Hi Rose! Ive Just Found Your Profile And Saw Youre Accepting Requests So Here You Go:

Hi Rose! I’ve just found your profile and saw you’re accepting requests so here you go:

Poly!wolfstar or poly!marauders where reader is completely in love with them but thinks they don’t like her back. When they confess their love for her she doesn’t believe because she thinks that what they have is already perfect and she doesn’t have a place in it. It takes them a lot of effort to make her believe it. Lots of angst with happy ending

really? || poly!wolfstar x fem!reader | 1.5k words

a/n: hi so this is very cliche and possibly very bad bc i’m very out of practice so i hope you appreciate that and i hope that this is what you wanted. i promise my writing will get better once i get back into the swing of things! also, thank you very much for requesting and i’m so sorry i took so long, something came up but that’s slowing down now so i’m back to it! also i’m really sorry it’s not very angsty but i just wasn’t in that frame of mind i’m so so so so sorry :(

content: as gn as possible but some fem hints in there sorry (im just too used to it :((), minimal use of y/n and pronouns, also bridgerton reference guys😭

“S’wrong, darling?” James queried at your spaced out expression during breakfast in the Great Hall. 

You shrug, “Dunno, James.” The bespectacled boy furrowed his brows but was soon distracted by something Peter was showing him on his other side. You did, in fact, know what was wrong. The two boys sitting opposite you were the bane of your existence this morning. They were also the object of your desires.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Best friends of 6, coming up to 7 years and boyfriends of 3 months. The most painful, yearning, pining 3 months of your life. The relationship between you, Sirius and Remus had always been ambiguous between the lines of platonic and romantic, but one fateful morning Sirius and Remus walked towards you in the corridor, holding hands and exuding a sickeningly sweet air of love.

“Earth to Y/n/n… you okay, sweetness?” Dark grey eyes locked with yours, pairing with the saccharine nickname you couldn’t help but smile dreamily at him. 

“Mhm,” you mumbled, “M’fine, Siri.”

“Good. Couldn’t have you spaced out like this all day,” he furrowed his dark eyebrows, “would never get through Potions if I didn’t have my lovely partner to talk to.” He finished with a wink that almost had you melting into a puddle on the stone floor. Peter and James shared a look at your, somewhat pathetic, lovesickness. 

“Ready to go then? Lessons start in 5 minutes.” Remus interrupted the charged gazing between you and Sirius.

“Of course you’d be the one to make us prudishly early, Moons.” Sirius stood up alongside Remus, clapping him on the back harshly as they started to walk off, followed closely by you, James and Peter.

“5 minutes is not prudishly early, Pads…”

———

“Ms Y/L/N, daydreaming again?” Slughorn’s voice broke you out of your stare. Your task today was to brew a successful amortentia potion. Sirius, eager as ever to discover the smell of what he loves, bounded up to the storage cupboard to collect all your ingredients. Also, something about ‘What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady lift a finger under my watch?’

“Sorry, professor. Sirius is getting all the equipment so I just zoned out for a moment. Won’t happen again.” You visibly straightened up and put on your best apologetic voice, because you really weren’t sorry at all. You had been ogling Sirius. His shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of smooth, pale skin, his shirt tightening slightly at his arms where his lean muscles were bulging slightly with the strain of stretching. He was visibly far less built-up than someone such as James who was nothing short of stocky, but being a beater still took lots of arm power.

As Professor Slughorn migrated back to his desk, Sirius came back over to your workbench, albeit, more carefully than he left it, as he was now carrying an abundance of supplies ready to begin brewing.

“Siri, y’know I could’ve helped you?” 

“Don’t sweat it, love.” He brushed it off.  

You began brewing the potion and it was going smoothly. (As much as Sirius tried his hardest to be a nuisance in class, he’d never purposefully sabotage you)

A pop from across the classroom made you a jump a little and averted your’s and Sirius’ attentions to James and Remus on the other side of the room. Remus was scoffing and rolling his eyes as James’ face was covered in soot, hair standing up on end. 

“Poor Moony.” You tutted, focusing back on your own potion. Originally, Remus had been partners with Lily, no complaints, perfect work, until Slughorn decided that James and Peter being a pairing was far too chaotic and forced Remus and Lily to re-partner, to quell the chaos caused by James and Peter’s pairing.

“He’ll be alright.” Sirius chuckled as you sprinkled the final ingredient into the brew.

You watched as the potion turned a pinkish colour and turned to Sirius with a pleased smile, “It worked!” He held his hand up for a high five that you quickly returned. 

“Ready to take a whiff, Black? Y/L/N?” Slughorn said as he approached your workbench. You both nodded and Sirius pushed you forward. The entire class had gone quiet, attention on your bench. You took a deep breath in over the cauldron.

First, cigarettes, and a deep, musky aftershave that was awfully familiar.

After a few moments it morphed into the scent of a crackling fireplace, new books and… chocolate.

“So? What do you smell?” Slughorn queried.

You broke out of your trance, glancing around the classroom at all of the pairs of eyes staring at you, awaiting an answer, specifically Sirius and Remus. The two people you had definitely just smelled, “Uh, um- I smelled,” You didn’t know whether to lie or not, “um, flowers?”

James snorted a laugh from across the room, quickly shutting up after a harsh elbow to the ribs from Remus.

“Care to elaborate?” Slughorn raised a questioning eyebrow. You shook your head vehemently and stepped back towards Sirius’ chest, who hurriedly took your place, eager to smell the potion.

“Books… chocolate,” Sirius paused to wink at Remus who glared at him, embarrassed, “…and, vanilla?”

Your eyes widened at that and you sucked in a very audible sharp breath, reminded of the vanilla perfume that you apply rather generously every morning. Sirius locked eyes with Remus across the room, sharing a look that meant We’ll talk later.

Slughorn clapped his hands to diffuse the awkward tension and called on Barty Crouch Jr’s workbench.

———

“Marls, I can’t just tell them I like them. I don’t wanna impose on what they already have together…” You huffed, pulling your knees up to your chest. Marlene wandered over from her bed and sat down next to you.

“Babe, I love you, but you are so oblivious.” She lamented.

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“She really has no idea does she…?” Lily sighed from her bed.

“Those two boys are hopelessly in love with you, Y/N. And if you can’t see that then you are oblivious. Sirius’ amortentia smelled like you and Remus. The boy he’s already in a relationship with.”

“That could’ve been anyone’s vanilla perfume.” You shrugged, certain that the boys couldn’t want you in any way.

Lily rolled her eyes, “Tell them, Y/N.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth anxiously but nodded in agreement, “Wish me luck, girls.”

You trudged down the stairs to the common room, head low and anxiety swarming your brain.

“What’re you doing down here so late, darling?” 

You jumped at the voice, not expecting anyone to be occupying the common room at such a late hour. You looked up to find just the two boys you were looking for… Sirius splayed dramatically (somehow) in an armchair and Remus curled up into the corner of a couch.

