#they all looked so bloody good in this battle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slushycoookie · 4 months

Text

My Husband Has a Symbiote! Pt.1

Relationship: Symbiote! Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Content: Smut, definitely smut, p in v, oral sex, overstimulation, belly bulge, breeding kink in FULL display, fertility issues, Minors DNI!!

Summary: You find out Miguel has a symbiote for the most unexpected reason.

A/N: I kept thinking about Symbiote! Miguel and I just had to do it. If yall saw that recent concept art of him, he looks fucking huge. So as a birthday present to myself, I wrote this. Something to get us by while I continue writing the Valentine's Day one.

Miguel had a symbiote.

You knew the first day he got it. He was acting strange. More aggressive, energetic, and driven to his Spider Society cause. Also rough. You knew it when he pulled you in for a passionate goodbye kiss.

Plus, he was huge. You didn't think it was possible for your husband to get a bigger size in his suit. It oozed a foreign entity. He was rougher with his enemies. Causing them to be bruised and bloody at the end of the battle. Your Miguel showed some restraint. You weren't sure what this Miguel was.

Jess told you at the end of the day, confirming your suspicions. “He has a symbiote.”

“I figured…” You played with the necklace that had your wedding band between your fingers. “How did he get it?”

“No clue. One day, he was his grouchy self. Next day, he was extra grouchy.”

“What can we do? We have ways to get rid of it.”

Jess gave you a knowing look, “You know it's not easy with symbiotes. The wearer has to get rid of it on their own. Part of the-”

“Canon event. I know…” You sighed. You weren't going to get scared. Be afraid for your husband's life. You would take the knowledge you knew now in stride, even if that meant dealing with the fact that your partner had an alien on his body.

You didn't confront him about the symbiote. You saw no need to. Ben and Jess were informed. You wanted them to watch him so he wouldn't go too far. But you didn’t like how he was acting. He never took it out on you, but everyone else was a different story. It was hard for you to sleep, knowing your husband was in control of an alien.

One night, he came home late. You were still awake, watching his hulking form linger throughout the house. If you were normal, you'd be terrified.

“Miguel?” You called from the hallway. He turned towards you. His mask was still up. The eyes were sharp, filled with an unknown emotion you couldn't grasp.

“Our wife.” His voice was deep, rumbling to your core. Sharp teeth and a long tongue caught your eye. He inched to you like a predator. You backed up, mind playing out hundreds of backup plans you had once you found out about his new form. You jumped when hitting a wall. Cornered as Miguel hovered above you. His head trailed up and down in fascination. “So pretty. To eat.”

“I said we're not eating her.” Half of Miguel's face appeared, causing you to relax a little. He was still in there. To a certain extent.

“Not the type of eating we were talking about.” The symbiote sized you up even more. You didn't know how to take that. Miguel entirely took over, his face in view.

“I'm sorry. I'm still getting the hang of this.”

“Why did you do this?” You motioned to all of him, “For a man who doesn't play when it comes to canon events, you go ahead and play around with an alien.”

Miguel sucked his teeth, “I had a good reason, baby.” You blinked, waiting for him to come up with a good explanation. He shifted, his large form shaking the photos on the wall. You couldn't see any reason for him to form with a symbiote.

“I thought…it would help in our process of trying to have a baby.”

You froze. The extensive trials you and Miguel went through in trying for a baby were unsuccessful. He knew about your fertility issues. He knew before you got married. You didn’t expect him to go and fuse with a symbiote to boost the rate of being able to have a baby.

“The symbiote enhances my body.” Miguel explained, “Maybe we could try to use it to help us conceive.”

“Won’t the symbiotes…genes get in…?” You placed a hand on your stomach, not believing that you were considering it.

“No. It won’t affect any of our genes. It just increases the output.”

You scoffed, “So you would have super sperm?”

“In a way.” Miguel shrugged, hovering over you. You noticed how small you were compared to him. Your thighs squeezed together at the sight. “We should try it. See what happens.”

Common sense was starting to leave the window. Just having Miguel’s hulking frame above you, his eyes lowered in lust, was not helping. You were curious yourself. Would the symbiote help you finally be able to conceive? So your family can get bigger?

“You want me to have sex with the symbiote?”

Miguel chuckled, face down to your neck, taking in your delicate scent. “It’s still me. I promise.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders. His suit was sticky and you felt restraint when tried to remove your hands. You had no idea what you were doing. But it was your husband. You trusted him, knowing he wouldn’t harm you. So you had to take a leap. Literally. Miguel was so large you had to jump to even kiss him.

Your body flushed against his own as his tongue dove into your mouth. You were so caught up in kissing him, absorbed in how his hands groped and felt you, to realize you were in your bedroom.

You yelped when landing on the bed. Miguel's form hit the ceiling, standing at the edge. Waiting.

“Strip.” The voice was back again. Low, deep, and commanding. You blushed at how much that turned you on. Even with the monstrous teeth and all. You weren't wearing much besides a t-shirt and shorts, tossing them into darkness. Only remaining in your panties.

Miguel cupped himself, eyes trained on the prize between your legs. “All of it.”

You slid down your underwear at a slow pace. Even if you were about to get bred by a symbiote, you knew Miguel would still go crazy over your teasing. Pride swelled in your chest as his breathing became ragged. Every ounce of resistance he had in fucking you into the ground was waning. It wasn't until your panties were thrown aside that he pounced on you.

The bed creaked at the extra size. Miguel's symbiote used its long tongue over your neck, tasting the slight sweat. Your breasts, twirling at one nipple while his fingers pinched the other. Before going down to your stomach and over what he wanted most.

“We deserve to know how you taste…”

If you could squeeze your thighs together right now, you would. But your partner kept them separated. Spread wide enough for him to get a full view of your dripping sex. The tongue was back as it was his turn to tease you. Gliding along your inner thighs, not touching an inch of your cunt. You whined at how close he was. You tried to move your thighs to get him where you wanted but to no avail.

“Please…” You swallowed, heaving at the lack of touch. “Don’t tease…”

A guttural growl resonated in the room, which made you quiver even more. “You're so pretty when you beg.”

His tongue was heaven. Taking turns licking at your sensitive bud, thrusting in and out of your hole. Slurping sounds letting you know how much he loved tasting your cunt. You weren't sure if digging your hands into his covered head was a good idea so your hands fisted the pillows. Head back and unable to control your sounds of pleasure.

“Miguel…oh my…” You felt that familiar sensation rise in your stomach. Not stopping as he continued to please you. And you accepted it, climaxing for him. This was different from your normal Miguel. While he did make you see stars, this one was determined to make you see God. The way he didn’t stop after you came for him, eating your pussy like a starved man. When you tried to have the strength to pull away, his hand placed flat on your stomach. Overstimulation crept in as you shook under his hold. Thank goodness he pulled away, showing you his mouth glistening in the moonlight.

“We need you. Now.”

Your eyes widened when seeing his cock on full display. Miguel was big. Very big. Cock enlarged, veiny, pre cum beading around the tip. He was going to kill you if he put that thing inside.

“Where?” You gulped, pushing back your rising fear.

Miguel sat back against the headboard and settled you into his lap. Your back lay against his chest, staring at the gigantic cock. He grabbed a hold of your thighs, lifting and spreading you as wide as he could. You bit your lip as his dick slid against your sex, coating himself in your arousal. You couldn't do much in this position. Besides lie back and take it.

You shook as he entered you. Arms around his neck and digging into them as you sank down. Your mouth gaped, but nothing came out.

“Come on.” Miguel pushed, his own voice coming out a little tense. “You can take more…”

You clawed at his neck, sinking down further. It was to the point where there was a slight bulge in your belly. Which has never happened before. Once he bottomed out, he gave you time to adjust. You knew Miguel was being gentle, his arm muscles tense as he didn’t want to hurt you. You nodded when you were ready and he took control. He slid you all the way up, only leaving the tip of his cock inside before thrusting up into you.

He was massive. Easily filling you up while he pumped inside. Tears brimmed in your eyes. There was no coherent thought in your mind. With each intoxicating thrust, you couldn’t think. All you wanted was for him to keep going. To use you like this as long as he wanted.

Your eyes rolled back when his cock hit a perfect spot. Not feeling any of your lower body. “M-Mig…”

“We have you. Pretty little thing…” His face snuggled against your head, still maintaining the hard and sharp thrusts. Miguel’s suit made a tendril, slithering over to you to give more attention to your aching clit. You gasped at the sudden sensation. The familiar burning of your release was quickly rising again into something more. You struggled in Miguel’s hold, wanting to move away and escape your impending doom.

“Don’t…You’re gonna make me…” You whined, frantic breaths escaping.

“We want you to do it.”

There was no room for negotiation. Between the exhilarating way his cock stretched you and the advance on your clit, you were going to explode. You cried for your husband while soaking his cock with your fluids. Tightening around him for his seed. Aching to have him breed you. Miguel’s grunts turned into growls. Grating noises that shook the entire room. His thrusts were rough as now he was chasing his original goal. To pump his cum into you.

You didn’t move, watching your husband desperately paint you inside. There were one, two, three more thrusts before he let out a roar. His seed filled you up perfectly. It was so much that it was leaking out, even as Miguel tried to thrust more in. You didn't know what else to do if you didn’t get pregnant by this.

Once Miguel had his fill, he slipped out, placing you to the side. His face was back as he peppered your own with soft kisses.

“You okay?” You hummed, your throat a little sore. He held you close in a protective way, not wanting to let go for a moment. “Hopefully this works.”

“If it doesn’t…” You struggled to say with your raspy voice, “you’re getting rid of that thing.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o hara x reader #slushycoookie writes

2K notes · View notes

lost-and-ephemeral · 4 months

Note

Could you please do LDS boys +

Caleb reacting to reader being injured/severely injured?<3

HCs: You're Injured (ft. main trio + Caleb)

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader, Caleb x reader (seperate)

Tags: hurt/comfort, reader is injured but won't die

A/N: Thanks for your request! First time writing for Caleb, yay. Sorry if it isn't good enough, I'm not feeling so good since morning.

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-

Caleb

"Hold on, pip-squeak, I'm right here."

Your exhausted body, covered in wounds from the battle with Wanderer, was ready to collapse to the ground if Caleb hadn't caught you in time.

He knew how dangerous your job was, but that didn't make him any less worried.

You protected him but got hurt in the process.

He's frustrated and angry because there's no way he could've protected you in that situation.

And Caleb just hates this feeling, but trying to stay calm for your sake. His emotions could only make everything worse.

"Sometimes even big girls need someone else's help. Right? And I'm here for you."

Concern was written all over his face, he couldn't hide it even if he really tried. The last thing he wanted was to see you hurt, especially like this.

He was supposed to be your main protector back then. But now things have changed.

You had really grown a lot, not just physically, but mentally too.

It was just hard to accept you're no longer a little girl.

Yes, you are strong and mature. But Caleb kept holding you like you were the most fragile being in the world.

He will give you first aid as quickly as he can, while calling an ambulance. Caleb is not the kind of person who would risk your life trying to handle this situation on his own.

Definitely going to the hospital with you while holding your hand and talking to you. He'll be around as long as it takes.

Probably will fall asleep on the chair near your hospital bed.

No doubt he'll continue to look after you like he did when you both were younger.

Rafayel

"No, no, no. Don't even think about leaving me like this!"

Maybe sometimes Rafayel was overly dramatic, but he's actually afraid of losing you again.

When he saw that you were injured after not-so-pleasant encounter with Wanderers, his facade of self-confidence instantly cracked.

Rafayel started panicking and it was clear from the look on his face as he crouched beside you, seeing how you trying to cover the wound by your bloody hands.

Not again. No.

All these years he had to watch you die over and over again, losing all memories of him.

Rafayel instantly began to examine your wounds, holding you close. He didn't care if his perfectly white shirt will be covered in blood as well.

He needed to be sure you won't die this time.

And his playful attitude is gone completely.

"Don't you dare to die on me, you hear? I won't forgive you. Ever. Promise me. Promise me you won't die."

He tried to remain calm and ignore the suffocating feeling of anxiety that has been slowly rising in his chest. But he couldn't.

Will do everything to stop the bleeding while help is on it's way. You can feel his hands trembling.

He'd better die for you himself, not vice versa.

I swear, this man is gonna get the whole hospital on alert. Nurses and doctors can be mad at him as much as they want. It doesn't matter to him.

Rafayel won't rest and eat properly until you get better. He just physically can't.

"Don't scare me like this ever again, please."

Xavier

"I failed you."

You accidentaly got injured during your mission. And poor Xavier decided it was totally his fault.

You both found yourself surrounded by enemies and before he could even react, one of them attacked you, leaving a deep wound on your side.

Needless to say, in the next couple of seconds all Wanderers were completely destroyed, and Xavier was fully focused on you.

This isn't the first time you've been injured during a mission. But each time Xavier is as worried as always.

Especially when your injuries are so severe.

Will administer first aid on the spot, even the bare minimum, before carrying you to safety.

With Wanderers around, it's not going to be easy to get you out of this dangerous zone. So Xavier needs to stabilize you a little at first.

"I won't let you get hurt again. I promise."

He is already experienced in these situations, so he's able to keep his emotions under control. But that doesn't mean that deep inside he isn't worried sick about you.

Will be looking for anything to treat your wound and avoid infection.

Guilt will slowly eat him up from the inside no matter what. He had to protect you, but he failed to do so.

Even if you assure him it's just an accident, Xavier just shakes his head in response.

As soon as you can get out, he'll take you to the hospital. It is unlikely that his skills will be enough to make your wound heal properly.

Better safe than sorry.

He still has a lot of work to do, but he'll come to you whenever he has a spare minute.

Will probably act like a guilty puppy for a long time.

Zayne

"You're constantly putting yourself in danger."

Zayne has a hard time showing his feelings openly, especially when it comes to you, so it's no surprise that his display of concern felt like he was scolding you.

But in reality he's really, really worried about you every time.

He knew right away that you were in the hospital after another accident.

And as soon as Zayne had some time off between surgeries, he came to you.

Looking at you in the hospital bed, he felt his heart ache.

While he was desperately searching for a cure for your heart, you kept getting hurt again and again.

Even when you smiled, like if trying to reassure him everything's fine, Zayne only sighed and shook his head. You have no idea how hard it was to see you hurt and vulnerable like this.

He's already been informed of the severity of your wounds and how much blood you've lost.

And he could've lost you.

But Zayne can't let his emotions take over. There are still a few more difficult surgeries ahead where he cannot afford to make a mistake.

And if he starts panicking right in front of you, it's not going to speed up the healing process.

"I'd be happy if you took a more responsible approach to your health. Then I wouldn't have to be so worried."

He moved his chair closer to your bed and sat in silence for a while, squeezing your hand.

Zayne will stay around as long as his job lets him.

Don't be surprised to find candies or plushies you wanted on your nightstand.

You can ask him about these little gifts.

And watch carefully as a faint smile appears on his lips.

"Usually only children get so excited about toys. So it turns out you're not that far from being a child?"

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader

1K notes · View notes

frogchiro · 9 months

Note

Omg the gladiator ghost got me thinking about him winning a fight and cutting off his opponent’s head and holding it out towards reader’s direction BUT LIKE in a “cat bringing its human prey as a gift” kind of way” to show off his prowess and not intending this gesture to be threatening 😭 and bbygirl ghost not realizing he might be spooking reader a bit !

Just him starting to show off hoping reader will see him at the coliseum got me acting unwise 😭

He definitely would pull this! Gladiator Ghost is a formidable and fearsome warrior who doesn't fear anything and the moment he notices his favorite little lady sitting in one one of the boxes reserved for nobility in the coliseum like the perfect flower she is, he immediately gets the urge to show off as much as he can, his prowess and how strong and powerful he is!

