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kookslastbutton · 2 months

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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

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#yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts au #fic:whatlovefeelslike #kookslastbutton

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Text

Little Shadow

Pairing: Halsin x Half-Elf!Reader (fem intended)

Word Count: 6.9K (oops)

Summary: You can always count on Halsin to heal the group when needed, going out of his way to make sure you're in the best care. And he's always been a flirt, but that's all it is, right?

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, mentions of injuries, blood, bruises (they're adventurers they're gonna get hurt sometimes), p in v, fingering, oral (fem receiving), mentions of Halsin having the potential to shift during sexual acts (iykyk)

A/N: thank you so so much to @banana-cheese-cake for beta reading for me and letting me talk about this so much ❤️ Also Happy Easter to those who celebrate ❤️

Halsin had always been impressed with the way you fought, the way you trained. You were so meticulous in the tiny details, the things no one else in your little band of misfits would notice. But it was those details that kept you alive, kept you the least harmed of your entire camp. Most of the time.

The way you danced with your blade was unlike anything he'd ever seen before - and he'd been around for a couple centuries, so he'd seen his fair share of sword wielders and dagger throwers and magic casters. But you - you moved with such fluidity and lethal steadiness in your swings.

The strength he'd seen in you while traveling with you these past weeks was something he marveled at. Especially with how young you were.

You'd never told him directly, but from what he could gather, you were a half elf, which meant you had at least another century before you started to appear "aged" as the humans called it. That also meant that you had unbounded potential to grow in your skills. Though, he wasn't sure how much more you could learn.

There was a rustle in the woods next to the camp, pulling him from his thoughts of you as he looked up. You'd gone out this morning with Karlach, Astarion, and Shadowheart to scout and clear the roads to move your camp closer to the city, so he figured you were finally returning. But you were making so much noise. You were usually quiet on your return to not startle those who stayed behind or attract any unwanted attention.

As you barreled through the brush, Shadowheart limply hanging between you and Astarion and Karlach protecting your backs, Halsin's heart plummeted.

You were covered in blood and your knees were shaking as the two of you dragged Shadowheart through the camp. Halsin ran for you, coming to a stop in front of you and taking the girl from your and Astarion's arms.

He took Shadowheart to her tent, laying her down and beginning to heal what wounds he could see. You'd followed him, though he could sense the exhaustion pulling your body down as your feet stumbled after him. He watched as you began removing her armor, tugging the pieces off of her with shaky hands.

He'd never seen your hands shake. He'd never seen you so calmly distraught.

"What happened?" He asked, moving to a wound in the girl's abdomen. A gnarly gouge, likely from a hook horror or a gnoll. Shadowheart's body shifted as you tugged her boots off, throwing them in the pile of armor in the corner.

"Gnolls," Your response was clipped, as usual, eyes locked onto the several cuts and gashes along your friend's skin. "I tried to protect her, but there were too many." He tried to show his surprise at the continued explanation. You usually stuck to one or two word answers around him, no matter how hard he tried to get more. "We almost didn't make it out with her."

He hummed in response, watching as the wound stitched itself back together, the discoloration beginning to leave her skin. Once all of Shadowheart's armor was removed, you stood, mumbling about how you'd return quickly and you left.

You were back only seconds later with a rag and a bucket, and you began cleaning the blood from your companions skin in the areas he's already healed.

The two of you worked in silence until you were sure he'd healed every little scratch on Shadowheart before you both walked out of her tent, allowing her to rest until she woke on her own. You sighed and rolled your neck, your shoulders drooping as if you had weights tied to your arms pulling them down.

"Are you injured?" Halsin asked, stepping toward you, but keeping his hands to himself. Through all the blood on you, he couldn't tell if any of it was yours, and if it was, where it came from.

"I'll be fine, go help Astarion and Karlach," You demanded, your eyes looking past him at the setting sun.

He moved to argue that you also needed attending to when you held up your hand, pushing it into his chest and giving him a weak shove.

"Halsin," You whispered his name and his mind froze as you looked up at him, "Please."

He let loose a breath before dipping his chin in a nod. The corner of your lips twitched up before falling back into a hard line.

"Thank you." He watched as you turned from him, heading for your own tent as you began undoing the buckles of your leather armor, preparing to remove it.

He'd do as you asked - he would go check on the others, make sure they were alright. Then, he'd check on you. He'd even have Astarion hold you down so he could heal you if he needed to.

~~~

You huffed as you dropped your bloodied leather armor on the bank of the river near camp, kneeling down with a grunt as you began rinsing the blood from your clothing. The water of the river began to darken, reddening as you held your shirt in the stream, attempting to push out the blood before it dried. You were still covered in it, but armor was never cheap, and you weren't one to parade around in bloodied clothes any longer than necessary.

Once you were satisfied with how clean you were able to get your clothes, you hung them on a tree branch hanging over the embankment to dry before removing your undergarments. The blood had soaked through to those as well. When they were hung next to your armor, you stepped into the river, hissing as the cold water bit at your ankles.

It was a rather deep river, the water coming up to the bottom of your ribs once you reached the middle. You tried to scrub as you went, watching as it flaked off your skin and disappeared into the stream, revealing injuries you hadn't dared to acknowledge until now.

There were gashes on your legs and arms, bruises littering your body, more coming to light as you scrubbed the blood and mud away.

"Will you allow me to heal you now?" Halsin's voice sounded from behind you and you fought against the embarrassment of him catching you naked in the river as you folded your arms over your breasts.

"I'm fine," you looked over your shoulder at him, the worry evident in his eyes as he stopped right at the water's edge.

"You're bleeding."

"I said I'm fine." You growled out, watching as his lips pressed into a hard line and he squatted down, picking up a twig to fiddle with as he looked at you.

"Why won't you let me help?"

"Because I didn't ask you for it." You scowled, turning away from him and lowering yourself into the stream, holding in the hiss as the water rushed by, cleaning the cuts and scrapes along your arms. Before he could respond, you dunked your head, letting the cold water run through your hair, the current pulling as much of the blood and dirt out as it could without you scrubbing it.

When you emerged, wiping the water from your face, Halsin had moved.

He was maybe two feet from you, standing in the river still clothed, the water up to his hips and his trousers soaking it up, clinging to his muscled thighs. That worried look still plagued his face as he looked down at you, his brows pinched together and a heavy frown on his lips.

"Why can I not offer my help to you?" He asked, his voice a low rumble. You fought the rush of nerves that flooded your system, using the day's anger to push them back down into the pit in your chest they'd crawled out from.

"Because I am not in need of it." You sneered. You just wanted to be left alone, left to wallow in your self hatred and frustrations. Left to tend to yourself. To suffer. "I can take care of myself," You held his gaze with a glare, "Always have."

"But you do not need to," He muttered, taking a small step toward you, "You are allowed to lean on your friends for assistance."

You scoffed, looking away from him. "It was that type of thinking that cost us today."

"I believe it is what saved you today."

"You weren't there." The sound of Shadowheart's scream as the gnolls ripped her open would not be a sound you ever forgot. Or forgave yourself for. "They relied on me, leaned on me, to lead the way, to find a way to win and I fucked up." The anger bubbled in your chest, simmering as your eyes grew blurry, "I got cocky and moved too far too fast. A small group of beasts circled around to Shadowheart. I failed them."

You were waiting for him to agree, to shout at you, to yell. But there was only silence. Hell, you weren't even sure he was still standing there as you continued, "I failed them, and I almost failed in getting them out. They relied on me and I let them down." Your hands came up to your shoulders, grazing over the injuries that had clotted there.

"Is that why you refuse to let me heal you?" Halsin asked, the sounds of splashing water telling you he was moving. He appeared in front of you, kneeling down and letting the river wash over him without so much a shiver. "Because you think you deserve it? As some sort of punishment?"

You held his stare, your vision blurring as your anger bubbled in your throat.

"Yes, you made a mistake, everyone does," He closed the distance between the two of you, but still not touching you, "but you still all made it out. You relied on each other to escape alive. You got them out." Your brows pinched as he spoke, "I talked with Karlach and Astarion, they told me how you fought tooth and nail to get to them, to help them.They credit their survival to you."

"They're fools to do so," You whispered and he shook his head.

"They are not," He stated, "You saved them today. You took care of them," He reached a hand out for you, waiting for you to take it, "Now let yourself be cared for. Let's not add to your collection of scars."

You took a deep breath, trying to will the tears in your eyes to vanish before they fell. The words wobbled as they left your lips, "You're not going to leave me alone until you heal me, are you?"

"If you truly wish for me to leave you alone, I'll go," His hand was still held between you, open and waiting. "But I don't believe you deserve more scars marring your perfect skin, or any sort of punishment."

You took a deep breath, blaming the shuddering in your breath on the chill of the water as you lifted your hand out of the water and rested it in his own, palm up so he could see the cut there. "Okay."

"Your skin is like ice," His warm calloused hand wrapped around yours as it glowed, your skin stitching back together, "Should we move to a tent?"

Before you could deny him, your body shook with a harsh shiver running through your spine and you sighed. "Yes, please."

He looked back to your clothes hanging over the tree, still dripping pink water. "I'll go get you a towel and some dry clothes."

~~~

You sat in Halsin's tent, your damp hair clinging to your skin, his extra shirt drowning you. He hadn't wanted to go through your things, so he'd grabbed you some of his clothes and you didn't argue as you'd slipped them over your head at the river bank. Your legs were bare, his shirt practically a dress on you, and it took all of his will power not to stare when you shifted where you sat across from him, the fabric of the shirt riding up your thighs. Your thighs that were burnt and bruised and sliced.

He’d decided when finding you in that river, injuries on display, the blood leaking from your skin washed away by the freezing water, that he was going to leave tonight and let the bear inside him hunt down that pack of gnolls.

He cleared his throat before gesturing to - well to all of you. “Where would you like me to start?”

Your eyes, heavy with exhaustion, lifted to his. Your skin had grown paler by the hour and your body had become sluggish. He’d have picked a starting point himself but he knew not to rush or push you.

You gestured to your arms as you held them out before him, palms up showing him the clotted slashes on your forearms.

Halsin took your arms in each of his hands, the area glowing as he healed you. The next hour went on like that, you silently giving him parts of you to heal and him healing them without hesitation. By the time he’d finished, your normal tone had mostly returned to your face, but you were mostly asleep.

Healing was not only tiring for the healer, but exhausting for the injured. He’d noticed your grit teeth, your subtle controlled breathing as your skin closed and knitted back together. He couldn’t blame you for slipping into a deep slumber as he finished the last wound on your shoulder, gently removing his hands so as to not wake you.

Seeing you so relaxed, so calm, it was new to him. You’d always had a stoney expression, your lips set in a thin line and your brows settled almost permanently in a subtle scowl. But the lack of anger and sorrow in your feature now - well he wasn’t sure which version he was in love with more.

Halsin pulled a blanket over you, stepping out of the tent to let you sleep. The rest of the camp had mostly retired for the night as well, only Astarion reading in his tent with the flap open.

The vampire looked up at him with those red eyes, nodding in acknowledgment before returning his attention to whatever text was in his hands.

