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targaryen-dynasty · 4 hours
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THE CURSE OF CURIOSITY.
Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!reader
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"While your brother searches the library of the Dragonkeeper Elder for something new to read, you come in contact with some unlabeled fluid. You both learn that it's something meant to aid in the breeding of dragons, however, it also has a unique effect on humans. But lucky for you, your twin is there to help you through the ordeal."
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, dub con, sex pollen (rather fluid lol), p in v, breeding kink
WORDS: 4 K
NOTES: Hope you enjoy me having literally zero grasp on English. 🤭
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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“It’s far too late for us to be here,” you huff, almost annoyed, as you watch Aemond graze his fingers along the spines of the several books kept in the currently deserted chambers of the Dragonkeeper Elder. “What are we looking for here anyways?”
The room is barely lit by anything else than just a handful of candles. Your twin holds a lantern of some sort in one hand, using it to make out the writings that are carved on the books backs. 
When there doesn’t immediately come an answer from him, you start to slowly walk around the room, inspecting its decor. “I have exhausted the castle’s libraries, and hope to take something of their collection for my own,” he murmurs, carefully selecting two books. 
You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him. Although you’re just a few moments younger than him, sharing the same attributes with your long, silver hair and lilac eyes, you have a much gentler nature than he does, one that doesn’t lend itself to the same mischief you had pursued together as children anymore. 
“And you couldn’t have just taken Floris with you? You ought to wed, and doing something together would do no harm to your future union. One sparsely sees you two around court,” you note, slightly annoyed your brother chose to wake you instead of his betrothed. 
Knowing all too well that just the mention of the betrothal is going to set him off, you choose to play with fire. If your brother wants your company, he’ll have to put up with your teasing. And just like expected, the notion of being forced into a marriage he doesn’t want to be in irritates him, audible in the sigh he releases. His resentment of the situation has become worse over time as he feels more and more suffocated by the ordeal.
“The girl is as dull as stones. Besides,” he replies with a shrug, “she knows nothing about our family’s history, much less about dragons.” The topic of dragons is something your twin is very passionate about, and you know that the fact that his wife-to-be cares so little about his passion infuriates him. It might be one of the main reasons for his dislike of her. “I have no desire to have Floris at my side any more than she does me.”
His annoyance is palpable, but you don’t feel bad about making it worse. For all the hours he has spent teasing, taunting and annoying you while you grew up together, he gets it back twice and three times over. And although he hasn’t spoken it out loud, you know you’re one of the few people he trusts blindly to be himself around. 
“That aside, it would be foolish to read with Floris,” he continues, your silence coaxing him to speak more, “as all she does is gossip with her friends and prattle on about pointless nonsense. You of all people know best how I feel about this match.”
“Floris isn’t so bad, you know,” you defend with a low voice. “And you’ve barely tried to get to know her. Surely you can find at least one thing to like about her. If you did, you might just see she’s not as terrible as you’ve decided.” If you both have to spend your days withering away in marriages sealed by your father and mother, you at least could find a little solace knowing your twin wasn’t as miserable in his. 
Aemond sighs in frustration. “You sound just like mother,” he comments dryly, finally moving to look at you from over his shoulder. “Can you really say that you like her? She is dull and naive. I am certain I couldn’t find anything to like about her even if I had all night. There is nothing for me to like about her. Nothing at all.”
Finding yourself at somewhat of a loss of words at this, you open and close your mouth without any words leaving it. Part of you wants to disagree with your twin, as Floris hasn’t been entirely unpleasant to spend time with at court, which makes Aemond’s dislike for her appear entirely without reason to you. On the other hand, you’ve known your brother long and well enough to know when he is resolute about something. 
“Just promise me that you won’t be a terrible husband to her. Even if you don’t like her, don’t make your lifes awful,” you finally blurt out. 
As you allow your gaze to trail through the chambers once more, you spot some small vessels standing lined up on the desk in the far corner with books and scrolls littered around them. You don’t wait for Aemond to reply as you make your way over, determined to inspect the small containers. The liquid inside of them resembles milk of the poppy, although it’s slightly more permeable to light when you hold it to one of the candles. 
You hardly think about the dangers coming with it when you open the lid to inhale a whiff of the fluid. Not smelling entirely unpleasant, it still has you scrunching your nose as a slight burning grows prominent in your nose and throat. 
Placing the vessel back down rather quickly, it stands too close to the edge of the desk. You’re not quick enough as it falls to the ground with a clatter, the vessel shattering into pieces and the pale liquid spreading across the floor. 
“By the Seven,” you mumble, sinking to the ground to collect some of the larger shards. 
The sound of breaking glass and your sighing is enough to catch your brother's attention again. Where he has read the spines of the books before, he makes his way over to the source of the commodation now. “You shouldn’t have dropped that,” he comments dryly, which prompts you to shoot him a heated glare. “Oh, you don’t say, mh?” you reply, your voice laced with sarcasm. 
Reaching for another shard, you pull your hand back with a hiss when it cuts your finger. “Ouch!” you exclaim and rise to your feet, soon enough spotting the crimson oozing out of the cut. 
Despite his annoyance at your clumsiness, Aemond’s good eye is drawn to the cut you have given yourself. It’s no deep wound, but even the hint of your blood makes something akin to guilt bubble in his stomach. “What were you doing with that?” he inquires, as he takes your hand to inspect your finger, nodding towards the vessels still standing on the desk. 
You watch him twist and turn your hand to have the perfect look of the wound, the stinging pain suddenly not too bad with his warm skin on yours. “I… I just wanted to see what they keep here. It is unusual for anyone other than the maesters to store unmarked liquids,” you reply, hissing as Aemond pinches the cut finger a tad too tightly. “I shall see Maester Mellos. Mayhaps this needs stitching.”
“That’s an excellent idea.”
Aemond fetches the books he has chosen from the collection, holding them under his arm as he brings the other to you to place a hand to the small of your back, guiding you out of the Dragonpit. 
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On your request, the cut on your finger is stitched by Maester Mellos, although he has voiced that it wasn’t quite necessary. But something tells you the opposite, especially when you catch him staring at your face and checking your temperature more than once. “Is everything alright, maester?” you ask him with a soft voice, a yawn following. 
Aemond towers over the both of you, carefully watching each move of the needle in the elder’s hands, just waiting for him to make a wrong move that’s meant to hurt you – he’s familiar with being stitched up after all. 
The maester seems to be out of his mind, and only reacts as he hears you say his name. “Maester Mellos?” 
His eyes are wide, but he nods quickly. “Yes… yes, princess. The wound should be able to heal calmly now.” 
He is quick to pack his utensils up again, and even faster to leave your chambers at once. And while Aemond hurries after the old man, trying to catch up on him outside of your chambers, you don’t wait for any of them to return again with sleep coming over you.
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The crackling of the fireplace is the only thing audible when you stir awake, a sheen of sweat covering your skin, making your nightgown cling to it uncomfortably. Your body feels as though it’s on fire when you squirm from one side to the other, not finding back to sleep. A tingling spreads in your loins, and each time your thighs squeeze together, it surges up your spine. 
“Gods be good,” you whine, utterly bewildered with the feeling of liquid fire coursing through your veins. 
Aemond not so silently rises from one of the chairs close to the fireplace, and comes closer to the bed, though, careful not to startle or frighten you as you regain your bearings. He has hoped you’d sleep through the entire ordeal and wake up as if nothing has happened, but that hope slowly dissipates with each passing moment. 
“How are you feeling?” your twin asks, concern in his voice. Suddenly, hearing his voice allures you, and doesn’t diminish the burning at the apex of your legs. 
As you clench your thighs together again, it releases some of the tension your body holds, and makes you whine in despair. “Aemond…” you pant, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths. “What are you doing here?”
The thin sheets covering your body do little to conceal what is happening beneath, and your brother just assumes it’s your way of trying to suppress your bodily urges ignited by the pale liquid you came in contact with before. 
“I…” his usual confidence and boldness completely deserts him at the state you’re in, and he can barely find the words to tell you what he’s been told by Maester Mellos. 
As he watches you writhe and writhe about on the bed, he’s unsure of how much longer he can just stand there and do nothing. But his concern and love for you cause him to make the decision to act, approaching you and reaching out to grasp your hands. 
At the contact, the feeling of his warm hands fully engulfing yours, it’s like something overcomes your mind and body, luring you in to move, staring up at him with wide eyes as you sit on your haunches. “Dohaeragon nyke… kostilus,” you whimper, strands of your silver hair clinging to the damp sides of your face. “Ziry ōdrikagon.. sīr bāne. Nyke sepār – dohaeragon nyke, lēkia.” Yet you don’t quite know what exactly you’re begging for. Help me… please. It hurts… so hot. I just – help me, brother. 
In the dim light of the candles, you spot his eye widening as you shift and squirm, looking up at him in such a vulnerable state with your innocent eyes, pleading for him to help you through your ordeal although you have no idea of what’s wrong with you right now. He can’t help but notice how your hair clings to your skin, seeming as if you’ve just bathed, and that your movements seem to contribute to its dampness. 
“Mellos has told me what the fluid is that the Elder keeps in his chambers,” he states, trying to stay calm and not let your state affect him too much. 
But with his proximity, all effort of you to process what he’s saying is fruitless. You pull on his hands, as if you want to encourage him to join you in bed, and when he doesn’t budge, you rise on your knees, and start to fidget with the buttons of his coat – solely driven by your urges. “And that is?” you mumble, not really listening.  
His cheeks run hot when you start to undo the buttons, and his hands capture yours once again to put a stop to it, making you pout. With furrowed brows, his grip finally has you looking up at him. “It’s something used to aid in breeding the dragons,” Aemond states. “He told me it’s also used to increase their stamina and to make them more…” he trails off, his body slowly growing tense as the implication of what he’s going to say settles into his mind. “... receptive to breeding.”
“Mh–Mh,” you hum almost nonchalantly, and watch completely mesmerized as your fingers graze along his, the warmth and softness of his skin only intensifying the tingling in your loins. Aemond is hesitant, unsure whether or not what you’re doing is entirely due to the potion’s effect, or if there is genuinely some desire for him on your part. 
You lick your lips and free your hands from Aemond’s to shrug the opened coat off his shoulders. The fabric of his tunic is pinched between your fingers as you tug on it once again to beg for him to join you. With him taking his sweet time, you find yourself clenching your thighs every now and then to soothe the aching burning at the apex of them.
“He also informed me that ‘tis necessary for someone to… help you through it,” he murmurs quietly, his voice almost sounding shaky as he speaks, “... for it will burn you from the inside out if not.”
Even though you’re fully acting on your body's desires, you do notice the way his widened eye trails down to your thighs, lingering there for a moment before it returns to yours. 
You don’t give a verbal response to his words, and instead, your only reactions are subtle ones. Nodding your head slowly, as if you’ve understood what he is implying, your hands squeeze his tunic further into his chest. He can practically see your body tensing with each movement of your fingers, almost as if you’re trying to hold back. 
With your eyes firmly locked with his now, you slowly trail your hands beneath his tunic, pushing it up to remove that as well from his body to get further access to him – if it wasn’t for him not raising his arms. 
Exhaling a deep breath, you sit back on your haunches. His reluctance does little to quell the fire raging within you, no, it only fuels to make you even more desperate. The lacey hem of your nightgown rides up your thighs as you spread them, and fully exposes your undergarments the moment you bring your hand between your legs. A breathy whimper falls past your lips as your fingers finally make contact with your clothed cunt, and then something akin to mischief flickers in your lilac eyes. 
“And… will you help me, brother? Or shall I ask Jacaerys for help instead? We ought to wed in a moon's turn after all,” your voice is honeyed as you speak, dripping with feigned innocence. “But you don’t want that, do you? That’s why you’ve stayed.”
You spot the exact moment his breath hitches in his throat. He suddenly feels a wave of heat overcoming him, your words triggering something in him that is more than just the usual desire to protect his younger sister, something primal. You sound and look so vulnerable asking for his help, secretly begging for him and him only. 
Intertwining your fingers with his, the intensity of your grip increasing as your senses become more heightened, your twin finally moves as you pull him onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as you watch him come closer, and when he is close enough, you reach and pull him down onto you in a quick motion. You don’t waste a second more and lock your lips with his, your hand slowly traveling down his back. But before you can grab his tunic and pull it over his head, Aemond pushes you back to lie flatly on the bed, pinning your wrists above your head. His eye burns with hunger as he gazes down at you, visible even in the dim light, and it makes you yearn for more. 
“Well, if I chose to leave you here to your own devices, would you crawl to your betrothed for help? I do not think so,” he says, his voice taking over a mocking tone. “No, in fact, I’m certain you would come to my chambers instead.”
When he doesn’t touch you, you try to wrap your legs around his body to grind yourself against him, but Aemond is quick to catch your hip with one hand, keeping your body still as it's pinned to the mattress.
“Sir, dohaeragon nyke,” you beg, voice shaky enough it comes close to a whimper. But when you notice that speaking in the tongue of your ancestors is not having any effect on him at all, you choose to coax him to tend to you in the Common Tongue. “Touch me, Aemond. Help me… please.” Now, help me.
Aemond is silent for a moment, visibly dragging his eye over your squirming frame. One hand still holds your wrists above your head, while the other slowly but surely releases your hip. “I shall take care of you,” he reassures you. “But you will have to let me, do you understand?”
You gaze up at him with wide eyes and slowly nod your head, only for you to pounce on him the moment your wrists are released. The tunic is gone as soon as your body collides with his, causing a strained gasp to leave your twin’s lips. While just the thoughts of his warm skin on yours have incite your mind already, seeing his bare chest sets your body alight. 
His demeanor changes in the blink of an eye, and he has never treated you as roughly as he does when he pushes you off of him. It leaves you dumbfounded for a moment, more so when he moves between your parted legs, towering over you. 
“Look how dull this fluid has made you,” he mocks, the condescending tone of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. Aemond notices that you’re not shying away from him, no, you keen at that. “Just because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”
“If I help you,” he warns, “no one else, let alone that bastard of a nephew, is ever allowed to touch you again, do you understand?”
It might be the liquid-induced state, or the despair to have him do anything to you already, but you’re far too eager to nod at his words. 
Aemond’s hand wanders below the hem of your nightgown to heartily fist your undergarments and peel them off of you. He can already feel that the linen is soaked with your arousal, but still can’t stop himself from licking his lips as he sees your now exposed cunt glistening in the light of the candles. 
“Now, we do not want you to suffer any longer, hm?” he asks. 
And you nod once again. “Gods, yes, please. I need you, Aemond.”
You don’t have to beg him any longer. He undoes the laces in the front of his breeches and pulls out his throbbing cock, painfully hard and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s slightly curved and thick, and if you have to guess, you’d say that you need both hands to pleasure him, and even then there’d still be a bit of him that would be left abandoned. 
Aemond wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance, pushing into you as you both moan in unison. You don’t expect him to set up a merciless pace almost immediately upon fully bottoming out, but you’re not disappointed either. 
While you’ve been able to talk before, he’s quickly reduced you to a whimpering and whining mess, relishing in the delicious burning of accommodating his sheer size. 
“Does it help?” your twin asks through gritted teeth, desperately trying to keep his sounds of pleasure at bay. But you’ve been fucked into a stupor by him already, not even able to keep your eyes open. “Mh-mh,” you hum. 
Putting some of his weight onto you, Aemond’s hand finds your throat like the most treasured necklace you only take off to sleep, taking up the entirety of your neck and leaving no room for you to shift even the slightest. 
It was subtle at first, but the merciless pace slowly changes into something more determined, his hips rolling with each thrust as if he wants to make sure the tip of his cock really brushes your sweet spot every time. He’s seemingly spurred on by the way you’ve lost all inhibitions, not that the fluid allowed you to have any in the first place, and the wanton moans that spill past your lips. 
One of your hands grabs his wrist, keeping his hand around your throat, while the other finds solace on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. Your nails dig into his alabaster skin, and you’re sure that crescent shaped marks will bloom there not long after, staking your claim on him. 
“But you need more,” Aemond grunts, and you can’t do more than whimper a pathetic string of yesses. “The only thing that will truly help you is for me to fill you up with my seed, to breed you.”
Your head tips back in plain bliss, and you’re not sparing one thought to the possible repercussions of him putting a child in you. If anything, there is something buried deeply inside of you that has waited for this moment. You have waited for this moment. You grew up thinking you’d marry your twin one day, only for the rising tensions inside of the family to force you to marry your nephew instead as the final straw to mend the chasm. 
Aemond’s stamina doesn’t seem to be able to handle the way your body reacts to him and his words – not when a renewed wave of your arousal drips from your cunt at the mere thought of you carrying his child. It’s running thin, ready to burst at any given moment, hence he brings a deft finger to your pearl, rubbing it with frantic movements that should bring you to peak just in time with him. 
The pressure brought to your pearl has your body squirming, not anticipating it and the shiver of pleasure that comes with it. You arch your back and moan, yet a tight squeeze of your throat is enough to bring your attention back to him.
“Do you want that?” he pants, dark blown eyes fixed with yours. “Want me to put a babe in you?” It might be his way to ask for your reassurance, and while your body’s reaction should be enough with your walls clenching around him so tightly, he stills wants to hear your voice. 
Your cheeks grow hot as his words finally seem to settle in your hazed mind, a whiny ‘yes’ slipping past your lips. “Fill me up, Aemond… please. I want it,” you all but beg, your voice croaked with him squeezing your throat. 
The confession flips a switch inside of you that allows you to let go, your body shattering beneath Aemond with a pathetic whine. He relishes in the way your walls flutter and spasm all over him, utterly mesmerized as relief etches itself into your features. 
With a groan, the first wanton sound of pleasure you’ve heard of him, Aemond spends himself inside of you. He connects your lips in a heated kiss that has you swallowing down each grunt and groan he unleashes. Working you both through the blissful highs, his hips only stop once he’s sure he’s fucked his seed as deep as possible, determined to put a child in you. 
Aemond topples over into the vacant space next to you, his breeches soaked with your arousal and his chest heaving with his breaths. 
The sudden loss of friction makes you whine at first, but is quickly overshadowed by the feeling of relief. “Thank you,” you whisper through heavy breaths, turning your head to look at him. 
“I won’t leave now,” he says softly, although there is a linger of mischief in his voice. “I would be remiss not to aid my sister in her hour of utmost desperation… so, I shall stay the night just to make sure you really get through it.”
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Aemond Taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel @thekinslayed @baizzhu @legitalicat
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sequinsmile-x · 3 days
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Bezel
He couldn't fix or change her past, but he could give her this.
-x-
Hi friends,
As we all know, I have a very famous lack of control. The lovely @eyesontheskyline posted a gif set and made a comment about Emily's giant watch in 2x20, my mind went haywire and once again here we are.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this - please let me know what you think <3
-x-
Words: 3.5k
Warnings: Mentions/references to loss of a parent
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Emily sighs contently as she takes a sip of her beer, the coolness of it removing any last bits of tension in her shoulders that the case they’d resolved had created.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
She turns her head to look at Aaron and smiles as their eyes meet, his eyes soft in a way they rarely were outside of either of their homes or the hotel rooms they shared. There was something strangely empowering about him looking at her like that in front of their friends and it warms her from the inside out. She nods and reaches for his hand that is slung over her shoulders, linking their fingers together as she leans in to kiss him, the taste of the scotch he was drinking passing from his lips to hers. She smiles into the kiss when she hears the others groan, making a point of deepening it for a moment before she pulls away, squeezing his hand tightly as she leans in further to his side. 
“Okay, we get it, you guys are adorable,” Dave says dryly, a fond glint in his eyes as they both turn to look at him, “I think I preferred it when you two were pretending not to like each other.” 
“I didn’t,” Penelope says, her glee at seeing them together obvious, her entire body practically vibrating with it. Her gaze drifts to Emily’s bare wrist and her smile drops, the corners of her lips turning downwards into a slight pout, “Sorry about your watch, Peaches.” 
Emily looks at her wrist, her bare skin peeking out from underneath the sleeve of her shirt. Her watch had been damaged during the takedown of the unsub, the glass face of it smashed against the wall as he tried to evade arrest and shoved her out of his way. She’d cried out when it happened, more in shock at being pushed than anything else, her worst injury a slight graze of her palm against the brick wall, but it had been enough for Aaron to overreact. Her usually reserved and stoic boyfriend had briefly forgotten where they were and gone out of his way to make sure she was okay, barrelling into the room she was in as if he’d heard a gunshot, accidentally revealing their relationship to the team as he checked her over for injuries that didn’t exist. 
It was why she’d allowed herself to get dragged into going for drinks with the team when all she wanted to really do was snuggle up with Aaron in his bed or hers. The news had travelled fast and Penelope had called her before the unsub was even in the back of a cop car, demanding they all went out when they landed back in DC because she wanted to see them.  Aaron had been hesitant, his embarrassment at overreacting clear, but Emily had talked him into it. Her smile and a promise of later enough to convince him a few drinks with their friends was a good thing. 
