#his hands . they are so long. his legs are so thin. what is with that wierd shirt thing.

[chaldeanu]

afternoon ノ dr.ratio . fem!reader

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 4.7k — vague description of comfy clothes with open buttons and lace ノ either early in the relationship or unspecified BUT with feelings — reader is just visiting ratio in his home ノ oral . both receiving ノ long foreplay . fingering ノ it is so messy and domestic ノ doing it raw . cumming inside ノ sappy and sweet dialogues here and there ノ love confessions during a rough fucking session yum! ノ fluff . comfort . smut — the full course :)

the golden rays of the afternoon sun filter through the linen drapes, casting a warm, ethereal glow upon the house.

the classy furniture and one rug, woven with intricate patterns and vibrant hues, add charm to the overall rather minimalistic interior. throughout the room, various relics and books, both old and freshly published, infuse the space with a sense of elegancy.

veritas ratio thinks you fit the imagery perfectly, finding you exactly where he expected you to be — on the plush cushions on the sofa, adorned with rich fabrics and delicate embroidery, beckoning to sink into their soft embrace. the gilded mirror reverses the soft light, casting a golden glitter on the place where you sit.

you notice him in the reflection before you turn to face him. he looks magnificent with that charming smile of his.

there is something about your appearance that catches his eyes too — perhaps the way the homey clothing falls over your lap or the loosely open buttons that bring attention to your chest? or maybe it’s the lace that hugs your curves.

whatever it is, the fact is that he has always thought you beautiful, even though he rarely compliments anyone. and now you appreciate the peaceful afternoon in his living room as if it was your own.

“hi… how’s work?” you ask to start the conversation.

“work? challenging. however, i would not engage in it if it were overly facile. i enjoy mental stimulation.” his voice sounds proud yet elegant, his figure confident. he stands up straight as a candle, while the back of his hand is close to his chin. appearing more like a statue than a human being.

“mhm… taking a break, then? to clear your mind?”

“yes, indeed. there is only one thing that can help me relax at this hour… that one activity i dearly love when time is in abundance…” his grin is soft and smug as he walks closer.

his approach does not scare you — in fact, it is rather endearing.

enough time for you to put down the book you were reading before he leans against the headrest and asks for your hand.

the contact makes you embarrassed. veritas ratio keeps smiling and leaves a sweet peck on your knuckles. another one on your wrist. and then on your forearm, travelling up along your body.

before you realise, he is already kissing you passionately and finds a way to touch your waist under the comfy clothes, tickling and teasing the skin. when it comes to your attitude, you get shy when he touches you like that — a contrast to his unwavering demeanour, how easily you sway under his confidence.

as his hands trail down, caressing you in sensitive spots and brushing against your thighs, his lips never stop tasting yours, occasionally drawing little patterns along your neck.

he likes you, loves you in some ways even, though it would require another page of explanations — sometimes he just wishes to make sure you know of his fondness, while using you to get rid of the stress that occupies his brain.

“may i touch you? will you spread your legs for me?” he murmurs with that haughty smile of his.

it feels weirdly empowering to hear him say something like that, especially knowing he isn’t used to asking others such questions. you do as he asked, letting veritas’ long fingers slip past the thin layers of fabrics.

you shiver with delight and anticipation as his cool digits press firmly onto your burning flesh. his palm shifts carefully, just barely, testing out what his moves have on you. his other one is resting on your chest, pressing your body deeper into the sofa and holding it still.

in no time, one finger parts your pussy apart and penetrates you in the most careful manner possible — it’s gentle, almost too cautious to be real, ensuring that he’s not setting a pace your body cannot match until you’re warm and wet.

“mmh… that’s an unusual way to rest from work. you’re still thinking too much, you know?” you say with a dreamy sigh, starting to enjoy all these little sparks he extracts from your insides.

veritas chuckles.

“indeed, i am. however, my thoughts now are focused solely upon pleasing you,” he answers. “i must say… i prefer this state of mind.”

you moan softly, but immediately feel ashamed of your reaction, as if it were inappropriate for such sounds to be voiced. veritas looks pleased, though, watching with intent as his digit slides further into your core, easier. you wish you could reach out to touch him in return, but he’s sitting upright and away from your needy hands — so you resort to hugging a pillow close to your chest.

there is a sizable tent forming in his trousers and you wonder if he will allow you to taste him later.

the idea is so exciting and your inner walls squeeze his digit as it sinks with each slow thrust. the firm tip of his thumb rubs gentle circles on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure up your nerves. nothing gets past his cautious eyes. he peers at you intently, drinking in the sight of your squirming form.

instead of adding another digit, he lowers himself down the couch and parts your knees even wider, giving his head room between your legs.

the feeling of his soft, slick tongue slipping over your glistening pussy is heavenly, and your grip on the pillow tightens, as the motions become more demanding, exploring your folds and the area around your opening. his finger continues the agonisingly steady rhythm, guiding you into the bliss.

each flick of his wet muscle has your breathing speed up a notch. veritas doesn’t rush things though. he’s well aware of every move he makes and the impact it has on you — yet you can tell there is something about him that stays collected as he continues.

even through the haze of your lust, you sense that he’s trying to figure out if there are more ways in which he could satisfy you.

just when you think the stimulation will be enough to get you there in a few moments, his hands retreat and his mouth latches onto your sensitive bundle of nerves, causing the ecstasy to arrive immediately. the unexpected sensation has you cry out, and clamp your thighs around his head for a moment before forcing them back open again. he continues as if nothing happened and slowly coaxes a wave of arousal, swallowing hungrily as it spills onto his face. he does not cease his actions, not until your entire being trembles with release.

withdrawing reluctantly, he licks his lips before giving you one final, sweet peck on your slit, listening to your hiccups. then he rests his head against your lap and looks up with a smirk.

“given the look on your face,“ he comments before reaching for the wipes from under the coffee table and cleaning the mess off your folds and from his chin, “this was far more beneficial than i anticipated…”

“let me touch you too…” you whine weakly, still coming down to your senses, each caress of his palm on your inner thigh making you bounce.

pondering over your sweet plea for a moment, he moves up until straddling your chest, his muscular legs on each side of your frame and his pants in front of your face. the view makes your body tremble in excitement. working on opening his slacks, he keeps the eye contact with you, the amber of his irises warmly burning onto your face.

his cock springs out and slaps lightly against your cheek, his hips inching further down. you immediately grasp the opportunity to swirl your tongue around the tip and lap at the hot flesh eagerly.

not to waste any more time with what’s right before you, you start sucking until you hear a soft chuckle from him.

“quite lovely, this sight of yours.”

your lips pop around the hard girth and you smile while panting, his hand petting your head gently.

“hmm… you can use my mouth, if you want to,” with an adorable giggle, you kiss the glossy head and pump the base lazily with your fist.

his eyes light up at that idea as he slides his shaft more down your throat, making you groan with effort as you struggle to keep up without gagging.

the burning ache of your jaw, combined with his quiet praise, is enough to light the fire in your own core again, your fists clasping around his hips for support as he fucks your mouth in shallow thrusts.

“i would prefer not to make you uncomfortable. this is enough…” he says with a dark timbre in his voice, staring right into your teary eyes.

unable to speak, you only take him deeper, his length tapping at the back of your throat and catching him by a surprise. breathlessly, but no less excited, he smiles and gets the hint that you wish to continue.

“very well then,” he begins to buck his hips, working his way to a better angle, taking care to not go too rough.

your nose bumps against his underbelly from time to time as he eases further. it’s an odd yet pleasurable mix of being choked and suffocating, but it’s the sight of him that’s driving you insane — someone who’s done everything with perfection is now panting above you, a peachy tint of blush on his face as he gets hot.

it doesn’t take much to bring him close to the edge — perhaps it’s been too long since he got some relief, or perhaps it’s your performance that impresses him. either way, it feels wonderful to witness how much he’s enjoying it, and even more, when silent moan slips down his tongue and he stills your head with his cock buried in your mouth.

it takes all of his endurance and patience to refuse to cum, the damp warmth of your throat and mixed saliva with his precum teasing too much out of him. especially when it runs past your lips in a single drop as you cough lightly…

slowly pulling out, veritas holds the head of his still hard dick to your face, stroking himself to ease the strain and the need for release. you blink innocently while he smears the drool around your mouth and cheeks, collecting some at his fingertips to let you suck them clean.

“mhm… very good,” he sighs. “i would ask for more from you… there are plenty of other things we could explore together, in case you are willing.”

he quickly kisses your forehead as you hum happily, nodding and agreeing.

“i will get you water, wait a moment.” he helps you to sit up.

when you drink from the glass he brought, veritas watches with a smile as if he were proud to see you gulp it down, waiting for you to finish.

“will you stay with me overnight? i would love to feel you close during sleep,” he asks with an unexpected, yet honest tenderness in his tone.

it makes your heart race to know that he’d want such closeness with you. you are about to give in when he continues.

“well, you know me — i never ask unless i need something. if you have anything planned, i can take you to your place instead… that is, if you are comfortable with that,” his words trail off quietly.

the last drops of water trickle down your throat and you cough once more to get rid of the sticky residue from the insides of your cheeks, but then you smile at him, flushed and glowing.

“of course i want to… i’ve been missing you quite a lot lately, you know?” you purr at him, cradling his face in your arms as you shift closer.

a pair of sharp brows quirks up with interest. the amber of his eyes shines in golden hues of the afternoon and you swear you can hear him chuckle softly. suddenly, the couch seems warmer, but it’s not from the thin rays of the sun that peek from behind the curtains.

“what an interesting reply. you cannot hide it from me anymore… your yearning,” he notes confidently.

“neither do you.” you point out.

at that, he flips you flat over his lap, your tummy resting on the sofa while your ass perks up nicely right under his hands. a firm slap on your butt has you yelping in surprise.

“true… it appears i cannot, though that was not the answer i was looking for, dear.”

the little squeaks you made only help his palm to fall more freely, spanking you like that — it meets your flesh again gently, playfully even, but he allows the sting to linger this time.

but he does not relish in granting you pain, even if so brief, so his fingers slide down between your legs again.

he can feel that you are still wet from your earlier orgasm — yet there is something in the way his touch makes you shiver, his deft digits trailing along your heated, slick skin, that makes him more eager to get you squirm in his hold again.

“what a marvellous thing you are… just where i want you to be.” he coos.

in a blink of an eye, you find yourself pressed against the embroidered cushions, your clothes once more doing absolutely nothing to cover you up when they get pulled to the side. all you can do is to cry out when his thumb slides inside and he starts circling your clit with his index.

“fuck!” you pant in disbelief, his clever digits setting the perfect tempo, slipping in and out easily while rubbing your sensitive button.

veritas doesn’t utter a word — he seems to be studying the way your body reacts to his movements, gauging your every gasp and twitch. when he finds a pattern that makes you moan louder and cling to the fabric, he does not stop until your pleasure bursts in its peak.

there is no break for you — he uses your thighs to grind his cock into full hardness again, enjoying the feeling of your velvety walls hugging his thumb.

then it stops abruptly, as he’s pulling out with a satisfied grunt.

“would you allow me to feel you in a different manner?” he asks with his chin on your shoulder and his breath ghosting against your neck.

he leans down and presses another kiss just below your ear, his teeth grazing on your sensitive skin, followed by his lips moving down your nape, his tongue licking and tasting as he goes.

“it will certainly take all my remaining energy to make this day unforgettable for you. i truly hope that you will forgive my boldness in that matter,” his whispers travel through the waves of your senses.

there is no strength left within you to lift your head or talk — the impression of his hands gliding over your flesh, massaging your back before sliding lower to cup your ass is maddening. your lips part in a soft groan of pleasure when you feel his naked erection pressing in between your cheeks, sliding languidly between your folds.

“may i?” his voice is tight, like his patience has run thin as he pushes the tip in just a few inches.

you whine helplessly, rutting against the pillows and the couch, desperately seeking friction. you can barely breathe properly, trying to speak while he slides deeper, the pressure of him stretching you against your limit already making you squirm.

“yes, please… f-feels amazing.”

without wasting any more time, veritas draws his hips back only to drive himself in and to pin your body onto the sofa with his weight. it is overwhelming, he fills you up just right, your body convulsing as he brushes a particularly sensitive spot.

there are no more coherent thoughts from you. you cannot help but keen in pure delight, clawing the cushion, his hands resting on your hips.

the first few strokes are slow and shallow, allowing you to ease into the new sensation and enjoy his manly frame surrounding you. he does not miss a single beat — it takes him mere seconds to realise you will probably bruise with his forceful grip on your body, and he backs off to hover over you again, leaving your backside exposed.

“ouch, thanks.” you gasp out in relief, freed from his strength, a moment later asking shakily. “you’re doing alright?”

“ah, well. i cannot complain… in fact, i would appreciate more of this tight heat around my cock… and i can surely fulfil your wishes as well,” he promises, his thrusts picking up the pace.

it is almost overbearing with how rough he treats you now, your clenching pussy spurring him on as he pounds you mercilessly. you squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip, while he forces you to accept each swift pump of his girth until you lose yourself.

“should i be gentler? make it more bearable for you?”

“no… really,” you murmur. “fuck me until you are content. please…” you whimper.

your heart is about to jump out of your chest as it thrums against the upholstery. veritas is right behind you, his grip returning on your hips, pulling you backwards each time he bucks his hips forward.

he’s much more demanding now, taking everything he wants from your body as he slams himself in and out with desire, fucking you faster and harder, yet his face shows nothing more than serenity as he continues, completely composed as his pelvis snaps against your backside.

he doesn’t respond, too focused on satisfying his need as he bounces your butt. the tension is rising in you with every stroke, as you bury your face into the pillows and drown your sobs into it.

veritas pushes in as deep as he can go, before slowing down until he comes to a stop, nestled comfortably inside of you.

his chest rests against your back and he finally moves his arms, wrapping them around you from above, pulling you close. you try to turn your head to see his face, but he won’t let you, placing soft kisses along your hairline instead.

“you should get used to it by now. i want you to remember the feeling of me inside of you… for quite some time, at least. besides, we both know you prefer this position, don’t you?” his voice is warm as he speaks in a whisper.

“i love this,” you answer with a struggle. “ngh… you make me so happy,” you add, nuzzling the pillow with a fire dancing on your cheeks.

a rich chuckle resonates in his chest. he lies perfectly still for a while, his length throbbing against your core and bringing a strange comfort with it — in moments like this, it is almost hard to believe he could be capable of being mean.

just when you think you’re getting drowsy, he presses another sweet kiss against the crook of your neck.

“i am delighted to hear that.” he shifts, his tip nudging your inner walls once again and making you whimper. “i do hope i am doing well in treating you appropriately, though. if there is anything you wish for, tell me.”

“well… perhaps you could move.” you wiggle your bum a bit, brushing your swollen core against him.

the sound of his laugh is music to your ears, especially as his gentle hand pulls away to take a firm hold of your butt and starts caressing the supple flesh.

“alright.”

with deliciously slow motions, he rocks his hips forward and back. the slapping sound of his skin against yours growing in volume, despite your own wailing. incredibly tight and sensitive in the cage of his arms — you yield.

“want you… please, yes…” your moans seem to spur him on even more.

veritas pulls back only to snap his hips into you in one strong thrust, the base of his thick girth crowding you entirely, your arousal providing more than enough slick to take him in. your thighs quiver with every stroke, but you feel delirious as you eagerly take whatever he decides to give.

a quiet mewl escapes your lips when he reaches an angle that allows him to rub his shaft right on all the sensitive spots — the sensual massage makes you weak and unable to form words.

the other hand is resting on your nape, keeping your face planted firmly into the pillows. the gentle hum of his voice only adds fuel to the fire igniting deep within your loins, but you can’t deny the pleasure you derive from listening to his ranting, his velvety tone vibrating in his throat.

“hmph, and you shall have me…”

it is possible to tell, even through your pleasured haze, that you have started to satisfy his needs — your tight, soaked cunt gripping him in a way that has him craving for the finale.

he places his lips next to your ear and sighs before his next words.

“i cannot be lenient with you… it seems i really am attracted to that naive individual whose actions brought us to this very desperate situation.”

this makes your heart flutter with affection towards him, yet you do not move. his tender touch and loving words, however, are enough to make you swoon as he keeps speaking, his eyes falling half-lidded.

“this is not the first time i found myself thinking about how beautiful you look while lost in passion. and i really, really would like to help you to come undone. soon.”

the last thing he says before focusing solely on driving his hips flush against yours.

each long thrust is paired with a grunt from him as he rams in and out of your abused hole, your body trapped under him as you lay limp against the plush sofa, while he pins you down.

you feel him everywhere, his hands groping you wherever he finds space between the pillows, his cock pumping relentlessly between your legs as his lower abdomen rolls smoothly against your butt.

you try to suppress your wailing, but a choked moan still slips from between your lips. his chin resting on your shoulder while his cheek rests on your head, close, almost like cuddling. your legs are already shaking, the sensation is so overwhelming that it brings tears to your eyes, your clenching pussy driving him absolutely crazy, the muscles spasming around him forcing his eyelids shut as he begins to breathe heavily.

veritas drops his voice an octave, whispering against your hair as he keeps up the fast pace, not giving you time to recover. he’s close too — your whole body trembles beneath his weight.

“yes, come on… cum for me,” he says with a raw, husky tone.

without the support of the pillows, your forehead sinks into the sofa and you feel him curl his fingers in your hair. he tugs softly at the locks as he holds onto you and uses his other hand to keep you steady for him.

there is no way for you to prevent your legs from twitching violently as the wave hits you at full force, your entire frame shuddering while he fucks you through your release.

his movements get jerkier with each thrust, but he does not pull out to spill onto your skin — instead he rides your high while chasing his own until he stiffens, releasing himself deep into you with a groan.

he collapses on your back, panting heavily as he covers you completely. the room is spinning as he drifts in his pleasure, his palms roaming across your body while you feel your toes going numb, the muscles of your pelvic floor throbbing painfully.

veritas doesn’t seem to pay any mind to the mess you’re both lying in — as long as he stays inside you, he cares not what happens to the couch, it shouldn’t be that bad. his breathing is shallow as he peppers soft kisses over your neck and shoulders before moving up your nape to nuzzle your hair.

his arms encircle your waist, pulling you close, his chest against your back. your head is dizzy, and the room seems to have gone dark as your lids drop down.

“hey, sleepyhead. are you okay?” veritas mutters when you shift slightly beneath him.

you hum quietly, too spent to talk yet, and wrap your hands around his wrists to stop him from sliding them any further than they already have. he presses a soft kiss into your temple and turns your head sideways.

his fingertips brush along the line of your neck before settling against your skin, rubbing tiny circles. you take a few breaths before lifting your lashes to find yourself staring straight at veritas’ face — he is watching you all the same with soft eyes and hot flush on his cheeks.

“did i hurt you?” he whispers, concern showing clearly in his voice.

you shake your head gently. he doesn’t let you speak yet, his pads continuing their path downwards along your spine until he stops with one palm against your lower back, soothing the quivering muscles.

“it was intense for you,” he states rather than asking.

a shiver runs through your body. veritas gives you a warm smile and slowly eases himself from your battered cunt, a squelch following the action and making you both laugh softly.

“how do you feel? better now?” you ask once your thoughts become clear again, looking at him as he props himself up to clean the mess, again.

“a lot, actually.” he responds. he gets a bit flustered when your gaze stays fixed on him. “and i apologise for my rough behaviour. you know i wouldn’t dare to—”

“i enjoyed it. a lot, too,” you interrupt him mid-sentence, though with your weak voice it was more of his mercy to pause to let you talk.

“really?” he looks surprised, incredulous.

“i always have… enjoyed everything you have done to me,” you tell him in all honesty and sigh softly, your eyes flickering up and meeting his as your body sluggishly turns to the side. “you’re just very considerate in bed. the opposite of selfish. you put me first every time, and that makes me happy,” you smile through tired expression.

veritas purses his lips. instead of answering immediately to your unexpected confession — that made him quite flustered, which he wouldn’t like to admit — he focuses on wiping you clean from the slick mix of essences leaking out of you and running down your legs, while humming thoughtfully.

you bite your lip, staying silent. your hand finds its place on his thigh, resting there in a calming manner, his leg trembling under your touch.

when he speaks again, it is nothing more than a whisper.

“i am pleased to hear that you’ve noticed,” he says with a total composure laced in his words, his fingers holding a bunch of tissues between the two of you.

you hum contently, taking his free hand into yours and raising it to your lips, planting soft, little kisses on the back of his palm, trailing his knuckles and then the sides of his wrist.

you can tell he is stunned, but doesn’t seem to mind, or show any sign of displeasure. he returns to his original task after a second, carefully cleaning you before standing up and fixing his pants, placing a loving kiss on your cheek and excusing himself to make some tea for you to drink, since it will soon be dinnertime.

he goes back into the kitchen while you lie undressed on his couch, your heartbeat finally starting to calm down. through the high of satisfation and tiredness, you notice the details on the rug, small indents in the threads where the coffee table was placed before. and the golden embossing slightly worn from the covers of the books he’s reading, probably from the touch of his pads.

you like this place, it feels like your home too.

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . author’s note ノ if i missed any mistakes, i will cry, editing this took years off my life. BUT i really hope it was sweet and worth reading <3 i personally think this is my new favourite fic of mine, i got too emotional writing and fixing it :’) but i love this man so so much — so it was worth it!

#writing ノ #dr ratio x you #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio smut #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #star rail x you #star rail x reader #star rail smut #fem reader #dr. ratio x you #dr. ratio x reader #dr. ratio smut

[jayssluttywife]

Academic Rivals: An Unlocked Drawer| p.sh rival!reader x rival!sunghoon

request>> its a bit long but tysm(!) to the anon who sent it, i was planning on smth for hoon but tysm for the idea<3

authors note>> ik i haven't posted in a while but somehow we gained another 100 followers overnight?! guys tysmmmm<3

minors do NOT read or interact (please)

"your grades have dropped drastically, I thought you were better than that", your teacher scolded. "I really want to help you so" you looked curious as your teacher stopped talking. "I got you a tutor, I think you know him". She walks toward the door revealing the presence of one and only,

Park Sunghoon.

He had a big smirk, entering the room and facing you. Your teacher thins her lips in a reassuring smile,"Ill leave you two to it then", she spoke, gathering her books and leaving before you could stop her. You look up at him, a pout of hatred and anger plastered on your face. You lightly roll your eyes as he bends to your height. Telling him your address with a quick 'dont be late', before turning on your heel to leave.

And thats how you got here now, bored and revising things that you never even knew existed. He stops talking, causing you to look up at him as if you knew he was going to say something off-topic. "Got any snacks?" he asks, smiling as you reluctantly stand up, letting out an annoyed sigh. You walk out of the room, unintentionally swaying your hips.

Sunghoon's gaze moves from your back to your ass. Your small shorts barely cover any of your flesh. He bites his lip, forcing his eyes away from the sight. You on the other hand are struggling to get the snacks for the top shelf (lmao) 'how did they even get there?' you think. You can't find anything decent to give him, so you make popcorn instead.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon looked around your room. It was filled with small pictures of yourself on beaches and small revision notes. His eyes were slowly drawn to small drawers, the middle draw with a black silk bow on the handle. It had a lock, but when he realised it was slightly opened, it made him more curious as to what was inside. Maybe it was some weird cringy 'dear diary' or childish photos.

In fact, it was the opposite. It was full of different sex toys, ones he never expected you would own, or even know of.

Instead of being disgusted, he bit his lip, never knowing that you were this filthy and dirty. He loved this, so many lewd thoughts ran through his mind. Imagining how you would twitch around the toy, letting out small moans and whines, oh he wanted you so bad.

He grabbed a small vibrator turning it on and seeing the small bud move made him smirk. There was also a small matching remote, a setting to speed and slow down the vibrations. He grabbed it and put it in his pocket, waiting for you to return.

You finally enter the room, your shirt exposing your waist as you were reaching for the top cupboard earlier. You place the popcorn in front of him and sit down. "There were no snacks so I had to make popcorn"

"Try it for me, please?" you watch as he takes one in his hand. His eyes never leave yours ashe puts the piece in his mouth. You gulp down the horniness building up in you, ignoring the wet patch forming between your legs. "Its alright" he answers, breaking your thoughts.

You turn back to your book but his deep voice stops you. "I think you forgot to lock something" he starts as your eyes connect to his, not understanding him. He pushes the chair back on its wheels, pulling the draw with him.

Your eyes widen as he reveals what you had thoughtg you locked before. You start to stutter an explanation but before you could protest, he pulls you towards him. "youre just as filthy as i thought you were" his breath blows on your face and he lets out a breathy laugh as you dont respond. "Couldve just asked me to fuck you" he taunts in your ear, his breath tickling down your neck.

"You want a cock don't you?" He mocks you, pouting as you slightly nod. "Get up for me then" you immediately get up like an eager puppy, ready to do anything for him. You watch as he pulls down his jeans, revealing his revealing his pink, leaking cock.

And look at you know, all on top of him and trembling as the small vibrator sped up again. "C'mon then, next question," he smiles as you still try your best to focus. You have sweat running down your neck, back, forehead, everywhere possible. "I-is is 52?"

He chuckles softly, "wrong baby" he coos. You start to sob again. "Sunghoon, t-too much!" he laughs as your body jolts to him adding the speed. "c'mon next one". This question was way more easier so you finally (estupido) got it right. "please let me cum sunghoon- please!" You can feel him thrusting up into you, it feels overwhelming but its just so good.

You can feel his dick hitting so high into those spongey spots no one has hit before. Even when you looked down, you could see the bulge in your belly which only made you moan more. "Hold it in a little longer baby" but you couldnt hear him anymore. Your eyes were at the back of your head at every thrust he did.

"Please sunghoon!" he sighs loudly, finally giving you a reassuring hum. As if you could hold it any longer, you feel your orgasm rain over you. Both yours and sunghoons liquid mix down your thighs.

♡

small aftercare~

Your in the bath with sunghoon bet over to your level and scrubbing your sore plush body. "Want to do this again?" your eyes grow bigger in plead but he just giggles lightly.

"Sure"

took me so long, i apologise

#enha x reader #enhypen #enhyphen hard thoughts #enhyphen x reader #enhypen smut #enhyphen sunghoon #sunghoon smut #sunghoon

[euseokz]

@ eunseok — i always know how much you need me baby, so i give you just enough to not leave you hanging . cws : dry-humping . use of nicknames (good girl) . finger sucking . wc : 0.7k+ . genre : smut 

FWB! EUNSEOK who has been teasing you all day, sending nasty texts and leaving you all hot and bothered on purpose, but who is surprised when he gets to your apartment at night and finds you on your bed with nothing but your underwear on, one of your hands already sneaking under your panties. 

“are you that needy already?” he asks almost playfully, with a teasing tone, his usual smirk painted on his lips. you don’t reply, simply whining and pressing your fingers over your clit harder, too horny to have the usual back and forth you two share. “i’ll take that as a yes” eunseok adds right after.

he walks to you and plants his hands on your body, pulling your wrist out from your panties and guiding you to straddle him while he sits on your bed. he looks at your digits that had been down your panties seconds prior, how they’re shiny with your arousal, strings of your slick connecting them. eunseok has to hold back a grunt, instead guiding them to his mouth, sucking on your fingers and tasting you while looking directly into your eyes, humming when you whine surprised. he lets go not too long after, planting his hands on your hips and pulling you to him, pushing you down against his bulge, his loose pants doing nothing to hide the obvious tent. it looked painful almost, even through his clothes, his dick twitching and a grunt finally leaving him when he feels your soaked panties press against him, eyes now focused there.

“i want you to cum against me like this, can you do that?” eunseok asks, voice sultry, his words coming as more of a request than a demand. when you nod, biting your bottom lip while already moving yourself ever so slightly against his covered cock, eunseok groans again, smiling before saying a simple “good girl”.

you move your hips slowly, pressing down just enough for him to feel how your folds part around his bulge, only leaving your panties wetter, a dark patch eventually staining eunseok's pants too. you're soaked, and incredibly needy, humping against him at a fastening pace, moaning and whining about how good it feels, your hands landing on eunseok's shoulders as your nails dig into them, bunching up the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and pressing down harshly against his skin. eunseok can feel the warmth of your pussy, his bottoms thin enough that he even feels how your clit twitches almost in sync with his dick. he guides his hands to your hips and grips them hard, deciding to now set the pace, moving you faster while pressing you more roughly against himself. you allow it without complaining, moaning his name and digging your nails deeper into his skin, pleasure blooming between your legs, a hot wave taking over your middle.

lust clouds your brain as your eyelids feel heavy and fall close, your head resting back and giving eunseok perfect access to kiss and suck on your neck, making you wonder if that was what heaven felt like. your orgasm was close, each stroke of your covered cunt against eunseok’s prominent bulge only driving you closer to the edge — the man under you not finding himself in a much better state, his mind flooded with nasty thoughts as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive skin of your throat, feeling as his cock twitched, his teeth sinking into you and a guttural grunt escaped him when he came, milky cum dampening his underwear, his orgasm only an excuse for eunseok to move you faster against himself, his nails now digging into your sides as he guided you, making you reach your peak sooner than later, a silent moan leaving you as your mouth fell open when your high finally hit you, crashing into you hard.

eunseok started slowing down the pace until you were barely moving your hips against his, finally pulling back to look at you, moving to cup your cheeks, his eyes hooded and glossy with arousal as he spoke.

“see? i’m always good to you baby, always give you enough to leave you an absolute mess without even needing to push my cock into you”

#! . . 📝 #eunseok #song eunseok #riize eunseok #eunseok smut #song eunseok smut #riize eunseok smut #riize #riize smut #eunseok imagines #eunseok drabbles #eunseok scenarios #eunseok fic #eunseok fanfic #eunseok x reader #eunseok x you #song eunseok imagines #song eunseok x reader #riize imagines #riize drabbles #riize scenarios #riize fics #riize fanfic #riize x reader #riize x you #riize x y/n #riize x imagine #eunseok hard hours #eunseok hard thoughts #riize hard hours

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

The creator had a:

sea streaked child

WC:800

Cw: reader is said to breastfeed but isn't written doing so

Checking the blinds to make sure they were clean, remaking the ruffles so they are even.

Furina had spent her entire morning jittery walking everywhere in the palais mermonia.

Now across the room she is digging in between the blue roses hiding any less than stellar bloom under one of its prettier sisters.

Changing the tea set on the table in the middle of the room, cerulean blue, cobalt blue and sky blue swapping places faster than Neuvillette can pay any mind to.

She sighs, looking defeated at the sets and almost begging them to tell her which one is supposed to be best yet for one second the teapots looked like mocking faces. Throwing herself on a loveseat the room starts to feel smaller and she isn't even totally sure what tea to serve.

“Breath” neuvillette says from the desk, ever since he took over the leading role in Fontaine he spent more time between pages of legal documents, if that is even possible “they are arriving for a simple chat to check on the general management of the region”

“How do you even expect me to be calm when they themselves asked for my attendance for this meeting!” she sits up wobbly, the soft swirling getting worse “I can't even remember what cake you told me they liked… this is going to be a mess”

“Their grace has quite the sweet tooth, as long as what you planned doesn't have coffee it's going to be alright”

“Why no coffee?”

“miss furina… they gave birth a few days ago, it’s disadvised to breastfeed and have caffeinated drinks” seeing her nod and her little ahoge bobbing along he feels the need to confirm “that not only includes coffee and variations but also most teas” and with that she jumps to her feet, quickly excusing herself to make some changes.

“That child…” he sighs as he reviews the documents he wanted to show you and a rough overview, his head resting against his hand and a finger between his teeth. Feeling the door whining softly he laughs from the bottom of his throat “back soon early?”

And as his heart skipped a beat as you spoke “Oh, my, I know I am 30 minutes early but I thought you would like to meet me particularly” you walk deeper inside the room, past the meticulously fixed flowers that you wouldn't have noticed the mistakes on and past the three teapots on the table, each a slightly different shade of blue. Now standing besides neuvillette and facing the documents he just noticed the bundle of white cloth you held onto.

“Did the crops get better with the method I recommended? It left me worried when I left”

“The production got better, if you want to check the report is here” he offers the three papers stuck together by a metal clip when he notices that doing it with a single hand might be hard “if I might help you” he positions his arms to grab the baby and you let her between his arms

“Let's hope she stays asleep, she is such a colicky baby” you whisper but as soon as you finish the sentence she opens her eyes and starts wailing “my goodness…” you sigh deeply.

“Let me take care of it, just focus on that” he stands up and tries to mimic what he saw parents do with their small children whenever something upsetting might come up during the trials and small children would cry.

He grabs her neck and head with one hand and her legs with another, cradling her like you. As he was swaying softly the blanket covering her hair slid down to show pointy ears and softly cartilage mixing on her thin white hair.

“Is she…” but is soon shushed by you, pointing at the door and then to your ears, the message very clear ‘someone might be listening’ but he keeps his eyes glued to you only to catch you mouthing a soundless yes. His hands cradle her head onto his neck, soft blue cartilage sneaking past his fingers.

Now soothed, you two find comfort on the soft sound of passing the pages and Cordelia's breathing, the baby's name he would later find out.

“NEUVI I managed to get a cheesecake and fontas did i save this?!” Furina pushes past the door, holding a full size strawberry cheesecake and hugging three fontas against her chest but seeing you head on thinking you weren't on Fontaine yet “HIYY”

The screech caused Cornelia to get startled and start wailing “Miss Furina.” neuvillette says sternly, almost like a father telling off his daughter. But the only thing it caused was for her to see him hugging a baby suspiciously similar to him which didn't take her long to join the dots.

“OOAH!”

“Furina please stop scaring my daughter!”

