#i like my shading on it and on her stomach

[fioiswriting]

Muña | one shot

Summary : Marrying your bastard nephew to mend fences between your families wasn't exactly what you had planned. But when you realise that Jace has grown into a strong and handsome man, you might be ready to rethink your plans.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Reader (Reader is Alicent and Visery’s daughter. She’s one year younger than Aegon)

TW : p in v sex, mommy kink, sub!Jace (kinda), Dom!Reader (but they both switch tbh), inappropriate use of the word muña, oral (f receiving), afab reader, incest, unprotected sex, not proofread

Words count : 8064

AN : hi everyone!! I’ve been very busy lately so I haven't had time to update BUT I’ve been working a bit on various fics. Sorry to all my Aemond girlies but today it’s time for some Jace x reader. It’s a fic I’ve written for my gf who’s turning into a Jace girlie 🤭 It's full of indecency and inappropriate things.

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

Enjoy 🖤

The gardens had become your refuge over the past few days. Under the shade of the trees, on the soft grass, you had found a peaceful haven away from the excitement caused by the arrival of your half-sister and her herd of bastards. The Red Keep made you feel suffocated. And seeing your mother pacing back and forth, running left and right, didn't help. You had to calm her down. You had to keep an eye on your older brother, making sure he didn't slip away into the maze of Flea Bottom for the umpteenth time. You had to hold your family together, and you were tired. 

You almost envied Daeron, in Old Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the court.

At least no one would think of looking for you where you were now. And you could enjoy a moment's respite, poring over the thick book you had borrowed from Aemond's library. Had he known that you had entered his room without warning, had he known that you had dared to disturb the perfect tidiness of his precious bookshelves, he would probably have threatened to feed you to Vhagar. But what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, you could perhaps find a way to pay him back later. 

For now, you just needed to be left alone.

You stretched out, arms reaching for the sky. The sun's rays crept through the leaves, their warmth leaving a pleasant sensation on your face. Summer was back and you were delighted. The gentle breeze that ruffled the corners of your book and occasionally lifted the silver curls around your face gave you a sense of freedom. You deftly kicked off your shoes and lay back for a moment, your eyes closed.

Footsteps echoed on the cobbled floor, and you sighed in annoyance. You didn't have to open your eyes to see who it was. You recognised his footsteps. So, you kept your eyes closed. With any luck, he would continue his way and leave you alone to find someone else to annoy.

"Hey, my favourite little sister," Aegon exclaimed as he landed heavily beside you, his body brushing against yours. You opened one eye to acknowledge him, then closed it again, your arms crossed behind your head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" he insisted when he saw you weren't answering him. "You know, make sure I don't run off or end up drunk somewhere…Stuff like that. Which our mother probably asked you to do."

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was true that Aegon was terribly annoying. But of all your siblings, Aegon was still your favourite.

You resigned yourself to rolling onto your stomach, your chin resting on your hands and your head tilted sideways to face him.  "My dear brother," you replied sarcastically. "Unable to occupy yourself, as usual."  He rolled his eyes before reaching out to remove a leaf that had gotten caught in your hair. He subtly ran his fingers through one of your curls, his touch as light as a feather. "And why have you decided to come and disturb my moment of peace, tell me?"

He blew the leaf away and you watched as it flew away on the breeze. Your big brother's eyes shone with mischief. "Why would I need a specific reason to spend time with my favourite sister?" he added, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. He moved to lie next to you, his body practically pressed against yours. 

If you moved a few centimetres, your elbows would touch his. 

You'd always been inseparable, and the habit had stuck over time, even when the teenage years had driven you apart. But in those moments, you were like two children again, ready to run away from Septa lessons to get into mischief in the castle.

“Because you always have a reason for everything,” you replied, and he looked at you with a fake hurt look that was greatly exaggerated. With Aegon it was easy. It had always been easy.  He wasn't as serious as Aemond, he wasn't as strange as Helena, and he wasn't as far away as Daeron.

"I just wanted to make sure my little sister was all ready to meet her betrothed tonight." He paused. "And also, that she hadn't suddenly decided to become a pious woman and follow the path of the Seven." His voice lowered. You poked him in the ribs. "See? I'm a caring big brother. I care about you."

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied. He laughed. Then he rolled onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bent, and he closed his eyes. The golden rays caught in his long lashes made him look like an angel. 

Everything he wasn't. 

'Well?' He added. “Excited to see Jacaerys Strong?”

You sat cross-legged. The bracelets on your wrists clinkled. Aegon knew how much the idea horrified you. You had no desire to marry Jace, to sacrifice your freedom for your half-sister's bastard eldest son. You had no desire to leave the Red Keep, to follow him to Dragonstone and spend your life bearing him children. It was your mother and Rhaenyra's idea, of course.

The union of the eldest daughter of one and the eldest son of the other, as a way of repairing the rift that has grown between your families over time. 

As if you were destined to mend fences, to undo the mistakes of your own parents.

It wasn't that you hated Jace. But he was your older sister's son, a bastard who had pretensions he shouldn't have precisely because he was a bastard. He was the model son, the perfect son, the prodigy son, the one who always did everything right. It irritated you. He irritated you with his brown curls and his awkward posture.

 It wasn't fair that your father showered him with praise when he could barely remember your own name.

You stood up, smoothing the folds of your red dress to make yourself more presentable, and you caught your brother's eyes on your body, his eyes riveted on the thin fabric that revealed your delicate shapes. God, you loved to play with that. You knew how to get men wrapped around your finger with your sweet, innocent air, and Aegon was the first victim. You approached him and held out your arm to help him up, which he accepted by pulling himself to his feet heavily. After putting your shoes back on, you bent down to pick up the thick book in your arms. If you lost it, you could be sure that Aemond would be angry with you. And that was a risk you didn't want to take.

 "Perhaps you're right, lēkia. I'd better go and make myself more presentable for my betrothed. I wouldn't wish to disgrace our family." And with that you turned back, your hair swirling in the air behind you as Aegon watched you go with a small smile on his face. 

You knew how much Aegon hated being ignored, and even more so when it came from his little sister. You knew that he would return with his tail between his legs and a pleading look on his face. Between his constant whining and his dirty jokes, he gave you little respite, but it was a game that had developed between you; a game that, deep down, you enjoyed.

He was so predictable. 

“If I had known you liked strong men, I would have dyed my hair,” you heard him shout from behind you. Aegon wasn't the least bit shy. You shook your head, your silver locks bouncing.

"Get lost, you moron," you replied without even turning around.

The meal in honour of your betrothal promised to be exciting.

*** 

As soon as he saw you, your nephew rose to pull the chair beside him in a gallant gesture, and you found yourself watching him. Really watching him. His long, broad fingers on the back of the chair. His dark locks falling around his face. His precise features; his straight nose and deep eyes and square jaw. You hadn't realised how much your nephew had changed. He'd grown up too, and he was now a good head taller than you. 

He had become a strong man, indeed.

But you refused to admit that Jacaerys Strong had become quite pleasant to look at.

"Princess," he said, pushing the chair back for you to sit down. Fingers brushed the skin of your partly bare shoulders. The touch had lasted a fraction of a second, enough to make you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination. 

"Lord Strong," you replied in greeting. If the words hurt him, Jace didn't show it. Always the perfect son. What would it take to push him over the edge? To crack the shell he'd built around himself? To shatter the image of the gentleman?

To your right, Aegon was already seated. He was holding a glass of wine between his fingers while Aemond seemed to be lecturing him about something you couldn't understand. The exchange between you and Jace had obviously not escaped his notice, and the corner of his mouth had already curled into a smirk. You knew what it meant. 

His silence was full of implications, louder than any words. 

Your mother had lectured him before dinner, warned him to behave because that was what was expected of him, and she was counting on you to make him obey. 

But your older brother didn't say anything. He simply raised his glass in your direction, his lips forming a word that you couldn't read. You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed.

You looked at your nephew. He had donned a gambison in the colours of the Velaryons, and you couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. 

After all, a bastard in blue was still a bastard.

"Enjoying King's Landing?" you asked your betrothed, in an attempt to start a conversation. His attention turned to you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. 

“It's quite different from what I remember,” he replied, his voice a little lower than usual, his warm eyes meeting yours. “But of course it all depends on the company you are with."

You hesitated, suddenly unsure.

You hated what the sound of his voice did to you. You hated the way his eyes suddenly made you feel vulnerable. 

Fuck.

“It all depends on the company, indeed. And do you find yourself in good company tonight, nephew?" You gave him a defiant look, as if to judge his reaction. 

As if to unveil what he held within himself. 

“I'm not quite sure. Should I?” He paused, one eyebrow raised. He had taken the bait. “What would yousay?”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't the malice you usually found in Aegon's eyes when he wanted to tease you. It wasn't the gleam that animated his mind when he came up with a new plan for you to cover. 

"I would say I'm in pretty strong company," you replied as you took your cup, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of your lips that you hid behind the glass. 

You were cruel, giving him no respite, you knew. But you admired his composure. He hadn't cracked yet. 

You knew men who were less patient.

Jace leaned towards you. A slight tilt of the head, just to make sure you were the only one to hear him. As if he wanted to share a secret with you. “Careful, Aunt,” he began, his voice suddenly quieter than before. It was almost a whisper. “I might begin to think you enjoy my company.”

You know I don't, you wanted to reply, but Jace had already straightened up as if nothing had happened, his head turned away from you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Baela give him a questioning look, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of your stomach. 

An unpleasant heat. 

A hint of irritation.

You were annoyed, and you didn't know why.

“Look how handsome your betrothed has made himself for you,” Aegon sneered as he reached for the decanter and leaned in close to your ear. “A true Velaryon, isn't he?” He huffed.

You wanted to slap him on the thigh, make him swallow his mockery. 

“If you think he's so handsome, I can happily leave him to you,” you replied, and Aegon's eyes widened. You saw him take a sip of wine, and something deep inside you told you he probably wasn't opposed to the idea. His usual mischievous smile was hidden behind the wine glass, but there was no mistaking his eyes.

Aegon had that tendency to give himself away, and you could read him like an open book.

The meal proved to be as boring as you had imagined. Small talk exchanged over fake smiles. An illusory moment in which everything seemed to be going well for one evening.

You weren't fooled, and you knew it was all a facade. You knew your family well enough to understand that the slightest spark could set things alight. You knew your brothers well enough to realise that all it would take was a simple glance between them to liven up an evening they found dull.

You just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble tonight.

To your left, Jace was still deep in conversation with Baela. They had that kind of complicity that made your blood boil inside; a shared laugh that sounded in your ear like the squeaky music you hated. You frowned. It was you, his betrothed. It was you, not Baela, and you didn't understand why that statement was suddenly so important. 

After all, you despised this union. You hated Jace. You had no desire to promise him the rest of your life.

Jace was a bastard, and you deserved better.

So why did the sight of him touching Baela's hand cause a twinge of jealousy in your body?

His fingers brushed over hers absently. A light touch on her knuckles. 

And all you felt was fire.

And then. Then, your fingers slipped under the wooden table. 

You knew you were playing with fire. And you knew that if anyone paid too much attention to what you were doing, they would see that you weren't exactly behaving like the perfect Princess Targaryen you were supposed to be.

But you didn't care.

You let your fingers wander, running along the outside of Jace's thigh before moving up to settle in the hollow that connected his thigh to his hip. With a faint touch, your fingertips brushed the inside of his thigh, and then lower, tracing small circles through the fabric that was already beginning to tighten. 

Jace almost choked. 

He spat out the contents of his glass, his dark gaze fixed on you. Everyone had fallen silent, their heads turned towards him. Rhaenyra's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

And you hadn't removed your hand. 

An innocent smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You wondered if Aegon could read you. If he could see that look on your face, so similar to his own. That distinctive feature you shared. 

Deciding to play with your prey a little longer, you put on your best fake concerned face, pretending to be worried about his health.

"Are you all right, Jacaerys?" you asked, your voice a little higher than usual as your nails dug into the fabric of his breeches. Not to hurt him, of course. Just enough to wake a certain part of him, just enough to remind him that you were his betrothed.

He cleared his throat and coughed again.

“I swallowed wrong,” he replied. 

Your fingers crept a little higher, trying to explore his upper thigh, where you knew your nephew would be sensitive. You didn't want to be rational tonight, you wanted to let the fire take over and consume you. 

You wanted to let the sleeping dragon within you awaken.

The taste of the forbidden was divine, and the heat spreading through your lower belly was too delicious to stop now.

"Be careful, mandianna. We're not married yet." you said.  We're not married yet and look where I've got my fingers. You kept your thoughts to yourself. "I wouldn't want to find myself a widow already," you replied in High Valyrian, amused, and Jace looked at you with his big brown eyes, somewhere between anger and excitement, embarrassment and curiosity. 

Under the table, out of sight, your hand brushed the stretched fabric where you could read the confirmation of what he was feeling, the manifestation of his desire.

He was hard.

Perfect.

It was you who provoked this. 

He responded to your touch.

You felt a familiar breath on the back of your neck and realised Aegon was leaning against you again. He was pretending to serve you some of the vegetables that had just been brought in for the starter, taking the opportunity to whisper in your ear as he did so well. "Try to be more discreet, little sister," he chuckled softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper to make sure no one heard you. Discreetly, he nodded to where your hand still rested on your nephew's thigh. He tilted his head. "Rhaenyra is right in front of us. Do you think she can see what you're doing to her son under the table?"

He put on his best disinterested face. As if the words exchanged between you were nothing more than banalities. 

As if he weren't commenting on the indecent deeds you were doing under the table, unworthy of a girl of your rank.

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. You didn't want him drawing any more of your family's attention to you, especially when you hadn't finished playing.

Your big brother gave you a knowing wink, as if to promise you that your secret was safe with him.

And you decided to continue entertaining yourself with the new game you'd invented.

You were bold, and you decided that if Jace didn't already know it, he would find out soon enough.

*** 

It wasn't that Jace was disappointed with his betrothal. You were divine, and the dress you wore made you so regal that he couldn't keep his attention anywhere but on your body, on your cleavage so gracefully offered to his gaze.

It was precisely why he had turned to Baela, why he had tried to distract himself with their conversation, why he had desperately tried to find something else to hold on to.

Because you were making him lose his footing. And that was a feeling he hated.

No, Jace did not regret his betrothal. You were everything a man could want; you were beautiful, you were regal, you were clever, and above all, you were a Targaryen. A princess. The king's daughter.

The only problem was you were distant and elusive.

