closer to you and whispering exasperatedly

“Why do you keep kriffing looking at me like that??”

You try to further straigthen the smile on your face, failing miserably when you eyes betray your amusment

“What do you mean? Looking at you like what?”

“Oh you know exacty how. Every time you look my way you keep smiling and giggling like an idiot”

The same smile breaks onto your face again, hand coming up to hide it as you speak through giggles “What? No I don't"

“You're doing it right now!! What is it? Do I have something on my helmet?” he lifts his hand to check his helmet self conciously and you shake your head through the giggles, grabbing his gloved hand in your own and tugging it down gently.

“No it’s not that, you’re fine Rex. Handsome as ever.”

He feels heat rissing to his cheeks at your words, but quickly tries to squash it down. You’re not getting away that easy, he’s going to find out what’s going on with you today if it’s the last thing he does.

“Okay fine, then what is it? What’s so funny?”

“It's just- Well ” - you lean closer, whipering through your smile- “ you look really cute in this armour”

His back straigthers in surprise. That’s… definitely not what he was expecting.

“…Cute?”

You chuckle, nodding “Yeah, really really fucking cute”

“Cute," he huffs, shaking his head in disbelief, "Only you would think a soldier of the Grand Army of the Republic is ‘cute’ "

You grin, taking a step closer and blinking up at his visor teasingly “Yknow, it’s only because I know just how much of a softie is hidden under there” you tease, poking at his chest plate.

His scoff crackles through the modulator.

“I am not soft” he grumbles and you laugh. You can imagine exactly how he’s rolling his eyes under that helmet, a hint of a smile gracing his face

“Sure… You keep telling yourself that Captain”

He take a minute to glance around again quickly, double checking that nobody is watching the two of you before he’s turning back, lifting his helmet off with a soft hiss.

Sure enough, just as you predicted he’s got that gorgeous smile you’ve come to love so much, all love and softness as he looks down at you. You gasp dramatically, putting a hand to your chest in faux shock.

“Stars! He’s even cuter underneath the helmet!”

He rolls his eyes at you, but the grin splitting his face betrays how much he secretly appreciated the comment. Before you can point it out to him, you feel a hand slip around your waist, tugging hard until you fall forward into is chest. A small shower of snow falls of your gloves as your hands shoot forward to catch yourself on his chest plate.

“Y’know I can think of something much cuter right now” he purrs, warm breath fogging up againt you face.

And suddenly just like that, with you in his arms, the air doesn't feel quite so cold, the chill of the snow not quite as unbareable.

His eyes flick down to your lips, watching as you bite the tip of one of your gloves fingers. You slide it off, bringing your now bare hand up to tenderly cup his jaw.

He grumbles slightly about how cold your hand is, but doesn't try to pull away. Instead he's smiling that same gentle smile as he tils his head just so to press a light kiss to the palm of your hand, his lips feeling as warm and soft as rays of sun on a cold winter morning.

Your heart melts at the small display of affection, smile widening impossibly further.

“What was that earlier about not being a softie?” you tease and he rolls his eyes fondly.

“Shut up”

“Oh? How about you make me Captain”

He raises a brow at you, challenging as he leans closer, enough that his lips brush yours as he whisperes his next words

“Oh don’t tempt me meshla”

---

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minkdelovely · 2 months

Text

love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

prelude

“ask for forgiveness,

never permission.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags: acid rain wound, cannibals living their best lives in cannibal town, slow burn eventual: smut, violence, toxic themes

word count: 1.7k

hello world! i currently have alastor brain rot and felt compelled to jump back into writing fan fiction. i’m a little rusty and i’m not sure how many parts there will be; i won’t deny that this is purely self-indulgent but i hope you enjoy all the same :)

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight

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Hell wasn’t what you had expected it to be. It was worse.

Thoughts of your grandmother rose to your mind, despite how desperately you tried to push them down. “Hell is the absence of God,” she would always say after one of her famous rants. A warning you perhaps would have heeded, had it been coming from a place of love instead of moral superiority.

You had seen her on the streets of Hell a few times now, always sure to avoid catching her attention. The warm pleasure that bloomed in your chest was too precious to give up, despite knowing how good it would feel to rub her fate in her face. A lot of good all those Sunday mornings had done her, haughty bitch! You wondered how often your grandmother laid awake at night, desperate to know how she had ended up here. A wicked grin spread across your lips, revealing milky-pink fangs.

It was hard not to imagine the look your father would have given you if you could tell him she was here. He would definitely have scolded you, but you knew a small part of him would be amused. If calling her a bad grandmother was putting it lightly, she was an even worse mother-in-law. Hopefully you would never get the chance to tell him; Mother was waiting for him in Heaven, after all. And things should be much easier for him now, all things considered. Leaving him alone hadn’t been part of the plan, so all you could do was tell yourself that it had been worth it. Someday you would believe it.

Grandmother was right though, loathe as you were to admit it, and the feeling of loss burned through you every morning when you awoke. Every night, you dreamed of rain; the sound of it, the smell of it, the feeling of it coming down on you in the middle of the family garden. Oh, how you missed the garden. The dark, wet dirt. Blue puffs of hydrangea against stark-white azaleas, your mother’s coveted yellow roses. The Spanish Moss hanging like phantom sails off the branches of the huge oak tree in the corner, where your father had placed a bench and made a small pond. You would sit under that tree for hours lost in a book, listening to the sounds of the garden.

The fire and brimstone you could endure. It was the way everything else was twisted here that was grueling. As if feeling your lament, a drop of acid rain hit your window, quickly morphing into a full-blown storm. A frustrated growl erupted from you and you rolled onto your stomach, burying your head under your pillow and said a silent prayer to whatever force would grant mercy on your roof. You couldn’t afford to get it fixed again. The prayer had been answered just a moment after the rain stopped, when a drop of it fell from the ceiling and onto your pale, unsuspecting calf, your mattress absorbing the scream of pain that tore through your chest.

As the acid made its way through your leg, and eventually your mattress, all you could do was sob. Eternity… This was eternity.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

If this morning had been good, the day could only now be considered grand.

There was really nothing quite like a post-rain stroll through Cannibal Town, witnessing the misfortune of partially-dissolved sinners who had been caught in the deluge being consumed on the streets by the lively, ever-hungry inhabitants. Alastor would never tire of this jovial bunch that called this part of the Pentagram home, reveling in the sound of screams, the crunching of bone, the almost-lewd and animalistic grunts of feasting.

Were Rosie not expecting him for tea, he might have allowed himself to join in on the fun. Alas, his only solace was that Rosie never served anything less than superb, being the excellent hostess that she is.

He was quite intrigued by her invitation to join her alone, which meant that this likely wasn’t anything to do with donating a small army of cannibals to aid in the fight against the Angels. Indeed, Charlie’s presence would be required once it was time to cash that favor in.

Not that he didn’t enjoy a casual visit (as casual a visit between Overlords could be), he couldn’t help but wonder. Thinking a few steps ahead was a must if one was going to thrive in Hell, and well, it was no secret that Alastor was doing a pretty fine job at that, all things considered. He began to whistle, earning a few gory smiles from cannibals who stopped mid-meal to enjoy the tune. A true honor.

