#he’s a trap queen lover | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tteokdoroki · 8 months

Text

ೀ⋆OCT 1ST PRINCESS DIARIES ━━ satoru gojo + breeding !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. satoru gojo + breeding. thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown… (5.2K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, royalty!au, enemies to lovers (?), forbidden romance, infidelity and cheating, spit kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, breast play, agoraphilia, baby trapping, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected sex, princess + fem!reader, lord!satoru gojo.

୨୧ — director’s note. woo happy spooky season my loves. welcome back to another tteokdoroki kinktober! im excited for you to see whats in store this year, hope you enjoy this fic to start off mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

you have thirty days to get married.

being from a small town, somewhere that’s not even on the map — you never expected your family name to carry much meaning aside from the one you carved out for yourself. let alone expect your name to come from royalty.

if you thought discovering how to be a teenager at sixteen was hard, then try discovering how to be a princess at sixteen on for size. everything you’ve ever done since finding out you were royalty has been for your family. you’ve kept your head down, out of the spotlight aside for the occasional appearance and charitable events. you’ve studied hard, double-majoring in international relations alongside political science and diplomacy.

you’ve prepared yourself thoroughly enough to feel ready to take the mantle of queen — especially with your grandmother planning to step down. all of your accomplishments have been leading up to this very moment — it’s so close that you can practically feel the weight of the crown on your head.

except there’s one itty, bitty, little problem.

you still have to get married in thirty days. otherwise, your family title will be poached from right beneath your nose.

satoru gojo (aka public enemy number one) is the nephew of a member of parliament who just so conveniently knows genovian law better than your grandmother does. since satoru came of age before you did, and he’s lived in genovia for longer than you have, and has some random distant relative in connection to the first king — the men of parliament have decided that he too is in line for the throne.

especially if you, the princess, do not marry before your coronation.

how ridiculous is that?

and not only is this satoru gojo an evil, conniving, crown-stealing bastard. but he’s charming, a silver tongue wrapped around each and every one of his words. charming, like a prince (blegh) he’s also stupidly attractive. with deep sapphire blue eyes that are gorgeous enough to make the crown jewellers weak in the knees and a smile so sweet it feels like a sugar rush whenever he looks at you. there’s something so unique about the frostiness to his soft white hair, matching his unfairly long lashes — the ones you know girls back home would kill for.

it angers you to know that you’d been dancing with your rival at your welcome ball, pains you to know that you’ll never forget his slender fingers splayed out against the small of your back to guide your every movement. if you had been back in college (and had a few litres of hard liquor in your system), perhaps gojo would have been the type of guy you’d have snuck into the dorms for a night of fun and an NDA in the morning — your secret signed away from the paparazzi’s keen eyes.

alas, these are very different circumstances and there’s a lot riding on you being sensible about the situation. yet, satoru proves himself to be a problem every chance that he gets — cornering you in closets with his breath hot against your ear, trapping you against the walls while the ghost of his touch feels like heaven against your skin… on the staircase too, insistent on reminding you of the passionate dance you once shared.

all while you’re set to marry the duke of another country so you can keep your fucking crown (pardon the language, your highness).

suguru geto would be the perfect king consort if you managed not to mess this up. he is warm, where satoru is a flip between disastrously hot and frustratingly cold. he balances you out, a mellowness to your clumsiness whilst understanding your need for a rushed proposal and wedding. raised a gentleman, suguru is mindful of you in every action he takes. he doesn’t stare too long but smiles when you think he’s not looking and he’s a wonder with your grandmother — the parents, too. his family gem (a serpentine, making you feel much like a snake) sits heavy on your ring finger, dazzling under camera flashes at your engagement dinner…. and he recognises duty and honour above anything else too.

if satoru is your enemy, then guilt is your friend. no matter what either of the men in your life do, you find yourself comparing their every move. when you’re with suguru your mind is away chasing the fairies, imagining the touch of another man who sets your heart alight in a cool blaze — like gasoline trickling through your veins waiting for its candle match. when you’re with satoru, all you can think about is how wrong this is. how geto doesn’t deserve this. but you’re an addict without a cure, and your drug is satoru gojo and you don’t see yourself ever quitting him.

you're in desperate need of a wake up call and a nicotine patch, the cocky yet lecherous air about him almost acting like a smog in your healthy and capable lungs. sometimes through the fog, you wonder if satoru knows how much he weighs heavy on your mind— though if he did, you’d never hear the end of it.

the current queen tells you not to worry about the white haired man that’s slowly freezing over the four chambers of your heart. you tell yourself that suguru geto is the only man that you need, one that could help you rule and create a beautiful and better kingdom for many years to come. geto tells you that he loves you, that he can’t wait to marry you in two or three weeks time and you respond with equal (yet, faux) excitement.

perhaps that’s why you find yourself sneaking away from this respectful, loving man to be with the one trying to ruin your life?

why are you following satoru gojo deep into the royal gardens, where the rose bushes are the only witness to your sick and twisted sins?

your back hits the jagged pattern of tree bark before your brain can catch up — causing a little wet whimper to bubble up on your pinky-peach tainted lips. the flutter of pain just beneath your skin only lasts for a second before it’s replaced by the sensation of satoru’s fingers traversing up the dips and curves of your body. he soothes you where it hurts the most, rough fingertips leaving bruising marks made with affection along your thighs and small of your back while he swallows your sweet gasps — licking into the wet cavern of your mouth to taste you.

“you’re not even…” his words spill into you, adding fuel to the spark of lust beginning to form a pit in your stomach. “you’re not even attracted to him,” he spews, surging forward like a storm knocking on your door to press his greedy spit slicked lips to yours. his tongue, syrupy and wet, intertwined with your own, filling you up and giving you something to suck on.

before you can even think of kissing your rival back, he retreats and takes his swollen lips with him — latching onto your neck and weaponizing his teeth against it. you gasp, your angel’s song tipping out into the rose garden while your fingers tangle in silver-moon locks and let him work against you, claiming you just below the neckline of your dress where no one will be able to see.

except for maybe your fiancé and only god knows how you’ll be able to explain the marks to him tonight. ‘oh you know me, suguru. i’m way too clumsy for my own good.’ you’ll say, all while thinking about how the man after your crown blew your back out at your engagement party.

you know why satoru’s acting such a fool — taking risks that he wouldn’t normally. the dress you’re wearing, the colour of his eyes, drives him fucking insane. you can’t say that you didn’t ask for this, like it wasn’t on purpose.

“can’t fucking stand you,” gojo groans against your skin, nose pressed to your collarbone as he inhales the candied notes of your perfume. “been giving me those angel eyes all day. knowing that i can’t take my fucking eyes off of you when you wear that colour, princess.”

he’s insufferable, but here you find yourself at the mercy of his touch — offering up your body to satoru gojo like a sacrificial lamb as your back arches away from the tree and presses your chest into his eager strawberry tongue. it leaves a slimy track over your neck and dips between the cleavage of your dress while gojo makes his descent down to hell — tasting the shimmering crystals of salt on your skin.

satoru gojo belongs on his knees.

kneeling before you with the royal blue tule of your dress between his shaking hands. you can tell he’s trying not to rip it off of you. born to worship you. mirth weighs down his lashes and desire dances between the navy blue flecks in his sapphire eyes — he needs you so bad it might kill him. from this position he can practically smell how turned on you are, he’d recognise the mouth-watering aroma of your drooling cunt anywhere, slick gathering in the crotch of your barely there panties.

there’s a depraved, royal treasure hidden between the string of fabric that runs between your juicy pussy lips — swollen and waiting to be devoured by your enemy. not that you’d ever admit that to him. “i think you should be referring to me as your queen.” you manage between ragged breaths, satoru eyeing the way your chest heaves from beneath the bust of your dress.

instead of responding, his head unceremoniously dips beneath your skirts and he drags a thigh over the width of his broad shoulders. “watch your mouth,” the lord purrs salaciously as he licks up your inner thigh, the vibrations shooting straight to your swollen clit. “let’s remind you of who’s really in charge.” the both of you feel it, the aching throb of your pussy against gojo’s lips as he wedges his face right between your thighs. you can’t help but grind against him in wanton, desperate to be filled up with fingers, tongue whatever your sworn enemy has to offer up to the crown.

but your warmth and wetness does nothing to coax satoru into tongue fucking his way past your clenching, creaming entrance. rather, he draws his head back just a touch and rubs at your cunt like he loves you, dips his fingers just into your quivering hole and then — smack !

juices run down satoru’s arms as if he’s taken a bite into the fruit that tempted eve while he laughs in awe of just how fucking sloppy you are between your thighs. the spank to your puffy folds makes you jolt in surprise, causing you to scratch your back against the jagged tree bark.

“gojo!” you squeak in warning as your thighs close around his veiny hand.

he sticks his tongue into his cheek, smirking in amusement before prying your shaky legs apart. “that’s not quite right, try again for me, princess...” gojo repeats the process, running between your slick folds and spanking you against them when you fail to respond. “you know my name, baby. c’mon it’s easy, i’ll even say it with you. d…d…”

you refuse to stoop so low, to let demeaning words escape from underneath your tongue but not having satoru’s mouth on you is like torture — just his breath against your cunt is akin to dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse. you know what that pleasure is like, you crave it and you’re not above begging no matter how royal you may be.

“f-fuck, daddy!” you whinge defiantly, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head fall back against the tree. satoru wastes no more time then, slotting his hot mouth against the entire length of your silken slit. the first thing he does is moan, the vibrations shooting twinges of ecstasy from your clit through the rest of your body and even reaching your head — making the world around you spin.

the tip of his tongue teases its way past your entrance, squirming around to brush up against pleasure spots your little fingers can’t even reach. “that’s right princess, knew you could do it. you’re not just some stuck up little girl.” the white haired lord praises, drawing back from your quivering hole — connected to you by a string of your glistening slick.

“shut up, just… put your mouth to good use.” you grunt, your hips canterint down onto gojo’s face to keep him quiet. your fingers take root in his silvery moon locks, dragging the man and his pink tongue onto your sex once more. gojo takes the hint, making your cute little clit his next victim as he rolls it between perfect rows of pearly whites and sends your eyes into the dark depths of your skull.

the sinful and salacious sensation provides a welcomed distraction from your responsibilities as the crown princess. if your grandmother could see you now, you know that all she’d feel is disappointment— especially if she knew her granddaughter was fucking the biggest threat to the crown. and suguru, your poor fiancé — he was probably stuck mingling with guests he didn’t even know, looking for your eyes in the crowd like he always did.

shame should be burning through your veins, not the white hot trickle of desire that you’re filled with as satoru slurps your juices from between your fat pussy lips. the needy groans he lets out against you inch down your spine, drown you in stormy waves of lust and you find yourself addicted to the bob of gojo’s head from underneath your tule skirts. you’re just so wet, pouring the royal family’s riches, liquid gold straight into the man’s greedy mouth as he drinks you in.

your nectar glazes his cheeks and chin in a devilish shine, brighter than the crown set to sit atop your head — his mouth barely parts from your ravaged and swollen romping as if he’s married to eating you out, tongue licking you up and down before your juices even have a chance to drip to the ground. you can only imagine what would happen if the press found out, your life would be over and so would satoru’s. but you don’t care, because every second that gojo spends between your thighs dragging you to orgasm is worth it. every single time.

he grips at your ass, pulling you back onto his tongue as it flickers in and out of you. the whole ordeal is disgusting and delightful and you never want it to end. pleasure mounts high within you, evident in the shakiness of your gripes and grouses, lust laden in its tune.

“s-satoru…satoru. i’m gonna… g’na fuckin’ cum!” a high pitch squeal tears in your throat like music to gojo’s ears — now working relentlessly to get you off just like you need. he doesn’t care if he’s suffocating, at least he’ll die a happy man between the thighs of a princess.

he chuckles against your sex. “such a dirty mouth for such a proper lady.” the lord says as if he’s a scolding you.

but you can barely hear him, for static rings in your ears as your body loses the war to your orgasm. your release bubbles up on his tongue like the fresh pop of champagne, while your brain fizzles and clears itself of all logical thought. guilt is replaced by bouts of lust, making you realise that this cycle of avoiding and fucking gojo will never end. you’re too addicted to him and he’s too obsessed with you, as long as things remain that way — sex with him will always be on the agenda.

you can’t promise yourself, your grandmother or suguru that this will be the last time.

dopamine dances across gojo’s brain as he drinks in the tangy-honey flavour of your release, letting it splatter against his puffy lips as they encircle your clit to prolong your orgasm. you gush as if you’re a rushing erotic river, spilling into satoru’s earnest mouth while he licks you clean with wanton.

“look at that… oh look at you. cumming for me already.”

“f-fuck you.”

“fuck me?” he smirks, making your gut lurch with wanton. “fuck you. i’m the one that’s working on it, princess.” satoru slowly rises to his feet, licking a nasty spit-slicked trail from your hole to the cleavage peeking out from underneath your dress. he doesn’t even stand to his full height, his large frame towering over you as he yanks down the front of your dress to lick and suck and play with your breasts until you can’t tell what’s up or down anymore.

his perfect teeth graze a pert nipple which makes you gasp and cry, loosely looping your arms around satoru’s neck while his ravaging mouth works your sensitive breasts, even going as far to swipe his tongue over the spot where each one meets your ribcage. he doesn’t leave any marks, you’re not his to keep. large and rough hands replace the warmth of his mouth on you to toy with your mounds of flesh — pinching and pulling as satoru kisses you senseless. you groan at the taste of your slick on his tongue and salt of your skin as well, tugging him closer so that there’s no space between your heated bodies.

“don’t cry,” satoru comments softly against your swollen, cherry-bitten lips — cupping your face between his fingers. blinking slowly, you allow your frenzied brain the chance to catch up to reality and you don’t realise the tears that wet your cheeks until he points them out. why are you even crying? “you’re too pretty for that.” his compliments do nothing to clear the lustful, confused fog settling over your mind like a dark cloud so you follow your body’s instincts and reach for the metal clasp on his belt.

nimble fingers make their way down the front of gojo’s dress pants and he hisses at the quick pumps of his perfectly hard cock before you’re dragging up your skirts and guiding him towards your entrance. “baby, wait—“

you push his pants down enough to let his erection spring free, pulsing with need and standing at full mast against the cotton blouse covering his tummy. “i need you.” you sniff, dropping your panties to your ankles. “please.”

the thing about sex with satoru is that it never feels like just sex. he tenderly hikes the meat of your thigh over his slender hips, lets his dribbly, sticky cockhead twitch forward and ease past the salaciously slick barriers of your empty hole, and presses your bodies so close together that you think you might forget how to breathe. satoru makes love to you each and every time — and it’s terrible.

like eating too much sugar or indulging in a bad smoking habit. you’re not supposed to be in love with him and the way he fucks up into you, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis even with all of the fabric in the way. “don’t cry for him, f-fuck,” the both of you look down, your pupils dilating at the sight of your pussy swallowing his lengthy shaft whole — catching on the ridges of each blue vein spiralling around him. “cry for me, princess. i’m the one that’s ruining you.”

with his forehead pressed to yours, silver hair matted down by the line of perspiration against it — satoru braces a hand against the tree above your head and sets stream to his passionate thrusts, fluid like water under a bridge. it’s not fair, how wrong this is and how good it feels to have gojo lick over the parts of you he would bite down on if you were his. your pulse point, your neck, the spot just under your ear that’s way too sensitive for your own good. it should be suguru fucking you like this, your fiancé.

yet, there’s no room for self-loathing and despair between the rough tree and satoru gojo above you. nothing aside for the thick curtain of lust that protects you from prying eyes in the rose garden, floral scents twisting with the raw, aphrodisiac-like smell of sex and sweat while he pounds away at your swollen pussy, grinding his cock wetly against the sweet spots dotted along your ribbed walls.

“i should put a baby in you,” he says suddenly, just barely audible over the wet pap, pap, pap of your sexes working together. embarrassment burns bright under the surface of your cheeks because you’re that wet and it’s that loud, the remainders of your previous orgasm making it easier for satoru’s cock to glide in and out of you. “leave you with a little gift. a present — reminder of our time together, yeah?” he knows that he’s not making any sense, leaving his confession behind sex and sultry words. he would never admit to how much he loves you, he’s already ruined you enough. he’s already taken more than enough from you too. “i’ll get to the crown either fuckin’ way.”

satoru talks with his dick and you fucking like it, squeezing the damn daylights out of him. he can barely pull back with you locked down on like that, his seedy tip snug between your ruined folds — clinging into him by viscous ropes of your last orgasm and freshly formed globs of his white hot precum. “you like that, don’t you princess?” he coos down to you condescendingly, picking up the pace of his hips as he rams into you mercilessly. the tree shakes from the force, sprinkling pretty and innocent petals over you both. “you wanna make me a daddy? my queen? give me a little prince or princess.”