The Druid slipped into the woods, walking for a while before he deemed he was far enough away. Far enough to not wake the camp, before he shifted, letting the bear begin its hunt.

~~~

Leaves rustling nearby woke you, your eyes opening to see the unfamiliar inside of a tent. Your brows pinched as you sat up, a groan escaping your chest at the effort. Your body was exhausted, and as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you started to remember what had happened. How you got to be in this tent, in the shirt that hung from your frame.

You remembered who put you there.

Glancing around the tent for Halsin, you found you were alone. You didn't want to be the reason he didn't get to sleep tonight so you stood quickly, climbing for the entrance flap, reaching to push it open, when it slipped from your fingers.

You peered up into the shadow looming over the entrance, and your body prepared for a fight. Their features were in heavy shadow as the campfire lit them from behind and there was a familiar iron rich smell coming from them. Blood. You just hoped whoever this was hadn't gotten to anyone else in your camp yet, that they were still alive.

Your muscles tensed and you took a breath to shout, to wake up your companions if they were alive and warn them. But the figure held up a hand, his voice a low rumble that calmed your nerves instantly.

"It's just me," Halsin said, slowly lowering himself into the tent, "I did not mean to startle you."

You backed up, allowing him into the tent as your eyes traveled down his shirt, the red splotches hiding in the shadows. When you looked back up, you saw he had already figured out what you were looking at, and he could read the question on your lips.

"It's not mine," He whispered, "I'm alright."

"Whose is it?" You demanded, watching as he rummaged around for clean clothes. He pulled out a new pair of loose trousers.

"The gnolls." He grunted, standing to leave. Your hand shot out to his, gripping his large fingers before he could leave.

"You went after them?"

He looked down at you, a slight smirk on his lips before his fingers squeezed yours back and he said, "Of course I did," as if it was the only logical thing for him to have done in the first place. His hand slipped from yours and just like that, he had slipped back out of the tent.

You tried to follow him, but when you ripped the flap open, he was gone. You would have settled back into the warmth of the tent, shut that flap against the chill that pricked at your skin. But you stood, exiting the tent, and followed him down to the river.

If he was going to wash up, that's where he'd go, unless he really wanted to hike another 3 miles to the next lake, which judging by the exhaustion in his eyes when he'd come for clean pants, you assumed he wouldn't. You hadn't bothered with shoes, and you cursed yourself for it as you tried to step around jutting up sticks and rocks that could slice your feet.

Soon enough, the moonlight reflecting off of the river's surface was visible through the trees and you could hear the splashing of the water. Pushing the branches of the trees away, you finally broke free of the forest line and had river rocks beneath your feet.

Halsin was in the middle of the river, scrubbing blood from his hair, just as you had done only hours before.

"You'll catch a cold out here like that," He called to you, turning around to face you.

"Why did you go after the gnolls?" You asked, crossing your arms across your chest, the movement reminding you how bare your legs were when the shirt shifted across your thighs. You tried not to bring attention to it, ignoring the chills that ran up your skin.

He looked down at the water as he rinsed his hands, "Does it matter?"

"That depends entirely on how you answer the question."

He glanced at you for a moment before dunking his head under the water, only to come right back up to the surface only a moment later. He sighed as he walked to the embankment, his dry pants hanging up on that same tree your earlier clothes still hung from.

"Then it does not matter," He said, climbing out of the river, the water sliding down his chest, to his stomach, to his - you averted your eyes. You should've assumed he was naked, and you weren't sure why it made your heart start racing the way it did as you suddenly found the boulder next to you very interesting.

"It does to me," You muttered, not expecting him to have heard you, to have been trying to hear you over the sounds of the river.

Once his trousers were on, he turned to you, walking to stand at your side. "Would it be hard for you to believe that I did it because I wanted to?"

You turned from the boulder, glancing at his feet to make sure he was clothed before your eyes trailed up his body, landing on his face. "You wanted to go on a midnight gnoll hunting spree?"

He grunted in agreement, his head inclining to the side. "Is that hard to believe?"

You scoffed, "Yes, actually. Especially because you went alone."

"I can handle a pack of gnolls." He said the words with such certainty, his voice low and rough, it had your stuttering to respond.

"It was reckless," You meekly muttered back, "You could've been hurt."

"But I am not." Neither one of you had moved since he came to stand beside you, both of you remaining a mere few inches from the other.

"But you could have been."

"Is that worry I sense in you, little shadow?" The nickname wasn't new, it was something he used to recall how you seemed to slip between darkness going undetected when tracking down leads or targets, but it also wasn't commonly used. He liked to use it when teasing you, flirting with you. But you were in no mood to flirt, and the only way to get him to see that, was to be honest.

"Yes, it is." You stated, and the slight smirk that had grown on his lips fell as his eyes widened. "Why did you think it was a good idea to go hunt down those beasts without the rest of us, in the middle of the night? Hm?"

He blinked once, twice, before sighing and looking at the ground beneath his feet, his hands finding their way to his hips. "I went because they harmed you," he said, and your world stilled.

"What?" You asked, willing him to look at you again. He wiped a hand down his face before looking at you, his eyes full of nerves that he kept well hidden.

"They hurt you," he sighed, reaching for your hands, "They almost killed you, and it angered me. It angered the beast that lives in my soul. I had to do something, and taking out on them the anger they caused was the only thing to do."

Something in your chest melted at the conviction in his words, the utter dedication. You wanted to wrap your arms around him, to tell him he didn't need to do that, to fight for you. But in your experience, people only did these sorts of things when they wanted something in return.

Your fingers tightened around his own, squeezing them as you took a breath, pushing down the swell in your heart at the look in his eyes.

"What do I owe you?" You asked, trying not to cringe at the confusion in his pinched brows.

"Why would you owe me?"

"Because that's how the world works," you muttered, "Everything has a currency, whether it's gold, silver or favors. So what do I owe you? "

"You owe me nothing," his voice rumbled through your bones to your core, "I did not do this to gain a favor from you. I did this," He stepped closer, his breath mingling with yours, "because the thought of those beasts getting away with harming you is not something I can peacefully live with."

"Why?" You read the confusion on his face and asked again, "Why? Why am I so important?"

His hands dropped yours as they cupped your jaw, those large thumbs stroking across your cheeks and his fingers settled on your neck.

"Because you are magnificent," His eyes were darting around your face, taking in every little detail while you allowed him to be this close, "You are the leader of this camp, everyone here follows you more than they follow themselves. You are the heart of this adventure we are on. You are fancied by everyone here."

"I doubt that."

"Well," He said, "I know I do."

"No you don't." You whispered and his face pinched. "You don't, you might think you do, but you don't."

"Why don't I?" He asked, refusing to step away from you, your face still in his hands.

You refused to look at him, your eyes locked on the water of the river just behind him. "You can't," You whispered, "Anyone who ever has ends up dead, if they don't leave me first."

His face crumbled at that, hearing the ache of the past years of your life in your words.

"Why would they leave you?" He asked, his voice barely audible over the river.

You told him. You rambled about the horrible childhood you had, the early death of your human father, and the resentment in your elven mother when you were left on her doorstep. How you raised yourself, hunted for yourself, since she refused to have any hand in the way you were raised, including feeding you. You told him how you ran away when you were just a teenager and had been on your own ever since, for nearly two decades.

Continuing your endless babble, you told him about the times you'd been captured by strange monsters throughout your travels, trying to leave out the details of what happened when you were held captive, but you knew he could piece it together. You explained how these things happening had made you cold, and shut off from the world, damaged, when you were silenced by something soft pressing against your lips.

Your eyes were wide when Halsin pulled away just a second later, his lips parted as he looked at you. There were a million things either of you could've said, but your mind was blank now. The lingering pressure of his lips on yours distracting you from the wetness you now felt on your face.

When did you start crying?

You tore your gaze from his lips up to his eyes, where they watched you with such gentleness it frightened you. The want - no, the need - to have his lips on yours again was the only thing you could focus on now that you'd had a taste, and you would jump up to take it for yourself if the intensity in his gaze didn't root you to your spot.

"I know what I enjoy," He whispered, leaning down so his lips brushed against yours as he spoke, his breath fanning your face as his wet hair fell around you, "and I know what I want."

He didn't close the distance, instead letting your lips faintly brush while you tried to say something, anything.

"And if you'll let me," He continued, "I'd like to enjoy what I want for as long as you'll allow."

"Why don't you just take it?" You whispered.

"I'm waiting for your permission."

Silence settled over the two of you for a moment, the only noise between you being your mingling breaths. You took the moment to consider it, letting him have his way with you. You hadn't planned on fucking any of your traveling companions, attempting to keep it professional between all of you, but you couldn't deny that you'd at least thought about it. Not just with Halsin either, but that was something for another day.

You'd thought about his hands on your skin, how large and safe they'd feel, how his fingers would feel in your cunt, in your mouth, wrapped around your neck. All you had to do was say yes, and he'd give it to you.

So you swallowed your nerves, your voice barely audible as you whispered, "You have it."

Halsin instantly closed that tiny fraction of distance, pressing his lips against yours. One of his hands left your face, going down preferring to pull your hip, tugging you into him as his lips parted, his tongue brushing against yours. You swallowed his groan as his large hand pushed the edge of your shirt up so he could cup your ass, grabbing all he could and squeezing.

His right hand left your face, reaching down to mirror his left and he tugged up, grunting what sounded like "jump" between kisses. Your hands wound around his neck as you did your best to hop, letting him catch you and pull you up his body, pinning you between his chest and the smooth boulder at your back.

The hair on his stomach brushed against the insides of your thighs, tickling in the best way, the pressure from his stomach pushing into your cunt, only separated by the thin fabric of your panties that were already wet.

Halsin's lips left your mouth and he trailed open kisses down your neck and what he could reach of your chest, biting and sucking as he went, lighting your nerves on fire at the same time. HIs hands easily pushed you further up the boulder, bringing your dripping core up to his view and putting your legs over his shoulders.

His eyes were hungry as he glanced between you and that soaked spot in your panties. His lips attached to your leg, working their way up your inner thigh, each bite he climbed higher earning more and more desperate whines from you. He chuckled at the noises escaping your throat as he looked up at you, his eyes glazed over with lust, but also so so clear at the same time.

"Is this okay?" You'd never heard his voice so rough, so raw as he looked up at you. "We can always go somewhere more comfortable."

Something in your chest melted at the concern in his words. Even when his hands were shaking and his pupils were blown, your comfort was priority. But you didn't care if he took you in his tent or a bed or against this damn boulder, you just needed to feel him.

"It matters not to me," you were breathless as you told him, "I just want you to show me how much you say you want me."

He smirked at that, one of his hands dragged over your skin as he slid it under your shirt, reaching to grab your breast as his other pulled your panties aside.

He laid his tongue flat against your aching cunt and licked a languid stripe up, flicking it across your clit before going back for more. Your hands shot to his hair, still wet from the river, carding through it and gripping it at the roots. His hand on your breast pulled and played with your nipple, the sensation caused by his rough fingers shooting through you to your core, soaking his face even more.

You watched him from up on that rock, his face buried in you, his eyes closed as if he were savoring it. A moan vibrated from him, through your cunt that left you gnawing on your lip to keep quiet. You weren't close to the campsite, but who knew what or who else was out in these woods.

Your breath started to quicken, your grip on his hair tightening further, and his eyes opened to look at you. You could barely see the hazel in his eyes as he watched you panting and writhing above him. The pressure building was familiar and you knew it wouldn't take long for you to snap if he kept going the way he was

It seemed he knew too.

Because suddenly, his mouth was off of you and your skin was met with the chilled air.

"Can't have you cumming just yet," He declared, his hand leaving your chest and trailing down to your cunt, lightly dragging through the folds and slick. Your hips bucked into his hand and he chuckled, "Eager?"

Your skin heated at his comment and how focused on your dripping entrance he was. When your breathing had somewhat evened out, two of his fingers circled your cunt, spreading your slick around and around before he finally looked up at you, and slid them in.

Your mouth opened in a strangled moan that you had fought to not let out, the stretch just from his fingers alone enough to make you dizzy with want. They slid all the way in before they curled, stroking that perfect spot to make your back arch and your moan grew louder.

Halsin grinned, "Oh I love that sound you make." He angled his head down again, watching his fingers get swallowed by your cunt over and over again as he pumped them in and out. "And I love watching my fingers disappear inside you."

His head dipped lower, and his lips wrapped around your clit, his tongue tracing tight circles over it in time with his fingers. That pressure from earlier began building again, quicker this time as you struggled to stay somewhat quiet. You tugged on his hair and your hips rocked, grinding into his mouth and fingers, his name a whisper on your lips.

"Don't stop," You panted, release so close your muscles began tightening, "please don't stop."

He groaned into you, the vibrations shooting through everyone of your nerves and your head fell back with a soft thud against the rock. The band that had tightened in your core was so close to snapping, to sending you over the edge.

But before you could go over that edge, Halsin released your clit and pulled his fingers from you, chuckling at the truly pathetic whine that left your lips, tears starting to gather in your lashes at the sudden loss.

"Don't worry," he muttered the words into the skin of your thigh before moving both your legs off his shoulders, wrapping them around his waist, "You'll get to cum," He leaned forward, catching your lips with his, and you moaned at the taste of yourself, "I promise."

He wrapped his hands around your thighs, telling you to wrap your arms around his neck and he picked you up from the boulder. He didn't take you far, just turned and leaned down, laying you on the river bank before sitting up, his hands going to the ties on his trousers.

"I've dreamed of this since I met you," he declared as he untied his trousers. Your eyes traveled down his chest to the large bulge he was working to free, and your cunt clenched around nothing in anticipation. "I've been wanting to take you for weeks."

A shiver of excitement raced down your spine, "So have I."

His eyes darkened at that, his hands quickening their pace and he finally removed his pants. He reached for your hips, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing them to the side. He grabbed the edge of your shirt, but stopped, looking at you.

"It's a bit cold out, do you want to leave this on?" Your heart melted at his concern, at his ability to still worry even when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

"I want to feel all of you against me," you said, a thought taking over your mind, "but I also want to be on top. I want to ride you."

He grinned down at you as you shifted to sit up, "You can do whatever you wish to me."

You smiled, crawling over his legs as he sat and lay on the ground, sighing when your legs settled on either side of his hips, your core hovering over his aching cock. He slid his hands under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head, tossing it to the pile of clothes before his hands dragged down your shoulders and over your breasts before resting against your hips.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he said, his thumbs stroking circles into your hips as your hand reached down, wrapping around his cock. He groaned at your touch, his head tipping back as you stroked it up and down.

You angled your hips and lined him up with your cunt, swiping him through your folds a few times, relishing in how his grip tightened on your hips. You went to sink on to him, to finally have him inside you, when he startled.

"Wait." His eyes snapped open. "I have to tell you something first." Your brows pinched, but you let his cock go, and you settled on top of it, sliding your hips back and forth over it while you waited for whatever he had to tell you. "Fuck, you're not gonna make this easy are you?" He smirked.

You shook your head, swallowing your moans as you waited.

"If I get too worked up, I have a. . . a chance to shift," He said, eyes avoiding yours. You angled your head to the side, as your heart stuttered at the sudden anxiety rippling off of him. You'd never seen him so nervous, he was always so sure of himself, of what he did.

"You mean," You whispered, "You could change into a bear?" There was shame in his eyes as he nodded.

"I understand if you change your mind about this, I won't be hurt." He still wasn't meeting your eyes as he spoke, his hands unnaturally still before they started to pull away from you.

Your hands snapped out to grab his wrists, pulling his hands back to your skin as you lifted your hips up. His eyes finally lifted to yours in surprise when you reached down to again grip his cock in your hand, lining him up with your entrance.

"Are you too exhausted to heal if necessary?" You asked, your voice low and sultry as you waited for a reply.

The corners of his lips twitched up, and the worry for him in your heart ebbed away for now, "I'm never too exhausted to heal you."

"Then it matters not," You pushed down on to him, moaning at the stretch, "I like a challenge."

He moaned as you sank down, inch by inch, his eyes locked on to where his cock disappeared into you. When you were all the way to the base, you began slowly rocking your hips as you adjusted to his size, watching him as his eyes closed and his head tipped back again, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

"Gods," he sighed, "You feel so good wrapped around me like this."

When the sting of the stretch turned into a burning need, you lifted your hips, dragging off of him about half way before sinking back down. You braced your hands on his chest, gripping the hair there as you angled your hips and drove them down, hitting that spot that had you unable to bite down your moans.

"You're going to wake up the camp moaning like that, little shadow," He grunted below you, "Do you wish to be found out here like this?"

Your cunt clenched around him, and he moaned a laugh.

"Oh, you like that idea?" He asked, his breath coming in hot pants as you leaned over him. "You like the idea of one of them finding you like this? Maybe they'd want to join, hm?"

The thought of one of your companions finding you two, and wanting to join you, the thought of another pair of hands on you tore a loud moan from your throat and he grinned, his hands helping your hips keep their rhythm.

"You do like that," he mused, his eyes starting to glow gold, "Oh fuck - " He grit his teeth, pushing down that need to shift as you fucked yourself on his cock. But he couldn't hold in all of it.

His body grew a bit, the muscles stretching under your hands, but you didn't stop. The rhythm of your hips faltered as your climax grew closer and you were thankful he was helping you keep it, his hands lifting and slamming your hips down for you.

You felt the stretch before realizing what was happening - his cock grew as he tried to hold in the shift. The sudden added length and girth sending you over the edge, everyone of your muscles tightening as your vision went white and your blood roared in your ears. You were sure you screamed, but there was a hand over your mouth, one that smelled of your own arousal.

Halsin kept slamming your hips onto him, hitting that spot over and over and over. You felt his legs shift as he planted his feet on the floor and suddenly you were tugged down. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck, holding your face in his shoulder where you bit down to keep quiet, and his other arm wrapped around your back.

He slammed up into you, chasing his own release but also ripping a second one from you. You bit hard into his skin, your lips vibrating against his shoulder as you shouted at your second orgasm, your cunt clenching his cock as he stilled, spilling into you.

Halsin’s body twitched as he shouted into your neck, his hold tightening on you, squeezing the breath out of you. Your mouth released his shoulder, instead placing gentle kisses along his skin as his body began to shrink back to its normal size.

"Are you alright?" He whispered into your cheek, dragging his lips over what he could reach of your face. You hummed and nuzzled your nose into his neck.

"I'm alright," You mumbled, exhaustion beginning to weigh heavy on you. "Just. . . just tired."

He chuckled, stroking the back of your head and tracing patterns over the expanse of your back. "Go to sleep, little shadow, I'll dress you and carry you back to camp."

You let out a sleepy giggle, "What if I woke them?"

"If they'd heard your scream when you came, they would've run down here already," He pulled back so he could try to look down at you. "But I think I caught it in time."

"I guess you did," You words started to slur as sleep started to take you.

"Maybe we should ask one of them to join next time, just to keep you quiet," He murmured, smirking at the way you moaned at the thought, your hips trying to grind down on him. "Oh yes, I think next time we'll see if one of them will join us."

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stargirlrchive · 23 days

Text

INVISIBLE STRING — CASSIAN!

pairing: cassian x morrigan (half) sister reader

notes: :3 hi hi this is so scary. i haven’t posted a full thought out fic in probably a year (crazy) and i would like to say i have not finished the series so if timeline is inaccurate and just plots don’t make sense w canon it’s bc im still on acowar :p but cassian has taken over my brain and i can’t get him out of it !!!! c: part two is already being worked on bc im so proud of her. i hope u all enjoy it <3 ++ i know mor is described as being blonde and fairly pale in complexion which is why i made reader her half sibling, and there are no descriptions of reader’s physical attributes bc i wanted to kept it as neutral as possible :3

cw: angst, hurt no comfort (yet?), azriel’s shadows being the biggest cassreader shippers ever, unrequited love but really it’s just idiots in love. also mentions (brief) of abuse from keir (gross!)

Your fingers nervously fumbled with the straps of your leathers. Heart pounding in your ears as you forced yourself to drop the nervous jitters, fingers balling into tight fist to stop their trembling.

It had been a long time since you had last seen your family. A long time since your gaze met violet eyes, or your nose scented cedar wood and night chilled mist. The lingering scent of sea salted water and citrus, and fresh paint and vanilla, and sweet wine and roses had nearly erased from your memory. But what you missed the most was the red gleam of siphons that glowed ruby red under certain light.

Truly, in an immortals life time half a decade was just a blip in time, minuscule, but you had never been gone this long from them. Especially not from Rhys, Az, Mor, and Cassian, with the exception of Rhysand’s imprisonment under the mountain.

You blinked away the burning in your eyes as you pushed open the doors of the town house. Soft chatter growing cold at the unexpected intrusion. You had barely enough time to register everyone seated at the table when shadows were zooming past their master to greet you excitedly.

Nuzzling into your hair and neck and arms. Azriel’s shadows had always been so fond of you. Whispering and singing in your ear in a language you could not understand.

They tugged you forward, until you were stumbling clumsily as they dragged you towards Cassian. An ache settled deep in your chest as you fought against them gently, moving between Azriel and Rhys. You missed the flash of hurt in hazel eyes as you avoided him.

Five years later and he still didn’t know the truth of your departure. Before your thoughts could send you spiraling, Rhys’ voice called your name. An undeniable smile in his voice before his arms were enveloping you, “Cousin, you’re back.”

“I am.” Your throat felt thick, tongue heavy as you fought back tears. His scent had always comforted you, Rhys had given you and Mor a chance. A lifeline in the sea that you were drowning in, in Hewn City.

Two sisters, both forced into a world that was cruel and unkind. Morrigan as rightful Heir of Keir had experienced the brunt of it all. From being stuffed into tight dress, to being pranced around in front of grimy men, and nearly forced into a life with a male whose family’s cruelty knew no bounds.

Your torment had been in forms of neglect and isolation. Your father had never much cared for you, being a product of affairs, his bastard, he left you alone. Barely acknowledged your presence when at the mere age of nine you were thrown into his arms from your mother’s father, stating you were no longer his responsibility since your mother’s death. Your father’s neglect, you now realized, had been a blessing.

You were Mor’s shadow. Clinging to her as any younger sister would. Always causing trouble until you learned to obey. Mor never let you experience the abuse from your father fully. Always taking the blame, always hiding you. You owed her and Rhys, your family, everything.

There was a soft clearing of a throat that pulled you and your High Lord apart. Shadows greedily pulling you to face everyone else. Azriel’s hazel eyes assessing you, looking for any injuries before his fingers were squeezing your elbow gently. A soft hello.

Your eyes flickered around the room, and you realized just how much had changed. Your High Lady, and dear friend seated at the head of the table, Rhys by her side. Besides him sat Azriel and then Elain.

Your throat tightened as you allowed your eyes to flicker to the other side, Nesta beside Feyra, and Cassian beside her. Amren had most likely skipped out dinner to enjoy the privacy of her apartment, and Mor was no longer around. Preferring to spend her time on the continent.

The golden thread that tied you to the Lord of Bloodshed sung loudly and happily in your chest. Five years since you had last laid eyes on him and the feeling alone nearly brought you to your knees.

Your eyes flickered away from Cassian, ignoring the way your heart and soul begged you not to. “Is my room still available?”

Feyra sent you a soft smile, sad really, as she realized how desperately you wished to find some peace and quiet. She knew of your affections for the General, and how you had never told him only to watch him fall in love with her sister.

“Of course it is, but you should join us.”

You swallowed roughly at Rhys’ words, unable to stop the gnawing pain in your heart and the cruel words circling in your mind. Cassian was not yours, he had never been and it was unfair of you to expect him to love you the way you had always yearned for him too. But it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, it always fucking hurt.

“I’m quite tired, maybe tomorrow.” Rhys didn’t push, just affectionately tucked your hair behind your pointed ear and let you go.

Your steps were quick, hurried and Cassian’s voice sounded like smooth velvet as he called your name. You didn’t stop, your knees nearly buckling under your weight as you forced yourself to keep walking.

Mumbling a quiet, “Goodnight,” before disappearing into the hallways in search of your bedroom.

During your five years away at Day the turmoil in your heart had eased, if only slightly. Cassian would unintentionally send his emotions down the bond, and it seemed it always happened when your heart had finally let you rest.

When you finally saw light at the end of a never ending tunnel of despair, the mating bond would reel you in, viciously and unforgiving. You were sure you were being punished.

How dare you ever try to question what the Mother wanted for you?

Being back in Velaris, being back home, felt so much worse. With the distance, even when his emotions poured into your very bones, it felt weakened. Less tethered to you.

But now? Now you felt his sorrow so deeply tears fell freely down your cheeks.

You had only been trying to sleep for a few hours, your rest had been fitful at best, anxiety prickling at your fingertips as you threw the warm blanket off of you. You needed air. You needed clarity.

Your feet moved on their own. From what you last knew there were no longer many residents here. You were careless in thinking so as your feet moved hurriedly through the house and out into the garden.

Filling your lungs with air as tears prickled at your eyes, the cold nipping at your skin as you sunk into one of the benches placed around the area.