Rosie opened the door for him before he even had the chance to knock, the “Closed for Rain” sign clattering against the glass as she cooed. “Alastorrr! Come in, come in, before it starts raining again.”

As if on queue, a roll of thunder tore through the clouds, drawing a cheer from the denizens of Cannibal Town in anticipation for round two.

“Rosie, my dear, always an honor and a privilege to be deemed worthy of your company,” Alastor said, bowing his head as Rosie feigned a blush, leading him to the parlor where they would be taking their tea.

The usual pleasantries were exchanged between sips of tea, coffee, and candied organs, which Alastor forced himself to consume through sheer courtesy. It was all part of the art of visiting, one he quite enjoyed, and he would never shame his mother’s memory with bad manners. They had just finished a plate of finger sandwiches when Rosie leaned in slightly, the conspiring grin on her face letting him know that it was, at last, time for business.

“You’re always so good to indulge me, Alastor. It doesn’t go unnoticed,” she said, grinning as she motioned to a maid to come grab their empty plates. “I’m sure you’ve been dying to know why I asked you over here this afternoon.”

“Oh, Rosie, it’s purely selfish! You know how hard it is to find good company in this godforsaken place. I’m more than grateful to receive your hospitality,” he said with a trademark smile and flick of the wrist, leaning back in his chair as the maid cleared the table.

She had just turned to leave with their plates when the smile on his face nearly faltered. Was that… almond he smelled? It had been so long, but he was fairly certain it was. There was an underlying trace of blood, though that was common enough around here. But almond? It was too pleasant for Hell.

Rosie’s eyes darkened to match her grin, not missing the twitch of Alastor’s mouth. She knew he’d have been able to smell it. It seemed that so far only Hellborn could pick it up, but what would be the fun in letting him know that?

“Divine, isn’t she? A walking pastry, but not much of a talker. I like to bring her around whenever a room needs some pizzazz! She would’ve been eaten alive had I not taken her in,” Rosie whispered cheekily, as the maid returned with a fresh kettle and a gelatin mold for dessert. Rosie, not missing a beat once the tray had been set down, turned to her with a smile. “Thank you dear, you can leave now. I’ll ring the bell if we need anything else.”

The maid gave a silent curtsy and left the room as instructed, her sweet scent clinging to the air. Since coming to Hell, he took pleasure in the taste of bloody iron, the bite of black coffee. But in life… Memories of marzipan and frangipane tarts swam in his mind. And hadn’t Mother used almonds in her cherry pie crust? It took Alastor all he had not to drool, unsettled by the sudden rush of saliva in his mouth. Ages had passed since he last thought of such sweet things. He cleared his throat with as much grace as he could muster. Rosie only grinned.

“Well, she’s certainly new, so I suppose it’s not surprising she doesn’t talk much. It’s quite easy to tell when a sinner is… adjusting. So morose! You’re very gracious to have taken her on.” Alastor took a sip of coffee, desperate to get that almond smell out of his nostrils.

“We both seem to be rather gracious these days, don’t you think?”

And there it was.

Rosie sat back in her chair and crossed her legs as she continued. “I was actually wondering if perhaps she might fare better in that hotel you’re running. Don’t get me wrong, she smells incredible, but fuck does she suck the air out of a room once the novelty wears off. She was scaring away clients, and you know it’s pretty bad if cannibals are uneasy around you for Christ’s sake, which is why I had her start working back here, but…”

Alastor had to resist gripping his knee, putting all his effort into maintaining a pleasant face. He had expected to be asked for a favor of sorts, but never did he imagine that Rosie wanted him to take on an employee. She’s had sinners sign contracts for little less than a new parasol, let alone a job. There was something more to this.

And beyond being an air freshener, what good was she for, really? He could deal with quiet, but to have to put up with yet another sulky face! What he had done to deserve it, he didn’t know.

But he knew there wasn’t really a choice other than to take the poor creature into his charge. Rosie was an alley he deeply cherished, and he was already in her debt for the help she had provided just weeks ago. This was no doubt the first part of paying that debt back, a sign of goodwill. Not every deal was beneficial from the start; still, Alastor wouldn’t outright accept the offer. That was part of the fun.

“Well we already have a maid,” Alastor said gently, “but after the recent renovation, we are anticipating more sinners to check in. Not that I doubt Niffty’s abilities, but I suppose she could do with some help when business picks up. How long were you thinking of lending her to our cause?”

Rosie waved her hand. “Lend? Oh, honey, if you’re willing to take her, she’s yours. I’ve got plenty of helping hands, but it does me no good to have such a wet blanket hanging around. There’s just the matter of…,” Rosie trailed off as she reached into her purse, retrieving what Alastor already knew she had been grabbing for, “…her contract.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #song fic #if i can’t have love i want power #love and power #x reader #slow burn #the radio demon #hazbin hotel slow burn

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mcflymemes · 5 months

Text

PROMPTS FROM A COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES * assorted dialogue from the novel, adjust as necessary

don't feel bad for one moment about doing what brings you joy.

be glad of your human heart.

has anyone ever taken care of you?

i heard you scream.

i figured that would get you to stop crying.

stop? don't pretend you care, human.

what is that bruise?

before you start yelling...

do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?

i'm tired and lonely, and you're the only person i can talk to without putting myself at risk.

you can leave if you're just going to insult me.

i would have been gentle with you, though.

pity those who don't feel anything at all.

when i kill, i do it slow.

killing is easier in pants.

i didn't want to consider what the punishment might have been.

we're too powerful, too bored with immortality, to be checked by anything else.

i wanted you everywhere. i was drowning in that need.

i don't particularly enjoy losing, so i took it upon myself to become good at them.

what's it doing?

why are you telling me this?

i don't think it's absurd at all.

remember the last time you ignored my warning?

fear no evil.

would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here?

i might die of surprise. you made a joke, [name].

your hair is... clean.

when the legends get written, i don't want to be remembered for standing on the sidelines.

look how you're trying not to cry out in terror.

i didn't want you to fight alone. or die alone.

you don't hold on to power by being everyone's friend.

each of us has a beast roaming beneath our skin, roaring to get out.

against slavery, against tyranny, i would gladly go to my death, no matter whose freedom i was defending.

i love you. thorns and all.

for someone with a heart of stone, yours is certainly soft these days.

we need hope, or else we cannot endure.

i threw myself into that fire, threw myself into it, into him, and let myself burn.

you look... better than before.

it's a rare day indeed when someone thanks you for bringing them to their death.

if i offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss too?

you humans are truly grateful creatures, aren't you.

well... goodbye for now.

you didn't ask.

the answer to the riddle is love.

you don't look half as bad now.

everything i love has always had a tendency to be taken from me.

i wouldn't want to die alone.

you didn't need to bargain with me.

how am i to blame?

the tunic isn't as pretty as a dress.

what have you done to me?

do you ever stop being so serious and dull?

make it go away.

i'd prefer not to wear that dress.

do you ever stop being such a prick?

i would have taken a very, very long time.

i'd want someone to hold my hand until the end, and awhile after that.

you didn't tell me this would happen.

your human joy fascinates me - the way you experience things in your life span, so wildly and deeply and all at once is... entrancing.

i'm drawn to it, even though i shouldn't be, even when i try not to be.

there was nothing that could slow me down.

i don't know why i feel so tremendously ashamed of myself for leaving them.

all those years... what i did for them... and they didn't try to stop you from taking me.

you might have gotten away with it.

i came to claim the one i love.

i hadn't thought of it as a weakness until now.