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #self aware genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #neuvillete #genshin neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #meme made in WhatsApp my beloved

[trappolia]

IS IT CASUAL NOW? ── ace trappola + gn!reader, 1k

ace trappola has always been a somebody.

he was born a somebody, there is no denying that; not his father's iron fist always reminding him and his older brother that they could not have achieved the comforts they had today without the hard work of his ancestors, nor his mother's soft hands smoothening his messy hair and telling him to always be humble. there is something distinctive to his family name, the consonants twisting around his tongue like the echoes of the eternal city in a dying sunset and the ancient pathways of the foro romano; english nannies and private schools, summers in the afterglow savannah, winters in the north of the shaftlands.

his "first love" is at seventeen, summertime, at the poolside of some seaside village where a distant cousin let him sleep in the spare bedroom. the sun beats down on his nape kissed a hot, angry pink, and he lays on his back for hours and thinks of how the sun can eat him up with her love. he does not remember why or how he kissed you ── beautiful, sunkissed and golden in his memories of that heat wave in july ── but he remembers the mornings after where he awoke to your legs tangled with his beneath thin, cotton sheets as the sun rose in the horizon, skin tingling with sunburn and bruising kisses.

no one asks why you come down together for breakfast in the mornings, or why the mattress underneath the bed is no longer pulled out for someone to sleep on at night. when his nonna mentions how she expected it, considering how attached at the hip you two have been since first year, ace just gives a non-committal hum, and the subject is never brought up again.

when summer ends, ace does not kiss you goodbye. neither of you talk about it either.

this is not to say that you are a nobody, not to ace. he is not so foolish, not so prideful as he was in his youth just two years ago. ace has already shared with you most things that he would not divulge to just anyone; his time, his space, his bed. you are his other half, the same way he is to deuce; the way your little gaggle of troublemakers have tangled themselves in a web made up of a red string of fate. and so neither of you speak about those hot summer months, entangled with each other like pieces of an ambitious puzzle, and life goes on. there is a shift, yes, he feels it in the marks from your nails in long, linear b lines down his back, stolen moments in between classes in dark janitor's closets, your tie and underwear tucked inside his drawer, but nothing has changed. you sleep over, then you're gone by morning for your next class. you see him in the hallway and beam, let him sling his arm around you like you are both still sixteen and first-years in a school that seems so much bigger than the two of you.

you never stay, but ace never loses you.

ace cannot lose you, or at least, he doesn't think he can. he has never lost anything, anybody; not once in his life. people have only been dismissed from his company, or little toys taken away for some time for his misbehaviour.

but he has never lost.

and then winter of third year rolls along, and there is a trembling sense of finality that settles over ace when he sees you studying for what will be your final exams, skin pale without that warm glow months before. he sees you less often, kisses you less often, as even he has to be hidden away indoors, skulking around dark corridors leaves him saturnine and dreading the exam hall and the weight of his pen in his hand. ace goes to bed alone, and even in those few moments where he manages to stay awake before his head hits the pillow, he thinks about how cold the bed is without you.

ace thinks about how this will be the last year the two of you spend together, before you're both inevitably sent off someplace else, surely not together, for your work practice.

and suddenly losing you becomes terrifyingly plausible.

ace doesn't want to be a somebody if it's not with you; he knows this now for certain. he sleeps over at ramshackle when exams are over, but even when you kiss him he cannot help but think: this is the last time, this is the last time, this is the last time—

maybe that's why he swallows when he watches you get dressed the next morning, thinks of your mocking in saccharine sweet just the night before, crooning in his ear: poor, poor ace. always gets what he wants, and the moment he doesn't, he throws a little fit.

that's wrong, ace had wanted to say. he doesn't remember throwing a fit, not once in his entire childhood. and then he looks up at you, divinity in the flesh, hands wrapped around his throat, and he thinks: oh. i've never had anything to lose before you.

“mhm?” you hum when ace wraps his arm around your hips, lazy but firm. his lips press against the curve where your the skin of your waist stretches over your hipbones, that sweet curve. “you want me to call someone to bring breakfast? i think jack can be convinced.”

“mrm,” ace mumbles against the sweet curve of your waist to hip, the single syllable roughly translated to “no, thank you” by your keen sense.

(his sweet darling, his other half)

“what is it?” you coo, running a hand through his messy auburn hair. “c’mon, i agreed to take ruggie’s shift—“

“fuck ruggie, respectfully,” ace grumbles, and he tilts his chin to look up at you, his mahogany eyes soft and sweet and lovely. “stay.”

stay.

he sees your expression falter at the word. he’s never said it to you, not in this context. ace was so foolish to think he could have you without asking, so dumb to even consider that you’d stay for someone you weren’t even officially bound to.

“stay?” you echo, voice small.

“stay with me,” he reiterates, his cheeks beginning to burn. ace sees the corners of your lips tug up, and he thinks he sees you somewhere down the road, making fun of him and his stupidity at your wedding table.

(his heart swells at the thought, endlessly fond)

“yeah?” you’re smiling now. little shit, he thinks in the same breath as: how pretty.

“yeah,” ace exhales, before his heart seizes. “…will you?”

you laugh, and it sounds like summertime and first loves. “obviously, dumbass. i thought you’d never ask.”

(he was foolish to even doubt)

© trappolia 2024

#ace trappola #twisted wonderland #twst #ace trappola x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola fluff #ace trappola angst #ace trappola imagines #ace trappola scenarios #ace trappola drabbles #ace trappola oneshots #ace trappola fics #ace trappola headcanons #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland angst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland drabbles #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland oneshots #twisted wonderland fics #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst fluff #twst angst #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twst drabbles #twst oneshots #twst fics #twst headcanons

[pandalorian36]

Azriel x reader

A night in a shared hotel room leads to confessions of love.

Word count:2260 Warnings: possessive Azriel, some suggestivness at the end

I joined the night court long ago, I don't really remember what happened but I was only just an adult when Rhys, Azriel and Cassian found me stumbling about in the snow with no memory of how I got there. They took me in and I found good friends among the court as they became my family. Finding my own magic and skills. I am fast and strong able to beat most in a fight. People learn the hard way not to underestimate me.

Groaning I follow Az into the battered inn shaking the snow from my clothes and feathery wings. The fluffy flakes have stuck to some of the feathers meaning I have to manually brush them off. Azriel stomps back over a singular key dangling from his hand "They only have one room." I shrug shivering "Long as its warm I don't care."

He huffs slightly and starts up the stairs having to stoop under the doorway. The room itself is tiny Az taking up a shocking amount of space, it consists of a small bathroom and a small double bed squashed against the wall and a dresser with a rickety looking chair but its clean and relatively warm.

I am too tired to argue about anything and drop my bag on the dresser peeking into the bathroom there is no way I can fit in the bath with my wings let alone Azriel who is significantly taller. I remove my jacket and begin to fill the sink with no hot water I make it quick scrubbing the dirt from my hands an arms before leaving the bathroom for Azriel.

I hear the water start followed by a large bout of swearing. I bite my lip to stop my laugh I forgot to warn him about the hot water situation. Minutes later he emereges hair dripping and shirtless. "Little cold?" he glares but light shines in his eyes so there is no malice behind it. I tuck my wings in and sit on the edge of the bed "I don't mind sharing. The floor is far too cold."

Az doesn't respond so I turn onto my side getting as close to the wall as I can so he has plenty of space. The bed is not built for those with wings let alone someone of Az's size, the bed dips significantly under his weight making me laugh as I slide into his side "Hello." he rolls his eyes slightly and adjusts his weight so the mattress evens out once more allowing me to move back to where I was.

The room is freezing the thin blanket offering little warmth. I fall into a light sleep exhaustion winning over. Before I fully wake I feel a sense of warmth and content moving closer to the source of heat I find its difficult to move a weight on one of my wings.

Blinking I find I am facing Azriels chest, it takes a moment to fully comprehend our position. One of his wings is under my side another draped over the top while my own almost mirror wrapping around him. His shadows are also wrapped around the both of us twining our limbs together. Azriel grunts slightly his whole body stretching out and I freeze terrified of moving. I'm trapped until he moves his weight.

I look up and find Azriel already awake staring straight back his face bright red. I think its the first time I've ever seen him blush. We both try and pull apart in a tangle of limbs failing completly when he ends up on his back with you sprawled on his chest faces inches apart. Blushing furiously you scrambled up managing to free yourself and fall onto the floor. Knowing how much he struggles with physical contact you stand "Az I'm sorry I didn't. I don't."

He stands combing a hand through his hair still visibly blushing"Its fine." His shadows are dancing around the room wrapping around my legs and arms chuckling slightly I glance down heat instantly rushing to my face as I notice Azriel's situation. Quickly I return my gaze to his face "I'm going to change." Hurridly I enter the bathroom filling the basin with water to splash on my face.

Its true you I have always harboured a crush on the stoic illyrian. He is handsome, kind and though people rarely see it has a wonderful sense of humour. Everything about him draws me in but I have never said anything not wanting to ruin our friendship. It took Azriel longer than the others to trust you but I spent a lot of time proving yourself to him.

Taking a deep breath I exit the bathroom finding Azriel fully clothed and surrounded in shadows. "Bathroom is free." he nods not saying a word as he finishes packing. I pack my own bag slowly and officantly putting my two short swords into place finished by the time Azriel reappears shaking water from his hair I smile slightly "Looks like the storm has passed we should be back in Velaris by this evening."

He nods and grabs his bag remaining silent. I put it down to embarrasment and don't pry following him silently out the room and out into the woods. There is a clean blanket of snow over everything the tiny ice crystals blinking in the sunlight. I smile brightly and expand my wings taking off into the early morning sky the soft flakes fluttering slightly as I move.

Az joins me in the sky the two of us heading towards Velaris. Cassian is first to greet us at the house of wind grinning broadly "Welcome home." before either of us can react he has thrown a snowball hitting Az square in the face. I bite my lip coughing to hide a laugh as Azriel wipes the snow from his face scowling at his brother. A shadow whips out wrapping around his ankle sending Cassian crashing too the floor.

Mor and Rhys walk into the room Rhys shaking his head looking dissapointed "You are back less than five minutes and already fighting?" Cassian grins standing up "I couldn't resist." Mor rolls her eyes "Didn't you get it all out your system last week?" Rhys chuckles "Cas is still sore that he lost. Az, Y/N anything to report?"

We both shake our heads and he nods "Excellent I still want a written report for tomorrow though." Cassian grins "Get caught in the storm last night?" I smile "We stayed at an inn. Didn't want to risk flying in it." he nods solemnly "Very wise." I roll my eyes at him shooting a smile at Azriel "I'm going home I'll send my report this evening. Bye Cass."

Cassian waves flopping down on one of the sofas while I fly home and sink into the bathtub glad for the warm water and space. Changing into comfortable trousers and shirt I sit at my desk and write out my report sending it directly to the house of wind by magic.

Azriel seems to be avoiding me over the coming days at training, dinners always finding excuses to leave the room when I enter. After a week the others begin to catch on Cass and Rhys cornering me after a dinner "What is going on?" I stare up at them confused "Sorry?" Rhys sighs "With Azriel."

I sigh rubbing my forehead "I have no idea. Every time I try and talk to him he finds an excuse to leave. Believe me if I knew what I had done I would apologise for it."

Cassian raises a brow "So hes ignoring you for no reason?" I sigh "I don't know he's been ignorning me since the inn..." Cassian gasps "Did something happen with you two?" I shake my head "No, nothing really. There was only one room left so we ended up sharing a bed but nothing happened."

Rhys grins sharing a look with his brother before leaving I watch them leave confused before shaking my head and heading home. Unlocking the door I remove all jewlery and kick my shoes off to the side jumping when there is a knock at the door.

I open it slowly finding Az his shadows dancing around him as he fidgets with his hands "Azriel?" I cross my arms sighing "Ready to explain why you've been ignoring me? Look if I did anything to offend you I'm sorry. I..."

"You haven't done anything." I must look shocked as he sighs deeply "I'm sorry. May I come in?" I step back allowing him in before shutting the door leaning against it. Az looks uncomfortable his shadows constantly moving around as he shifts his weight.

"Az what is going on you've been ignorning me since the Inn." he sighs taking a step closer "I didn't handle it well I'm sorry. I feel very strongly about you but never wished to pressure you into anything. I know you don't feel the same way..."

"Don't feel the same way," I laugh "Az I'm crazy about you." his face blanks and I take a step closer "Is that why you've been avoiding me? You thought I didn't like you?" He shrugs his shadows winding closer and I can sense there is something else he isn't telling me. I step closer taking one of his hands in mine slowly tracing the scars.

I look up meeting his gaze, he leans down slowly almost nervous as his lips brush against mine. I wrap my arms around his neck his sliding around my waist deepening the kiss. Heat floods through my body electricity shooting through my veins as something inside clicks into place something that feels like home, like a piece I've been missing. I don't know how I missed it my mind becomes clearer Azriel filling every gap.

My whole body sings mate. Azrael wraps his hands under my thighs pulling me up, I wrap my legs around his waist every fibre of my body wanting him, needing him. He pulls away pupils blown growling low "Mate." both of our chests are heaving as he leans in kissing me again moaning against my lips. "Mine."

I moan in response pulling away for air brushing hair out of his face his shadows twining around my arms tickling my skin, I frown kissing him gently this time "You knew didn't you?"

He nods grip tightening on my thighs as he backs me into the nearest wall "I knew from the moment we first met." he presses a kiss on my jaw working his way along speaking between kisses "I have loved you for years never knowing how you felt."

"I never told anyone." I run my fingers through his hair pressing kisses along his cheeks "You kept it to yourself all this time?" he locks his gaze with mine shadows playing with my hair "When you didn't react to the bond I thought I was wrong. But the longer I spent around you I knew I was correct. When ever you weren't around I missed you, when ever Rhys sent you on a mission I worried. I felt drawn to you at every moment wanting too kill any male who got too close."

He runs his hands up my sides "I wanted to tell you. I didn't know how." He kisses my cheeks "I'm shouldn't have kept it from you. I understand if you're mad." I smile blinking back tears "I'm not mad Az. I love you. Have loved you for years."

He tilts his head to the side "Why didn't you say anything? I thought you where ignorning our bond its why I never acted on it." I shake my head tighting my grip on him "No. Az I had no idea. You really thought I was ignoring you?" I sniff willing the tears not to fall "I could never do that to you. I promise you I didn't know. I think it something to do with my memory loss but I don't know. All I know is that you are mine. My mate and I love you with every fibre of my being."

Smiling softly he leans his forehead against mine shutting his eyes "My soul belongs to you Y/N L/N. Every part of me is yours." I cup his face bringing his lips to mine in a soft kiss pouring every ounce of my love into it before pulling away grinning "I believe I owe you a meal." he shakes his head slightly peppering kisses down my throat "Later."

I smirk pushing him away "No we are going to do this properly. You can control yourself for a little longer spy master." I nip at his ear making him growl while you jump to the floor walking through to your kitchen. Azriel slinks after you his shadows wrapped tightly around me waist carassing every inch of skin that is visible while I try and focus on what I am doing.

"Y/N you are testing my patience." I chuckle and turn around an apple in hand "And I thought patience was your strong suit. Do not fret spymaster I have no desire on making you wait." he glowers but takes the apple I offer biting into it and chewing painfully slowly.

He doesn't bother with the rest placing it on the counter smirking "Now I have waited long enough mate." his voice drops dangerously low as he backs me into the counter giving you a look that makes you weak in the knees "You are all mine." ...

#x y/n #x reader #acotar #azriel #acotar x reader #batboys #sarah j maas #azriel x reader #azriel x you #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin

[shycoconutt]

A Future with You

Summary: It's been a long time since Satoru and you talked, and there are some feelings that are threatening to come to light. Can you both move on from your tragic past?

Content Warning: MDNI (18+) smut, penetration (unprotected sex, finishing inside, oral fem receiving), fem reader, some angst, porn with some plot, praise, past betrayl. Takes place post night parade, pre season one.

WC: 5.8k

Notes: I did it! First semi-long fic for JJK! Requests are open, fyi :)

“Why do you do that?”

Saturo Gojo's voice pierced through the room, interrupting your focus on your paperwork. Ignoring him, you continued ticking off points on your mission checklist, frustrated by the tedious task mandated by the higher-ups.

Ugh, it’s so annoying that they make us fill these out every time. It’s pointless, they never even read them. 

 “Hellllllloooooooooooooooo,” Satoru sings in your direction. 

Glancing up, you find Satoru leaning forward in his chair, his white hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights of his office in one of the main buildings of Jujutsu High. His eyes are covered in thin, black material. To his right, Nanami is sprawled out on the sofa with his head resting on the armrest, one leg hanging off the side and his foot on the ground. He’s passed out, finished paperwork resting on his slowly rising and falling chest, oblivious to the world.

"My bad, I thought you were talking to Ken," you apologize, turning your attention to Satoru.

“Oh yeah, suuuuuuuure,” he pouts, “You always ignore me.”

“Not always, but most of the time,” you smile teasingly.

You were so used to Satoru’s presence, that ignoring him was one of the only ways to keep you sane. 80% of what he babbles on about is nonsense, and he knows it. He lives to tease you. The truth is, you’ve grown up together, faced death, lived and loved together. You don’t technically ignore him, you couldn’t if you tried, you just tune him down a little, like the radio.

After a brief pause, you relented, "Why do I always do what?"

Satoru smiles and leans back into his chair, pressing his fingers together. 

“That thing with your feet,” he smiles, pointing towards them. 

You draw your attention to your feet crossed on the coffee table in front of you. You only had your socks on, for comfort. Your brows furrowed in confusion, not exactly sure what he was getting at. 

Satoru scoffs, reading your face. “That thing!”

“What thing?!” you ask, bemused.

Satoru sighs and tilts his head back in frustration. Bringing his hands together again, he begins to rub them into each other in a haphazard manner. 

“This whole thing you do,” he continues to demonstrate, “It’s like your feet are making out!”

You begin to giggle as he becomes more aggressive with his hands. Your joy comes in waves throughout your body, thoroughly amused. Satoru knows how much you love his physical comedy, so he really hams it up for you.

Suddenly, he springs up from his chair and explodes like a firework, “You’re doing it again!”

“Argh, why are you yelling?” Kento grumbles from the couch, papers crumpling under his grasp as he sat up from his sprawled-out position. 

“Oh, sorry Kenny,” Satoru puts a hand up to his mouth and grins. Giggles are still escaping from you as Kento grunts in frustration, gathering his papers and brushing himself off from his slumber.

“I was just over here trying so hard to complete my important work,” Gojo continues, "but we have a little cricket in the room," he quipped, looking over at you with a playful glint in his eye. It’s a look you are all too familiar with. It’s a look that gets you out of bed in the morning.

God, he’s so pretty.

Satoru is the type of pretty that transcends human – part of you swears he is extraterrestrial. His skin was born without imperfection. His white hair, although sometimes wild, is shiny and smooth. His teeth look like they are made of pearls. His body is sturdy, yet aerodynamic. Then, of course, there are his eyes. 

His eyes are like mirrors facing a partly cloudy sky. Often you wondered if they would suck you in, spit you out, and watch you freefall.

Terrified of hitting the ground, you never fully give yourself over to him. You never released all of what was inside of you. If he was the sky, you were a single raindrop resting in a storm cloud, waiting to fall if the pressure of it all became too heavy.

But with him, at least on the surface, it rarely got heavy these days, so you were always able to float around in the bliss of ignorance. Maybe one day, the cloud would pass by, or evaporate altogether. Part of you hoped it would, part of you didn’t want to experience the pain that it could cause. A life without him seemed empty – a desert void of life.

But what came next threatened a downpour.

“Well, I’m out of here,” Kento huffs, “I don’t know why either of you let me fall asleep. You both know I hate staying here past five.”

“Sorry,” you start, “you just look so peaceful when you sleep. It’s a nice change of pace.” You smile, throwing him his jacket that rests next to you. 

Kento let out a small hum in thanks, putting on his jacket in one quick move, swiftly exiting the room without a goodbye. 

“Bye, my love! I’ll miss you every second you’re not in my arms!” Satoru cries out, running to the doorframe to wave Kento off. You scoff at his antics, turning back to your work, you finish off the rest of your checklist with disregard. Feeling the couch dip, you feel a familiar warmth on your side as Satoru makes himself comfortable. 

“You know what’s funny?” he starts, “I’ve always noticed they way you mush your feet together. You do it constantly, you know that?” Taking his blindfold off, he loops it around his pointer finger, pulling the fabric back with his other hand. With pinpoint accuracy, he slingshots the band around your crossed feet. “They release a tiny amount of cursed energy when you do, it’s almost like you have a pilot light.” Obviously pleased with himself, his lips spread in a tight smirk, making your face feel warm.

God, you loath Satoru Gojo. The way his single observation makes your stomach do flips. Knowing that he perceives you. That he recognizes your patterns.

Suddenly, your hair is being pushed behind your ear by Satoru’s long fingers, his arm stretched across the length of the back of the couch. 

“So soft,” you hear him mumble, barely audible. His fingers linger on the back of your ear, slowly gliding down to lightly pinch your earlobe. You watch him intently out of the corner of your eye, at a loss for words. Although his touches were light, they feel like they burn. 

“Satoru…” the noise that leaves your mouth is barely a whisper.

“Hm?” he muses, fingers leaving your ear to grip your shoulder. His grip is firm, almost uncomfortable as he turns you to look him in the eyes fully.

This is one of those moments – he is sucking you in and you don’t know where you are going to fall.

-

That is how you two always seem to navigate, pushing the limits of what defines your relationship with moments like this. You were friends, colleagues even. You work tremendously well together, which both you and the higher-ups discovered after the death of Haibara, then the following departures of both Geto and Nanami. With just you, him and Shoko left of your former teams, and Shoko staying behind on campus to further advance her reversed curse technique, both of you were usually sent out together on missions.

At first, your missions were always done in silence, both of you trying to heal your traumas internally. In both of your defenses, navigating without verbal communication went on without a hitch. You danced around each other, synchronizing your attacks and defending the other’s back. You didn’t mind him taking the lead in most cases, because you were always exactly where you needed to be when the moment struck. You hate to admit that his looks of approval are what kept you going during that dark period of your life.

It wasn’t until you were at death’s door when feelings bubbled up to the surface. What seemed like a routine mission turned for the worse when a gaggle of special grade curses were congregated in your area. You were cornered, and with no way out, Satoru was forced to use his domain expansion. You knew it well, understanding the rules of the infinite domain. As long as you were touching, you were safe. 

But Satoru cracked. In the fight leading up to the point of his release of the technique, he became high off of the feeling of exorcizing strong curses. He hates to admit it now, but his vision tunneled, and he forgot about you. 

At that moment, you were not observed. You were not perceived. You were not recognized. You were an afterthought – a casualty.

As quickly as the domain exploded around you, it released. Satoru realized his mistake in a quarter of a second, but at the time, he thought that was all it took. Barely escaping the area, he raced back to Tokyo with you in his arms, your body breathing but lifeless. You couldn't respond to his cries, his profuse apologies, his pleads to the gods to let you live. Satoru Gojo thought he killed you, and he swore to you that he couldn’t, and wouldn't, move on without you.

Turns out that over the course of your time together, your roots were intertwining – hope for a new life manifesting in each other's strength to continue forward, despite everything.

You were out of it for weeks in a bed tended by Shoko. She cared for you, studied you. She took note that you were conscious, but unresponsive. It wasn’t until after where you told her that you were, in fact, conscious – all your senses worked, but you couldn't get your body to move. It was like you were frozen, much like how it was inside Satoru’s domain.

Satoru was banned from seeing you, although he often broke that rule. Every night you could sense his presence at your bedside, his delicate fingers tracing softly over your exposed skin. Those fingers always happened to make their way to your earlobe, pinching you softly there – a small plea for you to come to life. For you to sit up and slap him across the face for being so damn stupid.

And he would let you. He wanted you to leave him bloody and bruised. He wanted to experience pain by your hand. It was what he thought he deserved. That over you not talking to him ever again. Undoubtedly, that would kill him.

He received punishment from the higher-ups for being careless, to which he bore with no complaint. To this day he states that he is unsure what he would've done if you hadn't made a full recovery. Maybe it would have all been too much. 

But you recovered, and you forgave. 

You understood completely, knowing it was an accident. Yes, it hurt a little bit to know that he forgot about you, even for less than a second. Truth is, you forever want to hold a permanent residence in Satoru Gojo’s mind. Quite selfish of you frankly.

After your recovery, time went on and your plates began to fill. Satoru gained students. Nanami came back. New roles were filled. Expectations changed. Your relationship with Satoru continued strong, but it plateaued.

You were stuck in romantic purgatory.

Or so you thought.

 -

“What are you doing?” you finally ask. You struggle to find the emotion hidden in his eyes. They seem excited, playful, yet serious. His brows are furrowed together, hair now fallen in front of them due to the absence of his headband. 

Satoru’s lips pursed for a moment before speaking, “I-” he pauses, seemingly going over the words in his head, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while.”

His hand has yet to leave your shoulder, his thumb slowly rubbing circles in the small divot located in the muscle there. It feels heavenly. Something about his energy seems so calming to you in this moment, and you acknowledge how respectful it is that he waited for a natural minute where you two would be alone. It was very rare these days. Whatever he wants to talk about, you know it’s important to him.

“Satoru, whatever it is, you know you can talk to me about anything,” you say with sincerity, placing your hand over his own.

Satoru gives you a soft smile, “I know,” his eyes travel and find their way to your hand on his, “but rarely does anything we talk about revolve around us.”

Us?

You can’t help the fluttering feeling that gathers in your lower stomach. Satoru was right, you barely had any moments to talk about anything other than work. Nanami and you were always away on missions, and he was always preoccupied with his students and Megumi. You had a moment together after the trials of the night parade and the aftermath of Suguru Geto’s death. You consoled him, took care of him for a short while. But, again, he was quiet. He was in mourning.

After that, when things turned back to normal, you asked Nanami if you could do your mission paperwork together in Satoru’s office from then on out. Any chance you had to check in on him was one you wanted to take. Nanami, being the angel that he is, agreed to this, knowing your intentions without even having to ask.

You have feelings for Satoru Gojo. You care about his well being more than you care for your own. The man labeled famously as God’s Favorite is simply just a man to you. No matter what he or anyone else thinks, you know Satoru is not invincible. He deserves to be protected too.

After a few beats, your stomach settles, and you continue on with more confidence than even he expected.

“Yes,” you begin, “we should talk about us.”

Satoru’s eyes widen by a millimeter, just enough for you to catch.

“Okay,” clearing his throat for a moment, Satoru continues, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you because I’m tired of just letting precious time pass by. You know I care about you deeply, right?”

You nod in reassurance. 

Satoru's eyes darken slightly. Taking his hand off you, he slumps forward in his spot, placing his hands under his chin, propping his head up. You watch as he looks forward out the school’s window, watching the pink skies as the sun begins to set.

He continues.

“You say so, but I don’t think you truly understand. When I thought that I took your life that day, like a dumb fucking idiot, I was prepared to rid this world of my presence completely. I know I’ve screwed up in the past, but I couldn’t screw up this.” Satoru gestures his hand back and forth between your space on the couch. “If I did, and I almost, I wouldn’t forgive myself. Things would have turned dangerous quickly.” The frown he bares hurts your soul completely.

“But we’re okay, Satoru,” trying your best to reassure him, now it was your turn to place your hand on him. Without much thought, your hand found its way to his thigh, gently rubbing the area with your palm. You felt his quad flex slightly at the touch.

Your hand is soon taken away to be held by both of his own, bringing them to his chin as well. His lower lip grazes the skin of your knuckles, sending a rosy flush to your cheeks. He pauses again, obviously finding it difficult to communicate his thoughts.

“Satoru, please,” your tone is soft, encouraging, “tell me what’s on your mind.”

What happens next feels like a whirlwind. One moment, you're sitting across the couch from Satoru, hand against his chin. Next, you are pinned underneath him with your head on the armrest, both his hands planted on either side of your face to hold himself up. Your legs are spread, the cold air touching the warmth of your panties under your skirt. His knee is in between them, pressing against the flesh of your inner thighs. Looking up, obvious shock sketched on your face, you meet his eyes.

Even in the shadow underneath his white hair, they shine with intensity. In the pools of blue, you can see that he is yearning.

You don’t try to move, you don’t protest his advancements. The closer he is to you, the more content you feel. Slowly, he brings his head down to yours, his forehead resting against your own. His breath is warm, smelling of sweet mint. With a lick of his lips, he continues again.

“I thought that you being alive was enough for me. That I could watch you go on, and just merely being in your presence, able to help when you needed me, would satiate my feelings for you.” You can feel the intensity vibrating off of his form. Satoru looks like a man who has starved for days finding his first meal. Is it terrifying? Yes. Do you love it? Yes. You can’t help the playful smirk that dances on your lips.

You don't know if you are going to regret the angle you are about to take.

“Then what happened, baby,” you purr, eyes challenging his own with a flash of pure lust. His eyes widen in what you can imagine is excitement.

“What happened?” Satoru chuckles, darkly, “What happened is I realized that I cannot go on if you are not mine.” 

Satoru’s lips crash into yours with ferocity. Although somewhat aggressive in his movements, his actual contact with you is soft and sensual. His kisses are unleashing his secrets, one’s that seem hard to keep. Parting your mouth slightly, you push your tongue forward to invite him in. Your tongues begin to dance slowly, mixing each other's spit to create a lustful potion. 

One of his hands comes down from the couch to under your shirt, tightly gripping your ribcage. Your hands come up to wrap around the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the short, velvety hair of his undercut. Satoru allows himself to come down slightly, resting his hips over your own. The corners of your lips turn up slightly at the feeling of the hard bulge in his pants against your core. A small moan escapes his lips at the contact. His body was reacting this way because of you.

How fun. 

You take it upon yourself to start undressing Satoru. You start by unpinning his uniform jacket, opening it and pushing it off his shoulders. Bringing your hands down under his white cotton shirt, you take a moment to press your fingers into his hip bones, then you slowly lift up the fabric. Satoru, in compliance, sits up and lets you lift his shirt over his head and up his arms. Shirtless in front of you, you can’t help but admire his long torso. He is lean, but strong. You notice one long scar that starts where his shoulder meets his neck and ends around his belly button.

Around his neck, there is a thin silver chain with a small pendant at the end. Instinctively, you take it between your fingers and notice that it is a small raw amethyst crystal. Hm, the crystal for the sign of Aquarius, I wonder- 

Oh. 

Your eyes move up to meet Satoru’s, and you give him a knowing look. The small smile he gives to you hurts your heart, as you can sense the obvious pain behind his eyes. He removes your hand from his necklace and lays it on his chest where his heart is. You know that this is his way of telling you that he is okay. 

Your breathing hitches in your throat as his hands come down to the top of your blue work vest. He quickly unbuttons the three buttons holding it together, opening it up, then grabs the bottom hem of your shirt and lifts it over your head, exposing your bra to him. 

Satoru comes down to gently nip at the squishy flesh of your upper breast spilling over. You hear him deeply inhale your scent, a small hum in satisfaction leaving his mouth. He quickly grabs the lace of your bra, tugging it down so your nipple is exposed to him. Trailing his warm tongue down the side of your breast, he latches on to your bud, giving it a small suck. 

The first gasp of the night leaves you, your legs tightening around his midsection in response to the stimulation. Satoru grabs both of your breasts in his hands, kneading them together while continuing his ministrations. You let your hand trail down his abs, passing under his waistband to find what you’re so desperately looking for. 

You make contact with the hard tip of Satoru’s cock, a bit of pre smearing across your fingers. You let your hand trail down further, wrapping your hand around the base of his length, giving it a small squeeze. Satoru lets go of your nipple with a pop, letting out a strained hiss at your touch. His hips instinctively buckle forward, causing your hand to stroke towards him. 

“Fuuuuck, baby,” he swears, tightening his grip around your chest. Not without protest, he shifts off of you, your grip coming back out of his pants. You give him a small pout, one he finds adorably sexy.

“I know, sweetheart, I know, but not yet,” he coos, cradling one hand in your hair, “I want to taste you first.”

Without hesitation, he quickly finds the zipper of your skirt, hidden in a fold on the side. In one quick swoop, your skirt and panties are off your body, down your legs and discarded to the floor. You are completely exposed to Satoru, now wearing nothing but your bra pulled off your breasts and your stockings. Kneeling on the couch in between your legs, you watch as he stares at your dripping cunt, a blush quickly forming on his cheeks. Now, you know Satoru is not the type to be bashful.

“What is it, Satoru?” you ask, shaky concern in your voice. Was something wrong?

“That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he stares at your pussy in awe, his tongue slowly coming out to lick his lips.

You look down at yourself and your eyes go wide. Oh my god, I forgot.

Your hands come up to cover your face, your cheeks now burning hot. Of course this would be the case, of fucking course.

“I forgot,” you confess, barely a whisper, “my wax girl was always encouraging me to try something new. So when I went last week, I decided to go for it,” you gulp, “she told me all the different designs she could do for a landing strip, and I thought the heart one was the cutest.” You slowly begin closing your legs in sheer embarrassment, but Satoru quickly stops you, grabbing you by your knees and spreading you apart like a book.

If it was possible to Olympic-dive into a pussy, that was what Satoru just did. 

Satoru Gojo is sloppy. He is messy. Going straight for your hole, he snakes his tongue in as far as it can go, lapping out your juices and spreading them all over yourself. Wrapping his arm underneath your thigh, he brings it around to the top of your pussy to grab your mound, lightly pulling it back so that your clit is jetting out of your folds. Once satisfied with your wetness, he wraps his lips around your bundle of nerves, sucking rhythmically and flicking it smoothly with his tongue. Satoru’s other hand makes its way underneath him, coming out from under his chin to insert two digits into your heat. Once he finds the rough patch at the top, he makes a ‘come hither’ motion with his fingers. Your loud moans escape from you relentlessly. If this was a video game, Satoru Gojo knows all the lethal combos. 

You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten. Oh my god, you had no idea someone could make you cum this fast. Of course, Satoru Gojo is good at eating pussy, of course he is.

Hands coming down to grip his soft, white locks, you tilt your head back in pleasure. Satoru in between your legs feels natural – it feels right.

“Satoru! Oh-” you cry.

“Yes, baby, yes,” he says into your folds, not stopping the work he's doing to make you snap, “you going to cum, princess?”

“Yes! Satoru-” words escape you as you reach your limit. Cunt pulsing around his fingers, you fully give yourself to your release, crying out in pleasure as your juices spill over. Satoru grinds his hips into the cushions as your cum drips out of you, moaning himself, he makes sure to savor every last drop, scooping some out with his fingers and sucking them clean. His cock is throbbing in the confines of his slacks, begging to be inserted into your pretty folds.

You watch with half-lidded eyes as Satoru comes up from in between you, mouth and chin glistening with your juices. His face is flushed, hair in disarray from your grasp, chest heaving as he breathes in air after suffocating himself inside you. You feel yourself pulse again at the sight of him. He looks like an animal, and it sets off something primal inside you.

Sitting up from your position, not knowing exactly what is coming over you, you grab Satoru by his neck and guide him to a sitting position on the couch. Once he’s seated, eyes wide in shock, you swing your leg over his lap and straddle him, hand still remaining around his throat. His hands come up instinctively to wrap around your waist. His mouth is slightly agape, looking up at you with lust and, maybe, a little bit of fear.

At this moment, you don't give a damn if you look crazy. You need him.

“Satoru Gojo,” you begin, your voice laced with arousal, “I am going to fuck you so well, you’re going to go blind.”

All he can do in response is nod. Dipping your head, you bring your mouth to the crook of his neck, sucking and nibbling at his skin there. He moans, tilting his head away to let you explore further. Taking your hand off his neck, you work to open and unzip his slacks. Tugging at the waistbands of his slacks and boxer briefs, he lifts up his hips so you can pull them down to his thighs. You look down to watch as his cock slides downwards, caught in the band until you bring them down far enough for it to snap upward and smack his abdomen, Satoru letting out a pained hiss as it does. His member is long and thick with a pretty-pink tip. It’s quite beautiful, really.

You look up again to meet Satoru’s eyes with a devilish grin. You can’t fucking wait to feel his member inside you. With a couple of long, drawn-out pumps down his length, he tilts his head back over the couch to let out a long moan. It’s music to your ears. Bringing your hand to your cunt, you gather some of your juices and coat your fingers. Wrapping your hand around him again, you pump harder and faster this time, gliding with ease when adding your slick. Satoru can only grip harder into your sides.

“Oh, you’re going to kill me, baby,” he gasps, “please, sit down on my cock. I don’t know how much more I can take.” He brings his head forward again to rest on your chest, and you take the opportunity to kiss the back of his neck.