“Oh, hi guys…”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, dovey!” Remus feigned offence and caused you to roll your eyes. You don’t know why you were so nervous. These guys were your best friends. Even if they rejected you they’d never stop wanting to be friends with you. Remus patted the space on the sofa next to him, indicating you to sit there and you obliged.

“Actually, I’ll have you know I was looking for you two.” 

“Oh, really?” Sirius raised an eyebrow.

Here goes nothing.

“I like you guys. Like in the not friendly way. And I totally get if you don’t feel the same way and don’t want me to join you guys, ‘cause I don’t even know if you’re into that, but I just wanted to tell you because it’s been eating me up inside-“

“Shut up.”

“Sirius!” Remus scolded, smacking his boyfriend on the arm with the book he was holding. You remained silent, eyebrows furrowed in an attempt to mask your sadness with confusion. Slowly, you began to stand up, ready to make a run for it.

Abruptly, Sirius exclaimed, “Where are you going?

“You told me to shut up.”

“Oh yeah, that…”

“Dovey, he’s just shocked, that’s all. We feel the same way, see?” Remus comforted

“I can’t believe you didn’t bloody know we fancied you!” Sirius sat up straighter and pulled you from Remus’ side to sit on his lap, causing you to flush.

“Wait, you really like me?”

“Yes.”

“Both of you?”

“Yes.”

“Like, actually?”

“Yes.”

“And this isn’t a prank?”

“No.”

“So James and Peter aren’t hiding around a corner ready to throw treacle and feathers on me right now?”

“No.”

“And you really, actually, truly like me?”

“*Yes*!”

“Bloody hell, woman!” Sirius smashed his lips onto yours, leaving you breathless as you relax into his embrace, threading your hands through his hair before you pull apart.

“Is that enough evidence for you, sweetheart?” Remus grins as you nod, albeit hesitantly.

“Look at me. Sirius Black. Not only is he dating the fittest boy in Hogwarts, bar himself, of course, but he’s now dating the fittest girl!”

Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius’ antics.

“Wait, so we’re dating now?”

“Yes! Christ almighty…”

Write a Timmy smut to celebrate 2K!!

Been thinking this up throughout today :)

Five in Five

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, dirty talk

It's around 2:45 am when the heat from Timothee's body wakes you. You untangle your legs from his and slide your arm from underneath his neck wondering how a man so lean can produce that much body heat. He groans softly in his sleep, and you wait until he's turned over to get up and go to the bathroom. You're sure that if he sees you creeping out of his bedroom, your only chance to go to pee will be blown.

You tip toe out of his room, leaving the door open for easy access when you return and as you cross the hall for the bathroom, your eyes wander downstairs to his front doors. They're massive double doors made of dark oak standing at least fifteen feet high. For a second, you think of leaving, like you always do. You never stay the night with Timothee...well not a full night. Having sex with him and leaving once he falls asleep was just a thing you guys did. You've always left, ever since he took your virginity in a vacant Marriot hotel room during the 11th grade La Guardia field trip to Los Angeles. It wasn't until years later, you realized Timothee wanted more than that. And it's not that you don't want to be his girlfriend...it's just that being his girlfriend could mean losing him completely if things turned shitty. Losing him as a boyfriend would suck. Losing him as a friend...you weren't sure you could handle. So, you always stuck to this. Sex. Great sex. Sex that you'd only be able to get with someone that loves you just as much as you love them. You sleep with him; you tell him how much you love him-because you do-and you leave when he falls asleep. He's never mad, he's never upset (that you can see and the thought of that gnaws at you constantly) and he never brings it up when you see him again.

Until a few hours ago.

You think about it as you remove your gaze from his front door and tip toe into the bathroom. You never thought he'd convince you to stay the night, but here you are peeing in his overly expensive, self-cleaning toilet and washing your hands with $60 hand soap that smells like vanilla and lavender. You drag a hand over your face as you make your way back out, avoiding the temptation of the front door this time on your way back to his room.

The door is open the way you left it, and you walk softly into his room, jolting a little when you see Timothee sitting up in the bed. He's got his thin, white sheet draped over his naked bottom half and even though he looks half asleep, he also looks sad. Your heart breaks a little as you realize this is what he looks like when he wakes up and you aren't there.

"Relax," you whisper "I'm still here." You crawl back into Timothee's bed, climbing over his body to get back to your favorite spot on his mattress. "I told you I'd stay," you tease him in a whisper and kiss his shoulder.

Timothee relaxes a little, laying back down, holding his arm out for you to cuddle into him.

"Would it be so bad?" he asks after a few moments of silence. You thought he'd fallen back asleep, but he must have been thinking.

"What?" you answer.

"Being my girlfriend."

"Timothee-"

"No seriously, what would be so bad about it? You're used to fame, so that wouldn't be an adjustment for you. We both have crazy schedules, so you wouldn't have to worry about one of us being busier than the other. And I know everything about you, y/n. Everything."

You laugh at his confidence. He definitely knows everything about you. You'd been sleeping with him for twelve years and been friends for longer. But you weren't going to let him think he knows everything. "You don't know shit, Chalamet."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm, though it's cute that you think you do."

Timothee turns over on his side, facing you. He gives you a quick kiss that instantly turns into a deeper one. You whine when he pulls away, wanting his tongue in your mouth. He's close still, his lips grazing yours occasionally when he talks. "I know everything about you, y/n. Platonically, sexually, mentally. I know everything."

You study his face for a moment. He looks quite sure of himself. "Okay then," you say "five facts about me that no one else knows in five minutes."

"Easy."

"Go on then."

"Number one, I know that if I drag my fingertips across your back" Timothee slides his hands under the back of your shirt, demonstrating his words. "I can have you asleep in less than ten minutes."

You roll your eyes, knowing it's true. He's gotten you to sleep that way many times before.

"Four more, tick tock," you tease him.

"Number two, I know how much anxiety ordering food gives you, so I know your order at every restaurant we've ever been to, so you don't even have to say anything."

His fingers are still tracing lines up and down your back and it takes everything in you not to close your eyes against him.

"Number three, I know that if I kiss your neck right here" Timothee demonstrates his words again, placing the softest kiss to the side of your neck. "I can have you ready for sex almost instantly."

"Ugh, fuck off, Timothee."

He's right again.

You're pretty sure he takes two extra minutes just kissing your neck, the fucker, and you let him because it feels so good.

"Number four, I know that" he pulls you on top of him so that you're straddling his waist "when you're riding my dick, I have to hold your right here because it feels so good, they shake." Timothee's hands grip your thighs, his long fingers indenting the skin on your legs.

"Number five, I know that if I suck one of your nipples into my mouth" He removes a hand from your thigh and removes your shirt. Immediately, he uses his index finger to circle one of your nipples. It hardens instantly at his teasing and peppers your skin in chills "I can get you to do whatever the fuck I want."