#a court of thorns and roses #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask memes #ask meme #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #mcflymemes #for kim because she requested it!!! xoxo love u best friend

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foli-vora · 3 months

Note

Helloooooo! 3000 that's flipping mental, congratulations!

Could I please request some pelvis smashing smut with Frank Castle and:

“H-How long have you been standing there?”

Thank yoooo! 💖

Sweet love! I appreciate you so damn much, thank you for your request. I'm so sorry for the insane delay, but I hope you enjoy this little bit of filth 💖

close up

frank castle x f!reader

word count: 1k-ish? i finished it in my drafts so idk warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, use of saliva as lube, masturbation (f), toy use, smidgen of voyeurism, oral (f), brief mention of double penetration

It’s stress that has you so wound up. Tension hangs in your muscles, an ache starts to build behind your temples. You just need something to take the edge off, something to throw yourself into to forget the shit day you’d had to endure. You just want to be—no thoughts, no anxiety, just calm bliss.

And you know exactly where to start.

Usually it would be him. He’s always there for you when you need him, always more than happy to please, to work those worries and stresses away until you’re nothing but a sweaty mess, all shaky limbs and panting breathlessly at the ceiling without a single coherent thought in mind...

...but today Frank wouldn’t be back for a few more hours, and so you decide to take advantage of the quiet, empty apartment. Some days you’d wait, nerves strung and foot bouncing until he’s within arms reach and ready to chase all your shit away, but not today.

Today was rough, and you need something now.

The dildo isn’t new by any means, but you’ve found very little use of it since Frank had taken up a more permanent spot in your life. It’s exactly where you left it, and soon your pants are abandoned on the floor beside your bed.

You don’t bother undressing fully, you don’t even bother getting in the damn sheets. Your too impatient, too pissed off, too tense. It takes only seconds until your legs are spread, and you're spitting onto your fingers, smoothing them along the ridges along the toy and running the blunt tip of it through your folds and along your slit.

It's slides into your pussy with a bit of resistance, having not prepared yourself or the toy properly, but you see it through, and with a few smooth strokes, you feel your body start to warm to it, you feel the toy start to glide easier the more it moves within you and your hips start to meet the rhythm of your hand.

You picture Frank and how he looks moving above you, how he feels pressing you firmly into the mattress as his strong hands keep your thighs spread. You imagine the low gravel of his voice melting in your ear, telling you how good you feel, how good you're taking it and how crazy you drive him—

He's the last thing you expect to see when your eyes flutter open from a particularly deep hit of the toy, thick arms crossed over his chest and broad body braced comfortably up against the doorframe.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” You pant softly, not in the right mind to even feel the slightest bit embarrassed at getting caught in such a way.

“Long enough to enjoy the show,” he returns, a tug of a smirk pulling at one side of his lips, “you had a rough day, sweetheart?”

“Mm, you gonna get over here and help me, or just stand there?”

“Didn’t think you needed my help,” he rumbles, his grin briefly widening, “but I can’t say no to that.”

He steps into the room quietly, shrugging his jacket off while he does so before sinking a knee into the mattress and smoothing rough hands down your thighs. You go to remove the toy but he’s quick to stop you with a firm hand pressing against yours and soon taking it over, pushing the dildo back deeper into your cunt until you’re whining softly from the pressure of it.

“Let’s leave it in, pretty girl,” he mutters hoarsely, sinking onto his front and letting his tongue run along his lower lip as he drags the thick length of silicone back and forth, watching the way your slick pussy spreads and swallows the toy.

He’s entranced. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, his eyes often unable to help but fall and study the way his own cock splits you open and takes you apart whenever he gets the opportunity, but it feels different here. It’s not his cock, but he’s the one controlling the toy—the speed, the depth…

The way your cunt parts for it, the way the silicone glistens with your creamy arousal when he brings the length out to where only the tip remains probing at your entrance… Jesus. He’s got a goddamn close up of the whole thing, and it’s got him feeling damn near pathetic as he fights to grind into the sheets to sate the borderline agonising throb of his hard cock pressing up against his jeans.

“God, look at you. You look so damn good baby, you’re takin’ it so well.”

You feel your chest heave at the praise, a slight pinch of impatience working it’s way between your brows at the slow pace he seems content using, “Frank—”

“Shh,” he soothes, pressing wet kisses along the inside of your thigh and feeling the jump of muscle under his lips, “you gonna let me have my turn, alright? Let me have my turn, and I’ll make it all better.”

His words melt against your core with a wash of hot air, and it takes everything in you to not buck your hips up in anticipation. Thankfully you don’t have to wait long. Lips soon press against your aching clit in a light kiss, before his thick tongue begins to roll firmly against the swollen nerve, languidly dragging up and down at the same pace he thrusts the toy in and out of you.

It’s fucking maddening. It’s perfect.

He takes his time working you up, alternating between working his tongue over your clit in practised, methodical strokes that have your thighs tensing and toes curling, to sucking it softly into his mouth until the walls of your pussy flutter and clench around the hard, unforgiving surface of the dildo he keeps you full with.

It’s not long until you feel that flood of heat start to spread out along your limbs from your core, the familiar churning and tightening of a climax hanging just out of reach until your thighs start to tremble beside his head. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, curling tightly around the shortened strands in an effort to ground yourself as you begin to feel the end approaching.

He groans deeply against you, spurred on by the brief flash of pain along his scalp, and the vibration of his mouth against you as it works away is enough to push you that last little needed distance until you’re off the edge completely.

You fall with a sharp cry, bucking weakly against his mouth from the assault of blissful double stimulation through your orgasm and unintentionally fucking yourself deeper onto the dildo, dragging out your orgasm and milking it for all its worth.

Stars dance along your vision as you come down from your high, and your body practically melts into the mattress beneath you when he finally lets up and breaks away from your clit with a wet smack of lips, still keeping the toy buried to its hilt in your cunt.

“I’m wonderin’…” he murmurs, his voice barely breaking through the thick haze drowning your mind, “you think you could take me as well, sweetheart?”

#foli's 3k #frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle x you #frank castle imagine #the punisher fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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soobnny · 11 months

Text

i hate that man — kim seungmin.

trope. enemies to lovers. college au. fluff. seungmin being a menace.

synopsis. the four times you think you hate seungmin, and the one time you think that might not have been true after all

word count. 5.5k words

warnings. a joke about jumping out the window, crying over a failed test exam, curse words

author’s note. inspired by that tiktok audio!! u know which one i’m talking about. credits to a dialogue i got from here (ur thoughts n feedbacks r always appreciated)

one.

