#driven flushed

[sabraeal]

as a writer how do you stop thinking about like getting kudos/comments? I've just started writing fanfic, and when I start a writing something -- it goes well and then eventually I get to point where I'm like "ahh but what the readers don't like that? or what if I don't get as many kudos or comments" and it makes it difficult to continue because then it becomes stressful -- I guess how do you deal with "wanting to write stuff for yourself" and "wanting validation" thanks!

You're going to hate this answer, because I hated it too, but TIME. When you first start writing and you get kudos and comments and people love what you're doing, it's a huge validation of your effort and talent, and it's natural that you want MORE of it. When I first started putting up fics I already had been writing for 15+ years, knew I was good at it, and still for a good few years found myself really glued to the hit counter, and the kudos, and wondering how I'd be able to get people to comment the same way they did on things like Seven Suitors.

But the thing is that commenting comes and goes in waves, and unless a fandom has a big comment culture, or is large enough that you're guaranteed a good glut of them every time you post...you're going to hit a point where you write exactly what everyone wants and get crickets. And at that point you'll get ANNOYED, because LOOK, I MADE THIS, i made it for YOU GUYS, and now y'all don't have anything to say? It'll get to you. It'll make you doubt that you know what anyone wants at all. It'll happen and it'll suck the whole time.

Lots of advice will say "write for yourself," which is an excellent sentiment. You should always write what YOU want. Put into your fic what you want to see, write the nitpicky poetic metaphors and craft the most screwball twists your heart desires. Pour yourself into the most niche AUs and most tin-hat canon theories. At the end of the day, you want the IDEAS you put down to be for you, because comments and kudos are nice, but if they don't come...you have to be proud of what you put out, even when it feels like an echo chamber.

But also...we don't POST things for ourselves. We post things to share. Fic are a conversation with canon and it is perfectly natural to want to create something that creates conversation among other fans. So you're never going to fully get the need for validation out of your head, you're not. You can hide hit counts and ignore your inbox all you like, but the want to have someone interact with your work, to inspire someone to reach out to you will ALWAYS be there. You just have to create a healthier relationship with it.

Be confident in what you write. Think less about whether people will like it, and more about how you WANT them to react. The reader is the most important character in any novel, but it's the one most authors forget to manage. When you come to a point where you go "oh man, I hope this is good for them!" stop and go, "what do I *want* them to be feeling here?" Focus on where you're putting their attention and whether you WANT it there. There's so much you can do when you visualize your relationship with the reader as PART of the work, and it takes off a lot of the pressure of "is this good? is it disappointing? will this get me validation?" and brings it back into the realm of storytelling. You are taking your reader on a journey, and when you do it well people will think less about "did I like that?" and more about "what comes next?"

#asks #writing advice #writing #please understand nonnie that what you are feeling is completely natural and part of the process #and shades of that will stick with you no matter how good you get #but the thing you want to keep in the center of your mind when it comes to that #is that you can only get kudos once on a fic and you are lucky to get a 1:100 comment vs hits ratio #so the instant validation WILL dry up and you'll have to have something about your story #that makes you push through. because people will come back and comment! #people will blow through 50+ chapter and leave you the most emotionally hungover review promising you their first borns #but sometimes you will have written a good third of them with NO feedback whatsoever #and you just have to trust in yourself that it's good. it's FINE #i used to obsessively check hits and be really put out to see how many people were coming and not commenting #especially when i wrote really emotionally driven stuff and really tore myself up to get those feelings through #but i also would have been miserable only writing fluffy 1 or 2 shots with no plot just to get the flush of comments those fics get #you just gotta do what you gotta do and let your audience find you. recontextualizing the relationship helps a LOT #i already was big on focusing on the meta plot of my works because as i said. 15+ years. had a lot of time to experiment and get good #but i still had to like. give myself the same pep talk 2 years in about how to view that relationship #everyone goes through it and if they say they don't they're a liar and i mean that seriously 🤣

[gggoldfinch]

Before I knocked out with the anesthesia today my doc was like “so what are you gonna dream about?” (Odd question since you don’t dream while put under…) “Work? Food? Boys?” to which I scrunched my nose and shook my head “No boys?” She asks incredulously, one of the nurses laughs. I say “Ew nah, I’d rather dream about food.” And like 4 people started laughing, then I got manhandled and passed out 💀

#the anesthesia flush hurt my hand so fucking bad this time my fingers seized up and it felt like there was a nail being driven thru my hand

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — sometimes your boyfriend’s want for you just seems to be insatiable.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, mating press, breeding, biting, he loses control of his technique a teeny tiny bit at the end, im going absolutely insane. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiii this is a lil mix of my gojo thoughts over the past few months, my sanity is slipping as u can tell <3

the way gojo satoru was in bed was exactly how he was in real life, absolutely merciless when he wanted to be, you realise with the dizzy haze in your mind and the pillow he’s shoved under your hips. there’s a pleasurable burn in your thighs where he’s got them folded into you, your ankles dangling by his ears as his hips press into your ass and the way he looks over you is needy, and a little wild.

but he only really got like this on on a few occasions, like after a gruelling mission, a boring mountain of paperwork or maybe you’d been teasing him. sometimes he’s just consumed by the idea of you carrying his kids— he’s so incredibly insatiable.

“you feel me right here, sweet thing, hm?” the snowy haired man above you hisses with a languid roll of his hips, deliberately pressing into the sweet spots inside of you that he always seems to be able to find so easily. but you can barely breathe, nevermind answer with how full you feel — your warm walls twitching around his heavy shaft before he’s giving you a few more thrusts.

“don’t hold out on me, it feels good, right?” gojo goads, chuckles when the next particularly deep kiss of his cock along your insides has your lips parting to moan, eyes squeezing shut as you wriggle underneath him.

“‘ts too deep, satoru! fuck—“ you manage, voice breaking under the weight of your own arousal but shit— he loves you like this. pliant and pretty and all his. you’re basically begging for him to give you his soul, to pour it into your body and your bones until you’re twitching— his stamina was limitless after all, an endless pool of energy.

“oh? but i’m sure you can take more..” gojo’s words are a low drawl as he curls over your folded figure, making your muscles scream for some sort of relief but he still manages to give you more. he begins a pace that’s so deep, so animalistic that you feel like you could black out with the way the pleasure rips through you, making your body clap against his as his balls smack loudly against your ass and suddenly he’s even deeper.

“see, i knew it.” it’s smug despite the the trembling undercurrent to his tone, breaking under the weight of his own arousal as his voice takes an octave higher. but you’re doing so well for him, your eyes are rolled back— lips parted and you’re basically begging for him to go harder when he leans into press his lips against yours, pushing his name between your lips as your hands grab at him for any sort of relief.

“almost there, right?” gojo groans against you with the next quiver of your walls; the next particularly heavy thrust makes your thighs tremble and he’s so deep it almost hurts, making something spark and burn along your inside as he fucks you into the mattress like a wild animal.

you whimper, barely— it’s a desperately pathetic little sound, wound up tight and it makes him pull away to look at you, crystalline eyes cloudy with lust before his lips are stretching into a smirk.

“oh, more?” gojo’s head cocks to the side and you know you’re done for when his pace picks up, every heavy thrust is driven by the muscles in his body and your pussy squelches loudly with every wet connection of his hips.

“oh, i’ll give you more, baby. so greedy f’ me, hm?” despite his teasing, he’s babbling— sweat beading along his skin as the snowy peaks of his hair frame his flushed features and fuck, the pretty sight above you only makes you feel even better. you’re so high off his desperation, every muscle in your body screams under his but the nerves in your body cry even louder with how good you feel— with how much your body craves him.

“‘ts so tight, you milkin’ me, sweet girl? how many you want, huh? give you as many as you need. wanna see you swollen f’ me, you want that, mhm?” gojo’s barely coherent but his words only make you squeeze around him tighter— a silent little invitation as every thrust has you crying more, more, more! satoru, want your cum—please! punched out little gasps and cries as he digs the orgasm out of you.

“oh, you’ll look so pretty f’ me—f-fuck!” his huge body is looming over yours, pressing you into the mattress and the pillows beneath you. your thighs are flush against his abdomen and chest, and your lungs feel like they quake on every exhale as your lips part to moan. he presses himself into you— face nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he grazes his teeth along the skin there, headboard screeching loudly in time with every smack of his hips.

“‘toru, please please please—‘m g’nna,” you tremble as you shake beneath gojo, thighs tensing tight against his body and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you as he smirks against your skin. your orgasm hits you so suddenly, so hard and good that your toes curl where they hang over his shoulders, your body stiffening beneath him and the first milking compression of your pussy makes his pace stutter, hugs him so tight he can’t help but bite so hard into the sensitive skin of your neck he draws blood.

“should see h-how pretty you look like this. tell me ‘ts all mine, y’ gonna make me a daddy, yeah? g’nna fill you up so good. oh, this pussy’s made f’ me, ain’t it?”

his body trembles as he pulls back slightly to watch your cream pool around the base of his cock, your slick smeared along his skin and your walls still throb with every unforgiving push of his hips. your orgasm feels like it stretches on forever as you gasp out broken yeah, yours, love you so much ‘toru, waves rolling through your body with the heat you feel pour and sting along your nerves. it only takes a few more clapping thrusts and your choked confessions before hes kissing you, just as he likes as his lips curl into you.

gojo cums hard, thick and heavy inside of you when he feels your tongue push against his, swallowing both of your groans into the kiss as he pushes his load into your puffy cunt. you’re both so lost in bliss, so unaware of the electricity across your boyfriends skin and the uncomfortable pressure that seems to suddenly weigh down on your intertwined bodies.

the bedroom light flickers but you don’t notice, he’s slurring curses against your lips as he almost pins your thighs to your chest completely, the air between you seems tighter— atoms trembling in the finate space. but he’s continuing to fuck into your sensitive pussy with tiny little thrusts you don’t notice the creek of your furniture as it twitches out of place— like it’s being pulled towards you both. the small flickers of purple fizzle out when you’re both spent and he’s collapsing on top of you with a low, breathy chuckle, making you whine with the cramp you feel in your body.

“‘toru! you’re heavy.” you grumble, voice worn and scratchy but it doesn’t move gojo as he cuddles deeper into you, leaving sweet little kisses along your skin with obnoxious kissy noises— a stark contrast to how filthy he was being a second ago.

you’re both breathing deep as you give up trying to escape from underneath him, opting to press your fingers through his damp hair instead before he finally moves. he pulls back, enough for his cock to push his cum out of your pussy as he does, squelching and dripping into the mattress beneath you both as you jolt slightly. “careful, ‘ts messy, ‘toru.”

gojo whistles lowly before he looks at you again, one of your legs still haphazardly thrown over his shoulder before he’s placing a sweet kiss to your ankle, then following it up with a painfully languid, experimental thrust as his crystalline eyes focus on the mess he’s made of you.

“come on, sweet girl. you’re not nearly full enough f’ me yet.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you

[nyazazel]

I really can't help 8ut fall in love again every time I think I've gotten 8ack up.

May8e they're too much, or may8e I'm just not meant to feel.

#the flushed quadrant taunts me #it mocks me #my desire #my will #I love you #and for it the world laughs #for it i am driven 8ack

[hitomisuzuya]

HAISS JIII HII !!! Scara eating shy reader out and she keeps trying to muffle her moans or squeeze her legs shut but scara doesn't want that (he wants to hear her and he like spreads her legs)

also tongue perusing scara duh 🙏

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunnilingus. Scara with a tongue piercing 😳 Minor degradation.

You guys really like when I write Scara with a tongue piercing. I don't blame you. And thank you so much! 🥺

Scaramouche's hands caressed you hips, dipping his tongue between your folds to tease the ball of his tongue piercing on your clit. Jolts of pleasure tingled your spine, your teeth biting your lower lip as your clit swelled and throbbed from his ministrations.

As hard as he was from how good you tasted, there was something that irked him. You were swallowing your noises. He nudged his nose against your clit, licking a line down your cunt to plunge his tongue inside of you.

He made sure you felt every drag of his piercing along your sensitive walls. He wanted you to be loud for him. He needed you to scream and writhe, bucking your hips up into his mouth while he reduced you to sobbing mess.

Your back arched off the bed, your cheeks flushing as you struggled to hold back your moans. He batted your hand away tried to cover your mouth, glaring at you in warning. "Fucking moan for me," He commanded, sending a shiver up your spine.

Scaramouche vibrated a moan on your clit, "Scream for me, slut," He latched his lips around your clit. He sucked on it, scraping the ball of his piercing, drool pooling between your legs. He was driven with the intent to make you moan.

Your hands found the back of his head, pressing his mouth onto your cunt. You tugged on his hair, earning him an audible gasp of pleasure. You bucked your hips up into his mouth, writhing as you tried to close your legs around his head.

Scaramouche pried your legs apart, kitten licking his piercing on your clit before pushing his tongue back inside of you. Long, slow licks made your walls clamp tight, your fingernails digging into his scalp to ground yourself.

"More, more, more," You chanted, unable to contain your moans anymore. He moaned in bliss listening to you finally apart. He held your cunt against his mouth, his licks and sucks ravenous and encouraging you to cream on his tongue.

Scaramouche relished in every scream that tore from your throat when you squirted. There was nothing more satisfying to him.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #modern au

[itsswritten]

butterfly kisses

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 1.7K (honestly it's just a little drabble)

Warnings: 18+, implied smut, lots of fluff, mating frenzy

Summary: Azriel just can't get enough of your wings <3

If you want to read more from this universe - wings

Azriel wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky.