You had only been in his presence for a mere five minutes and your heart was already waging a war against you.

Maybe you could convince Rhys to send you off once again. Your years away at Day had been filled with research and insight, maybe you could do the same at Dawn. Or any other Court that wasn’t here. Gods, you’d even take the forsaken libraries in the Hewn City if it meant not being here. You’d beg if you had too because this, this was too much.

You let out a shaky breath as your mind ruthfully plagued you with memories of the past. Of your utter devastation of hearing that Mor had slept with Cassian.

Of the guilt you felt after, when you avoided her in anger and utter jealousy and then told of the way she was savagely left to die.

You would never forgive yourself.

Remembering when you realized you were utterly and hopelessly devoted to your life long friend, and learning to live with just having a small part of him for you.

Hoping and praying to the Mother that he’d love you back. Hoping to see a spark of honeyed warmth, or a lick of jealousy when you found solace in the warmth of another. Anything, you prayed and prayed, but she never answered.

Not until you had pinned him down on the training matt, wings sprawled out beneath him as you stared at him smugly. A soft, primal, smirk on his face as he gripped your thighs. “You’re getting better.”

Your laughter filtered through the open area, “Only ‘better’? I just kicked your ass.”

He grunted, tugging you gently and in a quick succession of movements had flipped you over, pinning you to the ground. His thighs caged over yours, pinning your hands above your head as he sent you a toothy smile.

The wind that had been knocked out of you was not due to the fact your back had hit against the matt, but because something snapped inside of you. An invisible golden thread, darting from your chest to his, so visceral you could almost taste it, singing happily at finally being acknowledged.

But he gave no indication that he had felt the mating bond snap into place, “Yes, ‘better’. Because you should know not to let your guard down.”

Your speechlessness could’ve been a product of being bested in sparring, your mind racing with things to say but nothing came out.

The fog that had formed in your brain cleared at the bark of laughter that left Azriel, “If you two are done flirting, get back to sparring or leave the ring.”

You don’t remember what excuse you used to suddenly needing to leave but you did. Hope sparkling in your chest at what you thought was an answered prayer by the Mother. He was yours, just as much as you were his.

Only for the ember to burn to ash quickly, as two nights after Cassian had come to you looking for guidance on how to court Nesta.

You tried so hard, pushing down the mating bond that roared and screamed in utter agony as he spilled to you his affections for the eldest Archeron.

Your heart stuttering and begging for release of this pain as your mind caught up to you. He’d never see you. He hadn’t before, so what would be so different now? What would suddenly make you worthy in his eyes? The mating bond?

You realized quickly that you didn’t want that. Didn’t want him to love you just because fate decided to pair you together. You wanted him to love you, to yearn for you the way you had for him without something telling him to.

So with a forced smile you consoled him. Running your fingers through his hair and giving him advice on how to win her heart.

Some days you cursed yourself for that night. You wished you had been selfish and told him he was yours. But then the guilt would settle and you knew you’d never have the heart to force that onto your dearest friend.

In the end all you wanted was his happiness, if that was with someone else then you’d have to learn to live with it.

It had all led up to the night where you accidentally walked in on Nesta and Cassian in the kitchen at the House of Wind, lips and tongues tangled.

The mating bond felt like it was burning you alive from the inside out, angry and volatile as it blamed you for pushing him into her arms.

You’re not sure how you ended up in Rhys office, your face pressed into him as your fingers tried to claw at the hurt in your chest, “Make it stop, Rhys. Gods please, just make it stop.”

He had never seen you like this, never seen you in such despair as he tried to calm you down. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to help you.

Only held you in his arms and sang a lullaby his mother had always sang to the three of you as children. Your desperation and pain eased and numbness eventually coated your insides.

“Send me away.”

He hesitated, wiping your tears as Feyra’s soothing touch caressed your back. His violet eyes shining with hurt and concern for you, “What are you running from?”

Your thoughts were interrupted by the deep timber of a voice you were so familiar with,“Is it just me, or are you avoiding me?”

Heat quickly ran from your skull down to your spine at the velvety voice that belonged to Cassian. Your back tensing uncomfortably as you turned to look at him.

You refrained from letting your eyes glaze down his form. Bare chested and wings lazily held up as his brows furrowed when he took you in.

“Cassian-what are you doing here?”

You stood up from your seated position as he moved closer. His eyes never leaving yours, “Here as in the gardens or here as in my home?”

Your brows furrowed, were he and Nesta now permanently in the town house? It would’ve made sense, seeing as they were all here, having dinner earlier.

“In-in the gardens.”

His lips twisted up into a small quirk of a smile, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to reacquaint himself with your features.

Your heart lurched to your throat as his gaze lingered on your lips before he looked back into your eyes. “I heard you walking around. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“How did you know it was me?”

His lips tugged into a proper smile this time, “Who else could it be?”

He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he’d long ago familiarized himself with the sound of your steps.

Your brows pinched together, full lips tugging into a small frown, “Where is everyone else?”

“Elain is most likely off in Lucien’s apartment, Azriel is at the House of Wind.”

And despite yourself, you asked, “And Nesta?”

Your throat bobbed softly, heart already preparing itself to hear that she was tangled in his sheets in his room. A soft shrug came from him, muscles flexing deliciously at the movement, “Probably with her mate.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest at his words. Her mate? You were sure the confusion was evident on your face as Cassian laughed. “It’s a bit unfair isn’t it? She was made a measly six years ago, and she’s found who her soul is tethered to, while we’ve been around for centuries and have no luck.”

“Lucky her.”

He hummed, eyes glazing over your face and the look in his eyes was unrecognizable. Warm and honeyed. It made your stomach twist and turn into uncomfortable knots.

“I should go to bed, Cassian. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You made to walk away from him, but his rough fingers wrapped around your forearm in a touch that could only be described as gentle. When you finally looked up at him his brows were pinched together in confusion, and hurt.

“What’s with the full name?”

“It’s yours, isn’t it?”

His eyes narrowed slightly at your words, “You’ve used it on me twice in the span of a few minutes. I’m never ‘Cassian’ to you.”

A stretch of silence passed between the two of you, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to act around him anymore.

Gods, you had come around to the idea of seeing him tangled with Nesta. But you were back and he was single. Or at least not with her and you don’t know what you feared most.

That your heart would take this as hope and yearn for him, and watch him fall for another, or to finally tell him how you felt. If it would even mean anything to him, if he’d even want you.

You couldn’t do it, you wouldn’t. You refused to let hope spark in your heart when he had already tangled himself into your very being like overgrown ivy. You don’t know if you’d survive any more rejection.

His voice was softer this time, thick fingers cupping your cheeks and jaw, forcing you to look at him, “You were gone five years and I can barely get five sentences out of you before you’re running away from me.”

Tears stung behind your eyes as your throat tightened at the hurt twinging his voice. It took everything in you to not soothe the crease between his brows, your body tensing softly as his thumb caressed your bottom lip gently, “If I have offended you, or hurt you some how tell me how to fix it. I have been waiting for five years for your return and I cannot stand to think that this whole time you were away you were angry with me.”

You wished you could speak, but your tongue felt heavy. The hurt in his eyes turned to something akin to despair at your silence, his hands dropped from caressing your face to hang loosely by his side, his wings slumped against the floor.

You let out a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to look away from him, “I should go to bed.”

And this time he didn’t stop you.

Weeks had trickled by so slowly since your return to Velaris as you tried to find your place back in your home court.

You had never been particularly good at fighting, your strength came from your knowledge. Books and literature had been something you had clung to as a child and it never left you.

You digested text in a way the inner circle did not, memorized details and names and faces others struggled with. But that did not mean Azriel was any easier on you when it came to training.

The muscles in your abdomen ached painfully, your arms felt heavy and filled with sand as he squared up once more. “I need a break.”

“You need to focus.”

A whine ripped from your throat in protest, Az’s shadows peppering cooling kisses and caresses on your skin to try and comfort you. “Just a few minutes. Please?”

“You think if someone were to try and attack you, they’d spare you if you whined like a petulant child?”

At your silence and glare he continued, “Didn’t think so.”

Your fingers balled into fist as you readied yourself, your muscles heavy with exhaustion as you threw punch after punch his way. “Remain focused, let yourself do what feels instinctual.”

You were sure you would’ve passed whatever Azriel’s standards were had his shadows not wrapped around your legs. Tugging insistently and trying to drag you away.

You heard Azriel’s noise of protest as he tried to rein his shadows back but they refused. Your head turned towards the direction in which they were tugging you in only to be met with Cassian’s warm hazel eyes already on you.

With an accidental misstep you were tumbling forward, falling far too quickly to catch yourself. Your head ringing harshly as the side of your face smacked against the mat.

Someone called out your name in a panic, and you missed the way Cassian had roughly pushed Azriel away from you as he turned you around.

His eyes frayed with worry as your eyes remained unfocused, “Can you look at me, dove?”

You blinked a few times before a groan of discomfort left your mouth, “What the fuck happened?”

Azriel’s shadows sheepishly began to caress your skull, pressing kisses of apologies on your skin. You didn’t hear anything besides tiny wisps of whispers coming from them but you’re were sure they hissed at Cassian as he shooed them away.

It took you a few minutes but you were eventually able to sit. Your ears ringing and still a little dizzy but you were feeling better despite the throb on your temple.

Azriel’s shadows peered at you from behind him sheepishly, and it was only when you extended your hand to them that they swarmed you in a flurry. Rubbing against your neck and hair affectionately, being careful with the side of your face but caressing you softly.

“They say they’re sorry.”

Your lips quirked up at Azriel’s words, “They’re forgiven.”

They buzzed in excitement, before stilling softly as Cassian extended a hand out for the shadows. They treaded carefully, lightly caressing his arm as in apology as if they had also offended him.

A few swirled around your hand and fingers, tugging it much more gently into Cassian’s extended hand. Your cheeks warmed up in embarrassment but before you could pull away, he tangled his fingers with yours.

The shadows swirled around your intertwined hands as if proud of themselves before finally returning to their master. Azriel sent you a soft smirk, and with a shake of his head diseapeared into a mass of dark misty shadows.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded slowly, retorting in exasperation, “Just feels like I hit my head.”

Cassian’s lips tugged into a soft smile, helping you up and not dropping your tangled fingers, “Let’s get you to Madja.”

He pulled you along closely, walking you both towards the edge of the training area. Before you could overthink about being so tangled in his arms he wrapped himself around you. One hand cradling the back of your head to his chest, while the other gripped the back of your thighs.

Your heart pummeled to your stomach as he took off flying, it had been so long since you felt the breeze against your face like this. Your legs wrapping around him as a startled laugh left your mouth.

You felt his laugh more than you heard it, his chest rumbling against yours and for the first time in years, your heart felt at ease around Cassian.

No turmoil or anguish, just overflowing affection and happiness as he flew you carefully around Velaris. Your face tucked away from being so pressed to his chest to look up at him and your breath hitched.

He was truly so beautiful, rough and sharp features that looked like he was made out of stone carving. His lips the perfect shade of dusty rose and plump, his nose fit him beautifully too, slightly crooked at the slope from being broken over the years. White-raised scars on his beautiful tan skin. You were so close you could see the faintest of freckles that doted his skin.

“You didn’t pass out on me, did you?”

Heat bloomed on your cheeks at getting so lost admiring him before you tucked your face back into his chest, “No, I’m fine.”

His fingers squeezed around your thighs as he pulled you closer before he descended down to the Town House.

You were grateful for the hand he kept placed on your back as he walked you into the house. Your dizziness hitting you once again as you landed on solid ground. The warmth running down your spine at his heated touch had you suppressing a shiver.

Your bones ached in protest when he pulled away and sat you down in front of an amused Rhys and exasperated Madja. The elder lady frowning at the bruise on your temple.

“Cassian, I’ve told you not to be so rough when training,” Madja’s soothing voice chastised the General. Your lips tugging into an amused smiled at the noise of protest that left his mouth.

“It was Azriel’s shadows that caused this.”

Madja’s eyes narrowed softly at his words but said nothing more. A hiss leaving your lips as she pushed against the bump forming near your eye.

Cassian’s fingers twitched nervously at the sound of your discomfort. His eyes glued to you as you were looked over by the healer.

Something warm and comfortable hummed in his chest seeing you. The weeks you had been back were nothing short of torture for him.

In the five years you had been gone Cassian came to the devastating realization that he was utterly and unabashedly enamored with you. Cursing himself for the time wasted on pointless lovers, on Nesta, when you had been by his side for the better half of four centuries.

His heart cracking open and knocking him over one restless night as his mind tormented him with everything he had been lacking since you had departed to Day.

He figured that he had always loved you, had always cared for you. But the twisting of his gut in your absences alerted him that it was in a way that was different from Mor and Amren, and then Feyra. His obsession with needing you near, needing you safe stemmed from some thing else entirely.

It took four months of being away from you to realize that. Cursing himself at all the time wasted.

And it wasn’t as if he didn’t try to get ahold of you while you were studying and researching to your hearts content at Day. He had sent letter after letter, received few responses but he had figured you were busy.

His skin had only started to crawl with dread and anxiety when there had been reasons for the Inner Circle to attend a meeting, or some grand ball thrown by Helion, and you were never there.

Either whisked away to some other Court for extended research or taking time away to visit your sister.

The very last time he had stepped foot in Day while you had been there was about three months before your return. Rhys had granted him permission to seek you out.

And when he stepped foot into Day Court’s palace in search of you his hope dwindled as Helion informed him that you had just left a few days prior for a fourteen day tour at Autumn Court. But he swore he scented the soft jasmine and lavender cream that he recognized as your scent roaming the halls.

Resigned, he returned home.

Then you returned, so careful and tense in his presence he wished to turn back back to when things were easier between the two of you. When his face would nuzzle into your soft belly as you ran your fingers through his hair and consoled him after a nightmare.

Or how he’d find his favorite pastries wrapped up on the counter that he knew you’d gone out of your way to get him.

He missed when his feelings hadn’t tangled themselves so deeply into you and he could just be. Gods, did he miss you. He yearned and ached and burned for you while you seemed content at keeping him an arms length away.

The mother could be so cruel.

He barely registered Rhys pressing an affectionate kiss to your bruised temple and mumbling that he was taking Madja back before something so earth shattering was unraveling in his chest.

His eyes wide and chest heaving the second the two of you were alone and your eyes met. A deeply rich golden invisible thread darting from his chest to yours.

He had unconsciously poured all his emotions of recognizing the bond down your connection. A primal need to be closer to you bursting from his chest as he tugged on the bond.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t seem surprised he noted. Your side of the bond closed off tightly he could feel nothing from your end. He hated that.

Your eyes were wide in apprehension as you stared at him, tears lining your eyes as his emotions of love and devotion were so strong they brought him to his knees before you. Pleading and desperate as he called out your name.

“Don’t do this, Cassian.”

His brows pinched together as he reached for you, the bond screaming in agony as you avoided his touch and stood up to create some space between the two of you.

“Dove, listen to me. Please.” He was not above begging, still kneeled in the center of the room as his wings slumped to the ground. His eyes following your every move as you nervously ran your fingers through your hair.

“I feel it, I feel you.” His fingers and hands were steady as he pointed to his chest despite the feeling of anxiety creeping into him.

“You’re mine, my mate, dove.”

There was a beat of silence, Cassian staring at you as if you had delicately placed every beautiful star in the sky. But you had never seen him look at you like that before.

Never had he inclined he wanted you besides the bond. Gods, did it hurt. Your stomach churned sadly as your fingers balled into fist as you shook your head in denial.

“No. No, you don’t get to just suddenly want me because of the bond. I don’t want it this way.”

His frown deepened at your words, your emotions so heavily felt they started to crack the walls you kept up and pouring into the bond.

You had known for years. Five years, you had known and said nothing. “Gods, Cassian! I have loved you for so long. Prayed and begged to the Mother, to the Cauldron, to the Moon and Stars to have you return my affection and you didn’t.”

Cassian wanted to speak, to protest your words but the frustrated tears pouring down your beautiful face and the agony building in his chest, that was no longer just his, kept him quiet. “I’ve watched you pine and love others, and you have never looked at me that way. You had never thought me worthy of you in that way, and now that you know. It shouldn’t change a thing.”

“But it does,” His fingers itched to devote themselves to you. To memorize every curve and dip on your body. “It changes everything-”

You cut him off before he could continue, before he could tell you that he now felt worthy of loving you. That he now knew he could love you in a way you deserved if the Mother had blessed him with you as his wonderful mate. “Well it shouldn’t.”

You sniffled softly as you stared at him directly in his eyes, “I don’t want it to.”

#cassian #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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jaysgirlx · 2 months

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❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞

❥ pairing: valentines jason todd x f!reader

❥ summary: this is your first valentine's day with jason after well he died and came back, he needs everything to be perfect for you to make for all the lost time.

❥ warnings: bit of angst, mentions of abuse/torture, tons of fluff & smut, unapproving dad Bruce Wayne

❥ wc: 4.3k

"Jason stop it, c'mon Bruce is going to catch us" you squealed, while your boyfriend pressed kisses all over your neck. "I don't want you to get banned from seeing me again, especially with Valentine's upcoming!"

Jason groaned and lifted his head up from your hickey-stained neck. "Even if Bruce does ban me, there's no way in hell I'm missing our first Valentine's," Jason says, laying his head on your chest. The two of you comfortably lay in your bed, cuddling while your parents were asleep a couple doors down.

You'd grown up with Jason, you'd always known him as a troublesome kid but that didn't stop you from developing a crush on the guy. You never thought of saying anything until you learned he'd gotten adopted after his dad kinda just disappeared.

For weeks you'd missed him, you missed how dumb antics, you missed the way he was always following you around and you missed his dumb smile. God, you loved that cheesy grin he always gave you..

Until one day he appeared on your doorstep, telling you that Bruce, his new dad was finally allowing him to visit his old friends. You thought he'd forgotten you but it was far from it and you knew then and there you definitely had a thing for Jason Todd.

It still took a while for either of you to confess your feelings. You thought you would crack first but Jason did instead when he learned that some guy from your school had a crush on you. He didn't mean for it to come out but he was just so jealous, "Why go out with him when you have me huh? I'd make a much better boyfriend. Just go out with me"

He wasn't wrong because he did, a week later you were on the best date of your life. Jason took you to this amazing amusement park that was happening in the middle of Gotham City. The whole night was spent on games and junk food, and Jason Todd got his kiss on the cheek that wasn't from Barbara.

Over time your relationship developed into something more, you couldn't help but spend more and more time with him. He eventually asked you to be his girlfriend and you've been his ever since.

"Well, I don't want to risk it okay? You need to get home before Bruce notices, don't you guys have patrol tonight"

"Okay fine, fine but first, I have something for you princess"

You watch as Jason pulls out what looks to be a ring box. "Woah, wash slow your roll buster, we are only 15 you can't freaking propose!" you whisper scream, praying that your shock wouldn't wake up your parents.

"Princess calm down, it's just a promise ring," Jason said rolling his eyes as if this was normal. "I wanted to give it to you before our date tomorrow, so you'll already be wearing it"

Jason sat up a bit and cleared his throat while he looked at you nervously, "I'm not sure if I've made this clear but…I love you y/n. Like really love you and you're the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with. So I got this promise ring, it's like a sign of me promising myself to you if that makes any sense"

"You love me?"

"Yes, I love you y/n and you don't have to say it back okay? We're young, I have years to come to hear you say it"

You were silent as he slipped the ring on your finger. You could tell from the moment he opened the box it wasn't cheap but you couldn't complain he bought it for you. Because he loved you. And you wanted to say it back but you were scared, scared to fully accept that you loved him.

Jason didn't care if you said it back or not because, in his eyes, you were the only one who accepted him. He looked at you sweetly and gave you a soft smile before getting out of your bed and heading towards your window. Now was the time to say it, to tell him you loved him but you just couldn't m

"I'll see you tomorrow okay sweetheart? I'll pick you up at 7" He says climbing out the window with one of his cheesy grins.

At the age of 15, you'd never be happier to be young and stupidly in love with Jason Todd. Ever since he moved in with Bruce, the two of you didn't get to see each other a lot, and that caused tension between him and Bruce. Jason believed he deserved a later curfew so he could visit you but Bruce was against it, he didn't think it was safe.

Tonight Jason snuck out to see you, the two of you had Valentine's Day plans and wanted to confirm them and we'll spend time with you. You were his world, you were one of the biggest reasons he became Robin. You were the one he wanted to protect no matter what and you knew that.

What you didn't know was this would be the last time you'd ever see Jason at least until you saw his casket. The two of you never celebrated your first Valentine's and you never got to tell Jason how much he meant to you. You never got to tell him how stupid he was for sneaking out, how much you didn't deserve this wrong, and that you did love him back.

7 years later

Everything had to be perfect.

Currently, it was February 14th and Jason had woken up with what was probably the worst news he could've gotten over a phone call.

Dear Mr.Todd, we're sorry to bother you on such a busy day but your reservation at Gotham Restaurant has been canceled due to a surge of higher-paying customers. We can reschedule your reservation for free at any time. We are sorry for this inconvenience.

"You're kidding me right!" Jason yelled, banging his fist against the wall. Out of a day, it had to snow today huh? Your first Valentine's since the two of you got back together. The first Valentine's since he died. Jason had never been able to give you the Valentines you deserved and when the two of you got back together, he immediately started planning.

"No Sir, we are very sorry for this inconvenience and we can try and get you another reservation elsewhere but-"

"Nowhere else is going to have any free spot and even ignoring that my girlfriend wants to go the Gotham Restaurant not anywhere else"

Well, that is what you had told him when he asked what restaurant would you like to go to that you hadn't been to yet. This wasn't how today was supposed to go. Jason had the whole day planned out. What should've been waking up in his followed by breakfast in bed, shopping, lunch, more shopping, dinner at your favorite place, a movie, dessert at your favorite ice cream shop, and ending with hopefully some cuddling if you didn't mind was now all ruined.

Jason had needed today to be perfect especially after you got over the fact that your dead boyfriend was not only alive but also vililangte who was formerly a crime lord. The fact you still wanted to be with him after all this time bewildered him this led him to believe he was probably on thin ice with you so today had to be perfect.

Since it was already Valentine's Day he knew no other restaurant would have any space for a reservation so that meant he'd probably have to cook the two of you dinner. Jason had quite the stocked fridge so he didn't see it as a bad idea but he knew you'd be disappointed for sure.

His entire relationship was riding on today being perfect and it was already failing. While Jason tried to get dressed he quickly noticed that it was already passed 8 o'clock. He was late, He said he'd make you breakfast in bed at 8 which made him late. Could today get any worse?

And it did when you told him you wouldn't eat breakfast with him because your boss really needed you at work for a couple of hours and he had already been on his way to your apartment. "I'll be back early enough for us to go shopping, and go to the restaurant. mkay? I guess we'll have to miss the movie" you said through the phone while simultaneously getting dressed for work. "Can't wait to go the Gotham Restaurant, can't believe you got us a reservation babe."

"Yeah about that…" Jason couldn't do this, he couldn't tell you that actually, you guys weren't getting dinner anywhere and that he was going to cook at home. You sounded so excited and so happy and he didn't want to be the reason that went away. "You'll love it alright. I'll pick you up from work around 6 for your shopping spree and then we'll get dinner"

"Jay I don't need to go shopping, dinner is enough really-"

"I want to take you shopping okay? I have enough saved up to spoil you and that's what I plan to do sweetheart"

Your heart hummed at the word sweetheart. It had been so long since Jason had called you that. It felt surreal because at times he didn't feel like Jason, well not like your Jason. The Jason who kissed you like his life depended on it, the Jason who was obsessed with holding your hand, the Jason who told you he loved you.

When Bruce called you and told you Jason was alive you didn't believe him. Jason was dead, you were at the funeral just like everyone else and knew how he died. A small part of you blame Bruce, this wouldn't have happened to Dick and even if it did he would've found him. Bruce tried telling you a couple more times but you ignored him. Your boyfriend, no your Jason was dead. The next time you hear about it was from Dick because Jason was out for blood. Joker's if we had to be specific.

You didn't want to believe him but Dick had loved Jason like they were biological brothers and you knew he wouldn't lie. He warned you that Jason was different and that I should be wary of him.

You took his advice and made sure not to walk home alone and tried not to go out at night but one day you had a rough day at work and you decided to visit Jason's grave. You left red dahlias on his tombstone and sat down next to it. You started talking to it about how your boss yelled at you and called you incompetent. "You would have called him an asshole for that if you were here," You told him how much you missed him. You knew he was alive but it felt so much easier talking to the tombstone because it felt like he was really there.

You did this consistently for about 2 months, you had caught on that someone was watching you. It was Dick because when you did actually see the figure they were much taller than Dick and they stayed hidden, Dick wouldn't have a reason to do that. It made sense to alert Dick but you didn't because you knew who it was and you weren't ready to face him.