Jace remembered your pretensions and mockeries from his childhood. He remembered the little brat you were, following in your older brother's footsteps. He remembered a little girl with a strong temper, who knew what she wanted. He remembered the pranks, not just the ones he'd taken part in, like the Pink Dread, but the ones that had turned against him because of you and Aegon, too.

It was clear that the little girl you had once been, taller than him, with long silver curls and an air of self-assurance far too confident for her young age, had grown into a beautiful young woman. 

And that was something Jace hadn't considered.

He couldn't concentrate on his conversation with Baela, not when your fingers were digging through the linen of his breeches into the flesh of his thigh, as if to remind him to whom he had been promised.  

Your fingers, slender, light, burning against his inner thigh. 

He clenched his jaw.

All around him, the words and faces of the guests mingled in a swirl of sound and colour. Fuck.

Fuck.

His breeches were really becoming too tight.

You'd dared to do that. You'd dared to slip your fingers under the table, in front of everyone, and Jace didn't know whether to admire your audacity or wrap his fingers around your wrist and force you to take them off. 

Suddenly he felt hot, a familiar warmth spreading between his loins. 

He wasn't sure he could get up, not with his member pulsing between his thighs. 

Fuck. You weren't supposed to make him feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel such a desire for you when you weren't officially married.

This dinner was about officially declaring your betrothal, not consummating a union not yet pronounced.

He was trying to calm down. He tried to ground himself back into reality. Perhaps by staring intently at the contents of his plate he could ignore the sensation of your fingers rising dangerously high; the desperate need to finally have your fingers wrapped around his manhood.

His knees slammed into the table in a sudden movement.

Your fingers had just brushed the bulge that had formed between his thighs. 

And he needed more, infinitely more.

You couldn't have the cruelty to arouse such lust in him and then leave him like that. He would never forgive you.

"Stop that," he growled in your direction, low enough for no one else to hear. 

But you still had that damn innocent smile, that damn audacity to act as if nothing had happened. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, mandianna." Nephew. The sound of the High Valyrian rolling off your tongue sent a wave of heat between his legs. Seven hells, you were going to be the death of him. 

He wanted more. 

He needed more. 

More of your fingers around him, more of your tongue against his length, more of that innocent look on your face as you knelt before him, more of your tight cunt.

Jace was on the verge of losing it. You'd made him a slave to his own desire. You had closed your claws around him and he knew there was no turning back now.

“If you play with fire too much, you might get burned, muña," Jace retorted, leaning towards you, and he felt the imperceptible movement of your hand twitching at the threat. Aunt.

Despite his dwindling strength, King Viserys tried to make a speech about family, betrothal, and a whole host of other undoubtedly honourable values, but neither you nor Jace paid any attention. You were caught up in your own game.

Then Jace stood up, forcing you to remove your hand. 

You could see he was uncomfortable, for you knew where to look, for you knew what you had done. 

You knew he had a painful erection between his thighs, and it was all because of you.

But you could only admire your nephew's composure. 

“To my uncles, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. I have fond memories of our shared childhood.” His glass between his fingers, he raised it in the direction of his uncles, then turned to you. "And to my sweet and beautiful bride-to-be, who I'm sure will never cease to surprise me with her daring and surprising side. May our marriage be filled with joy and satisfaction".

The toasts continued, as did the meal. The servants had brought the rest of the dishes consisting of steaming meat and tasty garnishes. It was almost too joyous, almost too happy to be real. As if there was a threat lurking somewhere in the corner.

But Jace still had to teach you a lesson.

The music started, the sound of instruments filling the room. Jace apologised to Baela and walked over to his aunt. His other aunt. Your sister. 

And you felt the anger return; the same inner turmoil as before. 

Jace had held out his hand to Helaena and led her to dance a little further away. You immediately exchanged a questioning look with your brother, who had also stared at Jace in disbelief as he had walked away on your little sister's arm.

"So?" Aegon began. "It seems your betrothed didn't appreciate your little game?" You glared at him, but he just scoffed. "If he changes his mind... You know I like it." 

You wondered if you could do the same. You wondered if you could ask Aegon to dance and if Jace would feel the same bubbling inside him, the same jealousy coursing through his veins.

You hated that feeling. 

You shouldn't feel that kind of emotion, especially not for him.

You obviously didn't see it, too focused on your own annoyance, but Jace kept glancing in your direction, as if to make sure you saw him. 

He wanted to make you jealous. He wanted to fuel the feeling he'd identified in you. He wanted to catch you at your own game. And one thing was certain, Jace hadn't played all his cards yet.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

After a moment that seemed an eternity, your betrothed returned to sit beside you, Helena going back to her own seat. You were less and less able to hide your annoyance, and no doubt Jace noticed, for he leaned towards you, a satisfied look on his face. "Your sister is very sweet," he murmured. He knew very well that this simple phrase would be enough to send you over the edge. 

You liked attention. You liked compliments. You liked to be praised. 

You said nothing back. But Aegon had his trademark grin, the one that stretched his lips when he had a devious plan, and he was already getting up on the pretext of serving Baela some wine so he could whisper in his nephew's ear.  "I know my little sister can be particularly demanding.” He paused. “And difficult to tame. So if you ever need any advice... Or demonstrations…"

Jace was fuming, but he knew he had to keep his cool. It was Aegon, typical Aegon, to push his buttons, to succeed in making him suddenly unsure of himself, to make his mind confused. His fingers closed around his cup, his jaw clenched, and it took all his self-control not to throw the contents in his uncle's face. 

He didn't even look at Aegon, who had returned to his seat with a triumphant smile.

But you felt something under the table. Something slipped between the folds of your dress, along your skin, discreetly, lightly, a delicious touch against your skin that made you want more.

Your eyes widened.

Jace. 

Jace the perfect son. Jace the model son. 

Jace slipping his fingers under your dress, touching the skin of your thigh, rising dangerously high where you could already feel the wetness forming in the crease between your thighs. 

This was the moment he snapped, you knew it. You hadn't heard your brother's words, you had only seen him lean towards your betrothed, but you knew he must have struck a chord with Jacaerys Velaryon. That he had probably touched his weak spot. 

Or perhaps you were just getting your comeuppance. After teasing him, after making him hard and desperate.

Jace moved his hand, tracing the space where your skin was soft and tender, all the way up your thigh, with a slow, gentle touch. His hand moved further towards the centre of you, where you were sensitive, and he brushed against your crotch. He didn't even need to apply any pressure with his fingertips to tell that you were wet.

Your hips automatically moved towards his hand in search of more contact, causing you to wiggle in your chair. All you wanted to do was grab his wrist, force him to slide his fingers under the fabric separating you, force him to touch you right here. But you were still at dinner and the game was becoming far too dangerous. 

"I told you to be careful," Jace whispered as he withdrew his fingers and resumed his serious gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the wood of the table. “Two can play at this game.”

And then perhaps the Seven heard you. Perhaps they were offering you a way out. To be honest, you weren't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. For Aemond had risen, and he had done what he did best; he had made a mocking and provocative speech to his nephews. 

Everything happened quickly. Jace and Luke leapt to their feet to answer the provocation, Aemond and Aegon were ready to fight back, and even Baela and Rhaena were prepared to defend their family. You had no time to move, no time to react, for dinner was already over, and so was your little game of cat and mouse with Jace.

This was your way out, you knew it. You were tired of sitting around a table listening to boring speeches. And the entertainment that had consisted of sliding your fingers under the table to push Jacaerys Strong over the edge had now turned against you.

"I shall rest," you warned your mother, who was deep in conversation with Rhaenyra, her features wrinkled with worry. "Tonight's events have left me somewhat tired. And I think a night's rest would do me a world of good."  She nodded, stroking your hair, and you knew instinctively what she was thinking. Always the perfect daughter.

And as you passed through the heavy door of the dining room, you hurried off in a direction that was not that of your room.

Oh, but if she knew.

*** 

Thankfully, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the slightest desire to run into a guard who would ask you where you were going or escort you to your room for security reasons. 

Your steps were as discreet as possible on the stone floor, like those of a small mouse. You moved quickly, stealthily, almost on tiptoe.

Only the crackle of the fire broke the heavy silence between the cold walls, where the dancing shadows of the flames distorted.

You slowed your pace. You had a doubt. You weren't sure which door was the one you were looking for. 

And then suddenly, as you reached the end of the corridor, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you against the wall, away from prying eyes. A strong grip, as if it didn't want to let you vanish again.

Jace was holding you between the wall and his own body. Despite the darkness, you could see his eyes shining in the candlelight, fueled by a devouring hunger you didn't know he possessed. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes in yours. A tension hung between you, burning, ready to consume you both, and you were completely willing.

Gently yet firmly he turned your body. Your chest against the cold wall, your back against his warm chest, and you pulled your hips back to provoke him. You wouldn't succumb so easily, not to Jacaerys.

He pressed himself against you, moving his pelvis forward so you could feel his hard member against the top of your buttocks.

"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" Another thrust of his hips. "Can you feel the effect you're having on me?" He pressed harder against you. Through the layers of fabric between you, you could almost feel him throb. Gods, he seemed big. "Teasing me all evening... Such a tease, aren't you?"

If it wasn't the consequence of your own actions.

You stifled a moan with your arm so as not to attract any patrolling guards. What you were doing was dangerous. At any moment you could be caught. At any moment you could be in big trouble.

But you couldn't stop now. Not when the best was yet to come.

You moved again, seeking more contact, seeking to make Jace harder and more painful than he already was, and you turned your head to challenge him. "What if it's you who's just too weak?"

You felt his hoarse breath against the back of your neck, at the base of your hair. He seemed to be hesitating, thinking. About what he was going to do to you, about what he was going to do to make sure you were responsible for your actions. Again he turned you so that you had your back to the wall, facing him, and you recognised the gleam of desire in his eyes.

Towering over you, he lowered his gaze to you, your faces inches apart. For a moment he let his eyes devour you, wandering from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your breasts, visible through the fabric of your dress. He wanted to keep this image printed behind his eyelids; your half-open lips, your pleading gaze, like that of a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

You looked ravishing.

"Tell me to stop," Jace murmured. And you knew it was the sensible thing to do, you knew it was better to stop everything now, while it was still possible to turn back. For you weren't married yet. 

But you had no desire to be responsible.

His fingers curled around a lock of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, waiting for your answer before continuing.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" you replied, your eyes locked with his. He felt your hand against his cheek as you detailed his face, tracing his well-sculpted cheeks, and he longed for more contact, his face seeking the warmth of your palm. 

You put your arms around his neck to draw him closer, to close the distance between your lips, to feel his warmth against your body.

To quench this desire, this need that was becoming uncontrollable.

And your lips met in a feverish, urgent kiss. He pressed you further against the wall, his fingers running down your sides, brushing against the breasts he so craved.

He found your hips and his fingers worked frantically up the bottom of your dress in a crumpled ball of fabric to reach your core. "Look at how wet you are." His fingers brushed your folds through your undergarments. "All of this just for teasing me." He pressed one hand against the wall, still leaning against you, but not giving you what you wanted: his hand had stopped, and you tried to wiggle your hips to force him to continue, to force him to give you what you wanted.

Deep down, you loved the way he was losing control. 

You loved that side of Jace you didn't know. 

So you grabbed his wrist, guiding his fingers under the last barrier that separated his skin from yours. 

The sensation was delicious. 

The touch of his warm fingers against your folds sent a wave of heat from your lower belly through your entire body. You didn't want him to stop. "Here." You breathed against his lips. "This is where muña needs you." Aunt. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if it was the ambiguity of the family tie, uttered in High Valyrian, that had such an effect on him. 

You let your lips brush against his.

He collected your wetness on his fingers, exploring the slit between your folds up to your little pearl. You were soaking wet. And you desperately needed him inside you. 

His fingers slid down to your opening where he applied a little pressure with the tip of his index finger without ever penetrating you.

"I know," he murmured, drawing small circles before abandoning your opening to return to your bud. "But I can't give you what you want now."

You whimpered under his cruelty, against his lips. 

You could see through his game. 

He wanted to make you beg, but you weren't the kind to beg. You were the one with the power and you were going to show him.

"We shouldn't stay here," you muttered, rubbing yourself against your nephew's hand. "If someone catches us..."

Jace nodded his head in agreement, withdrawing his fingers glistening with your juice, which you guided to his own lips, spreading the stickiness against his lips. 

"If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me."

And with that, he pulled you into his room.

*** 

Lying on the bed where you'd pushed him, Jace watched as you removed your dress, his prominent erection stretching the fabric of his breeches. The dress fell to the floor, forming a red puddle that you stepped over, one foot after the other.

Your nephew couldn't look away from your hypnotic figure, but his eyes inevitably wandered back to your breasts. You'd seen him glancing at your cleavage all evening, you could tell he wanted to run his fingers over your soft flesh, his lips over your nipples, and now that you were completely naked in front of him, you could see the unmistakable desire in his eyes.

You walked up to him. He clenched his jaw when he saw you. You, and the perfection of your shape, your little pointed nipples, the tantalising path that led from your chest to the space between your thighs where he knew you were soaked for him. 

The flat of your hand pressed against his chest, forcing him to lie down between the pillows. He complied, never breaking the eye contact between the two of you, and you took your place on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. His husky breath escaped through his parted lips, lightly caressing your face.

You were naked, he was still dressed, and you had infinite power over him.

You lowered your hips against his covered crotch, the essence of your desire staining the linen of his breeches as your hips began to move slowly.

You leaned down and traced his jaw with the tip of your lips, planting kisses along his throat. Underneath you, his member twitched. Mimicking what he'd done earlier, you let your fingers rest on the painful bulge between his legs and whispered, "I know." You applied a little more pressure, drawing a moan from between his lips. "I know it's painful. But I can't give you what you want right now."

Jace growled. He wanted to turn you over, slam you against the mattress, pound into you and make you swallow your insolence. But he wanted to see how far you were willing to go. He wanted to see you keep control for a while longer.

You deftly undid his breeches to make it easier for your hand to slip through. You found his hard member, warm and heavy between your fingers.

It was a new sensation. As a model princess, you'd never ventured into this territory, saving your maidenhood for your future husband.

But Jace was your future husband.

You closed your fingers around him, your thumb collecting the sticky beads that had already formed at the tip of his cock and spreading it along his length. 

"First I want to come on your tongue," your lips articulated against the skin of his throat as the hand that was in his breeches moved up his torso to close around his jaw, your thumb caressing his lower lip to emphasise your words. "Will you let me?" you added. In response, he let the tip of his tongue slip between his lips, touching the pad of your finger. "Let me show you," he whispered.

And indeed, Jace worked devotedly between your thighs, his tongue tracing the length of your slit, drinking in your essence as it flowed from your entrance like a delicious nectar. His tongue tickled your little knob, his thumbs spreading your folds to gain access to the treasure he coveted.