They’d told them what they wanted to hear, answering their friend's questions in a way that still allowed them to keep their privacy. Emily felt a certain sense of pride blooming in her chest when they told them they’d been together 8 weeks without anyone noticing, although Dave claimed to have known the entire time. Even though Emily knew they would both miss their relationship just being for them, she liked sharing it with the people she cared about. It made it feel impossibly more real - the three words she hadn’t said outloud yet, the three he hadn’t said either, on the tip of her tongue. 
“Oh, that’s okay,” she says, smiling as her gaze drifts to where her hand is linked with Aaron’s for a second before she looks back up at her friends, “It wasn’t expensive. I have plenty of others” 
“Are you talking you expensive, or regular person expensive, Princess?” Derek asks, hiding a grin behind his beer, “Because those are two different things.” 
She laughs humourlessly as she makes a point of rolling her eyes. She makes eye contact with Penelope again and sighs when she sees that she still seems worried, a crease between her brows that lets Emily know her friend is still thinking about the smashed watch in her go-bag. 
“I mean it, Pen,” she assures her, “It’s just a watch, it’s not like held any great sentimental value.” 
There’s something about the way she says it that makes Aaron pause, his brows furrowing for just a second as he looks down at her, a smile still fixed on her face as she carries on talking to Penelope. Emily had always been very purposeful with everything she’d ever said. She’d been taught at an early age that words mattered, that everything had weight to it. She was never calculated, but she never said anything she didn’t mean, so it makes him curious and leaves him wondering if she meant that she did have a watch that held sentimental value. He files it away for later, sure that whatever it was it was something she wouldn’t want to share with the team. 
When they get back to his apartment, it’s late. They shower together, their laughter and muffled groans lost under the roar of the water, neither one of them wanting to wake Jack up by mistake. By the time they climb into bed, Emily is tired, her body relaxed and sated as she crawls half on top of him, her eyes already closed as she relaxes into his embrace. He hauls her closer and smiles as she giggles, a sound she’d deny if he ever brought it up, her hand fisted in his t-shirt as she anchors herself to him. 
“Can I ask you something?” He asks, his lips against her forehead as he trails his hand up and down her back. She hums as she settles further into his embrace, her arm over his waist and her leg over his hips. 
“Always,” she murmurs, turning her head just enough to kiss his chest, “But make it quick, the combination of the beer and your magic touch is sending me to sleep.”
Aaron chuckles and kisses her forehead, taking a moment to breathe her in before he asks the question he’d been thinking of since they were in the bar, “Earlier, you said the watch you broke today wasn’t sentimental. Does that mean you have one that is?” 
A part of her wonders if she should be annoyed that he noticed, that he was so good at his job it bled into their personal lives, but she can’t bring herself to be. Instead, she realises she wants to tell him, that she wants to reveal another part of herself to him simply because he’d asked.
“Do you remember that big watch I had?” She asks, her gaze locked on the wall of his bedroom, “It had a leather strap, the face of it was wider than my wrist.” 
He nods before realising she isn’t looking at him, “I remember.” 
“It was my dad’s watch. When he died…” she clears her throat and presses her lips together, giving herself a moment before she carries on, “My mom gave it to me. I kept it and one day I couldn’t find my watch so I wore it to work,” she lifts her head to look up at him, her hands on his chest as she rests her chin on them, “It was huge on me. Big and impractical and so obviously not made for me,” she chuckles, “But it made me feel weirdly close to him. Which probably sounds insane.” 
“It doesn’t,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, smiling encouragingly at her as she leans into the touch, “It doesn’t sound insane at all,” he assures her and her response is to turn her head to kiss his palm, “What happened to it?”
He’d picked up on how she was talking about it in the past tense, had seen the wistful look in her eyes as she thought about the watch. She smiles sadly and slips one of her hands into his, pressing their palms together to test the size difference. 
There was something comforting about how big he was in comparison to her, something about it that made her feel safe. She didn’t need him to protect her, didn’t need him to hold her together, but she wanted him to. She wanted to share things with him that she’d never shared with anyone because she knew nothing would scare him off. He’d seen the very worst of her and he was still here, he still wanted to know more. 
“It was sold with everything else when I died,” she says carefully, making sure to link their fingers together as she says it, hoping the way she squeezes his hand lets him know she doesn’t blame him, his guilt for making that decision for her still lingering every time it was mentioned, “I was surprised Mother didn’t take it - she was the one who got it for him. But…she had all my things sold,” she smiles sadly, a shaky breath slipping past her lips as she thinks about it. About how her mother had all but wiped any memory of her from the face of the earth. She knew it was likely a defence mechanism, a way of dealing with the fact her only child was dead, but Emily liked to think if it had been her she’d have made a different decision. 
Aaron drags her in for a quick kiss, his hand on her cheek as he encourages her closer to him, unable to bear to not kiss her any longer, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You deserved better than that.” 
She smiles and kisses him, letting her lips linger against his for a moment longer than necessary as she tries to convince herself that he’s right, drawing the comfort from him that only he had ever truly been able to provide. 
“I never understood their relationship. They loved each other, just not in the way I ever wanted to love someone,” she says, looking down at his chest again, at the random patterns she was drawing on his shirt as she willfully ignores the fact they hadn’t told each other how they felt yet. The words unspoken but felt in everything they did for each other, a gentle kind of love they both thought was beyond them, “Mom got Dad the watch for his 40th birthday. It had this engraving on the back of it - See You in Paris,” she smiles sadly as she sighs, “It was their favourite place. It’s where I always remember them being at their happiest.” 
“Paris?” 
She laughs, an edge of bitterness to it as she nods, “Yeah, Paris,” she says, her eyebrow raised as she looks at him, “The universe has a sense of humour apparently.”  
There’s so much he wants to say, an apology he knows she won’t accept trapped in his chest as he stares at her, but in the end he settles on kissing her, pulling back just enough to speak as he rests his forehead against hers.
“Thank you for telling me.” 
She smiles, familiar love for him burning in her chest, desperately trying to escape as she presses her lips together to hold it in place, still worried it was too soon to say anything. 
“Thank you for asking,” she replies quietly, kissing him once more before she rests her head on his chest, sighing contentedly as he wraps his arms around her. He immediately re-starts running his hand up and down her back, the warmth of him drawing her in, making her feel heavy and light in equal measure, “Goodnight, honey.” 
He hides a smile in her hairline as she yawns and he kisses her forehead, “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 
He lays there as she falls asleep against him, an idea forming in his mind before he joins her, his grip on her never loosening.
___
Aaron pauses outside Penelope’s office, his hand frozen in place as he hesitates to knock, wondering if he is making the right decision. Before he can talk himself out of it the door swings open and Penelope shrieks, her eyes wide as she places her hand on her chest. 
“Sir, sorry,” she says, clearing her throat before she steps back to let him into her office, “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” 
“That’s okay,” he says as he closes the door behind him, “I wanted to ask you something-”
“If this is about the checks I did on Henry’s school, I was only checking if-”
“No, it’s not about…” he frowns as he trails off, raising his eyebrow at her, “Should it be about that?” 
She shakes her head, “No definitely not,” she says, taking a seat at her desk, “How can I help?” 
He sighs, scratching the back of his head, hesitancy he doesn’t like washing over him, “If I ask you to look for something for me, can it just be between us?” 
Penelope’s eyes go wide, the idea of being in on a secret exciting her, “Of course,” she says, before she gasps, her eyes somehow even wider, “Is this Emily related?” 
He hides a groan as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “Yes.” 
Penelope covers her mouth, physically holding her excitement in as she shifts closer to him on her chair, “Oh my god, are you going to propose?” She asks, and he glares at her, his stern gaze forcing her to calm down, “Okay, no proposal…yet,” she says, “How can I help?” 
“When Emily…” he clears his throat, “When she died all of the things in her estate were sold on in an auction. Do you think you could track one of those things down for me?” 
He sees the flash of pain across her face, how she struggles to push it away before she nods, “Just tell me what you need bossman, and I’ll find it.” 
He smiles gratefully at her and pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket, all of the details about the watch written down on it, “And remember-”
“Not a word of this to Peaches or anyone else,” she says as she takes the piece of paper from him, a sense of determination overtaking her as she turns back to her computer, and he knows this is one secret Penelope Garcia will keep.
___
“Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” Emily asks, smiling as Aaron meets her eyes from  where he’s standing. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, giving her a delicious hint of his forearms, the muscles shifting under his skin from where he’s washing dishes. 
“I’m all done, sweetheart,” he says, reaching for a dish towel and drying off his hands, “Do you need more wine?”
She shakes her head and grumbles, “What I need is my boyfriend to come over here and make out with me.” 
He chuckles and nods, pulling one of the drawers in his kitchen open, blowing out a quick breath before he lifts the large jewellery box out from where he’d hidden it under a towel. The search for the watch had been a little tricker than he’d hoped. In the last couple of weeks, he’d almost given up hope, and at times he’d only been bolstered by Penelope’s seemingly unending optimism that she’d find it. When she did she’d called him, her excitement so loud Emily had heard her from his phone while standing on the other side of the room. He’d brushed off her curiosity and was grateful when she didn’t ask any further questions. The nerves he’d felt when he first thought of doing this for her return in full throttle as he walks over to the couch, a piece of her history gripped firmly in his hand. 
“Before we get to that,” he says, sitting next to her, holding the box out so she can see it, “I got you something.” 
She hums curiously and sits up straight, placing her glass of wine down before she takes the box from him, “I haven’t forgotten our 10-week anniversary or something have I?” 
He chuckles and shakes his head, his hand heavy and warm on her thigh, “Is that a thing?” 
She shrugs, “If it is, I owe you a blow…” she drifts off, her joke dying in her throat as she opens the box, her mouth hanging open as he looks at the watch. She chokes on a laugh as she looks between him and the watch, words escaping her for a moment as she shakes her head, the conversation they’d had a couple of weeks ago coming back to her, “They don’t even make this model anymore.” 
Aaron squeezes her thigh as he watches her run her finger over the bezel, her touch delicate as if she’d damage the steel, “It’s not a duplicate sweetheart,” he says gently, his smile soft as she looks up at him, her eyes shining, “It’s your dad’s.” 
She frowns as she pulls the watch out of the box and turns it over, her breath catching in her chest as she looks at the engraving on the back, as if she hadn’t quite believed him until she saw it. 
See You In Paris
She presses her thumb into it, and feels the dips and curves of the metal, a habit she’d picked up when her mother first gave it to her. One of the few ways she felt close to her father after she lost him. She looks up at Aaron, her vision blurry as tears push at the back of her eyes. 
“Aaron…” she breathes out, his name caught on a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, “How did you find this?” 
He shrugs as if it’s nothing, as if he hasn’t just given her back a piece of herself she thought was lost, “I asked Garcia to help,” he says, smiling when her eyes get wider, “She found the guy who bought it and I bought it back from him.” 
She holds the watch tightly as if it would disappear and presses it against her chest. She closes her eyes and blows out a shaky breath. She places her other hand over her mouth, her fingers pressed against her lips as she tries to gather herself, her nerves shot at the unexpected kindness and love he’d shown her. 
He watches her carefully, his eyes fixed on her face as she sits perfectly still, the watch grasped against her chest and her eyes screwed shut. Anxiety bubbles in his gut and he squeezes her leg, “Sweetheart, if this was a bad idea-”
“I love you,” she says, her eyes flying open as she cuts over him. Tears splash down onto her cheeks as she laughs and shakes her head. She looks at the watch and then back at him, her spare hand cupping his cheek as she drags him into a kiss, “This is…this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me. And I love you so much.” 
He smiles and hugs her close, her hand with the watch still clasped in it pressed in between them. He kisses her temple and then her cheek before he tilts her head up to kiss him.
“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her again, “I love you.” 
She laughs, the sound wet as it sticks in her throat, and he wipes some tears from her cheeks, “Thank you,” she says, the words not feeling anywhere close to enough as she rests her forehead against his, “This is…” she blows out a shaky breath, “Thank you.” 
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I can’t give you the 7 months you lost back,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “And I can’t undo anything you’ve been through,” he wraps his hand around the one holding the watch, “But I can do this.” 
She shakes her head at him and rests her cheek on his shoulder, “I love you,” she says again, the words she’d been afraid of saying for weeks suddenly the only thing she could say, slipping past her lips with ease now she’d said them. 
“I love you too,” he repeats, running his hand up and down her back. She sinks into his embrace, her eyes closed as she breathes him in.
“I can’t believe Pen didn’t let it slip,” she says as she pulls back, wiping her cheeks, “She’s terrible with secrets.” 
He laughs loudly, the sound reverberating around them and he nods, “Well, I think I won’t be so lucky if I get her to help me propose when the time comes.”
She presses her lips together to stop her smile from getting any wider, the thought of marrying him, even this early on in their relationship, not scaring her as she knows it would with anyone else, “I think she might surprise you.” 
When they get married 18 months later, Aaron wears her father’s watch, the weight of it against his wrist feeling like a promise as he watches Emily walk towards him. 
-x-
I think I might have to add 'watch' to the list of inanimate objects I've made emotional thanks to these two...
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gojonegs · 2 days
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Eternal Promise: A Tale of Love and Loss.
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synopsis: In the enchanting world of 'Eternal Promise: A Tale of Love and Loss,' Y/N, a spirited sorcerer, shares a deep and joyful bond with Satoru, her beloved partner. Together, they navigate life's ups and downs with laughter and love, their shared dreams weaving a tapestry of hope for the future. But it all changes quickly when tragedy strikes, shattering their idyllic existence and plunging them into a world of grief and despair. Through the lens of their once vibrant relationship, 'Eternal Promise explores the transformative power of love in the face of life's most devastating challenges.
wc: 4.8k
warning: fluff to angst to fluff! Happy ending anyway enjoy.
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In the bustling halls of Jujutsu High School, amidst the chaos of students and teachers bustling about, Satoru Gojo and I shared a quiet moment together, our fingers intertwined as we sat on a bench in the courtyard.
The warm afternoon sun cast dappled shadows through the trees, creating a serene atmosphere that enveloped us in a cocoon of tranquility. It was a rare moment of peace amidst our hectic lives as Jujutsu sorcerers, and we savored every precious second of it.
Satoru's eyes gleamed mischievously as he glanced at me, a playful grin spreading across his face. "You know, Y/N, they say love is like jujutsu: unpredictable, powerful, and sometimes it makes you want to scream into the void."
I chuckled softly, leaning my head against his shoulder. "You've definitely mastered the art of charming metaphors, Satoru," I replied, my voice tinged with amusement.
Satoru's grin widened, his gaze softening as he looked at me. "Only because I have the most inspiring muse," he said, his tone sincere.
I felt my cheeks flush at his words, a warm fluttering sensation spreading through my chest. "You always know just what to say, don't you?" I said, unable to hide the affection in my voice.
Satoru shrugged casually, but I could see the hint of pride in his eyes. "What can I say? It's a gift," he quipped, earning a playful shove from me.
As we sat together, lost in the comfort of each other's presence, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. In that moment, it was just Satoru and me, two souls intertwined in a bond that defied all logic and reason.
And as we sat there, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as I had Satoru by my side, I could face anything with courage and grace.
We remained there for what felt like an eternity, content to simply be in each other's company, our fingers laced together as if nothing else in the world mattered. The sounds of the bustling school faded into the background, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the soft whispers of the breeze.
With each passing moment, I found myself falling deeper and deeper into the warmth of Satoru's presence, his easy laughter and infectious charm wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. Despite the blindfold covering his eyes, he exuded an aura of confidence and assurance, as if he could see right through to the depths of my soul.
And as I gazed into the darkness behind his blindfold, I knew that he felt the same way, his unwavering gaze filled with an unspoken affection that spoke volumes more than words ever could. In that shared moment of understanding, we were no longer just two sorcerers bound by duty and destiny; we were partners, confidants, and soulmates.
But even as the outside world continued to spin around us, threatening to intrude upon our sanctuary of peace, we held onto that moment with all our might, unwilling to let it slip away. In each other's arms, we found solace, strength, and a love that transcended time and space.
Eventually, the sounds of approaching footsteps shattered the stillness of our reverie, signaling the end of our moment of respite. With a shared sigh, we reluctantly pulled away from each other, knowing that duty called and we had to answer.
But as we rose to our feet, ready to face whatever challenges awaited us, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, as long as I had Satoru by my side, I could conquer them all with unwavering determination and unwavering love.
As we reluctantly rose to our feet, a familiar voice called out to us from across the courtyard. It was Principal Yaga, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the bustling students as he approached.
"Y/N, may I have a word with you?" he asked, his tone serious.
I exchanged a quick glance with Satoru before nodding and following Principal Yaga to a quieter corner of the courtyard.
"What's going on, Principal Yaga?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the growing sense of unease in my stomach.
Principal Yaga sighed heavily, his expression grave. "I've just received word from headquarters. It seems there's been a sighting of a Special Grade curse in the area, and it's causing quite a bit of havoc," he explained.
My heart skipped a beat at the mention of a special grade curse. They were the most dangerous of adversaries, and facing one alone would be a daunting task.
"I'm afraid I have no choice but to assign you to this mission, Y/N," Principal Yaga continued, his voice tinged with regret. "I know it won't be easy, but I trust that you're more than capable of handling it."
I nodded, a sense of determination burning within me. "I won't let you down, Principal Yaga. I'll do whatever it takes to protect the people," I said, my voice echoing with resolve.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Principal Yaga stepped aside, allowing me to make my preparations for the mission ahead. As I walked away, the weight of my impending task hung heavy in the air, but with each step, I knew that I had to face this challenge head-on, for the sake of those who relied on me.
As I returned to where Satoru was waiting, his expression immediately shifted to one of concern. "What did Principal Yaga want?" he asked, his tone laced with worry.
Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, trying to convey a sense of determination. "There's been a sighting of a Special Grade curse," I began, bracing myself for his reaction. "And Principal Yaga wants me to handle it alone."
Satoru's eyes widened in disbelief, and I could see the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "Alone? Why would he send you on such a dangerous mission by yourself?" He demanded, his voice rising with frustration.
I reached out to lay a hand on his arm, trying to calm his growing agitation. "I know it sounds risky, Satoru, but I believe I can handle it," I said, my voice steady despite the nerves churning in my stomach.
Satoru shook his head, his expression conflicted. "But what if something goes wrong? What if you need backup?" he argued, his concern for me shining through.
I squeezed his arm gently, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve. "I've trained for this, Satoru. I know the risks, but I also know my abilities," I said, trying to reassure him. "And I promise, if I need help, I'll call for backup. But for now, I need to do this on my own."
Reluctantly, Satoru nodded, his grip tightening around my hand. "Just promise me you'll be careful, Y/N," he said, his voice soft with concern.
I smiled gratefully, grateful for his understanding. "I will, Satoru. I promise," I replied, before turning to make my preparations for the mission ahead.
As I walked away, I couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence, knowing that Satoru believed in me. And as I set off alone to confront the looming threat, I knew that, with his unwavering support, I could face whatever challenges awaited me with courage and determination.
As I ventured forth alone to confront the Special Grade curse, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at the edges of my mind. Nevertheless, I pressed on, determined to prove to myself and to Satoru that I was capable of handling the mission.
Upon arriving at the location indicated by Principal Yaga, I found myself facing a seemingly straightforward encounter with a curse. It was a Grade 1 curse, far weaker than what I had anticipated, and I dispatched it with relative ease, my confidence growing with each passing moment.
However, as the dust settled and I prepared to return to the school, a sudden realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. The Grade 1 curse had been nothing more than a distraction—a decoy designed to lure me away while the true threat remained hidden.
My heart raced as I frantically scanned my surroundings, searching for any signs of the real Special Grade curse. And then I saw him, standing before me with a sinister grin, his presence radiating malevolence.
It was Mahito, the cursed spirit that Nanami and Yuji had warned us about. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, my blood running cold as I faced one of the most dangerous adversaries imaginable.
As Mahito and I faced off, the tension in the air was palpable, each of us poised for battle. With a flick of my wrist, I summoned forth my blood technique, crimson tendrils snaking through the air like serpents, ready to strike.
Mahito's grin widened, a glint of anticipation in his eyes as he prepared to unleash his own curse technique. "Impressive, little sorcerer," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "But let's see if you can handle this."
With a wave of his hand, Mahito sent a wave of dark energy hurtling towards me, the sheer force of it threatening to knock me off balance. I gritted my teeth, channeling my energy into a protective barrier as I braced myself for the impact.
The clash of our techniques sent shockwaves rippling through the air, each one vying for dominance in the chaotic battleground. As the dust settled, I could feel the strain of the battle weighing heavily on me, but I refused to back down.
"Is that the best you've got, Mahito?" I taunted, my voice filled with determination. "I expected more from the likes of you."
Mahito's grin faltered, replaced by a scowl of annoyance. "You dare to mock me, human?" he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I'll make you regret those words."
With renewed determination, Mahito launched himself at me, his movements fluid and unpredictable. I met his attack head-on, countering with a flurry of strikes from my blood technique.
The clash of our powers echoed through the air, a symphony of chaos and destruction as we battled for supremacy. With each exchange, I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, fueling my every move.
But even as the fight raged on, a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of my mind. Mahito was a formidable opponent, his powers twisting and distorting reality itself. I knew that defeating him would require every ounce of strength and cunning I possessed.