“Okay, okay, baby,” you comply, taking the fat tip of his cock and positioning your entrance on top of it. Satoru quickly looks up again, wanting to watch your expression as you take him in. Slowly, you lower yourself onto him, letting his tip enter the first ring of muscle. You can't help but let out a moan, bring your hands to Satoru’s shoulders for support.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Satoru coos, “take as much time as you need baby,” rubbing his hands in circles across your hips, he brings his mouth up to yours and slips his tongue in, to which you suck sensually. You can taste yourself on him, and it turns you on.

You lower yourself a bit further now that you have adjusted, and it feels euphoric. Although you know it’s probably best to wait a bit more, you can’t help but push yourself to the limit to fully feel all of him. You need him. Gradually, in one continuous movement, you take him to the hilt. Not breaking away from his kiss, you wrap your arms around his head and completely relax yourself. Satoru’s tip was resting on your cervix, and you decided to start off with a couple pulses for good measure.

Once he realized what was happening, he broke free from your lips and gasped, “Oh, you naughty girl. You could just do that and you would milk me for all that I have.”

“Another time,” you smirk and lift yourself about halfway up his shaft to then quickly slam yourself back down again. Satoru cries out, thighs flexing in response. “I want all of you.”

“Yes,” he cries out, “you have me, baby. You have me now. Forever.” Bringing his hand down to your heat, his fingers swirl around your clit. You let out a gasp as he takes your juices and brings it to your nipple, covering it with your slick. Satoru then leans down and sucks on it ferociously.

“Oooo, yes, baby, yes, I love that,” you moan out, allowing yourself to start riding him fully. “You have all of me too, baby. Forever.” You quickly find a good pace, the sounds of your bodies slapping together sends you into overdrive. You can hear your pussy squelching over his cock, making you more aroused at the lewd noise. Satoru’s hands have found their way to the plush underside of your ass, helping support your weight as you move up and down on him.

With his member pounding your cervix, his mouth working wonders on your breast, and his hands spreading you apart, you can't help but feel yourself starting to tense up, coil threatening to snap. Satoru recognizes this, feeling the familiar sensation of your pussy clenching much like it did around his fingers. He can feel himself starting to let go, but forces himself to hold it together long enough for you to explode. 

And that's exactly what you do. Holding him closely and shutting your eyes, your movements turn sloppy as you ride him to your release. 

“Satoru, Satoru, Satoru, yes, Satoru…” Crying out his name, you let go completely, giving yourself over to him.

Satoru moans out as well, and you swear you feel him twitch inside you, but nothing spills over. Opening your eyes and looking down towards him, you can see that he’s fighting to keep it together.

“Satoru-” you begin to question, but let out a yelp as he lifts you off of him effortlessly. The world spins, and you find yourself thrown over the armrest of the couch, head dipping towards the floor with your ass up in the air. Not more than two seconds pass before he’s grabbed you by the waist and is slamming into you from behind. 

“Ah!” you scream, tone somewhere between shock and pleasure, “Satoru!”

“Sorry baby,” he apologizes, but you can tell he's grinning from ear to ear, “but it’s my turn to fuck you.”

Satoru begins to pound into you without restraint. You can tell that he has one goal: to cum hard and fast. You’re obsessed with the way he lets his inhibitions go, knowing he can only be this vulnerable with you.

“Fuck, I-” he chokes out, “I- I love your smile. I love your eyes. I love your body. I love the way that you feel around me. I love your voice when you cry out my name. I love how-” his voice breaks again. You can tell that he’s reached his peak.

“I love you, god, I love you,” Satoru grabs you by your shoulders, lifting you up to him so your back is now to his chest. His arms wrap around you, engulfing you in a tight embrace and burying his face into your neck. His thrusts were not letting up, but they were getting sloppier. 

“I love you too, Satoru,” your heart swells, “You know I’ve loved you for a long time, baby.” You can feel tears brimming in your eyes and you quickly grab onto his forearms, craving more of his touch. You feel him nod into your neck. He knew, he always knew.

“You wanna cum baby? You wanna cum inside my pussy?” you coo at him. “Give it all to me, I want to feel you fill me up so good.” 

You felt Satoru tense for one last time. Slowing down slightly, he pauses every time he hits your wall. Bringing one of his hands down to your lower stomach, he presses into you to feel the sensation of him inside you. With one last thrust, he’s spilling over, and you can feel thick ropes of his seed coat your insides. If you felt full before, you were even fuller now.

Satoru came, but he didn't want to leave just yet. Very carefully, with him still inside you, he picks you up to bring you to spoon him on the couch. 

You laid there for a while, just enjoying the feeling of each other while you drifted in and out of sleep. While watching you intently and grazing the outside of your arm with his fingertips, Satoru decided then and there that he would formally ask you to be his girlfriend tomorrow, although he already wanted to call you his wife. He never thought he would allow himself to see a future with you, never thought he could forgive himself for putting you in danger. But now that he has made that step, there’s so many possibilities. All he knows is that he never wants to do anything without your support and love, and he will do anything to protect you. No one was going to take him away from you. He loves you, in every sense of the way. 

“Satoru?” you call out to him, still in a sleepy state.

“Yes, my love?” 

“You wanna sleep over at my place tonight?” You ask, a little shyly.

Satoru chuckles softly, “Of course, baby.” You feel him smile, hand coming up to pinch your earlobe.

The sensation sent you back in time. A time where you witnessed Satoru Gojo pleading for your future everyday at your bedside. You know now that he was pleading for something more – a  future with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: Aye! Let me know what you think! <3

#gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru smut

[brabblesblog]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Ch 11: I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

Preparations for the wedding begin.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Art commissioned from the amazing @dafna-winchester

Astarion peered down at his hand, eyeing the ring now wrapped around his ring finger. A simple gold band, not too thick - lovely, if a little too plain, he mused. Beside him Ban admired her own ring, just as simple, much to his displeasure.

He’d allowed her to select the rings, allowed her pretty much free rein over organizing the wedding, content with watching her fulfill her dreams of being wed to him.

Married. Such an odd notion, especially for him. Over two centuries old and he’d never considered it would happen for him, especially after he’d turned. He’d dismissed it as a youthful dream, stolen away by his undeath. He’d never thought he’d find the person he was meant for, and even when he’d been confident it was her, there had been so many things that had threatened it.

He remembered the first hundred or so bodies he’d lain with. He’d dreaded feeling that certainty and devotion when he’d bedded them, terrified of finding his thiramin in a victim he would have no hope of saving. What would he have done if his heart had stirred for someone who was doomed by simply having met him? The loss would have likely driven him to madness; elves often went insane, many ended their lives, when they lost their thiramin. He had no illusions that Cazador would have allowed him a second death had that happened to him. He couldn’t imagine what he would have become.

But then the years had stretched on, endless and dreary, and none of them ever stirred him. He’d thought no one ever would. His heart had lain still, silent save for the slow, undead beats, and he’d resigned himself to an eternity of loneliness. Of being less than whole.

She had brought that dream back, though. She’d awakened his heart, made it long for more. And then she’d restored it. His heart, now beating, living. Hers.

He looked back down at the ring, feeling the cool metal with his fingers. Whatever style it would be, he knew he’d find it perfect. However…

“You could at least add a rock or two, Ban.” He looked over at her. “Rubies, to match my eyes. Diamonds, to match my skin…”

He gave her a gentle nudge and Ban playfully bumped her shoulder against his. He smirked, stepping behind her as if to admire the display from over her shoulder. His hands slowly slid down her back to grip her ass, squeezing through the thin fabric of her dress. He noted the lack of underwear, pleasantly surprised.

“It seems like there’s less… material here than usual,” he purred into her ear. She shivered as his hands traced the curve of her ass.

“I figured you’d want easier access if you chose to end our little game early.”

“Tempting, but that won’t work.” He pressed against her back, hands reaching over her, as if he were merely admiring the ring on her finger. He lifted her hand up so that it shone in the light; as he did, he surreptitiously ground his hips against her ass, cock nestling in the cleft.

She jerked hard, gasping in surprise, then pressed back against him. He allowed it for several deliciously torturous seconds, allowed himself this small moment of intense desire as he closed his eyes and imagined bending her over the stall, vendors be damned, the wares clattering to the ground as he spread her legs, sliding his cock deep inside her…

He forced his eyes open, drawing away, chuckling at the bereft whine that came out of her.

“Later? When we’re alone?” Ban pleaded, making no effort to hide the desperation in her voice. He gave her a small shake of the head.

“I’ve never wanted anything more, my love, but sadly I must decline. You won’t get out of it that easily; you ought to know that by now.” He nipped her neck playfully, enjoying her quiet groan, then nodded at the ring on her hand. “Better get back to ring shopping, love. Were I you I’d reconsider the choice of design. Vanity aside… stones would add a little more luxury to it.”

“If I got rocks, it would be woefully inconvenient. It would snag on things, and were we to get into a scrap, it would easily get damaged. Another thing to worry about.”

He thought about this for a moment.

“Engravings would not catch on clothing nor weapons,” he suggested. She’d chosen the rings from a selection the jeweler had presented them with, and she had picked these. He hadn’t complained, especially when she said she’d want them to match, but a tad more opulence never hurt.

She turned to the jeweler to discuss alterations. Astarion watched her, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

The past few tendays had been a bustle of activity, the wedding planning having taken precedence over everything else. Tailors, florists, caterers, jewelers - the list had been almost endless, the palace almost never empty. Nights were the only quiet moments, even more so now that they were playing their game. Abstaining from sex wasn’t easy for either of them, but they’d been having fun with it, and the lack meant their nights were spent wrapped in each other’s arms, discussing anything and everything. He found he loved it, even when the conversation went to heavier topics, as it had the other night.

“Astarion,” she murmured, nuzzling against his neck. He gave a small hmm? in response, opening his eyes. He’d been drifting off, thoughts of tomorrow’s meeting with the florist and the frankly overwhelming choices of floral arrangements looming annoyingly large in his mind.

She traced a path downwards with her lips, ending at the hollow of his throat. “I still don’t know what to do with Adrien. I don’t think we’ll be able to convince my parents to reveal anything, much less help me see him.”

Ah. He’d been turning the idea over in his mind, considering possible methods to prise the information from Roderich.

“Would Adrien be amenable to meeting you in secret?”

She scoffed, her breath tickling his skin. “He would never dare defy them to such a degree. He’d… he’d tell me to ask them, or have the meeting with them present. I’m not even certain where he is, or how I can establish contact with him. He… he might even hate me for leaving, which I guess I deserve.”

“Hate you for leaving?” he asked, incredulous. “And since when has it become your problem that your sibling cannot stand up for himself?”

Ban pressed her head against the swell of his chest. He’d wrapped a comforting hand over her head, pressing her closer to his heart. “I was the older sister. I could… should have done more.”

“Did he ever stand up for you?”

She fell silent, merely shaking her head.

He sighed. “You’re not required to save everyone. You never were,” he added, irritation creeping into his voice. An old grievance - not that he minded her saving him and their companions, of course - but the fact that she always somehow thought it her responsibility to help out, even when it risked herself, irked him.

“Oh, I know,” she shrugged. “But it should be what I want to do. Or at least what a better person would want to do.”

He blinked, surprised. “I never mentioned it being something you should be doing, Ban. I merely assumed you, with your bleeding heart back then-”

She laughed, and he found himself even more confused, brow furrowing. He looked down at her as she peered from where she’d snuggled against his chest; to his shock she seemed mildly amused.

“Bleeding heart?” She shook her head. “Far from it, Astarion. Too far, even.”

“Then what of the tieflings? The gnomes? You had us save each and every one of them - a tiresome task, which I’m sure I’ve mentioned to you.” The confusion gave way to incredulity. “Are you saying you never really… cared?”

She splayed a hand over the dip in his chest, silent. He noticed she looked away, as if considering something; he felt her mind touch his and let her in.

He was holding a greatsword, effortlessly hefting its weight in both hands. Before him a tiefling spoke, begging for help. He could feel his lungs exhale in a sigh, a surge of irritation in his mind. He opened his mouth.

“Astarion! We need to help them. Can you come with me?”

He saw himself, clad in that drow’s armor, striding closer. “Must we?” His other self stood lackadaisically, hands on hips.

He felt fond amusement, bordering on giddy joy, and intense affection. His eyes couldn’t even seem to lock onto his other self, heart racing and cheeks flushing as he attempted to do so. His back straightened up and he spoke, eyes pointedly fixed at a spot above the other Astarion’s hair.

“They need help. So,” his hand rose, letting go of the massive sword long enough to beckon. The hand came into his view.

Her hand. Her memories. He’d known, of course, but it was still rather novel watching his past self glower as he approached her. It was far more amusing to feel her silly crush, a warmness seeping through her at his mere presence.

But beyond that, the feeling she wanted him to notice was there: an irritation with the tieflings, tamped down by a begrudging reminder that helping them would be the right thing to do.

The vision shifted, and he was her yet again, a man covered in soot before her. She felt the man’s ring in her pocket, tempted, for a split second, to walk away with it. They did need the gold, and for a fleeting moment she considered giving it to Astarion, then stopped herself. He’d consider it a stupid gesture.

She saw Astarion burst in through the broken doors beside her, scowling at the smoke; the color of the feelings immediately changed, turning into pleasant excitement and glee at having him near.

“Darling,” his past self drawled, “let’s just go. This place won’t do our clothes any favors.”

She sighed and made a decision, hand slipping into her pocket, fishing out the ring for the man. He saw his old self sigh.

Another memory, this one of Oskar Fevras. She’d convinced the Zhent to let him go, but…

He could feel her debating whether to give the man some coin. Her thoughts flitted from an outright no to a perhaps; she then turned to him.

“The pouch, please,” she said, all confident and unfazed when his past self inevitably grumbled, but inwardly hanging onto every word and move he made.

Again, the feeling was there, the annoyance at Oskar for bothering them, the urge to just let him leave penniless - it wasn’t my concern, she thought - and then a reluctant voice in her head told her to do better.

He finally pulled away from her mind, opening his eyes to see her still peering up at him. She averted her eyes the moment they met.

“Not… good,” she stated. “Never was, like I said.”

She had indeed said so before, but he hadn’t really believed her then. He huffed out a laugh, masking the sheer relief settling into him. Not good, indeed. How long had he tormented himself with the idea that he’d ruined her, that she’d corrupted herself by allowing his ascension? Not that he hadn’t, he mused - seven thousand dead was quite a few degrees worse than anything they’d ever done before or since - but the confirmation that she was no saint, not an angel whose wings he’d torn off and dragged to hell with him was a relief. He ruffled her hair again, a little rougher this time, amused by her snort of annoyance for messing it up.

“You’ve mentioned that, yes.” He clenched his jaw. “At the time I thought you meant the events of the rite.”

She bit her lip. He could almost taste the way she began to turn away, her expression closing off. But it lasted for mere seconds. Instead she exhaled heavily.

“No. I meant… always. Being good, or moral, I suppose, is work, work I constantly have to remind myself to do. I don’t want to be what they raised me to be, as natural as it feels.” Her eyes finally met his. “I want to be more, and…” she shrugged, “I’ve failed. Especially when it mattered most.”

“If you mean helping me at the rite…” he began, fingers stilling on the path they had been taking on her head.

“No. I mean with you. After.” She sat up, biting her lip. “You made mistakes. I made more. It just didn’t fix anything.” He watched her fingers twist and tangle as she continued. “When I first saw you, I saw that you were like me, that… being better isn’t in your nature, either.” She was interrupted by his rather humorless laugh.

“You could say that, yes.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation she felt a small smile ghost her lips. “I saw that… that you were like me. But you were also in so much pain. So much suffering in so beautiful a man, in so precious a soul.” She watched his eyes widen and squeezed his hand. “I saw you at night, saw how you sought solace in my arms when nightmares haunted you. Saw how you kept everyone else at arm’s length, even if at first I thought you actually were attracted to me.”

Astarion pressed his lips to the top of her head then, placing a short, intense kiss as an apology. She squeezed his bicep, sending a thought through. It’s alright.

“I forgave you that a long time ago. Probably would have forgiven you the second you did it. I can’t blame you, after all. I’m no great beauty.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I just saw all that sorrow, saw that you needed kindness. Needed care.” With every word she traced his cheekbone, then moved to his jawline.

“I wanted to be your rock, then. To protect you, to be where you could hide. Even if…” she swallowed, “even if I could not let you in. Not enough.”

He huffed, a sharp exhale of breath, and she looked up in surprise. Part of him wanted to assuage her concerns about her physical beauty, but he decided to tackle the more pertinent issues first. “I did not need a cave to shelter in, Ban. I needed a home.” She opened her mouth to apologize, but he continued. “Be that as it may, I was… not aware of it, at the time. What I needed and what I wanted were two entirely distinct things.”

“I’m sorry.”

His arms tightened around her. “Forgiven, as you know all too well. As for… what you really are, Ban. Why refuse me a glimpse of that? You knew we were alike; you had to have known I’d have wholeheartedly accepted you as you have done for me.”

“Thought I could be better. Thought… you needn’t carry that burden. That you deserved someone whole and good, someone you could give your suffering to, without worrying about theirs. Someone strong.” He watched her avert her eyes, hiding by skating kisses across the plane of his chest. He appreciated the honesty, particularly because it wasn’t the easiest thing for her.

“Ban,” Astarion admonished. It was a soft, gentle murmur, but one that told her in no uncertain terms that he wanted her full attention. He waited until she looked at him to continue. “I’d have loved to know all of you. Perhaps I would have pretended to be slightly miffed,” he joked, “to have to share your burdens, but I would have been secretly honored. Inside.”

“Deep inside,” Ban teased, poking his chest. He nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Astarion’s hand resumed stroking her hair. “So. Is this drive to do the right thing the reason why you’re so keen on saving your brother from your parents?”

“Possibly. I’m not sure; it’s an urge - to at the very least know how he’s doing. And the way my parents were acting… there’s definitely something hidden there. Something rotten.”

Astarion mulled this over, silent for several moments. “We could yet pry the information from Roderich, I think. A simple yet precise application of coin, some strings tugged on and favors called…”

“I’m listening,” Ban said, her curiosity obviously piqued.

“Focus your attentions on our wedding, love,” he assured her. “Let me handle this. All you need to worry about that day is being the beautiful,” he tugged her up so that they were eye to eye, “wonderful bride that you are.”

He noticed that she shook her head almost imperceptibly. “Would you indulge me, love? Never say you’re not attractive. I won’t stand for it. Is that understood?” There was a firmness in that last question, one reminiscent of the Ascendant.

“We should admit I’m not-”

“Conventionally attractive? As if convention or the opinion of the masses ever mattered to anyone, least of all me.” He tilted her chin to face him and kissed her deeply, roughly, sucking on her bottom lip. He let his hips buck, let her feel his cock press against her belly as he gripped the back of her head to deepen the kiss. She whimpered, and he groaned in response, throaty and deep, holding nothing back.

“See?” he breathed, pulling away from the kiss. “I do think you were made to ruin me, and as much as that was a silly line at the time… I mean it.” She laughed, and he savored the sound, pecking her cheek. “Besides, the Vampire Ascendant could not have had bad taste when he chose his consort, couldn’t he?” he teased.

“Fine,” she acquiesced. “I’ll agree that at least you find me cute.”

“Far more than that, darling, but I think we can settle on cute for now. I can show you how enthralling I find you after our…” he drifted a hand down, skating over her hips, “little game…” he pressed the heel of his palm over her mound, allowing her to grind him briefly, “...is over.”

“Scrolls, flowers, or some other design?” Ban asked, holding out the sample rings to him.

“Scrolls,” he answered, returning his focus to her.

She relayed his preference to the jeweler, turning to him once it was settled.

“You do seem to like scrollwork, considering the new mirror.” Yet another mirror, this one purchased from the master of the mirror-makers’ guild.

“It has a measure of sophistication, I suppose, one Roderich’s monstrosity rather… lacks.” He tilted his head to watch her, delighted to see her snort at his remark. It wasn’t that Roderich’s creation was horrible, he figured - but he did find it perhaps a touch ostentatious. He recalled Roderich calling the design dated and realized belatedly that the man had been right.

“It’s a lot prettier,” Ban agreed. “You’ll look wonderful reflected in it, once your suit arrives.”

His eyes crinkled in amusement. “Darling, I don’t need a mirror to know that.”

“I know,” she chuckled. “It’s still nice though, for you to be able to see yourself.”

Astarion froze for a moment, unsure what to say. Of course. “You’ll look lovely too, I’m quite certain. You already manage to enchant me every single day - no doubt you’ll be positively captivating in your dress.”

“Sure. I’ll have you show me, come the day.” She paused. “Perhaps I’ll ask Gale for a simulacrum. You could stand next to it and I could see how we both look in our finery.” She waved a hand at him, seemingly wanting to leave the conversation at that; the expression on her face, however, wasn’t hidden at all. Melancholy.

“You miss it, don’t you,” he murmured.

“I… do.” She shrugged. “But it’s not too big an issue. You can always show me what I look like, whether it be by linking minds or through your flattery.”

“Is that what I am now? Your poor husband, relegated to being a seeing glass?” He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, mimicking woefulness.

Ban laughed. “You act like looking at me is such a hard task.”

“Oh, but it is. Grueling, in fact,” he leaned in, a hand pulling her flush to his side, “it’s extremely difficult, to look at you and not touch you,” he whispered, lips hovering a hairsbreadth away from hers, “to speak words of praise and not put my mouth on you, on every inch of you, taste you.”

He chuckled, pulling away the moment she tried to go for a kiss. “I wouldn’t consider the truth to be mere flattery, my love.”

She playfully swatted at him, then squeezed his hand, a small gesture of gratefulness and understanding.

The thought, however, dwelled on his mind. It wasn’t as if he’d ever forgotten - all the commissioned art was for her to be able to see herself in some manner. He knew it wasn’t the same, but that had been the only way he’d thought of.

But the desire to give her some more permanent way to see herself, and Gale’s name, had tangled in his mind, eventually becoming the nebulous beginnings of an idea.

He followed her as she walked towards another stall, wrapping an arm around her waist. He searched for a topic to discuss, something to cheer her up.

“We’ve been invited to a party, a tenday after our wedding. The guildmaster Meiros’ daughter is to celebrate her twenty-first birthday.”

She considered this. “Meiros. You purchased the new mirror from him, yes?”

“Indeed I did. He used some newfangled method for it - apparently Barcus Wroot’s mining operation has proven more fruitful than we expected.”

“That was a good idea, suggesting Barcus go back and claim the Grymforge. Unfortunate that we didn’t introduce him to Meiros ourselves, but then again, we weren’t aiming to rub shoulders with mirror-makers then.” She inspected a silk scarf, looking thoughtful. “I was doing everything in my power to avoid approaching anything related to mirrors.”

“It makes little difference - I mentioned being well-acquainted with the gnome to Meiros. If he had his wits about him he picked up what I was alluding to.”

He groaned. “As for the party… I do so loathe that we have to go - it’s pointless mingling amongst whoever else his daughter’s invited, and I highly doubt hobnobbing with a gaggle of vapid young women is going to do us any good.”

“It’s the father you want, anyway,” Ban commented, her hands running over a selection of tanned hides, considering them for shoes for Astarion. She held one up, handing it to him to inspect. Astarion took it from her with deliberate slowness, allowing his fingers to drag across the back of her hand, pairing the caress with a dark, hungry look that made her shiver.

“Will you ever tell me what the plan is, regarding that?”

A smirk crossed his features. “As I previously mentioned, love, I will handle it while you concern yourself with the wedding planning. Don’t you trust me?” He selected the sample hide from the center of the set, a smooth calfskin.

“I do,” she answered without hesitation, “I’m merely curious.” She shot the hide he’d selected a suspicious glance. “That will scratch easily, you know. Especially in white.”

He grumbled and looked through the other samples, reconsidering. Purchasing the mirror was only the first step; a little more would be required for his plan.

“You’ll need a gift,” Ban said from beside him.

She tapped another sample. “Rothe-hide. Much tougher.”

“For the lucky debutante, you mean,” Astarion nodded.

He fingered the hide Ban pointed at, finding the texture thick but a little rough. “I can hardly imagine talking to one, let alone figuring out something one would want.”

She frowned. “A book, a satchel… a portrait. There are options.”

“Gifts,” he sighed. “Even now I can see the endless parade of them arriving at our doorstep, and I haven’t the foggiest what to do with them.”

“You say thank you, and you put them in storage.” She watched him finally settle for the rothe-hide.

“Some of them are rather useful. Halsin’s previous gift, for instance, was enlightening.”

“And in storage,” Ban reminded. She took a moment to admire the swell of his ass as he was turned away, engaged in conversation with the tanner. She moved in close, grabbing a handful before he could even notice.

Astarion yelped, then rounded on her. “Bad girl. Very, very naughty.” He set the hide sample down, slowly crowding her against the side of the stall in his sensual, predatory way. But she knew exactly what move he’d attempt and as he closed in she slipped away, laughing.

“Getting slow, old man.” She dodged yet another attempt to grab her wrist.

He stared at her for a moment, mouth agape. “Old. Old?” He clutched his chest. “You wound me so, my love.” He ambled up to her, watching her smirk widen as she held her ground. He leaned down, breath tickling her face. She could smell traces of the blood he’d had for breakfast on it. “You’ll have to take that back the moment our little game ends.”

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows. “I highly doubt that.” Astarion knew it was a lie - the way she shifted her hips, pressing her legs together, was more than enough indication. The smile grew wider.

“Then allow me to continue teasing you,” he whispered. “Let me keep tantalizing you. If these attempts are futile, then you will have won, and I shall stop. If you lose…” he kissed her lips for a fraction of a second, “then I shall redouble my efforts and make sure you can’t think of anything else other than your dear, old, husband.”

She stifled a giggle. “You can try, Astarion. We’ll see by tonight.” She changed the topic in an attempt to hide how flustered she was, though it was futile - he could still see the faint flush on her cheeks. “I’m sure we’ll find some use for every present, whether it be collecting dust or something actually useful.”

She was lying in bed when Astarion walked into the bedroom, a triumphant grin on his face. He was carrying a small, wooden box, rather dusty and vaguely familiar.

“Don’t bring that to bed, Astarion,” she warned. He paused, raised an eyebrow at her, and headed towards her anyways. She stood, quickly heading to the chaise.

“Really? We could have the sheets replaced. This,” he tapped the chaise as he sat, “is not so easily cleaned.”

She snorted. “Smartass.” She sat down, legs crossed, and he took the spot opposite her, box still in hand. She eyed it, trying to remember what it was.

“A gift? Or something else?”

He beamed at her, fingers unlatching the lock and lifting the lid.

Letters. From when I was in Waterdeep. She swallowed. “Where did you find this?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “I stumbled into one of our storage rooms the other day and had a quick rummage.”

She eyed him carefully. “Part of… whatever plans you have for my father?”

“Perhaps.” He pushed the box towards her, eyes glinting with excitement.

“Astarion…” she hesitated, looking at the papers within. Did they really want to bring this up, that painful time apart? “Does this not…” she trailed off. Hurt you?

He sensed her question and the smile fell, replaced by a somber, if earnest, expression. He picked up some of the letters. “It should. I recall writing them, knowing it was a meager gesture, but they were the only way I could reach you then.” He bit his lip, considering his words as he unfolded one.

“You kept them. All of them.” He looked at her, eyes wide. “You arranged them according to when they arrived, saved them all in this box, and…” he smiled again, eyes crinkling, “you drafted answers on the backs.”

“I… did,” she nodded, picking one from the pile and turning it over. There it was, in her own neat, if rather childlike, handwriting. Big, circular letters that spelled out her feelings. That she did miss him, missed him so much it hurt, so much she could barely sleep. That she wanted him back, if only he’d try harder, meet her halfway. She sighed.

Astarion watched her every move. His hand gripped her knee. “You never told me any of this. Never… let me know you were miserable too, that you longed for me just as much as I did you.”

“I know. I’m sorry… you know why. I couldn’t, back then. Refused to show you anything resembling weakness.”

He nodded, taking the letter from her and reverently placed it back in the box. He closed it and put it down on the floor. The moment he straightened up she spread her arms, beckoning him to her. He tilted his head, a grin settling over his features when he realized what she was asking for. He obliged, settling into her embrace as she reclined, his head pillowed against her breasts, one of his legs slung over one of hers.

He took a small breath. “There is a silver lining to seeing those letters, I suppose.” She guessed that was why he seemed happy about finding them. She waited for him to continue.

“They tell me you cared. Even in the depths of our despair you yearned for me as well. Your heart reached for me, as mine reached for you,” he murmured into her skin. “You simply could not allow yourself to tell me. You were… hiding, just as I was.”

Her fingers tightened where they had settled in his curls, kneading the back of his head in a massage. He exhaled, breath hot against her skin. “Again, Astarion, I really am sor-”

A hand reached up, palm covering her mouth. He shook his head at her. “Enough. I choose to take what I unearthed as something… positive. Don’t ruin it.” He leaned up and his thigh pushed up against her mound, delightfully arousing in its simplicity. She swallowed heavily.

“You were hiding… and that is fine,” he whispered, leaning forwards to aim his words into her ear. “So was I. But that was then,” he ground his hips, rubbing his cock against her leg, pushing his thigh more firmly against her rapidly-dampening core. “And this is now.”

He didn’t remove his hand from her mouth, and when she tried to speak again he shushed her. “No more words from those pretty lips, my love. I don't want to hear you beg to touch me, because I have no intention of allowing it. There is no need to waste your breath.”

Astarion was merely tormenting them both, she assumed. He moaned as he rubbed himself on her thigh, smirking when her eyes widened at the sound.

He had been teasing her constantly all month. Light, deft touches, his fingertips ghosting over sensitive spots, speaking a little too close to her ear, sometimes breathy, sometimes growling. She’d loved it, even as her body had begged to be touched and taken each time.

He'd also gotten into the annoying habit of grinding into her ass when they spooned before bed. He’d do it once, twice, sometimes several times, then pull away, smirking all the while. He especially liked it when he managed to elicit a needy moan from her, and try as she might to keep them in - not wanting to give him the satisfaction - she almost always failed.

Oh, she knew he was suffering as well. She could feel the insistent, likely painful, throb of his cock every time he pressed against her, the heat of him even more than usual - almost fiery. She imagined that were she to wrap her hand around him, she'd merely have to stroke once and he’d come undone. One quick pass, one swipe of her thumb on his slit, or perhaps one lick against the underside of his cockhead, and-

“Ban.” He gasped her name against the shell of her ear. She blinked.

“Are you with me?” Astarion’s face changed from seductive to concerned. He lifted his hand from her mouth, easing his body off of hers. She paused, realizing this could be an opportunity to give him a little taste of his own medicine. Bracing herself, she grabbed his waist and twisted, aiming to pin him under her. She saw his eyes widen in surprise, and knew she had won.

…but not quite. She had him under her, but his hand was firmly around her neck.

Astarion laughed, tickled by her attempt. “Good try.”

“Had I twisted the other way,” Ban nodded towards the fireplace in front of them, “I could have rolled us off the chaise and onto the carpet, grabbed the poker, and staked you.” She simpered. “I win.”

“And I could have broken your neck whilst you were debating on which way to roll,” he countered, hand squeezing for a fraction of a second. “Strong as you are, my dear,” the fingers on her neck danced, tapping against her skin in a pattern only he knew, “dexterous hands are far likelier to succeed.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he swallowed her words with a fierce kiss. She fought the urge to grind against the thigh between her legs, failing miserably. The hand on her neck somehow managed to convey aggression and tenderness at the same time - something in the way his fingertips stroked her neck with such exquisite gentleness while his palm remained firm and controlled her movement - and she loved it. His breath was hot against her skin, his body deliciously warm beneath her. It was all she could do not to beg for more.

He parted from the kiss to let out a shuddery breath. “Gods,” he moaned in a whisper, “wouldn’t it be exquisite to have me inside you?” His hand roamed down her back to her ass, pressing down so she sat on his cock. “If I was sheathed inside you, my love… losing myself in you…” he purred, his hips rolling to accentuate his words. “Fingers dancing where you need them most... Lips… crying out for you.” He finished his little spiel with the smuggest of grins, knowing he had her - she was hopelessly wet and needy.

Ban exhaled, squeezing her eyes shut, then shifted off him. “You win,” she said meekly. “I cannot contest any of that.”

Astarion smirked, sitting up. She caught a quick glimpse of his cock straining against his pants before he crossed his legs; that made her smile. “At least I’m not the only one.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “As frustrating as it is, I promise you. It will be worth it.”

“I know.” Her eyes softened. “I know it’s important to you, and that’s all I need to make it worth suffering for.”

He snorted. “It’s hardly suffering-” he cut off as she rolled her eyes, holding his hands up. “Alright. It is torture. Still, a little exercise in patience never hurt anyone. Besides, it was your idea to make it the whole month, rather than merely a tenday.” She sat on the floor in front of the chaise; he leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

“I do thank you for indulging me, however. It means more than you know. Little remains of who I was before my life was taken from me. I am glad to have some small part of it returned to me, even if it is for something as admittedly silly as this.”

"I wouldn't say silly." She mused, her voice thoughtful. "It's part of your heritage, and my heart does not mind it in the slightest, even if other parts of me do." She smiled, leaning her head back against the plush cushion. Her eyes shut, and she felt his fingers ruffle her hair.

There were more plans to make, and their lives would inevitably be even busier as the wedding approached, so for now she savored the silence, indulging in the quiet companionship.

She felt him touch her mind as he laid on the chaise, his hand still on her head.

It was in these little moments, these little snippets of eternity - where she felt most at home.

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[waynes-multiverse]

Plastic Hearts – Part 21

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut (p in v, dirty talk, spanking), fluff, angst, comfort

Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: It's finally happening! Get the Office gifs ready 👀😂 It's so good to bring this series back after such an unexpectedly long time away. We've got five more chapters left, so let's make 'em count with as much drama and ridiculousness as possible, shall we? Ready? And action! 🎬

<< 20 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

21. Rock You Like A Hurricane

Dean swallows the clot that has formed in the back of his throat as the first button of her white cotton blouse flies open. The air in the office feels dry, his mind hazy. Is he dreaming? Once again, he reminds himself to stop mixing booze and blow. It never ends well and barely ever helps.

Another step forward, another button, another swallow.

Y/N is a Fata Morgana, a mirage, slowly moving towards him through blurry lines and summer heat.

“Don’t you want me?”

The innocent lip bite that accompanies her question sends him downstairs, predestining him to burn in hellfire. He swallows again. Of course, he wants her. He always does.

The heels of his boots dig into the rotten floorboards as he pushes back on his office chair, enough to free his thighs from underneath the wooden desk and show off the bulging erection blooming in his jeans. It started to form as soon as she walked in and turned that damn lock behind her back.

The corners of her pink lips rise to a smile. She likes what she sees, and soon enough, she finds herself slotted between his bow legs with his greedy palms smoothing up her denim-clad thighs until they find a home on the juicy globes of her ass and squeeze tight. Green eyes darken as they wander up her frame before they meet two sparkling orbs that mirror his own lust back to him.