One of his fingers found your hole clenching around nothing, tracing small circles against it to force you to voice what you wanted. "Do you need me here?" he whispered against your flesh, the vibration of his deep voice sending shivers through your core. Your hands buried themselves in the dark mass of his hair and you moved your hips against his face, urging him to maintain the contact of his mouth against you. "Use your words, muña," he added, despite his nose being buried between your folds.

When you gave him the answer he was waiting for, he let a finger enter you in a delicious stretch. You held back a moan, your fingers digging deeper into his hair, not caring if you were hurting him or not. He continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, like a thirsty man, like a devoted man.

You wouldn't last long, your release close.

Jace then added a second finger. The sensation of his fingers inside you, against that rough spot, combined with that of his tongue between your folds, against your pearl, was simply divine. 

"Go on," Jace started, but you immediately cut him off. "Shut up." You didn't want him to speak. You wanted him to continue with his damn tongue, with his broad fingers inside you. You didn't want him to stop. "I am... I am close."

And your climax washed over your entire body like a wave of warmth. Your legs closed around your nephew's face.

It was probably one of the best sensations you'd ever experienced.

Still between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs, Jace collected your arousal on his tongue, sending shivers of overstimulation down your spine, and your whole body shuddering in a brutal spasm. You straightened up, knees still bent, your hand returning to your nephew's hair to guide him over you, his face close to yours. You stroked his cheek gently, as if to let him know he was a good boy, and your thumb picked up the sticky fluid that was smeared all over the bottom of his face.

You were both out of breath. You from the intense release you'd felt, he from the dedication he'd shown.

A smirk formed at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your thumb between his lips to ensure he didn't waste anything. Jace tilted his face close to yours. "You taste divine," he breathed, turning your cheeks red. "But now I need to be inside you."

His fingers slipped between your thighs, where your centre was pulsing, still far too sensitive from the ministrations he had given you. 

"You can give me another, can't you?" He asked, and you nodded, so sore.

After he undressed, Jace pushed on your shoulders to make you lie down, but you skilfully changed positions, taking him by surprise.

You were unwilling to give him the power he wanted, not yet.

Straddling him, you moved your hips to rub your crotch against his erect manhood, spreading your wetness along his length. Beneath you, his torso rose and fell rapidly, and the grunts he let out conveyed his need for more. So your hand sought his hard member, guiding it to your entrance without letting it penetrate you. "So?" you asked playfully. "Do you think you've been a good boy ? Do you think you deserve to be inside me?" You wanted to make him beg, and Jace could see right through you. "To be the first?" you added, lowering your voice slightly, as if you were telling him a secret.

But he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.

So he capitulated, giving you the defeat you'd been waiting for.

"Yes." he breathed. "Please." Your victorious smile stretched your lips and you guided him further against you, pressing his erection against your opening. Fuck. He was massive.

He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, ready to feel your velvet walls tighten around him, but you blocked his hip movement. 

It wasn't enough.

"Please who?" you asked, your fingers moving back and forth around his manhood. He glared at you. You were gloating. "Please, muña," he finally begged, and you gave him what he wanted.

You lowered your hips to let him slide into you in a long thrust that stretched you around him. He was indeedmassive, and the new sensation of having him inside you was a delicious mix of dull pain and burning pleasure. You stood still for a moment to adjust to his presence inside you, your core throbbing around him. The initial pinch gradually dissipated, replaced by a pleasant sensation that sent a wave of warmth through your body. 

And then he began to thrust in and out, pushing up to sink into you. "Fuck...fuck, you're tight," Jace growled. Your loose hair cascaded down either side of your face, tickling his cheeks, and he caught it in a messy bun to hold it behind your head. 

You could feel the same pleasure as before building up in your lower abdomen. 

Gods, you could feel him so intensely. So deeply too. Bouncing rhythmically against that particular part of you. 

You buried your head in his neck, his woody scent filling your nostrils.

It was primal. Animal, between the two of you. All that mattered was the here and now. Your body against his, the sweat beading between you, the moans filling the room.

Jace tugged at your hair, causing you to throw your head back, freeing access to your chest, and he straightened up into a sitting position, his member still deep inside you, to find your breast. He buried his face in it and your hand instinctively found the back of his head to stroke his hair. Jace's lips traced a trail of kisses down the valley between your breasts, following the curve of your flesh before closing around your nipple, which he sucked gently. One of his arms wrapped around you to hold you tight against him, his other hand resting on the breast he wasn't devouring.

You stayed like that for a while, your legs on either side of him, his mouth seeking solace in your breasts, the divine sensation of being full, with him inside you, in the softness of the night, the flames rocking your lovemaking.

One of Jace's arms finally found your back and in one swift movement he reversed position. He desperately needed more, sensing that he wouldn't last long. 

He pinned you beneath him, against the mattress, your legs immediately closing around him and the pace quickened.  His thrusts became more messy, more sloppy because of your two combined essences.  "You're mine, now" he grunted, and you shivered. His index and middle fingers wandered between your folds, caressing the spot where you were joined before moving to the pearl hidden at the top of your slit. "Am I?" you replied teasingly. You could feel him throbbing inside you. "Then be a good boy now and give muña your seed."

That was the spark that ignited the fire. Jace quickened the rhythm of his hips, his fingers still buried between your folds, his movements erratic. With each of his thrusts, you felt his member hitting that sensitive spot against your spongy inner walls. You tensed and for the second time that evening, your release flooded your entire body.  You were followed by your nephew as Jace spilled into you, his seed painting white ropes against your womb.

He lay still inside you for a moment, his cock softening as you both caught your breath, your hands in his dark curls, his head at the nape of your neck. 

You winced as he withdrew from your still sensitive core, his now cold seed flowing between your thighs. Jace dropped down beside you, satisfied. Then you turned to him. You grabbed his wrist one last time and guided his fingers to your centre, where your folds were smeared with the remnants of your lovemaking.

"Look how much you've left inside me," you whispered into his ear, making Jace collect his own seed on his fingertips and push it back into you. "I'm going to keep it all inside me, would you like that, sweet boy?" you whispered again.

And Jace pulled you against him to kiss you, his member stirring between his thighs, against you. It was true that he'd given you the upper hand this time. But he was ready to show you what he could do. You snuggled up against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

"Perhaps…We should bring the wedding date forward."

And he smiled.

#jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace x reader #jace velaryon #hotd x reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys x fem!reader #jacaerys velaryon fanfic

[madi-writes-things]

Partners In Crime

Summary:

Matt leads a dangerous life, and his wife is keeping one hell of a secret. What happens when she almost loses her chance to tell him?

Word Count: 738

TW: Angst with happy ending, hurt/comfort, near death experience, guns, mafia, hidden pregnancy

A/N: This fic is a submission for the Bratzfornick141 writing contest!!! Hosted by @bratzforchris & @nicksbestie (Angst, Mafia X Goody, Taking Care Of Each Other, Hiding a Big Secret)

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

I stare down at two pink lines on the bathroom counter, as I realize that I don’t know what to do. I love Matt so much, and I know he wants a family together… but it’s not safe with the work that he does. He does his best to protect me from it, but I know I’m always in danger. I know that he would leave it all behind to start a family with me, but I can’t ask him to leave behind the life he built with his brothers.

I’ll just wait until the time is right, and then I’ll tell him. Whatever he decides is going to be okay.

“”“”“”“”“”

Three Weeks Later

I quickly walk through the warehouse, towards my husband’s office. He hates it when I visit him at work, but this is too important to wait. I understand his hesitation with letting me into this part of his life… he just doesn’t want to risk me getting hurt, but there’s no way I let him out of my sight for too long. I’m constantly worried that something will happen to him, but there’s no way that he would leave the empire that he built from the ground up.

“what are you doing here?” He’s already annoyed. I had no choice but come to him, since he refused to come home early. “You know I hate it when you come here, I can’t let anything happen to you baby.”

“I have to tell you something…” All of the sudden it’s like the words refuse to leave my mouth. I didn’t mean to hide it from him for so long, but we’ve seen each other for a total of one hour over the last two weeks… I can’t keep a secret like this anymore. “Matt… I’m p-” all of the sudden I’m getting pushed to the ground by my husband.

I hear it, before I see the reason. It’s all so sudden. The guards tackle a man with a gun in his hand. Then it clicks.

“MATT!” He’s toppling to the floor, and I barely stop his head from hitting the ground.

no.

no.

nononononononono.

this isn’t happening… this can’t be real… wake up!

my husband lays with his head in my lap, gasping for air and wincing in pain. The black button up that he wear is slowly turning a dark shade of maroon.

I place my hand directly under his left rib and push down hard. “MNPHH… Did he hit you?!?!” Matt reaches up to my shoulder trying to decipher whether I was hurt or not.

“No, I’m okay…” suddenly there are guards pulling Matt away from me, and escorting us to a blacked out car. Once we’re in the backseat, I tear open Matt’s shirt…

there’s so much blood…

Shit.

all of the sudden everything starts spinning, as I feel the bile rising in my throat. I quickly reach for my purse and dump it out, before emptying the contents of my stomach into it. I quickly zip it up and turn back to Matt, taking his shirt off completely and using it to apply pressure to the wound. He’s squirming away from my touch, but I can’t stop applying pressure… I can’t lose him.

“I know baby… I know it hurts, but you’re going to be okay… you have to be okay.” I’ve never seen Matt so pale.

why won’t the blood stop?

”it’s o… okay, I love you so much ma, a…and I know that you will be oka- okay, no matter what happens.” He gasps for air. This can’t be real.

“NO!” He looks at me, this time less scared of death, and more scared of me. “You aren’t allowed to die…” he tries to argue again, but I cut him off. “NO, You aren’t allowed to make me a single mother!” I choke on my tears as I say it, and it feels like something in Matt’s eyes changes.

“okay… I won’t leave you alone.” He says softly.

we finally arrive at the safe house after what feels like hours, and they sweep Matt away to get him to emergency surgery. Nick and Chris arrive shortly after.

“WHAT HAPPENED?!?!” Nick screams as he runs up to me. I flinch back at his volume. Chris gently grabs my arm, in an attempt to comfort me.

“it’s all my fault… he pushed me out of the way, and I couldn’t stop him… I think it was someone who works for y’all, the guard tackled him… it was supposed to be me.” I devolved into sobs and apologies, as Chris and Nick hold me. We sit like that for what feels like an eternity.

“”“”“”“”“”

when they finally allow visitors, Chris and Nick tell me to go first. I nearly burst into tears when I see Matt, fragile and tangled in wires.

“Hey, ma… or should I say Mama?” With that I run to his side sobbing. He manages to adjust himself so that I can lay with him. I fall asleep peacefully with him next to me, knowing that our little family will be okay.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi

#bratzfornick’s 141 writing challenge #madi writes things #matthew bernard sturniolo #major character injury #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #mattsturniolo

[sokkastyles]

Zutara Month Day 11: "Mom and Dad are Fighting Again"

CW in the tags, and Ozai being Ozai, although just a brief mention.

They'd been arguing about some stupid thing. The color of the curtains in what used to be known as the war room. Zuko's advisors had flooded him with samples of various shades of crimson fabric, while Aang had taken it upon himself to list various new functions for what he had dubbed the "peace" room (just doesn't have the same ring to it, Sokka had muttered), when Toph had leaned over and put her hand in front of her mouth in a dramatic imitation of a whisper while she spoke in a sing-song manner in Suki's ear, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

"Mom and Dad are fighting again!"

"Toph!" Katara whirled around. "This is serious. If Zuko wants to rebrand himself as the people's firelord," she glared across the room at him as she spoke, "he can't have curtains the color of blood! A softer apple blush would look lovely here, with a bit of cream and gold, unless someone doesn't think it's manly enough of course..." she trailed off, clearly anticipating his biting comeback.

"Wow, you really are ready to move in with him, aren't you?" Toph said. "I was only joking, but man..."

Katara sputtered at that, then found her voice. "Toph! Zuko!"

Zuko didn't hear her. He stood, hearing the echo of Toph's words, spoken years ago by a much younger girl as she'd grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the open palace window adjacent to the garden where he and his sister had been playing.

"Come on," Azula had said, insistent, tugging on his sleeve, as Zuko let himself be pulled along. He always did. "Come see," she said, and her grin made him feel something open up in the pit of his stomach as his feet followed her. "Mom and dad are fighting again."

Zuko found himself halfway down an empty, sunlit corridor before he realized it, his stiff and pointed firelord shoes echoing on the marble floor. Stumbling, he reached for a latch, pushing open a floor-length window and stepping out into the garden, overgrown now, but still the same place where he and his sister had played as children.

He didn't know how long he had been there before he heard Katara behind him.

"It's beautiful out here," she said, her voice soft with reverence.

"It's not what it used to be," he said, without looking at her. It was true. They had more to do to make things look presentable than just the curtains. His father hadn't cared much for beautiful things, after Lady Ursa had left.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently, and he could feel her behind him. "Look, I'm sorry about the stupid curtains."

"You never have to apologize to me." He wanted to turn around, to reach out to her, to hold her. But he just...didn't know how to. All he could think about was his sister pulling him towards that open window.

Finally he spoke, kneeling to examine a single yellow lily that had somehow grown out of a bed of weeds, the only spot of sunshine in a sea of red. So much damned red. Katara was right, it was reminiscent of nothing short of blood, and they'd had more than enough of that, hadn't they?

"My dad," he said. "Hurt my mom. He didn't...hit her or anything. And I was too young to know, really. But he hurt her."

"Zuko, I'm so sorry," she said, nearly whispering, as if they might break some sort of fragile silence between them.

And here she was, apologizing again, for something he had done. "I just...don't want that to be us," he said, finally, turning to look at her.

"Us?" She eyed him quizzically.

Zuko looked down again, afraid that he had misread things. Of course he wasn't as bad as Toph, he didn't think Katara actually wanted to move in with him, but he had thought... "Unless there's not...an us?" He studied her expression, waiting for her to laugh, or get angry again, but she didn't.

Instead, she reached for his hand. "I'd like there to be an us," she said quietly.

"Me too," he said, entwining his fingers with her cool ones, and when he looked up at her, he saw warmth in her eyes.

#zutaramonth #zutara #zutara month 2024 #mom and dad are fighting again #my fic #domestic violence cw

[temis-de-leon]

Day 12 - Upside down kiss

Characters: Satan x fem!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: asshole cat, accidental nudity, pre-established relationship

.