And as the battle reached its climax, with neither of us willing to give ground, I knew that victory was within reach. With one final surge of determination, I unleashed a devastating blow, channeling all of my energy into a single, decisive strike.
But as the dust settled and I prepared to claim my victory, I realized with a sinking feeling in my chest that Mahito was nowhere to be found. He had slipped away in the chaos of battle, leaving behind only a sense of frustration and the lingering echoes of our fierce confrontation.
With a heavy sigh, I knew that our battle was far from over. Mahito may have escaped this time, but I would not rest until I had defeated him once and for all, proving to myself and to Satoru that I was more than capable of facing even the most formidable of foes.
As the dust settled and I prepared to claim victory, a sense of relief washed over me. I had fought Mahito to a standstill, and it seemed that he had finally been defeated. Or so I thought.
With trembling hands, I wiped the sweat from my brow, my heart still pounding in my chest from the intensity of the battle. But as I scanned the area, searching for any sign of Mahito's presence, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.
There was no sign of him. No lingering trace of his cursed energy. It was as if he had simply vanished into thin air.
A sense of unease crept over me as I realized the truth. Mahito had slipped away once again, leaving me battered and bruised, but no closer to victory than before.
Just as I turned to leave, a sudden surge of darkness enveloped me from behind, knocking me off balance and sending me sprawling to the ground.
With a gasp of surprise, I turned to face my attacker, only to find Mahito standing over me, a malicious grin on his face. "Did you really think it would be that easy, little sorcerer?" he taunted, his voice dripping with scorn.
My heart raced as I realized my mistake. Mahito had used my momentary distraction to launch a surprise attack from behind, catching me off guard.
But even as the realization sank in, a surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins, fueling my determination to fight on. With every ounce of strength I possessed, I launched myself at Mahito, unleashing a flurry of blows with all the skill and precision I could muster.
The battle that followed was fierce and unforgiving, the odds stacked against me as Mahito unleashed his full fury upon me with relentless ferocity. But I refused to give up, drawing strength from the memory of Satoru's unwavering belief in me.
As the battle reached its climax, I could feel my energy waning, my muscles burning with exhaustion. But still, I pressed on, refusing to back down in the face of adversity.
And then, in a moment of perfect clarity, I saw my opportunity. With a burst of speed and determination, I unleashed a devastating combination of spells, each one aimed with deadly accuracy. Mahito staggered under the onslaught, his defenses faltering for the briefest of moments.
With one final surge of strength, I launched myself at Mahito, delivering a decisive blow that sent him sprawling to the ground.
As I stood over him, panting heavily and covered in sweat, a sense of triumph washed over me. I had defeated Mahito, proving to myself and to Satoru that I was more than capable of facing even the most formidable of foes.
But as I prepared to claim victory, a sudden surge of darkness enveloped me once again, and before I could react, Mahito was standing over me, his grin wider than ever.
"Nice try, little sorcerer," he sneered, his voice filled with malice. "But this battle is far from over."
With a sinking feeling in my chest, I realized that I had been deceived. Mahito had lured me into a false sense of security, allowing me to believe that I had won when, in reality, he had been biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
As darkness closed in around me, I knew that the true battle was only just beginning. And with Mahito as my relentless adversary, the road ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty. But I refused to give up hope. With Satoru by my side, I knew that together, we could overcome even the most daunting of challenges.
As darkness closed in around me, memories of happier times flooded my mind, a bittersweet reminder of the moments I cherished most with Satoru.
I remembered the way his laughter echoed through the halls of the school, infectious and full of life. How his easy smile could chase away even the darkest of clouds, filling me with warmth and joy.
I recalled the countless hours we spent training together, his patient guidance and unwavering support pushing me to be the best sorcerer I could be. How his encouraging words never failed to lift my spirits, even in the face of adversity.
And then there were the quiet moments, just the two of us, lost in our own little world. The stolen glances and shy smiles, the whispered conversations that spoke volumes more than words ever could.
As I lay there, battered and broken, these memories became my lifeline, a source of strength and comfort in the darkness. They reminded me of the love and support I had received from Satoru, and the promise of a brighter tomorrow, even in the face of despair.
But just as quickly as they came, the memories faded, replaced once again by the harsh reality of the present. Mahito stood before me, his malicious grin a stark reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond reach.
With a heavy heart, I prepared to face my fate, knowing that I had fought with all the courage and determination I possessed. But even as darkness closed in around me, I held onto the hope that somewhere, somehow, Satoru was watching over me, ready to guide me home once more.
As darkness closed in around me, and Mahito's menacing presence loomed over me, a wave of despair washed over my soul. In that moment of uncertainty and fear, my thoughts turned to Satoru, the one person who had always been my guiding light in the darkest of times.
But as I struggled against the suffocating grip of darkness, a bitter realization swept over me like a cold, merciless wave. The memories of our time together—the laughter, the joy, the love—it all felt like a distant dream, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.
And in that moment, I knew with a heavy heart that I would not be guided back home to Satoru. The future we had imagined together, filled with hope and promise, now seemed nothing more than a cruel fantasy.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I faced the harsh reality of my fate, alone and powerless against the darkness that threatened to consume me. The thought of never seeing Satoru again, never feeling his comforting presence by my side, filled me with a profound sense of loss and sorrow.
But even as despair threatened to overwhelm me, a small glimmer of hope flickered deep within my soul. For in the depths of darkness, there was still a spark of light, a reminder of the love and strength that had sustained me through the darkest of times.
With one final, trembling breath, I whispered a silent prayer to the heavens, a plea for salvation, for redemption, for a chance to be reunited with the one I loved more than life itself.
But as the darkness closed in around me, swallowing me whole, I couldn't help but wonder if my plea would ever be answered. And as I slipped into oblivion, I clung to the memory of Satoru, my beacon of light in the endless sea of darkness, hoping against hope that someday, somehow, we would be together again.
"You thought you could stand against me?" Mahito's voice dripped with disdain, his eyes gleaming with malevolence. "You're nothing but a weak, pathetic human. It's almost laughable how easily you've been defeated."
His words cut through me like a knife, each syllable laden with cruelty and malice. I gritted my teeth, refusing to let his taunts break my spirit, but deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling of hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm me.
As Mahito loomed over me, his grin widening with satisfaction, I knew that the battle was lost. In that moment of despair, I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the inevitable. But even as darkness closed in around me, I clung to the faint glimmer of hope that still burned within me, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still a chance for redemption.
As Mahito's cruel words pierced through me like daggers, a profound sense of doubt and self-doubt enveloped my thoughts, shrouding them in a suffocating darkness. Was he right? Was I truly nothing more than a weak, insignificant human, destined to be crushed beneath the heel of those more powerful than me?
Questions plagued my mind relentlessly, each one more unsettling than the last, echoing in the depths of my consciousness like a haunting melody. What was the purpose of my existence, if not to be a pawn in the cruel game of cursed spirits and sorcerers? Did I even have a place in this world, or was I merely a fleeting shadow, destined to fade into obscurity?
With every passing moment, the weight of my doubts grew heavier, threatening to crush me beneath their oppressive burden. Was there any meaning to my struggles, any purpose to my suffering? The thought of continuing to fight in a world that seemed determined to crush me at every turn felt like an insurmountable challenge.
I questioned my worth, my abilities, my very essence. Was there anything about me that was truly worthy of recognition, of respect, of love? Or was I destined to remain forever in the shadows, a forgotten soul lost amidst the chaos and turmoil of the world?
As Mahito's mocking laughter echoed in the darkness, I felt myself slipping further into the abyss of doubt and self-loathing. And in that moment of utter despair, I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps I would have been better off never existing at all.
The existential crisis that consumed me threatened to drown out any flicker of hope or resilience that remained within me. I felt adrift in a sea of uncertainty, unable to find solid ground upon which to anchor myself.
And as I grappled with these existential questions, I found no solace, no answers to ease the torment of my thoughts. Instead, I was left with only a profound sense of emptiness, a void that threatened to consume me from within, leaving nothing but darkness in its wake.
As I lay there, consumed by doubt and despair, Mahito's cruel laughter reverberated through the darkness, mocking my suffering. With a malicious gleam in his eyes, he raised his hand, preparing to deliver the final blow that would seal my fate.
I braced myself for the inevitable, resigned to my fate as his helpless victim. But even as fear gripped my heart, a small voice whispered within me, urging me to fight on, to cling to whatever shreds of hope remained.
With every fiber of my being, I summoned the strength to push back against the suffocating darkness, determined to defy Mahito until my last breath. But it was futile. I was no match for his overwhelming power and cruelty.
And then, with a flash of darkness, Mahito's hand descended, striking me with a force that sent shockwaves of pain coursing through my body. Agony engulfed me as I cried out in anguish, the world around me fading into oblivion.
In that moment of agony and despair, I knew that I had been defeated. Mahito had triumphed, his cruelty and malice snuffing out whatever flicker of hope remained within me.
As consciousness slipped away, I was left with only the haunting echoes of Mahito's laughter, a chilling reminder of the darkness that had consumed me. And in the end, as darkness closed in around me, I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps oblivion was the only escape from the torment of my existence.
As darkness enveloped me and Mahito's final blow struck, pain surged through every fiber of my being, threatening to consume me whole. In that moment of agony, memories of happier times flooded my mind, a fleeting reprieve from the darkness that surrounded me.
I thought of Satoru, his laughter and warmth wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. I remembered the promise he had made to me, whispered in moments of quiet intimacy when the world seemed to stand still. The promise to marry me, to spend eternity by my side, bound together by love and devotion.
In the depths of despair, I clung to that promise, holding onto it with all the strength I had left. And as consciousness slipped away, I found solace in the thought of Satoru waiting for me on the other side, his smile a beacon of light in the endless darkness.
In my final moments, as I took my last breath, I whispered his name, a prayer on my lips as I surrendered to the void. And in that moment, I felt a sense of peace wash over me—a fleeting glimpse of happiness amidst the pain and suffering.
Even in death, I knew that Satoru would be with me, his love guiding me through the darkness and into the light. And as I slipped away into the unknown, I held onto the hope that somewhere, somehow, we would be reunited once more, bound together for eternity by the promise of a love that transcended even death itself.
As Yaga delivered the devastating news of Y/N's demise, a wave of anguish washed over Satoru, threatening to engulf him in a tempest of grief and despair. The words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a dagger to his heart as he struggled to comprehend the magnitude of his loss.
"No, it can't be," Satoru whispered hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper as he grappled with the reality of Y/N's death. His hands clenched into fists, trembling with suppressed emotion as he fought to hold back the flood of anguish threatening to consume him.
But as the truth of Y/N's fate sank in, Satoru's grief gave way to a burning rage unlike anything he had ever known. His eyes blazed with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality, and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"How could this happen?" He roared, his voice raw with pain and fury. The sound echoed through the halls of the school, reverberating with a primal intensity that sent shivers down the spines of all who heard it. "She was supposed to be safe! I promised to protect her, and now she's gone!"
Every fiber of Satoru's being screamed out in anguish, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He felt as if he were drowning in a sea of despair, unable to find solid ground upon which to anchor himself.
In that moment of unbridled fury and anguish, Satoru's resolve hardened into steel. He would not rest until he had avenged Y/N's death, until he had hunted down every last cursed spirit responsible for her demise.
With a primal roar of anguish, Satoru unleashed his fury upon the world; his grief transformed into a tempest of righteous fury. His screams echoed through the night, a symphony of pain and rage that pierced the darkness with their intensity.
And as he set off into the night, his heart burning with a vengeful fire, he vowed to stop at nothing to bring justice to those who had dared to take Y/N from him. In that moment of unspeakable loss, Satoru swore an oath that would echo through the ages, a promise to avenge the one he loved with every fiber of his being.
As Satoru stood before Y/N's casket, his heart heavy with grief, a sense of numbness washed over him, dulling the pain of his loss to a dull ache. The funeral procession had been a blur of tears and mournful whispers, but now, as he faced the reality of Y/N's passing, the full weight of his sorrow crashed down upon him like a tidal wave.
With trembling hands, Satoru reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around the small velvet box that held the ring he had intended to propose to Y/N with. The ring, a symbol of their love and commitment to each other, felt heavy in his grasp, a reminder of the future they had planned together, now cruelly snatched away.
As he gazed down at Y/N's peaceful face, a sob caught in his throat, threatening to choke him with its intensity. He couldn't bear to say goodbye, couldn't bear to let go of the one person who had meant everything to him.
But as he looked into Y/N's serene expression, a sense of calm washed over him, a whispered reassurance that she was at peace. With tears streaming down his cheeks, Satoru opened the velvet box, revealing the gleaming ring nestled within.
With trembling hands, he carefully slipped the ring onto Y/N's finger, a silent promise of eternal love and devotion. It felt like a bittersweet farewell, a final gesture of affection to the one he had loved more than life itself.
As he stood there, lost in his grief, a sense of closure washed over him, a whisper of acceptance in the depths of his sorrow. Y/N may have been taken from him far too soon, but her memory would live on in his heart forever, a beacon of light in the darkness that surrounded him.
With one last lingering glance at Y/N's peaceful face, Satoru bowed his head in silent prayer, offering a final farewell to the love of his life. And as he turned to leave, a sense of peace settled over him, a whispered reassurance that even in death, their love would endure for all eternity.
————————————————————————
Upsi, I fooled you! Nah, to be honest, it also hurt me, but I had to get through it. 
Do not copy or translate; just don’t do anything with it. Reblogs are appreciated. hihi
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tender-rosiey · 5 months
Note
hiii 😭 I REALLY LOVE UR GOJO X YN SO MUCHHH 😔😔 I was also wondering like maybe what if y/n has a wound, like any where 🥲 it could be either on her back, arms, legs but she doesn't wanna tell gojo abt it and she hides it, then he will find out about it either she winces when gojo hugs her, starts wearing long sleeved clothes or her shirt lifts up while sleeping 🤧 TYSMM❤❤
strain — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: I am honored that you like my works, love! hope you enjoy this as well 🫶💕🫶 also happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend: gojo satoru!! (it’s still his birthday in my country so hush I am not late)
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you are more than a capable sorcerer. in fact, you are one of the strongest in the field.
however, like anyone else, there are some moments where things get a little out of hand, and you come back bearing a rather long slash on your left arm.
but since it’s pretty late, you decided you will bother shoko about it in the morning. that is how you’re finally in your home, with satoru nowhere to be found.
you frown lightly at the fact that he is still out there fighting curses, but a part of you feels relieved that you don’t have to explain your situation right now.
the night should pass by smoothly, and you will go to shoko tomorrow: a fool-proof plan!
so you do what you can to sanitize the wound, and cover it until you can get it treated properly. you also take the chance to indulge in your favorite snack as a good job treat.
after finishing your food and tidying up for the day, you’re finally in bed, all-cozied up and avoiding anything touching your wound as much as possible.
a deep breathe in, a deep breathe out, and you slowly drift to sleep.
not much time passes before satoru’s familiar footsteps echo throughout the house.
your husband has an abundance of energy.
but it seemed like today’s missions have drained him a bit more than normal, so he skips eating anything and heads straight to your shared bedroom.
his heart softens, and his muscles relax upon the sight of you tucked in bed. he walks to press a small kiss on your forehead, quickly changing into his pajamas and settling right by your side.
he stretches a bit and turns to spoon you as per usual, eyes closing in contentment.
but you wince, even if adeptly, and it sends alarms ringing through his head.
he jerks up, and his hand is instantly placed on your arm again, softly. there is an ever so faint change in your expression as your eyebrows furrow, and he has never pulled his hand away so fast.
he keeps debating in his head whether to wake you up or not, but he swiftly settles for the former.
he needs to know what happened. so he, regrettably, nudges your sleepy form, “y/n?”
you groan, but, nonetheless, you reply, “…what?”
while satoru often likes to base theatrics around his every move and phrase, but he also knows when to get straight to the point, “did you get hurt on today’s mission?”
you’re no longer half-asleep, and you quickly sit up, eyeing your husband. knowing there is no escape nor denial, you fidget with your fingers and nod slowly.
then you hurriedly utter, “but I was going to see shoko first thing in the morning; I promise!”
he nods slowly, holding your hands in his own. you’re left to look him in the eyes. satoru’s eyes being exposed makes him feel so vulnerable, or at least that’s how he is with you.
you can see every wrinkle, and every crease; you can see what he is thinking about in real time. he has long given up hiding anything from you, and, besides, it feels fresh to just let go.
but right now, as you look into his eyes, you see them swarming with confliction, pain, and worry.
he doesn’t scold you about not going right now because he knows that you will tell him that you either thought it wasn’t a big deal or that you didn’t want to bother shoko with it.
instead, he settles on a hushed whisper of “can I see it?”
you throw him a confused look, “why? I am getting it treated tomorrow anyway,” then you smile, “it’s not going to permanent if that’s what you’re worried about.”
he shakes his head, “it’s not that; I just—“ he takes a deep breath then looks at you pleadingly, “just let me see it.”
perhaps it’s to silence his thoughts and to show him that you’re truly okay, as okay as you can be.
you’re still alive, and that’s what matters, he thinks. nevertheless, he feels the need to see just how serious is the wound anyway.
reluctantly, you slowly take off your jacket to reveal the poorly bandaged gash on your arm.
he looks up at you, asking for permission because even if he needs to see it for his own selfish reasons, he has to put you above anything and everything else.
you nod, giving the free reign to slowly take off the bandages. you can barely hold back any pained noises, but you can’t help the wincing of your body.
satoru’s frown deepens, and with every move, your husband’s heart aches. it goes like that until the wound is finally unveiled.
you feel satoru observing the cut so intently that you look away. satoru curses everything that he can think of, and never has we wanted the ability to heal others more than right now.
he straightens his back, “that’s a deep cut, y’know.”
“I know…”
“you also realize that the wound could’ve hit your chest and inevitably heart, right?”
you huff, “listen, if you’re going to give me a lecture or keep making me feel bad about it then I will have you know—“
“you could’ve died.”
you notice the strain in his voice, so you turn to finally look eyes with him. he looks pained, so hurt, maybe even terrified at the fact that there was a chance that he could’ve lost you.
your expression immediately becomes that of sympathy, “but I didn’t, and dwelling on the fact that I might’ve died will only bother you for no reason,” you hold his hand, “I am here and alive, aren’t I?”
your husband sighs, resting his head on your right shoulder, “you’re hurting my poor little heart whenever you put yourself in danger like that.”
a giggle escapes your lips, and your hands naturally find their way in his hair, fingers gently carding through, “whatever shall we do.”
“if things went my way then you would just stay home looking all pretty like you always do,” he states, and you roll your eyes.
“well, they’re going my way tonight, so—“ the clock strikes twelve, “happy birthday, silly boy.”
his eyes widen and he pulls away to look you in the face. he blinks dumbly then looks at what’s in your hands: a cupcake with a candle.
a wide grin of unbridled joy appears on your husband’s face. his eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he laughs, “I really didn’t expect it this time!”
“you outdid yourself, pretty girl,” he hums, hand caressing your cheek.
“I still have a lot more things for you,” you beam with pride. satoru can’t contain himself anymore, and he pulls you into a loving embrace.
“I love you so much,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.
you pat his back, “I love you too, ‘toru,” you laugh, “but you’re pressing on my wound, and I think I am just going to cry and not because of overwhelming love.”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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xbellaxcarolinax · 10 months
Note
pls do virgin miguel o'hara w/ a huge cock and fucks both of u dumb 🥹
I hope this is what you meant, babe. Miguel might be ooc, idk, anyway, here ya go:
NSFW below the cut, minors DNI.
Nothing could have ever prepared you for this.
He's big—massive even. The head’s swollen, precome beading at the very tip. All that from a heavy makeout session.
You stared, almost fascinated, stunned into silence.
"...is it okay?" Miguel grunted, watching you carefully with nervous eyes. He was sitting rather uncomfortably at the edge of your bed, legs spread apart and briefs pooled around his ankles.
"Uhh…yeah," you sank to your knees in front of him, "just never seen one so...big." Miguel grew increasingly flustered at your words, even more so when you gripped him firmly in your hand, squeezing ever so slightly. His cock looked ridiculous in your small hands but that only fueled you to take up the challenge. You knew it'd hurt so good.
You bit your lip before devouring him, taking as much of him as you could. He choked, hand flying to grip your hair, and you were certain he’d take the lead and move you over his cock at the speed he desired, but he didn’t. His fingers were gentle, almost hesitant as he buried them within the strands.
It was your first time tasting him. You got lost in it, slobbering over the tip and down his shaft with the intention of taking him whole but he pushed you away, causing you to release him with a pop.
“Fuck, cariño,” Miguel panted, shaking his head, his dark hair damp with sweat, “I can’t—you can’t—it’s too much, I won’t last.”
You looked up at him with a teary gaze, wanting to make eye contact but he refused, content with turning his head to the side to look at the wall.
“Mig?” He ignored you, jaw clenched and nose flared as he fisted the sheets under him.
“Miguel,” you tried again, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you stood. He ignored you still and you grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes, “what’s wrong?” You smoothed his hair away from his brow, hoping the action would soothe him. His eyes were lidded but he looked at you, brows arched.
“What’s wrong, baby?” You cooed.