Eventually, you heard from Dick that Jason had changed and that maybe you should talk to him but you still needed time. That didn't stop Jason from approaching you at your apartment. You were startled because your little high school boyfriend was suddenly 6 feet and over 200 pounds. He was practically all muscle and you were kinda scared. That didn't stop you from crying in his arms.

It took a while for the two of you to adjust to being in each other's lives especially when you never stopped having feelings for him. When you admitted that to him, he asked for a second chance. That he'd be yours even if you weren't his. So you let him be yours.

"Okayyy, I'll see you at 6 hun," you said just as you cut off the call.

Jason paces around his bedroom trying to figure out how the hell he was going to get the reservation back.

The two of you arrive at the mall, and you wait while Jason parks his motorcycle. It was shocking how there were barely any cars in the lot. Jason assumed that maybe people were just busy cause of Valentine's. You were so excited to go in that you ran over to the doors to get inside except you couldn't.

Closed for Construction, the sign read.

Jason didn't think today could get worse but it did. "No no no! This wasn't supposed to be Damn it!" He said angrily. He had even called the building, they were supposed to be opened. Construction wasn't for another 2 weeks, it was just his luck that they decided to start early. "Jason it's fine, I told you I don't need to go shopping. It was very thoughtful of you though to want to spoil me but you're already getting me dinner at the best restaurant in the city"

"There is no dinner! Our reservation got fucking and canceled and…Today is ruined y/n. Let me just take you home."

"Jason why didn't you tell me, I can promise you today is not ruined. Jay, are you even listening to me?"

Jason was hardly processing your words though because all he could think was losing you. You would dump him and he would go back to hating himself and his very existence. Would life go back to being a reminder that he died? He was tortured endlessly until he was finally out of his misery. No matter how hard the Joker tried to convince him that you hated him he wouldn't believe him. The part of you wearing his promise ring is what kept him going. What got him through the beating. What made it easier to look at the scars.

What left did he have if he wasn't able to love you. He was yours, he didn't know how to love others and he didn't want to because he would always love you. When he was watching you he realized that even though it had been 7 years you were still the same.

Still had the pretty smile and that contagious laugh, still had a knack for books and enjoyed it. You were still his, at least he believed so. And the one thing you asked him, he couldn't deliver. You messed up your first Valentine's and now he was going to mess up this one too.

"Jay for fucks sake, would you look at me!!"

Jason wasn't sure if it was that cursing that made him snap out of his spiral or maybe it was the fact that you were holding his hands. It had only been 2 weeks since he reintroduced himself into your life, and had been avoiding affection. He knew it was cause he was so big now and you were a bit scared. But right now you weren't. You were holding your hands with his. You were looking at him with what looked like pain and so much regret but you were smiling at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Just shut up okay? And listen to what I have to say"

After you had finally managed to calm him down you knew you needed to tell d him how you had felt. "When I lost you, I regretted so much Jay but what I regretted most was not telling you that I loved you and it hurt. It hurt knowing Joker had you and that you were in pain but what hurt more was that you were really gone."

You paused and slowed your breath a bit.

"I know it seems like you owe me something like you need to make up for lost time or show me you're worth love but I already know that Jay. I've been yours since we were kids, m'kay? "

"But I do owe you, I owe you the goddamn world if possible"

"For what Jay?"

"Accepting me again I know I'm different than I'm used to be. I'm more shut out and I know I definitely look different. There is so much you accepted just cause I love you"

You groaned annoyingly and raised your hand up and shook it in his face, "Have you even noticed that I'm still wearing this promise ring? The one you gave me?"

Jason had, you wondered why you still wore it. It was so tiny and was probably uncomfortable. It was a tiny gold band, he had paid Selina for that had a diamond on it. To others, it clearly looked like it could be an engagement ring and you still wore it because you still, did being to someone whether was dead or alive. People tried to convince you to move on and take off the ring but you didn't listen.

"You still have it..."

"Mhmm, believe me now?"

"How about we get dinner to go at some random place, come to my place and we'll eat and cuddle while watching some movies"

"You're okay with just that?"

"I'm okay with anything as long as I'm doing it with you Jay, that's the whole point"

Jason smiled and held you in his arms, "can't believe you're still all mine"

"C'mon let's go to the movie theater and see what they've got"

And that's exactly what you did.

The two of you were cozied up on your bed, with a bunch of food. Jason bought himself chili dogs and got you pancakes to make up for breakfast. Who knew pancakes tasted better at night?

Jason also bought 2 tubs of Ice Cream to substitute as dessert. You may not be eating at that fancy restaurant but you were still having the time of your life.

" I swear you hated chili dogs when I was alive?!"

"I always liked them I just never wanted to admit it else that would've been the only food we'd ever eat"

While the TV played in the background you looked over at Jason who looked the happiest he'd been all day. There he was, your Jason. He was there, under all those scars he was still there. Jason noticed you were staring you looked over at you, and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips. "I've missed the taste of your lips" he whispered quietly

He kissed you again and this time you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. "I've missed you, Jay," you said in response. Jason didn't hands on his way to your hips and he pulled you closer, right onto his lap. You still hadn't adjusted to Jason being so big, so when your hands found your way to his muscles you were surprised to feel him groan while you felt him up a bit.

"Sweetheart, if you keep this up I'm going to do something you might regret"

"I didn't regret my first time with you, I'm not going to regret it now babe"

He groaned again this time grinding his hips upwards against yours. Jason swiftly switches your position, putting you underneath him. His kisses quickly became more eager while his hips rutted into you, "Baby, I don't have any-"

"Don't need it, got on the pill a couple years back" you said softly, gripping his shirt. "I promise I want this, so let's get these out for he was please?"

Your pleas were enough for Jason to take off your dress, you'd worn a red satin dress. He'd always liked you in red, especially when it was just for him. Jason had on a tux except he replaced the jacket with his favorite leather one. Regardless, he still looked so good, as he always did.

His leather jacket was already on your bedroom floor, you tried to undress him but he stopped you. "The scars…I don't want to scare you again"

"You won't, I promise. I'll even kiss them, they're a part of you Jay and you're mine" you say tugging on his shirt. With a sigh, he silently takes off his shirt. You raise your hand to touch him but stop and make sure it is okay. He doesn't verbally answer but he gives you a nod. You trace his scars with your finger but one sticks out the most, his neck scar.

You move your face closer to his neck, and kiss his scar, "You're still as beautiful as ever, you're still my Jason" you say while you pull away from his neck. Before you can even read his reaction, Jason kisses you again, rough and with more of a need. Jason had told you he'd met other people but in the end, he could ever think of you. You were the only person who made it just for him.

You'd had your own set of boyfriends which all seemed to end up the same, they'd get too close and you'd dump them. You couldn't imagine loving anybody the way you loved Jason. Jason's body pressed against yours with his hand on your back, pushing you into him. Your hands made your way to his pants, tugging at the waistband. "Patient baby, I'll take em off for you"

The sound of a belt hit your floor but you didn't care, you kept kissing him like your life depended on it. You didn't fully remember when Jason took off your underwear but you remember him, "Jay when did get so..."

"big?" he finished for you with a chuckle, "Yeah, there's a lot you're going to have to get used to with me" His tip pressed at your cunt, earning a disapproving groan for you. You didn't like how slow he was going, you knew he was doing it because he didn't want to hurt you but you weren't 15 anymore you could take it.

You wrap one leg around his waist pushing against his back. Jason liked the way you squirmed underneath him, practically begging for him to fuck you. After a couple minutes, he gave in and sunk his cock right into you. Your nails dug into his back, feeling the stretch of his cock inside you. You felt so embarrared you came on his cock from just him entering"

"Did you just-"

"Shut up please"

Jason looked down at you, his cheeks flushed red, while he was breathing very quickly

"Jay why aren't you moving"

"Can't baby"

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I mean if I move, I'm going to cum on the spot sweetheart so please bare with me" he groaned out, trying to adjust to your warm cunt hugging his cock. Slowly he began to move, using one hand to grip the sheets in hopes he wouldn't blow his load too quickly. His other hand was on his hip, trying to steady your body. Your hands were on his face, caressing his cheeks. Whenever he blushed it was so obvious, you used to tease him all about it even though you loved it.

He down to capture your lips again, allowing your arms to find themselves around his neck. Each thrust was messier than the last, getting rougher after each second. Sex now was so much more different than when the two of you were teens. Jason did things you didn't even know he could do. Once he'd found your g-stop he began to abuse it, earning a chocked moan from you every time. He was studying what you liked, what made you feel good and you loved him.

He let go of the sheets and placed both hands on your hips, giving you even tougher thrusts and even biting on your neck. Your entire body was on fire, you were overwhelmed notnonkynfrom his size but the feeling of Jason's body pressing into yours. You couldn't feel so good.

You always knew Jason was a bitter, also long as he didn't draw too much blood you were alright with it. A soft moan left your mouth as you came again, cum running down your thighs while Jason continued to fuck you. Jason thought about overstimming, making you beg for him to stop because you'd feel too good.

"Didn't know my girl was into biting" He said, while lifting up one of your legs to push deeper into you. You'd cum for tbr second time but he needed you cum one last time at least before he came. The rough slaps of skin and moans filled the room. Making it hard for you to not cum again on the spot. You felt so good you couldn't even complain that he was teasing you "Fuck you're really sensitive sweetheart"

You hid your face in the crook of his neck while his hips pounded into yours. Your legs shook while you whispered in his ear, "If you don't stop m'gonna cum again, Jay pleaseeeee"

He didn't stop though, instead, you came another two times. Makes a mess of cock. "Such a good girl f'me, just let me fill you up and we'll be done. I promise sweetheart" He gripped your hips tightly before releasing inside you. The two of you exchanged a couple more kisses while you both rode out your orgasms.

You whimpered while he pulled out of you, missing his warmth already. He watched as his cum poured out of you, dripping on the sheets. You laid back on the bed, while he hovered over you for a brief moment.

Once he laid down next to you and though he was panting he pulled your body onto his lap. You rested your head on his chest just as he used to do to you. That reminded you, there was something you needed to say, "Jay can I say something I've been holding in for a long time, yeah?"

"Mhmm, what is it, sweetheart?"

"Jason Peter Todd, I love you"

❥ a/n: happy valentine's to all my lovelies!! i hope everyone enjoys this fic and also has a nice valentines day, whether it's with someone or by themselves. this also is a gift to my bf who is my sweetheart.

❥ taglist: @meowkn, @kazzattack, @woodenanemone, @yourlocalcringydaydreamer , @orchidsangel, @jason-anon , @millyhelp, @gleasonlovesjasontodd

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daycourtofficial · 1 month

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Starfall in Autumn

Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader

Summary: based on the prompt for @starfallweek “characters a and b realize they won’t make it to Starfall. They make the most of what they have to celebrate”

Warnings: pregnancy mentioned as a plot device to keep us in Autumn 🫡, Eris being down bad

Upon your engagement, you told Eris that you wanted to incorporate Night Court traditions into your life here in Autumn. One such tradition included attending your home court’s annual Starfall Ball.

Your favorite night of the year, bringing Eris along to spend the evening with your family. The first few years were tense, and while your family is far from accepting him with loving arms, they do have common ground they can discuss and safe topics for all parties to avoid any fights or arguments.

Usually Eris would spend most of the evening with you or Lucien, but a few years ago he and Nesta began an annual traditional chess match. The two were quite evenly matched, the both of them ignoring everyone in concentration.

This year, however, you were stuck in Autumn, unable to get dressed up. The one night of the year you donned Night Court attire, instead staying in comfortable slippers and a simple black dress.

You were close to your due date, the next heir of Autumn in your womb, and they were much too large for you to winnow comfortably anymore. An unfortunate fact you discovered two months ago on a trip with Lucien, your brother in law suffering the consequences of your motion sickness.

You and Eris made the decision then on no more winnowing, and the Night Court was simply too far away to travel by carriage or horse this far along in your pregnancy.

So the two of you stayed behind, the crisp air, faint smell of apples, and the red and orange leaves doing nothing to soothe the homesickness you felt deep in the pits of your stomach.

Autumn didn’t celebrate Starfall - you couldn’t see any of the beautiful colors that fill the night sky here, not a trace of starlight anywhere.

Eris held your hands as you sat on a blanket, the crunching of leaves as your body hits the earth. You watch the sky as you feel your mate’s warmth next to you.

“Er, what are we doing out here?”

“Patience is a virtue, my love,” he replies, kissing your hand.

“Since when have you been so concerned with being virtuous?”

He leans up, a hand lying across his knee. He looks so relaxed when you knew he had been anything but. Eris was incredibly experienced in caring for babes, having helped raise all of his brothers.

His least favorite part was always the labor. He’d pace outside of his mother’s chambers, his father nowhere to be seen until after the ‘inconvenient part’, as Beron described it. His thoughts would lead him to the worst conclusion, preparing himself to lose his mother, the only softness he’s ever experienced in the world.

And now he was crippled with those same anxieties about you. He swallows those fears down, saving them for later. Now was about you.

“I’m preparing to be a father, dear, I have to put on a front at least.”

He pulls out a bottle of apple cider from the basket next to you two, along with two glasses. He gestures the bottle to you, and you nod. He pours your glass and hands it to you before pouring himself a glass.

You hum as the cool liquid slides down your throat, leaning into Eris as he wraps an arm around you.

You breathe in the cool autumn air, a faint smell of bonfires in the distance. You watch the stars as they twinkle, reminding you of your childhood, of Starfalls past with Rhysand.

Eris senses your nostalgia through the bond, and tightens his grip on you. You notice a few other fae in the clearing, bringing their own blankets, snacks, and children.

“I thought the Autumn Court didn’t celebrate Starfall?” You ask, eyes finding Eris’s amber ones in the dark.

He exhales, the movement of his chest rubbing against you, “we do now.”

Your gaze on Eris was interrupted by a large boom on the other side of the clearing. You look for the source, assuming you’re under some form of attack, until the sky lights up in beautiful shades of red, shining so brightly against the night sky. The red scatters across the sky, fizzling out, making way for the next boom, this one followed by a green light display.

“What is this?” You ask, unable to look away, never seeing anything like it before.

“Well, during the war we were experimenting with new weapons, and one of our scientists invented this powder. We’ve only been able to use it for these big, beautiful displays.”

“Truthfully, they’ve been sitting in storage for years. Beautiful, but not very useful for the war. When we decided on staying here for the holiday, I was trying to find ways to make the day memorable for you.”

You pull your eyes away from the display in the sky, Eris’s pale face lit up in shades of green and yellow light. “Er, you big softie,” you choke out, tears threatening to spill out at the gesture.

It wasn’t the Starfalls of your youth, running around with Rhysand or Cassian, the Illyrians flying you into the stardust until you were covered in it.

It wasn’t your childhood, it was new. And perhaps this would be your children’s childhood - starfalls spent under the manufactured displays, so different from the real thing, but beautiful in such a unique way.

He inhales through his nose, trying not to take the bait, but he knew you were right. He was still rigid and untrusting, but you had smoothed out so many of his rough edges over the years.

“I am what you have made me, my love.”

#acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra x you #eris x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris x y/n #eris x reader

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sorcerersseestars · 5 months

Text

LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

PART II

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo behavior #hurt/comfort #gojo hurt/comfort #angst #jjk #best buddie shoko #sad bc utahime and shoko aren’t together in this one 😤#Gojo is a hater

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reiderwriter · 5 months

Note

could you write a fic with a fem reader where spencer’s going through withdrawal and he’s being like snappy and stuff when she’s just trying to help? idk if that makes sense?

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I'm sorry it took me so long ㅠㅠ I hope this is everything you were looking for!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN! reader

Warnings: mentions of drug use, mentions of addiction in the family, and spoilers for Season 2 of Criminal Minds.

You can check out my masterlist here!

In comparison with the other members of the BAU, you had the most experience with recovery. So you knew that it wasn't easy. Spencer Reid didn't.

The moment you'd noticed him stepping out on the team, spending more time isolated and with a shorter temper, you knew. Tobias Hankel had only tortured Spencer for a day, but he was still inside him even months later.

The day you realised he was using, you moved yourself into his apartment.

“Hi,” you said as he opened the doors, bleary-eyed from whatever hit he just dealt himself. “My apartment flooded, and I had nowhere else to go.”

Spencer Reid would always help others before he helped himself. It took a few more hours to broach the discussion of the drugs, but when you did get him to give in, you could feel the weight flowing off his shoulders.

“I can't get his face out of my mind. The drugs, they help. And I know they're not really helping, but it's like I'm not strong enough to care.” He'd broken down into tears, placed his supply on the tables in front of you and picked open the wound that had never fully healed properly.

Step one to recovery was accepting you needed help. Step two was harder.

Slowly decreasing his intake until he was free of the drug. Watching him for any negative reactions in the field and at home, dealing with the underlying trauma.

You had to talk to Hotch about it, of course. But he knew about your father, and to a certain extent, you knew about his. A single shared look was enough for you both to agree that Spencer needed everyone's support.

So you dropped him off at his meetings. You picked him up afterwards. You watched him in the field for any mention of addiction and drug-related psychosis that could lead him down a dark path of what ifs.

You held his hand. You kissed his head. You were there.

Even when he tried to show you he didn't deserve it.

“Spencer,” you'd started the conversation trying to get his attention, knowing from the far away look that he was missing the numbness that came with the high.

“Spencer, you look tense. Are you okay?” He'd whipped his head around at the words, a scowl on his face.

“You don't need to hover over me like I'm a child, Y/N.”

“I want to know that you're okay.” You said back, pouring yourself a glass of water to calm yourself again. Sometimes, Spencer made every little question an attack, and you had to learn to dodge the blows.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I want to take care of you.” Your calm reply had him angrier though, as he snorted with a single reply.

“Like you took care of your dad? That worked out so well, didn't it.”

Ten years and any mention of the man who had raised you still had you freezing in shock. You almost didn't notice when your glass tumbled to the ground, to be smashed into a thousand tiny pieces.

It was almost as if the crash woke Spencer up from his stupor, his gaze growing regretful as he stood and approached you quickly.

With a hand and a shake of a head, you stopped him, though.

“Let me clear the large pieces on my own. I don't want you to get hurt.” Kneeling, you did just that, picking out recognisable edges and sides and transporting them carefully into the trash.

“I'm not going to sit here and let you do all the work, Y/N. I'm… I'm sorry.” His voice whispered those last few words as he kneeled next to you sweeping the glass up, careful not to cut himself on it.

You wiped the tears from your eyes as both of you worked busily, letting your argument hang in the air between you.

“I know you're sorry, Spencer,” you whispered as the two of you worked, still not brave enough to look him in the eyes. “My dad was, too. He never meant it, though.”

“I mean it.” He stopped moving, and you finally looked up to his eyes, to the life there that sparked, that had been buried by Tobias Hankel. Motivation.

With the glass cleared, he stood, reaching out a hand to you to help you up. You took it, letting him assist you. He didn't let go after, though. Not immediately.

He stepped closer, and you relaxed into his chest, resting an ear over his heart. It was still beating, and that was what mattered.

“I can't fix you, Spencer. I can't make this better. I can't do that for you, because you have to do it for yourself. That's what my dad never understood.” Your voice was barely audible, but you knew he could hear and knew he was listening.

“I can't reverse what he did to you. But I promise, I will be here to remind you that you are a good man. To remind you of what you are like when you're you how much I love you, how much we all love you.”

“I'll stand next to you and look into that mirror every morning and tell you what I see. A good man on the bad days, the same man on the good days. I don't want to fix you, Spencer. I want to love you, and I want you to accept that you're worth it.”

His head rested on top of yours, and you could feel his small wrecks of tears as he sniffled. Inhaling your scent, he could've spent the night wrapped in your arms like that.

“Thank you. For saying that. For being here. I know it's not easy.”

“It's not. But you're worth it.” Clinging to him, you let the moments tick by, never releasing him from your warm embrace.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #mgg #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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1-800-hwahui · 1 year

Text

match of the season

member | college student radio host!junhui x fem student!reader genre | smut, fluff, humor word count | ~7,300 warnings | virgin!jun, shy clueless jun, fr that man does not know a single thing but it's endearing in a silly way, top!reader bot!jun (but no real dom/sub dynamics, more like reader leads until jun figures out how to take over), unprotected sex, jun big cock agenda, VOICE KINK (listen. you all knew it was coming), so much dirty talk, lots of consent bc it is very sexy, riding, little bit of dry humping?, mentions of an iud/birth control, jun is implied taller than reader (maybe size kink but only if you take it that way), jeonghan cameo and he's a menace, lots of fluff at the end (but also kinda throughout), please lmk if i missed any warnings! notes | this is a nsfw sequel to a sfw fic on my main writing blog @junkissed called sounds of the season, which is part of my series of winter-themed fics! if you haven't already, i would highly recommend reading that before reading this, since the stories are pretty closely connected. thanks to @onlymingyus for reading over this for me <3 i hope you all enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the first part. also like i said in part 1 i have no idea how radio works so if it doesn't make sense just roll with it lmao

you’re just putting the last finishing touches on your final paper when your phone buzzes. you glance down, grinning when you see junhui’s name on the screen.

unable to hide the butterflies in your stomach, you press a button to accept the call. “hi, junnie.”

“oh! hi,” his voice plays through your speaker with a giggle. “hey, i like that. ‘junnie’. do you want a nickname? but your name is so pretty, i don’t wanna change it–”

“whatever you want is fine,” you say, trying to hold back a smile. god, he’s cute.

“okay. i’ll think about it. oh, wait, yeah!” he says suddenly, as if he’s just remembered why he’s calling. “jeonghan left town early this week so it’s just me in the studio today, and it’s our last show of the semester. so anyway, do you wanna come over?” he stops, stumbling over his words. “well, not like, come over come over, i mean, we can just hang out, i–”

“give me half an hour,” you laugh, endeared by his eagerness.

“yay!” he cheers, and you shake your head with a smile.

half an hour later, a text pops up on jun’s phone, alerting him that you’re waiting outside the building. he leaps out of his chair, an excited grin on his face as he flings open the door and dashes downstairs to let you in.

he’s out of breath by the time he reaches the communications lab door, leaning on the push bar to let you in. “sorry, forgot they locked it already,” he pants.

“it’s fine,” you giggle. “so… everyone else is gone?”

he nods. “yeah, mr. choi said as long as i don’t mess with anything he’ll let me close by myself, so they all left early for break.”

you smile and hold out your hand for him to take, and he beams, hastily grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

he leads you up the stairs to the sound booth, squeezing your hand the whole way.

it’s your second time being in the school’s recording studio, but the feeling is still new and exciting. you definitely understand now what jun meant when he said being around all the equipment is a lot of fun.

once inside, he shuts the heavy door with a click, locking the door and flipping on the “on air” light. not that anyone could get in anyway, but it’s a habit he doesn’t want to accidentally get out of before he comes back next semester.

he slides in front of the computer for a second, queueing another song so he has more time to grab what he’s designated as “your chair”; the comfiest one in the studio, according to him.

he pulls it over next to his chair and pats the cushion for you to sit. you giggle and plop down on the seat, scooching closer to him once he’s sat in his own chair.

he raises his eyebrows at you with a grin, then clears his throat and moves closer to the microphone as the song ends to do his job.

ever since you accidentally admitted to him that you like the way his voice sounds, he’s teased you about it—or at least, attempted to tease you about it. he's too sweet for his own good, so even when he tries to poke fun at you it comes out like a compliment.

he presses the red button and begins to talk. “that was one of the classics, ‘a holly jolly christmas’ by burl ives. coming up next, another favorite, ‘the christmas song’ by michael bublé, and more great songs on your favorite program: 111.7fm’s sounds of the season.”

he lets go of the button and sits back in his chair, spinning it around to face you as the slow music starts softly playing. “hi,” he says shyly. “did you like that?”

you smile. it’s a little bit of an odd question, but you’ve started to understand his awkwardness; he just needs a little encouragement. “i always like it. you’re really good at this.”

“i like it a lot,” he grins back, bouncing his head in excitement. “can i kiss you now?”

you laugh at his enthusiasm but nod, leaning forward to press your lips to his. he sighs into your mouth, his hands falling naturally to your waist. for supposedly not going out much, jun is really, really good at kissing, you’ve quickly learned over the last few days. how he got so good at it, you may never know, but the feeling of him pressed against you is too perfect to waste time questioning why.

despite being surrounded by the cold, metal recording equipment, the sound of michael bublé’s crooning voice and the gentle warmth of junhui’s lips makes the studio feel like the coziest place on earth.

his hands tug at your waist and you slide easily out of your chair and onto his lap, sitting sideways across his legs, never breaking the kiss.

he pulls away for a second, his cheeks dusted with pink. “let me… put the playlist on,” he says, his voice a little breathier than usual.

you hum in confusion, attention still focused on the curve of his lips and the little noises he makes when he’s kissing you. “what playlist?”

he laughs. “for the show. so we can keep doing… this, and not have to worry.”

“wait, so you mean, not all of it is live?”

he shakes his head. “almost all of it is, but there’s a backup playlist in case we get busy and can’t sit around pressing buttons for the whole hour. i used it a couple weeks ago when i had to finish my chem paper.”

he spins the chair around, facing you both in front of the computer screen and tapping a few buttons on the keyboard. he turns a dial on the soundboard and the background music in the studio gets lower, so quiet you need to strain to hear it.