MC had mixed feelings about the height of this particular tree. While it brought an enormous shade to the courtyard, offering shelter to both students and animals during storms or abnormally hot days, it also made the resolution of certain… peculiar situations close to impossible.

For instance, no one without wings or unbreakable bones should climb the tree.

So, MC.

In her defence, however, it should be taken into consideration that going up wasn’t her intention. Rather the opposite, actually, she wanted the cat to come down.

She’d never seen an animal like that, with a fur so lustrous it shone under the Devildom’s eternal moonlight. Toxic green eyes stared at her while she cooed and called for its attention, not offering any type of response. And maybe it was her crush’s delusional love for felines taking over her actions, but MC couldn’t see other solution beyond using magic to lure him down.

It didn’t work, of course, because when did something ever work for her? Summoning toys and treats not only was useless, but it also made the cat look at her with disdain, and when she tried to summon the damn creature itself, the words of the incantation and her intentions mixed up and did exactly what she didn’t want to do.

Before MC knew it, the branch where the cat was resting met her face at vertiginous speed. The bark scratched her hands when she desperately grasped it and an infestation of what looked like a mutation of fire ants quickly crawled over her skin, their bites slowly covering wherever they could reach.

Her own weight would be her own downfall; she could notice her fingers struggling to hold on. So, grimacing at the sight of the fire ants, she hoisted herself up and hugged the branch with her legs. Thankfully, the uniform skirt protected her most private and sensitive regions, but her butt didn’t have the same luck.

A wave of panic made her sweat, the bites on her hand, her ankles and her calves more noticeable than ever. Meanwhile, the cat stared at her with amusement.

If the cursed creature even thought of biting or scratching her, she would send it to oblivion and she would not care.

“MC?”

His voice, although it sounded like heaven at the moment, also made her feel deeply embarrassed.

She let her head fall and looked at Satan upside down, not finding herself able to enjoy his handsome features. Blood was quickly rushing down and, added to the pain from the fire ants and the harsh edges of the bark, she wasn’t feeling too good anymore.

“What are you doing there?”

Always the curious mind and slow to empathise in this type of situations, Satan walked until he was below her, where he stayed with a hand on his hip and another one on his chin.

“Proving my stupidity, clearly” MC said in a snide remark, swallowing a sob when her fingers throbbed too much to keep holding on.

In a moment of desperation, she slowly moved her legs so she could hook them over the branch. Her stomach tensed for a couple of seconds while she let herself hang upside down and her hands immediately flew to her skirt to keep her underwear hidden.

It was uncomfortable, mortifying and painful and the moment she stopped, MC wondered why the hell she did it in the first place.

That damn cat.

“Well, no need to be like that” he murmured with a sad pout “I just wanted to know if you needed any help”

MC sighed, but her head was too filled with blood to feel entirely guilty.

“Yeah, I need it… I’m sorry, Satan”

“It’s okay, I understand. That doesn’t look comfortable”

“It isn’t! And it’s starting to hurt!”

“Well, don’t panic” he shushed with slight impatience, looking at her figure and searching for a way to help her “I think I can grab you and help you get down”

Satan didn’t wait for a response, lifting his arms to firmly grip her ribs. The contact made her feel an extra amount of warmth in her face and she prayed he didn’t feel her fastened heartbeat, but judging from his face, not only he did, he was also enjoying it.

“C’mon, don’t look at me like that. Are you telling me you don’t like this as much as I do? You can’t hide from me, MC”

“You’re infuriating”

“Sure” he laughed.

“Can’t you go faster?”

Satan chuckled again before suddenly frowning, a blush covering his entire face. He avoided her gaze for just a couple of seconds before looking at her with bashfulness.

“I will… With an incentive…”

He didn’t say anything else and MC realized he was patiently waiting for her permission. With a slight swing, she moved forward and kissed him.

It was weird, not an ideal first kiss, but they didn’t care. His fingers curled over her skin with gentleness, the air coming out of his nose tickling her cheek.

Before she could think about it, she grabbed fistfuls of his hair, somehow softer than she could ever imagine.

Then, a piece of fabric fell down. Cold breeze caressed her upper thighs.

Gasping in horror, she got away from him.

“My skirt!”

.

.

Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @beatlebeesstuff   @mehkers

#obey me #obey me! shall we date? #om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me x female reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #satan x reader #obey me fluff #obey me writing #obey me drabble #25 kisses challenge

[broodsys]

okay i am calling it im just gonna post this. i could poke at it forevermore and never feel done

anyway, morrigan with hellebores, as promised <3

#broodart #morrigan #morrigan dao #my favorite part is the... whatever u wanna call it. shirt? shrug? the red thing #i like my shading on it and on her stomach

[pathetichoney]

i’ve sat on this for over a month now because i didn’t want to finish drawing the portal. little did i know that it took me like 20 minutes to finish it and only two minutes to clean it up. anyways this is my dimension hopping oc kirika

#my art #oc: watanabe kirika #mha oc #bnha oc #yes she is aroace bc i am shameless in that almost all my ocs are #i wanna draw her in a few different outfits so i might end up posting a less polished refernce of that #but yes she's a lil chubby and not afraid to show her stomach #didn't originally think of kirika being the kind of person to wear a lot of jewelry but as i was drawing her it felt right #her portal looks like fuschia hole in space with wispy bits that feel kinda cold #seriously i wasn't gonna have this drawing be so polished but i got carried away w the shading like always lmao

[bitchthefuck1]

Found out one of my friends read Shades of London so I asked her about it and she said it was fine but she specifically hated Stephen, I'm—

#sick 2 my stomach #you come into my house and insult my pathetic meow meow #it b your own friends #'hes just really boring' first of all. fair. second of all. how dare you. #she actually really liked ready player one tho so i dont super trust her taste lol #shades of london #stephen dene

[wetbananapeel]

2009

#Taffy #my photo #my beloved taffy #i went looking through old photos and found this one of her #she was such a comfort when i was young and i would rest my head on her stomach laying outside in the shade #we would shave her in the summer and she looked like a little lion

[fairy-hub]

“𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠!”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! overstimulation, fingering, oral, squirting, hints of mind break, ex-husband!gojo, pussy-drunk!gojo, cock-drunk!reader, pierced!gojo has his tongue and cock pierced, needy gojo wants to get back to together, mama used one, heavy praise/very light mocking degradation/teasing/confessions, slapping your cunt a few times, light pain kink, scratching your thigh, pinning you down, light size kink, pinning your hands above your head, kissing

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! ❛this is a one time thing.❜ w ex!gojou

𝟏𝟑𝐤 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Your thighs are tremble, toes curling, slick drips from your squelching cunt. Twisting your hips away from Satoru’s persistent tounge and fingers. He tightens his grasp on your thighs, pulling you back into place, keeping you still.

Grinding your sensitive clit on his soft tongue when he growls. The pleasure of the vibrations and the warm metal bar makes it impossible to think straight.

Lifting your head and biting your lip, Satoru is rutting his hips into your blanket. His pre-cum no doubt smearing on it as the soft sheet rubs his cock.

“Fuckmealreadynnn!” Flopping back onto the bed, propping a leg over Satoru’s broad shoulder, digging your heel in. He flicks his tongue and pumps his fingers faster, the pleasure is intoxicating.

You’re so close, whimpering “I should’ve left when I saw you.” Satoru moans in delight, mocking you, stroking your g-spot making your sloppy cunt squirt. He glides his fingers out, dipping his head down and squeezing your hip tighter.

You’re gushing thick warm cum into his mouth, all over his pretty face. Your body shaking, eyes rolling back, jaw dropping, you can't think, there is only intense pleasure.

He nudges your quivering hole, gliding his tongue in, stroking your clit. Loudly moaning when your sensitive cunt clenches his soft tongue.

Stroking your clit faster, spreading his large hand on your stomach, pinning you to the bed. You’re a mindless, trembling and moaning mess.

He smears your slick on his cock. “I couldn’t stop, I miss how she tastes n’ squirts for me.” He roughly smacks your cunt. “I miss the wet sound she makes when I smack her, along with how you cry about it.” He hits your cunt harder, smirking when you cry his name.

He groans “Now that is something I've been dreaming about. How about you cry my name like that with my cock deep in ya?” Leaning over you he grabs your headboard and lines his cock up. Swiping himself between your lip, gliding his cock head over your clit.

Satoru pushes his cock up with a slow sensual roll of his hips. Dragging his cock down, you shiver when the soft ridge of his cock rubs your clit.

Without thinking you confess, “You’ve gotten bigger, it isn’t fair.” Satoru glides his cock in, admiring your little hole stretching as you take his cock. The ridge of his head tugging in your cunt when he softly pulls away.

“Is it because we both that my height, strength, and sculpted body makes your cunt wet?” He grabs your wrists and pins them together above your head with one hand. “Is that what makes you a weak little slut for my cock every time you see me?”

Your cunt clenches his cockhead, his hand are big and soft. It feels wonderful when he caresses your body. “I can't get enough, I thought being with you one more time would be enough, but I only miss you more.” Squeezing your hip, dragging his nails down your thigh, then massaging your soft tit, rubbing your nipple with his thumb.

The way Satoru is fucking your tight, sensitive cunt is overwhelming. The weight of his cock, the softness of his skin and the three metal bars rubbing the inside of your cunt is such a wonderful sensation.

You’re losing your resolve, it takes everything in you to remind yourself, “This is a one-time thing, we go back to living how we did before?” He whines, cheeks flushing a soft shade of pink.

“You don't sound certain of that mama, is it because you’re thinking about how good we were together before? We can be like that again.” He slips his fingers in between your’s, holding your hand whilst clinging onto your hip. Angling his hips perfectly to rub your g-spot.

You whine “You mean before you left meeee,” He strokes your clit. “You’re an asshole, I don’t miss you.” He softly kisses your forehead, your sloppy wet, sensitive cunt squelches when he fucks his pierced cock into you harder.

Satoru taunts you, “That’s not what your sloppy wet cunt is telling me sweetheart.” He softly kisses you, slipping his tongue in when you mouth and whining when you softly bite his tongue. You moan, giving into his needy kiss.

You slip your fingers into Satoru’s soft hair, and wrap your legs around his waist. When he pulls away you whine, “Fuck you!”

He croons with a smirk, “Any time you want, you’re the one saying this has to be a one time thing, even though we are perfect together.”

all works

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

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. a better man.

about. you’re a girl that’s way out of his league and he’s the bad boy you couldn’t help but fall for. what happens when ryomen sukuna fails to meet you in the middle?

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive towards the end, no curses!au, modern!au, it’s implied that sukuna is in a gang, mentions of fights, reader is a rich girl, they’re kinda in love :( bad boy!sukuna, fem!reader.

“you’re mad at me. aren’cha?”

sukuna mutters with an air of faux nonchalance as he lazily jogs up the final marble steps that lead up to the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at nearly two hours ago. the evening traffic zips by, red and white headlights parting through the rain to illuminate your boyfriend’s features. heavy water droplets take residence on the slope of his nose and Cupid’s bow, some even daring to cling on to the tips of dusty rose-coloured hair.

if you weren’t so angry right now, you might take a moment to appreciate how good sukuna looks in the moment — especially with the way the rain makes the designer tux you’d gotten for him cling to his skin. exposing every ridge and dip and curve in his muscle while his inky black tattoos become all the more visible.

“of course i’m mad.” you step aside to let sukuna under the shelter of the entrance, avoiding him as he swoops down for his usual hug and kiss. “tonight is important. it was important.”

“babe c’mon on, i was—“

“you were late. they’re serving dessert in there, ryomen.” your tone is coloured with shades of annoyance and a hint of warning. like a mother about to lecture her child. you’re pissed. it’s written all over your face too — in the way that your brows crease and you pout so adorably. he’ll try to play it off, like he doesn’t care, but it almost makes sukuna sick to his stomach to know that you’re angry with him.

the rain picks up outside of the restaurant and you continue. “all you had to do was show up on time. come to this stupid fancy restaurant and be there to meet my parents. but of course, you got yourself caught up in—“ you grab his dress shirt in frustration, noticing the blood on the collar that doesn’t belong to him. his split knuckles and the bruise on his lips. “— in whatever this is.” you roll your eyes, blood boiling.

“it’s nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” sukuna scoffs, lips spreading wide in his signature smirk. the excuse is lame, but he doesn’t want you to worry for him any longer. “since when did you care about what your parents think, anyways?” but you see it in his eyes, that same old worry. that he’s not good enough for you, that a scumbag like him doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you. he’s always told you to find someone better, someone able to feed into the glitz and glamour that you were brought up in.

but you’ve always told ryomen sukuna that you have everything you need right there with him.

cupping his face, the heat of anger dispels from your body and you exhale deeply though your nose. “i don’t care about what my parents think. if i did, i wouldn’t be dating you.” you cast a thumb over the thick lines of ink decorating his face, accenting sukuna’s high cheekbones and chiselled features while the rest of your fingers sink into his smooth, dark undercut. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to meet them. they’re just as special to me as you are. i want the most important people in my life to know each other.”

your boyfriend’s hands settle on your wrists as he grunts noncommittally, indicating that he’s aware of his wrong doings. if there’s one thing that sukuna hates, it’s upsetting you. he doesn’t care what the world thinks of him, it’s never mattered before. yet, even the slightest look of disappointment from you has the man in shambles. “‘m sorry,” he drawls, his grip on you shifting down to cup your waist — pulling you flush against him. “what can a guy like me do to make it up to you?”

“you can go on in there and charm the hell out of my rich, uptight parents so that we can hurry up and go home,” your voice lowers an octave as you stand on your tip toes for the extra height so that you can nip at the shell of sukuna’s ear. “where you can rip this dress off’a me.”

“such a dirty mouth for such’a prim ‘n proper girl, hm? i should wash it out with soap.” he purrs right back, leaning down to kiss at your neck until you’ve had enough of his frayed pink hair tickling your skin. he damn near melts when your fingers inch up to tug at his roots — earning a deep and thrilling growl from the man. “that was a dirty move. who taught you that?”

“my good for nothing boyfriend, he’s kind of a bad influence.” you tease back, despite having to physically push sukuna away in order to avoid setting off his inner beast before dinner with your parents is done — and instead, take to grabbing his larger hand in yours so you can lead him from the front of house to your family’s reserved table.

and like always, sukuna trails after you like a lost puppy enamoured with the person that found them, have them love and warmth. because, while you didn’t change him, you made him want to be better — to give up the knives in his back and the bullets looking over his head for something better. something softer.

something like you.

ryomen sukuna wanted to become the someone he thought you deserved.

that’s why he put on this stupid suit and tie, why he let you take his hand, why he follows you to the the table that’s sure to seal his fate with you.

behind all that rough exterior, is a man who loves you.

and in front of sukuna, is a girl who loves him and all of his flaws right back.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #don’t look at me lawl #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork

[revasserium]

can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)

hold me (still)

opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence

summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.

a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)

You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.