Kim Seungmin is not your favorite person.

He is infuriating in the way he enjoys invading your personal space, always hovering around and blabbering his mouth nonstop every chance he gets. It doesn’t help his case (not that he wants to defend it in the first place) that he finds joy in hiding your things from you. You’d be damned if you left your notebook, even a pen, on your desk unattended. You already know the culprit is seated directly behind you, and the only thing you can do is ignore him in hopes that he returns it to you unscathed.

It’s much easier to not understand the reasons for why he annoys you. You would hate to find the truth behind his actions for the fear that he did it simply because he wanted to. This would only mean there was nothing to resolve to get him to stop.

Or worse, that he hates you. You admit with shame that you thought you’d actually get along quite well with Seungmin when you first met him. It felt like a scene straight out of a movie, playful banter and soft smiles directed to each other and the hopes of meeting each other again. It was honestly like a fairytale — until it wasn’t.

And you’ve tried before, to find out. You’ve made sufficient efforts in scouring for answers as to why he was that way with you, going as far as to asking Hwang Hyunjin (as embarrassing as that turned out to be). But, you had come out of all that empty-handed. So, you leave the unknown unknown and since then decided to just endure it. But it still has you wondering from time to time, had you burned down an orphanage in your past life to deserve this? Had you done something so sinister to be plagued by the presence of Kim Seungmin on a daily basis?

So, while you don’t necessarily hate the boy, you’d go as far as to say he was probably your least favorite person. And that notion weighs heavy considering you know resident menace Choi Beomgyu.

Still, Choi Beomgyu had nothing on Kim Seungmin so he’d have to accept being second to the last on your self-proclaimed list.

Speaking of the devil.

Seungmin parades into your classroom like he owns the place, laughing aloud side by side his friends. You simply drown out his obnoxiousness, the way you always do, though it never works considering it’s apparently his top priority to get on your nerves.

“Another Mcdonalds takeout?” He inquires, picking up the discarded paper bag on your desk to look inside. “You really should stop eating this junk so early in the morning.”

“Wow, keep saying things like that and I’ll start to believe you’re starting to care about me.” You abruptly grab the bag from his hands, moving to the back of your classroom to throw your trash properly before the professor walks in.

“Don’t be silly.” He simply laughs, taking his seat on your desk. “What do you even order?”

“Food, obviously.”

“No shit, Sherlock. What food specifically?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Can’t I ask a simple question?”

You know he won’t leave you alone if you don’t answer him. And you hate that you know that. So, with a begrudging sigh, you answer the boy. “Just nuggets and a Big Mac, now get off my desk.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He’s being sarcastic, evident in how it’s obnoxiously dripping down his tone, but you can’t find it in you to care. As long as he’s out of your hair for a few minutes.

And you almost think the Gods have answered your prayers when you don’t come across him for the rest of the day. Something about that tells you there is a silver lining for the day, even if it is only ever a little line. You would hate to be blessed with his presence atop the Chemistry test you had at 7pm.

It’s one of the few advantages to signing up for night classes. The college halls were usually dead this hour, save for a few students on their way to the library after having their fifth cup of coffee for the day. And the lack of Kim Seungmin. It’s one sacrifice, giving up hours of your night, but honestly it really isn’t as bad as people make it out to be. Especially when your professor always ends early in consideration of those who still had to commute back home — they had to catch the last train somehow.

To replace Seungmin, you had Yang Jeongin in your class, but he usually kept to himself more. He was a lot more civilized than his friend, and you’ve been hoping this would’ve at least rubbed off on Seungmin.

“You ready for the test?” Jeongin asks after you had taken your seat next to him. The first thing you discern is the lack of textbooks and notes on his desk compared to everyone else’s pathetic attempt to review last minute. It seems he’s given up like you did.

“Absolutely the fuck not. I haven’t even eaten dinner yet so this is going to be a disaster.” You laugh, dropping your bag down on the ground just as your professor walks in. Jeongin is on his phone for the rest of the free time you have left before test papers and answer sheets were distributed.

It’s a horrible hour and a half, and the difficulty of the test makes you want to fall to your knees and weep. The lack of dinner in your stomach doesn’t exactly help your case as by the last few minutes of the test, you couldn’t care less about why you use ammonium oxalate to precipitate Calcium and Magnesium. The only thing in your head is a picture of your go-to Mcdonalds order as you pass your paper.

A jumpscare greets you on your way out in the form of Kim Seungmin who is holding a Mcdonalds paper bag in his hands, the same one you had just been daydreaming about.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” The sight of the boy spikes up your blood pressure, and you have to pause in your step to catch your breath after not having dinner, suffering through a long test, and seeing Seungmin all within the span of a few hours.

Though, what he does next surprises you.

“I ordered too much for Innie so you can have this, I guess.” He mumbles, shoving the brown paper bag in your direction. It scorches your fingers as you reached to grab it before it can fall to the ground.

It was a strange sight for Seungmin to be giving you something without asking. Strange and funny for it had occurred to you that if someone were to tell you Seungmin would be your stomach’s knight in shining armor, you wouldn’t have been able to believe yourself.

“Oh, thanks? You didn’t… poison this, did you?”

“How little do you think of me?” He simply walks away before you can reply to him again.

You scrunch your nose in confusion, leaning down to look into the contents of the Mcdonalds paper bag he had just given you.

Nuggets and a Big Mac.

Was this also Jeongin’s go-to order?

When you look back up, said boy greets you with french fries stuffed in his mouth. There’s a hint of a smirk that’s barely visible from his puffed out cheeks.

“You know, you can be really stupid.” Jeongin giggles to himself, patting down your head and messing with your hair a little before waving you goodbye. “Bye (name)!”

You simply stare at their retreating figures, head tilted as you try to drink in what Jeongin had just told you.

Stupid about what? The test?

two.

What is the connotation of a very thrilled Kim Seungmin walking into the campus library as you’re struggling with your part for your joint project?

You’re almost convinced something significant had happened for him to walk in with a shit-eating grin on his face, but you know better than that now. So, you simply ignore him, turning back to your laptop as Felix and Hyunjin greet the boy. He’s late, but knowing him, he’s probably finished his part of the project. You hate to acknowledge his competence, but you have to give credit where credit is due.

You could obviously ask for help, but you’d run through the streets naked first before ever asking the boy to help you. You refuse to be subjected to his taunting more than you already were. Besides, you don’t need help from someone like Seungmin. He’d probably be so arrogant about how you needed his help.

Rubbing your eyes for a split second, you go back to furiously typing at your laptop — so aggressively that Yeji has to pull you back for a bit in fear that you’d destroy your keyboard.

The five of you work on the project diligently, finishing the monstrosity of your synthesis paper for Life Science at almost one in the morning.

When everyone moves to leave, you stay behind, telling them you still had a few deadlines to catch up on, namely a Statistics paper and a book review for your English Literary class. While it wasn’t exactly due yet, it doesn’t hurt to start them when the pump of coffee is already in your system.

“See you guys tomorrow!” You say in a hushed tone, waving at the group before moving your attention back on your laptop.

And maybe it’s the sleep deprivation getting to you but you don’t notice Seungmin still situated at the opposite end of your table.

He doesn’t say anything either. He knows you’re running 50% coffee and 50% restlessness, so he simply sits back in his chair with a book in hand.

He could use the time to annotate anyway.

When Seungmin glances back at you thirty minutes later, he can only watch in amusement when he finds you close to passing out on the wooden table of the library. Your eyelids are starting to droop, and even though it seems you’re trying your hardest to fight it, you find that your sleeved arm is far too comfortable to refuse.

He immediately puts down his book, moving across the table to wake you up. It seems the appropriate time to tell you to go home and get some rest.

When you don’t respond to the gentle shake of your shoulder, he choose the next best thing to wake you up. With a text book in hand, he drops it on the space right beside your head, creating a loud enough sound to jolt you in your sleep.

“Come on. We’re going home. You’re a lost cause, anyway.”

“Fuck you.” You grumble sleepily, sitting up and squinting at your laptop before shutting it down so you can start packing up.

“I’m flattered, really, but no thanks.”

You scoff, and he simply smirks in response as he helps you put your things back in your bag.

“Why are you still here anyway?” It’s a question you’ve been meaning to ask him since you finally noticed him an hour back, but you chose to bite down on your tongue and stay silent instead.

He shrugs. “Had to annotate this book, and I’m already at the library so I might as well.”

“Okay, whatever.” You move to grab a pen that had fallen on the ground carelessly, and in the process, you feel your head collide with Seungmin’s hand instead of the harsher corner of the table.

You see red almost immediately. You hate to admit the small gesture has butterflies erupting in your stomach.

He doesn’t say anything as he pulls his hand back, so you don’t make a big deal out of it.

“What time is it?”

“Almost 4 in the morning.”

You hum, thinking of how you were gonna get back to your dorm. It was probably still dark outside, and you weren’t exactly willing to put yourself in danger over finishing up a few schoolworks at the library.

“You can go ahead. I’ll just text Ode to see if he’s still awake.”

“Why?” He quips, pausing to stand next to you outside the doors of the building when you stop walking.

“You’re gonna make fun of me.”

“There is a chance, yes. But I might not.” Seungmin smirks, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t wanna walk alone in the dark.”

If Seungmin wants to laugh and poke fun, it seems he’s doing a good job at holding back. “Don’t disturb his sleep. I’ll walk you back instead.”

“Wow, you’re actually being nice to me for once.” You say jokingly.

“I won’t make a habit out of it. Besides, I was the last person seen with you and I don’t wanna be responsible if you go missing.”

There goes being nice.

This is how you end up walking home with Kim Seungmin. You don’t remember much about the walk home, just the proximity from where he’s walking next to you and the warmth radiating from him in contrast to the cold night. He has his hands in his pockets the whole way home, and it’s the little details like what seems to be the first genuine smile you see from him that you remember the most.

When you reach your dorm, he simply stares at you in a way you’re not used to before bowing and turning around his step to start walking back to his own dorm.

three.

A month later, Chan from your university’s basketball team decides to host a party at his house.

Being friends with half of his friends had its perks in that he enthusiastically invites you when you walk past him by your department’s hallways. And while you had every intent to decline his offer, Ryujin had already accepted for you and told him he’d be seeing you both there.

And by 8pm, you find yourselves inside his packed house, trying to navigate your way through drunken college kids. The entire first floor reeked of alcohol and sweat which wasn’t a great combination by all means.

The music is loud from Chan’s speakers, and you immediately want to go home and jump into the comforting sheets of your bed to sleep the night away. Ryujin doesn’t let you flee as she leads you to the kitchen where she tells you of where Chan hides his secret stash of snacks and ice cream. Another silver lining.

You spend an hour chatting and laughing on the kitchen counter with Ryujin, a spoonful of ice cream in your mouths as you make fun of multiple people’s dancing — not that any of you could do any better. Actually, scratch that, Ryujin could probably take them all on. You continuously ask if it was okay for you to be stealing these expensive tubs of ice cream and Ryujin just tells you she’s done it before, and that Bang Chan could most definitely afford some more if he wanted to. So, you continue to eat the ice cream without guilt.

Well, until Chan catches the pair of you, and you apologize profusely. He just laughs it off, looking at the two of you fondly before feigning a scolding. Turns out, he simply wanted you two to join him and his friends in a round of truth or dare upstairs.

Another thing to add and check off your non-existent bucket list. To be deemed sociable enough to be included in an exclusive circle of friend’s truth or dare despite only knowing around 4 people there. You think it might just be Ryujin’s doing, but you happily tag along to escape the mass of people downstairs.

When you make it upstairs, you’re surprised to see you know a lot more people than you thought you would. Yeji was there, seated beside who you think is Karina. Jeongin is with his friends, Seungmin included. Some of them you know, and some you just learned to be Jisung, Changbin, and Minho. The rest don’t really matter to you as you prop yourselves down in the circle.

And then a round of the game starts, and you start to question the things in this world that perplexed you. You used to think it were simple things — wet doorknobs, tuna fish, cramps, back pains. But after tonight, you might have to start modifying your own list. You can start with someone’s attempt to rap freestyle, the sight of a shirtless Han Jisung whom you’ve barely exchanged a word with but now have seen him half naked, the sudden knowledge of who was wearing a Spongebob themed underwear, someone (you believe was Minho?) roleplaying a scene from Zootopia. The list is endless.

Who knew a game of truth or dare could be this chaotic? Though, you probably should’ve known that especially being thrown into a group of such dynamic people.

Before you know it, the bottle lands on you and you’ve never wanted to wipe the smirk on Jeongin’s face so much than right now because you know he’s probably planning something that has to do with Kim Seungmin.

You think you can keep your anxiety at bay, that is until he starts whispering with Felix and Hyunjin and you swear that if someone opened the window right now, there’s a high chance you would make a run for it and jump and simply hope for the best.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t anything crazy! You can stop chewing on your nails.” You flush in embarrassment when the group laughs, and Ryujin runs a comforting hand down your back to make sure the attention isn’t too overwhelming for you.

“I dare you to hug Seungmin.”

“Excuse me?” You ask him to repeat his dare to you as if you hadn’t heard him. But you did. Loud and clear in fact.

The smirk on his face only grows. “I said, hug Seungmin.”

Okay, you know what, that should be simple. You sigh out in response before getting up from your seat to make your way towards where Seungmin’s situated, thankful he didn’t let you do anything as embarrassing as the others.

However, the closer you make towards where Seungmin is, wearing a top that accentuated his broad shoulders way too perfectly, and sporting a smug grin on his face, you start to think this might be the most difficult one of the night yet.

Seungmin stands in compliance to your dare, and you feel all eyes in the circle shift to the pair of you, as if anticipating it more than you.

His eyes survey you, as if to question if you were really gonna do it. And to egg you on further, he decides to open his arms wide which earns a few howls and whistles from the room. God, you hate him. You really really hate him.

And then you do it, just to get it over with, and Seungmin’s expression switches to a more taken back one. He didn’t expect you to actually push through with the dare. The longer the hug lasts, the more a ghost of a smile threatens to spill from his lips.