he hums, and your attention turns away from the machinery and back to his eager smile.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks softly.

you giggle and put your hands around his neck. “you don’t have to ask every time.”

so he’s pushing his lips on yours again, kissing you like you’re the most delicate thing in the world.

and that’s when you feel it. the butterflies deep in your stomach that make you want to do things no person should be doing in a school building.

he pulls away for a second to catch his breath. “you’re so pretty,” he says dreamily, and you hate the way it immediately sends shivers down your spine, landing directly at your core.

you hold back a whimper and shift the way you’re sitting, moving so each leg is on either side of his legs, straddling his lap.

he pushes his mouth against yours, hands gently kneading your hips. your fingers dance beneath the bottom of his shirt, fingernails gliding over the warm, soft skin of his stomach and feeling his abs contract at your touch.

“wait,” he whimpers, and you pull back immediately, taking your hands off of him and putting them on your thighs.

“do you want me to stop?” you ask quietly. shit, you hope you haven’t completely ruined this by going too fast.

“no!” he nearly shouts, looking panicked, then clears his throat. “no,” he repeats. “i don’t want you to stop. i’m, just…” he trails off, avoiding your gaze.

“you can tell me, junnie,” you say gingerly, wanting him to be comfortable.

“i know,” he whines. “i’m… embarrassed,” he says, voice small.

“i’m not going to laugh at you,” you say softly.

“i’m not– i haven’t–” he freezes. you give him a small smile that you hope looks encouraging, and it must be, because he sighs and starts again. “i’m a… virgin,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“oh! that’s all?” you ask, taking his hand and threading your fingers in between his. he looks up at you, trying (and failing) to hide the surprise in his expression. “you don’t need to be embarrassed. everybody has a first time.”

you pause, not wanting to force him into doing this if he really isn’t ready. you don’t care, you have plenty of ways of getting yourself off if he wants to wait longer. because you are willing to wait. “we don’t have to now, junnie,” you say. “i’ll wait as long as you want me to.”

“i want to now,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “i just… don’t know what to do,” he mumbles.

“that’s fine,” you whisper, bringing your other hand up to his face and kissing his cheek tenderly. “we’ll go slow, and you tell me what you want.”

he hesitates, then tentatively places his hands on your waist, still holding your hands. “i want to kiss you again.”

you smile. “i can do that.”

and you lean back in, pressing your lips to his. gently at first, until he grips your waist a little harder and starts kissing you a little deeper. you let him get used to it, allowing him to set the pace he wants.

testing the waters, you push down on his lap a little, starting to grind lightly on his crotch. he whimpers and tugs at your hips to help you, beginning to fall into a steady rhythm.

you stay like this for a while, leisurely making out on his lap, for longer than you normally would with someone else. but this isn’t someone else, this is junhui, and you’re more than content going as slow as he wants. plus, all this is just making you wetter and wetter as time goes on, riling you up the more you think about what’s to come later.

you can feel him getting harder underneath you, and you moan into him, eagerly but patiently waiting for him. his hands climb up your back, hooking around your shoulders and pulling you almost completely flush with his chest.

he pulls away after a minute, lips red and puffy from the contact and breathing hard. “don’t– you need a c-condom, when… so you, don’t get pregnant?” he stutters out, struggling to get the words out and to stop from bucking his hips against you.

“i have an iud, it’s alright,” you say, also panting for breath.

“okay.” he exhales and leans back, letting go of your hips.

you look at him in confusion at his sudden pause. “why…?”

he stares at you. “uh, don’t you have to go put it in? or did you do that before you got here?”

you snort. “my iud? no, it’s in all the time. it doesn’t come out.”

“oh,” he says, his cheeks flushing pink. “sorry, i didn’t know–”

“it’s okay, junnie. don’t apologize,” you say, trying your hardest to hold back a laugh. poor sweet, oblivious junhui. you’re not laughing at him, you’re laughing at how adorably clueless he is. you find yourself hoping you might be the one to help him understand these things, if he wants you to.

“have you… before?” he asks shyly, avoiding your eyes again.

you pause, knowing he’s already embarrassed and trying to answer him as gently as possible. “yes,” you say finally, and his face droops a little at your response. “but that doesn’t mean anything. it’s my first time with you, too, so we’re learning about each other. that’s all it is. so just… don’t think about it, okay? the only thing i’m thinking about right now is you.”

his cheeks are a deep shade of pink, but he nods. you take his hands carefully and put them at the hem of your shirt, guiding him to pull it up and over your head. you unclasp your bra and turn around to toss it over to your chair.

“now your turn,” you say gently, looking up at his eyes, which are still focused on your boobs.

“ju-un,” you murmur in a sing-song voice, and his eyes snap back to your face. “do you want to keep going?”

“yeah,” he chokes out. “i mean– yes. yes, please.”

you coo at his manners, moving off of his lap to wiggle your pants down your legs. his eyes are completely transfixed on your body, admiring every inch of you that he can see.

“do you want to now?” you ask, and he nods rapidly. he stands up and throws his shirt off, and his pants are quick to follow until he’s sitting back in his chair in only his boxers. the lines of his stomach seem even more defined in the low light of the studio, and you so desperately want to run your hands up and down his torso, and feel every inch of him, but– one thing at a time.

you slide your panties off and go back to your position straddling his lap. “is this okay?” you ask again.

“mhm,” he hums lowly, and you feel it deep in your abdomen, walls clenching around nothing at the sound.

his eyes dart around your face, and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair, tucking it gently behind his ear. “are you ready?” you ask softly.

his eyes widen, and he springs into action, his hands flying to your waist again. “oh! okay, yes, yes, um…”

you try not to giggle at his enthusiasm. you trail your hand carefully down to the waistband of his shorts, slipping the tip of your finger inside the elastic. “you have to take this off, junnie,” you whisper.

“mm, okay,” he whines, and you lift up a little so he can slide them down without standing up. he kicks them off and you sit back down, looking down to see what you’re working with. now that he’s fully hard, you can see that he’s… big, much bigger than you expected from a man this shy.

but who are you to judge, so you adjust on his lap, sitting up to reach below you and take his cock in your hand, positioning it at your entrance. he whimpers at the contact as you slowly drag his tip through your folds, spreading your wetness around.

“you just sit here and let me do all the work, baby, okay?” you hum, gripping his shoulder with your other hand. “let me make you feel good, hm?”

he lets out a garbled noise in response, barely comprehending your words at how engrossed he is with the way you’re holding his cock so delicately, waiting to push it inside and finally feel you.

“junnie, need you to use your words, honey,” you say gently, moving the hand on his shoulder to lightly cup his jaw, lifting his chin so his gaze lands on your face. “you have to tell me if you don’t like something or you wanna do something different, okay?

“i wanna do you,” he says, staring blankly into your eyes, and that’s when you know he’s already gone.

you giggle. “i know, baby. you’re going to. but you have to talk to me.”

“‘cause you like my voice.”

you resist the urge to cringe, still embarrassed that that’s the thing he remembers about you. “yes, i do, but no, that's not why. you need to tell me if you want to stop, at any time, and we’ll stop, okay?”

hearing your tone get serious, he seems to snap out of it a little. “okay,” he whimpers. “can i…?”

he trails off, and you shake your head. you know he’s shy, but you can’t let him off the hook every single time, or else he’ll never learn. “can you what, honey? use your words.”

by now the tips of his ears have turned red, and he’s beginning to lose control, his hips starting to grind against you involuntarily. “can i… fuck you?” he rasps.

“of course you can,” you coo, slipping your hand behind his neck and kissing him gently. “good job, baby.”

he mewls at the praise, and you finally start to sink down on his cock. it burns at first with how girthy he is, but soon the stretch feels good, and you have to fight to keep yourself upright on his lap, soft whimpers escaping your lips.

he groans, throwing his head back against the back of his chair, his grip on your waist tightening. it takes some time, but you finally sit all the way down on his lap, legs splayed on either side of his hips.

immediately he thrusts up into you hard, and you yelp, pushing on his shoulders to get him to stop. “wait!” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut in pain. “just… wait a second first.”

“s-sorry,” he whines, his adam’s apple bobbing with each labored breath.

“s’okay,” you breathe, beginning to adjust to the feeling of his thick cock throbbing inside you. “you’re… big, gotta– gotta give me a second, oh my god.”

he hums absently, clearly pleased with your response, but he manages to stop moving for a little bit.

you sit still on top of him, your muscles gradually beginning to relax as you get used to the feeling.

he sighs, his hands sliding up your back, caressing your skin beneath his fingertips. “feels so good, just wanna… fuck, just wanna be inside you forever.”

you would be surprised at the sudden lewdness of his words, if you weren’t so focused on the way the tone of his voice has abruptly dropped an octave. he’s starting to get more comfortable, you can tell, and you won’t lie: it’s dangerous for you.

“can– are you okay now?” he asks, eyes focused back on your face again.

“mhm,” you manage, letting out a short exhale. you start to wind your hips in circles, bouncing slowly on his lap as his hands roam your body, touching every inch of you as if he’s trying to memorize every last curve.

it’s a gentle pace; although much too slow for you, you’re hoping it’s just right for junhui to start out with. you’re not used to being on top, so you’re doing your best to keep up, but your thigh is starting to cramp from the position you’ve been sitting in and having to do the work yourself.

he must notice your discomfort, because his hands fall back down to their place at your waist, kneading your skin as he lifts his hips against you in rhythm.

“can i take over?” he mumbles, voice breathy. “please, let me, please.”

“yes, please,” you sigh, your head falling forward to rest on his chest. his skin is burning hot beneath your cheek, and you exhale, closing your eyes from exhaustion.

as soon as you relax and stop moving your hips, his own start moving immediately, your surprised cry punctuated by hard thrusts up into you, over and over again.

you’re still trying to figure out where the hell he got all this stamina from when he starts murmuring in your ear, sweet, dirty whispers as he pounds into you from below.

“you’re so… beautiful, oh my god,” he says in the low voice you’re still struggling to get used to hearing come out of his mouth. “you’re so good, wanna have you like this forever, please–”

“jun, ke–keep talking, please,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut in pleasure.

“you like my voice, but you sound so pretty right now,” he groans. “you should hear yourself. wanna hear you cry and make you feel so good, wanna hear you– god, wanna fuck you like this all day and never stop.”

you let out a moan, his words going straight through you. the rumble in his chest as he speaks reverberates against your head.

the combination of his brutal pace along with the innocently filthy words from his mouth brings you right up to the edge, and you feel the knot in your abdomen tightening.

you shift a little, moving up so you can wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

his hips falter for half a second at the contact, but he recovers quickly, wrapping his long arms around you and pressing you flush against his chest, jerking you up and down on his cock with fervor.

“you’re so pretty, you’re so beautiful, you’re so perfect,” he babbles, somehow remembering to keep talking you through everything. “love you so much– fuck, thank you, you’re so amazing, you’re so–”

you almost miss the four-letter word that slips out in between his praises, but it rings through your ears, nestling itself in your heart. you decide to ignore it for now, too focused on chasing your rapidly approaching high, but you promise yourself you’ll talk to him after this is all over and figure out what this is between you two.

you whine, breath catching in your throat as your own words tumble out of you in a constant stream. “keep going, jun, please– keep going, so close, please, junnie please, need you–”

“are you gonna cum? you’re so perfect, please cum for me, please, baby, lemme hear you.”

“fuck, yes!” and with that you’re catapulting over the edge with a sob, clenching around his cock as your orgasm slams into you.

he keeps thrusting into you, not once stuttering as he fucks you through your high, content to keep going and going and going until–

“jun,” you call out weakly, head swirling as you try to sit up. “jun. jun, you can s-slow down.”

his hips begin to stop, slowing down until he’s gently rocking you back and forth on his lap. “did you cum already?” he asks in surprise. like a dork.

you choke out a laugh, head lolling as your arms loosen around his neck. “yeah. yeah, i did.”

“oh.”

if you weren’t so exhausted already, you would burst out laughing. “you’ll figure it out,” you wheeze, hoping it sounds reassuring.

he starts to move his arms to let go of you, still wrapped around your torso, but you whine and he freezes.

“just… stay here first,” you say, letting your eyes fall shut for a second.

“why?”

you sigh. “because it’s nice.”

“oh,” he says again. he settles back into the chair, holding you on his lap, arms wrapped around you, just sitting quietly.

after a few more seconds of peace you pull yourself upright, pushing your hands against his chest.

“ …what now?” he asks quietly, eyes finding your face.

“you didn’t cum yet, right?” you say. he hums out a no. “then we keep going.”

he yelps in surprise when you start to lift yourself off his lap, his still-hard cock slipping out of you, now soaked in your juices. “don’t we have to wait for you?”

you fight the urge to slap your hand over your forehead. “i can cum more than once, honey. we don’t need to wait,” you say with the straightest face you can muster.

he nods, taking in this clearly unheard of information.

“do you want me to suck you off?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you.

“wh-what?” he stutters, face turning red, clearly not expecting it.

you take in a deep breath. “where do you want to finish?” you try instead, thinking it might help him decide.

“where will you let me?” he replies, wide eyes searching yours as if it’s a trick question designed to make him fail and you’re hiding the answer somewhere in your tender gaze.

“wherever you want, junnie.”

he pauses, like he’s making sure you aren’t lying to him. “can–” he clears his throat and starts again, more sure of himself. “i have an, um… idea.”

“mhm,” you breathe, watching him expectantly.

“do you think i could, maybe… stand up? and, have– you, over the…” he trails off, gesturing to the empty table beside you and hoping you’ll understand what he’s trying to say.

“you want to bend me over and fuck me on the table?” you translate for him, blinking.

instantly his cheeks flare, the shyness returning. “well, i… i. no, um, uh–”

“you can say yes, junnie. it’s hot.”

“you think so?” he squeaks in shock.

you giggle. “yes. you can do whatever you want to, just ask me first.”

his face breaks out into a wide grin. “okay. will you please, um, follow me?” he asks, holding out his arm like a waiter leading you to a table at a restaurant. if he wasn’t so damn cute you definitely would’ve smacked him by now.

you finally move off of his lap and step away, giving him room to move from his chair. you’d forgotten how big he is until he stands up, towering over you, and it sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. he turns and starts walking away, expecting you to follow him.

you laugh and grab his arm, pulling him back. when he looks at you in curiosity, you take his large hands and place them on your waist, motioning for him to guide you.

his mouth falls into an ‘o’ and he follows your lead, pushing you by your hips over to the table.

he stands behind you, caging you in against the table with his tall frame but otherwise not doing anything. you glance over your shoulder at him, nodding in approval.

his hands leave your waist and ever so gently press on your lower back to tilt you over. you comply, letting him move you how he wants.

“is that good?” he asks softly.

“it’s great,” you say, wiggling your ass playfully. “good job asking.”

he hums, so low it’s more like a growl, and it sends another shiver down your spine. at this angle you can feel his dick pressed against your ass, hard and throbbing.

he grinds against you, dragging his cock up and down your hole. you know he’s not doing it intentionally to tease you—you’re not even sure if he’s capable of that—but it does plenty to rile you up.

“junnie, please?” you gasp out, writhing your hips in search of friction, anything. his grip tightens on you, stilling your movements.

“what do i do?” he whispers.

“put it in,” you whisper back, unable to stop the giggle that slips out. he whines in annoyance, so you stop, giving him real advice this time. “just go slow. you can do it, baby.”

you angle your ass up, hoping to give him better access to your dripping hole. he’s already been inside you once, so surely he can find it again… right?

your expectations are clearly too high, because suddenly you feel his tip pressing in between your ass cheeks, and he’s—

you yelp, and he freezes, his hands flying off of you. you reach behind and stick your index finger into your pussy, using the rest of your fingers to spread your folds apart so he can see. “this one, baby.” at least he was going slow, like you said.

“oh! sorry, i’m so sorry,” he mumbles, and even without looking you already know he’s redder than a tomato.

“jun. don’t apologize. it’s okay,” you say softly. you move your hand away from your pussy and reach it out to him, craning your neck to see him. you wave your fingers at him, and he takes your hand, automatically twining his fingers with yours. it makes you smile. “just go for it, honey.”

“okay,” he breathes, and he starts slowly pushing into you again (the right one this time).

tiny gasps fall from your lips as you feel him fill you up again, stuffing you with his cock, inch by careful inch. once he bottoms out you exhale, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in.

when you don’t feel any more movement, you realize he’s stopped, waiting. you almost whine at how cute and considerate he is, but instead you just squeeze his hand. “baby, you can move.”

“okay,” he says again, and pulls out carefully before slowly pushing back in.

you moan as he starts to increase his pace, rapidly pumping into you as his hips smack against your ass. you arch your back a little, trying to angle him in deeper. each powerful thrust pushes you against the table, your hip bones hitting the edge in a way that’ll definitely leave bruises. but you can’t bring yourself to care when junhui’s thick cock is thrusting into you like his life depends on it.

still holding onto his hand, you slip your other hand down to run your fingers over your clit, rubbing small circles. you can feel the pressure in your abdomen growing, and—

“fuck, you’re so tight,” jun groans, voice thick with need, and he begins pushing into you even harder than before, something you didn’t even think could be possible. you whine and move your hand from your clit back to the edge of the table to stop yourself from ramming into it.

he notices your elbow bent at an awkward angle to protect yourself, so he lets go of your hand and snakes around your stomach to pull you back so you’re standing upright, both his arms wrapped securely around your body. “feels so good… god, wish i had done this sooner, you’re so amazing, so perfect, for me.”

you whimper at his words, unintentionally clenching around him. “jun,” you cry out softly.

“fuck, baby, say my name again– please, like that, baby, please say it, again,” he begs you, fingers pressing into your skin that you’re sure will leave you covered in little oval-shaped bruises by the time he’s done.

“jun! please, i’m so close, jun,” you moan, repeating his name over and over again like a mantra, getting closer and closer to your release with each syllable.

“i’m cl-close too, baby, please… you’re so good, fuck! you’re so good.”

the constant praise is almost too much, and with one more sharp thrust you’re coming undone on his cock for the second time. your legs wobble as you struggle to stay standing, your hands coming up to hang on to junhui’s strong arms wrapped around you for support.

he whines loudly, and you know he must be getting close, too. “can i– can i cum on your back?” he pants out, still gripping you tightly. as much as he really, really wants to cum inside you, he figures it might be messier than cumming on you. and besides, he doesn’t want to get too greedy; it is only his first, after all.

“yes! yes please, yes, jun,” you manage, still wading through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

a little harder than he intends, he’s shoving you roughly down onto the table again, pulling his dick out of you to jerk himself over you.

“junnie, please,” you whimper out weakly, and the sweet sounding words on your lips have him choking back a sob as he cums, thick spurts of white painting your lower back.

he keeps moving his hand on his cock until he’s completely finished, panting heavily. by the time he’s done you’re both sticky with sweat, breathing like you’ve just run a marathon.

you let out a long sigh, feeling exhausted but satisfied. silence settles over the studio, the music long stopped, but you can’t tell if it’s a good silence or a bad silence.

you realize you’d closed your eyes while jun was cumming, and when you don’t feel his touch anymore, you slowly pry them open again, wondering where he went.

you prop your head up in your hands and look behind you to see jun hastily pulling on his boxers and jeans.

your jaw drops in horror. you’d thought, with his inexperience, he wouldn’t be like all the other guys who fuck and then take off, but apparently, you thought wrong.

“jun!”

his head whips around as he pulls his zipper up, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“are you seriously gonna just leave?”

his mouth falls open. “no! of course not! i was just putting my pants back on.”

your expression softens. “oh,” you say quietly, face flushing at having jumped to conclusions so quickly. “sorry.”

“why would i wanna leave after this?” he frowns, looking genuinely appalled at the mere idea that someone might do that. “you’re still here.”

“i thought, since–” you start, then pause. discussion for another time. “nevermind, it’s not important. but why were you putting your pants on like you were gonna leave?”

you’re the one feeling embarrassed, but it’s junhui that turns red and starts stuttering. “well, i– um, i didn’t want you to… see…”

you laugh and put your head back in your arms. when you don’t say anything, he calls out your name nervously, and you look back over at him.

“junnie, your dick was just in me. twice. i don’t care what it looks like.”

“okay,” he says shyly, but his fingers still fumble with the button of his jeans.

you sigh once he finishes adjusting his pants. whatever makes him more comfortable, you suppose. “jun, can you… help me clean up now, please?” you ask timidly.

he glances over at you, looking like he’s about to ask why you need help, but then he sees you still bent awkwardly over the table and his cum still covering your back, and his eyes widen. “oh! shit, yeah– yes, i’m so sorry, i will–” he stammers, almost tripping over his backpack in his hurry to go get a tissue from the box by the door.

you sigh, more exhausted than mad, knowing you can’t really fault him. he comes back over a second later, gripping a wadded-up handful of tissues.

he drops them on your back and begins wiping at your skin, gingerly cleaning you off. when he’s satisfied with his work, he balls up the tissues and tosses them into the small can by the door.

“oh!” he says, realizing. “i think we have antibacterial wipes in here too, do you want me to use one of those? er, wait, i don’t know if they’re safe for skin…”

with your back (mostly) clean again, you stand up, wincing at the ache in your hips. “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. i’ll shower when i get home.”

you limp over to your chair, picking up your clothes and sitting down to start getting dressed again.

when jun finishes pulling his shirt over his head and looks over at you he gasps, seeing the bruises across your hips and tummy. “holy shit! did i do that?” he asks, looking horrified, and you look down to check.

“oh. yeah, that and the table,” you shrug, hooking your bra behind your back.

“i’m sorry,” he says, voice quivering, and he genuinely looks like he’s about to cry until you convince him you’re alright and he didn’t do anything wrong.

“it’s not supposed to hurt, though, i thought,” he frowns. “i don’t want to hurt you. i lo– um, like you,” he says, “why would i want to hurt you?” he catches himself quickly, but you heard what he started to say. you decide now isn’t the best moment for you to bring it up, so you leave it alone.

“sometimes people like it when it hurts. sometimes people like it not to hurt. everybody’s different,” you tell him instead.

he nods, thinking. “i… liked this,” he says finally.

you smile, finishing putting the last of your clothes back on. “good, i’m glad. you’re supposed to enjoy it.”

“did… you like it?” he asks tentatively.

“yes, i did like it,” you giggle, and he beams, clearly proud of himself. and he should be. obviously it wasn’t the most perfect of your life, but when is it ever? it was close enough to perfect that it might as well be.

“you live on campus, right? so i don’t need to walk you to your car?” he asks, grabbing his jacket that somehow fell on the floor and tossing it onto his chair as he starts to shut everything down in the studio.

you sigh. damn, you’d forgot about this part. sure, a couple hours ago you could walk just fine to the communications building on the complete opposite side of campus, but you hadn’t planned on getting railed within an inch of your life so you hadn’t exactly thought to bring your car. “yeah, but i… it’s on the south end, and i probably won’t be able to walk very far,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “i’ll take the shuttle.”

he frowns. “i’m not gonna let you take the bus. i can give you a ride.”

“you don’t need to, jun.”

“yes, i do,” he says assertively, and it startles you enough to meet his eyes. you haven’t ever heard his voice that firm, and when you look up his expression is as equally determined as his tone. not that you’d ever admit it to him, but it is kind of… hot.

you decide not to argue with him, knowing you won’t be able to change his mind anyway. you nod an ‘okay’, and his face instantly brightens to the awkward, nerdy jun you’re used to, beaming like he did when you first agreed to another date, back in the café what feels like ages ago.

“are you doing anything tonight?” you ask, watching him shut down the equipment and turn all the knobs and dials to an off position.

“no. i mean, i was gonna catch up on my show, but then, i didn’t expect for… this, to happen, so…” he shrugs. “i don’t know.”

“do you wanna come over? i… i mean, not to do anything. just… wanna be with you.” your voice comes out smaller than you intend it to, but jun still hears you loud and clear.

“yeah,” he grins. “yeah, that would be really cool.”

he pauses, looking like he wants to ask you something but not sure if he should. “can i give you a hug?” he says finally.

you smile. only junhui would ask for something as small and sweet as a hug after having sex. “yes, please.”

he crosses the room in two strides, barely giving you time to process before he’s squeezing you in his arms. you sigh and automatically melt into his arms, inhaling the perfumey scent of his cologne lingering on his wrinkled clothes.

it feels… good, being cared about.

he finishes shutting everything down quickly and grabs his things, swinging his backpack over his shoulder as he flips off the lights and closes the door behind you, making sure it’s locked before heading down the stairs.

you hate the way your legs tremble going down the steps, cursing him for being so good at his first time, because who the hell is that good their first time? already at the bottom of the stairs, jun looks back to see where you are and why you aren’t beside him, and, seeing you gripping onto the side railing for support, he dashes back up the steps two at a time to grab your arm and help you.

“you weren’t kidding when you said you couldn’t walk,” he giggles, holding the door open for you, and oh my god you want to hit him. “does that always happen? i thought people always just made that up to sound cool.”

“yes, i wasn’t kidding, and no, it doesn’t always,” you mutter, face heating in embarrassment. “depends on the person and how rough it is.”

his smile widens, the implied meaning of your words sinking in. “so what you’re saying is, my di–”

“junnie, if you finish that sentence, i swear to god i will never have sex with you ever again.”

he giggles, but he shuts his mouth, helping you the rest of the way to his car in silence. this time you know for sure, it’s a good silence.

his car is nicer than you’d expect a man’s car to be: clean and fairly organized, and there’s no half-eaten fast food in the backseat. he swings open the door for you and tries to help you sit down, but you swat his hand away.

he jogs around to the driver side door and slides into the seat, slamming it shut behind him. he buckles up, then grabs a candy cane from the pile in the cupholder and holds it out to you. “candy cane?”

“i’m… good,” you laugh, forcing yourself not to make a joke about having better things to suck on. why does he even have those in his car?

the ride to your apartment complex is pleasant. as expected from the radio man himself, as soon as the key is in the ignition, he turns the radio on, humming along to every song. you find yourself spending most of the drive staring at him, studying the tiny features in his cheeks when he smiles and the way his adam’s apple bobs when he hums.