He had thanked the Mother every day since the bond snapped, and even more when you accepted it. When Mor had introduced you into his life only a couple of years ago, he never imagined this would be the outcome.

Azriel vividly remembered the first night he met you. It was another gathering at Rita’s, one of the many that had unfolded, now peace settled over the land. 

Mor with playful determination had pulled you over to their table, arm looped around yours– almost in a way that said she wasn’t going to let you escape. He had noticed the faint blush that creeped up your face to your pointed ears, merely from the proximity of your High Lord and Lady, and their inner circle. He recalled how you offered a shy little curtsy in their presence, that had led to the whole table stifling their laughter. Rhys kindly explained that such formalities were not necessary, especially not in Rita’s of all places. Azriel did his best to contain his mirth at the display, all the while chewing the inside of his cheek to stop the chuckle leaving his lips. He truly couldn’t get over how adorable you were, he'd found himself captivated by your endearing innocence. 

And that was only the start.

Mor explained how she’d met you in town one day and had essentially thrusted her friendship onto you, and it really didn’t take long for Azriel and his family to do the same. 

You were so sweet and caring, and slotted into Azriel’s life so easily that he found it hard to remember a time when you weren’t there at all. Your kindness towards the Archeron sisters, guiding them through the intricate transitions of fae life that they still at times struggled with. Nyx was absolutely enamoured with you, oftentimes seeking your company over his actual family. But they didn’t blame him, because they all did same. Your calm sweet nature was addictive to them all, especially Azriel.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Azriel found himself seeking every opportunity to unravel all your layers. He wanted to know everything about you. From your favourite foods, to the books that captured your attention.

His infatuation all made sense when the bond snapped. 

It was the last solstice.

Azriel had noticed how beautiful you were looking, as you always were. But you were clad in a breathtaking pale pink summer dress, the neckline delicately showcasing your décolletage. As you moved with a natural grace, the fabric billowed ever so slightly at the waist, accentuating your silhouette in a manner that held attention.

Or at least held Azriel’s attention. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

He watched you carefully navigate the chaos of the room. Nyx in one arm, giving Feyre some rest and reprieve in her pregnant state. Your other hand bringing in the cake Elain had spent all morning baking. Amidst the flurry of activity, you had been so close to dropping the cake. But Azriel's steady hand intervened just in time, grabbing the plate and taking it off you. Except in that moment your hands touched, grazed past one another in a way they had so many times before. 

But that time had been different.

It was Azriel’s turn to almost drop the cake. That all consuming warmth flooded his chest catching him off guard. A golden thread connecting itself to you. The mating bond. Finally.

And based on the bright red flush covering your cheeks, it was clear you’d felt it too. You’d fled the room then, overcome with emotion and what this new revelation meant. 

Though, it didn’t take long for Azriel to coax you round.

Ever the gentleman, he courted you. Taking you on the most thoughtful dates and spoiling you with bouquet after bouquet of flowers. He would leave little love notes and poetry for you to find. That it was really no surprise to anyone, when you decided to accept the bond.

That was only three weeks ago now.

Yourself and Azriel were deep in the mating frenzy. 

Rhys had kindly offered one of his private residences he had on the outskirts of Night. A smaller cottage, but with all the privacy you both needed. And Azriel had taken advantage of that privacy eliciting sounds from you that he would cherish forever and never tire hearing.

And then there were your wings. 

You had revealed them to him the first night after accepting the mating bond, and, Gods, was he done for.

Azriel had taken it upon himself, in the earlier months, to really vet you. His dedication to his role as Spymaster served as a guise for his self-indulgent exploration of you, delving into the intricate details of your being with a hunger that bordered on obsession. Not only had he discovered all the things you love, but he searched for details of who and what you were.

Finding himself holed up in the library at times, hours spent devoted to aquainiting himself to the type of fairy you were. 

He knew you had wings, was the type of fairy whose wings were the delicate kind. Most kept them concealed with magic. Yet, Azriel couldn't shake the thought that perhaps they were hidden not only for protection but also out of reverence for their breathtaking beauty. They were mesmerising. Enough to trap Azriel into some kind of trance. 

And perhaps possessively so, he was grateful not many males were privy to this part of you.

He was watching you now, laying on your front. Bare. Just how he’d left you when he took a moment to freshen up. You were giggling, your legs up and feet fluttering behind you while propped up over something.

“What are you doing, my love?” Azriel purred inquisitively, stepping closer towards the bed.

“Oh…Feyre was just checking in. Asking how much longer we might be,” he could hear you smile when you spoke, and watched as with the brush of your hand the magical parchment and ink disappeared that you’d been conversing with Feyre on.

“It’s not even been that long,”

“We’ve been gone three weeks–”

“And we’ll be gone 300 hundred more,”

You chuckled at his response, “Az, we do need to go back at some point. They need us.”

“I need you more.” There was no negotiating. Your family would be lucky to see you both before the next solstice at this rate.

Not that Azriel needed the frenzy to be satiated by you, but it truly was driving him. The primal need for you, overwhelming. The pair of you only stopped when you both fell into a slumber from exhaustion. And even then, there were many times you found each other in a sleep exhausted haze, tangled within and inside one another again.

The bed dipped either side of your legs, you were still on your front but could feel your mate over you. He had paused though, his eyes falling over your beautiful pink wings. The iridescent skin reflecting lights across the room. He had almost cried when he first saw them after you accepted the bond, mesmerised and overwhelmed by their beauty.

Getting to see this part of you, a part of you that was so private, stirred a gratefulness inside him. But there was something else too, a possessiveness that had slowly been creeping up his mind recently.

In the past three weeks, you had both done every possible maneuver, tried every kind of love making– fucking, screwing, mating. You’d even made him a crumbling wet mess just from playing with his wings. 

But he hadn’t touched yours.

No, they looked so delicate and soft, too beautiful to touch, that he hadn’t dared. 

You felt him situate himself behind you, his warm naked body lightly laying on you, his chest resting on your behind. His arms wormed their way under your hips to get comfy, and you splayed your wings flat against your back to fit him.

“Az?” you asked curiously, glancing slightly over at your shoulder to catch him in your peripheral.

He didn’t respond though, not with words. You felt his soft warm breath blowing on the membrane of your right wing, making your squirm under the touch. Your wing fluttering a little in the air.

“How sensitive are they? Too sensitive for me to touch?” You heard him behind you.

“Hm..” you tilted your head slightly to think, “They’re delicate, but you can touch them. Gently.”

You were waiting for him to wriggle his hand from out beneath you but instead you felt something warm and wet run against the bottom of your wing.

You couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping your lips at the soft touch. Azriel had taken it upon himself to use the tip of his tongue to explore this part of you, a part of you that was still very new to him. He felt you wriggle under him, and he shifted placing his full body weight on you so you couldn’t move.

His tongue traced the ridge of your wing, and he wasn’t letting up. Not when he’d made that sound from you. He wanted more of that. He moved and pressed his tongue flat against the delicate skin, evoking another moan from you.

“Does that feel good my little butterfly?” he purred, you could feel the smirk on his lips against your wing as he pressed a kiss on them.

You wanted to roll your eyes at his teasing, but it felt too good to do anything other than surrender to his touch.

“I want to hear your words,” he spoke a little more assertively this time, before swiping  his tongue along one of the tubular lines that spread like veins across your wings.

“Yes..” You huffed, before another moan slipped past your lips breathlessly. “It feels good Az…” You felt your body heat, your cheeks for sure rosy, grateful your mate could only hear not see the reaction he was having on you. 

He chuckled softly then, the vibrations from his lips skirting across your wings making them twitch.

“My sensitive little butterfly, ” the new nickname only made you squirm more, your core growing slick at his predatory attention.

Azriel moved his hand then, the one caught under your left hip, so effortlessly moving down to your core, cupping your wet slit as he licked the pink shiny membrane again. 

“Azriel…” you gasped, but his touch didn’t relent.

You knew this was only the start.

a/n: just some lovely little fluffy mating frenzyness! I just love these two, so I may expand a little more on the wings universe and their relationship if you guys would like to see that! Maybe some domestic bliss, or if there's any scenes you'd like me to write for them or parts of their story you're interested in then I'm happy to explore. Also this was written fairly quickly, so please ignore any typos, I only did a quick little check hehe - Lottie

p.s. also thanks to @thisiskaylin who inspired the nickname! She commented on the wings fic that butterfly would be the perfect nickname and I just had to use it <3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel series #azriel fluff #fluff #azriel smut #smut

[wildemaven]

Joel is someone who spends too much time in his own head— too many thoughts at all times. But especially when it’s his first time with you.

He likes you. A lot. There’s no denying how much so either, based purely on how much he enjoys spending time with you and how much Sarah likes you. he truly connects with you, deciding you both want to keeping exploring where things go.

Things progress slowly, a mutual worry about rushing to quickly before either of you is ready. Over the course of a few months, many dates have been shared. Each one solidifying the growing desire between the two of you. Making out in his truck, on the couch, tucked away from prying eyes in his laundry room after a summer barbecue.

His nerves are shot the night you both decide to take things further when Sarah is away at a friend’s place for the weekend.

Needing everything to be perfect— for you. Worrying how great he’ll even be since it’s been quite some time since he’s been with someone .

Expect it’s everything but perfect.

It’s awkwardness and concern. Even more so, Joel’s mind is riddled with anxiety about his performance.

Are you enjoying yourself? Do you feel okay? Is your body liking the things he’s doing? Does he still turn you on now that things have moved into this territory? Should he be doing those things that he’s seen in the porn he’s watched?

You sense the fear right away. A waterfall of apologies cascading from his mouth left and right. When he slips out of you mid thrust. When his nose knocks into your eye. When he mistakes your zealous whine for shrilled pain. When he feels like things are taking longer than they should.

He stills when you look up at him with a smile. Your hand coming up to caress his flushed cheek and he can’t help but smile back at you.

You tell him there’s no rush to finish and all the things you’re enjoying. That you’re more than happy to take your time and figure out what works and what doesn’t. You tell him that you like all of him and he doesn’t need to be anyone but himself.

He relaxes into your touch, grateful you’re not running out the door and hightailing out of the driveway, never wanting to see him again.

His kisses are driven with more confidence. His touch deliberate but sweet. Praise and guidance exclaimed with elated satisfaction. It’s perfectly imperfect.

The room is bathed in a sheen of moonlight. He tells you how beautiful you are. His favorite thing about you. The things he can’t stop thinking about when you’re apart. He tells you how he hasn’t felt this way about someone in a long time and he thinks he might be falling for you.

#Joel miller #joel miller imagine #implied smut #joel miller x reader #no outbreak!joel miller #pre outbreak!joel #pedro pascal #joel miller x you

[anantaru]

SWEET AND SOFT — WRIOTHESLEY

you know wriothesley won't let you get out of bed, he was insatiable and couldn't take his eyes off you. wc 700

・✶ ｡ warnings — lazy morning sex, clingy wriothesley, fem! reader

"‘m-more, just a little more," wriothesley whispers and offers you a suspiciously cheeky grin. although he was seemingly still fatigued due to the fact that he has just woken up, something else was quite persistent when creeping up on him, more so pestering his limbs and muscles until he's flushed, a pitch of lust pursuing his glazed eyes.

with pleasure, he continues and rests his head against the crook of your neck so he could lazily circle his arms across your waist from behind. the sudden bolt of electricity that crawled through your nervous system was enough to make you lean into his touch before you quiver into his strong grip, something hard and throbbing grazing against the plush of your ass as your slow breathing becomes a little faster.

"mhm, you're so insatiable baby," you giggle, delightfully as you feel his muscular body press against you when your boyfriend smears a couple wet kisses on the crook of your neck, the thrill of him being so content with your frame was igniting something deep within your chest.

as it was, your boyfriend really was insatiable, he's truly unbelievable! but so were you unarguably desiring of him touching you on all the saccharine coated places.

with a quick, single movement of his fingers curling into the waistband of your underwear, wriothesley drags the fabric down and leaves it draped around your knees before he does the same to his boxers, at last freeing his painful erection as he presses it in between the fat of your ass, feeling your silky flesh welcome him dearly.

he really cannot wait any longer— it's a given that he has to act now, because you turn him so utterly mindless with each and every moan slipping past your plump lips, breaking into a million pieces and when you begin to grind your ass back— oh well, he was done for.

wriothesley continues and wraps one hand across your upper chest as the other strokes his dripping cock up and down, slow and lustfully up and down, up and down while smearing the pre over his shaft.

his face was still nuzzled in your neck when he targets your skin, biting and suckling all over the flesh as you arch your back away from him only for your boyfriend to harshly press you against his chest again, parting your legs a little so he could slide himself in perfectly fine.

"there we go, that's better, don't you think, hm?" the duke sighs, dreamily as his voice shakes when you mould your walls around his thudding shaft, your crushing heaves and silent sobs driven by lust as he notices how your body was slightly struggling to take him, all of him— he's so big and the usual morning cold dies down when you quiver at his teeth mercilessly grazing along your skin as he rocks himself into the warm cradle of your walls.

the helpless clamp of your pussy was to die for, it feels like you pull him in with one single throb of your cunt until his entire length was buried in you, your silky walls battering your slick along his cock when he sinks himself deeper, your hole forcing him inside for more, more and milking him so sweetly, so perfect that it almost brings him to tears.

not to mention those sweet, little pleas of yours— they might be his utter favorite after all, and your boyfriend just needs to listen to them over and over until he can pump you full of his gift, with his erection rutting through the sore constriction of your hole so mercilessly that you're shaking, shoving your head back so hard that your back arches through his strong grip.

you just need him so bad that you feel hot crystallines pearl at your lashes— and the duke knows, he always did, never faltering nor losing the strong chains of thrusts he targets your sex with as he purrs deeply against your ear— that being the last puzzle piece that made you spiral into a hot daze.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

#genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #wriothesley x you #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles

[ickadori]

++ 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈, 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈, 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

[cws] reader is gn except for in toji’s -> reader has breasts/vagina. tojis’ is also a bit ‘spicy’ but no smut. unedited. short little blurbs for each character.

𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 gets lost in your kisses. It’s one of his favorite pastimes — tugging you down into his lap when the two of you are by yourself and giving you that dopey smile, a low drawl of ‘can I have a kiss?’ leaving his mouth, and you never hesitate before you’re dipping your head down and fulfilling his request.

His hands start off on your hips, gently kneading them above your clothes, lightly trailing up and down your sides as the kiss is in the chaste stage; close-mouthed, eyes just barely shut, and soft sighs being breathed out every now and then.

Yuji loves these soft, sweet kisses, it reminds him that in a world full of vile curses driven by killing and maiming, he’s got someone as sweet as you to come back to and make him feel better about the world, let him know that this is why he risks his life everyday, to keep you safe and sweet and ignorant to the horrors lurking in the shadows.

As much as he loves these kisses, they don’t last long before his tongue is breaching past your lips to rub against your own, eyes fluttering shut as his hands become more bold. They slip around to grab fistfuls of your ass, calloused fingers sinking into the flesh as he drags you further up his lap, until you’re seated right on top of the lump in his sweats and he’s swallowing down your moans.

“Yu-ji,” you’re always the first to pull away, eyes glossy and lips swollen as you take in haggard breaths, and Yuji likes to take that time to watch you; take in all your painfully pretty features and commit it to memory so he can recall it clearly at a later time, when he’s missing you terribly and there’s an empty feeling in his chest, which always happens the moment he steps foot outside your apartment.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 loves your kisses most after work, when he’s back in his safe haven, the outside world immediately forgotten once he crosses the threshold of your shared apartment. He chuckles to himself when he hears your feet padding across the floor just as he’s put his key in the door, and your face is the first thing he sees when it opens.

You always hug him first, arms winding around his waist as he feels you smile into his chest, and he feels you sag against him, relieved that he’s made it home another day.

“I’m so glad you’re home.” And he’s glad to be home - it shows in his eyes, every emotion in them bared for you to see, shows in his shoulders, no longer stiff and tense, shows in his hands, how they move to cradle your face and tilt your head up so he can get a proper look at you. “You look tired, Kento.”

He is, utterly exhausted, but never too exhausted to indulge himself in you at the end of each day. “And you look beautiful.” You grow bashful at the comment, and a soft smile settles on his face as he dips his head down, eyes lidded and heavy as he parts his lips.

You meet him halfway, hands moving to twist into the material of his shirt as your lips meet, and he revels in your sharp intake of breath when he licks into your mouth, tongue brushing against the roof of your mouth.

He always tries to get as close to you as he can, one arm hooking around your waist to pull you flush against him, while his free hand cradles the back of your head, lips moving in tandem.

When he’s got you in his arms, it’s as if he’s stolen his very own slice of paradise, and he doesn’t ever plan on letting it go.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 likes to make you think your kisses aren’t wanted, that you’re more desperate for him than he is for you, despite the both of you being very much aware that it’s the other way around, but Toji loves a little game every now and then.

He’s lounged out on your sofa, legs spread and arms stretched along the back of it, and his eyes are trained on the television, completely ignoring (trying to, anyways), the way you press yourself into his side, face turned up in a pout as your fingers dance along his chest.

“I thought you came here to see me, Toji, not some dumb movie.” You huff, and then you’re climbing into his lap, lips pursed and eyes narrowed as you straddle him.

“I came here to stick my dick in you, and I did, now I’m relaxing.” He sighs out, his head tipping back as the corner his mouth quirks up in a smirk. “Won’t you stop pestering me.”

“Mm-mm,” you give a shake of your head, tracing over the superficial scratches lining his shoulders, courtesy of none other than you. “I want a kiss.”

“Your shitty neighbors’ been wanting to fuck you since you moved in, get one from him.”

“I want one from you, Toji. Give me one.” Your fingers slip up into his hair, toying with the black strands just at the nape of his neck. He gives a heavy sigh, a low chuckle sounding when you give him an annoyed expression.

“Take it then, since you’re so desperate.”

“Says the one who practically begged me to leave work early because they were so desperate to fuc—” His lips crash against yours, hands flying to your waist as the kiss starts off rough, sloppy and desperate. It’s a mess of tongue, teeth and spit, your hands pulling at his as his slip underneath the thin cami you wear to grope at your chest.

Your hips grind down into his lap, clothed cunt running over his bulge, and he grunts when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip, soothing the resulting sting with a swipe of your tongue. You pull away, and he moves his face to the crook of your neck, lips leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses there.

“I only asked for one kiss, y’know.” You sound breathless, hips steadily rocking into his. “You might wanna stop now, before I start thinking you actually like me.” He grins against your skin, fingers blindly moving to the seat of your shorts and roughly tugging it to the side, his other freeing himself from his pants.

“It’s a bit too late for that now, isn’t it?”

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎’𝐒 kisses are never ending. No matter where you two are or what you’re doing, his lips will always find themselves on some part of your body.

He can’t help it, or rather he doesn’t try to. He’s gotten everything he’s ever wanted since he was a child, and he doesn’t care to change that now in his adult years. He wants you, so he’ll have you, whenever the need strikes him, which seems to be whenever you’re around.

“You have to go, Satoru.” You chide as you turn your head to avoid his kiss, a petulant pout gracing his face when his lips meet your cheek instead. “Your phone has been ringing nonstop.”

“‘S not important—really, it isn’t.” His nose pushes into your cheek, lips peppering kisses along your jawline. “Not like you, anyways.”

“People could die, Satoru.”

“I could die.” A dramatization to some, but entirely serious for him. “I could have a heart attack from withdrawals or something, baby. I’m addicted.” He presses a loud, wet kiss to the corner of your mouth, and you can’t help the giggle that slips out, your hands moving to push at his chest as he steadily tries to lay you back against the couch. “And addicts aren’t supposed to quit cold turkey, you have to wean ‘em off, y’know.”

“You’re so annoying.” Your back meets the cushions as he hovers over you, strands of white hanging down and tickling the sides of your face. “Just one kiss, okay? And then you have to go right after.” He smiles, tongue swiping out to wet his lips.

“Yeah yeah, just one…thousand.”

“I heard that!”

#jjk x reader #yuji x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[pandoraslxna]

❄️ Kinkmas — 05. On a mount ❄️

So‘lek x female human reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: they do it on a pali (direhorse), smut, p in v, dub-con, kidnapping, held hostage, enemies to lovers, size kink, cockwarming, ooc So‘lek because I wrote this before the game came out, it plays before he joined the resistance, language barrier

⋆｡° ✮ Translation: tawtute = human, sky person

In the realm of forbidden desires, where the line between right and wrong blurs, a seductive sin had woven her enchanting web and So’lek had found himself caught in your irresistible embrace.

The forbidden fruit dangled before him, tempting him with her intoxicating flavors. He didn’t know what had driven him to this act, but he felt a heady mix of excitement, curiosity, and temptation, uncaring of the consequences that laid ahead as he took this very specific tawtute with him.

So‘lek had never taken a hostage in all of his years of living. In all of his years of seeking revenge. The clicking of metal against metal around his neck was the cold, dead evidence of this.

But this tawtute… there was just something about you that was different. Something that made his blood stir and his nerves tingle like a live wire.

The demon whrites in his lap and So‘lek makes a soothing noise, hushed into your round little ear while the hands on your fragile hips tighten, keeping you from falling off where you’re seated.

"Hìpey [hold still]", he warns, but his tone remains calm and composed.

Every bounce of the palis hooves meeting the hard ground beneath pushes you further down on his cock and you mewl, muffled cries and moans against the cloth covering your mouth under your mask. Originally he had tied it there to keep you from screaming, had bound your wrists behind your back to keep you from trashing around. But now it’s to keep you still, to make it easier for himself to use your small, tight body for his own pleasure.

But by the way you clench around his length, he doubt that you doesn’t enjoy this just as much as he does.

So‘lek can feel your slick running down his shaft where he’s not fully seated inside you, your human body too small to take all of him at once. But the gallop of his pali did help ease the way further into you, without having to do much movement of his own.

"Nìsyep sìltsan, vrrtep [so good and tight, little demon]", he groans lowly, so close to your ear he felt the heat radiating off your skin. The flush that spreads over your cheeks makes you feel all tingly. You don’t know what exactly he’s saying to you, but the deep raspy voice hushing these foreign words into your ear is enough to make you understand his intentions.

A particularly hard shove of the pali as it galloped over thick branches made your clit brush over the leathery sattle and you cried out in bliss, the whiny sound muffled and helpless.

One of So’lek‘s arms pulled you closer against him at this, so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder and watch his own hands dip between your thighs. Rough fingers slide through your folds and around his own cock where he’s halfway nestled inside you, smearing your arousal back and forth, before he locates your clit.

"Nìtxan mei [you‘re so wet]", he says, "ayngenga asim? [are you close?]"

There comes no response, but he doesn’t need one anyways. Your squirming and the clenching around his length is all he needs as confirmation, so he begins to circle that little bundle of nerves that makes your breathing pick up rapidly.

So‘lek wishes he could understand the few words you actually manage to force out through the woven cloth covering your mouth, the ones that sound like pleas and begs for him, possibly. You just sound so sweet as you fall apart on his cock, it makes him wonder how tasting such a forbidden fruit, a little demon like you, could feel so heavenly.

Rocking with the gentle sway of his palis movement, So‘lek relishes in the pulsing of your walls around him, the wet, rhythmic throbbing and squeezing that massages his cock like you intend to milk him for all his worth. But while you fall slack in his arms with a shuddering gasp, he decides to keep his composure for a while longer, just for the favor of staying like this. At least, until he arrives back at his tent, where he can properly burry himself inside you.

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #so‘lek #avatar frontiers of pandora #Avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar the way of water #solek #so‘lek x female reader #so‘lek x reader #Avatar 3 #so‘lek x human reader #so‘lek x female human reader #Avatar so‘lek #avatar fop #Neteyam #Jake sully

[tofuxtea]

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘 | 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙩 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠 + 𝙙𝙧𝙮 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — monkey d. luffy x fem!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, spit kink, dry humping, hair pulling, making, a very messy makeout session, like very very messy, whiny luffy, grinding turns into dry humping, cumming in pants, praise, “baby” used

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — 957 words. i heard the headcanon that luffy has a spit kink/is messy as hell when it comes to kissing and sex and i RAN with it. also i cannot lie, personally i had poisoned!luffy (post timeskip) from the anime but w curly hair in mind for this one! [kinktober m.list]

it was no secret that luffy was a messy eater.

anyone who’s shared a dinner table with him knew that, initially stunned by his sheer lack of manners when presented with a full plate of food. and when he set his clean plate down seconds later, patting his belly and wiping scraps from the corners of his mouth, they would likely believe that was the extent of it.

you could hardly call yourself fortunate enough to know that what they saw at the table was, in fact, the least of his messiness.

while you were never particularly fond of sloppy, wet makeouts before, somehow luffy ended up changing your mind. every time you would find yourself straddling his lap, languidly rolling your clothed hips against his growing bulge while he kissed you, he’d never fail to make a mess of your mouth.

“mmph, luffy,” you’d pant against his lips when you’d pull up for air, raising your thumb to your chin to wipe away his spit. luffy would only flash you a cheeky smile, his eyes glazing over at the sight.

“sorry, y’know i can’t help it,” his voice was barely above a whisper, half heartedly apologizing before capturing you into another slobbery kiss. you moaned into luffy’s mouth, helpless against his assault. his hands steadily rocked your hips against his, softly groaning at the friction your clothed heat granted him.

your fingers combed through his wild dark curls, gently tugging on them whenever you’d feel him rut up into you. this would only elicit more whines from him and his hold on your hips intensified.

“need you, baby,” luffy whimpered, his head lulling back to catch your gaze. his eyelids hung low as he scanned your flushed face, his swollen, glossy lips parting with another mewl. “please, baby, need to feel you.” he was hardly coherent, desperately rutting up into your clothed cunt.

you could feel how hard he was through his shorts each time he would rub against your thin panties and the more he did so, the more you wanted him, too. you wanted to feel his cock inside of you, filling you to the brim with each stroke.

but luffy wouldn’t let you go. his fingers clamped bruises into your sides, practically cementing you in his lap while his lips ravished yours. he pushed into you with eagerness and lust-driven fervor, keeping you from going up for air.

“luffy,” you barely managed to say during the fraction of a second that you had gotten away, your chest heaving as you sought fresh air. but your break didn’t last long, luffy very quickly cutting your air supply off when his messy kisses persisted.

this time, luffy’s arms wrapped around your waist to flip you onto your back, his body hovering over you a moment later. he caged you down onto the bed, and his kisses seemed to deepen from the new angle. he slotted himself between your legs and dropped nearly all of his weight onto you as he ground his clothed cock against your pussy.

your body writhed underneath him and you gasped when he’d dragged so perfectly over your sensitive clit, and luffy took your moment of weakness to slip his tongue into your mouth. you grasped onto his arms as you let yourself melt into the kiss, your legs wrapping around luffy’s waist.

luffy pulled away to get some air, eyeing the string of spit that connected your mouths with a soft groan. “ya sound so pretty f’me.” his voice was barely above a whisper in your ear before he planted a kiss to the curve of your jaw. you audibly whined — a long, dragged out cry — at the praise and your head dug back into the comforter to allow him more access to your throat.

he remained stuck on that one spot, sucking a deep purple bruise into your skin. his tongue ran over the now sensitive mark before he shifted down, leaving a path of them in his wake down to the soft dip between your collarbones.

your hands had found their way back into his disheveled hair, instinctively pulling every time he’d retrace his work with his warm tongue. “fuck, luffy,” you cried out when his thrusts had noticeably increased in pace.

his bulge, heavy in his shorts, dragged so fucking deliciously against your heat, you felt that familiar coil begin to tighten in your lower stomach. your ankles locked across luffy’s back, telling him not to stop. it wasn’t like he was planning to.

he continued to litter your neck with sloppy kisses and licks, your sweet cries and moans encouraging him. “ya feel so good, baby,” he murmured through low groans, feeling his own high approaching quickly.

“gods, luffy,” all you could chant was your captain’s name and tears pricked at your eyes as you came, hard and fast. it crashed into your body like a brick wall, and luffy’s relentless pace only heightened it. your lips parted as a string of cries and curses flew past them, all of which bubbled down to a cry of luffy’s name.

this spurred the young captain on and he groaned against your skin when his orgasm finally hit him, unloading in his shorts with a soft whine of your name. his thrusts steadily slowed to a stop, the dragged out friction gently overstimulating you both until luffy managed to tear himself away from you.

“‘m sorry, baby.” luffy breathlessly apologized as he admired his work — your neck glistening with your sweat and his spit, covered in deep hickies that were sure to worsen by morning, and your lips reddened and swollen and glossy with spit. he flashed you a smile and pecked your lips. “you just feel so good, i couldn’t help myself.”

shorter than the rest and not proofread AND booty dookie ending BUT IDC this image of luffy will forever be ingrained into my mind.

#kinktober #one piece kinktober #one piece #one piece smut #one piece luffy #luffy smut #opla luffy #opla luffy smut #opla #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #monkey d. luffy smut #luffy #monkey d luffy smut #op luffy

[pseudowho]

Hanahaki

Nanami art by Osusiudon, picture edit by @pseudowho

Being in love with you was meant to feel good...so why was it killing Nanami Kento?

For more on the (purely fictional) Hanahaki Disease, please see here: https://fanlore.org/wiki/Hanahaki_Disease

I've altered things *just a little* to suit the story

Warnings: 18+, gore, smut, MDNI, unrequited love, angst, longing, hurt/comfort, cum as cure, TW anxiety, depression and low self-esteem

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"You've got to tell her. Nanami. You've got to tell--"

"--and burden her with this? No. It's inexcusable. This is...this is mine to bear."

Shoko stabbed her cigarette out with considerable force, driven almost to tears by this--

"--impossible man, Nanami Kento. You have options. We can fix this surgically, it won't be easy, but it will get rid of--"

"--my feelings for her," Kento interrupted, his voice brackish with pain, twisting in his lungs, all gnarls and knots and need. He felt the pain beginning to crescendo, doubled over on Shoko's surgery couch. If he groaned, he knew he would be choked in blossoms and blood. A fine mist of sweat collected on Kento's forehead, one arm wrapped around his belly as his lungs began to fill and burn.

Shoko was already lighting another cigarette, hands trembling, and snipped at Kento; "And what of it? She doesn't love you back, that's why you're in this mess."

Hearing the truth aloud was too much to bear, and Kento writhed, one strong hand gripping his throat as he coughed, choking, lungs and throat so full and packed and itching and--

--in one burning gasp, a congealed spatter of cherry blossom leaves and clotting blood left Kento's mouth at force, slapping into the surgery couch and dripping, viscous and sloppy, to the floor. Kento staggered, one knee collapsing, clinging to the couch as he retched and coughed, bent in miserable agony.

Shoko dragged on her cigarette, her back to Nanami, voice tight as she spoke; "So...you mean to die like this, then?"

Head swimming with blinding pain, feeling his lungs begin to fill again, Kento closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to the couch.

All he saw was you. Your smile, effervescent with joy. Your small touches to his arms, all just tactile innocence. Your laughter, ringing down corridors as the students lolloped out of your classroom. He thought of you and all you were and all you could be, with or without him.

Kento smiled, a bloody kiss at the corner of his lips.

"There are worse ways to die."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento wasn't sure what was worse; the excruciating pain rooted in his chest, spreading longer and deeper through his torso with each passing day...or the certain knowledge that you were in love with someone else.

It was inevitable, of course; he was exciting, extroverted; Kento was dour and introspective. He was powerful, the strongest; Kento may never surpass 1st Grade, let alone achieve a domain. He would fawn, simper, flatter; Kento loved quietly.

Kento was tense in the staffroom, the petals building in his lungs so much faster when you were near. He needed to leave, needing to hide this from you, but he was twisted with the exquisite double-edged sword of the need to hear your laughter and the need to escape.

Satoru bent over beside you, whispering in your ear as you giggled, slapping him on the arm. Kento felt a nasty, burning envy as your eyes twinkled up at Gojo. He had not realised his eyes had strayed from his newspaper until you looked behind yourself, your cheeks flushing faintly as you felt Kento's gaze on you, of course I'm interrupting a private moment, idiot Kento you fucking idiot--

"Ken--...Nanami, are you alright? You look...pale." The genuine concern in your voice, the kindness you treated Kento with even though he was an insufferable bore, far too morose for pleasant company, made Kento stiffen, his chin jutted outwards.

Satoru looked disappointed as you turned from him, heading over to Kento, reaching out to put a hand to his forehead and shit, I'm done for if she lays a finger on me--

Kento flicked a hand upwards, batting you away as you reached for him, shoulders bunched with the urgency that you should never know about this, it's not her fault, she deserves to be happy--

"I am fine. I'm a grown man, I'd prefer not to be coddled." Kento felt his vision blacken at the edges with the need to cough, chest clawing, drowning, and he stood to the tune of your feet stepping quickly backwards, stumbling against the coffee table and I can't catch her because then I'd have to touch her hold her look at her and I'll die she'll never be mine god I want her to be mine I want her--

Satoru stepped behind you, long pale hands on your shoulders, stabilising you and shooting a scolding look at Kento's fast retreating shoulders. Your eyes were downcast, lips curled in and pressed together, hands clasped and twisting.

"Don't worry about it," Kento heard Satoru reassure you as he stepped out of the staffroom, "he's always been pretty standoffish, you did nothing wrong."

Kento made it to the end of the corridor before wrenching open a window, leaning out, coughing bursts of blood-spray-blossom. He blacked out for a moment as he leaned against the frame, scarlet and petals at the side of his mouth.

She doesn't deserve this she doesn't deserve any of this why are you like this why are you so fucking unlikeable Nanami you piece of--

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento wasn't sure when it started...this obsession. It wasn't like him, to become so hyperfixated.

Was it when you started teaching at the school? You had baked, keen to make a good first impression. You had taken particular notice of Kento, your keen eyes astute and reading him, laughing such genuine laughter, the. laughing harder at the surprise on Kento's face that you found his sardonic fatalism funny, but nobody finds that funny--

Was it the love, the protection, the fierce defending shield you offered the children? It was beautiful. Kento saw your rage and your sickened rants at the diseased establishment and god I could listen to her all day she's wonderful what a mind what passion she needs someone with the authority to make her vision bloom not some low-ranked cannon fodder destined to die in battle--

Was it when he and you fought together for the first time? It was so easy. You were smart, there was no ego, no competition, so seamless together and suddenly the work felt so light instead of the fucking drudgery I normally go through and we've even got time for me to take her out for dinner maybe I should ask her out to dinner maybe she'll say yes but it's too soon and she's just being friendly and she'd feel so obliged she deserves so much better she's a hidden gem I can't be the only one to have noticed--

Kento wasn't, of course. He just wished it wasn't Gojo, of all people, to have taken notice. As much as I can't stand the guy I know he wants life to be better for the kids too so of course you'd appreciate him and he's sweet with the kids too and no woman has ever said no to him and I lost my chance I should have asked her out when I had the chance I should have asked you fucking coward Nanami you jealous little bitch--

Satoru made short work of occupying your lunch breaks. He was effusive, open in his adoration. Not shy in declaring his enthusiasm for you. Kento saw you trying to battle an enormous bouquet into your car, and you caught his eye, blushing at having been caught, looking so awkward. You had laughed, eyes downcast again as Kento offered you a gentle smile. You shrugged at Kento, unsure what to say.

"I should tell him, don't you think?"

Kento felt his heart sink at your admission, it's only natural she should confess to Satoru when he's welcomed her in with open arms he's made himself pretty clear it makes it easier for her in fact and god I'd just be happy if she's happy really I just wish it was me instead and--

"Yes," Kento said, tight and clipped, missing the way your shoulders dropped in resignation, "it's best to be honest about these things. I find it's less stress on everyone if nobody misreads the situation."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat; "Yeah. We wouldn't...wouldn't want that." Your hand hovered over your door as Kento turned his back on you and what we could have had and that's dead and buried now so just walk away and you can get over it Nanami it's not like you deserved that anyway--

"Have...have a good evening, Ke--...Nanami. Stay safe."

You too stay safe I love you I love you and I swear to god if he ever hurts you I'll rend him limb from limb I'll make him wish he'd never been bor--

"Good evening."

Walking away had gutted Kento alive.

First came the blood. Then came the petals.

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Kento could not make his mission, the day after the staffroom. He could barely make it out of bed, waking, again, to petals and blood, rust-red and congealed all over his pillows. He changed the sheets again, gasping for air, passing out for a moment upon the mattress, with one hand in each corner of the sheets, exhausted.

This lovesickness, this diabolical sweet agony...was the best death Kento could possibly hope for. Sat on the shower floor, naked, chest heaving as the water tumbled over him, Kento scraped pink crumpled petals from the blocked shower drain as the water began to build up around him.

Lying on the sofa, in just his boxers, Kento shivered in pain. He could barely towel himself dry, and he knew he must stay this way, now, too weak to make it back to his room for clothes. Is today the day? Will they find me today? If I die god I haven't seen her I need to see her before I die even if she doesn't know I'd like to hear her laugh just one more--

The doorbell rang. Kento huffed, coughing a horrible clumped mess of petals and blood into an awaiting bowl. His breath caught, no oxygen making its way to his limbs and he folded like wet cardboard onto the sofa, gasping, fingers clawing at his chest.

A timid knock. A voice. The gentle swing of a hinge.

"Kento? I'm coming in. Ijichi gave me your spare-- oh my god-- Kento-- shit, I'm calling an ambulan--"

Kento reached towards the door as you ran to him, fuck Ijichi you had absolutely no right idiot now she knows she fucking knows--

Kento burned as you knelt by him, hands splayed across his chest, his back, eyes feverish as you stared at him. Stared at the bowl full of blood and--

"...blossom? Kento, is this-- what's happening to you? God, you need Shoko...Kento? Stay with me please, I can't lose you--"

"--it's none of your damn business, get your hands off me!"

Kento had snarled at you, face and hands contorted, clearly in agony. Your face crumpled, biting back a retort, keeping yourself calm despite the venom and gore spitting from him. You took a single deep breath, in...out.

"It is my business. I know you hate me. I know you can't stand me being near you, and I don't feel that way about you-- quite the opposite-- but it is my business when I find you dying alone at home, so if you can stop being such a stubborn prick for just five minutes, I can get you into the car and get you some help."

Kento was near tears, cornered, a feral, wounded animal. Hate you I don't hate you I just can't have your hands on me like this when it's all I'd ever get and I want to hold you day and night and--

"Fuck, you have no idea," Kento groaned, sniffing into his forearm, forehead pressed to the sofa. You blinked down at him once, then, face fixed firmly, you slung his arm over your shoulders, heaving him up.

"Nope. Probably not. But why would I? You don't tell me anything. And why should you?" You snipped, and Kento lurched against you, who somehow held him up against you despite his weight.

"Move. Now. I've got blankets in the car."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento lay alone, in his hospital bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. The gentle hiss of oxygen from his mask kept him company.

You had asked him in the car, so many times, who his unrequited love was. He was steadfast in his silent refusal. You had read of this sordid disease, but never seen it in person. And on Nanami Kento, of all people, any woman loved by him would surely leap at the chance, I mean I would, if only he didn't fucking hate me, I'm not good enough for him anyway--

"Who is it, Shoko?" You whispered, holding yourself by the elbows as you leaned against an examination table. Watching Kento fade away before you through the little window, filled you with a thousand slivers of ice. His visceral dislike for you, his urgent need to push you away...no. You could not allow yourself to love him as you might have done.

Shoko frowned at you, trying to read you. She looked through the window, too, tapping her fingers on a clipboard in thought.

"You have no idea, do you?" Shoko mused aloud, soft, almost wistful.

You felt bile rise in your throat; "I don't need that from you, too, that's what he said. You don't have to treat me like I'm some fucking idiot--"

"You."

You faltered, your hand slipping off the examination couch you leaned back against. You looked up at Shoko, jaw dropped.

"...I--I'm sorry, what did you--"

"--you. It's you. He loves you."

You burst out laughing, a single harsh sound.

"Shoko. He can't stand me. Any time I'm near him, he just--"

"He just what? He clams up? Shuts you out? Doesn't let himself get any closer?" You nodded slowly at Shoko, still dumbfounded.

Shoko continued; "Nanami isn't the kind of guy to put himself first. Especially now he knows how Gojo feels about y--"

"Gojo?" You cried, fingers pressed to your temples, trying to hold back tears, "All this time I've thought I'm not good enough for Nanami-fucking-Kento, and he's held himself back because he thinks I want Gojo?"

Shoko paused, halfway to lighting her cigarette, drooping as her mouth dropped open. She looked to Kento, and back at you. Shoko pushed the cigarette back into its packet, tapping the box briskly on the table.

"You've got one chance to tell him," she snipped, "before I knock him out and take him for surgery."

Shoko moved to step out of the room, as you felt hope squirm in your belly. She gripped the doorframe as she moved to step out, white knuckled, not looking back at you.

"It won't go away until--...well. You do have to love him. Biblically."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You would wait until you had dropped him into bed, you thought, hands tense on the steering wheel. You were lying to yourself, you knew, your admission ready to burst out of you in furious blooms.

Kento was silent beside you, coughing occasionally into a handkerchief, less and less stained with blood and blossoms now. He was ashamed of himself for looking so pathetic and at least I can just die at home in peace now.

It took everything you had to keep your eyes ahead, instead of on him, still dressed in nothing but boxers and a blanket. You swallowed thickly.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Terse, cold. You felt irritation bubble in your chest.

"Stop lying, Kento." He tensed beside you, at his name on your lips, so sweet, I could listen to it all night, I wonder what she'd sound like when she's calling it out around me--

Huffing, he turned to look out the window, "A little better. It's none of your concer--"

"I love you." Kento felt himself shoot through with warmth. The cloying petals in his chest began to shrivel. He was speechless, dark-circled eyes wide as he turned to stare at you. Your hands trembled, turning into the driveway, pulling the handbrake, switching off the engine.

"I always have. From the moment I met you, I knew. But you knew better apparently and you pushed me away and now you're so sick and I--I--"

You sniffled once, steeling yourself before stepping out of the car and round to Kento's door, opening it. You reached in, arms round Kento's chest and heaving him up, amazed at how strong you could be for him when he needed you. Kento did not fight. He remained placid, mussed, still smelling bed-soft and coppery as you moved him towards his door, unlocking it and taking him inside.

Kento had never felt so stupid. So ashamed. So unworthy. He had done this to himself, and for what? He replayed months and months of him and you, flashing like reels through his mind's eye, reframing all of your interactions, your discomfort with Gojo's advances, your pain at Kento's biting distance, you fucking idiot Kento this is all your fault like all the people you lose are your own fucking fault--

Kento felt himself dropped into bed, with no memory of the journey from doorway to bedroom. He looked up at you, truly looking at you for the first time in months, drinking in the soft acceptance in your eyes, how his pain mirrored in yours exactly.

You blinked first, a few tears slipping out as you stepped away, opening Kento's wardrobe and pulling out a shirt. Kento gulped, turning his head on the pillow as you began to undress.

"--don't do this just for me, you shouldn't feel obliged to stay--"

"Shut up. Idiot. You stupid, stupid man. I'm livid at you and I can do what I want, and you should shut up and do as you're told for once."

You could have insulted Kento until the moon waxed and waned a dozen times, and it would still have felt like falling into a bed of feathers, hearing nothing but I love you, Kento I love you, I always did, I love you Kento--

Kento's breath caught in his chest, still painful, but somehow easing, as he felt your weight settle into bed next to him. He tensed again, frozen to your warmth, for having held you at arms length for so long. You rolled, switching the lamp off. You faced him, in the dark. You could hear only the light rattling of his chest.

"Just let me stay. I...need to keep you safe. Even if I just watch you sleep."

Kento's face crumpled, teeth bared and gritted as he pulled a hand over his eyes. Gratefulness and relief stole away his voice. Quiet, nestled together in the dark, you heard the gentle susurrus of a hand sliding across the sheets. You jumped to feel the back of Kento's fingers brush across your belly, graze over your chest and down your arm, until your hand was plaited with his.

"Do you...do you mean it?" You pressed your eyes closed, so fragile from the weight of the day's admissions and revelations. Biting your lips with tears on your lash line, you nodded, Kento squeezing your hand, focused on your silhouette.

You remembered meeting Kento for the first time, the beautiful rush of gold in your vision, as you panned past his introversion and discovered treasure. You remembered reading his every move, the uncertainty of each other, the timid dance. You saw the questions in his eyes, never asked. You remembered his seeping coldness after the force of Gojo's overbearing affection. You remembered the distance, the sniping hatred-- only, it wasn't. It wasn't ever hatred. Just grief. Loneliness. Worthlessness.

Kento could only hold back his wretched coughing for so long, and you watched in horror as he forced himself onto all fours, back and chest rippling in agony as a burst of blossoms sputtered past his lips...only, less bloody now. Almost as if he was getting better but not quite--

Shoko's words came back to you, a ghost; "...you do have to love him. Biblically." You felt yourself shiver from shoulders to toes as you thought of Kento this way, taking you. All those nights, where you had tried to think of anyone but him, biting into the pillow as you fingers slid, wet and practiced, over your aching little bud. Only, for his voice, thoughts of him inside you, rooting through you, taking you over the edge into sweet oblivion...every time.

Loving him had become so involuntary, you thought, as he slumped into your arms, blond hair splayed across pink blossoms in the moonlight, exhausted. Despite his suffering, he looked ethereal like this, arm splayed above his downy soft hair, eyes feverish in the gloom. You felt this obsession grow, no longer pruned and restrained, now that you felt his urgent need for you.

Quaking, you lay yourself beside Kento, drawing your leg over him so your soft inner thigh rested on his groin. You felt him twitch, a little closeness only making his pain worse, the full weight of a fertile Spring wracking his lungs. Your fingertips grazed over his belly, and you felt him shudder beneath you.

"What--" Kento rasped, swallowing back the thick taste of blood, "...what are you...?" He stopped as you shushed him gently, one hand rested on his thick chest as you nosed the side of his neck, the shell of his ear.

"Let me help you." You felt Kento tremble beneath you, his hand coming up to clasp your thigh tighter over his groin. Kento overrode his desperation, shaking his head with a gulp, feeling pathetic and weak and she deserves so much better and--

"Not like this," he choked out, his chest heavy and cloying, "you deserve--"

"We've already wasted so much time, convinced we weren't good enough for each other. I deserve a life with you. And we can't do that if you're dead."

Kento broke, lost in the ecstasy of your soft kisses against his jaw, tongue flicking out to taste the soft sweat tang of him. Your fingers rose up to cup his face, turning him to you. The total certainty in your eyes as you leaned in to press your lips to his, made the air hit Kento's lungs with such blissful relief.

Kento felt bursts of strength with every scrap of love you gave him, enough to tangle his fingers into your hair, and swipe his tongue into your open mouth. Your little squeak of surprise ran through his belly, hot and needy, his cock throbbing in his boxers. Kento kissed you, hungry for relief, needing escalation as the petals began to clog his lungs again.

"Please, touch me," he begged, shameless in his wish to live, "--hurts--please..." Feeling his teeth nip into your lip, pushy and desperate, you allowed Kento to grasp your hand and trail it down over the honey-blond trail of hair on his belly, to cup over his rigid cock. He groaned with relief as you cupped his length, squeezing him until a drop of pre-cum seeped through the front of his boxers.

"--more, I-- I need more--" Kento twisted under your hand, squirming and prickling with the itching joy of your tongue tracing his ear, whispering soft reassurances as he moaned, bucking up into your hand, masturbating him through the fabric of his boxers.

You were mesmerised, obsessed with the effect you had on him. Your pussy throbbed, neglected, edging yourself by pleasuring Kento instead. You found yourself squeezing his cock harder, hungry for his panting breaths, his furrowed brow, the way his fingers clawed at you for release.

Climbing above him on the bed, straddling his hips, you slipped his boxers down and reached into his bedside drawer. His cock, heavy, thick, wet with pre-cum, settled on his belly, twitching as you released him. Your hand settled on a bottle of lube, filling your hand with this white, sticky, cum-like fluid, warming it on your palm.

Kento huffed, chest heaving again as he coughed, a spray of blossom landing on his chest and belly, sticking to the sweat misting his abs. You removed your underwear with your clean hand, resting your throbbing cunt on his balls. Ready to beg again, fingers sinking into the fat of your thighs with bruising force, Kento hissed as your lube-wet hand squeezed down the length of his cock, coating him in glossy slick.

The feeling of his cock, velvet-on-steel, thick in your hand, was a drug. Kento moaned, bucking up into the wet little plaps of your fist, as your hand stroked and squeezed the length of him. Kento felt himself squirm, head tossing and turning as he crumpled the pillow up in one strong forearm, biting into the fabric and blossoms there, frowning, moaning, gasping.

"--fffuuuck yes-- hnnng-- just like that, don't stop please don't stop--"

You leaned down, sinking your teeth into the broad plane of his pec, smiling in spite of the desperation of the situation. Your hand sped up, determined that the first time Kento spent himself, would be just that-- the first time. You would be his lover and his healer.

"I love you," you whispered against the rolling muscles of his chest, "I love you, and I'm staying, and I'll make you better again, I promise..."

Kento twitched, jerking with the force of the stimulation, his hand drifting to cup around yours, the other tugging the roots of his own hair. He moaned, long and stilted, writhing and begging.

"--god I love you-- your mouth, in your mouth please--cumming--"

Kento's seed spattered into your hand and across your tongue, your mouth not fast enough to reach his pulsing cock. Kento panted, short, twitching pants as he watched himself cum uncontrollably, his cum dripping down your cheeks, your eyelashes. Slowing down your strokes, squeezing the last drops of seed as Kento twitched and moaned, overstimulated, you were surprised to feel him remain hard in your hand.

With breathless grunts, and new colour in his cheeks, Kento reached down, pulling you on top of him, chest to chest as he held you, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your hair. You felt him grip you by the hips, slipping them downwards, your belly sliding on the cum dripping across his abdomen. Tilting your chin to look you up at him, Kento looked down at you, nose stroking against yours.

"...all this time?" He asked, so desperate for the reassurance. You nodded, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance, straddling him so his cockhead pressed inside you.

"All this time...just crushing how I felt," you insisted. Kento was lost in the heat of your pussy clenching around his tip, bucking upwards involuntarily, begging to be invited in. Forehead pressed against his chest, his arms locked behind you, embracing you to him, you gasped as you rolled your hips, sinking him inside you, flush to your core.

You moaned, high-pitched and mewling. You felt yourself clenching, hot and wet around his twitching cock; you were not used to feeling so full, having abstained for so long, with no new suitor ever holding a candle to Kento. You felt Kento cough weakly, a smatter of shrivelled bloodless blossoms colouring your hair.

"--I've got you, I've got you--...shhh, I-- fuck you feel even better than I imagined-- I can't-- can't hold back, I'm--"

Kento's hips rolled up into you, both barely moving, entwined together in the soft silent dark. Belly pressed against his, Kento's cock curled hard against the front of your soft spongy walls, jolting insistently over the plush sensitive spot that made him feel belly-deep. Meeting his thrusts with your own, Kento growled out his sighs, chest rumbling beneath you.

"--worth it-- was all worth it for this...for you, I-- ...was so scared-- wanted to die in your bed-- so lonely--" Kento poured himself out to you, weakened and vulnerable inside you, his cockhead kissing your cervix as he kissed away the tears on your cheeks. The closer he got to his peak, the pain in his chest subsided, and he felt stronger, better, more alive than he had in months.

Kento rolled, flipping you over without warning, and knelt above you, grasping your hips so his cock stayed flush within you. Wrenching his pillow down the bed, he jammed it under the small of your back, panting, overtaken by something otherworldly as he stroked one hand down from your sternum to your mound.

"--selfish...I've been selfish," he berated himself, his long fingers slipping between your folds to find your throbbing little bud. You jolted, a high keening whimper leaving you as he rutted into your angled pussy, rolling your clit delicately between his forefinger and thumb. Kento glowered down at you, his eyes dark with lust, and you shivered under his cool gaze; suddenly, the man who had captured your heart all those months ago; "let's fix that, shall we?"

Kento wasn't sure how he summoned the strength to make love to you like this, his hips rolling with devastatingly slow precision, and you twisted beneath him, feeling every ridge of his bulbous tip as he watched where you were joined, pulling out almost completely before sliding all the way back, making you whimper and squirm.

"--together," Kento insisted, controlling your upcoming orgasm, his touches as accurate as your own fingers within yourself, reading you as you begged and moaned your way to orgasm. Kento fucked into you, hips stuttering, sweating and messy, desperate for you to cum so I can cum too and this whole fucking ordeal can be over god she's so gorgeous how did I get so lucky--

You trembled and whimpered, hands reached down and clutching Kento's thighs, feeling light as a petal on the wind as you came. Eyes closed, face relaxed with this heady, euphoric bliss, you swore you smelled the faint sweet-blossom-nectar of Spring wash over you, there and gone in the space between heartbeats.

Kento felt the weight of the world slip from his shoulders, suddenly whole and complete again, deep and emptying himself inside you with a shudder, your name on his lips; "--...so well--good girl, the best fucking medicine...thank you, thank you--"

Kento floated back down to earth, divine beneath the power being bestowed back into him. His chest cleared, supernatural by nature, his breaths now smooth and swelling. You stared up at him, eyes glazed, dazed by how you had moved him from death's door to demigod, in just minutes.

"I swear-- I promise you-- I'll be the best I can be for you-- the very best--"

"Idiot. You always were. You just...never saw yourself like I see you."

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #kento nanami x y/n #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami smut #nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami kento angst #nanami angst #nanami headcanons #jjk kento

[wesstars]

crush

cairo sweet x fem!reader (no pronouns used)

summary: when cairo goes home, what comes to mind are thoughts of you. wc: 2.3k tags: explicit, minors DNI!! all characters 18+. university au. masturbation, smoking, non-linear narrative. reader is cairo’s teaching assistant, reader described as masc presenting. a/n: let me know what y’all think :) for the vibes

masterlist

“Is Professor Miller not coming?” Winnie had just dropped into her unassigned assigned seat next to Cairo, two minutes before Greco-Roman Literary Theory started. The flipping of pages punctuated the chatter of other students waiting, a comfortable sound. “He said he’d be gone today,” Cairo replied absently. “There’s a ‘guest lecturer,’ our teaching assistant.”

“Oh, right. Who’s that?”

Cairo shrugged. “Who knows.” 

As if on cue, the door swung open. Cairo didn’t even look up—Miller mentioned that he kept a handful of research assistants that would be there to help with the advanced reading. But honestly, Cairo wasn’t sure what they could tell her that she didn’t already know. A melodic hum fell through the air for just a moment, a chorus. 

“Good morning.” At your lilting voice, rough with the edge of 10am, Cairo started. She watched you set your messenger bag on the desk. Your white shirt pulled over your shoulders; there was a glint at your collar, a necklace peeking through. A thin watch adorned your wrist. Winnie, along with some of the class, echoed your greeting, and Cairo blinked.

Late spring afternoon draped across the furniture in Cairo’s room, the quickly waning light giving easy way to a blue hour. Dropping her bag at the door, she tore off her shirt and skirt with the confidence of one standing before a crowd. Running a hand up from her sternum to her neck, she stretched languidly, sinking down onto her bed. After so many uneventful days—when she applied to Yale, she didn’t think that there would be any uneventful days—she finally had a story to turn over in her mind. 

You. You were a mystery. Even as you had started the class with an introduction, telling Cairo you’d graduated from a middle-of-nowhere college in California and sought a writing career in Vermont before delving into research, she longed to lay out the details and pull them out from under the rug. Where did you learn to teach? Did you like to drive, or be driven? Mountains, or the sea? Where did you grow up? Was there coffee or tea in your cupboard? Cairo’s stomach burned to know. Her dark eyes burned the ceiling with smoke signals, searching for you even though you were god knows where in that seaside state.

Arching her back, Cairo let her hand travel down, palm flat against her stomach, to trace the seam of her upper thigh. As the class had progressed, your keenly observant nature did not elude Cairo. Maybe listening was something that your pedagogy instilled in you, but the way you held each student’s question in the cant of your head, an answer in your crinkling eyes, listening seemed to be in your nature. It was meticulous, the way you picked apart the class text, weaving in references and tying it all in. In that two hour lecture, Cairo learned that you watched the same way you listened. 

Balmy as it was, the humidity made her dark waves cling to her skin, and she shivered as she brushed them back, thinking of a different pair of slim hands. Your scrutiny of each student had an intention that she couldn’t quite place; a determination that thrilled her. Cairo imagined that you’d observe her the same way, that she would be the one you were most fond of. It was only natural that her own attention would draw yours onto her. Holding the weight of your envisioned gaze made Cairo’s core twist, a pleased little flush that she prayed you could see. Your affected impartiality didn’t bother Cairo—in fact, it pulled her into your shadow. In her bed, she rolled onto her stomach then her knees, shaking her hair out. 

Her hands were steady as she reached for her bedside table, thumb rolling on the wheel of her zippo as she held the cigarette to her lips. Cairo took a drag, blowing out neat smoke rings as she settled back on her heels. The skin of her own fingers was cool against her lips, and when she took the smoke away, she studied the pattern of her lipstick on the white paper as she had so many times before.

She’d watched, unabashedly and unafraid of being caught, as you drummed your fingers on the chalk tray. Would your fingertip be soft or work hardened if it pressed down her tongue? Would your skin carry the stain of her red lip as deeply, as obediently, as the malleable wrapping paper?

“Alright, class,” you cleared your throat, turning slowly around the room to make eye contact with each student. “As you know, Jonathan’s away on a conference today. I’ll start with a bit of role, just so I can learn your names. Not many of you come to my office hours, I know.” You smiled easily. It was so guileless, Cairo mused, nearly childlike. You had the class go around the rooms with names and majors, a circuit that Cairo gave no attention to other than your lilting rhythm of hums, the tapping of your foot on the floor, the way you flicked the corner of the role sheet with your thumb. Your gaze was soon on hers, waiting expectantly. She looked right back with a blink.

“Cairo Sweet. English major.”

“Cairo.” Her name rolled off your innocent little grin, making her cock her head. “Wonderful.” Fascinating. Would you whisper midnight black desires in her ear, so deep and dark they might be murmured into the ink of your own empty room?

You continued, circling back to the front and easily transitioning to the lesson plan. You had an awfully effortless way of grasping the class’ attention, holding gently and never forcing. It wasn’t like Professor Miller, who always seemed to hasten through the lecture so he could return to his research. She could tell you liked the woods of the text, to fall down into the depths of each word, feeling its weight in you and letting it rock. Just like Cairo. 

She sighed into the warm air prickling up her skin, the curl of your voice around her name making her nipples harden in her bralette, even in retrospect. Exhaling around her cigarette, Cairo brought her hands up to palm her breasts, feeling the drag of her rubied nubs on her palms. Was it the high of the nicotine, the blur of smoke ridden air that made her float straight up into the lofty space you’d created in her mind? Though the feel of her own fingers scraping the lace against her skin was familiar, she found herself keen to think of your soft or callused hands. She was wet already, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten wet so fast.

The weight she imagined of your touch on her flushed skin was completely, deliciously foreign. Unbidden but intimately welcome, Cairo wished that your caress would find the map of her chest as familiar as a classic, something you had searched a million times over yet always managed to find something new. Shamelessly, Cairo trailed her fingers down her stomach, nails catching on every rib as she arched her back in the spilled moonlight. The mystery in the crossing of your long legs as you’d leaned back on the desk climbed up her belly, curling in the thump, thump, thump, of her heart. The uneven roll of your sleeves clung to the corners of her eyes, eidetic and oh, so, tempting. She had watched you so ardently—did you like to watch? Would you watch? 

The space between her thighs was achingly empty, craving the set of your narrow hips. She was comfortable there, and she remembered the taut stretch of wool as you dropped into your chair and set one ankle over your knee. There was something endearing about the way your trousers had pulled up to reveal slouchy black socks, and darker her mind went as the material pulling creases around your lap made her shudder and—she reached behind to pull one of her fluffy pillows under her, smoke billowing into the air. 

Cairo gave her hips an experimental roll, imagining it was the soft fabric of your slacks against her aching cunt, and grinned around her cigarette. Unlike the pillow, you would be ever so solid under her, grabbing for her thighs like a dog yearns to please. Were you more likely to bruise her skin, yanking her into you without care for blood—or would you guide her gently, make a home in her innocence and hold her more dearly than life ever could? Either way, your desire for Cairo would be so apparent that you couldn’t help yourself.

The dip of your tongue in her navel, the little smirk you’d undoubtedly wear as you went down further—would you go for her throbbing clit first, or would your lips press so warm—she didn’t know. She didn’t have to, content with all those different versions of you unfurling before her. In her bedroom, each time she moved her hips, it became easier to imagine you guiding her actions, the bump of your nose on her folds, damned if not addicting.

Cairo grinned as she fell onto her forearms, hips pushing into the soft pillow without abandon. The slide of her panties soaked with slick against her sensitive clit felt like the delicate press of your splayed hand on her desk as you’d passed, eyes occupied by the text you were holding. It had only been a split second, but it was enough for her to memorize every crease, every vein. Cairo let out a whine, a demanding little sound, as her movements grew erratic. Looking up into the heaven where you must be, she imagined that you’d murmur to her, “I’m here, I’m here, how could I be anywhere else but here?” as you traced the dip in her back. Her arousal took her down every sullied path she’d ever dreamed of, but her mind stuck on one gesture that made her mouth go dry. 

She remembered the way your shirt got just a bit untucked when you stretched during the class break. You’d instinctively tucked it back in, quick as you surveyed the class. Cairo thought that you’d dress yourself back up the same way after you bent her over the desk after class, pushing her skirt up and shoving your fingers into her, painting bruises onto her hip bones with how tight you held her.

The two of you would share a mutual understanding that she wanted this, wanted it bad enough for you to take it whenever you saw fit. Cairo decided that today, this time, you’d be as rough as you pleased, a cup of pens clattering to the ground as you pushed her down, forearm across her shoulder blades. Your necklace would be cold on her warm skin, would it be cold on her tongue? You’d put two, three fingers inside, humming in that absentminded way you did. She thought you’d nuzzle into her ear, all lips and sharp teeth, asking if she’d sprayed your favorite hair mist of hers because she hoped you’d notice—she did—and take her, break her, whatever you wanted. 

You’d send her plummeting down towards a deeper hell (or was it higher, up to your majestic heaven?), already knowing everything that her body needed. Cairo imagined herself coming so helplessly around the stretch of your fingers, so high strung from nights of trying to mimic the press of your touch on her clit, unable to reach the same heights you sent her to. As she held back tears, eyes on the ceiling in reverence, feeling herself drip to the floor, you’d sigh as your mind wandered to other things already, carelessly running a hand down her back. 

Cairo gasped, dropping her nearly finished cigarette in favor of gripping the bed sheets. The white fabric wrinkled around her fingers, reminiscent of your shirt creasing as you’d rolled your sleeves up. This was something new you could show her, just how fast she could come and just how wet it made her. It was a marvel, feeling the fabric cling to her cunt, almost as good as how you’d feel. Resting her forehead in the crook of her elbow, she murmured your name over and over again, a little susurrus of a litany, so similar to your preoccupied hum. Panting, Cairo giggled in her bliss, soft and bright as Californian oranges clinging to rich leaves. You were dark enough to be tucked into the wrinkles in the soft pillow, dark enough for Cairo to love, as a journal loves a secret.

Sated, Cairo grabbed her phone and typed your name in. The results spilled out, and she scrolled, looking for all of the details in the background of your social media posts, curiously drunk on the year’s gap in your CV. Cairo noticed the perfect little circle where the cigarette had burned when she dropped it, and she brushed away the remnants. The gesture smeared the ash on the sheets.

—

Walking into your office with barely a knock, Cairo took in the familiar room of an academic, but with your unfamiliar knick knacks around the place. A lighter, a leather wallet, glasses and wired headphones. You didn’t look surprised as you glanced up from your laptop. Instead, you smiled. 

“Cairo, isn’t it?” 

A flush of pleasure shot straight into her—you remembered. She nodded. Your shelves were covered in books and stacks of reviews, the morning’s leftover cup of coffee sitting on one of the ledges. Did you smoke before, or after your coffee? The terrible, terrible want to replace the taste of smoke on your tongue with the taste of her gave Cairo just the confidence she needed. 

“What can I do for you?”

Cairo leaned over your desk, watching the way your eyes dropped to her burgundy lipstick. “Would you be able to help me on the Aristophanes reading?” She pushed her copy of The Clouds towards you. “I can’t seem to grasp it.” Your eyes met hers. “Of course.”

--

a/n cont'd: can you read my mind, i’ve been watching you… there’s just something about you, baby… ♪ / hope you enjoyed @woewriting :)

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

#project wes #cairo sweet #jenna ortega #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet x female reader #cairo sweet x y/n #cairo sweet x you #cairo sweet x fem!reader #cairo sweet fanfiction #reader #reader insert #lgbtq #cairo sweet x reader smut #smut #self insert #jenna ortega x reader #cairo sweet x gender neutral reader #cairo sweet x gn reader #miller's girl #jenna ortega x reader smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x gender neutral reader #lesbian #wlw

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . UNFAIR WE’RE NOT SOMEWHERE MISBEHAVING ; — how blue lock boys react to you sending them a nude at practice.

FEATURING: nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, itoshi sae, itoshi rin + mikage reo.

warnings: f!reader, all characters written 22+, teasing, possessiveness, bachira sends some back. note: it’s been so long since i’ve done some hcs but aaaa i wanted to do these so hope u guys enjoy &lt;3

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO

nagi’s body feels heavy as he rests on the bench during training, offering himself a few moments of slacking off before the rest of the team are on his ass again to get moving. but it’s just enough time for him to watch the way the little notification from you pops up just as he unlocks his phone, letting the nozzle of his water bottle rest between his lips as he clicks.

but he almost whimpers when a few moments later his screen is consumed by a pretty little photo of you in his shirt, draped in the oversized material despite the way you’ve pulled it up over your tits — allowing him to see the way you’ve opted for only that and a pair of pretty panties.

nagi’s suddenly glad that he’s at training so he can play off the flush and heat of his cheeks as exasperation, but the throb of his cock is heavy underneath the tight fabric of his training shorts. he still knows he’d rather be at home with you — lips latched around your tits so he can suckle blooming marks into the skin as his hands push underneath the hem of your underwear.