“Come with us!”

“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.

Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.

It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.

Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.

“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.

“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.

“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.

“Oh, you like her.”

“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.

“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”

Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”

Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”

“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”

Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”

Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.

“Fine then. Go.”

Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.

“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”

“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”

“What, that a crime now?”

Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”

Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”

Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”

“And how’d you propose I do that?”

Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”

Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.

And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.

There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.

Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.

The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.

On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:

“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”

Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.

For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.

“Is it good?”

It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.

“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”

“Not exactly a glowing review.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.

“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”

“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”

Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.

“And then what?” he asks.

“And then… he asks her to marry him.”

You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.

“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.

You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”

Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.

The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.

“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”

Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.

“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.

“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”

Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.

When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.

And you do.

He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.

But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.

The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.

On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —

“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”

You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.

“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.

Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.

Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.

“Could do with a good story.”

Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.

You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.

“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”

A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.

“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”

Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.

“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”

Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”

Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”

Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”

A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.

“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”

Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.

“Whoa… cool name!”

Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”

“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.

“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”

“I… I ran away.”

Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.

“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”

You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.

“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”

You nod, “Something like that.”

Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.

“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.

You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”

Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”

At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.

Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.

“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”

“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”

Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”

Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.

You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.

You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.

Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.

“Hey.”

You turn, “Hi.”

Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.

“Luffy’s right, y’know.”

“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.

“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”

You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”

“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.

You take a shivering breath and force it out again.

“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”

At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.

He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —

“But we can take it slow.”

You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.

You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.

The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.

You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.

Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.

Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”

Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.

You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.

It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.

When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.

The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.

“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.

To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”

You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.

“What is it?”

You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.

“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.

Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.

Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.

Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.

“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”

And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.

You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.

Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.

Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.

“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.

Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.

“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.

“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”

Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”

You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”

And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.

You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.

“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.

“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.

“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I know… and I’ve said before —”

“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.

You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”

You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.

“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”

You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”

“I could restoke the fire.”

“No, it’s — it’s okay.”

“Alright.”

A bird coos the distance.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.

In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”

Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.

He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.

“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”

His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”

You nod, “Still.”

Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”

You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”

Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”

There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.

You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.

You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.

“Gum Gum — Pistol!”

“Seize her!”

You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.

“No one… ever… leaves us…”

The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.

You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.

His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.

“Hey, look at me.”

You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.

“Z-Zoro?”

“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”

You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.

“Th-they’re here — they —”

“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”

Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.

“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —

You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.

“Zoro, I hurt you!”

At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.

“This is nothing. C’mon.”

He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.

“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.

Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.

They all pivot to look at you.

You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.

Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”

Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.

“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”

Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.

“Got something on your neck, mate.”

Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.

“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”

Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.

The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.

You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.

“Sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”

“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”

You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.

“Hey, look at me.”

You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.

“I’m fine.”

And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —

The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.

For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.

For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.

For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.

And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.

Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.

You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.

“Crap, I forgot about these.”

Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.

“It’s okay. So did I.”

You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.

“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.

Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.

“So.”

You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.

You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.

“Right now? Not really.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.

You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.

“Can I ask for something else, though?”

“What is it?”

You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.

“Kiss me again.”

Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.

And does.

And does again.

reqs are: temporarily closed

but feedback is much loved and appreciated!!!

#Anonymous #one piece #one piece live action #opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #x reader #opla #one piece netflix #opla zoro x reader #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #roronoa zoro fluff #one piece fluff #opla fluff #roronoa zoro imagines #roronoa zoro scenarios #floofy floof floof #scheduled post #angst mcgee #and yes after some consideration and that poll #im giving Proper Caps a try LOL #its strange i think it actually changes my voice a lil bit #but i dont think i mind??? #anyway -- any feedback would be much appreciated! <3

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ blessings ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

↬ summary: nanami kento tries to be the perfect husband and father but when a tough night fighting curses ends badly it results in nanami snapping at his daughter. 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: nanami x female reader; hurt/comfort; nanami has a daughter; domestic drama; being a jujutsu sorcerer is hard; momotarō is a famous Japanese folk tale :c ↬･ wc: 3,383

↬ notes: hi, everyone! I'm currently not really active at the moment so please don't feel disheartened if I haven't been responding to your messages or tagged posts. I'm taking a small break and only coming online for a bit to catch up on some messages, read fics or queue posts. I'll be back to properly posting and interacting soon but in the meantime I wanted to share that I finished up this draft over the weekend. I was actually debating if I should post this but then just decided to go for it! sending all my love xx

nanami’s head is heavy, completely clouded with despair, and it tints his brown eyes a shade of murky gray. the walls of his beautiful home feel narrow, almost claustrophobic, which explains why he’s struggling to catch his breath right now. stepping into the hallway, he instinctively peeks into the dining area to find you and his daughter eating dinner together. she’s sitting on the chair, her legs far too short to even touch the ground, holding a half eaten onigiri between her small hands. you are by her side, sneakily tidying up after her as you brush away the stray beads of rice trickling onto the table. 

a little glow blooms in nanami’s heart at the sight of you both but there is a vicious creature residing in the pit of his stomach that veils the bright light away. 

he quietly takes off his jacket, his bruised fingers loosening the tie around his neck. he clears his throat before announcing with exhaustion to you both that he’s finally home. 

your eyes meet his, the muscles on your face falling immediately. he can practically feel the blood rushing through your veins as worry washes over you. the reaction makes his chest uncomfortably tight, but he knows that he can’t hide his expressions around you like he used to. 

you both move together so fluidly now, like a single body of water that ebbs and flows to its own natural current. 

he escaped the night’s fight with a few cuts and a couple of bad bruises, but there is currently a student on shoko’s table who barely made it through. the young man arrived at jujutsu tech only a couple of weeks ago, but his naive and charismatic qualities turned into fatal flaws in the world of sorcery.

he bit off more than he could chew by trying to take on a special grade curse.  

shoko promised nanami that she would heal the boy, but admitted there was only so much she can do in regards to the aftermath of his injuries. the sorcerer couldn’t bare to leave him behind, but gojo refused that he stay and insisted that he return back home to his pretty wife and adorable daughter immediately. 

“I’ll handle things from here,” is what his superior said, while nanami’s guilt climbed up his throat. 

that student was his responsibility... 

...and he failed him entirely. 

“papa’s home!” his daughter chirps. the pitch of her voice ringing in nanami’s ears to pull him back to the present and far away from the scene where life and death were dancing together in a tango.  “papa, look, look...mama and I made onigiri!” 

her feet bounces up and down, and there’s a touch of a pink against her cheeks when her mouth stretches into a beaming grin. the innocence in her eyes makes nanami falter and he can feel himself falling deeper into the abyss. for a minute he resents himself for selfishly bringing such a beautiful thing into this world, only to gamble with the fact that she may potentially be in his shoes one day. 

he begs for that outcome to never happen, beseeches whatever higher power above him that exists to spare her from this life. she should never have to go through this, never have to experience these heartbreaks that only wither a person down. 

“I can see that,” nanami replies in a low voice before shifting his attention to his feet. 

right now, he can’t stomach an ounce of her purity, and it radiates around her like a halo. she's so unbothered by his presence, so completely unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere around her... 

“we made tuna, salmon, and veggies...” she babbles on. 

“how nice...” nanami curtly interrupts, before anxiously running his fingers through the strands of his messy blonde hair. 

“which one do you want, papa?” she questions eagerly, pointing her sticky hands at the plate to show off the selection of triangles. 

“sweets,” you interject just as nanami turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, “how about we finish up eating our dinner, and we can save some for your daddy tomorrow...”

“nooo!” she whines far too loudly, which forces nanami to stop dead in his tracks. he glances over his shoulder to see her puffing out her bottom lip with disappointment, “you said...you said we make it so we eat together!” 

she’s only six. 

she can’t perceive that her father is struggling to hold himself together. deep down inside nanami knows that, but it isn’t enough to keep his cool. he doesn’t know why his daughter’s insistence causes him to pinch the front of his brows with annoyance or why he shoots a frustrated look in her direction. 

he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly picturing shoko calling the student’s parents to deliver the news that the man who was supposed to protect their child was unsuccessful in his duty. 

he doesn’t know why he feels at fault for everything that happened, even though the circumstances of the events were completely out of his control.  

he doesn’t know why he’s imagining himself on the receiving end of a very similar call, or why he can’t stop picturing his precious daughter on that table instead…

all of this pummels into him, and the monster emerges out from it’s cave.  

“be quiet and stop making such a fuss.” 

his voice comes out sharper than expected, and the expulsion of his frustration allows him to see the crystal clear picture before him. 

the room is dead silent. 

your face is in full shock at the hissing tone of your sweet husband snapping at his darling baby girl who he only ever speaks to with a gentle voice. 

what truly unravels nanami is the look that his daughter is giving him - her angelic features are sullen, but her eyes remain wide with surprise. her bottom lip is slack, and the only sound he can hear is her uneasy breathing. her eyes, the most beautiful gems in existence, twinkle as tears begin to form and she tries to quickly blink them away before turning her attention back to her plate.  

nanami doesn’t know he managed to stop time itself but the three of you remain frozen in place. 

he regrets his words immediately. 

he wants nothing more than to pull his precious girl close into his chest and smother her with apologies. the part of him with sense tells him to follow through and make things right with her, but instead he begrudgingly continues to wallow in his own self pity as he walks over to his room. 

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

the house is unusually quiet now, the music of domestic joy morphing into hushed murmurs and whispers outside your room door. you settle your crestfallen daughter into her bedroom before moving to check on your husband next. 

fresh out of the shower, nanami is seated on the edge of the bed with his exhausted eyes pressed firmly into the palms of his hands. he exhales a heavy breath, his dirty work clothes still piled just outside the bathroom, and your heart nearly collapses seeing him in such a state of disarray.

you kneel before him, two hands sliding across the soft material of his sweats as you brush them along his thighs before carefully bringing them up to circle around his wrists. 

“kento?” 

he allows you to pull his palms away but your throat constricts when a band forms tightly around your neck. you swallow the lump with an upturn of your brows as you are greeted with red, exhausted eyes. you cup that handsome face in your hands, your thumbs sweetly motioning back and forth across his cheeks as you try to soothe the tension away. 

after all this time together, it hurts you to see that he still tries to hide his tears. nanami constantly holds himself to the highest standard, always ensuring that he can solidify himself as the rock for you and your daughter to depend on through thick and thin. it’s so rare for you to see him crack, to watch him crumble under the overbearing weight of the things that he is burdened to carry. 

“you had a rough night,” you point out in a low, sympathetic voice and he simply just nods his head in acknowledgement. 

his eyes flutter close again when you lean forward to press a tender, reassuring kiss on his brow. “you want a talk about it?” 

the way his voice shakes makes you shiver, but you tentatively listen as he relays the events of the night before finally concluding that satoru called him only a few minutes ago to reassure him that the student in question is alright. 

“he lost an eye, but at least he’s alive...” he concludes somberly, the warble in his final statement prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a protective hug. 

nanami receives it with gratitude, strong arms circling around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder and breathes in.

your scent is a reminder of his permanent sanctuary.

a safety, a reassurance of home.

you stroke his blonde locks between your fingers until he exhales, "i'm so sorry," he breathes, "I...I didn't mean to snap like that..."

a tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you unravel yourself to cup his jaw into your palms once again. "I appreciate the apology, but I don't think I should be on the receiving end of it..." you hint sweetly.

nanami closes his eyes guiltily. "I'm a horrible father."

you click your tongue with disappointment, your face falling as your disapproval pinches between the space of your brows.

"you're just human," you remind him defensively, "you're a wonderful father, the best man that our daughter can look up to"

"did you see the look on her face?" he replies, his voice unnaturally small. the tender expression he gives you is filled with regret, and it's enough to make your heart ache all over again.

"kento," you contend, "don't do this to yourself. we're both going to have days where we mess up, but that doesn't mean that the problem can't be fixed."

you thread his hair between your fingers, like your brushing through rays sunlight. "she's waiting for me to read her a bedtime story," you explain, "but I'm sure she would rather be with you instead..."

"I doubt that," your husband replies as he reaches for your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.

"we will always love you, kento," you answer back, "unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

he didn't even know how desperately he needed to hear that, for your certainty to remedy away all his sorrows, until they actually left your lips.

your husband's throat tightens, tears pricking his eyes once more but he hides them away when he leans in to seek out a kiss from the woman whose heart he deeply adores.

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

nanami leans his shoulder against the frame of his daughter's room. his heart patters lightly, making him realize that he might actually be nervous. it's strange, he thinks, that he would feel hesitant to approach his own child considering that he was her guardian but nanami had never allowed his professional life to fracture into his personal one like this before.

she's seated on the floor next to a pile of books and her stuffed rabbit secured tightly underneath her arm. there's a warmth in his chest when when he makes note of the soft toy, because he purchased that himself the day she was born and the pair have been inseparable ever since.

he clears his throat, bringing his scuffed knuckles to gently knock on the door.

"my love?" he calls out to her.

his daughter perks up, her breathing changing slightly as it rises and falls with a hint of apprehension. she glances over her shoulder to see him.

"where's mama?" she asks, her question shattering the man into a million pieces at her subtle dismissal.

"taking a shower," he answers cooly, "but I'm here to get you ready for bed..."

her lovely eyes refuse to lock into his own, and she simply tucks her lip between her bottom teeth to avoid giving nanami a reply.

she looks so much like him when he was a child. he remembered when his parents used to scold him too, and how he would also hide away in his room. the only difference is that nanami's parents were far more traditional - a time where elders were never submissive to young hearts.

"may I come in?" he requests politely, ensuring that his daughter knew she had a choice if she wanted to speak to him.

her nostrils flare slightly while she considers him, but to his relief she nods her head eagerly.

nanami steps into her room, always feeling largely out of place amongst her things. "did you find a story for bed?" he asks.

she again quietly nods her head and picks up her favorite book; a compilation of japanese folktales with beautiful illustrations. you both have been reading one for her each night ever since she got it it as a present from her grandparents.

he crouches on his knees to meet her at eye level. "you've really been enjoying this one, haven't you?" he carries on, hoping to coax more words out of her.

“yeah,” she replies in the same mousy voice of uncertainty. she shifts her attention away when she stands on her feet, clutching onto the stuffed bunny tightly while her other hand swings the book by her side.