More buttons spring open, the blouse slipping off her shoulders and hitting the ground. A gray leotard becomes visible, two pointed peaks on luscious hills poking through the thin material, his mouth forming a ring around one of them, hot air igniting her skin and stealing her breath. Her arms weave around his neck, her head lolls back between her shoulder blades, her legs grow unsteady. Eyes close, fingers tangle in his hair and claw at his skin.

One large hand travels to the front, works the zipper of her jeans, and shimmies the denim fabric down two smooth thighs. His other arm snakes around her waist, holds her tight, and pulls her closer until she straddles his lap and lets their hips fuse into one.

Their eyes find each other. Gently, he brushes her hair out her face, tucks it behind her ears, strokes her flushed cheeks. She’s breathless and breathtaking, and then she dips her head and catches his lips, kissing him until he is, too.

“Wait, wait, wait…” He draws back in a drunk state of mind and gasps for air, hoping oxygen will help in clearing his head.

“What?” She pouts, her voice velvety soft and delirious.

“I just-… I have to ask you something first, make sure…” The air works wonders, the fog dissipates from his mind. Green eyes watch her closely. There’s something off, something wrong, something out of place. Y/N wouldn’t just stroll into his office and throw herself at him. As much as he enjoys this little dream sequence, it’s not who she is. “Why are you doing this? You’re not-, uhm…” He swallows harshly, his mind racing in circles. “You’re not fucking me, so I’ll stop being mad at you, right? ‘Cause that’s not what I want.”

God, the thought alone kills him. It’s his goddamn nightmare. What if he subconsciously manipulated her to do this? What if he’s taking advantage of her? What if he drove her so desperate that she sees this as her only option? What if she actually doesn’t want this?

But a gentle smile forms on her face instead. She pecks his lips, rests her forehead against his, and softly shakes her head. There’s amusement in her voice. “You already said you weren’t mad at me, remember?”

“Then why?”

Y/N shrugs and licks her ample lips. “I want to. I want you… You’re the best guy I know. I can’t think of anyone I’d want this with more,” she assures him with a sweet smile and caresses the scruff on his cheeks, her hips grinding against his crotch. “It’s just-…” She bites down on her lower lip, cutting off her sentence.

“What? Tell me, sweetheart.” He clutches her chin and draws her gaze to meet his eyes.

“Even with the show being over, I don’t want the girls to find out,” she confesses nervously.

Dean nods in understanding and gifts her a smile. “Lucky for you, I’m good at keeping secrets. Have I ever let you down in that regard?”

She thinks for a beat, then shakes her head and matches his smile. “No.”

“See?” He grins, showing his pearly white teeth, and pulls her lips back to his for a searing kiss that seals their deal.

His hands begin to roam the curves they’re holding, her hips rocking against his in a needy rhythm, desperately searching for more friction to scratch the unbearable itch he seems to cause.

“Need you so bad, need this cock so bad…” she whispers between kisses and ragged breaths.

“Yeah? You think you can get off like that?” Dean lifts his thigh a little higher, shoves it right against her clothed cunt to give her a bit more friction, and listens to her whimpers in satisfaction. “Show me how much you want this… want me, baby girl. Wanna know how desperate you are for this cock, Y/N. Work for it.” His challenge is accompanied by a little smirk, which soon disappears and becomes stuck in his throat when Y/N accepts with eager nods.

Shit, he really needs to stop underestimating her. That’s already been his first mistake when he met her.

Her arms lock tighter around his neck for more balance as she rubs her pussy against the rough denim that covers his thick thigh. Her breathing grows so labored that kissing becomes an impossibility, the need for air in her lungs greater than the need to stay connected. The strong arm slung around her waist helps her move while his other hand tweaks, pinches, and gropes her tit, prying the gray cotton of her leotard over one shoulder to free the flesh and expose her nipple to the cool office air and his hot breath. He feels a wet patch forming on his leg, sees the stain on his jeans from her arousal as he peeks down between them.

“Dean, I’m–…”

Y/N doesn’t have to say it out loud. He can see it on her face that she’s damn close. “Such a good girl. Cum for me, huh? Let me finally fill and stretch this nice pussy with my cock, baby. Been waiting for you,” he coos. “Bet you’re so tight, yeah? How long’s it been?” His tongue licks the hardened bud before he pops her tit in his mouth and sucks, bites, tears.

“Fuck!”

She explodes, his name falling from her lips in prayer as she trembles and quivers in his arms. Her mouth parts, sucks in as much air as she can to fuel her lungs. Her arms cling to him, fingers denting the skin on his broad shoulders.

“That’s my girl,” Dean praises her, smiling as he lets her ride out her orgasm. “So, so pretty when you come. I missed that face.”

“Dean, please… Need you inside me now,” she purrs against his lips, swallowing his groans as they connect.

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Uh-huh, please,” she begs breathily. “How d’you want me, boss?”

“What do you want, Y/N?” Hearing what a woman wants him to do to her or what she wants to do to him has always been one of the biggest turn-ons for him. “Tell me.”

“Want you to bend me over your desk, take me hard, punish me… Been a bad girl. Need you to punish me, please,” she whimpers and hungrily claims his lips, her nails digging into his jaw.

Now, Dean should probably be worried or at least stumped by her somewhat strange request. Not because it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard a woman ask for in the bedroom, but because it’s not necessarily something Y/N would say. However, she’s also an actress, and he’s about 99.9% sure she’s playing a role and following a script in her head. And well, hey, he likes playing too, so who would he be to deny her wishes? He’s been dreaming about spanking her ass and punishing his favorite Russian villain for weeks at this point.

“I think we can arrange that, baby girl,” he promises, a saucy smirk plastered on his lips. “But first – need to see your face when I break you in, yeah?”

Y/N grins and nods against his lips, her hand reaching down between their heated bodies and unbuckling his belt, pulling it from its loops, metal clinking before the sound of a zipper follows. Lifting her ass from his lap, he helps her strive off the denim, pushing it down his legs till it pools by his ankles, only leaving a thin barrier of cotton between them.

“Condom?”

Dean nods and motions for her to stand up, so he can reach into the bottom drawer of his desk. As he fishes out a foil packet, Y/N discards her leotard, nothing but naked skin and flesh left for his eyes to devour. Removing his own pair of boxers, his long cock bounces against his stomach and stretches to his belly button, fully erect, head swollen, and leaking at the tip. He tears the foil with his teeth and rolls the latex down his aching length before his hands drag her back into his lap.

Her arms settle on his muscular shoulders, her lips find and bruise his as he lines himself up with her entrance and threads his dickhead through her dripping folds. Her cunt is pink and glistening, hot and wet as he slowly slides inside, lets her feel every inch that fills her tight hole to the brim, her small body sinking down on him till they’re inseparable.

A moan escapes them both when he’s fully sheathed in her heat, and Dean knows lasting long would border on a miracle. Her mouth falls open as he stretches her tight walls, her eyes seeking his and not daring to look anywhere else. Unsurprisingly, Y/N takes direction well. She remains connected to him – mind, body, and soul.

“Fuck, Dean,” she breathes and swallows at the sheer thickness inside of her, her eyes finally falling closed as their foreheads meet.

Dean caresses her cheek and softly pecks her hairline. He then shuts his eyes as well and just focuses on the feeling of her wrapped around him for a blissful heartbeat. This is all he ever wanted.

Her. Here.

“You good?” he checks, his fingers trailing soothingly up and down her spine as she relaxes her muscles and adjusts to his size.

A gentle smile twitches and tugs on her lips. “Yeah, I’m great… You feel great.”

“You know, if you keep giving me compliments like that, it’s gonna be hard for me to smack your perky ass purple and blue,” he chuckles and watches a grin form.

“I like to make things hard for you,” she sasses and kisses his lips, her pussy purposely gripping his throbbing dick.

“There’s my bad girl.” Dean can’t fight the smile on his face. “Alright, you ready?”

Dean doesn’t have to wait for an answer as her hips begin to lift and rock against him, calming like the Pacific waves and soothing like the lullabies his mother used to sing when he was sick as a child.

“M-more,” Y/N whines, the needy desperation haunting her vocal chords.

“Beg for it,” Dean whispers, nuzzling his nose against her ear with a smirk.

“Please… Please fuck me, boss,” she rasps her pleas. “Need it hard and fast.”

“Anything you want, sweetheart.” Dean catches her lips, the kiss scorching and lasting before his hands smooth up her bare thighs and grab her ass tight, lifting them both from the chair.

Swiftly, her soles hit the ground as he swirls her in his hold and bends her over his desk. Her tits press flush against the wood, his palms finding her hips as he pulls her closer to him, ass up until it brushes against his solid length. With his knees, he spreads her legs wide and easily slots between them. He palms both asscheeks, caresses the skin before he administers his first slap, the sound echoing through his quiet office with her whimper as he watches the juicy flesh ricochet, completely entranced.

“You got a safe word, Y/N?” Dean asks as he soothes the red spot on her cheek.

“Hmmm,” she muses and bites her lower lip, and he can see the mischief twinkling in her orbs. She giggles, “What about ‘camera guy’?”

His palm strikes the other globe, making her yelp and jolt on the spot.

“Ow, fuck!” Y/N’s moan drowns in a laugh. “Jesus, Dean, I was just kidding.”

The director chuckles, “Yeah, well, I wasn’t.” With one harsh and fast thrust, he drives his cock back into her tight cunt, causing her to slam forward, her hips bruising against the desk. Her fingers curl tightly around the edge, knuckles white as she keeps herself pinned in place. He leans forward, his chest pressing against her back as his warm breath fans against the shell of her ear, his blunt fingernails denting the skin on her hips. Smirking, he demands, “Safe word. Now.”

“Fuck, uhm…” Breathlessly, her mind spirals, his cock slowly dragging in and out of her and not stopping to give her even a second to ponder. “Squirrel?”

“Squirrel it is,” he agrees amusedly, straightening as he picks up his pace and drives in deeper, watching as his dick gets swallowed by her soaking cunt, his swollen shaft glistening with her slick. “Shit, baby girl… Wish you could see how well you take me. Your needy little pussy sucks my fat cock right in,” he groans, listening in delight as his balls slap against her ass with each roll of his hips.

“Maybe you can bring your camera next time, boss,” Y/N mewls her suggestion as she falls apart underneath him.

“Yeah? Would you like that, huh? Would you like to see how fucking desperate you are for me, sweetheart?”

“Uh-huh, would love that, boss. Wanna see how you fuck me and split me open,” she breathes hazily, her moans getting louder with each slam of his hips. “F-fuck, so close… Wanna come on your cock, please.”

“Oh, we can arrange that, sweetheart,” Dean chuckles, his breathing growing more labored as well as sweat starts to collect on his skin in sticky beads. He’s close, too, feels his cock throb and swell inside of her. His palm smacks her asscheek one last time. She cries out with pleasure as the sting burns her skin, her pussy clenching around his dick and gripping it tight.

But just as his hand sneaks to her front and finds the sensitive little nub, their ears both perk up as the big metal door of the gym flies open and a wave of female chatter floods inside.

“Oh, shit!” Y/N moans loudly at his last violent pound into her pussy before Dean’s palm covers her mouth and stops the rest from spilling out.

Pulling her up, her back straightens and presses flush against his body. He slows his thrusts but still pushes in deep enough to tickle her cervix and keeps the little circles on her clit alive, feeling her knees give in as her legs become putty. Her breathing is harsh and restricted against his palm, her lips straining and tightening to keep the screams inside.

“Ssh, ssh, ssh… you’re doing so, so good, baby,” Dean whispers his praises into her ear and chuckles as she clenches hard around his dick. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Trust me, they won’t hear us over their blabbering,” he chuckles. “Relax, okay? Let loose… little more,” he orders her, feeling the tension in her muscles shift to her head as she bites down on his fingers to keep it locked inside. “There you go… Gonna need you to come quietly, and I’ll be right behind you, alright? Can you do that?” Y/N nods against his hand. “Good girl,” he coos and pecks her temple quickly.

And then, he draws out till only the tip remains inside her drenched channel before he roughly slams back in. His thrusts become relentless in both speed and force as he fucks her, her screams of pleasure only muffled by his palm and the harsh bite of her lip. Tears sting her eyes and stream down her cheeks, trickling onto his fingers at the intense pressure as her walls tighten. One more thrust, and they begin to flutter, her body convulsing as she falls over the cliff and milks his cock for all he’s got, pulling him over the edge with her.

A primal grunt rumbles in his chest and crawls out of his throat, his fingers leaving bruises on her hips behind as he spills hot ropes of his seed into the condom, his cock throbbing in rhythm with her twitching cunt. His hand falls from her mouth as she braces her palms on the wooden surface in front of her.

Deliriously, they both gasp for air, every breath jagged before the storm within them calms. Dean brushes her hair from her sweat-covered neck and lovingly kisses the salty skin on her shoulder blade, a blissful smile gracing his lips.

The sun blinds her eyes as Y/N stands on the green, perfectly cut lawn of the Dusty Spur. The boys have called an emergency meeting at the motel this time, gathering all the women in front of the reception outside.

It’s been three days since she has fucked the director in his office. He was careful not to leave any marks on her throat behind or anywhere else where it might catch unwanted attention, no one batting eyelashes at the new bruises on her hips that joined some of the old ones from training.

Dean told her he wanted a repeat of their encounter, whispering the dirtiest and most sinful promises into her ear. However, they haven’t seen much of each other since then. Both of them have been quite busy after the news of their new time slot and impending cancelation broke. And while it certainly dampened the lighthearted mood in the gym for a day, hope was not entirely lost, though, and still thrived in everyone but Y/N and Jo.

Yet, the two of them played along with the illusion the show still could be saved for the sake of the team. She didn’t know why Jo was entertaining the farce, but Y/N did it for her friends and, well, Dean, who’d been pondering and working nonstop to try and figure out what went wrong in his well-oiled machinery.

Y/N hates that he blames himself, not having the guts to tell him it’s in reality all her fault. Even with his sunglasses on his freckle-dusted nose, she can see the bags under his green eyes from the lack of sleep in recent days and feels more guilt pooling in the pits of her stomach. She doesn’t want him to be mad at her again, which is why she’s glad she can use Billie’s new, harsh training regiment as a good excuse to avoid him.

“They gave a men’s wrestling show our slot! And you wanna know why, hm?” Cas throws his rhetorical question into the group. Y/N has never seen the producer so angry and swallows more shame down. “Truth is, they’re better! They fly higher and hit harder!

“They hit harder because they’re bigger. It’s physics,” Y/N points out and tries to keep her annoyance at bay. It’s a men’s world they’re living in, and she’s getting sick and tired of the comparisons.

“Oh, fuck physics, Y/N!” Cas yells, causing her to flinch at his tone. “I need you to take everything you got and push it all the way to the limit, okay?”

“I don’t know what else we can do. We’ve been training for hours almost every day. Sun up till sun down,” Donna says and sighs.

Maybe it’s not too late, and Y/N should request a private meeting with Dick at the network, try and smooth things over before they get any worse. Maybe a blowjob in the office is enough to get them their old slot back and save the show. Dean wouldn’t ever have to know, right?

Besides, would he even care? Maybe he’d be grateful. After all, she doesn’t have much worth beyond fucking someone if you asked anyone here.

“I don’t need to hear excuses. I need to hear results,” Cas huffs and places his hands on his squared-off hips, shaking his head.

“You want bigger moves? Fine, you’ll get ‘em,” Billie assures him with a biting fighter spirit.

Cas’ lips curve into an enthusiastic smile. “That’s what I wanna hear! Look, I know this is gonna be hard, but I believe in miracles, and we’re going to make this miracle happen!”

Jo heaves a sigh. “Right, so we break our bodies and wrestle harder and magically get our time slot back?” she asks wryly, but her sarcasm is sadly lost on Cas.

“Yes!” the producer agrees joyously. “Look, I have it from Richard Roman himself that this is what they’ve been missing.”

At that, Jo’s blaming eyes wander to Y/N as the two former friends share a look. Shamefully, Y/N averts her gaze to the green grass underneath her feet, and Jo clenches her jaw tightly and starts to grind her teeth. Ever since their heated conversation in the gym, things have went downhill between them. Nowadays, there are just judgmental looks and passive-aggressive comments passed between them.

“So you met with Richard Roman?” Jo turns her unresolved anger towards the guys.

Cas groans loudly and rolls his blue eyes back. “Jo, I’m sorry, okay? It was a guy thing. We had to storm the gates,” he explains.

“Yeah, don’t get back up on your feminist high horse, alright? We didn’t leave you out, okay?” Dean jumps to Cas’ defense and unsuccessfully smooths things over. “We just think your focus should be on performing this week, you know? You and Y/N have a big match coming up. The, uh, continuing tale of the bereaved mother and the insane Russian, right?”

Jo nods and clenches her jaw once more, biting back her surely fiery comments.

“Okay, enough talking! Let’s do it!” Cas announces eagerly and claps his palms together as the women scatter back to their rooms to get ready for today’s training.

“What time do you wanna rehearse today?” Y/N bitterly asks her blonde opponent, already expecting a bitchy answer.

“Oh, any time, really. I mean, we could rehearse all day and night. It won’t make a difference,” Jo replies in an annoyed tone as anticipated. “You of all people should know that.”

Y/N watches Jo leave, trying her hardest not to strangle her former friend. She gets it. She fucked up, but she still doesn’t agree with Jo. Would sleeping with Roman and sacrificing her dignity really have saved the show?

“Hey, everything alright?” Dean’s deep voice startles her. She was so preoccupied with killing Jo in her mind, she hasn’t even noticed the director sneak up on her. “I know Cas was a little intense today. Never seen the guy this riled up before. It’s like a puppy getting rabies.”

Y/N forces a chuckle from her throat and brushes him off. “Oh, uhm, yeah, wasn’t so bad. I get it.”

Dean’s brow creases, sensing something is off with her. Shit. She does not want the director to find out about what happened.

“You’re not mad at me, right? I know I’ve been a bit MIA the last few days. It’s just been crazy with everything going on,” he explains sincerely and shoots her a soft smile. “I meant to call you or at least talk to you. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, no, like I said, I get it, Dean. Don’t worry about me, okay?” she assures him and compels another smile to her face before her curiosity takes over. “Did Roman really say our moves weren’t good enough?”

Her hope comes flooding back. Maybe it truly wasn’t her fault. Maybe the guy hits on so many actresses on a weekly basis that he doesn’t even care if one rejects him. Maybe it’s just all in her goddamn head, and it was just bad luck all around.

Dean shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. “Well, he didn’t say it exactly like that, but you girls are amazing. He’s gonna change his mind, and you’ll be back in your old slot in no time,” he promises her hopefully.

“Yeah, I guess so…” Fuck. It’s definitely about her.

“You sure you’re okay?” Dean checks again, noticing her absentminded behavior. Y/N’s usually chipper, eager, talkative, and hard to keep contained. She’s a warrior. The woman in front of him right now is the complete opposite, however. He almost doesn’t recognize her, and it worries him a little.

Is it him? Did he break her?

“Uh-huh, yeah, just tired, you know? Billie’s been riding us pretty hard this week,” Y/N excuses her strange mood with a half-truth, and Dean seems to buy it.

“Yeah, I bet.” He nods understandingly, chuckling. “Well, uhm, I’ve got some free time tonight. You wanna come over for dinner and I don’t know maybe… stay? You could ride me pretty hard, too,” he suggests, making her snort. “Admittedly, that sounded better in my head. Sorry.”

“No, uhm, I’d love to,” she replies honestly, giggling at his bashfulness. “But I’m pretty beat. Probably gonna fall into bed around seven like a dead person. Raincheck?”

Truthfully, there’s nothing she’d rather do than spend her nights (and days) with Dean, but the guilt in her belly is eating her alive. She can barely look him in the eyes. As of right now, though, she can see even more disappointment shimmering in his green orbs.

“Sure, yeah. Open invitation, sweetheart,” he says and acts as if her rejection doesn’t bother him. “But still, if all you wanna do is sleep, then you’re welcome to do that at my place as well. I do have the better mattress than the motel. Maybe a good night’s rest and a hot bath is all you need to recover, you know?”

Hot bath. The words make her skin crawl and take her right back to that horrible night where it all went wrong. How could she have been so stupid?

Y/N swallows the lump in her throat and fights for words. “Oh, uhm… I don’t, uh…”

“Hey, it’s okay, alright? No explanation needed, sweetheart,” Dean says and lets her off the hook. “Just wanted to offer, you know?”

“Thanks, another time.” Y/N forces one last smile to her lips.

Dean hasn’t seen Y/N in a whole week. Well, that’s not entirely true. He sees her every day at training in the gym, rolling around with Jo in the ring. But he hasn’t seen her privately since their little naughty stint in his office.

By now, he’s sure she’s avoiding him for some reason, but he doesn’t have the guts nor the balls to ask her straight. He’s too afraid of her answer, scared she has changed her mind about them and their arrangement. He’d accept it, of course, but he still doesn’t want to find out if that’s the reason why she keeps her distance. It would most certainly break his heart.

A knock on his office door makes his head snap up with hope that it’s Y/N. Either she’s here for another booty call or to end it. He’s prepared for both. To his surprise, though, it’s Donna who’s stopping by for a visit.

“Dean? Can we talk?” the curvy blonde asks insecurely, concern etched into every crease of her face.

“Sure, uh, what’s up?” Dean knows Donna and Billie have given their all to train the girls over the last few weeks, and if production could afford it, he’d give them both a gigantic raise. Unfortunately, he can’t but hopes it’s the thought that still counts.

“It’s about Y/N and Jo,” she informs him, and his ears perk up at that.

He’s noticed some tension between those two as well, so he’s not as surprised as he should have been. But honestly, sometimes it’s hard to tell what those two are fighting about. If it’s something new or just the same old beef.

“Usually, they do a good job of keeping their weird friendship stuff out of the ring, but not in the last week. There’s something wrong with them,” Donna tells him.

No shit, Dean thinks. Those two having issues is not an entirely new thing.

“What d’you want me to do about it?” Dean asks. He knows Donna didn’t just stroll into his office to chat and gossip. She’s looking for direction. Like the rest of these women downstairs, the blonde expects him to solve their problems. In the end, that’s his job.

“Postpone the match,” Donna prompts, the worry deepening. “I don’t think they should fight. They’re not communicating properly. Someone’s gonna get hurt.”

Dean tries not laugh, but in reality, it’s just fucking funny. Do these women ever think things through? Y/N and Jo’s match is the main storyline, the two of them being the best fighters as well. If they’re not entering the ring, he might as well just throw in the towel now and quit. The show would never make it back on air.

“Donna, I can’t do that,” he tells her frustratedly and runs a palm over his face. “C’mon, don’t be so dramatic. It’s not like they’re gonna kill each other.”

“Dean–” Donna is about to interject when he stops her.

“Fine, all right? I’ll talk to her,” the director assures the blonde.

Donna’s brow shoots up. “Her?”

“Them. I’ll talk to them,” Dean corrects quickly and watches her leave his office, clearly dissatisfied with his solution.

Dean hates West Hollywood like a mouse hates a cat. He can’t believe he fucking agreed to this thing in the first place. And the only reason he did agree was his stupid daughter, who’s not even here tonight because she’d rather spend time with her boyfriend than with her dad.

Fucking teenagers…

Honestly, Dean’s got no clue why he still came here without Claire. Maybe because he’s old-school and actually keeps his commitments, or maybe it’s because he’s got nothing better to do since neither his kid nor his not-girlfriend want to spend time with him. So, it was either getting drunk at home alone like he always does or do this.

As Dean enters the dark theater, he notices not a lot of seats are taken. Surprise, surprise! No one cares about him or his movies…

There’s a group of teenagers in the front row, though, who seem to be way to young to watch one of his films. But who is he to judge? He’s not their fucking parent. God knows he’s got his hands full with one teenager already.

He’s about to take a seat somewhere in the back when his green eyes spy a familiar head of hair. His heart skips a beat when he recognizes his favorite actress. Out of all the places in all the world, he’d never thought he’d meet her here.

“Hey,” he says as soon as he’s made it to her row. Her head darts up, but she doesn’t seem too surprised to see him here, which makes this coincidence even weirder. He assumed she strolled by this theater by accident and saw one of his movies was showing, deciding to check it out, which just so happens to flatter him and stroke his ego perfectly fine. “What are you doing here?”

Dammit. That sounded way too aggressive. He’s honestly happy she’s here; he just hasn’t expected it. Call it a ‘pleasant surprise.’

“Oh, uh, Claire invited me,” Y/N explains and gulps nervously. “But I can leave if you don’t want me here.”

Damn that kid. Of course, she meddled in his affair. Does she know he likes Y/N? Is it that obvious? Well, either way, someone’s getting a bigger allowance this week. Doesn’t he have the best kid?

“No, uh, stay. Please,” he says and sends Y/N his best smile. “Can I sit with you?”

Her face lights up. “Sure.”

Dean sits down on a red velvet seat next to her and feels like a goddamn teenager on a first date. His knees are shaking as he anxiously taps his boots on the sticky movie floor and drums his palms repeatedly on his thighs. Something inside of him urges him to hold her hand and interlace their fingers, or do one of those moves where he yawns and slings his arm around her shoulders.

In fact, he can barely concentrate on the movie until he takes her hand in his. But who cares? He wrote and directed this masterpiece, so it’s not like he’s missing out on anything important. He already knows the plot and every single shot.

Once their fingers touch, his heartbeat accelerates to light speed. She shoots him a look and raises her brow with a teasing smirk. He can catch it from his periphery but doesn’t dare to look straight at her. Instead, he awkwardly clears his throat and glues his green eyes stubbornly to the silver screen, pretending it’s not a big deal.

When did holding hands become such a fucking thrill? He’s not goddamn sixteen anymore, for crying out loud.

Y/N takes note of his uncomfortableness and focuses back on the movie but still gives his hand a small squeeze, telling him everything is all right. They remain exactly like this till the end credits roll across the screen.

And then, to his greatest surprise, there are cheers and claps from everyone in the theater. Y/N lets go of his hand to clap as well and bites her lip to hide a smile once she sees him blush furiously at the attention and admiration.

The group of teenagers then approaches him and stops by his row as a young, scrawny boy speaks up, “You’re a genius, Mr. Winchester.”

Mister?! How old do they think he is? Well, granted, he probably shot that movie before those kids were even born. Talk about feeling old.

“Your disorientation factor is truly masterful,” the boy continues. “Claire told us we’d love it.”

His brow shoots up in surprise. “Claire? How do you know my kid?”

“Oh, we’re all in AV club together,” the boy replies and gestures to his peers before they filter out of the theater.

“Huh.” Dean is gobsmacked, truly. For one, he didn’t even know Claire was in AV club. And secondly, he’s goddamn proud of her. Who knew the kid would take after her old man?

“See?” Y/N pokes his arm with her elbow, a big grin adorning her face. “You have a whole fan club of teenagers who adore your movie that they are, for sure, too young to see.”

Dean chuckles softly and wishes he could hide his reddening cheeks from her.

“I liked your movie, too,” she says then and watches his reaction closely.

“Oh, c’mon,” Dean tries to brush her off. She’s probably just saying it to appeal to his ego. He knows she’s not the biggest fan of his work. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Y/N says enthusiastically. “Those kids were right. It was disorienting. You were doing your own thing.” But then she catches her mistake and corrects herself, “Are. Sorry! You still are doing–”

Dean, however, shakes his head at her correction. “Nope, you’re right,” he admits and scoffs. “That was me twenty years ago. My hands all over everything like the biggest control freak, driving everybody nuts. I mean, my operator actually became so frustrated with me that he quit the first day and threw his camera at me. I had to shoot the rest of it myself.”

“You shot that?” Y/N’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Wow.”

“Yeah, I did.” Dean sighs and pensively scratches his beard. Something’s been bothering him for a while now, and talking to Y/N usually helps him sort through his jumbled thoughts. After all, she’s his Alma. “You know, I’m accustomed to a certain level of failure. When a project usually goes wrong, I know exactly what happened. It’s just-… with our show… I have no idea what went wrong there. I don’t know why they shit-canned us. Not a fucking clue. None. It’s driving me insane.”

Y/N grows quiet next to him and fumbles with her fingers. She swallows deeply before she opens her mouth. “I have an idea. I know why,” she confesses.

The director’s brow furrows. As he looks at her, he recognizes her nervousness. It causes him to worry. “What d’you mean?”

“Richard Roman, the head of the network? He-, uhm, he invited me to dinner… at his hotel room,” Y/N begins, the uncomfortableness growing inside of her and expanding in her chest.

Dean, on the other hand, stays perfectly still and quiet. The calm before the storm, so to speak. Because as soon as she said those words, he could feel his heart stop and drop several feet into the depths of hell. There, he’s sure he’ll find some kind of weapon he can use to kill that motherfucker before he comes back topside. The director knows how that story ends before she has even finished it, and it makes him want to puke his guts out and burn this godforsaken city down.

“He came on to me. As in… he wanted to have sex with me,” Y/N continues and clarifies in case he didn’t catch on. She’s not entirely sure the director is getting the message since he hasn’t said a word yet. “But I left before anything could happen. Ran away, actually. Bolted right outta there.” Her little chuckle at the end is a futile attempt to lighten the mood.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Dean’s furious, his nostrils flaring. He wants to punch and kill someone, but most of all Dickhead Roman himself.

“No, I’m not,” Y/N replies meekly. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Bewildered, he frowns. “Mad?” That’s when he notices that she suddenly seems scared. Is she frightened… of him?!

“Maybe I can still fix it. Just call him and ask him if I can come by his office,” Y/N suggests, her voice laced with desperation. But not the good kind that usually turns him on. This time it’s just plain sad.

“To do what exactly?” Dean prompts grimly, already knowing her intentions. Over his dead body is she doing that!

“Well–”

“Fuck no!” Dean doesn’t even allow her to finish her sentence. In fact, he doesn’t want to hear it at all, or he might have to scratch his ears out afterward. God, he doesn’t even want to think about it. “You’re not fucking doing anything, alright?”

“But–”

“That stupid fucking son of a bitch,” Dean huffs and shakes his head. “What a goddamn prick!”

“So you’re not mad?” Y/N checks insecurely.

For a moment, Dean stops his rage to look at her, his heart almost breaking as he does. She deserves so much better in this life than all the shit she’s getting. How the fuck is any of this fair?

“At Dick cocksucking Roman, yeah. But not at you. Never at you, okay?” he emphasizes and sees her nod in relief. His heart shatters anew. How could she even think for a second he’d hold some sleazebag’s actions against her? But then his suspicions grow as he puzzles the pieces together. “When the fuck did this happen?”

“Uh, a little over a week ago,” Y/N answers quietly. “The night before they moved us to the nighttime slot.”

“That’s when you came to my office, and we��” Dean doesn’t finish his train of thought and cards a hand through his messy hair. Now, it makes sense. Her strange behavior, the inexplicable need for punishment, and everything in between.

‘You’re the best guy I know,’ he remembers her words. ‘I can’t think of anyone I’d want this with more.’

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Was that why you were avoiding me?”

A part of him feels unbelievably relieved. It’s not him but literally someone else’s fault. For once, he’s done nothing wrong. For once, he hasn’t ruined everything. But another part of him, the bigger one, just wants to rip Dickbag Roman’s throat out with his goddamn teeth. What a pathetic fucking loser…

Dean wishes he could beat the guy black and blue and leave him bleeding on the highway till a truck runs over him. He wishes he could cut off that guy’s dick and put it through a meat grinder. His mind can’t stop imagining the most gruesome ways to make that asshat suffer and die. In fact, he wishes Manson was still roaming Spawn Ranch and would send his Family over to that Roman’s mansion and leave Sharon Tate the fuck alone.

“I’m sorry. I guess I was scared you’d react like Jo.” Y/N gulps and averts her eyes to her trembling hands in her lap.

His brow knits, Donna’s warning words echoing through his mind. “Jo knows? What did she say?” But before Y/N can answer him, the director stops her again. “No, wait… I can take a fucking guess,” he mutters bitterly. The blonde bimbo probably told her to blow the guy in his goddamn office. Typical…

“Well, she’s not entirely wrong, you know,” Y/N mumbles and bites down on her lip without looking at him.

“What d’you mean?”

“All I’m good for is a fuck,” she says with a wry smile and wipes away a small tear. Dean’s heart twinges and hurts for her, but that pain is nothing compared to the cool blade of a knife he feels soon instead. “I mean, you of all people know that…”

Dean’s quiet for a moment and bites his nails as he ponders. His mind is a maze, and he knows he has to pick and choose his words carefully in order to get out of it.

“No, I actually don’t know that,” he states and catches her attention.

He tries his best not to sound angry or offended, even though he is a little. Hasn’t he been building her confidence for weeks now? Hasn’t he been instilling in her that she’s his favorite – and not just among the cast but on this planet in general? He figured she knew how much she truly means to him, but maybe he hasn’t been clear enough yet. He knows Y/N’s self-worth issues could fill every damn swimming pool in California, so maybe he shouldn’t expect a miracle so soon.

Mostly, he’s angry at Dicksuck Roman and Barbie for ruining all his hard work with one asshole move and a few bitchy words.

Dean wets his lips and lets out a sharp exhale through his nose before he looks at her. “Y/N, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my entire life. You’re never just a quickie in the office to me. Do you understand that?”

She nods in slow reluctance. “I think so.”

“Good,” he says sternly. “Now believe it ‘cause it’s true.”

The green-eyed director cups her cheeks and pulls her to his lips, tongue meeting tongue in a searing kiss. The old seats creak when their weight shifts, Y/N leaning into his touch as she wrings for oxygen with heavy breaths. And where words fail, he tries his best to show her how he feels through his actions.

“Sorry,” Dean apologizes cheekily once he lets her get some air. “Couldn’t hold myself back any longer. That’s okay, right? We’re still on?”

Suddenly, it dawns on him that she might’ve still changed her mind about him. Has he just sexually harassed a woman right after she told him how she’s been sexually harassed by a superior? Jesus fucking Christ, he’s goddamn tone deaf, isn’t he?

To his luck, though, Y/N finds his stupidity amusing and giggles, placing another sweet kiss on his plump lips as she shakes her head. “We’re still on, boss,” she assures him and hears him heave a big sigh of relief.

“Awesome.” He grins from ear to ear and brushes a strand of rogue hair out of her face. “Are you and Jo okay? ‘Cause if you’re not, you gotta tell me. You wanna postpone the match?”

Now that Dean knows there’s no chance in hell the network’s going to let the show survive, he doesn’t even give a shit if the girls resort to doing the chicken dance in the ring or taking a dump on stage. No one truly gives a fuck anymore, least of all him. He never has.

The only thing he cares about is sitting right next to him.

Y/N, however, vehemently shakes her head. “No, we’re fine. I wanna fight. ‘Sides, I’m supposed to win this match, and I can’t wait to kick Jo’s bitchy ass.” She grins broadly.

“That’s my bad girl.” Dean smirks and pecks her lips. “You’re gonna stay over at my place tonight? Play a little Cold War in my bedroom?”

“Only if I can do my accent,” Y/N says, beaming.

The director playfully rolls his green eyes, even though he’s direly been waiting for that sort of role play. “Oh, you’ve got yourself a deal, Natasha.”