You have your arms wrapped around the entirety of his body, and his own resting just around your waist, and he’s crouched down a little so he can match your height better without you having to tiptoe so much.

When he presses you closer, the whole room erupts in cheers; vomiting air, nudging each other, and whistling.

Seungmin allows himself a quick glance at you, but there isn’t much to see when your face is pressed firmly against his chest. Perhaps to try and hide from the embarrassment of your friends shouting “get a room” even if you were just hugging.

He feels so warm in the air conditioned room, and it seems he didn’t have much to drink tonight when he smells more like fresh laundry and the perfume he always wears. This feels nice actually. But you would never tell him that. In fact, you have every intention of taking that observation to your grave.

When you finally notice the glances of friends and acquaintances alike around you, you pull back from the hug and immediately make your way back to your seat without another word.

You make a vow to yourself to get back at Jeongin for humiliating you like that — however, there’s a persistent voice in your head telling you that maybe you hadn’t minded that hug one bit the way you let on.

You ignore it.

four.

The sound of a shutter going off and a flash of light greets you immediately upon entering your classroom another month later.

It seems Seungmin’s found an upgraded way to annoy you (as if hiding your things wasn’t enough). With a new phone gifted to him on his birthday, he seems insistent on catching you when you’re unprepared. It makes you frustrated — as if he wasn’t enough of an irritant.

You should be used to Seungmin doing stupid things all the time, but even after months, you find that it really is a difficult task to endure. Why is he so intent on irritating you? You’re starting to seek for the answers you told yourself to stay unknown. How could you keep letting him be without knowing why he enjoys getting a rise out of you so much?

To add insult to injury, his loud voice greets you a good morning as he waves his phone around at you. You hope it falls and shatters.

Too far?

“What? Are you camera shy?” He smirks mischievously, turning to focus his camera back on you.

“At what point do you become mature?”

“Hm, not for a long time, I don’t think.” You have to remind yourself he’s provoking you for the sake of it, and you really shouldn’t be as affected as you feel right now. So, you breathe in sharply through your nose and just let him be.

When class ends, you’re quick to rant to Ryujin about Seungmin’s new discovery at getting a kick out of you.

“He won’t stop taking fucking pictures of me.” You mutter indignantly, putting all your frustration into your words.

“You know, they say you only take photos of things if you have love for the subject.”

“What are you trying to imply?”

“Just that there must be a reason why he’s so intent on having your face litter the memory of his new phone.” Ryujin smirks when your face starts to flush red at the realization of what she’s suggesting.

“Oh, shut up.” Your words don’t come out as intimidating as you want it to, and you spend the rest of the day thinking about it.

You confront Seungmin the next day, just so you can stop thinking about it. “Why are you taking so much photos of me?”

You’re already expecting that smirk on his face, and a feigned confusion. But, to your surprise, he looks genuinely surprised at your question. You’d go as far as saying he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

You’ve unknowingly caught his tongue, but he catches himself before you can catch on. With a half-assed smirk on his face, he says the best excuse that comes in his mind.

“Just so I have multiple material to use when I need to blackmail you.”

You’re appalled, and frustrated at yourself for thinking what Ryujin was hinting at might be true. You don’t even know why you were hoping in the first place. You don’t like the boy, right?

Your lips press into a straight line, and you swear your blood vessels might burst if you stare at him any longer so you storm back to your seat and ignore him for the rest of the day.

five.

There comes a point in the semester when all you’ll know is the quivering of your knees and the bloodshot red of your eyes from crying too much.

For you, it’s the result of a failed test score on a subject you studied really hard for.

You draw your knees up to press your face against them, finding solace in the quiet of the night outside. It’s early enough that you aren’t scared to walk home alone just yet.

You hear footsteps around you, but you simply drown them out in favor of focusing on washing out your frustration over yourself and that stupid test. Though, it proves a more difficult task when someone slides into the seat next to yours. When you look up, you see Seungmin staring at you. And he’s looking at you with an expression you don’t quite recognize, but equally don’t have the energy to try and deduce.

“Seungmin, I’m not really in the mood—“ He shuts you up with a handkerchief shoved in front of your face. “Why are you offering me a handkerchief?”

“Because you’re crying and seeing your stupid tears makes me upset. So wipe them away.” You stare at the handkerchief before studying his features for any hint of malice, but you see nothing but honest concern. You can’t help but feel a little touched at the uncharacteristic gesture.

“Thanks.” He hums, smiling gently down at you, and you think you’ve never seen him look this small before.

When you take the handkerchief from him, you make sure to return what looks like a trial of a smile amidst your scornful face and Seungmin is genuinely shocked you’d actually direct the closest thing to a smile at him — as if he had expected you to brush off his own and reject it.

When he shifts a little closer to where you’re seated, you surprisingly don’t feel repulsed at the distance and the way his shoulders brush against yours.

“Is it something you wanna talk about?”

The cold and quiet atmosphere of the night and the way Seungmin is looking down at you encourages you to speak, the way you never thought you would with the boy.

“Not really. Just… I’m so stupid for failing that test. And, and maybe if I studied harder than I would’ve at least gotten a more decent score.” You sigh, playing with the handkerchief as you look down in humiliation.

Seungmin scrunches his face. “It’s not your fault. We win some, we lose some. What matters is that we keep going despite the losses.”

He doesn’t snap back at you with a snarky remark like he usually would. Instead, he gives genuinely useful advice, and you think your ears could be deceiving you if he wasn’t seated directly next to you.

“Wow, I didn’t think you had it in you to say something like that.” You laugh a little, and you miss the way the tip of his ears heat in red at being able to solicit a laugh from you.

“You wound me.”

You don’t know what takes over you, but you find yourself leaning your head against his shoulder. For now, you’ll blame it on the exhaustion from crying so much earlier.

Your head against his body feels nice and comforting and warm against the biting air from the night, but you can feel him physically tense up at the contact and you almost pull your head back immediately if he hadn’t rested his head against yours.

The compromising position has Kim Seungmin in contemplation over something that’s been such a great concern in his life for the past few months, almost a year even. It had started when he met you, the first time he ever saw you and heard your voice, and the day he decided he’d spend every second thereafter trying to get your attention.

He mirrors the way you interact with your friends, and yet somewhere along the line, it had been misinterpreted into something it wasn’t and he had to live in pretense of irritating you when all he’s ever wanted was your attention. But, he thought, if this was the only way then he’d have to keep the facade up.

Besides, a little attention (even if it was with hatred) is better than none.

When Seungmin grows uncharacteristically quiet, you start to wonder what he could be thinking about and why there’s a small scrunch in his face as if he was deep in thought.

You never used to wonder what he could be thinking about. What’s changed?

“Seungmin?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you enjoy irritating me so much? Do you hate me?”

Seungmin peels his head from yours, staring down at you with a completely horrified look on his face.

“Hate you?” He feels nauseous that you could even think that, and he’s shaking his head quickly, compromising feelings he’s kept hidden for quite a while now. He’s so confounded by your statement that he gets up from his seat on the bench for a second to stare at you before calming down and returning back to his spot. “I don’t hate you. I— I could never hate you.”