“and what tale are we reading tonight?”

she shrugs her shoulders with indifference, a hint of pink blushing her cheek. “I dunno. I…I can just until mama is ready…”

nanami visibly slumps. her rejection an entirely new painful experience that he's never endured before. he scratches the back of his head anxiously, finding himself at a loss for words. the seconds pass, an awkward bubble surrounding both father and daughter. it’s only broken when nanami exhales a sigh, and reaches his hands towards her waist to draw her into his frame.

“darling,” he addresses tenderly, “can you look at me?”

“no, you were mean…” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

nanami’s heart sinks.

that’s the first time he’s ever heard those words from her lips.

“I know,” he murmurs shamefully.

her mouth forms into a tiny button of a pout but she meets his eyes for the first time as he acknowledges his behavior.

nanami arches forward to kiss her forehead, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I upset or scared you”

she fidgets with the book in her hand. “did you not want onigiri?” she asks, her innocence tugging the corners of her father’s lips into a small grin.

“it wasn’t the onigiri, my love,” he reassures, “daddy just…had a bad day at work…”

“why was it bad?”

nanami sighs once again.

she still doesn’t know that he’s a sorcerer. you’ve both reduced his position to her by simply explaining that nanami “helps and protects people".

thankfully your daughter doesn’t pry too hard to ask any further questions.

“someone I know got hurt. so, daddy was a little shaken up when he came home…”

"shaken up?"

"scared, my love"

his daughter shakes her head in disbelief, “nu-uh, you never get scared, papa” she rebuts.

nanami huffs out a laugh, flashing her a full grin now as he brings his fingers to his chin to to ponder her sweet statement. he quirks his brow and cheekily replies, "we can't all be brave like you," in an attempt to lighten the mood.

his daughter narrows her eyes towards his hand, her mind instantly distracted with other things already. "you got hurt too papa!" she gasps, dropping the bunny by her side to point at his knuckles.

nanami glances at his fingers covered in red marks.

"wait!" she exclaims as she places the book by his side. "I have something!"

she spins on her heel and rushes towards one of her drawers. meanwhile, nanami just takes her in with his love soaked eyes, watching as she rummages through her stuff with determination until she scurries back his way.

"got it!" she squeaks with a smile, and to his surprise she jumps right into his arms with such nonchalance it nearly make him crumble on the spot.

your voice echoes in the back of his mind: "we will always love you, kento. unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

"mama bought it for me," she explains, regaining her father's attention once more.

nanami rests his cheek on her shoulder, and inhales her powdery scent as he keeps one arm warmly secured around her waist. he watches her peel off the plaster of the band aid, lbefore grabbing his hand and placing it unevenly over his knuckles.

"now a kiss!" she adds, as she brings his hand to her mouth and exaggerates a loud "mwah" sound for emphasis. "mama says the kiss is what makes it all better"

nanami instantly feels significantly better from this remedy of love. he extends his digits out, and looks at the hot pink "hello kitty" band aid that now rests comfortably on his knuckles.

"thank you, my darling," he coos and peppers her cheek with a few kisses before turning her to face him once again. "you made me feel a lot better"

she flashes him an equally large smile in return, showing off her missing teeth.

"I did?"

nanami chuckles as he scoops her up in his arms to give her a well deserved bear hug. she laughs as he stands on his two feet, and sheds away any lingering thoughts of apprehension that may have stuck.

"you always do," he reassures, his soul vibrating back to life when he feels her return his embrace. “you think you can forgive me for how I spoke earlier?”

“yeah,” she confirms and squeezes him just a little tighter. "I love you lots, papa"

"oh, my angel," he hums, "you have no idea just how much I love you too..."

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

after winding down from your evening pampering session, you decide to pass by your daughter's room to check on your little family. you peer through the cracked door to find nanami spread out on your daughter’s bed, with your daughter curled into side and her head resting on his chest.

“did I come from a peach too like momotarō?” you hear her ask, but your heart flutters at the sight of your husband’s pearly whites.

you’ll never get over how much you love seeing him smile with such genuine emotion.

“no,” you hear nanami reply calmly, his finger lightly holding the page open. “you remember your mother explaining how you used to live in her stomach first?”

“oh yeah,” your daughter replies with a hint of disappointment over the fact that she was not birthed from a piece of fruit as mentioned in one of her favorite folk tales.

“shall I carry on?”

“uh-huh,” she answers and she readjusts her position to get even more comfortable. "I think if we look hard enough we might find momotarō..."

"you think so?" your husband wonders with honest curiosity.

"I know so, papa!"

"how many peaches do you think we need to check?"

"hmmm," she mumbles, "maybe a million?"

"a million?" your husband dramatically replies, "that's a lot of peaches don't you think,"

"I mean, it's less than a billion..." she responds quite matter of factly.

you catch his gaze from between the door that’s ajar. his expression fully relaxes, and you smile knowingly in his direction at the sight of father and daughter making up.

“papa?” his daughter questions upon his sudden silence, but your husband keeps his focus on you as he hums in acknowledgement before replying, "you're not wrong, but it'll still be quite a challenge to cut through a million peaches..."

"we might need some help," your daughter adds on.

you blow him a secret kiss as to not interrupt further, and quietly close the door before heading back to your bedroom.

#[peach is away.💌] #[peach queues.🧡] #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x female reader #nanami x ofc #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento angst #nanami angst #nanami hurt/comfort #jujutsu kaisen angst #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction #jjk fluff

[rootbeerworshiper]

hands on learning

virgin!matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: finding out new information about your best friend has made you realize he has lots left to learn, and you’re more than willing to offer a helping hand.

warnings: smut!! fem!recieving, riding, overstimulation, slight orgasam denial, fingering, unprotected sex, slight corruption kink

a/n: i feel like i disappeared from writing on my page for a while because i’ve been helping with so many other accounts butttt i hope this makes up for my absence

dedicated to my love @luv4kozume

4.5k words

love, sienna <3

“there’s no way” you gawk, sitting up in bed next to your best friend who’s beneath you with a sure expression plastered on his face. “there has to have been a girl from highschool or something”

his cheeks flush a light shade of pink, his body making it clear just how embarrassed he really is. “i’m serious” he says, shrugging as he sits up to be eye level with you.

you think for a second, silence filling the air surrounding you. “what about Alexis? you had a thing with her for a while didn’t you?”

he rolls his eyes, leaning back into the headboard as his legs shift slightly to get more comfortable. “you’re never gonna let this go are you?”

you scoff, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you look to him. “you’re telling me, Matt Sturniolo, my best friend, is a virgin?”

he nods, causally as if this is the most normal information you could possibly gather—it’s far from that. “but you’re like…. hot” you say.

he chuckles slightly, shaking his head as it dips below his neckline, once again flustered. “i don’t think being ‘hot’ has anything to do with it” he mumbles under his breath.

your eyebrows furrow together, the pieces in your brain attempting to form a complete puzzle. “is that not exactly what it has to do with? like you could pull easy”

“what makes you say that?” he asks, a new sense of seriousness backing his tone as his eyes glimmer in your direction, causing a slight pit in your stomach.

you and Matt have always had a complicated friendship. the two of you technically dated back in freshman year of highschool but neither of you count it, instead staying steady in your friendship. but you can’t deny the tension that’s remained since, no matter how badly you wanted it to go away it was inevitable.

hearing the information of him being a virgin though? completely mind boggling to you.

you’ve thought about him in that position more times than you can’t count, part of you always wishing to see him that way, all flustered and sensitive under your touch. so new to any pleasure that you can provide to him.

but you had assumed a long time ago you lost your chance to witness that, to watch the innocence leave his body.

sex had never been a huge topic of discussion in your friendship, but usually with the two of you nothing was off limits, so you find it hard to believe he’s lying about this innocence instilled in him.

“don’t play dumb, even you know you’re attractive” you breath out, slightly annoyed at his need for you to spell it all out for him, it’s making you feel more desperate than you’d like. “you know how to talk too, i’ve seen the way you joke around with me, there’s no way you don’t have girls falling on their knees to get with you”

he seems to speak before his mind can even comprehend the words escaping his lips. “i’m only like that with you” his mouth cuts himself off, lips shutting before more words leave.

“only like what? you only flirt with me?” you ask, taunting him slightly as you use this new found sense of power to boost your self esteem.

his nails make their way to the back of his neck, trying desperately to scratch away the humiliation lingering. “well… i guess? i just feel comfortable around you or whatever, this doesn’t have to become a thing”

a new idea sets it self comfortably in your head, your salivary glands leaking to create a pool in your mouth as your imagination takes off. “have you thought about having sex with me?” he coughs, caught off guard at your sudden boldness. “you know, you’re so comfortable around me, what have you pictured me doing?”

the boy reverts his attention to avoid you, the topic causing a new restlessness in his small actions, only further intriguing you. “i think you’ve lost your mind” he lets out a breathy laugh as if to ease the tension you’ve created, but you want the tension to remain more than anything.

“i’ve thought about you” you say simply, earning a quick turn of the head followed by a shocked expression on his face.

he swallows, his eyes flickering around you as he tries to search for a hint of some form of a joke, a cruel lie maybe. but he can’t find anything. “now you’re being ridiculous”

you avoid the slight tang of hurt that attempts to infiltrate your chest, because part of you wants this more than you’re sure he does. “i’m dead serious. i’ll help you”

his eyebrows feather together, but he can’t kind the hope that fills his light blue irises, the desire for you is simply inescapable. “help me have sex?”

your lips spread to a smile. “sure. as your best friend i can’t let you be bad at sex with some girl you really like, so i’ll make sure you’re good”

the plan was simple, transactional even. you teach him how to give and receive pleasure and in return he won’t have an awkward actual first time with some innocent unsuspecting girl.

silence clouds the air in his bedroom for a moment, it’s as if you can see every thought in his brain as he mentally weighs his options.

as much as you maybe shouldn’t, your eye-line focuses on hands that twiddle together aimlessly, the mere size of them being enough to interest you—let alone the veins that coat the back of them.

it’s impossible to not let your mind wander a bit. he’s your best friend, maybe it’s not normal to be imagining him in such revealing positions but it seems as if it’s a thought your subconscious is more than okay with crafting.

“and we stay friends after this?” he asks the question that you’ve been asking yourself, the question that’s been torturing you.

you’re already in love with Matt’s personality, with his goofiness and sarcastic humour. you love him to death as it is—but it’s hard to imagine what being intimate with him will do to your psyche. “we stay friends, no strings attached”

the brunette thinks for a moment longer, ultimately coming to a conclusion. “okay, deal. but what’s in it for you?” he asks, a shot of anxiousness shooting through your stomach.

what’s in it for you? besides having sex with your best friend? not a lot.

“it’ll help me sleep at night knowing you’re not making girls fake their orgasams” you smile smugly, selling that faux answer as the truth. “we don’t have to you know, no pressure”

he almost jumps out of his position on the comforter, terrified that he’ll lose the opportunity to do what’s consumed his head for years. “no i want to, i do”

you almost let out a laugh at his newfound willingness but you fight the urge, instead shifting your body on top of his, straddling his lap before he has a chance to get another word in.

he looks up at you, his beady, unexplored eyes only making the tension between your legs grow impossibly more needy.

your arms find solitude on his shoulders, the back of your wrists resting gently as his own hands remain stagnant on his sides.

“what have you done?” you ask, fingers gently grazing the skin on the sides of his neck. “just so i know what we need to work on” also because you’re incredibly curious to know every detail.

he sniffles, eyes looking everywhere but your own as you stare down at him. “um just with Alexis i used my uh hands or whatever” his eyes look at you now and it takes everything in you to not become a puddle on his lap.

“so you fingered her?” your voice is different now, quieter but more focused on the musicality of your words, praying mentally that they flow right to his spine.

they do. “yeah i guess i did” he coughs out, hands still not being put to good use. this is until your hips roll ever so slightly, just enough to cause his hands to shoot up off the blankets.

“you can touch me you know, i don’t bite” you smile, teasing applying a strong pressure on his lap as you feel him grow beneath you at the friction. his hands trail up your sides delicately, testing the waters. “can i kiss you?” you whisper, feeling the need to ask. sex is one thing, but for whatever reason kissing feels like a bigger step.

he doesn’t reply, for once taking charge and bringing your lips down to his in a hungry surge of energy. the kiss sends currents through every nerve that lies in your lips, the plush closeness could leave you dizzy.

he has now put his hands to use, one ringed hand cupping your jaw while the other rests gently on your lower back. the kiss is nice, it’s a simple exchange that only proves to you that you need more of him. so as your lips move in a rhythm, you can’t fight the urge to grind yourself onto him mid kiss, causing his mouth to break the exchange and open slightly at the sensation.

“what do you want from me?” you ask, because realistically, this experience is for him more than it is for your own selfish benefit.

the boy smiles slightly, a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth as if he’s a kid in the candy store who’s allowed to pick any treat he wants. “what do you want from me?” he asks, his fingers moving up and down your back teasingly. “i want you to enjoy this as much as i already know i will”

god you really do love him, it leaves you wondering if you even have anything to teach him. “so…. you fingered that alexis girl.” you pause, trying to find the right words. “did you give her head?” you ask, feeling suddenly exposed for the intrusive question you’re asking.

he shakes his head but doesn’t bother replying with words, instead placing your back onto the bed, allowing him to hover over you. “teach me” his voice is low as he whispers into your ear.

you try your best to speak as he looks down at you “well you should probably start with some foreplay first maybe-“ you start, his lips make contact with your bare neck while his large hands slide up your sides. “maybe that” you gulp.

he seems comfortable with his movements, learning exactly how to make you squirm under him. each kiss he places on your neck has you leaning into him before, somehow you became the desperate one in this dynamic—not that you’re upset by that.

“and then…” his voice is low, quiet as his hands pull up your shirt slightly, looking into your eyes for an agreement.

you give a reassuring nod, eager for his movement to hurry up. but of course, he takes his time, slowly lifting the fabric above your chest while his mouth leaves marks on your neck.

your arms lift up subconsciously, earning a laugh from Matt as he complies, lifting the fabric completely over your head and tossing it gently to the side of his bed. he practically drools at the sight of you under him, licking his lips as he takes in the view—he could definitely get used to this.

after a moment you become impatient, pulling him down by his cheeks to plant another kiss on your lips, which he does willingly, his hands falling on either side of your head as he holds himself up.

it’s short lived when he pulls back. “i’m here to learn how to make you feel good yeah?” he asks, earning a nod in confirmation from you. “well i’d really like to get to that part if you don’t mind” he laughs slightly.

you smile in response. “i just really like kissing you i guess” it’s embarrassing to admit but at this point you’re past that.