after a shower, clean pajamas, and a raid of your refrigerator for snacks and something to drink, you’re snuggled up on the couch with jun, catching up on the show he wanted to watch. it’s the middle of some random season and you have no idea what’s going on, but you don’t care. just being here with him is more than enough for you, and you’re glad he’s enjoying being here, too.

“do you have a voice kink?” he asks suddenly at one of the commercials.

you nearly choke on your gatorade. “i– well, i mean… i didn’t used to, but…” you sputter out, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. “where did you even hear that?”

“jeonghan said you might.”

you scoff. you still haven’t met junhui’s broadcasting partner yet, but you already have some choice words in mind for him when you do finally get to have the pleasure of meeting him. “well, tell him to keep his thoughts to himself,” you say, taking another smaller sip and avoiding his grin.

“so is that a yes?”

you roll your eyes and ignore him, which might as well be a yes, but you choose not to admit it. you know you definitely need to talk to him about… everything, but he seems so happy right now, you don’t want to risk ruining the evening.

but luckily for you, he brings it up himself at the next commercial break.

“how long do i have to wait until i can ask you to be my girlfriend?” he says, muting the tv and looking over at you.

you laugh. “were we not… already?” you ask. “we’ve been on, like, four dates. usually that part happens before you have sex.”

he looks a little disappointed, for some reason. not exactly the reaction you’d expect when someone tells you they want to keep seeing you. “oh. um, well…” he starts, scratching at the back of his neck. “i planned it all out, i was gonna do this big thing and ask you. i thought i was supposed to. i meant to do it earlier, but…” he trails off, cheeks turning pink.

your expression softens. “you… can ask me now,” you say, putting your hand on his thigh.

“okay.” he clears his throat, sitting up straighter on the couch. “will you be my girlfriend?”

you try not to laugh at how serious he is, knowing he’s really, really trying. “yes, of course,” you reply, trying to match his seriousness.

“is that okay? that i didn’t do it right?” he asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of the blanket covering your laps.

you smile and bring your hand up to his cheek, pulling him towards you to give him a quick kiss. “you did it perfect, junnie.”

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alrightieaphroditie · 2 months

Text

just checkin' in | j.m.

*:·ﾟ✧ series masterlist

pairing *:·ﾟ afab!reader x joel miller wc *:·ﾟ 2.4k an *:·ﾟ it's here! the first part in a series i am veeery excited about!! this installment is pretty much straight fluff, but i had a blast writing it and getting back into joel's character. i cannot wait to see where this series takes me, and i really hope everyone enjoys reading it! this is slightly edited, but if there's anything huge that jumps out at you, please let me know! check the series masterlist for the series tags!

synopsis *:·ﾟ even when joel is miles away, he never fails to check in on his girl.

after checking for what quite literally had to be the millionth time, the folded-up letter was still sitting right where joel had set it before he left; propped up against your bookstack on the end table in your living room. not that you were expecting it to suddenly grow legs and run away or anything. but today was finally the day that you could open it, as specified by the man who wrote it himself, and by god, you wanted to make sure you knew where it was when you finally sat down to read it.

in the beginning, when you and joel first started up this little tradition of writing each other letters when he'd go off on the hunting trips, you would eagerly rip open his notes as soon as you were able to. joel always left very clear instructions to not open them until a certain date, and you always obliged, even though it wasn't like joel would really know when you actually opened them. you wouldn't be surprised if his senses started tingling if you even dared to go against his instructions, though. joel had a way of being so omnipresent with you; so attuned to your own being that even when he was gone, you swore you could still feel him with you.

after a little while, though, you learned to tame that eagerness and make a dedicated time for reading his letters. the excitement never left you fully, and you found that opening the letter was still all you could think about on the day of, all these months later. you spent your morning helping in the greenhouses, thinking of what joel could have written. you cleaned up your house during the afternoon, eyes gazing to the paper with your name on it, written in his surprisingly nice handwriting, far too often. and when you had dinner with ellie that night, all you could do was smile as she mentioned opening her own letter that morning, your foot tapping against the floor as you impatiently anticipated getting to open your own.

now, you were fresh out of the shower (ellie made one too many jokes about how much you had stunk after working all day, to the point where you couldn't really tell if she was joking or not), your hair done up in two braids, wearing one of joel's t-shirts and stirring some honey in your cup of tea. the window in your living room was cracked open, the crisp early spring winds causing your gauzy curtains to flutter across the hardwood floors. now, you finally tucked yourself into the corner of your couch, an ugly green thing that was shockingly comfortable, and tugged the blanket hanging on the back of it over your legs, getting comfortable.

balancing your mug on the arm of the couch, you reached over and finally pulled the letter into your lap. just seeing your name on the front had those silly little butterflies float through your stomach; something you felt far too often with joel. you steadied yourself with a deep breath, and, after taking a small sip of your tea, settled back into the couch, unfolding the crisp paper.

just checkin' in on you, sugar.

the first line of his letter was always the same, and yet it never failed to make you smile. he'd say those same words in person, too, when he came by to visit while you were out working, or when he'd stop by your place early in the morning before he went out to do his duties. you'd never get sick of hearing - or reading - those words.

hope you've been doin' alright. i can't believe they're makin' me go out again even though i just got back from another trip. swear these men can't do shit without me, especially tommy. i know he's the only reason why i'm out in the middle of nowhere, sleeping in a damn sack when i could be in your bed instead.

you couldn't help but snort at joel's irritation with his brother. the sibling rivalry between the miller brothers was never ending, though the majority of it was in good fun. joel was right, though. tommy was, in fact, the sole reason why his brother left for another trip so close to returning home from one; maria had told you that tommy complained that the group he was going with couldn't aim for shit and needed at least one more man who knew how to handle a gun.

the good thing, though, is that they're lettin' me get out of the next couple trips after this. i'll get at least a few good weeks with you, uninterrupted. as much as i like writin' these letters, and as much as i love reading what you've written me, i'd much rather be able to talk to ya in person. that way i could see your grin every time i say somethin' sweet to you, just like i bet you're doing now, huh?

once again, joel was right.

i gotta go pack up now, but i'll be back home to you any day now. take care of yourself for me, baby, just until i can get back to doin' it myself. i love you.

a wave of emotions hit you at once when you finished reading the letter. happiness, for his approaching homecoming. excitement, for those few weeks he'd be getting off. love, for the way he knew you and how he loved taking care of you. and, however faint, loneliness, for how much your heart ached to see him. he had been gone for a week now, and before that, the two of you had only had one day together after he had been gone for two. only a few days remained in this trip, though it still felt like forever.

you wouldn't let yourself dwell on that miniscule amount of pain, though. joel wouldn't want you to, so you knew better by now. instead, you reread his letter, hearing that slight drawl of his in your head, and grinning again just like he predicted. you held it to your chest as you sipped your lukewarm tea, as if your skin could absorb his words and cement his love into your bloodstream.

later, after your tea had gone too cold and you dumped it out in the sink, you carried yourself to your room, the hem of joel's shirt brushing delicately against your thighs. kneeling to the ground, your knees hit the worn wood floor as you dug underneath your bed, pulling out an old shoebox. inside were joel's previous letters, the box almost stuffed to the brim with them. you couldn't even imagine tossing them out, these little symbols of his love for you, so this was where you stored them, safely tucked away.

after placing the most recent one on top of the box and putting it back under your bed gently, you snagged the flannel joel had left from his side of the bed and put it on. now wrapped in his clothes, his scent, you felt closer to him. that silly thread of loneliness fluttered through your heart again, ever so briefly, but you brushed it off as you pulled back your quilt blanket and climbed into bed.

outside your window, you could just barely make out the moon high in the pitch-black sky and you wondered if joel was awake still, looking up at that same fixture. it was the comfort you felt at that thought that allowed you to close your eyes and drift off, and joel's lingering scent on the flannel was the last thing you remembered thinking of.

somewhere in the woods, miles away from the walls of jackson, joel sat on the damp ground, propped against a fallen tree log. his hand was in his jacket, his calloused thumb and forefinger brushing against the smooth paper folded into bits in the pocket.

he had requested first watch tonight, hoping to have at least some time to himself so that he could read your words. unlike him, you never gave any instructions for when to read your letter. you said once that he should just read it whenever he missed you, and he didn’t have the heart to tell you that if he did that, he’d be reading the letter the moment he stepped out of the border around town.

you had mentioned in passing, however, that you made a little ritual out of reading his letters, and so joel started putting off reading your letter, waiting until the date that he specified for you to open his. he knew it was silly, that the probability of you both reading the letters at the same time was slim, especially when he had to wait until the dead of night, when he had a small moment of free time. but it kept him going, so he continued to do it.

the last man in the group had just walked back to his sleeping bag, and joel was finally out in the campsite alone. he gently pulled your letter from his pocket, the jagged edges along one side showing him that you wrote this in your journal before ripping it out. the paper was smooth under his skin, and for a moment he simply stared at his name plastered on the front in your handwriting; the way the 'l' at the end of his name sloped off into a small heart.

a deep sigh parted his lips; somewhat from exhaustion, but mostly from the way his heartbeat kicked up just at the thought of you drawing that.

he had to shift against the wood slightly, sparing a glance around the site to make sure no one was paying him too much attention, just so the moonlight could hit the letter just right. he still had to squint slightly to focus, but that was more because of his age than the lack of lighting (you kept teasing him about trying to find some reading glasses, and now he wondered if he did actually need them).

with nimble fingers, he unfolded the letter and immediately his mouth quirked up in a small smirk.

hey there, cowboy. i hope the camping life is treating you well and not wreaking havoc on that back of yours. i'm starting to wonder if you're getting too old to go on those trips. surely having a senior citizen like yourself tagging along slows y'all down, no?

joel forced his sudden laugh into a cough, shaking his head at your attempt of a joke. it was no secret that joel was older than you, but that had never really brought up any strife in your relationship. everyone thought that you were both lucky to find something like what you had given the way the world was, that kind of storybook love people dreamed about. the kind he never imagined for himself.

you were the only one who continuously brought up the age difference, solely to crack jokes at his expense. ellie adored it, and your comments made him laugh, so he didn't really mind it.

seriously though, i hope you're taking care of yourself out there. i know you do, but i can't help but worry a little. you're needed here, so i just want you to do whatever you need to do to come back home. i mean it.

while you guys are gone, i think we're going to be setting up the patio area again in town since the weather is warming up. i heard maria talk about hosting another dance soon, so i'm putting it into writing that i want to dance with you at least once, miller.

i'll beg if i have to.

heat flamed his cheeks, his skin turning warm despite the cool breeze of spring floating through. his head tipped back, resting against the tree trunk as he closed his eyes for a moment. the two of you had only had one night together between his trips out of town, and ellie had spent the night at your house with joel that night, too. not that joel regretted that; he loved spending time together with his girls.

but god, did he miss touching you, feeling your soft skin underneath his rough hands, your weight on top of him, underneath him, your hair between his fingers, your lips against his. all of it. the first thing he did when he got back into town was remedy that, he'd swear on it.

i hear you coming down the stairs, so i have to wrap this up. geez, your footsteps are so loud. i love them, though. i love you, too, joel. stay safe, baby. i'll see you real soon!

a small heart followed the last word, and his gaze lingered on it for a moment while he absorbed your letter. reading your words was like a breath of fresh air to him, letting him fill his lungs with your love even if you weren't physically there. these letters gave him the energy, the will, to continue on. to make a point to go back.

for years, he never had anyone to return to, no one to really miss him if he were missing. he grew to accept that, felt comfortable being alone in this great, big world. he never imagined anything different, always felt he had no right wishing for something more. and now, somehow, he had two people who were eagerly anticipating his return.

joel brushed his knuckle against the corner of his eye, collecting the small gathering of water that had collected there after finishing your letter. clearing his throat, he sat himself up against the tree, gathering his gun into his lap to be more prepared for the evening watch. he never let go of your letter, though. the feeling of rubbing it between the pads of his fingers brought him a great sense of calm.

later, when tommy woke up to relieve joel from first watch, after he set up his sleeping bag and folded his jacket underneath him to act as a pillow, he reread your letter again and again, hearing your sweet voice in his head as he did. when he basically had it memorized, he let his hand fall to his chest. as the wind whistled through the trees, your note close to his heart, he finally allowed himself to fall asleep.

taglist *:·ﾟ @hiroikegawa

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corollaservant · 2 months

Text

Riding high - Getosuguruxfem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, one shot smut, reader doubts herself (lol), alcohol, no p in v, not dry but humping, 1,8k words

You met Suguru last month at a bar. He offered you a drink which you declined, you never accepted drinks from strangers. He laughed and proposed you go to the bar so you can see the bartender making your drink – he would only pay.

You had accepted his offer and chatted with him for a couple hours. It was surprising, how attractive and smart this man was. His slanted fox like eyes glimmering and hypnotizing, his smile charming you, he sure was a good listener. He’d remember every little detail you’d mention and ask you a lot of questions to get to know you. The same night he invited you to his house, you weren't dumb; his intentions were loud and clear yet you didn’t necessarily mind, his strong cologne only making you wanna fuck him right then and there, but you had politely rejected the offer, sleeping with strangers on day 1 wasn't something you’d usually do, even if these strangers were looking as fine as Suguru Geto. You did however give him your phone number so throughout the next couple of days you two would text each other.

On a random Saturday night you and your girlfriends decided to go out to this new place that had opened and when talking to Suguru, he asked you what you’d wear. You sent him a photo of your body with a skimpy fit on the couch, to which he hadn’t replied to your disappointment. After a couple hours you met up with your friends, a million thoughts running through your mind. Had he seriously gotten one sexy pic and dipped? Was he bored? Did he not even like your body? Stuff like that made you self conscious, especially when not communicated and you always fell down the rabbit hole of overthinking. Even though you had decided to not let it affect you, you were in the club downing drinks and shots, the bitter taste making you feel disgusting and dirty, while your friends were trying unsuccessfully to cheer you up. You thought that it was embarrassing caring so much for a man you hardly knew yet couldn’t shake the thought from your head.

It was 3AM and you couldn’t take it any longer, you really needed to text him what an asshole he was, leaving you on read and pretending to be busy or whatever the fuck he was doing so you texted him ‘’ you’re such an asshole lol’’. Not even 20 seconds later your phone was blowing up, his voice on the other line concerned.

‘’Where are you’’ he spoke.

‘’None of your business’’ you hiccuped, not able to form a response.

‘’ I’ll find it either way so why don’t you spare us both the time’’ he responded, a hint of concern audible in his tone.

You told him your location and he hung up leaving you high and dry yet once again. Your heart fluttered at the though he’d come but you brought your self quickly to your senses, this wasnt the time to overreact.

About half an hour later you saw him at the entrance, a tall dark figure looking around. He was fucking breathtaking, his hair half up half down, a simple black button down and black pants, making him look intimidating but so fucking hot. He quickly spotted you and approached you with a steady and furious pace.

‘’What the fuck are you doing?’’ he asked looking at your drunken state. ‘’and where the fuck are your friends?’’ he continued. You shrugged, they were probably there though when you turned your head around they were nowhere to be found. His worried tone had you heated, you wanted nothing but for him to pin you down but had to restrain yourself.

‘’Im taking you home’’ he exclaimed, forcefully grabbing your arm and leading you to exit. You hadn’t realised how drunk you were until the cold air hit you, he opened the passenger door for you and you got in his car, unable to protest. None of you spoke on your way home and without knowing it, he stopped, you were half asleep by the long drive. Looking around you figured this wasn't your place. ‘’This isnt my place!’’ you shouted and he laughed ironically. ‘’No shit, I brought you to my place since you couldn't give me an answer." he simply stated.

Normally you’d feel alarmed but there was something so secure about the man’s presence, his angry but caring expression convincing you this was a good idea- well you had been texting for a couple weeks after all, the assertiveness in his tone only making him more desirable.

He lived in a penthouse with an amazing view, you couldn’t help but wonder what this man didn’t have, because he was certainly fine as fuck and rich too apparently.

You took off your coat and sat on his comfortable couch. He brought you a bottle of water (sealed, a detail you remembered despite your drunken state) and looked at you. The situation was rather awkward, you didn’t know what to say and he didn’t seem to speak up either.

‘’Why didn’t you reply to my text?’’ you broke the silence, your tone sounded hurt.

‘’I didn’t see it.’’ he replied. His response pissed you off, more because he didn’t even try to add an excuse to it.

‘’Right’’ you mocked him, ‘’such a busy man, you couldn’t even answer your side quest’’ you spat. You didn't understand why you were so angry, you two weren't even dating in the first place.

You could tell your response shocked him but he regained composure pretty quickly.

‘’Is that what you think this is?’’

‘’Yes I do’’ you breathed out, scooting closer to him on the couch. He was man spreading without knowing it, his arms on his knees as he tilted his head to look at you, his lap looking really comfy and you couldn’t resist him any longer, his excuse or lack of it not bothering you anymore. ‘’Matter of fact..’’ you muttered, ‘’I think thats all there is’’ you said, pushing him back and sitting on him, your naked thighs under your skirt touching lightly at his pants.

He sighed and grabbed your shoulders, putting you back to your place ‘’Listen’’ he said. ‘’I don’t want to fuck you.'’

You were taken aback by his words but he continued ‘’at least not like this, not in your state’’ he said.

‘’Why not?’’ you frowned.

‘’I’d rather fuck you sober.’’ he replied without hesitation. ‘’You think I wouldn't fuck you after you sent me these pictures? I was at work and–"

you cut him off, kissing him. He froze for a second before cupping your face and kissing you back roughly.

He couldn’t contain himself or his needy hands any longer, he was desperately bringing you closer and closer, your hands all over each other, a deeper need fuelling you both, as you were slowly creeping back on him.

He positioned you right on his aching bulge, you could feel him through your soaked panties as he wanted nothing more but to flip you over, push your panties to the side and shove himself deep in your wet pussy.

He still wouldn’t do it though, man of his word and he stopped you while grinding on him ‘’I’m serious’’ he said, voice slightly rigid, ‘’about not fucking you tonight. ‘’

This man was so stubborn but his denial for whatever reason had you wanting him more, your pussy clenching around nothing and you could tell by the outline of his cock that he was wide and big, he felt so intoxicating.

‘’Then lets make a deal’’ you whispered in his ear, while you continued your slow tantalizing moves with your thighs, causing him to instictively buck his hips up.

‘’I'll ride you with my clothes on’’ you said, excitement rushing through you as you felt him twitch under you.

‘’We have a..mmhm ..deal’’ he sighed, now fully hard under you. You smirked as he attached his lips on your mouth, kissing you while simultaneously taking off your shirt with skill as he was exposed to your bare chest. His eyes widened with lust and he cupped your boobs starting to suck on your hardened nipples in circular motions. The feeling was too much, he was sucking, kissing and pinching them lightly, his cold fingers making you shiver. Your hands were grabbing his hair and tugging at it, your cotton panties staining his black garment.

‘’Take your skirt off for me’’ he said out of breath as you removed yourself from his lap and stood up, dizzy and almost tumbling over. Slowly and teasingly you stripped for him, removed it and remained in your pink underwear looking at him directly. His eyes travelled to your cunt, a wet stain decorating your core and instictively grabbed his dick, stroking it over the fabric.

‘’Now its time we took of yours’’ you said and drowsily approached him while taking off his black pants, his boxer briefs straining from his stiff cock, looking at you with lust and impatience.

You sat on his lap again, straightening the bulge to line up with your entrance as you moved slowly but rhythmically up and down on him. You could tell he was fully turned on, his calloused hands forcefully gripping your ass and moving your body back and forth, the friction so deliciously hot. You kissed him hungrily on the lips, a saliva string connecting your mouths, as you moved to his neck. From there his mouth was next to your ear, as he purred "you ride so fucking well doll, do you know that?" giving you goosebumps, your ears were your sensitive spot and his voice was so seductive, you thought you'd come if he kept it going. He was squeezing your hips hard, trying to thrust his cock on your soaked panties, as you repeatedly moaned and bit on his neck, gripping his hair even harder to gain composure and feel him on you till his head rolled back, perfectly angled for your sloppy kisses. ‘’I love it when you shiver’’ he went on. He rubbed himself on you in sync, the sensation too much for your stimulated clit, his cockhead directly on it and you felt ready to release from the friction. He could hear your lewd sounds and was pleased with himself.

‘’Are you coming in your panties? Such a good girl..’’ he exhaled.He was close too, your pussy had soaked practically soaked him, bare tits on his face and your hands tugging his hair viciously, all these drove him to thrust faster on the fabric, which did nothing for the gush mess you both made. He’d stain your underwear even more for you. In a swift motion, you forcefully bucked your hips onto his length, an overwhelming sensation from your clit taking over, as you spasmed and came screaming his name, Suguru's name– trembling from the arousal. He was starting to breathe even heavier, still in your ear as he rutted his cock on your clothed pussy, the contact too much for your overstimulated nub and he slapped your ass so hard, you winced from the pain. "F–fuuck...right there baby" he groaned as he came in long spurts, making a mess in his boxers and drenching your panties with a hot load, his cum too much to contain. You were both panting, your slick dripping onto his muscular thighs, his forehead sweaty and hands still on you trying to come down–he looked so angelic, tousled hair strands on his face and your love bites on his neck.

He kissed your forehead and gently stroked your hair, while you closed your eyes and rested your head on his heaving chest. Suguru couldn't wait till he had you sober soon– he'd stretch your pussy out properly this time.

#geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk brainrot #geto smut #corollaservant

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 2 months

Text

''Fight and Die'' Slightly darkAemond x AFAB Reader 18+ MDNI

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, abusive brother (but its not aemond) mentioned of forced marriages and duels, mentions of parental loss.

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

🔷Author's note: It might still be a little darkish but not as dark as usual. I think this is the closest to show aemond I ever got. So he still is not a unicorn yall but he is at least imo he is decent and nice.

🔷Wordcount :5133

Warnings below the cut

Special thanks to: @pterodactylterrace for spelling and grammar tips!!!:) ((it is much appriciated friend!)x

CW: Mention of oc's mother dying in childbirth, mention of treasons, also vaginal sex, oral sex (f recieving) fucking, dirty talk, smut, aemond being a little dark but nothing too extreme! Discussion of murder.

----

Only a few days ago, your brother swore he would restore your house, house Marthyralys back to it’s former glory, back to where it was during Maegor’s time. Your ancestor, Daeyor Marthyralys was a council member for king Maegor. His crimes eventually ended with him on the stake, being burned by dragon fire and ending with your family being banished from Westeros for almost a century.

That was until you and your brother Fyrand returned to the Seven Kingdoms. You remember how you first entered the Red

Keep, your hands shaking and your eyes scanning every inch of every room, taking in as much security detail and doors as you could. It was clear to you that these silver-haired people were not your friends. They were your enemies. Your brother, Fyrand, said so himself multiple times.

The Targaryens frightened you. Of course they did. They were your father’s killer, your older brother's killers, the reason your house became dragonless, why you almost starved to death. And aside from that, Targaryens are known for their short tempers and long grudges, their insanity and incest. There is much to fear from the dragon people. And so you do.

And now, two days later, you are married to the King's son, Prince Aemond Targargyen. He won the duel for your hand against Prince Jacaerys Velyaron, the Princess’s heir. You assumed Fyrand would prefer Jacaerys, as it would be his mother that one day will become Queen, but for some reason unknown to you, he had already made peace and assumed Aemond would win the duel. He was very certain of it when you visited him in the dungeon.

And he was right, as always.

Prince Aemond won the duel and humiliated prince Jacaerys. The wedding ceremony followed the same evening, as was custom in your house. The one-eyed Prince had done his research into your house, your brother, your traditions…even you. He knew of the full day rule when it comes to duel-marriages, and he used it to his advantage by forcing you into marriage with him on the same day he won your hand.

Fyrand simply had asked you to keep the prince happy and so far you like to think you succeeded. You have done your duties and even went as far to sleep with Aemond, which was surprisingly pleasant. He was not the beast he wants the world to think he is. He has not hit you. Not once. Nor forced you or hurt you. He is gentle. Kind, in a way. And so unmistakably broken.

Your brother assumed you would have no trouble winning Jacaerys and Aemond over, and in his head that might have made sense but outside of that skull, there is no magic in your veins. You can’t just snap your fingers and make Aemond fall in love with you. He is his own person and you have the feeling that even if you tried to manipulate him into doing your bidding, it would either be too obvious or end up in an argument.

Ever since you were born, you were loyal to your house. But now that you are married, you are starting to doubt everything you ever know. Aemond shows you kindness and grants you protection in ways you never thought possible. Ways you never dared to even dream of.

But the rest of his kin, his blood and his fire that roams the halls of the red keep, hells, even the bloody servants and the guards, from the kitchen wenches to the maids cleaning your chamber pots: They all despise you and your brother for the crimes of your ancestors. There is no winning these people over with whining by Aemond’s side, you need to show them that you are different. But how? Your personal life does not matter, it is your last name that defies you and that is still Marthyralys and not Targaryen, for better or for worse.