"I don't know what I'm doing." He muttered, shutting his eyes as soon as the words left his lips.
"What do you mean?" You questioned, pressing your lips to his forehead in a chaste kiss, "you’re supposed to sit and enjoy.”
“That’s not what I mean,” he sounded frustrated, his large hands falling to your hips, gripping you tightly, “I’ve…never done any of this before.” You paused, processing his words while stroking your thumbs over his high cheekbones. 
He’s never done this before? Had no one ever sucked his cock?
Did he mean…?
Oh. OH.
“You mean you’re a…?”
“Virgin. Yeah.” He finally said, dropping his into the plushness of your breasts. 
The last thing you assumed was that Miguel O’Hara was a virgin. The man was the very definition of confidence. You’ve seen how women acted around him. It never crossed your mind that he lacked any sexual encounters. But now it made sense. You’ve been dating Miguel for a few weeks and within those few weeks, you did nothing more than kiss like the world demanded it from you. That was fine; he was an excellent kisser.
Anytime it seemed like something more would come from the kissing, he’d stop, nipping it in the bud, saying he had work in the morning. He was a busy man and, well, that was that. You thought he never had much time for anything else.
But you understood now.
“Ahh Mig, nothing to be embarrassed about,” you said sweetly, brushing the tip of your nose with his, “we can stop if you want—”
“No!” He roared, bringing you down to his lap. You could feel his erection, hot and wet with your spit, pressing hard against your clothed core. You gasped, letting your hands fall to his shoulders as he buried his face into your neck, “Don’t wanna stop. Wanna feel you.”
“Yeah?” you breathed, eyes fluttering as he nibbled your skin, “a-are you sure? If you’re not ready then—”
“I’m ready,” He growled, pressing his brow against yours, “just thought you should know, cariño. Don’t want to disappoint you.”
You rode him for what felt like hours, his giant cock slamming into where you needed him the most. You ached from the stretch of him, your cunt swollen and raw, gushing all over his length. He was a moaning mess, biting every surface of you he could: your neck, your shoulders, your collarbones, your breasts. He was insatiable, cumming within minutes of your pussy swallowing his cock. Refractory period non-existent. He’d go again and again and again till he painted you completely with his spend and you were too fucked out to speak.
Nope. He didn’t disappoint. Not even a little.
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runicarbiter02 · 11 months
Note
How would each CoD character react to you touching their cheek for the first time? (In a caressing way)
A/N: Oh my god, this is actually the cutest and I couldn't think of a better way to start off this blog, thank you for this, love! I hope you enjoy! ~ Hannah
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ALEX KELLER
Oh, this man is absolutely melting the second your hand cups the side of his face.
The goofiest damn grin on his face, corners of his eyes crinkling, soft laugh rumbling in his chest.
"How ya doing, sweetheart? Hanging in there?" Man is always concerned with you and your well-being.
Absolutely is the type of person to just completely nuzzle into your touch, soft sigh of content leaving his lips.
You aren't getting your hand back any time soon. Try and pull away, and he will absolutely pull the kicked puppy look. You can't bring yourself to pull away anyway.
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ALEJANDRO VARGAS
"Oh, is there something you need, mi vida?" This motherfucker and his sweet, smooth voice. Love him.
He will gently draw you in close with a hand on your waist, that signature cheeky grin on his lips. He'll gently take your hand in his and just press sweet kisses to your fingertips.
This will lead to him pulling you aside for a moment, peppering you in sweet kisses and showering you in the most endearing compliments in Spanish.
Expect to be walking away with a spring in your step and a flushed face.
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GARY "ROACH" SANDERSON
At first, he will look wildly confused, his brows furrowing slightly and his head cocking to the side.
"What's up, hun? Everything okay?" He signs the term of endearment with so much passion every time, it is absolutely the sweetest and most heartwarming thing. Any term of endearment he uses is always signed with more passion than anything else.
Once you let him know you just wanted to love on him, this cheeky little shit is flirting with you like crazy.
"Oh, just wanted to love on me, huh? Well, there's more ways you could-" He cuts his signing off with his own laughter when you playfully shove his face away, and he follows after you, making obnoxious kissy noises.
He makes it up to you, though, with the most affectionate kisses. He's goofy and that reflects in how he shows you his love.
(Can you tell I love Roach? I love him very much.)
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JOHNNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH
Johnny will take your other hand, place it on his other cheek, and will gently press your hands against his cheeks to squish his face.
He hums happily, reveling in your touch as his eyes shut and his lips curl into a smile.
"Always know what I need before I even do, mo chridhe." This man is so, so whipped for you. Looks at you with so much love and affection that you might as well melt before him.
Do expect this to end up with you wrapped up in his arms, snuggled close, the Scotsman whispering some of the stupidest jokes known to man to you in an effort to get you to laugh.
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JOHN PRICE
I have like a very specific image in mind for this one!
He tends to work himself to the bone, getting lost and caught up in his work, and its very, very hard to get him out of it. It's one of those nights where you find him hunched over his desk, nose buried in his work.
You walk up behind him, gently resting your hand on his cheek and he pauses, tilting his head back to look up at you.
Despite the exhaustion, his expression softens, the tender smile on his face highlighting the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.
"It's late, isn't it...? Mmm... Alright, dearest, I'll head to bed."
He gently grasps your wrist and tilts his head to press a fleeting kiss to your palm, and then to the pulse point on your wrist. It takes a bit more convincing before he's off to bed.
(I'm a bit biased, I'm a major John Price simp if you couldn't tell.)
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KEEGAN RUSS
Look, I firmly believe our resident masked men are softies, but they're all different in terms of their softness.
This man is a softie with you, but good god, is he suave and flirty.
"Mmm, what's up, kid...? Just looking for an excuse to see my face, hm? All you had to do was ask." It should be illegal how much this man's voice sounds like a silky purr.
Soft kisses to your fingers, knuckles, and the back of your palm. Fleeting kisses that barely meet, brushing against your skin and leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.
"Always so sweet for me, kid."
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KÖNIG
(Apparently this man is a colonel? And from what I've seen, if he joined at 18, and if we take the average amount of time it takes to get to that rank... This man is likely in his early 40s. Dilf König? Dilf König.)
Masked man number two! Softie, but different from Keegan. This man is the shy sort of soft.
I imagine this would happen after he shows you his face for the first time. He grew up bullied for his appearance, among other things, and its made him rather insecure about his looks.
When you gently cup the side of his face after studying him for a moment, he heaves a shuddering sigh and averts his gaze shyly. But, the second you tell him how handsome he is, his face goes pink and he flushes shyly.
"Ah, meine Sonne und Sterne... You're going to make me melt." He then proceeds to kiss you softly on the forehead and tells you how much he loves you.
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KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK
A pleasant flush works its way onto his cheeks and he gives you that beautiful smile full of sunshine.
"Missed you, lovely. You been taking good care of yourself?" Sweet, heartless man that he is, worrying about you even though he looks exhausted after his most recent mission.
Gently draws you into him and just hugs you tight, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and sighing happily. The second your cologne or perfume washes over him, all tension leaves him completely.
"Missed this. Missed you." Whispered words against your skin. He gently sways in place with you as you two embrace, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. Fully cherishes the moment.
"How's about some takeout and we finally watch that show you've been talking about? The House of the Dragon, right? Hopefully its better than the last few seasons of Game of Thrones." You have a stellar date in as you binge the entirety of The House of the Dragon and make up for lost cuddling time.
(Gaz does NOT get enough love and it's criminal. Perfect boyfriend/husband material right here. I adore him. Also? Man is absolutely gorgeous? Best man.)
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NIKOLAI
(Russian dilf? Yes please! Underrated man right here.)
Late nights in bed, curled up with him are always the sweetest. Soft whispered nothings as you both lay together, skin on skin, fully content in a post sex haze.
He shoots you a lazy grin as you cup his face, his hand gently rubbing up and down the expanse of your back. "What's on your mind, мое солнышко? Laying there looking so stunning..."
Soft, playful kisses are placed along your jaw, a cheeky smirk on his lips when you begin to protest, laughter in your voice.
"One more round wouldn't hurt... We can sleep in tomorrow morning, Золотце." You know damn well you're going to be exhausted in the morning as he takes the time to worship every inch of your skin.
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RODOLFO "RUDY" PARRA
(Rudy, my darling, my beloved, my SWEET! This man is also criminally underrated even though he's PERFECT husband material. SHAME!)
He happily returns the favor as you rest your hand against his cheek, his hand cupping your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours.
"Long day, cariño? Mmm, I understand... I'll draw us a bath and we can relax." He takes your hand, pressing sweet kisses to your knuckles before he draws a bath for the both of you.
You both spend most of the evening in the tub, you resting against his back as he holds you close, featherlight kisses pressed to your skin as you both talk about your day.
The both of you take such good care of each other, and there's never less than 100% put into your relationship on both sides.
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SIMON "GHOST" RILEY
Masked softie number 3: Tender and longing edition.
His night terrors don't often wake you; he's usually fairly good at hiding them. The first time he does wake you is during a particularly violent one that has him thrashing and crying out in his sleep.
He wakes not long after you do, sweating and panting, his voice hoarse from how much he had been crying out. Once you're sure he's fully conscious, you gently rest your hand against his cheek and guide him through a grounding routine: 5 things he sees, 4 people he knows, 3 foods he likes, 2 things he hates, and one thing he loves.
As he talks, you become his sole focus as the night terror fades into the back of his mind, the grounding method working wonders.
And when it comes to the one thing he loves, he shuts his eyes and presses further into your touch, a few tears streaking down his cheeks. One hand gently clutches your wrist while the other rests against yours, holding your hand against his cheek. He doesn't need to say it. You know.
You always, always know. And with a kiss to his forehead and your thumb stroking against his cheek, you let him know. I love you too.
[I'M SORRY IF ANY OF THE TRANSLATIONS ARE INCORRECT, I TRIED MY BEST TO GET THE PROPER ONES!]
Mi vida - My life; honey
Mo chridhe - My heart
Meine Sonne und Sterne - My sun and stars
мое солнышко - My sunshine
Золотце - Honey; darling
Cariño - Honey; dear
TAGLIST:
@floral-force
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blublublujk · 6 months
Text
good girl, gone bad
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oneshot
word count: 6k
genre: established (secret) relationship
pairing: good girl y/n x bad boy jk
summary:
“I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.” You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.” What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?
warnings: basically just pwp but plot went missing (oops!), swearing, smoker jk (i swear if anyone complains in my inbox i'll haunt you), explicit sexual content; jk has a huge dick ok, consensual recording/pictures, car sex (don't fuck in a car), hickeys, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, breast play, blowjob, fingering, cunnilingus, come shot (on face), slut shaming (again lol), come tasting/swallowing, stomach bulge (my fault i love this one), choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie
a.n: sorry for a late update hope yall dont mind, but i just wanna get rid of all my drafts they are PILING. lol forgive me for only always writing about jungkook, but he's so easy to write about. he breathes, and i instantly open my notes app (im not even joking). this has been sitting in my drafts since his LA trip (iykyk) it sparked a conversation and i wrote it. i want that man bad... and im lesbian :D
ANYWAYS enjoy and STREAM GOLDEN for our golden bunny <3
p.s: i'll probably come back to this couple but its a oneshot for now... but wouldn't no nut nov be fun with this jk?? everyone say yesss. ok bye.
—> m.list
—> welcome me on ao3 & twt
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“Ugh, what a piece of shit.”
Before you even get to ask who, the motorcycle roars back to life across the parking structure belonging to the very one and only, Jeon Jungkook. A group of college jocks crowd around the man. There’s a cigarette between his fingers, he’s not paying it much attention though. He's deep in conversation, laughing at something one of them said, clearly more invested in the joke than anything else around him. 
As the laughter dies down, he looks over, eyes connecting while he brings the cigarette to his pierced lip, slowly inhaling the toxic fume. The terribly annoying (yet somehow sexy) tattooed jock on his loud motorcycle winks towards your direction, before selfishly exhaling that poisonous smoke into the air. Fuck, you really, really wanted to hate him too. 
“Yuck.” Karina gags with a scrunch to her nose, turning a cold back to them and you’re grateful to her because you almost get stuck in his lustful gaze. 
“Yeah… yuck.” You reply with no real meaning somehow managing to convince her you meant it.
“I hate him and his stupid friends. They are killing the Earth slowly and they don’t even give a fuck!” Karina argues in all her given glory and in her environmental science major mindset. “Plus those cancer sticks reek, why must the general public suffer because they can’t last thirty without them.”
Jungkook could last thirty without them. Way more than thirty when you were around him, especially when he was given something (or someone) to entertain himself with, but you couldn't say that aloud so the sudden thoughts stayed safe and sound in your head. 
“No, no they don’t. But what can we do?” There’s a sigh and then you clear your throat. “Should we get going now?”
Your arm wraps around hers, gesturing the way back to campus with a swift wave where you both had been meaning to study given that classes finally started cramping in heavy assignments.
“Yes, please.” Karina is quick to sharply turn her heel and walk back towards the building. “I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.”
You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.”
What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?
—-
“You taste disgusting.” There’s a muffled laugh pressed into your lips, as your tongues meet halfway, meeting each other’s lips in a bruising wet kiss. Your ass grinds roughly against his lap, groaning into your mouth while you bring your ass flush down, feeling his soft cock harden below you. His right hand grips your right ass cheek, jiggling it in his hand, before smacking it (with love, of course!). 
“Yeah?” Jungkook smirks, bringing his mouth against your throat, sucking and licking everywhere there was space. He sneakily leaves little love bites behind even though he knows you’ll kill him for this later because you have somewhere to be after this. He even bites your ear lobe gently between his teeth, before he cockily whispers. “You love it though.”
The whimper that leaves your mouth should be illegal. It only drives Jungkook crazier. 
Both hands find purchase on your ass now, spanking you once again in each cheek. Though Jungkook was a bit disappointed he wasn’t seeing your flushed bare cheeks on top of him, but he guesses he can settle for now. “You gonna let me fuck you now baby?”
He gropes your asscheeks without any hesitation, still leaving wet kisses buzzing onto your skin, stealing a quick kiss from your raw-bitten lips. 
“Mm, only if you ask nicely.” You tease, dragging a finger along his jawline.
With this, Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. Your hand comes to fist his hair, while he drops another wet smooch onto your lips. “You know I’d do anything for a piece of this ass angel.”
You smile into the kiss, grinding harder against his now– hard cock. You felt your folds leak of your own arousal. It was so undeniable. The attraction between you two, the desire to take each other apart, to be within each other’s arms. There was no place like Jungkook’s lap. Here you could stay forever.
“Imagine what people would say if they saw you like this baby.” Jungkook starts teasing, tugging your shirt off with no trouble. Your breasts catch his attention, noticing that you are wearing that black lingerie set he had bought for you last Valentine’s Day. “Fuck. Look at you baby.”
He squishes your breasts together, leaning up to kiss the uncovered tender flesh on both sides. You don’t even attempt to hold your moans back. “I– nghhh.”
“Did you expect to get fucked today princess? Hmm? Is this all for me?” Jungkook’s words work like magic, they drip off his sinful tongue like honey. You bring your body flush against his, burying your blushing face against his neck. “Don’t get shy on me baby, tell me. Did you wear this all for me?”
He purrs sweetly and you only nod, cheeks burning red. 
It's not like you were embarrassed of him, no in fact, you were happy to announce that the college campus’ certified bad boy is all yours and has been for the past two years. 
There was no exact moment to this, the attraction had always been there. 
You had first officially met Jungkook in one of your general ed classes. Statistics, to be exact, which he would have one-hundred percent failed had it not been for you passing him the answers mid exams. It wasn’t like that to begin with of course, it took you some convincing. To be fair and to your excuse, it was so hard to say no to those beautiful big brown eyes.
At first, you assumed he was doing this all, acting lost and playing dumb, to get into your pants which he succeeded. However you had enough dignity left to make him work for it. Until you realized those secret smiles, stolen glances, and subtle hand holds were much more than just a silly game. You had fallen for his charm, and against everyone’s advice to stay far away from him, you fell in love with the (not so terrible) bad boy and let him take over your heart completely. It happened so randomly and so all at once. It was confusing, new, but most of all, liberating. 
Being with Jungkook was so freeing and the thrill of being caught with him was so worth it. It didn’t matter what people thought of you or him, you both were willing to die on this hill of love. 
Jungkook, too, had fallen quickly. How could he not? There was nothing to dislike and everything to love. Your pouty scolds, he looked forward to. The stolen glances across campus were his favorite, a secret only you and him held close to heart. There were times where your cheeks would flush pink, because he would steal kisses from you behind the campus library. You were seriously his favorite person ever. 
“Jungkook stop! What if someone sees us?” You would whisper-shout, a pout would form against your will. 
Jungkook would just kiss your worries away again and again and then say. “You’re the cutest little thing alive baby.” 
“Are you trying to change the subject?” It was hard to speak between kisses, that and the fact that he would squish your cheeks together like the adorable boyfriend he was. 
“I don’t know. Is it working?” His reply was cheeky and lips would start trailing down your neck and then you determined, yes. Yes, it is working. Fuck it all. 
It’s safe to say, he was yours since the start of it all, as you were his. Wrapped in each other’s fingers before anyone had realized it, now you were inseparable. 
“Answer me princess.” Jungkook pulls you back gently, observing your flushed face. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
Of course, this only makes you blush harder, but you do manage to admit. “Y-Yes… I wore this only for you. Always for you.”
Jungkook smiles, pecking your cheek. “Then I’m the luckiest man alive angel.”
He cradles your face, before leaning in to kiss you. This time, you guys take your time. Your mouths stay closed, taking the time to really feel the plushy feeling against your own and enjoy each other’s presence. You felt as if you were floating in clouds. 
“Jungkook.” You mumble onto his lips and he hums, but that’s not enough so you call his name once more with intent. “Jungkook.”
He pulls back with a questioning look. “Yes, my love?”
“Can you please just fuck me already?” The words come out barely above a whisper, even after fucking you so many times, you could be so shy at times.
Jungkook breaks out into a bunny-like grin, holding back a stifled laugh. “So much for wanting to make me say please, look at who’s pleading now.” 
“J-Jungkook…” Your face goes hot again and he laughs once more, patting your ass softly.
“Okay. Okay, my love. Enough teasing, I’ll fuck you since you asked so nicely baby.” Jungkook takes his sweet time taking off his own shirt, and pulling your skirt off. It was a bit tricker, given you were both in your car which was not fit for two people even in the backseat, but you guys always made it work. 
You were still scared to ride to campus with him as much as he begged you to because it would blow your secret relationship, but fucking on campus has yet to be off-limits. Mainly because Jungkook fucks you all too well, and you aren’t one to say no to good dick (oops).
He attaches his mouth right above the bare skin of your left breast. He holds your tits in his hands, pushing them together, stuffing his face right between them. Jungkook makes sure to pay attention to both breasts (it’s only fair), rubbing your hard buds through the black lace which hardly covers them. You bite back a moan, feeling him rut up against your heat, his hard length pressing stiffly against you, your walls already clenching, desperate to feel him inside you.
His tattooed hand slips below, releasing the nipple he had been tugging on earlier. You feel the tip of his fingertips brush against your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby. I can’t wait to be inside you.”
Surely by now, you were dripping onto the lace. His erection is still pressing against your inner thigh. “D-Don’t wait then.”
Your boyfriend smiles, bringing his lips to yours. “Behave. You’ll get some dick inside you soon.”
Like the brat you were, your eyes rolled back so used to being spoiled. He pays it no mind though because his tongue comes out again, licking your lips apart. Your tongues meet once more, this time you suck his tongue into your mouth, brushing it against the roof of your mouth. He taste quite bitter, it’s the cigarette from earlier, yet somehow and against all judgement, he tastes fucking delicious. Especially when a grunt slips from his throat, feeling you roll your barely covered folds against his fingers.
He allows this, putting more pressure with two fingers, feeling you drench his fingertips even through your panties. Jungkook pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth, spit mixing as he reciprocates the favor, sucking gently on your tongue. You tasted like the strawberries you had earlier for lunch and Jungkook groans, greedily swallowing the taste in your mouth. 
What an innocent sweet little thing you were and he was about to ruin you all. 
Cigarettes and strawberries. 
Quite the pair. 
You whine into his mouth, unable to hold back much longer. “Please, Jungkook…”
He smirks against your mouth. How much he loved the way you fell apart on his cock. Especially more, when he had barely had his hands on you and you were already begging for more. Jungkook pulls back, but not before you whine a soft “no.” He holds your cheeks in his palms, forcing you to look directly into his hazy eyes. 
“Imagine if people knew baby.” His voice comes out more sultry, rough around the edges. His thumb carrasses your cheek, patting your mouth open. “How much of a slut you were for this dick.”
His words make you mewl (he knows how much you get off to this thought), he slowly eases two fingers into your mouth, holding your chin in place. You made sure to suck on them as he liked, your tongue coming flat against them. 
Jungkook bucks his hips into yours, chest rising while he watches you suck, like the good girl you were. “Imagine if they really knew, baby? Such a sweet girl like you, with someone so dangerous and reckless like me. What would they say? Hmm?”
He pulls out his fingers, seeing them barely glisten under the light.