“trust me” he leans in to kiss you one more time, his hands now being placed on your chest, fingers running slightly over your clothed nipples. “i do too”

it’s hard to not let things like that get to your head, constantly trying to remind yourself that this is just sex, you’re going to use each other for pleasure and then everything will go back to normal.

you feel hands travelling behind your back, unclasping your bra before you’re even able to sit up and help. that should not have been as hot as it was.

he slips the straps off your arms, fully taking in the new mesmerizing sight in front of him. it would be impossible for him to avoid staring, he’s seen so much of you over the years but this was his favourite yet. “you’re so beautiful” he shakes his head slightly. “you’re always beautiful, you’re just really hot right now”

as much as you really are flattered, you’re also so incredibly desperate. “Matt please touch me” you beg, pulling him down by his shirt.

“yes ma’am” his head dips down to your chest, his soft lips immediately latching onto your perked up nipple while his hands have their fun exploring your body.

it’s like he’s been waiting for this forever, fingers trailing up and down your body as he takes his time on each bud, making a point to leave a few marks on your chest.

he could be at your chest forever, this was something he’s thought about more than he’d like to admit, but he’s also thought about making you feel good, hearing you scream his name over and over. it’s safe to say he’s determined.

as his mouth continues to have fun with your chest, his hand trails up your leg, this time cupping you and placing a pressure on your clothes clit with his palm. you practically jolt forward at the unexpected contact, looking down to see a small smirk on the boy who now placing teasing kisses on your tense stomach.

his fingers start by rubbing slow, small pressurized circles on your throbbing bud, his other hand running its fingers through your hair. he really can’t help but stare, the whole thing still feels like some wet dream.

you feel a small tugging at the waistband of your pants. “can i?” the boy asks, his hair falling over his eyes slightly as he looks to you for permission. you just nod quickly, lifting your hips to allow him the space needed to pull down the fabric, him making it a point to pull down your underwear as well—to say he’s inpatient would be an understatement.

when you feel the fabric get pulled off your ankles you can’t help but keep your thighs together, it suddenly feels very real. Matt notices the sudden hesitation, running his hands from your shins, up your thighs, until both his hands are placed on your waist. “we can stop you know, i can pretend this never happened” he lies, attempting to make you feel better.

“i want this” you start, trying to figure out how to word what you’re about to say. “i just don’t know if i’ll be able to forget this happened. i already wanna do it again and we’ve barely done anything”

what you don’t know is that that sentence of yours is like music to his ears. “good” he dips his head back down to be eye level with your own, his forehead resting on you. “i’ve been wanting to do this forever” his hands come up slightly on your legs, placing a gentle pressure on your knees as he pushes your legs apart.

a shaky breath escapes your lips as his hands trail down to your inner thighs, his focus is much more clear now to say the least. “i can’t believe i get to see you like this” he shifts back down, his lips creating a slight suction on your lower stomach as he continues kissing you.

you try your best to stay still, the teasing nature of his actions making that task near impossible. “are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you spit out, eyes trained on Matt who’s taking his sweet time placing delicate kisses on your inner thighs.

he chuckles softly, clearing having his ego stroked at your praise. “i’m sure” his hands make way to your legs again, lifting them over his shoulders leaving your knees slung over. “tell me what to do”

“um usually you have to get it wet first, using your spit or something” you mutter out, already far gone at the mere thought of what’s to come.

Matt obliges to your advice, letting saliva fall from his mouth onto your throbbing sensitivity, taking a moment to watch as it slides down slowly before speaking again. “and then?”

it’s an uncomfortable thing to just…explain, but as his teacher you’re sort of obligated to. “you could start by kissing it a bit uh”

his lips make an immediate contact with your glistening clit, placing a few soft, open-mouthed kisses over the needy bud. the slowness is torture and you put up quite a fight in order to keep still. “like that?” he asks, his voice raspy now as his hands place a soothing pressure on your hips.

you nod, your hair falling over your face slightly. “you can just try and i’ll tell you if it’s bad”

he laughs a little at your need to receive pleasure, but ultimately agrees. “you have to tell me though” he places another small kiss to your inner thigh. “i wouldn’t wanna be giving out any ‘fake’ orgasams”

it’s clear he’s just teasing but you can already tell that nothing about tonight will be faked.

he starts with his tongue, testing the waters as he licks up and down your folds to gather up the wetness he’s caused, and he studies your every movement. he looks up to focus on how your body reacts to every flick of his tongue on your clit, taking mental notes on how to get you to enjoy it the most.

his melodic movements on your core have you bucking your hips forward to increase the pressure of his pink muscle. “just like that, so good” you moan out.

he smiles onto you, continuing his pace while taking turns between sucking and flicking his tongue, both options have you drenched. you try you best to keep your eyes focused on the messy brown hair that covers you but almost every movement of his fast tongue make you want to throw your head back.

the sounds leaving your mouth are exactly what he’s chasing, the whines you’re letting out only work to make him move faster against you. it takes you a moment to remember that this is a lesson, and you haven’t taught the boy much. “you can- fuck” you moan again. “you can add fingers”

he places one more kiss to your clit before coming back up to meet your eyes with his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks innocently.

you smile, wiping his lip slightly before agreeing and placing his mouth onto yours. it’s safe to say you’re both addicted to the newfound intimacy.

this exchange lasts slightly longer than the last few, you’re tongues gliding alongside one another comfortably. Matt now brings his hand back to your soaked core, catching you off guard as you moan into his mouth.

his fingers toy mindlessly with your clit while he kisses you, and you try your best to return the favour but it’s near impossible to keep your mouth closed. before you can even begin to think straight he inserts a finger into you, slowly curling up as you arch your back onto the mattress. “yeah you like that?” he questions, pulling off of your mouth but keeping his gaze focused on your face.

every twitch in your eyebrows and opening of your saliva covered lips has him eager to see more, to see what else he’s capable of making you feel. he picks up the pace slightly, shifting his body back down yet again as he slips in another finger.

you practically jolt up at the sudden fullness of a second length. as amazing as this is, you have little time to savour it before you feel a familiar tongue on your slit of ecstasy, working faster now than before.

it doesn’t take much of this to have you gripping the sheets and trying to shut your legs over the shaggy brown hair, but he doesn’t let up once, using his elbows to forcibly keep you spread for him. “Matt you’re so good”

your hips can’t help but grind onto his tongue as his fingers repeatedly make contact with your sweet spot. “i’m so” you throw your head back but he pulls his tongue away before you can finish your sentence.

“look at me when i make you feel good yeah?” his fingers continuing pumping in and out at a pace that leaves you speechless, so instead you nod, trying your best to follow directions from the person you were meant to be directing.

it doesn’t take much longer for the sensation in your stomach to build up, your legs shutting over his hand while his fingers relentlessly pump into you. you’re speechless for a moment, a rhythm of moans leaving your saturated lips as he works you through your orgasam.

it’s almost impossible to look at him but you try, most because it still doesn’t feel real that he’s the one causing you this pleasure. he pulls his fingers out before you get overstimulated, licking off his fingers before placing one more kiss to your incredibly sensitive clit, causing you to jolt forward slightly.

when he brings his body back up to meet his eyes to your own you can’t help but ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind. “how are you so good at this?”

he breaths out a laugh, bringing his hands to your sides again. “i guess i’ve been wanting to do it for a while”

you kiss him, because you can now. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him in further, his body pressed against your own. you can’t help but feel the imprint on his pants place a gentle pressure on your core as he bites gently on your bottom lip. so you pull off. “it’s your turn to feel good yeah?”

he just nods, as if he wasn’t expecting you to return the favour so eagerly. you smile softly, flipping him over and wasting zero time reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

you brush over his messy hair that begins to cover his eyes, legs straddling his lap as you lean into him. “you’re so pretty like this” you whisper in his ear, running one hand down his exposed stomach while you place teasing kisses to his jaw.

it’s now obvious how inexperienced he really is based on his sensitivity to the touch you’re inflicting on his bare skin. you reach down further, his clothed dick filling your hand causing him to let out a small whimper.

you’re already impatient, fingers threatening to pull down the waistband of his pants. “can i?” you ask, mouth still incredibly close to his ear causing chills on his arms.

“please” he whines, a sound you’d really like to get used to.

you pull down the elastic band of his pants, along with his boxers, granting you full access. “tell me if anything i do isn’t okay, yeah? this needs to be as good for you as it was for me”

he nods again, your fingers placing a delicate touch to the veins that outline his length causing his to hiss. “can you use words please?” you ask, a smirk on your face at the control you know you have.

“yes its okay mmh” he moans out, your body shifting down on the bed slightly to place teasing kissing along his sensitivity.

“what do you want baby?” you ask, spit leaving your mouth and tricking down the tip of his dick, he’s a whole lot bigger than you were expecting.

his eyes shut closed, feathery eyebrows furrowing at the sensation of the warm liquid travelling down. “i want- fuck” you’re hand makes contact against, taking it in fully and stroking up and a teasingly slow pace. “i want whatever you’ll give me”

you smile again, lining your face with his as you cross your legs back over him. it would be really easy to sink down on him immediately, but not nearly as fun—instead you grab the base of his length, running the saturated tip through your folds.

you suppress your own moan, focusing on Matt’s pleasure. “you’ve been really good tonight for me” the sensation of his tip on your clit is addictive, you’re impressed he still hasn’t cum. “still wanna be a virgin?”

he shakes his head immediately. “please no”

“please what?” you tease, his tip lined up with your entrance but not daring to go deeper.

his hands make their way to your hips, fingers digging into the plush skin as he forces you down onto him. your hands fall to the bedding beside his head, elbows almost giving out as he thrusts repeatedly into you. “fuck Matt”

he slows for a moment, looking at you with a softness in his eyes. “this is okay right?”

you laugh in reply, rolling your hips onto him slightly, feeling just how well he fills you up. “this is more than okay, keep going please”

he takes that ask seriously, lifting his hips back up into your core as his tips hits your sweet spot.

it takes everything in him not to come right away, the teasing along with the mere feeling of giving you pleasure had already made him close, and now you’re on top of him with your walls closed around him.

he’s close, and you can tell.

“Matt baby you gotta hold it okay? focus on something else” you advise, brushing your thumb across the boys cheek as he bites his lip to suppress his constant moans.

Matt just nods, instead choosing to refocus on you. he reaches his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit again while the pace of his thrusts into you have you weak.

this refocusing on your pleasure has worked in his favour because now you’re close, his fingers toying with your clit while he continues to hit your sweet spot.

god he’s good.

his pace increases more, he’s now unable to hold back anymore, and you let him because you’re in the same position as him. “fuck i love you so much” he moans out.

you’re not sure how to take the sentence, you’re not even together and now he’s spewing out love confessions, but you also don’t disagree with his words, instead choosing to stay silent as your orgasam overtakes any thought you can muster up.

it’s not long before he’s there with you, accidentally releasing before thinking twice about what he’s doing. “fuck fuck sorry i uh-“

you laugh at his immediate fear. “i’m on birth control you’re okay” you reply out of breath, leaning down to kiss him once more for good measure. “i love you too by the way”

a/n: i hate the ending sm but we’re gonna ignore thattttt (please)

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo smut

[bonewreath]

smut! 18+ below, minors dni.

thinking about ellie accidentally sending you a video of her fingering herself.

the video preview is completely dark, so you have no clue what to expect when you click the play button. you assume it’s another one of her rants - lately she’s taken to sending you clips of herself complaining about her family, work, politics. she’s sent a few videos of her trying new foods while completely obliterated on an edible, too, which you’re kind of hoping for. her eyes look so pretty all droopy and red, and she has the cutest laugh when she’s high.

but oh, no. this is… nothing like that.

you’re lounging in bed, head propped up against a pillow, when you get the notification from ellie and click to your text thread. you hit play on the video, watching with a furrowed brow as the camera moves from darkness - the forest green fabric of ellie’s duvet, you realize - to reveal her room. and it’s a familiar sight; you’ve been there a hundred times. but that’s where the familiarity ends.

because this new camera angle shows ellie naked from the waist down.

she’s flushed, her cheeks tinged the faintest shade of pink. her chest rises and falls in a quick rhythm; the light catches on a smear of wetness on her inner thigh, and you realize with a flutter in your belly that she’d been going at it for a while before she’d pulled out the camera.

“okay, fuck,” ellie pants, her voice a bit tinny through the speakers of your cell phone. she lifts one muscled thigh to her bed, which she’s standing before - right in front of the camera. your mouth goes dry as your eyes flicker over her body: heather grey tank riding up her toned hips, the faintest sheen of sweat on her chest, her thigh flexing as she spreads herself in front of the camera.

“i got close beforehand so i wouldn’t… didn’t wanna be nervous,” she says, avoiding eye contact with her phone. “but i’m - wait. why the fuck am i talking? you’re not supposed to talk in these, are you?”

blood rushes into your cheeks, warming your face until you feel like your skin is about to burn off. you should probably stop watching, shouldn’t you? you should click out of the video, pretend you never opened it in the first place. this is clearly not for you to see.

but you can’t look away.

ellie reaches her hand between her legs, and your stomach warms with arousal. there’s a flutter between your legs that leaves you squeezing your thighs together, seeking pressure.

“oh god,” ellie mutters as her fingers play in her own pussy, the lewd, wet sounds echoing. she slips a finger inside of herself, then two, her eyes fluttering shut as a string of curses leaves her lips.

she starts to pump her fingers, the heel of her hand pressed to her clit, and your breath catches in your throat when she looks up at the camera. you know she’s not really looking at you this way, but you tense up regardless. the look in her eyes is sultry, lustful, hungry.

there’s a growing damp spot on your underwear.

ellie’s getting close; her brows are pinched together in concentration, and each of her moans is more ragged and high-pitched than the last. beneath the thin fabric of her tank, you see her abs tense with her impending orgasm. you bite your lip until you’re sure you taste blood.

she comes with a shuddering cry, bicep flexing as her hand stalls between her legs. strands of auburn hair, darkened with sweat, cling to her freckled forehead. she lowers her leg from the bed and stands upright again, still panting. she reaches for the camera and the video ends.

you’re still staring wide-eyed at your phone when a series of texts come through from ellie.

oh my god

please tell me you didn’t see that

holy fuck i’m an idiot

i’m so sorry

i did not mean to send that to you. holy shit i’m sorry

your chest tightens with sympathy - you can imagine how panicked ellie is on the other line, how utterly ruined her post-orgasm bliss must be.

you type out a quick response: it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?

finding a convenient place to prop up your phone, you hook your thumbs over your underwear and tug them off, leaning forward to press record on your phone.

read part two here!

#this one’s for the night crowd #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x reader smut #ellie x reader fic #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie fanfic #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams x you #my writing #kira writes

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Congrats on 1k! Absolutely love your work, especially the darker fics.