And therefore you are worried that you will never be accepted into the Red Keep. Not truly. At first, that did not matter to you. But now that you have met and came to know Aemond, you already developed complicated feelings for him in a very short time. And you know: You want his mother to like you. To at least approve of you. For the sake of your brother’s plans and Aemond’s approval.

She’s his mother, yes. But also the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You can imagine that Fyrand would like it if you became her friend, or even trusted advisor, some honerably position among court.

You are preparing for the meeting by putting on a different, less pious gown. Your old gown is disposed of, It slides down your body, bearing you half naked in front of your husband, who does his best to pretend to be busy with his book to notice. However, you notice his good eye, sometimes briefly lifting from the words on paper taking secret glances at your body instead. As if he’s not your husband yet, as if he is not entitled to you. ‘’Does your mother have a preference for a dress?’’ You ask him, as you pillage the closet that servant earlier had filled with gowns for you. Red, black, green, gold and even silver gowns end up on the ground as you quickly look everything over, your head drowning in fabrics and ideas of what Alicent Hightower would approve of.

Aemond no longer pretends to read, slamming the book shut so carelessly that you doubt he was even reading to begin with. ‘’She loves wearing green.’’ He says, politely, smiling and clearing trying to talk you into picking a green dress.

‘’That’s what I’m afraid of.’’ You mutter. You wearing green would be a declaration of war to Princess Rhaenyra. She would see it as an allyship with Alicent. And for now, it’s important to play and appease both sides, Fyrand told you that before you left Pentos.

‘’I would like it as well.’’

Aemond continues to push you slightly, standing up from the chair he was sitting on. His hands wrap around your waist as he puts the green dress in front of you, eyeing you despite standing behind you all thanks to the big mirror in his room. You nervously bite down on your lips, tasting a bit of blood. He picked a dark green gown with sleeves made of dark lace. The back is also made of lace almost exclusively for the corners. It is a beautiful gown. ‘’You’d look beautiful in this gown. Although,’’ He lowers his voice, whispering in your ear. ‘’I can’t make any promises it won’t be ripped before the next sunrise.’’

‘’When I rip it off your body when we are home, tonight.’’ He leaves several soft kisses on your neck, all the way to both your shoulders.

You stagger on your feet, shocked and pleasantly affected by his words. He grins, pleased with the effect and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek. ‘’Pick whatever you like, but know that Green is superior.’’ Those words echo a lot in your head as you compare the dress to a red more modest gown with less lace made of modest silk.

You doubt if Alicent would appreciate you showing up half covered in her rooms, wearing the lace green dress. It also perhaps would be chilly or awkward to wear as well.

So, you pick up the red dress. The fabric feels much softer, much more pleasant and warmer. You let your fingers pet and slide along the fabric, following where the stitches were once put. There is a golden belt to accompany the dress, a thin accessory. The shoulders have subtle details, but you can tell it is supposed to represent dragonscales. Perhaps a nice dress if you are meeting with Rhaenyra.

You hold the dress to your body, imagining yourself in the lush fabric. ‘’Hm. Opposite of Green.’’ Aemond comments, from where he leans against his desk. He pretends to be busy with cleaning it, putting aside quills, vials of ink and parchment.

You put the red gown back on the bed, and instead pick up a gorgeous soft blue coloured gown, with silver patterns of swirls on the sleeves.

‘’Blue?’’ You ask Aemond, tilting your head slightly.

He has one response and it is not a pleasant one. His nose slightly rises in disapproval and his stance becomes closed, as if he reminds himself to be careful around you. ‘’You do as you wish.’’

You sigh, careful to not roll your eyes at that. What a horrible answer. You do as you wish is not only dismissive, impersonal and cold but also vague. He truly seemed to care about the dress a moment ago and now he pretends he does not care at all? Who does he think he’s with? Your memory is not failing you yet.

You feel a sting and have to fight the tears, but instead of running away or hiding from him, you stand up to him. ‘’Don’t be like that. Just say you don’t like the gown.’’ In another time, you would’ve ran or cowered. Not anymore. No longer.

Aemond sighs, still with his mind elsewhere. ‘’It’s not the gown I don’t like…’’ He murmurs.

You wonder if it’s you he does not like anymore. ‘’Revaera,’’ he tries to touch you but you step out of his reach. Aemond sighs. ‘’I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t like the color blue.’’ He says. ‘’You wear what you want. Green, black, blue, fuck it, go nude. You’re a Princess now. Someone will always be offended.’’ And that is the truth and it terrifies you. Someone will always be offended. How do you please a world that will never be happy?

You look over the gowns, but can’t stand to wear the blue or red one anymore. But going with green is also not an option. You dig a bit further into the pile of gowns, and eventually you stumble upon a beautiful purple with silver piece. Your fingers touch the silverwork, feeling the metal. The last time you saw these colors, they were on your brother Kagyr, your mother Roysa, and your father Laeyol’s caskets. Purple, violet almost so dark purple it's nearly black, and clear untroubled silver. Symbolizing the pride and the unity of your house. You hear yourself take a deep breath. You tug the dress with you. You first put it on your body, fitting it without lacing the corset.

You dismissed all your maids and ladies maids, or rather, Aemond did that. ‘’I wish we didn’t dismiss all my maids.’’ You tell him, laughing despite a few lonely tears escaping your eyes. You do it subtly, so he does not notice it.

Yet your face is turned toward his own anyway, and he wipes away the tears, before leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. ‘’We can always hire other people.’’ Instead of calling someone else in, he steps behind you, and grabs the laces of your corset. He laces it for you. You look a lot better than you did a few days ago, and with you finally dressed and proper you two can go meet the Queen.

Aemond and you walk to her chambers. Your husband has long legs and could be there long before you but instead trails behind you to ensure you are not alone in the Keep. When passing statues and portraits, Aemond tells you about the history of the people behind it, making the trip to his mother’s rooms entertaining, and useful. You know some things about the Targaryens, but more information is crucial to your survival out here.

Aemond walks as a true prince, hands folded on his back, back straightened and his pace slow as if he is in no rush to get there, despite his long legs making this challenge impossible.

Soon, instead of late you both arrive in front of a majestic looking door that already somehow tells you just exactly who is waiting behind it. These are the Queen’s chambers. Her rooms, her den, in a way. The page announces you both, as the doors swing open.

You gulp, feeling the nails on your left hand in an impulse to pull again, but you have no more nails to pull or to rip off your fingers.

You and your husband both walk in.

When you enter the lavious and luxurious rooms of the Queen, she is sitting on a bench, with her feet pulled up under her. She reads an old looking book, her mind elsewhere, clearly.

Aemond politely clears his throat, and Alicent’s red haired head snaps up in his direction. You see kindness and love in her eyes, in a way you never saw yourself. You see a mother looking at her child. Her smile dies the moment she sees you, however. ‘’Ah, Aemond. There you finally are.’’ She says, ignoring you as if you are air. You keep smiling regardless, as you do want her to approve of you.

The tender, loving slender hands of your husband find your own once again, as he whisks you away to his mother, showing you to her, introducing you formally to the Queen. ‘’Mother, I brought someone. This is Revaera, my lady, and my wife.’’ Try as he might, Aemond Targaryen cannot stop the smile that slowly grows on his lips as he speaks those words, and he seems a different man when he looks at you.

You understand now is the moment to show your respect. You make a curtsy for the Queen. Alicent sits back down, closing the book.‘’I am glad you brought her here.’’ She tells Aemond, and you can’t help but uncomfortable at that. They are like farmers talking about their broodmare. Your opinion is clearly not required.

Your husband reaches out to touch his mother, hugging her in such a gentle way unfamiliar to you. You wonder what he is feeling when he hugs his mother. Does she feel warm? Did your own mother feel warm, did she hold you like that, before she died? Did she smell as nice as Alicent? Dozens of questions you never will get answers to.

The pain of seeing another child with their mother, is unfamiliar to you. You would never wish for another to go through what you did. But why did you have to go through that regardless?

The two break their hug, unaware of your feelings and your pain. Aemond gestures a bit vaguely to you. ‘’You told me you had questions for her.’’

Whatever could she want, indeed. She’s queen of the seven kingdoms, has a husband and you have been kind to anyone here except…

You close your eyes, softly cursing yourself. This is about that handmaid that you hit. The one who called you unworthy of carrying Aemond’s children. You just know it, when you see the poorly hidden rage in Alicent’s eyes.

Somehow you should have know that Alicent provided the maids, and that in upsetting them, you upsetted her. You came in this room wishing for a allyship, you are lucky if you leave this room with mutual displeasure instead of a conflict.

Alicent nods, smiling at you. She turns to her son, her locks briefly turning so they catch the light of the chandelier. ‘’Yes, thank you for bringing her here. Aegon needs your help in his chambers. I’m afraid it is quite urgent.’’ The queen speaks, sweet as a fox. Aegon is Aemond’s brother. You have yet not spoken a word to him. You know he is the elder brother, despite Aemond being taller. Despite that he was present during the duel and your introduction, he did appear to be there with his mind at all. He was a ghost.

The expression on your husband’s face pains you, as you can see he is in clear conflict. He is ordered by his mother, by his Queen to help his brother. But he is also bound to you, his wife and his lady.

As much as it scares you to be alone, to be alone without Aemond to protect you, as you have discovered pretty early that your word means nothing without him, you know you must confront Alicent alone. She will never be honest with her son near her. ‘’It is alright, husband. I am quite certain I have nothing to fear of her grace, the Queen.’’ Famous last words, perhaps.

Alicent returns your smile, very pleased with your words. Aemond grabs your face with both his hands, gently and caresses your cheeks. He kisses you soft and kindly, respectful of his mother watching you both. ‘’I shall return soon.’’ He promises you. You hope he is right.

Aemond finally takes his leave and Alicent gestures to the lavious armchair across the small bench she is sitting on, inviting you to come sit. And so you do.

The moment you sit down, she begins her questions. ‘’I understand your life has been anything but uneasy.’’ She pauses when she sees you pinching and clawing at your own skin, in lack of nails to pull. She tries to hide it but you can see she is very distraught. She sits up straight. Unexpectedly she comes a bit closer, yet keeps her distance. As if she does not know yet if she wants to come closer or stay away.

You hear her words, silent. Why does she care? Yet you nod, agreeing with her. Your life has been uneasy. Your mother died, your father tried to kill the king, your house was exiled and poor, you nearly starved and your drunk of a one-handed brother almost daily abused you. It has not been easy.

And yet, here you sit. Alive. Whatever that is worth. Alicent takes a deep, shaky breath. It catches your attention, and when you look into her eyes you see small tears shimmering, despite her efforts to hide it. ‘’I must know, for my own sake. How does Aemond treat you?’’ You think back of the few days you have known your husband. He has been kind, gallant, gentle. A dream come true, a breaker of your chains, a light of hope you cling to in utter darkness. But why does she care?

‘’He treats me well, your Grace.’’

‘’My ladies reported they found blood on Aemond’s bed linen. You can tell me,’’ she reaches out to grab your hands. ‘’Anything, Revaera. I am not angry with you.’’ You become uneasy at her treatment, perhaps even insecure and worried.

You would not feel comfortable with lying about how well Aemond treats you. So you tell her the truth, despite you feel umcomfertable sharing such personal details and matters. ‘’Aemond and I consummated the marriage. That was expected of us both, so we did that.’’ Your voice sounds a bit snappy, and you hope that the Queen reads your body lanagune that you do not want to talk about it at all.

But to think a Hightower would just give up, would be a mistake. ‘’How did that happen, Revaera? Did he force you?’’ She asks, folding her hands against her lap.

You shake your head.

‘’No. I went willingly. It was ..pleasant, in a way, your grace.’’

Alicent seems relieved, almost happy by those words. ‘’You are happy, then? With my son?’’

You feel heat creep up to your cheeks when you think about your husband, your prince Aemond. Happiness is an unfamiliar, strange, alien, concept to you. You have never been really happy. You don’t know what that feels like. But Aemond makes you feel safe, respected and as if you matter. That is enough, for now.

‘’I’d say so, your Grace.’’ You nod to confirm your words.

She sighs, clear relief written on her face. ‘’I am glad, you are happy and both have respect for each other. A marriage without mutual respect is a marriage destined to fail.’’ You know it is unwise to speak when Alicent speaks, as she is the Queen. So instead, you sit there, nodding, as if you lost your tongue.

‘’I am afraid we must discuss a unpleasant matter.’’ Alicent says, suddenly very sharp. You gulp.

‘’I heard you abused a servant.’’

‘’She told me I was unfit to marry Aemond. That I was a traitor and a …whore.’’ You mutter. ‘’I do regret hitting her. I do. Aemond told me not to worry about it, but the truth is: I do worry. I worry a lot.’’

The door behind you opens, and your husband walks inside. You are relieved to see him, standing up. He makes a respectful bow for his mother, and after he has done that rushes to your side, to kiss you. ‘’You both seem well.’’ He observes. ‘’I hope your conversation was a pleasant one.’’

He stands next to you, hands folded on his back as you take a seat in the chair. ‘’Is your brother alright?’’ You ask. He thinks long before you get an answer.

‘’My brother is…my brother. He is fine.’’

That is a relief. And somehow also a concern.

Alicent is silent. ‘’Aemond, is it true that my handmaids have spoken about Revaera’s virtue? Did they call her a …whore?’’

He nods. ‘’Yes. I meant to speak to you about that, Mother.’’ His tone is still gentle and kind. He continues. ‘’I know it was not your fault, Mother. You likely thought they were well, kind and good for Revaera. But they were not kind or good or well for her. Not at all.’’

He takes a deep breath.

‘’Revaera has become a Princess of House Targaryen. She is my lady and my wife, one day she will become the mother of my children, gods willing.’’ You can’t help but feel even more heat rush to your cheeks at that description. Desire and fear fight in your head. Your own mother died when birthing you, and now Aemond wants to do the same with you? But to remain childless, forever out of fear…It is a big conflict. One that won’t be solved easily.

He continues, making wild movements with his hands. ‘’So, I cannot, we, as House Targaryen cannot, let this insult stand. We cannot have our servants or who else spread rumours about my wife’s purity.’’ You don’t like the sound of the finality in his voice. The sound of a man who is hurt and shamed and must restore his honour.

‘’What do you suggest, Aemond?’’ Alicent asks, and you are prepared for anything but what Aemond chooses to say.

His licks his lips briefly, his good eye so focused on you that it makes you uneasy. He is good at staring. ‘’I want them all hanged.’’ He reveals, after a brief moment, shocking you.

‘’Aemond! You can’t mean that.’’ You say, instantly. ‘’Surely a mistake was made-’’

He ignores you, planting you back in your chair firmly but gentle. He cups your chin into his hands, touching and caressing it. ‘’But I do.’’ he insists. ‘’By questioning your virtue, they question if you were pure for me.’’

You become uncomfortable once more, as you were more than pure for him. He was your first. You turn your head away. Aemond lifts it, forcing you to look into his one eye as he speaks. ‘’By questioning your purity, they question any future children we might have. Your life could be in danger, as well as the life of any child we may have. That is why I am so angry.’’ He finishes, and you understand him a bit more, but still…

You already blame yourself for your mother’s passing. What will become of you when another soul is added to that list? ‘’Fine. But only the woman that said I was a whore. The other two shall live.’’ You declare, as if it is up to you. Aemond chuckles, kissing your cheeks.

‘’I understand you have a kind, gentle heart, my wife but this is not an insult. ‘Tis high-treason.’’ And Targaryens have only one answer to that. Two, actually. One word in high-valyrian and one in the common tongue. ‘’Dracarys’’ and ‘’Behead’’.

Yet you don’t give up. You can sway your husband. You must. ‘’At least spare the girl that talked with you. You know the one. The kind one, who regretted her actions. Surely, a good man must know when to forgive?’’

To that, Aemond is briefly speechless. He thinks himself a good man.

Alicent sighs.

‘’What shall we do with her, Revaera? After she was caught, no one wanted her as their maid anymore.’’ You can imagine that must be a dealbreaker for many of the guests at the red keep.

But not for you.

‘’Have her become mine.’’ You say.

—

The maid is known as Dyana. She is a kind, humble servant from flea bottom, and you need to tell her several times to stop apologizing to you. She is very thankful. You told her she should thank Aemond for changing his mind, but she is convinced you had a hand in it. You did of course. She is lacing up your gown for the evening supper.

You and the Targaryens will have dinner tonight. It is your first official dinner and it worries you. Will you live up to the expectations? Will you do well? ‘’You have nothing to worry for.’’ Dyana assures you. ‘’Just keep smiling.’’

That is an easy one for you.

You leave Aemond’s room at last, bumping into your husband. ‘’Aemond.’’ You greet him, politely. He grins mischievously, briefly looking around for witnesses. Once he has concluded there are none, he gently pushes you against the castle walls, kissing you fiercely and without shame. You moan against his lips, lost in pleasure as he gives you dozens of little kisses on your shoulders that all feel like little bites at the same time. They pierce through your skin and leave memories and marks. Your husband grins, madly in love with you. ‘’Yes, wife?’’ He greets you, teasingly. You stutter, your cheeks heated once more. ‘’I-’’ He silences you with a grin. ‘’I think we may skip supper this once. I am in the mood for a certain Marthyralys delicacy.’ He traces a finger down your throat, slowly pulling down your gown a bit, so he may have a look at your breasts. ‘’I wish to taste my wife, properly.’’ He whispers. ‘’You will like it. I promise.’’ He adds, when he sees your worry. ‘’I told you, I would never do anything you would not like, and I meant it.’’ You pant, softly, whimpering as he kisses you again. Aemond opens the door to your bedroom again. You are turned around, your back facing his front as he works on your corset. ‘’Aemond, we have promised we would be there for supper.’’ You tell him, as you hear him breath heavily with anticipation and lust. You wonder if itll feel as pleasant as the first time.

Aemond chuckles, amused. ‘’Have we? I seem to have come down with a terrible headache. I can’t possibly attend.’’ He says, blinking at you. You realize that is him winking. Your dress is finally pulled down, as are your small clothes. Aemond throws his eyepatch on the bed, pushing you next to it. Your hands intertwine as Aemond pulls his pants down, revealing his already erected member. Your head hits the front of a pillow as your husband parts your legs, feeling your wetness and slith. He grins, rubbing your shimmering, wet pearl as you whimper, at his mercy fully. ‘’You were going to attend supper like this? Soaked up, ready for my cock?’’ He whispers in your ear. ‘’Were you hoping I would bend you on the table between two plates of food and gave you a good through nice, warm, fucking?’’ His fingers increase in speed and you notice him smirking as his face becomes closer to your entrance. Eventually, he levels it and you watch as his tongue comes out, taking a good and proper lick of you. You gasp, twist, under his grip and finally you feel pleasure waves hit your body as Aemond feasts upon your body. He moans as well, giving you fuckings with his fingers and licking you at the same time.

You cry out. He grins. He is taunting you. You think. You can taunt him back. You look at his swollen length, wrapping your fingers around it, and start touching it. Aemond growls. You smile, innocently and stop touching him the moment his length nearly jumps, ready with delicious white precum you can’t wait to lick off. Aemond grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you to his face. He kisses you one last time, before you end up on your back. ‘’Do you want this?’’ He asks one final time. You nod. Aemond grabs your legs, leveling himself back inside of you. You sigh in bliss and pleasure as he begins to push. It as if he never truly left. Your hips join in this time, surprising the prince in a pleasant way. ‘’Yes, my wife. Just so.’’ He tells you, kissing your forehead. He picks up the speed, making the movements and what men call ‘’fucking’’ go faster and harder. Your needy cunt is being taunted by his lenght and skill and you would very much like to feel as good as the first time. ‘’Please.’’ You beg soft in his ear.

‘’Pleasuring you is my duty.’’ He whispers back in your ear, before giving you a firm hard trust. You cry out, bucking your hips back. Aemond answers by taking you harder and harder on your back, fucking you so hard that you have tears of pain and pleasure. He keeps going until your soft whimpers become cries and your cries become desperate needy screams. He gives you one final time to beg for it. ‘’Please.’’ You whisper. And then, he gives it his all with a final push, sending you down in a spiral of insanity and pleasure your body can’t really handle. Your body spasms and your mind feels wonderfully blank as all there is your husband, lining himself up at your entrance and emptying his load inside of you. You have come.

‘’Good girl.’’ Aemond whispers, knowing you appreciate that. ‘’So proud.’’ He adds, kissing your sweaty hair. He gently pats your hair. ‘’I think we’ll have some servants bring us some food. As delicious as your cunt was, I can’t survive on it alone.’’ You nod. He smiles, and tucks you in as you are used to. After that, you both have supper in your bed. But the dessert? You already had the dessert. A bit earlier.

Oh, they nasty-

Anyway, thanks for reading along with me!:) Soon we'll see people hang i guess? And everyone's favourite character Fyrand returns! And also, Revaera will meet Daemon, that is sure to be interesting.....Thanks for reading!:))

#tags #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #hotd x oc #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #Aemondsmut

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yikimiki · 1 year

Note

Dilf nanami + breeding

*tears shirt in half* YEAAHHHHH !!!!!

⚠️ warnings: vague age gap (nanami is in his 40’s and reader is in her 20’s), breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, smut, established relationship

—

You’re the kind of person who is, first and foremost, a little too pessimistic. Call it trauma, call it cautious realism, doesn’t matter — whenever something seems a little too good to be true, that’s what you call it, and you wait for it to crumble into pieces. So it makes sense that, when you first met Nanami — dressed in a sinful clear suit at a company meeting — you had quickly convinced yourself that your attraction was a pathetic daydream at best.

Then, it became mutual — and then, one date turned into two, and then three. The snowball that was your relationship with Nanami turned into an avalanche that led you, a little over a year later, moving in with him.

Now, Nanami mostly lives in a different frequency. Maybe it’s the age difference, you don’t know, but he has some mannerisms that you struggle to follow. He likes to be home on time, likes you to be as well. Doesn’t spend one second more than he needs in a task or at work. Takes pride in his hobbies and his organization, and adores that you help him keep the place tidy and the dishes clean. It’s a give and take that helps both of you, even if you have to fight against your own messy tendencies to make it work.

Before moving in together, a key difference came in the form of your sex life. You like it spontaneous, Nanami likes it pretty much scheduled (after his shower, just before going to sleep), and isn’t all that innovative when it comes to switching up. You want it almost every day, while he’s fine with once or twice a week. At first, you imagined it was because he was a little older and less hormonal, but, after sharing a bed, things gradually changed.

Nanami became… focused. Every time things start heating up between you two, there is a glint of something feral in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher, a strain to his voice when he cums inside you that makes you clench around him even harder.

It’s not until one fateful night that you find out what it is.

“You’re such a beauty,” he mumbles in between kisses, one hand on your cheek while he slowly rolls his hips. His cock is long and perfectly arched, made exactly to fit inside you. “You know what I think?” He asks and you hum. “I think you and I would make pretty cute kids.”

You chuckle, though the seriousness in his tone makes you know he’s not just saying it. “Yeah? Wanna have a baby with me, Nanami?” You ask, a little jokingly, but the groan that leaves him makes your stomach clench. “Wanna give me a baby?”

“Fuck, I want it so bad.” His pace quickens now, and his eyes close in sheer bliss. You never saw him like this, so focused, yet so… primal. Nanami is fucking you so deeply that you can barely think straight. “I wanna fuck you… I wanna… I wanna breed you, baby. Wanna give you a baby. Our pretty baby.”

His words are a slurred mess and you follow it along, yes flickering shut as his nails dig into the flesh of your ass. The bed is creaking under his movements, but you don’t dare to ask him to stop. “Cum inside me, baby,” you tell him, breathless, “cum in me, please, breed me—“

Nanami damn near faints when he spills himself inside you, waves upon waves of cum filling your cunt until he’s milking his cock dry, wincing from overstimulation. He wants to give you every ounce of his cum, make sure you’re not wasting one single drop.

“You know,” you say after it’s all done, “if you really want it, I can stop taking my pills.”

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu smut #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen x you #nanami x you #nanami x reader #Nanami smut

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hwallazia · 2 months

Text

WE KNOW

pairing: park seonghwa x fem! reader

word count: 1,3k

tags: mafia!au, angst? (if you squint), mob boss!seonghwa, undercover agent!reader, mentions of death (reader’s boyfriend), seonghwa threatens reader at the end (not this being necessarily a death threat).

synopsis: your boyfriend’s murder hurt you for so long. So you were going to do the impossible to revenge his death. One cold night, you meet the head of the responsables of your boyfriend’s death. You thought it would be a piece of cake but he was so much smarter that you. | PART TWO

| a/n: of course this is having a part 2 (I’ll eventually post it, I swear) which will contain smut. This is literally word vomit of my thoughts of mob boss! Seonghwa so I’m so sorry for the shortness of this!

You knew it, you knew that what you were doing was wrong, but your body tends to react faster than your own brain.

With your legs shaking and a lump forming in your throat, you stood in front of the majestic door of the 19-story building, knowing everything you were risking by even stepping on the ceramic floor of the hotel’s luxurious floor; your life and on the other hand your work, your boss had been more than clear that case 3498: “Park Seonghwa” would be handled by special forces and more trained and experienced strategists.

You still couldn’t fully understand why you were in front of the gates of hell of your own free will, but you simply couldn’t miss the opportunity to kill the heir of the ‘Wonderland’ cartel, his men being responsible for the death of your boyfriend, which happened a long time ago. More less two years.

When your squad leader announced that there was a possibility of finally destroying this cartel because of its leader’s murder, your eyes shone; you found hope along the way, after having gone through one full of desolation and tragedy.

That’s why you couldn’t just sit back and pretend that the case had never been mentioned. You decided to take matters into your own hands even when your boss explicitly told you to step aside.

And with a deep sigh, you walked into the hotel, the smell of wood and leather sofas filling your nostrils.

You analyzed the environment, noticing certain people casting their gaze on you. Without giving them much importance, you tried to locate your target.

You walked around the place, meeting many familiar faces and wondering where you knew them from; soon the answer came to your mind, they were people you saw, locked in your office —more like a pretty, decorated prison— in criminal records files. Some of them with quite compromising and illicit antecedents. But this wasn’t the time to think about those people.

Of all the people who were in the building, you had to locate one, which, by the way, you weren’t finding anywhere.

You headed to the elevator and pressed the button that had a downward arrow drawn on it. You waited patiently for the ‘ding’ to announce the arrival of the mechanism, and got on the elevator. Once on the floor you wanted to be, you walked down that hallway full of 2-4 person dining tables, until you finally found your target.