22. Girls, Girls, Girls – April 20

Hope you enjoyed this one! We came back with a literal bang 😂 Next up we deal with more drama and a hospital stay 👀

Don't forget I re-did the tag lists after the break, so pick your new place (everything, specific character, or series) and put your username in there ❤️

TAGS:

Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33

Old Series Tags (only for this part): @jessjad​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​ @smellingofpoetry​​ @justrealizedimmascifygurl​​​​ @leigh70​​ @4getfulimaginator2022​​ @yeahmynameiscool06​​ @luci-wiggles​​​ @darkened-writer​ @mimaria420​​ @samanddeansannoyingsis​​ @sarasolros​​

#plastic hearts #dean winchester #director!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x female reader #actress!reader #dean winchester au #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #director!dean winchester x actress!reader #glow au #supernatural au #supernatural fanfic #supernatural

[sminiac]

౨ৎ ⋆˚｡ — Cybershot !

⋆ Sub!Kim Minjae + Fem!Dom!Reader

Warnings — 18+, Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Pictures taken during sex, slight humiliation, Unprotected Sex, Established Relationship, Needy pathetic Minjae.

“I love you babe, but there’s no way in hell I’d let you see me like that.”

It wasn’t that Minjae was scared of submitting to you, he knows you’re very much capable of taking care of him… but at what cost? What you were asking of him was drastically different from simply spooning soup into his mouth and making sure to register medicine to him every few hours, and he’s fine with admitting that his ego is much too large to allow him to endure such a humiliating act with a clear conscience, especially to the degree you’d spoken so whimsically about.

Your voice was hesitant and light as you relayed your recent fantasy that was much too tempting to keep to yourself, only for your loving boyfriend to immediately shoot down your idea with a stupid empathic smile on his face laced to the reply you couldn’t help but take personally.

You quickly assumed that the additional stomach churning expression was parallel to the disrelish he felt regarding the role, but he didn’t even completely know himself why his first instinct was to say no, there was no plausible excuse, you just made him nervous and he short-circuited, and the long pause of silence scared him away from the apology he was going to make. On the other hand it made you feel stupid for a period of time, to ask something so foolish, you should’ve known he wouldn’t want to, Minjae’s the caretaker you had to remind yourself, not the one being taken care of.

Even though you failed the first time around in getting what you wanted you aren’t going to force him into a space that he’d never naturally shoulder, overstepping boundaries left a sour taste in your mouth as it should anyone’s, In fact you’re completely fine with him denying you, it’s just the way he did it that upset you. Minjae could’ve been way more gracious of your feelings and their fragility, yes, that’s one thing you were now sure of after some deep contemplation and going through a multitude of reruns over the interaction, it’s also why you’re giving him the not-so-subtle cold shoulder, and not because he doesn’t want to be whimpering and crying beneath you.

So, in hopes of getting back at him you created a plan. Sure you could’ve very well chosen to be civil adults about it, but where’s the fun in that? You wanted to see him begging after all- a complete and utter sobbing mess, crawling and pleading on his hands and knees if he has to just to feel the snug suction of your cunt around him again, this was just going to be a helpful nudge into that direction, an authentic, voluntary direction.

Minjae likes having a routine, he could deal flawlessly with uncertainties of course but sticking to a schedule and knowing what to expect kept him feeling confident and assured of his abilities. Even though he’s already very familiar with your established habits, your loved and your necessaries, your sex life was never made to be mundane or too vanilla due to familiarity of one another’s functions, it’s usual for him to come home after a long day with his weekend mindset starting to creep up on him, seeking intimacy with you to make up for the lack of it during his busier days.

He smiles lazily upon seeing you already laid out comfortably with your back facing him, unknowing of his presence from your side of his bed. It throws him off a little seeing your bare legs and only a thin silk robe covering the rest of you up, but fuck is it ever a guilty pleasure of his seeing you like this, even so, he can’t help but wonder if anyone else just so happened to catch a peek at you considering his door was wide open when he arrived, he doesn’t want to think so lowly of his members, or really think about them at all- not when he’s come back to you like this, pent up and eager to strip you of that damn robe, he knows you probably don’t have much- or even anything under it, he only hurries more when slipping off any of his accessories that will only get in the way.

“Hi princess,” he mutters, effortlessly slipping into the tone of voice that always has your thighs pressing into each other. Minjae mirrors your position, pushing himself close to your behind, an arm keeping him propped so he has a view of the side of your face, his free hand dragging ticklish and slow from your knee up. “you waiting for me?” He asks, thinking he already knows the answer- that you’ll spread your legs for him and move to lay on your back so his fingers can easily move to your pussy the way they always do.

But he only manages to get so close before he can’t move any further.

Any other day you’d take whatever he has to offer you whenever, his good girl, but today his advance is cut short immediately when he notices you don’t react to his touch in the slightest.

He frowns with concern, his hand retreating to rest on your stomach for good measure, he doesn’t want you to think you owe him anything, even if the two of you haven’t skipped sex any chance you had at it for anything. He urges you to turn towards him at the very least, a vulnerable warmth replacing the amorous infection on his tongue. “What is it honey?” He asks, busying himself by brushing your hair back with featherlight touches, he knows how long it takes for you to let up whenever somethings weighing heavily on your mind, so he’s willing to wait.

You play along to the tone he’s set in place, acting like the mood he senses is authentic and not in fact fabricated for your own benefit.

“Don’t want to Minjae, today was long enough.”

Oh. Okay. “Minjae”, “enough”

No he gets it, you’re just stressed, or.. sad? That’s why you aren’t calling him something from your long list of pet names, that’s okay! But still, ‘long enough’…? Were those two words completely necessary in order to get your point across?

Minjae nods silently at your side, his attention slowly diverting, inwardly he does his best to hold himself back from taking the lack of reciprocation directly to heart, but you’ve never brushed him off like this before, especially so frigidly.

He chooses to digress from what he was already so head deep into, trying to shift in a way that wouldn’t expose his hard on, there’s this wash of shame he feels knowing how turned on he is, or has been since the second he unlocked the front door, his mind already racing picturing you in here waiting for him so pretty and patient, already having a good idea of how things would’ve played out.

His teeth catch at his bottom lip, mentally trying to conjure up an excuse that’ll get him out of here clean and swift without exposing his true intentions.

You’re all to smart for this, you know him too well to actually think that he’s just going to take a ‘quick shower’ because of how gross he feels from being out in public, Minjae’s the type to get you in his clutches whenever he has the opportunity, he doesn’t care about cleanliness or convenience, all he cares about is his dick not being hard for any longer than it has to be.

You look over your shoulder as he picks out more comfortable lounge clothes, trying to abate a small smile from appearing as you try to convince him, “Stay with me, Min’, please, don’t wanna’ be alone.” with the best sad pout that screams pity me you can muster.

It cracks at him, but only so much that he agrees “Just for a little” and then he really has to go shower, during his forced stillness you rant to him about your oh-so horrible day using fake names and nonexistent events that are secretly just a reiteration of exactly what he did and how he treated you. Being the good boyfriend he is, Minjae croons about his agreement with your side of the story, validates you, kisses your head gently, tells you he would’ve done what you asked without batting an eye, reassures you that you aren’t overreacting or too sensitive all while unknowingly proving himself to be wrong in the real situation.

He struggles getting through his sentences with the bump of your ass directly against his crotch but he perseveres, he isn’t flawless or slick about it, but he does his best to ignore the throb that’s prompted by your every move.

Subconsciously he rubs at your body as you speak, getting a little too lost in his head that at some points during your tangent he completely zones out and doesn’t hear a thing, all he’s focused on is feeling your soft skin filling out his hand, slowly he inches back the lining of your robe with the tips of his fingers, it sits loosely wrapped across your chest now caused by your movement, but he only gets so far before you reach out to hold his hand.

There’s a swell of pride in your chest when he abruptly gets up from his place on the bed, saying that he really needs to wash out the gel in his hair because it’s starting to give him a headache and he can’t focus with an irritating aching sensation going on. You laugh to yourself when he fully exits the room knowing there was an aching sensation alright, but it wasn’t in the head on his shoulders, that’s for sure.

Day 2

You’re holding out quite well. Nothing dramatic has been attempted, but Minjae did wake up to a cold bed and no good morning peck on the lips like he usually would, and dare he forget to mention morning wood. It isn’t the most uncommon occurrence, for Minjae- or guys in general, the only difference here was the fact that he always had someone to take care of him before he even had the chance to realize he was hard, today though he was only met with more misfortune.

He tried to sleep it off, but that only resulted in him restlessly tossing and turning with such an uncomfortable feeling for what felt like hours.

Jerking off with you watching or even knowing made his lips purse until they were sore from his teeth digging into the soft internal tissue, a few rough shakes of his head to rid of the painted image. He’s never wished to be able to get off without your help, and the fact that he can’t would have never struck him as something that would be objectively deemed as a shortcoming, at least not in Minjae-world, but in a sleazy douchebag asshole-of-a-boyfriend’s world? Yeah, probably. Albeit out of all times only right now does he think that it sure would be nice to have the ability to make himself cum with the effort of his own hand.

The pictures he has pulled up of you from his private folder only bring him so close, the small spark of his orgasm only burns so hot before inevitably fizzling out again, leaving him stagnant, frustrated.

Day 3

He’s really starting to lose it now. During work hours he’d usually receive a handful of texts from you regarding your plans, if you’ve eaten, if you’ll be gone when he gets back, but today it was silent. The only thing keeping him going was the small flicker of hope he had when leaving the dorm that today was the day things would return back to normal, and how this pitiful idea struck him? You have no idea, you gave him absolutely nothing to feed into this delusional narrative, he just seems to have an exceptionally optimistic outlook today.

He half-expected you to be home when he got back, but all he returned to was silence and a few random articles of your clothing strewn across your shared bed. He sent you a quick message asking where you are, all he received back was a shallow explanation of “Clubbing.” Which is fine, I mean it’s not like he was counting on getting his dick wet tonight or anything. Besides, wasn’t it one of your girlfriend’s birthday recently? Perhaps it was a last minute plan you suddenly decided to take part in. Again, he didn’t want to think too much of it, until the obscure pictures and unsteady videos of you posted to your instagram story whilst being posted up with another guy came into view, from what he could see the guy doesn’t look familiar in the slightest, and how close he is to you makes his face warmer and warmer whenever he clicks back to re-watch it again.

The night ended in more silence than the last, this time he didn’t even try to understand why you’re acting the way you are. He doesn’t know what kind of coping mechanism dancing so closely with another guy that isn’t your boyfriend is, but he chooses to not bring it up, instead he gets you cold water, wipes off your makeup for you and forces you to wash your face before crashing out.

No matter how much you ignored him, or upset him, he still didn’t forget to say “I love you.” Before falling asleep alone on his side of the bed, curling into himself to try and imitate the warmth and security your body provided him with.

Day 4

The calm before the storm. He remained just at a distance from you for the whole day, within arms reach but still far enough that it didn’t allow him to initiate any sort of conversation more than a “I love you” or “Have a good day baby” and truthfully, it was starting to catch up to you too.

The thought of his sad face made your chest ache, the image of him crying, the way all the muscles in his face are as equally affected by the emotion as his heart is. God, this is awful, what’s even worse is the burning streak of arousal lighting up your lower stomach.

It’s sickening, or at least it should be, the thought of your lover crying, overtaken by his overbearing tears and his struggled breaths after every audible sob, how fragile and small he’s felt in your arms when seeking for a comfort only you could offer.

The reminiscing of your boy suddenly reminds you of the picture taken on the small digital camera you carry around in your bag that stores a plethora of pictures starring Minjae, there’s a specific image kept there of him mid-cry sesh, a thing the two of you seem to have a lot together. In the captured memory your hand gently cups the side of his face, his lips pouty and flushed a deeper shade of pink than usual with thick clumps of tears actively pouring down his face, making his glassy eyes red and incredibly sad looking.

At the time it was only taken as a joke, something the two of you could look back on when you’re years ahead of now and remember ‘oh yeah, we used to do that’ but now, it served for a completely new purpose.

His expression was obviously exaggerated for laughs at the time, but fuck did he still look so pretty like that. You don’t dare to touch yourself, something about it felt off. Is that contradictory? Completely, but you’re going to have him crying in front of you in real time, why ruin it now when you’re so close succeeding.

Day 5

The last day. You knew you were finished with your scheme before your succession even came to light, Minjae was never good about being subtle.

He didn’t waste time when heading straight into your arms as soon as he swung open the door, his head hung low as he forces them apart with his hands, wide enough for him to slip into. “Hold me,” he whispers, scared of speaking too loudly or he knows the tears will snap and he won’t be able to stop them. “just hold me please..”

Once he’s got you crushed into his embrace your arms stay still for a second, and then they drop limply to your sides, and then the warmth he feels behind his eyes slowly comes slipping out.

He hugs himself tighter to you, facing away from you at first his head rests on your shoulder, just needing to get a real feel of you again.

It’s inevitable, you can almost count down the seconds until his voice unwillingly leaves him in choked sobs. Minjae quickly turns back towards you to try and catch at his voice, muffling himself down in your shirt, he doesn’t even have the mind to be embarrassed by how loud he is, he’s just so, so sad. It doesn’t take long before you can feel the wet patches soak through to your skin, that’s when he finally feels like he exists to you again because your hand moves to rest on his back, feeling the way he pulses and shakes with his cries, slowly easing into small circles that only makes the emotions he’s succumbed to more intense.

There’s only two things on your mind.

1: You need to see his face. Need to wipe away his never ending stream of tears and remind him of how pretty he is, so pathetic and docile under your care. 2: The camera is placed conveniently, it’s just where you need it to be for easy access.

“My sweet boy,” you coo, your other hand joining at the back of his body, slipping into the nape of his hair. “I’m sorry. Was being mean to you, too mean.”

You try to coax him back, but his body’s heavy against yours, it feels as if almost all of his weight is sinking onto you.

“C’mere, let’s lay down hm?” You offer, and it gets him moving.

Minjae slowly pulls back from you, his arms loosening and instead moving to his eyes in a gentle attempt to clear away his blurry vision. It’s cute the way he moves, unsteady on his feet, hiccuping through his swollen lips as he rubs, they always did look pretty when he was finished crying, you never managed to clock exactly why you thought that before now.

He manages to calm himself down within seconds, it’s close to being instant, but no matter, he’s already so worked up you don’t doubt the crying will resume anytime soon.

You guide him into his room, a subtle warm embrace keeps the vicinity of the space lit up just enough for it to not be too harsh on his eyes that you already know are feeling sensitive, his hands leave his face, blinking away the uncomfortable feeling.

You’re light on your feet when helping him into bed, a tender jump of his chest strikes with every few uneasy breaths as you lay him back, your arm hooking just under his neck to keep you close to his side, the closest he’s had you in the last few days.

“You’re okay, no more now honey.” You soothe.

He’s on his back, idly studying your face before the small twitch of his lips catches your eye. He’s crying, once again, and you’ve barely done a thing. The tears are warm, the last round of them sticky on his skin, creating a friction against his as you rub the fresh ones away. It stings, but his eyes still remain open and focused on only you without any complaints of the sensitive skin.

“Please,” he mutters airily, even through saliva coating thickly in his mouth he sounds so pretty. “want a kiss. I jus’ want you to kiss me.” He fists at the front of your shirt, desperately trying to be delicate about pulling you closer to him while also using enough force to move you.

You smile before dipping down to reach his lips, it’s one he can’t read, not when he locks onto yours as soon as the contact is made, they’re a little dry but soft, warm, he’s like hot coffee in a cold morning, comforting, a sense of equanimity. You let him melt into the kiss, the same feeling he was starting to forget the vividness of spirals, invades his insides whole, he tries to put a stop to his crying, he really does, but the pensive intrusion of sadness finds its itself all the way down to his throat, and it’s much too strong, much too stubborn to swallow back.

The more your lips move, the more wet his become from the mix of saliva finding its way out.

The faster the pace becomes, the harder he kisses you.

His hand weakens, it relaxes and moves to rest on your shoulder, waiting until he can feel the soft lick of your tongue trying to make its way past his lips before his hand starts dragging down to your wrist. He takes his time, focusing more on the way you alternate between sucking his bottom lip, biting it, kissing him again and then taking his tongue into your mouth.

The way you suck on the pink muscle never fails to make his cock twitch, it’s ridiculously lewd, intimate, in some cases people surely view it as downright disgusting, but he’s different, completely, it imitates the way you take his cock into your mouth, you have the same look on your face, one he can’t allow himself to miss.

A soft groan evades his mouth whilst he peeks out through his damp lashes, feeling the way you suck at it, play with it using your own tongue is so distinct even when his eyes are fully closed, it’s a different feeling compared to when his fingers are taken between your lips, they aren’t as sensitive he finds, he’s far more stimulated when you do this.

Reaching your wrist his fingers grip securely around it, pulling you towards his crotch, he teases himself by purposefully dragging the tips of them lightly along his thigh, your nails scratching at him through the denim makes him shiver at the ticklish feeling.

It’s not hard for you to find his erection, the subconscious drive of his hips towards you always made it easy anyways.

Minjae sucks at holding out, it’s kind of the reason why the whole ‘submitting to you’ idea initially came about.

As soon as you’re palming at him his hand retreats, “Can, ca— fuck,” he huffs, annoyed with himself, the fact that he’s already hard takes away from any coherent train of thought. “ride it, please, wan’ you to ride me.” His hips grind up into the air, giving life to the desperation you’re starting to see split from his grasp.

You move as he asks, throwing your leg to the opposite side of him and settling into his lap, he tries to shuffle himself forward so you’re seated directly where he needs you, but he stiffens up, watching with confusion as you bend off to the side of him, grabbing at something he’s told to not “worry about”.

Your chest is in full view, he can already make out the outline of your nipples poking through the t-shirt. His hands move without any hesitation as they slip under the shirt, feeling at every inch of you until he’s got his hands pushing up the fabric, revealing your chest to him fully. You take your time retrieving the digital camera, letting him enjoy himself as he gently pokes small wet kisses across the soft flesh, his tongue is hesitant when it pokes out, the pointed tip of it strained, stiff as he experimentally licks at you.

He does it so gently you can barely feel him, only the cool air rushing against you from the spots of saliva he leaves behind.

Your posture straightens out as you quickly bring it behind your back so he doesn’t have the chance to catch a glimpse of the small silver object, the way you go about tending to his requests is different he notes, he’s different. Your fingers skim through his hair, Minjae considers that maybe you’ve had his return to you already well thought out, and fortunately the idea is merely heeded but it’s not dissected, all his scattered brain knows is that It’s not everyday you lounge around the dorm with only a shirt of his on that struggles to cover your ass even when your shoulders are relaxed and a pair of panties that contrast in colour to really draw eyes if anyone but him were to see.

The longer you allow him to keep licking and sucking at your breasts, the more bold his actions become.

“Feels good.” you sigh, hips widening out, allowing you to run your pussy against his covered cock as his tongue slackens against you, running wet and ticklish around your nipple before he takes it in between his lips. As his mouth encloses around the sensitive bud he sucks the air back into his mouth, creating a suction that’ll make it easier for his tongue to flick against your nipple without having to distance his skin from yours.

An empty hand of yours pushes back his white hair away from his eyes to see the small spots of tears highlighting his skin, they don’t fall as fast or irritate his eyes all that much, but there’s enough for you to want to snap a picture.

Your hand readjusts to hold more of his hair back, asking: “It’s okay if I take a picture Min’? You look so good, all pretty and pouty for me.” As you bring the camera around, already turned on and ready to be used, all you had to do was get the angle.

Minjae thinks about it for a second, his tongue slowing out to leisure circles and sucks, the two of you have taken pictures like this before, there was no difference to this.

He nods, a small “Mmhm.” As he adjusts your shirt so it doesn’t cover up his face. Elated, you hold the camera high enough that only your chest and Minjae’s head can be seen, like a photoshoot almost he gets into the zone. His eyes flutter shut as he continues moving his mouth against your breast, even tipping it to the side so you can see the side skin of his cheek pulled tight, the small beep goes off along with a bright flash that makes him frown.

He doesn’t care to look, he isn’t worried if he looks good or if the angles flattering, all he cares about is his two fingers slipping under the band of your panties.

As you study the picture closely you can make out the faint wetness across his cheeks, and the red skin around both his eyes, his nose, your arousal only thickens in abundance having him the way you’ve been fantasizing about. Your body’s reaction to his hand drawing so close to your pussy is something you don’t have a say over, it happens faster than you can think of- lifting yourself for enough space that allows him to slip between your folds, his middle finger finds your clit flawlessly, it’s like second nature at this point.

Minjae can never resist from taking a moment to appreciate how warm you are for him, how buttery your slick feels coating you from inside out. “Fuck,” you gasp, your hand flying to his shoulder as the tip of his middle finger easily sinks inside of you. “can’t wait baby, need you all the way.”

Unlike most days he has you like this— impatient and yearning for the attention of his hands— he’d choose to take his time working you open, but the way you touch him right now, rewarding him with kind words and the affection he’s been deprived of selfishly he needs more, as much of it as you have to offer. His ring finger matches the stroke of his middle and pump right back into you with a more filling sensation, Minjae’s fingers aren’t the longest, but he still manages to nudge at a spot inside of you that has you lurching over him.

His pacing is timely, but the more hasty your breaths come the faster he’s fucking his fingers into.

He’s seen the way people have described the feeling of being inside of a woman, but it was always with their dicks. This, this is much different. When he has his fingers pumping into you he has the capacity to fully perceive the way you feel because he’s not on the receiving side of things. It’s soft, you’re soft, it’s a feeling he’s never felt before, one that’s impossible to replicate, but if he were asked then maybe he’d give the answer of the inside of your mouth, but even that wouldn’t fully amount to the truth. You’re soft in an addicting all to indulgent sense, you feel as something he should never have the right to touch, but you allow him to anyway.

Your hips start meeting in time with the short snap of his wrist, your slick sliding down his fingers, collecting between the webbing. “Pace— keep it, just like that!” You muster, lips tender with an inflection to your voice that’s clear with every bounce of your body.

His forearm starts to burn past a point of easy endurance, but he doesn’t stop, his motions don’t slow, pace unceasing until you’re bringing a finger to your clit, only losing yourself to a point where your body shudders violently, your mouth pulled open and then you pull yourself off of his hand.

“Can’t.. need your cock Minjae, hate you, but need it.”

You don’t have to repeat yourself, even if you had to he wouldn’t have given you enough time to fully get it out before he’s releasing his cock from it’s suffering restraint and the sultry sound of your voice. “hate you, but need it” God. Hate you, hate you, hate you. “Don’t just, please I need you to— f-fuck…” You’re wet, entirely, completely wet, even more than before, but it’s not from the work of your own body.

He’s not even inside of you, how upsetting that his load is already covering your skin.

You don’t waste a second bringing yourself over his dick, again and again, covering him in his own cum before your fingers gently nudge at the sensitive tip to where he can fit inside. It twitches, the sound of his pitchy whimpers don’t quite fully make it to your ears until you’ve sunken all the way down onto him.

His orgasm still hasn’t fully subsided while he’s dumbly trying to hold at your hips so he doesn’t continue looking like a helpless ragdoll below you, but the swallow of your pussy, the sounds of it, the feeling of his cum sticky against the top of his thighs has him absolutely helpless.

“Please, plea… huh— oh my god, ohmygod!”

He sucks in air through his teeth, head tipped back trying to maintain what little stability he has.

He feels good, it’s a pleasant sort of sting that slithers along his nerves, both the pain and the pleasure balance each other out— he’s losing it to the point of any intense embarrassing flurries in his chest being melted with the warm slap of your skin against his, or maybe it’s just you yourself that has him considering if he were to ever be fucked like this again, mean and demanding, that he’d do nothing but enjoy it to the fullest extent.

You clench at tightly at the camera hearing the struggled garbles coming from his mouth, he doesn’t even have the mind to keep a control of the noises he makes he’s so fucked out. Only half words of “Pl—phh, plea…” are slobbered out, a triumphant smile on your face appears seeing a fresh set of warm tears slipping fast down his cheeks due to how thick they are.

You level your shot, only slowing down by the smallest amount to snap a picture of the embarrassing state you’ve knocked him into.

“You gonna cum Min’?” Another picture.

“For what? The second time already? And you haven’t even made me finish yet.” And another

“Always only thinking about yourself.” And again, another.

His heads heavy, he barely has the energy to shake it, to disagree with you, but he knows that you’re right, and maybe, he likes that you are.

You toss the camera to the side, adjusting yourself with a new overwhelming sense of confidence added to everything you do, every move you make, pushing his shoulders back with a force that sends him back against the mattress you return back to the brutal pace, finally having the mindset to now focus on making yourself feel good rather than proving your point. You can tell it was proven, as soon as the flash first went off you knew you had won, and there was no way Minjae could ever deny it no matter how badly he previously wanted to.

“Hurts, baby, hurts really good!” He pants, hips driving repeatedly up into yours with an unbroken focus on meeting not only his end again that’s starting to creep up, but yours. His cocks red and covered in you, he catches quick glimpses of it with every desperate thrust and it only helps melt down his second orgasm of the night. “Wanna… wanna cum, please- tell me I can cum.”

He expects you to deny him, to call him a slur and make fun of him, but you only nod, coaxing him into it: “Inside Min’.”

Whimpering an “Mhm, mhm!” He shuts his eyes, warm liquid running down the sides of his face, hoping to feel the familiar sign of your own orgasm close behind his, but as he settles back down from the high, earthly untether of his body he realizes you’re still upright, you’re unmoving, but not slumped over top of him like you usually are.

“You— you, didn’t? I didn’t make you?”

“You’re funny thinking I’d let this be over so quickly, I still have some storage left here, shouldn’t I put it to use?”

ᰔ sminiac’s xikers M.list

#this was really experimental #I really can’t tell if I like it lmao #I hope nothings too confusing #kim minjae smut #kim minjae x reader #kim minjae imagines #minjae x reader #xikers kim minjae x reader #xikers kim minjae smut #xikers minjae smut #xikers smut #xikers x reader #xikers imagines #xikers hard hours

[faghubby]

Cum cuddle

"Look how big he is" Keri said showing me a pic of her holding his cock in her hand. I was naked cuddling next to her on the couch as she used her index and thumb to jerk me off.

"I could only take half down my throat. But he went slow when he fucked me. He laid me on my back and had my legs on his shoulders. I thought he was going to rip me in half. But when I got used to it I was begging for it all" she continued. I slid my hand over her satin blouse my finger tracing her bra thru the thin material.

"What are you doing?" She laughed. I looked into her eyes wanting her so bad. "Okay she" giggled. Unbuttoned her shirt. "Only the bra?" She warned me. As soon as she opened blouse though I came all over myself.

"Quick don't leak on the couch" Keri said pushing me to stand up. I grabbed my shirt and wiped the cum off my stomach. As I rushed off to the bathroom. As Keri laughed to herself. I felt ashamed I always did after I came. Keri had been cuckolding me for almost a year now. It had been 8 months since she even let me touch her in a sexual way. Instead she would find satistifaction in the arms of "real men". This had all started during a long weekend away. I had booked us in a romantic bed and breakfast on a lake. One morning we where headed to the lake to go swimming when we saw a man getting out of the water completely naked. Obviously had been skinny dipping. We hid behind a tree. Waiting for him to get dressed. But I noticed Keri kept peeking at him. Later back at our room I teased her about it.

"You kept checking him out" I laughed.

"So, he was big even with the water cold'' Keri shot back at me annoyed. I was trying to be playful I didn't want her to be upset.

"Baby, I didn't mean" I started but she was already in a mood. Fuck I thought had I messed up the whole weekend. She gave me the cold shoulder the rest of the day.

In the morning I woke up and Keri was gone. She must of woken up early and headed down to breakfast. I quickly got up an headed downstairs bit no Keri. There was no cell reception up here so I just sat and waited eating alone. Just as I was finishing Keri walked in with a tall man laughing.

"Here he is" she smiled. "Alex this is my husband Paul" she said introducing us. As they both grabbed a seat at the table. Both of there hair where wet.

"I got up early and went for a swim" Keri started "and ran into Alex here. He takes a dip every morning" she smiled. Was this the guy we had caught skinny dipping? I thought to myself. Alex was a nice guy who was up here to just recharge his batteries from the daily city pace. Soon we where all laughing and enjoying each other's company. Then me and Keri headed back to our room to change. We were planning on a hike around the lake. As soon as the door closed though Keri was all over me. She pushed me back on the bed. Then with confidence I had not experienced in bed she lowered herself sitting on my face. She ground into me as I licked and sucked her already wet pussy. She shuddered and came on my tounge then rolled off and laid beside me.

"I needed that" she sighed

"That wasn't about me though" I said rolling on top of her. Her eyes widened. She went to argue.

"Shh, it was Alex" I said softly. My throbbing dick teased her lips.

"No, i" Keri started.

"It's okay" I told her. As my dick slid inside her.

"Wait, you're not mad" she said pushing against my chest stopping me.

"Did you do anything?" I asked still rock hard trying to push into her.

"I don't think you would care if I did" she told me. I just smiled and she let go. I thrust into her. She let me fuck her she didn't even make a noise. I came quicker then usual.

"You got excited thinking about if I did do something?" Keri said "didn't you?"

"yes" I said barely above a whisper.

"I joined him, swimming today. And no I didn't wear a suit" she told me. My eyes wide. "Nothing happened we just enjoyed being free in nature" she told me. We showered and got dressed. We set out on our hike. About half way. Keri bought it up.

"How would you feel if I had done more then just swim?" She asked.

"I don't know" I told her

"Are you sure, what if I go swimming with him again tomorrow?" she asked. I looked down at the ground. She wanted my attention so she gently pushed me back against a tree. Pressing against me.

"What if I did more then swim?" She teased I knew she could feel me get hard in my shorts. "He is very big, might stretch me all out for you" she teased. I kissed her. "You want me to cheat on you don't you?" She asked. I just nodded.

"No tell me in words" she told me her hand reached into my shorts. Her hand cupped my balls thru my briefs.

"Yesm I love for you to let him have you" I moaned as I came in my pants. Keri rubbed my balls milking out all of my sperm. There was a big wet spot on the front of my shorts. The rest of the way back. Keri kept talking about having sex with other people.

"I would do it for you, bit I could never be okay with you having another woman." She told me. I confessed my cuckolding fetish. Having to explain cuckolding what was to my lovely bride as well. And how I loved how he had a much bigger cock.

By the time we had made it back to the cottage Keri had laid out a plan. I was to wait in our room tomorrow until she returned from her swimming date. We enjoyed the rest of the day together. That night Keri asked more about cuckolding and my fetishes. With no good internet connection she relied on me for information. She smiled alittle when I told her how much I had enjoyed her making me cum in my pants.

Keri had me orally please her again that night but denied me acress to her. Even telling me not to masterbate. Keri even saying Masterbate made my dick jerk. I lifted off to sleep. Again I woke alone. It was hours later that Keri came back to the room. She came straight to the bed and pulled off my briefs. I was naked as she kissed me. And played with my throbbing dick.

"It seems even smaller somehow" Keri told me. She guided my hand into her shorts she wore no underwear her pussy was wet and slimy

"He was amazing. He was even bigger then we thought" she told me. I exploded all over her hand and my stomach. With in seconds. Keri laughed outloud.

"That was fast" she laughed. We got in the shower together and in great detail she told me how he had grabbed her and held her in the air as he fucked her. How she had screamed so loud she was sure everyone must of heard. All while she teased my body. I came a second time before we got out of the shower. I had her lay on the bed where I rubbed lotion over every inch of her body. When I finished Keri saw I was hard yet again.

"You really like this don't you" she teased. I just moaned. She again made me wait but teasing me keeping me on edge until the next morning after she met Alex again. This time she sucked his cock and he fucked her from behind. We had to get on the road. So I was still hard when I drove away. Out of the mountains and internet again Keri browsed through websites as I drove.

"Paul, I am going to find real men to satisfy me from now on" she stated. "You are small, no stamina, and let's face it not very take charge type' I didn't argue just agreeded. Keri asked hundreds of questions now thst she was learning what other men like me wanted.

Chastity, panties, humiliation, pegging, cocksucking, fluffing, watching? The list went on and on I tried to answer as truthfully as I could. Unsure on some things.

it was decided mostly by her that I would never be inside her again. And I could expect handjobs as my new sexual release. Keri also started making dating profiles for herself especially to ,yet men who wanted a married woman. Within days Keri had already set up dates.

I helped her get dressed and ready to meet these men. Learning to paint her nails or style her hair. Also picking out and buying lingerie for her to wear for them. Keri would have me use her vibrator on her or orally please her if they used a condom on her if they failed to satisfy her when she got home. This happened about 50% of the time. Then she would jerk me off as she told me everything they did to her. Like this night Keri was usuallu dressed but would have me completely naked during our cuddle time.

I was still naked bit cleaned off when I returned from the bathroom.

"Do you miss touching me?" Keri asked she had removed her blouse. Her red lace bra seemed about to burst as her breast heaved as she spoke. She spread her legs. Her panties in a ball on the table.

"If you clean him from me I will let you do whatever you want" she told me. We had discussed this I had no interest in eating a creampie.

But I was tempted, I wanted her.

"Try it one minute, if you don't like it you can still have me" Keri told me. She spread her legs further her skirt rode up exposing her pussy. Dried cum visible on her thigh. I hesitated

"30 seconds, take or leave it" Keri said starting to close her legs I dropped and pulled her knees apart. I had to get this over with and dove in. I could taste him straight away. Keri ran her hands through my hair her leg slid between mine and she teased my balls with her foot. The mixed juices of Keri and her lover flowed across my tounge. As Keri rested her calf against my throbbing member. I didn't even realize I was humping her leg like a dog in heat. As I consumed, no devoured her. I didn't know how long I was between her legs. The flavor became more just Keri. As she pulled my hair and came on my tounge. At the same time I pushed hard against her leg and came all over her as well. Keri stroked my hair as I just laid there with my head on her lap.

"That was amazing" Keri told me. "Do you still want to have me" she giggled her foot rubbing my empty balls and soft dick. We sat there awhile. Before we got up and got cleaned up and headed to bed. Keri cuddled up to me.

"You know you will do that everytime from now on" she reached into my underwear to find me hard as hse told me. As she slowly stroked me until I came in my briefs again. She had me sleep in my messy underwear. As she held me until I fell asleep.

[yellowbunnydreams]

The Blood Runs Thicker (part 15) ~vampire!William Afton x F! Reader~

~Sorry this has taken so long to come out! I've been on a mental health break and had assignments due and things. I've also meme'd the old man and I'm not entirely sorry for it.~

Tag-List; @ruh--roh-raggy @randymeeksisafinalgirl @sleepy---head @robin-the-enby @hungrhay @likoplays @slxsher-whxre @nicolezghostz @spiderlilytengu @yondus-girl @puppetstr1ings

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

CW:Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - ??), graphic acts of violence, biting, knife-play, blood, blood-drinking/licking, mention of dead children, anaemia. Mentions of torture. Drama/Angst. Possessive behaviour.