You always flush and wave your embroidered fan a little faster, to the great amusement of other young ladies, when you see the gladiator's broad and bulky body glistening with sweat and you swear to the gods above that you always catch Ghost looking at you through the opening in his helmet.

One such instance was memorable in particular when Ghost got a little 'too much' into the fight, not to mention he was horny and frustrated because he couldn't get the image of you soft, plump body out of his mind but due to privacy reasons (or rather lack of it) he couldn't exactly jerk off in the barracks so now he was hormonal and pent up :(( The one good thing was that you were sitting perfectly poised next to your lady and watched attentively as he fought twice as hard for you to see but on the other hand it meant he also got more erratic and brutal, his primal instincts telling him to show off his prowess in battle and strength, to show that he'd be the perfect material for a partner and fathering your offspring-that got him a little too heated and before he and everyone else knew it, he sliced his opponent's head clean off and Ghost was grabbing it and marching towards the box where you sat to show it off :((

What he didn't expect and didn't intend at all was for you to get quite a bit frightened at the brutal and bloody display, and as much as the sight of Ghost covered in sweat and blood was appealing, the severed off head was not and now the gladiator was angryat himself that he upset you :((

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #gladiator au #gladiator!ghost #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader

2K notes · View notes

alwaysshallow · 5 months

Note

Isa baby please can we have ghost be told NO for some work stuff by higher ranked! Reader and him to be like

🤪🤪 why does this make me horny 🤪🤪

You’re mad as hell.

You should say something to him after ordering him to go to your office, you know it. You should address all the things that irritate you right now, but you physically can’t bring yourself to it—not when your desire is to bite into his throat. It’s not leader-ish, it’s not you since you never scream at your team. Yet, you have to clench your fists, so they won’t land on his pretty face.

“Won’t you even look at me?” he asks, and somehow it makes you even more mad at him. A low laugh escapes your mouth, as you shake your head with disbelief. His audacity is fucking insane.

As you look up at him, you can’t help but notice the way he just smirks under that simple balaclava he has. It’s almost arrogant in a way, like he’s completely unfazed by your emotions and what he did.

"You disobeyed my orders," you speak up, slowly, deliberately—it’s the only way of speaking that won’t have you screaming at him. “Then, you proceed to lead the entire team under your command, even if I told you otherwise.”

His brown eyes harden a little, but he’s not less amused, as he takes a step forward in your direction. "I did what I thought fit for the situation," Simon says. Riley’s tone is insistent, not leaving a pole in a discussion; a great leader trait, you'd normally think of it.

But right now, this tone makes you furious because he’s not the leader. He’s someone that should obey, someone that shouldn’t even question your choices on the battlefield since you are the one giving orders. Not him.

“Right. Completely putting people at risk, instead of backing out despite we had everything,” you grit through your teeth. The next words you want to say are tough, so you clean your throat and take a deep breath before actually saying them. “You’re off the mission.”

The atmosphere between you two can be cut with the knife. Not only he doesn’t speak to you for a good minute, but he looks at you with a confused look in his eyes. “What the fuck?”

Of course he’d react this way, you think. Nothing new, nothing surprising—at least not with Simon Riley. “I can’t have you sabotaging my mission because you did something that fit the situation.”

“Sabotaging your mission,” he laughs. You lean against the wall when he takes another few steps in your direction, and you tilt your head at him for a better view. “It fits the situation because ‘m savin’ your bloody ass, colonel.”

“I don’t remember asking for it.” You furrow your eyebrows, trying to calm down. It’s hard enough with being mad at him, but even harder when he's chest to chest proximity, towering over you.

“You don’t have to ask. I’ll do it anyway, whether you want it or not.” He shrugs; for a moment, your words die in your throat.

Whether you want it or not.

You shouldn’t feel so hot and bothered right now. Yet, you can’t really help it, as he leans down to your eye level, so you don’t have to have your chin up anymore.

“Should take you off missions with me, then?” you ask. It’s obvious that the question startles him a bit, as he scoffs.

“You can’t do that, love. Wouldn’t do you any good, would it?”