“I- I don’t know.” Your voice is dry and soft yet, you are incredibly horny.
“You don’t know? I have a few ideas.” Jungkook chuckles, hands brushing along your back. “Can this come off?” 
He tugs your bra from behind and you hesitate to nod permission. “Good, I wanna watch them bounce when I finally fuck you.”
By now, you have given up resisting him, so you moan pathetically as he shreds your bra with ease and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking the tender bud into his tongue, flicking it and placing it between his teeth. He tugs and licks the sting away, watching with hooded eyes as you squirm against him. Your face burns imagining the idea. 
What if people knew? How would your friends react? They would surely be disappointed, Jungkook was good for nothing but trouble. Yet, he was perfect to you. You were willing to defend him from hell and back. Whatever it took for them to believe you. 
Jungkook moves to the other bud, placing it into his mouth, cupping and gripping your breasts. His mouth was hot and heavy against your nipple, his tongue caressing the hard bud. He squeezes them one last time before letting them drop, watching them bounce gently against your chest. Yup, Jungkook was the luckiest man alive. There was nothing better than this moment right here.
Heat travels your body quickly, feeling your own chest rise, struggling to breathe in the steamy car. Your boyfriend looks down, communicating with his eyes instead of actually saying anything, your hands quickly move to his belt, tugging them off and throwing it anywhere else. Desperately, you unbuckle his jeans, harshly pulling his boxer down, just enough to watch his dick spring out. The flushed, wet length smacks against his stomach, watching as his abs clench at the sensation. If you stare any longer, you’ll start drooling. “So good for me angel.” 
There’s no time to waste. 
“Wanna suck you off.” You breathe out, voice filled with desire and lust, clearly it takes over because usually his girlfriend was much shyer and timid, but that all disappeared when Jungkook’s cock was present. 
“Yeah?” Jungkook watches you drop on your knees, your pretty knees will for sure suffer the consequences of your horny choice, but there was no stopping this. He pats his thighs as he leans back to give you enough space. “I’m all yours, baby girl.”
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek when he feels your warm mouth wrap around his dick. Your tongue comes out messily, practically salivating and dripping all over him. There’s probably not a single day that goes by that you aren’t sucking his dick, but it was quite the experience every damn time. 
“F-Fuck, I wish you could see yourself.” He struggles a bit because the sight is fucking sinful and if people knew you like he did, they wouldn’t believe the person in front of him. 
His personal little cockslut. 
You pop off for a second, hand still wrapped around his length covered in your spit. “Yeah? Then take a picture for me, Kook.”
Double fuck.
When you first started dating Jungkook, you were against any pictures at all. After time passed and to his luck, you came around and you would let him take pictures, but only if he promised your face wasn’t in the frame. Now, his camera roll is covered with images of you and your blooming relationship. You didn’t care anymore about covering or blurring your face out. His camera roll consisted of just about everything, pictures of you sleeping peacefully against his chest as you would nap, videos of you laughing on the random adventures he would take you on, but never images of you nude. Never ever was he allowed anything that could probably incriminate you both, even if he would beg, ever-so sweetly. It seems like you came around after all. Bless you.
“Fuck, don’t talk to me like that princess, you have no idea what that does to me.” He’s never heard you sound so fucking sexy. Jungkook bites his lip, recovering his phone that had dropped earlier on the carpet. “You sure about this baby?”
“Yes.” Then you are back on his cock and he shudders, already snapping a few pictures. Your eyes looked up at the camera, making a show out of it all.
Jungkook tries controlling his heavy breathing but with a sinful tongue like yours, it’s impossible. “Can I record this princess, only if you’ll let me, of course.”
You take him deeper into your throat and nod furiously on his cock. You trusted him enough, you knew Jungkook could never hurt a single soul, unless they tried him. Point is, he would never do anything to break that trust so hell yeah, why not add more to his long collection.
“God, you are so perfect baby. Made for me and only me.” Jungkook’s voice is nothing short of possessiveness. He presses record, caressing your hair softly, almost petting you for your work like the good girl you were for him. “Imagine if they knew how well you take cock baby. How perfect those plump lips look around my dick. You’re like a dream come true princess, my personal cockslut.” 
You moan around his length, loving the bitter taste on your tongue and Jungkook has to hold back from fucking your throat, though he thinks you’ll love it anyways. 
“Can I fuck your throat?” His voice is raspy and you open your mouth wider, nodding so prettily with dick stuffed in your mouth. Jungkook is careful when placing your hair in a little makeshift ponytail for the meantime and as best as he can with one hand as he starts to thrust into your warm mouth. “So beautiful and all mine. Isn’t that right princess?”
You don’t get to reply, but the vibrations of your moans that manage to run through his cock  answer for you and it almost makes him smile. What a good girl you were. Pretty things like you deserved to be spoiled and he couldn’t wait to give you the fucking world. 
And was he fucking loving the show you were putting on for him becoming more needy and desperate on camera, your eyes rolled as he brutally used your throat for his liking. 
Jungkook bites at his bottom lip as he begins to roll his hips with much more force, feeling your throat take him down with greed. “Fuck baby, your throat feels amazing. Taking me so good.” 
He lets you go when he feels you tap his thigh and you gasp for air, tears threatening to leak down your face. “W-Want you to come on my face.”
Your voice is hoarse and his eyes widen at your sweet request. 
“Aren’t you just perfect for me today baby. Just you wait, you’ll get the best dick of your entire lifetime.” Not that you would know since he was your first and he knows that, proudly carries that in his cocky ego, but you always believed him. No one could fuck you better than this, you were sure. You bat your eyes at his promise and he comes down to kiss you messily, the camera records jackshit, but it captures your whiny moans and the sound of your lips smacking against one another. He pulls off with one last kiss and adjusts the camera frame back towards you as he takes his hard length and slaps his swollen, wet dick along your cheek. “Open up princess, I’m really fucking close.” 
You take him in with no hesitation and go to fucking work. Slurping and licking all over his length, your chin dripping with saliva, but you don’t even care anymore because his grunts and whines keep you going. 
Every now and then you look up at the camera making sure you do your best to keep him coming back. You know he will probably rewatch this every night that you aren’t there with him. And your predictions are correct because Jungkook’s already planning on watching this tonight and jacking off to it while you are out with Karina doing God knows what. All he knows is his sweet girl will be doing something productive while he’ll be coming undone in your gracious honor.
“I’m close baby.” He groans sexily, and his breathing starts to become sharp. “Look up baby, right into the camera, gonna come all over that perfect fucking face.”
Doing as he says, you look up sucking him dry, your hands come to relieve what you can’t cover with your tongue. His hand pushes you off for a second. “Tongue out baby.”
He fucks his fist and it doesn’t take long before he squirts his load all over your face, grateful that most of it lands on your tongue, you swallow it all immediately, humming gracefully at the salty taste. 
Jungkook’s eyes are blown out as he catches his breath and lets his dick flop back down against his thigh, you look like a fucking sin and he must be the Devil because he’s about to commit about thirty tonight. “Give me a second princess.”
He says between breaths as he stops recording with one last picture of your come-soiled face, still breathing heavily as he throws his phone on the floor again, thankful that he has something for later. You giggle against him and he almost awes as you throw your head against his bare thighs into a laughing fit. “Okay.” 
He huffs a dry laugh and pulls you up. “Times up. Come here.” 
Jungkook is quick to capture you in a sloppy kiss, not minding the leftover mess of come on your face, he doesn’t wanna mess up his masterpiece just yet. You soon grow desperate in his arms, but this time he doesn’t mess around. 
“Lay down.” Your bare back lands on the seats and he shoves himself between your thighs. Again, it’s steamy and fucking cramped in your car, but you both couldn’t care any less right now. 
His tongue hits your slit not bothering to move your matching panties, but the effect is almost the same. He licks a long strip watching you soil the silky lace mixing his spit with your own arousal. 
You moan sweetly as your legs come apart letting him completely devour your heat. Jungkook pulls off, tugging your spoiled little black panties to the side and continues on with his mission. His tongue finds your clit and you swear you could come like this. 
“R-Right there. Please.” Your boyfriend doesn’t let up either, eating your sweet pussy like it deserves. His tongue flicks your bud, building the sensation in your tummy. Jungkook sucks on your clit selfishly.
His chin is covered in your arousal. He’s humming and moaning deep inside your pussy, your juices stick onto his tongue like candy and he greedily swallows the treat whole. 
“B-Baby.” Your voice is struggling like his was earlier, but it’s there. He lifts his face from your heat, eyes in a lust-filled trance. Jungkook knows he’s pussy-whipped, but at least he admits his problems!
“Yes, my baby.” Jungkook’s eyes are blown out and he looks just as wrecked as you are. 
“C-Can I take a picture?” He almost gapes at your request, the amount of times you took him by surprise today. At this point, he would let you do anything, fuck his morality!  
“Do whatever you want princess. Pictures, videos. I’m all yours.” He gives you his full consent and permission to do anything so you are quick to grab his phone (you’ll send them over to yourself later) and start snapping pictures while he dives back in for seconds. 
Jungkook keeps your legs open while you are a whimpering mess above him, struggling to get the best picture. You have no idea how he was doing this himself, the pictures come out blurry as he continues to devour you as if it was his last meal.
He also puts on a show for the camera like you did so nicely earlier for him. Jungkoook’s eyes hood as he stares up, he even winks for the shot. If college didn’t ever work out for either of you, this would be something to look into. Good thing that was not the case, at least for you, his little straight A student. 
“I’m g-gonna come.” This only makes your boyfriend go crazier between your folds. He drops eye-contact with the camera and instead solely focuses on that pretty pussy presented for him. Jungkook’s tongue is sin itself, not letting up once as more arousal drips out of you. He slowly teases a finger inside, building your orgasm quickly as he fucks you open with his middle finger. “I’m– nghh. Fuh-fuck!”
The sentence is never finished as you start to squirt onto his tongue, creating your own little masterpiece on his face. Jungkook has never swallowed anything down faster than right now and he’s loving every second of it. Completely pussy-whipped and all, but at least he’s happy!
Your boyfriend finally detaches himself from your heat and the sight is nearly adorable. His hair is now all fucked up and he’s a sticky mess everywhere (you are sure you look no better). 
“Yum, I could do that all day.” Jungkook shamelessly says. 
“Mm, I’m sure.” You say coming down from your own orgasm, he gives you a few seconds to breathe as you set his phone down again. Jungkook takes his shirt from the floor and wipes himself clean. He does the same but it’s no use, the come that landed on your face has dried up and he doesn’t wanna scrub it off and end up hurting your precious face. 
Jungkook kisses your cheek affectionately as an apology. 
“There’s dry come on my face right?” You start to scold him, but he smiles with all his teeth apologetically and you forgive him at that moment. 
“Guilty.” He smirks, proud of his work, he thinks you truly haven't looked better. 
Wrapping arms and legs around your boyfriend you whisper innocently. “I was promised dick of a lifetime, unless… unless you lied to me?”
Jungkook scrunches his nose cutely while he looks at your perfect pouty face, doe-eyes begging to be fucked. “I never lie, not to you at least.”
He makes you laugh and he detangles your legs from his waist. “Now let me focus, I have a reputation to uphold.”
There’s no laughing once two fingers press into you and you gasp at the invading feeling, but the stretch only burns for a while before it turns into pleasure and you are whimpering at his touch. “Fingers so deep.”
He smiles and you throw your head back. “Yeah? My dick goes even deeper baby, I’m just making sure you can take it.”
“I can take it.” You breathe out against his pink lips. “I was made for you.”
The taller’s eyes nearly eat you alive, fuck you were so sexy. “That you were baby. My perfect little cockslut.” 
His fingers pull out of you brutally and you whine, but he kisses you roughly making you forget the loss. A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it with purpose. You squirm in his hands and he pops off your lips. 
Fingers coated with your arousal trace your lips and you take them in greedily, sucking your own juices off the tattooed fingers, moaning at the delicate taste, his other hand still locked around your throat. 
“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” You nod around his fingers and he finally lets go, gasping for fresh air. “‘M gonna fuck you now baby.” 
Your legs fly open in response, letting him have his way with you. 
“Do me a favor?” He asks while taking his hard length in his hand, jerking himself off while he awaits your response. 
“What?” You hum, confusion written all over your face. 
“Record this for me. I want you to see how I break you apart. How this pretty pussy makes a mess all over my dick. I want you to remember this fuck for the rest of your life.” His voice drops a few octaves and you can’t help but gasp and moan at his vulgar use of words. 
You used to be innocent, at least, that’s what Jungkook used to think. In a way, he thinks you still are. Untouched and pure, only for his eyes and his hands to touch. Jungkook is honored that he was your first, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was gentle and took care of you every step of the way. It was like that until you were begging and pleading for more. Sweet then, and sweet now.
He’s created a little monster, but he knows that your heart is pure and that’s what he loves most about you. 
“Okay, yes.” His phone is back in your hands and you click record, watching him line-up his cock. Jungkook groans as he disappears snuggly inside you. “Mmm.”
He lets you get used to the feeling and once he feels your breathing stabilize he starts to thrust himself with strong strokes inside you. 
Like the first time, you are struggling with the phone because you can’t stop shivering and shaking, you feel him in your guts and recording is much harder than pictures because it lasts longer and you can't stay still for that long. Not with dick inside you.
“K-Kook. I— oh.” You stop to moan when he hits your g-spot and he continues ramming that same spot over and over. “I- I can’t. Hand’s shaking.”
Your sweet boyfriend grabs the phone and lets you settle yourself. “That’s okay princess, I got you. Just lay there, I’ll take care of you.” 
He records himself ramming into you for a few minutes, watching himself disappear into you on camera. The taller one can't even believe this is his reality. How did this even happen and most of all with him of all people? He truly was the luckiest man alive! 
“‘S deep, Kook.” He fondles one of your breasts as he keeps a harsh pace, rubbing the hard nub with his thumb. 
“Yeah baby? Tell me where you feel it.” He whispers loving the way you tremble, your gaze struggling to keep up with his. 
“Right here.” You touch right below your belly, palm flat against the feeling of his cock inside you. “So so deep.” 
You mumble something else, but he doesn’t get to hear it because your high pitched moans drown everything out. He lets go of your breast watching them bounce as he continues to pound straight into your sweet spot. 
The camera catches it all though. The mess between your thighs look just as delicious on film as they do in real time. The sounds you make, the squelching noise that is being created by his cock going deep inside you, and most of all, it captures your beautiful face as it comes apart. 
He presses on your stomach right where your own palm rests and you strangle out a whine. “I- I can’t. T-Too much.” 
“You can take it. Remember?” His dick tears through you from the inside and you start yelling when he increases his pace. He’s fucking you mercilessly now and you can’t control the sounds that escape. “You were made for me, princess.”
“Yes, yes, I am.” You sound beautiful, but you would kill him if you guys got caught now especially in the position you guys are in. 
His firm hand finally comes off your stomach and instead two fingers go inside your mouth, muffling your screams and whines. 
The car rocks back and forth. He’s sure people know what the fuck is going on, the windows are foggy as fuck, for fuck’s sake, but you would hate him much worse for not finishing you off.
“Mmff, don— stopff.” He nearly giggles as you struggle to speak, but he keeps his promise quite well. He fucks you ever harder and deeper, his cock will surely fall off after this, but it’s all worth it. He slams inside, bottoming out fully before pulling out and repeating the same steps. “Fuhh-uk.”
“You like that baby?” Jungkook rasps feeling you squeeze tightly around him, which only means one thing, you are really fucking close. “Gonna come all over my cock princess?” 
“Mmff.” You are quick to nod and hum sweetly. He decides to pull his fingers out, spit dripping all over. “Yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Harder Kook- ah!”
Jungkook almost forgets he’s recording and he centers the camera again, wanting to capture every last second of this. You are glistening all over, he’s made a complete mess of you, but he is no better. Jungkook is dripping sweat and yet, that doesn’t stop his mean and precise strokes against your velvet walls, stretching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. 
The final straw is when you feel his messy fingers start toying with your clit and you are coming once again all over your back seats and wetting his cock just how he likes it. Being a squirter had its own perks with a boyfriend like Jungkook because that meant he never stopped fucking you until you completely had nothing more to give. 
Jungkook curses when he starts to see your orgasm trinkle out, he fucks you all through it though, feeling the water-like pressure against his slit. And it doesn’t take long before an orgasm catches up to him. 
“Inside.” You plead with a pout, eyes completely blown out. 
With one last curse Jungkook comes deep inside your walls. He catches his breath for a few moments before pulling out slowly, making sure to capture the dribble of his come which sadly hangs onto your hole. “Push it out for me princess.” 
“Nooo, we’re gonna make a mess Kook.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smile on his face because a mess has already been made. 
“I’ll clean it. Now, push it out baby.” You almost cover your face because you are sure you turned red, but you start to push his seed out of your hole and he’s tempted to fuck it back inside. 
“Fuck. That’s it baby. Perfect comeslut. Isn’t that right?” He stops recording once he’s gotten the shot he wanted and he starts to wipe you down with his shirt, lucky enough that he has a back-up hoodie to cover him after he’s done. 
“Yes, all yours.” 
You both smile against each other’s lips before he whispers. “I love you princess.” 
“I love you more.” 
“Impossible baby.”
—-
JK❤️: hiiii 🙂
me: hi baby :) everything okay?
JK❤️: marvelous 😇 i just came watching that video we took earlier ;))
me: baby! 😠  i'm out with karina! can you not talk about sex for two seconds while im out
JK❤️: sure! just came all over myself totally wasn't watching our sextape back ;)))
me: nice talk jungkook.
JK❤️: come home soon~~ i miss you :((((
me: love you too lol
JK❤️: not more than me. come home soon im serious!!!
me: i'll see you later jungkook. ❤️
JK❤️: 😠😠😠 
me: ❤️❤️❤️
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nyoomerr · 5 months
Note
A drabble about Bingge realizing his children’s beloved Head Imperial Tutor has the same soul as the ‘nice Shizun’ from that other world he once visited could be fun.
“Local man must compete with his own children for the attention of their very cute teacher!”
ahhh i love scenarios like this!! pitting bingge against his own kids is always so fun lol, hope you enjoy!
---
When Luo Binghe manages to find him, he isn’t even looking properly. He’s still spending his free time trying to find a way back into that weird mirror dimension, not scouring his world for anyone. After all, why would he look here? He already knows exactly where the Shen Qingqiu of his own world is; every bloody, rotten part of that body and soul is accounted for. Luo Binghe wants the other Shen Qingqiu, the one he’d gotten only a taste of, the one that had been so unfairly given to his doppelganger.
Perhaps, Luo Binghe thinks, watching through the doorway into the classroom his younger children use for self-study, he should have bothered to spend a bit more time looking at home before trying to force himself back into the mirror world.
“Ah, what are these tears?” One of the tutors is asking, tutting as if in disapproval even as he so gently wipes the face of one of Luo Binghe’s children. “You’re getting much better with your arithmetic, there’s no need to cry over a mistake now.”
The child hiccups, her little hands coming up to pull on the tutor’s robes, clearly trying to worm her way into his lap so she can wipe her face on his shoulder instead of on the perfectly fine handkerchief the tutor is trying to use.
Luo Binghe doesn’t even know which daughter of his that is. He doesn’t know who this tutor is, either, and yet -
The tutor raises his free hand up to pat soothingly at the child’s hair. He doesn’t try to unhook her hands from his robes, or stop her from shoving herself persistently closer to his person; he only pets her hair and wipes her face and tuts at her.
And yet somehow, Luo Binghe thinks, I’m sure that’s him.
It doesn’t make a great deal of sense to find this soul in a body unrelated to Shen Qingqiu, but at the same time it makes a whole world of sense to think of this kind teacher as someone entirely different from the cruel master Luo Binghe had grown up under.
Luo Binghe steps into the room properly, releasing the hold he’d been keeping on his qi to keep it held close to his body. The tutor looks up at the doorway, and frustratingly, the look of indulgence he’d been wearing just moments ago closes up. He stands and bows in unison with the other tutors in the room, and Luo Binghe flicks his hand dismissively so they know to ignore him and return to his duties.
The tutor - the kind Shizun’s soul - stands from his bow but does not immediately return to helping the girl he’d been working with. He only watches Luo Binghe a bit warily, clearly aware of Luo Binghe’s rapt attention on him, and continues to absently pat the hair of Luo Binghe’s daughter. The girl herself doesn’t seem to mind, as she’s managed to get close enough to the tutor to shove her face in his stomach and nuzzle in there, perfectly content and no longer crying. 
Well, no matter; if this man is already aware of Luo Binghe’s attention, no need to hide it further. Luo Binghe approaches without hesitation. 
“And what tutor has brought this Lord’s child to tears?” Luo Binghe asks after having reached the table that this tutor and child had been working at. He knows perfectly well that this man was not the cause of his daughter’s tears; he wants to know how he’ll respond anyway.
“This lowly one is Shen Yuan, my Lord,” Shen Yuan dutifully replies, and though he bows deeply he does not raise his hands from Luo Binghe’s daughter. “My most sincere apologies; I will accept punishment.”
Luo Binghe hums, satisfied. Good, he thinks, he’s already loyal to me. Very good.