You weren't sure what time it was when you woke up, feeling stiff and sore and like you'd been hit and then backed over by an SUV. Groaning as you shivered under the thin motel sheet, turning onto your side with your eyes still closed before they snapped open and you remembered that William had been on top of you when you fell asleep. Sitting up and holding the sheet to you, swallowing softly as you looked around and heart beginning to beat a little faster as you stood up to look out of the window to see if the car was still there.

It wasn't.

You swore, scrambling to find any form of clothing as the thought raced in your mind that you had been left in a bloodied hotel room where the receptionist went missing and the last call was logged to your room. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together and naturally point the finger at yourself.

Tripping over a table leg in your haste, you grabbed onto the top and hissed as the thin sheet offered little protection around your body and was most definitely a contributing trip hazard, although despite your best efforts to stop and defy gravity's grip on you, your head meets the worn out motel floor with a 'thunk' that rattled about what was functional of your panicked brain. Groaning as you lifted your head and wrapped the sheet more tightly around you, feeling the front of your face warm and wet as you tentatively reached up a hand and it came away red. Swearing at yourself under your breath as you tried to gather yourself up off the floor and hearing the door rattling in the frame.

Had it even been seconds since you hit the floor? You felt fine apart from the pain in your face and your pride. Sat on the floor like a pathetic wet cat, wrapped in a bloodied sheet as William opened the door with his shoulder. Dressed in a baggy dress-shirt and some slacks, he looked almost like a counsellor at the careers office you had gone, and then you remembered that that was exactly what he was before you had gotten dragged into the whole messy affair that was the Afton family and Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

He dropped the bag that he was carrying, rushing over to you and kneeling besides you as his large calloused hands gripped your face and inspected you for damage. You wondered where he'd gotten another pair of those glasses from, since you didn't remember them at all the day before. His thumb stroked over your cupids bow as his brow furrowed and his lip curled up into his customary snarl.

"What happened? Did somebody come in? I'll fucking kill them if somebody-" You blinked at the surprisingly possessive and protective tone to his voice, quickly shaking your head and gesturing to the slightly disrupted table.

"I-I tripped, William. Calm down, I'll be okay." Shrugging slightly and trying to calm your pounding heart from the adrenaline you had experienced at seeing the car gone from outside. Looking into his steely eyes and trying to offer him a reassuring smile.

"And why the fuck weren't you looking where you were going? Bunny you need to be careful, you're probably a bit worn down from yesterday and all the shit that came with it." He said, frowning as he easily picked up on your racing heart, seeing the concern in your eyes even as you tried to hide it.

"I..." You trailed off, looking at his intensity and unsure whether the predator before you even cared to know why you were panicked. Would he care? Understand? You didn't even realise as hot tears pricked at your eyes and caught him off guard once again. William Afton was not used to being a man who had tears shed over him, rather the tears were for his victims and their families. "I thought you were gone."

"Gone?"

"T-The car wasn't t-there and I...I was rushing to t-try and...and find you c-cause I thought...." The words were hard to push out, hiccupping as William's expression softened for once, carrying something behind his grey eyes that you might have construed on any other person as care. He wrapped his arms around you, strong and warm, reassuring as his large hands rested on your back and the back of your head, cradling you against him. His nose pressed to your head and breathing in deeply.

You smelt like blood, iron and sex and panic. Things William adored usually, but it smelt wrong in that moment. He wished he had the chance to smell you like you had appeared to him for the first time. Vanilla and fruits, something sweet about the products you used and even down to your barest being. He wanted you to smell like him from the night before. Not faintly like gasoline and agony.

"Stupid bunny, you thought I'd fuck you and leave you all alone?" He asked, cooing into your head as he felt you shrug in his grip. Sighing softly as his grip only tightened at your confirmation.

"I'm a fucking monster, but even I wouldn't do that. Plus, I hate leaving debts unpaid and you certainly are owed a substantial once since you saved my life. I ran to the store to get you some things since I noticed you had nothing packed for yourself." He explained, kissing the top of your head and allowing himself to hold you a moment longer before pulling back and giving you that usual curled lip snarl that made your own mouth curl into a smile now. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, blood-bag."

His calloused demeanour made you smile, and you nodded, wiping at your eyes with the heel of your palm before William scooped you up from the floor. Muttering under his breath as he kicked the door closed and carried you back over to the bed, placing you down on it before he grabbed the bag and opened it. Pulling out a couple items of clothing and placing them on the bed next to you, looking between you and them for a moment before nodding with himself satisfactorily.

Your eyes wandered over his choices and raised an eyebrow as he held up the first item for your inspection, blush warming your cheeks as you snatched the underwear from his hands and watched the feral but charming grin he gave you as you stripped in front of him and you could feel his appraisal as he scanned your body.

"Oh that is a view I'll never tire of....especially with you all marked up, bunny."

Your cheeks warmed up more, and you shook your head as you pulled on the jeans which were a little large on your frame and there was a soft beige turtle-neck sweater which you were honestly surprised that William managed to get ahold of considering the time of year, but you dutifully pulled it on anyway, rolling the baggy sleeves up to your elbows and sighing as you already felt warm.

"I wonder who's fault that is?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at the older man as he scanned you quickly before giving an approving nod. Pulling more clothes out of the bag and stripping off his shirt to reveal his broad, scarred and coarsely haired chest. The warmth flushing through you as you averted your eyes and his low chuckle made it all the worse.

"Now you're embarrassed to see me shirtless? After all the things we did together last night? I would be hurt if my cold, dead heart could hurt." Cocking his head and flashing a wicked grin as he pulled on a new plaid shirt then a sweater over the top, combined with his jeans and sensible shoes, he looked like a dad, or perhaps that one counsellor who didn't mind that you needed a hug when you cried your eyes out.

"Well I do believe it was technically only very select parts of you I saw."

"Hm... I suppose, but don't worry blood-bag, you'll get more chances to look." You could hear the smirk in his voice and rolled your eyes, shaking your head before pulling on the worn out shoes you'd previously worn to the pizzeria. Still coated in blood and gasoline. William wrapped his arm around your shoulders and nuzzled into your shoulder for a moment, inhaling deeply before giving a little squeeze and heading to the mini-fridge, pulling out the blood-bags that had been left in there and keeping one in his hand as he gestured towards the door. "We should get going though, as tempting as you are."

"Go where, William? Elizabeth and Mike will be crawling all over Hurricane to make sure you're gone." Crossing your arms and pouting as you walked out to the car, watching William locking the motel door and chucking the keys somewhere into the wooded area nearby, the same place that there was a freshly dead body disposed of.

"You'll see. Just get in the fucking car."

Piling dutifully into the car, you watched as William grumbled adjusting the seats properly again. Making sure that it was properly adjusted back to him as the smell of a spiced air freshener almost coated the scent of bleach. Glancing into the backseat to see the the leather cleaned up better than you could have attempted. But you guessed that William had had plenty of practise cleaning up things like blood over the time he had been alive. Not that you were sure how long that was.

The radio had been turned on, William fiddling with the dial to tune it and pausing only for a moment on a radio station as you pulled onto the highway, listening as the announcer spoke in those chipper, but somehow sombre tones.

"And in local news, a once beloved establishment was burnt down. Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, a now defunct children's entertainment restaurant that was subject to a series of-"

William changed the station quickly as his shoulders tensed up. Something in his expression softened, and you realised that it wasn't his usual expression of annoyance, but rather a touch of sadness. Freddy's had clearly meant something to him.

Most of the ride was silent. And it was only around mid-afternoon that William pulled into a mall parking lot that was entirely unfamiliar to you. Putting on some sunglasses from the glovebox and swapping them with his regular gold aviators as the Utah sunshine continued to beat down on everything and make it unseasonably warm.

"Does the light bother you?" The first words you'd spoken since you started driving to...somewhere. You weren't sure where you were going still, but William seemed to know at least. Watching the vampire turning his head and look at you from behind the dark plastic, watching his brows turn in and a frown form before he looked back out at the mall parking lot.

"It does at the moment, I'm still healing up Bunny. Bright sunshine gives most vampires a headache I've found." He finally answered after a moment, his large hand continuing to rest on the steering wheel as he kept his stern expression, fingers tapping like he was waiting for something.

"You've met others?"

"A long story for another time. And, I must have met one before, wouldn't I, dumb bunny." Gesturing to his extra canines and how sharp they looked at he flashed you a wicked grin before settling into a grim expression again. "Anyway, we're stopping for you. You need to stretch, keep up the circulation in your legs. Get some food, do whatever you living things still need to do."

"Has it really been that long since you were alive?" You asked incredulously, trying to imagine how old William must be to forget what it was to be alive. The vampire sat with a stern and serious expression. But you caught the slight slip of the corner of his mouth and you smacked his arm, making him chuckle and tut dissaprovingly.

"Asshole! I thought you were ancient or something!"

"Dumb bunny, I AM ancient compared to you." He smirked, making you frown and cross your arms, eyebrows raised sceptically, earning another chuckle from him.

"Okay, so how old are you?"

"That is a very personal question young lady. But I was made as I am around....1987?" He thought for a moment before nodding, chewing his lip for a moment and running his free hand over his beard briefly, scratching subtly at the still healing skin underneath.

"How old were you?"

"About thirty? You kinda stop counting after twenty-three I find."

"So what...You're old enough to be somebody's grandpa?That's...honestly I had images of you in like Victorian gear." William snorted at the statement and began to laugh, that deep rumbling laugh that made your chest tighten and a smile light up on your face that you made the not-so-old being laugh so much.

"Good God no, fuck that! I did know a guy from that time, but we are creatures of habit. Luckily, 'steampunk' and goth fashion allowed him some leeway." Shaking his head, William opened the car door and stepped out into the oppressive heat, you following suit shortly. Making sure your sleeves were rolled up properly.

"Do you think of yourself as...however old?"

"Anybody asks, I'm in my fifties. I can mention I had kids, nobody questions it and I can talk about the eighties as much as I like."

"So...fifty-four?"

"Sure, whatever makes you happy, little perverted bunny." He stuck out his long tongue at you, earning his another light smack and a chuckle as he wrapped his arm around you, holding you possessively close as you walked into the air-conditioned mall.

"I'm not a pervert!"

"Hm...You've still fucked an old man."

"And you nearly gummed me to death." You retorted, the hair on the back of your neck raising as you heard a low, deep growl in his chest under his laugh. Leaning in and kissing the top of your head affectionately, looking to all purposes like a normal couple to anybody paying you attention before he whispered dangerously in your ear.

"Careful now, you're my dumb bunny but stupidity doesn't win you a free pass on everything." Nipping your ear harshly and making you hiss as you felt the jolt of a canine biting through skin and cartilage, leaving a pearl of blood against your skin and dripping down the shell of your ear.

He kept his arm around you as you walked. Sneaking glances at you to make sure that despite your earlier tumble and now his little bite, that you weren't looking in too rough a shape. Something in his chest tightened at the thought of you being hurt like that, he wanted to bite and mark you up for certain, but he didn't want to spoil your pretty face.

He knew that where you were going would be safe, and that you would be able to get help. He would be able to get help. But for the first time in his life, William Afton genuinely considered how much it would hurt somebody else when he had to run from it all again.

~~

Lunch was uneventful, William had taken the time to pull you into the back seat and kiss you for a little while. Calling it an apology for scaring you so much earlier, whispering sweet nothings between his lips capturing yours and his beard scratching your skin slightly. His large hand cupping your cheek and thumb stroking over your cheekbone as you sat in his lap.

Of course, he'd had to have lunch too. Although despite your protests, he had used a blood-bag and not you, but he had silenced any protests by pointing out that you'd already been fed on the previous night, and even in the best case scenario you weren't replenishing your supply THAT quickly. However he had humoured you in trying a vanilla milkshake and mixing some of the blood in, successfully hiding it as a strawberry one and realising that whilst it wasn't as good taste-wise, he did manage to get some of the flavour through.

The rest of the drive saw a little eased tension, occasionally getting William to joke and laugh with you, tutting and shaking his head as you sang along quietly to the radio or did a little dance in the passenger seat. He couldn't help the smile that filled his face as he watched you from the corner of his eye, how his expression softened as you tried to sing along to a new song even though you didn't know the words.

Or the way the gradually darkening sky cast soft orange and golden glows over your skin as the sun set and he could switch back to his usual glasses. The way your nose scrunched up when you accidentally picked up his milkshake instead of yours and took a sip. A frown began to form on his face as the sun sunk further into the horizon, his hand rubbing over his beard again nervously.

He had to remember that you were only human.

But as the darkness coated the sky, occasionally blocking the stars with the orange glow of sodium lamps along the highway and you had quietened down as you fell asleep against the seat, head facing towards him, which made him smile a little, he spotted the sign he'd both been hoping for and dreading.

Eventually, he spotted the worn out but well cared for road a few blocks before the city proper. Turning down it and feeling his undead heart beating far too quickly for his liking. Swallowing softly as he reached over and shook you gently, smiling slightly as he watched you waking up and rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palm.

"Where are we?" Your voice still laced with the last traces of sleep as you recognised that you'd turned off of the highway and onto a smaller road, peering into the darkness as you spotted a house at the end. A little like how William's was set back from the road, but without the woodlands to shelter it and this house was distinctly more modern and cared for. A well tended garden coming into view as William pulled the car into what you assumed as the end of the driveway, spotting a mini-van parked besides it and looking at the dash to see the time before he turned the car off.

"Somewhere necessary." Was the quiet reply, the vampire taking a deep breath before stepping out of the car and coming around to help you out of your side. Making sure that your sweater was adjusted and covering any marks he might have made before he locked the car and headed towards the door of the house, gesturing for you to follow him.

There were lights on inside, which was strange considering the late hour but you couldn't help but sense that something about William was tense and ready to spring. It made you nervous that the predator you had become intimately acquainted with feeling out of his element and less confident, what on Earth scared the formidable and mostly unkillable William Afton so much?

His large hand reached up and he hesitated before he knocked, looking at you briefly before seeming to make up his mind and straightening his shoulders and knocking briskly. A quick series that sounded firm, but friendly all at the same time.

Sounds of movement behind the wood snapped your attention back to the building, and you watched as the door cracked open slightly. William stiffening slightly as there was a pause before the door opened slowly and revealed the person behind it.

He was an older man. Wearing thick glasses and clearly somebody who used to be wirey and strong despite the slightly larger body he had now, sagging with age and possibly years of homemade meals by the paunch he supported. His green eyes blinking as you noticed his curly, mostly silver hair was tied back and peppered with the last remnants of what might have been black or very dark brown. His expression slack jawed and loose as he simply stared at William, seeming to not even notice your presence as William shifted uncomfortably.

"I....You...You're..." The man stammered, his voice croaking as he found it and swallowing a few times before he seemed to come to some sense and the expression of disbelief become more clear on his soft features. "William."

"It's good to see you again, old friend." William said after a moment, giving a tight, closed lip smile as you furrowed your brow. Watching the taller man swallow and shift his weight uncomfortably onto one foot before he gestured to you, drawing the older man's attention over to you finally. William calling you by your name for the first time in a while before he sucked in a deep breath and turned to you with what looked like a pained but attempting to be reassuring smile.

"This is my old friend, Mr. Henry Emily."

#william afton #william afton x reader #steve raglan #springtrap #steve raglan x reader #fnaf movie #springtrap x reader #william afton x you #william afton smut #fnaf x reader #vampire william afton

[tumbleweed-writes]

Death and the Lady: Chapter Eleven: Chibs Telford X Reader

TAG LIST:

@youngadult9016  @mrsfilipchibstelford @mamawiggers1980 @ravennaortiz @liveinsteadofdreaming @redwoodmaya

PREVIOUS CHAPTER FOUND HERE

TW: Description of Decay, Smut. 18+

CHAPTER ELEVEN: REASSURANCES

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She was barefoot in the cemetery; the ground cold, damp, and mushy below her feet. She frowned at the realization that she had no shoes on in a place where it very much seemed as though she should be wearing shoes.

Being barefoot outdoors, especially in such a public place in the dark, seemed to be just asking for a foot injury. She was certain this was a tetanus shot waiting to happen. She didn’t even go barefoot in her own yard. Why was she without shoes right now of all times? 

She didn’t have much time to focus on this realization nor this question though, the strong grip on her hand and the Scotsman ahead of her pulling her forward. His movement seemed far too quick for her; his legs were much longer than her own which meant that he moved forward at longer strides than she felt capable of. She was almost certain if he moved any faster she’d trip over her own feet…especially in the wet ground. Her lack of shoes seemed to give her no traction in the damp bit of mud mixed with grass below her feet. 

She thought to protest the swiftness in which he was pulling her forward, but had not a chance as he spoke, not even turning back to glance her way. “Jus’ a wee bit further. We’re close now.”

“Where are we going?” She dared to ask confusion washing over her as she struggled to keep up with his pace. She wanted to stop and force him to face her. She wanted to demand that he explain what was going on. She was sure if she stopped though he’d risk yanking her forward and making her fall to the ground with as quick as he was moving.

“You’ll see. We jus’ got a wee bit further to go. Trus’ me, we’re almos’ there.” Chibs replied his answer far too vague.

She parted her lips, tempted to prod him for more information. However, she remained silent; something about the pace in which he was moving and the demanding pull of her body behind him telling her he was the one calling the shots at the moment.

She stared down at her clothing, a greater sense of bewilderment washing over her. The knee length white nightgown she wore was not at all what she’d been expecting. The nightgown was sleeveless and sat loosely on her body; the fabric almost flowing as she moved. The delicate straps and the thin cotton of the gown seemed as though it would do so little to warm her in the cold night air. 

She was certain she owned a nightgown similar to this one. She owned quite a few nightgowns; most of them vintage pieces she’d acquired at thrift shops during her years in New York and a few vintage pieces that had once belonged to ancestors of hers. She had quite a few of her ancestors' old clothing sitting in a closet in one of the spare bedrooms. She’d always had a love for vintage pieces. Even if she didn’t wear some of the more delicate vintage pieces in her closet she still had an admiration for them. 

She preferred nightgowns when she slept, but didn’t quite understand why she was wearing a nightgown in the middle of a cemetery. This was never something she would wear outdoors, especially in such a public place. 

Chibs was dressed as he usually always was; jeans, a dark top, and his leather kutte. She could barely make out the reaper on his back in the dim light of the night. 

She glanced around her at her surroundings as Chibs continued to pull her forward. She didn’t recognize anything around her and she had a feeling it wasn’t just because it was so dark out. 

She could barely make out her surroundings from far away, but up close she could spot a few distinctive features. The cemetery felt old. The grass felt overgrown as though the grounds had not been maintained in a long while. She spotted none of the usual sightings of a cemetery; no flowers left out by mourners, no maintained trees and carefully landscaped plants, no sign of care. 

To her, cemeteries had always felt peaceful. She’d always been able to find some beauty in them. She wasn’t sure if it was just that she spent so much time in cemeteries due to her job, but she’d always been able to appreciate them. 

This place held no beauty though. It felt almost lifeless; like a caricature of a cemetery that one might view in some old black and white horror film.

The tombstones around her felt grand; towering obelisk monuments, old magnificent crypts, and worn gravestones whose inscriptions had long since faded. Everything seemed so gray and dreary. 

She was sure that she couldn’t possibly be in any part of Charming’s local cemetery, not even the older sections.

She was certain if she was in Charming’s cemetery then she’d recognize her surroundings. She’d been all over the property with her job. She knew every section of that cemetery by heart. She remembered the name of the first person buried in that cemetery and how many available plots remained in each section. 

This cemetery was nothing like the one in Charming, To be honest, it resembled a few of the older cemeteries she’d been to during her time out in New York when she’d first begun to work as a funeral director. She’d had to go upstate once or twice for a burial and a few of the cemeteries there had been filled with tombstones that dated back to the original colonies when the USA was still under British rule. 

She peered up at the night sky, the realization hitting her that it must be cloudy as the moon was barely visible. She could barely see a sliver of moon behind the dark clouds. The stars were not visible at all, the lack of moon and stars made her surroundings devoid of any natural lighting.

She frowned as she felt a light drip of wetness against her skin as the dark clouds above her started to release just a hint of rain.

She parted her lips to mention the rain to Chibs and request that they seek shelter indoors in order to avoid being caught in an incoming storm, but the comment died on her lips as she heard a distinct rustle of movement behind her.

She turned struggling to glance behind her as Chibs continued on his path, yanking her behind him. She peered through the dark of the night straining her eyes struggling to see just what was responsible for the noise, but spotting nothing.

The noise sounded out again close enough for her to recognize it as the shuffle of feet somewhere out in the pitch black of night. She couldn't shake the sense that she was being watched like prey by someone or something that was just waiting for a chance to pounce. 

She spoke, her voice faint and fearful. “Filip, there’s something out there. I think it’s following us.”

She earned no response, turning back to face the man who’d just moments ago been dragging her along her stomach dropping as she realized he was nowhere in sight.

She turned searching her surroundings for him seeing only the dark of the night and the shape of the tombstones around her, her voice growing frantic. “Filip? Where are you? Filip?”

She was met with silence, her arms wrapping around herself both trying to protect herself from the cold night chill and the sudden realization that she was alone in a strange place with something clearly stalking her out in the darkness.

She called out again her heart slamming in her chest she moving forward hoping she’d just gotten separated from him and would catch up to the Scotsman soon. “Filip? Where are you?”

She heard the shuffle of movement behind her, the sound close enough that she was sure she could reach out and touch whatever was responsible for it if she were to turn around and face it.

She turned to face it praying against odds it was Chibs. Bile rose in her throat at the sight in front of her. 

She recognized the man. It was one of the deceased men she’d allowed SAMCRO to borrow. He was mostly recognizable by the suit he’d been dressed in for his funeral…the suit he’d not been buried in as his body had been loaned out to the Sons prior to the funeral. Instead bags of concrete had been buried in his place…bags she’d placed in weighing them out carefully to imitate the feeling of an occupied closed casket. The unoccupied casket had not been found until later the bags of concrete missing compliments of SAMCRO. Not a soul other than the Sons and she knew this man had never occupied that grave. 

Decomposition had begun to set in to the man’s features. The man’s skin had taken a somewhat green tone and begun to split as bloat had set in; gasses from his decaying organs clearly releasing. She was confused by the sight as she had embalmed him, puncturing his organs with a trocar. There should be no gasses remaining in his organs. How were there still gasses to make him bloat? Black purge leaked from his orifices and insect life had begun to settle in. She could spot flies buzzing around him and maggots wriggling in a few pockets of his split skin. One of his eyes had gone a milky white and the other had rotted away completely leaving him with an open empty black socket.

Despite the advanced rate of decay the man managed to shamble forward his hands reaching out towards her his nails black a few of the nails having already fallen off his fingers.

She snapped out of her shock and disgust moving backwards barely escaping his grasp. She turned struggling to move forward the muddy ground below her and her lack of shoes caused  her to slide and struggle as she attempted her escape.

She heard another rustle of movement to her left, another body appearing to start a slow shamble in her direction.

She recognized this body easily. It was the very first deceased she’d been solely responsible for burying back in New York.

The young woman looked exactly the way she’d looked when Y/N had first stared down at her on that embalming table years ago before she’d gotten started on trying to make her look presentable for the modest funeral her family had paid for. 

She could remember how young the woman had looked laying there lifeless on the embalming table. They’d been close in age and Y/N remembered thinking that they could have gone to school together at one point. Y/N could also remember thinking to herself that it could have easily been her on that embalming table had she remained in Charming with Gunner and SAMCRO. The thought had been a sobering one especially for her first official solo embalming job. 

The dead woman was just as thin as Y/N remembered her being, the drug addiction she’d struggled from in life making her almost skeletal. Her skin held no sign of color to it. The skin was pallid aside from the pooling of purple where blood had settled on her right side. She’d been lying on her right side when she passed and once the heart had stopped pumping blood it had all settled to the lowest point in the body. Livor mortis truly was a fascinating thing, or at least Y/N had always thought it was interesting to consider. The dead woman’s long fair hair was stringy and greasy lying limply against her scalp. She wore the same stained yellowed white sundress Y/N could remember cataloging when her body had first been rolled into the funeral home back in New York. Her long nails were dirty and chipped bits of red polish still remained on them. 

Her eyes were a pale shade of blue, any sign of life behind them long gone. Those lifeless eyes were fixed on Y/N and as strange as it sounded Y/N was almost certain she could spot a sense of hatred in them despite the lack of light behind the dead woman’s eyes. 

Y/N continued to move forward struggling in the wet ground as the rain above her fell harder making the mud feel sticky and thick below her. Her nightgown was drenched quickly, the fabric feeling heavy on her form as she tried her hardest to escape.

She fell to the ground, the slickness of the mud far too difficult to maneuver through at such a quick frantic pace. She cried out the deceased pursuing her, growing closer and closer by the second.

She felt a strong pair of hands grip her upper arms, her heart lifting hoping it was Chibs. Perhaps he’d returned to rescue her.

Her blood ran cold as she was roughly pulled back upright meeting the eyes of who she’d foolishly hoped would be her savior. 

Gunner smirked down at her his grip on her arms growing harsh as he spoke a sense of glee in his voice. “Hey, Girl. Did you miss me?”

He turned her around to face the deceased who were still shambling towards her his voice was cruel but so amused. “Here she is, guys. Come get her.”

She cried out begging to the dead to leave her be and spare her. “No, please, no. Stay away from me, please. I’m sorry, please don’t.”

A familiar voice sounded out among her panicked cries, the Scottish brogue soothing and gentle. “Hey, Hen. Yer havin’ a bad dream, Lass. Come on, wake up.”

The voice continued, sounding out over the horror in front of her and her cries of panic and pleas for forgiveness. “Come on, Love. It’s okay. Ya can wake up now, Hen. Yer safe. I’ve got ya.”

Awareness kicked in rapidly; she shot up in bed, her breathing labored. She gazed around the dark of her room, her heart slamming in her chest.

She struggled to comprehend that none of the horror she’d just experienced had all been manufactured in her mind. She struggled to accept that she was in fact safe and sound in her bedroom, her concerned boyfriend staring up at her through the darkness of her room.

Chibs felt her shoot up out of his embrace. He reached out blindly in the unfamiliar room, it taking him a moment to find the lamp on the nightstand at the side of her bed he’d fallen into the night before.

He finally located the switch turning the light on giving the room a dull pleasant glow in an otherwise stressful situation. He sat up alongside her, reaching out hesitantly to place a hand against her lower back. He was almost sure touching her too quickly would send her into an even more frantic state. It seemed as though she was locked in a panic attack whatever she’d dreamed about horrifying her. He was almost certain that touching her too hastily would send her into fight mode. 

 He rubbed soft soothing circles into her back trying to give her some silent reassurance while she sorted through whatever had just occurred in her sleep. 

He’d woken when she’d begun to thrash beside him the murmured words leaving her lips more and more rapidly by the second. No, please, no. I’m sorry. Please don’t. Please no. I’m so sorry. Please no. 

She struggled to catch her breath for a moment, it always feeling like this when she woke from one of the nightmares that had become frequent since she’d agreed to help out SAMCRO. She always struggled to pull herself out of that sense that she needed to fight for her life or run screaming. It always took a moment for her to reassure herself that she was safe in her bedroom and not in danger of losing her life and her soul to the dead who pursued her so relentlessly. 

The only thing that seemed to be different this time around was that she was not waking up all alone to deal with the aftermath.

Chibs continued to rub her back, uncertain of what to say. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to her but none of them felt quite soothing nor good enough.

He was tempted to bring up his own experience with nightmares. Lord knows he’d had a few of them all about how Jimmy O’ had attacked him back in Belfast. He was tempted to reassure her that he’d experienced the same sense of panic she was currently locked in. He was tempted to promise her that it would all be alright. 

He kept his hand pressed to her back, his eyes scanning the room feeling dazed, worried, and exhausted.

He’d not had much of a chance to really take a look around the master bedroom before they’d gone to bed the night before.

He’d been more focused on stripping down to his boxers and undershirt and getting into bed beside the woman he had been imagining having the privilege of sharing a bed with probably from the moment he’d realized that his liking her went far beyond just lust.

He’d folded up his kutte and clothing leaving them on a red velvet living chair in the corner of the room by the closet. He’d placed his gun and his knives between his clothing and the kutte uncertain how Y/N would feel about the weapons being out in plain sight.

The room was larger than he’d anticipated. 

The room was a bit cluttered but nothing compared to the rest of the house. The clutter felt more personal than any of the family heirlooms in the other parts of the house. The belongings spread throughout the space made it feel cozy and welcoming. It seemed to reflect the woman who rested here. 

The walls were painted a deep navy tone though he had a feeling that may have been her father’s choice given the room had once belonged to him and several ancestors prior. 

Chibs took notice of the old vanity table sitting directly across from her side of the bed studying the bottles of perfume set out on it alongside a surprisingly large wooden grandiose looking jewelry box, and a large collection of makeup that was all neatly sorted in an organizer. 

A soft looking purple rug sat out in front of the vanity table; it seeming far less intimidating than the exquisite looking persian rugs throughout the rest of the upper portion of the house and downstairs in the funeral home portion of the house. 

Her closet appeared large from what he’d seen it looking more like a walk in closet than anything. Two dressers sat in the room and a few items sat spread out over the tops of them; a few small framed photos from Y/N’s childhood. There were a couple of crystals sitting out; a large piece of rose quartz and another amethyst, this one much larger than the one he’d spotted out in the living room.

A few small framed taxidermy butterflies were mounted on the wall alongside a couple of paintings that looked to be antiques. The paintings featured delicate flowers and songbirds. 

There were several books on gardening stacked on a dresser showing Y/N had a love for the hobby. He found it kind of amusing. His Hen who worked daily with death and who everyone knew as the town undertaker loved a hobby that was all about nurturing something that most people associated with life. 

The queen sized bed held a heavy looking tall ornate headboard made out of dark cherry wood. The headboard was something Y/N had casually mentioned, the night before, that she’d gotten in a thrift shop back when she’d been living in New York. it had been a steal she’d claimed as it was old and obviously had been well cared for. 

Her bedsheets were a soft mint tone and they felt comforting and soothing to his mind. A heavy gray comforter and a handmade colorful quilt covered the bed making it feel cozy and safe.

The houseplants had caught Chibs' attention. There were several of them; all well taken care of sitting throughout the room. Those that needed bright light sat along her window seal and others sat throughout the room in ceramic pots. The plants made the room feel fresh and full of life. 

The room felt like a nice escape from the sensory overload in the rest of the living quarters portion of the house and the dreary knowledge of what happened on a daily basis in the downstairs funeral home portion of the house. 

Chibs easily realized he could grow accustomed to spending his nights in this room if she allowed him the privilege. It felt far more comforting than his bed in the dorm at the Sons clubhouse or the pathetic bed he kept in a small studio apartment he rented for when he wanted to take a rest away from the noise of the Sons clubhouse. 

The gentle rub to Y/N’s back was enough to break her out of the panicked sense of dread she’d been locked in; she was surprised as tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes.

She turned to face Chibs, scooting close to him, her arms wrapping tight around him. She allowed the tears to fall more rapidly. She was too exhausted to bother attempting to wipe them away or hide them the way she usually might when she had to cry in front of someone.

She’d never felt 100 percent comfortable crying around people. She had to wonder if it was just because she’d grown up in an environment where there seemed to be a constant stream of crying mourners coming in and out of the home. She’d always associated crying as something that was only meant to be done in front of others in serious situations like the death of a loved one.

As she’d gone into the funeral business she’d learned to hold back tears even more. It was inappropriate to cry in front of the mourners you were meant to serve. She’d adopted the concept that their grief was not hers so she had zero right to cry. She had learned to keep her emotions locked tight close to her chest. Crying was only done in private and never in front of anyone else. 

She’d found that crying in front of anyone just made her feel awkward and embarrassed. Her tendency to compartmentalize her emotions on the job had seeped into her personal life it seemed. 

Chibs wrapped his arms around her, rocking her against him, his voice soft and soothing. “It’s all okay now, Hen. I’m here, I’ve got ya.”

She gripped down onto his undershirt, her face burying against his chest wanting to be surrounded by the familiar scent of him. It was a scent that had soothed her to sleep the night before; a hint of cigarettes and the faintest hint of his cologne. 

He ran a hand up and down her back continuing to rock her his words soft and soothing reminding her that he had her and that everything was okay in this room.

He found himself repeating the phrases I’ve got you. It’s okay now. It’s over now. You’re okay now. You’re safe. 

His soothing managed to calm her enough to stop her tears but she remained locked in his embrace. They both found themselves holding on to one another tightly both seeming to seek reassurance and a sense of peace. 

He dared to speak though he already knew the answer to his question. “Nightmare, Hen?”

She nodded her head wordlessly. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, he quick to speak again. “You want ta talk bout it?”

She let out a heavy sigh, a cruel voice in the back of her brain telling her that if he knew about the content of her nightmares he’d write her off as being unstable and therefore a risk to SAMCRO. 

She shushed the voice, choosing to give him a brief summary. “You, me, some cemetery…the dead I’ve buried stalking me in the night. You disappeared this time around. Usually you let them drag me away screaming. You actually usually seem pretty thrilled when they drag me away, kind of like you were in on it…almost like it was a trap and you were an accomplice. This time Gunner was there too…he offered me up to them gleefully. One of the bodies I loaned to SAMCRO and the first body I ever embalmed all alone were the dead who were after me this time around.”

He spoke absorbing this information the need to reassure her sliding from his lips. “You know I’d never let anythin’ happen to ya, Lass. I’d sure as hell not let anyone drag ya away from me. As far as Gunner goes. Ya never gotta worry bout him again. We’ve already established I’ll fuckin’ break his legs and arms if he comes near ya ever again.”

He paused, clearing his throat knowing the exact incidents that had been the culprit behind these dreams. He felt an awful sense of guilt claw inside of him digging its nails in making him feel anguished.

He spoke wanting badly to fix this for her even if he was uncertain that what he was offering to her was even possible. “If…if ya doin’ favors fer the club, if it's hurtin’ ya like this. I can get ya out of it…I’m sure Skeeter would be happy to pick up yer end of the deal even if he’s tryin to quit gamblin. As long as we still got a funeral home connection ya shoul’ be in the clear.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure my backing out on my end of the deal and handing the responsibility over to Skeeter will be just fine and dandy with the MC. I won’t be seen as knowing too much and being a risk at all.” She snarked back, unable to hide the venom from her voice.

She cringed parting her lips to apologize for her harshness but she didn’t have a chance as Chibs spoke, sounding surprisingly certain of his words. “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt a hair on yer head…not even my club.”

She sighed wishing that taking the solution he was offering was that simple. She could distinctly remember her talk with Clay just last night though. 

SAMCRO’s Pres had urged her to keep making both Chibs and the Sons happy. She was certain backing out on her end of the partnership she’d offered to develop with SAMCRO would not make the Sons happy at all. Chibs might forgive her for backing out of the deal she’d made, but the rest of the Sons most likely would not be so understanding. 

As much as she trusted Chibs, she was quite certain that even he couldn’t protect her from the wrath nor the suspicions of Clay Morrow. If she backed down and handed over the responsibility of the bargain she’d made with SAMCRO to Skeeter, she’d be written off as a threat to the MC. She knew too much. She would be viewed as a loose end that they could easily snip off. 