You're silent for a minute, feeling his hard dick under you. You contemplate holding it and sliding down onto it but decide to show him he's not the only one who knows everything about the other.

"How'd I do?" Timothee asks.

"Not bad," you admit. You tease his cock with your pussy, sliding him through your wet folds. "But now it's my turn."

"Can I fuck you first?"

"No, Timmy, you can't."

Timothee groans, pressing his erection against your heat.

"You know, you can't call me 'Timmy' and not let me fuck you."

You smile knowingly, satisfied in the use of a secret weapon you learned about not too long ago while having dinner in a very public setting.

"Patience is a virtue, Timothee. Anywho, Number one, I know that when I whisper in your ear, it gives you these cute little chills all over your skin." You lean forward letting your folds slide across his hard dick again. Timothee groans softly through gritted teeth, shaking his head slowly at you. "Like this," you whisper once you're inches from his ear and like you said, you feel his skin prickle with chills. You run your hands over his arms, still gripping your thighs just the way you like, attempting to erase some of the chills you created with your warmth.

"Skip the rest and let me fuck you, y/n," Timothee begs.

"But I've got four more," you pout.

Timothee groans again, pushing his dick against you.

"Number two, I know tha-"

Your words catch in your throat as Timothee shifts on his bed, flipping you onto your back. His knees nudge your legs open, and he runs his nose along your neck until he finds the spot that makes you weak. He kisses it lightly before sucking the skin into his mouth.

"Give it up, y/n. You know it's me you think about when someone else is trying...and failing...to make you come. You know it's me you've been talking yourself out of for years. Over a decade worth of depriving yourself of the one thing you know you need the most. Why? I'm right here and I'm entirely yours. Take me."

Your eyes bounce back and forth between his, until your lips crash into each other's. Tongues winding and twisting fighting for dominance. You love him. You always have and there is no escaping him. There never will be. Timothee breaks your heated kiss and begins lining his way down to your breasts in kisses. He licks around your nipple once he's reached his destination, then suck it into his mouth. And just like he said, in that moment, you're willing to do whatever he wants.

"Be mine and no others," he says to you in between kisses to your soft skin.

"Whatever you want," you say breathlessly.

"No. Say it. Say you'll be mine and mine alone."

Timothee slides a finger along your folds of your pussy, gently pressing a finger inside to you see if you're ready for him. When he decides your wet enough, he lines himself up with you entrance. You're bracing for him; your legs are wide open and waiting but so is he.

"Y/n."

"You can't leave me when things get hard. You can't give up on us, because I can't lose you, Timothee. If I tell you yes, then this is it."

"That's all I've ever wanted."

"I mean it; you can't leave me."

"Y/n," Timothee said, as he pushed all the way inside of you, "I'd never dream of leaving you."

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @kteezy997 @sufferingstarlight @xoxoloverb @tropicalrozmajzl @iloveneilperry @syirnge

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’re heavily pregnant with sukuna’s child and so desperately need to have your specific pregnancy cravings: mangoes. when you realise you’re out of them, you turn into an emotional mess.

tags. true form!sukuna x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw. pregnancy. size difference (reader referred to as small). reader gets called ‘woman, brat’ wc: 1.8k

you’re crying in your chambers, the volume of your cries overshadowing sukuna’s arrival at the estate. you hiccup and sniffle as you sit in the corner of the master bedroom. there really doesn’t seem to be an end to your mental breakdown.

you’re prone to mood changes because of your pregnancy, already being seven months along. your belly is as round as a globe as it sticks out from under your kimono.

you hold onto your lower abdomen while mumbling to yourself. “not fair,” you rub your blurry eyes with your free hand.

the bedroom doors suddenly swing open. you lift your head from your knees and make eye contact with your husband who looks rather . . . upset. more upset than you are at the moment, that’s for sure.

you whimper as his big and intimidating stature dwarfs over yours while you’re stuck in the corner. when you look up at him, you cry even louder. seeing that familiar face after two whole days of suffering in this place alone gets you even more emotional.

after sukuna entered the room, his gaze had immediately fell upon your quivering figure. he raises an eyebrow as you cry louder once you spot him, the sound breaking his ear drums. he lets out a sharp exhale, a hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.

“enough with the tears,” sukuna grumbles as he crosses the room in a few long strides. his presence is both imposing and protective as he looms over your small figure.

his eyes flicker over your body—taking in the sight of your round belly. he can’t deny that the view makes his shoulders relax, relieved to see his wife do well after two days without seeing you.

sukuna kneels down before you, his eyes narrowing as he notices the tears running down your cheeks. who knows how long you’ve been sobbing? the realisation that no one has checked on you while you’ve been crying like this irks him.

the king of curses will make sure that every single servant - and especially the ones assigned to you - pay for not noticing your sour mood sooner.

“damn it, woman,” sukuna curses under his breath, his words laden with both irritation and a sense of concern, “what’s gotten into you now, hmm? why the blubbering mess?"

you hiccup, gasping for air as sukuna kneels down to your level, something he rarely does. one of his hands reach out to wipe a tear from your cheek, his expression stoic and unreadable while he does so.

“welcome home,” you utter, remembering to greet him properly. you wipe your own tears away and try to explain the situation without it sounding absurd. “i—i went down to the kitchen to get som-something,” you stammer, trying to spit it out before sukuna’s irritation spikes.

“but they didn’t have the food i craved—they’re out of mangoes,” your wailing starts again just at the thought of your non existent fruit. it felt like the most devastating moment in your life when the maids told you that they were out of mangoes.

sukuna’s annoyance quickly dissolves upon hearing your explanation. the revelation that you’re crying over mangoes seems so unbelievable, so absurd, that he couldn't help but let out a dry huff of laughter. an amused smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.

the pink haired man brushes the remnants of the tears away from your face. his rough fingers pause at your chin, giving it a light tap. “mangoes, huh? y’re out here bawling y’r fucking eyes out like a baby for some damn mangoes?”

despite his tough exterior, sukuna knows that pregnancy hormones often amplified emotions, making even the smallest things a cause for crying. and right now, you’re stressing and sputtering over some mangoes.

“mangoes,” you nod and cry softly, watching as sukuna rubs your cheeks with his manly fingers, enjoying his rough touch. you easily guess by just the increased toughness of his calluses that your husband has worked hard while he was gone.

though, mangoes are your current pregnancy craving and not having them meant war to you. it’s all you can focus on—even if your beloved sukuna is right in front of you.

“i need them,” you whine and pout. your hormones made it difficult for you to calm down.

you do, however, try your best to stop crying. you clean your face with the sleeve of your kimono and bite on your bottom lip to refrain from bawling your eyes out for the nth time. “i want my mangoes,” your voice is hoarse as you glance up at sukuna, “please?”

sukuna hates to admit it, but his expression softens upon hearing the hoarse tone of your pleading voice. the view of your tear-streaked face and the knowledge that you’re experiencing pregnancy cravings makes it difficult for him to maintain his usual firm demeanor.

the king of curses sighs, his annoyance replaced by a reluctant acceptance of your plight. “tsk, damn it,” he mutters, lazily resting his head against the palm of one of his hands, “y’re really gonna make me fetch you some mangoes?”

here you are, a grown woman crying and begging like a kid for a sweet, juicy mango. he’s seen you in many states - happy, sad, tired, excited - but never quite as emotionally overwhelmed just for a piece of fruit. sukuna’s large hand reaches out to pat your head in a surprisingly gentle manner, a rare display of his softer side.

you pout at sukuna and lean into his touch as he pats your head. you come up with something witty to say, as you always do. “well, you’re the one who got me pregnant,” you comment in a teasing way, sticking your tongue out at your husband.

no matter what sour mood you’re in, you can still be sassy. though it doesn’t last long before your bottom lip trembles again. “i can’t do anything about it. the baby craves mangos,” you whine as you rub your baby bump to emphasise your words.

you are eating for two people after all—for you and the baby.

sukuna’s smirk widened at your retort and the playful gesture. even in your distraught state, you had the audacity to sass him. damn cheeky little woman.

the pink-haired man chuckled darkly, his hand clumsily ruffling your hair again before pulling away. “‘n i don’t regret a thing. even if i gotta put up with y’r cranky ass.”

you roll your eyes at sukuna’s reply. you know you’re an emotional mess, but you couldn’t care less. anything for your mangoes—those juicy ones that you could eat a dozen of in one sitting.

“the maids said that the mangoes were out of stock in the towns ‘nd villages nearby,” you continue while you carefully stand up from the corner. you’re trying your best to stay rational. you’re extremely hungry and haven’t eaten ever since breakfast. that’s how stubborn you are being.

“but i’m hungryyyyy. want my mangoes,” you sigh and nearly stomp your feet out of frustration.

“yeah, yeah—fuckin’ hell,” sukuna groans, watching you slowly stand up, your pregnant belly protruding like a perfect sphere. it’s a constant reminder of the effect he has on you, and somehow, it makes him proud.

he helps you stand up by holding onto your arm, sharp eyes focused on your body to make sure you don’t strain a single muscle.

after you manage to stand up straight, you walk with sukuna to the kitchen to find something to eat—perhaps some other fruit will satisfy your cravings for now.

sukuna follows behind you, his steps long and leisurely while your shorter strides keep the pace with him. as the two of you walked towards the kitchen, he continues to listen to your repeated mantra. it’s driving him insane.

“mangoes, mangoes, mangoes. i get it, brat,” the king of curses swears he can feel the vein in his forehead throb. you’re lucky that he . . . tolerates you as his wife.

it’s something more than just ‘tolerating’ you, of course. but openly admitting to loving you, even in the slightest, is something sukuna would never do.

if someone would ask him why he goes the extra mile for you, his answer would be that it’s simply because you’re carrying his heir. however only sukuna knows the full truth, the sappy secret he’ll forever keep to himself.

before you arrive at the kitchen, you bump into uraume. they glance from sukuna to you and bow. “good day,” they greet you with as much respect as they do to sukuna. they’ve been doing so ever since you gained your title as his wife.

the king of curses folds all four of his arms over his chest. his lower pair of eyes are still focused on your impatient self, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. he just knows you’re holding yourself back from asking for your active pregnancy craving again.

sukuna clicks his tongue and nods his head at you while he speaks to uraume. “keep an eye on her while ‘m gone. feed her what she wants,” he says in his deep voice, his tone commanding and firm.

uraume remains quiet for a second. sukuna had recently came back from a mission and is once again heading out for some ambiguous reason, but they know better than to question their master.

“where are you going, hubby?”

you of course, get a free pass. you don’t hesitate at all before questioning your husband. sukuna scoffs when he hears your voice ask him that in such an oblivious manner. you should’ve known where he was departing to.

“where’d you think, smartass?” he pinches your nose, causing you to swat his fingers away out of instinct. he gives up on your nose and moves to squeeze your cheeks together in a gentle yet firm manner.

you huff at his antics. sukuna grins at your frown and pout before releasing your jawline with a faint push.

“you better hold on ‘til i come back with y’r stupid mangoes,” he scoffs while turning around to walk to the entrance, “and when i do, i don’t wanna hear ‘nother squeak, understood?”

sukuna seems to have made another mission for himself; find his heavily pregnant wife mangoes before she goes absolutely insane.

your face lights up and you nod repeatedly. your heart melts when you realise that sukuna is actually putting effort to satisfy your needs. he may be harsh and stern at times, but his actions speak louder than his words.

“okay! love you, ‘kuna!” you call out to your lover while he disappears behind the gates. as expected, your words are met by silence.

that’s fine with you. not hearing an ‘i love you’ back doesn’t hurt you as much as it did at the start of you relationship.

you know sukuna cherishes you in his own special way. if he didn’t, you’d be dead long time ago. on top of that, he would not go out on a hunt for mangoes right after coming back home if he didn’t like you.

you know sukuna would let the world burn for you.

REGULUS BLACK | 21:08 — HOLD HER!

SUM : after a boggart class, you rush to Regulus for comfort. The only thing is… the grumpy slytherin doesn’t really know how to comfort someone. Thankfully James is there.  

TAGS. : grumpy regulus ; sunshine reader ; gryffindor reader ; sunshine character seeking comfort in grumpy character trope ; remus approval secured ; sirius needs some convincing ; regulus needs a hug ; but reader needs it more in this fic ; regulus not wanting to admit stuff ; regulus sucks at emotions ; james being a lowkey but loud and panicky wingman ; protective james ; protective regulus 

LENGTH : 1.2k

PART 0.5 (PREQUEL)

“What. The. Fuck…” Sirius exclaims only to receive a hit upside the head by Remus who also pins him with a warning glare, “What?!” the eldest Black brother shouts and gestures to the unbelievable display happening before them, “Shouldn’t you be the one demanding answers? Usually she goes to you for this!”

Instead of answering him, Remus fixes an unreadable stare onto the scene happening before him; trying his hardest to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. Finally his suspicions were confirmed and he was happy to witness its conclusion. It was about time. 

Yes, he was the person you typically sought comfort from when distressed and he was more than happy to be that person for you, however, he’s seen your longing glances and has witnessed many of the one-sided conversations you’ve had with the silent, grumpy slytherin — who was the complete opposite of you in demeanour and attitude. It’s an interesting sight seeing you constantly approach him with your bright smile, sweet face and sparkling eyes, a contrast to his notorious emotionless and cold disposition.

Some people who’ve also witnessed your interactions with Regulus Black couldn’t understand why you were so persistent when he barely said a word back and scarcely showed any interest in return to your friendly advances. They thought you were crazy but you were so bubbly and sweet with everyone, they assumed that it’s just a part of your nature to approach even those who were deemed unapproachable. 

And Regulus Black is unapproachable. To everyone — except you.

Regulus never understood you. 

Usually, whenever someone brave enough to approach him started conversation, they would get so turned off by his aloofness that they would cut the interaction short and move on. Those that continued to persist, received a glare and offensive remark, which finally shook them off and out of his personal space. 

But you. 

You love his personal space. He couldn’t so-easily push you away like the others. Your tenacity rivalled the stubbornness of a bull — it was quite admirable. You weren’t deterred by his aloofness nor his ice-cold glare and snide remark. Secretly he was grateful. He’s grown to love your company (though he’d never say it out loud) ever since you shot down his attempt at forcing distance between the two of you. 

“Why would you say that? That’s so mean,” your pout was adorable, “and stop trying to look scary,” you poke your finger between his brows and ease the creases in his skin from his glare, “it doesn’t work when you have such a pretty face,”

Pretty…

You love calling him that, although he’d argue that the flattering term suited you much more than him. Growing up, he was told to despise Gryffindors; his brother was the only exception until you came along with your pretty smile, pretty eyes, pretty nose, pretty hair, pretty voice, pretty lips — pretty everything! 

…he’d never admit it out loud, however. 

He’d never admit a lot of things out loud when it came to you. Maybe that’s why he hardly said anything when you were around him. At least he doesn’t scowl as much anymore, he just holds a blank stare whilst trying to stop a smile from taking over his face.

He likes listening to you a lot more than he does anyone else and appreciates your company very much, even if it’s just to listen to you talk about your day and all the things you’ve done; how you loved the omelette they served for breakfast, how you really wanted to learn how to ride a broom but were terrified of heights, how your favourite subject was astrology and eagerly waited for each lesson, how you love his company and being close to him. 

He loves it too, being close to you. You’re warm and soft and he loves your fragrance. Surprisingly, it’s not as sickly sweet as he’d once imagined (and dreaded). Rather, you smelled perfectly floral with a hint of piquant spice that was unique to you. It wasn’t intoxicating, instead, it was calming and Regulus was addicted to the peace you were able to bring into his chaotic life, a life that remained jumbled with no help from his Gryffindor brother, his only brother, someone he still deeply but silently adored.  

Regulus appreciated you for being able to give him regular updates on his estranged brother since you were pretty good friends with the Marauders. You were especially close to Remus, which you admitted was due to his level-headedness and calmness. You explained to him that being around such stolid characters were comforting to you because their presence was reassuring. Regulus didn’t understand your reasoning. Although it could be because a creeping jealousy had coloured his eyes green for the tall brunette he had never had the pleasure of officially meeting. Nevertheless, it answered his question on why you so often gravitated towards Remus, especially when distressed. 

So… why were you desperately clinging to him when Remus was just across the courtyard?

James was in a frenzy. He had been worried ever since this morning. Ever since meeting you, he had grown to see you as his younger sister and with that, came a an urge to protect you from all things physical and intangible. Therefore, it was only natural for his senses to flood with worry as soon as you mentioned ‘boggart’ over your a plate of your favourite omelette at breakfast. You were going to have your boggart lesson for DADA today. 

Consumed by worry, James had rushed to the courtyard as soon as morning classes were over and desperately searched the crowd for you. Remus tried to assure him, confident in your courage as a fellow Gryffindor but that wasn’t enough to quell his anxiety for your condition. 

His apprehension was for good reason, it seemed, because for the first time ever! There were tears in your eyes. You were crying. You were sad. Sad enough to sob in someone’s arms. In Regulus Black’s arms!

“WhAt ARe yOU DoING?!” James shouts, his voice cracking and fluctuating from his panicked state as his hands grip and pull at his untamed locks. 

For the first time ever, Regulus stutters, “I-I—…uhh!” 

James’ eyes widen at Regulus’ shaking hands, hanging suspended in the air, his fingers twitching slightly from his hesitation and inexperience with comforting someone, “YOU IDIOT!” only James Potter would have the nerve to call Regulus Black an ‘idiot’.

In his eyes, James was watching his precious baby sister, who he loves to pieces, sob into the arms of someone she wanted comfort from but had no clue how to comfort her, “HOLD HER!” James demands, “HURRY!” 

Finally…FINALLY Regulus hugs you back, one hand on the back of your head to softly pet your hair down as his other circles around your waist and pulls you close. He feels you sob into his shoulder as your shaking hands cling onto the back of his button up shirt. When he focuses on your trembling sobs and usually sorrowful form, an ache takes hold of his heart and he finds himself clinging onto you. 

You don’t deserve to cry. You’re far too precious and sweet to deserve experiencing such distress. Whoever did this to you, once he finds the culprit, will have hell to pay…

As soon as you feel the secure squeeze of Regulus’ arms around you, your shaking sobs slowly reduce to pitiful hiccups and faint sniffles. Beside your ear, Regulus whispers soft, kind assurances and you’ve never felt so safe. It escapes you that Regulus was actually speak to you instead of the other way around. 

“It’s okay, my flower…” your heart leaps in your chest, “you’re going to be okay; I’m here for you,” 

A/N : i had this idea and parts of it written ages ago and rediscovered it while i was on holiday — finally! i got to finish it haha! i hope you lovelies enjoy, this turned out better than i originally imagined it to go 

NAVI. | PART 0.5

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88

Shadow

Anon Request.

​Love your blog can you do something for Lee not that you’ve seen the movie. 

Wordcount: 3.4K+

Description: Living on your own isn’t too bad, why live with people when they have done nothing but hurt you. Until you are suddenly being followed by a man. He seems harmless and maybe being alone isn’t so bad if you are alone with him.

A/N: My first Lee. I have no idea where this came from. I was supposed to be writing smut and it went left field. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.

Warning: Mention of SA, attempted SA,  drug overdose, Murder, Lee eating a person. A bit of angst, and a bit of fluff at the end.

Keep reading

GUILTY AS SIN?

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Targ!reader || 18+; MDNI!

Synopsis: Jacaerys hadn’t meant to watch you. He hadn’t meant to interfere, either. Yet here he is, on his knees in front of you, finally claiming what’s his - honor and propriety be damned. 

c.w.: smutty smut!! (fem masturbation + Jace watching reader without her knowing it at first, so some  slight dubcon elements?; piv sex, unprotected sex, implied loss of virginity, oral (f! receiving), hair-pulling, mild breeding kink, mild praise kink, soft!dom Jace) Targcest - Jace and reader are cousins; infidelity 

word count: 4.2k (oops??) || Jacaerys masterlist

AN: I really don’t know what came over me, this really is just filth with barely any plot, someone please get me some holy water so I can cleanse my mind from these thoughts … Also, I love Baela, but for the prospect of some forbidden love, we’re gonna have to go behind her back here. 

Jacaerys hadn’t meant to watch you. 

Truly, his only intention in coming to your chambers had been to check up on you, seeing as you’d been so unusually quiet and withdrawn during dinner. 

He wasn’t prepared for what awaited him when he cautiously opened your door after you hadn’t answered either or his tentative knocks. 

The sight before him had him frozen in shock, rooted to the spot. 

You - stretched out on your bed, wearing nothing but your thin nightdress that had already slipped away in some places, revealing your breasts as well as the soft skin of your upper thighs - and your swollen core, already leaking slick. 

Jacaerys couldn’t help himself - he stood, transfixed, watching as your back arched off the bed, your fingers desperately moving in and out of your cunt. 

He shouldn’t watch. He should go, now. 

This was wrong on so many levels, he tried to remind himself. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but watch, mesmerized, as your fingers moved in and out of your core in a desperate pace. Greedily, he took in every breathy little moan, every squelching sound your cunt made. 

This was wrong, so wrong. 

This was a private moment he’d never been meant to witness, and oh - there was also the small problem of you being his fiancee’s sister. 

He should go, now. 

Your eyes were closed, so you hadn’t seen him yet, but still, he couldn’t bring himself to move. 

It’s what he should have done, what he should still do, but he can’t bring himself to look away from you. 

Jacaerys doesn’t know how long he’s been standing here, watching in a desperate, heady fascination as you desperately try to bring yourself to satisfaction. 

He knows that it’s wrong, that he shouldn’t be watching you, should have turned around the second he saw what you were doing, but he doesn’t care. 

Honor and propriety be damned, he thinks as he runs a hand through his dark curls in distress, feeling his breeches growing tighter by the second. 

Just then, you moan, loudly and desperately. 

„Jacaerys.“ 

Jacaerys’ eyes widen in shock, and he can’t help himself, he steps even closer towards your bed. 

Again, you moan his name, your face screwing up in pleasure. 

He feels his heart beating faster, his breath becoming more and more erratic. 

Your movements have become even more desperate, you’re rocking back and forth on your bed, your fingers desperately trying to chase your high. 

The only sounds filling the room are your whiny, desperate moans and the squelching sounds your cunt makes. 

Jacaerys knows that he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be watching you, but he can’t help himself greedily drinking in every one of your breathless moans, and every single move of your fingers. 

„Oh Jacaerys, please-“

There’s his name again, this time followed by a broken moan and he bites down hard on his lips, desperately fighting the urge to move his hand down to his now impossibly tight breeches. 

„Jace, oh gods-“

Hearing you moan his name like that breaks something within him. Caution and thought are forgotten. Instead, what remains are only his yearning and desperate desire to finally claim you as his. 

He can’t contain himself no longer, can no longer ignore the sensation of his breeches feeling so impossibly tight, can no longer ignore all the desperate, lust-driven thoughts running through his head. 

„Don’t stop, Princess.“ 

You hadn’t mean for this to happen. 

You’d never intended to lose control like that, to behave so wantonly and improper. 

But after seeing them laughing together at dinner, seeing the way he’d so easily leaned into her touch, seeing that easy understanding between them, seeing the way his eyes seemingly lit up with warmth whenever your sister so much as looked at him, you hadn’t been able to stand this gnawing feeling of desperation no longer. 

Quietly, you’d excused yourself from the table, walking to your chambers. 

But neither the warm bath your maids drew you, not the book you tried to immerse yourself in could ease that itch underneath your skin. 

Baela is your sister and Jacaerys is her betrothed and you should be happy for them, happy for the fine match they make. 

But instead, the only thing you feel is jealousy and this consuming, all-encompassing desire for Jacaerys. 

Your sister’s fiancé, yes, yet the only man you’ve ever desired. 

And so, you’d found yourself tossing and turning in your bed, until you’d frustratedly thrown your sheets to the side. 

Biting down hard on your lip and drowning in guilt and shame, your hand had moved between your legs, and as you’d started to pleasure yourself, you started to imagine yourself in Baela’s stead. 

You were the one Jacaerys would marry. 

You were the one sitting next to him at dinner, laughing and talking and it was your touch he leaned into so easily. 

It was your touch he craved, and your pleasure he wanted to bring about. 

These were his hands on you, his fingers moving in and out of you, bringing you to bliss in a rough, desperate pace. 

His lips were leaving featherlight kisses all over your body - your lips, your neck, your breasts, your stomach - while he continued to pleasure you. 

And you were so caught up in chasing your fantasies and your pleasure that you didn’t hear the quiet, tentative knock on your door, neither the sound of your door opening. 

You still haven’t noticed Jacaerys, too caught up in the heat building and building and building in your stomach to notice him walking closer towards your bed, running a hand through his hair in distress. 

The sound of your moans covers his own erratic breathing, you’re too lost in the throes of pleasure to notice anything else besides the fire slowly building within you. 

Until you moan his name. 

„Jace, oh gods-“

A shuffling sound, like someone fixing their clothes, followed by a quiet sigh. Your own? 

„Don’t stop, Princess.“ 

You open your eyes in shock.  

Panting and breathless, you both stare at each other. 

„Jacaerys“, is the only thing you manage to get out, your voice breathless. 

Holding your gaze, Jacaerys starts unbuttoning his coat. 

„Don’t stop“, he repeats, and there’s a certainty and sense of authority to his voice you’ve never heard before. 

And you’re so surprised, so overwhelmed by all these different emotions coursing through you - shame and anxiety upon being discovered by him of all people, yet there’s still your undying desire for him, and heat is still pooling in your stomach, you’re so close - that you do exactly as he says. 

You pick up your pace again, burying your fingers within your cunt again, all the while looking at Jacaerys who’s biting down hard on his lips. 

You’re all too conscious of your nearly naked body and the squelching sounds your cunt makes as you continue to move your fingers in and out of yourself, but then Jacaerys groans loudly, running a hand through his hair, all while still holding your gaze, and all your self-consciousness is forgotten. 

„By the Seven, you’re incredible, Princess“, he breathes. 

His voice breaks something within you, and all you can do is give in to the mounting pleasure. 

Your eyes never leave Jacaerys’ as you continue to pleasure yourself, your fingers moving in and out of your cunt, your other hand gripping tightly onto the bedsheets. 

Jacaerys waches you, greedily taking every little movement, every single one of your broken moans in, as he continues to undress himself. 

His shirt. 

His belt. 

His boots. 

When it’s just his breeches, hanging low on his hips, remaining, he closes the last bit of distance between you, sitting down at the edge of your bed. 

For a moment, you stop in your ministrations, too distracted by him. He’s perfect, his chest toned and muscular, just like a sculpted statue. 