Can I request step-sis intersex!Nat walking in on reader as she's asleep and deciding that she's finally going to take her for herself? Nat starts eating reader out to get her wet and the reader moans Nat's name in her sleep, so Nat wakes her up so she can really enjoy it.

Thinking that maybe Nat ties the readers hands above her head, as Nat forces her huge cock inside the readers tiny body, creating a belly bulge. Finishing inside her to breed her and then making the reader cock-warm her so that she can stay full. Belly rubbing because Nat is obsessed with the sight of her cock inside her innocent little step-sis.

Kinks: bondage, breeding, dub-con that turns consensual, somnophilia, belly bulge, Daddy kink and thinking cock-warming too.

Thank you!

Closer

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!reader x step-sis!Nat

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Having your beloved step sister back home for the summer turned more pleasant than expected.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, DUB-con, but the reader is very into it, amab!Nat, dom!Nat, sub!reader, age gap (legal), taboo relationship, kinda mean Nat, tattooed Nat (Nat is just the stereotypical bad boy), innocent!reader, Daddy!kink, alcohol use, bondage, breeding kink, somnophila, cock warming, size kink?

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐀/𝐍: kisses from the hospital guys enjoy the first park of the 1k special I’ll post more requests soon. This request was really fun to write

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Natasha knew how wrong it was to feel that kind of way about her step sister, but she was only a human too. Ever since she had came to visit her father for this summer she couldn't help herself but see you in a different light.

Back when her dad first started to live with your mother, she only had eyes for the many girls tendering to her, who were in her grade or above. She never really noticed you, of course you were her annoying little step sister who could've guessed you'd turn into this?

You weren't innocent either, you were always found of Natasha. In your eyes she was the coolest person you'd know, with her blue tainted hair and fast cars, you were heart broken whenever you saw a different girl enter her room.

Natasha soon went away for college, meaning you'd only get to see her for the holidays which was still enough to keep you crushing on her. It was special that she visited this summer especially since you just turned 18.

This summer had been unusual hot for the colder climate of Ohio, but it's not like you were complaining to see Nat in all those wifebeaters and sport bras. She normally rummaged in the garden, laying at the pool, again in sports bras and swim trunks. It made your cheeks heat, your stomach feel weird, and every once in a while when you saw how she climbed out of the pool, the muscles under her wet skin flexing, it made you feel all itchy down there.

Another hot summer day, another day where you'd relax under the water sprinkler in your backyard, just like you did when you were a child. Except for a pair of eyes watching from the pool. Natasha Romanoff, your step- sister, whose eyes hid under her shades, watched every move of yours. She sat by the pool shirtless to "tan", Natasha never tanned, she had the skin colour of a porcelain doll and always used the highest sunscreen to not end up looking like a lobster. No, she was there to observe, not the local birds, or nature, no, you. How could anyone be so carless, she asked herself as she watched your white camisole top turn translucent.

Shortly after realising what she was doing she, or better what your view did to her prick, she looked back on her phone scrolling on a black screen to look less suspicious. But it's not like you would've noticed anyway, Natasha knew how innocent you were, how your mother had sheltered you in contrast to herself. God, get yourself together Natasha, she thought to herself. If she wanted she could've get a hook up here within the day, but it wouldn't help last time she tried she accidentally moaned your name while cumming. Something so utterly embarrassing the girl left immediately after.

"Natty" you ask in an innocent voice, every other person calling the other woman that wouldn't stand here today, but she let it slide. "What's up" She asked as her eyes wandered over your wet body to which your clothes clanged. Natasha never was a religious person but in this moment she thanked god for the invention of sunglasses.

"Can you get me towel from inside" you asked giving her your best bambi eyes. "Go get it yourself, I'm not your personal servant" She scoffed "Please, Tasha I'm all wet and I don't want it tripping on the floor board" She shook her head "You should've thought about that in the first place" She mumbled under her breath but still got up to get you your towel. She could never say no to one of your pleads.

"Thank you" you grinned and wrapped you up in one of this big fluffy towels. She smirked back at you her hands rubbing over your wet skin. "There you go sweetheart" She mumbled again feeling a tingle in her pants when her hands touched you.

"Where's mom?" You asked stepping into the large living area you parents had. "Out for dinner with my dad" She remarked not even looking up from the TV where some, for me, unimportant soccer game was running. "Why are you still standing there?" She asked in a dismissive tone "They'll be gone the whole night" Oh, the whole night just you and your step sister together, great. Nat chugged more of her beer side eyeing you to leave her alone, of course she wanted you close, closer than close, but you couldn't know that yet. Not to mention that with the more of the bitter liquid she had the less she could control her urges. 

It wasn't that wrong, she tried to tell herself, millions of guys before her had fucked their step sisters right? Eventually you opened your mouth again "I'll head to bed now" you started and only earned a little hum from her and some mumbled words you didn't understand before slipping on her beer bottle again. 

Her team lost, of course it did, Natasha turned the TV off rubbing her eyes before too going to her bed room but not without making another stop at your room. She slipped though the crack in the door closing it gently before taking a seat next you on the soft cushion of the bed. She always did that, making sure you were save and sound but tonight it was different. She was frustrated, and horney, one more than the other. 

"You're so pretty" she mumbled being lost deep in the haze of the alcohol and lust, she knew you couldn't hear her nor feel but she still gently wiped some lost hair behind your ear. You squirmed under her feather like touch. You rolled onto your back the blanket slipping from your body exposing your topless body. Fuck, you had forgotten to wear a shirt to bed, or had you? Nat saw it as an invitation to taste your sweet body. 

She stood up pulling her hoodie off to reveal a hard set of muscles covered in tattoos, she strangled your smaller body kissing the valley between your breasts before turning to kiss down your soft stomach. You squirmed again your hands trying to find something to grip on, Nat caught your hands bringing them above your head before using her abandoned top to tie your hands to the head board of your framed bed. 

Finally she could turn to your soaked panties tugging them off your legs, your step sister placed both of your legs on her shoulders giving you better access to your sleeping form. She kissed your pubic bone before taking a deep sniff of your glossy cunt. "let my taste you baby girl" She groaned before licking over your weeping pussy, you tasted fantastic better than any girl she had before you. 

Your clit was pulsing in need to be touched, standing proud from his hood Nat couldn't resist tasting the forbidden fruit. When she took your bubble of nerves in her mouth she couldn't believe her ears. "Nat" came a sob from your throat she let she teeth scrape over it just to check she wasn't completely mad "Natasha" now it was a full blown moan, she smiled getting more and more bold with her movements. 

She kept on licking away on your cunt and thankfully to her many years of experience with the girls in college she had you trembling towards the edge within minutes. She took your clit in her mouth again this time biting down gently, to wake you from your slumber you thought to yourself. 

"I- what" poor innocent you were to confused to even grasped what was happening to you you were lost in a haze of mind numbing pleasure until you tried to find to source of it. "Nat-?" you were interrupted by an almost pornographic moan breaking free from your throat. You winded your body on the bed tugging on the restrains before climaxing under her tongue. She made you ride out your orgasm before hushing your quiet sobs. "You're mine baby girl" she kissed your pelvis bone. "Nat we can't" you mumbled "No one needs to find out" She reassured you "Just say no and we'll forget a bout this all, but something tells me, little girl, you want me just as much as I want you"

"You’re right" you mumbled under your breath making Nat smirk she stood up again tugging off your boxers to reveal a dick of a size you had never seen before. Of course you didn't have much experience but she looked inhuman. "Nat it's not-" She hushed you "call me daddy" Instinctively you closed your legs making nat chuckle. "Too big" You mewled again "Oh bunny, I'll make it fit, daddy would never hurt her little girl" she reassured you her hands trailed down her body brushing over the small patch of her which made up her happy trail. She pried your legs open before pushing them to your chest. 

She alined herself with you before slowly pushing inside your small hole, bringing tears to your eyes. It felt like her dick suffocated by your tight velvet walls, when she finally did bottom you out she knew it was heaven of earth. She admired the small bulge forming on your lower stomach rubbing over it in an awe. 

She waited for you to at least try to adjust before setting a rapid pace giving you no breaks, it felt like she was trying to compare her performance with a machine. I string of moans and whispers left your throat as her hips kept pistoling into your tight heat. 

"Fuck" She groaned in between thrusts "I'm gonna fucking breed this little pussy. Wouldn't you like that daddy making you a mommy?" You were too dumbed down to even comprehend her words  and the self assigned title made you see stars. "Answer daddy" She commented slapping your tits which bounced with ever vigour truths of her hips. "Yes daddy" you mewl in ecstasy "make me your mommy" You moaned making your step sister grin. 

With a few more truths you were both on the edge of ecstasy, especially you saw the stars already. "Cum" she commanded "Fucking cum with me" another sting of curse words left her mouth before releasing her white juices inside of you triggering your own orgasm. After leaving your high she gently rubbed your belly again not dreaming of pulling out from your walls. "mine" she mumbled upon seeing the clear bugle she had formed in your stomach. She freed your hands kissing each of your wrists which made you giggle at the romantic gesture, as if she hadn't just fucked you into oblivion. 

She moved you to lay on top of her making you trace the fine lines of her tattoos, she was your step sister but from this night on she was much more than that. 

:)

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #lesbian smut #lesbian #marvel woman x reader #marvel smut

[shotmrmiller]

soulmate au part 1

john price x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

unedited, forgive my mistakes.

since you were born, your world has been grey. you never thought anything of it, until at school, they started teaching you colours. the only ones in the room that could see more than just different shades of grey, apart from the teacher, were identical twins.

weird.

you went home and asked your parents.

"we are born missing half of ourselves. we have a fated one, and when you meet them, your world will look the way it was meant to."

oh. but... "in class, there were twins that could see colour. what about them?"

they look surprised for a second until your dad softly explains. "in rare instances, the soulmate bond will be platonic. which makes sense in this case, because twins grow up with a connection regular people like us will never understand."

you nod and lower your gaze to look at your shoes. you wonder if the person meant for you is interested in junie b. jones books like you are.

-

in high school, you crush on this pretty girl— a cheerleader. her hair is long and beautiful, her face is small and round, and she's so kind. just your type.

but no colour stains your vision, so you burrow your emotions deep and mourn the loss of what could've been.

-

in college, one of your friends ask you if you've met your soulmate yet.

"no, not yet," you lament. what she says after freezes the blood in your veins.

"my mom knew someone whose soulmate was already dead before they had even been born," she comments while stabbing a grape tomato with her fork. "it was really tragic, because she'll never know what it's like to know a love that has no equal."

your heart is in your throat, and you find it hard to swallow the food in your mouth.

what if your soulmate is already dead? oh, god. you might just throw up. your friend doesn't seem to notice the change in your demeanor and continues to babble carelessly about how she knew someone that knew someone who's soulmate had turned out to be a murderer.

oh my fucking god.

you quickly run to the bathroom and throw up your lunch.

how cruel is the universe? to have no control over who is meant to be for you.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean against the stall of the bathroom. you should've known that this soulmate business was too good to be true.

cupping your hands, you rinse the taste of bile out of your mouth before walking back to your friend who stayed in her seat.

"jesus, you look terrible, you alright?" she asks.

running your fingers through your hair, you huff. "i've certainly been better. just got a bit nauseous, nothing serious. maybe it's a stomach bug."

"oooh, you better not be pregnant! what of your dreams of working in the medical field?"

you giggle at her response. "that'd be impossible unless i'm the virgin mary."

she gapes comically then leans in and whispers, "you're lying! don't tell me you haven't dated anyone just because they weren't your soulmate."

you shrug, and keep your eyes fixed on your half-eaten plate of food. "i don't really wanna talk about it, if that's alright with you. besides, you've got bigger things to worry about, like the upcoming exam for mr. richardson."

slapping a hand to her forehead, she exclaims, "oh, shit! i totally forgot! shit!"

you watch her inhale the rest of her salad and toss her trash before waving goodbye and sprinting toward the library.

with a sigh, you look down at your food. grey. lifeless. shaking your head, you pick up your plate and toss it in the bin.

you decide to focus solely on your studies. you have dreams of being a doctor and pining after someone you haven't even met yet would only serve as a distraction.

--

your white coat grazes your calves as you walk toward your new patient. standing outside the room, you pick up the clipboard.

Price, John. 34, Active Military.

he's the head of the task force! god, you've only heard stories of them from the other medics on base who have met them, so to finally come face to face with the man, the myth, the legend? you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your scrubs and clear your throat.

be professional, be professional. he's just another patient, it's no big deal.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a second before twisting the knob with a shaky hand. you nervously keep your eyes on the clipboard as you walk in.

"good morning, captain price."

"mornin', doc," he rumbles.

oh, his deep voice just might be the end of you.

"you don't sound all that happy to be here, captain," you tease while flipping through his medical history papers.

he lets out a low chuckle, and you squeeze your thighs together at the sound. delicious.

"nothin' personal, doc. just don't like bein' here, you understand."

lightly laughing at his joke, you finally steel your nerves and look up at him.

only to have your vision bleed in something you don't understand. is that colour? is this what colour looks like?

the clipboard drops, clattering to the floor. john— being the courteous gentleman that he is— quickly kneels to grab it and lifts his head as he hands it to you.

he freezes in place, the clipboard slipping from his hands as he stares at you.

you thickly swallow, and dumbly question, "do you...has your....colour? can you see colour?"

unblinking, john's eyes are fixated on you as he remains silent.

your eyes dart around to take in his features. his brightly-coloured eyes are framed by lines that hint at his age, his strong jaw adorned by a mutton-chop beard. his nose is specked with a beauty mark.

"what colour are your eyes, captain?" you softly ask.

he closes his mouth and takes in a sharp breath. "i've been told they're blue."

"blue," you smile. the eyes of your soulmate are blue.

but then, your delighted smile melts off your face, in horror.

there's a shiny band on his finger. he's married.

john price, your soulmate, is fucking married.

your vision distorts with the tears that threaten to spill and bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. it feels like there are shards of glass in your lungs, cutting you open with each quivering breath you take. your pain is red-hot, searing under your skin, flowing through your veins like molten lead.

john knows exactly what you're looking at.

"love—" he starts but you cut him off swiftly.

"don't. you don't owe me anything, captain. uhm, but uh... maybe it's best that we switch your doctors, yeah? conflict of interest, and all that."

you all but run away, away from that room, from him.

how terribly unlucky.

you head towards your office, which is down the hall, and slam the door closed. only then, do you cry, and mourn what should've been.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #john price x f reader #john price x reader #john price #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain price