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venussaidso · 2 months

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𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐑𝐚𝐡𝐮-𝐊𝐞𝐭𝐮: 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦

the prominent themes of vampirism such as desire, hunger, mystery and illusions tie so perfectly with the moon and its nodes. it wasn't surprising to find the nodes dominating this genre the most, along with the luminaries (moon & sun nakshatras, but more fittingly the moon). i will not be touching on the few sun nakshatras playing vampires, as the moon makes far more sense symbolizing true vampiric nature.

So many vampire movie posters have this luminous glow to them, likely done consciously because of these creatures' affinity for nighttime, and generally being nocturnal as they're extremely sensitive to any type of sunlight.

I've once briefly mentioned, in my "Moon Dominant Themes" post, that lunar natives can operate very secretly, such as 'working in the shadows'. And the whole lore of vampires always emphasizes their ability to hide themselves while still living among humans.

Vampires undergoing periods of dormancy and resurgence is interesting as that can also be linked back to the moon's cycles of waxing & maning. The influence that the moon has on vampires, in some legends, is during certain lunar phases in which they become more active. A full moon could literally mean that their strength has enhanced, whilst a moonless night could mean their desire for blood is heightened.

Rohini Sun Colin Farrell

Claire Nakti explored, in her "TOP 3 Most Magical & Mystical Astrology Signs | Cults, Divination, & Occultism | Part 2 (Nakshatras)" documentary, on the ability of Moon nakshatra natives to brainwash/mind control/hypnotize.

daniel kaluuya is a hasta moon, not rohini.

As these natives are often cult leaders, their ability to influence the mind goes back to their lunar-rulership. The Moon rules over the mind, emotions and subconscious. A vampire's ability to hypnotize humans and other lesser beings is in parallel to the Moon's influence over the psyche and subconscious.

This illusory nature found in vampires can be connected to the shadow planet, Rahu. As Rahu is illusions, desire, hunger. Rahu is very seductive and tempting; this could tie back to some legends in which vampires lure their prey giving them promises of pleasure.

Ardra Sun Tom Cruise.

In "Interview with the Vampire", Tom Cruise plays Lestat who is an overindulgent, greedy vampire. Rahu governs desires and the pursuit of worldly pleasures. It's related to insatiable cravings that lead to greed. The lustful nature of Rahu is seen in Lestat's intense bloodlust and the chaos it brings.

Rahu's associations with eclipses relates to their ability of being hidden in the shadows. Another hint is in Rahu being a Shadow planet itself, just like Ketu is which is also related to vampires.

The story about Rahu's head getting decapitated by Vishnu for trying to get a drink out of the nectar of immortality can be brilliantly paralleled with vampirism. Due to Rahu's consumption of the drop of the nectar, he became the infamous dismembered immortal. His dismemberment a symbol of the detachment from humanity to vampirism.

Rahu is considered an entity of darkness and malevolence, preying upon cosmic forces and defying the natural order of things (such as vampirism which does defy nature itself, ie. the dead becoming undead) in pursuit for immortality. Vampires are literal parasites, and Rahu is also parasitical. Vampires feed on humans without providing any benefit in the ecosystem in return, a one-sided relationship which resembles one between a parasite and its host. Rahu is depicted as insatiable and consuming, feeding and draining one's energy. It creates a cycle of thirsting for more without any fulfillment, a predicament vampires find themselves in.

Ashwini Sun Luke Evans

Rahu and Ketu represent the lunar nodes, respectively depicted as the head and tail of the celestial serpent. Their energetic interaction can be likened to the endless chase between a vampire and a vampire hunter, villain and hero, the friction between unlikely lovers. It's obvious in how Rahu embodies the insatiable hunger for experiences and the craving for fulfillment that it can be the vampiric force in such a dynamic. Like a vampire, Rahu relentlessly pursues its desires, often leading to greed and excess. And then you have Ketu, on the other hand, which embodies detachment, spirituality, and liberation from worldly attachments. It quite literally symbolizes the renunciation of desires and the quest for enlightenment, opposing Rahu's restlessness for more. Ketu is a cutting force, and like a determined vampire hunter, is skilled in tracking down illusions and breaking free from temptations.

Although it sounds like a more fitting interplay between Rahu as the evil force and Ketu as the hunter, it's actually more seen in the other way around.

It is more so that Rahuvians are the vampire hunters, which I found so intriguing; showcasing how Rahu is both the parasitical (illusory), and also the one to be rid of parasites (disillusionment). And I have explored this particular theme in my Rahu post -- how Rahu natives experience a lot of disillusionment from their reality, wanting to cast away the illusions that drain the life force.

The reversal of roles showcases the fluidity of the nodes; their roles almost always expected to reverse, illustrating just how Rahu and Ketu are deeply intertwined with the concept of karma, representing the push-&-pull between cosmic forces of destiny.

More nodal-vampire movies, and other examples in which Rahu & Ketu find themselves on opposite sides of the same spectrum in which they are both vampires, similar to the friction seen between Louis (Ketu) and Lestat (Rahu) in "Interview with the Vampire".

In the film "Fright Night", the one who has to kill the villainous vampire is an Ashwini native. It is also interesting how in "Queen of the Damned" (above, right), the villain is a Magha native who must be stopped by her Mula lover -- both being vampires.

As mentioned in the figure image about the film "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter", where a nodal-ruled native is paired up with someone who is lunar-ruled, this is a type of pairing seen a lot in these supernatural stories.

Similarly to "Twilight", as Edward was the one to turn Bella into a vampire, we see the planetary reversal of this in which the lunar-native is the one who turns the nodal-native.

Or the film "Vamps" in which Hasta Sun, Shatabhisha Moon native Alicia Silverstone turns Mula Sun, Magha Moon native Krysten Ritter into a vampire.

It isn't a surprise that the moon and its nodes are related to the extremities of the mind. These energies can cause isolation due to how polarizing they come off in regular society (furthermore validating its relation to vampirism), so they become attracted to one another -- especially the nodal natives to the moon natives, because of how much they feel magnetized by them, and vice versa.

The presence of some Sun nakshatras in vampire stories is present and that could tie to the Sun's influence over the Moon despite the fact that solar symbolisms regarding vampirism don't exist, and vampires are far too sensitive to the Sun so much so that they get sunburn during the full moon where the sun's light reflects (interesting to think about). The whole point of a vampire is to lurk in the shadows or during nighttime, so the strict avoidance of the Sun could make sense in there being solar-natives in vampiric roles. It makes for an interesting contradiction, certainly.

Ketu is the body of the severed demon Rahu following the consumption of the elixir. Much like Rahu, Ketu is also associated to darkness and illusions. But it symbolizes the darker, unseen aspects of reality -- all the hidden forces and energies as I've touched on in my Ketu exploration. Ketu and Rahu are two sides of the same coin, it isn't surprising to see them share many vampiric roles/stories.

Ketu is about spiritual liberation, detachment (in this context, becoming a vampire means a harsh detachment from normality/the old life), transcendence; these existential themes are found in vampirism.

The character Louis in "Interview with the Vampire" played by Mula Sun Brad Pitt describes his existential crisis as a vampire to a Magha Sun human who interviews him.

The enhanced strength, agility, speed, hearing and all these abilities are gained after the painful transformation process, going from human to vampire. This process is seen in the film "Interview with the Vampire", Mula Sun Brad Pitt's character going through excruciating pain when turning. My mind immediately takes me to Claire Nakti's first Mula nakshatra exploration, in which she touched on the interconnection of pain and evolution for access to more powers.

robert pattinson is an ardra moon, not sun. and i accidentally used jk rowling's face as l.j smith, ugh! 💔

Vampires are caught between worlds, trapped in a liminal space between life & death. Ketu can cause feelings of entrapment. The yearning for release from their eternal existence is a common theme, as Ketu wants to escape its body. Louis de Pointe du Lac is the best character as example of rejecting one's own nature and wanting to cease to exist.

Mula Sun Brad Pitt

nodals being so emo jfc

notes: colin farrell's birthtime accuracy is botched, he's definitely a mula ascendant. tom hiddleston stays a possible ashwini moon until he's not (until his birthtime is available and accurate).

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stevenose · 9 months

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hold me down (18+)

day 6 of 31 of the august writing challenge

today’s word: comfort

contains: steve x reader; gender unspecified reader; whatever the kink is where u just want someone to lay on u. some breath play; cumming inside; finger sucking ???? ejdhekhhj

Not even the thickness of Steve’s cock filling you up was enough. Your legs bent at the knees, tight around his hips. He fills you deeply, fully, knocking the air out of you. But it’s still not enough.

“Steve,” you moan, back arching as your hips try to meet his. He moves slow, calculated. Sometimes he just likes to see how much you squirm. When he goes too fast, he can’t enjoy the view. Now he’s enjoying the push and pull, the tightness and warmth of you. He sighs in response, smiling lightly as he continues to fuck you.

It’s not enough.

“Steve,” you say again, moving your hands to his elbows. He’s propped up on them but you push, making him lose his balance.

“What?” he asks, confused, hips stalling.

You just moan, still pushing weakly at his elbows.

“Answer me, honey, or else I’ll have to stop.”

“I want you.”

It makes Steve smile. “You got me. I’m right here.”

“No, like -“ You sigh in frustration because you don’t even really know what you want except for him to crush you. Which is bizarre, and you can’t really say that. “Wanna feel all of you.”

He looks down with furrowed brows. Was I not in all the way? But sure enough he is, buried to the hilt inside of you. He frowns when he looks back up, a little embarrassed. “Uh, you have all of it -“

“You!” you cry, now pulling your arms around his shoulders and pushing him down. He tries to catch himself but it’s useless - he falls chest to chest with you, both of you gasping. He opens his mouth to apologize but you push your hips up and moan. “Like that.”

“Huh?”

“Lay on me and fuck me,” you whine. “Jesus, Steve, just do it.”

“Uh -“ Steve blinks. He can’t really move when he’s right on top of you, so instead he props himself up just slightly on his elbows before pulling out and then pushing in again. You breathe out happily, head thrown back on the pillow beneath you.

“Good boy,” you moan.

It leaves him feeling some kind of way - hot and energetic. He catches your lips as he continues, still keeping with the deep strokes, his tongue licking yours. His chest rubs against yours and you moan at the friction it causes. He’s warm and soft on top of you, a comfort better than anything else. You want to be smothered by him, the weight grounding you, feeling him against you.

“Flip over,” he breathes against your lips, and you do, rolling onto your tummy. Steve’s quick to slide inside of you again, and he drapes his body over your back, knocking you off of your knees and flat against the mattress. He’s really pushing on you now, able to practically lay on you, his hips meeting your ass with each stroke. You moan loudly, rocking your hips. “Like that?”

“Uh-huh,” you groan, trying to keep your head up.

“You’re an angel,” he whispers, mouth pressed against your ear. He’s all-encompassing. “Takin’ it so good.”

“Uh-huh,” you moan again. It takes effort to breathe. It’s dizzying and gorgeous. Even if you’re under him now, you could cry at the thought of him getting off of you once you both finish. You never want to leave this position. “Harder.”

Steve pulls out slow, nearly all the way, and it’s like waiting for the initial drop on a rollercoaster. Anticipation pooling in your chest, your body tensing under him, not knowing when he’ll -

“Shiiiiiit,” you moan, suddenly sheathed on his cock. “Oh… fuck.”

“Yeah?” he’s panting a little from the exertion. Fucking himself hard and fast into you. He sees you failing to keep your head up, so he reaches around with an arm, putting you in a headlock. You clench around him, mouth dropping, and he presses a wet kiss to your cheek. “There you go, just lay there ‘n take it.”

Your head falls to the side, your cheek resting on his strong bicep, chin in the junction of his arm. You can feel yourself drooling but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. He keeps up his pace, crushing you, hairy chest against your back and you feel that white hot feeling intensifying in your lower stomach. You might just cum without being touched, a first for you.

You start talking, but not anything that makes sense. Your head jumbled up by all of it. Steve laughs breathlessly, takes a moment to adjust before railing you again. “Gettin’ dumb on my cock again?” he asks. “Y-you’re such a good fuck, you know that?”

A wild moan escapes your parted lips. You angle your ass up slightly so his thrusts hit harder. Your hands reach for his arm, just resting on it, eyes rolling back as he takes you for all you are. Everything is Steve. His cologne, his sweat, his hairspray is all you can smell with your bated breaths; his weight and cock pummeling your walls all you can feel. His big hand on the pillow above you all you can see. You have half a mind to taste him, too - and so you do, moving your head to the side to suck his thumb into your mouth.

“Shit!” he grits, arm tightening around your neck. “G-gonna - cum, oh - fuck, baby - y’gotta stop-“

You swirl your tongue and that’s it for him. He fills you, warm and thick, and even that feels comforting. His warm breath in your ear and his hot, flushed skin like a heated blanket. Even though you haven’t cum, you feel relaxed, too, your legs unclenching and body going limp.

Steve pumps inside of you a few more times, making sure you’re properly filled, before moving his arm away from under you and pulling out. He’s shaking when he flips you over to look at you, your eyes a little crossed. “Hey, you with me? Are you okay?”

You nod and simply pull him down into you again. “Don’t go.”

He laughs and kisses your forehead. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #steve harrington smut

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multi-kpop-fanfics · 10 months

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tw: dom!seungcheol, sub fem!reader, bunny play, breeding, shibari, spanking, degradation, use of petnames, mentions of daddy kink, established relationship!AU - minors dni.

@duhnova hiiii <3

One could say that your phone is the extension of your hand, judging from the amount of time you're glued to it.

But the one time you decide to leave it on the table to attend to some business of yours, it fell on the most wrong hands possible - those of your boyfriend.

To his defense, Seungcheol just wanted to search about a recipe! Not his fault you had left your phone open to the results of a fucking kink test.

But what would happen next would be 100% his fault.

"Still not admitting it, bunny?"

"Cheol, p-please stop calling me that!"

"But why?" He fake pouts, "The little tail looks so cute on you, baby," he lands a harsh slap on your ass, making you wince.

"You're so m-mean!" You whine in defeat, pussy clenching around nothing as his cum from his previous orgasm drips onto the already soiled sheets.

"Do you seriously believe the shit you say, Y/N? Because the kinktest results say otherwise," Seungcheol slaps your ass again, running his rough hands over the cris-crossed red ropes that bind your ankles flush to your thighs.

"C-Cheollie...." You wiggle your ass to tempt your boyfriend into pushing his dick in your pussy again, hoping he will fuck you to oblivion.

"It's interesting though," he towers over you and drags his heavy cock through your folds, "How similar you actually are to a real bunny."

"What -fuck- is that s-supposed to mean?" You buck your ass upwards to get more friction, but he pushes you flat on the mattress.

"What I'm trying to say is that you're always so energetic and adorable around me," Seungcheol presses a kiss on your back, "Very affectionate, yet needy when you're all hot and bothered...." He drags his lips over your spine.

"Not to mention how easily you turn into a dumb whore who always begs for my cum when I'm stuffing you full with my cock."

He punctuates the last word by sharply thrusting inside you, bottoming out in one go. Your breath is knocked out of your lungs, ears filled with the sloppy noises of Seungcheol fucking your creamed pussy.

"C-Cheol-"

"Say the right one, bunny." He slaps your ass again, playing with the bunny tail plug in your other hole to tease you even more.

"D-Daddy..."

"Yes, bunny?"

"Please fuck me full, please!"

"Now that's more like it." He smirks behind you and presses a chaste kiss on your shoulder before delivering another full thrust in your pussy.

"You better be able to take this, because that kink list of yours is pretty long, darling."

"What are you t-talking about?!"

"Don't worry, bunny - We have lots of nights ahead of us."

#svthub #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #svt scoups #choi seungcheol #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen

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magics-neptunes-things · 3 months

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Winter is coming

Hi guys!

This is the first time I try to write with two existing people, I hope it suits you. I don't really know what to think about it to be honest.

Also I apologize if there are weird things, I received a new lava lamp that bubbles for my birthday and it hypnotizes me x)

Do not hesitate if you have suggestions or requests, I will respond as soon as possible ♥

It was a request right here by the way.

TW : Mention of nudity

Enjoy!

P.S I'm sorry for the title

The icy Swedish cold seems to pierce the Barcelona players tonight, during the game between FC Barcelona and Rosengård. Apart from Ingrid Engen and her Norwegian origins, most Spanish players seem to suffer particularly from the cold. Despite the relatively easy win as the match ended with a 5-0 for Barcelona, Lucy can only notice Ona’s defeated and tense face.

After a few seconds of hesitation, the English decides, despite their vain attempts to keep their couple deprived, of joining her, the need to know what’s happening to Ona more important than her desires for discretion. Ona doesn’t turn around when Lucy calls her name, a bottle under her arm and applauding, her face turned towards the audience.

In a few strides, Lucy finally reaches her height, gently placing her hand on the neck of the young woman. This doesn’t prevent Ona from being a little startled before relaxing when she realizes that it’s only Lucy who is behind her.

"Is everything okay?" Lucy asks, immediately seeking to plunge her eyes into Ona’s.

"I'm fine" Ona simply replies, without even trying to smile.

This seems to quickly alert the English, perhaps a little too used to seeing Ona smiling and radiant at her side. Ona puts her hands on her face while Lucy speaks again.

"It doesn’t look like it"

Lucy’s tone is gentle and delicate, certifying that there is only concern behind it and that it isn’t for the push to confession in any way. The attention warms the heart of the Catalan, unlike her sore fingers.

"I’m fine, Luce. I’m just cold" begins Ona before turning in the direction of the English. "I just couldn’t wait for the game to end. The last ball I took from my head gave me the impression that I was given a huge slap on the face"

To explain better, Ona carries a gloved hand on the side of her face, making Lucy laugh softly.

"Nice assist anyway" compliments the brunette, making Ona smile. "I'm going to the locker room before losing all my fingers. You come with me?"

Ona nods and follows in Lucy’s footsteps, seizing her gourd to drink some water, regretting however that it’s not a good hot tea. Shivers run through all her body all the way to the dressing room and she willingly wraps herself in a blanket when she’s inside.

"I have no desire to undress" Ona admits from the bench on which she sits, huddled under her blanket.

"I can give you a hand if you want" Lucy offers with a grin.

Ona laughs softly and shakes her head, trying not to let her eyes slide too often towards Lucy who is changing. She is helped a little by their teammates who join little by little the locker room, Aitana seems even more disturbed by the cold than her. Unlike Ona, Aitana almost never left Spain to play, so she never had to face Manchester’s winter on a daily basis.

Lost in her thoughts, Ona realizes that Lucy is completely changed only when she comes to sit next to her on the bench. She passes her hand energetically into the back of the Catalan, seeking to create a friction to warm her.

"How about not showering now and taking a nice warm bath back at the hotel?" whispers Lucy to Ona while bowing an eyebrow.

"I really like this idea" Ona says with a smile.

Ona finally found the courage to get out of her blanket to change also, putting on with relief several layers of clothes to warm up as much as possible. In the bus taking them back to the hotel, Ona sits on a seat next to the window and Lucy doesn’t hesitate a single second before sitting next to her. They have no particular rules and sit very often next to other people, but this evening the older one have the impression that there is more than the cold which bothers Ona.

Ona gradually lets herself go against Lucy and when the bus finally starts once everyone has arrived, the head of the youngest is fully on Lucy’s shoulder. Even if Ona is tactile and her love language is physical contact, she isn’t the type to have such intimate gestures in public. But Lucy says nothing, promising herself to ask Ona questions once they are in their hotel room. And when Lucy gently puts her hand on Ona’s leg, she tightens a little more against her.

After a group meal in the hotel’s dining room, Ona quickly returns to their room but it’s only a few minutes after Lucy joins her. When the brunette arrives in their room, Ona is on the phone and speaks quickly in what Lucy recognizes to be Catalan. Understanding that her girlfriend is either on the phone with her mother or her older brother, Lucy gently closes the door behind her and approaches her girlfriend from behind.

"Say hello to them for me" Lucy whispers in Ona’s ear before kissing her neck.

The shivers that runs through Ona isn’t related to the cold this time, but to the pleasant sensation of Lucy’s lips on her skin. Smiling softly, Ona turns her head in Lucy’s direction with a small smile.

An exchange of eyes later while the interlocutor of Ona tells her something, Lucy smiled softly at Ona before kissing her nose and letting her go. Seeing Ona’s sulky face, Lucy smiled softly.

"I’ll prepare the bath" she whispers again.

Ona nods and sits on their bed to end her conversation, her eyed following Lucy as she sneaks into the bathroom. It’s not every time there’s a bathtub in their hotel rooms, but since there’s one it’s great to enjoy it, right?

When Ona joins Lucy a few minutes later in the bathroom, the bathtub is fully filled and Lucy is adding foam.

"Tadam!" Lucy happily sings, triggering the laughter of the Catalan. "Lady Batlle’s bath is ready"

"It’s Miss for now, thank you very much"

Lucy smirk for any answer, watching Ona get rid of the thick sweatshirt she had been wearing until now.

"Aren’t you coming with me?"

Ona’s question is posed with a touch of concern when she realizes that Lucy doesn’t make the slightest gesture to join her while she is on almost entirely ready to enter the bathtub.

"If you want, but I wanted to let you relax before I talk to you about something."

Lucy almost immediately regrets her choice of words when she sees Ona’s face painted with worry. The brunette frozes, with only one leg entered in the water while she was stepping over the bathtub.

"Nothing dramatic Oni, don’t worry" adds Lucy, smiling affectionately to reassure her.

It only seems to work half way, since even if she ends up nodding and sitting in the hot water, Ona’s gaze is always anxious. Deciding to join her instead of mentally slapping herself, Lucy gets rid of her clothes, leaving them on the pile of clothes already formed by those of Ona.

Settling behind Ona, Lucy sighs of relief as she feels her muscles relax in the hot water. Even if she seemed less affected by the cold than Ona, this didn’t prevent that it was probably not her favorite conditions to play a football match.

"Come here, Love"

Passing her arms on each side of Ona’s body, Lucy draws her all against her, smiling when she feels Ona pressing her face into the hollow of her neck. Sliding her fingers along her hips, the English girl thinks about the best way to engage the conversation. The language difference between them was never a problem, Ona speaks really good English despite her accent that Lucy simply finds adorable. And Lucy understands Spanish perfectly well and also does well in this language by spending time with their Spanish teammates.

"What did you want to talk about?" asks Ona, interrupting Lucy’s thoughts.

"You"

The answer seems to surprise the Catalan who takes off her face to be able to better observe her girlfriend.

"Me?"

"Yes, I think you looked trouble by something. As if you were thinking of something, not really here you know? I know you told me it was the cold, but I feel like there’s something else"

Ona briefly bites her lip before answering, choosing the words she will use to not lie to Lucy without worrying her too much.

"I’m a little tired, that’s all" Ona replies, continuing to see Lucy’s unconvinced gaze. "I’ve been playing a lot lately between the national team and Barca. And even though I love it and wouldn’t do anything else, tonight was really complicated for me. I was exhausted at the end of the game."

"Why didn’t you ask for a replacement?"

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows when Ona shrug, turning her head to look ahead. Her back leaning against Lucy’s front.

"I won’t let the team down"

Knowing Ona’s determined and stubborn character, Lucy can only imagine perfectly the reasons that pushed Ona to finish the match as planned in Jona’s head. And, knowing also that it’s useless to discuss with the Spanish for the moment, Lucy decides instead to change the subject. For the moment. Or rather try to relax Ona as much as possible. Stepping back a few centimeters, Lucy put her hands in the back of the brunette, drawing her tattoos with her fingertips before starting to massage her back. She presses her fingers along the shoulder blades and the neck of Ona, taking the time for each of the muscles of the Spaniard.

"Madre mia" moans Ona, making Lucy smile.

"Are you moaning already?" jokes Lucy maliciously.

It also amuses the youngest, who gives her a little playful slap on the leg. But apart from that, she remains peacefully motionless, too relieved by the attentions that Lucy brings her.

"You are so tense" the English mumbles feeling the muscle knots everywhere in her back.

Ona humms simply for any answer, eyes closed and as transported elsewhere by the benefits of this massage. She could fall asleep on the spot. But her smile was reborn on her lips when she felt Lucy’s lips again on her neck and in her neck.

"Is that part of the massage?"

"Only for you"

"Because you massage a lot of other people?" Ona informs herself, an innocent look on her face.

"No" laughs Lucy. "On the other hand if someone other than me does it to you, you have to inform me because I need to kill him"

Ona laughs softly and opens her eyes, tightening a little more against her girlfriend’s body, tilting her head back to look at her.

"I’ll think about it the next time I go to the physios at the training center"

Even if the sentence is said in the tone of the joke, Ona can’t help but feel a heat wave in the hollow of her belly by noticing the upset air that emerges for a few moments on Lucy’s face. The idea that she may be jealous for her will never cease to amaze her.

"Bésame, por favor" murmurs Ona.

Obviously, Lucy oblige and quickly breaks the few inches existing between their lips. Soft and tender at first, the kiss deepens when Ona raises her hand to place it on Lucy’s cheek and keep it longer against her.

A few minutes later, Ona had turn around in Lucy’s arms to sit on her lap, causing them both to lose their balance when Lucy slips into the tub and finds herself lying on her back.

When their laughter ends up interrupting, their glances plunge into each other. One arm holding her firmly against her, Lucy gently pushes back a long strand of brown hair behind Ona’s shoulder.

"You may decide not to take care of yourself, but count on me to make sure you do, Ona. And you can also count on me to take care of you. And you can talk to me if you need to, you don’t have to do all by yourself. I’m here for you that’s what a relationship is about to. Let me be there for you."

What’s the answer to that? Ona, who is still struggling to realize that her celebrity crush is sincerely and deeply infatuated with her, finds herself suddenly without knowing what to say. But, luckily, Lucy to find all the words she can’t pronounce in her beautiful chocolate eyes.

"I’m so in love with you"

Ona’s confession, pronounced no higher than a murmur is however perfectly understandable in the tranquility of the bathroom. Only the lapping of the water is audible, adding to the serenity of the moment.

"I’m in love with you too" whispers Lucy in return, smiling, before stretching her neck a few centimeters to capture once again Ona’s lips with hers.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #ona batlle #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle

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thatbitchery · 9 months

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BOUNDARIES 101; WHAT ARE THEY, WHY YOU SHOULD HAVE THEM AND HOW TO HAVE THEM

A boundary is the line of discontinuity where the rest of the world stops and you begin, simply put. It's the line that says: past this point, you don't matter, I do. That's that. In this way we can classify a boundary as a definition of who you are/ self.

A boundary is more 'yes' than it is 'no' . We easily express the no ( don't talk to me that way) but at the root of it is the yes desire (talk to me with respect). Boundaries are more about desire than restriction. They're more of expressions of the self than a restriction of the other. Stay with me here, I'll get to that point real soon.

Contrary to popular belief, a boundary is not verbal. It's energetic. This is the one point I want you to walk away with from this entire post. You can miss the rest but this. This. One. Here. You do NOT verbally express a boundary, you energetically draw it. This is the takeaway here babe. This right here.

Let me put it this way: you can not tell someone what they can or can not do. Why? Because this is an infringement of free will and NOTHING. Absolutely NOTHING in this planet will cause you to face more resistance and friction than telling a free being what restrictions it must face. You're not being 'strong and powerful' when you tell someone to not speak to you that way you're causing friction and opening the door to a lot more disrespect than there once was.

Take this scenario. That guy at your office that was better off unborn. Every time he opens his mouth you burn with pity for that one poor lady that really spent nine months creating this thing. That Mr Red pill, you know? Youre in a meeting and you say something intelligent that reminds him hes actually dumb so he says something like 'hey sweetheart can you make me a cup of coffee?' With a smirk. The rest of the office laughs, it's just funny you know? Two ways this could go.

1. You tell him it's not funny. "Hey listen Chad that's misogynistic as fuc don't talk to me like that" so Chad raises his hands in mock surrender and goes "whoaaaa I didn't meannanything by it, just a joke. Man, these raging feminists, not everything is misogyny Sarah learn to take a joke, Christ". Now the meeting is ruined for you. You go into an argument that gets shut down in favor of the meeting. Walking out there's two groups of people, on your side and on his side, and now that you've marked a target on your back you know for a fact you'll be the recipient of microaggressions and snide remarks, suddenly work feels so so heavy.

2. You look him straight in the eye and keep talking. You completely ignore that remark and move on. He makes one more move and you ignore him completely, moving on. It's like he doesn't even exist. After the meeting he runs after you to try and act apologetic but you know it's a drama trap, so you stop and turn to him. He's talking but you're staring at his forehead. Then neck. Then shirt. And I mean with absolutely no emotion, no disdain, no approval, just blank staring. He's still talking, you look at his shoes, back to his forehead. He's still going on and you say "work to do" and go back to your desk. That's the last time you speak to him unless you have to, and when you do have to it's three sentence words, straight unwavering eye contact, NEVER forget to stare at that forehead (manipulation 101 beechez) and tilt your head. When your eyes meet glaze your sight like you couldn't be bothered. Before He's done you walk out or move to the next person. You give him no second you dont have to, whatever silly rumors he starts you shrug off, you talk to him with your back up straight and no facial express, like he's nothing (because I mean. He's nothing)

Which one of those two do you think works.

You. Can . Not. Tell a person what they can or cannot do. Back when I thought I had boundaries and I'd tell every Mary and John what they can and can not do to me all I met was "oh my gooooddddd wow you're so conceited if you think I put all that energy into disrespecting you oh my goooood it's not that deep ohmigauuuud girl get over it oh my God so I'm the bad guy now wuh wuh wuh" and walked out of those conversations with more friction and resistance than solutions feeling guilty as hell and even lost some valuable people. You. Just. Can't. You'll shoot yourself in the foot.

So how do we express our boundaries ladies? Energetically. When you decide for yourself no one should come to your house unannounced don't even open the door. My mother does this. She'll be inside just chilling and after you call she'll answer "you should have said you're coming! I wasn't expecting a visitor today so I was busy!" And that's all you get. No apology. No rescheduling. Next time. Call. [Queeeen behavior].

Boundaries have more to do with what you will do than what the other person can and can not do. Once more you can't tell a person what to do, so your boundary is your "if....then" plan. If someone speaks to me in a way I don't like that's the last time I speak to them unless I have to until an apology is delivered and they earn me back. If my bf doesn't call or speak to me all day I'm not speaking to or calling him until there's a bunch of flowers, poetry and restaurant reservation for an apology and an actual apology and it's two strikes and I'm out. If my parents do not respect my choices they don't get to be a part of said choices, the good or bad or in between. If my friends gossip about someone else they lose access to my personal information or life because once a gossip always a gossip. If. . . Then. A boundary without attached consequence is a joke.

If you don't know what boundaries to set there are three ways you can go about it.

1. Visualize the woman you're hoping to become. Who is she. What are her ways. What boundaries do you think she has?

2. Discomfort and pain. Most boundaries are inborn. Since we are born with the 'self' it comes with its own definition/ lines and if there was no socializing process we would still have them but for the sake of fitting in our social groups a lot of us had to give them up (I'm looning at you people pleasers) . If you have lost touch with yours listen to your Discomfort. What's on the other side of that is your desire and the line between is your boundary. Eg; you don't like how that man was looking at you. You have a boundary against sexualization. Okay, the next time someone sexualizes you, what's the consequence they face?

3. Off your head what boundaries do you want. The problem with this method is we express our trauma more than boundaries. I was hurt by someone in this way so this is my boundary. Being that a boundary is an expression of the self to base it on your pain is a betrayal to the self, but until you get back in touch with your self this works. Off head. What do you want.

The reason we have boundaries is to safeguard ourselves , or, our SELF from corrosion, dilution and diffusion. If you're in a constant state of fear, pain, anxiety, fight or flight you need more boundaries, your SELF is in jeopardy and given that life is literally structured about your SELF do I need to explain why it must be protected at all costs? Negative emotion is a good indicator of a boundary crossed. Those things that hurt your soul, those. Keep them OUT of your lines.

You have to train the people around you to respect your boundaries by a shift in your energy that they FEEL and they have to jump through hoops, go above and beyond to get back into your good graces or lose you for life. You must be willing to upset and lose people in safeguard of your best interests, and if the person is irreplaceable even just temporarily eg your boss, you must shift your energy subtly enough that they feel it but softly enough that you have enough time to plan a soft exit without getting fired.

Telling people what to do will bite you later, don't bother. You train people with reward and punishment in the way you regulate your energy, like one trains a dog. Good thing? Neutral and normal. Bad thing? Worship me or die.

Reminder nothing on the face of this planet, in heaven above or hell below or galaxy around is worth betraying your SELF for and keeping up with bullshit is the loudest expression of a lack mindset that says "I'll take what I have because I don't think there is better for me out there", and people can sense this and then you are, in layman's language, royally fucked.

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celaenaeiln · 5 months

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I saw in a panel one time that when Dick revealed his identity to the other Fab Five, Batman happened to catch him right in the middle of it and confronted him about it

Though of course Dick stood his ground verbally, stating his trust in them after what they’ve been through.

You think that might’ve played into the long arc of Bruce and Dick having differences between them emerge as Dick grew older and more distant from being that chipper partner Bruce could have by his side?

The Titans (1999) Issue #42

The Titans love Dick's independence but Bruce hates it.

I think you're mostly right but I think it's not so much of differences as it is freedom and self-governing.

Nightwing (1996) Issue #134

The thing about Dick's robin, Dick has always been a little too good to just be Batman's sidekick. Too good at fighting, too good at detectiving, too good at being an equal, a partner.

Batman/Scarecrow Issue #1

He can read Bruce's mind like he's eating candy. He's used to Bruce letting him do whatever he wants, but now all of a sudden, Bruce is telling him what to do and what he can't do. It's getting on Dick's nerves that one second he had all the freedom in the world and now Bruce thinks he can't do what he's so used to.

Dick think Bruce's sudden distrust in him is because he thinks Dick can't keep up or that he's doubting his skills somehow. So he starts acting out. What he doesn't understand is Bruce isn't doubting his competence, he's being protective. After a decade Bruce has finally realized that it's too dangerous for a child to be going around doing the things he has been doing, so it's not a reflection of Dick's abilities, but increased self-awareness and responsibility that Bruce has gained.

And this is what causes the friction.

The resolution of Dick's earlier conflict is this-

Nightwing (1996) Issue #135

Dick is fully capable of holding his own, of solving his own mysteries, and fighting his own cases. But Bruce believes that because he's too young to be at that level. So Dick sets an ultimatum. While Dick was looking forward to it like a kid waiting for his 18th birthday, Bruce was counting down the days like Doomsday Clock, dreading the moment. At finally when it was time, he made his move first because it's easier to fault the other person always.

It's not their differences really that caused them to fall apart. Their difference is what caused Bruce to love him. He loved that Dick was such a joyful, energetic, and eager child. It fear that turned into protectiveness that turned into control which soured their later relationships.

While Dick may have been excited and ready about becoming his own hero, Bruce ruined the moment because he didn't want to let go. That's partly why I think their later years were so tumultuous. They both knew what was coming, they just had different ideas of it.

He was mad that Dick ran away the first time, so how do you think he's going to react with the knowledge that Dick is going to officially leave him? Hence the firing.

You know in hindsight, this is probably another reason why Bruce will forever hate the Titans. He probably thinks they're the reason Dick's turned away from him and he hates that.

#dick grayson #robin dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #cl paladin of nerd fandom65 asks #thanks for the ask!#titans as family #roy harper #arsenal

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the-wip-project · 4 months

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SloMo WriNo: The Writing Habit

You’re going to get tired of hearing me say this, but when it comes to finishing your writing (or getting pretty much any long term project accomplished) habit is everything.

A solid writing habit will get you through those days when writing feels boring, when you’re tired, uninspired, lost. Habit is the magic that makes the writing train go— more often than most people want to admit.

That said, establishing a new habit can be fiendishly difficult— especially if you have a neurodivergent brain. (This is coming from personal experience, as someone who took literal years to establish the habit of brushing my teeth before bed. (I still frequently have agonies about washing my face at the same time.))

So. How to establish a solid writing habit?

Step one is finding the time.

Your writing does not require large blocks of time. You can write productively in as little as fifteen minutes a day (yes, really!) but the only way that gets accomplished is by making it fast and simple to get into your writing headspace.

How though?

By making it a routine at a similar time and place each day, by creating rituals that cue you that it’s writing time, or by attaching your writing to another established habit. Ideally your writing habit will combine all three.

Yes, flexibility is important, because every routine has variations in it, so being able to write even when you don’t have everything just right is important. But if in the past you’ve struggled to keep writing as a consistent part of your life, then creating a routine is the best first step to creating a habit.

Connecting your writing to another, enjoyable habit is good first step. Writing while you take your morning coffee break, or during your headphones on commute time, or along side your lunchtime treat might be all you need to create a positive association. You want writing time to be something you look forward to, not dread.

By keeping the session short (Somehow setting a timer for a number less than thirty makes even the most scary tasks feel approachable for me.) and adding something pleasant and relaxing to the mix you can start to build that positivity. I think this is why so many writers like to write with a cup of tea, or in coffee shops. Adding a delicious beverage habit cues your mind that this is writing time, and what’s more, that writing is a pleasant time taken just for one’s self.

It also makes a huge difference to write at a time when your brain feels good.

I have tried writing later in the evening, and every moment feels like work. My brain is tired, and all I want to do is relax, not think. It feels like I’ve already used up all my energy and motivation.

Instead I like to wake early to write. This might sound like torture for all you night owls, but for me, (and plenty of other people) writing has become a keystone to healthy morning habits. Knowing that I’m going to wake by 5am in order to write is an incentive for me to be in bed by 9:30, (instead of staying up late to doom scroll, eat junk food and make other poor decisions) which helps me wake up with the right level of brain activity to write, which then makes me energetic enough to head out on my morning run directly after writing. Which means all the ideas from my writing session float around in my head in a pleasant soup, distracting me from the monotony of feet hitting ground. It’s a string of positive associations that keeps me happy and healthy.

For you the opposite might be true. Perhaps you find yourself in a peaceful writerly head space after the rest of your household is asleep, or while taking a break at work or school. The key is to find a time and/or place that’s low friction, when the obstacles to writing are less, when getting to your keyboard (or notebook if you’re old-school) feels less like work and maybe even like a reward, and then build out other positive associations around it.

If you’re used to viewing writing as something painful and difficult this might seem alien to you. So let me just add this: your words are not worth more because you were miserable when writing them. It’s not only okay to enjoy your writing time, it’s preferable. Sure you’ll connect a bit less to the writing is misery memes, but it’s worth it, I promise!

So, here is your assignment for the week: Take a look at your schedule and figure out what times might be convenient for regularly scheduled writing. And then try them out and see if you can find a time and place where writing feels good. You might have to move some other activities around to find that sweet spot, (like me, moving my bed time to allow morning writing time) and expect some stalls, some fails and lack of consistency. It’s not going to feel good all the time immediately, and you will need to will power your way through at times. But overall, once you can start forming that positive habit, the writing will become far easier to get to. And much more enjoyable when you do.

—Maree

Subscribe to my substack to make sure you don't miss a post, chat with me on the WIP Project discord, and tag any posts you make about the challenge with #slomowrino if you want me to see them!

#slomowrino #writing advice #writing as a habit

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gloryy-vs · 1 year

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Stress Reliever

stepbro!ao’nung x reader

characters are of age. NOT related. tw/cw stepcest

do not continue if you’re not okay with stepcest or NSFW with step-siblings.

You laid inside your Marui pod, your stomach pressing against the woven mat as you laid on your back. Your fingers weaved the necklace intricately, excited with how it was coming along. You shoved your hand into the carved box that your stepfather Tonowari made for you as a welcoming gift, taking out another pearl as you entwined it with the thin but sturdy waxed over seagrass.

Your ears flicked back at the sound of yelling, and the horn blowing from outside. The hunting party has returned. Your stomach fluttered, thinking about one particular warrior who you had a more than forbidden relationship with. If you could even call it that. Both of you were consumed with lust for each other, but the way he whispered sweet words into your ear from the night before he left had you hoping for more than just a fuck buddy. You shook your head, making the lewd thoughts of your stepbrother scurry away.

Placing your half-finished neckpiece down, you stood up, tail swaying back and forth as you could hear his energetic laugh of success from outside. You pushed the flap open, your figure leaning against one of the thicker pods as your hands went behind your back. Your eyes were trained on him, and he knew it. He looked up at you, eyes dark with sexual craving. The need to feel your heat tighten around him as you moaned his name. You squirmed under his far gaze, heart beating as you thought of how he’d take his stress out on you. That was his exact plan.

He instructed the other hunters, advising them to finish placing down all their captured food, as he had other matters to attend to. Ao’nung went straight to your pod, looking around to make sure his father or your mother weren’t around. Grabbing your arm, he shoved you inside and tightly closed the flaps, tying them down to prevent unwanted visitors. You fell back onto your blankets from his aggressive nature, body squirming away from him. He loved seeing you so vulnerable, trying to run away from the inevitable. You wanted it just as bad as he did, but you knew it would be rough today.

“Where my favorite stepsister?” He said slyly, dropping to his knees in front of your spreading legs whilst undoing his loin cloth

You let out a soft gasp, seeing his already rock hard cock spring out from the sight of you. You ripped off your own covering, lifting the necklace that covered your nipples over your head.

“I’m your only stepsister.” His eyes were on your breasts, trailing down to your pulsing cunt.

“The only one I fucking need. Bring that pussy over here.”

You, scooted closer to him, his tip pressing against your needy clit. You bit your bottom lip from the sensation, softly rutting your hips against his leaking member.

Ao’nung didn’t like that, gripping onto your hips tightly and raising them up to keep you away. “Don’t be needy, I’ll dick you down when you can learn to be fucking patient.” He hissed, letting go do your hips.

His hands wrapped around his cock pumping slowly while he gazed at your expose body. His chest heaved as he tightened his hand around his member.

“Gonna watch me jack to that pretty pussy, right baby?” He said breathlessly, eyes hooded while he threw his head back. “Tell me how much you want it.”

You whined, wanting to pleasure yourself as well. You knew it would only land you in trouble with him. You rutted against the air, hoping for some kind of friction. “I need it. Oh Eywa, I need you inside of me, fill me with your seed please.”

He flashed his signature smirk, still pumping his cock. His stomach twitched harshly, and you cried out, seeing that he was nearing his release, and it wouldn’t be inside of you.

He quickly pulled his hand away, groaning from the loss of pressure. He had edged himself to hear your cries of desperation. Ao’nung spread your legs harshly, forcing himself inside of you. He usually never used foreplay with you, noting how you were already slick just from the thought of him. You moaned, hands gripping at his forearms that were keep him propped up above you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him in closer to you.

“How does it feel baby? Getting all wet for your stepbrother.” He asked, sighing as he pressed into you, pulling out slowly and shoving himself back inside quickly.

Your back arched, feeling his tip graze against that particular spot in your soft walls. Your eyes rolled back as he bang his slow thrusts, teasing you before he let the frustration and stress from his earlier hunt party ride to the surface.

“Fuck, I love this pussy. Feels so warm n’tight.” Ao’nung took his hand, guiding it down to where you two were joined and rubbed soft circles on your clit, feeling you tighten around him in response.

You mewled, tail swaying madly underneath you. Your eyes spoke volumes, begging him to quicken the pace.

“Shh, gotta be quiet. Can’t let my dad know i’m fucking his wifes daughter.” He said, clamping a hand over your mouth.

A grin was plastered on his face, and he began to rut into you in an animalistic way. No regard for your hands clawing at his hand to release your mouth. All your moans came out muffled, eyes rolling back while your legs that were once wrapped around him fell limp at his sides. Ao’nung grabbed your left leg, flinging it over his shoulder allowing him to hit at a new angle.

A muffled shriek tried to escape your lips, continuous patterns of moans failing to be fully heard as the hand on you mouth only pressed down harder. All the anger and irritation from hunting was being taken out on your small body, and he was loving every second. The warm, welcoming feeling of your cunt as he buried into you, just barely grazing your cervix each time. His cock was filling you, filling that desire and need for him. It also fueled the ever growing knot in your stomach, his tip now pressing against the sensitive spot inside of your vagina. A new feeling grew inside of you, specifically targeting your clit.

You shook your head, feeling your vagina tighten against him coarsely. It was sudden for him too, showed by the strained looked on his face from the pressure. Shock replaced the strain, and he chucked to himself, seeing you squirt all over his pelvic bone. The fluids aided in his thrusts, allowing his to slide into you effortlessly.

“Fuck that was hot, do it again baby. Do it for your brother.” Ao’nung teased, angling himself to tower over you, his hips slamming against the backs of your thighs. It was sure to leave dark marks.

Shaking your head, you didn’t believe that you could do such a thing again. He kept your mouth covered, gripping onto your cheeks angrily.

“Do it again, or you’re not getting bred. I know you can do it.” Ao’nung threatened, knowing you adored the feeling of his hot cum drip out of you.

Tears pricked at your eyes, falling down your cheeks and down to your ears from the bouncing your body was forced to do. You concentrated, feeling his hand dip to your clit again and rub aggressively, trying to force the squirt out of you. You chest heaved, twitching and shaking as you felt both knots come undone completely. Your body wasn’t prepared for the wave coursing through. Your stepbrothers thrust turned to slams into your cunt, seeing the white cream pool at the base of his cock more and more each time he pulls out just to bury himself back in.

His hand released your mouth, only for it to be trapped by his own lips. His tongue entangled itself with yours, biting at your lower lip with his sharp canines. He pulled away, a small bit of drool falling down your chin. Now it was his turn, his balls feeling tight as you milked his cock. Ao’nung’s cum filled inside of you, the warm feeling spreading inside of you. He took deep breaths, halting as he kept himself pressed into you. He remained this way, pulling you back into him when you tried to back away.

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re gonna have my baby, gotta make sure that cum stay in.” He said breathlessly, rubbing soothing circles on your hips before he finally, but slowly pulled out.

Ao’nung grazed his finger against the hole he finished abusing, scooping up the small dribble of cum that dared to leave your body. He forced his finger into your mouth, feeling your tongue lap around it to taste the tangy cream.

“Such a good girl, you did so good for me baby.” Ao’nung said, brushing the curly hair that stuck to your forehead softly.

You laid there, legs closed together as your mind wandered. It was so wrong, but felt so right.

#avatar way of water #avatar #ao’nung x reader #nelzomies cave #stepcest cw #stepbro!aonung x reader #stepbro!aonung

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howaboutcastiel · 2 years

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Two Steps Forward (Moon Boys)

[18+ content minors leave please]

Summary: A fun night with Jake ends up backfiring as Marc is triggered to front mid-coitus.

Content: Smut-ish, Angst, Fluff (the holy trinity). Handcuffs, impact play, getting triggered during sex, yelling and sad times. Reader is in an established relationship with moon boys.

Word count: 1.9k (aka the closest to a drabble you’ll ever see from me)

A/N: honestly this shouldn’t exist but now it does. Read it and weep. Also google cleared all of the formatting so UGH may be some mistakes.

“You’re going to stay still for me, right, baby?” You ran your knuckles along Jake’s bare chest, causing his breath to shudder.

“Yes.” He nodded, breathless. You could see him resisting the urge to pull against the cuffs, which were looped in each corner of the headboard.

“Yes…what?” You were straddling his waist, his boxers still on though he was painfully hard underneath. Jake had begged you to overpower him like this. He was so goddamn tired of having to use force to get what he wanted. That didn’t mean, though, that he was going to give into you without causing some trouble.

He knew what you wanted him to say, but he simply smiled at you, his mouth shut in a thin, cheeky line. You ground your hips into him, putting indirect friction on his poor, desperate cock. Jake let out a choked moan.

“I’m not touching you if you don’t cooperate.” You removed your hands from his chest, placing them on your thighs clearly in his line of sight. You were wearing a matching set of lacy lingerie, and you had no intention of taking anything off until you’d done at least a half-decent job of pulling him apart. “Yes what?”

“Yes ma’am.” He said through gritted teeth. This dynamic wasn’t entirely new to you, but Jake just kept insisting that you get rougher and rougher. He got off on being knocked down a peg, enjoying the pain and even pushing you to involve some danger. You struggled to keep up sometimes, but it was exhilarating to see him fall apart beneath you, so you obliged his requests.

“You gonna beg for me, baby? Gonna tell me what you want?” You ran a teasing finger along the fabric of his boxers, causing his cock to twitch underneath. On particularly energetic nights, Jake really liked to be a brat, forcing you to be more aggressive and truly humble him with everything you had. You could tell that tonight was one of those nights, by the familiar unhinged look in his eyes if nothing else.

“No, ma’am.” The self-assured smile wasn’t leaving his face. Jake had had a rough couple of days and he was desperate to use his violent, erratic compulsions for something that would be beneficial to him—like blowing off some steam with his devoted girlfriend. This was ironically enough the healthiest outlet that he could find.

“That doesn’t work too well, does it, baby? You know that’s not what I want to hear.” You grabbed his face in your hand, pinching his cheeks so that his lips pouted out, effectively getting rid of that cheeky grin. Fire flashed in his eyes at the intensity of your grip; if it was up to him, you’d be holding tight enough to leave a bruise.

“Here’s what you’re going to do for me. You’re going to be a good boy and tell me everything you want me to do to you, okay? I want you to be very specific, don’t leave anything out, and don’t forget to use your manners.” In your own head, you didn’t feel that you were that domineering, but the movement underneath Jake’s boxers was evidence enough that you’d gotten your point across.

“Oh, sweetheart,” his laugh was hoarse and patronizing despite his bondage and lack of leverage. He really wanted you to be as riled up as he was, and he wanted to push you into feeling all the meanness that he was asking you to unleash on him. “You know I don’t beg.”

It took a second for you to think of the right way to respond.

“Sweetheart, huh?” His eyes were brimming with satisfaction. As much as he wanted you to have control of him, he also wanted to make you take it. That’s what you were going to do.

“Someone needs a lesson in respect.” Your hand collided with his face with enough force to leave a red mark, but not much else. You knew that was what he wanted you to do—Jake had been very thorough in communicating his limits with you—but the contact shocked him nonetheless. You expected him to twitch again between your legs, but the response you got was far from your assumption.

The shock on his face was replaced by a distant stare. You thought for a split second that Jake might be on the verge of sub-space, but the tension in his body disproved that theory. He shut his eyes for a moment and you dove off of his waist, ready for him to utter his safeword. When they opened again, his eyes were filled with confusion and, to your surprise, fear.

“What the hell?” Marc mumbled as he tried to process where he was. He pulled harshly against the cuffs, hissing when he realized he was restrained by the metal.

“Marc—” You reached to cup his face in your hand, a sign that everything was okay. He cowered from your touch, panicked.

“Get away from me!” He planted his feet against the mattress, pushing himself against the headboard. There were tears in his eyes and he pulled against the cuffs again, though he knew the struggle was no use.

“Hey, it’s okay,” You tried to make your voice as calm as possible as your hand made contact with his skin. It was meant to be a comforting touch, but he jerked his head away to the best of his range of movement, a tear running down his cheek.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He was trying to make his voice firm, but it wavered around a sob that ripped up from his chest. His whole face and neck flushed red, and he tried to curl up as much into a ball as was possible in his position.

Your mind was racing and you didn’t know what to do. A switch had never happened during sex before—or during foreplay, technically. The boys were pretty good at keeping that part separate, there wasn’t overlap that would bring another of them to the front. Though you were in a relationship with all three of them, sex was distinct with each one and there wasn’t usually a grey area for things like this to occur.

“I’m going to take the cuffs off, okay?” You spoke slowly. He didn’t meet your gaze or even acknowledge that he had heard your words. You tried not to move too suddenly as you leaned to grab the key from the side table. Careful not to touch his skin, you unlocked the pair of cuffs closest to you.

He didn’t say anything as he brought his hand to his chest. When the other pair was unlocked as well, he rubbed the angry skin absentmindedly. Tears continued to roll down his cheeks, though he wasn’t sobbing. His eyes were unfocused, staring right through the wall.

“Honey, I’m sorry.” You started shyly. You didn’t know what to do or what to say. Hell, you didn’t even know what had happened. Marc must have known about Jake’s more untraditional likes and dislikes in the bedroom, but he himself was much more vanilla. It must have been overwhelming to him.

“I didn’t realize you were close to the front. Do you need me to get you something, honey? Some water, or some lotion for your wrists?” He didn’t say anything. After an entire minute, he finally met your gaze. He wore a pathetic, confused, and dreadful look. He looked so small.

“Did you hit me?” His voice was tiny. It was dripping with betrayal as well as bewilderment. You couldn’t find your own voice to respond, and you had to swallow hard before your breath would even leave your chest.

“I, umm…” How would you explain this? You’d figured Jake had touched base with the boys, what with all the bruises you’d left on him previously after a night of fun. “Jake was back-talking me. It was part of our scene. I—I slapped him.”

Marc put his head in his hands, sucking in a deep and shaky breath. His wrists were raw from his fighting of the cuffs, as if he genuinely thought he was captive for the first moments after he came to the front. You felt guilt running through you, though you couldn’t have known this would happen.

“I’m so sorry.” He muttered into his palms. You moved closer to him, though you respected his earlier request not to touch him. His hands curled into fists and he tugged at his hair frustratedly. “I ruined your night.”

“Hey, no! You didn’t ruin anything.” You leaned to pull a throw blanket from the foot of your bed, offering it to him as he tried to steady his breath. “Is there something I can do to help? I must have given you a pretty good scare.”

He looked pained as another sob washed over him. It was unusual for you to see Marc so torn apart—especially when you didn’t exactly know what was wrong with him. His hands covered his face again as he curled into himself even tighter. He mumbled something you couldn’t understand.

“What’s that honey?”

He looked up at you, shame and dread mixed together on his face. Marc was embarrassed and, despite his understanding of the situation now, he was still scared. He swallowed a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, pondering if he should repeat himself. Finally he opened his mouth while avoiding your gaze.

“I thought you were my mom.”

An ice cold feeling shot up your spine, replaced quickly by nausea. Now you felt really guilty, and you abandoned your promise to keep your hands off of him. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling him shake as another sob ripped through him.

“No, baby. You’re safe. You’re here with me.” The words fell from your mouth intuitively. Marc didn’t request a lot of nurturing, but you would be stupid to think that he didn’t require it. He tried to put on a brave face in his day-to-day life, but situations like this revealed to you just how much he was in need. “No one’s here but me and you. You’re safe.”

“It’s pathetic.” He sounded resigned, letting the sobs take over but not feeding into them. “I feel like a little kid.”

“It’s okay to feel like that. What’s important is that that little kid is safe. There’s no one here that wants to hurt him.” Marc didn’t like to talk about his past, but it tended to bring itself to the forefront of conversation at the most inopportune of times. He needed someone to do the talking for him.

You coaxed him into laying down, effectively making him the little spoon as you kept yourself pressed against his back. You could feel his body starting to calm down, the tension slowly being replaced with a desperate receptiveness to your touch.

“I’m sorry.” He said again through a more resigned sob. Marc felt guilty for making a scene in front of you. He hated to burden you with his brokenness.

“Please don’t apologize, okay? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You held him for a long while, whispering affirmations of “you’re okay” and “you’re safe” for the first few minutes until the panic subsided. After that, the two of you laid in near-silence until his breathing returned to something near a normal rhythm.

#moon knight #marc spector #jake lockley #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #oscar isaac #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #moon knight smut #masterlist

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diluclover300 · 2 months

Text

Just One Week (7)

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

also posted on my ao3 account: diluclover300

CHAPTER INDEX:

I H8 U

My Kinda Fun

Balance

{S] Awake

Eggs and Rice

Wait, but I'm broke

Couple's Discount

CHAPTER 7: Couple's Discount

...

Satoru is beyond ecstatic, his vision sticky and gooey at the insane amount of silks and wools carefully hung and displayed. There's a catalog of clothes, an array of expensive clothes. Top-tier luxury brands, ones you'd catch celebrities sporting like a pair of pajamas at the local airport. Ones that he can caress between the delicate friction of his fingers as a warm smile spreads across his face like butter on toast. Oh, how lucky he is.

To reunite with his long-lost friend, whom he spent years tracking down, whom he was able to convince into allowing this moment to blossom into reality. He feels like a kid in a candy store, ogling at each piece of fabric, at each suit jacket and pant. And how tempting the sight is, how it tempts him to envelope himself in pure greed like a creature of sin.

The assortment of colors, the breathtaking pigments, the unique textures of each cloth...

The excitement is so wonderful, so captivating that he doesn't even begin to notice the woman greeting him at the door. He takes off like a rocket ship, roaming around the men's section. A maze that he hasn't ventured in, yet one that feels familiar and natural to navigate through pure instinct.

This must be heaven.

"I think he, uh... I'm so sorry if he causes trouble." You half-groan, head threatening to hang low at Gojo's energetic aura. "Thank you."

The woman nods, a typical response that you'd expect from someone working customer service. You've been in that position before, squeezing out an exhausted smile at something you had no idea how to respond to. Funny enough, your cheeks sting from the muscle memory.

You think to apologize once more, but you refrain, biting your tongue as you dejectedly follow after Gojo. He buries his head in a ring of hung-up clothes, swiping through each shirt like a potential match on Tinder.

"Oh? Do you frequent here often?"

You turn back, confusion overcoming your face.

"No, I've never been, actually." You slowly shake your head, examining the woman for a moment. "Why?"

That low bun of hers wrapped in a red scarf, and that sleek, white uniform doesn't ring a bell. Does she know you?

"Oh, sorry, it's just that your jacket... I couldn't help but notice that it is from our brand."

"Oh," You smile, the interaction as awkward as awkward gets. "That's weird, I never noticed."

You walk away with an understanding nod, fumbling with your lips as you fidget with the black jacket lying in the crook of your arm. Now that you think about it, it does feel like silk, expensive silk at that.

Maybe your memories have faded over the years. It's possible that you snagged this from another one of those annual holiday sales, sort of a bad habit you've accumulated. You always browsed for coats and blazers when no one was around to watch, hunching over that compact cubicle as you frantically refreshed your search engine. Occasionally, when someone would walk past or start conversation, you almost let out a guilty flinch out of fear for getting caught. Almost.

Nonetheless, the suggestion doesn't strike you. There's not a single instance where you, the loyal slave to some measly corporation, could justify the selfish purchase of a fancy coat. A coat was a coat, no matter the price. It would have torn up in that monster of a washing machine you own either. Not to mention the void and guilt that would stem from such an unnecessary purchase.

"Is that my jacket?" Weird. You don't expect it, but you recall the events from this morning. The skeptical look on his rather punchable face.

Your fingers trace over the sewn-in label, mumbling the brand to yourself. Even that leaves a pretentious, bitter taste on your tongue.

Nope, it doesn't ring a bell.

You suppose it's French, and to be honest, you don't have an opinion on the French. There are far more significant matters, at least in your opinion, than some species of European folk. Why would you spend your precious paycheck on such a useless thing?

Everything tells you, everything desperately grasps you by the shoulders and shakes you to your senses. And then you finally uncover the answer as to whether or not you "frequented" such a snobby, stuck-up place.

"I must be remembering things wrong.." Yeah, remembering things wrong, my ass, you think.

He lied. Oh dear, you really tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.

And that certain white-haired culprit is currently nowhere to be seen. Quite frankly, you have no idea where you are either. You've lost yourself in the garden of consumerism, swarmed by the amount of clothes and designer bags laying in front of you. A landfill for the rich, you call it.

But it's peaceful for a bit as it is overwhelming. You're oddly calm when you take in the privilege of Gojo's absence, as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. A heavy one at that.

Five years was, and is too short, much too measly of a distance. If you had it your way, if the Earth rotated to the drumming of your feet, then you would have never known the words "Gojo Satoru". His face would have been an imaginative blur, those eyes nothing but a mere gaze, and those memories would become one of the infinite "what-ifs" of this universe.

And if you ran into him on a fateful spring day?

You would have abandoned destiny a long time ago, parted ways like ex-lovers. The occurrence would leave you as you were.

Still, steady, and normal.

These three values would have stuck with you, through thick and thin. But which one was it? You don't know what to call this incident. Was this the thick? Or was this the thin?

You wonder, mull over it for a bit before you're chained back into the prison of his presence. It's a game of push and pull.

This punishment of a game.

"Yo! Over here, Y/N." You look up from the leather jacket folded on the display shelf below you, eyes hooked onto that raised hand of his.

You seem to be on the receiving end, on both sides of that hellish spectrum.

"Okay." You make your way over to "here", that sigh of yours halted. You have something to ask him anyways, something about that jacket of his.

His hand is still held up high in the air while the rest of his body entangled in a rack of clothes. Stupid is as stupid does.

His and Hers, You regrettably read and fully understand the sign hanging overhead from the ceiling, along with the bolded words: NEW Spring Collection.

"Did you find something?" You only ask as a precaution, monitoring his spending habits. An awful habit that solely relied on you and you only for support.

That hand of his flails around before sinking down into the sea of clothes before him.

"You're here?" His hands scour and fish into the abyss, voice muffled into the ridiculous amount of suits and dresses stuffed in his face. "I'm surprised-"

A groan follows, the sound of plastic material ringing against his skull. A sound that you would have ignored because it seamlessly blended into the rapid snare of the radio-pop tune playing on the store's speakers. You could have paid it zero mind if not for the sheer amount of second-hand embarrassment that ensued from your witness of the scene.

"Careful there," You sneer, watching as his back contorts like a gymnast. "The higher-ups wouldn't want you to come back a complete moron."

Satoru chuckles, scrambling once more before putting an end to his short-lived visit to Narnia.

"I'm thankful for the concern." There's an array of clothes folded over his arm, and oh, does the sight worry. "Please continue to take great care of me, Y/N."

You give him a strange look, your lips curling in disgust. By no means were you concerned about him, worried about this bafoon of a man.

"You're dumb." It's a conclusion you should have come to earlier, really.

"Remind me," Satoru's gaze trails off into the air before landing on you. "Who was the one that lost to me last night?"

You're stumped, mouth opening before it shuts again. That unlucky "who" was you, the loser.

Gojo takes your defeat as an opening, a chance.

"Wanna try this on?" A dress is shoved into your face, along with that cheeky smile of his that peeks behind the cloth.

Your attention darts from Gojo to the pink, girlish dress.

The long-sleeves are puffed just by the slightest bit, and the material a bit translucent until you notice that there (thankfully) is a white cloth underneath to keep yourself covered. Your eyesight was just playing tricks on you. Okay, a bit of decency, you appreciate it. However, you think the skirt is just a little too short, but the sweetheart neckline does look kind of gorgeous, you'll admit.

"Whaddya think?" He reveals more of that hidden smile of his behind the blinding cloth, along with his now enlarged starry eyes. You don't take that as a good sign, it's more of warning. "Hm?"

Emotionally, you don't exactly feel inclined to wear it, nor does the idea entice you. Logically, you can't and don't want to afford a dress you could easily get for way cheaper on the internet. Besides, you'd rather focus on controlling the inevitable loss of your sweet, hard-earned cash if possible. And with the sleek look of the fabric, along with the carefully stitched in details - the item is nothing but a pure fantasy.

You intend to keep it that way.

"No-"

Again.

Again, again, and again! Satoru groans out of pure annoyance. You're using that word again. That boring word, the word which cages him in like a helpless bird, the word which is so draining, so terribly cruel, absolutely inhumane.

No.

How he resents the very existence, the very creation of that word. That word which rolls of your tongue without an ounce of hesitation.

"No?" Satoru interrupts, raising a brow before yanking off his glasses.

"Um.."

When you look into those eyes laced with the pure malice of the devil, your flesh tenses. Your muscles contract, a reaction not one of muscle memory, but one of cold-blooded fear.

"I, um..." Think, think, think! You can't seem to put two and two together no matter how much your brain tells you to.

When his eyes release a frosty residue into the air, when you watch the air melt against him, you lose your resolve. Stripped of it, left with the stubbornness lying underneath.

Telling Gojo Satoru "yes" - you'd rather lie cold in your grave.

"Is it still a no?"

No doubt about it, Satoru notices. Your stubbornness surprisingly (as if he hasn't calculated this reaction) clashes with his want.

Without a single word, you begrudgingly snatch the dress out of his loose grasp, eyes searching around for the dressing room as you turn on your heel, slumping with each step like a deflated skydancer.

"To your left." Satoru directs, burying the self-conceited excitement down his throat. "You're welcome."

Patience is a virtue, he repeats to himself, over and over as you disappear behind the racks of clothes in front of him.

...

You don't want to.

Oh, you really can't stand the look of it because the feeling this dress evokes in you is criminal. The definition of bi-polar, heck, even multi-polar as the fabric drapes around you.

A part of you, the mature side of you, loathes the sight. You feel girlish, frail, and overly-feminine, like a total joke of a woman. You gaze upon the mirror and shy from it, covering your eyes before you peek through your fingers out of pure embarrassment.

You were well-into your twenties at this point, a young age, but still... weren't you a little too old for this? You can't help but feel that way. With those bags underneath your eyes you look like a princess fresh out of a zombie apocalypse, not some cute, innocent-looking chick. Maybe you look a little fucked-up, honestly. Completely out of place.

Oh, whatever. You lightly squeeze and pick at the skirt, tracing the pleated lines.

There's another part of you as well, and you suppose it's your immature side. The side that pokes through your doubts like a roses' thorn.

It's pretty. You feel kind of special, like an actual princess or some kind of tacky, knock-off Barbie doll. Fluffing your hair, a pit forms in the bottom-left of your stomach, plague pooling up inside of you.

Envy, desire, selfishness begin to settle in. And to think that you strayed, parted ways with these three "friends" years ago. Only now do they make their grand reappearance.

So this is what it's like to be normal, isn't it? You ask yourself, only to receive no answer. Surely, this is what it's like to have the world at your fingertips, to have all your wants and desires served to you in silver platter, right?

You should be jumping up and down right now, squealing like a damn schoolgirl at the idea that you were living out a childhood fantasy of yours.

"It's nice," You mumble, almost as if you're trying to convince yourself to agree. The words don't stick as well as you hoped.

You're jealous, almost angry you've never got to experience something so trivial, so materialistic. Jujutsu training took up more than half of your youth and those high-school memories you so deeply craved only remained a simple dream. A selfish goal you could never achieve no matter which plan or path you took to get there. The consequences of your choices would always haunt you, and you suppose this is one of those instances when you see the faintest image of a little girl. A little girl with a pair of eyes all too similar, with a nose much like yours, with lips of the same nature.

You want to scream when your chest compresses against itself, eyes stinging and reddening.

How tormenting, you would have never imagined your reflection to be one of a burden as your fingers still against the fabric of that dress, lips rolling over each other as a ship sinks to the very bottom of your stomach's oceans.

You remember. You remember it all too well, those years in elementary school. One question stuck with you in particular.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

To first-grade you, that was a simple, easy question. So you churned out an answer with very little thought.

"I want to be happy! Like... forever?"

Hah. Simple.

You think, no, you thought that such a simple, inoffensive wish would allow your life to show you a bit of grace, a bit of fulfillment. You were wrong, damn it, you were so wrong that you let out a choked, cowardly sniffle. The little you wouldn't even want to see you face, she'd rather die than accept her reality-

"Yoo-hoo. It's been ten minutes, you done yet?"

You flinch at his voice, blinking profusely as you touch up your watering eyes. Being sad was one thing, but you were not going to cry around Gojo Satoru. Never.

"Hello-"

You swing the door open, feeling your eyelashes water before you speak. The sound of your voice is stupid as all can be, but what could you do? You were just crying to yourself like the main character in some cheaply-produced Disney movie.

"Hi." You frown, crossing your arms as you feel the wind blow against your bare legs. You don't even want to look at him right now. Why? He's not scary.

It's a silence so thick that follows, so thick that you can't even take in proper breaths from the air that lies between the two of you.

Gojo Satoru stares, and you hate it. You hate that equally thick stare lying behind those glasses of his, seriously. You want to hide away, crawl into a hole when he hums like that, sucking in his lips as he examines you like a zoo animal. You're going ballistic and all you can do is stand there with your arms crossed as a defense. It's insulting because you're aware of how ridiculous the thing looks on you. Insulting because he makes it so obvious that you look like a little girl playing dress-up.

"What?" You say, tone flat. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Oops. He swallows, guilty as charged when he stiffly rubs his neck. Satoru feels like a perv, the memories of that night flooding into the dam of his mind.

No, you're a friend.

Just a friend.

Only a beloved childhood friend of his, so there's no reason that these troublesome fireworks should be going off, bouncing off the barriers of his skin.

"Like what?" He looks away, hands stuffed in his pocket as he occupies his mind with the displays surrounding him. "I wasn't doing a single thing except looking at the dress."

Your lips tremble, and you feel dumb. Super dumb. Maybe it's those leftover feelings from earlier that begin to explode out of you, little by little. You can't seem to stop it, and it's killing you as your armor cracks.

"Is it that bad?" Your voice cracks, and he begins to panic as if he wasn't a nervous wreck before. "Be honest."

"What? Of course it isn't-"

"Stop lying." You let out, eyes burning up into ashes as they redden like cherries. "I mean it."

"Why would I lie? You- you look pretty." Damn it. He's let the cat out of the bag, fingers covering his lips before he decides to just accept his terrible fate.

No, that wasn't- that wasn't what you wanted to hear. You toy with the flesh in your mouth, the skin of your forehead scrunching and bunching up.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no... You shouldn't be mad at him, he was just looking at the dress, he wasn't judging you, you just made him call you pretty. Wait, you're pretty?

You ignore that, your skin crawls at the compliment. You hate it, you hate him, everything about him.

Your eyes are - Ugh. What are you doing?

"Well, it was just because... because.." You stammer, fiddling with the syllables of your words as the image of that particular black jacket appears in your mind.

"Because?" Satoru questions, taking in a deep breath. He feels strange when your eyes swell up like that, so strange that he can't put it into words even if he tried.

"Are you crying?" He doesn't know if he should ask, and he's especially scared of sounding like a total asshole. What if the tears just poured out when he asked? But, it felt too wrong, so wrong to just watch you fume up like this without adressing the elephant in the room-- the warm beads flooding the crevices of your eyes.

"You lied." You use the knuckles of your fingers to pat at the corners of your eyes, breathing in a shaky breath as you do, chest slowly rising. "Why did you-"

Okay, he could understand you were beyond frustrated, but falsely accusing him of lying. Oh, he couldn't stand it, even if it was you pointing fingers at him. Even if it was his dear, beloved friend.

"When did I-"

"Hello, I just couldn't help but notice that dress on you, ma'am. It looks wonderful."

You turn around, looking like a deer in headlights at the saleswoman who probably watched that whole shit-show with front-row seats. Gojo, on the other hand, takes in a sharp breath, rubbing his cheek before acknowledging the fact that they were in public, fighting in public, like a-

"Oh? Are you two a couple? We actually have a His and Her deal going on until the end of this month. Would you be interested?" It's the same woman he accidentally ignored, the same woman who unknowingly directed you to Gojo's lie. She's back, this time to upsell you on products you really don't need and can't afford. You thought you had formed some kind of alliance, but alas, she was just doing her job. Unfortunately, you were her target.

Now this, this was the reason for his visit in the first place. There was no way he was going to leave without purchasing color-coordinated outfits, the same ones he's been anticipating the release of since the beginning of winter. Usually, he'd be the type to despise such a release, one that didn't serve him any purpose, but because of you, and solely because of you he was...

"Yes. We're interested-"

"No-" You protest, the tears drying up against the dry of your eyes.

"We are interested." He grits his teeth at you, pulling you in closer to his side, saving face with a smile as his arm wraps around your uneven shoulders. "There's a matching suit for this dress, right? I saw it in the catalog."

"I-" You try to refuse, but they've already beat you to it. What was this? Your unlucky day?

You've been having a lot of those recently. And this day is no different when his arm sticks you to him like glue, feeling the outline of his body against your hip. You shudder, skin crawling once more at the mutual warmth. His fingers press against the fabric of your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze and pat. You might as well bark and get on all fours like his dog at this point, that was how you felt. Like Gojo Satoru's pet, always at his service.

The woman gives him an eager nod, "I'll get the sets out for you two. Please give me a moment."

Your eyes shoot up at him, and it's an angry look, no doubt. First, your vision traces his fingers that hold you, then at the knowing smile on his face. He knows you hate it, and he's just going to continue this torture of his until he's satisfied. You didn't even have to go through another cycle of defiance only to cower at his Six Eyes. Like a dog, you've been trained into obedience, without a single treat in your bowl or stomach.

In other words, you're at a loss. Advantage-wise, speech-wise, physically-speaking, emotionally-speaking... all of it.

Even though you eye him with such venom when that neutral expression looks back down at you, those beads still linger. You don't know what to make of your own conflict anymore, having a difficult time as the ground fills your line of vision.

"Hey, why did you tell her that?" You whisper-hiss, as if those words were meant to be kept a hidden secret. "Now she thinks we're a couple..."

There they are, Satoru takes notes of those tides as his arm slips from your shoulders. They're clashing, the gritty sand soaking those waves dry.

"Are you okay?" Did he have the right to ask such a question? To show an ounce of his care? Was he allowed to?

"It was for the discount." Is what comes out instead as he widens the small gap between the both of you. Ironically, this much more appropriate response leaves him questioning his own intentions. "Why? Does it bother you?"

No, it shouldn't bother you. It doesn't.

"You ass..." You mutter, hoping that somehow a miracle occurs. One so miraculous that his memories of your vulnerability erase.

However, such miracles never seem to hit you - they miss by a large shot.

"I hate you."

Or maybe they do as Gojo just nods. At least this once as you break contact with him, a comfortable silence settling in.

"The feeling's mutual, don't worry."

Satoru doesn't want to test the validity his words.

"You lied."

That isn't so far off from the truth.

...

"How is it?"

Your reflection is disappointing. The colors that swallow you are lackluster, they trap you.

"I don't like it." What outfit was this again? You lost track.

"Oh, that's too bad. Does it fit?" Satoru crosses his legs, resting in a fancy, maroon velvet armchair.

"...Yes." You answer, rubbing your arm. You're losing.

"What was that?" He tips his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, I just can't hear you."

As if.

"It fits." You speak up, tone numb as you tell him what he wants to hear.

"Good."

This, unfortunately, has been the norm of your conversations for the past two hours. Gojo would pick out an outfit from the spring catalog, force ask you to try it on, then he'd ask for your optimistic opinions which he held zero regard for whatsoever before buying or trashing it.

"Excuse me," He holds up a hand before pointing at you. You blink at this, dread filling you whole. "She'll take this one as well."

You did not say that, but you must be remembering things wrong.

The saleswoman nods. "Of course, sir."

She moves to pack up a fresh set, but quickly presses onto her own breaks when he opens his mouth to command speak once more. Poor thing, you can't help but feel your own foot ache at the amount of times she's had to deal with this.

"Also, I want all the accessories."

"A-all?" She raises both eyebrows, masking her shock with a boxy smile. "Are you-"

"I'm sure." Satoru nods, finally looking at the woman.

"Yes, sir. I'll get started on that right away." She scurries off with such urgency that you'd think she was held at gunpoint.

Your lips flubber as you exhale, taking in your reflection. Today has weirdly been all about you, in the worst way imaginable. You can't seem to catch a break with the absurd amount of haughty-designer outfits thrown onto you. This one in particular was your least favorite.

A blue shirt, reminiscent of those soul-sucking Six Eyes, short-sleeved with a slight puff in the shoulders, adorned with buttons of a similar shade. Though it is soft to the touch, it's more than unbelievable to you that this costs around three-hundred yen. The white lace skirt draped all the way down your ankles is no cheaper either, but a couple hundred yen was like child's play for the rich. Another regular day, nothing new.

Furthermore, Gojo hasn't tried on a single thing. He just assumes he'll like his side of the outfit based on yours, a total gamble of your money.

"Is there anything else...?" You decide to follow routine, but of course, it doesn't work when you finally accept your fate.

"Nah, you can go change now." He rolls his shoulders back before getting back on his feet, the chair as empty as he found it. "I'll be waiting outside, yeah?"

You carefully nod, studying his sudden change in demeanor as he whistles to himself, that stern expression wiped off the surface of his face. Now that was bipolar.

"Okay." You'd hate to send him into another frenzy of playing dress-up with a doll that was more than unwilling because you would also like to move on from whatever this was.

One piece after another, as if you're being timed, you strip down your clothes only to re-dress yourself in your original (work) clothes. Oh, how you long for that nine-to-five lifestyle, how you miss being stuck in that stiff office chair. Today taught you that being rich and ambitious was not for the weak, that you, the weak, suited the likes of a corporate, forty-hour work week. Not this pretend fantasy, this mere illusion.

Right now, you'd do anything to escape this hell-hole of a place and that demon of man.

"Oh," Your hands reach for your jacket- sorry, his jacket.

"You lied."

You forgot to prove your point, the evident truth that Gojo Satoru was a liar.

...

You can't believe it. Not a single bit.

"For the last time, and I say this with all due respect, but your items have already been paid for, ma'am." The bald man at the counter sighs, holding a receipt before you.

You cautiously scan the very long paper, fingers grabbing it's very end as your eyes widen at the total.

"But... but-"

You profusely rub your eyes, blinking over and over. You might as well go into cardiac arrest at the seven bolded digits, grasping the thin receipt between your shaky fingers.

"Correct," His voice cuts through your multiple stammers. "You didn't pay, your boyfriend did, ma'am."

B-boyfriend? Gojo Satoru? That man?

"He didn't, and he's not my-" You don't even get the chance to make your case clear.

"The signature is at the very bottom."

You stuff your face into the very butt of the paper, eyes flickering between the signature line and the uncanny smiley face drawn on top it. What an eyesore.

How in the world did he pay? You chew onto the flakes of your lips, releasing a deep breath from the very depths of your lungs. You were under the impression that Gojo came here with absolutely nothing but himself. And the flowers. You almost forgot those flowers, and you accidentally remember how ugly and spacious they look sitting on the counter of your kitchen island.

"Ah, I... I see now, sorry." You let out an involuntary laugh, shoving the receipt down your pocket. "I'm sorry for taking up your time, let me just-"

You grunt, looping one bag onto your arm after another, the worker behind the counter blankly staring as you visibly struggle. Jeez. Were you the one working customer service or was he?

"Have- Have a nice rest of your day." Somehow you manage to carry all six bags, three on your left and three on your right as you head towards salvation. Which was better known as the exit of this damn place.

"You too, ma'am."

Thanks, you mouth to yourself.

You have a feeling the rest of your day will be anything but nice.

...

#ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #enemies to lovers #eventual smut #fanfic #friends to lovers #romance #archive of our own #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #gojo smut

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starkysa · 4 months

Text

Cesar-Torres

Representative Elements:

Mountain Fire, Flame 【Fire】

Age:

4.5 billion

Personality (Human | Everyday Form):

Energetic and enthusiastic, occasionally a bit flirtatious, prefers to be handsome

Not very good at emotional control, gets excited easily. But it comes and goes quickly, so it'll soon return to its usual cheeky self.

Walking will have a kind of waltz elegant sense

Intro:

[Status Uncontrollable]

The third pair of gods born with the lava ALT-Cesar, in charge of flames and light, and also gave human civilization prosperity after billions of years.

Die fast and live fast, because of the fear of water so often teased by the clouds Jonah, but will also burn each other until evaporation in return.

It may appear when struck by lightning or dry air, hot air, or friction [Provided there are flammable gases].

(In mythic form, Fire Cesar does not disappear by being drenched in water)

Self-luminous

Will change color (if there are different gases burning)

No weight, shadow, but very faint

High body temperature (minimum 80 degrees, no upper limit)

Smoke comes out of the inside of the hat, but not much

If there is a dry object around, the object may spontaneously combust

Mark-Heathcliff

Represents the elements:

Wind, Hurricane, Tornado, Atmosphere 【Winds】

Age:

4.5 billion

Personality (Human | Everyday Form):

Does what he wants, but is also quite stable emotionally

Doesn't like to talk much, prefers to act before explaining

In a way, actually quite talkative, if He's in a good mood

Intro:

[Status Uncontrollable]

The second god to be born after Adam the Rock, he was born from wind and gas, created the original atmosphere and air movement and became the god with the closest range of activity to outer space.

No weight, no shadow.

He moves very fast.

In normal circumstances, his strength is small in nature, but in the case of a tornado, hurricane or typhoon, his strength will become enormous.

Hot and cold winds can cause its body temperature to fluctuate.

Although they appear to have legs, they can't land unless they are in human form.

Because the Prayer Formation is not distributed much on earth, it is the one that is most easily called out

Adam-Murray

Represents the elements:

Rock, Dust, Magnetic Field 【Earth】.

Age:

Unknown (not Earthborn)

Personality (Human | Everyday Form):

Stable and calm, cold-faced but good-tempered.

Extremely patient, can stay still in one place for hundreds of millions of years.

Because his origin is from outer space, he is adventurous, but he is stubborn because he is not a human being and nothing will happen to him, and no one can control him if he really wants to take risks, even though nothing will happen to him.

Because of his destructive power, he is emotionally stable in his daily form.

Intro:

[Controllable Status]

It is the initial birth of the Earth, the original core and magnetic field, guarding the nascent planet, witnessing and nurturing all the gods on the planet

Weight, hardness, color, transparency freely switch

Normally moves very slowly, but can fly by changing its own magnet content to repel the Earth's magnetic field, in which case its flight speed is no slower than that of the Wind God Mark.

Strength depends on the type of rock or sand you have.

Because the body is compressed Earth, rocks on the body cannot be smashed down by external forces. Probably also because it is hard most of the time, other nature gods often come to gnaw on the rock Adam's tail

Possibly because they themselves also represent wealth, they are often summoned, but they don't respond much for the sake of natural balance, but they respond quickly to calls in disaster situations

Jonah-Marshall

Represents the elements:

Clouds, Water, Ice, Thunder 【Water】

Age:

4.5 billion

Personality (Human | Everyday Form):

Cheerful and talkative

A guy who likes to hang out at other people's invocation ceremonies

He cares about those who know him and have a good feeling about him.

Curious and likes to learn about human behavior and objects.

Can be a bit sloppy in human form

Intro:

[State uncontrollable]

The last of the gods to appear, controlling water and lightning, the place where life began.

He opens his eyes in the white clouds

The rain weeps.

Thick dark clouds close his eyes; thin dark clouds squint.

When he appears, the air around him becomes moist.

Because the formation for seeking rain is widely distributed on earth, he is summoned as often as Adam, the rock god, but because he is more playful so in many cases when summoned he is still hanging out in a human state, and all the daily summoning does not come out. But if it is a flood, tsunami and storm to save people or creatures of the disaster situation will be very spiritual.

ALT-Cesar-Torres

Represents the elements:

Volcano, Lava 【Fire】

Age:

4.5 billion

Personality (Human | Everyday Form):

Rakugo person

Quite short-tempered and has a serious history of violent behavior

Often views others with a playful mood

Doesn't like to appear in human form very much, and believes that humans are worthless in the face of nature

Intro:

[Status uncontrollable]

Born at the same time as Cesar, he's like a twin brother.

Believes that disasters are inevitable and necessary, but has some principles so he doesn't cause them blindly.

He prefers to watch the awe and fear of creatures facing nature.

Unlike Cesar, ALT-Cesar cannot be doused with water.

Very heavy and dense

It's slow.

Always covered in a thick layer of volcanic dust and toxic gases like sulfur monoxide.

It leaves lava wherever it walks, and its legs are essentially molten.

On empowerment:

Nature gods have absolute control over the elements they represent

Nature God has the power to wipe out the existence of things that do not belong to this world.

Natural AU Morphology Conversion

【Each form is not absolute; even in mythological forms, they can retain human physiology; there is no energy consumption or time or place limit for form switching】

Human Form:

【This form may appear differently at different times, for example, in the Cretaceous period, they may appear as dinosaurs or plants】

They have all the physiology of a normal human, with the exception of their eyes and unlimited lifespan, and do not age. In this form, they cannot manipulate the elements, but they can do so by switching to another form.

Although they cannot manipulate the elements, they have an inherently higher level of understanding of the natural elements they represent than normal humans.

[Rock Adam in human-like form would be extremely knowledgeable in geography, and would be able to accurately recognize every type of ore and unopened variety of jade and gem)

They can take damage (including natural elemental damage) and have all the emotions of a human, but if the damage is so great that they are judged to be dead, they will switch directly to their original source

[So it is possible for Fire Cesar in human form to die by fire, only to change back to flame after death]

Will not be affected by the pressure of other mythological forms

Will act according to the human style of doing things (including family, love, friendship)

Under normal circumstances, there is only one human form at a time.

Even in their human form, they know they are not human.

Situations where this form appears:

They use this form when traveling on earth.

Everyday Form:

This is the middle state between the human form and the mythological form. It still looks largely human, but can be distinguished from humans by its ears and eyes.

You will only feel the temperature of the elements when you touch them, but you will not be able to touch them directly.

For example, a Fire Cesar in this form has the temperature of a flame, but still feels like a human when touched.

Some natural elements are not controllable.

[For example, Wind God Mark's weight]

They can't activate high-powered natural elemental mobilization, they can only change the natural conditions in an area.

They can only mobilize or instantly move to the element they symbolize.

[For example, Cloud Jonah can only mobilize clouds, rain and thunder]

Can't be harmed, can't die, have unlimited lifespan, and possess some human emotions.

Situations in which this form appears:

This form is the most commonly used state, and may be used when patrolling the earth or trying to mobilize the elements on earth.

Mythic Form:

The form that is closest to the natural origin, the existence of elemental attachment passive, embodied in touching the mythological form is equivalent to touching the natural elements directly in the physical sense.

[For example, you can touch Cesar's fox tail and ears, but touching these parts is equivalent to directly touching real flames]

There is a certain passive power that awakens a sense of awe and fear of nature in all matter.

It retains the characteristics of creatures that humans can understand and relate to nature [e.g. wind is associated with birds].

This form will break through the state limitations, and will be fully transformed into a state-controllable situation, and there is no power limitation on the mobilization of natural elements, freeing up the limitations of elemental mobilization, and can be manipulated globally, and can instantly move to any place where the same element exists.

Manipulate all objects of the element you symbolize.

[For example, Cloud Jonah in his mythological form can mobilize all the water and thunder elements]

As long as nature exists, they will not be injured, will not die, will have an endless lifespan, will have no human emotions, and will act in accordance with the laws of nature.

Can create and reshape natural landscapes, especially with the manipulation of rock Adam

Situations in which this form appears:

If summoned by a believer or formation, they will appear in this form.

This form is also used when all powers and ability status seals are released.

Origin (native form):

Nature itself, in its original form: fire, water, gale, rock.

Cannot understand the language of intelligent beings or communicate in any way.

It is the most intuitive image of nature

Situations in which this form appears:

Dies in human form

When moving between the elements

Attitude:

Nature treats all matter equally, including humans. It does not take sides with any party, so when there is a human prayer wishing for a war victory type of wish it will simply be ignored, but for something like a prayer for rain there will be more of a response. They may treat things differently depending on their personalities, but they are gentle and merciless by nature.

In the mythological form of the nature gods (nature), there is no such thing as anger, and all disasters are inevitable for various reasons, which they cannot change even as nature gods. The relationship between the nature gods is mutually reinforcing, similar to the five elements (but the reference here is to the four elements).

However, if someone prays at this point in time, just when the conditions allow it, they are capable of saving people. But not in a way that makes the disaster calm down, nor does it appear directly, but in a way that creates redundant terrain or changes the path of the disaster. Similarly if you have an earthquake and pray for Rock Adam, Rock Adam might delineate an obvious safe area or will fall into a triangular safe house just in time for a building rock to collapse, but humans don't notice these details.

So in this AU worldview, there aren't many deaths or injuries due to nature, and it's a state where nature and humans coexist peacefully.

Humans also know exactly what kind of behavior will lead to the wrath of the nature gods (especially in their everyday form), so they don't mess around with it.

Rituals:

Formations invented by humans to invoke the gods. There are different invocation rituals in different regions, but overall it is a way to communicate with the gods. Since nature gods can understand all languages, they will hear if it is indicated that they are needed, but whether or not they respond depends on the content of the prayer and the suitability of the conditions.

About clothing:

【Human form】 Clothing is indistinguishable from normal human, and will be corrupted by natural elements including its own representatives

【Everyday Form】 Appears to be the likeness and material of normal human clothing, but will have its own representative elemental resistance and will not be corrupted by natural elements. Some of the nature god's gloves can also be isolated from elemental contact, ensuring that no natural elemental reaction occurs with the items they touch.

【Mythic Form】 Clothing is a direct manifestation of natural elements, and contact is directly subject to natural elemental attachment.

#the mandela catalogue #the mandela catalog fanart #art #mandela catalouge au #the mandela catalogue nature au #mandela catalogue nature au #nature au #adam murray #cesar torres #jonah marshall #mark heathcliff

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doodle-pops · 6 months

Text

Dusk Till Dawn

Turgon x reader

Kinktober 2023: Squirting

A/N: My first time writing a single piece for Turgon and I enjoyed every second of it :)

Warnings: fem!reader, squirting, a slight overstimulation, Turgon being a tease and letting loose, dom!Turgon, a bit of power play, marathon sex

Words: 3.3k

Synopsis: Your King learns of your unique ability and makes use of it to pleasure himself all night.

List of Requests

“What’s the matter? Tired already?” His voice sounded mocking, and the uncommon nature of the King, as he stood at the end of the bed with an unphased and energetic expression.

How had you been going at it? Minutes that turned into hours that stretched into an eternity. You’d been tossed about the bed into complex positions to suit your King’s insatiable pleasure, a desire he kept sedated and suppressed out of fear and disgust. Now, he towered like an eternal being, body fit and filled with vigour for days to satisfy his hunger. The wickedly sinful lopsided smirk he gazed upon you with as his right hand roamed his body, slipping lower to grip his erect cock, stirred your rearranged insides. You could feel the tingling sensation building; your legs reacted, shutting themselves. His eyes didn’t miss the gesture, knowing it was the result of his undeniable wicked charm.

Panting the more you gazed upon his body, ripples of muscles just waiting to crush you under its weight, flexed and shifted for you to admire. Your eyes roamed from his pensive stare to his pectorals to his abdomen, all the way past his cock to his thighs. Those were the same muscles you adored whenever he trained in the early morning, now mocking you in delight of wanting more. It felt great to be pressed into the mattress by the giant stoic King; had you known there was the possibility he contained a loose bone, matters would have been enacted earlier instead of the tumultuous situation.

“My King…forgive me, but I was merely astonished by your raw power and strength. I require a moment to breathe,” you laboured, chest rapidly embarking on a journey to recover your momentum.

Instead of feeling sympathy on behalf of your problem, Turgon breathlessly grinned and hung his head to snicker. He warned you that this could possibly end wrong given his current disposition of not being enticed in years, and you informed him of your manageable abilities. Yet here you were, begging for resuscitation. Taking a step closer, knee touching the bedframe, his hand reached out to grip your thighs and pull you down. His body easily coveted your tiny figure with the devilish gleam in his eyes; who was this person? “Your expressions humour me milady. You would never expect a reserved person like me to have a display and appetite like this.”

Closing the gap by pressing his body against yours, his hands reached for you and intertwined them above your head. Without hesitation, his lips crashed against yours for another mouthful of air, swarming butterflies in your core. Your whines and moans were devoured effortlessly by his tongue the deeper he pressed on while your arousal slowly flowed out your cunt, adding to the stains already left on his cock. The friction from his erection rubbing against your fold accompanied by the waltz of your tongues left you shivering and covered in goosebumps. Each swirl of his tongue in your cavern left you panting and grinding into him aggressively.

Your legs, despite their soreness, wrapped around his slender waist and hooked their ankles to lock him in place. What an unorthodox contradiction you were exhibiting—it showed how much you craved him despite your mind pushing against the lethargy. Your body was your greatest traitor, and it did not please your mind knowing that Turgon manipulated its desires into feeding his salacious prowess appetite. His laughter echoed through the kiss and settled in the depths of your mind, melting the very fibre of your dignity and casting an enchantment. His sorcery was unmatched the more his tongue wrapped around yours and pulled sighs and indescribable moans out of your throat.

The yearning sensation grew when his grip around your wrist tightened and pressed greatly into the mattress. Now you understood what a warrior's grip felt like and meant. The deadliness and precision of his hands as they held you secure and firmly left you enjoying the pleasures of his hands. He was eating your lips and his body moved in great seduction. Grinding and gyrating against you in a mating ritual dance to hypnotize your body, soul and mind; to give your all and allow him to have his way.

Growing breathless as your kiss escalated, he broke it to stare with hazy turquoise eyes and reddened lips. “You told me you wanted this from the very start; can you handle the rest?” he whispered sincerely as he bit his lip.

Finding it impossible to reply as his hips slowly ground his cock through your folds, you choked on air, basking in the pulsation that developed from the motion. The little heartbeat in your cunt produced an alluring rhythm, preventing his erection from slowing its pacing, urging it to continue. Turgon was conscious of his actions, he bathed in your pheromones and body’s desire to satisfy the depraved beast. It was years since he had the bliss of indulging in pleasure in the highest form, and when you offered yourself to him so sweetly like a sacrifice, how could he refuse.

Releasing his left hand from your wrist, his fingers ghosted over your sweaty skin—dancing and adding to the sensations—to grip his cock and align it with your entrance. No time was wasted after seeing your response; Turgon slipped in to relish in the temporary absence of your warmth. His body crumbled momentarily, dropping more weight and immobilising you completely. The shudders of his pleasure rippled violently throughout his body, heightening all your senses and pushing you to the edge.

The very weight of his cock resettled within your heat, surrounded by the warmth and softness of your gummy walls pulsating and massaging his cock had his hips gyrating against yours. It had only been six minutes since he had returned to your heavenly temple, and it felt like a lifetime; your walls contracted to adjust to the sheer thickness he was endowed and Turgon swore to the heavens that it felt like the first entry. “It doesn’t matter how many times I have you tonight; you’ll always squeeze me so tightly,” his voice was raspy and stuffy as he struggled to focus.

The weight of him once more filled you to the brim; you should know that a King as regal and elegant as him would no doubt carry proportions to display his sophistication. Where he lacked in grith, he fulfilled in length and weight, and that one single vein that ran alongside his length. A hollow groan escaped his throat as your warmth enveloped him like a cocoon, swaddling him in a blanket.

Look up, your vision was blurred by the dark locks of his head buried in the crook of your neck. The warmth of his breath as he panted and slowly made the first move to pull out, produced ripples of goosebumps across your body. Your free hand shot out to dig its nails into his back while your body arched into his. The delicious friction of your nipples gliding across his sweaty chest, and the grip his hands fought to hold on your thigh sent shivers down your spine. Turgon had no time to build any momentum and went straight for his target, to get you incapacitated before the night was over.

Straightening his posture and rising from your body, you had a curt moment to breathe before your body was being manhandled and dragged further down the bed to meet the edge. Tossing your legs haphazardly over his shoulder, one hand rested on your thigh while the other released your hand and rubbed at your clit effortlessly. The slick sounds of sweaty skin slapping against each other reverberated off the walls of his royal chamber alongside his grunts and groans. You watched as he majestically stretched his neck backwards to present his elongated, swan-like throat to moan. The way his dark strands fell over his shoulders and cascaded down his back was meticulously thought out; he knew what he was doing with every action of his, and it was astonishing to see him so relaxed.

Struggling to keep up and fighting to swallow the whiny moaned as his hips continued to drive his cock deeper, your hands came down to grip his wrist for stability. You could feel the pressure easily building as his thrusts grew with expertise and sin. Toes curling and eyes rolling, Turgon had you in an ensnared and eating out of the palms of his hands. The way his thumb would thoroughly rub circles on your clit, meeting the rolls of his hips that caused his tip to forever brush against your sweet spot; you were close to paradise.

“I can feel something coming love. Are you giving it to me like you promised?” he asked, lips running across your chest before latching to your left nipple.

Nodding and whining some incomprehensible response because the pressure was building at insurmountable heights, your grips around his wrists tightened synchronically with your walls. The loud hiss escaping his lips as he felt your gummy walls clamping down on his cock forced his hips to stutter before regaining their momentum. He laughed into your skin and continued to suckle your breast, switching from left to right.

“T–Turukáno… Please, My King—oh Eru!” you wailed into the air, eyes shut and body convulsing as the pressure snapped. You released; you came.

Sensing the insurmountable build-up of pressure pushing against his cock and movements, he slowed his thrusts and was met with the surprise of a lifetime. Caught in between watching you spasm and enjoying the liquid expelling from your cunt, Turgon pulled away from your breast to cast sparkled turquoise eyes at your orgasm. He didn’t stop, only slowing down to ease your sensitivity and observed the volume being expelled, a dazzling smile struck him. With a bite to his bottom lip followed by a lick, his thumb returned to your clit without hesitation and regained a languorous rhythm.

Turning his thrusts at snail’s pace at first, he arched over your body and hovered his lips above yours. “My, my, my. Is this why you didn’t want to continue in the first place darling?” his whisper was enchanting, prompting you to peek at him through slithered lids. Your chest heaved laboriously as you fought to catch your breath and maintain a focused gaze on him. The urge to roll your eyes again was beckoning from his torturous actions was dire.

Not a soul would suspect their King having qualities to classify him as villainous, but physical intimacies always brought out another side to people. As timid and skittish as he appeared, the key factor was the blood of Finwe coursing through his veins. The hunger and passion to perform like his life was dependent on it was crucial. “N–Not at all my King, never!” Your voice was faint and softer with a soreness lingering; courtesy of all the screaming he had you performing earlier.

“Really? Then you will oblige should I desire another, and another, and more…” He brushed yours before he took your bottom lips into his mouth and nibbled on it. The serenity of the lustful aura he released had a chokehold placed on your fuzzy brain; you couldn’t tell up from down, left from right. If your King said to be his mistress, wife or anything else, you’d happily oblige without insurgency.

Small trickles of your release flowed out and soaked his entire length as its pace picked up. Your legs dangled over his shoulder and your body perfectly pressed you into the mattress. All the rings of cream you left on him earlier disappeared as he was cleansed by the essences you withheld. As his pace doubled and tripled, the obscene slapping of sweaty and wet skin against each other reverberated throughout the room. Loud gasps and small chuckles as his hand slipped while gripping the back of your thigh followed. You were folded in half while your feeble attempts at gripping his thighs to slow him down were futile. A roll of his hips and your moans were stuck in your throat.

“Fighting me now, hmm? Ngh…don’t want to serve your King and give me what I desire?” he tantalisingly whispered now that his lips were ghosting the shell of your ear. “You promised to satisfy me all night; why are you running?”

Trembling in his hold as he pounded into you, the force creating creaks in the bedframe, you struggled to shake your head at him as tears pooled and cascaded down your cheeks. The shakiness in your breathing as your body moved up and down the bed from his powerful thrusts, knocked all the wind out of your lungs. He was rattling your skeleton and you could feel it jiggling inside.

As the temperature of the room rose, so did the heat in your breaths and bodies. He felt uncomfortably hot as his skin was stuck to yours; sweat dripping down his muscles and rolling over the curves as his body clung to yours. Chest to chest, his was rubbing against your nipples creating a luscious friction that synchronically fell into a rhythm with his thumb drawing circles on your clit. If your head wasn’t spinning then, it most certainly was now. “Oh Eru…hmm, fuck! So good, so good, fuck!” you screeched into the heated air, nails digging into his thick, muscular thighs as his cock drove deeper hitting your sweet spot.

You couldn’t begin to compare how artfully magnificent his thrusts were. With each sinful roll of his hips, you felt like a story was being told; one of lust and desire, another one of loneliness and a yearning for companionship and one of unfulfilled desires treated shamefully. You knew of his loneliness after the passing of his wife, all his frustration pent up without an escape. He was a like bubbling pot with a sealed lid, waiting to explode. It was safe to say, you considered yourself lucky to catch his eyes to relieve his sexual tendencies and he was living up to all your fantasies and more. The King of your city had you sprawled out on his bed with your legs dangling over his shoulder while plunging his cock into your cunt for his satisfaction. You were a gift in his eyes, and he would choose no other to be with at that moment.

Shutting your eyes to relish at the moment properly, a yelp slipped out when he pressed more of his weight onto you, leaving you immobilised, thoroughly. Dropping your hands from his thighs, they reached for the bedsheets, not caring if you tore them apart as he battered your insides. His vigorous thrusting left your ass reddened from the weighted impact with every collision. In addition, his heavenly grunts and moans in your ear were a melody crafted by the Gods, it made your essence trickle from your cunt. “Your cunt sounds so sweet, music to my ears,” he cooed, “but I want to hear it squirting for me. Can you give me another release love? I know you can.”

Whining to look up at his face as he pulled back to hover, you could barely get a syllable out. A hand left your thigh and slithered up your torso, stopping to grope your breast and tweak your nipples before arriving at your face. He wasted no time cupping your chin and forcing you to look at his turquoise eyes. “Is my Lady going to cum for her King? Are you going to give it to me…” His eyes bore holes into yours, and his sinister smirk wasn’t helping as your walls began contracting and the pulsation grew in tempo.

You could feel your heart beating in the core of your cunt, right where his tip met your sweet spot. All the butterflies that swarmed your stomach left and travelled to your cunt to meet your heartbeat and increased the sensations. The widening of your eyes as your breathing shortened and released in small intervals had your muscles clenching around his cock tighter. The choked sob and stutter in his hips were no escape to cease performing, for he tunnelled through your gummy walls and left them battered. His goal: rearrange your insides and get you to squirt now that he knew it was possible.

“Tu–Tur–…fuck! I can feel it, it’s there…ngghh!” you wailed. Your nails had tightened their grip on the luxurious fabric and tugged with aggression as the pressure built with nowhere left to run.

“That’s it, good girl, just like that,’ he praised as the motion of his thumb steadied and he felt a force opposing the thrusting of his cock. For now, it was pleasant if he had not cum and painted your walls in his release, he was taken caught up in the bliss of knowing that he could pull such a reaction out of you. It went to show that he still had his abilities after all those lonely years without practice. Now all that meant was for him to continue his ministrations to regain his prowess.

Without a second to lose, Turgon wanted to savour the moment you squirted everything on him and drew closer to capture your lips. Eating your lips and moans, he breathed into your mouth at the insurmountable pressure that collided with his cock and sprayed all over his lower abdomen and thighs. You could feel your body shuddering as the dams broke and expelled everything you had all over him. The moans of satisfaction that vibrated in his chest through the kiss alerted you of his contentment. Shivering violently in his arms, your hands slipped in between and pushed against his stomach to cease his thrusting; he was still going without any remorse for your sensitivity. “Turukáno, ease…ease up on me, please. Sensitive,” you cried out.

Reluctantly he slowed his thrusting until they came to a stop, he eased out with an obscene squelch and stood climbed off the stand at the edge. Curling up as your legs flopped off his shoulders, your body convulsed and shook as though you’d been electrocuted.

The chuckle that followed when he gazed at your fucked out state, lips swollen and red, eyes hazy and teary, loopy smile, tear-stained cheeks, hair tangled and a sweaty body, he mentally gave himself a pat on his back. You observed the way he licked his lips as his eyes roamed your body while grinning and shutting your eyes with a dazed smile. The image of him stoking his cock as though he wasn’t tired was painted vividly in your imagination. Enough to tell you that your night wasn’t over.

“Tired?” his voice rang with concern, eyes cautious gauging your reaction and body for injury.

Squinting through your right eye, you noticed his arched brows, meditatively waiting for your reply. “Well, what you suspect Your Majesty? You’re the one who laid the damages.”

Chortling, he placed a knee beside your limped body and beamed, “You look like you could do with another round to remedy your fatigue. I’m still becharmed by your little trick for I desire to see more.”

Flashing a look of scepticism at him, both eyes were opened staring at him with livid horror. “Your Majesty—Turukáno, you can’t be joking?!”

“I’m not. You commanded that you would be the source of my pleasure tonight, and to that I oblige,” he charmed with a magical grin as his body slid over yours like a snake. “Now be a good girl and spread your legs for me, I wish to note if my fingers can do the same.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @batsyforyou

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