But then your eyes land on the visible bulge in his breeches and your breath hitches. Suddenly, your fingers aren’t enough anymore, you want, no need to see him, feel him filling you up. 

„Jace, oh gods-“

Another broken whimper leaves your mouth, and blindly, you reach out for Jacaerys with your free hand. His hand finds yours, and he interlaces your fingers together, his grip strong and sure and steadying as the heat building in your belly becomes almost too much to bear. 

„Jace, I can’t - please“ 

By this point, you’re an incoherent, whimpering mess, and besides his hand gripping yours, he hasn’t even touched you yet. Just then, he leans down, his free hand tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

„That’s it, Princess, come for me“, he whispers, before he lowers his lips to your neck. 

The added sensation of his lips sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck is too much, and so, you follow his command. 

Your back arches off the bed and you hold on to Jacaerys’ hand for dear life as something within you unravels and white hot pleasure washes over you. 

You’ve never felt this way before, could have never even imagined that something like this could even feel so good. 

When it’s over, you fall back onto the sheets, panting. When you open your eyes again, you immediately find Jacaerys’ gaze. The realization of what just happened washing over you. Seven hells, you just pleasured yourself with your sister’s fiancé watching you, guiding you through it. 

But then you see your own burning desire mirrored in his dark brown eyes, and any thoughts of shame, guilt and regret are forgotten, at least for the moment. 

You’ve long since passed the point of no return, and so, you don’t even hesitate before winding your arms around Jacaerys’ neck and pulling him down for a kiss. 

He makes a soft, surprised noise, but that’s as much of an upper hand he’s willing to give you, because immediately the kiss feels fiery and hungry. The way his lips move against yours is almost bruising, and when he coaxes you to open your mouth, all you can do is comply as his tongue claims you. 

One of his hands starts moving over your breasts, making you whimper when he pinches one of your nipples between his fingers, and then gently rolls the stiffened bud between his fingers. His other hand starts moving lower, first over your stomach and your lower abdomen, but then his fingers move over the inner sides of your thighs and your breath hitches in anticipation. 

Jacaerys immediately notices your reaction, breaking away from the kiss for a moment to look at you. „Greedy, aren’t you?“ 

„Jacaerys, please“, you whisper, your hands moving to tangle themselves in his hair and when you tug at his dark curls, he lets out a pleased groan, and you know that he’s yearning for this to happen as much as you are. „I want you, Jacaerys. So take me, make me yours, claim me-“

The rest of your words are swallowed by another hungry kiss and a broken moan leaving your mouth when his hand cups your clit, his fingers moving over you swollen, already overstimulated bundle of nerves.

Gone is the gentle and composed Jacaerys, the regal prince that carries himself with poise, elegance and grace. Left in his place is a desperate man, slave to his most primal desires, yearning to finally make his longings come true. 

His kiss continues to leave you dizzy, and combined with the sensation of his hand drawing teasing circles over your clit, you feel the heat begin to pool in your stomach again.  

Just then, Jacaerys moves, shifting in his position, and you whimper when you can feel his erection straining against your stomach. 

Panting, you break the kiss, looking at him. „Jace-“

He smirks. „Patience, Princess. I want to taste you first.“

Your eyes widen and you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks as the full meaning of his words sink in. This is beyond your wildest fantasies, even. When you’d imagined yourself with Jacaerys, he was always the one taking you, in various positions, and sometimes he even had you on your knees, pleasuring him with your mouth. 

„But - but what about you, Jace?“, you whisper, eyes searching his. 

At your words, his eyes visibly soften for a moment, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. „Don’t worry about that yet“, he says, looking at you again, before slowly moving down your body. „But do tell me if something I do is not to your liking“, he adds, the gentler, more composed side of him returning for a brief moment. 

You nod, though you can’t imagine in the slightest that that might be the case. 

When he sees you nod so urgently, Jacaerys just smirks. 

He doesn’t say anything else, instead, he lets his lips and hands speak for him.

As he starts to kiss his way down your body, leaving featherlight kisses on your neck, your sternum, your breasts - which has your breath hitching and your grip on his dark curls tightening - your stomach, your lower abdomen, your hips; his hands continue to move over your body, one hand occupied with your breasts, the other still between your legs, still drawing teasing circles over your clit. 

„Jace“, you moan, when he leaves featherlight kisses on the inner sides of your thighs, all the while continuing to tease your bundle of nerves with his fingers, but not doing anything else just yet. 

And just when you think that you can’t take any more of his teasing, he sucks your clit into his mouth, before his tongue dives between your folds. 

„Oh, oh gods-“, you moan, grip on his dark curls tightening. 

This is so much better than your own fingers could ever be. 

The arrogant, knowing smirk Jacaerys gives you as his tongue continues to move in and out of your core tells you that he knows exactly the effect he has a you, and he enjoys it. 

He’ll ruin you for any other man - in more ways than just the obvious - and he’ll ruin any other man for you, but you don’t care. 

Can’t bring yourself to care as his tongue continues to work you up to a frenzy, while he applies pressure to your bundle of his nerves with his thumb. 

The heat is building and building and building, and you can feel that it won’t take much more for the coil you snap. 

Just then, his tongue reaches a particular spot that has you seeing stars, and you moan, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. 

„Yes, right there, please, Jacaerys, please-“, you whimper incoherently, hands tugging at his hair in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. 

He continues to lap at you in earnest, reaching that spot again and again and again, you don’t think you can handle much more of this. The building pressure is too much to bear, and just then, Jacaerys’ tongue reaches that spot again, and you break. 

Dizzying waves of pleasure wash over you, threatening you to drown you, as your back arches of the bed again and something inside of you explodes. 

Jacaerys takes it all, takes everything you give him, the harsh tugs on his dark curls, your legs shaking, and your juices flooding his mouth. He takes it all, greedily drinking in every last drop. 

„Oh, seven hells“, you pant weakly, falling back into the sheets, your whole body feeling like jelly. 

Your second orgasm leaves you much more wrecked and spent than your first, and you don’t even notice Jacaerys moving up again, until you feel his fingers gently stroke over your cheek. 

„You’re amazing, Princess“, he tells you. 

You open your eyes again to see him leaning over you, his lips still covered with your juices, his nose still glistening with it as well. To you, he’s never looked more beautiful than in this moment, and so you don’t even hesitate before pulling him down for another kiss. 

It’s messy, with strings of your slick still connected to his lips, and you think that it should feel weird that you can taste yourself on his lips, but it doesn’t, it just feels utterly amazing. 

And even though just mere seconds ago, you’ve been trying to catch your breath, feeling your heartbeat accelerate, it’s you that deepens the kiss, you, who boldly moves a hand between you, cupping his clothed erection. 

Now that you’ve had a taste, you feel that you won’t be able to stop until you’ve had it all, until you’ve felt him, really felt him, move inside you, filling you up to the brink. 