She was certain that Chibs would be powerless to fully provide her protection if she was viewed as a threat to SAMCRO. Even if he tried to protect her, then who was to say he’d not be given the same treatment; treated as a threat. They would most likely view his attempts to protect her as a sign of weakness and disloyalty to the club. 

She spoke her voice soft but determined. “I made a deal with SAMCRO. I intend to keep up my end of the bargain.”

“Even if it’s torturin’ yer mind, Hen?” Chibs countered he scooting back just enough to peer into her eyes.

She let out a soft sigh averting her eyes from his, the words soft. “The nightmares are not happening as frequently as they did at first. The nightmares are probably just picking up because of all of the stress of tonight. I had a nightmare the night after I was practically interrogated by Hale. I think stress and anxiety triggers them. My brain is just a jerk who can’t process guilt and taunts me with things I don’t feel so awesome about…the guilt of what I’ve done along with the fear of being caught.”

She let out a shaky breath feeling safe enough to say the words out loud. “I can accept that what I’ve done means I’m an awful person who deserves hell. I betrayed the profession I swore to uphold the ethics of. I have caused immense pain to the bereaved. I disrespected the dead that were entrusted in my care. I could and should lose my license for what I did. I deserve any suffering that comes my way. I know that. I’ve made my bed and I need to lie in it”

“Ya ain’ an awful person. What ya did fer the club was…” Chibs started to say before she spoke, interrupting him.

“Morally repugnant, abuse of a corpse, an insult to decent society, a sin.”

He spoke again, rolling his eyes somewhat at her comments. “Ethically…questionable. Yer far from bein awful and deservin any torture. The world ain’ that black and white, Hen. Ya gotta realize shite is more of a shade of gray…at least in our world. Jus’ focus on the fact that ya made sure those bodies did get a final rest when SAMCRO was done with em. Ya weren’t responsible fer what we did with em. We didn’t tell ya why we wanted em. What happened after ya agreed to help us, that’s my sin to suffer fer, Lass. I’ll take hell fer ya. Those families will never know the truth. They didn’t blame ya fer the version of events they were given since ya didn’t get sued. They don’ know what ya did. Only SAMCRO does, and we ain’ judgin’ ya. The bereaved and the rest of society know nothin’ bout what really happened, and they never will. What they don’t know won’t hurt em.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her temple as he spoke again. “ I want ya to think bout what ya did fer those bodies we had ya cremate…ya cared nough to give em a final restin’ spot. Ya buried em with care under that rose bush. Ya made sure they found peace somewhere beautiful to rest, even if ya didn’t know what they’d want. Ya gave em that care in the end. Someone truly morally repugnant wouldn’t bury cremains of lasses she didn’t even know with such care. Someone who was so awful wouldn’ care bout what happened to those cremains. Ya cared though. Yer carin means ya ain’ so bad.”

She sighed, wanting to argue that she was just as responsible as him as she’d agreed to loan out the bodies in the first place even if it had been for much needed money. 

The fact that she’d sold her morals for money made her feel even worse. She knew the debts she’d inherited had been crushing her, but she also knew she’d had other options. They’d just not been options she wanted to take. She’d been selfish and greedy. She’d been impulsive and dived face first into danger. She had proven she hadn’t changed as much as she’d claimed she had when she exclaimed she was nothing like the girl she’d been almost a decade before. She was still prone to run towards danger like a moth to the flame. If she was feeling the burn of the flame then she had no one to blame but herself. 

She held her tongue though knowing that this was one argument she had zero chance in hell of winning. She knew enough about Chibs to realize that his stubborn streak was equally the width of hers.

She dared to speak, bringing up something that had been troubling her. “What am I supposed to do if anyone ever asks where the money you guys gave me came from? I paid those bills in cash…they were large payments for cash…cash that I just seemed to get out of nowhere. Suppose someone ever looks into my financial records if the police keep looking into those empty graves.  What do I do if anyone ever asks me just where I got so much money out of nowhere?”

Chibs sighed, wracking his brain for a reasonable answer. He spoke as an idea crossed his mind, hoping it was a reasonable solution. “Ya tell em ya did some funeral plannin fer Gemma…Tell em she wanted to make funeral plans fer Clay an her…ya know plan ahead of time fer the future. Say she paid ya in cash fer it all. Clay and she got nough investments in all sorts of legit shite. It’d sound reasonable to think ya got paid in cash. Ya can throw some bullshite plans together as evidence ya planned it. Gemma and Clay would cover fer ya and collaborate yer story if anyone ever asked.”

She sighed knowing that counting on Gemma Teller Morrow or Clay Morrow to be an essential alibi for her wasn’t ideal. She had a feeling that it would work in a bind though. They wouldn’t just be protecting her after all. They’d be protecting the misdeed she’d done for the club and therefore protecting the club itself.

She nodded her head, unable to stop herself from voicing her fears. “I always worry that one day what I’ve done for SAMCRO will lead back to me and I’ll lose everything. I love my job, Filip. I’m where I was meant to be, working here. This is essentially what I was born to do. It’s my legacy and I’ve finally gotten to a place in my life where I want to accept it. I’m good at what I do. I can’t lose that. It’ll be like losing part of my identity. I won’t know who I am without my job.”

“Ya ain’ goin’ to lose a thing, Hen. That fuckin’ case in Lodi is cold and the local PD there have given up on it. We’ve been havin’ Juice monitor shite gettin intel from a connection we got outta the San Joaquin county department. They’re able to call in and see what’s goin in all the departments in the county without it soundin’ suspicious. Those empty graves and that staged crime scene are old news in Lodi. Cops there got bigger fish to fry. The case ran cold and leads ran dry. I think yer in the clear.” Chibs reassured her she frowning slightly at the mention of this connection in San Joaquin. She would never cease to be amazed in how long the arms of SAMCRO reached.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, he fast to speak again. “I love how much ya love yer job, Hen. Yer righ’, yer fuckin incredible at yer job. Ya ain’ losin’ yer legacy. Ya ain’ gotta worry about losin that part of yerself, not fer the club and never fer me.”

He pressed another kiss to her temple, his words soft. “Trus’ me Mo ghràidh. I’m not in the habit of lyin’ to pretty lasses.”

“What does that mean…Mo ghràidh?” She dared to ask as she soaked in his reassurances, this not being the first time she’d heard the unfamiliar words leave his lips.

He spoke, managing to pull back just enough from her to press a soft kiss to her lips as he spoke. “Scottish Gaelic, Hen. It means "My love.”

If her heart hadn’t already overflowed with devotion for him at least a dozen times tonight she was certain it would have in this moment. Her lips pressed to his cheek, her voice soft and filled with a sense of fond adoration. “Oh, Filip. How are you this sweet?”

He chuckled, shaking his head at the comment not helping but to lean into the press of her lips to his cheek. “I’m only sweet to ya, Hen. Don’ tell no one. Gotta keep up my reputation, especially with the prospect. Can’t let em know I’m this soft.”

She smiled, wanting to point out that he was far sweeter to more people than he realized. She held it in though, pressing another kiss to his cheek.

Her lips ran across his skin adoringly, Chibs not helping but to sink into the affection. He was certain he’d never grow accustomed to someone kissing him with such tenderness and he knew for a fact he’d never be entirely convinced he deserved such warmth. He was eager to soak it up all the same.

He managed to turn his face, his lips sliding along hers with ease. The kiss easily grew impassioned, his tongue finding no resistance, she parting her lips.

She let out a soft moan as he slid his tongue along hers, easily dominating the kisses she sank into his affections.

She reluctantly parted her lips from his an idea crossing her mind. She smiled at him, her voice soft as she reached out toying with the collar of his undershirt. “So, you said that tonight was all about me…making me feel good?”

“Aye, it was.” He insisted his heart rate picking up, he trying not to get his hopes up on what she might be about to offer him. He was quite certain he’d eagerly take anything she was willing to give him. 

She leaned in her lips brushing across his so lightly; the kiss was not nearly enough for him. She smirked as she pulled away, he leaning forward chasing her lips.

She gently shoved him back to rest against the bed, her voice teasing. “So…it’s around three a.m…I could argue that last night was just about me. It’s technically a new day.”

“Aye, it is.” He agreed a heat spreading to the lower region of his body, his heart beating all the quicker.

She laid down beside him, her lips sliding along his cheek down to his neck. “So, can this morning be about you?”

“Aye, Hen. I wouldn’t say no to tha’ offer.” He insisted a low moan leaving him as her lips moved along his pulse point, pressing soft sucking kisses into his skin.

He was certain she might leave a mark behind and he couldn’t help but to love the idea. He knew he’d wear any lovebites from her proudly. 

She ran a hand down his torso teasingly her lips focused on his neck, his head falling back soaking up the attention.

She ran a hand under his undershirt caressing his warm skin, a small sense of anxiety building ever so slightly within him. He was almost tempted to attempt to suck in his stomach. He knew his midsection was far wider than he’d prefer.

She didn’t seem to notice that he was a little heavier than he’d like her hand caressing his skin, her touch soft and teasing.

He turned his head, her lips pressing to his, the kiss growing deep as her hand ran down his torso far too slowly. Her fingertips passed over his hips gently running along his thigh, a groan leaving him.

She ran her hand back up his thigh, sliding it over his abdomen, a groan leaving him the lower region of his body perking up almost as though it was trying to tempt her into touching him.

Another groan left him as she gave in her hand pressing over his boxer clad member a soft moan leaving her as she spoke. “Can I touch you, Baby? I want to stroke this cock and make you feel so good.”

He eagerly nodded his head, the words becoming jumbled up on his lips he wanting to say a million things.

She spoke teasingly, almost parroting a phrase he’d murmured to her the night before in pursuit of pleasuring her. “I need words, Filip.”

He groaned, nodding his head. “Fuck, Hen. Aye ya can do whatever ya want to me.”

She giggled at the comment the action making his cock twitch. She spoke, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “That’s a dangerous offer to make, Handsome.”

“Never been one to shy away from danger, Lass.” He remarked his heart lifting at the word handsome. It had been so long since anyone had called him such a thing.

He whined as she pulled away all too suddenly. She smirked, shaking her head at the whine that left his lips. 

She pressed a reassuring kiss to his cheek, her voice soft. “I need to grab something that’s going to help us out.”

He furrowed his brow as she turned in bed reaching for the drawer in her nightstand. He smirked understanding as she rolled back over holding up a tube of lubricant. 

He spoke nodding his head at the tube, a knowing smirk on his lips. “Ya keep lube in yer nightstand, Hen?”

She returned the smirk as she spoke. “Yep, it can be helpful especially when I’m a little too eager to really work myself up and get as wet as I want before I make myself cum with my vibrator.”

He groaned the words making his cock throb. He closed his eyes for a brief moment overcome with imagery of what she was describing. He could so easily imagine her lying back in this bed, a toy buried so deep in her wet center. He could imagine her writhing against the bed as the toy buzzed away moans pouring from her lips. 

He spoke daring to open his eyes as he watched her open the tube squirting a healthy amount of lube into her hand. “Fuck, Hen. I think I may need a demonstration some time.”

“You want to hump my vibrator?” She teased a giggle leaving his lips , he shaking his head.

“Nah, think we already established I wanna give ya the humpin round ere. I wouldn’ mind seeing ya play though, Love. Bet it’s a fuckin’ beautiful sight.” He insisted his cock throbbing at the thought.

She spoke knowing just what to say to make him moan. “Last time I did it, we’d just ended a phone call. The sound of your voice was enough to make me want to make myself cum. I think that accent of yours is a kink I didn’t even know I had.”

“Christ, Mo ghràidh.” he moaned, his reaction being exactly what she’d envisioned.

She spoke, a surprisingly dominant tone entering her voice. “Get rid of those boxers for me, Filip.”

He groaned, shoving the bed sheets and comforter down with zero shame as he frantically reached down practically ripping his boxers off his movements a little clumsy. 

His boxers were kicked off somewhere off the side of the bed, she gazing down at his cock a soft moan leaving her as she spoke. “Fuck, Filip. You’re way more impressive than I’d hoped.”

He groaned knowing this wasn’t the first time a sexual partner had made a comment about his dick. In the past though, when a croweater thought to comment on his size he’d always assumed it was absolute bullshit. The club sweetbutts tended to just say whatever they thought whichever Son they were with wanted to hear.

Talking about how huge a guy was seemed to be a favorite line among the croweaters no matter what size their bedroom partner might be.

With Y/N though, he had the sense that her words were genuine judging by the sense of lust washing over features.

She stared down at him, her clit distinctly throbbing. She wasn’t lying. He was thicker than she’d hoped for and longer than she’d thought he might be. He was just above average enough to pack the promise that he’d feel good without it being too much. 

He wasn’t so huge that she was certain he’d just be painful buried inside of her. She knew some guys were deluded enough to think that the bigger the more pleasurable. She knew though that too big could just be uncomfortable. Some guys seemed to think that a woman’s body was unending but that was not the case at all. She’d found in the past that too big meant less inside and a sense of discomfort. There was a fine line between being thick and long enough to provide a pleasant stretch and being so brutally huge it felt like you were being ripped in half.

She had a feeling that Chibs favored the pleasurable stretch side of the coin.

She pressed her lips to his, the kiss growing deep without any effort. Chibs groaned into the kiss as she wrapped her lube slicked hand around his cock.

She stroked him slowly, his head falling back moans of pleasure spilling from his lips. He rocked against her touch she pulling her hand back a frustrated whine leaving him.

She spoke her voice so teasing. “Stay still and enjoy it, Filip.”

He groaned gripping down onto the bedsheets nodding his head frantically, having to wonder when he’d become so submissive. 

There was something incredibly erotic about letting her take control though. It was not something he’d thought he’d be willing to do with any bedroom partner.

He found that he was all too eager to lie back and let her take control for now at least.

She wrapped her hand back around him stroking him so slowly a groan leaving him he resisting the urge to rock against her to increase the pleasure. 

She spoke her voice soft and sweet. “So beautiful, Filip. You’re so handsome.”

He spoke his voice thick with lust. “We gotta get ya glasses, Hen. Fuck.”

He paused, shaking his head a giggle leaving him as he spoke again. “Actually nevermin’. Don’t wanna get ya glasses. Ya migh’ see what an ugly bastard I am if yer vision gets better.”

She spoke pressing an adoring kiss to his lips, he moaning against her lips. She spoke as she pulled from the kiss far sooner than he’d hoped. “Shush, you’re not ugly. You’re the sweetest, the bravest, and the most handsome man I know.”

He groaned as she sped up her movements, her voice teasing. “If you weren’t handsome I wouldn’t have worn out the batteries in my vibrator thinking about you.”

He grunted the words leaving him. “Fuckin jack off too much to ya, Love. Livin’ with my hand down my fuckin’ boxers every nigh’ since we met.” 

She moaned her clit throbbing at the confession. She spoke, reaching forward with her other hand massaging his balls, the action making his eyes practically roll into the back of his head, a loud moan leaving him.

She spoke pulling her hand from his balls all too soon but he didn’t have time to focus on the loss as she spoke. “What do you imagine, Baby?”

“Takin ya in every position, Love. Makin ya moan my name. Makin ya cum over and over again. Makin ya cream all over this cock. Cummin in that pussy, lettin ya know it’s mine. How tight yer pussy woul’ feel. Yer fuckin tits.” He moaned his eyes gazing down at what she was doing to him wanting to commit the sight to his memory.

It was the hottest thing he was sure he’d seen in a long while; her lube slick hand sliding over his cock, pre cum desperately seeping from his redened tip, her nails that soft pink, her hands so delicate wrapped around his thick length.

She spoke, reaching out with the hand that wasn’t occupied placing it over one of his. She pressed his hand to her breast over the silk of her nightgown “These tits?”

He groaned at the action, his cock throbbing painfully. He massaged her breast over the silk of her nightgown, a moan spilling from him. “Aye, fuckin perfect breasts. Perfect handful. Stared at em too much when we firs met. Couldn’t wipe em from my brain.”

She smiled a soft moan leaving her at the words and the feel of his hand working her breast. No guy had ever managed to make pleasure course through her so rapidly just by touching her breast alone.

She was tempted to lower her nightgown and let him have all the more access, but held back stroking his cock more rapidly, the action making his resolve break his hips rocking.

She did nothing to stop him, allowing him to help her chase his orgasm. She spoke her voice soft and adoring. “Want to make you cum, Handsome. You deserve it. Such a sweet brave man, trying to protect me tonight, promising to keep me safe.”

He groaned, nodding his head frantically, the words spilling from him. “Gonna protect ya with my life, Hen. Always gonna be safe with me.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her voice sweet. “You’re going to be safe with me too, Filip.”

He groaned the words making his heart ache with adoration. She continued to stroke him, her lips pressing along his neck. “You made me feel so good tonight, Filip. Never had a man eat my pussy so well. Never had anyone make me cum from that alone.”

“Fuck, gotta treat ya how ya deserve.” He grunted the comment making his balls ache hinting that she would soon be successful in getting him to his end.

She spoke continuing to stroke him he chasing the sensation with rapid thrusts helping her please him. “Want to treat you how you deserve too, Handsome.”

He moaned as she nipped at his pulse point his balls throbbing pulling closer to his body the end so deliciously close.

He twisted the bedsheets in his hands unable to form any responses to her words he devolving into moans and groans as she continued to stroke him her lips and tongue soothing the nip to his neck.

He grunted his cock twitching his orgasm hitting him harder than he’d anticipated his head falling back his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head. He felt her name spill from his lips his accent growing thicker praises spilling from him as ropes of cum spilled from him coating her hand and his stomach. “Fuckin’ shite, oh, Hen. My Lass. Fuck, yes. Fuckin’ perfect, makin me cum. Wish it was in ya, fuck.”

She stroked him through his release a moan leaving her lips at the sight of him so lost in pleasure and the evidence of that pleasure spilling onto her hand.

He whined as he came down from his end the light stroke to his oversensitive cock too much.

She reluctantly pulled away he panting towards the ceiling his body shaking and damp with sweat.

He turned his head, meeting her gaze a groan leaving him as she brought her hand up to her lips, her tongue peeking out to taste the release coated along her skin she moaning at the salty taste of him.

He groaned at the action, his hand pulling her fingers from her lips, his lips pressing to hers.

He kissed her deeply, his hand pressing to the back of her head keeping her there. He reluctantly pulled away from her his voice drowsy. “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me if ya keep bein this perfect, Mo ghràidh.”

She giggled at the comment not helping but to tease him. “Good thing I have caskets downstairs huh?”

He rolled his eyes, his hand reaching down to her backside giving it a playful swat. She gasped, jumping slightly at the action. She spoke her voice a mix of scolding and playfulness. “Filip.”

“Don’ bury me yet, Love. Still got life in me.” He remarked his body feeling heavy and relaxed.

She shook her head giving his shoulder a playful nudge. “You better go clean up before you pass out. Buddy. I am not sleeping pressed to you if you’ve got dried Chibs juice on you.”

He snorted at the comment a huff leaving him. “Aye, things I do fer ya.”

She shook her head, reaching out to find a tissue to clean her own hand as she watched him pull from her bed.

She smirked lust washing over her as she admired his backside as he disappeared into the master bathroom shutting the door behind him.

She was pleased to find that his backside was just as much of a gorgeous sight sans clothing.

She relaxed against the bed tossing the tissue into the wastebasket by the bed satisfied her hand was clean enough.

Chibs cleaned himself up as thoroughly as he could, losing his undershirt as it hit him; he'd definitely spilled his release far enough to hit the article of clothing.

He left the room not ashamed to be completely nude not helping but to look forward to any hint of lust that might be on her features at the sight of him totally bare.

He was only somewhat disappointed to find her fast asleep as he reentered the bedroom. He felt a sense of comfort hit him at the sight hoping that she would find a more restful sleep than she had moments ago.

He found his boxers within the bed sliding them back on before he slid back into bed beside her.

He scooted close to her his arms wrapping around her torso, his head resting close to hers. He spoke a surprising statement leaving his lips as sleep began to sink in. “I love ya, Hen.”

He was too exhausted and far too satisfied with what they’d just done to consider the statement that had left him too hard.

His heart screamed though that he was certain of his words. He loved her.

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

Chibs rolled his eyes at the low whistle that left Juice’s lips at the clear love bites pressed into Chibs’ neck. Y/N had not been subtle about her choice in placement of hickies and he knew he had not entirely been subtle in his choices either.

Juice leaned in examining the darkened marks visible under the collar of Chibs’ black shirt and his kutte. “Y/N did that?”

“Ya shoul’ see her neck.” Chibs commented knowing he would not go into any greater detail than that.

He sat back at the bar satisfied enough with the little bit of bragging he’d done. He knew he’d never share any of the details about Y/N. He was quite sure she’d embalm him alive if he got too vocal about their bedroom activities. He figured he could get away with bragging about his own sexual prowess though. 

“If she didn’t scare the shit out of me, I’d ask if she has any sisters or cousins.” Juice commented Chibs smirking at the words as he sat back at the bar in the Sons’ clubhouse.

He spoke, raising a brow. “My lass scares ya? Sweet wee thing like her scares ya?”

“She told me where the blood goes in an embalming, dude. Shit is spooky,” Juice shuddered remembering the conversation that had happened at the fairground the night before.

Chibs smirked, eager to respond, making Juice shudder all the more. “Aye into the sewer.”

Juice groaned, shaking his head. “Shit, I do not want to be a fly on the wall in you twos private conversations.”

Chibs smirked all the more tempted to prod Juice all the more but held back as Jax Teller entered the clubhouse.

Chibs sighed pulling from the bar knowing a serious talk was needed between his vice pres. and he.

He spoke nodding his head. “Jackie Boy, can we talk?”

Jax nodded off towards his Chapel having the feeling Chibs wanted to talk about something that he didn’t want Juice’s ears lingering around to hear.

The Scot followed Jax into the room, the doors shutting behind them giving them a sense of privacy.  

They both sat at the reaper table in their usual spots, Chibs letting out a sigh knowing he had to jump into this right away. “Gunner ran into Y/N at the fairgrounds last night.”

“Shit, fucking asshole. How’s she doing?” Jax dared to ask his jaw tensing at the news. He’d been dreading this possibility the moment Y/N had become once again entangled with SAMCRO. 

Chibs shook his head, his fists clenching. “As alrigh’ as she can be. Fuckin terrified her seein him.”

Jax cringed at the comment he daring to speak. “I’m guessing this wasn’t just him being his usual shithead self in front of a woman. From your reaction, I’m guessing she filled you in on the background with him?”

“Aye.” Chibs snapped, taking a deep breath, his eyes crossing over the sign proudly displayed on the chapel wall. Brains Before Bullets.

Jax shook his head, a heavy sigh leaving him, he pulling a cigarette from his kutte pocket lighting it. “Shit was awful. They were this destructive force together. I tried my best to keep him away from her and to talk her out of being stuck to him…but you know how stubborn she is. She was even worse at nineteen.”

“She told me everything.” Chibs blurted out reaching into his own kutte pulling out a cigarette of his own.

Chibs spoke again gripping down onto his cigarette so tight it almost snapped in half. “He fuckin violated er more than once back then. Did ya fuckin know bout that?”

Jax grimaced, shaking his head. “I knew the sex was rough. Gunner loves to brag. If I’d known she…If I ever knew he forced himself on her, I swear I would have killed him.”

Chibs was tempted to say the words What about now? Would you kill him now? I would.

He kept the statement in not having a chance to say the words as Jax spoke. “Shit back then was a blur, Chibs. She was a mess…shit with her brother. I think she was in self destruction mode. She was so young…she loved her brother and he loved the hell out of her. He complained about how much she followed him around, but if anyone else said a word he’d beat their face in. The accident took him from her mentally at least. I felt like I owed it to her and him to let her work shit out. I enabled her. I’ll own up to that. I felt guilty. Ope and I are the ones who encouraged her brother to get that Harley, more me than Opie. After the accident, I blamed myself as much as she blamed me. In my own fucked up way I thought letting her work out her pain in the clubhouse was the right move. If I had been able to predict Gunner, then I would have told her to get the fuck out of my face that very first night she showed up blaming me for her brother’s accident.”

Chibs spoke, taking a long drag of his cigarette, the words harsh. “I want to fuckin kill Gunner. I know I can’t. Shite would bite me in the arse.”

Jax sighed nodding his head in agreement. A member of one charter murdering a member of another charter would likely result in a Mayhem vote towards the killer. 

If Chibs killed Gunner and it was found out, Chibs would most likely be killed in retaliation. 

Chibs spoke venting out loud talking more to himself than to Jax. “What kind of fuckin man am I if I let him live knowin he violated the woman I love? I don’ care how long ago it was or how fuckin determined she was to destroy herself. I know he hurt her and I know he’d do it again if he was given the chance.”

Jax widened his eyes not missing the word love.

He chose not to address it quick to speak trying to break Chibs out of his vocal inner dialogue. “Then we don’t let him ever be alone with her. Anytime he shows up in Charming, we’re going to make sure those two never cross paths…not without you or me around. The rest of SAMCRO will look out for her too. Her being a business association of the club protects her alone…you being with her guarantees it.”

Chibs let out a shaky breath, his words tense. “I can’t promise I won’t beat the shite out of him on sigh’ if he’s even in the same room with her Jackie. I see him an all I see is red. All I can think bout is him violatin’ her…He bruised her damn wrist at the fairground…if he was willin to do tha’ in public…If I didn’t know wha’ he did to her in private…I’d shudder at imagining it.”

He gazed down at the lit cigarette in his hand remembering his statement to her when she told him about Gunner. If he’d known her back then…he had not finished the sentence yet he knew what he’d say.

His heart screamed he would have protected her had he known her back then. She would have been cherished by him. He would have appreciated her and shown her how to channel her pain without harming herself. He would have fallen for her.

A more sensible part of him knew he was damaged by his past so thoroughly when he first arrived in Charming. That sensible part of his mind told him he would have been so lost in his own misery he might not have had it in him to take on hers. He would have been in no shape to play protector. Perhaps they would have destroyed one another due to their own fear and anguish. Perhaps they would have just used one another to avoid facing their misery. Perhaps they could have been toxic for one another.

His heart battled that thought though the over romantic organ insistent she would have been good for soothing his misery and he would have been good to her. He would have worshipped her making it known mistreatment of her would be met with violence against anyone who laid a finger on her. They would have not destroyed one another the way his mind insisted but instead would have healed each other.

Being by her side now felt so healing. He felt lighter than he’d felt in years. She didn’t make him feel like the dirty damaged outlaw. He felt like Filip who loved deeply and protected those he trusted.

Jax was fast to speak, providing reassurance. “If it comes down to that, you’ll have my support. I think you’ll be justified to knock him out for what happened at the fairground alone. You throwing any punch his way is going to be seen as you defending your ol’ lady.”

The comment about Y/N being his ol lady only brought a small sense of warmth to him, his anguish and rage towards Gunner casting a shadow over what should be such a delightful statement.

“Aye, I’ll defend her. I’d kill fer her Jax. I offered to kill the prick las’ nigh’ and ya know what she said?” Chibs blurted out, taking another drag from his cigarette.

He spoke again before Jax had a chance to reply. “She tol’ me that me killin him would bite me in the arse. She fuckin’ knew how that shite would go down with the club, without even havin to be told. She jus’ knew how our world works.I hate tha’ she’s righ’. She’s too damn clever…makes too much sense even when I’m pissed off.”

Jax shook his head fast to speak. “She’s always been clever.”

Chibs cringed knowing he needed to say the words. He wouldn’t be able to push it from his mind until he cleared the air. “She mentioned her past with ya.”

Jax cringed at the comment knowing that it the conversation was unavoidable. He’d known it would come up the second Chibs started to get close with the local undertaker.

Jax spoke knowing he had to lie it out on the table. “We had fun…when we weren’t arguing…which was most of the time. We argued about everything. I was a prick and she was mouthy. She was angry and I was nursing a broken heart. It wasn’t love, you don’t have to worry about that. We were a good distraction for each other. I never meant for it to go in that direction. At first I just wanted to let her vent about her brother. She seemed like she needed a friend or at least someone who let her talk without judging her.  I think we were both caught up in our own problems…our grief over her brother, our mixed feelings about our legacies, and other bullshit. We worked shit out on each other. The sex was good, but we weren’t committed to anything deeper than just fucking each other. I wasn’t looking to make her anything more than a friend who I occasionally hooked up with and she wasn’t looking to be my ol lady. I’m sure my mom would have loved her to be my ol lady…but I wasn’t interested. I’m still not. Trust me, brother. I know she’s yours. I have zero interest in pursuing anything with her and I know the feelings are mutual on her end.”

Chibs let out a shaky breath, his heart lifting at the words I know she’s yours.

He couldn’t ignore the possessive little voice that piped up in the back of his head. Yes she is.

Jax spoke again, a sigh leaving him. “She leaving Charming was what she needed. She was going to wind up dead if she stayed here…especially with Gunner. I worried about her getting so deep back into SAMCRO. She doing okay?”

“I’m takin care of her. I ain’ goin to let nothin happen to her.” Chibs insisted not wanting to spill his guts about her nightmares or the sense of guilt she felt over what she’d done for the club.

That was not his secret to share. Sharing that would be a betrayal of her trust in him. 

He spoke needing to say the words he knowing that what he'd said to her the night before as she slept was not just his orgasm talking. His heart screamed that he meant it. “I love her."

He cleared his throat he fast to speak again. "I'm crazy bout er, Jackie Boy. I will make sure she never has the need to leave Charming ever again.”

Jax nodded his head, Chibs almost certain he spotted a hint of relief in the younger man’s eyes.

He spoke a heavy sigh leaving him. “I know she’s not my biggest fan…but I do still care about her as a friend. I know she’s in good hands with you. I’ll do what I can to help you any way I can when it comes to Gunner.”

Chibs let out a sigh of relief nodding his head. “Aye, I appreciate that.”

He stared back up the sign on the chapel wall. Brains Before Bullets.

He knew just putting a bullet in Gunner’s skull was not the answer. 

He would have to be smarter than that. 

==============================================================

If anyone had told Y/N just a year ago that she would find herself walking arm and arm with a member of SAMCRO down Main Street, sharing a bag of candy, she might fear she had encountered someone who was quite delusional.

Here she was though walking with Chibs arm linked with hers a bag of chocolates in her hand they shared them as they strolled past shop windows.

Chibs spoke, popping a piece of candy into his mouth. “I use ta steal chocolates from the petrol station when I was a wee lad…that and dirty magazines when I firs realized jus how appealin lasses were.”

She chuckled at the comment, it taking her off guard. “You had sticky fingers?”

“Aye, Christ. If my poor Ma had known she’d have skinned me alive.” Chibs commented a chuckle leaving his lips.

“I imagine so, especially with the titty mags.” She remarked a shaking laugh spilling from his lips.

He spoke, shaking his head. “Aye woulda been drug down to the local Priest by my Ma. Woulda been given so many Hail Marys I woulda had to have been raised in a confession booth.”

She replied to this comment giving his hip a playful nudge as they walked. “So I’m taking it you weren’t a good Catholic boy?”

“I tried…I maybe lied a wee bit in confession sometimes though. Figured some shite is better off between me and God alone…Father Anderson didn’ need to be part of that conversation.” Chibs admitted knowing he probably was considered to be a poor catholic as an adult. He’d not been to confession since he’d lived in Belfast.

He spoke a small sigh leaving him. “My poor Ma…both er kids went astray. She was a good Catholic lass. Cait was less bad than me. She was a wee bit more obedient. Her son though…he’s all his Uncle Filip.”

“You have a nephew?” Y/N dared to ask not helping but to soak up every story Chibs told her about his immediate family though she’d always got the sense it brought up a hint of sorrow in him.

“Aye, Padriac. He adored me growin up. I used to visit Cait and him…make the trip out with some cash and we’d have a wee party, good food and drinks. His da…my sister’s ex, fuckin bastard was a wee bit too much like our Da. Cared more bout the bottle than his family until he disappeared. My Da was older than my Ma when they got together…too damn old to be messin round with a lass er age. My Ma was sweet as can be, loyal heart and tender. She was a saint. She was stern with me and Cait when we needed it but she had a soft soul. She put up with too much from my prick of a Da, and when he left no one missed him. He was a fuckin brute. We were glad to see him leave. Our Ma died a few years after Padriac was born…Cait and I were the only family each other had. After I patched into SAMBEL I visited more. Padriac  followed in my footsteps ya know? Prospected fer SAMBEL. Pretty sure he’s been patched in now. He’s bout twenty seven now. He was a teenager last I saw him but he was a handsome lad. Got those Telford genes, tall and dark headed. He’s got that Telford mischievous spirit. He’s a good lad. I love him to death and miss him more than ya know. Made me proud when I heard through the grapevine that he patched in to SAMBEL jus like me.” Chibs recalled, she not helping but to adore the fondness in his voice as he spoke about both his sister and his nephew.

She picked up on the comment about his father and his mother. She guessed that explained some of the sorrow that she sensed when he discussed his mother. 

She spoke not helping but to tease him. “So, from what I’m hearing…there’s a younger Telford out there? Crap, I could have gotten a younger model.”

He let out a huff giving her backside a swat not caring if they were in public a laugh leaving her along with a slight squeal.

She buried her face against his arm, a little embarrassed as her squeal caught the attention of a passing man.

Chibs smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist, his voice low, a hint of husk in his voice. “Ya weren’t complainin bout my age when I ate yer pussy the other nigh? Think ya were too busy cummin on my tongue to say much of anythin legible.”

She felt her cheeks flush all the darker as she gazed up at him, his lips pressing to hers he tasting like chocolate and a sense of adoration.

She spoke her voice soft as he pulled from the kiss. “Don’t have any complaints about the older model I got.”

She paused, unable to stop herself. “I have always liked antiques.”

He snorted at the comment, giving her backside another swat, choosing to keep his arm wrapped around her waist as they continued to make their way down main street.

They were unaware of the eyes watching them from within a nearby diner.

Agent June Stahl watched the Scottish Son and the mysterious young woman with avid interest. 

She’d not been expecting to spot a Son walking down Main Street when she stopped for a bite to eat the Charming Police Station feeling far too stuffy and Deputy Hale feeling far too suffocating.

She watched the pair studying them as they made it clear they did not shy away from PDA. It was an odd sight; the rough looking forty something year old biker and the young elegant looking woman wearing a black dress that could only be described as prim. 

She had a feeling judging by their interactions and the way the Scot was staring down at her with devotion that she was no croweater. She looked a little too polished to be a biker groupie. No, the way the Scotsman was staring at his companion screamed ol lady.

She spoke as her waitress refilled her cup of coffee. “Who is that young woman over there? The girl in the black dress across the street?”

The much older waitress who wore a name tag stating her name was Pearl rose a brow, she looking hesitant to speak up about anyone walking hand and hand with a member of SAMCRO.

Stahl resisted the urge to roll her eyes, having taken notice of the residents' hesitance to say much about SAMCRO. The MC had a hold on most of the residents of the town.