The only way you could attract him into your net was by seducing him, so you could make time to call the special forces. No matter how many lectures your boss gave you later, you could finally avenge the death of your beloved boyfriend.

You approached the mysterious man, your maroon dress shedding some of its fabric due to the slit in your right thigh, falling delicately to the floor. It hugged your anatomy, highlighting your exotic curves. Due to the non-accidental rip in your dress, your shiny white heels were on display. You felt beautiful, and you hoped that Mr. Park Seonghwa would fall for your charms as well.

Taking your dress by the sides, being careful not to step on it, you sat down without saying a word at the same table as the enemy. He somehow sensed a foreign presence, so he spoke.

“I wasn’t expecting a companion tonight.” His voice made a delicious shiver run down your spine, straightening your back.

“No handsome man should spend the night alone.” Your feminine and captivating voice made him finally look up and fix his dark, solemn eyes on yours.

“Is that so? Since when?” He raised an eyebrow mischievously.

“Since today, darling.”

A small laugh escaped his lips as he lowered his head to hide the curve that had formed on his lips.

“Okay, doll. I’ll let us share this dinner together,” He straightened up, focusing all his attention on you, “Why, of all the people gathered here, did you decide to sit at my table?”

“Didn’t I say it already? I think you’re cute, so I decided to keep you company.”

“With what purpose?” He leaned over the table, resting his elbows on his sides.

Very good question, with what purpose had you taken the decision, and the courage, to sit at the same table as the devil? You couldn’t remember anything, it seemed like your mind went blank every time the man fixed his dark irises on you, and the fact that he was doing it right now wasn’t helping matters.

“Don’t tell me you’re here to arrest me…” Your blood suddenly ran cold. Your mind began to spin in search of a sensible answer. Your neurons were so busy thinking meticulously about the words you were going to say that you forgot how ridiculous and desperate you’d look in the process.

“No! Not at all… Nonono,” You let out the longest existing “ehhh” in the middle of your explanation. “My goal with you tonight is different and… personal.”

“Mhm... personal,” The word slid off his tongue dangerously. “Well, I’m dying to know what you’re planning on doing with me tonight.” A curved smile decorated his lips, weakening your legs.

You urgently wanted to change the direction of the conversation, and as if you had manifested it, the food arrived at your table. The waiter placed two plates of medium-rare steak in front of you as an appetizer and a bottle of champagne that he masterfully opened. The clear liquid from the bottle slid smoothly down your glass, bubbles adorning the top of it.

Food flooded your table as you kept a conversation with Seonghwa. It was strange but intriguing. Neither of you gave more information than necessary, both always staying on the edge. You didn’t know when, why, or how but you were both laughing. When you stopped, the gangster let out a sigh and then spoke to you.

“You’re very beautiful. Y’know?” Your cheeks turned a tender pink as you felt them burn. However, you decided to test him, looking at him lustfully, clearly with other intentions. Unfortunately, Seonghwa read you like an open book and rapidly recognized the game you were playing.

“Thanks, handsome. You’re very good-looking as we-”

“Too bad you’re an agent.”

What?

How was it possible? You didn’t give too much information, and you were cautious when speaking. So how the hell does he know you’re an agent? You stayed still in your seat, unable to formulate any excuses.

“Oh, darling. I’m the heir of the greatest mafia in Asia. Didn’t that tell you and your pretty little head something?”

Words simply chose not to slip out of your mouth. So you remained silent, looking down as if you were a just scolded six-year-old girl.

At that point, you didn’t know if you were scared or what, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. It was as if a deafening voice was ringing inside your head repeating ‘don’t. you. dare.’

“I’d love to have you around, I really mean it. You’re lovely. Maybe your head hanging on my coat rack can keep me company.” Seonghwa got up from his seat, going around the table to be face-to-face with you.

“Please, let’s talk rationally.” You naively tried to keep your voice from shaking, but it was impossible. You were terrified of what this man could do to you.

“Follow me, y/n.”

Fuck.

Now there was no way to deny the undeniable. He knew your name, probably your last name, your address, your blood type, and the name of your dog, why not?

Now you were really against a rock and a hard place.

He took your hand carelessly and practically dragged you to one of the countless hotel rooms, away from the crowd. He closed the door behind him and threw you on the bed brusquely.

“W-what are you gonna do to me?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill you, I’m not as ruthless as my father.” You let out a sigh when you heard his words.

“But I am gon’ make you regret trying to arrest me, darling,” He walked towards you and leaned down so he could be face-to-face with you. His lips brushing dangerously against yours. You could see how a flame decorated his dark irises, “So much that you’re gonna wish you never had met me.”

| masterlist

#park seonghwa #park seonghwa ateez #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa drabble #seonghwa imagines #ateez #ateez x reader #seonghwa scenarios #mob boss seonghwa #ateez x female reader #seonghwa x female reader

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lovelettersforthedamned · 3 months

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/@iamsmexi/video/7253633823198498090

trying to convince frat!peter that you arent drunk when you very much are -🎀

Miss. Mind Reader

--genre: sfw, fluff!!!!

--pairing: frat!peter parker x f!reader

--word count: 0.8k

--warnings: mentions of alcohol, reader is drunk, mention of sexual activities (does not happen), reader is silly and drunk and wants to prove peter wrong (but fails).

oh frat!peter, how i've missed you...

--gif credits: @juliaroleplays

Your head was swirling, but not in the way that makes you want to throw up, not yet at least. The bass of the music bumps throughout your body, making you sway messily to the beat. With your drink in his hand, Peter carries a casual conversation with a few of his brothers. He’s not really listening, he nods carelessly as he pretends to listen. His real focus is on you. He knows that you’re able to take care of yourself in this state, that’s not what he’s thinking about. Peter’s mesmerized by the sight of you, dancing, carefree, and definitely drunk.

It’s the moment that you trip over your own feet when he decides to excuse himself from the group. A couple of ‘excuse me’s and some weaving around the crowd later, he finally makes his way right behind you. You are too distracted to notice Peter’s presence until you feel a hand slide around your waist, making you jump. “Hey! Why is your–,” your anger fizzles out as soon as you see whose hand is around you.

Peter lowers his head to your ear, speaking loud enough to make sure you heard him, “You ready to head out, bug?”

“Yeah, just give me a second,” you yell back, unaware of your volume, “I wanna get one more drink before we leave!”

“Yeah, no. You’re already plastered, babe. One more drink and you’re going to be face down on the front lawn in an hour, I guarantee it.”

Peter doesn’t even give you time to respond before he holds your hand and guides you out of the crowded room. He almost makes it out of the house before another one of his brothers calls out from the stairs, “Hey Pete! You coming back later?”

He pulls you into his side, keeping you stable as you’ve begun to rock back and forth, “I need to make sure she’s alright, so I’m going to stay the night. I’ll see you at class tomorrow.” Peter opens the door with a thumbs up from his brother on the stairs he leads you outside.

The cool night air hits you and causes a chill to run up your arms, making you nuzzle into Peter’s side. You’re still walking funny, but you’re trying to hide it to the best of your capabilities. You think you’re doing a good job, but as Peter looks down at you, he can’t help but laugh. “Are you feeling alright, bug?”

You clear your throat and fix your posture before you respond, “I’m fine Peter. Why do you ask?” You’ve stopped leaning into him, your posture is stuck straight as you toddle towards your apartment. “I’m not drunk if that’s what you’re asking,” your voice is almost robotic as you talk. If Peter wasn’t sure that you were drunk already, that last sentence really tied it all together.

You two slowly but surely make your way up the stairs of your building, Peter mostly behind you with a hand on your back to ensure you don’t fall backward. As soon as you reach your door, Peter sticks his hand in his pocket to grab your keys. Since the beginning of your relationship, Peter has always held your stuff for you, especially when you’re planning on drinking.

As Peter was about to put the key into the lock, you smack them out of his hand, “If I was drunk, would I be able to do that?”

Peter, standing there completely dumbfounded at what you just did, responds, “Do what?”

You’re in a fighting position, your hands curled into fists as you slur your words, “I was able to sense what your next move was. My mind knows exactly what is going to happen, baby. I’m psychic!”

“Mhm, okay miss. mind reader,” he bends down to pick up the keys off of the floor, “what’s going to happen when we walk through the door?”

You think for a second as Peter twists the key, waiting for your response to fully open the door. He looks at you with a smirk, awaiting your answer. You smirk as you finally find it, wrapping your arms around his torso, “So should I undress right now, or should you?”

“Yeah okay,” he kisses the crown of your head as he pushes open the door, “I was planning on going straight to bed, bug, but you’ll get me next time.”

And just like that, his response flies over your head as you’re smushed against his hold, his touch suddenly becoming extremely comfortable. As you stumble into your apartment, Peter knows that you’ve officially reached the point of intoxication to where you’re extremely sleepy.

The rest of the night is slow. You’re already tucked in bed with a pair of pajama pants and one of Peter’s shirts when he starts taking off your makeup, a glass of water, and Advil on the dresser next to you when you’re completely out. It’s nearly two in the morning when Peter slips into bed beside you. He’s not going to class tomorrow.

--author's note: FRAT!PETER IS SO BACK!!!! also, writing him comes so easy and i love him so much. another hit from 🎀 anon!!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support me and your fav writers! my asks/inbox is open for requests, or if you just wanna chat!! ok, ily bye<33333

#fluff #marvel #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #frat!peter parker #frat!peter #frat!peter parker x f!reader #tasm!peter parker #college au #spiderman #peter parker

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nexysworld · 10 months

Text

Trying Again

Read on AO3 🖤 Make a Request 🖤 Masterlist

A Ko-fi commission for the beautiful @elfven-blog. It was my first time writing Kratos!

Summary: Set post Ragnarok - After seeing you treat an ailing Atreus, Kratos realizes that he wants to try being a father again.

Pairing: Kratos x FemWife!Reader

Tags: NSFW, Smut, P in V sex, overstimulation, baby making, mentions of blood, no use of Y/N, MDNI.

The second the sun hit mid-sky you knew something was off, your husband was nothing if not routine and even on the odd occasion something did happen to cause Kratos to be late, it was never for long.

Nervousness bubbled in the pit of your stomach as you pondered where they could be and what had happened. Since the ending of Ragnarok peaceful times had washed over the land, outside of the small rebellions initiated by Odin’s lingering supporters – those didn’t have you much concerned though, small fries compared to those that fell to Kratos in memories past. Even still, something in your gut was gnawing at you, screaming something was wrong. Trying to avoid the thought, you busied yourself with tasks around the cabin. Cleaning, prepping meat, cooking, sharpening weapons, anything you could to keep your mind off of things. ‘Kratos is strong. You’re over thinking things.’ You repeated inwardly.

Soon night had fallen, and still no sign of Kratos, not able to take it anymore, you began to dress, hooking a sword into your belt. “Aye Lass, what’re you doing? Ye can’t be thinkin’ about going after him, you’re no fighter.” Mimir piped up from his spot on the table side. “I know but what if something is wrong? Kratos is no healer, he’s never out like this Mimir. I can’t just stay here and do nothing.” “You know Kratos wouldn’t approve of this, he would want you to wait.” “But he wouldn’t wait. He wouldn’t hesitate if he thought something was wrong.”

“I know yer worrying, but I think it would be best if –”

The argument was cut short by a loud pounding on the door to the cabin, it was so hard the walls around you began shaking, dust pouring down from the ceiling. For a brief moment you thought the whole cabin might come down – you froze in place not sure if you should investigate or not. Not a moment of silence later before the pouding began again, this time you opted to step forward cracking the door open. A huge man you didn’t recognize stood before you, blood caked to his head and face. “Are you the wife of Kratos?”

You nodded nervously. You could sense there was no malice in his voice, only concern, but it wasn’t enough to abate your growing fears. “Did something happen to him?” The man did not answer your question, reaching forward in a swift movement to wrap an arm around your back pulling you outside with him. “We must go,” was all he said before the runic tattoos along his arms began to glow with an iridescent blue. The world around you faded to black and it felt like falling through a waterfall made of wind. It only lasted for a few moments before your feet found purchase, light re-entering your eyes causing blurry vision. “What the hell?” You asked, rubbing at them until the ache disappeared and your vision was cleared again. Taking in your surroundings you didn’t recognize the location at all, it didn’t feel like Midgard or any of the other realms you’d had the experiences of visiting. The smell was too fresh and the symbols carved along the stony mountain pathways were not Nordic. “Come, wife of Kratos.” The man said, grabbing you by the arm and walking, not waiting for you to respond. “Where are we?” You asked, attempting to tug your arm back, but not succeeding. “It matters not.” Was the only flat response you received. “Where is my husband?” You demanded this time. “I am taking you to him.” “Is he ok?” “You will see for yourself.” Frustration at the man’s short responses had your inner temper threatening to boil over, but you kept yourself inline not knowing what was going on. It would have been almost ironic that he spoke like Kratos if it weren’t for how annoying it was coming from someone other than your husband. The walk felt like it lasted eternity as the two of you made your way down the stony pathway, desperately hoping to find your husband in one piece.

Your prayers were answered when you saw him there hunched over someone, a closer look and you realized it was Atreus. “By the gods!” You shouted running the rest of the distance over to them and kneeling down over your step son. “What happened to him? Are you ok?” The boy – now nearly a man – was unconscious, breathing rapidly. “I am fine, but Atreus has been injured. I do not know by what means. He returned to me from his search for the giants, asking for assistance. We made it out here and then he collapsed.”

You gave him a confused look. “That doesn’t sound right. You’ve been gone all day and well into the evening, surely you must’ve been doing something else in all that time.” “Time passes at different speeds in different realms.” Kratos reminded you. “Oh….right.” You replied, as you worked Atreus’ armor off of his body to better assess the situation. It was clear whatever was ailing him was definitely magical in nature but there was no immediate injury or runes that you could see. Bringing your hand to your chin in thought, you wracked your brain further. “Can you help him?” Kratos’ voice interrupted your thoughts.

“I think so, I just have to figure out the magic behind it.” Closing your eyes you took a deep breath in before pressing your fingers to the runes on your own arm, causing them to light up. “Opinbera!” You commanded, magic fluttering out from your fingertips encasing the boy, it sparked for a few moments before it dissipated entirely. “Shit!” “What is it?” Kratos asked, you knew him well enough to understand the hint of worry in his voice. “The caster of whatever magic this is was smart enough to counter against revealing magic.”

“Maybe Freya can help.” “Perhaps, but I don’t think we’d get there in time at this rate, going through any kind of portal magic may make things worse …. let me think a moment longer. I’m sure I can figure it out.” Tapping your fingers against the ground you tried again, flipping through the magic knowledge in your head. Healing was your specialty, you knew you could do it.

A few more moments passed and it finally hit you, you have seen Johtun magic like this before. Immediately, you activated the runes on your arm again. “Elskhuga eitur!” The magic encased Atreus and pulsed different colors, blue, purple, red, until finally black before dissipating into a puff of smoke.

The teen immediately sat up and coughed into his hand, lavender flower petals coming up with the spittle. “I was right.” You said with a soft smile rubbing his back. “Tell me, what woman did you spurn so badly that she did this to you?” “I….oh well…” Atreus bowed his head sheepishly as he caught his breath, a pink flush coming to his cheeks. “What is going on?” Kratos asked, annoyed.

“The magic used on him is called ‘Lover’s Poison’, while anyone can use it, it was Jotuhn magically typically used when a man was….let's say unfaithful.” You let out a soft giggle at the thought. Kratos didn’t find it nearly as amusing. “Atreus, what is the meaning of this? You said you needed assistance with locating a giant.” “B-because I did.” He let out a groan flopping back onto the ground rubbing his temples. “Just…give me a second to explain.” “It has already been a second.” “Kratos, my love, give him a moment to rest, alright?” You encourage your husband, moving to sit next to him, rubbing loving circles into his back. While he didn’t reply, you could feel the muscles under your fingers relax a little, a good start. Atreus sat back up, and adjusted to sit cross cross in front of you and his father. He rubbed the back of his head and let out an awkward laugh, his cheeks still covered in an embarrassed flush. “So…..Angroboda was kind of upset with me, but I didn’t know she did that. I really did need help finding the giant since she left, I just didn’t expect to pass out.” You pondered his words before replying. “That’s a pretty big reaction to just being upset, Atreus. What exactly did you do?” “We got into a fight and I uh…I thought we were broken up. On my last trip back to Midgard, I saw Thrud and we may have….look this is kind of awkward to talk about.” “I did not know you were…romantically involved with either of them.” Kratos said flatly. You on the other hand laughed again. “Did she ever say you two were broken up?” “Well no….not exactly….” “Oh my dear boy. Well, I guess that would do it. Hel hath no fury like a woman scorned.” You sighed and put your hand on his shoulder. “Listen, lets get back home so you can rest and eat a good meal. We can talk more about your love life more then, alright?” You leaned in to whisper. “Without your father, I promise.” Kratos obviously heard the comment and let out a groan, you opted to ignore it to carry on. “Now that that's settled….who is the big guy who brought me here? He was also covered in blood.” “Oh that's Brot.” Atreus stated. “He’s a giant I found during my journey. He’s not hurt, just….poor hygiene after hunting.” “I see…” You replied not questioning it further. A chortle left the large man who’d been leaning against a rock the whole time. “Well Brot, you’re more than welcome to join us as well if you’d like.” “No thanks, family dinners are not my style.” He replied with a shrug. Atreus stood up, dusting himself off a bit. “Here, I can take us back home. Brot taught me that portal spell.” “Atreus, you shouldn’t push yourself.” You warned, but he had already activated it, putting a hand on each of your shoulders. The free falling feeling was back before you were in the snow outside of the cabin.

Two transportations in one day had you wobbling a bit, Kratos helped you from the ground with ease so you could stand right, using him for support. “Are you alright?” “Yes, I’ll be alright.” To prove your point you let go of his arm and made your way inside by yourself, Kratos and your step son following behind. “By the Gods, you’re all finally back!” Mimir said, smiling. “I was gettin’ worried once the man up and took our Lassy too. And well if it isn’t Atreus, or I suppose Loki now, too!” “Hey Mimir, glad to be back.” Atreus said, propping a chair in front of the head.

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

Dinner passed uneventfully, everyone catching up. Atreus chose to spend the night out with the wolves in lieu of the cabin along with Mimir, leaving you and Kratos alone. You couldn’t explain it but you could almost hear Kratos thinking despite his silence. You rolled over to face him, bringing a hand up to his cheek, feeling the rough skin and wiry hair. “My love, I know you’re not sleeping. Tell me what’s on your mind.” His eyes opened, and he returned the gesture bringing his own large calloused hand to your face. “You.” He answered plainly. “Me? But I am right here, why would you need to think about me instead of resting?” The two of you stayed like that for a while, neither moving. Kratos did not immediately answer your question. It wasn’t until the fire had finally died out, and moonlight was the only thing illuminating your face did he finally explain further. “You are very good with Atreus. Today before he fell ill, he said to me he thinks of you as a mother.”

“Oh, well I’m very glad to hear it. I love him as if he were my own.”

There was no verbal reply but you could vaguely see Kratos nod in the dull light. “I fear that I have not properly taken you into consideration.” “What does that mean?” “This cabin has many reminders of Faye, carved into the very wood, the trees around us. Does that…bother you? Freya had mentioned that for many women it may spark ill feelings.” “No. Of course not. Faye is no longer with us, but she was important to you, and without her I wouldn’t have Atreus or this version of my husband – I thank her for that.” There was a soft grunt in response. “Is that all that was on your mind?” You questioned. “No.” He answered honestly. “Then, what else is on your mind?” “I have been pondering it for a while. The thought of becoming a father again.” “Oh.” The words stunned you, Kratos had always maintained that he did not want more children now that Atreus was nearly fully grown. “What made you reconsider?” “You.” Kratos adjusted himself so he could roll towards you more, leaning in just enough to see the light hit his face, the sincerity in his eyes. “Every time I see you with Atreus it reminds me of what a family could be like. It reminds me of my time back in Greece, but the good moments with Calliope and her mother. I wish for that again, now that there may finally be peace.” “Kratos, to be clear, are you saying you want to have a child with me?” “Yes.”

You responded by leaning forward to press your lips to his. “Ok.” You said softly against them. “Put a baby in me then.” You had meant the words to be sweet and agreeable but, feeling his cock pressed against your thigh as it jumped showed you it had a far more powerful effect on him.

He returned your kiss fervently, wiry hair rough against your skin, as his large hands roamed down your body before sliding their way up your shirt to palm at your breasts. Moaning into his mouth you squirmed a little scooting closer into his touch. For being such a gruff and battle-worn god, he was quite tender and attentive in bed – though silent. He moved his kisses down your jaw and to your neck before tearing the night shirt off of you like it was merely paper. The reminder of his strength caused more heat to pool into your core, thighs pressed together in an attempt to ease some of the building tension. He pulled away, beginning to remove the remnants of his own leather armor and under garments. Your hand flicked, lighting some candles around the room with your magic. He raised an eyebrow at you. “I want to watch.” You said softly, raking your eyes along his muscled and scarred body. He replied by continuing his movements, removing the rest of his own garments, sending them to the floor with a dull clattering noise. When his hands came back to you, he spread your thighs apart with ease, tearing your small clothes off as well, leaving you bare before him. He placed a hand on your stomach where your womb was, giving it a soft rub. “I did not receive the chance to fully participate in the experience with my last two wives. I shall not allow the experience this time to go to waste.” He moved his hand down from your stomach, slipping a finger between your soft and wet fold before running it up and down your slit, taking an extra moment to circle your clit every time he reached it. A moan left your mouth and your back arched slightly as one of his fingers found their way into your wet hole, his thumb continuing to work your pearl of sensitive nerves. “K-Kratos…” His name left your mouth like a chant as heat and slick built further and further between your legs.

Another finger was added as he worked them apart to ease your hole open to be ready for his much larger cock. Your eyes were half lidded with pleasure already, you dared your eyes to travel downward to see his now fully hardened erection against the abs on his stomach. The memory of being stretched out on it, coupled with his never relenting fingers finally pushed you over the edge. Your legs trembled as his name flew from your mouth like a prayer, wetness soaking the bed beneath you.

“Do you think you are ready?” He asked, giving his cock a few pumps with his hand, smearing the growing precum along himself while he gives you a moment to recover and answer. “Mhm.” You said with a small nod, pulling your legs apart a little further as an invitation for him.

He leaned forward, using his hand to guide the fat swollen tip to your entrance. “W-wait.” You stopped him for a moment. “Sorry, I almost forgot.” You brought your hand to the rune on your stomach, tapping it before it glowed and disappeared. “Can’t put a baby in me with a dispel charm on my womb.”

He grunted in response, and once you laid back he eased himself into you at an agonizingly slow pace. No matter how many times you’ve laid with him before, each time felt like the first with the stinging stretch of the God’s cock opening you up inch by inch, until he could not go any farther. Balls deep, he waited again a nearly silent grunt leaving him as your walls fluttered around him. Your tightness sometimes had him fighting off the Ghost of Sparta in the back of his mind, remembering all the whore-plundering he had done when he was younger. You certainly didn’t help the urges he had to fuck into you like a wild beast – but luckily for you this Kratos loved his wife and wanted to make sure she felt good as well. When you brought your hands up to his shoulder, the quiet signal that it was okay to move, he did so slowly at first with shallow thrusts before building up speed. “F-fuck…” You mumbled out, feeling each time the weeping head would kiss your cervix. Something about knowing this was raw, knowing he was actively trying to fuck a baby into you had you more heated than expected. The tension was already building back up again at a fast rate, whining and moaning with each piston of his hips. The way his pelvis and thick hair would rub against your clit with each thrust, coupled with the way he rubbed all the right spots inside of you had you going wild, clawing at his back, whimpering his name. You were met with loud grunts above you, and you swore if you listened close enough what could almost amount to a stifled moan. So close to finishing again, you were desperate for pleasure, bucking back up into his thrusts, before he suddenly stopped all movement. “Roll over.” It was a command, not a question. He didn’t even give you the opportunity before he was grabbing you and flipping you onto your stomach before lifting your waist up, giving him better access to your hole. He thrust in to the hilt in one go, mounting you much deeper than before, and earning a pleasured scream from you before it died out into whimpers. Your head was fuzzy and hazy with this new angle, nothing but pleasure coursing through your body. He wrapped one arm around you so he could rub at your clit again while he did even thrusts into your hole. The next orgasm crashed down on you causing your legs to shake. He stopped thrust but left his cock buried inside of you as he continued rubbing your now overly sensitive bud, riling up a third overstimulated orgasm. “I can’t…I can’t…” You whined squirming in his grasp. “You can. You will.” He said continuing until he felt your walls clamp around him again. Incoherent words sputtered out of your mouth until you were simply drooling on the furs beneath you, brain wiped and body exhausted. “Good girl.” He said, patting your lower back softly, before renewing his grip on your hips. Now that he had you how he wanted you, he returned to his own pleasure, bucking into you at a much rougher pace, making sure each thrust ended deep inside of you. He flattened his hand on your stomach to intensify the feeling of his bulge as he continued in this new position. It wasn’t long before he was spilling his seed inside of you, of course making sure it was right at the entrance of your womb.

He adjusted you both so his cock remained inside of you as you lay together, not wanting to allow a single drop of his essence to spill from you. His cock was not softened yet and he would have been more than ready for round two, but he knew you well enough – the warm feeling of being fucked out, filled, and exhausted had you more than ready for sleep.

As the two of you lay there, he rubbed your back, shoulders, and arms with his free hand until he was sure you were nearly unconscious. Once asleep, or at least on the cusp of it, he pulled you close against himself, running his hand down to your stomach again, rubbing soft circles there to self sooth. He pictured what you would look like in a few months swollen with his child. He wondered if it would be another girl and if she would remind him of Calliope, or perhaps another boy like Atreus. He thought of what he would do differently this time around, what he would do the same. All his thoughts began to meld together until the God himself was finally asleep too, holding you close to him. He would never express it out loud, but Kratos was actually feeling excited.

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