“fuck yes, satoru!” nodding your head with wanton, you press yourself into his neck and squeeze him close by the ass cheeks so the only place your lover can go is deeper. you want to be able to feel him in your guts, hot in your womb like an iron rod — anything to forget the trickle of betrayal filling you up like a glass of wine. “i want it, i want it…i want—“

you cut yourself of with an abrasive sob, as you moan your agreements. i want you. you feel the words on the tip of your tongue, drowned out by the slippery sounds of sex and creaking tree trunk. you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you’ve wanted satoru gojo.

but he’s the wrong person, in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

“i know you do, i know,” you can feel gojo move to slobber over your chest, pacifying his whistle tone whimpers with your nipples bouncing in his mouth. he looks up at you with vacant cerulean eyes that shimmer like the skies above, the crude mix of your arousals slinging at the point at which your bodies join. “tell me how much you love daddy’s cock, princess.”

he goads because he craves your attention. satoru can feel you slipping from between his fingers, the guilt that rolls off of you in waves as he languidly rams into your cunt. he’s asking a lot of someone who’s too stimulated, too fucked out to speak — your tongue barely staying in your mouth.

“sato—!”

“c’mon… answer me, fuck, there we go.”

that’s when he hikes you up in his arms, lifting you a little to feverishly thrust up into you — dragging you closer to another high. your nails dig deep into his taut ass, nudging his dick against your g-spot. suguru would never be this rough with you, would never want to fuck you so good that the pleasure hurts.

shaking your head, your eyes glisten but the denial doesn’t stop small streams of arousal from squirting out and webbing against gojo’s soft pubes. “i-i can’t! i don’t—“ satoru bites down on your nipple, hard, cutting through your train of blurry thought. “i love…h-him!”

you love your fiancé, but you both know that’s a lie.

“yeah, sure you do. that’s why your pussy’s huggin’ my cock so tight. you don’t wanna let me go, baby.” even while he’s a mess for you, your rival still finds it in him to be such an egotistical prick. you can’t even tell him that he’s wrong, because you never ever want to be without satoru, without this immensely overwhelming feeling of ecstasy fluttering through your entire body. it’s all too much, he’s too much, stretching you wide and filling you with the love (and cum) you should be getting from suguru.

thunder cracks above your head, lightning flashes through the trees as if the higher power up above is bearing witness — growing distraught at your sins. it’s not long before the heavens open up on you both and your sweaty, sex slicked bodies are doused in rain. but it doesn’t stop you, doesn’t stop satoru from dragging down your bottom lip to lovingly spit into your mouth.

he kisses you as if it’s not enough, rocking his hips into you so he can bully your insides and mark them with his pre. “bet he’s lookin’ for you right now, hm? his precious wife to be…drenched in my cum ‘n drenched in the rain.” satoru heaves, letting the patter of the rain drown out the sound of his tightening balls slapping against your ass. “bet he wishes he could fuck you like i do.”

you can’t tell if it’s the tears of guilt and longing or the rain that blurs your vision. “h-he doesn’t get to!” you cry like a dirty porn-star, hardly becoming of a soon to be queen. “o-only you!”

“only me, hm? i’m flattered.” he seems elated, hiding his flushed face and happy smile in the junction between your neck and shoulder. his wet hair tickles your skin. “too bad he doesn’t know his princess comes used and abused between her pretty legs, huh?”

the rain is cold against your skin, seeping through your clothes, ruining your makeup — but the way satoru licks up your hot streaky tears and the droplets of water against your skin as if to sooth you… the way he does it fills you with warmth.

your limbs become heavy from your water-logged clothes and exhaustion, your whole body slumped against satoru’s strength but you still manage to rake your nails down his back as if you can’t be any closer. gojo doesn’t let your hips run from his either. his mind races, stuck on the idea of asking you to run away with him because he can’t just let you go back to geto. not again.

he can’t let you marry someone you’re not in love with.

it would be selfish of him to ask you to stay, even when you wrap your legs around him and have him plug up your tiny little hole with sticky white. he sees it in your eyes how much you care for him, even through the rain. he’s ruining you, from the inside out, knocking the crown from your head and he hates it.

“daddy loves this pussy,” he wishes for the moment to last forever, but you’re already so close — crying from every hole, suffocating his throbbing cock. neither of you can hold back. “he loves you. i love you.”

the confession nearly tears your world in two — but it’s all you need to hear before everything comes crashing down on you. “i-i love you!” you tell him, wailing the words loud and proud as you release on him for a second time, gushing obscene amounts against gojo’s tummy smooshed up on your clit. “sato—! satoru! cum with me, cum inside me!” scratching down his back and screwing your eyes shut, you tilt your head up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss.

the taste of salt on your cupid’s bow throws gojo over the edge too — his cockhead pours viscous white directly into your womb. “fuuuck, you’re so good princess…” and even though you know you should tell him to pull out, you don’t want him too. you want his baby, want his cum, want him always. even if that’s greedy of you.“fuckin’ take it…take all of me. all of that cum’s for you.” he slurs, beyond brainless.

lewd clapping noises echo between your bodies like the thunder up above as satoru fucks you through the rest of your highs, nose nudging your cheeks tenderly to soothe your tears. moaning, and crying against one another’s swollen lip. when his slow grinds come to a stop and your breathing recovers, the white haired lord gently sets you back in the ground — tenderly helping you to fix your drenched clothes back into place.

your thighs are completely bruised and his back is completely torn up. the last marks you’ll ever leave with each other.

“so about—“

“we… we can’t do this anymore, satoru.” you say almost immediately, shaky as if you’re in the verge of panic.

for the first time since you started doing this, sneaking off with one another, gojo notices the glint on your ring finger. and you feel the very same weight of that ring.

he shrugs you off, pulling up his pants and smirking. “that’s what you said last time—

“no satoru, i mean it now. we can’t.” it’s like you’ve come to your senses, realised the gravity of it all and what’s at stake. thirty days to get married, thirty days to become queen. “i’m going to become queen, your queen, in a matter of weeks and to do that i need to be married to him. i can’t mess this up. we have to stop.”

“but you don’t even want him,” he growls like a petulant child, roaring above the rain that cascades down on you both. “you want me. i want you. who gives a fuck about anything else?”

“duty gives a fuck! i have to marry him!”

throwing his hands up in defeat, satoru steps towards you, loud and intimidating, and you step back towards the tree. “you can’t even say his fucking name.”

“his name is suguru geto and i will marry him because you forced me to.” you spit, going toe to toe with him — chest heaving but tight from your heart break. “if you and your stupid higher ups had just stayed out my way. maybe there could have been a chance for us. but they didn’t and here we are and duty freaking calls, gojo.”

you storm off shortly after, be before he can see you cry again (for real this time). from his place hidden in the royal gardens, gojo watches sullenly as you approach your grandmother and fiancé — the elder queen disappointed in your current state and suguru clearly worried that the rain might make you catch a cold.

the perfect alibi to cover up the fact that you’d just fucked satoru gojo.

but the entire time, you never look back.

you don’t even look at gojo — and that’s how he knows you meant it. you always look back, always look for him in the crowd.

the knowledge hits him like a strike of lightning. he’s royally fucked up — you’re marrying for the crown, all because of him. and there’s no room for loving when you’ve got the weight of the nation on your shoulders.

#୨୧ KINKTOBER 23’#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #gojo thirst #jjk thirsts #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork

9K notes · View notes

sweetiecutie · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, headlock🤤, unprotected sex, creampie, a bit of fluff at the end

A/n: as promised, as soon as I came out of the cinema I started working on this! It’s not as nasty as I wanted it to be, but I’ll work on that🩷

Your bedroom smelled strongly of sex and sweat, loud moans along with praise mixed with degrading were bouncing off the tall walls, surely gaining the two of you a few noise complaints the next day. You were splayed in the middle of your huge queen-sized bed, head pressed into soft pillows and ass high up in the air as your boyfriend was dogging the shit out of you, making sure that your pussy was raw and thoroughly fucked.

You’ve been at it for hours - your sheets were wet with sweat and other bodily fluids, your ass felt hot from all the spanks Miguel generously delivered. Your throat felt sore from all the moaning and previous face-fucking, musky taste of Miguel’s cock still lingered on your tongue. You felt like a rag doll in your lover’s strong arms, too tired to move by yourself, but too greedy for pleasure to actually stop this sweet torture.

Miguel yanked your hips up higher, getting a firm grip on your waist; he shifted a bit, placing one foot on the mattress for better range of movements. A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your kiss-swollen lips as brunette absolutely ravaged you - he pounded your poor dripping pussy with so much vigor that your body shifted forward with each thrust, heavy balls slapping against your clammy skin with loud smacking sounds. Miguel’s large hands moved to smack your pretty ass so it jiggled in his palms, relishing to grab and mold your pliable flesh afterwards.

- Just look at this greedy pussy, taking every inch of me like a cock-hungry slut. Bet you were thinking about it whole day long, huh? - Miguel rasped above you, his filthy words caused heat rising up to your cheeks as you buried your face even deeper into soft pillows, but they couldn’t hide your reddened ears form his sharp eyes.

Miguel leaned down, one massive arm sliding underneath your neck, so that your chin was tucked right in the hollow of his elbow; a few moments later your face was squished in between male’s bulking bicep and a thick forearm, trapped in a firm headlock. He put most of his body weight onto your small body, pounding your dripping cunt into the bouncy mattress, stretching you out on his mighty girth, making your eyes roll back in intense pleasure. You felt Miguel’s free hand slipping underneath your tummy, finding your throbbing needy clit in no time and massaging it brutally with rough fingertips, matching the roughness of his hips slamming into you from behind.

- Oh baby, you’re drooling, - Miguel tutted in feigned pity, his hot lips brushing the shell of your ear, making hairs on the back of your neck rise.

His words brought you out of heavy haze of pleasure, bringing some consciousness to your foggy mind. And, indeed, your chin felt cooler because of your drool covering it, some even dribbled down onto Miguel’s arm, getting in between your chin and his inner elbow. Your hands came to his arm around your neck, fingers digging into firm muscles, leaving crescent-shaped marks on scarred skin.

- Mig..uel, I’m-

- Shhh, my love. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you, - Miguel shushed you softly, his hips slapping against your ass with even more vigor, making you momentarily forget whatever it was that you wanted to say.

He hissed as he felt your velvety walls clenching around him, the suckle of your pussy sent his hips bucking and forcing his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. A familiar coil makes itself knows in the pit of your stomach - a telltale sign of your next orgasm approaching rapidly.

- Oh fuck bunny, fuck fuck fuck. Gonna fill that pussy with my cum, full and nice, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? - Miguel rambled next to your ear as his pace became faster and sloppier.

- Pl..ease. Fuck, need.. it. ‘m so close, - you managed to stutter through

Your body prickled with desire and heat, Miguel’s fingers worked diligently on your clit along with his massive cock spreading you open, thick cockhead mushing against all of your sweet spots - he very soon had you cumming all around him, wringing a mind-blowing orgasm out of your exhausted body, your release leaving a noticeable white ring on the base of his dick.

A string or curses and quiet whimpers reached your ears as Miguel’s snapped his hips into yours quickly before stilling completely. Strong shudder ran through male’s massive body and, with a final moan, he shoot his thick cum inside of your fluttering heat, flooding your insides with his warmth.

Miguel went slack against your back, his body mounding against yours as he laid atop of you, making you squeak quietly under his weight. He chuckled airily as he rolled off you to the side, sliding his softening cock out of your bruised pussy. You whined at the feeling of emptiness, warm sperm dripped out in a small dribble, staining your slit and sheets underneath you. Miguel scooped you up in his big arms and maneuvered you to lay on top of his heaving chest, thick fingers tangled in your messy hair, massaging your scalp lovingly.

You took a deep breath, cuddling deeper into your lover’s neck, wrapping one arm around his broad shoulders. Your eyelids felt too heavy and Miguel felt too comfy to lay on, so you were fighting off sleep as much as you could.

- Go to sleep baby, I’ll clean everything up, - you heard a soft murmur, warm lips kissing your forehead in a comforting manner. You hummed in acknowledgment, getting more comfortable in Miguel’s arms.

- Love you, - you whispered tiredly, sleep heavy on your lids.

- Love you too angel

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love🩷🩷

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara spiderverse #spiderverse fanfic #spiderverse smut #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #across the spiderverse #sony spiderverse #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel spiderverse

11K notes · View notes

specshroom · 6 months

Text

•The Queen of Curses•

Part 1 / Part 2

(Ok So think of this as like a Sukuna wins and everyone dies AU lol. True form! Sukuna. Added the cursed blood bath for no reason. Suggestive, titty stuff but that's it, MDNI, She/her reader, no use of Y/N)

Sukuna didn't rein over the Heian Era alone. It was always him and his lover, burning and slaughtering together. Their love for eachother was well known across the land. People knew not to be fooled by her less intimidating looks (in comparison to her husband) for she was just as brutal and heartless as he.

All that changed when sorcerers from the era used all they're combined might to seal the Curse Queen inside a small cursed object, formed only from the combined sacrificed corpses of their comrades.

They knew that the only way to defeat the King and Queen was to separate them and they succeeded. After hearing of the fate of his lover Sukuna flew into a blind rage leading to his own defeat at the hands of the same sorcerers.

One thousand years of relative peace passed with the two lovers separated but still yearning for each other.

Luckily for the lovers, the ever devoted Uraume never stopped looking for a way to set their masters free. After centuries of searching and begrudgingly accepting a little help from Kenjaku, they finally found the cursed object that their Queen had been trapped in, a simple orb a little bigger than a tennis ball. It made Uraume's stomach turn thinking of such a powerful force being shoved into such a small thing. They carried the black orb with them everywhere while continuing the plot to releasing Sukuna. They found themselves whispering to it, compelled by the obsidian globe. They didn't know if their master could hear but they felt like it was right, like they could almost sense their masters overwhelming aura, compelling them to spill out everything they know. So Uraume spoke to it quite a lot, telling the dark orb and the beast inside about Sukuna's fate, about the new world, about Kenjaku and the plan to free her and her lover.

The plan that finally comes to fruition. Sukuna is freed, his true form is restored in all its glory and hes wreaked havoc on most of Shibuya just as a warm up. Uraume kneels before him.

"Master Sukuna."

They say bowing their head.

"Hmm?"

Sukuna hums an acknowledgement, eyeing them with contempt.

Uraume brings the dark crystal like ball out of their loose robes and holds it up, presenting it to their king. "Now, with your power fully restored we can release the Queen from her containment."

Sukuna stares at the ball in the sorcerers hand and gestures for Uraume to give it to him. He holds it as gently as his colossal hand is able to. It seems to get hotter in his hand, so hot it would surely sear the skin of a mortal. He pears into the orb only seeing his reflection in it, the Curse king nods to Uraume. He places it on the ground and they both step back, arms reaching out towards the orb on the ground.

In unison they both let out powerful blasts of cursed energy aiming right at the cursed seal. Strong streams of power, one white hot and the other pearcing cold, the orb starts to crack emitting a glowing white light. "It's breaking! Don't stop!" Sukuna orders and Uraume grunts but dutifully follows orders. The cracks grow wider and the light shines brighter before it's too blinding and they both cover their eyes as a powerful blast pierces the air.

In the settling dust stands a figure that's all too familiar to the both of them. They both watch as the figure shifts, leaning back and stretching their arms above their head, releasing a groan that is appropriate for someone who hasn't been able to move much in a thousand years. When the woman finally turns to Sukuna she sighs and smiles, letting out a relieved huff. Sukuna grins triumphantly and opens all four of his arms expecting a tide of thankful affection from his lover. When she takes the first few steps towards him her smile starts to waver until it's down to a grimace. Sukuna tenses as her eyes darken. He opens his mouth to ask what's the matter as she walks up to him and-

*SLAP*

Silence envelops the already desolate atmosphere. Sukuna's head is turned to the side, his eyes wide. He blinks before glaring at the offender with a look that could kill. She stares up at him with eyes just as deadly.

"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME IN THAT FUCKING BALL FOR SO LONG!!?"

Sukuna stares with his mouth open for a second genuinely shocked into silence until that second is over and he responds with equal vitriol.

" HUH?! THAT WAS YOUR OWN FAULT WOMEN! DONT BE UNGRATEFUL!"

The two fiery curses glare at each other with such violent intent, the very air around them heats up.

"WHAT KIND OF SHITTY HUSBAND ALLOWS HIS OWN WIFE TO GET SEALED!"

"YOU CAN'T BLAME ME FOR THAT! DIDN'T I JUST SET YOU FREE?"

"DONT TAKE ALL THE CREDIT YOU BASTARD! URAUME'S THE ONE WHO-"

As if the women just remembered that the other sorcerer exists, she turns around and there her loyal subject is, kneeling in her presence.

" Welcome back master, it's good to see you"

The woman's face brightens up immediately, "Uraume~" She sings running up to the sorcerer and lifting them into a bone crushing hug that would've killed a lesser being. "Oh, Thank you Uraume. My dutiful subject, you did so good." The Curse Queen coos at the sorcerer, squishing their face into her chest and stroking their duel coloured hair. Uraume doesn't hug back as to be respectful of their superior but they don't push back either, just letting their master man-handle (woman-handle?) them.

Sukuna clicks his tongue at the show of affection and crosses two of his massive arms over his chest. No doubt in disbelief that HIS wife doesn't embrace HIM first after a thousand years spent apart.

The wife in question turns to him with Uraume still in her arms, an irritated look on her face.

"What's your problem?"

"My problem is that MY wife is being an ungrateful bitch."

The benevolent woman stills and Uraume peers up at her from their place, nestled into the cleavage of her loose fitting kimono. The woman sets Uraume down onto the ground gently. She breathes a heavy sigh and in less that a second she's on Sukuna throwing a mass of red hot cursed energy right into his face. He blocks it in time and is able to keep blocking her continuous fast attacks. She gets frustrated and lets out a powerful blast that shakes the earth and forces him to jump back to avoid the blast.

She laughs with relief, finally being able to let out all that pent up cursed energy feels amazing. Her tattoos (similar to Sukuna's but not quite the same) almost seem to glow with the immense energy output being let off from her body. Only the tattoos on her face, neck and wrists are visible but Sukuna knows very well what the rest looks like, having traced every inch of ink with his fingers.

Sukuna takes the opportunity while she's distracted by the pure euphoria of letting her energy loose and comes barreling towards her, she can't react before he tackles her to the ground. He pins her hands down with two of his hands and another goes to roughly grab her jaw.

"Does it feel good to finally let off some steam, Baby?"

The king of curses teasingly remarks from above her.

"Baby? That's new." She questions with a teasing grin. Her words are a bit slurred from the way her husband is holding her jaw.

"Might as well get with the times." He bites back with an even more cocksure grin. She scratches and kicks at him and bites at his hand. With all her concentration she channels the sheer amount of pent up cursed energy in her body and lets it burst out in a deafening blast that knocks Sukuna off of her. Static reverberates in the air.

In the few seconds it takes for him to recover she takes the opportunity to pounce on him pinning him to the ground. Grinning from her place above him her heavy breaths and beating heart match his. Her crazy, alert eyes meet four others with the same sentiment.

"I missed you so fucking much." Sukuna says before he pulls her by her robes into a deep kiss. The kiss is somehow aggressive and sensual.

Two of Sukuna's massive hands go to her waist and thigh holding her body to his as he sits up. The third hand is on the floor for balance and the last is tangled in her hair pressing her further into the kiss, as if that's even possible. Both Cursed beings are glad that they don't need to breath or else they surely would have suffocated each other by now.

The queen of curses has never been more pleased by the fact that her husband doesn't seem to know what a shirt is. Sukuna has voiced many times that he wished his wife shared the same sentiments only for her to scoff at the suggestion, although, now she thinks the idea is one of the best he's ever had.

They fight for dominance with their tongues. Still locked in the passionate sloppy kiss the woman unlatches her hands from his hair to slip off the robes she was wearing over a loose fitting kimono. She unwraps the black accented white Kimono, rather slowly in sukunas opinion to let her breasts fall free to the warm air.

Sukuna releases his mouth from hers, licking his spit slicked lips to stare down at his beautiful wife's beautiful tits.

"Yeah, remember these are mine. Only mine." Sukuna grumbles lowly before smooshing his face right between them, sighing deeply like a thousand year old itch has finally been scratched.

"Aww, is Ryō a little jealous?" The woman preens in a patronising manner while lightly stroking his fluffy hair.

"Poor baby~" She coos, repeating the pet name he used for her. Her teasing only gets a glare and a growl from the beast of a man currently buried in her tits, holding her impossibly closer to his face.

She chuckles down at him, a loving yet menacing look in her eyes.

"Well maybe I should let Uraume- where did they go?"

She looks around the scorched city landscape looking for her white haired subordinate and as if they heard her words summoning them they appear with a respectful bow.

"I have made the preparations for your bath."

"Thank you, Uraume~"

The woman beams and turns to the man who is still occupied with her tits, he's now picked a tit to suckle on, fondling the other in his rough hand.

"come now Ryo, it's time for our bath." She says curtly and the man groans with his mouth full, absolutely dreading even the idea of his tongue leaving the hardened nipple he's been sucking on. If the two objects poking her ass are any indication if it was up to him they would never get to the blood bath Uraume so kindly set up for them.

She tries standing up and pulling away but the man is latched on tightly, all four arms clutching around her as if they never want to be an inch apart from her again. The more she struggles the bigger the two chubs in his pants grow. She sighs and struggles once more.

"Uraume planned this out very nicely for us, Ryomen. Just do what I say Damnit!"

She pulls at his hair and he bites down on her tit in response, earning a yelp and a harsh smack on the head from her. He laughs, not with the mouth on her tit but with the mouth on his stomach. She peers down at it, as if she just remembered it's there. Without wasting more time she grabs the large tongue crushing it with her grip and tugging on it hard.

Sukuna releases her tit to yell out in pain.

"OW, WOMAN! You should be grateful for every ounce of attention I give you! OW!"

As Sukuna rages, she snorts and jumps out of his now loosened arms. Turning her back to him, she approaches the other sorcerer who's head is still bowed.

"Uraume, would you kindly show me to my bath?"

"Of course, Master"

Uraume stands and bows their head. Holding out their arm for their Queen.

She holds onto Uraume's arm, purposely squishing her still exposed breasts into the sorcerer's side as she smiles down at them.

"I guess we'll have the bath all to ourselves then, Uraume~"

Uraume closes their eyes with a knowing smile and nods in response, very accustomed to the games the two lovers would play with each other, often forcing them right in the middle. Their Queen would often promise that she'd one day make Uraume flustered, something that to this day has yet to occur.

The sorcerer doesn't even flinch at their powerful master fawning over them, stroking their arm and pressing her now marked up tits closer into them as the two walk off towards the bath Uraume prepared.

"HEY!! WHAT THE HELL!?? URAUME!"

Sukuna sits in disbelief at his wife's antics. As if he's only now remembering what a tease she is and has always been.

His wife looks back at him over her shoulder, she shrugs her kimono off her shoulder, exposing her tattooed shoulder to him before turning back to Uraume snickering.

Sukuna huffs and grins, shaking his head. He's so fucking happy to have his wife back.

(AN: I was originally planning to make this smut but... It just got away from me😭😭 sooo... Maybe in a part two? 👀👀)

#this art of Sukuna will live in my head forever now btw #Uraume my beloved #jjk x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna scenarios #jjk smut #jjk sukuna #true form sukuna #uraume #uraume x reader #queen of curses

4K notes · View notes

lucretiaadventurezone · 6 months

Text

TAZ Dashboard Simulator 2 (Part 1)

🔥 lup-da-lup Follow

be back soon 💋 im gonna go fight this guy for my relic

🔥 lup-da-lup Follow

Ubmrella

#girl help #im trapped

(7 notes)

In your orbit!

🪩 avi-the-ball-guy

↻ woe-is-johann

🤼 best-fantasy-prowrestler-tournament Follow

Round 4: Semi-Finals

Jeff Angel Propaganda:

from @.ango-mcdango: I <3 JEFF ANGEL HE’S SO COOL AND HE ALWAYS CALLS HIS DAD

Jess the Beheader Propaganda:

from @.bagnus-murnsides: jess literally has a dope ass axe

#jess sweep

(379 notes)

🚀 cap-n-port

↻ you-know-from-tv Follow

┌───────────────────┐

😎 Anonymous asked:

Your captain looks gnc as fuck

└───────────────────┘

👖 lactosewarrior5000

YOU'RE INSANE

#Thank you very much!

(29,399 notes)

🐱 Sponsored by Fantasy Costco

You Don’t Need All of Your Blood; Here’s Why

The Director doesn’t want you to know this…

🎻 woe-is-johann

↻ avi-the-ball-guy

🪩 avi-the-ball-guy

cannonball system liveblog

🪩 avi-the-ball-guy

ball

🪩 avi-the-ball-guy

ball

🪩 avi-the-ball-guy

other. ball

#babe we gotta get you a fidget toy or something #clearly you're getting bored at work

(23 notes)

📔 sheesh-creesh

↻ lup-da-lup Follow

💋 lesbian-orc-lover Follow

lucretia was 18 when the ipre mission left??!? she should've been at the club!!

✨ you-know-from-tv Follow

oh trust me one of the planes we went to was a giant disco and lucy was freakin it sensitive style day and night

🔥 lup-da-lup Follow

real footage of lucretia at the club ↑↑

#I'm actually going to kill both of you #mutuals #queue never know what you'll find #reblogs

(35,095 notes)

❄️ neverwinter-heritage-posts

↻ magic-brian-with-an-i Follow

┌───────────────────┐

🚂 jerreeeeee asked:

is magnus burnsides gay??

└───────────────────┘

📖 dailycalebcleveland

why would you ask us, a caleb cleveland blog, this

#neverwinter heritage posts

(109,837,936 notes)

🧣 weaver-of-fate

↻ raven-queen-official

🐦‍⬛ raven-queen-official

i loev my beaugifyl wife so muchnohmygod

🐦‍⬛ raven-queen-official

where is smy wife i wanst to see herh

🐦‍⬛ raven-queen-official

hiiiiiiiidjiiii omg shge. is here :D

#apologies guys we hung out with pan and she got FUCKED up #you know how poker nights get #wife tag

(74 notes)

🐦 7-bird-watcher

↻ not-a-shitty-wizard Follow

🪄 mage-guy-19274637 Follow

people who actually like bugs are absolute freaks

🕷️ magic-brian-with-an-i Follow

wrong! spider attack

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️

#sent to me

(6,074 notes)

🌈 lucretiaadventurezone

#i simply had to make another one it was way too fun #can you spot all the references?#long post #fake tumblr post #taz balance #the adventure zone #a sydney original #taako #lup #barry bluejeans #davenport #istus #the raven queen #avi #johann #johavi #istus/the raven queen

2K notes · View notes

fan-goddess · 1 month

Note

can you hotd characters (mostly alicent and rhaenrya) when the reader almost passes in child birth? thank youuuu :3

A/N: Yep can do! I’ve never given birth, gotten pregnant nor seen anything resembling child birth apart from the Aemma scene in HOTD so I hope I did this justice!? Sorry this has taken so long!

Character Roll Call: Rhaenyra, Alicent, Daemon, Aemond and Jacaerys (All romantic love)

Warnings: Child birth, talk of infertility, talk of not able to have children, pregnancy, she/her pronouns used in some places for reader, talk of death during childbirth, talk about smut but no smut, dirty talk, a most likely inaccurate childbirth telling, graphic detailing of blood and gore, this is not proofread! (if I miss any please let me know in a way you’re most comfortable!)

Rhaenyra Targaryen:

It was not the typical marriage you and your husband shared. For whilst you had never had a particular fondness for goose, he understood that and went after his own interest in tasting the variety the world provided him with.

So while he was off exploring, you were in the chambers of the heir of the realm. Showing her your devotion in the most unexpected of ways.

Yet soon, after nearly two years of marriage with no children, people were beginning to become suspicious of your womb. More specifically, your husband’s own family. There was talk of them already arranging a second marriage for him as your womb was supposedly infertile. So after a talk with him, you and your husband for a whole of three months, with the help of Rhaenyra. And just when you thought your efforts were unsuccessful, the maester greeted you with a smile, and told you you were with child.

Your lover took the news surprisingly well, as Rhaenyra spent all hours of the day with you comparing possible names for the baby. Your husband had done his part in this game. Now, you and Nyra could spend your days eating the cake and kissing the days away. Acting oblivious to the hateful world surrounding the two three of you.

“What about Aurion?” Nyra suggests, a lazy smile on her lips as she places a fork with a large chunk of vanilla cake on the end between your lips.

“Hmmmmm” You hum, smiling in thought. “Perhaps let’s not raise more suspicions than we’d like my darling. How about something not so Valyrian?”

She laughs, and yet agrees with you with her smile turning strained and sad. Her hand reaches for your own instinctively and you quickly move to grab it and squeeze it tight. “Alright alright! What about Rhys? Ivan? Those are some more boring names!”

You laugh, and yet make sure to note them down somewhere in your head. You discuss names of girls also, just in case. Yet months later as you sat screaming your heart out on the birthing bed, those names disappeared as pain became all you know.

“You must push my lady! The baby is trapped you must push!” One of the ladies in waiting says as she positions herself by your bottom half.

“I’M TRYING TO FUCKING PUSH!” You scream, sweat dripping down your face as your eyes screw shut. Your voice loud as the pain spreads further through you, till eventually you feel it all over.

Soon, the pain that blooms all over becomes numbing. Especially, when you feel your eyes becoming heavy, eventually shutting so all you see is black and the world becomes silent.

“What is happening?!” Rhaenyra screams, her face becoming pale as memories of her mother come flooding to her head. “What is happening to her?!”

“The lady is haemorrhaging!” One of the maesters yells, a multitude of rags of all sorts in his hands as he attempts to stop the blood from further dripping onto the floor. The babe that had quite literally fallen out of your whilst you had fallen unconscious was quickly taken away by the ladies in waiting to be cleaned and attended to. So now, all focus was on keeping you alive. By order of the future Queen of Westeros.

It feels as thought it had taken hours to stop the bleeding. Yet that meant nothing till Rhaenyra who waited anxiously by your side with your hand in her own. Her fingers poised by your pulse so she can reassure herself that you were truly living beside her and not dead like her mother.

By the time you had finally begun to rouse from your deep slumber, the day had turned to night. And all those in the room were exhausted from the effort it took. The maesters in particular, who knew that if they allowed themselves to slack, the princess would soon be upon them with the fury of the dragons.

“My love….” Rhaenyra whispered, at this point uncaring of the multiple people in that room who’d scuttle themselves to her father and the hand at the slightest chance of a scandal. “Do you hurt?”

“As much as childbirth allows me to be in…” You laugh, yet wincing as soon as your body moves. “I am glad you were here… i fear if you weren’t-“

“Do not speak of such things!” Rhaenyra begs, her hands clutching your own tightly as if she was fearful you would drop dead. “I forbid it!”

“Do you say that as my future queen or as my friend?” You murmur, both knowing the true meaning of the word.

“I say that as both..” Rhaenyra whispers, kissing the top of your head as one of the ladies in waiting comes in holding the bundle containing your baby.

“It’s a daughter, my lady.” She says, walking over and placing her in your arms.

“She’s beautiful…” you can’t help but say, brushing away one of her curls from her eyes. You can feel Rhaenyras eyes on you, and so you take her hand and somehow manage to pull her closer.

“I wish to name her Arya.” You firmly say, locking eyes with your daughter who begins to cry in hunger.

“Beautiful…” Rhaenyra says, unable to tear her eyes from the sight of you beginning to breastfeed your child.

Alicent Hightower:

Even while Alicent was married to the king, yours and hers unique relationship had never once wavered. When Alicent had her children with the king, who did not even enter the room when the time of birth came, it was you who held her hand in place of her mother’s, and murmured soft words of encouragement and affirmation into her ears.

While you had your own, even though your mother was there to be by your side as a place of comfort, it was only Alicent name that sprung from your lips. Begging for her to come closer so you can hold her hand and beg her for mercy and encouragements.

Most recently, your third pregnancy had been said by the maesters to be the most difficult one yet. Pain was all you knew through those last few months. Pain in your legs from when you were forced to walk to the dining hall. Pain in your belly from where not only did the baby insist on kicking but also from the cramps the maesters insisted did not need to be further looked at.

Yet Alicent was always close by ready to lend a helping hand whenever the moment allowed her too. According to her, she still has the old treatment the maesters had prescribed her with just in case she fell pregnant again after Daeron.

“You… my utter darling, are my world!” You moaned, eyes shut closed as Alicent carefully massaged the soothing ointment into the base of your feet. She continues to help whenever she can. The ointments and herbs she providing you with being much better than anything the dreading maesters could’ve ever given you.

Yet like most treatments, the effectiveness wore off. Soon, not even the most obscure of medicines would work on you. Pain was always lingering in every part of your body. Even in places you had no idea were on your body.

“I just want this babe out of me!” You groan one night while Alicent once again attempts to stop your pain using this time a supposed miracle working ointments from Lys. “Nothing is fucking working!”

“Well complaining won’t solve anything!” Alicent attempts to jest, though quickly haults any other further attempt after a harsh glare worthy enough to rival the Strangers is sent hastily her way. “Perhaps it is the gods way of telling you how strong you are for having this child? A way to tell you how powerful your son will no doubt be in the future?”

“I would not care if I was to birth a dragon for gods sakes I only with for it to come out of me so I can no longer feel so fucking horrible!” You groan, “I have already told my lord husband that this shall be my last time on that fucking bed! If he even brings his cock within inches of me it’s being torn off his body and fed to your children’s dragons my love!”

“Oh hush now!” Alicent scows, a rare bout of anger coming about her. “The gods have their meanings and their ways! Though I for once shall agree with you. You will be having three beautiful children my love, and that is all you need. Perhaps you could give birth to a daughter and we can betroth her to Aemond?”

“Perhaps…”

By the time the ninth moon has passed, it is quick to say that you were very much serious about this being your last child.

“GET THE FUCKING CHILD OUT OF ME!” You scream, the maesters wincing at the volume rivalling that of a child being born. Something your own child it seems is refusing to let happen. “RIP IT OUT IF MUST BUT IF I DIE I SHALL HAUNT THIS KEEP FOREVER MORE!”

“There shall be no talk of dying on this bed from you!” Alicent yells, her grip on your hands almost as tight as your hand on hers.

The maesters voices cutting through though as they announce how they can see the babes head. Meaning to much your relief the pain will hopefully be soon over and you can hold the thing that’s been hurting you for nearly nine moons in your arms to give it a stern talking off.

You make sure to push hard when the maesters tell you too, even pushing when they don’t so you could hopefully get the babe out quicker. But even when you feel the babe quite literally fall out of you and hear its cries, the maesters make their own cries far more audible.

“Alicent what is happening?!” You ask, feeling what feels like warm liquid gushing from your lower half. Only she does not respond. Only turning paler than the sheets that with horror, you realise are turning a deep red from blood. Your blood.

And It only turns worse when you realise just how faint you feel. A once iron grip you had on Alicents hand turning weak and feeble as your eyes slowly begin shutting.

It’s all a blur when you feel your body waking. Yet still your eyes have not grown enough strength to open, so it’s with great horror you realise you are still conscious but are practically unable to move. You are alive but it is as if your body is dead.

You can hear Alicent beg for your sake. And you realise with your heart beating frantically in your chest that you can also hear her hushing a baby you had not realised was crying this whole time. Your baby.

“Your mother is sleeping now…” You can hear her say, tears building in your eyes when you hear how damaged her voice sounds. “She is strong, your mother. She will wake and see what a beautiful baby boy she has waiting for her… it won’t be long now. I promise.”

You try as hard as you can to open your eyes, yet your attempts prove to be impossible. Yet somehow, you manage to utter two words to your lover while your lower half screams in pain at you.

“Thank you…”

Daemon Targaryen:

It was no surprise to anyone when after a few mere moons after your marriage to the rogue Prince Daemon, you were announcing you were pregnant with his child.

The king had said his congratulations and announced a feast in his nephew or nieces name, and even Daemon had to admit the whole ceremony was wonderful.

Yet like everything in life, all good things must come to an end. The announcement of the first babe of the rogue prince turned sour as news quickly spread about how much pain you were in from them.

The babe refused to let you rest for even a second. All it did was kick and kick, and make you feel shitter than any other possible ailment in the world. You almost felt like having a conversation with the stranger after one too many bouts of particularly bad spells.

“You must let your muña rest ñuha trēsy… let ñuha jorrāelagon rest…” Daemon murmurs one night against the swollen bulge of your stomach. The warmth his dragon like body providing you with being possibly the best thing he’s given you since the day you married him.

“You know I do not understand a single thing you say in that tongue of yours…” You say, eyes closed as you relish in the lack of kicking and blinding pain. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was at least obvious now that your child had chosen favourites.

“Just because you cannot understand something does not mean you cannot understand the beauty of it.” Daemon murmurs, his voice gentle and nurturing as he continues attempting to soothe you.

His words to others would be considered strange and out of character. But as you’ve come to realise over the time of your betrothal and marriage, even though that shared time has lasted around only a year, you know deep down beneath the hardened dragon scale skin of his is a heart that bears solely for the life of those he loves. The latest addition being of course the babe of his own blood nestled in your belly.

It was such a lovely moment, and yet it seemed that would be the last of its kind the rest of the time your babe was steadily growing inside. The more time passed the less Daemons unusually warm body worked in soothing your unrelenting aches and pains.

“Are you okay ñuha jorrāelagon?” He asks one evening, his brows furrowed in what has become a near constant state of stress and worry for you. For is has now nearly been a full nine moons of pregnancy, and with that, it means the babe will hopefully be born.

“Unless you can get this child out of me with no pain,” You grunt, mentally cursing Daemons cock for being what it was. “Then I suggest you leave me be and allow me to wallow with the seed you yourself placed within me!”

For the first time in a while, Daemons worried stricken face turns cheery as he laughs at the familiar wit of yours that helped him to fall in love with you in the first place. The rest of the day is filled with similar circumstances, as while the babe continues to make your days a misery, Daemon is right by your side never ever venturing too far away from you.

You suppose it is why he insisted on being by your side when two days pass and you were on the birthing bed, his hand locked firmly in yours while your screams echo off the walls. You swear you can feel your cunt tear and drip with blood, yet with how much you screamed you honestly couldn’t be able to hear it.

“Please Daemon!” You beg, a multitude of tears running down your face. “Please make it stop!”

“It’ll be over soon ñuha jorrāelagon…” Daemon tries to comfort you with soft words and a tight reassuring grip, and yet his face clear as day is struck with fear and nervousness.

“You said that hours ago Daemon!” You sob, screaming even more as you feel the dragon spawn within you break even more of your innards. “I just want it out!”

“You will my love you will! You are strong and brave and a fighter! You will not die today do you hear me!?”

Daemons hands envelope the sides of your head to force you to look and him, and yet he’s utterly horrified when your eyes roll to the back of your head and your hand that was once clutching his shirt for dear life falls limply by your side.

Daemons words reach no bounds as he insults the maesters and common people alike, swearing if his wife was to die then all shall die with her. So even in the seven hells his wife can make sure she achieves the justice she deserves.

Yet it somehow enrages him further when by the next hour, the maesters have managed to successfully take out the babe from within you, and present it to him as his first born, whilst other maesters make quick work of stemming the bleeding and disposing of the evidence.

Daemons eyes watche as a wet nurse moves to take his son into her arms and takes him into another room so she can clean his son, and it’s not until they’ve left does he begin to shout.

“IS THAT ALL IT TOOK? MY WIFE WAS SCREAMING IN AGONY ON THE BED, BLOOD POURING OUT, AND YET IT IS ONLY WHEN YOUR LIVES ARE THREATENED DO YOU HELP HER?!” He yells, his hand clutching the hilt of dark sister as a reminder that he has the upper hand. He’s the prince of the realm. The rogue Prince. If he wanted to kill people then he will fucking kill someone.

The maesters faces turn ashen as they stand there, practically shaking as they fear for their lives. Daemon is almost tempted to actually kill them. To send a message that no one fucks around with the rogue princes wife. That is however, until he hears a stir behind him and feels a familiarly soft hand clutch his own that previously had clutched dark sister.

“My love!” Daemon breathes, his face one of pure joy as he drops the sword hastily and moves to clutch your still weak body in his arms. “I was so worried!”

“What have you done with my Daemon?” He can hear you say, the laughter in your tone surprising considering what had just happened.

“Don’t worry ñuha jorrāelagon, he was here a few moments ago, about to kill some pathetic fucking maesters…” Daemon begins, turning with a dark glare when he sees the said maesters still standing where they were before in fear. “But I suggest they scarper before dark sister becomes hungry for rat blood once more!”

This time, Daemon doesn’t turn back to watch them all practically run from the room. Not when there is someone in front of him so much more important.

“Where are they?” You say, your movements still sluggish as you wince while trying to turn your body to look around the room.

“Where is who ñuha jorrāelagon?” Daemon asks, preoccupied with finding the cup of milk of the poppy one of the maesters had said was somewhere in the room. A hum of satisfaction slipping his lips when he eventually sees it and grabs it, before placing it by your lips to try and force you to drink it.

“Where’s our baby?” You murmur, wincing again when the bitter taste of the drink runs down your throat. “I want to see them!”

“I will get him for you jorrāelagon.” Daemon says, moving to the direction of where the wet nurse had taken his son too. When he does find her, he does not care for whatever she has to say. Instead just moving to take the boy in his arms and walk back to you, who’s already sat up through the pain ready to see your son.

“Oh Daemon…” You breath, your eyes focused solely on the babe in his arms. “He’s beautiful…”

“He takes after you…” Daemon murmurs back. A soft smile on his face as he moves the boy into your arms. “What shall we name him my love?”

“What about Aenor? First of his name…”

“I love it…” Daemon murmurs, kissing the top of your sweat soaked head and moving to perch against the edge of the bed transfixed by the holy sight in front of him. “I love you…”

Aemond Targaryen:

Your husband wasn’t anything except attentive. Every moment after finding out you were with child he spent within meters of yourself. Even when you slept, his hand was always placed on your stomach.

“I would never allow myself to live if you were hurt ñuha vēzos.” Aemond would murmur against your skin, amongst other Valyrian words this time against the curve of your slowly swelling belly. Each one sending your skin further and further aflame with desire and love for your husband.

The whole pregnancy though, for the most of it, was smooth and ordinary. The baby had begun to kick a little after the fifth moon of your pregnancy, and Aemond was eager to experience every part of it. Yet when you’d passed the eighth moon, that was when everything began to turn on its head.

Pain was blooming in your stomach nearly everyday, and even with the maesters having to forcibly pour milk of the poppy down your throat, you had resisted firmly, not wanting the babies health to be put as such risk especially so close to the due date. Especially when you have been in the presence of the king, who openly abused the opioid near daily.

Yet the maesters with stern eyes and unwavering faces, claimed that if anything, it was the pain inside you that would risk the babies health. So whilst you wished pain on the maesters, they stood there stiffly with a near full to the brim cup of the drink. They watched every time you were needed to drink it. Even going as far as to make you open your mouth wide to make sure you weren’t resisting.

Aemond though like he had done so earlier in your pregnancy, was never as far as an arms reach. He never said anything to maesters face to face, yet he certainly did not hide his anger from you when the two of you would lay in bed holding one another in a close embrace.

“If it weren’t for the babe, I’d strike them where they stand…” He’d begun to murmur. Starting his now usual evening moan about how according to him, they weren’t good enough to care for his pregnant wife. Sometimes it’s sad as you realise how he at his lowest points believes even he is not good enough for you.

“Don’t let that stop you…” You indiscreetly murmur back, a clear glare on your face as you try to drink something to wash away the bitter taste of milk of the poppy.

“Dont you tempt me now ñuha vēzos… I very much can and will make my way to wherever those men lie and slaughter them before it’s time to break fast tomorrow.” Aemond chuckles, a comforting hand on your stomach where near instantly you can feel the babe kick twice. As if the babe was eager to say hello to its father.

“That’s right ñuha valītsos… kepa is here…” Aemond murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your very spine. If you weren’t already eight moons pregnant, you very well would be eager to take him right at this moment and take his seed deep inside till it takes root.

“You are getting distracted valītsos…” Aemond says, smirking at the dark blush that spreads on your face. It matters not how long you’ve been married to Aemond for, since he’ll always manage to find a way to fluster him. You suppose it’s as fun for him as it is for you to fluster him. Though you suppose by doing that is how you ended up in this position in the first place…

“How can I not, when theres such a beautiful man in front of me?” You say, grinning triumphantly when Aemonds own face turns a light pink. It’s not as dark as your own, but even seeing Aemond blush without him trying to hide himself away counts as a win to you.

The two of you revel in the rare soft moment between you both, and it’s not long before you both fall asleep holding each other.

It felt so perfect at that moment, as all the previous worries about the babe swept away. The both of you honestly didn’t think the whole ordeal could get worse. That is however, until your waters broke and you were lying on the birthing bed. Your screams breaking Aemonds heart as he tries his best to comfort you to the best of his ability.

Yet his controlled anger and frustration comes out in waves as your screams continue further and further into the day, and the maesters it seems are no further to helping you than from when they started.

Aemond withholds every single urge to kill them for their insolence for your sake, given that they are supposedly they best men available to help bring his and your child into the world. Though when he sees your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body go limp after attempting to push the babe out again per the maesters instructions, all hell broke loose there and then.

“What have you done!?” Aemond yells, his voice whilst commanding also torn with how scared he feels at that moment. His uncles wife, and his grandsires wives had died in childbirth attempting to bring a child into the world. He cannot have such a thing happen to you.

“You are meant to help my wife not fucking kill her! If she is to die today then so shall all of you! Your blood shall stain these walls if she dies do you all understand!” He yells, tears brimming in his eyes from how emotional he currently feels. Aemond refuses to let go of you hand as the maesters scurry around like rats to appease him.

It’s not long before the sound of a babes cry brings him from his sorrowful thoughts.

“It’s a daughter my Prince.” One of the maesters says, before handing her off to a nearby maid presumably to go clean her off of all of your blood and other bodily fluids Aemond most certainly does not wish to be thinking of right now.

Instead, Aemond chooses to grab a lone damp cloth free from any uncleanliness, and carefully uses it to wipe away the sweat on your face. Yet even with all of that Aemond still believes you to be as beautiful as when he first ever saw you.

The sound of your blood onto the floor that Aemond had tried to ignore for his own sake earlier finally stops, and he’s grateful that the maid comes back with his daughter then so he doesn’t have to think about any of that.

“I will give the baby to a wetnurse my Prince for her first feed.” The maid begins to say, about to walk away. That is however before she feels the princes hand clutching tightly on her shoulder forbidding her to leave.

“She will feed from her mother.” Aemond says firmly, moving to take his daughter away from the silly woman’s grasp. “‘Twas a decision me and my wife made and you shall respect that. Now leave.”

The maid stands there a moment surprised, even looking to the maesters for guidance in the situation. But when Aemond looks up at them with a cold glare on his face and a sneer on his lips, both the maesters and the maid make quick work on leaving the Prince with his daughter in his arms and his unconscious wife by his side.

He does not know how long it is till you finally begin to stir, and yet it does not matter. All that does matter is that you woke at all.

“How are you feel ñuha vēzos?” Aemond murmurs, his daughter in one arm as in the other he holds the cup holding the milk of the poppy he makes you drink. Making sure you don’t waste a drop.

“Like I’ve given birth…” You simply say, suddenly focusing on the baby in Aemonds arms. “Is that-“

“Yes ñuha vēzos. This is our daughter.”

Aemonds hands her to you, and when she begins to stir it’s almost instantly you bring down your dress and place her near your breast. Hissing slightly as she begins to immediately nurse from it.

“She’s beautiful.” You find yourself saying, refusing to take your eyes from her. “She looks like you sweet husband.”

“She may look like me but I believe she has her mother’s beauty.” Aemond says, moving to hold your hand in his. “What shall we name her my love?”

“What about Elaenor?”

“It’s perfect…” Aemond says, kissing the top of your head. “She’s perfect…”

Jacaerys Velaryon:

It appears Jacaerys was ever as loyal as they say. As even after being married in an arranged fashion, and finding out you were pregnant with his child after consummating the marriage, his presence was never far from you.

When in the middle of the night sickness plagued your body, it was Jace who was right there next to you with a bucket in hand. Even going as far as to hold your hair back with his hand so no sick could ruin it.

“Is this what it is like for all women?” Jace asks, attempting to smooth you while you once again throw your dinner up into a bucket, groaning whilst you do so.

“Only the lucky…” You moan, about to turn to look at your husband before you find yourself immediately needing to throw up again.

At first, it was strange to you to have a husband be so close and eager to be by up side, given the stories that your mother had told you. Yet now, you honestly could not think of your marriage without the little services Jace provides you with.

Whenever you find yourself craving a certain food, no matter how bizarre or disgusting it may seem to him, Jace was always willing to call a maid and inform her to make it for you.

“Thank you husband.” You sigh in delight, chewing on some honey dipped carrots in the comfort of yours and Jaces bed.

“It is no problem my lady.” He says, awkwardly perched by the edge of the bed covers while he watches you eat.

“You can come closer Jace…” You laugh, patting the side of the bed indicating your want to have him closer to you. His warmth comforting. His smile kind. “You have seen me naked before. I do not think you have the ability right now to be shy. Call me by my name Jace. It is only fair since I have been calling you by yours.”

“Of course… wife.” Jace smiles, a strange girlish sounding giggle leaving your lips as he moves himself closer and opens his arms so he can enclose you in them. “Has the babe been bothering you much today?”

“Only as much as usual.” You sigh, choosing to invite his pointed stare in honour of eating another one of your special foods. “Though not as much as I have been eating these.”

“That is good.” He simply says, softly kissing the top of your head as he touches the skin of your arms with his hand. “That is good…” He repeats again more gentler than the last.

The next few months all went smooth as they could go. You were still throwing up in the mornings and some evenings, and experienced some horrible cramps once every few weeks. What was the most difficult and painful thing you had to endure however, was the birth of the babe itself.

It felt like it was ripping out of you. Screams pierced the air as it felt as if the babe was determined to take your insides out with it.

“It hurts!” You cry, holding Jaces hand so hard he has to hide any audible winces in pain, as whilst he is not the most experience man with women, he knew at that moment to not even think about saying his own pain. Not when he could tell his pain was like a mere headache compared to your own.

“It will soon be over!” Jace says, trying to squeeze your hand in an attempt to comfort you and let you know he is here. But with how much pain is flowing through your system he honestly doubts you can feel it right now.

“I just want it out!” You yell, screaming again as the maester intruders you to push. It’s almost like a rhythm, as when the maester tells you to push, you push. And when you push, you scream at the top of your lungs. It’s like that for what feels like hours and hours on end.

Yet soon, it’s finally over, as the maester finally steps away from you holding a crying baby. The maester looks at him, and shows him his crying daughter.

“A daughter my Prince.” The maester says, placing her in Jaces arms. Your husband’s eyes unable to tear away from the smallest child he thinks he’s ever seen. Possibly smaller than Joffrey from when he saw him as a child.

He turns to you to show you with a smile on his face, but that soon disappears when he sees your face.

“My love?” Jace begins, looking worriedly at your pale sweat layered skin. “You do not look well…”

You try to answer, and yet you even with all your strength you cannot even find yourself able to move your lips, your head even.

That though is when Jace turns his own head and sees the frantic moving of all the maesters and ladies in the room. It’s when he hears a most frightening of sounds. The sound of your blood falling and dripping onto the stone floor. It’s almost worse when he sees how deeply stained your dress is by your own blood.

He’s frozen as he stands there, completey horrified by what he’s seeing and hearing and yet he cannot find himself able to move. His daughter still in his arms, only it’s when she begins to fuss and make sound does another lady in waiting take her into her own arms to put her from the room.

The maesters are beginning to yell now. At the ladies in waiting mainly but to each other a handful of times too. They sound too loud. But that may be because Jace hasn’t said a word since you collapsed against a bed. He does not know what it is he should say. He does not know what it is he should do. His mother has insisted he be in the birthing room alone with his wife, and yet here he is standing alone in the middle of it looking like an idiot.

Yet while he’s thinking, it’s like some sort of driven force when he suddenly realises he’s been holding your hand. Your skin feeling cold and damp from sweat, and Jace stays there the entire time holding onto your hand and staring at you face. He commits to memory the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, and the feeling of your heartbeat in his hand. He blocks out the sounds of chaos and panic, and chooses to focus on you.

Jacaerys slowly watches the colour bloom back into your face when the maesters finally manage to stem the flow of your blood and keep it inside you. Yet when he sees you open your eyes sluggish and exhausted, he cannot help but have his heart speed in happiness and joy. The smiles may have to come later though.

"My love, how do you feel?" Jace asks, still clutching your hand as he edges himself closer to you.

"Like l've given birth.." You simply say, even smiling as you slowly turn your head to look around the room. "Where is the babe?"

"She is with one of the ladies in the other room, if you wish me to fetch her I shall." He asks, watching as your eyes widen and your mouth fall open in what he can only say in a comedic fashion. Not that he'd dare mention that here though that is.

"We have a daughter…" You say, so silently that he barely even heard you. "Yes. Yes I want to see her!"

"I will go get the lady." Jace says, letting go of your hand for the first time in hours and admittedly as soon as he escapes your sights wipes the thick layer of sweat lingering on his hand on his shirt.

When he arrives back with his daughter in his arms though, he cannot help but smile as he watches your entire face light up at the sight of the babe with what could only be utter awe.

"We did that..." You say, reaching out and immediately rocking the small girl when she's in your arms. "We made her..."

“Yes…” Jace can’t help but agree with you, placing his hand on you as he sits beside you on the bed, watching you as you hold his and your child closely to your breasts. “We made her…”

#rhaenyra targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #aemond x reader #Aegon Targaryen/reader #aegon targaryen x reader #Rhaenyra targaryen/reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon Targaryen/reader #alicent targaryen #alicent hightower #Alicent Hightower x reader #Alicent Hightower/reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon/reader

655 notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 2 months

Note

I’m letting him smooch my forehead for the nth time if it means I get affection and smooches 🥹🥲 I’m desperate ok?! 🫠 mf I’ve been single for way too long… I need some dopamine…. Also Forehead smooches just hit different

Ugh Baldwin is just so- imagine being mad at him for whatever reason (maybe he was a bit late to come when you called for him because he was busy with court affairs and now he has to deal with a pissed princess who's huffing and puffing because she cant get her time machine to work and out of frustration, she misplaces her anger and takes it out on Baldwin).

He has you trapped against the wall, arms on caging you as you refuse to look at him. Baldwin is trying so hard to supress his smile, because you look even more adorable when youre mad.

"Princess-" he smooches your forehead. "No." You puff your cheeks, brows furrowed as you look to the side, eyes full of anger and distress. Another smooch to you kiss. "Princess, Im sorry-"

"No." You cut him off and he automatically lands another kiss, this time right under your left eye, if only to make you look at him momentarily.

"I'm sorry I was late-"

"You said- no! No more kisses!" You evaded his lips as you glared at him, making him pout. "You said nothing is more important than me. That you'd come anytime I'd call you. I waited for 2 hours! TWO HOURS!"

"I know, my love and Im sorry. The council had some affairs that needed to be dealt with immediately, and time just slipped out of my hand. I promise, it wont happen again." He jutted out his bottom lip (and although anyone else wouldve looked ugly like this, this is Baldwin we're talking about. he's never ugly.) "Forgive me?" His blue eyes held remorse for his mistake, and it didnt help when he brought them even closer when he rested his forehead on yours, making your breath hitch.

"I- uh- fine! Fine! I forgive you!" You finally breathed as your face turned pink, moving it away from him, only for the king to chuckle as he sweetly kissed the apple of your cheeks. "Thank you, princess!"

Ugh. Pretty privelege.

You shot him a glare. "What was so important that the council wouldnt let you leave anyways?"

"Hm? Oh, they wanted to discuss who should be allowed to attend our wedding night."

You stared at him. "What?"

"Well, as per tradition, they wanted to discuss who would be allowed to see us consumate-" he burst into laughter as you threw a book at him. Your face was all red as you began pulling at his blonde hair and was about to beat him when Baldwin suddenly lifted you up and slammed you on your bed, knocking the air out of you as he caught your wrists in one hand while the other tapped your nose.

"As if I would let any see my pretty little prude." He grinned, leaning down to kiss your nose. "You're all mine, princess. All mine."

For the rest of the day, you were too flustered to say a word to him, or even look at him. And so, it never occurred to you to ask him how he convinced the council to make an exemption of this tradition for you.

If you'd asked, Baldwin would've told you that the council wanted confirmation that their monarchs did the deed... to which lover boy replied-

"When you see the queen having to be carried around after our wedding night, you'll know."

#yandere king baldwin #yandere baldwin #yandere x darling #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #baldwin iv

614 notes · View notes

mahgyu · 2 months

Text

JJK MEN reacting to you asking for love advice about someone else to them

๑ featuring: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro and Ryomen Sukuna.

๑ content: Unrequited feelings (they like you in case it wasn't clear from the title), manipulation of feelings in certain parts, light angst. No fluff, I'm back to my era of pain (*evil laugh, the return* )

๑ a/n: Actually, there's nothing to say, I hope you enjoy it

GOJO SATORU

"Well, if he doesn't notice how amazing you are, he's an idiot. But, you know, sometimes idiots need a little push. Maybe you should... show him."

As Satoru sat next to you, the woman he secretly loved, he struggled to maintain a relaxed facade, smiling as he took in your every word. Inside, however, your heart was beating wildly, yearning to be the man you sought advice from. Your every gesture and laugh only intensified his desire to be by your side, as he battled to hide his emotions and waited for you to realize the truth behind his rehearsed words and gestures.

GETO SUGURU

"Ah, you deserve someone who treats you like the queen you are. And if he can't see that, then rest assured he's not worthy of all your effort. But you know, there's someone out there who has always known your worth..."

Suguru, with his captivating smile and persuasive skills, listened attentively to your romantic dilemma, calculating each word in his mind as he weaved his suggestions with subtle persuasion. He highlighted the flaws of the man in question but discreetly praised your qualities, seeking to show his own interest deliberately. Behind his serene expression, Geto calculated every move in the hope that you would see in him not just an advisor but a potential lover, eager for the moment when you would recognize his true worth and choose to share your world with him.

KENTO NANAMI

"My suggestion would be to approach the situation calmly and rationally. Communicate your feelings in a clear and direct manner. After all, communication is the key to any relationship. If he is worthy of you, that will be enough."

While Nanami Kento listened attentively to your venting, he offered practical and direct advice, demonstrating his usual calm and clarity. However, internally, he grappled with his own unexpressed feelings, hiding his deep emotions behind a serious and professional facade. Every word of comfort he offered you was a painful reminder of his own unrequited desires.

Despite the intense internal struggle, Nanami continued to counsel you, keeping silent about his own pain. He wondered if he would ever overcome the fear of ruining your friendship by expressing his own feelings, remaining trapped in a cycle of anguish and doubt.

CHOSO KAMO

"I... know what it's like to feel that way. I think... maybe he just needs a little push to realize how special you are. If I were him, I wouldn't hesitate for a second..."

Choso couldn't hide his emotions, his gaze reflecting internal anguish as he listened to your love story. While offering advice, he was emotionally honest, sharing his thoughts and revealing the weight of his unrequited feelings. Choso saw in the situation an opportunity to perhaps get closer to you and show what he truly felt, longing for a deeper connection and hoping that his honesty would touch your heart, as he prepared to face any challenge to be by your side.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

"You're wasting your time with that idiot. Men like him will only make you suffer. If this guy is too blind to see how amazing you are, then you're better off moving on. But, of course, if you prefer to keep deluding yourself, I'm not the one to stop you. Just don't come crying later when things don't work out."

Toji, with his impatient posture and piercing gaze, doesn't hesitate to launch biting criticisms about the man in question while you vent to him. However, internally, he grapples with his own inability to express his feelings, using his rudeness as a shield to hide his vulnerability. While his sharp tongue continues to push away those around him, Toji yearns for an opportunity to truly connect with you, but fear of failure and rejection keeps him trapped in his role as a solitary tough guy.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

"Ah, so you've come to me seeking advice about that fool? Hmph, he's just another insignificant worm, don't waste your time with someone like him. You know, I'm not one to flatter, but you, you're too good for that piece of shit."

Sukuna, with his ironic smile and malicious eyes, absorbs every word that comes out of your mouth, carefully choosing each piece of advice to weave his manipulation web. His enigmatic words, full of double meanings, cast doubt on the man in question while subtly suggesting that he himself would be a better option for you. He delights in the control he exerts over the situation, using both you and the man as pawns in his power game, relishing the feeling of power it gives him, determined to achieve his own ends at any cost.

792 notes · View notes

certifiedfreec · 3 months

Text

・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・

⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh

⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter

⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)

“Well fuck.”

Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.

One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.

“I call the left side!”

Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-

“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.

“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.

“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.

“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.

After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.

Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”

“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.

Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.

“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”

Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?

The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.

“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”

Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.

You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”

The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”

You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”

Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.

“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”

“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.

“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"

“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.

“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.

You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.

His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”

He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.

Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”

Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.

“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.

“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”

Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?

“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.

——————————————————————————————————-

The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-

“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”

Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.

He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.

“You tired?”

Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.

You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.

“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.

“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.

Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…

No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.

He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.

When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.

“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”

Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.

“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.

You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.

“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.

Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.

Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.

“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.

“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”

“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”

His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”

You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.

Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”

There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.

“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug

“My turn, princess. Coming through!”

The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.

You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.

“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.

You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”

He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.

There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-

“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”

Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?

You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.

“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”

He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-

The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.

“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.

You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.

Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.

“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.

“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.

He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.

In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.

Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.

“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.

“Better?”

You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.

Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.

“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.

“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?” His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.

Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.

“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.

Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.

He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.

Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.

“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.

“N-no one else that’s mattered.”

You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.

He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.

You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.

Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.

“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.

“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”

“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-

“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.

His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.

Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.

He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.

“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”

When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.

“I’m-so-close….”

He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:

“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”

His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.

You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.

“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.

His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.

Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.

“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.

“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.

He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”

You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.

“So, lemme prove it.”

Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.

“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.

“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.

“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.

That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.

“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.

You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.

The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.

“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”

“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.

“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”

His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.

Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.

Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.

Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.

“So…you warm enough now?”

Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.

His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.

You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.

“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”

You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”

Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”

His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.

Turns out, Shoko was right about him.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #mdni #jjk #jjk x you #satoru gojo

592 notes · View notes

lisired · 3 months

Text

honeymoon avenue

pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, a pinch of angst, fluff, stuck in an elevator with your ex-fiancé, exes to lovers, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving)

summary: A year ago, wedding bells were ringing and you were screaming, “Yes!” at the top of your lungs. Last Christmas, you were supposed to be wed under a mistletoe. This Christmas, company finds you in the form of your ex-fiancé that broke off your engagement after you’re both inconveniently trapped in an elevator.

word count: 12.3k (complete opposite of a slow burn)

a/n: inspired by honeymoon avenue and my everything by ariana grande, undo (back to my heart) by tinashe, and ice queen by baekhyun. ‘tis the season! (it was xmas when this was originally posted lol). as always, feedback is appreciated!

Last year around this time, you had arranged to be wed. You recalled restlessly counting down the days until your lover would meet his lips to yours in front of all of your friends and family once granted the greenlight to kiss the bride.

You had everything planned down to a “T.” The banquet hall would be emerald and burgundy. There would be an arch above you where a mistletoe would hang. The wedding cake would have Jaehyun’s surname. And everyone’s attire would be formal, though seasonal.

It was supposed to be the best day of your life.

A winter wonderland wedding seemed like an apt choice for you. You were so, so cold, but there was still an air of warmth to you. Now, your heart was unthawed.

This Christmas - much like the last - you would be alone.

It stung knowing you would be lonely for the second Christmas in a row and there was nobody at fault but yourself. You were miffed at your own behavior, but gave yourself no time to dwell on the past, doing what you knew how to do best - work until your brain went numb.

There was plenty on the roster today. A corporate meeting, phone calls to answer, and reports that wouldn’t type themselves. And that was to be brief. Speaking of which, you needed to brief employees about new protocols.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you chanted impatiently to yourself, tapping your foot against the floor. The elevators in your apartment were running later than usual today.

You heaved a breath of relief when the doors chimed open. Out went a group of people and in went you. Maneuvering your body to press the first floor button, you came to a halt when you noticed it was already selected and gleaming.

That was when you finally noticed the man in the elevator - the only other person there with you - glancing down at his phone. You leaned against the railing and shifted your attention to the door nonchalantly, writing off the stranger as the very least of your concerns. Getting to work on time was paramount.

As it always was.

Morning traffic is going to be brutal, you thought with a grimace. Every thought in your head revolved around work and how long it would take you to get there.

It would seem you would have no time for your morning coffee run. You remembered those times when you’d stay the night at Jaehyun’s, waking to a hot cup of coffee that he’d made just the way you liked it waiting for you.

Four words would permanently be etched into your memory. Have a good life.

With some disdain, you bade the thought retreat. Jaehyun was no longer a part of your life and you doubted he would want to be ever again. Not that you blamed him. It was your punishment alone.

The elevator gave a jolt and you gripped the elevator for dear life, screeching, “What the…?”

The floor indicator donned the number one in a big, bold shade of red, though ironically, the door gave not an inch. Which was odd. You pressed the button that ostensibly opened the door in these types of situations, but to no avail.

“Are we stuck?”

Your head snapped behind you and you nearly broke into a cold sweat when you noticed that the man lone in the elevator with you was no other than your ex-fiancé.

Living in the same apartment complex as the man you were once fated to marry was no easy feat, but the multiple years of seeing each other made it simpler to avoid him. For one, you knew one another’s routines and thus what time to be out the door either before or after the other.

That said, you had seen Jaehyun a couple of weeks ago, but the last time you’d spoken was when he returned all of your things from his apartment. Have a good life. Those were the last words he’d exchanged with you.

That had been approximately a year ago, a couple of weeks before Christmas and the day you were supposed to say, “I do.”

“Appears that way,” you replied, clearing your throat.

Jaehyun had his phone in his pockets now. You held your breath as you gave him a once-over. He was still handsome as ever, though that was to be expected. As far as you were concerned, he looked more or less the same as the last time you’d spoken, only his hair was a little lengthier. He still looked rather displeased to see you.

And he was wearing a suit. Which meant he was most likely also trying to go to work.

You frowned. Now you were thinking about Jaehyun in suits. Needless to say, that was a sore spot.

A voice came over a speaker and you recognized it as Yangyang’s, one of the apartment staff. He spoke like he was reading from a textbook, “Passengers, do not be alarmed. Our technical team will be arriving shortly to repair the service. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

You mused aloud, “Can he hear us?”

“Loud and clear,” Yangyang chirped.

“How long will it be before someone can help us?” you asked, never keen on being late.

“I can’t say, ma’am. Anywhere from fifteen minutes and a couple of hours.”

You interjected to screech, “A couple of hours?”

Jaehyun clamped a soothing palm on your shoulder to calm you down. It was almost embarrassing how effortlessly his touch could ease you even a year after he broke off your engagement.

Yangyang explained in his usual exuberant tone, “The weather and usual early traffic may cause a delay, ma’am. They will be arriving as swiftly as possible and servicing is already underway by our maintenance staff.”

“Thank you, Yangyang,” Jaehyun said, smoothing his palm down your back.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Jung. You too, ma’am.”

You heaved a breath. “So, it looks like we’re going to be here a while.”

“Hopefully not that long,” Jaehyun said, recouping his hand.

Though it stung, you understood. It went without saying that being trapped in an elevator with the ex that abandoned him was not part of today’s plan. He may have called off the engagement, but you were the one that left him high and dry.

You broke his heart. Not only that, you stole his future. Everything he ever dreamed of, a wife and children, was thrown out the window because of your selfishness.

Jaehyun recognized you would both be stuck together for a while and rather than sit in awkward silence, he asked, “How’s life?”

Darn him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the last words he had said to you out of your head. Have a good life.

The breakup was bitter and stone-cold. Jaehyun made a couple of things unmistakably clear with those four words alone. For one, he was cutting you out of his life for good. And he no longer desired to be imprisoned within yours, being punished for no good reason at all.

And you never fought him - never fought to win him over. Maybe because you had already known for some time that your engagement was in danger. It was beyond reclaim. Irrevocably damaged.

Never one to appear weak, you said, “Good. Really good. I was promoted to secretary.”

Jaehyun perked up. You got what you wanted. But did I deserve to be the sacrifice, baby? Was it worth it?

“Still a workaholic I see.”

You frowned. “Old habits die hard. How have you been?”

“I can’t complain,” Jaehyun said. “I wasn’t promoted or anything, but everything’s been pretty good over here.”

You had no doubts. Jaehyun was an editor and his line of work gave him plenty of leeway. For the most part, he worked from home, though there were instances where he came into the workplace. At least, when you last spoke, that is.

“That’s amazing. I’m happy for you,” you said, willing yourself to smile. A part of you was strangely bitter. It didn’t want to see him happy without you.

Though you no longer followed each other, Jaehyun still popped up on your Instagram homepage every now and then. And perhaps you’d searched his page more times than you cared to admit. Everything about his page was achingly sentimental and reminiscent of your past together.

Pictures of him at museums or bridges at nighttime or parks with his hair whipping through the breeze. Once upon a time, you were the one taking those pictures of him. Now, you wondered who was behind the camera, living the life you’d carelessly given away.

“Thanks,” was all he willed himself to reply.

Your eyes instinctively fell to your watch and your head fell back as you groaned, “God, I’m going to be late for work.”

Jaehyun fought a snort. “Yeah, me too. At least there’s still some good news.”

“Like what?”

“It’s warm in here,” Jaehyun commented lightheartedly.

You chuckled. What a way to relieve the tension. Though Jaehyun never failed to make you laugh with ease. Except for when you broke up. Nothing was funny then.

Those weeks leading to the breakup may have been worse than the day it actually happened altogether. The feeling of knowing something was inevitably bound to happen yet being unable to prevent it was arguably worse than the emptiness you felt when Jaehyun announced he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

Emptiness numbed you to the pain for a couple of days. You couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. All you could feel was a bitter, nipping cold enveloping you, eventually splitting you right down the middle.

Jaehyun subtly eyed you as you typed a message to your boss, warning him that you may have been late for work and telling him to proceed without you. Maybe some things never changed. You were still gorgeous, that was for sure. But you were also still married to your work. Ultimately, that would always prove to be your downfall.

It seemed like only yesterday you were his. He was planning to meet you at the altar, itching to sweep you into his arms and kiss you the moment you were pronounced husband and wife.

You had always been a workaholic. At one point, Jaehyun loved it about you. He never thought your relationship would be foredoomed because of it. Devoted and loyal were two terms that described you strongly.

Although, maybe you had been too devoted to the wrong thing.

Your broken engagement was a prime example of what happened when you applied too much pressure to one thing and neglected the other. It was the wretched result of not finding balance.

Everything you ever hoped and dreamed of flashed before your eyes. Once upon a time, you were both making plans to move into a house together. You wanted a pet. And you were thinking about children.

Now, you were all alone. And you had never felt colder.

For some reason, the absurdity of your predicament hit you merely moments after you sent the text message. It just didn’t seem probable to be trapped in an elevator with your ex-fiancé. Much less alone. You threw your head back and whined, “I mean, what are the odds.”

Jaehyun pitched you a confused glance.

You winded a hand through your hair and elaborated, “Us being stuck in the exact same elevator and forcing ourselves to pretend we don’t mind. If I remember correctly, you had no intention of hearing from me again.”

“I think we should spare each other the awkwardness,” Jaehyun replied, donning an impassive expression. And tone.

You bit your lip. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. Jaehyun being kind to you should not have been mistaken and was probably more or less because he wanted to avoid as much tension as possible - not because he didn’t hate you.

Jaehyun spoke up again to ask, “How long have we been here?”

You glanced at your phone and read the time. “About fifteen minutes, I guess.”

“So, we’re going to be here for a couple of hours,” Jaehyun quipped, trying to lighten the mood the best way he knew how.

You winced, hoping there was an in between. “Not like I had anything else to do,” you mumbled.

Jaehyun himself wasn’t exactly bummed about missing a day, or at least a couple of hours. Though this was you. He used to joke that hell would freeze over the moment you decided to actually take a day off. “They will survive without you for a while,” he comforted softly.

You scoffed. You were carrying that company on your back. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. The whole building will be in flames if I’m not there within an hour tops.”

“I’m sure,” Jaehyun scoffed. “I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as you do.”

I have, you thought wistfully. Jaehyun fought harder for your relationship than you ever tried, but enough was enough. He was at his limit, giving more than he was receiving and he couldn’t let you take advantage of him anymore.

Though it was intended to be a compliment, for whatever reason, your heartache was only amplified. You swiftly changed the subject. “So, what are your plans for the holidays?”

He shrugged. “Nothing special. I’m going to spend some time with my family.”

That caught your attention. “You haven’t been seeing anyone?”

Jaehyun only shook his head. He was afraid of opening his mouth and saying something that would make shit awkward again. For all he knew, you two would both be stuck together for potentially the next couple of hours and he did not want to spend it in suffocating silence.

Unfortunately, Jaehyun couldn’t deny that after your engagement was broken off, finding other girls had been hard. They came a dime a dozen, but none of them remained. Even after you were long gone, bits of you lingered, scattered everywhere across his life.

Jaehyun went to bed and thought of nights spent cuddling you to sleep. He visited his favorite cafe and thought of your go-to order. Jaehyun hooked up with other girls and thought of how beautiful you looked writhing underneath him, your voice calling out his name in a cry, dripping with sweet honey.

Though you were forever gone, the memories of you still haunted him everyday. For so long, he had been convinced he was made for you. You were the only woman he ever wanted.

And he couldn’t have you.

Jaehyun commanded the thoughts to go away. You stopped being his long before the breakup. “You?”

“Oh, you know. With my line of work, I just don’t have the time,” you replied bashfully.

That Jaehyun knew all too well. Just a little.

He bobbed his head. “Sounds like you.”

Guilt suddenly plagued your chest. Every second beside him you were reminded of the fact that you were the one who ruined a beautiful thing. You had gotten what you strived for, though in hindsight, the lengths you went to get it were brutal and cold-hearted.

You had sacrificed so much of yourself to get to where you were. And now that you were standing at the top, you could finally see the collateral damage you’d inflicted at the bottom.

There was only a good couple of feet to separate you and Jaehyun. And you absolutely loathed it. There was more distance between you when he uttered those four words permanently etched into your memory, before turning and heading out of your front door.

Jaehyun fancied it no more than you did. Walking away had been hard. He looked back, but never stopped. A year ago, he was convinced that he would have moved on by now. But no matter how far apart you were, his heart was still one of your captives. Not only did he leave a piece of it with you, but the whole damn thing.

He wanted it back. Damn it, he wanted you back. He wanted back every piece of himself he gave you, but above all else, he wanted back what you had. To go back to the way everything was the day he got down on one knee and asked for permission to hold your heart forever.

He remembered like it was yesterday. Earlier that spring, he took you to a bridge. Not only was it one of your favorite spots in the city, but it was where you both first said I love you.

Maybe that was why. Now, you couldn’t bring yourself to visit it anymore. The memories were too painful.

Just like the first time he took you there, night had fallen. The bridge overlooked a river, moonlight cast into the water. Purple lights made the trail glimmer. But the moon was a little fuller, the air a little cooler.

Not that either of you minded. To be with you, he was content.

You were beaming. Even before he proposed. None of you could stop thinking about the night you first said that you loved each other. But when Jaehyun asked you to marry him underneath the moonlight, you were over the moon.

You were chanting, “Yes!” Jaehyun had to sweep you into his arms and meet his lips to yours to cut you off. A very long time ago, the memory made him smile. Now, it made his heart swell with agony.

His eyes were sad. And understandably a little angry. Even after all these years, you could still read him clear as day. You wondered if he could read you, too. You whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun heaved a deep breath. An apology wouldn’t fix his broken heart and saying you were sorry wouldn’t undo the heartache you inflicted on him. It wasn’t okay. He hated you for leaving him lonely. For choosing your job over a future together. He would never forgive you for it. “I never wanted much. I never wanted all of your time. Only a little was all I was asking for.”

“I don’t want to go there with you, Jaehyun,” you said, exhaling a sigh of your own.

All Jaehyun did was shake his head and murmur under his breath, “Classic.”

A part of you bristled. Why Jaehyun always wanted to hash things out with you was a mystery. Fighting was draining and you never had the energy. A long day of work left you with only enough strength to take a long hot shower before crawling into bed.

Not Jaehyun. He would never understand. The pressure to succeed, the struggle to unlearn the definition of success you were taught even before your adolescence.

A year ago, everything was falling apart in your relationship. You were arguing more, spending time together less. Jaehyun was trying to salvage what was left. In his mind, fighting with you was better than not speaking to you at all.

Most of your memories with him were unforgettable, but when they were bad, they were excruciating to think of. You could still remember the last argument before the uncoupling.

December was still fresh and the air was frigid, numbing your senses until you stepped into your warm apartment. Jaehyun was waiting for you there. A smile tugged your lips when you hung your coat and excitedly bounced into the kitchen, smelling hot chocolate.

“Baby, I’m home,” you sang radiantly. At one point, it used to be your favorite line to say. A lifetime of obsessing over movie cliches was to blame.

Jaehyun locked eyes with you and simpered. You looked nothing less than exhausted, though he found it cute on you. “Hey, my love. How was your day?”

You instantly groaned, “I’d rather not talk about it. Or think about it, for that matter.”

“Will a cup of hot cocoa make it better?”

You propped yourself on the island and flirted, “Made by Barista Jaehyun himself? Of course.”

Jaehyun handed you a mug and you accepted it gracious, muttering, “thank you.” He was the sweetest thing you could ask for. Even sweeter than the hot cocoa warming your palms.

That was how the arguments always began. They were sweet, innocent moments - until they weren’t.

Your lover dipped behind the island and returned with a mug of his own, still steaming with freshly hot cocoa. You thought absolutely nothing of it. Not until he opened his mouth. “How does a date night on Friday sound?”

You frowned. “This Friday?”

“Well, yeah,” Jaehyun said, rubbing his nape. “It’s been a while, you know. Since we’ve gone out on a date.”

That was true. Jaehyun always had some extra time to spare. He wanted to spoil and indulge you at every given chance. But you were always busy. Even when you were off the clock, you were still on the clock. And more often than not, you brought work back home with you.

“I’m so busy and so tired, Jay,” you whispered gently. God knew you wanted to, but you didn’t have the time and much less the energy.

“I get that,” Jaehyun started. “But can’t you take even a day off?”

“I’m aiming for a promotion, Jaehyun. I have to prove myself. My boss has been dangling this shit in our faces for the past few months. I can’t let an opportunity like that slip away.”

Jaehyun was rapidly getting frustrated and reminded, “You do realize we’re getting married in a few weeks, right?”

Your eyes flickered. “Yes, I do. And I plan to be there.”

“At the rate you’re going, I wouldn’t be surprised if you stood me up.”

Your heart sank. “How can you say that?”

“How couldn’t I?” Jaehyun snapped, evidently pained. “We’ve been engaged for the past nine months, but it doesn’t feel like I’m about to get married. It feels like I’m losing you because you’re too absorbed in your goddamn job.”

“Are you asking me to choose you over my job?” you asked, standing to your feet. This entire argument was an affront to your pride.

“No. There is no point in giving you an ultimatum when I already know that you will choose your job every time without hesitation - you already do. I’m asking you to make room for me, but I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You countered, “I do want you.”

“Do you?” Jaehyun snapped, skeptical. “You can’t even go on a date with me. You want a promotion more than anything else.”

You sighed, “I don’t want to fight, Jay.”

“I know that. You don’t want to fight for anything,” Jaehyun said bitterly. “You would rather watch us burn to ash than fight for us.”

Anger plagued you and you were prepared to hurl something back, but he didn’t give you the chance.

Jaehyun added, “I don’t like the person this job has made you become. I want the woman I proposed to back, and I’m scared she’s not there anymore.”

Your words were cold as ice, “Then, leave.”

And the rest was history.

There was nothing you could say when Jaehyun left you, no fight for you to give. It was you that sent him away. It was you that made him leave. He had only given you what you asked for.

Old habits died hard. The one-year anniversary of both the breakup and the day you were supposed to be married was rapidly approaching and to distract yourself from the pain, you were burying yourself in work. You didn’t want to think about Jaehyun and what you almost had. Not even for a second. And then, today came and ruined everything.

Now, you were being forced to confront the past.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re stronger than this. God, you wanted to be anywhere but here right now. Tears burned your eyes, but you would never let them fall. Not with Jaehyun there. You didn’t want him to see the mess he’d left of you - how miserable you were without him.

You wanted to mend everything back together, but it was too late. Everything was irreparably broken. You had the opportunity to patch things up, and you passed it up. No more time could be wasted crying for the moon.

And still, somewhere deep inside, you knew Jaehyun would steal it for you.

Jaehyun saw your eyes and softened a little. Damn it, they still made him weak. Your tears were made of diamonds and they were priceless. Jaehyun said, “My mother still talks about you, you know. She asks me when we’re going to get back together.”

Your eyes flickered. “That’s… interesting,” you lied. “I thought she would hate me. And be more protective of her baby.” Because I broke your heart.

“You know my mother always loved you,” Jaehyun chuckled fondly. “I don’t think anyone believed in us more than her - not even ourselves.”

Somebody had to, you thought weakly. Though Jachyun was a romantic to his core, even he had to eventually throw in the towel.

Everyone thought you and Jaehyun would be the perfect match. Each of your families were anticipating a beautiful wintry nuptial ceremony on Christmas day. And when news of the uncoupling broke loose, your people weren't exactly shocked, but they were heavily disappointed.

You were clearly the problem. Until you learned how to balance, you would never be happy in love.

Up until now, you were beginning to become content with that fate.

Though now, your heart was greedy.

Jaehyun’s mother crossed your mind. She was the epitome of an angel and the fact that she still wanted you in her son’s life after all the pain you caused him was deafening. But what about what Jaehyun wanted? Does he even still love me?

Every moment spent with his mother had been wonderful. She spoke fondly of him and vice versa and supported him unconditionally. It was true motherly love and it made your chest stiffen, taut with envy. Ever since you were a kid, you only knew pressure. Your parents wanted you to have the life they didn’t when they were your age, but they were very strict in how they went about it.

Tough love was all you received. They didn’t help you through trying times. You were expected to suck it up. You were taught that tears were a sign of vulnerability and vulnerability was weakness.

You fought them back with everything you had and said, “How does she know I wouldn’t mess things up again?”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun told you, not disputing the fact that you had essentially destroyed everything. It stung, but it was the truth. “She says ‘a mother knows best.’”

Jaehyun watched you struggle to hold yourself together. You were good at pretending to be okay and smiling through your pain, but he was even better at seeing through you. He saw you through a lens that only a man who loved you with his whole mind, body, and soul for years could see. He saw all your weaknesses, all your flaws. But he never judged and he saw something else in them, too. What made you beautiful.

“But what do you want?” It was killing you. For as long as you stood there, you needed to know.

“I wanted you,” Jaehyun replied honestly. “But you wouldn’t let me have you.”

You shook your head. “You had me. Every piece of me - it belonged to you.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Jaehyun muttered. “You had my heart, but your work had yours.”

“That’s not true.”

Jaehyun was firm. “It is and you know it.”

“I loved you,” you told him softly.

“Well, you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

You gripped the railing to anchor yourself. It didn’t move, but you could feel yourself slipping into weakness. “I don’t know how to stop, Jaehyun. I think it’s a part of me now. It’s hard to stop doing something you’ve done your whole life.”

I don’t like the person this job has made you become. I want the woman I proposed to back, and I’m scared she’s not there anymore.

Maybe he was right. Maybe that woman was long gone.

A cloud of melancholy came over you, pouring over you and Jaehyun. He told you somberly, “I could have helped you if you would have let me in. But you were pushing me away.”

“I know,” you said, meeting his dark eyes. “But I wish I would have known back then. I never realized I was breaking us apart. Not until it was too late. I thought I was doing what was best…”

Jaehyun finished darkly, “You were doing what was best for yourself. Not for us.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but quickly accepted he was right and instead said, “I was wrong. I was selfish. I wasn’t considering how any of it made you feel and that’s a decision I have to live with now.”

“Do you regret it?” I need to know if my broken heart was worthwhile.

Your eyes burned. “Every day of my life.”

“Why?” Jaehyun questioned, voice barely above a whisper. “You got the promotion. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I thought it was,” you muttered. Your chest was swelling with self-disgust and agony and anger. Not at Jaehyun, but at yourself. “But when I lost you, I realized that everything I needed was already right there. Until it wasn’t.”

Jaehyun was quiet but pensive. As if he was trying to trace exactly where everything started going wrong.

Even in school, you were devoted. You were the valedictorian of your class. Jaehyun used to steal you away to kiss you behind the bleachers. But you would always be there for his basketball games, cheering him on better than any cheerleader.

High school sweethearts, he thought wistfully. In high school, you won prom king and queen. Everyone thought you would last forever. That only God himself could part you.

How beautiful it was to be young, dumb, and in love.

Jaehyun knew your issues stemmed from your childhood. When you were still in high school, sometimes you had to blow him off to study. He remembered you cancelling hangouts because your parents refused to let you out of their house until you studied until you were cross-eyed. Their house, their rules, was the policy.

But he also remembered those nights when he would hear a knock on his bedroom window and smile when he saw you beaming at him through the glass. One December night, you were crazy enough to sneak out during the nipping cold, shivering and rubbing your arms outside his window.

Though it was many years ago, Jaehyun remembered that night clearly. His mother made you hot cocoa and promised not to tattle. She always had a soft spot for you and held some disdain for your parents. She claimed they worked you too hard.

Everything was so perfect back then. He knew what changed, but he couldn’t understand why. You used to make time for him whenever you could. As the pressures of adulthood caught up to you, it all came to a slow, brutal end.

But why?

Then, leave. Those were the two words he would never forget. They were powerful than the I love you’s - more powerful than the I miss you’s. Your clipped, icy tone, would maybe someday be forgiven, but never forgotten.

A stubborn wound was forevermore slashed on his heart waiting for you to heal it.

You were breaking. Every part of you was crashing down. A familiar ache split your heart right down the middle. “I’ll never forgive myself for throwing away the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me. I didn’t know what I had until it was gone and I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am.”

Your ex-lover was mawkishly nostalgic and sentimental and never said he forgave you, for that would take a while longer, but told you, “I knew I was the second priority in your life after your career. And I was okay with that. Then, it started to feel like I had no place in it at all. I was at the end of my tether, a stranger to the woman I was supposed to marry, and I knew we couldn’t carry on like that, my love.”

My love. That was what Jaehyun always used to call you. Your eyes flickered. “Do you still…?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever completely get over you,” Jaehyun admitted forlornly.

That was when the dam broke. Jaehyun had dismantled you piece by piece and left you vulnerable. You had no strength to fight back the tears rolling down your cheeks.

Jaehyun’s arms, as they always were, were wide open. He pulled you into his warm embrace and let you sob into his chest, smoothing his hand down your back and protecting you from the sharp coldness of your own pain. You were beleaguered to remember the last time you let yourself cry. You let everything pile up until the water pressure became too much.

“Shh. It’s okay. Let it out,” Jaehyun crooned, gently stroking your hair. “You’re not weak.”

There was an ache resurfacing in your body and it was purely unshakable. Your heart was whole, but hollow. Only its pleas to be back with Jaehyun - where it belonged - rang out in the icebound, empty void.

Being in Jaehyun’s arms only made you nostalgic and the pain hit you harder. You thought regretfully of those moments in the past when he would hold you for all to see. And you remembered going to bed and always knowing he was still there, because you would feel his arms still tight around you and smile. Like he wanted to protect you, even while asleep.

You sobbed, “I don’t deserve you.”

Jaehyun gently pushed you back only a little and looked you in your eyes. He wiped your cheeks with his thumb and told you calmly, “You made a mistake. We all do.”

The gesture made you soft and weak. Goddamn it, you were so weak for him. Like your knees would give in any moment now.

“Not like the one I made, though.”

“That’s true,” Jaehyun said. “But do you regret it?”

Your voice wavered, “More than anything.”

“Then, I forgive you.”

You shook your head, not knowing how to accept that. You didn’t deserve forgiveness. You didn’t deserve understanding. But that was the kind of person Jaehyun was.

He deserves someone better than me, you thought somberly. But you wouldn’t know what you would do with yourself if he found that someone.

“You should hate me,” you said softly, voice cracking. “I broke your heart. I broke us.”

Jaehyun shook his head. “You know what my mother always says?”

“It doesn’t only matter if you break something, but if you’re willing to put it back together,” you said, smiling fondly at the memory of his mother. She always treated you like you were her own.

Jaehyun nodded and asked, “Are you willing to put us back together again?”

You mulled it over. There was no doubt that you were willing. Back then, you were too in your head to notice reality. Now, you were blindsided by pain and regret and inclined to do anything to make it stop. “What it I mess up again?”

“Relationships aren’t perfect. People fuck up and people make mistakes. You’re only human,” Jaehyun told you frankly. “I’ll be there to help you clean it up. But don’t let me pull all the weight. We both have to fight together.”

“Okay.” You knew what you wanted now. It wasn’t that job. It wasn’t a promotion. It was the man that had spent half his life loving you, and would still love you for the other half. “I’m willing.”

Jaehyun smiled. A part of him couldn’t fathom how this was happening. The hole in his heart was steadily being sealed. He pulled you back flush against his chest.

The tension in the air seemed to alleviate then. You could finally breathe again. Being in a tight space with the love of your life didn’t feel suffocating anymore, but closer to relief.

You were talking freely again. You missed just being able to have a conversation with Jaehyun, recalling those times when you would discuss anything under the sun. Long nights of talking the moon away knowing full well you had work in the morning hit you. With Jaehyun, the small talk was skipped. You could discuss anything and everything.

There was no worry, no fear. Sometimes, there would be tension, but never the unpleasant kind. Only moments ago, those times seemed like merely a distant memory. Now, there was hope that you had Jaehyun back.

In his arms, you realized that was where you belonged. It was your safe haven in a world filled with danger. Your secrets were safe with Jaehyun and you were free to be vulnerable, because you knew he would never betray you. No matter what happened between you both, whether you were angry or in love, you knew whatever you told each other would forever remain under lock and key.

“Do you remember the arch?” you asked, wistfully recalling what could’ve been. “I wanted a mistletoe up there. For some reason, I couldn’t shake the thought of kissing you underneath it for the first time as your wife.”

Jaehyun chuckled fondly. “I remember. I also remember you wanted John Stamos to marry us because he was your, and I quote, ‘true first love.’”

You nudged his side. “Hey, I would have also accepted Shemar Moore.”

Goddamn it, now Jaehyun was thinking about kissing you. His eyes fell to your pretty lips, still as enticing as they used to be when you were his. Never had he wanted to kiss you so badly. Like it would heal the wounds caused by missing you.

Can I… can I kiss you?” Jaehyun asked.

You said with no hesitation, “You can do whatever you want to me.”

Now that he had your permission, Jaehyun didn’t waste a second to envelop your lips in his. Only then did you realize how much you missed feeling his lips on yours, how much you craved tasting his tongue in your mouth. You had gone so long without, but ironically, he still felt like home. And making out with him felt right as ever.

Jaehyun kissed you so fiercely that he nearly swept you off balance and caught your hips in his arms. Your fingers threaded through his hair, back against the railing. He kissed you to make up with the wasted times he spent with other people. You kissed him to make up for the wasted times you could have spent with each other. To fill the void and patch each other back up.

He taught you what love was. It was letting each other in instead of freezing each other out. It was was building something beautiful together and fighting to protect it instead of letting it all fall apart and into ruins.

Kissing you eased Jaehyun’s heart. His pain was forgotten and he was overwhelmed with his undying love for you. He would never get over you, no matter how hard he tried. A love like the one you had would take more than a lifetime to get over you.

The way you immediately clicked, it was like you knew each other in a past live. Even now, his feelings were unabating. In his next life, it would still be you and only you. Always and forever.

You were so besotted with Jaehyun and the way his lips tasted that neither of you noticed the elevator door opening.

Yangyang cleared his throat. “Um, guys?”

Both of you whipped around, more than a little shocked to see the door open with Yangyang standing in the middle to prevent it from closing on you.

Jaehyun looked at you and asked, “How long have we been in here?”

“Approximately two hours,” Yangyang chirped. “You’re free to go now. By free to go, I mean please exit the lift. As you can see, there’s a bit of a line.”

You looked behind Yangyang and saw a couple of people impatiently waiting to travel upstairs. You lowered your head and flushed. Jaehyun laced his fingers through yours and led you outside of the elevator, smiling like a dumbass. He didn’t care who saw. He couldn’t have been any more happy than he was right now.

“Well, we’re free,” he said once you were both in the clear. Then, he frowned. “But we still have work.”

You winced. “And I wasn’t kidding about the place burning down. I really need to be there. I know how that sounds, but I promise I’ll make it up to you later. Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Jaehyun said, grabbing your wrist and kissing the back of your hand.

Your heart tugged at the gesture. Why’d he have to be so goddamn perfect?

You got on your toes and pressed a brief kiss to his lips, feeling butterflies swimming in your gut. It seemed they had come to visit again. “I’ll see you later, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun told you goodbye and watched you leave. It hurt a little to see you go, but he knew you would come back to him. You always did, even if it took a year and unlikely circumstances.

When you were gone, he turned around and grabbed his phone out of his pockets. He had to tell his mother that maybe she knew best after all.

Night fell. Jaehyun still hadn’t heard from you although you should have been off from work hours ago. A part of him was worried, but he still trusted that you wouldn’t give in to your old habits. It was Friday night. Maybe you were resting and would see him tomorrow.

Jaehyun went into his living room and played some music. The atmosphere reminded him of you. Holding you in his arms and spinning you around. Everywhere he went, he could still hear your voice and laugher ringing in his hair, like the ghost of you was haunting him.

He shook his head. You drove him mad. He accepted that he would never forget you, much less the way it felt to love you.

The doorbell ring and he could barely hear it over his music. Jaehyun didn’t pause it, but went to open his door and was pleasantly surprised to see you standing there.

“What are you doing?” Jaehyun asked.

“I told you I would make it up to you,” you said, breath condensing in the air. You gestured to the pair of grocery bags in your arms.

It was Jaehyun’s natural instinct to take them out of your hands, and turning, he said, “Hurry up and come in. It’s cold outside.”

You didn’t need to be told twice and followed him immediately, shutting the door behind yourself. It was warm and cozy inside his apartment, as always. You hung your coat on the rack and glanced around, memories hitting you tenfold, square in the heart. Everywhere your eyes fell, you saw figures of you and Jaehyun.

Dancing in the living room. Movie night marathons on the couch. And racing down the hallway with your lips on the other’s and your hands desperately trying to remove each other’s clothes as you messily stumbled into the bedroom for a long night of loving.

“I see you’ve already set the mood,” you joked when you noticed the music playing, watching him set the groceries on the counter.

Jaehyun beamed. “I wasn’t even expecting company.”

“Sorry for showing up unannounced.” You smiled coyly, approaching the kitchen. “I’ll make it up to you. And no, you can’t help, Chef.”

“Please?”

You grabbed a gigantic wooden spoon and pointed at him. “Sit your ass down.”

“Jesus. Alright, then,” Jaehyun said, lifting his arms defensively. Ever stubborn were you. The reminder roused a chuckle from him. “Have it your way then, bossy.”

“I will.”

Jaehyun shook his head, still cheesing like an idiot. You were still iron-willed. That part of you would never change.

You cooked dinner in Jaehyun’s apron and he laughed at how big it was on you. The memories were overwhelming now. It seemed that no matter where you were or what you were doing, his mind would always find a way to remind him of your presence.

But the memories didn’t have to be bitter or painful anymore. He wanted to try again. He wanted a fresh start, a chance to repaint the canvas and a clean slate. As long as you were both determined to make things work, Jaehyun had faith in you and him.

“Dinner was amazing,” Jaehyun complimented, throwing your dirty dishes in the sink to be remembered later. He stepped back over to the island and trapped you in his arms.

You peered up at him, cheeks warming. “Thank you.”

Looking into your pretty eyes, Jaehyun couldn’t resist the temptation to kiss you anymore. You made a noise of surprise when he met his lips to yours, caught completely off-guard, but you kissed him back. It would be fighting your instincts not to.

You closed your eyes and let Jaehyun guide you, trusting he would never lead you astray. When he kissed you, he melted away your icebound surface and got under your skin, peeling you back layer by layer. You liked kissing Jaehyun. Way too much. Even now, you could still recall the first time you made out, hiding behind the bleachers on campus yet gigging loud enough for all to hear.

When it came to each other, you both were like moths to the dangerous flames of love. Love would always unite you again. You couldn’t resist those pretty, twinkling sparks of fire. And you couldn’t get enough of the burn.

Jaehyun was confused when you pulled away, but looked into your eyes again and saw a kind of sadness twinkle in them. Your voice was weak, “Why don’t you hate me?”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, baby,” Jaehyun said, finding your hand and squeezing it firmly. “And believe me, I tried. Even if a part of me did hate you, an even bigger part of me will always love you.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were sucking on his tongue again, wet kissing noises tangled in the sound of old school music.

Then, Jaehyun pressed you into the counter, kissing you even rougher. You were riling him up, moaning into his mouth and that noise would never not do it for him. A different kind of fire came over you when you noticed him very impatiently unbuttoning your blouse.

Same old Jaehyun. At heart, he was still the same as the cute boy you fell in love with. You were pleasantly impressed that kissing you alone still got him up.

You broke the kiss again to ask through jagged breath, “Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

“Probably,” Jaehyun replied. Not that he gave a damn. Unless you did, of course. “Do you wanna stop?”

“Jaehyun, I literally have not had sex in over a year. If you don’t fuck my brains out I think I’ll cry.”

Jaehyun chuckled darkly. “That can be arranged.”

You made a noise of surprise when Jaehyun cautiously scooped you into his sturdy arms and lowered you onto the counter. You made out hotly, his hands continuing to quickly unbutton your blouse and yours pulling his shirt above his head.

The sight of his happy trail and toned abs made your core throb. And your mouth water. Your palms involuntarily slicked over them, feeling nothing but hard skin and muscle.

“See something you like?” Jaehyun asked, grinning in the most annoying way possible.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “Still a gym rat, I see.”

Jaehyun bobbed his head. “Yeah. I still hit the gym with Johnny when we have spare time.”

That you knew. Despite the breakup, you and Jaehyun still had a ton of mutual friends, chiefly from high school. You recalled seeing Johnny post one of his gym visits with Jaehyun not too long ago.

And you also vividly remembered the sight of Jaehyun, donning sweats and a blank tank-top. He drove you absolutely feral. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat and his biceps were flexed, showing off his muscle. You would always be a sucker for a burly man that could snap you in half if he so pleased.

Jaehyun expertly removed your bra and tossed it somewhere to be forgotten. He wanted to see your breasts bounce while he pounded you into oblivion. Your skirt followed, but Jaehyun slid your panties to your ankles at a agonizingly slow pace, all the while smiling like an idiot as you gave a needy and impatient whimper.

“You’re already so wet,” Jaehyun murmured, drawing an invisible pair of lines on your bare cunt with his fingers. “Did you miss me that much?”

You whimpered, “Please, Jay.”

Hearing you call out his name like that was all it took for Jaehyun to lose all sense of self-restraint and he spread your thighs apart with tenderness, burying himself between them. You let out a sharp cry, throwing your head back. Some of your best orgasms were the ones when Jaehyun ate you out until you physically could no longer take it and begged for him to stop.

Jaehyun targeted your clit immediately, a testament to the fact that he knew your body intimately. Your thighs clamped around the sides of his head, unaccustomed to the pressure.

He merely clasped your thighs in his palms and held them freestanding, undeterred as he continued to lap at you like with the hunger only a untamed beast could have.

“Fuck,” was all you could say, curses dangling from your lips. You had been touch-starved for over a year and the familiarity of Jaehyun’s touch was overwhelming in the best way possible.

Despite the fact Jaehyun handled you gently, with love and tenderness and nothing but, he ate you out like an animal.

Jaehyun longed for the taste of you, arousal gathering on his tongue. He loved unraveling you like this. You could never stay still, much less quiet when he was going down on you. The sight of you, head angled back and moaning his name nearly made him cum in his pants.

Your fingers clamped locks of his hair and Jaehyun groaned, somehow spurred on by the gesture. You were making noises left to right, feeling yourself nearing your peak in record time. A year of no sex factoring in a skilled partner would absolutely do that to you.

Your lover learned to recognize you at the threshold of release a very long time ago and briefly parted from your pussy, substituting his mouth with his fingers as he sang, “Just let go for me, baby. It’s okay.”

It was clear that your body had every intention of obeying him. Naturally, it submitted to Jaehyun, with no fear and no reluctance. He knew it and it knew him.

“Oh my God. Jaehyun,” you moaned, thighs twitching. Not wanting to hurt him, you clamped your nails into the counter, eyes closed as the pressure threatened to consume you from head to toe.

Jaehyun talked you through it, whispering, “Do it for me, baby. Just let go.”

Not too much longer, orgasm seized you, rendering you weak and defenseless. You had no strength in your body to fight it even if you wanted to, weakened by his touch. Your toes clenched and you cried his name, fingernails scraping the island roughly enough to damage both your nails and the countertop.

Jaehyun didn’t stop eating you out until you went rigid, chest undulating. You looked a hot mess, heaving for breath and your lips parted, easing the airflow.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked when he moved from between your legs, fighting off a smirk at the sight of you completely disheveled.

“Not until you fuck me,” you rasped, still needy in spite of still trying to catch your breath.

Jaehyun snickered and tugged his pants down, underwear soon giving chase. You positively gawked when you saw his bare, thick dick. It never failed to make your mouth water. And your body tremble with release.

You kept your nails at your sides as Jaehyun lined his cock up at your entrance, gently easing himself past your sheath-like walls. He still clasped his hands at your thighs, brows crumpling with concentration. You were still so goddamn tight, clamping around him with a grip almost vice-like.

“Jay,” you whimpered, hands clenching into fists.

“Shh,” Jaehyun whispered, moving his mouth to the side of your face. There was a catch in your breath when you noticed his lips brushing against your ear, breath tickling your nape. “Open up for me, baby.”

The sensation of being filled completely made you feel nothing short of relief. There was a wet noise when Jaehyun’s hips smacked against your own, the last thrust followed by one even deeper. You tried your best to take all of him, wanting to please him even if it was the last thing you did.

Jaehyun slipped out of his own trance briefly enough to mention, “I didn’t wear a condom.”

“Just pull out,” you said, in no state of mind to give a damn. You liked the feeling of him fucking you nice and raw.

“We’re definitely a pair of idiots.”

You snickered and found his hand, slipping your fingers through his. “You’re my idiot and I’m your idiot. That’s all that matters.”

Jaehyun smiled into the crook of your neck, eventually clamping his teeth there to conceal a moan at your expense.

He lifted his head and drew back to admire the entire view, watching his cock disappear between your legs over and over again borderline obsessively. There was something about you that he would never get tired of. He liked holding you close and loving you hard.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Jaehyun exhaled, voice full of sincerity. And raw pleasure.

You were burning up, withering heat blindsiding you. Jaehyun was making short work of you. It felt like love-making rather than plain old fucking, all things considered. Jaehyun’s gentle, steady pace as he whispered sweet little nothings in your ear, old school romance songs faded out in the background all the while.

All you could focus on was Jaehyun. He was all you could hear, all you could feel. You were driven by the feeling of your walls garroting his size, the sounds of the little groans he couldn’t smother into your skin and his affectionate words urging you closer to climax.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” you sighed, tightening your hold around his hand. It was a tiny, sweet gesture. “Please? I wanna hear you.”

Jaehyun obeyed you because there wasn’t a damn thing on this earth he wouldn’t do for you. You owned him and you knew it.

Jaehyun swore when you clamped around his dick even harder. He watched your breasts bounce, your whole body unstill. Even your hands were scrambling, releasing him and now finding purchase in his back. “I love you,” he sighed, kneading your breasts.

“I love you, too,” you moaned, feeling light as ever. He always took you to another dimension whenever you were together, but especially when he was fucking you within an inch of your life.

I love you, too. Jaehyun was beaming. That was the first time he’d heard you say it in over a year and you had no idea how badly he needed to hear it again now.

Jaehyun marked up your neck, leaving a trail of himself like souvenirs for you to remember in his absence. Your pulse thumped rapidly, your heart on the verge of tearing out of your chest, landing into his palms where it belonged. Now, your heartache was - at long last - soothed.

There were no words to aptly describe your affection towards Jaehyun. Your love for him ran to an inexplicably deep extent with seemingly no end. It was all you could think about while he fucked you, how badly you needed him in your life. How the sensations he made you feel were irreplicable and you were content enough to simply be in his arms.

Your lover never lasted very long when fucking you bare and raw and sensing himself approaching climax, Jaehyun brought his fingers to your clit, already swollen from release. A gasp tore from your throat when he fondled with the sensitive bundle of nerves, trying to facilitate an orgasm out of you.

“Jaehyun,” you whined. You reached for his hand, sensitive.

Jaehyun grabbed your hand with his spare one and slipped his fingers through again for you to squeeze. “It’s okay, my love. I want you to cum,” he said gently, biting your sweet spot.

He was making short work of you. Your climax threatened to ensnare you with a force powerful enough to snap you in half. You needed it. More than anything, you needed it.

You hauled your nails over his back, drawing long, red lines across the naked flesh. Jaehyun hissed darkly, pace quickening and coming even harder. You were driving him mad and vice versa. Your body had never been more confused than it was in that moment, barely willing itself to not writhe away but simultaneously matching his thrusts, wanting to build the pleasure yet somehow escape it all at once.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you warned in a impassioned chant, choking on your lack of breath. “I’m…”

Your body quivered, release stealing the rest of your words before you could speak them. You found Jaehyun’s hand again, squeezing it for dear life. The orgasm was so heavy you almost collapsed in on yourself and Jaehyun. You were seeing white, burning red, emitting Jaehyun’s name in a sharp cry.

Jaehyun felt you clenching around his cock with climax and immediately withdrew, knowing he would bust a nut inside you if he stayed a second longer. “Open your mouth,” Jaehyun told you, voice husky, thick with lust.

It was almost enough to break you all over again.

You did as instructed, no hesitation required. Jaehyun fitted his cock inside your mouth, moaning at how warm it was. You took him in, wanting to get him off and taste him dripping down your throat.

When he saw you, cheeks hollowed with his rigid cock in your mouth, Jaehyun nearly came then and there. He fucked your mouth, guttural little praises dangling from his lips.

Your thighs clenched tightly, hot sparks still aflame between. He got you riled up effortlessly, hardly ever needing to try. There was something about him that you were naturally attracted to, an unshakable kind of attraction. You couldn’t fathom why you couldn’t escape him, why your body and heart was seized by your lover.

“So good,” Jaehyun grunted, pace accelerating.

Jaehyun fucked your throat until he came, emptying his balls into your mouth at long last. Eagerly, you swallowed as much as you could, an amalgamation of his release and your saliva dribbling down your chin and onto your naked, heaving breasts.

And the sight positively wrecked him.

“Fuck,” you rasped, still registering what the hell had happened.

Jaehyun’s eyes flashed with alarm. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s just that that’s the best sex I’ve had in a while.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes and quipped, “That’s the only sex you’ve had in a while.”

“Still the best.”

Jaehyun laughed, eyes crinkling. “Round two?”

“God, yes,” you groaned, still feeling unalloyed pleasure burning between your thighs.

Jaehyun scooped your bare body into his arms again and carried you into his room, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips and neck all the while.

You smiled to yourself in the morning when you roused, feeling Jaehyun’s arms still wrapped loosely around your waist.

Everything had shifted then. Though you initially had plans of spending the holidays buried in work, you came to find that Jaehyun’s warm embrace was the greatest gift you could have asked for on Christmas day. There was none of the loneliness and dwelling you dreaded, only making brand new memories with the man you loved with your entire heart, mind and soul.

On Christmas day, you visited his mother’s house where his family had gathered, recognized familiar faces that were surprisingly all too glad to see you again.

When Jaehyun’s mother opened the front door, you greeted bashfully, “Hi, Mrs. Jung.”

“I knew we would meet again,” Mrs. Jung said softly, simpering in a self-satisfied manner. “Come in, dear. You’re always welcome in our home.”

You stepped inside the house, Jaehyun following suit once exchanging a silent, understanding glance with his mother. As always, she was right.

As you glanced around, nostalgia hit you tenfold. Everywhere you looked, there were memories of you and Jaehyun. You could see you both running up the stairs excitedly and Mrs. Jung scolding you about horse-playing indoors. When your eyes fell to the kitchen, you saw yourself joining the Jung’s for dinner, sitting directly beside your lover.

Jaehyun leaned into your ear, given that seasonal music was blaring, and said, “I’m going to have a talk with my brother for a second. Be on your best behavior and don’t try to escape out a window. Old habits die hard.”

You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him. “Go. I’ll be right here,” you said, heart wrenching softly.

Jaehyun snickered and slithered away.

In his place came someone you were very familiar with.

“Nostalgia?”

You whirled around, instantly recognizing the voice as Taeyong’s, one of Jaehyun’s many, many cousins.

“I made a lot of memories here. I’ll never forget any of it,” you replied honestly. “Long time, no see.”

Taeyong bobbed his head in agreement. “Definitely. I was scared that I’d never see you again.”

“Why is that?” Your curiosity was piqued. You never imagined Jaehyun’s family would anticipate meeting you once more. It was the stark opposite of your expectations.

Taeyong leaned closer like he was telling you someone’s deepest, darkest secret, and whispered, “Between you and I, Jaehyun hasn’t been the same since the breakup. Not a happy camper. You were a part of his life for so long that we were all convinced he would never adjust to living one without you again.”

Visioning a morose, heartbroken Jaehyun made you frown. “I did that.”

“You absolutely did. You broke the poor guy’s heart and made him unbearable. He didn’t deserve that. And I didn’t deserve to have to put up with his insufferable ass,” Taeyong scoffed offhandedly, though you knew his words were lighthearted. “But you fixed it.”

“I guess I did that, too,” you exhaled contentedly, turning your head to spot Jaehyun chatting with his brother. That made you beam. Everything had fallen apart, shattered into pieces, but you were both willing to do the work and put them together.

“He’s himself again,” Taeyong said, following your gaze. “Thank you for giving me my favorite cousin back.”

“I should have never taken him away in the first place.”

Taeyong gave you a playful, half-assed attempt at consoling, “Good people do bad things. We all fuck up. Just maybe not as badly as you.”

You nudged his side.

He continued, turning somewhat sober, “He forgives you. But this won’t work out until you also forgive yourself.”

“You’re so young, but so wise,” you whispered, slightly touched.

Taeyong snickered. “It runs in the family,” he said, patting your back before turning away.

You merely stood there, rooted in place. Taeyong had given you something to muse on you. You realized a part of you was still clinging onto guilt, unable to rationalize your own decisions. You were so convinced that you were undeserving of Jaehyun’s love and courtesy that you had forgotten how to move on from your errors.

It would be a process. But a step a day was better than none at all.

You beamed when you noticed Jaehyun approaching you and he returned it, outstretching his hand and asking, “May I steal a dance?”

“Of course,” you said, taking his hand in yours.

Jaehyun brought you from the foyer to the living room where mainly everybody had gathered to dance, spinning you in his arms as holiday music filled the air.

You swept some free strands of hair from his handsome face, admiring the view only a little higher up than you. Even in a room filled to the hilt with people, Jaehyun and Jaehyun alone was all you could see. Everyone else faded. It was only you and your lover, swaying to the rhythm of a seasonal song.

“This feels like senior prom, but Christmas edition,” Jaehyun quipped.

You snickered delightfully. “I remember when we were announced prom king and queen. I like how nobody was surprised.”

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Jaehyun joined you for the first dance, gently whirling you around in front of several prying eyes, but you didn’t care. To you, the room was as good as empty. They were faceless, nameless people with no contribution or value, no relation to you and your blossoming romance with Jaehyun.

It was an experience you never knew you needed back then. Maybe in that moment, you knew it was fate. That one way or another, Jaehyun was inevitably the one you would grow old and gray-haired with.

Even now, as you stared into his pretty brown eyes, you knew that this was the man you wanted a future with.

Jaehyun glanced up and said, “Look.”

You did as told, smiling fondly as you noticed the mistletoe hanging above your heads. A part of you wondered if it was a coincidence or if he chose this spot deliberately. “I remember kissing you in front of everyone,” Jaehyun added, full of mischief.

You played along and hummed, “I’m not sure if I recall. Care to remind me?”

Jaehyun didn’t waste a second to lock lips with you, tasting hot cocoa on your tongue. You could taste gingerbread on his and the thought made you giggle into his mouth. There was something about it - something about Jaehyun - that made every tiny thing mean a billion times more.

All of the whimsical little things made your heart swell with happiness.

“Yo, chill, you horn dogs. There’s children,” scolded Jaehyun’s other cousin Mark, covering his little cousin’s eyes. His family gave you a headache. Every time you learned them all, it was as if another cousin popped out of thin air.

You and Jaehyun pulled away, snickering. You leaned on your toes, giving his lips one final peck before deciding you’d had your fill.

Days of being Jaehyun’s again turned into some of the happiest months of your life. You were letting go of some of your old habits and setting some past trauma free. There were a handful of grim times, but you both made the effort to repair things before they spiraled out of control.

Excuses had run their course. Jaehyun would ask you on dates and you’d agree more, overworking yourself less. Until now, you never realized that putting some distance between yourself and the stresses of work was what it took to be happier. You had made the earth-shattering mistake of convincing yourself that hard work equated happiness.

The two of you agreed to take things slow, afraid rushing would land you in an achingly familiar predicament, but you couldn’t deny that things had been speeding up. And Jaehyun already knew that it would forever be you.

It was another long, brutal day of work and nothing was out of the ordinary. You were running across the office, balancing direct orders on top of your daily tasks. You needed six skins to have a job like this. Three to balance the roles of multiple people and another three to endure the wear and tear.

Ten, your favorite co-worker, tracked you down and stopped you dead in your tracks to say, “Hey, slow down a second. Someone’s here to see you.”

You did the opposite of slowing down, still walking and as he followed you, said, “Tell them I’m taking a sick day, would you? Thanks, Tennie.”

“I don’t think so,” Ten said, donning an amused look. Which successfully made you pause in confusion. Usually, Ten never hesitated to cover for you. “You’re going to want to hear what this guy has to say. I swear.”

Very reluctantly, you agreed to follow Ten, curiosity piqued as you wondered who in the hell would dare interrupt you in the middle of a swift-paced work day.

Jung Jaehyun. That was who.

You made a face of confusion when you saw him there, smiling at you like an idiot. Confused, you asked, “Jay, you couldn’t text or call?”

“What I’m about to do is a bit difficult to do over the phone,” Jaehyun retorted, admiring your state of obliviousness.

You huffed, “What are you…”

You cut yourself off when you noticed one of the staff hand Jaehyun a tiny box and he proceeded to crouch on one knee. The realization made your heart thud, pulse quickening.

Jaehyun started, “Baby, I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of how to say this. I had to have tried to practice this a million times before I decided to talk to you from my heart.”

Your co-workers all gathered around, and you noticed even your boss observing from the corner of your eyes, but your gaze was locked on Jaehyun and no one but.

Your lover fought his nerves and added, “We met when we were in high school. I remember it like it was yesterday. We were so young, dumb, and drunk off learning what true love was for the first time. We couldn’t resist each other.”

The memories made your heart melt, taut with ecstasy.

“Then, we got older. And things got more complicated, but in spite of that, we never stopped loving each other. Not for a second,” Jaehyun declared, impassioned. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine my life any other way. No matter what has changed between us.”

Jaehyun was staring you dead in the eyes, watching your face melt with awe. It gave him all the courage he needed.

“You made it so easy to fall in love with you but so hard to fall back out. And I don’t want to. I adore you, my love. Thoughts of you keep me up and night, restless. You make me crazy.”

Your eyes burned, fighting an oncoming threat of tears with every passing word. Jaehyun had swept you off your feet, making you feel emotions you never knew existed.

“I know we’ve been through thick and thin, baby. But we were there for each other. And even when we separated, we found our way right back into each other’s arms,” your lover added.

You wanted to pinch yourself, determine if you were dreaming. Even though Jaehyun had proposed once to you before, you would never get used to the wave of emotion that plagued you, rendering you soft and full of glee.

“I didn’t know what love was until I fell for you. You’re my first love and all these years by your side have only solidified my courage that I want you to be my last. You are the only woman on this earth I can imagine a future with and if it’s not you, then I know there’s nobody else out there for me.”

Ten was smartly grabbing a box of tissues for safe measure.

Jaehyun’s voice got softer, “Let’s try again, my love. Let’s do this one more time - one last time. Will you marry me?”

Now, you had the spotlight. Ten was none too subtly mouthing, “Say ‘yes.’” Everybody was anticipating your reaction and you wondered exactly how long in advance everyone had been in on this little surprise except for you.

There was no hesitation and you practically screamed as you chanted, “Yes!”

Jaehyun, much like the last time he proposed to you, swept you into his arms and kissed you to death, effectively silencing you. The room erupted in cheer. Everybody was glad to get a break from their tedious jobs and witness a moment as beautiful as this one.

The champagne was already popping. Your fiancé whirled you in your arms and you told him affectionately, “I love you.”

“Say it again,” Jaehyun said, incapable of getting enough.

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Let me love you,” your fiancé said, staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And you were. “That’s all you have to do.”

You smiled, pretending to mull it over. “I think I can let that happen.”

Jaehyun was over the moon. There were no words to describe how ecstatic he was. He missed this feeling and he was more than glad that it had returned. “Merry Christmas,” he said playfully.

“Jaehyun, it is literally the end of February. You wished me Happy Valentines Day after fucking my brains out on your birthday,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Still,” your fiancé said, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips and cheesing at the memory of fucking you raw again. “Marrying you is the best gift I could ever ask for.”

You smiled in agreement. And fought a smirk as you remembered you had your own little surprise for your betrothed, waiting for you at home on the bathroom counter.

Jesus Christ, you were going to need a bigger place to stay.

#jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

668 notes · View notes