Jacaerys groans when your fingers move over his clothed erection, his kiss turning even more desperate, until he breaks away, panting. 

„Are you sure?“, he asks you, leaning his forehead against yours, looking down at you with pure, unfiltered desire in his eyes. 

You nod, moving your fingers over him. 

He groans again, but when his eyes find yours again, there’s a dark edge to them. „Are you sure? Sure you can take another one?“ 

Oh gods. His words, and the dark, sinister tone in which he says them has you biting down on your bottom lip. 

You nod, again, and finally Jacaerys gives in, leaving another bruising kiss on your lips before sitting up and taking his breeches and small clothes off. 

You watch him, too afraid to even blink, and when your eyes finally land on his erection, you swallow, whimpering. He’s so big - when he finally claims you it will surely feel like being speared open. 

And yet, your desire once again wins out, as you reach out your hand once again, cupping his now bare member. 

„Fuck“, Jacaerys groans, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure. 

This only spurs your confidence, and now, feeling bold, and driven by this all-encompassing desire for Jacaerys, you begin stroking his member up and down in earnest, your thumb stroking over the tip, sticky with his pre-cum. 

Jacaerys groans, driving his hips up into your hand. His hands settle on your waist once again, and his grip turns almost painfully harsh as you continue to edge him on. 

Just then, he slaps your hand away, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. „Keep doing that and I won’t last much longer, Princess“, he says, his voice oddly strained. 

His brown eyes find yours once again, and in them, you same the same desire and longing you feel mirrored back at you. 

„But-“, you start to protest, but Jacaerys immediately silences you with a finger to your lips. 

„Some other time“, he promises you, and you seem to light up at his words. You know that this should never have happened and that there should never ever even be another time, but just the prospect of that excites you. 

„And you promised me another one, didn’t you?“ 

And just like that, all the gentle playfulness has vanished from his words, leaving only lust and desire in its place. 

You nod, biting down hard on your bottom lip, as Jacaerys positions himself at your entrance. 

You watch, entranced, as he guides his member into you. But then, almost immediately, you hiss in pain when he breaches your walls. It’s not much more than the tip, but still, this so different from your fingers or his tongue. 

Jacaerys stops, leaning down to kiss you. The kiss is gentle and soft, and you wind your arms around his neck again, finding both comfort and solace in it. And the longer you kiss him, the more you get used to the feeling of him inside you. 

In fact, it’s you, crossing your legs behind his back, guiding him deeper inside you. The sensation is still somewhat uncomfortable, but Jacaerys’ loud, satisfied moan and the kiss that’s already turned deeper and more passionate, distract you from the pain, and as Jacaerys continues to sink even deeper into you, pain and pleasure begin to mix and you find yourself wanting more. 

And so, when he’s finally bottomed out and looks down at you, asking „Alright, Princess?“, you just tangle your hands in his dark curls again, driving your hips up to meet his. 

„Move, please“, you beg him, and Jacaerys starts to chuckle, but when you drive your hips up into him again, he groans, the feeling of friction too delicious to ignore. 

Jacaerys begins moving in and out of you slowly, his hips driving into you in a leisurely pace - pulling all the way out of you, before slowly sinking back down again. 

It’s torture, this pace he’s setting. The heat in your lower stomach is building and building again, but with the pace Jace is setting, it seems as if you’ll never reach the boiling point. You try to meet his movements, moving your hips up and down, but Jacaerys soon catches on to what you’re doing and his hands settle at your waist with a tight grip, keeping you in place. 

„Jace, please“, you beg, tugging at his dark curls. 

He groans, losing control for a moment, and thrusting into you harshly. The new pace and intensity has you crying out in pleasure, but then it’s back to long, slow thrusts and you feel as if you could cry from frustration. 

„Jace, please, just - just fuck me, don’t hold back“, you beg him, your grip on his hair tightening. That, combined with your words finally gets his attention, and when he looks down at you again, there’s a new, dark gleam in his eyes. It’s as dangerous as it is alluring, and you feel completely caught up in his trap. 

„Oh, so it’s like that, Princess?“, he says, his hips snapping into yours, and you cry out from the intensity. „You want me to fuck you, want me to fill you up, is that it?“

He doesn’t leave you any chance to answer him, his hips now snapping into yours with abandon, his cock driving into you with an intensity and pace that has you seeing stars. One of your hands stays buried in his dark brown curls, while the other moves towards his upper back. 

For a moment, you worry about your fingernails leaving scratches on his back - but another particularly harsh thrust of his, combined with the sensation of one of his hands slowly moving towards your core quickly has you forgetting any thoughts not concerned with the current moment. 

His pace now is brutal and you hold on to him for dear life as his hips piston into you, his cock continuing to spear you open. 

„Jace, oh gods-“, you breathe out, biting down on your lower lip.

When he sees this gesture, Jacaerys just shakes his head, his free hand moving up to cup your cheek. „Don’t. Don’t hold back. Let them hear.“ 

His words alone make you moan, and then, his thumb is there on your clit, steadily applying pressure as he continues to move in and out of you at a brutal pace. 

„Jace, I can’t - oh gods-“, you groan, fingernails digging into his back. 

„That’s it, Princess“, he whispers with another intense thrust, „come for me.“

And then, something within you breaks, and you come for the third time. 

Your fingernails are digging into his back, your legs locked behind his back, and as Jacaerys continues to thrust into you, he can feel your walls clenching around him, absolutely squeezing him. 

The sound of your broken voice, crying out his name, does him in and after thrusting into you once, twice, thrice more, he comes as well, shooting his hot seed into you. 

The sensation is too much for your overstimulated core, and you whimper, your eyes screwing shut, as you hold on to Jacaerys for dear life. 

Just like before, he’s there to guide you through everything - his free hand reaching out to grab the one you quickly untangle from his dark curls. 

You hold onto each other as fire washes over you, white hot waves of pleasure threatening to drown you both. 

This time, it takes you even longer to come down from your high, and when you do, your whole body feels like jelly. 

Luckily, Jacaerys is there for you. He carefully pulls out of you, before gently scooping you up in his arms, reaching out for your bedsheets and drawing them over you both. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your shoulder, the action so gentle and innocent and so unlike anything else that just transpired between you two. He reaches out for your hand with one hand, interlacing your fingers together.

„By the seven, you’re incredible Princess“, he whispers, pressing another chaste kiss to your shoulder as his free hand slowly moves down your body again. When you can feel his hand lightly moving over your core, you can’t help but whimper. 

You’re so sore and overstimulated, you’re not quite sure how much more you can take. 

„There“, Jacaerys whispers, squeezing your hand as his fingers scoop up some of his seed that’s trickled down the insides of your thighs. 

You whimper, incoherent, broken moans leaving you when you can feel his fingers pushing into you again. 

„Sh“, he whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. „I’m just making sure that we’re not wasting a single drop, Princess.“ 

So, uh, any thoughts? 👀