#its about being white being male and being strong

[andypantsx3]

part ii of the dragon shouto au : prequel + part i warnings: unedited lol, afab implied fem reader, possessive dragon boyfriend shouto, unrealistically excellent first time, 18+ minors please dni!!

the thing about having a human-shaped shouto on your hands was that he didn't quite seem to understand humans did things differently than dragons.

where before you'd cuddle up against shouto in his dragon form and spend the night insulated under his thick leathery wings, or let him rest his head in your lap as you absently stroked his scales—those things took on an entirely different connotation when you thought about performing them with a human man.

particularly a human man who looked like shouto.

shouto did not appreciate the distinction.

"i am yours and you are mine," he said simply, the third night after he'd transformed.

you'd tried to take him home, at first, unclear about what to do with an entire human man on your hands, but had quickly realized this unwise.

your parents, ordinarily traditional and fussy, had been floored by the audacity of your bringing a man home still unwed. but they had kept their distance once shouto's pupils went slitted, and a familiar guttural noise tore out of him when they attempted to remove you from him, not-quite-human-teeth snapping.

it was exactly as it had been when you'd brought him home as a child, and he a lizard the size of a fat cat. he'd staked an unmistakable claim on you, and any hand that got between you two would be severed.

so you'd taken shouto back out into the field where he'd transformed, in the interest of keeping your family home intact. you'd lit a fire again, camping out with him over night, trying to keep your distance and failing.

"it's different with humans," you said, freezing when shouto's head suddenly appeared in your lap. he looked up at you expectantly, those blue and grey eyes searching your face, a tiny frown on his lovely mouth.

"it is not different. you are mine in any form," he said. a large, elegant-fingered hand caught yours, guiding your hand up to his hair.

you laughed despite yourself, his insistence on being pet all too familiar in any form as well. carefully, you stroked your fingers through the red and white strands, marveling at their silky softness. shouto's eyes slipped closed and he let out a contented huff, long eyelashes sweeping the tops of his cheeks.

your face heated. he was very beautiful.

"in human custom, i can only belong to one man," you said to shouto, unable to keep the dismay from your voice.

you did not want to take a husband, and it would be all the more difficult now that the entire village had seen human shouto trailing after you the last few days, following you as he always did in his dragon form. except now they had all seen very human, very male hands on you, had seen how closely shouto shadowed you, as if your body was an extension of his own, and no space was needed between you.

you knew there was already talk.

"i am one man," shouto rumbled, turning his face into your stomach. something fluttery jumped in your stomach as the feeling of his soft exhalation over your hip bone.

"i meant a husband, shouto," you said. "i am obliged to take a husband."

shouto was quiet a moment, before another slow, hot breath warmed the fabric of your shirt. "you said i was the only boy for you."

something lightning hot raced up your spine, embarrassment mixed with the thrill of the implication. you looked into the fire for something to do with your attention, watching the flames lick over the logs.

"i said that when you were a dragon," you hissed, your ears prickling with heat. "i didn't mean you would be my husband."

a strong arm wound its way around your waist, pulling you that much closer to shouto, locking you against him. a fiery blue eye cracked open, fixing on you with inhuman intensity. the pupil looked a little slitted in the firelight, and you swallowed in apprehension.

"i am yours and you are mine. if that means i am to be your husband then i will be," shouto said with unmistakable decisiveness.

the thing in your stomach fluttered again, and your thighs shifted beneath shouto's head. his other hand gripped the flesh above your knee, holding you in place.

you choked, your hands freezing in shouto's mop of white-and-scarlet hair. "you don't know what that means."

his hands tightened on you. "i have lived among your people nearly as long as you have. i am not unfamiliar with human custom."

your face burned, words slipping out of your reach. did he really understand what he was saying here? you'd known he'd long understood you, but it had never been clearly exactly how much his dragon brain was processing. but now...

"but you can't—if you know what it means—shouto, you can't—"

a hot mouth met the skin of your stomach, just under your shirt, and the words choked off in your throat. a slow, careful nip to your skin made you freeze.

"i will be your husband and you will be mine," he purred, his voice slightly muffled against your skin. his mouth dragged over your hip.

your hand fisted in his hair, gripping on for purchase. shouto did not seem to mind, his mouth mapping the edge of your stomach, your hip, the waistline of your unladylike trousers.

a shaky breath escaped you. "there are parts of a human union, though, shouto, that i'm not sure you, um, quite understand."

the hand at your knee slid up your thigh as the hand at your back disappeared, reappearing at your hip, pulling the waist of your pants a little lower.

"i understand," shouto replied, his mouth meeting the newly exposed strip of skin above your pelvis. it was only his grip on you, the weight of him across your legs that kept you from jumping a mile into the air. "i have taken this form for that reason."

words failed you, their meanings slipping right out of your mind as shouto's mouth moved painfully gently and deliberately lower and lower.

"ah, shouto—" you managed.

shouto hummed, and you felt his eyelashes flutter against the skin of your stomach, though most of his face was obscured by the fall of your shirt.

"you smell like mine," he rumbled into your skin, sounding altogether too pleased. "i will make it so. i will keep you and care for you as you have kept and cared for me."

another trembling breath quivered in your lungs before you found yourself flat on your back on the ground. shouto had somehow managed to keep himself beneath your shirt, only this time his mouth met the underside of your chest bindings.

"you like it," his voice sounded wondering where it issued from beneath your shirt. you'd have found it comical if not for what he was saying. "you like this form—i can smell it."

his weight moved on your legs, shifting into the cradle of your thighs. he was so warm and broad over you, hot as fire even though the shirt and trousers you'd managed to wrangle him into.

you did not like being laid so bare, but shouto was your oldest friend, and your attention was rapidly being subsumed not by his words but by the feeling of your chest bindings coming undone under your shirt.

"shouto—you are, um, of course very handsome," you said, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. you thought you should push him away to have this conversation from a safer distance, but your arms were barren of the strength to do so, instead clutching him closer. "but you've only been a man for a couple of days. what if there are other women who—oh—oh!"

a hot mouth closed over your left nipple, soft but firm as if in reprimand. "there are no other women. there is only you."

a hot tongue, a little longer than you thought might be normal, laved over the peak. your hips pressed up into shouto without your say so, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. he was doing a little too well under there.

"sho—shouto," you said when he found the other breast, long fingers pulling your bindings down to expose it to him. you'd never had a man's mouth on you before, except for the kiss shouto had given you upon first transforming.

the feeling was mind-numbingly good, and suddenly the idea of a husband—of shouto as your husband—was altogether too appealing, if this is what it was going to be like.

your hips shifted into him again, and you felt his rumbling purr in the meat of your breast.

"my treasure. mine." shouto said when he finally seemed satisfied with the attention he'd lavished on your breasts.

he pulled himself back out of your shirt, leaning in to take your mouth instead as he laid himself out over you. you could feel something firm and insistent press against your inner thigh, hot and hard and unmistakable.

shivers crawled up your skin, little frissons of pleasure.

"say you will be mine," shouto puffed against your mouth, his hands already yanking at your trousers. "please say you will be mine."

he was so handsome over you, your most steadfast friend wearing the most beautiful face you had ever seen, new to you and yet so undeniably familiar, somehow. the sight of him settled that feeling inside you you'd had your entire life, the feeling that the thing you were meant for was just out of reach, just beyond the next corner.

he looked like everything you were meant for—everything that was meant for you.

feeling strangely squirmish and shy, you managed an answer. "i always have been."

a heartbreakingly beautiful grin swept over shouto's mouth, a sweet half-moon. his pupils were unmistakably slitted, his two-toned eyes looking just as they did in his dragon form.

in a few shift movements shouto had you both divested of your trousers, and was pressing slowly, carefully inside you.

the feeling was strange, foreign. but with shouto over you, the weight of him holding you down kept you grounded, and soft kisses to your neck and shoulder kept you just distracted enough as he slid home inside of you.

you felt full in a way you'd never imagined, physically and otherwise. your nerves sparked to life when two of shouto's fingers found their way to where you connected, pressing firmly over your clit. a shivery moan escaped you, and shouto's mouth clamped down lightly over your shoulder.

"mine, mine, mine," he groaned into your skin, flexing his hips. the slide of him inside you was better than you'd known it would be, especially when he cupped the small of your back, pulling you into him at an angle.

between his fingers on your clit, rubbing little insistent circles, and the press of him inside of you, you quickly grew frantic, returning his thrusts with eager motions of your own hips, reveling in the way it sent sparks skittering up all your nerve endings.

your liked the way your breasts pressed into his chest, the firm way he held you to him, the bruises he was sucking into the skin of your neck. talented fingers pinched carefully at your clit, a slurry of sensation.

he seemed determined to work you up, hard and fast, and he was succeeding. you felt like pudding in his hands, melting, dripping, hot over his fingers. every single one of his movements seemed calculated to drive you insane, drive you to writhe against him harder, more desperately.

in no time at all you were gasping his name into the cool night air, chasing the release of an unfamiliar pressure.

"let go, love," shouto said, kissing your mouth again. "let go and be mine."

you nodded, words failing you as something inside of you snapped and a tidal wave of pleasure crashed into you, sweeping away all thought. shouto fucked you right through it, his groans rumbling into growls, full-throated and deep. the slide of him inside you became almost too much and you squirmed underneath him, but couldn't bring yourself to want it to stop.

shouto's thrusts grew faster, messier. you heard his fingers rake the ground at the side of your head as he finally came too, his slender hips grinding into your thigh as he spilled inside of you. he went rigid over you, huffing your name, until finally he relaxed into you, his hard body pinning you to the ground.

"this will be an interesting conversation to have," you said some minutes later, when both of you had settled. your hands found their way into shouto's hair again and he pressed up into them like a pleased tomcat.

"there will be no question now. you are my mate, and i am your husband," shouto said, sounding smug. his eyes were closed but you thought they would be glittering with pleasure if they were open.

"we'll still need to do the human ceremony," you said. "but i can't imagine anyone could stop us."

shouto all but purred. "i will eat them if they try."

you laughed, yanking on his hair. "you will do no such thing."

"then i will fly you off to the nearest cave and mate you so thoroughly no questions could ever be asked," he said instead. "there will be no doubt you are mine."

your thighs clenched involuntarily around his hips, and you could tell by the flutter of his long lashes that he was suppressing a smug expression.

"maybe for the honeymoon," you allowed, trying not to sound too interested.

but shouto was your oldest friend and you were learning he'd long known everything about you. "definitely for the honeymoon," he decided, shifting to pull you into the circle of his arms, tucked safely into his side.

you settled into his embrace, feeling truly content for the first time in your life, certain of the one thing shouto had been insisting this whole time.

you were his, and he was yours. always.

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto smut #shoto x reader #character: todoroki shouto #dragon shouto au

[seraphdreams]

DON'T FORGET ME | BAJI KEISUKE.

⋆˙⟡♡ synopis. going to a concert with your best friend certainly has its perks. and so does hooking up with one of the bandmates.

⋆˙⟡♡ contains. bimbo!reader, rockstar!baji, unprotected sex, pet names, asphyxiation, creampie, semi-public sex, baji being sleazy + eighteen plus, mdni.

⋆˙⟡♡ word count. 3.3k.

“Thanks for coming to tonight’s show! Here’s one more song before we head out!”

You’d never been much of a fan of underground rock music, and quite frankly, you still weren’t. Something about obnoxiously loud vocals backed up with random electric guitar riffs just never settle right within your spirit. In fact, you almost forgot the real reason you stood just yards away from one of the biggest up and coming rock bands.

For one thing, the air was incredulously too suffocating. Bodies upon bodies virtually sewn together despite the spacious arena that held them, and the stage lights abnormally dim—Only a few saffron-hued luminescences casted upon the four males that appeared on the platform. You hardly saw the members in the far back on their guitars but of what you could make out, one had white hair decorated with a small black streak and tan skin that glimmered under the hot lights while the other, with a dark neck tattoo and bold eyes, drank from his half-full water bottle.

Mostly by the front and center of the stage, occupied the drummer and the person who was just speaking out from the mic mere seconds ago.

“That’s my fucking brother!” Your best friend and little sister of the main vocalist, Airi shouted. She was but the replication of her brother; large, emerald orbs dazzled with long dark brown eyelashes and heaps of wavy blonde hair that fell downward to her lower back. Her outfit choice of leather pants donned with a matching corset top left none of her figure to the imagination, an ode to her love of the genre.

Wherever Airi went, you followed, and when she proposed the idea of seeing her brother and his bandmates perform, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity—Not to mention the free front row tickets he offered.

It was clear Chifuyu heard his sister from the crowd, looking down at the two of you with an illustrious smile and gesturing a two finger salute. He inched back with the microphone taut in the grip of his left hand and sent off a cue to the rest of his bandmates. Music followed hastily after and he began to sing.

Throughout the whole show, your eyes remained locked onto the raven-haired drummer. You marveled at each and every ministration he made, how his demeanor seemed to switch with each passing song and how the sweat accumulated on his perfectly toned body. In your head, you could’ve cursed Airi for not telling you about him beforehand, he’s totally your type.

You bobbed your head along to the melody that flowed within your ears and it was evident to Airi that you were enjoying the show you formally told her you “probably wouldn’t enjoy.”

She leaned over to sonorously whisper-yell in your ear. “Having fun?” The expiration of her words practically fell to flat ears had you not seen her in your peripheral view. In all honesty, you were more-so focused on the aggression that sexy drummer displayed while he played. How did he not break the drumset? Surely, he was strong enough to do so.

“Huh?” You peered over at her, vacant eyes meeting her jaded ones. She gave you her signature allknowing look and turned back to face the band.

Soon enough, the music stopped and the venue was filled with its final cheers. The stage went ominously tenebrous and the rest of the audience filed out of the stadium, except for you and Airi.

“Wanna go chill backstage?” Airi proposed. She pointed her thumb in the direction of a hallway filled with staff. “Are we even allowed to?” you started. “The place is packed with security.”

Airi mirthfully elbowed you, that sly smile on her perfectly made-up face. “I’m family, they’ll understand.”

One thing you couldn’t knock about your best friend was her adventurousness. Truthfully, you were just as bad as her, yet a bit more wary of getting in trouble—Especially if the law was involved, but you liked fun. And this was definitely what you needed. “Show me the way then, Little Matsuno.”

And with that, the both of you had set foot on your way to heading backstage.

Which undoubtedly felt like the case until you found yourself stranded among other concertgoers and personnel that you lost sight of your friend. She couldn’t have gotten far so where the hell was she? You continued your search by calling her phone, walking in any direction to pick up the slightest amount of signal.

“Hey.”

The bellow of a deep voice stopped you dead in your tracks and you sheepishly looked up with silent hopes that you hadn’t gotten in it with the wrong person. Much to your dismay (Or maybe it was a blessing), the man you’d been eyeing all night stood tall above you. Long, wavy noir tresses sat at his wide shoulders to match his black tank top that was slightly rolled up at the hem, showing off his midriff and that delicious v-line. His toned and ink littered arms folded across his chest while an undistinguishable expression etched over his features.

“Uh, hi.” You blinked a few times in dubiousness at the circumstance you so gracefully landed yourself in. Proximal distance to his figure led you to tread backward a few steps until you were at a comfortable enough range to take him in fully.

He looked so fucking mean, thick eyebrows pursed together, and sharp, amber eyes narrowed upon your figure.

“What do ya think you’re doin’?”

You had half a mind to drop to your knees and show him what was on your mind, yet you remained to keep yourself where you stood, for his sake of course.

His eyes bored holes into your frame. Whereas you couldn’t keep up with his unwavering eye contact, he managed to take note of every little quirk about you. “Um.. I was looking for my friend.” Your throat felt dry as you began to speak. “She said I could come backstage—Her name’s Airi Matsuno, Chifuyu’s sister.” The words got quieter as you spewed them out. You weren’t sure if it was your nerves or the intimidation, he’s so much taller up close.

“Eh? Fuyu’s lil’ sis?” He looked behind him to one of his bandmates, that same one as before with the blond streaks and neck tattoo. It seemed as though every member had genes blessed by the deities up above. “Tora, does Fuyu have a sister?”

The man you come to realize as “Tora” affirms your claim, adding that he had just seen Airi and Chifuyu leave the venue.

“Damn it, Ai.” You thought to yourself as if she’d actually given one day to not be herself.

The drummer turns back to look at you, this time unfolding his arms and standing somewhat widely. His thick dark brows remained quirked in a perplexed manner. He leans down to meet your gaze, hands hidden in his pockets as he concludes. “Some friend you got there. She left ya all alone.”

“She does that sometimes.” You reply.

He straightened up back to his full height, his expression softening, and a slight crack of a smile on his lips. “Guess i’ll keep ya company ‘til she comes back.”

Any other day, your humility would’ve been disregarded to the back of your mind. In all actuality, you were discourteous and loved attention, yet the feeling of a celebrity seemingly stooping low enough for some lost, 20-something year old groupie in disguise, kept your modesty in perfect condition.

“Oh, you don’t have to-“

Your words were quickly cut off by his cold demeanor as he opened one of the doors in the narrow hallway beside him. “But I wanna. /Ven aqui/.“ Eyes looked into yours like daggers and you couldn’t quite tell if he were vexed at your facade or if he were just blessed with bedroom eyes.

You followed him into what seemed to be his greenroom. It’s complete with a set of drums on one side near the corner and a half opened window, and a leather couch in the middle, not to mention the rack of clothes on the other edge.

“Didn’t catch your name, though. You are?” He questioned, sitting at the drumset in front of you. You made yourself comfortable on the plush couch, pulling the hem of your pink bodycon down in hopes you don’t reveal too much.

“I’m Y/N. And you are?”

He raises an eyebrow then follows it with a hearty laugh. “You came to my show ‘nd ya don’t even know my name?” You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, but he was right. You didn’t know any of the members aside from the obvious, Chifuyu.

“My friend dragged me here, I just go wherever she goes.” You retort, a cordial grin on your face. He adjusts his sitting position and spreads his legs slightly.

It’s coming. The urge to suck dick.

“Yeah? Name’s Baji. You can call me Keisuke though.”

He pulled the pair of drumsticks from his back pocket and quietly tapped away. “You’re cute.” Dexterously, he twirled one of the sticks between his fingers where you noticed his black lacquered nails paired with the skull-esque designs of the rings that adorned said digits. “You like a college student or something?” Heat spread across your cheeks at the comment. A band member calling you cute was not something you thought you’d experience tonight, but there’s lots you haven’t experienced yet.

“Mhm. It’s a lot though, I'm thinking of dropping out.” More calm your voice was, and he picked up on your energy, sending a stern glance your way.

“Nah, don’t do that.” The melodic tapping from the drumsticks halt. “Ya seem like a smart girl, don’t be like me.”

Curiosity overtakes you, causing you to press forward. “And what are you like, Keisuke?” His name tasted saccharine falling off your tongue and filling your ears with the sweetest music. Keisuke, Keisuke, Keisuke.

“Dropped out at 14, ran around with a few gangs, and now ‘m doing music.” His words register in his mind before he continues. “But ‘m makin’ good money now, maybe you should live like me a little.”

A giggle resonated within the room and he felt his heart swell at the cute laughter. He wasn’t quite sure what urged your joy but he returned it with a smile of his own. You truly do have the prettiest face. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Ya know..” His words slipped off his tongue like honey and in turn you gave him the most of your attention, curious eyes locked on his dismal bronze ones. “I got this beat I can’t get out my head. Can I get your opinion?” His expression was glazed over in calculation with a slight pat to his thigh that you seemingly picked up. Instinctively, your body moved on its own and replied to his silent call. As you nestled into his lap, you only hoped that this had been what he was asking for. “Mhm.” Your response was curt and barely escaped under the pressure of your breath.

Your back was pressed against his chest and your core was slotted over his thigh, a relatively intimate position despite the need for cordial relations. He started up on the drums, stirring up the common one-two, one-two beat that emphasized its focus on the round bass drum that sat at the bottom of the set. It was as if with each press to the drum pedal the muscle of his thigh dangerously tensed beneath your heat, eliciting surges of delirium and pleasure straight to the very source. It’s clear he knew what he was doing from the onsight of your glossy lips parting and the faintest decibel of a gasp leaving your lips.

“Y’like it?” Deep voice ghosted over your ear as he leaned in precariously close. “Y’sure it won’t sound better like this?”

The beat he originally created morphed into one of a sonorous, heavier tone. Your body vaguely rocked over his, your tits bouncing from the nefarious rising and falling of his leg in the sweetest, yet most sinister tandem with his flexing thighs.

And all restraint vanished from within you as you diligently rutted your hips. You felt embarrassed. Like a needy nuisance needed to be taken care of, yet again, your humility sat idly by and pride dwindled from your very being.

“That—That sounds nice.” Your reply was breathy and if you thought enough of this through, your little plan of passing your insatiability off as adjusting your position would’ve worked on him. But it didn’t.

The sultry, damp sensation he felt on his blackened denim pants told him otherwise. Baji chuckled to no one in particular, the sharp canines on display while he smirked mirthfully to himself. He’s had his fair share of girls practically throwing themselves at him, and still, you were the most fun to play with.

The flexing and relaxing of his muscles didn’t let up, as with your ruthless humping. You held tightly to his knees with the pressure only gradually increasing when you felt yourself crumbling in his hold.

On the verge of your awaiting orgasm, Baji’s lips press against the shell of your studded ear.

“I saw you starin’ in the crowd tonight—Couldn’t keep my eyes off that tiny lil’ dress you’re wearing.” He moved one hand from the drumset to snake over the front of your garment, calloused hands kneading at your soft and pert breasts. The movement was one of full dexterity. Your nipples ached as he pinched and rolled them between his fingers.

“Knew you weren’t wearin’ a bra.” his lips against your ear trailed down to your neck which caused the helplessly rutting of your core over his thigh, strikingly close to orgasm. You had managed to keep your whimpers low but due to proximity, you left nothing to be unheard. A harsh tug of your nipples pulled you from the hazed out state you were entranced in.

“Gotta tell Tora I won our little bet.”

False lashes fluttered with every move the both of you made. Your voice was soft as you responded, “You’re just so fucking fine, Couldn’t help myself.”

He was used to the attention. He’s a 6’0 rockstar with a checkered past — Any girl would fall for that cliche shtick, yet something within him wanted to toy with your naivety. Would you really believe anything he said?

“I don’t get much attention from fans, but you? You’re special.”

It was that moment that sent you over the edge, a lewd cry followed by your body convulsing, pretty face screwed up in pleasure, letting Baji know your release had hit you, and fucking hard at that.

“Oh ho? That did it for ya, huh?” He watched in awe at the sopping mess of his pants while allowing you to ride out your high completely before those same strong hands bunched your dress up at the hip.

You rested against his back for a while as stray pants waned themselves from your lips.

“Ya poor thing, I ain’t even get to finish my drummin.’” his hands left your tits as he rasped out the words and settled on turning you around to face him on his lap. “Sorry..” you meekly responded. An airy chuckle sounded itself from him as he whips out his throbbing hard length.

It should be illegal to be as thick as a fucking Coke can, yet there he was — The tip flushed a deep mauve, and pretty pearlescent beads of precum streaming down his cock and over the few veins that seemed to run along the shaft. The prettiest dick you’ve ever seen, and you stared in awe until the deep clearing of his throat caught your attention.

Pumping it shallowly, he pushed those cute fucking pink lace panties to the side, revealing your glistening and sticky folds to him. He prodded the tip at your hole, bullying your core that left you aching for his touch.

“Ride it for me, muñequita.”

With no hesitation, you sank yourself down onto his cock, carefully taking him in.

“Fuck—” The low whimper is sounded from you as you began to bounce yourself on his lap. He felt impossible to take and with your hands rested over his shoulders paired with his arms at your waist, slowly pushing you further down, you didn’t think you could take it. “That’s it, baby. Ride it like it’s yours.” He cooed, letting his head fall back as you got him off.

You bit at your plush bottom lip to elicit any moans from flying which reigned ineffective when you picked up pace and rolled your hips, allowing his cock to drag against that spongey spot within your walls that had your resolve weakening.

Obscenities and the reverberation of skin on skin bounced against the walls of his green room. You were tighter than any girl he’d ever been in and much cuter too.

Once you were able to fall into a comfortable rhythm of bouncing on his cock he hastily began to work toward his own release having grown tired of your saunterous riding.

He lifted you up off his length and turned you around so that you were bent over his drumset. “I know you were trying your best,” he followed up his words with a quick slap to your ass before aligning his cock with your slit once more, “But i’m gonna need better than that.”

Baji noticed the way you faltered once he built up his own pace, with more fervor than the previous. You almost fell forward with the trajectory of the thrusts and to his chagrin, your moans amplified.

“D-Deep! ‘S so deep!” You cried wantonly. You felt your guts get turned inside out with his vigor. A scoff was heard from him in response, the inked up hands that rested at your hips now filing up your body and hooking at your elbows, holding you back flush against him as he continued to hit harder within your walls.

You felt unsteady when his right hand trailed up to your neck and gripped at your jaw before his index and middle finger slipped past your lips into your mouth. The metal of the rings tasted metallic and felt cold against your tongue, those being the least of your concerns when you felt your high from previously coil right up within you once more.

Without warning, you were hit with your release that left you limp in his hold, his fingers retracting from your mouth and messily running down your fat bottom lip where he also smeared a mix of saliva and cherry oil gloss down your chin.

Just momentarily from the sight of how pretty you looked, convulsing and crumbling because of his doing, he followed suit and filled your insides in thick, hot spurts of his cum, drops dripping down your thigh when he continued to rut inside you, emptying himself of his need.

It took you both a while to settle down, his lips hungrily taking in your neck down to your shoulder.

“Was that deep enough for ya?” He rasped and haziness filled your system when you pant to respond. “I-“

Just before you could respond, there’s a knock at the door and a familiar voice accompanied.

“Y/N! You in here? I’m ready to leave!”

It’s Airi, loud and clear after her awaited reappearance.

“Shit.” Baji cursed under his breath. He pulled you off of him and bent you over slightly, fetching a thick black marker from the table beside him and holding the cap between his teeth.

The uncomfortable sensation of the felt tip on your ass trailing down to your thigh lasted mere seconds as you tried to make out the shapes you couldn’t see. “Here’s my number. Don’t forget me.”

He stood you up properly and fixed your skirt, sending you off with a pat to your ass.

“I’ll see you again, Keisuke?”

“Damn right you will.”

tags - @meena-in-a-nutshell @imkumichan @messofavs @aotdump @saaraunicorn @cloudnitee @saffronity @aasouthteranoswife @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @anahryal @withlovetengen @zuuki @keooooothings @bunnyyamor @koucaine @bluerskiees @ready2readagain @sarnghoe

+ a great big thanks to my moot ! @lovelysho thank you so much for beta reading my love !

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#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tr smut #tokyorev smut #baji smut #baji x reader #baji x reader smut #baji keisuke smut #baji keisuke x reader #baji x you #baji x y/n #keisuke baji smut #keisuke baji x reader #keisuke baji x reader smut #baji keisuke x you #baji keisuke x y/n #keisuke baji x you #keisuke baji x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers baji #tr x reader #tr x reader smut #tr baji #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader

[riding-the-sunset-bird]

I was in a Baxter mood today so I went swimming in GB Patch's blog for all the Baxter facts:

General

His personality, at least defined by GB Patch, is that he's sheltered and out-of-touch without being elitist or self-centered. He's preppy/posh, quite sociable, and hates conflict, but likes to go against what's expected of him. He grows out of being such a rich kid trust fund baby by Step 4.

His parents are bigots. He's the unlucky one in a sea of characters with supportive parents.

He has a distant French origin.

His birthday is the day his DLC came out, meaning May 19th.

He's 5'11" (180cm) in Step 4 (this was apparently reconfirmed on the Our Life Discord as well).

His natural hair color - a dark dusty gray that he hates - is uncommon to be born with (as opposed to aged into) in the Our Life universe.

Childhood

His dream job as a child was to get into investments, having a strong portfolio with diverse assets (he does not fully know what that means at the time).

He's a late bloomer.

Baxter's crush on Qiu from Our Life 2 is at its peak when he's 12 and 13 (13 being his age in Our Life 2's Step 1), but he's moving on by 14 (when he can potentially meet the MC in Soiree).

He met Qiu at their local dance hall (as they both took lessons there, just in different forms of dance) and also met Ren/Renee (Darren in Our Life 2's Step 1) through Qiu, as the two had known each other since they were very young.

He wasn't thrown off by his crush on Qiu despite Qiu being a boy, as Qiu was popular and it seemed "unfair" to Baxter not to be able to like him. He puts more thought into it as he grows older and what it means, deciding that he'll feel however he'll feel and not worry about what's expected of him. In Soiree, the MC can notice this if they're male or non-binary, as Baxter isn't bothered by dancing with someone who isn't female.

Abilities (or Lack Thereof)

He's a weak swimmer. He can swim fine in pools but would probably struggle in the ocean.

He can sing.

He's experienced in multiple types of dance (though his favorite is the waltz).

Step 3 Baxter is a lazy, bad cook who doesn't even want to bother with cooking, but Step 4 Baxter takes an interest in trying more fancy/restaurant-style food and is able to do so.

Likes/Dislikes

He likes things being clean, but isn't always motivated enough to maintain that.

He liked video games when he was a kid, leaning towards action/adventure ones, though doesn't anymore in his late teens and beyond. He would play life-based games (such as the Sims series) with the MC if asked, however, either playing innocent like he didn't know what he was doing while messing around with the characters or being blatantly obvious about it.

He doesn't like dancing in clubs/discos. He would try it once because he enjoys trying different types of dance, but would only go regularly if he had a friend/partner who liked going to such places.

He would absolutely approve of an MC who chooses to only wear black and white.

Romantic Inclinations

Beyond his crush on Qiu (who he never confessed to), Baxter dates people, but never for long or seriously.

The reason he backs out of asking out the MC if they say that he's their first crush (unless the MC is referring to his Soiree self) is that he feels they have idealized feelings for him and he'd disappoint them. He essentially panics, not wanting to get the MC's hopes up and especially on their very first feelings of romance.

The best way to romance him is to Not Let Him Escape.

When it comes to what he's attracted to in another person, he likes seeing nail polish, false lashes/heavy mascara/naturally long eyelashes, and full suits (especially if they're expertly tailored).

His love language in terms of receiving is Quality Time, but in terms of giving, he will happily adapt to whatever the MC wants.

Clothing Choices

When it comes to Step 4 Baxter's personal dress code, he's always meeting/formal ready (even when not working) unless he's doing anything athletic, in which case the button-downs get a break.

- Likewise, his closet is basically all button-downs and fancy suits with a few exceptions including clothes suited for the cold.

Assorted

He immediately finds the MC and Cove appealing (not necessarily crushing on them) at the start of Step 3 as "beautiful beach strangers."

He'd be flattered to hear from an MC that they love his laugh/find it charming.

He says "hallelujah" because he's pretentious.

He doesn't know French, but does occasionally drop a French word he knows during Step 3 to "add to his formal flair." His Step 4 self considers it embarrassing in hindsight.

During the wedding in Baxter's Step 4, he will have Jude send along a vegan cupcake to the MC if they're vegan.

Semi-revealed during one of his mornings with the MC in Step 4, he has a multi-step daily skincare routine.

His Future

He has no preference over who he'd prefer to be the one to propose to the other in his relationship with the MC.

He would absolutely want to plan his own wedding (whether for or with the MC, depending on whether they want to be involved). He would not want another planner included.

He doesn't have a preference when it comes to last names during a wedding. He's just in awe that he's marrying someone at all.

He might consider having facial hair at some point in his life.

When it comes to having kids, he doesn't have any particular age he'd prefer to have them and is more of a "when it feels right" kind of guy. In terms of the number of kids, none is his default but he'd prefer to have two if the MC wants them, as he finds the relationship between the MC and Liz to be lovely and was personally lonely as an only child.

🍋 (below are asks that might be considered risqué - especially going to the posts themselves on some - but I wanted to include them for the sake of having all the information in one place; know that me and my prudish nature pushed through this for the people who want it and I hope you appreciate it! >:o) 🍋

This one definitely goes without saying due to being a love interest in a game where the MC can be she/they/he even down to being intersex, but Baxter is pansexual.

Baxter isn't good at being sexually active beyond being with an MC who wants that. He tries to bond with others but either fails to have his interest reciprocated due to being too forward or backtracks if he senses that someone is actually into him. His relationships are short/inconsistent for that reason.

He would never sleep with the MC during Step 3. He's already planning on leaving and wouldn't risk souring the relationship at any point even if the MC would want it. He wants company more than he wants sex and would not want to be remembered as the guy who slept with the MC and then just left without contacting them again.

Between chests and backsides, Baxter prefers the latter.

Baxter is a top (though is flexible on the matter), is into BDSM, and "kind of" has a sir kink.

#olba #our life #our life: beginnings & always #baxter ward

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 1

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 800 | masterlist

Bloody and broken your body slumps to the ground, his hands, the strong grip he had on you, still lingering like a phantom touch.

Ragged breath whoosh in and out of your lungs, the crisp air burning down your throat, your chest aching, like sharp claws are digging right into the flesh. You want to scream, but your mouth is too dry, your throat hurting too much. There is nothing but an endless void inside your heart and mind, and yet a whirlwind of fury starts to boil within.

The creaking of the door hinges is what makes you tip your head back, eyes burning, vision blurry due to the dust in them. But you see him. It’s not too late. You see his face once last time. The face you will remember forever - loathe forever.

"Azriel," you seethe, but your voice is hoarse and breaks before it can reach him. Or that’s what you think.

The young male‘s head whips towards you. He heard you. Or the swirling shadows always dancing around him heard you. They calm down, almost like they are waiting for what you are about to say. 

You brace your bloody fists on the ground, knuckles white from how hard you curl your fingers towards your palms. Your gaze drops for a split second, landing on his scarred hands, gripping the bloody hunting knife tightly. That damn knife that caused you the flesh deep wound on your belly, now dripping with blood and soon puss.

"Yes," you breathe, trying to summon every little ounce of energy you have left. You force ypur eyes to meet his. "That’s right, Azriel." Your eyes lock with his. "And I’ll remember your damn name forever…" You push up, getting on your knees. "Until I do my last breathe. I will personally carve it into your grave stone. And you will remember my name. Forever."

Your teeth are bared, blood and drool running down your chin. "You will remember my name when I rip open your throat with my claws. You will remember my name when—"

"Let’s go, Az. Our job here is done. The High Lord expects us to be back by now."

Azriel is not alone. Someone is with him. Cassian, one of the best Illyrian warriors there are. Right now…his usual confidence is gone. He looks haunted, scared, impatient. He wants Azriel to come with him. Right in this moment.

But Azriel’s lingers. The male doesn’t move. Not even when Cassian clasps his shoulder - tightly. 

Azriel's gaze is trained on you, eyes wide open.

"Az," Cassian warns, curling his gloved fingers around Azriel's biceps. "We need to leave."

Azriel snaps out of his trance and finally averts his gaze, without a look back, they leave, wind blowing through the prison, thrashing against the walls, howling. 

You are alone. Cold. Bloody. Broken. 

A cry parts your lips - full of fury and pain. You thrash your fists against the cool ground, moist with mould and grimy water. 

You are trapped in a cell that seems to be suffocating you, its walls seeming to press inwards, the space getting narrower and narrower by the second. 

You are locked in. Forever. Until the last day of your immortal life. Or until you go insane and forget even your own name. 

Another scream leaves you. Your body is shaking, trembling with cold and hurt. Eventually, you lift your gaze to look around. There is just a small cot draped in a thin blanket and a weathered stool and nothing else. The walls are made of dark stone. Moss and lichen crawl up on them, making decay even more apparent in this place. They bear scars—scratches of beings who have been in this cell before you. 

The air is heavy, thick with desperation. And it is cold. So damn cold, making you see your own breath.

You know this a place where spirits are broken, where the very essence of a person is eroded when you go insane. But your spirit won't be broken. You will get out. 

Shadows dance across the walls and make you remember him. 

Azriel. The shadowsinger. You will remember him forever. Until the day you die. Until the day you personally carve out his heart. 

He left you in pieces and the shards for you to pick up with your already wounded hands.

He is going to pay for this. They all are. 

Nothing is visible through the narrow, slit-like window that seems more like a mockery than a source of light. But you can hear a storm raging outside, branches and the wind hitting the walls of the Prison and it matches the storm brewing inside of you. You won't die here. You will get out of here. And you will get your payback. This is a promise. 

A promise to Azriel. A promise to your mate.

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

tags wotf: @goldenmagnolias @chessebookgirl @blackgirlmagicforever @mollygetssherlockcoffee @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @janebirkln @cleverzonkwombatsludge @namelesssav @sidthedollface2 @brujitafantomatico @ruler-of-hades @favsrachz @katherinejess @jesus-is-me @ashbatz @onyx-obsession @mischiefmanagers @thesnugglingduck @wandas-dream @emryb

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar #acosf #azriel shadowsinger

[nilsavatar]

DAY 31 - A/B/O

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!Avatar

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, ANGST, SMUT in the end, love bites, rubbing, sexual tension, olfactophilia (they both turn on by smelling arousal/pheromones), P in V, manhandling, oral (f receiving), face fucking, fingering, praising, cursing, pet name (ma’uniltı`ranyu - my dreamwalker), rough, knotting, dirty talk, overstimulation, edging, strangers to lovers, first time (first heat, loss of avatar body virginity), begging, difference in power (alpha-omega dynamics), soft-dom Neteyam (mention of marking, possessive behavior but he’s kind and caring), Jamie Flatters cameo. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Living in the body of an avatar is not as simple as one might think.

Little note: OMG! You have no idea how happy I am to have finally finished this fic. It has been on hiatus for so many months that I thought I would never publish it. The more time passed, the more the pressure to write something worth the long wait increased. I rewrote it so many times, but it never seemed good enough, and the editing was exhausting. I hope with all my heart not to disappoint your expectations. Please be forgiving: this is my first Omegaverse. Thank you🥰

If you would like to be tagged in future fics, please write it in the comments. I will be happy to add you all💕

Word Count: 7,6k

Masterlist - Request a fic

Aubree’s knowledge as a xenobiologist fell short in front of the challenges of living as a dreamwalker among the Na’vi.

The presence of a secondary sex was fascinating, fictional in the eyes of a human being, accustomed to a binary system. But on Pandora, things were way different. The natives displayed their primary sex (male or female) from birth, and their roles in the clan were influenced by signs that emerged during puberty. Alphas, predominantly men, possessed a massive physiognomy. Tall, muscular, strong-willed, controlled in character, yet predisposed to irascibility. Betas were the largest group, with an equal proportion of females and males, and the most human-like. Omegas, mostly women, were known for their petite and delicate build, along with a calming demeanor.

When she arrived on Pandora, she had no particular expectations of what her avatar’s designation would be. Still, no one would ever have considered a potential alpha looking at her features. Aubree was a spitfire who was unlikely to be pushed around and knew her stuff in professional terms. Someone who won’t let you get away with nothing. However, her dainty physique and conflict-avoiding tendency were clear indications she would be an omega (or beta at best). The moment she connected with the hybrid, clarity rained down on her like a burst of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Her own body erupted in a chorus of sensations, each one clamoring for attention. It was as if every nerve ending had awoken from a deep sleep, demanding to be felt. The omega within seemed to mold itself to her presence, wrapping around her with the natural warmth of a long-lost sibling's affection. Its voice, like a lullaby, soothed tenderly in her ears, caressed her senses, evoking a bittersweet nostalgia. It had waited for her for a lifetime, patiently biding, though she felt as if it had always been there; their destinies entwined for eternity. The connection felt familiar as if it had always been an integral part of her existence, hidden deep within her soul, longing to be seen. A joyous reunion with her inner essence, theirs, rather than a discovery of something new about herself. As her eyes fluttered open, the blinding white light of the hospital room assaulted her vision, her first instinct was to cry. Overwhelmed by the pent-up emotions that had been building within her.

Yet another factor played a role — a negative note. The recognition wasn’t exclusive to her; everyone around her, from the very moment she had awoken as an avatar, had sensed, smelled what she was. And this made it obvious why omegas often experienced such a designation as a condemnation.

Alphas’ attentions may be... excessive.

From a human perspective, Na’vi were naturally intrusive. The concept of personal space between the two species was totally at odds; they were prone to be close, to touch each other, to smell each other. A fundamental part of their socialization techniques. Aubree could have learned to tolerate it as a cultural trait if her alpha-designated colleagues didn’t engage in the same behaviors. They couldn’t help themselves.

“It’s the pheromones,” said matter-of-fact Max, not having any other scientific explanation. Studies on the subject were stalled. Without a vomeronasal organ connected to the brain, or terrestrial examples to refer to, they couldn’t describe the phenomenon. The only thing palpable to both of them, equally inexplicable, was that her wake was inviting. Alphas were almost reduced to a primal state around her. “You should talk to the Tsahìk about this,” Aubree mentally berated herself for not thinking of it sooner. Who better than the Tsahìk, the spiritual leader of the clan and the highest authority among healers, to provide her with the answers she sought? And maybe even help in dealing with the symptoms.

*

The healers’ tent wasn’t large. Quite the opposite, it was indeed small. The room appeared even tinier with the disorganized heap of things stacked on top of each other in a jumbled mess, creating the feeling it could burst at any time. An imminent threat to be fair. However, under scrutiny, one could discern an order in the distribution of the items. To her right, tools of various types and sizes covered the entire wall. To the left, on shelves arranged by color, were terracotta jars filled with powders and ointments. Some were large, others tiny; some had regular shapes, others were bizarre, tongued, or angular. Engraved on the bottom of each were symbols. An early form of writing, considering the People were still oral.

A little further down, the counter ran around the entire interior of the room to the nearest post of mattresses where sicks could rest. Behind the cupboard was the massiest shelf of all. Ampoules, mirrors, rolls of cloth, baskets of bandages, needles, and flowers stuffed somehow. That place was a unique contradiction, ranging from manic order to disturbing chaos. Despite the dimness and the oppressive atmosphere, the tent also emitted a serene, welcoming feeling, akin to the mystical aura of a shaman’s lair.

But one not was out of place. Post-its here and there written in… English? What were post-its doing in the Tsahìk tent? They were so out of context.

“I see the human touch doesn’t go unnoticed.” Aubree gasped, more at the dull sound of something heavy being moved across the counter than the surprise itself. A woman emerged from the myriad of baskets scattered across the floor, placed one on the wooden shelf, and emptied its contents. Her hair, just above her chin, was straight but messy. The tswin, displayed in front of her chest, obscured the huge needle that hung from her slender neck. At every movement, the beads of the intricate shawl that covered her shoulders and breasts jingled, as lively as a child’s laughter. A streaked cerulean complexion set off lemon-yellow irises fixed upon her like those of a cat.

How old was she? Her face appeared youthful, almost adolescent, yet her eyes betrayed wisdom and worldliness far beyond her years.

“You must be Aubree. I was waiting for you to show up.” It seemed as if the healer’s pupils flickered at the sound of her name. The avatar stepped forward. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite, Tsahìk of the Omatikaya.” Acting on impulse, she extended her hand, but when the young woman didn’t shake it, she hastily corrected the gesture into the typical bow of greeting and reverence. She looked amused.

“No need for formality here. We are the same age and are both researchers. We have more in common than you might think.” A smirk curved her plump lips as she put her fists on her sides. “To what do I owe the glee of your visit? I suppose you need to ask me something.” Her sudden remark made her jolt. The Na’vi woman stopped arranging the shelves and turned to look at her with anticipation. “Well?” “I wouldn’t know where to even start. It’s something I don’t fully understand,” she confessed. “Is it related to your dreamwalker body?” She nodded. “But humans cannot help you.” It wasn’t a question, but the scientist nodded anyway. Kiri drew a smile and disappeared behind a curtain that separated the room from the next one — a laboratory. After several minutes, she reappeared with a small box full of tea filters. “Have one in the morning and another in the evening. It’s a suppressant; it will quell your pheromones.”

Aubree blushed furiously. How…?

“I might be just a beta, but your wake is so strong that it knocked me out for a sec. I dare not imagine the effect you have on alphas.” “Not pleasant.” “Much too pleasant, you mean,” she chuckled. “Be careful not to abuse the drug. You wouldn’t want to find out about the side effects. And remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during estrus.”

Estrus.

The idea hadn’t crossed her mind at all when she accepted her Ph.D. and joined the AVTR Program. She was so thrilled to pursue her dream she would have accepted any job proposal. And who was she to deny she had always felt a fascination about natives? Na’vi estrus cycle was highly articulated and varied by secondary sex designation. Beta females, like humans, had a menstrual cycle and were potentially always fertile, exhibiting no visual, behavioral, or olfactory signals announcing impending ovulation.

Quite a different story for omegas and alphas.

The former went into heat three times a year, about four months between cycles, and could last up to seven agonizing days in the absence of a partner to care for them. This was their peak fertility period. The latter rutted once a year, and the length of the inter-anestrus was unpredictable. In mated pairs wasn’t uncommon for one’s heat to trigger the other’s.

“What should I do when it happens?” “Well, the most natural advice would be to spend it with a playmate, preferably an alpha, as theirs are the only pheromones that have a calming effect on omegas. There is no risk of conception for those who are not mated, so as long as your kuru’s are not entwined, let go.” “Mm, alternatives?” “Lock yourself in a shelter until it ends, away from everyone. But that is the least desirable option. It’s terribly painful to face heat alone.” “I could stay disconnected as long as my avatar is in this state.” “Risking dying of dehydration and starvation in the meantime? Or worse, that some alpha will have fun at your expense?” Kiri hastened to say, noticing the scientist’s horrified expression. “Yes, it has happened, and I assure you that the physical memory of the trauma remains, even if consciousness was not present.” “But I’ll still have to log out myself. My human body needs care, too.” “All the more reason you should find someone to look after you, and quickly. Your first heat is approaching.”

As if that were a small thing.

“My intuition tells me you’ll be fine. Now go. And drink your infusion.” She was about to leave the tent when one last question left Aubree’s lips: “How will I know I’m in heat?” “Oh, trust me, you’ll know.”

She was so absorbed in Kiri’s words that she didn’t even notice the hungry glances she was catalyzing. Especially that of a distinguished man wearing a feathered cloak. The young Olo’eyktan followed her figure as she made her way back to the human outpost until she was swallowed up by the thick undergrowth.

“She doesn’t have a mate if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice to his left exclaimed. As he turned, he came face to face with the Tsahìk, whose penetrating stare revealed a cunning expression that hinted at a deeper understanding. “I don’t see why this indiscretion of yours should interest me.” “Mm, I don’t know. Seems like she caught your interest.” “Hard to ignore with the trail she carries.” A corner of Kiri’s mouth twitched: Neteyam had just been trapped in the net. “She’s not the first omega with such a scent passing under your nose, but you’ve barely noticed the others.” The young man’s back straightened. “What's your point?” “I’m just surprised. That’s all.”

Neteyam’s gaze was again lost in scanning the spot where the avatar had vanished, lost in a thousand thoughts. Unaware of the bright, wide smile that now graced his sister’s beautiful face. The satisfied smirk of one who sees three moves ahead.

*

Upon entering the research division’s canteen, some may have felt as if they stepped into Goldilocks’ fairy tale. Everything in there was big, big or small, small, except for the stove and tables, which were set at an intermediate height so that both avatars and pilots could use them.

Aubree stared at the teapot brewing the concoction Kiri had given her; her nose stung by the pungent yet fresh smell of nettle wafting from the spout. Carefully, she poured the liquid into a cup without straining — Ingest the leaves — and drank it. Immediately, her throat burned and a tremendous itch seemed to want to tear it open.

Shit, even worse than anticipated.

She took a seat on the plush sofa, its velvety fabric enveloping her frame. As she pressed play on the remote, the screen flickered to life, casting a soft glow on the dimply lit room. Her eyes followed the vivid images of a movie for distraction, but her mind was eaten up by the searing prickle that intensified with each passing moment. The discomfort became all-consuming, shielding her from the outside world, as if the itchy sensations had woven a barrier around her, isolating the woman in her own thoughts. She was oblivious to her colleague’s presence until he sank into the cushions beside her. His arm hung weakly on the backrest, almost brushing against her shoulder. But it was his sudden loud snort that jolted her back to reality. Aubree jumped as she turned to her right and found Jamie. His left knee wedged into his opposite ankle, his foot dangling in her direction. His head rested an inch from the wall, eyes half-closed in a drowsy state.

“You look tired.”

The guy let out a low, rumbling laugh in his typical mumble before replying that he felt like a bulldozer had run over him. Fatigue weighed heavily on him, evident in the strain it put on his distinct British accent. She surreptitiously watched him, taking in the details of his avatar that closely resembled the human it was created from. His gaze remained the same, although his blue irises had now turned a striking shade of yellow. His lips and teeth mirrored the original, except for the canines. When he smiled full-mouthed, two dimples appeared on his cheeks, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners, as if they were smiling, too. His slightly protruding incisors gave his face a boyish charm, contrasting with his strong, masculine features. He radiated a sense of gentleness.

That last remark had the same effect as lightning illuminating the night. They were conversing freely, as they would have if they were humans.

An alpha and an omega.

Aubree had gotten into the habit of avoiding alphas as much as possible when she was in this body; head down, shy look, walk fast. Never within nose reach. But Jamie did not lose his cool in her presence. He didn’t sniff the air greedily. His gaze didn’t become insistent as it passed over her face. He didn’t moisten his lips endlessly or clench his jaw and fists as if to keep himself from jumping on her. Nor did hold his breath and make excuses, running for his life as he was wont to do.

The suppressor was working!

The success of the next days was enough for the unknown estrus to recede into the background, in the darkest and most hidden place in her head. Who could blame her? Her life was finally back to normal. After all, her avatar's first heat couldn't have been so terrible, could it? Just stick to this simple recipe and everything will be fine, repeated as a mantra.

Remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during the heat.

Time passed, and days turned into weeks. The taste of the medicine became more tolerable as her throat grew accustomed to its piquant flavor. Even if it wasn’t, the end justified the means. Aubree took the doses with obsessive precision, but after a few months, she noticed the effects wearing off, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it began.  The first warning came in the form of mild dizziness when she logged in, accompanied by a lingering feeling of fever. Then, her appetite waned, alternating with sudden bouts of hunger. Finally, twinges settled in her iliac fossae. She chalked it as harmless PMS, nothing she hadn’t already experienced. Most importantly, not a cause for alarm regarding her host’s performance or health; the hybrid was fully functional.

Wait a minute. Premenstrual syndrome?

As she walked down the hallway leading to the medical area, her mind wandered back to her last period. Her forefinger swiftly navigated the tablet, selecting the calendar app she used to track her menstrual cycle. She was still a long way from the start of the next one, a full two weeks, right in the middle of her fertility window. Maybe I’m ovulating. The symptoms she had been going through lately aligned with that assumption. Breast sensitivity, a slight increase in discharge, heightened lubrication, and libido.

This would have been enough to reassure her, if not for the steady, soft beeping coming from the hospital room, serving as a haunting reminder. Her stare roamed beyond the glass, taking in the circle of Link Units surrounding a pair of desks in the center, a total of eight. It settled on the last station on the far left. Number 3. Her lucky number. Well, not so lucky, given how things were going. The monitor next to it showed the status of the machine, the vitals of the subject inside, the neural activity of the two interconnected brains. The real-time image of the pilot's unconscious face.

Aubree’s face.

And so she realized the symptoms were none other than the avatar's. Ovulation, PMS, cravings were all alarm bells that the heat was near. But who gave her the coup de grâce was Jamie himself.

The guy was running towards her, calling out and weaving, eager for something he was about to share if he didn’t put the brakes on his run. With his palm up to cover his mouth and nose, he said, “Woah Bree... You stink.” His pupils showed a hint of dilation. “It’s time, isn’t it? The suppressant isn’t working anymore.” “Guess so.” “Um, I don’t wanna freak you out or anything, but...” He scratched nervously at the back of his head, no longer holding her gaze. “... if you ever need help dealing with… that. I mean, if I were in your shoes, I’d prefer a friend taking care of me over some random dude. So...” “Thanks, Jamie, for the offer. I know it’s from a genuine interest, and that you’re not trying to take advantage of the situation. I appreciate it, but maybe the Tsahìk can help me out while I’m in the shelter.” “It could last for days.” “I still haven’t come to terms that intercourses are the only way. She's possibly making it sound worse than it actually is.” “Possibly not. Thinking you’ll be locked up somewhere suffering...” "I'll log out for the night," Aubree giggled. “Besides, it would be kinda weird, don’t you think? We work together.” Now he couldn’t help but laugh. “I do science. Stuff like that won't faze me. You better hurry, based on the scent you're giving off, you could be in heat any minute. If you change your mind...” With a last playful wink, Jamie left.

Free to return to her concerns, Aubree’s smile turned into a taut line. She had to find Kiri. Quickly.

*

As she battled the relentless fever, the seemingly endless and overwhelming path to Hometree stretched out before her. Every step was a struggle, her trembling hands clutching onto the rough tree trunks for support. Fatigue weighed heavily upon her, her eyes squinting against the blinding rays of the sun as it dipped below the horizon. The intense heat made her perspire profusely, the dampness seeping through her clothes, clinging to her body like a second skin. She wished she could strip off her garments; the discomfort unbearable. The thought of dying of shame seemed trivial compared to the fire that consumed her from within, leaving her skin burning and blistering. 

Sounds of prolemuris filled the air, their calls echoing through the dense canopy. The heavy, rich, damp bouquet of lush vegetation mingled with the freshness of rain and whiffs of her scent, alerting a hunter nearby to her presence. His senses heightened. With narrowed eyes, he tasted the air, as if savoring a fine wine. The particles rose into his nostrils, painting a vivid image of Aubree in his mind. Her sweet face, adorned with sparkling eyes, and sinuous curves stood out against the dry features of the People. 

As he continued to track her trail, his pupils dilated, his senses enticed by the lingering aroma. Every step he took, he could feel the dampness of the forest floor beneath his feet, the rough texture of the leaves brushing against his fingertips. The air was alive with anticipation, as if holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable. But as quickly as the scent had captivated him, the hunter’s instincts kicked in. He realized that if he could smell her, others could too. The realization sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder of the dangers that lurked in the rainforest. With a determined resolve, he pressed on, his senses alert, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

He left his prey to almost run the distance that separated him from the woman. His omega. The moments it took him to reach her seemed like hours when they were a handful of minutes at most. He found her at the foot of a plant, curled up in a ball, her cheeks stained with tears as she whispered incomprehensible words under her breath. The man staggered, his senses assaulted by the unmistakable pungent smell of her heat stench. A wake so overpowering that left him breathless and struck, unlike anything he had ever smelled before. Teeth gritted and jaw clenched to the breaking point, he bravely advanced towards her, finally falling to his knees. If only he had resisted his natural urges. He could not allow himself to give in. Not him.

With a gentle touch, he cradled her jaw in his palm and soothed her with slow, reassuring strokes along her side, repeating, “It’s alright, it’s alright. You’re safe now. You're not alone; I'm here for you. You’re going to be okay.”  Her cry-streaked face trembled as she whispered, “Please... I can’t take it any longer,” cheeks dampened by an endless stream of tears. “Just take care of it.” He cursed in frustration, powerless that he couldn’t even bring her to his sister. Kiri was assisting a primipara in childbirth. “Please!”  Before taking her in his arms and laying her gently against his chest, the Na’vi sighed, his voice filled with resignation, “Yes, whatever you need.”

Walking backward towards the nearest shelter, he kept his gaze fixed on the path, his piercing eyes fully focused on his surroundings, scanning for any signs of danger. The very direction he had originally come from. Not that anyone could have stood up to him under those circumstances. Regardless of whether he had reached the woman first, no one would have been foolish enough to challenge the clan’s top warrior. 

Groaning, Aubree nuzzled against him, finding solace in the familiar and calming scent that emanated from his skin. Like lowered into a light, peaceful bubble, his soothing alpha pheromones everywhere. An alpha she couldn’t recognize, her vision too blurry, but to whom the omega inside her was singing a serenade. In this foggy confusion, she could only hear the beating of his heart against her ear and the oh-so-big, firm hands holding her up. And though she could not see him, starry eyes appeared in her mind’s eye, looking tenderly at her. 

Her fantasy drifted away, picturing him holding her close, his lips exploring every inch of her body, and their lovemaking leaving her in a state of euphoric surrender. A shiver ran down her spine and made her throbbing quicken at the mere thought of being touched where the tremendous burn concentrated the most. The brush of his lips on her forehead and the tip of her nose made her believe, if only for an instant, that reality had merged with her imagination. His voice lingered in the air, like a gentle gust against her mouth, hinting that they were just moments away from their destination.

Where, she would have inquired, but there wasn’t much room for consistency in her head right now, her perceptions too chaotic to form a coherent question. She would have gone to the ends of the Universe, as long as it meant she could be near him.

Next to her, on her, inside her. Her heart raced with anticipation.

As the hunter laid her down on the mattress and went to fetch water, it was no surprise that her expression crinkled, her eyelids opened slightly, and a low moan eluded her parched lips.

“You need to drink,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern, as he offered out a small bowl. The liquid inside shimmered, reflecting the soft glow of the room. However, she shook her head, causing the contents to spill onto the floor, the sound of the liquid splashing echoing through the silence. A flicker of frustration crossed his face, but it quickly melted away, replaced by a deep-seated worry as he watched her. Her arms opened towards him, inviting him into her embrace. He had never encountered such desperation and helplessness in an omega before. 

Calmly, he laid down beside her, pulling her gently towards him. As he hugged her, she could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. But it wasn’t enough. Aubree craved more, she needed more. And so he leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft and tender, like a delicate caress. When she bit into them, the taste exploded on her tongue, a blend of sweet honey and warm sunshine. The flavors danced and mingled, delighting her senses. Closing her eyes, she felt a rush of sparks and stars illuminating her mind. His tongue explored her mouth with a gentle touch, mirroring the soothing sensation of his hands as they massaged her tense shoulders.

She felt perfect, cocooned in the strength of his embrace. The soft glow of candlelight danced across their entwined bodies, casting a warm, intimate atmosphere. The warmth of his arms, his faint scent mingled with her own, enveloped her, creating a sweet, comforting haven from the outside world. Yet, an intoxicating sensation filled the air as she nestled against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. A soothing melody that resonated deep within her. Every touch, every caress, sent waves of bliss coursing through her body. In this moment, she found solace and contentment, knowing that she had found her rightful place - in his loving arms.

She was exactly where she belonged, complete and fulfilled.

When he let go, she was panting, her lungs desperate for oxygen, her heart pounding in her chest. All she could see were his eyes, lost in darkness. Delighting in her exquisite taste, surpassing his wildest dreams, he pressed his lips against her face and kissed her deeply. The overwhelming passion seemed to consume her, suffocating her with its intensity. He gently moved away, giving her a chance to catch her breath, and as he did, he positioned himself on top of her, taking off the thin t-shirt she had on.

As much as he longed to press his skin against the avatar's, the Na’vi couldn’t help but be drawn to her curvaceous physique, a stark contrast to the ruggedness of his own kind. He took his sweet time to admire her; the naked breasts, the rounder hips, he could not resist stroking them with his fingertips. Aubree’s scent brainwashed him, a slave to the instinct to take her where she was, but in the back of his mind, there was still enough clarity to realize that he was truly amazed by the wonder of the woman before him. He liked her. He really liked her. He had liked her from the first moment he had noticed her, her trail so enchanting that it could not be ignored.

Once again, he yearned to taste her, to hold her. He placed his lips upon every reachable inch, leaving his mark with his intoxicating scent. He lavished attention on her face, caressed her eyes, nibbled on her ears, traced her collarbones, and claimed her neck, burying his nose in her skin, his tongue tenderly exploring the hidden depths behind her shoulder. It was a remarkably sensitive spot, causing her to surrender to pleasure, her corneas tilting backward in ecstasy. The surge of pheromones transformed into a primal growl, resonating deep within her core; uncontrollable shivers coursed through her body. He pressed harder against her hips, releasing a second wave that intensified their connection.

Aubree wrapped her limbs around him, squeezing him in a fervent embrace. The sound of their mingling breaths filled the air as their lips met once more, a symphony of desire. Overwhelmed by the sensation of his body against hers, she reveled in the way he effortlessly fit into the curves of her form. Each kiss and caress he bestowed upon her skin brought a cascade of relief that engulfed her senses.

Through the graceful dance of their bodies, she felt the weight of his longing against her. Every movement spoke volumes of his desire to please her, to alleviate her anguish. As his lips explored her skin, a low, guttural moan escaped her throat, resonating with a mixture of gratification and pain. In the air, a spice of raw passion intertwined with a hint of vulnerability. In his touch, she could sense the depth of his caring, his soulful dominance.

She realized how similar they were: two people subjected to their nature.

Equally desperate, her lungs aching, she reached a trembling hand towards his tail, fingers brushing against the coarse texture of the loincloth. The tightly cinched knot resisted her efforts, causing each tug to reverberate with a faint sound of strained fabric. The hunter, his muscles trembling with anticipation, propped himself up slightly, his breaths mingling with hers in the dimly lit room.

Time slowed to a torturous crawl as he painstakingly unraveled the knot, his fingers working with meticulous precision. The sensation of the fiber slipping through his grasp sent shivers down his spine, a mix of alleviation and frustration intertwining in his chest. The weight of the tewng around his ankles became a physical reminder of the barriers they both longed to shed. Almost on the verge of tears, he yearned for liberation from this confining cloth, craving the proximity and warmth they shared. With a swift motion, he freed himself from the bindings, the garment rustling quietly as it fell to the ground. In an instant, he pulled her back into his embrace, his arms blanketing her with a renewed fervor.

As their bodies tangled, a rush of emotions flooded their senses — the scent of their shared desire hung heavy in the air, mingling with the musky aroma of sweat. The touch of their skin, now unencumbered, ignited a fire that burned with an intensity they could no longer deny.

The scientist loved every moment; his piercing, smoldering gaze fixated on her, lolling in every tender touch, every flattering word, but she reached her limit, and he could sense it. Suddenly, the biting cold dusk shrouded her exposed form. Her garments were violently ripped away, leaving her vulnerable. The icy sensation lasted only a fraction of a second, though, for that was all the time it took for the stranger to plunge into her doused core. His intricate braids tickled against the satin-like skin of her inner thigh. The balmy breeze of his breath danced upon her as she rolled up her sticky legs around his head. “No need for that,” she giggled, her voice trembling. The sharp edges of his canines teased her, causing a playful tingle to spread across her lips. His smile showing both desire and mischief.

With exasperating slowness, he inhaled in a long sniff, his expounded pupils pulsating as they reopened. He dove in to guzzle the juicy nectar at its source, emitting a hoarse moan with the initial sip. She gasped, feeling the vibration against her quivering lips, as a blissful wave rippled through her soul, intensifying her arousal. Gripping her silky hair, he nestled his face, exploring every crevice, nuzzling her thoroughly. His insatiable tongue and eager lips caressed the velvety walls of her intimate entrance, skillfully teasing the supple skin and delicate clitoris. His left hand, loving and firm, cupped her slender ankle, his touch sending shivers up her bone. Slowly, he trailed his hand up her smooth thigh, his fingertips tracing every contour, igniting a fiery anticipation within her. With a whispered whoop, he sank his index into her swollen, drenched core, the wetness coating his digit. There was no resistance, only an overwhelming urge for more. In sync with her ragged sighs, he added a second finger. The sound of their combined panting saturated the air as her grip tightened around his relentless, plunging fingers.

At this point, Aubree was trembling with need as every fiber within her begged to be fucked. The alpha’s dominant pheromones beguiled her, while his languid, deliberate movements captivated her gaze. His hungry eyes, dark and all-consuming held her spellbound by the way he devoured her. The crushed combination of his present and skill left her subdued, infatuated even. As her back arched in pleasure, a primordial scream tore through her open windpipe. Excitement was so intense, a fiery mixture of ecstasy and release so gratifying and flawless,  that her omega felt a devastating love than just heat. In that instant, he hit her G-spot with caustic precision one final time, causing her to pour forth in a torrential climax. A violent, passionate eruption met by the man’s eager mouth, which drank her essence like a thirsty beast.

However, something unexpected happened as the orgasm subsided. Aubree burst into tears.

Copious tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks; wet, hot streaks that burned almost as scorching as the new, unbearable fire festering in her belly. Sobs rang through the shelter as he called her back, holding her tightly in his protective embrace, now curled against his chest seeking consolation. “Shushu... ‘Upe kemwiä? (What is it?).” He murmured, his lips resting on her temples as he futilely wiped away her tear-strained cheekbones. “It doesn’t go away, it doesn’t go away.” She cried, her nails scratching his chest, desperately trying to hold on to something. Her nose rubbed against his rib cage, then his jaw to impregnate him with her perfume, his heart pounding wildly.

In a frenzy of kisses and bites and touches, he let her vent, his digits grazing along her spine, confused by the speed with which the urge had reassembled in her. The Na’vi was confused by the speed with which the itch had reassembled within her. Normally it would take a few hours after such a powerful first orgasm. Time to rest, eat, drink. Aubree badly needed hydration to combat the incessant fever that plagued her and the fluids she was losing.

“Take a moment to rest. You need to drink.” “Screw the water, I want you,” she confessed, her misty eyes fixated on him. They shimmered with unstoppable tears and thirst. Her face flushed with a violent purple. It was the most powerful heat the man had ever witnessed, and he wondered what had triggered it. That it was her first heat? Had the suppressors made her high? It was because of him? The alpha in him reprimanded him with the natural mildness of primal appetites. Just take her, she’s pleading for it. But he shook his head. It wasn’t him. He was better than that. He had been raised to care for others, not to use them. Alphas protect, that was what gave them purpose; he would do anything to protect his mate, even from herself.

Even though she wasn’t technically his mate.

Despite not being bonded in the traditional sense, their connection was undeniable. Aubree, unbeknownst to her, held a special place in his heart from the very moment they met. It was clear from the start that this outcome was unavoidable. Calling upon anything that could keep him sane, he held some sort of energy drink under her nose. “Näk (drink).” The omega sounded at this command. It was as if by speaking in his native language, he was able to assert himself a thousand times more forcefully, even if she didn't get his words. The omega knew for both of them. “Can you do this for me? Drink this and I'll give you everything you want.” She had never heard anything more beautiful. She swelled the entire contents in one gulp, her head dizzy from the sudden amount of sugar. She fell back between the pillows with a quickening pulse, even if he was stroking her hair comfortably. The fall brought a fresh whiff of her needy wake, filling the entire hut as well as his nostrils. Instinctively, the hunter took a deep breath. A breath, that stopped halfway as his brain registered the source of the trail between the woman’s legs. A shimmering fountain that caused him to let out a guttural roar of defeat. He was so weak to her.

As he settled between her groin, the tip of his erection brushed against the warrior’s waistband, still clinging to his torso. The only garment Aubree had allowed him to keep.  The sight of him, breathtakingly elegant and athletic, thanks to Eywa’s mercy, overshadowed the idea of how many other omegas had the privilege of having him inside them before her. But now he was all hers. That thought alone ignited a fresh wave of excitement to blossom. He pressed his full weight onto her, and she wasted no time running her hands over his taut, strong, muscular back. Every contour, every sinew, was exquisitely formed and enticing under her touch. The closeness they shared, their bodies pressed against each other, sent a thrill through her. He smelled so damn good, hard and bothered for her. The way he responded to her advances only heightened her desire, flaring up a foreign heat in her veins, surpassing even her own natural instincts.

His shaft, long and thick, glided inside her, stealing her a gasp as he filled her in one fluid motion. Pleasure trembled through her, evident in her labored breathing and tightened walls. The barriers of her depths easily acclimated to his divine cock, satisfying even her smallest wishes. It was almost embarrassing to realize how every aspect of him was designed to please her — the texture of his body, the touch of his skin, the taste of his lips, the sound of his voice, his tantalizing scent.

She couldn’t help it and was somehow ashamed of her weakness. Her intimacy clenched at some point, in response to the blows he gave her, the few but deep sounds he made. So securely he gasped at the faint pain before rushing to her mouth in a ferocious kiss. Demanding, needy. He bit and pulled at her lip, pushing his tongue to lick the arch of hers, to suck her teeth, making her vibrate around him.  Had she mentioned that his lips were amazing? Yes, she had, but who cared? She would have repeated over and over again how unworldly they melded with hers in such a sublime way that they would have stunned her if she weren’t for the crazy pheromones already. Aubree didn’t even know who this man was. Her senses tangled, preventing her from recognizing his face or voice, despite a nagging suspicion of familiarity. Her mind sporadically focused before touch or smell overpowered it. Now taste. His lips felt like fresh fruit, sweet and full-bodied. She would have spent hours luxuriating in them, but the impression she was about to burst grew and grew, driving and unbearable.

She moaned uncontrollably as the Na’vi drew back his hips until only the tip rested against her core to thrust again before effortlessly thrusting again. Each new point of contact stung inside her. The avatar felt an insatiable desire to take all of him, to never let go. Her heart filled with euphoria — little bites, caresses, kisses ran through her body, which now smelled like his. She tugged at his hair as he made his way back to her mouth, her wet thighs encircling his waist, her heels nestled in the dimples of Venus. Clinging to him as if the contact of his epidermis, his chest, his arms weren’t enough. She craved more. Their hearts pounded in unison, like furious galloping horses, their passion untamed. “Tsahey, sı`ltsan’efu (oh hell, feels good),” he grunted, his timbre low and gravelly. Kind of a dirty move whispering praise in Na’vi into her ear. His words danced to the tips of her toes from the dull joy it gave her to feel appreciated, as the sound of their frames colliding echoed in the hut, a symphony of lust and devotion. Her cries grew shrill, a melodic chorus that fueled his every thrust. He was so hot, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, as he moved faster, the friction intensified, sending sparks shooting through all of her body. Aubree clasped her legs around his waist, hankering for everything he offered. His grip on her shoulders steadied, his fingers digging into her skin. The force of his thrusts increased, each one hitting her with a mix of pleasure and pain. Her nails dragged along his back, leaving red trails in their wake.

The man rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingled; his lukewarm exhales covering her face and his ears full with her gasps. The smell of their passion hung heavy in the small space, a heady mixture of steam and need. He watched her in both ecstasy and disbelief. The sight of such intensity in his gaze overpowered her, but she clung to it, relishing every moment when his dick struck a sensitive bundle of nerves.

As she felt his knot dwell, alpha pheromones crept into her subconscious, drowning her omega in the musky aroma of dominance and submission, an exhilarating fog that pushed her further into surrender. The place seemed to darken as her soul naturally responded to him; her pulse hastening with trepidation. Each frantic gasps for oxygen a struggle against the sweeping emotions. She had no choice but to capitulate, to cry out for him. It felt as if her very DNA had been written to covet him, to lock him inside, but the native held her back, prolonging the exquisite torture.

“That’s not a good idea. It’s your first time.”

A new growl escaped her windpipe, vibrating hungry rage. A rumble that allowed no response, a warning that made him bend his ears back and sink to the point of no return. His stare fixed on her with a longing that knew no bounds. Now only orgasm could free him from her clutches. His expression seemed pained, a flicker of hesitation, but it lasted only a second before the most animalistic and savage sounds she had ever heard rose from the back of his throat. The researcher bit his neck to stifle a moan louder than the others, desperate to repress the burden that threatened to consume him. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop for concern of hurting her. He gasped, his grip on her hips toughening as he plunged more fervently, the rhythmic slapping of their bodies reverberating through the room.

“Don’t ever come out. Stay in forever,” she stammered in confused, fading whimpers. His reaction was harsh, his hips digging with such force that the knot scraped hard against her walls, inducing her to writhe in ecstasy. “Nga tsun ke pawm fula tsonta oe… Nga zir fìtxan tsìltsan (You can’t just ask me that… You feel so amazing).” His voice strained with lust. In response, the woman gyrated her hips even deeper against him, moaning with abandon until he filled her completely. His burning seed spread inside her, as he released a final wave of pheromones that triggered an orgasm so powerful it knocked her unconscious — her frame succumbing to the overwhelming fulfillment that exhausted her. “Are you okay?” He kissed her temple, but she could barely nod, still breathless. “Good.”

Amid that swirling sea of dizzying, carnal lechery, the Na’vi caught a whiff of her enticing trail, drawing him in like a magnetic force. He twisted her neck gently, planting kisses and licks behind her ear, where it released all sorts of fragrances that blended with the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Aubree shivered, her skin tingling as he grazed his teeth over her sensitive flesh. The aroma of her essence intensified here, so potent it could dance on his tongue, so tantalizing to explore further.

As he indulged in a small taste, her partner’s presence surged within her; his dick twitched, and automatically her inner walls throb around him. Just as her apprehension grew, fearing his bite, his lips found her ear where he murmured: “Don’t be afraid. I won’t mark you until you ask me to.”

Suddenly, a clarity washed over her, as if the dense intoxication of hormones had dissolved, leaving her lucid in its wake. The researcher pushed her lover away, panic coursing. Her narrowed eyes hinted at a revelation, now that she could finally name the alpha who had guided her in her very first heat, still mating with her with a satisfied and dangerous grin.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya.

Her eyelids suddenly grew heavy. Aubree fought not to close them, but with each blink it became harder and harder to keep them open. She felt his fingertips brush the hair from her face, then caress one cheek as he lowered himself to place a light kiss on her forehead.“Hahaw, ma’uniltı`ranyu. Nga kin ne tsurokx. Tätxaw ngeyä tawtutetokx. Oe veaywng nga kay sìn. (Sleep, my dreamwalker. You need to rest. Return to your human body. I’ll take care of you from now on).”

Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

@neteyamssyulang @layla2-49

#lunaskinktober2023 #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #neteyam sully #neteyam smut #neteyam x oc #neteyam x avatar!oc #neteyam x avatar!reader #avatar neteyam #neteyam avatar #avatar smut #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x f!reader #neteyam x avatar reader #neteyam x avatar oc #neteyam suli x reader #atwow neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fic #avatar oc #neteyam angst #avatar au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha/beta/omega verse #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha/omega

[awhitegirlspassion]

Why black men are the beacons of hope for us white women

As a snowbunny I sometimes find myself to be overwhelmed by a feeling of gratitude and sincere admiration for black men.

Not only because of how you black men manage to stay strong and stay true to your beliefs, but also of how you cope with prejudice and narrow-minded white males in a world that is changing. Changing for the better thankfully. Changing from a society where there's an underlying prejudice against interracial relationships between white women and black men and where we women are often shamed as "promiscuous" or as "bimbos" if we have the nerve to be attracted to black men. A society where its okay for white men to have hundreds of preference when it comes to women (especially about how we look), but where its not okay for us women to have any standards. Especially if that standard revolves around being attracted to black men.

In a new world filled with gender confusion and increasingly white effeminate masculinity, black men stands tall and firm as masculine beacons of hope for us white women! You are strong and you dare to stay true to your nature and your inner values and you dare to be the kind of men who many of us white women desire. The masculinity of black men are often mistaken as something primitive and outdated, but in my opinion that's nowhere the case! Your masculinity makes you strong in a world that is changing fast and your strength makes us women feel safe and protected and loved and needed.

You need our femininity to balance out your masculinity and it's in this sphere of attraction that our love and attraction for each other grows! The truth is that black men have always been a central part of womens desire and attraction and fantasies!  The only difference is that the world have changed in a way where it isn't the standards or beliefs of white men that rule our common social consciousness or values any longer! This means that more and more of us women are ready to be open about our attraction towards black men and are ready to openly commit ourselves to being exclusively into black men. I can't help but to be in awe and to be amazed of you black men! The way you have coped with a prejudice world and the way you manage to stay strong and firm and true to your beliefs!

You deserve all the love and admiration from all of us and its something that is becoming more and more apparent among us younger white women! You are our strong beacons of masculinity and hope while white masculinity is slowly fading away leaving more and more frustrated white women. I have said it many times before and I will say it again, I truly believe that many of us white girls will find ourselves to be happier and more fulfilled being with a black man. Just this past year, I have experienced 2 of my closest girlfriends dumping their white boyfriends only to actively search for and dating black guys. The world is changing! And at the center of this new world, stands a black man with his strong arms around the waist of a white woman. This is the beacon of hope that surrounds us and promises us a better world where black men are in power and where we white women stand to support them and admire them. I often feel grateful to you black men! You deserve our awe and admiration and love!

#snowbunny thoughts #snowbunny #snowbunny dreams #bnwo #white women evolving #sexy black men #queens of spades #interracial love #bbc #bnwo propaganda #interracial relationship #interracial #interracial kissing #white women for black men #white women black men #white women who love black men #no white boys

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember me? (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

•○🌑○•

Her blood boiled as she watched Rhys talk to her son. Fin nodded eagerly before turning back to the drawing in front of him. She had seen enough when the bastard had the audacity to to hold her son's hand and help him with the painting.

"Fin! I'm back baby!" Y/n announced, walking up behind her son. He looked up smiling as the High Lord went rigid.

"Can I finish this mama? Its almost done." He said, pointing to the paper he was colouring on with crayons. Y/n smiled and nodded.

"I need to talk to someone. You finish it, I'll be right here." And then she had grabbed Rhys's collar and tugged, and he stood without much fuss, following her out the doors and around the corner.

"Y/n–"

"No Rhysand. What about 'stay away from him' do you not understand?"

"You can't keep me away from him forever. He's my son–"

"He stopped being yours the moment you left me and him to fend for ourselves."

"I didn't know!"

"Exactly. Because if you knew, you wouldn't have left and I would never have found out what an asshole you are. And, despite how much I hate you for leaving us, I'm grateful that you did, because it opened my eyes to how distrustful males are. My son deserves better than that."

"She was my mate! Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing." His eyes looked so helpless that for a moment Y/n felt bad. But then she shook her head. She needed to be strong, for her son, and for her own sanity.

"I wouldn't have done that, Rhys. Because, no other love would compare for the one I had for you. I would atleast not have abandoned you without preamble." Her eyes prickled, and she looked away from the male she had loved more than she had loved her own life. "Stay. Away. From. Him."

"How do you expect me to stay away from my own blood? I can't do it, when he'd be in front of me. You can't do this to me. You can't do this to him."

"If him being in front of you is the problem, then you won't see him again."

"What..."

"I was here because someone said that this place would keep us safe from my father. Guess I'll find another court to keep him safe."

"You can't..."

She gave him a hard stare. "I can and I will."

Then she turned and went to retrieve her son. As soon as she entered the art studio, Fin ran upto her, giggling.

"Hello again mama!"

Y/n smiled. "Hello baby. Did you enjoy?"

"Yes! I also made a new friend. Come." He dragged her to where Feyre was sitting, a small boy speaking enthusiastically to her as she smiled. Fin touched the other boys shoulder, who immediately grinned when he turned. "Mama, this is Nyx."

"Hello Nyx. How are you doing today?" Y/n asked, crouching down. She knew exactly who Nyx was, she had heard that the High Lord of Night had a son, but she hadn't wanted to believe it.

Nyx looked exactly like Fin, and it unnerved her. Only difference was that Fin's eyes were so dark they were almost black, and his hair, which was white. Y/n's mother had white hair, and that's where Fin got it from.

Feyre's hand which was resting on Nyx's shoulder tightened, and when Y/n glanced at her, she realised Feyre thought Y/n wanted to hurt him. The both of them maintained eye contact, for long enough that Feyre understood that Y/n would never hurt any child, it didn't not matter that the child in question was a stark reminder that her first and only love had left her for someone else.

"I am good. How are you?" Nyx said, then glanced at his mother to see if he'd said the right thing. Feyre smiled and nodded.

That was when Rhysand stepped into the art studio. When Y/n glanced at him, he froze. When he found her talking to his son, he came to stand next to Feyre, his eyes now locked on Fin.

"Mama, remeber how I said I wanted a baby brother? Nyx's younger than me and I feel like he's my younger brother." Fin said, and Nyx nodded enthusiastically as the two boys started taking excitedly.

The two kids didn't notice that their parents had gone rigid, staring at them.

Y/n glanced at Feyre, who stared at her, her eyes swirling with emotion. Y/n swallowed before smiling. "That he could be. But can we talk about it some other time? Is getting late. We need to go home."

"Okay mama. Bye bye Nyx." Fin waved at Nyx, who waved back.

Before they could exit the studio though, Feyre walked upto Y/n.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you two were–"

But Y/n smiled, shaking her head. "Its okay. It's not your fault he's an– a bad person." She barely stopped herself from saying asshole. Fin peeked at her curiously as she said goodbye to Feyre, patting her shoulder, before walking out.

•○🌑○•

Y/n stared fondly at her son as she and Fin sat on a bench right next to the Sidra. They were in an ice cream parlour's outdoor seating area as Fin happily licked away at the treat in his hands.

It had been a week since they had gone to the High Lady's art studio. He had expected to go there again, but Y/n didn't trust Rhysand, and so Fin had given her an offer. She had to let him have ice cream for a whole week without restrictions and paint with him if she didnt want him to go to the art studio.

Y/n had, of course, agreed, shaking her head at her sons antics. That little boy was smart, and he had somehow picked up on his mother's unease around Nyx's father.

After she had agreed to his terms though, he had laughed and said he didn't even want to go there again and just wanted her to agree to his demands. Y/n had gaped at his little figure as he ran off to play with his toys.

While Y/n was busy with her thoughts, she didn't realise Fin had finished his ice cream and was now staring at someone nearby.

Y/n realised it was a male, who leaned against the railing and was making faces at Fin, who giggled. He had red hair and amber eyes, and he was easily the most beautiful man Y/n had ever seen. She smiled. It was heartwarming that a stranger would do something to make her son happy.

"Mama, he has red hair." Fin stated, making her blink.

"Yes darling, he does." Y/n muttered as she cleaned his face of the sticky dessert, wiping his hands down. "Why are you telling me that?"

"I have not seen many people with red hair." He said before jumping off the bench and running towards the exit. He was halfway to it when he tripped over his own feet.

Y/n shot up, running to him. But before she could get to him, the stranger was already helping him up.

"You shouldn't run. You'll get hurt." The red haired male said as he brushed down Fin. Y/n reached them just then, crouching next to the male.

"Are you okay? How many times do I have to tell you to not run." She murmured, clutching her son to her chest. When he pulled away, there were fat tears running down his chubby cheeks. "What happened? Did you get hurt?" He nodded, pointing to his knees, which had scraped and blood seeped from the tiny cut on it. "Oh my poor baby. We'll get you patched up, yeah?" He nodded again.

"I don't think you'll be able to walk very nicely with that wound. Let me help you." He suddenly picked Fin up, standing.

"It's okay. I'll take him. " She stood and turned to the male, who shook his head.

"Please, I'll be happy to help."

Y/n knew it was dangerous to trust someone who she just met, but for some reason, she felt like she could trust this male. So she told him that her house was nearby.

During the whole walk, she stayed silent, studying the man, who was talking to Fin as if his life depended on it. She felt like she knew him somehow, but that would be impossible.

Soon, they were at the apartment that they lived in, and the man dutifully handed her son back to Y/n.

"I don't think I caught your name."

"Eris." He smiled, looking for any reaction on her face.

She wracked her brain for something, anything that she might know about an Eris. And then it clicked.

"You're the High Lord of Autumn Court. What are you doing in Velaris?"

He shrugged. "I was allowed entry due to an alliance with the High Lord. First time visiting this place."

Y/n nodded. Then she said goodbye to Eris, turning to go into her apartment when Fin waved to him, smiling. "Bye bye."

"Bye Finnian."

"Will we meet again?" Y/n froze, staring at the little kid in her arms before glancing at Eris.

"I sure hope so. And if your mother allows it." He said, his eyes twinkling and curling at the edges.

Fin cheered, before Eris bowed and walked away, hands in pockets. Y/n watched after him, wondering for a moment before entering her house.

She knew if Fin met Eris again, he would be very happy. She hoped they would, as she wanted nothing more than her son's happiness.

And somewhere, deep inside her soul, something ancient and primal would also be happy, but she didn't know that.

The ancient and primal thing which had begun to come out of hiding, slowly but surely.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess

#rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #rhysand #Rhysand fanfic #feyre #feyre archeron #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #acowar #rhysand x reader #rhysand x feyre #rhysand x oc #cassian #nessian #cassian acotar #acosf #a court of silver flames #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #rhys acotar

[ladydostoevsky]

Idk of request are still opens, but if no you can just ignore this haha.

Sooo can you do an escenario of hua cheng x male!reader x xie lian where the reader was the best friend of xie lian before xian le fell and like with the power of character backstory they knew hua cheng aswell.

That was like the context, but my request is like:

After the 800 years of previous events, xie lian, hua cheng and the reader meet again at the banyue arc(with xie lian meeting hua cheng fisrt ofc) and when they saw the reader (who ill suppose died by saving xie lian from something and u know, ✨️drama✨️) they can't belive it cus his soul should have been banished and welp. After the end of the thing (timeskip) when the reader tries to leave after helping em' with the mission, both xie lian and hua chen stop him from doing so. But why did M/N tried to leave as fast as possible? Hoho, well let's say he accidentaly inhaled a flowers scent wich had an strong afrodasic and didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of his dearest friends and tried to leave (failling miserably) and we all know both of our bois are so fricking touch starved at this point and here is where the smut makes it's presentation. (idk much about that so u can just wite it however you'd like, but reader should be the bottom oh yes hahah)

ik its a large request so if its too much just ignore me haha 😭.

A tender touch🌺

Xie Lian & Hua Cheng x m!reader

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, novel and donghua spoilers, little bit violence, breeding, m!sex

A/N: I’m not the best when it comes to smut, especially when it’s threesome so warning, this is really cringe🥲 but I hope you like it

The floor of the temple was icy, freezing, just like the atmosphere which surrounded them. Fear seeped through y/n, who was kneeling on the cold ground, before the altar of a temple on which Xie Lian was chained on. He didn’t know if he was more afraid of the creature, the monster with white half crying-smiling mask or this thing hurting Xie Lian - his prince, his best friend, his beloved. The latter. In his hand, was the little ghostfire who tried to keep them out of the temple and warn them. y/n felt pity for it.

He bowed down, his forehead touching the ground. ‘’Please. I beg you. Take me. Have mercy on His Highness. Whatever you plan to do, please take me instead of him.’’ y/n straightened himself a little and looked with teary eyes towards the white clothed creature, pleading, ‘’I beg you… punish me for whatever he has done,’’ he whispered desperately. ‘’Y/N! STOP IT! I FORBID YOU TO SAY ANOTHER WORD. YOU WILL NOT SACRIFICE YOURSELF FOR ME!’’ Xie Lian screamed. The creature laughed out loud, slowly moving towards yn, like a predator. ‘’DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM, YOU FUCKER. LEAVE HIM OUT OF THIS.’’ The Crown Prince screamed but to no avail, the creature ignored him. y/n gulped as he got closer. ‘’My my, are you a brave one,’’ he stopped right in front of him and crouched down to be on the same eye level, the little ghost still in his hand, ‘’and so stupid. Willing to give your life for someone else's sins and choices.’’

y/n eyes widened slightly after the realization. He whispered to the mask in front of him, ‘’kill me instead then.’’ The little fire started to glow even more, little sounds coming from it. ‘’Oh I will. Let’s see what face His Highness will make after it.’’ The next second Fang Xin pierced through y/n.

y/n looked at the ground, in shame and sadness. He didn’t dare to look His Highness in the eyes, or even San Lang, who he knew was actually Hua Cheng. ‘’I don’t understand…how?’’ The Crown Prince was in shock, in disbelief. Xie Lian saw his best friend being killed in front of his eyes by White No-Face. Same as Xie Lian, Hua Cheng felt some kind of betrayal and hurt, he - being a little pitiful and weak ghostfire - also was in that temple and saw everything. If he really somehow survived, why didn’t he come looking for His Highness? It has been 800 years…

‘’Tell me, how are you here? What happened to you?’’ Xie Lian asked, his earlier shock turning into a sadness. y/n looked at San Lang then Xie Lian. ‘’Did you really think he would have let me die? That easily? My life was worse than hell, a constant torture after that night.’’ He looked away from them, towards the darkness of the cave. All hidden and locked up memories coming back to him. ‘’He did that only to torment and manipulate you. And me.’’ Xie Lian let out a sight he realized he was holding. Hua Cheng’s eyes were full of sorrow. They looked at each other then back to y/n.

He looked at Xie Lian, ‘’I’m sorry, Your Highness. After that, I didn’t dare to show my face anymore. Not like the monster would have let me. I was afraid. I hated myself for I couldn’t save you in the end. I blame myself till this day. You had to go through so much because I was too weak to protect you.’’ Hua Cheng’s dead heart warmed in that moment. After all, he felt the exact same way. He blamed himself for not protecting the two when they needed it the most. But he is here now, and he will protect them for eternity, from now on.

‘’Can you forgive me, Your Highness? I understand if you don’t want to or-’’ Xie Lian gave a sad smile and moved closer to y/n. ‘’There is nothing to forgive. You did nothing wrong. It was never your fault, it was White No-Face who did this. I just wish you hadn't been there. I’m sorry you had to go through this, because of me.’’ The prince leaned closer and hugged his former friend. It took the man by surprise but gladly accepted it. The warmth of his best friend being so foreign to him. He locked eyes with San Lang who looked at him with sadness. y/n gave him a sweet smile of reassurance, for which the Ghost King smiled back.

After that the three stuck together the whole mission. y/n and San Lang got to know each other more, surprisingly they clicked immediately. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian still didn’t know how y/n survived that night. He wasn’t a god, neither a ghost so what was he? But they understood that it was not their business if y/n didn’t want to tell them.

Currently, everyone was looking for the Banyue Fern to use as an antidote for the scorpion-tailed snake’s venom. Unfortunately, y/n had strayed too far from the others. He realized it when he found flowers that shouldn’t be growing in a desert. They were bright, colorful and smelled so nicely. They were tempting. They were so very familiar…

NO! The land of the tender! They were the tender flowers that contained strong aphrodisiacs. The moment he realized he backed off. Thank the heavens that these flowers didn’t speak or he would have surely done something he couldn’t even imagine. He ran back to the others, hoping that the aphrodisiac didn’t make it to his system.

After all the hell was over and the mission completed, Earth Master Ming Yi and Wind Master Shi Qingxuan came to take Pei Xiu back to heaven realm. The gods exchanged a few words. Beside Hua Cheng, y/n felt ill. His body temperature had risen after the tender flowers. He was sweating and his knees felt weak. He holds one hand in front of his lower face to hide his reddened face and to seal his mouth. Hua Cheng turned to him, concerned, ‘’y/n? Is everything alright? You seem… sick.’’ Only thing he could do was nod his head and turn away from him.

With every passing second he could feel more sweat forming on his skin, he wanted to let out sounds he thought he could never form. He felt a painful pulsing between his legs. Seeing Xie Lian and Hua Cheng next to him didn’t help, it made it all worse. Slowly, he started to back off but Hua Cheng grabbed his forearm before he could escape. Xie Lian walked over to them. ‘’y/n, what’s wrong?’’ He walked to him and put his palm on his forehead to feel his temperature. ‘’You are burning! You must have a fewer.’’ Feeling his prince’s touch he put his hand over his mouth even harder. He let out weird noises that neither of the two understood. y/n shook his head. ‘’Gege, we have to get him somewhere else. I don’t think it’s sickness.’’

The two brought y/n to an old empty house of Banyue. They put him on the floor, making him sit against a wall. Only sound that was heard was y/n’s constant breathing. With shaky hands he tried to open his robe. ‘’Y-you two… you h-have to leave.’’ Xie Lian was first to react. He crouched down in front of him, ‘’we will not. Tell us what happened?’’

He helped y/n and tore the robe’s front open so he could get some cold air. His fingers brushed against y/n’s hot skin which made him let out a little whine. Xie Lian’s breath stuck, but he didn’t back off. ‘’T-the flowers, t-tender…’’ the arousal he felt made it hard to talk. San Lang came next to Xie Lian and put his hand on y/n’s chest, feeling his fast heartbeat. y/n wrapped his fingers around San Lang’s wrist, not wanting him to pull away.

‘’That’s what I thought,’’ Hua Cheng whispered, mostly to himself. ‘’Please…’’ y/n’s other hand made it to his hard erection. His hand was quickly replaced with Xie Lian’s, ‘’you helped us today so well, it’s only fair if we help you now.’’ The prince and the Ghost King gave a knowing smile to each other. Hua Cheng tore the whole robe to shreds, freeing the whole body beneath it free to the cold air of Banyue. Xie Lian leaned in and kissed his old friend, his- no- their beloved.

His tongue taking the lead and exploring every corner he could find. His fingers ran delicately over y/n soft pink nipples. The man didn’t see the point to hold back anymore and let out all the sounds that were stuck in his throat. Hua Cheng also leaned closer and wrapped his fingers around y/n’s precum leaking cock. He slightly pressed on to the pink tip which made y/n whine against Xie Lian’s mouth.

‘’Don’t worry, love. We will take good care of you,’’ whispered Hua Cheng. Xie Lian leaned back, a string of saliva connecting the two. ‘’Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, y/n?’’ Xie Lian said while taking off his white robe. Hua Cheng followed and his red clothing was thrown somewhere he could care less. This time Xie Lian took y/n's pulsing cock and started slowly moving his hand up and down. San Lang latched his mouth onto y/n’s sensitive nipple, kissing and teasing it. y/n moaned their names, feeling himself nearing. ‘’X-Xie Lian…nghh San L-Lang, I’m g-gonna cum.’’ Xie Lian’s other hand played with y/n’s smooth hair, ’’cum for us, dear.’’ He came without a second thought.

The Crown Prince gave him a sweet, loving smile, pecked his darling’s soft lips and started moving towards his abdomen, leaving butterfly kisses behind. He took all of y/n in his mouth, swallowing his cum in the process. With his experience in sword swallowing in the past it wasn’t very hard. He had no gag reflex.

While Xie Lian was busy with y/n’s cock, San Lang used his own precum and saliva as a lube and smeared it on his own hard cock. y/n felt his second orgasm coming. In ecstasy he grabbed Xie Lian’s hair, not wanting him to pull away. ‘’Y-your Highness…mm,’’ The prince started to run his fingers gently across y/n’s body. Being so hot, bothered and sensitive, this act threw him over the edge again and he came deep into Xie Lian’s mouth. ‘’Xie Lian…’’ he breathed out a whisper, barely hearable. ‘’Such a good boy, aren’t you? So good for us,’’ Hua Cheng teased with his low voice. The man beneath let out a desperate whine, knowing what’s coming next. The black haired king leaned closer, giving him a gentle kiss on his forehead and lips. ‘’I’ll try to be gentle.’’ Xie Lian went to y/n’s neck and started to suck marks into his skin.

San Lang positioned himself in front of y/n’s unprepared entrance and slowly entered. Feeling soft and thigh walls around him he let out a grunt, entering inch by inch. y/n let out loud cries from the pain. Tears started to drip down from the corners of his eyes. Xie Lian shushed him, assuring that everything was alright. He kissed the tears away and started to abuse his mouth with his tongue again. When Hua Cheng was finally all in, and confirmed that y/n wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, he started moving his hips. At the beginning it was slow and gentle, as time went by he started to speed up. Rocking in and out like an animal in heat.

He pulled y/n’s legs more towards him to hit that one spot that surely made his darling lose it. y/n grabbed onto Xie Lian to steady himself. ‘’Gods y/n…’’ San Lang moaned, feeling his peak coming. He pressed y/n into a mating position, to look him into his beautiful tear stained eyes while he cums deep into his gore. y/n screamed, feeling overstimulated. ‘’S-San L-Lang… p-please,’’ with a few more pumps he came inside.

After a few moments he pulled out, panting. Feeling himself coming down from his high. He watched how some of his seed tried to come out of y/n. He pushed it back inside with his fingers, smiling, feeling some kind of pride. ‘’You are so beautiful like this. Now my beloved…’’ Xie Lian moved away from his side and placed himself on top of y/n. He already knew that it was going to be a long night.

#heaven official's blessing #danmei #x reader #tgcf x male reader #tgcf #tgcf fanfic #tgcf x reader #mxtx tgcf #x male reader #hua cheng #hua cheng x reader #xie lian x male reader #xie lian #xie lian x reader #hua cheng x male reader #mxtx x reader #mxtx #hualian #hualian x reader #smut #tgcf smut #tgcf spoilers

[lovdlydaz]

black!top!amab reader x bttm!satoru gojo

gojo had been acting very strange recently… he’s been more quiet around you, stumbling over his words when he tried. so, you ask him about it one day, the outcome is better than you could've ever thought.

warnings: nsfw, anal, oral (m!recieving), rimming, dirty talk, mentions of ‘daddy’, frotting, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms

the days went by as always, and as a teacher and mentor at jujutsu high, the children were very… interesting. you did have a home-room class, but you were always in the teacher’s lounge since the kids barely stayed/cared enough to pay attention to you. the only time you were teaching was when you were forced to, or when your kids went on missions. you didn’t hate them for being disrespectful towards you, hell, you could care less about a bunch of moody teenagers wanting to do their own thing. you were the same when you were young, so you took advantage of the opportunities you had alone.

so one day, when you saw one of the sorcerers here, and the most powerful one just walk up to you casually like his presence didn’t intimidate you in some way, that was the day you realized something.

you see, you were muscular but with a sleeper build. you had lean curvy texture all down your body and veins crawling up your arms like thick vines on a tree. you were strong in a physical sense, but your cursed technique came nowhere near as strong as gojo’s. yours was mediocre compared to his, but honestly… anyone’s was. you weren’t special, but that changed from that day forwards.

when you were in the lounge yet again, sipping on some beverages the sorcerers had bought and brought, the tall white-haired male walked in yet again. but… his aura seemed different. see, when he walked in his confidence went from its peak to its lowest, locking eyes with you then automatically turning his head in the other direction. that was weird to you, and it made you more concerned than boastful.

your eyes shifted from the movie you were watching on your phone to the jujutsu sorcerer, eyeballs gawking at the boy like he was prey. and right now, he acted like it. it was the way you stared at him with no regard for his personal comfort. it was how you just eyed him like a 5-course meal, like he was something you could devour in an instant. and he was.

satoru didn’t know it, but you become indoctrinated by him from the first moments you two made eye contact. it was during the teacher meeting before the students came, you both were there and decided to sit next to each other on the couch. you weren’t new, but you weren’t exactly that familiar with the school neither. you had been there for 3 years, this year being your 3rd. gojo hadn’t attended any school meetings before this one, so you never saw him.

you were zoned out while the principal was talking, and it seemed gojo was as well. but, you looked over to him and he looked back, giving you a playful smile then turning back to the principal. your heart jumped, basically leaping out of your chest as you stared at your shaky hands. you put them down immediately once principal called you out, shaking you head at any questions he asked you.

it was that faithful day when you knew, you had fallen hard for the sorcerer.

you didn’t know if he felt anything back, and honestly that was to be expected. he was a wild card, a man with an attitude like no other. his whole demeanor was unpredictable along with his mood, one moment he could be joyful and annoying everyone around him then the next he could be pouty and acting like a man child because he didn’t get something he wanted. oddly enough, that didn’t stir you away from him. it pulled you closer to him, but you never dared to tell another teacher in the school that. well, besides your entire class.

listen, you weren’t all too sure as to how you spilled your deepest darkest to the three little teenagers you had to teach. and who did these three have to be? well, his three disciples. yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro and nobara kugisaki. the female of the group squealed with excitement at the news, she always knew that you had had something for their lovely leader of their “pack”. the two males were just confused, well, one of them were. that one was itadori, he didn’t really process much stuff just right but you knew his questions were in good faith.

questions such as ‘how does that work?’ and ‘are you a girl in disguise?’ slipped past his pink lips, all you could do was chuckle. he was so clueless, but he had to have been your favorite student. he had a mind of a toddler, but acted so brave in the right situations. the fushiguro son just nudged the pink-haired teenager on the side from the last question, the male hissing and holding his side while pouting. “what was that for megumi? i was just asking because he likes a man and usually women like men!” yuji whined, but the black-haired male just did a small swipe of his hand from underneath his jaw, indicating for the teen to stop. itadori complied, staring down at the floor and bottom lip coming out in a quiver.

nobara had many more… respectful questions than itadori did. “how did you realize you liked him m/n?” she asked, and that made you go quiet. why would you tell some children about your personal feelings? why would you vent to teenagers who couldn’t really understand the depths about love and the depths of how terrible this love between you and the strongest sorcerer in the world was? well, you didn’t know why, but you just started to pour it all out.

after that day, those three little kids were always giving you and gojo flirtatious stares every time you both were near each other. you always shooed them off like some flies, but they would just giggle and run away. satoru was always confused, but you never spoke a word about it with him. you never wanted to, were never willing to do so.

you felt as though the day would never come of him admitting his feelings, or you admitting yours. you both were busy adults just trying to make it by, however you just had a little bit more on your plate than gojo. which, was saying something. but you never really had time to deal with any silly quarrels between adults or the children, today however... was different.

today was another day of sitting in the teacher's lounge, not a care in the world as to how your children were doing. you were just biting on a snack bar before someone came bursting in through the doors, that being gojo. the white-haired male was giggling before he noticed you were in the room, so he did his usual thing of shutting up and walking to the other side of the room. you just sighed softly before getting up out of your comfortable lounge chair and walking towards said side of the room.

today would be the day you finally confess.

atleast, you hoped so.

but as soon as you decided to get close to satoru the male stood up without saying a word, walking back to the other side and sitting somewhere else. now that was a little annoying, wasn't it?

so it was like a secret cat and mouse chase, back and forth you scuffled after the sorcerer like it was nobody's business. which it wasn't.

after the 5th and FINAL time gojo decided to stand up once again, you grabbed his arm with your strong grip while looking up at him with fierce eyes. "why do you keep running away, satoru?" you asked, deep voice ringing through the empty and echoey room. the smaller male's eyes went wide, thank god he was wearing his blindfold. he stayed completely quiet, his arm was noticeably shaking in your hand. you couldn't help but let out a deep chuckle, letting go of the male and patting down a spot next to you. you had your arms and legs crossed, indicating how relaxed you were.

"c'mon 'toru, don't be such a stick in the mud," you cooed, watching as the man stood there for a second. it seemed as though he was hesitating, but you could see some notes of pink tint on his pale white face. you couldn’t help but smile at the way he started to chew on the inside of his cheek, the way his body shifted slightly before he decided to speak up. “…i don’t want to be near you,” he mumbled, ripping his arm away from your touch. your heart completely broke in two, those were not the words you wanted to hear from him.

the male walked out of the room, leaving you there with your thoughts and tears. you cried until you passed out on the couch, nose stuffy and eyes puffy. whenever another teacher came into the room, they thought that you were passed out drunk.

after that day, things between you two weren’t the same.

satoru kept his distance, and you tried to get closer. every time he would notice your dark brown locks with those pretty crystals entangled between the hair his heart would ache, but he had to turn away from you. your heart was broken, completely destroyed because of the white-haired male. but, satoru just had never felt this way before.

it wasn’t his fault that he had been having wet dreams about you, the way you grabbed his arm unlocked something in him. he woke up every day with pants soaked in cum, and body completely covered in sweat. he would daydream about you, he would draw about you (even though he wasn’t a good artist). he would manifest your mental image into his mind, every single detail was engraved into his brain like a tattoo. from your beautiful dreads to your plump lips. those pretty e/c eyes and that… beautiful body. those hands, those arms, those veins, that chest… fuck, it drove him insane.

it wasn’t his fault that every time he saw you that his heart would skip three beats a second, that his body would go rigid and that his eyes would widen. it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know how to act when he was around you, that he didn’t know what to do whenever he was in close proximity to you. his mind went flat with thoughts of wanting to hold you, kiss you, love you every time you were near. but, he would never act on them.

at least, he thought he wouldn't. not soon, that is.

on one of the last days of school, the teachers had decided that the kids should go on a trip to tokyo. every jujustu student from every class would be able to go, they just needed permission from their parents. and those without parents needed permission from their homeroom teacher. this was the perfect opportunity for you and gojo to finally get close once again.

you and your homeroom class of rambunctious students were walking together through tokyo streets, past venders and poor homeless people who you kindly gave money/food. the other teachers' classes were in all different parts of tokyo, and this was because they just traveled farther than anyone. you decided to stay close yet let your kids go where they wanted to, though they needed to call you if anything went wrong.

so, you started to walk somewhere, but some luxurious white locks caught your eye so you started to walk towards them. the person became more visible until you were more than positive it was gojo, which made you smile nervously. and... he was finally alone. he was just walking, he didn't know where his kids went. but, he was shocked when he felt a pair of shoulders rub against him, shooting his head around and looking up to see... you.

his heart dropped, his eyes went wide and his palms were sweaty. he didn't know what to do, you were so close... and he was already getting hard. you see, he was just having a dirty thought about you, the reason why he was alone. he had been walking and the three sheep he herded decided to go somewhere without him since he wasn't responsive to their calls towards him. gojo was scared, scared to see you right now. his thoughts, those memories of those dreams and everything were coming back in full throttle, but his feet didn't dare move.

his breathing was erratic, he was wearing his glasses and his beautiful blue eyes you adored so much were visibly shocked. that made your heart and cock throb, but you obviously didn't act on your carnal desire. "what's wrong, satoru?" you inquired, yet the man stayed completely still. his face was red, his mouth was open, he was breathing heavily and his mind was foggy. he couldn't move, nor could he think. he had been depriving himself of you, touching himself to the thought of you. toys were scattered all in his room because of you, he hated how much he loved you.

he didn't respond, he couldn't respond. his world seemed to stop every time he started into those breathtaking e/c eyes you proudly used for your sight every day. when that forest of locs and crystals moved around every time you turned your head it had satoru wanting to see that jungle over his face, your breath on his as you stuffed him full of your meaty cock.

after a good minute he gulped, blinking before looking down at the floor. "i'm fine, m/n," he forced out of his mouth, you knew he was nothing but okay. it was obvious with the way he spoke, the way he reacted whenever he was around you, he was definitely lying. " 'toru, don't give me that. you look so scared whenever you see me, you always walk away whenever you see me, you haven't talked to me in over a month... if that encounter in the teacher's lounge made you uncomfortable, i'm sorry gojo. i never meant any ill intentions behind it, i just..."

you trailed off when you noticed how satoru began to shift in his spot at the mention of the teacher's lounge incident, how his entire energy began to shift at that. he seemed more... carnal, more bashful, more... needy. that he was hiding something from you, something that you desperately needed to hear. needed to see, that is. so, when you stared him up and down you noticed that his jujustu cover-up was covering his pants, near the groin area as well. you were a little confused before your eyes widened, realizing what he was insinuating.

a smirk fell over your face, picking his chin up with your thumb and licking your lips. "does someone have something to tell me, hm?" you let your lips do the talking, the words falling off your tongue like you've said them before. and you have, however this was different. this was satoru gojo you were talking to, number one sorcerer in the jujustu world... but now, number one whore in the bedroom.

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁ ＬＯＡＤＩＮＧ… ▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

bodies were pressed up against each other, mouths moved in sync. arms wrapped around each other, groins connecting in a lustful dance. you don't know how you got here, nor did gojo. however, you were both in a public stall at a restaurant, pinning the sorcerer against the wall as you aggressively made out with him. your mind was cloudy, fogging up with nothing but desire. desire to be inside satoru, make him scream your name in pleasure.

pants were now on the ground, and you had both of your cocks in your large and lengthy hand. gojo rolled his hips into your touch unwillingly, soft whimpers leaving his mouth as he looked up at you. those pretty blue eyes of his were glossed over and filled with lust, god you could've devoured him right then and there. and, you would've.

after a minute or two you slid to your knees, putting his somewhat impressive length into your mouth. your own much bigger length was throbbing against the floor, but just the tip of his was engulfed into the wonderful heat of your wet cavern. you held his base as you stroked him, he was just only a few inches smaller than you were. he wasn't all that easy to take in, though his pretty moans and body jerking from contact was more than what you needed.

he started to try and thrust into your mouth, but a slight nibble on his tip had him stop as soon as he started. "you wanna be good for me, 'toru?" you purred, the male nodding his head while biting his lip. you didn't know he would be this compliant in bed, though you weren't really complaining. you loved obedient subs, and gojo was becoming your favorite one.

you deepthroated his cock a few minutes later, shoving your head up and down to please him better. his eyes rolled back and his legs were shaking, moans leaving him more and more as he threw his head back. "m-m/n! s'close!" he whined, you immediately pulling off his cock and flipping him over. his stomach was now pressing against the wall, his hips arched back towards you which gave you the perfect opportunity to open his pale cheeks.

once you saw his twitching asshole you couldn't think straight, it was like it was inviting you inside. you licked a long strip at first, slow but it did the trick. satoru's knees were buckling against the wall, the poor boy scratching against the tile walls trying to find some grounding. however, you weren't letting up, you were going to see how much more he could take.

that's why your face was shoved deep into his ass, licking and slurping around his hole while your cock weeped onto the less-than-sanitary bathroom floor. you could see how good your boy was feeling, you could most definitely hear him too. you loved his noises, you loved the way he couldn't keep himself down. mind you, you both were in a restaurant bathroom, anyone could walk in and hear you guys. but, you didn't care, and gojo certainly didn't care.

you added a finger inside his puckering hole, watching as his breath went shaky and his mind went completely blank. you were already pressing against his sweet spot with just one finger, his dreams were really coming true. though... he seemed a lot stretcher than you anticipated, which only got your cock twitching harder.

"has someone been playing with themselves?" you asked with a teasing tone, satoru whimpering softly at your remark. a slight nod to the head was all you were getting, though it wasn't all that appreciated. "c'mon 'toru, use your big boy words," you cooed, pulling away from his ass but still keeping that finger inside. it was still moving as well, twisting and turning inside him and hitting his prostate spot on. he moaned, arching his back which turned you on even more.

"y-- yes- yes! 'm been playing with- m-myself," he whined out, his cock twitching oh so desperately. " 'm so close daddy- please-" gojo cried out, and that nickname really stirred you on. you pulled your finger out, he was prepped enough by his own means that you could just slide right in. you stood up, grabbing the male's hips and pulling them towards you. you started to stroke your cock, smearing it with all your pre-cum to lube it up.

you pressed your thick tip against his hole, making the male rut his hips back onto yours. you bit your lip, pushing it inside him and making his back arch with pleasure. he shook his hips more, taking more of you inside him by his own doing. you let him, who were you to stop the strongest sorcerer? but, once all of you was fully sheathed inside his ass the man's legs were trembling, his breath heavy and eyes rolled all the way back. you were confused until you saw a splatter of white against the tile wall where his cock was.

you chuckled, holding his hips as you leaned down. "such a good boy 'toru... cock makes you feel this good yeah?" you sauntered, feeling the male's hole clasp around your cock. those lewd words of yours had gojo whimpering, slowly starting to move his hips up and down your cock. he went up and down, moaning every time he went down. you could tell he was losing his mind, by the way he sounded all the way to how he looked.

you were loving this, but he was going a little too slow for your liking. so, you held his hips before slamming into him, making satoru cry out and press his chest against the wall. you fucked him at such a deliciously fast pace, your cock was bigger than he would've ever imagined. you were pounding his ass so good, literally breaking him more and more. his hole was stretched so deliciously, his back was arched so beautifully, and his glasses were falling off of his face with every thrust.

"m- m/n-! g'na c-cum-" he choked out, which only made you speed up. "yeah? gonna cum 'toru? cream on my cock baby, you can do it," you encouraged him, but it was also in somewhat of a growl. those words had satoru cumming in seconds, eyes rolling back and tongue lolling out. he clenched around you so tightly, it made your hips stutter as you tried to push past the tight barrier. but, you came as well, throwing your head back and hissing because of the pleasure.

"fffuccckkk 'toru... took my cock so well... such a good boy you are yeah? good boys take cock so well..." you praised him, leaning down to press kisses on his neck. he shivered at your touch, then leaned into it. you chuckled, rubbing soft circles into his hips. after a minute you pulled away from him, pulling out of his ass and watching a huge amount of cum splotch from out of his gaping hole. the sight was so hot you almost got hard again, but you held back since you were in a public restroom.

your dear boy's legs were shaking so hard though, trembling as he tried to hold himself up against the wall. you just chuckled, grabbing gojo's hips and pulling him towards you. you picked him up and placed him on the toilet, pressing against the slight bulge he had in his stomach to push all your cum out. he moaned as it all came out of him, cock twitching but not getting hard. he was so adorable to you, sparkling blue eyes looking the other way from your e/c eyes, body trembling and face oh so pink. you couldn't stop staring at him, he was so beautiful.

after he was done you cleaned up his backside, grabbing paper towels with soap and washing him up down there. his cock and his ass, plus the wall where his cum was smeared. he just smiled sleepily, and it seemed like it was nighttime right now. you pulled up his pants and yours, holding him up as he started to tremble once more. you then decided to pick him up entirely, walking out of the restroom with him in hand.

little did you know, the three disciples plus some teachers PLUS your class were inside the restaurant, listening into everything. you both weren't all that quiet, and they heard everything. when you both saw them gojo leaped out of your arms, tried to stand for himself, then fell to the floor. you picked him up and held him once more, this time the sorcerer complied and didn't move. he pressed his embarrassed face against your neck, your dark face didn't show any blush but it was most definitely there.

"so, you two have fun in there?" mei mei asked, basically teasing you. "shut up." you spoke somewhat harsh yet somewhat bashful, walking out of the restaurant and to their bus that they had to bring the kids here.

let's say, after that day you and gojo were even closer than before.

© gg 2023. dividers were made by me. do not steal, use, or repost my work without my consent. reblogging/interaction is welcomed.

#jjk x reader #gojo saturo #gojo x reader #male smut #gojo brainrot #male reader #top male reader #raaaaaa

[bunnyreaper]

wc - 4.6k

warnings - 18+/nsfw (eventually), age gap (older male younger female), bodyguard!au, threat of violence.

notes - another visit to dilfville, a new series, because that's all we need, right? lol. hope you enjoy ♥

Friday nights meant one thing: unwinding after a long week of working in your home office, braving the outside world, and heading to the comfy flat belonging to your friend Jules.

While visiting her place was always a blast, Friday nights were for DnD. Leaving behind Earth for its fantasy counterpart and getting lost in the adventures of your group's merry band of do-gooders. 

Saturdays are usually spent drinking coffee, frequenting markets, and then rounding the night off with cocktails and dancing. (And Sunday's recuperating from being up on your feet all night, spending the day in bed reading whatever trashy romance novel is next on your reading list.) 

Your weekends are your sanctuary—your freedom from routine and work is your refuge. 

You dance around your bedroom, rocking your hips to the music as you pull on your clothes—a white blouse and black bustier to channel the vibes of your character Elora. 

When the doorbell rings, it's entirely unexpected. Anyone close to you knows you're just a few minutes away from heading out for the night—maybe it's a neighbour, you suppose to yourself as you head to the door. 

On the other side of your flat's door is an incredibly handsome man. Broad framed, ruggedly good-looking yet with a finely pressed white shirt and dress trousers. His features are striking, strong eyes and a brow slashed with a scar, stubble all over, and a neatly trimmed mohawk that strangely suits him. All in all, a sight for fucking sore eyes, standing so confidently and casually in your doorway like he belongs.

You hate how your eyes linger on his form far longer than they probably should, but the handsome stranger is just so enthralling.

"Hello?" You mumble, a little absent-mindedly, as you try to gather thoughts that aren't just lewd and dirty.

His stormy blue eyes meet yours, his cheek tugs into a half-smile that definitely doesn't meet his eyes, the faintest dimple appearing on his left cheek. "John MacTavish, ye maw sent me." 

"Oh, the bodyguard." You reply dumbly. Fuck. If you were opposed to the idea before, you certainly were now... or maybe you're not.

On one hand, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you—on the other, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you, while you act normal about the entire thing. 

You realise that you're acting completely the fool, so you snap out of your thoughts and step aside to allow the older man inside. "She didn't tell me to expect you... probably thought I'd run. Uh, come in." 

"Thanks." He nods as he steps through the threshold, ducking slightly as he does. 

Once inside, his eyes scan over the open-plan space of your living area, seemingly taking in every little detail. 

You watch him, sensing that his training and experience make him focus on the minute particulars of a room that others would completely skip over. 

Your mother had already clued you into the fact there might need to be security enhancements to the flat itself, and you assume those requests came at the behest of the man himself. He seems to be lost in evaluating what these might be. 

"So, what can I do for you?" You ask, filling the air with some sort of conversation starter. You have no idea what you're doing in this situation on the whole, but especially not when it comes to hiring, negotiating with, and retaining a bodyguard.

"It's what I can do fer you." He turns, taking you in now, and you start to feel self-conscious about having too many buttons undone, too much chest on show. 

Something tells you that MacTavish's gaze would make you squirm regardless—his eyes carrying a heaviness to them that seem like a fantastic attribute in a protector. Surely anyone who would even think about coming close to cause you harm would reconsider under his harsh look.

You start to wrack your brains for what he can actually do for you. Again, you have no familiarity in having personal protection, beyond what you've seen your mother undergo. Your work is fairly stable, you keep the same routine, and the biggest threat you ever seem to face is the creeps in the club. 

Well, apart from the online threats, but something about the anonymous, cowardly messages doesn't frighten you. 

"If I'm being honest,I don't exactly want a bodyguard. I don't see much of a point?" You admit, voice a little quiet. After all, you don't mean to upset or offend the man, but you're not sure he isn't just wasting his time with this job.

He squints, considering for a moment before he answers. "Yer maw sees things differently." 

She does, and that's probably the only reason you agreed to go through with this in the first place. You don't want to worry her, especially since her own security has had to be tightened due to said threats. 

"Yeah, she's really worried." 

John's brows furrow, a small frown appearing on his lips. "Aye, rightly so, considering everything." 

He seems serious and said severity gives you pause for thought. His job is to assess and protect against threats, so surely he wouldn't be here, acting the way he is were there not a valid reason for concern. The thought makes a lump form in your throat, makes your stomach twist in a way you'd rather not acknowledge. 

You try to cope with it the best way you know how—humour. 

"Eh, online threats are nothing new for a girl my age, you know? And it's not like I'm anyone important." You shrug it off, hoping that if you say the words aloud, they'll just come true. As you speak, your phone chimes with a notification from your group chat, reminding you of your upcoming plans—and the fact you're going to have to abandon this little meeting. "Uh, I'd offer you a cuppa, but I'm leaving soon." 

"Don't drink it anyway, but thanks." The man smiles slightly, before turning away once more and scanning the room. He cranes his neck to get a look down the hallway, leading to your bedroom and bathroom. "There's a difference between lads online, an' the kinda people that make up extremist groups like those targeting your maw and her party." 

"Really?" You laugh, a short, sharp sound that betrays your discomfort. You grab your jacket and keys by the door, desperate for something to fiddle with. "Thought they were all just sad loners, desperately searching for something to make them feel better." 

"Except some of them have connections, dangerous connections." 

There are a million and one reasons you don't want to go through with this, and very few urging you to. Though, removing a major worry from your mother's life is a big one—John MacTavish's gorgeous blues are another. The possible invasion of privacy lingers in your head, the worry that your father might be using this as an opportunity to have the inside track on your life, on all the things you don't tell your parents. Your mind also revolts at the idea of unnecessary restrictions to your plans, your friends being held under a magnifying glass. 

The thought of the threats being real is the only thing more startling. You sigh, resigning yourself to your fate. "If this is what will help her feel better, then I guess I better find a way to make this work." 

He nods firmly, joining you at where you hover nervously at the door. "I'd agree." 

"Unfortunately, you arrived at the worst possible time, because like I said, I'm just headed out. Can't miss the tube." You force a tight-lipped smile, making your excuse to leave—the thought of being late makes you jittery, the thought of being late continuing this difficult conversation makes you feel worse. 

"Where ye going?" He asks, head tilted. 

You know it's the first question of many. Where are you going? Who are you going with? The atmosphere already feels a little stifling, the relationship a little strained. You and John aren't friends, never will be friends. He's here to do a job, watch over you, and take your security very, very seriously. 

"This is how it's always going to be?" You ask, the question coming out a little snappier than you intend it to. 

John takes it in stride, unblinking in the face of your shortness, and yet unrelenting in his need for information. "Aye." 

Once more, you sigh. "Right... I'm going to my weekly DnD game at my friend's house, and please, I really don't wanna cancel." You plead, feeling like a child reasoning with their parents rather than two adults on equal footing. You hate the feeling, even if you know his intentions are pure. 

"How many friends?" He asks. 

"4." You answer instantly. 

"How long have ye known them?" His questioning continues, and his focus on the people you trust naturally drives you up the wall, even if again, you know it's just his job.

Your grasp on your keys tightens, your agitation growing. "I'll tell you whatever I can some other time, but please, I hate being late." You gesture to the door, indicating that it's time for him and you to leave. 

John grabs the door, opening it for you and allowing you to step through before he does. As you turn to lock the door, you expect him to arrange another time and to bid you farewell, but he doesn't. "I'll drive ye. Dinnae bother arguing, lass." 

His words have a finality to them that quiets you anyway, but the use of 'lass' renders you all but speechless. 

"Okay..." You mumble, leading the way down the stairs as his hand comes to ghost along your lower back.

MacTavish’s vehicle is parked out in the street, and as you approach the car, you can feel his eyes searching again. He beats you to the car, a sleek black Range Rover, opening the door for you before climbing inside himself.  

The action would be nice under any other circumstance, and such propriety is something you're probably going to have to get used to, but right now it just reinforces the annoying, infantilising feeling that you're currently suffering through. 

As you give your friend's address to John, he takes off without another word, flicking on the car stereo before he goes. The atmosphere is thick, stifling, and you can only hope that in time the feeling will lessen, especially if your mother makes him a permanent feature. 

On the way over, he picks up his questioning where he left off. "So, how long have you known this group?"

"A good few years, since uni." 

"We can go over names and details when you're ready." 

You take a deep breath, holding it in and then forcing yourself to calm a little. Instead, you try to focus on watching John, the diligent way he drives. "I'm assuming you have a long list of things we'll need to go over."

His eyes don't stray from you. "Aye, that we do." 

The two of you fall into tense silence for the rest of the drive, nothing but the music and the sound of the car to keep you company. In the quiet street your friend lives on, John pulls in to park on the opposite side of the road, killing the engine and the radio, making the silence almost deafening.

Your nerves are getting the better of you again, and yet John seems so comfortable, unperturbed by the awkwardness. You're unsure what comes next, what to say. 

"Not to be rude but, I'd prefer if you didn't come in." You utter, saying the first thing that springs to mind, despite it probably not being the best thing either. You flash the man an apologetic smile before you continue. "I don't know how to deal with all this, especially when we haven't agreed on how all this is gonna work?" 

You hope your earnest admission makes up for your temporary ill-manners. 

"Tha's fine, I'll stay here." He looks completely impassive. "Not ideal, but it'll do." 

He doesn't look bothered by the inconvenience, and you suppose you should assuage him of the idea it's going to be a quick visit.

"Really? I'll be gone for a few hours." 

His brow quirks. "Yer maw paid upfront, so as far as am concerned, my job's already started." Once more, his statement is absolute, and you don't bother trying to argue.

"Right then." 

John is out of the car first, headed straight to your side of the door, checking left and right before he opens to let you out. 

The action makes you both laugh and curse, perplexed by the deed as you climb out. "You're not my driver, you know you don't need to open the door for me?" 

He laughs too, derisive and short as he closes the door a little too sharply. "Not tae be rude, but I believe the words you're looking for are 'thank you'."  

"Gonna walk me to the door?" You ask, trying to shed yourself of your nerves and make the situation lighter. 

You can't stay tense and subdued for the entire duration of this relationship—besides, now you're moments away from reuniting with the others in Albion Vale and forgetting all about this mess for a few hours. That alone is enough to raise your spirits. 

John forces a cheeky, tight-lipped smile, the crow's feet at his eyes crinkling almost condescendingly. "Not feeling tha' gentlemanly anymore. I'm sure ye'll be fine." 

"I'm sure." You make your way halfway across the road, before coming to a realisation, stopping and turning. "Oh, what's your number, you know, make this whole thing easier?"  

John darts out, his arm falling just beside you as he ushers you across the road and onto the other side.

"Pass yer phone." He says, holding out a large, rough hand expectantly. 

"Right, yeah." You nod, probably more than is necessary, as you pass your phone over to the man. 

John takes the phone more softly than you expect, typing in his name and number before holding it back out for you to take. "I'll be here when yer done, to take ye home." 

"Uh, thank you." You take the phone, before walking away sheepishly heading into your friend's block of flats and toward her apartment. 

With each step you take, you try to push John and the threats and everything to do with the outside world far, far out of your brain. 

The night passes by in a flurry of laughter and fun, lost in the adventures of Albion Vale and the antics of your party. 

The session wraps up, and while you would usually be in no rush to head back—you know you can't sit around and leave John, however much a stranger he is, sitting in the car outside. 

You text him to let him know you're headed down in five, and when you make it to the street less than 3 minutes later, he is there, leaning against the car door waiting for you. 

"Thank you." You whisper, climbing inside. When John joins you in the car, he scrubs at his eyes before putting the key in the ignition. "Have you not been bored out of your mind?" 

"Nothing I'm not used to." He replies instantly, pulling away before you can ask any further. 

"What did you do before this?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. 

From your understanding, most bodyguards cut their teeth in the police or the armed forces, and have tonnes of experience under their belt.

John oozes an ex-forces demeanour–his perfect posture, constant alertness, and the scars littering his skin. 

It'd be hard not to notice, but becomes immediately obvious with the way your eyes seem to love settling upon him when they can. You have to force yourself to squash down the drunken, misguided lust that flares within you as you watch his large hands on the steering wheel and notice his veiny, hairy, and muscular forearms. 

"Army, Captain." He answers, pulling your attention back to him in a more professional manner properly. 

Something within the way he speaks makes you think there's more to the story—though you suppose with that kind of background, he has a cache of secrets and tales that he can never really share.

"Oh." You nod, feeling a little soothed. If you have to be protected, you suppose someone with his level of experience is the best man for the job. "I'm in good hands then." 

Once more, he flashes a forced half-smile. "Aye."

A moment passes, and you find more questions bubbling to the front of your brain. Naturally, you're curious about this man who is undoubtedly going to become a big part of your life from now on, but the fact that his nature is a little reserved makes your curiosity multiply. You've long been a sucker for closed-off older men—call it a character flaw. 

"Why did you leave the army? If you don't mind me asking."

There's a beat of silence where you think he might not answer, but eventually, he does, eyes still fixed on the road. 

"Medical reasons. Nothing that affects my ability to do this job." He rushes to add, a slight spark of defensiveness flashing through as his jaw visibly tightens.

You're no expert detective, and you haven't seen your protector in action, but your first guess is that whatever ailment made him leave isn't entirely physical. The fact he's been somewhat open about it puts your mind at ease, the fact that your mother has clearly vetted him even more so. 

You offer an empathetic smile that he likely doesn't see. "I don't doubt it." 

The drive home passes quicker and easier with a bit of mead in your veins, allowing you to loosen up enough to hum along to the music playing from John's speakers. The little buzz passing through you alleviates that sense of trepidation you felt earlier, luring you into a false sense of security. 

When the car pulls up and John lets you out, you know just what to say what needs to come next. "Well, I guess you should come in so we can formalise things." 

"I'd appreciate it." He nods, before turning back to the car to grab a bag and follow you into the building.

 *

You and John sit at your kitchen island, tea in your hand and coffee in John's—a neat, stapled stack of papers sits before you.

"Here's the contract I signed with ye maw, but she's given us some wiggle room." John says, tapping the top of the paper where the bold letters of CLOSE PROTECTION AGREEMENT — 141 SECURITY sit. 

"Nice of her to allow me a say, if I'm honest." You laugh dryly—you love your mother dearly, but you'd be lying if you said she wasn't overbearing. Your initial protests about this whole arrangement had been entirely shut down, and clearly, she didn't trust you to follow through considering she sprung John on you tonight, unannounced.

"I'm sure she just wants what's best for ye." John offers as you flick through the pages.

The contract outlines the agreement between the Guard and The Principal—with stipulations on activities, compensation, and conduct. 

It's weird seeing it all laid out on paper, seeing the hefty cost of John's services, and the fact you'll be giving this man free access to your home and life. All of this to keep you safe from some nebulous threats that have not even been acted upon.

"She does, but this is inconvenient, and frustrating to say the least." You purposefully choose not to include the words 'fucking annoying' and 'torturing me with a hot man I can't have', though your next conversation with your therapist will absolutely include such descriptions and more. 

"I can understand tha'." He nods understandingly, before raising his coffee and taking a sip—his gaze unwavering as he does. "You've never had close protection before?" 

You shake your head. "No, this is all new to me." 

"Okay. We'll start by discussing exactly what kind of protection you're looking for. Part of tha' will be dictated by what yer maw laid out, like I said, we can decide specifics." 

"Sounds like a plan." You lean back in your stool, tea in hand as you contemplate. Admittedly, you should have done some research before this, but in your defence, you did think you had more time. You're not entirely sure what boundaries you can set—but you hope that John can lead the process a little. "I don't think I can do something 24/7, and it's not like you can stay here, I guess."

You cringe internally thinking about how fucking awkward that would be—your tipsy brain supplies the image of the world's most uncomfortable sleepover. 

In your imagination, John looks grumpy and uncomfortable, still tucked up in bed in that stiff shirt with his boots still on. You are, of course, in little fluffy bunny pyjamas staring at him all gooey-eyed whilst he tries to pretend everything is normal. It takes conscious effort for you not to giggle at the mental image.

"I understand. I'd suggest I escort you anywhere outside these four walls, day or night, work and social events. Conduct security checks on your flat, vet close contacts, update your digital security, things like tha'." John supplies a rundown of potential actions like it's a grocery list, yet a very severe grocery list. His collected nature does put you more at ease.

"Sounds a tad invasive." 

"I'll try to make it as little as possible." 

"Thanks, I appreciate it." You smile slightly, truly thankful for his consideration and tact.

You give John a once over, thoughts once again ticking over. "If you're going to be with me everywhere, you can't walk around like that, outside of my work, that is. No offense, it's just, all my friends are gonna think I'm a self-important twat if I start showing up everywhere with some posh bodyguard." You stop abruptly, realising how much you're bloody rambling.

"Am far from posh. But, more casual look then, aye?" 

You smile a little nervously, hoping you haven't completely offended the man. "Please." 

This whole situation is beyond difficult to navigate—untreaded paths, forging new relationships, balancing existing ones. Your friends really are going to think this whole situation is beyond bizarre. They already find amusement in seeing your mother on the news. Having a bodyguard is going to leave you subject to endless teasing, relentless mocking, and attempts to make your and John's life a whole lot harder.

Your head falls into your hands as you rub at the sockets of your eyes, undoubtedly smearing your makeup and making a mess of your face. It'll get easier, you reassure yourself.

With your eyes closed and pressed into the heel of your hands, you don't see the way John's expression softens or the way he moves closer to comfort you before hesitating and stopping short. "Wha's the matter?" 

"I'm just... incredibly anxious about how this is going to play out with my friends, with work." 

John leaps into problem-solving mode, immediately pulling from his brain some words to soothe you, as well as making note of what bumps in the road to smooth out. "Ye mother said she already consulted yer work, and they're fine to make accommodations." 

Of course, she'd already talked to David about the whole thing. "So it'll be fine aside from all the gossip it will cause." 

"It's politics and I ken yer not naïve, everybody's talking anyway, no?" He offers, and yet you don't seem assuaged, so he tries a different tactic. "It's my job to blend in. They'll barely notice me." 

"With that haircut? Sorry." You giggle—surprisingly you find the mohawk suits his rugged look, but it certainly isn't something you've seen on a man that wasn't walking the streets of Camden. Though, even with a more fitting haircut, the man is so casually striking and ever so slightly imposing that he just naturally draws attention. "In general, you don't strike me as a man who does blending in well, not in civilian life anyway."

His eyes narrow for a moment, before he struggles to fight off a smirk. "Hmm, ye might have a point. Not changing ma hair though, sorry. Nae sure ye family has enough money for tha' one."  

His more playful side makes your heart soar, and gives you hope that everything might just be alright.

"I have a crazy idea." Okay, maybe you're more tipsy than you thought you were, as your brain supplies an outlandish plot and your mouth runs away with it. 

His eyebrow arches and his eyes sparkle with intrigue. John MacTavish seems like a man who likes crazy ideas. "Go oan." 

"I'll tell my friends that you're my boyfriend, and we're just so madly in love that you have to come everywhere with me. Means no real questions." 

Your proposition is met with deafening silence, despite the huge, encouraging grin on your face.

John laughs, just the once, before his expression hardens. "Not a chance, lass."

"Why? You don't have to really do anything. Besides, it'll save you sitting outside in the car, or staring from the shadows and making everyone feel uncomfortable." 

You realise now that while you noticed a distinct lack of a ring, there's the possibility that John is still attached, and what you're suggesting is wildly inappropriate—but it's not that point he argues on.

"Aye, so I just have to spend ma time socialising instead." He scoffs.

"Well, surely you're not brooding and mysterious all the time." You wager.

Once more, he finds a smirk tugging at his lips that he can't hold back. "No' at all, but it's been a long time since I was the life of the party, and something tells me that me an' your DnD friends don't have a lot in common." 

"They might surprise you, but you also might surprise yourself. Maybe you're a secret nerd." You wink, still being jovial before you shift back to your genuine pleas. "It'll make my life a whole lot easier and be one less thing for me to stress about. My friends wouldn't second guess the story much once they got past the shock of me bagging someone older, wiser, and oh-so-handsome. Please."  

You flash your softest, sweetest doe eyes and lay the compliments on extra thick in the hopes of swaying him. In the political world, you're used to using charm to try and get what you want, and know that without charisma you'd get nowhere. Perhaps it's a bit low of you to stoop to using flirtation on someone who could likely run rings around you when it comes to negotiation, but it's worked before, and at this point, you're desperate.

John straightens up in his seat, eyes you for a moment, and then lets out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine." 

The fact he relents honestly takes you a little by surprise. You're relieved, but yes, surprised. "Huh?"

"Fine, I'll be whoever ye want me to be..." The look in his eyes shifts to something imperceptible, as he leans over the counter closer to you. "As long ye listen to what I say when it comes to yer safety and security. Deal?" 

He holds out his hand, and your own feels dwarfed when you reach out to take his calloused palm.

"You drive a hard bargain, John MacTavish. Deal." You shake, and neither of you makes a move to immediately let go.

"Aye, a know." He winks, and the action makes your heart skip a beat, your cheeks flood with heat.

Each second passes slowly, his touch feeling like too much and not enough all at once. You know at that moment that life from now on is going to be especially difficult as long as John is around.

What he says next is the final nail in that particular coffin. "Would've done it anyway, but glad I got ye to agree to ma terms, lass." 

#soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #bunny writes #run to you

[moondirti]

all the ways i can have you

pairing: Din Djarin x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ mdni) word count: 1.3k summary: he's hooked on making you feel good. warnings: naked female clothed male, edging, overstimulation, fingering, pussy slapping, squirting, unprotected p-in-v, blowjobs, hickeys, biting, cunnilingus, rimming, face sitting, this is so filthy don't look at me. notes: here's a little thirst i wrote in my down time. It's not affiliated with The Remedy in any way; i just really needed to get all my thoughts about our favourite beskar man out tbh because the slow burn with those two is killing me

The Mandalorian is absolutely filthy.

It’s not something you expect. He’s awkward at the best of times – pointedly avoiding any possibility of social interaction by the drawing of his blaster or an elongated silence. Honestly, for the first few months that you’d known him, you actually thought he hated you. Sure, you were never the unfortunate soul skewered onto his spear, nor had he ever threatened to throw you into his carbonite freezer, but he always had a handy excuse at the ready when you tried to make conversation. It was torture until you learnt not to take it personally; you figured he was probably used to being alone, and that’s no fault of yours. His lack of social skills could not be your burden to bear. So, eventually, when he gave nothing but a grunt to your occasional bizarre musing, you’d simply shrug it off and go back to playing with the kid. 

In hindsight, maybe you should have picked at the source of his reticence. It certainly wouldn’t have taken you as long to get to this point if you had. Because now, it occurs to you that he’d probably been so tense from withholding the desires that the two of you, in fact, shared.

It seems so obvious once the dam had lifted, but keen deduction has never been your strong suit. 

Back to the point, though. Mando is beyond borderline obscene once you manage to tease it out of him. Truly, he’d have never instigated things had you not been so uninhibited. But when his resolve shatters, it’s like his mind goes into overdrive of all the things he’d do to you. You actually think that, if given the opportunity, he’d lay you out for days on end to enact every fantasy he has. Because life has its way of intruding, though, he settles for the in-betweens of your day to day, taking you in the small gaps where it can just be the two of you.

You think he’s wild when he edges you the first time, his gloved hand palming your front while you stand in nothing but your towel. This is on you, he said, you little tease. It’s deliciously painful; his fingers find your clit with practised ease and he presses down on it, rubbing you in small, tight circles. With the way his hardened body presses into you from behind, clad fully in his armour – a stark contrast to your exposed frame – and his rough praise meets your ear, you almost cum from the miniature ministration alone. But he recognises what your quickening pants mean; he sees how your back arches into him like you’re trying to match the overwhelming pleasure his hands administer, and he pulls away at the last second, fingers returning only to give a sharp smack to your cunt. And of course it echoes – you’re soaked, for Maker’s sake – which only serves to make him repeat the action again and again until you’ve significantly darkened in shade. 

By the time you’re on the brink of collapse, Mando has you sitting between his legs, back to his chest, one leg hooked over a strong arm while you sob your pleas into the empty space of the hull. He fingers you fast and rough, delighting in your high-pitched wails and whiney begs, and forces your first orgasm out of you with an expert quirk of his fingers. It’s torturous relief, like white hot embers dancing upon frozen skin, and your vision blurs as you gush over his vambrace. But he doesn’t let up; he continues drawing them from your sopping core, turning in a complete 180 to overstimulate you until you literally have nothing else to give. 

He manages to serve you in a way no one ever has before – you're a complete, quivering mess by the end – so, you assume that’s the extent of it. But time with Mando proved that was the least he can come up with.

He revels in spreading your legs whenever he gets the chance, taking his time to pull your glistening lips apart and absorb the sight of your clenching hole. He says it amazes him – how such a tight thing is able to stretch over his length – then promptly digs his cock from within the confines of his pants. You find yourself agreeing with the wonder of how it fits; it’s by far the biggest you’ve taken – thick with throbbing veins that weave up to an angry, leaking tip – but his thumbs always dance in reassuring circles along your inner thighs when he presses it against you. And when he pushes in, you forget all about your worries, because the stretch is divine. Mando absolutely fills you up to the brink, the ridges of him catching along your inner walls, and he pounds into you with reckless abandon, like a man starved. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough as he reaches those hidden parts of you – that spongy tissue at the front, the wall of your cervix – and the sensation becomes absolutely addictive. You go cock-dumb without fail, drooling, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and you think he might disappear someplace else as well, with the way his words pour unfiltered. Good girl. Beautiful. So fucking tight. Cum for me, I want to feel you. He turns reverent when he gets you this way, awkward fronts be damned. 

Funnily enough, he’s too impatient for you to go down on him. In the rare moments he forfeits, he has to hold himself back from pulling you up so he can just fuck you already. It’s not that you aren’t good at it, either – no, your tongue is enough to drive the strongest of men wild – but he just… doesn’t put as much priority in his pleasure as yours. It’s something different with you entirely. He doesn’t see sex as a means to relieve his mounting tensions, it’s not the same exchange he’s found in all those brothels. With you, Mando is overcome with the unshakeable urge to wring out every pleasure imaginable. He’s obsessed with the plump of your lips and the folds of your flesh. He dreams of every single part of you everywhere – under his hands, between his legs, in his mouth. 

So, he takes off his helmet to put his lips on yours. And you, who’s naive enough to again suppose that the last, world-ending orgasm was the scope of what he could do, experience it as he transforms into something else entirely. 

His kisses leave no area untouched. They find your neck, tightening as he sucks purple hickeys onto your skin, then pepper down to your chest, where he pecks your pebbled nipples and bites the swollen tissue underneath. Mando leaves a trail of spit and welts in his venture, and you moan under the calamity, combing through his soft curls with shaky fingers. And when he finds you soaked through your panties, your nails dig into his scalp, your tummy flushing with slight embarrassment. The pain sparks something in him, it seems, because he pushes your thighs up with a renewed vigour so he can press his nose onto your clothed cunt. My favourite, he groans between long inhales, before he rips off the cotton barrier that separates his tongue from your clit.

Mando eats you out like he’d rather be doing nothing else. He doesn’t. It’s his favourite pastime, solely for the way you mewl and squirm underneath him. He licks, sucks, drinks from you, uncovering every patch of skin with his warm tongue, which flicks over your bud until you cry and drives into you to collect the subsequent nectar. He spreads you on the floor like a meal, dominating in every way. He kneels before you on a chair, open as you rub his stubble into you. He even insists that you sit on his face: ‘I need to taste you more than I do air.’ You have no reason to doubt it, though. He fucks into his fist when you grind down on his chin, his free hand directing you forward until he can lap at your asshole as well. Mando wants you surging, spilling onto him; crying out his name, his real name, which he whispers to you as you come down from his onslaught.

Din, he beams. To you, mesh’la, it’s Din.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #pedro pascal #x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #star wars #thirst #x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfic #mando x female reader #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #mando x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x x f!reader #fanfiction #smut

[dumbkiri]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 『4.5』

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ, ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ: ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴇʏᴇꜱ

WARNING FROM LAST PART

[Name] is declared dead and all the students can think about was the audacity they had for not being with help. Gojo Satoru now hates mochi.

Alright this is the last part to chapter four. This part is literally 13 pages long. Oh my days, I went crazy with this one. Please ignore the mistakes. I don't have a beta reader!!

“Are you cryin’?” 

Utahime looked up from the piece of rubble that was weighing heavily on her. “I’m not!” She shouted at the white haired male with an angry face. 

Satoru smiled at her and looked back at Suguru whose cursed spirit engulfed a smaller one in its mouth. “Alright, the girls are saved! Can we please go now?” 

Mei Mei sat on a giant piece of the destroyed house and asked, “You guys seem to be in a big rush. Mind telling me who's got you like this?” Though she was not staring at them, her question was directed at both the males who seemed to rush their techniques. 

Satoru waved his hand and said casually, “Eh, nothing you gotta worry about.” 

“Satoru is feeling antsy about [Name]’s solo mission to exercise a special grade.” Suguru tattled and he watched as his best friend gave him a silent death glare. Ah, Suguru couldn’t get enough of teasing Satoru’s little crush on their new friend. 

“Oh, she’s moving up to a special grade already? Her blessed technique is quite fascinating.” Mei Mei offhandedly complimented, one leg going over the other. 

“She’s just that great” Satoru praised with his hands on his hips, “She could do almost anything. We’re the perfect duo, me being untouchable and her getting rid of the curses perfectly.” 

Suguru hummed and said, “We can’t go to her yet until we tell Masamichi that we finished helping Mei Mei and Utahime out.” To which his white haired friend pulled out his phone and dialed their teacher’s number. 

“This is Satoru Gojo, we finished the mission! We are now going over to Earth-worm’s location! Uh-huh! Yup! Understood!” 

Suguru watched with a smile on his face and a chuckle left his lips when he looked over at the girls saying, “Satoru really doesn’t understand his feelings for [Name], I’d say.” 

Shoko was currently being devoured in Utahime’s arms and said, “Because of his giant ego. Satoru will never understand what a crush is until she confesses first.” 

Utahime had let go of Shoko and put a hand under her chin, “Wait, you guys really think [Name] likes Gojo? There’s no way a pure hearted girl like her would fall for that guy!” Everyone looked at her pointed finger to see Satoru still talking on the phone. 

“He might not see it until she’s in danger,” Mei Mei said with that relaxed smile on her face, “Gojo is just that kind of man. It needs to smack him in the face. He hasn’t experienced the loss of a friend yet, so he doesn’t see the importance of friendship or a crush.” 

“You might be right,” Shoko hummed and took the lollipop out of her mouth, “But [Name] is good at what she does. She may lack confidence, but she’s very strong. She can heal herself, teleport, summon weapons, bubble objects and people up, actually attack and defend. She’s an all-around jujutsu sorcerer. I can understand why the Zen’in’s are proposing a marriage deal with her.”

Suguru looked at Shoko and was taken back by her information. “Wait, [Name] accepted the marriage proposal? Who is she getting married to?” 

Utahime sweat dropped and stretched her muscles out with a nervous smile, “I take that back. I rather see little [Name] with Gojo than a Zen’in. A flower like her can’t grow in their disgusting soil. She’s not going to last!” 

Shoko shook her head and patted Utahime’s head saying, “Ah, don’t worry. [Name] rejected the offer saying she isn’t old enough to be married yet. She has plenty of years to discuss marriage deals with the Elders when she’s older.” Shoko all said this as if she was confident that everything was fine. 

But something didn’t sit right with Suguru. 

“Alright, well I am getting hungry. Are you up for something sweet?” Mei Mei opened her eyes and looked at Satoru standing next to her with a grin on his face. He was always down for a little treat.

“Of course! I just finished telling Masamichi how easy this curse was handled! I’m craving some mochi now, I’ll make sure to get some extra for my earth-worm!” Satoru began striding over to the car while Suguru felt that pit in his stomach drop further. 

“Actually I think we should head over to [Name]’s location.” He suggested firmly which made the group stand still looking at him with concern. 

“Hmm, is everything okay, Suguru? You’re the first one to believe in [Name]’s strength,” Shoko tilted her head and swished the small lollipop in her mouth. 

Suguru stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked towards them. Before he could get his answer out, Utahime’s stomach growled loudly and she bashfully shouted, “That was nothing! You all heard nothing!” 

Everyone laughed and Suguru smiled with his eyes closed, his shoulders shrugging, “You’re right. Let’s get a bite before Utahime dies of starvation.” 

“I’m not that hungry!”

Satoru watched his best friend closely and was going to question him about his urgency earlier, but it was washed away when everyone was deciding on a place to eat at. The car Satoru, Suguru and Shoko followed after Utahime’s and Mei Mei’s leading them to a cafe that was still relatively close to [Name]’s mission location. 

They all chatted with each other and ate delicious food with laughter filled in the air. Shoko and Utahime were rambling about their interests while Mei Mei listened to them quietly, her relaxed smile still present. While Suguru and Satoru were chatting about the large amount of mochi Satoru ordered. 

“She’s not going to finish all of that mochi, Satoru.” Suguru snickered. 

“What? Of course not! I’m going to share it with her while we look at the stars together. She might be super tired after the mission, but mochi always gets her up!” Satoru shot back and began packing the mochi into a paper bag. 

Suguru’s phone began to ring and he pulled it out to see Masamichi’s contact. He flipped the phone and answered it with a smile present on his face. “This is Suguru Geto.”

His eyes shot open and he abruptly stood from his seat, pushing the table a bit. The girls grabbed their drinks and one shouted at him. 

“Hey, Geto! Watch where-” Utahime immediately shut her mouth seeing the look on Suguru’s face. His eyes were wide with shock and his free hand was clenched into a tight fist. 

“Are you sure?” He asked over the phone and looked down at Satoru with a hidden pain. Suguru took a deep breath in and he fell back into his chair with a solemn expression. “Yes, I understand. We’ll be there soon.” 

The call ended and Suguru let his face rest into his hands. Then he straightened out his back and looked at the girls purposefully ignoring the piercing blue eyes next to him. “Masamichi needs us to investigate the death of a student.”

“A student? Well who is it?” Shoko asked, the fear seeping into her racing heart. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. They were going to see her after this quick meal. They were going to help her out. 

“Don’t you dare say her name.” Satoru threatened Suguru. His voice was harsh and deep. His bright blue eyes glaring daggers at Suguru. 

The black haired male blinked and informed the group, dismissing the hollow warning from Satoru, “[Name] completed her mission only for her to die outside the veil. Her assigned assistant is missing and she was…” Suguru closed his eyes tightly and breathed out, “She was stabbed seven times, she bled out two hours ago. A local citizen found her body as he was jogging up the mountain. He called local authorities, but now everything is being covered by the school and council.” 

Everyone was silent upon hearing the devastating news. 

The wonderful taste in Satoru’s mouth from the mochi soured. His eyes glared at the table and he slipped his glasses off the bridge of his nose. He stood up from the table and looked at Shoko and Suguru telling them, “Let’s go. We wasted enough time here.” 

Shoko stood up hurriedly and Suguru followed after him with a look of regret. Damn, if only he described that pit in his stomach. If only Suguru went after that dreaded feeling. [Name] was dead now, she had been for two hours. They could have found her. They could have helped her. 

……

The drive up the mountain was long and silent. No one spoke a word to one another. The three of them were blaming themselves for their lack of urgency, strength and awareness. 

The car stopped and bright lights lit up the crime scene. Satoru was the first one out of the car and his shades were back on his face hiding his anger and sadness. “I know this could be difficult, but Masamichi wants you to examine her body. He doesn’t trust the men sent over here.” Suguru spoke softly to the short haired girl and she nodded. 

She got out of the car and closed the door behind her with trembling hands. Shoko watched Satoru walk past men with his head held high, his only goal to reach the girl that he promised he would help. She woke herself from the dip of reality and began to follow his footsteps. 

Her brown eyes widened a bit seeing that [Name] was still laying in her spot of death. Her wounded back was facing her and one arm was outstretched like a call for help. [Name]’s uniform was scuffed and soaked in her blood. 

Shoko was standing above [Name]’s body with relaxed breathing. She had to keep her cool and do her job. It was obvious Masamichi knew something was different today. There was a reason why Shoko was asked to look after her body.

She pulled out a pair of gloves from her pocket and put them on. Her hands were no longer shaking and she pulled [Name] forward to look at her back. She was stabbed five times here. Then she pushed her body back lightly. The dead girl laying on her back and her face looking up at the stars. 

Shoko took note of her bloodied nose, but she didn’t see any visible harm done towards it. Her nose looked perfectly fine. Then her hands moved down toward her abdomen where she was stabbed two times. “I’m so sorry, [Name],” Shoko apologized quietly. 

Her bloodied hands used two fingers to feel a pulse, but there was nothing left. The sign of life was nowhere to be found. “Fuck,” she whispered with an exhale. [Name] was really gone. 

“If you’re done now, miss, I’ll be taking her.” 

Shoko opened up her eyes and looked at the complete stranger that had a stretcher out for [Name]’s body. “W-who are you?” Shoko asked, scooting closer to [Name]’s body. This guy’s energy was raising red flags everywhere. 

“I am the coroner specified to look after [L.Name] [Name]’s body. I let you look at her body, but now it’s my turn to do my job.” 

Shoko shook her head and denied him, “No, she’s going back to Jujutsu Tech. Her body was to be closely examined there.” 

The man sneered and pointed at the two men next to the stretcher, “Pick this body up and deliver it to the Zen’in’s now.” He wasn’t going to listen to a girl, she would be stupid enough to question authority. And he didn’t have time for it.  

Shoko watched one man grab [Name]’s arms and the other her legs. To this, Shoko hugged [Name]’s cold body and shouted, “No, you can’t take her! She’s not yours or that cruel Zen’in she rejected rightfully!” 

Her outburst caught the boys attention and Satoru was standing right behind the man directing all of this. He took his glasses off for the second time that day and warned the three men, “If you don’t let go of her body, I’ll make sure to stuff you three into one bag and send it to the Zen’in Household. I’ll even send them a card with a nice little message on it signed by Gojo Satoru.” 

The two men holding [Name]’s limbs immediately let go and rushed away with mumbled apologies coming from their mouths. Shoko huffed and the man talking to her walked away with a scowl on his face. He would have to report this immediately to the Zen’in Head. 

“Shoko, I can take her now.” 

She looked up and saw Satoru staring at her with soft blue eyes. His clean hands were outstretched towards her to receive [Name]’s body. Shoko whispered ‘thanks’ and let Satoru pick up [Name]’s lifeless body. Her head was resting on Satoru’s shoulders and the rest of her body was held close to his chest. 

Shoko noticed the tender look in his eyes, the way he looked at [Name] with a longing. 

“Let’s go home.” 

Shoko heard Satoru whisper gently to [Name] and Shoko felt deep remorse in her soul. If only they had listened to Suguru and went straight towards her location. If only, if only, if only, if-

“Hey.” 

Shoko stood up and looked to her left to see Suguru clamp his hand onto her shoulder, “This is not our fault. [Name] knows that too, so let’s not push ourselves over the edge.”

Shoko nodded her head and wiped her eyes before the tears would fall. Suguru was right. The ones at fault were the murderers and she had an idea on who it was that killed her. 

……

Satoru sat in the passenger seat with [Name]’s body in his arms. He held onto her cold body tightly afraid she was going to disappear in a puddle of petals. Her sticky blood had seeped into mind, reminding him of how much she went through.

It was a long and uncomfortable ride for the three students. Again none of them said a word to one another. Too afraid of what was going to be said or what wasn’t. 

His blue eyes looked at every inch of her body. His six eyes examined her state and really confirmed that she had passed away. Her healing capabilities were beyond helping her. 

“Satoru, we’re here.” 

Satoru looked away from [Name]’s peaceful expression and looked to his right to see Suguru’s hands on the open car door. The white haired male stepped out and was greeted by their teacher, Nanami and Haibara. 

Their grim expressions said everything Satoru needed to see. Everyone was just as heartbroken as he was for losing [Name]. His long legs took them up the steps of Jujutsu Tech with everyone following after them. 

They all knew where Satoru was bringing [Name]’s body and no one was going to argue with the strongest. He was followed into the garden maze and he laid her body at the center where roses of all colors surrounded her body immediately. 

He brushed a lock of hair out of her face and sadly smiled down at her peaceful look. She was so beautiful despite being covered in blood and dirt. [Name] looked so serene through it all. He could only imagine the pain she went through.

Yes, my child did go through a lot of pain.

Satoru looked up from his kneeling position and was just as astounded as his peers for staring at the spirit of a goddess. Nami was showing herself to meet humans, they weren’t so sure Nami was actually real. The sad look on Nami’s face confirmed to everyone that [Name] was really gone. But Satoru already knew that with his six eyes. 

She begged for that monster to stop the pain. But like my own tormentor, he did not care. He stabbed my poor girl seven times as a lucky omen to his god.

Nami’s spirit kneeled in front of Satoru’s, both of them on either side of [Name]. Nami’s hands touched [Name]’s face and all the blood began to disappear within an instant. 

“Did she…” Satoru swallowed the lump in his throat. He was afraid to hear the answer from the goddess if he asked his question. Did she call out for me? 

Nami looked up from [Name]’s face and into the blue eyes of her child’s crush. 

No, she didn't. Her mind was too busy with the pain and suffering. But she did think of you before she left. She thought of your blue eyes and white hair. Your smile and the sound you made when you laughed.  And the thought of never seeing you again. 

Satoru clenched his teeth and balled his hands up into fists. His anger was getting the best of him and he wanted to try bargaining with the goddess to save [Name], but he knew she wouldn't have wanted that. So he took the seedling out of his pocket and held it out to the goddess. 

“Take this. For some reason, [Name]’s blessed energy was lingering on this.” Satoru grumbled. 

Nami’s irises shook upon seeing the seedling in his palm. Then she looked at the humans behind Satoru who all held looks of gloom on their faces. Nami was going to let [Name]’s soul rest after the tragedy she went through. But the world needed her and it was obvious so did her friends, her new family. 

Thank you, Gojo Satoru. 

Nami swiped the seedling out of his palm and began singing a lullaby. Her voice was capturing everybody in a trance as she planted the seedling by the podium of her protected soul. 

The bush grew with long vines and two balls of light danced around Nami’s feet. She grabbed the  [f.color] ball of light and hugged it tightly. The music and her voice was so clear in their heads. 

Then Nami walked over to [Name]’s body and pressed the ball of light into her chest where it disappeared into. A gentle smile was on Nami’s face, the singing voice fading softly as she said She won’t remember the tragic events of today. It’s best not to remind her. 

Satoru looked from [Name]’s healing body to Nami, “Are you saying that she will be alright? That she’s-” 

Nami laughed and nodded her head, It’s way too early for this precious soul to come home. But promise me that this time around you’ll protect her, Gojo Satoru?

Satoru nodded his head and said easily, “I promise.” 

Nami’s soul and the other ball of light retreated away leaving the garden in complete darkness again with the full moon being the only source of light. Everyone crowded around [Name]’s body hearing the conversation between Nami and Satoru loud and clear.

A few minutes went by and Haibara looked around the circle with a nervous smile, “She’s supposed to wake up right?” 

“Nami didn’t really specify when, idiot.” Nanami nudged Haibara away from his face with an open palm. This didn’t deter Haibara though as he crouched down by [Name]’s head and cupped his hands around his mouth. 

“IT’S TIME TO WAKE UP, SLEEPY HEAD!” 

“Haibara! You idiot, that’s not going to work!” Nanami scolded and whacked Haibara at the back of his head. The teenager laughed and shrugged his shoulders saying that it was worth a try. 

Meanwhile the second years pondered about how long [Name] would take to keep sleeping. Shoko put her fingers on her wrist and sighed in relief, “Her heart is beating and her breathing is coming to. It looks like she’s just sleeping.”

“We’re lucky that we have a goddess on our side or else we could have lost [Name],” Suguru commented lightly, sitting down next to a quiet Satoru. 

The white haired male agreed with a nod of his head. His hands combed through his hair and he laughed lightly, “We did lose her…for a while. I only brought her body here based on a feeling and that feeling was only because of the seedling. Her soul had transferred over to that seed.” 

Before everyone could ask what he meant by that, [Name] woke up with a groan and yawn. Her body stretched out and everybody dodged her flying limbs. “Careful there, sleeping beauty!” Haibara shouted with an energetic laugh. 

[Name] opened her eyes and looked at everyone strangely, “Alright who dragged me out here?” She sat up and couldn’t help, but notice the tears in Haibara’s and Shoko’s eyes. “Is everything- oomph!” She was enveloped in a giant hug by those two and she looked at the four with confusion. 

“Don’t worry about them. It’s Shoko’s time of the month,” Suguru joked while Nanami nodded his head, “Yes, same for Haibara.” 

[Name] released a laugh and hugged her friends back, “Geez, guys give me some space! I was only sleeping for a bit. Oh man, my back is so sore.” [Name] yawned into her hand and was let go from the hug. 

Her eyes scanned her surroundings and asked, “Why are we in Nami’s Garden? This is a sacred place for the goddess. You can’t just bother her for a prank!” [Name] put the blame on Haibara immediately and pulled on his ear. In turn, Haibara laughed out loud and didn’t mind the small punishment from his classmate. 

“Actually Satoru was setting up a nice star gazing night for you all and I gave him permission,” Masamichi said, walking out of the garden exit. 

[Name] tilted her head and looked at Satoru for the first time since she came back to life, “Huh? Is that true Gojo-senpai?” Her innocence was going to be the death of him. The white haired male crossed his arms over his chest and mumbled, “Yeah.” 

It was supposed to be just them two though. Back when she didn’t die though. 

“What a great idea! Let’s go get snacks at the vending machine!” Haibara shouted and began dragging Nanami with him. He walked away with a cheesy smile on his face rubbing the heck out of his ear.

“Shoko, let’s go join them,” Suguru walked behind the duo and she followed quickly telling [Name] that they’ll be back with blankets and pillows as well. 

“Hey Gojo-senpai, you seem off tonight. You’re very quiet,” [Name] observed and stood up from the bed of flowers that was shaped oddly around her body. She didn’t have time to dwell on it because her upperclassman sighed as he uncrossed his arms. 

“Stop calling me Gojo-senpai and just call me Satoru. We’re almost the same age, you just enrolled a little too late into the school, okay?” 

He sounded exasperated and this made [Name] stifle a laugh with her hand. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t know it bothered you that much, uh, Satoru.” A blush spread across her cheeks and she looked away from his vibrant blue eyes. 

Satoru couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, but he already lost her. This wasn’t going to hurt him at all. So he walked up to her and enveloped her into a hug again, but this time she was warm. This time he turned his infinity off. 

He wanted to feel all of her and she noticed it too. 

“What did I do to earn you trust, Satoru? Your infinity is down for this hug of ours,” [Name] commented softly, her chin barely resting on his shoulder. 

Satoru thought hard about his words and he pulled back to let his right hand caress her cheek, “Your energy is very inviting and I feel…safe around you.” 

[Name] hummed with a cheeky smile, “That’s a lame excuse, Gojo-senpai.” 

“Hey! What happened to calling me Satoru?” He pouted and his shoulders slumped. 

“Maybe if you admit the truth, I’ll go back to calling you by your first name,” She teased. 

“Maybe this will answer your question” Satoru whispered and brought his face closer to hers. She could feel his breath fan across her lips before he dipped further in feeling her lips on top of his. [Name] couldn’t believe it. 

Satoru was actually kissing her. THE Gojo Satoru was kissing her in Nami’s Garden. This definitely had to be a dream. So she took advantage of it. She pressed back with the same amount of enthusiasm which caused Satoru to chuckle lightheartedly in this kiss. 

He pulled back with that beautiful look on his face, “Eager are we?” 

“I’m just making sure it’s not a dream. It felt like I was sleeping for a long time, Satoru,” She whispered with a sad shine in her eyes. 

Satoru quickly noticed this and he pulled her head into his chest, “No, no. You were fine all along.” He didn’t dare look into her tearful eyes, he couldn’t admit to her that she was dead for hours. He didn’t dare tell her of the monster that brutally murdered her. “Your body just needed that real good rest, you know? We all do at some point.” 

[Name] didn’t question why he was acting this way. Why did he ignore the look in her eyes? All she knew was that the kiss was amazing and being in his arms felt safe, like she belonged for once. She hugged him back tightly and whispered, “Thank you, Satoru.” 

She had no idea what she was thanking him for, but she felt the need. 

Satoru rubbed his hand down her back and replied with, “Of course.” His eyes stared intently at the rose that glittered with a bright shine. It was like Nami was giving him approval of his slight confession. He closed his eyes and smiled, thanking Nami again for being the one to actually save [Name]. 

..........

SONGS THAT INSPIRED THIS CHAPTER

Isabella's Lullaby by Takahiro Obata

Just a Man by Jorge Rivera-Herrans

#x reader #manga imagine #anime imagine #x female reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo imagine #gojo x reader #gojo jjk #jjk imagine

[gothhabiba]

can i ask for you to elaborate on your issue(s) with those 'male positivity' posts? is it with the whole sentiment, or just with the "you're allowed to be angry" part? i agree w "you're allowed to be angry" being an oblivious at best statement. but i don't see any issue with the first two statements themselves (the "OP says..." and "commenter says...")

yeah so I already talked about some of this in the tags to those posts but sure, let's get into it.

OP says "if you’re a boy with a mental illness, a boy with a disability, a boy with a history of abuse, a boy who has an eating disorder, a boy with trauma, I need you to know that you are not a burden, that you don’t need to 'harden up', that you shouldn’t just have to 'get over it,' and that you are very brave" commenter says "once I transitioned I saw the change in people being like ‘Oh you poor thing I hope you’re coping alright’ to ‘Just get over it and man up’. Men, you’re allowed to suffer."

the implication of the original post is that men with these issues are told to 'toughen up' or 'get over it,' and conversely that women are not. the commenter then makes this subtext explicit by outright saying that people reacted more sympathetically to his trauma when they read him as a woman than when they read him as a man (at which point they switched to "just get over it"). the OP responds favourably to this addition, proving that the subtext "women don't experience this" was in fact subtext that they intended to be there.

I hope I don't have to explain how utterly absurd it is to claim that women have it easier in this regard, or that their emotions are granted more leeway or sympathy in any meaningfully systematic way. that is just MRA logic.

of course people's ideas about suffering, endurance, trauma, & emotion are gendered! people really do say things about how boys and men should just toughen up and not cry, &c. &c. MRAs, like a lot of other reactionary groups (like TERFs and SWERFs, or antisemites / white supremacists / conspiracy theorists who understand that something's not right with the economy but end up blaming 'minorities' instead of capitalists), take an idea with some truth in it somewhere, but twist it around into a conclusion that the idea in question does not entail on its own (here, "women are allowed to express emotion and garner sympathy by doing so") in a way that leads to resentment, disdain, & hatred for a marginalised group.

so, if it's true that (negative) emotion is thought of as a feminine weakness, why doesn't that translate to women being "allowed" to experience and express emotion, while men are not? for one thing, race has a lot to do with this—the myth of the Black "superwoman," for example, praises Black women for being (read: expects them to be) "tough," "strong," "brave," endless wellsprings of emotional / physical / financial support for others while requiring and receiving no support themselves. the assertion that women receive sympathy for their suffering thus reveals a serious ignorance of Black feminist thought on the part of the person making it.

for another thing, displays of emotion (mostly "negative" emotion, such as sadness) being thought of as primarily feminine means that women have to take especial care to avoid them in many circumstances, not that they're able to freely indulge in them! women's supposed heightened emotionality means that they're less likely to be thought of as capable of serious work, less likely to be promoted or hired, more likely to be financially and professionally penalised for any time they do display any negative emotion (or, rather, the other way around—the myth of women's heightened emotionality is used as an excuse to suppress women's earning potential & make them financially dependent on, and thus exploitable by, men).

on an interpersonal level, you're highly likely as a woman (and especially as a woman of colour) to have fairly mild displays of emotion be interpreted as hysteria, extreme anger, irrationality, volatility. you're highly likely to have your allegations of abuse disbelieved.

on an institutional level, you're highly likely to receive disdain and contempt if you engage in disordered eating habits or try to seek help for them, to have a request for help denied or neglected (disordered eating is just, sort of, what women do). you're also more likely to have a request for help turn into involuntary institutionalisation or psychiatric abuse (a lot of work has been done on the relationship between psychiatry and gender).

also on an institutional level, you are less likely to be believed about the pain you are in as a disabled, chronically ill, or otherwise sick woman (again, especially a woman of colour). you are less likely to receive medical care. you are less likely to have anyone give a shit about the pain you're in, since women are so emotional and melodramatic that you are probably exaggerating, and anyway, being in pain is just sort of women's natural state. you are certainly very unlikely to get any kind of medical care if you're a middle-class cisgender white (read: desirable) woman of 'childbearing age' & the extreme pain that you're in would require risk to your fertility to treat.

there's so much more I could go into here. the basic idea is that properly analysing the relationship between emotion, communication, trauma, abuse, race, class, gender, and the uses of rhetoric that references any of the above (e.g. "boys don't cry") is an enormous undertaking. any claim that implies that women (which women?) wholesale receive more sympathy than men (which men?) do for abuse or other pain that they experience, or that they are more free to express that pain, is both inconsistent with reality on a base level, and incredibly irresponsible. the fact (if it's even true) that "girls" are punished less for crying than "boys" does not a whole picture make.

and, like, think about it. we're living in a patriarchy wherein women are expected to care for and sympathise with men, to forgive men for varied wrongdoings in the family & in romantic relationships, to coddle them in order to avoid or appease their anger, to perform (depending on their class position) various kinds of domestic labour and social / planning work for men without recompense, acknowledgement, or thanks (because knowing how to do and plan housework is just, like, women's natural state of being)—a system where the family and the home faciliate and cover for mass amounts of traumatisation and abuse, including sexual abuse, of girls and women—a system wherein trans women are highly likely to be traumatised and yet disciplined out of expressions of anger or upset under threat of social exile—a system wherein cisgender women cannot be allowed to become too wary of or angry at men (read: too unwilling to continue marrying them and performing a significant role in the social reproduction of their class). how on earth could such a system also enable (rather than allowing for occasional escape valves for, but mostly seeking to supress or transform) women's free expression of upset, sadness, trauma, anger...?

this is the same kind of logic that leads people to believe and spread nonsense such as "people believe women who come forward about being abused and not men," which is just demonstrably inconsistent with everything that we can observe about reality.

#Anonymous #questions #gender

[sugumii]

Could I request Gepard and Jing Yuan receiving a bouquet of flowers from their gardener s/o?

The HSR boys with a Gardener! S/o: Giving them flowers

Warnings: Brief mention of blood in Blade’s, nothing gorey however.

Of course, here you are. I hope you enjoy it! This was very fun to write.

Jing Yuan-

···

GIF by jing-yuan

"Where did you get those, love?"

Curious golden eyes followed your approaching figure, eyeing the small bouquet of assorted flowers in your gloved hold. The stems were tied up neatly by a small red bow with plants composed of complimenting colors such as reds, pinks, and whites. The flowers were gorgeous, to say the least.

"I grew them in the garden!"

"The botanic garden? How beautiful." Jing Yuan murmured, leaning over your figure to get a better look at them. He was impressed by the talent you possessed to grow such extravagant varieties of plants as well as the time you found to care for them. The older male found himself envying you, wishing he had as much free time as you to try his hand at gardening. You looked at him with a small smile and offered the bouquet to him.

"Here, they're for you!"

The general paused.

"For... me?"

You chuckled and gently pushed them into his hands which he accepted with a grateful smile, admiring them with a loving gaze.

"Yes, love. I grew them for you."

A minuscule blush adorned the male's pale cheeks as he cleared his throat, slightly flustered at this unexpected present. Flowers... for him? In all his years of living, he never received such a thoughtful gift. Usually, it was him giving, not the other way around. Though, he supposes in that regard some merely accepted his gifts due to his immense wealth. The fact you were the first to give him such a meaningful gift moved him.

Jing Yuan's gaze remained fixated on the flowers. A tender smile graced his features and his eyes wrinkled in delight. You chuckled since you could tell he was ecstatic despite his calm exterior.

"Thank you, my beloved. They're absolutely divine... but not as radiant as you."

You grinned, happy that he was appreciative of your small token of love. Of course, you knew how fond of nature your lover was, constantly catching him smelling and caressing the flowers in the garden. He often took his evening strolls there, taking his time to admire the scenery around him.

Jing Yuan opened his arms, making sure to be careful with the flowers you had given him, and hugged you. You chuckled and hugged him back joyfully.

"You're so precious, my beloved. I truly do not deserve someone as wonderful as you."

——

Ever since you had given your lover the colorful bouquet, you noticed him taking his breaks more often in the garden. Every sliver of free time he got, he spent with you and the garden. You'd often see him taking a peaceful stroll by his lonesome, bent over talking to someone. You remember glancing around your surroundings and sneaking up behind him in curiosity, wondering who he could possibly be talking to. It was then you saw the adorable sight of him crouched down, caressing a rose's petals with a small smile. He was telling the flora about the history of Xianzhou Luofu and how much love he held for you. It made your heart flutter at how adorable he was.

You had once mentioned how you enjoyed singing to your plants since it was a common belief that talking to them would make them grow faster. What you didn't expect was your handsome general to take your words to heart and begin doing it himself.

"Life is as ephemeral as dew on a leaf and full of worldly strife such as beings like you. Nature is quite beautiful." Jing Yuan recited, now holding a bird that was perched on his fingers. The bird sang happily in agreement, doing its best to help serenade the flowers. Your heart fluttered upon seeing the cute sight, it was like the scene was straight out of a fairy tale.

So this explains why your flowers bloomed so fast.

"Do remember, little ones... you must grow big and strong like a warrior for my s/o. Only then can you become vibrant and florish."

Gepard:

···

GIF by roxaxs

"Are these... for me..?" The captain asked with flushed cheeks. An adorable pink hue painted his cheeks causing you to let out a laugh in response to his cuteness.

“Yes, honey. I grew them for you! Do you like them?”

“Like them?” He repeated, staring down at the small bouquet in his gloved hands. His heart was beating rapidly at the unexpected gift, making his mind hazy with happy thoughts of you. “Of course I do! I love them. I’ve never received a gift like this before so… it’s quite special to me.”

Your eyes widened at the newfound information. Really? That’s shocking, to say the least… a man as gorgeous as Gepard, not to mention the leader of the Silvermane Guards who constantly risks his life for the citizens of Belobog, never received flowers? This poor baby boy… you were definitely going to spoil him now!

“Never? Not even once?” You questioned further.

“Never…” He looked down with a shy expression, fidgeting on his feet.

“Whaaat?! That’s hard to believe… not even once as a thank you for protecting the city?”

Gepard looked at you with an embarrassed smile and shook his head.

“On the occasion that the citizens of Belobog do express their gratitude, they usually offer me gift baskets of fruit or thank you cards to which I try to reject… but not flowers.”

“That’s hard to believe.” You murmured with a thoughtful look. “Well, never mind that. I’m glad you like them! Surprisingly, they grew quicker than usual.”

It was then you noticed Gepard’s cheeks burning a brighter red as you flashed him an incredulous look. What was that boy blushing about now? Was it something you said?

“Is something the matter?” You asked with an eyebrow raised at the man’s responsive behavior.

“I- um… well, you see… they might've been growing because…” He murmured, the rest of his sentence falling on deaf ears. You shot him a confused glance since this was unusual of your boyfriend.

“What?”

“I said sometimes during my break I visit the garden… and I sing to the garden because Serval told me once if I sang to the flowers then maybe they’d start to grow faster…”

With a rigorous heartbeat, you placed a hand over your chest, blushing at his cuteness. Just how could someone be so precious?! Despite Gepard’s failed attempts at gardening with you (Mostly due to him accidentally exerting too much strength and pulling the roots off the flowers when transplanting or accidentally stepping on his newly planted flower with a horrified expression) he still did his best to help you. He always had a passion for outdoor hobbies, but just… made a few clumsy mistakes at times.

You launched yourself onto the embarrassed guard and squeezed him earning a sort of squeak in response.

“AHHH, Gepard! You’re so cute!”

"C-cute?!"

Let's just say said male almost died that day for the second time.

___

Sampo-

···

GIF by incultas

"Uhh... is this some kinda scam or something?" Sampo asked with a perplexed expression.

"No? It's just flowers." You replied with an equally confused expression.

"..."

"..."

Uncharacteristically, the violet-haired male was silent. For once, he had no idea what to say or how to react. This was just so... unexpected. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect to receive such a kind gift- flowers nonetheless.

It felt... weird.

"Do you want them or not?" You waved the bouquet in front of his face with a frown. The male seemingly snapped back from his thoughts and rubbed the back of his head with a nervous expression.

"If I do, what do you want in return?"

Laughter erupted from your throat at your lover's negotiation. Did he really think you were giving him a present only to expect something in return? Aeons, was bargaining the only thing this man knew how to do?

"I don't want anything. Only for you to take the flowers I grew for you!"

"You... grew these?" He replied in disbelief, finally taking the bundle of flowers from you. His eyes twinkled with amazement, very happy to have received such a beautiful gift. "I mean, of course, you grew these! Who else but my amazing and wonderful s/o could grow these?"

With that, the taller male hugged you, much to your surprise. You were caught off guard not expecting your boyfriend to hug you in public. Typically, he preferred to smother you in affection in the privacy of your home since he didn't want any bad guys to target you too. (Since he was quite the troublesome man, according to many of his customers.)

"I love you, Koski." You said, happily returning his embrace. His hands lowered to rest themselves on your waist as he grinned proudly.

"I love you too, sweets." The male thought for a moment before his eyes widened as an idea came to his head. "Say... why don't you teach The Sampo Koski how to garden with you? We could make some serious income from-"

"No!"

"Okay, okay, Sampo understands... it was worth a shot anyway." He murmured apologetically.

___

"But seriously, babe... we could make a profit outta-"

"I said NO Koski!"

---

Dan Heng-



···

GIF by honkaiedit

For once, Dan Heng was stunned.

And it wasn't because of the trailblazer digging through the trash can (fortunately.)

He stood still with his eyes in a daze, Never in his life did he expect you of all people to give him flowers. Of course, he's gone out of his way multiple times to purchase a bouquet for you occasionally, but he never expected you to return the favor. One you personally grew yourself too.

It felt... strange.

But it also warmed his heart at the same time.

His heartbeat was erratic as he stammered, much unlike him.

“Thank you, Y/n… but what’s the occasion?”

You hummed in thought, placing a hand on your chin as if in deep thought. Dan Heng awaited your reply while also admiring the flowers. He just couldn't remove his gaze from them. They were utterly gorgeous.

“Well, you know how Ms. Himeko and I were given some seeds as thanks from villagers at the last planet? Well, we decided to plant them and they grew the next day! Isn't that cool?” You rambled excitedly with a sparkle in your eyes. Dan Heng's felt a fluttery feeling in his chest at your enthusiastic tone. “I thought, 'Wow these are gorgeous, they’d look amazing in Dan Heng’s room!' So here I am giving them to you!”

“In my room?” He repeated. “You mean our room, right?” The look your boyfriend gave you was one of confusion and slight hurt. What did you mean by 'his' room?

“Yes, yes, our room. It’s just our room is so plain! I wanted to brighten it up a bit with something colorful, you know?” You said, smiling at him. You realized how your words may have come off wrongly and quickly added, “Not that your taste is bad or anything! I’m just used to colors everywhere since at my old home I used to garden a lot. Can’t really do much here on the express.”

“I see.”

Dan Heng looked at you with a kind smile and warmth in his heart. “Of course, I understand. Thank you, love. I appreciate the beautiful gift.”

“It’s no problem, darling.” You grinned, quickly jumping into his awaiting arms signaling he wanted a hug from you. You both stood there in each other’s embrace for a moment, cherishing the beat of each other's hearts. Together, you felt complete almost as if the whole world revolved around the two of you. Love was truly a beautiful thing. It made the both of you forget your current troubles, finding comfort in one another's presence.

Dan Heng smiled softly at you and kissed your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, darling.”

___

“Ahem… Y/n? Where should I put the flowers?” Your boyfriend asked, looking for a flat surface to put them on. You squinted around the room before pointing at his bookshelf.

“How about on top of your bookshelf? There’s nothing to disturb them and if it fell it wouldn’t get anything wet there.”

"You're right. Perfect."

"Like you." You snickered, watching as Dan Heng's body stiffened when reaching up to place the flower pot. He desperately tried to hide his growing blush from you, but you already knew he had one. His body language said everything, after all.

——-

Blade-

···

GIF by fandomfiish

“What’s this?”

“Flowers.”

“…For who?”

“You, who else?”

Your boyfriend stared at the bouquet you were holding with a blank expression.

“…Why?”

You huffed, irritated at his difficult attitude. You knew he was just messing with you and succeeding at getting under your skin. Blade was quite the sadist, after all. He loved getting on your nerves. The smug expression on his face said it all. He was toying with you.

“Because I want to? I grew them in my garden. So, will you take them or not?”

The male thought for a moment. Not once in his entire lifetime had he dealt with an experience as awkward as this. No… he didn’t think you giving him flowers was an awkward gesture. Rather, he just felt that way because he didn’t know how to react. He’s been a man with a heavy burden on his shoulders weighing him down every day. His immortality constantly pressures him, causing his thoughts to consume his mind daily. He’s rarely experienced true happiness from gentle moments like these. He was just… unsure what to say.

Finally, he made up his mind. He reached his hand out, gently taking the flowers much to your surprise.

“…Thank you.”

Your heart swelled with happiness as you offered him a smile with your hands tied behind your back.

“You’re welcome~!”

—-

“Oh? What's this? The cold and tough Bladie has flowers? How interesting… I wonder who they’re from?” Kafka said with a teasing grin, watching as her companion walked silently down the halls with the bouquet in hand. “Did your s/o give them to you, perhaps?”

“…It’s none of your business.” He responded coldly, continuing his way to his room. It had been approximately two hours since you had given him the sweet gift and he refused to set it down in fear of them wilting. He didn't know how to care for them properly so he stuck to carrying them.

Once he was in the privacy of his quarters, he sat down on his bed and continued to stare at them with a slight curve of his lips. He gently caressed the petals of the roses, admiring how they were crimson, resembling the color of blood.

He loved it.

Blade smirked and admired them, entranced by their beauty. He never knew you were so talented at gardening. Perhaps he should return the favor to you someday and give you a gift. He never knew he was interested in roses until now.

Yes… they were beautiful, but not as beautiful as you.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #jing yuan x reader #fanfic #blade x y/n #hsr blade #gepard x reader #gepard landau #sampo koski #sampo x reader #hsr sampo #sampo honkai #blade honkai #hsr blade x reader #dan heng x reader #hsr dan heng #dan heng #honkai x reader #star rail #gepard #gepard x y/n #gepard x you #hsr gepard #hsr x gender neutral reader

[storiesfromafan]

Traitor

A/N: its been a little while. Back with some more angst haha. This will be a 2 part, maybe even a 3 part 🙂

Pairing: Mattheo x Fem! Raventclaw Reader

Warnings: angst

Ooh-ooh-ooh

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

It’s funny how you can go from happily in a relationship one minute and then sour, almost bitter from the ending of it, the next. That is what happened to you. Blissfully happy with Mattheo Riddle during your fifth year. You had spent your Easter holidays at home, accompanying your father to a Ministry party. You had been at your father’s side to start before finding yourself sitting alone. Sometime later your father had returned to you with two  familiar Slytherin boys in tow, Draco Malfoy and Mattheo Riddle. Your father had business with Lucius Malfoy and had said you and the two males could keep each other company. It was a start to a budding friendship for the three of you. By the time you returned to Hogwarts you and Mattheo had a flirtatious thing going on. Soon it led to dating and by the end of May you were his girlfriend.

The rest of the year was learning about each other and learning how to function in a relationship. For the most of it, it was good. But slowly you started to see how possessive Mattheo could get, or his jealous tendencies. Though you learned it was due to his home life and up bringing. You talked it out with him as best you could, as he gave vague answers to your questions. You were satisfied with what you learnt. What would be red flags, were more pink after your talk. You didn’t push him more then needed, you didn’t want to cause him to shut off from you or end your relationship. So, fifth year ended with your relationship being solid, and happy.

After a decent summer holiday, the 1st of September returned and off to Hogwarts came around marking your sixth year. You returned with Mattheo at your side, hands locked together. Your relationship strong and seeming to only get stronger. Unfortunately, you didn’t foresee you’d make it to the New Year before Mattheo broke up with you. You asked him all the typically questions to why he was breaking up with you, and you got a typical answer from the brunet with the deepest brown eyes.

Brown guilty eyes and little white lies

Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew

That you'd talk to her, maybe did even worse

I kept quiet so I could keep you

You recall the 2nd of January; you were enjoying the afternoon sun in the courtyard when Mattheo approached you. You were all smiles when seeing him, greeting him before starting to talk about your upcoming classes in a few days. It wasn’t long before he cut you off, his tone harsh and a tad formal. It was unlike him to be like that. For the Mattheo you knew was considerate, patient and an attentive listener. This Mattheo was someone you didn’t know. Looking at him in confusion he took that as his cue to speak.

“Y/N, I have been thinking during Christmas break” he started looking down at his feet. “I have found the last almost seven months to have been a wonderful time together” he looked up at you with those deep brown eyes of his, they shone with guilt.

You felt a sudden cold sensation wash over you. “Theo, you’re…you’re not saying what I think your saying” you said shakily, scared eyes looking back at him.

He nodded his head once, “yes, it is Y/N”.

You felt sick with every word he said. You hadn’t even known there was a problem with your relationship. You thought you were both happy, and in love. But here he was, breaking up with you. And the first thing you thought of was her. The Slytherin girl named Anna Frost, blonde long locks, green eyes and petite form. Mattheo had over the last three months became close to the girl, his friend as he called her. But you always thought there was something there. Before telling yourself, you were just being silly, a little jealous.

“We have had so many amazing times together” a small sad smile forming on his lips before he went back to a blank expression. “But we’ve run our course Y/N/N. I hope we can still be friends”.

Friends. That was a slap to the face, adding salt to an exposed wound. How could he say that to you? It was like the Mattheo you knew was dead, and the person before you were an imposter. Or was this who he really was? Had he played you the whole time? No, he hadn’t. You had shared so many personal and private things together.

“I-I don’t understand” you sputtered, trying to wrap your head around it.

He sighed. “I had wanted to be as nice as possible about this” his tone cold. “Us, we are over. We are done”. And without waiting for your reply, Mattheo walked off. Leaving you alone, cold, mind reeling and uncomfortable with the eyes currently on you.

So, you gathered your belongings before rushing back to your Ravenclaw dorm room. Where you finally cried as it sunk in. Mattheo dumped you. Your whimsical romance was over. Your heart ripped out and stomped on by the Slytherin Devil himself.

And ain't it funny

How you ran to her

The second that we called it quits?

And ain't it funny

How you said you were friends?

Now it sure as hell don't look like it

Gossip in the few days after your breakup told you that as soon as Mattheo broke up with you, he was running off to his blonde Slytherin friend. They were seen hanging out together, along with Draco, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire. All chatting and laughing away, like only ten minutes before, when he broke up with you, didn’t happen. He acted like nothing transpired, you hadn’t existed, or he’d been in a relationship with you. It hurt to hear that. The girls in your Ravenclaw dorm were there for you and told you before you heard it from anyone else.

But as your mind started to think everything over, you thought it funny how he ran off after breaking up with you to her. Now it sure as hell didn’t look like friends with them. Who goes from the girl they broke up with, to their female friend and act like their ex didn’t exist? The times you had thought you were being silly, and jealous, over the Slytherin girl were now not a laughing matter. His actions spoke loud and clear.

You betrayed me

And I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

You'd talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn't matter

It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

Betrayal. The best word to describe what Mattheo had done to you. You had been there for him, for the good times and the bad. But also, the worst moments, which usually involved his home life. He would get letters, which he never showed you and you respected his privacy, but they would leave him almost a shell of himself. So, you would be the one to drag him somewhere you both could be alone. You’d hold him and tell him all the great things about him. Slowly building him back up till he was almost himself again. He had been so grateful for those moments. And the way he’d repay you was giving you all his attention when he could or taking you to Hogsmeade and making those dates so special. Mattheo treated you like a Princess for all the kindness you gave him.

Finally processing what had happened, you were left feeling sour, bitter from how it ended. And those feelings only got worse as after two weeks Mattheo and Anna started dating. It was the hot gossip Monday morning, as they walked into the Great Hall together holding hands. That had been how you both had entered the hall every mealtime, before parting ways to sit at respected tables, though your eyes were always watching the other. Mattheo and Anna sat side by side at the Slytherin table, that was on display to you. As you unconsciously sat where you had always sat. You looked away from them as you picked at your food, occasionally eating. But every now and then you would look to them. Anna fussed over Mattheo and laughed at whatever was said. Or there was the time you looked, and they were talking with Draco and Pansy, he smiled softly at their conversation while Anna held onto Mattheo’s arm.

Now you bring her around

Just to shut me down

Show her off like she's a new trophy

And I know if you were true

There's no damn way that you

Could fall in love with somebody that quickly

With every encounter you had with the two; either shared classes, mealtimes, hallways, etc. Your mixed emotions grew. Seeing them together was a constant slap in the face. Such as Potions class. They were partners, Anna always making goo-goo eyes at Mattheo and doing anything to get close to him. It made you sick, you wanted to throw up. Thankfully your Potions partner and fellow Ravenclaw, Hugo Andrews, could see how it was effecting you. He was sweet, doing everything to distract you, getting you to focus on the potion Snape had you brewing.

But every now and then you would hear Anna’s stupid laugh. And you would wince, another hit to your crumbling resolve. When you would sneak a look, you would see Mattheo close to her, playing around and looking happy, almost in love. That was it. You turned away, focused on the potion and told yourself it was done.

Ain't it funny

All the twisted games

All the questions you used to avoid?

Ain't it funny?

Remember I brought her up

And you told me I was paranoid

Over time, as much as you pushed Mattheo from your mind, everything would resurface. Even more so when people would talk to you, either fishing for gossip or genuinely confused to what happened. And at random times you would go over everything in your head, trying to work out what happened.

But then one night, while laying awake in bed, you once again began to mull it all over. It was funny that over the three months of his new friendship you started out with subtle questions, before them getting more blunt. He would either tip toe around them, give short vague answers, or plain out tell you that you were over thinking it all. Yet part of you knew something hadn’t been right. And them getting together confirmed that.

You betrayed me

And I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

You'd talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn't matter

It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

God, I wish that you had thought this through

Before I went and fell in love with you

(Ah-ah-ah)

Saturday afternoon was a lazy one. You had taken to going for a walk, to clear your head and escape from the castle of gossip and your ex. The fresh air was nice, it was still cold but it was mid February. Which meant winter was almost over, and spring (your favourite season) was coming. Looking around the grounds, which still had some white covering it, green patches here and there. You couldn’t wait for the grass to be a vibrant green, and wild flowers to cover patches of the land.

You could already picture laying in the wild flowers, warm sun beaming down on you. You’d pick dandelions and blow the white sprouts from the stem, watching the wind carry off the seeds. But then you remembered how you would do that with Mattheo. How you would lounge together in the flowers, soaking up the sun. You would talk about school or random things while watching the sky. The sweet moments you both shared sent your heart aching.

The peace and quiet didn’t last, as you heard the faint crunch of snow under feet. Upon turning around you found the person you were just thinking about. You felt a rush of anger, how dare he walk where you usually went. How dare he have done many things to you, or to hurt you. Glaring at the approaching figure, you wanted him to know he was unwelcome. Hoping he would see your state, turn around & scurry off back to the dungeons of the castle, never to be seen again. But nope, you were wrong.

Mattheo had seen you leave the castle, he had watched you leave the front doors of the school, walk around the side of the building, past the turn off for the Quidditch area and down the familiar path you’d both taken. He knew you wanted to be alone, but he had to talk to you. Yes, he wasn’t stupid, he’d seen your reaction to everything that had been going on since your break up. He had even heard the gossip students were saying, majority of it being all lies. Part of him felt bad, responsible for your state.

The glare on your face told him he wasn’t welcome, but he wouldn’t back down. Sporting a blank face, Mattheo stared at you. “Y/N” he said with a nod of his head. “How are you?”

That was it. Hearing those words pass Mattheo Riddles lips opened up the floodgate of your emotions and thoughts. He would regret those words after you’re done with him. Your nostrils flared as you took in a sharp breath.

“You want to know how I am?” You asked a little too calmly, to which he nodded his head. “Well I don’t know. Maybe I am upset, maybe I am angry. Maybe I am confused. Or maybe I am all that and more Riddle” you spat out his surname.

Mattheo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t thought you would be like this. He thought you would say you were sad and angry, you’d both talk it out and you’d both move on. He didn’t expect you would be furious, possibly wanting his blood. As the saying goes: Hell hath no furry like a woman scorned.

When she's sleeping in the bed we made

Don't you dare forget about the way

“Do you expect me to be fine? Happy for your new relationship?” You asked, spitting out the word relationship. “Do you expect me to act like the time we were together meant nothing? Like it never happened? I can’t, because it meant something to me...”

Mattheo moved from foot to foot, his calm and uncaring image starting to slip. “Y/N, I’m sorry you feel like this” he started, and you scoffed rolling your eyes. “I genuinely didn’t know you were taking it this hard-“

“Seriously!? Everyone with functioning eyes can see how I have been” you cut him off. “Oh I’m sorry, I forgot if it doesn’t involve you, it wasn’t important”.

His eyes darker and focused on you. “No, that is not true”.

“Huh, it is. Its always about you. After all you got to know your knew girlfriend before ending it with me, and jumped into a relationship with her not long after we ended. Hence why it’s all about you, or else you’d have considered me and my feelings before doing what you did”.

Mattheo was silent for a moment, trying to keep calm. “I did think about you...I ended it because we ran our course. I didn’t want to string you along”.

You laughed bitterly. “Sure, tell yourself what you have to Riddle. You betrayed me. 'Cause I know that you'll never feel sorry, for the way I hurt, yeah?” it was a rhetorical question. “You'd talk to her, when we were together. You gave me your word, but that didn't matter”.

“That’s not fair” Mattheo argued, but you weren’t having it.

“It took you two weeks, to go off and date her. Guess you didn't cheat. But you're still... you're still a traitor” you said it all in a rush, letting everything you’d been holding back out. “Yeah, you're still a traitor!”

Getting the words and feelings out released a weight you’d been carrying around. He needed to see how hurt you were, how furious you were, how frantic you were. Mattheo needed to know he had broken you, but now you were going to build yourself back up. You were done with him, done with how you felt.

Mattheo stood there like a deer in headlights. He hadn’t expected you to say what you said, or really unload all you had. Nor did he blame you. He deserved what he got. He figured you would be hurt but not to this extent. Mattheo Riddle had hurt you deeply, and now you were done with him for good. And he didn’t like that. If only he hadn’t had to do what he did. If only it could have been different.

Ooh-ooh-ooh

Seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything you decided it was time to leave. Turning from the boy before you, you didn’t bother to look at him. Or else you’d have seen the hurt in his eyes, along with unshed tears. Or how his shoulders slumped, or how weak he was right then.

After taking a few steps you stopped, but not looking back you said; “God, I wish that you had thought this through...before I went and fell in love with you”.

With those final words, the final goodbye, you left Mattheo alone. He watched your retreating form, with each step his heart cracking. And then when you were gone from sight, his heart shattered. For he had not wanted to break up with you, he didn’t want to jump into a relationship with Anna, he didn’t want to hurt you, and he didn’t want you to walk away from him for good.

“I wish I didn’t have to do this to you Y/N/N...” Mattheo said softly to the silence around him. “But if I didn’t, he would have hurt you. And I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t let you get hurt”. The tears in his eyes slowly fell. “It hurts to have you hate me...but if it saves you from my father, I will carry this pain...”

A/N: hope you enjoyed. & part 2 will be up soon 🙂

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #Spotify

[lordmushroomkat]

《The strong association of PCOS with cis womanhood, the defining of it as a disorder or syndrome, and its framing as a “women’s health issue” obscures the fact that PCOS is a natural hormonal variation, an endocrine difference that is illustrated through secondary sex characteristics. 

During my initial search for resources and community, I also learned that PCOS, given its characterization as a hormonal variance, falls under the intersex umbrella. This intersex umbrella covers a wide range of “individuals born with a hormonal, chromosomal, gonadal or genital variation which is considered outside of the male and female norms,” and PCOS meets that definition. 

This is not an attempt to sway every person who has PCOS to identify themselves as intersex—though it is an acknowledgment that we have the option and the right to do so if it rings true to us. Rather, this is to say that shifting my perspective on PCOS and viewing it through an intersex lens allowed me to better understand it as a natural human variation rather than an affliction causing my body to do the “wrong” thing. 

“I believe that someone with PCOS has every right to use the term intersex for themselves if they want, but I also understand it if they don’t,” said writer and intersex advocate Amanda Saenz.

“As an advocate and an intersex person, I opt to use a definition of intersex that is open ended and expansive,” Saenz explains. “The experiences that a term like ‘intersex’ hopes to define include differences in hormonal production and hormone reception, and the phenotypic effects these differences have on the body. To me, this is inclusive of things like PCOS.”

Discussing PCOS in this way is often met with indignation and resistance. Our society has a hard time separating gender from sex. This has resulted in a widespread misunderstanding of intersex identity as equivalent to transgender identity. Many who vehemently resist the idea of PCOS being under the intersex umbrella do so because they categorically link “female” with “woman,” and therefore misinterpret any acceptance of intersex identity as a denial of womanhood. Moreover, the stigma around and marginalization of intersex communities prevents many people from feeling comfortable with embracing it. 

“You can be intersex and cisgender, transgender, or nonbinary. The ‘opposite’ of intersex is endosex, not cisgender,” explained Eshe Kiama Zuri, founder of U.K. Mutual Aid. As a nonbinary intersex person, Zuri approaches these ideas with a clear understanding of how the bodies of intersex individuals as well as many people with PCOS interrupt binary thinking about both sex and gender. 

“The resistance to PCOS falling under the intersex umbrella is due to a white supremacist society’s desperation to cling to binary genders, which we know [have been] used as a colonial tool of control,” they offer. 

The same medical and surgical interventions that legislators seek to ban trans and nonbinary people from accessing—which would be gender-affirming, life-saving care for them—are often forced on intersex infants and children who are unable to consent. This is done in efforts to align intersex bodies with social expectations of female and male, man and woman; the same logic undergirds the societal and medical pressure to “feminize” the female-assigned bodies of PCOS patients. 

PCOS is “shockingly common [and] the most frequently occurring hormone-related disorder.” However, according to Medical News Today, “up to 75% of [people] with PCOS do not receive a diagnosis for their condition.” If we were to understand and accept something like PCOS as intersex, considering how “shockingly common” it is, the dominant idea of binary sex, with intersex being thought of as nothing more than a fringe occurrence, would be shattered. 

“PCOS is only one of many conditions that could fall under the intersex umbrella, and care for people with PCOS would be considerably better if it wasn’t for the forced gendering and resistance to providing actual support for people with PCOS, even if it challenges society’s ideas of gender,” says Zuri. 

Combating myths built around the gender and sex binaries would create more space to understand PCOS traits as part of normal human variation, rather than inherent problems to be fixed, symptoms to be eradicated. As Zuri so beautifully put it, “When we start to accept that this is not a body behaving ‘wrong’ and it is just a body, we stop blaming and punishing people for how their bodies work and start challenging societal expectations.”》

I was fucking right!

#PCOS #Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome #polycystic ovary syndrome #Intersex #female-assigned intersex #afab intersex #polycystic ovarian syndrome