You look at him, and you’re surprised to see that he’s genuinely astonished and a little upset at what you had just tried to imply.

“Then why?” You swallow down a lump in your throat, asking him in the smallest voice he’s ever heard from you. This was the perfect opportunity to ask him why, being handed to you straight on your lap, so you bite the bullet and ask.

“I actually thought we’d get along quite well when we met. And then you just started to… I don’t know.” His eyes are soft as he listens to you, lips slightly parted as if trying to think of the perfect explanation to clear your misinterpretations.

When you finish, Seungmin closes his eyes to recollect his thoughts. For a second, you think he might be coming up with an excuse to save himself but the earnest way in which he looks at you the moment he opens his eyes again quiets the voice in your head.

“I just wanted your attention.” His face visibly cringes at the sudden confession. Seungmin feels like he’s floating, looking down at his physical body that’s trying to explain himself without embarrassing himself further.

“You… what?” You blink.

He sighs out, wiping the sweat that’s gathered from his palms down his pants before tilting his head back as if trying to ask strengths from the Gods so he can admit to you whatever he’s been hiding. And then, he looks back at you and he finally confesses what he’s been keeping from you for months.

“I thought that maybe if I acted the way you did with your friends then there’d be a higher chance we’d get along. But then you misinterpreted it as hatred, and I’ve had to pretend I enjoy irritating you when all I really want to do is hold your hand.”

He squeezes his eyes shut as if afraid of your response, but all you can do is stare at him with your mouth parted.

This definitely wasn’t the response you were expecting.

“But… but it really felt like you hated me. Like— when you’d make fun of me for my food choices or that time in the library when you stayed behind to taunt me for being a lost cause.”

“You have me all wrong, (Name). When I asked you what you liked, it was an excuse so I could get it for you. Do you really think I’d accidentally buy too much dinner for Jeongin, and have the excess be exactly your favorites? And… and that night at the library. I stayed behind because I know you’re afraid to walk home late. So you would be less afraid if I walked you home.”

You meet his eyes, breath catching in your throat when you gauge the level of genuineness in his eyes.

“You— You hugged me as a dare in Chan’s party and sometimes that’s all I think about.” Seungmin falls silent after that, simply letting out a breath he feels he’s been holding for too long.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything right now. I know it’s a lot to take in.” He fiddles with the ends of the sweater he’s wearing, making sure to avoid eye contact.

“Seungmin.” The simple sound of his name from your lips has him looking at you despite trying his best not to. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay. It must be a lot to take in.”

“I thought you hated me for months and now, you’re telling me the exact opposite.” Your voice gradually quiets down, and Seungmin finds comfort when you scoot in your seat closer. “I really don’t know what to say.”

“Would it hurt to start over?” You’re greeted with his softening stare, and he bites his lips in anticipation for your response.

“I think… I think I’d like that.”

Seungmin immediately smiles, the kind of smile that’s difficult to hide even in the inky night, even if he tried.

You find yourself mirroring his own smile.

The thought of finding out the truth behind Seungmin’s actions has always scared you, but now you know you should’ve never been afraid.

Somehow, things are already starting to change, with an outstretched hand in your direction. You find yourself taking it in yours with ease.

“Hi, I’m Seungmin. It’s nice to meet you.”

#k-labels #seungmin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #kim seungmin x reader #stray kids oneshot #stray kids fic #stray kids seungmin #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x reader fic #skz fanfic #skz seungmin #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #college au #kim seungmin #seungmin fanfic #seungmin fic

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noroi1000 · 4 months

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F**k your fav 14 - Threesome

F**k your fav | ←Previous • Next(Epilogue)→

Threesome?😏🍆🍑🍆😏

Summary: It's finally that time, right? Satoru had a plan to finally give you a moment with Suguru. That's why it's finally going to happen...

Warnings: Threesome sex (double penetration)

You were at home with Satoru, and your kisses were getting more and more heated. His touch on your skin felt so hot. You wanted to take a bath together. Together, your bodies would be pressed against each other. You felt like doing it, especially after his hands reached between your legs. You thought he forgot this day was coming. You hoped nothing bad would happen today. Because you couldn't forget that today was supposed to be the day you would have a threesome with Suguru. He was in your house. You knew he was somewhere. Basically, Satoru was supposed to tell him when you were ready to start. He didn't have much to do that day, so he took his time. And unlike you, he was quite calm.

On the way you undressed. When you touched the bathroom door, you were already wet from his fingers prodding your entrance through the fabric. His cock was already half-hard as you felt his hips thrust against you. But when you entered the bathroom, you saw something you didn't expect. Suguru was taking a bath. And you were afraid that if he saw you. Or rather, you were afraid that he would see you. You were only wearing pants and had your hands on the back of Satoru's neck, looking at the steamy shower window.

You wanted to step back so as not to disturb him. But Gojo had other plans. Deliberately doing everything he could to make sounds, he pressed against your body.

Everything was just as he planned. He knew from the beginning that Suguru was taking a shower. And that meant you could start there. After all, no one will bother you anyway. Threesome in the shower? Maybe if you wanted?

But he preferred to take care of everything when you were all almost naked, and invite Suguru to join you. So the moment he took a shower was perfect.

"Satoru –." you murmured softly to tell him to change your position, but he started kissing you, and suddenly he slapped your ass with his open hand, causing a hard slapping sound.

You moaned into his mouth, pushing a little to get out of the bathroom.

"Let's go– mm!"

"Do you really think I don't know that you're doing this on purpose?" He said this as he turned off the water, leaving the cabin. He tied a towel around his hips.

"Suguru." You said it with a small blush.

You didn't do it on purpose! It's Satoru! It is his fault! You didn't want to disturb him while he was taking a bath!

"Now that you've finished showering... Come to the bedroom right after you dry off!" Satoru suddenly called, throwing you over his shoulder and running to the bed, laying you there with a devilish smile.

Ripping off your pants, he started playing with your entire body.

"Mochi, do you think you can take both of us?" the white-haired man asked you, kissing your breasts as he rubbed your clit.

With small grunts, you considered answering him. Because you have no idea. And you enjoy watching Satoru moan as he lies beneath Suguru, taking his length while the pink cock dangles between his legs or rests on his stomach. Satoru loves watching Suguru's cock disappear into your tight pussy. And he also loves to fuck you. Watching you moan as he stood next to you was beautiful.

It wasn't a bad thing that he recorded a short video when you weren't looking.

This was another difference between Gojo and Geto. Gojo was disturbing your privacy. He was everywhere, invading your space.

"I don't know what exactly... Ah..." you moaned as he inserted his fingers into you.

"Answer me, darling. Because I know you can do it." he asked, quickly pushing his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace.

This caused your thighs to move against his hand to gain more friction. Basically, the faster you come, the wetter you will be. This means that it will be easier for you to endure hard fucking. Even though you both could fuck right now and wait for him to come, Satoru prefers to prepare you for what's coming. Oh, what's going to happen here is going to be the wildest.

"Everything that happens here will be for us." He laughed, lifting you by your legs and sitting you on his thighs. He lifted your hips to insert his cock into you.

Satoru's tip brushed against your entrance, and he pushed your body down too quickly, sighing loudly into your boyfriend's shoulder. Satoru sighed, feeling your walls around him.

You glanced sideways at Suguru who had just entered the room at that moment, clearly watching Satoru's balls press against your body as you sat on him.

"We're already waiting for you to join." Satoru purred, moving your hips up and down.

"So good. I didn't know you guys would be like little whores." He laughed.

You saw him close the door sharply and turn the lock. Does this mean that he prevents you from escaping? What the fuck is going on here?! What is this??! What's going on here?! You feel more like you're about to get raped by a beast than like you're about to have a threesome! But it basically means the same thing with these two...

Satoru and Suguru... This kind of thing is normal for them...

As you ground your hips, moving your body on the cock, you were suddenly grabbed by your arms.

"You really did this on purpose to start this game, right?" he whispered into your ear, lightly biting your earlobe.

"Yup."

"I... I don't!” you whined, holding Suguru's hand in yours.

"So this was Satoru's plan?" he chuckled. Then he whispered in your ear. "But I know you like this turn of events too. You're just afraid to admit it. You want to be fucked, right?"

Yes, you want. Especially when he said it in such a voice... And now you're sure that Satoru participated in this to tell him exactly what you like. Even before, you couldn't imagine that Suguru's voice could excite you so much!

"Suguru." Gojo exclaimed, handing him something, one hand on your hip, pushing you down his cock. "Until you are completely hard, you have her ass. Maybe she'll be more used to it?"

"Huh?!" You moaned, looking at his blue eyes full of lust and amusement.

The only double penetration you had was Satoru's cock and a dildo! But it wasn't the other guy! Moreover, you have to take two penises of this size?! How?!!

But you knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to this threesome.

You were supposed to say whether you agreed or not right after you had sex with Suguru. You were so distracted and soft after two orgasms that when they asked you about it, you didn't understand what was happening around you.

And you agreed. Because it was so good.

Your mind swirled around the memory of a beautiful feeling. This sex was very pleasant. You loved this feeling. And your perverted part of your mind then spoke for you. And knowing that a threesome could be a combination of two very pleasant experiences, you agreed.

And now you felt lubricated fingers opening your ass to then press into you.

It wasn't the first time you had a cock in your pussy and fingers in your ass. To be honest, Satoru likes to try everything. The important thing is that you agree. Or he has a feeling that you will agree to it. Just like this moment.

While you were cuddled up to Satoru, you lay on his chest, waiting for what was about to happen. And when you lay there completely, with your ass sticking out, you knew it was about to happen.

You'll soon be stuffed to the brim with cocks...

Suguru and Satoru didn't mean to hurt you. After all, you were close to them. They didn't mean to hurt you. But just like Satoru, who knows the limits of your body, Suguru didn't know that. That's why he was even more gentle when he put the condom on his semi-hard penis. And he began to press into you, clearly listening to how your body reacted. He listened to your sounds and also tried to feel all the tremors of your body. Not to hurt you. It was a really good move to enter you before he was at his maximum size. It's certainly easier for yourself now. Besides, when he has an erection completely, he will already be inside you, and it will be easier for you to get used to him.

"You okay?"

"Mhm..." you muttered, your face pressed into Satoru's shoulder.

You were wet. And you also didn't fight the feeling of them being inside you. You let them move inside you. You let them feel pleasure inside you, knowing that they would make you feel good.

Your buttocks were pressed against Suguru's hips as he began to move, and you moaned as he became bigger.

You did so well. You were so incredibly tight. Now much more than before. The fact that you are filled on both sides shows what you experience perfectly. You're so tight, but you're taking it so well. The movements of two lengths inside you make them feel good too. They don't even have to move hard to feel like they're in a phase of ecstasy.

However, they liked to play a little rougher.

Satoru started thrusting into you from below, hitting your wet pussy harder. Not to be left behind, Suguru began to move into you faster.

The way it looked from a different perspective was probably strange. Maybe even sexy.

You, bent over, lying on the chest of the only man. Your hips are positioned so that he can easily push into you. You lay there while two cocks spread your poor holes.

"T-oru...."

"Don't you sound so sweet? You make beautiful sounds when you take two cocks!"

And you expected that they did it on purpose.

They giggled to let you know they liked it.

While your face is completely fucked and you moan with tears in your eyes at the intensity.

You wanted to cum. The strange feeling was mostly pleasant. You were held by two sexy men who were taking care of the lower half of your body. They were beautiful, and their bodies felt so good. That's why you wanted to cum. You wanted to put your body on the line of orgasm so that they could give it to you in a moment.

But Suguru suddenly backed away, lightly slapping your ass.

You let out a disappointed moan, looking at him with sad eyes. Horny, sad puppy?

And then you were even more disappointed when Satoru did the same, backing away. Taking you off his cock.

"Don't worry, baby." He said it with a smile. You stopped worrying about not having an orgasm a bit when he said that. But still...

Suguru removed you from your boyfriend, kissing your neck a little before placing you on the warm spot where Satoru lay. Your back touched the soft bed, and your legs were spread out. And they both stared at your dripping juices.

Satoru handed Suguru the bottle of lube again while he removed the condom.

They must have given each other some silent signal about changing positions. Because you didn't hear them say anything. Or your mind is only focused on pleasure. Both options were possible.

The fact that they switched places like that meant only one thing...

Your pussy was filled with Satoru's cock once again. And you enjoyed being filled. And Satoru was lying on top of you, kissing you passionately. While Suguru poured lube down his length and onto Satoru.

Even though this time they weren't playing rock, paper, scissors to find out who was on top, they figured it out. Satoru is too jealous to let Suguru be the only one who has a dick or hands on his girlfriend. That's why he prefers to fuck you while Suguru towers over him.

It was good enough for him to agree to it.

So you lay on your back with your legs spread wide to the sides as the dark-haired man held one of your knees. Above you was Gojo, who was panting against your neck, pushing lightly into your body. Shaking. And behind him was Suguru kneeling, holding one hand on his hip, and pushing into him, giving him double sensations.

You can come just by fucking your pussy. Because of the pressure your warm walls provide, but you can also cum from another cock pounding into you from behind, sliding over the sweet spot that feels so good. Both could have made him come. And combined together, they were giving him too much pleasure. He loved this feeling. And that's probably what he really meant when he thought about threesomes. It felt so good, but overwhelming.

To have such an intimate moment with the two most important people to him? That's it.

Even though the next few minutes passed, he groaned loudly, biting your shoulder and filling you to the brim with his seed. As Suguru continued to hit his hips, causing his length to move, you came, your walls sucking in the white-haired man's softening, sensitive length..

Grunting, Suguru came, thrusting a few last times before pulling out of the white-haired man, watching his cum leak out slightly. It was the same with Satoru. He pulled out of you to see a large amount of his cum flowing from your quivering hole.

"Round two?" He asked, patting your thigh.

Maybe let him decide first what his favorite type of sex is?

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