Before he can say anything else, though, the girl buried in Shen Yuan’s robes shouts, “No!”
When Shen Yuan stands again, Luo Binghe can see his daughter peeking out, her face half turned away from Shen Yuan to glare up at Luo Binghe. 
“No?” Luo Binghe asks.
“No!” She shouts again. Her demonic huadian flares, and Luo Binghe raises his brows - this girl really dares issue such a threat to her father, knowing who her father is?
Shen Yuan, seeming to catch the very same thing, quickly moves the hand that had been in her hair to cover up her demonic huadian. This does not stop the girl herself from talking.
“If you try to punish Shen-ge, I’ll stab you!”
“Ah, wait -” Shen Yuan protests, pressing the girl further into him as if that will hide her away. He glances nervously at Luo Binghe, expression a bit pinched, and then -
“Who’s threatening Shen-ge?!” Comes a cry from across the room.
“Someone’s threatening Shen-ge?!”
“Lord Luo is threatening Shen-ge!!”
Suddenly, it seems like half the children in the room are gathered up in Shen Yuan’s robes, clinging to him and glaring at Luo Binghe as Shen Yuan frantically tries to soothe them with head pats and hushed whispers of Ah, don’t yell at him, anyone else is okay, but don’t yell at him!
Luo Binghe watches, amused and irritated and hungry all at once. Clearly, this Shen Yuan is already a treasure of his palace, and he hadn’t even known it - his own children have found this man before he himself did. 
Well, Luo Binghe thinks, watching Shen Yuan fluster more and more the longer Luo Binghe stays quietly watching the commotion, they may have him first, but I will be sure to have him last.
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dxckgrxsonx · 1 year
Note
"you can pretend all you want, i can see the fucking mess you're making of yourself." + jason please my love??? i love e2l <3
Pairing - Jason Todd x (F) Reader
Words - 900ish
Warnings - 18+ SMUT - Graphic Sexual Content - Unprotected Sex - Cocky!Jason (he's good and he knows it) - Swearing
Notes - Hi my darlings!! It's been far too long since I've written something smutty so here you are!! Hope you enjoy!! <3
**
He pisses you off like nothing else on this Earth.
Broad shoulders, incredible skill, smart fucking mouth. He calls you in the middle of the night knowing you’d answer; knowing without a shadow of a doubt that even with you seething and furious and goddamn exhausted, you would still pick up the phone.
He’s smug about it and sometimes, just sometimes, you consider blocking his stupid number.
“I absolutely fucking hate you.” You greet, halfway into a snarl. Vaguely, you acknowledge that it’s not an ideal greeting, but it’s three in the morning and the thread of patience between your fists frays horribly when Jason steps out of the dark, already grinning at the look on your face. “I was sleeping.”
“And yet…” Jason says, watching you far too intently. “Here you are anyway.” He presses forwards, crowds you right up against the nearest flat surface, and tips your head up so you have no choice but to watch him pick you apart. “It’s almost like you can’t say no to me, sweetheart. In fact, I don't think you’ve ever said no to me…”
“Don’t.” You whisper, knowing where he’s heading. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He presses on you hard enough to bruise; hard enough to scatter hairline fractures through your whole nervous system. It feels like static. It feels like an ache Jason carved into you with his own two hands–and his beautifully thick cock–to mark you as his own.
“You want this.” He breathes, mouth still pitched up in that wicked smirk and your entire world starts bending in the middle, moulding around Jason and warping under his capable hands. You can’t stand it: you hate yourself for it. “You get wet just thinking about it…thinking about me.”
It was a chance meeting and back then you were so goddamn stupid.
You could hardly walk after the first time, cunt stretched open and sore from how many times he opened you up with his fingers–with his cock. He was big and thick and he had no choice but to take his time to get your pretty pussy to yield to him–to let him in. He praised you the whole time, and then fucked you until you were trembling and whimpering and squeezing at his cock.
It was weeks before you heard from him again and nothing you did with your own two hands was enough.
You needed him and he knew it.
You need him now and he knows it.
There’s a wet spot soaking through your underwear and the second Jason see’s it he’s groaning something feral against your throat. Shoving you backwards onto the bed he chases and wedges his broad shoulders between your thighs before you have a chance to flinch them closed.
Grabbing at your knees he spreads you open and pushes your legs back until they’re almost by your ears. Your muscles burn at the stretch, and you try to wiggle out of his grip but Jason leans forward and drags his tongue over the slick fabric covering your weeping slit.
“Fuck you.” You gasp. Unable to think of anything but how much you hate him for what he’s turned you into and how good he makes you feel. “Fuck you so much.”
He laughs and it’s almost mean with how arrogant he is.
Jason releases his hold on your knees to unbuckle his belt and then he’s back, smacking the thick, heavy length of him against your covered pussy. He rubs the fat head through the growing damp patch on your underwear and your puffy clit twitches hard enough that he can see it throb.
Wedging the tip of his cock underneath the fabric he teases your soaked hole until you thrash a little and whine. Pressing in just enough to get you to stretch open around him he pulls back so he can do it again and you snap your jaw closed around the pleas building in your mouth.
“Say it.” Jason demands.
Sinking the first few inches into your soft, slick pussy Jason holds and waits, Lazarus eyes awake and interested in each trembling twitch of your body.
“I hate this.” You lie, unable to stop yourself from throbbing around the tip of his cock, arousal leaking and squelching out around the edges of him. “I hate you.”
“Oh sweetheart.” Jason hums, using one hand to pull your underwear to the side so he can see just how embarrassingly wet you are. Your slick sticks to the fabric and it stays attached to your pussy in thin strings “You can pretend all you want, I can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself.”
Thrusting forwards he stuffs his full length inside you with one, rough stroke and you moan loud enough to shake the windows.
“Oh–ah fuck!–Jason.” You try, voice trembling.
“There you go.” He says. “I knew you wanted this. I knew your aching little pussy wouldn’t be able to say no to me. No one can fuck you like I can, sweetheart.” Shoving your knees apart he holds you so tightly you can barely move and watches his cock split you open. “Every time I call you, there you are, all mad and pretty and wet. And the second I get inside you, you go all soft and cockdrunk for me.”
“Uh–plea–please.”
“Yeah.” Jason grins. “Just like that. Now, let’s see how much you can come for me this time, huh? You managed three last time before you started crying. But I think you can do better for me, right sweetheart?”
**
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hannieehaee · 1 month
Note
Svt member jerking off to another members gf
18+ / mdi
another member jacking off to you
content: established relationship, smut, afab reader, masturbation, mentions of a member catching you nude/having sex on accident, mentions of your or a member catching another member masturbating, etc.
wc: 781
a/n: i wasnt sure whether to write this from the pov of the member masturbating or the member who has a gf's pov, so i just went for the second one ... anyways i think irl theyd be genuinely angry at this lol but i decided to make it more lighthearted and crack-ish. hope u enjoy<3
masterlist
seungcheol -
he'd be mad as shit lmao. if he ever caught wind of (or even worse, caught) one of his members touching themselves with you in mind, all hell would break loose. he didnt care if it was all in their imagination, he'd go on a rampage to make sure none of them ever even looked your way ever again.
jeonghan -
he's a lil weird so i think he would do that little gremlin laugh he does and find some type of sick pride in knowing that even though you were his and only his, you had his friends wanting you so bad they had to jack off to the thought of you.
joshua -
just cocky about it. oh yeah? you want his girlfriend? too bad! she's well taken care of by her boyfriend joshua. no one could ever have you but him. it'd feed his ego knowing others wanted you but you'd never even so much as look their way as long as you had joshua.
jun -
just whiny about it. he knew his brothers quite well so he wouldnt think of it too deeply into it, knowing that you were quite pretty and probably had the affections of many men. he'd still be bothered by it, but not enough to actually have much of a reaction.
soonyoung -
this would activate an overly touchy side of him (even more than usual), refusing to leave your side (or stop fucking you at every given moment) in order to assert his dominance towards any member who dared look at you in anything other than a platonic way. somehow you'd also have to end up reassuring him that you like him and him only lmao.
wonwoo -
uncharacteristically cocky about it. but also would turn a little more possessive after finding out one of his members had you in mind while jacking off. even if you were unaware of what had happened, he'd fuck you extra hard for the next few days in order to let you (and everyone else) know how much you were his and only his.
jihoon -
would also turn super possessive at the situation. that, plus genuinely annoyed lol. he took your sex life and relationship to be something very private, so knowing that one of his member's even pictured you in that context would have him huffing and puffing his chest in annoyance. he'd be all over you for a while just to reassure himself that you were no one else's but his.
seokmin -
he'd feel kinda sad for some reason (?) like he would feel so weird at knowing you were in someone else's mind in such a way, specially since it was a friend of his. he'd feel sad for them knowing they could never have you, but also annoyed knowing other people wanted you in ways only he should ever want you.
mingyu -
would whine and pout and maybe even get genuinely annoyed. it was kind of crossing a boundary for his member to literally moan out his s/o's name while jerking off. why were you even on their mind in the first place? you were his and his only. he'd have to confront them and give them a reality check in the nicest way he could.
minghao -
he'd feel a little weird about it, wondering why jack off to you of all people. then he'd reason that you were the prettiest thing he'd ever laid eyes on and try to be a little more understanding. he'd maybe relate this to somewhat of a parasocial relationship, knowing it would never be mutual attraction between you and his member.
seungkwan -
absolutely scandalized and annoyed. why in all hell was his member whining out your name? why not find literally anyone else to be the protagonist of their fantasies? you were taken in every sense of the world, and even mere thoughts of you belonged to seungkwan and seungkwan only.
vernon -
can't really help what makes you horny, he'd think with a shrug. that's as far as that thought would go. yeah, sure, it was kinda weird that one of his friends was thinking about you in that context, but imagination is only imagination. nothing was actually happening, so it wouldnt really make him think too much of it.
chan -
frustrated more than anything. he already shared everything of his with his members. what do you mean he now had to share you with them? no. simply unacceptable. would curse and nag at whoever thought it was okay to even look at you in any way other than innocent. he'd become super possessive of you after that, showing off how much you were his to all his members.
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tsumtsumrry · 8 months
Text
Doctor's Orders
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before i say anything else, huge thank you to @victoria-styles for the idea and inspiration, i really hope you enjoy.
WC: 2.8k
warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, sexual content (fingering), extremely inappropriate relationship with gynecologist (just a work of fiction if your gyno starts to finger you please call the cops lol)
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Your eyes and ears are completely tuned in to the sound of the clock ticking on the wall next to the big flat-screen TV. You obsessively check the time every couple of minutes in anxiety that your appointment will come sooner than you thought. 
As soon as you made the appointment you regretted it. You’re an incredibly shy person, you keep to yourself and your two friends that you made in college who never strayed. And you know that it’s so dumb and so childish and irresponsible, but the mere idea of having to go to a place where a person sticks something up your parts is just too much for you. 
Your fingers are starting to feel raw from picking at them and you tilt your head up to the ceiling and blow out a frustrated breath. You wish your anxiety didn’t make doing everyday, human things so difficult for you. It’s even worse that the only time you’ve come to the gynecologist, it’s for something you deem kind of embarrassing. 
One day, you got home from work, exhausted and irritated, you got under the covers, imagined your favorite sexy scenario, waited for the sparks, and…nothing. Just nothing. It felt like you were trying to finish for hours and hours and you got nothing. And since then, nothing’s been able to do it for you. And for some anxiety-boggotten reason, you absolutely refuse to buy a sexy toy online or anything like that. Some crazy part of your mind thinks that the Amazon driver knows exactly what you would have in there and you can’t bear to see their face when they hand you your package. 
So after a grueling couple of months, you finally caved, and here you are, at the gynecologist. 
The sound of a door opening tears your attention away from the clock, and your heart immediately drops, a pit forming deep in your stomach. You almost want to squeeze your eyes shut and cross your fingers in hopes that your name isn’t called, but you’re in public, so you don’t. Instead, you hold your breath and look at the lady who just came out, praying that it isn’t you. 
She calls your name. You release a breath. 
“That’s me.” Your voice comes out shaky. She’s looking down at her tablet as you walk up to her but when she looks up, it’s like she notices your nervousness and gives you a sympathetic but encouraging smile. 
She takes you back and sits you down in a chair, “just gonna take your vitals, honey.” Her voice is soothing, like a mother, and you’re glad she’s the person you’re interacting with before the doctor that you’re so scared about. You look around the room as she does her work and you notice, the place is decorated really nicely. As if it had a woman’s touch. You know that more than one doctor works here, but you wonder if yours is going to be a woman, honestly that would make you feel a little better. 
She finishes rather quickly after asking you some questions about your medical history and things of the sort, and then her cadence changes, “Is it okay if I touch you?” She asks. You frown in confusion but nod. She places her hand on your arm and squeezes, “I know that this is your first time and I can tell that you’re really nervous, but trust me, Dr. Styles is the best we’ve got. He’s incredibly professional and kind, he’ll make you feel comfortable. And it’s better for you if you relax anyway.” She smiles gently, giving your arm one last squeeze before she picks up her stuff and walks towards the door.
Before she leaves, she turns around, leaning against the slightly ajar door, and shoots you a teasing smirk, “I’ll make sure to tell him to be extra gentle with you, dear.” And with that, she leaves. She’s sweet. And she definitely made you feel much better about the whole thing. 
It’s only a couple minutes of just a little internal freaking out before the door opens and your senses are automatically overtaken with a waft of strong cologne. 
“Alright…what do we have here…ah!” Your name falls perfectly from his lips, and an involuntary smile graces your face at his apparent goofy nature and the smile only grows when he grins back at you, dimples poking in his stubbly cheeks. 
“How are you feeling today? Hannah told me you were looking a bit nervous before. Has any of that subsided or do I need to do some breathing exercises with you?” He quips brilliantly. I guess being a doctor he’s well aware that laughter is the best medicine.
“I’m doing okay, actually. Much better.” Your voice comes out soft, unable to get it any louder than that. He gives you an approving smile and then offers his hand out for you to shake it. 
“M’name is Dr. Harry Styles. You can call me Harry, Dr. Styles, or Doc. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m personally fine with it all. I know your name already and…” he blows out a breath with his eyes comically wide “...basically your entire medical history so I think it’s safe to say we’re well acquainted!” You take his hand and shake it softly, a small giggle leaving your lips. You don’t miss the way he glances down at the contact. His hand feels nice. And you know it’s weird to be thinking that about your doctor, especially when that same hand will probably be somewhere near your genitals in the next couple of minutes, but his hand feels really nice against yours. Calloused and sturdy, yet gentle and soft.
You appreciate how he immediately got in tune with how cracking jokes made you more comfortable. It feels like extra effort to you and a warm feeling blooms in your chest at how attentive he is. You can tell that he cares about his patients and takes pride in his job, and it makes you feel so much more comfortable. 
“Okay m’darling. Says you’re here for a regular check up. Are you sure there’s no concerns? Nothing we should be worryin’ about? S’more helpful if you tell me now so I know what to look for.” His hand goes out to motion you to lie down on the examination table. You oblige and he grins at you again, waiting for your response. 
“Oh um…it’s nothing really just a very minor issue…” his eyes flick down to the movement of you fidgeting with your fingers and he presses his lips together and sighs, he looks up at you for permission before he takes your hands in his and starts to press them out with his.
 “This is okay, yeah?” he questions softly, nodding along with you when you nod, “I absolutely need you to relax, darling. This’ll be so much easier if you’re relaxed and calm. Need you to loosen up. Do that for me?”
You nod and try your best to follow his instructions. Something about his hands on yours and his gentle voice filling your ears only makes it that much easier. And you have a feeling he knows that. 
“There you go, honey. Now tell me what’s wrong so I can make it better.” 
“I just…ever since like a month ago, I haven’t really been able to um…finish. And ever since then I’ve barely been able to get turned on… or wet. Is that normal? Because I was fine before but all of a sudden I just…couldn’t anymore. It just feels like something might be wrong with me.” You let out a huge breath after you’ve finally revealed your problem. And as much as it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, it also terrifies you what his reaction is going to be. 
He doesn’t even blink. You imagine he’s dealt with things like this before, and you’re not surprised that he has little to no reaction. It’s literally his job. You figure you shouldn’t have been this nervous to begin with.
“Don’t worry m’darling. We’ll figure it out.” he coos, his thumbs rubbing softly on your knuckles, “alright. Let’s get started shall we?” 
You had already put your surgical gown on before he got here so all he has to do is lift the bottom up and get to business. And that’s exactly what he does. He puts his gloves on and lifts your gown on, his brows furrowed in concentration and his lips pursed in a cute pout.
He feels around, brushing his fingers through your folds. You jerk when his fingers brush your clit in a feather-light touch. He rolls his lips into his mouth briefly and you suddenly wish a hole would open right now and swallow you into the floor. You try not to, but you can’t stop ogling his concentrated face. He bites the inside of his cheek and squints his eyes slightly as he takes a closer look, “s’perfect, honey. Everything looks fine.” 
“Gotta figure out what’s going on with you though, hm?” He looks you right in the eyes as he says it, his hand resting on your thigh dangerously close to your cunt and you nod quickly, taking deep breaths in as quietly as you can. Something about the way he’s looking at you, handling you, talking to you, it’s got your stomach warming, and your core tingling in a way that you’ve sorely missed. He’s touching you like he wants you.
He gently talks you through the speculum, using his hand rubbing softly on your thigh and his voice to calm you down. After he’s done he praises you softly and heat blooms in your chest.
“Still shy on me?” he teases, turning around. He starts to fiddle with his things on the desk, picking a bottle of lube and squeezing it on his finger. You immediately hold a breath. This is the part where he’ll actually be inside you. All words that you could have said in response to his teasing are immediately stolen from your lips, all you can do is wait there in anticipation as he gets himself ready for you. 
“M’kay, darling”, he returns to you, placing his free hand on your thigh, “just gonna check on you. That okay?” 
“Mhm.” You feel like an idiot, unable to speak to your literal doctor because for some reason he’s got you feeling things you haven’t felt in months. 
“I’d prefer it if you used your words.” 
“Yes, Dr. Styles.” You manage to get the words out and he offers you a proud grin. When he pulls your gown up again, he sucks in a breath, his pupils dilating. He looks back up at you and it’s like you can feel the condescension in his gaze before he even opens his mouth. 
“Oh honey…nothing’s wrong with you.” He strokes his finger through your folds, eyes honed in on your cunt and a far-away look in his eyes as if he’s mesmerized by it. He presses his fingers at your entrance and you suck in a breath, “you’re okay, honey. S’okay.” He soothes you as he slowly slides his finger in. Both of your mouths part from the tight stretch. A soft puff of breath leaves his lips and a soft moan leaves yours. 
The second the sound leaves your mouth, your cheeks flame in embarrassment, you whisper out a slew of apologies and he only shushes you. His thumb on his free hand stroking your thigh soothingly. His finger leaves you until it reaches the knuckle, then it pushes right back into you, ripping a sharp gasp from your throat. 
“Shh shh. Just takin’ care of you like I’m supposed to.” He curls his finger up inside of you and a shaky moan leaves your throat. As soon as he hits that sensitive spot inside you, it’s like all of the orgasms you could’ve been having in the past few months come back to consume you tenfold. Your jaw hangs open as he starts to move his fingers faster, playing with you like a damn fiddle. 
“How’s that feel, honey? Feels like you’re better already. Made such a mess and you’re already squeezing me so tight.” Every word that leaves his lips goes straight to your cunt, his husky deep voice releases a cage of butterflies in your stomach, and when he coaxes a second finger inside of you and adjusts his hand so his thumb rubs against your clit, it immediately feels as if you’re about to burst. 
“Oh god—Dr. Styles.” You shriek out. 
“Harry, honey. Say Harry. Say m’name while I’m making you cum.” He demands, his fingers fucking you harder and robbing the breath from your lungs. You manage to stutter out his name and an approving groan leaves his lips, “look at you, honey, following the doctor’s orders. Such a good girl.” 
The warm feeling brews in your tummy before it starts to spread and bloom in your whole body. Your body tenses up to brace yourself for the intense amounts of pleasure you know you’re about to feel and a staccato of moans leaves your bitten lips. 
“Don’t fight it, honey. Let yourself have it. You deserve this.” It’s amazing how he can expertly coax you through an expressively powerful climax with his words, he knows exactly what to say to you and what tone to say it in to make you putty in his hands, “know you’ve needed this for so long. S’been so hard, hm? Bet this pussy was aching without someone to take care of it. Let me take care of it, darling. Cum all over my fingers like I know you can.” 
You can almost taste it, it climbs and it climbs, your stomach tensing and your thighs shaking, each firm rub against your g-spot makes you crumble and it swirls and sparks in your tummy. Light tremors turn into full-body shudders when the build-up of pleasure finally explodes like an earthquake. You moan brokenly, your voice cracking as you gasp for air and let yourself feel the pleasure you’ve been missing.  
He talks you through it, leading you through the most powerful orgasm you think you’ve ever had. You instantly feel the tension leave your body with it. He takes away all the pent-up frustration and dissatisfaction with every word and movement of his hand. 
It’s when he keeps going that it begins to border on the painful side of painful pleasure. That sexy concentrated look is back on his face as he pulses his fingers faster inside you with a second wind of determination. 
A pained whine leaves your throat and your hand shoots out to grab his arm. You attempt to tug him away and squirm away from his touch, but he doesn’t relent. He uses his other hand to pin you down and your other hand shoots up to your mouth so the scream that you let out isn’t heard throughout the whole office. 
“Take it. We’ve got to make sure you’re better. Cum again for me.” Your legs shake uncontrollably. You’ve never felt pleasure so intense that it hurts before, and it’s making you feel like your brain has liquified. You fully give in to him, your body submits and you let him play with your body exactly how he wants. 
Before you know it, he’s driven you over the peak again. Your head falls back onto the exam table, thoroughly exhausted. He smiles gently at you, so innocent and nonchalant, as if he didn’t just completely ruin you on his fingers a minute before. His pointer finger brushes against your cheek before his hand cradles your face. 
“You’re all better then, yeah?” His voice is soft and comforting, it fills your tummy with warmth, and you suddenly have the urge to let him talk to you sleep as he holds you right here on the exam table, “think you’re my new favorite patient.” He whispers with a smirk.
He lets you get up and shakily put back on your clothes. And in all honesty, you’re surprised you can walk right now.
He took such good care of you. You naturally feel indebted to him and you start to thank him but he just holds up his hand and stops you with an incredulous look on his face. 
“No need to thank me, darling. Just doing my job.” He assures. “The only thanks I need is you coming back here next time you need my help.” 
After all your stuff is packed and you’re walking towards the door of the exam room, his voice stops you. You turn around to face him and you’re met with his gorgeous face. He wears a gentle smile but teasing eyes. When he speaks you immediately know that his words have promise written between the lines.
“Drive safe, honey. M’looking forward to your next appointment.”
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endlessthxxghts · 3 months
Text
Hungry
Frankie Morales x afab!reader | W/C: 1.7k (drabble)
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Rating: EXPLICIT. MDNI
Summary: You decide to go home on your lunch break. You call to see if your boyfriend can join you.
Content/Warnings: No physical descriptions of reader. No “y/n”. Implied that Frankie and you live together. Porn with a sprinkle of plot. Oral sex (both receiving). Face riding turned 69…Cumming untouched (kind of?). Cum eating. Please do let me know if I missed anything!!!
A/N: HI GUYS I’VE MISSED YOU. I’m on my university campus from 9-5, and I had a particularly rough day, so I went home on my lunch break (which I normally don’t do), and instead of lunch, I did something else. This was that something else. I hope you enjoy.👹
MASTERLIST || NOTIFS BLOG
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He picks up after one ring. “Baby? What’s wrong?” 
You don’t usually call him during your work day—the lab being too hectic even on your lunch break to enjoy anything other than the lunch you packed yourself. 
“Nothing, I just- I miss you,” you tell him softly. 
Today, though…Today is different. You’re exhausted and your other team members are also having a slow day, so you decide to call your boyfriend. You also decide that you deserve lunch off-site: in the comfort of your own home. 
“I miss you, querida,” Frankie says, returning your warmth and gentleness tenfold. 
Gods, his voice. The deep, softness of his voice never fails to make the butterflies flutter in your belly. And also… further below. You can’t help the next words that fall from your mouth. 
“I want you.”
Only then does he realize—you’re not at the lab. He doesn’t hear the hustle and bustle of research going on in the background, he doesn’t even hear the air conditioning that’s always blasting in the break room. He’s called you once while you were on site, and he learned his lesson then. So, seeing you call today prompted him to think there was an emergency. And in his realization—yes, this is very much an emergency, but not the one he was expecting. 
“You’re home, aren’t you?” He asks, really not needing the confirmation but obliges anyway. 
“Yeah,” you say breathily. 
“Do not go anywhere. Be there in ten, baby.”
“Make it five,” you whimper, ending the call, not wanting the formalities of a goodbye, too hung up on your dire need for him to handle hearing his voice without being able to touch him. 
Frankie does make it home in five—taking my forty-five! he calls out to his boss as he walks out with no time for extra conversation. Professionally, that really wouldn’t do, but luckily, he’s always been on the good side of his superior. 
“Querida!” He calls out as he enters the front door. 
As soon as he’s through the door, you’re on him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he drops the keys in his hands to fully engulf you. The kiss is needy, desperate. You can’t help the moans already falling from your lips, and he’s just as eager to swallow them up. You do a mini jump, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he walks you two to your shared bedroom.
As he nears the edge of the bed, you untangle your legs from around him so he can sit down. But as soon as he’s hitting the bed, you’re straddling him once again, licking into his mouth as you grasp at the nape of his neck, your needy center grinding into his hard length. 
Frankie’s lips break from yours, trailing kisses down your jaw, passing your chin, and settling on your neck, nipping and sucking the sweet spots that always have your hips bucking wildly into him, begging for more. He can feel the heat radiating from your center, his cock leaking at the sensation.
However, neither of you really have much time before you need to return to your respective jobs, and Frankie simply needs to eat. 
His fingers meet the hem of your bottoms, pulling them down as you move your body around, allowing them to come down with ease. 
Frankie starts leaning back, his hands trailing back to the meat of your thighs, grabbing them tightly and nudging you up his torso. 
“F-Frankie, what-” you stutter, breathless and mind hazy from your makeout session. 
You’re on your knees now, situated above his shoulders, your gaze looking down into his. “Sit,” is all he tells you. 
“Frankie… we’re both on a clock here,” your voice waivers. Hesitant. When Frankie eats you out, he eats, and most of the time, he’ll continue out of his own pleasure well after however many orgasms he pulls out of you in this way.
“Just gonna make you cum, querida, promise,” he smirks, mischief written all over his face.
Without another word, he grabs your thighs, and forces your entire weight onto him, your thighs immediately clenching in the feeling as his tongue glides through your soaked folds. “Oh- Fuck,” you gasp, the pleasure hitting you all at once. 
You can feel his smirk as your breathing grows heavier and your hips start to move on their own. Realizing what your body’s asking for, Frankie lifts you off of him and urges you to turn around. You don’t understand what for until his hands are guiding yours to grip onto his waist—your torso leaning forward at the movement. 
Oh. 
Oh, you like this. A lot. 
In this angle, your pelvis opens up more for him, and you have more support to be able to freely grind against his face. This was Frankie’s main reason for repositioning you, but he didn’t realize what he just did. You now have complete access to the part of him that’s been throbbing for your attention. 
Slowly, you let one of your hands glide upwards to his belt, the twang of his belt buckle making your mouth drool in response. Frankie pulls away momentarily. “What- what are you doing?” He asks, voice hoarse and utterly aroused at what you’re about to do. 
You smile to yourself at his question. “Just keep eating, baby,” you say, pushing your sex back into his face, his nose nudging a particularly sensitive spot making you moan at the contact. You can feel the way he groans into you, the vibrations sending more slick for him to greedily drink up. 
You finally get his cock free from the restraining khakis, and your pussy flutters at the view. He’s painfully hard, his tip red and precum all over. You put him into your mouth, swirling the head with your tongue to collect everything he’s giving you. You lift off him with a pop, a moan and a so fucking good leaving your mouth before you spit on him—watching his cock twitch as your drool drips down his length. 
You pump his cock a few times to spread the mixture of your spit and his precum down his length. Satisfied, you take him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue, pushing him as far back as you possibly can. Your gag reflex triggers then, your throat constricting around where he’s most sensitive, and he whimpers at the feeling, momentarily pausing his attention on you.
Using your gag to your advantage, you don’t stop bobbing up and down on his length, the sloppiness of it all sending him into a horny spiral. He loves having his mouth on you, but the feel of your mouth on him has his eyes rolling back to his head, his tongue slowing in his strokes as his body buzzes in the pleasure you’re giving him. His hips start fucking up into your mouth, and you moan around him, getting spurred on at his desperation. 
“F-fuck-” he grunts. “Taking me- fuck- taking me so fucking good,” Frankie sighs, head falling back into the mattress. You almost made him forget his task at hand—which you genuinely wouldn’t mind because he’s always putting your pleasure first—but as soon as the fact hits him, oh, he’s going in. 
Frankie grabs onto your waist, forcing your entire center flush against his face as he brings your clit to his mouth, sucking and nipping at it with a calculated intensity—the feeling radiating up your spine and down into your toes—hurtling you towards your orgasm within seconds. His cock slips from your mouth at his action, but right now, you really can’t think about anything else. 
“Oh, yes, Frankie-” you gasp, “fuck, I’m gon- I’m gonna cum, please,” you whine, your cunt grinding wildly into his face. 
“Mmmm,” he grunts. Cum for me, querida, you know he’s telling you. 
Your orgasm is blinding, eyes clamped shut as your mouth mindlessly babbles praises to the man underneath you. “Oh my- oh fuck, you’re so-” you pant, unable to catch your breath at the intensity. “Good God, Frankie,” you whine.
Although you stopped paying attention to his thick member, the way your body convulses above him sends him to his own edge, cum shooting out and landing across his lower tummy, nearly half a centimeter away from splashing your face. You don’t realize this until after your breathing has slowed, your eyes finally peeling open and peering at the pooling milky liquid near his belly button. 
As much as you can in your exhausted state, you pull your head up and dart your tongue out, coating every part of your tongue with his cum, a squeaky little sigh escaping you at the taste of his salty musk. 
“Christ, baby,” you hear him mutter when he feels your tongue tickling across his surface. 
You untangle yourself from his body, repositioning so your head is in alignment with his. “That was fun,” you say casually before pressing a lengthy kiss to his lips, tongue sneaking into his mouth, exchanging each other’s flavor. 
“Yeah? Wanna go for round two?” Frankie asks, a shit-eating grin on his face. 
“Frankie!” You scold, slapping his chest. “We’re on a lunch break—no, we can’t go for round two!” 
He pouts at you, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you into one more kiss before you both have to leave again. As if your colleagues are watching you, both yours and his phone ring right as your lips begin to touch. 
Jumping off the bed, you ignore your bottoms on the floor and run straight to your phone, answering it with your last name. 
“Hey. No rush, but when do you think you’ll be back? Dr. Mowak is ready for your report if you are,” your lab assistant tells you. 
Oh, fuck. 
“Hey, yeah, I’m on my way back now, I accidentally caught up with a last minute… emergency,” you say, a little awkwardly. 
You hear a soft chuckle behind you. You turn around to see Frankie with a boyish grin, winking at you. 
You roll your eyes at him, but the butterflies flutter all the same. 
Or maybe it’s your stomach growling. 
Shit, you’re hungry. 
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If you’d like to see more, check out my masterlist or follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to be updated on my new stories!! Much love to you all, thank you so much for reading and interacting with my silly little delusional self. 🫶🏼🫶🏼
@pedrostories
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httpiastri · 3 months
Text
snowy mountains & hot baths – op81
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you, oscar, and an empty spa can only lead to one thing.
genre: very short smut 😶
pairing: oscar piastri x female reader
warnings: uhhh public sex.... unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it yall!!
author's note: happy valentines day :) wish i had oscar here to celebrate with me... anyway. idk about this one guys 🫠🫠 started out alright but then i hated half of it so i deleted it and rewrote it but it just got worse. and i know that if i don't just post it rn, i will likely procrastinate and never end up posting it at all. yay. hope u enjoy anyway! i also have another oscar fic done that's at least a bit better than this lol.
f1 masterlist
18+ content below, minors do not interact!
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a low groan leaves oscar's lips when he dips his feet in the warm water. he instantly turns around, eyes finding you standing by the door you've just walked through to get to this outdoor area of the spa. he holds his hand out towards you, beckoning for you to step closer.
"it feels so good," he promises, gaze following your every move as you let your robe slide down your arms. his eyes widen when you reveal your newly bought bikini – papaya orange, of course – and a shudder passes through his body at the sight of the tiny material trying it's best to cover you up.
he thanks all the gods he can think of that there's no one else around.
goosebumps grow across your skin now that you're exposed to the sub-zero temperatures, toes curling in the short layer of snow on the deck. you stroll over to him, making sure to let your hips sway a little extra with every step because you know he's watching and you know what he's thinking. the sight of him gulping as his eyes wander up and down your body can only mean one thing.
taking his hand in yours, you let him pull you into the water with him, letting out a content sound when the water envelops your legs and brings the temperature of your body up again. oscar gives your hand a squeeze and leans back, his back hitting the water as he submerged into it. you dive in right after him, making a few strokes beneath the surface before coming up for air again. your hands come up to wipe away the water from your face, before brushing over your hair and tying it up in a messy bun on top of your head.
"this is just what i needed," your boyfriend says, drawing out an agreeing hum from you. it's been a long day – a long week, really – filled to the brim with skiing, hot chocolate drinking, skiing, cable car-rides, and then more skiing. oscar doesn't usually get a lot of time off work, and when he does, he wants to make the most of it. and as his partner, he thinks you should be doing the same, and that's why he's woken you up in the early hours every morning this last week, practically bouncing from how much he aches to go out in the swiss alps yet again.
the hot tub is big enough to swim around in, but oscar makes his way to the side and sits down on the built-in seat, arms stretching out and resting on the edge of the pool. you swim over to him, easily slipping onto his lap and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. oscar tenses up when you sit on him, and you're not surprised by the length already poking up at you – he's just a man, after all – but you decide not to do anything to acknowledge it just yet.
"it's really beautiful here, don't you think?" you ask, looking to your side. the sun has only just set, so the little village isn't completely dark yet. the moon above your heads casts a soft hue over the mountains you've spent all week conquering, stars twinkling among the tops.
"not as beautiful as you, though." there's barely any lightning out here other than the little candles scattered across the floor, but you see the fire in oscar's gaze clearly when you look back at him. he's staring at you like you're the most perfect work of art, the most beautiful thing to ever exist – and your expression matches his, because he truly is your favorite thing to look at in the world. your heart flutters at the contrast between how cute he looks with a few locks of his long fringe curling along his forehead, and how incredibly sexy his body looks with the little droplets of water decorating his muscular chest. he's just stunning.
"you really did a great job with planning and booking all of this, you know," you start. "i may have complained quite a bit when you dragged me out of bed at six am, but... it's all been perfect."
your hands find the space just below his jaw, and it takes all of your strength not to blatantly stare at his thick neck when you feel the muscles under your touch.
"well, perfect except for the fact that my legs are so sore right now."
oscar chuckles at this confession, hands leaving the edge of the pool and dipping into the water instead. "let me help you out with that, then..."
a jolt of electricity shoots down your spine when his palms meet your bare thighs, fingers pressing into the skin and stroking you softly. your eyes flutter closed, loving every second of his massage and growing hotter when his hands make their way further and further up. it doesn't take long before oscar can't hold back anymore, reaching up to press his lips against yours.
you sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself further towards him, your crotch brushing against his as a result. the moan he lets out is so hot that you instinctively begin grinding down against him, wanting to hear more.
oscar gets the hint, but finds himself reaching for your shoulders, holding you back as he leans out of the kiss. your lips chase after him, a frown taking over your face when he doesn't give in. you open your eyes to look at him.
"are you sure... that you want to..." oscar's voice is low but genuine; he knows you aren't a fan of exhibitionism, and that these situations usually only make you uncomfortable.
but the look in your eyes is impossible to misinterpret. "there's no one around..."
he looks around the area once more just to make sure. choosing to go to the spa at 8pm, the exact time when the restaurant at the hotel was the most crowded, was oscar's best idea yet.
he doesn't say anything else. he just grabs the back of your neck, pushing you down to his lips yet again. it's more rushed now, messy kisses pressed against your lips and his tongue swiping across your bottom lip hastily. his other hand caresses all the way down your back, gives your butt a quick squeeze, and then moves to your front instead. his fingers trace the edge of your bikini before dipping inside of it, finding your clit with ease.
your upper body is completely leaning onto him by now, little sounds slipping past your lips as he starts drawing circles onto your already sensitive bud. in no time, he's slipped past your clit, one finger sliding into your core and pumping you a couple of times before being joined by another finger. you can't help but clench around him, exhaling into the kiss.
"please, oscar..." you whine against his lips, and oscar nods, pulling out of you and breaking the kiss. he holds your hips away a little to make space for his hand undoing the knot that holds up his swim trunks, before pulling his dick out of them. he lifts you up, fingers pushing your bikini bottoms to the side but pausing when his tip meets your core. he waits for your nod of consent before finally entering you.
the water helps him glide into you, a throaty moan rumbling from his throat when he bottoms you out. he doesn't give you even a second to adjust, hands on your hips pulling you up before sinking you onto him again.
"fuck," he lets out, throwing his head back when you start to roll your hips against his. "you feel so good..."
you lean forward, forehead resting on the bend of his neck as you bounce up and down on him. your hands move to the back of his head, fingers getting lost in his locks, and it doesn't take long before your movements get sloppier. you gasp when oscar begins thrusting up into you, meeting your downward movements in a steady rhythm.
his grip on your hips grows firmer, rough fingers pressing into your skin and surely leaving marks for tomorrow. he's getting closer, too – you can tell by the string of moans he's letting out in between a bunch of swearwords – and you use your last bit of energy to pick up your pace and help him out. your walls contract around him when you come, and you feel him reach his own high not long after, twitching and shooting into you as you ride out your orgasms.
his hands are more gentle now, brushing up and down your back and following the bumps of your spine. when you finally gain the energy to speak, your words vibrate against his skin. "well, we're never coming back to this spa again." you lean back slightly, looking up at him for the first time in a while. "or the town, for that matter."
his blissed-out eyes meet yours, soft and glossy as he raises his eyebrows. "why's that?"
his flushed cheeks make him look so innocent, but his heaving chest tells another story. "did you not see the cameras?" you question.
"oh, you think we're the first ones to do this here?" you gasp at his wording, splashing some water his way. he laughs. "what, do you really? i reckon this happens here at least once every day. maybe even more."
"oscar!"
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fireflysymphony · 3 months
Note
Oh my god your Aventurine x Bodyguard!Reader so good I have to give you so many praises for that! But I have to ask… if you can may I please hear your thoughts on Aventurine with a Reader that he adores to take with him to the casinos as like a lucky charm but in reality he just absolutely loves to show off that they are partners, if that’s alright please and thank you! I hope you have a wonderful day today!
Aventurine showing off reader
A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! I really enjoyed writing it, and seeing someone else appreciate it makes me really happy. Here are some of my thoughts! I just love this man an unhealthy amount. I hope you enjoy this <3
Word count: 1.6k
Content Warning: GN! Reader, suggestive but mostly a crazy blond and some fluff, mentions of alcohol, not proofread, hope you enjoy <3
Headcanons
Long before the two of you began to date, he’d take you to his casinos with the intention of scamming you out of your money and possibly getting you drunk and taking you home with him later that night.
He got it in his head that it would end up like one of those sexy pornos where once he gambled you out of all your money, he’d seductively lean down and whisper in your ear “All your money’s gone, a shame angel, but let’s have one more round, yeah? If I win again, you’ll have to pay me back with something more… intimate.” And then he’d win and take you home with him to get his “payment.”
It never ended like that though. You were either too smart to gamble with him, or your teary eyed, defeated face once he won for the third time in a row would break his heart in a way he didn’t like or fully understand, so he’d stop himself from sucking you dry of anymore cash. And the next day you would find the money you lost plus some extra back in your bank account. He hoped you never found out that your tears were the only thing to melt his heart in a long time.
If you so much as mentioned not going with him one day, you’re in store for another one of Aventurine’s famous tantrums. This is when the phrase “good luck charm” started getting thrown around. You jokingly told him to get another person who throws themselves at his feet to be his lucky charm, and he lost it.
“No, no, no! It’s you that I want with me, nobody else! You're my good charm, singular! Please, come with me, angel, please!”
You didn't know why because you thought that’s what he was doing anyway since he often canceled your casino dates. In reality though, when you weren’t with him at night, it was because of dangerous work he didn’t need you getting involved in.
Most people who visited the casinos regularly already thought you and Aventurine were dating for multiple reasons. He always had some part of him touching yours whether it be a hand on the small of your back or him leaning on you whenever he was a little tipsy or bored of a game. He never let you pay for anything while you were with him, and despite being a rich man who could definitely afford two cocktails, he’d much rather hold his up to your lips and watch you drink from his glass. Aventurine wouldn’t let anyone approach you, especially if it was someone he had to confront for work that night, and if anyone tried flirting with you, they’d be out of luck, out of money, and out of a life depending on Aventurine’s mood. He didn’t like things that belonged to him being touched or stolen.
Safe to say, most people had pretty good evidence to conclude that you and him were together.
As you can imagine, this only got worse when you became official partners since Aventurine didn’t have to hold anything back. Your seat wasn’t the one next to him anymore, it was in his lap. He didn’t need to hold himself back from kissing you, and conveniently he mostly did it when other people were watching him. Before each round of poker, he’d ask you for a good luck kiss to bless his hand which lasted a little too long for everyone’s— but his— comfort.
Pretty much everyone knew that you weren’t just a good luck charm but a prize for him to show off, and he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon. Anyone who knew what was good for them backed off from trying to pursue you, and those brave souls who didn’t were in for a treat because Aventurine LIKED having them stare…. When he was in a good mood anyway. Bad mood, jealous Aventurine was a different story, but he’s for another day.
“I like it when they look at you, dove.” “But they look at me like you do.” “Exactly. But I’m the only one who gets to have you, pretty thing.”
Right after kisses, his eyes go straight to find the men he knew were into you, wanting to see their disappointed faces. He’ll even let them chat you up before pulling you onto his lap and kissing you. To him, crushing them emotionally was far more entertaining than outright killing them. This only goes for when you’re dating though. As stated before, Aventurine hated the thought of someone taking what he owned, and since you didn’t know you were his yet, he had to dispose of anyone who thought they had a chance.
It hurt him that the only place he could show you off was at the casinos. He owned them, so nobody was going to try to harm you unless they were prepared for the weeks long torture he had in store, not even the IPC spies he knew were around were safe from his wrath. To the IPC, you were nothing more than one of Aventurine’s ordinary flings, and he wouldn’t let anyone see past that facade, even if he wanted to rub his relationship in Topaz or Ratio’s face.
—-
“You always win, so I don’t understand why you need me here every night, wouldn’t you rather bring someone who’s unfamiliar with your tricks to scam?” You asked him one night before the two of you were officially a couple. He took you up to one of the VIP rooms, a few people mingling and chatting over cards around you. The two of you got a couch to yourself, yet Aventurine had an arm around your waist, not allowing an inch of personal space despite the size of the sofa. Aventurine was bored of the easy fish at the casino tonight. The card shark didn’t like his prey to fall too easily unless it was you, but you weren’t interested in losing any more money to him tonight..
“No, I’ve told you before! You’ve never seen me lose before, doll. Isn’t it obvious why? Because you’re lucky!” He answered, taking a sip of his third glass of champagne. He acted a lot more honestly when he was tipsy, his conniving grin never left his lips though, so nobody could tell how serious he was. That was if he let himself get tipsy in front of anyone but you— which he didn’t. You were the sole one who got to hear his slightly slurred speech and, on particularly rough nights, his lack of inhibitions.
“If I’m so “lucky,” why haven’t I beat you yet?” You hummed, shivering at the amount of money he’s coerced you into betting, yet somehow you’re more well off now since you met him than ever before.
“Because you’re my good luck charm, you have to find your own; I’ve sucked you dry of all your lucky, so nobody else can have you.” He waved his hand in the air like it was the most obvious explanation in the world before leaning his head on your shoulder, his glasses sliding down his nose and letting you see his pretty shining eyes. “You’re only mine to have, do you understand that?”
All you could do was sigh and fix his glasses. He was prone to say stuff like this when he was drunk and when he was sober too but it was worse when you had a little alcohol in his veins. Aventurine’s normal flirting was so teasing that you could chalk it up to him being just that, a teasing flirt who did this with everyone, but when he was tipsy or drunk, a serious edge pierced his words, a large contrast from his usual over-the-top teasing. You couldn’t trust that either. “You’re drunk, Aventurine.”
“Maybe so, but you still don’t understand, doll.” He took off his glasses, tossing them next to his empty glass on the table. He laid himself down on your thighs, his head turned away from you to face the rest of the room. When he was normal sober Aventurine, you didn’t take his advances seriously, and when he was drunk, you still didn’t take him seriously. It was annoying! Did he just give up? Was this a bet lost?
Sensing an incoming tantrum you set your hand on his hair, playing with his blond locks. You bit your lip, already regretting the ego boost you were about to give him. “…Now that I think about it: maybe I do have a good luck charm.”
The way he jolted up gave you an idea of where this was going, so you braced yourself for the storm about to hit. Shit, pouting might have been easier to sit through.
“D’awwww! Lovemuffin, do you mean it?! Really?! Say it again! Come on, say it to me again!” He somehow wormed his way onto your lap, poking at your cheek in eagerness. His legs straddled your waist, and everyone in the small quiet space turned their heads to look at you.
“What are you doing? Stop, get off of me! no-no it isn't you!” You shrieked, batting his hands away from your face as you shook your head. Now you really regretted saying anything. “You’re making a scene!”
“Sure it isn’t! Aren’t you just the most adorable thing, such a sweetheart to little ol’ me!~” He threw his arms around you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He took back everything he previously thought. No matter what you were going to be his! “But if I am your lucky charm, I don’t think I’m working. You always lose!”
“Shut up, Aventurine!” You grumbled, hugging him back with a tenderness your words didn’t hold. Was it possible his words weren’t all faked?
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this more fluffy Aventurine post! Whether it be the sexy or scrunkly menace, I hope you enjoy him! <3 thank you to the requester for this idea
Requests are open!
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
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Blips In My Routine
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
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A/N: A slight interlude in the "Get Off My Screen!" Series to keep you guys entertained while I write it's continuation. I apologize that it's taking so long! School's kind of been kicking my ass recently and I've had to focus more on work than my fanfics. Don't worry though, I'll still be writing more Vox content(Lord knows we don't have enough /j) as long as you guys want to see it!
A/N: I love 🥭 Anon's idea and tbh I don't put it beyond Vox to do it either, I'm not sure if this is as good as the other installments but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. Btw, reader is in college so she's somewhere in her mid to late twenties. Happy reading!
You glanced at the ticking clock above the whiteboard.
It was just five more minutes before the bell would ring and free you from this boring lecture.
You fought to keep your eyes open as your gaze wandered back to the teacher's PowerPoint.
You hated this subject the most, not even because of the topic itself.
Rather, the professor could be kind of an old-timey asshole.
Thankfully though, it wasn't all that bad.
Not when you had to deal with an equally irritating digital companion anyhow.
Somehow you'd rather take Vox's bullshit over your professor's-
Speaking of, you both had fallen into a somewhat odd routine in the following months.
From greeting each other when you woke up or went to sleep-
To checking up on the other every so often within the day.
Not to mention spilling gossip when anything remotely interesting happened.
Either on his end or yours.
Like that time you saw someone's skirt snag in their locker door and just rip.
You could only snicker at their panic and shame.
The bitch highkey deserved it anyway.
Vox couldn't stop laughing when you eagerly told him all about it.
He knew you could be vicious if you wanted to.
Even if he was aware how much more inherently kind you were compared to the likes of him.
Sometimes the fact you found his companionship worth maintaining-
Or at least tolerable enough to keep-
Genuinely surprised the tech overlord.
Especially because you'd both been communicating for a little over a year by now.
It was nice interacting with someone else that weren't Velvette or Valentino.
Not that he'd ever openly admit to it.
It wasn't like Vox hadn't seen or heard you either, despite the fact he couldn't directly mess with the microphone or camera on your devices.
Your photos and files had more than enough stuff.
You often left him imagining your reactions and voice whenever the both of you chatted.
After all, most of your interactions were practically texting.
Sometimes you even wondered if Vox was constantly bored to end up finding companionship with you.
Or maybe he was lonely, who knows.
You genuinely couldn't be fucked.
He was an interesting guy and that was all that kind of mattered to you at the moment.
Your notepad window popping up snapped you out of that train of thought.
Glancing over at your laptop screen, the small desktop pet Vox gave you merely sat in the corner pointing at the notepad.
Oh it could do angry emotes too-
A slurry of words started pouring into the blank open text window, you figured Vox was probably having another shitty day.
Geez, who would've thought that hell would actually be absolutely crappy?
Well, let's see what he's complaining about this time...
This man was really typing way faster than you could read-
You were able to garner pretty quick what he was bitching about though.
Even if you kind of found the source of his irritation quite childish and kinda stupid.
"It's so dumb! The fact I can only talk to you with this goddamn thing is driving me insane!"
"Aaaand? What's wrong with the notepad? You also have the desktop companion."
You definitely started calling it that only because Vox was getting pissy that you were referring to it as a 'pet'-
"It can only do so much dollface, it's just glorified texting at this point. Besides, the tiny version of me is just an animated emoji keyboard."
"Well you already mess with my software regardless of what I tell you, what's stopping the great 'Technology Overlord' from hacking my camera and microphone?"
"Haha, very funny doll. Don't you think I would've done it already if I could?"
At this point you kinda just wanted to laugh at the whole situation.
Vox, a demon, one who could control electronics to his every whim-
Or so he claims.
Was being pissy about not being able to talk to you properly.
You couldn't tell if that was supposed to be endearing or hilarious.
He always got worked up over the smallest inconveniences.
You saw it as him being just very observant-
But it could also highkey be from his captain control freak tendencies.
"Then just make an app or something, you'll figure it out. Mess with the software settings or whatever."
That was the last message you wrote before the school bell suddenly rang out loud and clear.
You didn't even read his reply before shutting your laptop down and arranging your belongings.
Soon enough, you were the first one out of the classroom and more than ready to go home.
Vox knew you'd shut down your laptop after he got hit with his custom Voxtech screensaver.
Similarly to the wallpaper, he'd changed your screensaver to something more on brand.
While he did take your suggestion into account, a part of him wondered why he didn't bother trying in the first place.
But given the issues with him trying to access the built-in camera and microphone-
Vox felt a little concerned that modifying your devices too much could corrupt them.
That alongside all of your files and the data you had stored.
Wait...
Concern?!
He didn't actually care about your shit did he?
Oh fuck it!
He'll do whatever he wants to!
He was still careful not to really change much, he knows how annoying file corruption is and he didn't want to actually damage your data in case it had stuff you needed.
You weren't surprised that he'd taken your words literally-
You noticed a peculiar looking app appeared on all of your devices when you had arrived home.
That's a really fancy looking V design, was this Vox's doing?
Upon opening the app, you were greeted to a slightly odd looking interface.
It looked kind of like a more... sci-fi-esque styled chat room?
You wanted to say it lowkey looked like an Omegle room-
Before you could really nitpick at the design though, a text notification popped up on your phone.
You had just set everything up too, it seems like it came from the new app.
"Testing, testing. Are you getting this (Y/N)?"
To say you were amazed at what Vox had done was an understatement.
He was able to do so much in just so little time-
Just- how???
Oh, right- you should probably reply to that-
"Yeah yeah, I gotchu."
"Fucking finally! Working around your firewalls and antivirus was an absolute nightmare!"
Aaaaaaaand here came the usual ranting and bitching-
You just threw your phone on the bed and left to take a shower and freshen up while he kept at it.
Vox was actually quite proud he got the app to work.
Especially without affecting the existing system on your computer much.
If anything, it wasn't any different from the games or social media applications that already existed on your computer.
Granted, when he first booted the app to try it- the darn thing kept crashing and glitching.
But that was easily and swiftly dealt with.
Well, after much frustration and screaming but yes- taken care of.
By the time you came back, you saw an animated version of your wallpaper appear windowed in the app.
Right... that was supposed to be his face.
"Hello? (Y/N)? Can you hear me?"
What-
What the fucking FUCK-
Apparently, the thing you thought that was just a gif or an emoticon was actually a livestream of Vox's face.
And that was how he sounded like?
Okay that seemed pretty on brand for a telecasting television now that you think about it-
But how the hell did he manage to do this-
"Vox?! What the hell!"
You yelled out in retaliation, only growing more confused when Vox didn't reply or just kept repeating if you could hear him.
So he couldn't hear you, but he found a way to sort of project himself into your device.
What kind of upside-down thing is this?
Picking up the phone, you quickly used the chat-box to reply.
"I can hear you, but I don't think you can hear me?"
Vox just audibly cursed from what you could guess was frustration, staying silent and presumably typing out a reply.
Just how long had he been trying to fix this problem?
"I can't access your cameras or microphone whatever I do dollface, this was my last resort."
Seeing his live reactions allowed you to notice the genuine frustration and exasperation he had with the situation.
It kind of made you feel a little guilty for just brushing him off all the time now.
You always thought it was quite... old-timey for Vox to want to talk to you face to face.
Hold a "proper" conversation as he put it.
But maybe that was just because he grew that fond of your company.
Geez, what a sap.
"It's fine dude, I'm glad you made a specially designated space for our conversations though. My notes were starting to get cluttered with our conversations stuck in there with my school stuff anyway."
You could swear the small smile you saw on his face made saying all that worth it.
There really wasn't any reason for you two to switch mediums, but the new app wasn't unwelcome.
You were really starting to care more about this dumb TV head.
As you and Vox went back into comfortable regular conversation, you found solace as both you and your companion once again fell back into the odd routine you grew used to.
Come morning however, you were seriously reconsidering giving Vox the idea about making that custom application.
It was a stupidly large can of worms that you didn't even realize existed-
Notification after notification, you wondered just how much time the technology demon had on his hands to constantly bother you.
"Vox, I know you're happy about your app but can you stop spam sending me memes for five seconds?"
"Eh, not feeling it."
"Go to hell you dumb picturebox."
"Already here dollface, already here."
You facepalmed.
What an idiot.
Well, he was your idiot.
A/N: I'm leaning towards this being more than a just friends thing, dunno if I'll make it romantic or not in the continuation but I'd reckon that Vox and reader would get pretty close by now sooooo hahaha have fun y'all :D
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facefullofsadness · 3 months
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HII SORRY IDK IF REQS R ON OR OFF BUT CAN I REQ GUITARIST DOM NEIGHBOUR YUNJIN X NERD SUB Y/N (FEM)
first of all, yes reqs are open dw. second, ANON IM OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT GRRR FOAMING AT THE MOUTH
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content - dom guitarist neighbor!yunjin x nerd sub!y/n (written like "studious nerd" not "loser nerd" like in the sakura fic), smut (rough sex, fingering, choking, degradation, mommy kink, edging)
wc - 1652
a/n - ffos stop writing rockstar!yunjin smut challenge (difficulty: impossible). and when I do a rockstar!au series w a bunch of diff idols just fucking y/n brainless, then what? bc look at the material, rockstar winter, giselle, hanni, yunjin, wendy, phew, I'm dizzy.
all you want to do is study or relax, but yunjin has her own agenda.
I imagine you're some kind of stem or pre-med major where ur head is always buried in books, trying to study and memorize and re-memorize and review all this fucking material. ur always preoccupied with your studies that when u finally get that moment to rest, you really bask in the peace of silence after a long day.
but of course, you can never have good things. bc as soon as you lay back on your couch, ur favorite snack next to you and putting your comfort show on the tv, you hear music blasting from your neighbor. the melody u conclude being an arctic monkeys song (taste jennifer! listen to do I wanna know for immersion :)) which you would enjoy on any other day, if not for the fact that you were trying to relax and NOT feel the vibrations of the electric guitar from next door. that being said, this neighbor had been practicing music EVERY DAY for the past few weeks.
it drove u insane. you have never tried to confront ur neighbor bc you hoped they would stop on their own (maybe due to social anxiety too but that's neither here nor there), but after WEEKS of this perpetual migraine, you had no choice.
building up the courage to walk over to their door and proceeding to practically pound on it, music louder now that you were outside their apartment. you were fully prepared to go ape-shit on the menace that had been tormenting your serenity for so long. but you didn't prepare for them to be hot?!
the music stopping after 3 rounds of your aggressive knocking and finally a red-haired sexy ass woman swung open the door fully, guitar slung on her back and tatted arms crossed, wearing black tattered clothes, the woman towering over you as she leaned forward, looking up at her eyebrow and septum piercings.
you gulped nervously, not expecting such a sight, the ginger raising an eyebrow at you curiously.
"what do you want?" she'd ask annoyedly.
her tone pissed you off and snapped u out of your trance, "for you to lower your music or stop playing."
bold, she thought.
"why should I?" the woman leaned against her door frame, a smirk tugging at her lips.
you huff out frustratingly, "because you've been blasting your music for the past few weeks and I'm sick and tired of it, it gives me a headache and you have no respect."
she scoffs, "aw, is my princess missing out on her beauty sleep?"
you close ur eyes and sigh, regaining urself so you wouldn't blow up, then looking up at the girl's eyes, "can you PLEASE lower the music at least?"
the ginger uncrosses her arms and leans forward again, one hand on the door frame and another gesturing at you, "do I get anything in return for being such a good girl for you?"
u feel chills go down your spine at her words and your cheeks heat up. the sound of her deep chuckle makes you look away.
"fuck you're cute, what's your name?" she tilts her head to the side.
"y-y/n."
"I've never seen you around y/n. you're telling me I've been living next to an absolute babe for the past few months and I didn't know? can't be having that."
your eyes dart anywhere else before you clear your throat, "anyway, thank you, I'll get going now."
"ah, ah, ah, not so fast y/n-ie. I haven't even told you my name yet!" you feel a hand snatch your wrist and pull you back, your body falling into hers.
you look up at the red-haired neighbor, "it's yunjin, jennifer to friends, but you can moan mommy to me."
you scream internally and feel your heartbeat racing. it'd be so fucking cringe to hear it if anyone else said it, but something about the way jen held you and looked at you like her next meal made your lower stomach feel on fire.
"do you wanna know how talented guitarists are with their fingers?" her naughty half-lidded gaze trailed the features of your face, looking so innocent to her, with your large black framed glasses and wide eyes.
"you're disgusting and a pervert miss jennifer," you say, trying to cover up your attraction to her and the situation (failing btw).
you try to pull away from her grasp, her strong hands gripping your arms tighter and holding you close, her face coming closer to yours, "oh please, don't lie and tell me you don't wanna fuck me."
"you really don't have any respect do you?"
"and where was your respect? came pounding on my door, demanding whatever bullshit you just said, didn't even ask me for my name miss neighbor!" a cocky smile spreading on yunjin's face.
"well I apologize but it should be common sense to not blast your music for the entire 5th floor to hear," you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in her hold.
"you look even better when you're angry, maybe I should piss you off some more."
god she pissed you off so much, it's unfortunate the girl was really fucking hot.
"I'm not pissed," you lied.
"no? what are you then? horny?" the audacity really.
you roll your eyes, "can I go?"
jen gives you an annoyingly smug expression and shakes her head left to right before pulling you into her place, shutting the door behind you, and pinning you to it.
"you may not be horny, which I don't believe, but I am now."
her grip leaves your arms and trails your sides. you let out a heavy sigh but try to hold your composure.
"hm? you're not pushing me away? does that mean I'm right?"
she chuckles lowly next to your ear, her greedy hands slipping under your sweatshirt and rubbing the skin.
"sh-shut up," you mumble, turning your head away from her face in your neck, her mouth leaving hot breaths and wet kisses across it.
her calloused fingertips tap against your waist and travel higher, "no bra? was your intention to get fucked so I could change my mind?"
she's so vulgar, like it gives you the ick, but she feels so good, you ignore the bullshit spilling from her lips.
she feels up your stomach and places each hand on your boobs, kneading them eagerly and breathing hard on your neck. you bite your lip to prevent any noise from escaping your mouth. you knew it was wrong, you knew it was dirty, but you knew it felt too good to wanna stop.
"c'mon princess, let it out for me," yunjin would whisper against your skin, her thumbs circling your hard nipples.
your hands clutch her bare shoulders as you feel her smile against your jaw. you struggle hard to hold back a whine as she pushes you into the door using her warm body.
"I have nothing to let out for you," lying again.
"I guess I just have to tear it out from you then," the guitarist says before taking her hands out from under your sweatshirt and grabbing you by the thighs, lifting you up and carrying you to her room.
your body falls against the plush mattress and you watch as the woman slings her guitar off her shoulders, crawling on the bed towards you.
"you may be able to resist how good it feels now, but not after I have my way with you... I won't be the one making so much noise after all."
oh and she truly kept her word.
yunjin's right hand fingers were plunged deep inside your pussy, thrusting in and out at unfathomable speed, while her left hand fingers were in your mouth, shoving them down your throat and making you gag.
your shorts and panties were somewhere lost in her room and if your vision wasn't blurred with tears, you swear your clothes hang from one of the guitars she had displayed on the wall. you sat with your legs wide open on jen's lap, your back against the headboard for stability, tongue sticking out so her fingers can reach deeper into your mouth.
all you could make out were the choking noises coming from your throat and muffled moaning conjoined with it. your cunt was on fire due to the pace at which her digits were ramming into you. your eyes were rolled back and your thighs trembled.
"you sick fuck, you're really enjoying this you know? I know you are, I know you love how rough I'm treating you. who would've known some lowly nerd like you would be into such freaky shit."
she'd pull the fingers in your throat out which caused you to release a deep groan, but return her hand to your neck, squeezing and pinning you against the headboard.
"m-mommy..." you'd desperately whimper out.
a sick chuckle leaves her throat hearing you call her the title she mentioned earlier.
"you may be a whore but you're good at following directions, aren't you princess?" she sinisterly smiles at your fucked out expression, pulling her fingers all the way out to slam them in again, using four digits to plunge into your gushing cunt.
your vision blurs completely as you feel your high coming quick. your back arches off of the wall and your body melts into yunjin's hold.
"cumming already? so sensitive, I don't wanna end it yet," she immediately retracts her hand from your pulsing core.
you whine desperately at the loss of contact and jennifer's grip on your neck tightens.
"listen here little slut, I barely even started. you're going to hold out until I have my way with you, got it?"
let's just say you're not the neighbor making the noise complaints in the next few hours (days? weeks? yunjin realllyyyy liked you).
a/n - guitarists' finger dexterity is no joke (I play guitar so someone plsss hmu :.) aka huh yunjin hit my line im begging you)
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