“no fair, pretty thing.” he mumbles underneath his breath as he sends you a cute little emoticon back, signature little :x face that only seems to spur you on as you send another — fingers resting between your thighs as you sink into the comfy sheets of his bed.

sei <3 : such a pain, know i can’t touch you yet.

nagi types back quickly as the thick muscles in his legs spread, readjusting the suddenly restrictive fabric before he’s sending you a quick, lazy selfie back. the snowy peaks of his bangs are messy and slightly wet with sweat as it falls over his sleepy, lidded gaze but the want is apparent in his features despite the cute pout he wears. like a silent little plea not to go too far without him, having to leave you in bed without him was so bothersome already.

but just as you reply with a little but i miss you, sei he almost jolts when reo calls his name back onto the pitch — trying to settle his own heavy breathes and the racing of his heart as he allows himself another quick look at the pretty photos you sent him. but maybe if he scored five more goals they’d let him off early, he’d score ten if it got him home fast enough to feel the press of your skin under his palms and the hug of your body against his as he types out a quick reply, suddenly driven and motivated after his little break.

sei <3 : hey, come on. gotta wait for me, angel.

✩ ˛˚ . BACHIRA MEGURU

normally it was bachira randomly sending you nudes throughout his day, after workout selfies or just random photos of himself where you can see him naked in the mirrors dotted around the locker room in the background. but today, you wanted to be the one to catch him off guard — knowing practice has ended and he was probably getting ready to come home already.

are you done practice, bachi? your little message reads and he’s already grinning as he types out a reply before it’s followed by a photo of your pretty pussy, folds spread and already wet like you’re luring him home. he giggles before he almost moans, so fucking shameless as the rest of the team still clear out their things after their shower.

but it’s almost perfectly timed with the way bachira’s just finished washing himself off, letting his towel fall and pool around his feet before he’s walking back into the showers — the last of his teammates clearing out and thankfully missing the way he’s already rock hard because of you.

bachi <3 : you’re so cute, baby. lemme see a lil more, m’kay?

“mhm— so mean teasing me~” he sings to himself as he gives his cock a few slow strokes, whimpering before he’s taking a quick selfie in the fogged up mirror in the locker room. his hair is messy and his smirk is smug, but even through the hazed glass you can still see the length of him.

but bachira fucking throbs when his own photo is immediately followed by another from you, your fingers deliberately pressing against the intimate skin between your thighs — so he can’t see the way your swollen clit is probably yearning for him to bathe it in needy lavs and rolls of his tongue before he’s closing his lips around it and suckling languidly. but he knows just how to get what he wants.

bachi <3 : 1 new attachment.

the video is short but just enough for you to see the way he’s angled the camera above him, letting you see the way his pretty abdomen twitches with every needy squeeze of his fist around the sensitive glands of his cock as he pants. his amber gaze is narrowed and focused on the camera as his next moan stretches into another cheeky smirk. “come on, baby. touch it a lil for me, mhm.. lemme see it— please~”

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI SAE

you should’ve known better, sae taught you better than to tease him while he was at practice — he was already so unforgiving on the pitch that the last thing he needed was something to make him even more frustrated. so his fingers twitch into the side of his phone when the first notification he opens during break is you still lying in his sheets, wearing nothing but the fabric of the comforter over your body.

he knows you’re bare because that’s how he left you — he’d spent all night with his bare chest pressed against yours after he’d lost himself in the tight hug of your cunt before bed. he’d basically fucked you to sleep despite the soft, chaste kiss he’d pressed to your temple before he left — a contrast to the carnal desire his rough pace held lastnight. but this is how you thank him?

sae <3 : what do you think you’re doing?

sae’s reply is sharp despite the way he finds himself taking another look at the photo, letting his sharp gaze crawl along the exposed skin of your collarbones and shoulders before it falls to where the blanket just hides your tits. he already feels so wound up, so eager to get this practice done and over so he can remind you to behave.

but then you reply once more with a cute, sleepy looking selfie and it’s insane the way he wants to ruin you — to have your drowsy lidded gaze decorated with tears as he reads your little i just woke up! how’s practice? his cock throbs and he can almost hear the dreamy lull your voice would take with the innocent little question, he wishes he could’ve kissed you awake and let you feel just what you do to him before he left — maybe then you’d be good for him.

sae <3 : so you woke up and decided to tease me, hm?

sae’s next text is driven by the sudden weight of his cock in his uniform and the way desire twists in his abdomen — he’s pretty sure his aura has changed completely, to something darker as he watches the manager hesitate to tell him break is over even if for a second when it brings his sharp gaze away from his phone.

another vibration of his phone against his palm and he knows you’re gonna pay for this when the next notification is you having pushed down the comforter — letting him finally take in the shape of your tits that are still littered in the marks and bites he decorated them in last night. he stretches out the ache in his neck before he offers you another final reply as he burns the image into his mind, tense as he swallows roughly and returns to the pitch.

sae <3 : i’ll deal with you when i’m home, sweetheart. behave until then.

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI RIN

you always thought it was amusing to tease rin, maybe it was the way he tried so desperately to hold down his need for you — to pretend you didn’t have as much of an effect on him as you actually do. you were his and although you knew how seriously he took practices you always thought it was fun to get him a little more riled up — maybe because he always made sure to fuck you into the mattress when he got home.

you always know he’s on break because he always makes sure to text you, wondering if you’re awake or if you’re still in bed but today you’d woken up as he’d left, already missing the hug of your huge boyfriends frame around your figure and the press of his cock into your lower back.

so you only think you’re being considerate, like an offer to help him out with the frustration he’s probably still swallowing down at practice. it’s instantaneous, the way rin’s gaze turns darker when he gets the first glimpse of your body in the photo you send him — his sheets tangled between your legs as his shirt rides up your body to reveal the curve of your tits and swell of your ass underneath.

rinnie <3 : what’re you trying to do? anyone could’ve seen this.

his jaw is clenched tight as he types out a reply, gritting his teeth as his pretty features drop into a frown — you’d think he was mad, he is — mostly because he can feel the dangerous throb in his cock that’s already straining against his practice shorts. he almost growls at your ‘innocent’ little reply that only consists of a good morning rinnie <3 followed by another, lewder angle as your drool worthy thighs spread.

rinnie <3 : i don’t like people seeing what’s mine.

rinnie <3 : you belong to me.

it’s insane, the effect you have on his well trained body — it’s almost lukewarm the way he’s unable to control himself, suddenly too warm underneath his clothes and he’ll tear this field apart if it means it gets him home to you faster. he’ll have you crying on the end of his cock as soon as he sinks into you, every snap of his hips making your body tremble — as will your lungs when his hands grab and knead at your body.

i know, i’m yours “fuck—“ rin grits as he feels the heat of his need for you lick at the base of his spine, he feels warm around his shoulders and if he squeezed his phone any harder he’s convinced it would shatter. but he’s so fucking hard, already wound up at the memory of those same words falling from your pouty lips everytime his cock grazes along the sweet spots inside of you, like a hormone-drunken mantra that only pushes him to fuck you deeper, rougher until he’s all you fucking know.

rinnie <3 : this game won’t take long. don’t move until i get home.

✩ ˛˚ . MIKAGE REO

reo was obsessed with you, truly — it was almost impossible for him to leave you alone in the mornings he had practice, finding himself squeezing and palming at your body as he kissed you goodbye. his pretty little girlfriend who felt so perfect under his touch, who was so responsive when he made sure to kiss your tits goodbye too.

so it’s almost encouraged when he’s barely even there yet and his phone vibrates, a smug smirk resting on his lips when the first good morning message he receives is a pretty little photo of your body — nipples probably still wet from his spit as your hands palm at each. he loved the responses he could pull out of you, almost using them as a way to hide just how needy he was for you.

reo <3 : oh? you miss me already, bunny?

reo’s reply is teasing despite the way he has to press his free palm against his cock — repositioning it so the sudden bulge in his sweats wasn’t so obvious considering he still has to change when he gets to practice. but you were pretty, something that was all his and it was perfect — especially when his text is accompanied by another with your hand pressed between your thighs with a lil mhm, need you back.

reo <3 : you gonna let me spoil you when i get home, yeah? ‘s that what you want?

fuck— he’d let you devour him, to let you use him for your own selfish needs as you lure him between your legs, your hands twisting in his hair as you grind and smear your pussy along his mouth. yeah, doesn’t feel as good when it’s not you. you reply and he smirks, smug as his cock twitches in his sweats, pre-cum smearing along the dampening fabric as he covers his face with his palm.

reo <3 : you can do better than that, bunny. think you can hold out?

he hopes he can, reo wants nothing more than to turn around the car and come back to you — to cover you in even more marks and brands, so everyone knows that you’re his pretty little possession. he knows he can’t but you’ll wait for him, he’s unintentionally broken you that way, spoiling you in the pleasure that only he can give you as you type out another little mhm, hurry though :( followed by a short little video of your fingers sinking into your walls, wishing it was his.

reo <3 : how ‘bout you lemme see more then? wanna see what’s waiting at home for me.

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk smut #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro smut #nagi smut #sae x reader #sae smut #rin x reader #rin smut #bachira x reader #bachira smut #reo x reader #reo smut #itoshi sae smut #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin smut

[bloodlust-1]

| ⊱The Sin of Jealousy⊰ |

Gale x fem Tav — 18+ Explicit

Summary: Jealous Gale has something to prove. Wyll is getting a little too touchy for his liking, and Gale is out to prove a point to Tav. That she is his. Casting a mage hand to overpower her in a way she's never seen.

T/W: Smut!

Notes: Jealous Gale? Lives rent free.

This was fucking bullshit. Gale puffed his cheeks out, in an annoyed scuff. He was good at controlling his anger, for the most part. But when it came to Tav, his new beloved, something just clicked.

Jealous eyes pierced Wyll as he conversed with Tav. He joked, smiled, hells, he even touched her shoulder several times. Gale crossed his arms while his eyes fixed on Tav across the camp.

A surge of frustration burned into his eyes at the sight of Tav's face growing red with every gesture Wyll had to offer. Each time her eyes would lock with Gale's across the fire, awkwardly smiling. She mouthed 'It's okay' upon seeing Gale's uneasy posture.

He chuckled at the thought, surely it wasn't okay. Even if Tav declined his gestures, it still burned a hole in his chest. But in reality, Gale was overthinking every little interaction and filling his own head with junk.

Gale rolled his eyes while he watched Wyll and Tav. He had enough, without making a scene he walked past the two, locking eyes with Tav in a frustrated expression.

Awkwardly, Tav half smiled at Wyll, “Well, I’m happy all is well for the night. If you’ll excuse me.” She politely excused herself before walking where Gale was headed.

Gale followed the small trail into the woods that led to a lake. When she caught up to him, he was sitting on the shoreline, playing with the sand between his hands.

Tav quietly approached him, placing her hand on his shoulder, "I didn't mean to make you upset with Wyll." She softly spoke out, sinking herself onto the sand next to him.

Gale stopped playing with the sand and gazed out onto the sparkling water against the moonlight. "It was not you I am annoyed at." He sighed, "It is because of you that I am frustrated."

Tav tilted her head in confusion, allowing him to explain himself, "Wyll, he is a charming man. Seeing him make your cheeks flush the way I do, it drives me mad."

After his failed relationship, Gale wanted nothing more than to share his whole being with someone. He worried about losing Tav, and Wyll triggered a deep feeling of possessiveness. Tav was his.

Gale's demeanor went dark, and he reached out her hand, grasping Tav's wrist, "If he can not see that you are mine, then I'll have to prove it to everyone."

Tav's pupils widened to his cunning words, "Gale-"

He cut off her words with a needy kiss. He quickly parted Tav's lips with his tongue, wrestling his against her own. The kiss was sloppy and desperate. An adrenaline rush ran in Tav's veins. Never was Gale like this, and fuck was it a pleasant surprise. The feeling of the man she loved most dominated her like a toy was so intoxicating.

Her mouth parted willingly to his force, completely submitting under the sudden anger-driven kiss. Gale wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling Tav onto his lap. Tav’s hands found the sides of his face and tugged his jaw closer to hers.

"Oh no, no, my love." Gale ripped his lips away from her. "You're to be punished." Gale gracefully waved his hands in the air, a string of purple dust formed into a mage hand. The magic restrained Tav's wrist behind her back in an iron grip.

She tugged her arms unsuccessfully twice before looking up at Gale, eyes full of lust and confusion, "I-I don't understand."

He leaned back, pushing his palms into the sand as Tav sat on the growing bulge in his pants, "What's not the understand, my love?" Gale's eyes eagerly stared at her cleavage from her low-cut shirt. "The way he touched your shoulders with lust in his eyes. You thought it was just 'Okay'". Gale shook his head in a deadly, playful chuckle, "I ought to teach you a lesson."

With an angered rasp in his voice, he commanded her, "Grind your hips." The anticipation for her touch grew hotter under his pants.

Tav bit her lower lip, and a slight embarrassment filled her chest. It was like a different person possessed Gale, and it was jealousy fueling his angered desire for her body. Tav dug her knees into the sand before rocking her hips back and forth against his crotch.

She could feel his thickness poking her inner thighs with each stroke she took. Lust and pleasure left a hazy look on his face, never taking his eyes off her. He noticed how she bit her lips harder each time his bulge brushed over her core. The way her eyes slanted half opened from the pressure against her clit made his heart skip a beat.

Gale's fingers moved slowly and delicately, carefully unraveling the lace that bound her shirt together. As it loosened, the fabric slowly slid off her shoulders, exposing her bare chest to the chill of the night air. Her nipples had already hardened, almost as if anticipating his touch. He couldn't contain the desire that rose in him. "You are so beautiful," he murmured before leaning in and taking one of her nipples between his lips.

His tongue circled the tight bud, sending a wave of pleasure through her body. He could feel her heartbeat quicken, and he continued to lavish her with attention, his mouth exploring her body with hunger and passion.

Tav let out small, desperate whimpers, her body yearning for more of Gale's touch. He responded to her plea, tracing circles around her nipple with his tongue. His movements were full of hunger as he pressed his teeth into her skin, grinding it against them roughly.

Again, Tav tried to rip her wrist away from the mage's grip, but to no avail. Gale noticed this and pulled away. His voice, low and husky, came to her ear as he said, "Patience." The warmth of his hand radiated through her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

Tav rocked her hips harder against him, which rewarded her with small groans from Gale. His eyes shut tightly from the pressure. They continued to dry hump each other, and Gale's eyes trailed down to her pants. There was a damp spot on her crotch, and he grinned at the sight, "You're so unbelievably hot."

Gale's hand moved without conscious thought, working quickly to undo the button of her pants and exposing her bare body. Her core was already glistening with desire, and the sight of it made him take a sharp breath. His fingers eagerly explored the warmth of her core, tracing circles around her most sensitive area and sending jolts of pleasure coursing through her body. Tav moaned out in bliss as his touch became more focused, rubbing her clit in a way that made her body tremble with delight.

His mouth worked at Tav's neck as his fingers pleasured her. Gale sucked and ground his teeth on her nape. He littered her skin with hickeys and bruises that were impossible to hide. This is what he meant by proving it to everyone. He made sure Tav was unable to hide these.

A pain and pleasure mixed in her whines. Her hands grew numb to the tightness of the mage's hold. Tav gave Gale pleading eyes, "It hurts..."

He chuckled in amusement, "You are going to have to do more than sad eyes to change my mind." Tav moaned again while Gale skillfully rubbed her clit faster and faster; just the way she liked it. The pain of her hands melted away as she surrendered to the pleasure.

Hunched over her, panting and moaning, Tav felt the pleasure building up inside her, tingling through her legs and toes. She subconsciously wondered if anyone could hear her with how loud her cries were. "Gale, w-what if they hear us?" A wave of red painted her cheeks.

Gale was unphased, "Let them."

He moved with intention and purpose as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and lowered his zipper. His clothing hung off of his body like a forgotten memory as he returned his hands to Tav's hips. Lifting her body up just enough for his access. His fingers squeezed the soft curves of her body as he positioned himself at her entrance. His hard length throbbed with anticipation as he aligned himself, ready to enter her warmth.

Sighs of relief synced together as he pushed his full length into her. Her walls clenched around him tightly at first. Gale then laid back, glaring up at Tav's naked body in awe, "I want you to fuck me." He commanded and as he wished.

She began to eagerly thrust her hips against him, desperate for pleasure. As she moved, her body twitched and bounced with every push, causing a soft whimper to escape her lips. Gale was captivated by the sight of her and dug his fingertips into her ass, making her wince in delight. He held her tightly, forcing her hips closer and harder against him. She wanted to make him happy and did her best to ride him, giving him all the pleasure she could.

"Fuck- good girl." He gritted his teeth, his eyes practically rolling in the back of his head.

He couldn't contain his excitement any longer, so he started to move faster and harder against her own motion. The intensity of his thrusts was causing Tav to tip over, and soon she was falling onto his chest, her face pressed against his chiseled skin.

His touch was driving her wild, and her moans of pleasure were muffled against his chest as she surrendered to his constant passionate drilling. Her body was trembling with pleasure, and she was drooling. Tav allowed herself to get completely lost in the moment.

Gale and Tav moved in perfect harmony, their bodies entwined as he thrust into her core with vigorous intensity. In one swift, fluid motion, he pushed Tav off and commanded her to kneel, her face pressed firmly against the ground. With empathy, Gale snapped his fingers, commanding the mage's hand to cover her mouth to muffle her cries.

Tav tried to push herself up with her arms, wincing in pain at the soreness in her wrists. Before she could get her bearings, she felt Gale's long body pressing against her again. Despite her best efforts, she was powerless against his relentless thrusting. Her hands and knees were soon aching from the pressure of the sand beneath her, and Tav couldn't help but let out a muffled, sticky cry of pain against the mage's hand. Gale's grip on her hips forcibly held her in place.

Gale's eyes filled with the reality of Tav's ass bouncing against his groin, and fuck did it excite him more than ever. He was overwhelmed as he heard her muffled moans grow louder. Her body quaked with each thrust, pushing Tav further and further into the sand. With each thrust, her eyes fluttered shut and she succumbed to the pleasure he was providing her.

Tears whelmed in her eyes in bliss, and it only made Gale want her more. He continued to drive into her with an intensity that he had never felt before, pushing her higher and higher with every stroke.

Her walls began to twitch and clench around his cock. Gale felt the climax burn deep in him and he would only release once Tav was at her climax too. He leaned over and planted kisses and hickeys on her back. He groaned sweetly into her skin. Gods, he loved her. He never wanted to lose this.

His thrusts became sloppier and slower. Tav muffled between the magic hand, "I-I'm going to- Nghh! Cum-" Her voice huskily rang in his ears. In full force, he pushed into Tav for the final time before her walls spasmed around his length, receiving the warmth of his cum inside her as well.

Tav felt the mage's hand slowly faded into the air, leaving her panting for oxygen. She was overwhelmed by a sense of relief, yet her heart was still racing with the thrill of what had just happened. Suddenly, she felt the comforting embrace of Gale's arms around her body, providing her with a sense of security. Both of their hearts were pounding in their chests, with their bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat and their kneecaps feeling tender from the hard ground.

Gale breathed heavily against the back of Tav's neck, letting out a deep sigh of relief. He spoke firmly and with conviction, his voice ringing in Tav's ears. "I hope you've learned now: you are mine. Mind, body, and soul. No one else can claim you. You belong to me and only me."

She nodded eagerly. It was the best fuck she ever had, and maybe she'll defy him more often if this is the outcome, "It was amazing...maybe I'll consider standing by Wyll more often if it'll make you fuck me like this." Tav teased with a smile.

He chuckled against her neck, "You don't have to do anything for me to fuck you senseless, my love."

What was I listening to while writing this? 😌🫶🏼

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

#bg3 tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #gale bg3 #gale fanfic #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #baldurs gate gale #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale romance #tav x gale #gale fic #bg3 smut #gale smut #Spotify

[delirious-donna]

Dawn Chorus [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: I woke up with Higuruma on the brain (I love him your honour). It was only going to be a few hundred words, but here we are… the man needs to sleep so he can love you thoroughly.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: some somno, established relationship, pussy drunk Hiromi, oral sex, creampie

Masterlist

Higuruma Hiromi is a passionate man. He cares about his work, about his contribution to society, and about his relationship with you. Higuruma is also a tired man, often awake at ungodly hours to meet deadlines or review cases that he is working on pro bono. You love your husband and the dedication he tries to infuse into every day, but sometimes he just needs to sleep.

On the evenings where you are able to tempt him into just another glass of red wine, another piece of creamy Gorgonzola atop a cracker and just one more kiss, you feel like you’re winning against all the odds. It’s always far more enjoyable to go to bed together rather than having Hiromi kiss you goodnight on his way to the study.

Cuddled up against his back, you laugh at his faux resignation at being the little spoon… again. In truth, he likes it. He adores being held and the little kisses you pepper across his cheeks when you lean over to wish him sweet dreams. He toys with your fingers, pulling your palm so it lays flush over his heart until slumber drags you both under its warmth.

Of course, you were right.

Higuruma needed sleep and after a full eight hours, his eyes spring apart rather than sluggishly creak open like broken shutters. For once, he can appreciate the warmth of the sun and the tangle of the sheets instead of cursing his need to get up and go. Most of all, he can appreciate you, his beautiful wife, still fast asleep and no longer clinging to him like a koala.

So pretty, he thinks whilst his lips caress the sleep-soaked crook of your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent with gusto. Patient and honest, he admits when he peels back the thin cotton sheet to nose at your breasts. He continues to nuzzle until your nipples peak, a slow smile curving his lips and he can’t help but lower your top so he can taste you. Utterly perfect, he assures in silence, you are the salve to all of his wounds.

The morning dose of testosterone, that he would usually either quickly dispel by hand or with the aid of a cold shower, has him impatient and aching. His cock twitches inside his loose pyjama pants, but he ignores it in favour of taking his time. Flicking his tongue across your pert bud, he whines in his throat when you arch in sleep, straining to press yourself further into his mouth and he takes the invitation to suckle until you wake with a gasp.

Your eyes snap wide, belly aching with some unknown pressure that continues to build without faltering. A head of black hair decorates your chest, wet little suckling noises matched by the sensation of pulling tugged deliciously behind your navel.

“Hiro… mm, someone’s hungry this morning.”

Hiromi’s eyes roll over at the sleep affecting your voice, arms stretching overhead before lacing through his hair to tug at the roots. Instead of replying, he presses his pelvis against your hip, the hard length of his cock evidence enough that you are absolutely correct.

“Take what you want, love, I’m yours,” you coo softly, wriggling your hips in suggestion.

It’s one he doesn’t need clarifying, Higuruma has you bare and spread within seconds of your invitation. Amazed at the sheen of arousal already decorating your folds, he laps eagerly at the residue until all he can taste is you. He thumbs at your clit, using those slender fingers to peel you open like a flower in bloom only for his tongue to wet along your pussy.

You keen for him, driven on by his enthusiasm and the telltale rut of his hips into the mattress below. The hook of his nose replaces his thumb, dragging side to side over your pearl as it hardens from the friction and arousal. Grabbing great tufts of his hair, you grind yourself against his face and in turn his hold on your thighs shift to the meat of your backside. Hiromi palms your cheeks, pulling them apart until you feel more exposed than you thought possible.

“Fuck… Hiro!”

He can’t hear you through the muffle of your thighs by his ears and the wild beating pulse inside his head. With feverish need he bathes you in his spit, not content until your dripping down to the sheets. The tip of his tongue digs into your entrance, giving a strangled grunt at the squeeze you give around the wet muscle, and he pulls back to look up at you.

“Sweeter than ambrosia. I swear you would be more divine than any God,” he mumbles breathlessly, eyes hooded but not with fatigue for once.

Words fail you, becoming stuck in your throat at such conviction in his praise. All you can do is reach out and cup his cheek, skin soaked in your essence and his saliva but you hardly care. You watch as he fumbles with the drawstring of his pants, lowering the band to reveal his cock, purple and angry from lack of attention. Oozing pearls of translucent precum leak from his slit, and you’re ready to be filled but he lays flat once more.

Hiromi tongues at your sweet clit, teeth gently biting and tugging at your puffy folds while he wets his fingers and pushes two into you, right to the knuckle. You cry out at the sensation, more than ready for the stretch but not expecting this. His wrist rotates, fingers curling in a come-hither motion and when his fingertips pass over that deep mass of engorged tissue, your thighs tremble.

“Sing for me, darling. Be my morning chorus.”

If this was going to be the result of Higuruma getting better sleep, then you would drag his ass to bed every night if you had to. He humps the bed, strangled noises mingled with sharp little whimpers when you push his face deeper into the apex of your thighs. You could feel the wetness pooling between your cheeks and dripping to the sheets, Hiromi’s mouth making out with your pussy in a rhythm that matches his adventuring digits.

He was breaking you apart, masterfully unpicking every thread that made you whole and waiting with endless patience until you unravel into his palm. The heat between your hips grows too much all at once, the friction on your clit and the relentless thrumming of his fingers against your sweet spot blinding you without warning.

“Oh, I’m… fuck! Hiro—I can’t h-hold back!” Your voice warbles like a songbird, crescendoing into a shriek of bliss that could shatter glass.

Higuruma delights in your orgasm—revelling in it—stilling his fingers to feel your velvet walls clench and spasm around him and slowing the lap of his tongue to soft kitten licks. He massages your waist lovingly, stroking featherlight fingers across your quivering and soft stomach until you float back to earth.

It was all he could do to stave off his own release, his balls heavy with need and drawn tight to the base of his cock. He knew the moment he sat on his haunches there would precum staining the sheets, but he cared little considering the mess he’d already made from loving you so thoroughly.

Gingerly, he sits back and hisses at the slap of his cock against his stomach. You moan, squirming on the bed and he catches your eye. Your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, pupils blown wide and that’s all he needs to pump himself with wild abandon. His wife wants him. His wife is attracted to him. His wife always does the best by him.

His strokes were long but frantic, the slick sound of his foreskin rolling back to reveal his cockhead so sinful that he punctures his lip with his teeth. White hot heat drips from the small of his back, hips and backside tightening with the impending release.

“W-where?” He asks with a stutter, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Inside, Hiromi, please?”

“Shit, shit, shit.”

He lunges forward, bracing on one forearm whilst he notches at your still softly pulsing entrance and pushes inside. Your arms wind around his neck in urgency, kissing his face, his neck, his shoulder and anchoring your legs around his lean waist.

No sooner was he buried to the hilt, than his orgasm hit like a force of nature. His arms tremble, spine bowing and flexing under the pressure whilst he paints your most inner walls with thick, creamy seed. He collapses into your loving embrace, settling his warm cheek at your collarbone and damn near purring at the gentle stroke of your fingers through his hair and down his back, smiling dazedly.

Higuruma Hiromi is a passionate man, especially when he’s had a full night's sleep.

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