Pearl apparently decided her need to gossip was more tempting than the need to stay mum about SAMCRO. “That’s Y/N Y/L/N. She owns Y/L/N and Sons Funeral Home. Her dad died a few months back…in the fall. She inherited the family business. She was out of town for a while…she had a wild streak about a decade ago…got into a lot of trouble, gave her poor dad a time. She seems to have cleaned her act up though…not her taste in men it looks like, but she’s grown up a lot…she’s running the home, made it look real nice.”

Stahl raised a brow at the information. A funeral director who just happened to be walking down main street with a known criminal?

Stahl frowned, tempted to point out that this Y/N didn’t seem to have cleaned up her act too much if she was buddying up to a member of SAMCRO.

She held in the comment though making a mental note of this young woman.

If she had a wild streak there might be a police record there. Stahl was interested to find that she might just have another SAMCRO ol lady to look into. 

#chibs telford #sons of anarchy #chibs telford fanfiction #chibs sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #chibs #chibs telford smut #chibs x reader #chibs telford fanfic #chibs telford x reader #filip telford #death and the lady #chapter eleven

[screampied]

Imagine how much stamina jjk men has during sex, can you please make this a multi headcanon?😭😭

❛ RIDE IT LIKE YOU OWN IT! ❜

geto, toji, gojo, choso, sukuna. rating the jjk men stamina and how long they last.

warnings. mdni. fem! reader, multiple órgasms + rounds, dirty talk, praise, doggy, full nelson, daddy kink, unprotected s*x, pussydrunk men, breath play, squirting, breeding kink.

word count. 2.6k

☆ GOJO

without question, gojo could last for hours. many, many rounds. you’d be so drunk from his cock that by this point his moans start to grow even louder than yours.

“f-fuck, the way you fuck back against me,” he’d groan, his bottom lip pokes out before he’s got a mean grip on your hips. you’re just being drilled by this point from his dick, your head thwacking and hitting back and forth against the cushioned mattress. he’s so whiney, huffing and puffing as his eyes stared right at the mounds of your ass. you’d be slamming back into him, and your ears just ring from each individual spank he gives you. “how long ‘s been, baby—? gettin’ tired yet?”

“no,” you’d moan, and he’s buried balls deep, its like fatigue for him just wasn’t real. entirely nonexistent. gojo pivots his hips, rolling it against you while skimming his thumbs against your waist and you whine. “don’t s-stop.”

“wasn’t gonna,” he groans, and he feels the warmth of your feet wrap around his calves—you were speechless, mouth dangling open as he’s thrusting deep deep into you. “princess, y’know what you can do for me?” you swallow, feeling gojo lean in right up against your ass, one hand clinging onto your hip, another going between your legs. “play with yourself for me. remind me how much of a messy girl you are.”

“okay..” you’d whine, dragging a hand amidst your legs.

you wince at bit at the feeling of your thin panties sticking against you. gojo made you keep them on, lazily just pushing them towards the sides of your legs, all because he couldn’t wait. impatient.

whenever gojo would come home from day long missions, he’d give you bedroom eyes almost instantaneously. and you knew what that meant.

“s-satoru,” you’d babble, rubbing a few fingers against your clit, he’s got your head pressing into the mattress so good — small noises of surprised squeaks elicit from your throat. he made sure the arch you had was simply immaculate. your pussy continuously clenched around him, the girth of him easily stretching throughout your cunt. “fuckkk, fuck, right there.”

gojo gets off from your pleasure, and as he stares at your jerking body, he quickens his pace a bit more before uttering out a soft,

“oh…s-shittt,” and that’s when he feels you tighten up for a second. gojo’s breathing starts to pick up, thighs aching, and he knew exactly what was preparing to build up. “baby, fuck when…when you grip down on me like that ‘m gonna c-cum again.”

and he’s serious, deadly.

his base unremittingly whacks against your slick little entrance. your fingers were barely doing any sorts of stimulation because all the attention was going straight towards gojo’s mean rich thrusts. “damn, ya always jus’ milk me every—every fuckin’ time,” and as he spoke, he made sure to match his words with his hits against your cunt. “c-can’t stop ‘cause this pussy won’t let me.”

strands of spit trickled down the corners of your lips due to your mouth being open and you moaned, feeling gojo push you up—you’re matching his lewd rhythmic pace before he lets off a sharp gasp, dumping another load into you.

“g-god, you…you always know how to make a mess out of me,” he shudders, feeling every inch of his body grow staggeringly hot. such lengths of ropes — his cum fueled you up, it was sticky and you craved for more. gojo’s breathing was irregular, and yet he still wasn’t tired.

after all….he was the strongest.

so that meant, going again and again. even if that meant going all day, because one of gojo’s favorite things was to train your pussy, you.

☆ TOJI

his stamina would be equivalent to a horse. when toji fucks…he fucks.

“nah, don’t run now, y’er the one who’s been begging for me to give this pussy attention,” he’d gruff, and your tongue was just lolled all the way out — dragging and scraping against the fabric sheets of the bed.

toji treated you like a rag doll. you’d be pushed up against him, and he’s got you in full nelson. thick cock driving right into your cunt. you find your legs being all up in the air and you’re just whimpering frenetically.

“nasty girl. made me stop doin’ my sets jus’ to fuck ya. ‘oughta be ashamed of yourself,” and then you moan, feeling him pin his beefy arms around your neck to hold you gently in place. “got anythin’ to say? did all that talkin’ ‘n now y’er just radio silent. shame.”

“n-no,” you moaned, and you felt your knees buckle. toji’s fat cock buried deep against your walls, he hit everywhere, even the spots you didn’t even know existed. you were just dumbly bouncing on his lap — tongue stupidly rolled out with your breath hitching. “fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, daddy.”

“who?”

you grew sub substantially quiet, the only sounds running out of your mouth were your quiet shaky breaths.

toji’s got you in a firm safe headlock, softly bringing a hand to squeeze against your right tit, another toying against your slick entrance before he slyly murmurs against your ear, “aw. no back talk now? tell me what you jus’ called me, baby. or you won’t get to cum on me.”

chest heaving, you swallowed whatever pride you had left, shifting your hips a bit to feel how deep he was stuffed into you before you whined. “i-i called you daddy.”

“yeah you did,” he chuckles with a low rasp, sheer bass coating his tone entirely. you felt so small. he’s so strong, lifting you up and down to just buck and jolt on his fat cock—skin sharply ricocheting against his thigh each time you make directly contact.

“you don’t gotta be shy around me, doll,” he mutters, fingers softly curling around your neck. you were pressed up against his chest and toji slows you down with one hand attached to your hip.

another swiftly gets ahold of your chin before he slips a middle finger right into your mouth. he lowly guffaws, feeling you suck on it before replying, “i’ve always liked my women a little nasty for me.”

for a brief second, you were in the midst of catching your breath.

exhaling a low sigh against toji’s pecs that you laid on. he showcases a snarky grins, pressing a kiss against the left side of your neck. “oh come onnn, don’t tell me your legs gave out already,” and then he starts to rub against your clit again. you gasp, moaning before he also gives it a playful spank. “baby, it was only like what . . six rounds? damn, guess you really are a weakling.”

☆ SUKUNA

“…woman, you—you’re so foolish,” he groans, and the curse laid back with a clenched jaw, tightened pecs, and a left hand stuck against your left hip like glue. “keep fuckin’ me like that and ‘m gonna get you pregnant.”

“get me pregnant then,” you whine, leaning in to kiss him.

sukuna grunts, bringing the left temple of your ass a rough spank before he returns the kiss. he glides his tongue alongside yours, warm breath colliding with your own. your tongue slides near his fangs and he lets off a soft groan the more you grind your hips forward towards him in such a way.

after a while, he pulls back before staring at you. his hair was messy and ruffled.

beads of sheeny sweat race down the sides of his forehead before he breathes, “you’re so stupid,” and he traces both of his thumbs against your ass, watching your cunt swallow his thick inches wholeheartedly. “course you want that. you want me to fill you again, princess—?”

“yeah, that’s why i t-told you to get me pr—”

“watch your fuckin’ mouth, little girl,” sukuna chastised, kissing the fat of your ass with another spank. “don’t forget who you’re speakin’ to.”

just as you were about to roll your eyes, you gasp once he reaches a certain sensitive spot. shortly afterwards ; you whine from the incoming sting before you rock your hips at a much more hastened pace.

it’s probably been hours, and of course, sukuna had stamina for hours, days . . perhaps years, after all it is sukuna.

you’d be lucky that he didn’t break your pussy with his thick cock. just him easing his way inside of you, aligning himself gently just so it’d be easier that way—yet you still felt every ambrosial sweetened inch. “f-fuck ‘kuna,” you’d whimper, gradually slowing your hips down.

his jaw clenches again, and his eyes linger down to witness your hips, its rotating against him in such a sloppy slow way—you grind against his lap in response and it makes his head spin.

“d-damn,” he’d swallow, and that was probably the first time you’ve made sukuna stutter. your pussy gripped around him tightly, so much force that it made your ears ring and pop. “got so much cum to flood into your nasty cunt, better be grateful ‘n take every drop,” and then his voice pitches once he brings you closer towards his face with a cold grimacing glare. “wipe that fuckin’ smirk off your face.”

“make me.” you giggle, leaning in to kiss the left side of his lip.

yet you regret even saying that because within a blink of an eye — sukuna’s already got you flipped over on your stomach. he’s already preparing to jostle his hardened dick right back into you where it belongs. “i’ll fuckin’ make you,” and then he kisses his teeth, watching you teasingly wriggle your ass from excitement before growing quiet once he finished his words. “let’s see you take both of my cocks since you wanna be all big ‘n bad, whore.”

☆ GETO

his stamina comes out of nowhere . .

you’d end up teasing geto a bit too much and he just takes it out on your pussy. until the room’s entire smell is filled with nothing but a sweetened mixture of your natural scent of his lavished cologne scent that went against your nose each time.

“fuckkk, we gotta work on this arch of yours, baby,” geto chuckles.

you’re on all fours, staring at how dumb you look in the reflection of the mirror.

geto’s propped up behind you with the smuggest grin on his face, watching your body practically go limp—you moaned, feeling each ridge and edge of his cock prod against the insides of your pussy. he studies the curve of your ass with a toothy grin before using one hand to caress your hip, guiding you with the suaveness of his voice. “bend all the way back for me, yeahhh.”

his voice went so low, it made you throb. geto could do doggystyle on you for hours on end. until his legs would cramp up — but even then, he’d be too pussy drunk to halt. just a few seconds insides your gummy walls, he might as well be living in there at that point.

“s-suguruuu,” you’d moan, the thin sheets of fabric shocking against your perky nipples.

“don’t suguruuu me unless you’re about to cum, princess,” he whispers. his voice was soothing, yet so dirty. whenever he spoke to you like that, in such sass, it never failed to make you throb. he knew how to get under your skin each time and you hated it.

but at the same time . . it turned you on, and geto of all people knew that. he’s so deep, pumping you full of inches to where you’re just inanely bouncing against the spring mattress. “and you’re not about to cum yet, are ya?”

“n-no,” you’d whine, and he smiles at the subtle faint frustration in your tone. by this point, geto’s doggystyle turned into prone bone. he’s all up and pressed against your ass. such ruthless vigorous thrusts against you, you’re drooling for more of his bulky girth, more of his inches.

geto mocks the disappointed pout you had, and you saw through the mirrored reflection. he was such a tease. “exactly, baby” he purrs before giving the back of your tank top a slight tug—you bump up against him and the very tip of his cock kisses your g-spot. you moaned loudly at the feeling of how snuggly fit inside before you feel geto spill a thick load right into your pussy. “f-fuck, but i am..”

☆ CHOSO

with choso, it’s safe to say you probably wouldn’t be walking in the morning.

he’s sweet and gentle, yet once you whine to him how you want him to be a little bit more rough for once — he complied almost immediately.

“okay, okay,” he sibilates through gritted teeth, and choso would gently pick you up, in preparation to fuck you that way. he’s sweet and tender, choso realigns himself before your arms sling around his neck and he grunts hearing the squelching ‘pop’ your pussy hummed. “don’t look at me like that, ‘m trying..”

you giggle, cupping his face to kiss the top of his nose and instantly. choso’s face grows flustered. yet his entire demeanor changed once he was balls deep, fucking you while standing up as if he wasn’t just so timid and apprehensive a literal moment ago.

“oh my goddd,” you’d whine, feeling big hands of his rub against your waist. his touch was so gingerly, grazing down your spine with a few simple fingers. his dick went deep—you panted, and choso’s ears heat up once he heard your moans directly next to his ear. “riiight there, choso. f-fuck me there.”

“praise me m-more, princess,” he mewls, his head throws back as he holds you up. you clamp down on him so good. strings of your own slick and droplets of his cum from previous rounds going against his base . . choso’s struggling to keep his eyes open. “fuckin’ sloppy, so—good,” he huffs, and you’re just slamming back down against him in the process. “tell me how good ‘m doin’ for you, please.”

as you bounced against him, your breath hitched before you snuck a kiss against his lips. “you’re doing great, baby.”

“—yeah?” he pouts. you were so warm inside, it made his head swell. choso was so lenient yet so needy for more of your praises. he’d eat them up every time. just hearing you whisper in that sweet soft voice of yours that he was making you feel good. he didn’t care if he finished - he cared whether you finished, and that was more than enough to satisfy him.

“yeah.” you reply, and he finally returns the kiss, its more sloppy than usual. his tongue breezily brushes against yours, he moans right into your mouth before he feels himself starting to bottom out.

choso’s so vocal, letting off such the sluttiest moans and whimpers into your mouth—you remain with your arms wrapped around him, jerking up and down against him as he’s got you. “f-fuck,” he’d gasp, feeling his thighs ache before he shifts his heels a bit. a few steps and you’re pinned right up against the wall.

shaky legs of yours snake around his waist before he hears you let off the most candied moan, more so… an orgasm. he didn’t even know you were close, and yet he looks down once he feels your entrance soak all over him.

choso pants, still carrying you before murmuring in a hoarse reticent voice, “d-did you just squirt?”

you’re in the middle of catching your breath before your bottom lip quivers. useless legs dangling alongside his waist before you huff out a shaky breath. “y-yes.”

“oh,” he murmurs before staring into your eyes, “can you do it again?” he pouts, and he’s still buried to the hilt inside of you—you let off a soft noise once choso brings you close to his chest, licking against your ear before whining off a needy, “…please?”

#★vegasbaby. #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #toji smut #jjk smut #geto smut #sukuna smut #gojo smut #choso smut #gojo x reader #toji x reader #geto x reader #sukuna x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #choso x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk x you #jjk headcanons #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #satoru gojo x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #female reader #anime smut #tw sex

[belovedmusings]

Am I Playing All Right Now?

Kento Nanami x You

Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Kento Nanami has been your respectful, loving boyfriend for two months now. All you’ve done so far is kiss, and you want more with him. He refuses for your sake, warning of his roughness. So, you take matters into your own hands and convince him to put in ‘just the tip’. 

Relevant tags: just the tip challenge, dom! Kento Nanami, clothed sex, couch sex, clit slapping, brief use of leather belt, hard and rough sex, doggy-style, hair pulling, manhandling, big dick-Nanami <3, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, creampie, I don't use "y/n" for immersion

Music recommended while reading: Dollhouse (The Weekend, Lily Rose Depp, …baby one more time (The Marias), Like U (Rosenfeld)

A/N: this is filthy and I love it, my first Nanami piece <3 enjoy!! (Read on Ao3 if you prefer!)

Read below cut:

The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks. 

You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–

He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–

“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners. 

“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”

His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”

Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”

He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”

“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”

“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”

“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”

That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”

It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”

“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”

The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”

“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”

“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”

He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”

“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”

“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.

Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”

He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.

“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained. 

“Maybe I want dangerous.”

He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him. 

He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.

Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Expensive?”

The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”

A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.

“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.

He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.

Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.

“Can I?”

Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.

Oh.

No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.

You nod.

“Words.”

Oh, damn.

“Yes, you can.”

“Good girl.”

You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.

“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.

“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.

Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”

A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”

“Yeah.”

Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.

“Still good?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your next breath is shaky. “More.”

He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.

“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”

“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”

“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”

He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing. 

You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.

“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”

“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”

You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.

What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?

Wait. Just a little bit.

“What about just the tip?”

His eyes narrow. “What?”

“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.

Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.

Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”

Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out. 

“Let me decide that.”

His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you. 

As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.

You want more. 

You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.

Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes. 

It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.

Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.

In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”

The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.

You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins. 

You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.

A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.

“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.

All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you. 

“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.

“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.

“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”

The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”

“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”

Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts. 

“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”

“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”

You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”

He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way. 

“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”

You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.

The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it. 

“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.

His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.

It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.

You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure. 

Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.

Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.

“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”

You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out. 

“Don’t do that again.”

The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”

“And what’s that?”

“I want to test your limits.”

__

A/N: here's my Nanami masterlist :) this is the first piece but lmk what else you want me to write for him! Hope you enjoyed.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk imagines #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #nanami fanart #nanami x you #nanami x y/n

[nanaslutt]

Body search gone wrong

ʚ ft: Officer Suguru Geto

ʚ cont: fem reader, public sex, fingering, handcuffs, inappropriate body search, implied alcohol consumption but reader is sober, dirty talk, degradation, praise, spanking, rough sex, dacraphillia, hair pulling

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

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

Your vision shook when your body was slammed down against the hood of your car, your hands held tightly behind your back. "Fuck!" You yelled, wincing at the dull pain and the freezing metal your body was pressed against. "I told you not to resist didn't I?" A deep voice rang out behind you. The officer's body heat bled through your clothes, warming you up a bit, a nice contrast from the freezing air. His knee planted between your spread legs kept you apart as the officer reached for his cuffs, the metal clinking together.

"I wasn't even fucking doing anything." You shot back, wiggling against his hold. The man's body was pressed harder against yours, the metal cuffs squeezing around your wrists. "I told you to stop resisting." You rolled your eyes. You tried to look at his face from over your shoulder, but it was already pitch black, and the light from his car behind you blinded you.

"Now you gonna answer my question? Huh?" The officer's hot breath tickled the back of your neck. When had he gotten so close? You wriggled your shoulders against the car, silently telling him to back off. "I was at a fucking party dipshit, why do you think I'm dressed like this?" You said, your words coming out harshly. 

The officer clicked his tongue, his lip curling at your attitude. "Such a disobedient girl. I don't think you're in a position to fight with me right now." The officer abruptly yanked you up, your dress threatening to roll up even further than it already has. He kept a hand between the two of you, gripping your wrist harshly to make sure you couldn't run. 

His other hand grabbed the bottom half of your face, and before you knew it, your head was being turned to the side so he could have a better look at you. You instantly sobered up, all of the anger leaving your body when you came face to face with him. His eyes were sharp and slanted, dark. His face looked like it had been hand sculpted by gods, and his long hair flowing out from under his work hat looked so soft, you wanted to reach out and touch it.

"Such a pretty face. How unfortunate it would've been if you'd died while drunk driving." The officer spat, clicking his tongue again. He shook his head at you, looking at you disapprovingly as he scanned your face. "I'm not even drunk, 's just late it all, had a long night." You retorted, avoiding his face as you felt a warmth spread through your body. 

"Oh yeah, I can see that." He responded, looking at you smugly. You could only stand in astonishment as his thumb wiped down the side of your lip, collecting the smeared lipstick that was smudged on your face. When he pulled his hand away you could see the maroon color of your lipstick on his thumb, making your face burn at his words insinuation. "You can't fool me, girl, you reek of alcohol." He added, letting you turn your head away from him again.

You stayed quiet, looking out into the dark forest around you. The officer took a moment to lean back unnoticeably and scan his eyes over the backside of your body, his eyebrows raised at what he saw. "You got any weapons on you?" He suddenly said, making your face scrunch in confusion. The dress you were wearing barely covered your body, the fabric probably too thin, where on earth would you be hiding a weapon?

"Oh yeah forgot to mention I'm strapped because I have sooo many places to hide a weapon on me right now." You retorted, snorting at his suggestion. "Oh, so you got jokes now?" He responded, "What changed? You were acting like you wanted to knock me out a couple of minutes ago." 

The officer's banter and casual talk with you made your veins pop out in your head in annoyance. Pretty privilege really did exist, because although he was right, you still wanted to kick him in the balls, you also wanted him to have his way with you in ways you probably shouldn't. 

You stayed silent, pressing your lips together firmly so as to not say something you would regret. "You done jokin' around now? That was fast." the officer responded before walking you forward into the car. Your knees hit the rubber of your tire, the man's body follows right behind yours, pressing firmly against you. You could feel every bump and ridge of the weapons on his belt against your back.

"Legs." He said, a little too quiet to sound demanding. You obeyed, spreading your legs to make room for him. The throbbing between your legs was much more intense now, there was no way he didn't know what he was doing. His knee pressing firmly between your own, centimeters from your cunt, made you swallow hard, your breath picking up.

Your wrist was released from his harsh grip, your arm instantly throbbing hot as blood flowed back into that area. His hands started at your sides, just under your arms. You thought officers were supposed to use the back of their hands when they searched someone, but you must've been mistaken because officer whoever he was was groping your body with his palms.

His large palms slid under your tits before sliding down to your stomach, pressing firmly against you. "You body search everyone like this?" You asked, leaning your body back slightly against him. "Or just drunk girls?" He didn't seem to like your insinuation as you were slammed back down against the hood of your car, his hand on your lower back. "Thought you weren't drunk?" He responded, his hand slowly sliding down your back, almost teasingly.

You bit your lip, hoping he couldn't see your face from here in the darkness. His hands grabbed your hips before rubbing down your bare thighs. Your knees threatened to buckle, his touch was so warm. The officer got down on his knees and felt your legs, your legs only clan in a tight pair of thigh-high socks with small black heels resting against your feet. It was obvious you weren't hiding a weapon there. 

Geto circled your ankle with his hand before grabbing the bottom of your shoe with another hand, pulling your foot out as if he were checking your shoe. You pointed your foot at him before rolling it around dramatically. "Pervert." You whispered under your breath, a word you thought he wouldn't hear. Looking up, he had a perfect view of your panties from under your tiny party dress, the black lace panties barely covering anything.

Giving your foot one last rub, he placed your heel back on your foot before raising to his feet again, his hips connecting with your ass once more. "Did you find what you were looking for, officer?" You said, trying to look back at him, wiggling your hips against him as you spoke. "I haven't finished checking everywhere." He replied with a hint of mischievousness laced in his voice, making you raise your eyebrows in confusion.

Suddenly, your bare ass was exposed to the cold air around you, sending a wave of chills over your body. "Might be hiding something here. Can't take any chances." Geto spoke, a smile creeping on his face when your knees pressed together, your hips wiggling more impatiently back against him. "You're right, I could be dangerous." You teased, smiling as you pulled your lip between your teeth.

The cold you once felt against your skin was replaced by two large hands, grabbing and massaging the fat of your ass. You made a noise of surprise at his rough handling of your body. Your breathing picked up, his thumbs massaging so close to where you desperately needed to feel him. You would absolutely be telling this story to your girlfriends when you got outta this mess.

"Do I have your permission to search you down here?" The officer asked the sudden ask for your go-ahead catching you a little off guard after how much he's already done, not like you minded. "If I say no are you gonna let me go officer?" you teased, arching your back against him. Geto pressed his lips together and looked down at you rubbing yourself against his bulge. He wondered if you knew what you were feeling was his cock or if you thought it was some weapon on his holster.

Your back was enveloped with a sudden warmth, making you release a few aroused hums through your breathing as you felt Geto's breath tickle against your neck. "Yeah, I'll stop... but I don't think you want that, do you?" He asked, biting your earlobe between your teeth. You had forgotten how things got to this point, but you were far from complaining. 

"No sir..." You replied, voice all breathy and full of need. "I know." He replied, his hand reaching under your body to rub his fingers firmly against your clit. Your jaw opened against the car in a silent moan, an action Geto mimicked. "You're soaked." Geto groaned against your ear, his cock throbbing in his pants. You only moaned in reply, your eyes rolling back in your head as his thick fingers rubbed expertly against your little bud, your wetness seeping through the fabric and onto his fingers.

"Fuck... officer..." You whined, wiggling against him, your hands pulling against the cuffs. "Suguru." He replied, kissing right under your ear, "Call me Suguru sweet thing." You nodded before releasing a sweet moan of his name, a sound that was greatly appreciated and swiftly rewarded by him pulling your panties to the side. His hot fingers against your bare clit with nothing between made you press your thighs together. 

"You like that pretty?" He whispered, his deep voice sending pangs of arousal to your cunt. "Uh-huh." You nodded, trying to look at his face through your fuzzy eyes. "You want 'em inside you?" He asked, teasing you by rubbing his fingers down to your entrance, only rubbing circles around the hole there. You nodded quickly, tears nearly forming in your eyes. "P-please Suguru... please."

"Look at me." He responded, his voice calm but breathy. You did as he said as he brought his head to the side of your face, reducing the strain on your eyes. His gorgeous face came into view as a shadow blocked it from the light of his car. "That's it, keep looking at me." He nodded, licking his lips as he rubbed delicious circles against your tight hole. Your eyes fluttered as you fought them from rolling back in your head, not wanting to miss a single thing.

Suguru's jaw fell open ever so slightly as he started pressing a single finger against your wet opening. He groaned with you as your pussy greedily swallowed up his finger, your tight walls squeezing around him at the intrusion. "Oh fuck, it's so warm." He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing together. You finally let your eyes roll back in your head before they fluttered shut at the pleasure.

Geto slowly thrust his finger in and out of you a few times before he pulled it almost completely out and added a second finger. Your cunt welcomed the stretch, your wetness spilling out around them. Geto rutted his hips needily against your ass, trying to bring his dripping cock some relief as he dealt with how tight and hot you felt around his fingers.

"Move your hips, fuck that ass back against me baby. Take what you need." He groaned, standing back up and keeping a hand on your lower back. He pushed your dress higher up your body, exposing the mid of your back while he finger fucked you. Now that he was standing, the base of his fingers and palm were pressing against your clit, making you see starts as you did your best to move your hips against him.

You whined when he curled his fingers, matching your slow pace. "Please... please faster Suguru please-" You gasped, your legs shaking at such a small amount of pleasure already. He clicked his tongue against his teeth and smiled while shaking his head. "You can't even follow simple instructions, can you? Dumb girl." With those words Suguru's left a harsh smack against your bare ass, making you yelp before he places his hand next to your body on the car and started pistoning his fingers in and out of you.

"Yeah- yeah fuck- just like that-" You cried shamelessly, your hands clenching and unclenching in your restraints. "You like it rough? Huh?" Suguru groaned, feeling himself leak pre-cum against his boxers hearing the loud squelching emant from between your legs. "Yeahh- yeah I love it-" You cried, nodding while you whined through your teeth, your hips wiggling and bouncing back against him on their own.

"You're so filthy y'know that?" He groaned, curling his fingers against your g-spot each time he thrust his fingers inside, making your brain short-circuit. "S-says the cop fucking a g-girl he pulled over for drunk driving," You responded, giggling through your moans. Suguru returned a short laugh, his eyebrows raising at your words. "I'm not even fucking you." He replied. "You want me to? My fingers not enough for you?" Geto teased.

You bit your lip and sucked a breath in through your teeth, feeling your orgasm steadily approaching. "M-make me cum like this first, a-almost there." You begged, your eyebrows pinching together. Geto laughed, shaking his head at your shamelessness. "Only because I'm feeling nice." He replied, curling his fingers harder against you.

He did his best to rub his palm against your clit in a way that stimulated it just right, making your walls tighten as you got closer and closer to your high. "Fuck- right there oh- ohmygod right there-" You cried, your legs starting to shake, your body jerking and twitching against the car. "Yeah... cum all over my fingers so I can fuck you over the hood of this car." He groaned, pulling his lips between his teeth as he watched you shake and writhe for him.

Your moans got quiet and your jaw fell open in a silent scream as you came all over his fingers, your walls squeezing tightly against them, making it hard for him to move. "Good girllll, good fucking girl." He praised, rutting his hips against your ass as your body jerked and shook against him. Your legs threatened to give out from under you, but you knew even if they did, he would catch you.

Geto pulled his fingers out from your wetness, leaving you to catch your breath and recover from your orgasm. His warm hand patted softly against your ass before it retracted and you heard a clinking sound followed by a zipper.

You tried to turn your head enough to look at what he was doing but your head was shoved back against the cold metal of the car by his large hand. You could hear the squelches from behind you as Geto jerked himself off over your ass, his cock occasionally tapping your ass as he stroked himself. "Don't look, don't want you to get scared and run away now." He said, a smile on his face that you couldn't see. 

His words made you swallow hard, was he really that big? So big he was afraid you would tap out? "Just p-put it in already." You begged, pretending to be confident about taking his size as you wiggled your hips back agaisnt him. "You sure are eager huh? You must really not want a DUI on your record." He teased before running his hand down your shoulder blades, over your arms, and pressing against your lower back.

"It's not that." You said, your voice breathy and full of lust. "You're the hottest cop I've ever seen, wanted to fuck you from the moment I saw your face." You smiled, your eyes barely catching him from out of your peripherals. You gasped when you felt his blunt head press against your cunt. He rubbed his tip against you, getting ready to push it in. "Such a sweetheart," Geto replied before you felt the burn of his cock stretching you open.

Your hands balled into fists, your arms jerking against the cuffs as your walls were forced to make room for his cock. A tear immediately welled up in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling. It wasn't all painful, it was just so much, he was filling you up completely. "Good girl, just relax and take it... there you go..." Suguru soothed, his eyes raking up your body as he fully penetrated you with his cock, his hand staying against your lower back.

"Holy ffffuck-" You gasped, fighting to catch your breath as he stilled inside you, giving you a second to adjust to his length. It felt like he was in your stomach, you couldn't imagine how it was going to feel when he actually started fucking you. "It's big huh? You feel it all the way in there? Stretchin' you open?" Geto teased, his thumb wiping the tear from your face before he brought it up to his mouth and licked it off.

"S-suguru- I-its so much, s-so deep-" You cried, being able to do nothing but whine and cry while his heavy cock rested inside you. He smiled before leaning his chest over your body and kissing your cheek, his lips eagerly catching any stray tears that fell. "I know, but you're gonna take it aren't you? Gonna take it even when I cum isn't that right?" He groaned against the side of your face, his hot breath tickling you, making goosebumps arise down your spine.

Geto slowly pulled his hips out of you before thrusting them back inside, fighting the urge to whine like a bitch at how good your pussy felt. "I asked you a question," Geto repeated, biting your earlobe as he continued slowly thrusting in and out of you, pulling as much of his cock out of you as he could before thrusting it back inside, making sure you were feeling it nice and deep.

You cried out before nodding, your moans broken and whiney from just a few thrusts. "Cos you're a good girl, just a good little cockhungry slut." He whispered, picking up his thrusts, his own words riling him up. You nodded, hardly even registering his words as he spoke. His cock was rubbing agaisnt your g-spot so perfectly, it was making you dumb. Combined with his balls slapping against your sensitive clit after each thrust, you were slowly becoming cock drunk. 

"God this pussy is so tight... can barely move." Geto groaned, his eyes fluttering in their sockets before he fucked against you harshly, making his tip fuck right into your sweet spot. The moan you released made his balls throb, it was so desperate and feral.

He leaned up off of your back once more, staring down at the place the two of you were connected. The fat of your ass rippled each time he fucked his hips against yours, making a dopey grin spread across his face. Your juices were already getting all over his work pants. Anyone with half a brain would know what that was if they saw it in the light. "You're so sloppy, such a messy pussy." Suguru groaned, landing a mean slap across your ass that echoed into the woods before he pulled his hips back and fucked you harder, finding a quicker pace.

"O-oh fuck Suguru- It's so deep holy shit-" You cried, more tears spilling from your eyes. You felt a hand grab the back of your head and nails scratch at your scalp and before you knew it you were being forced to stand your full weight on the ground as your back arched meanly into him. Suguru released a long groan, his cock getting constricted even more in this new position.

Moan after moan was fucked from your lips each time he brought his hips against your ass. Loud and vulgar squelching noises cried from between your legs as more wetness drenched his cock and pants. Your scalp burned from where he was gripping you, but it felt good nonetheless. 

"Feels 's good Suguru, fucking me s' good-" you cried, hot tears seemingly neverending spilling down your cheeks. You were sure to have red, puffy eyes after this. "Yeah? You like my cock baby?" Geto groaned at the praise, his cock throbbing in tandem. You nodded before crying again. "L-love it s-so much, 's gonna make me cum, you're gonna make me cum~" You whined, your legs shaking violently now.

Geto wrapped his hand around your thigh, taking some of the weight off your legs, his other releasing your hair and wrapping firmly around your torso, keeping you firmly against him, your cuffed hands getting squished between your bodies. "Me too pretty, g-gonna make me cum too." He replied, his face flushed from your praise. His balls twitched and throbbed with the need to spill his seed, but he had to make you cum first.

Geto used the hand he was previously using to hold your thigh to rub small circles against your clit. Your body jolted forward and forced you and Geto against the car again, your bodies firmly together as he kept rubbing your clit, trying to work you through it. "Cum for me baby, cum for me so I can fill you up." His words made you feel hot all over. The promise of getting filled up by him made you squeeze his cock harder, your eyes fluttering shut as he pushed you over the edge.

Your body convulsed violently as you came. Geto buried his head in the crook of your neck, his jaw clenching together as you came on him, his cock getting constricted. He couldn't even speak enough to tell you he was cumming, or even praise you for doing so before his balls were throbbing and he was chasing after you, releasing his seed deep into your cunt.

You both groaned at the feeling. It was so warm, you felt so full. It must've been a long time since he came because his orgasm seemed to go on forever. His hand stilled on your clit as his body jerked against yours, his abs clenching under his shirt. He only relaxed when his cock stopped kicking and he was sure he had hummed each rope of his cum inside you, making sure you were stuffed full. 

Despite how deep he came inside you, when he pulled his cock out his cum still chased him, spilling out of your cunt. He quickly stopped any more from getting out by situating your now ruined panties back into place, keeping you full of him. Geto pressed a kiss to your nape before he leaned up and tucked his cock into his pants. Undoing his belt quickly, he retrieved the key to the cuffs and set you free.

"Easy." He whispered, helping you sit up and face him. You rubbed your wrists, now red and irritated from the hard metal. "You just looked so pretty all restrained, didn't wanna take them off." Geto half apologized before scooping you up in his arms and placing you down on the hood of the car, relieving the stress on your legs. You were still dazed and a bit fucked out, but his words made you smile.

"Plus I could'a been dangerous, right?" You teased, playing with his belt. He returned your smile, placing his hands on the side of the car next to you, his face inches from yours. "You coulda been dangerous." He responded, dipping his head in your neck for a kiss before he pulled away. "Let me take you home. I'll have someone bring your car to you in the morning, you're in no state to drive right now." He said, stepping back and holding his hands out for you, helping you off the car slowly.

You raised your eyebrows, catching yourself from stumbling as you stood on your incredibly shaky legs. "Wow, you're so nice officer." You teased, poking his chest before you started walking in front of him. Geto smirked before following you, keeping his hand wrapped on your lower back in case you fell as he walked you over to the passenger side of his car. "It's my duty to keep the public safe." He said with a wink before he lifted you into the passenger seat. 

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