“As far as I remember, I call the shots. Not you, so I’d be careful.”

He hums, completely ignoring the slight warning in your words; his eyes drop to your lips, like he doesn’t care about anything you said before. “I want to kiss you.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the heat radiating all over your face. “I could have you suspended for insubordination right here, right now, lieutenant, and you think about—”

You don’t get to finish that sentence, as he pulls his balaclava a little over his nose and he pushes his lips into yours. Forceful kiss at first, evolves into the mutual battle of domination; maybe it’s the rank type of thing considering how eagerly you fight, but you can’t do it for long. Not when his hands lands on your hips and your back hits the wall

“I don’t think,” he pants out, his lips still against yours, “that you get how I care about you. You want to piss me off and send me off the mission? Do it. But I’ll be here anyway.”

“I could call the general on you,” you squeak weakly, as he picks you up and sits you on your desk.

“Then fuckin’ do it,” he growls, looking into your eyes—you do not look away, under any circumstances. It would only grow his ego bigger. “No one could protect you like I do. I’m on your command and you like it.”

The evident cockiness in his voice has you trembling, not to mention the lips on your cleavage, as he kisses the skin here. “On my command? You’d do whatever I want you to do?”

He smirks, lazily. “Isn’t that what I just said, love?”

You bite your lip more; it’s gonna be a bloody mess here in a minute, but you can’t care less right now. “Take off the mask,” you say. He tilts his head like a puppy, confused, as his back straightens. “You’re not fucking with me with this thing on.”

And oh, how quickly he throws his balaclava behind him, not even caring about where it lands. It's just your words that get him, the way you're so sure when you say it. It doesn't take him long to get rid of your pants either, kneeling right in front of you.

"'m gonna take," he murmurs to your thigh, gnawing at the skin, "such a good care of you, love. Gonna make this pussy all mine."

It takes one swipe of his tongue to know that he's right.

#exilesanswers #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #higher!ranked reader x ghost #cod x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw3 #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #x reader #call of duty #call of duty imagine #simon riley headcannons #simon riley smut

1K notes · View notes

sugurism · 2 months

Note

ah your red /green flag post was really good. How about doing the type of person they are most likely to be attracted to..and if they would fall first or harder?

FALLING DOWN. ୨ৎ jjk men: their type of person + fell first, or fell harder?ㅤheadcanons

featuring ♰ㅤmultiple. (choso, higuruma, megumi, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna, toge, toji, yuji, yuta)

warning(s)! ♰ㅤNO PRONOUNS AND ANATOMY FOR READER. SFW (?) — toxic behavior ! possession ! some are delusional + yandere implied ! again, very much made based on personal opinions + i tried to write the characters off as canon as possible, but my favoritism will probably show ! sukuna (he's a warning of his own) ! violence + blood + death (mentions) ! cannibalism (mentions) ! obsession and possession ! not really all dark content but i will tag as so just to be sure, sukuna's part is insane ! mentions about marriage ! sadomasochism ! suggestive (sexual ideas about you) !

author’s note ♱ㅤthank you for everyone who's enjoying the red / beige / green flag post! you're all so sweet, it made my day, truly. im so happy, and this suggestion was so fun, anon. a small reminder so no one gets lost, though — please, read my rules before interacting. i don't take requests, but i consider suggestions. wrote this because i enjoyed the idea! it's not good, though. wrote this in a hurry and im currently working on other WIPs. don't know if i liked the result, tbh.

୨୧ CHOSO KAMO — attracted to someone's soul. fell harder.

the type of people choso likes is honestly pretty hard to describe. he is a romantic by nature, even if he is not aware of it. he really likes someone willing to cooperate with him and his family. anyone with an honest desire to protect him and his family and allow themselves to be protected as well.

with a body that was given to him (a dead body, even), he cares very little about physical appearance. a large part of him seeks to understand the essence of those he loves so that he can understand them without saying a word.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was after a bloody battle. he was covered in blood and injuries while using his body's natural regeneration to recover. however, you forgot that ── you forgot his strength, you forgot his ability. you saw him as human as yourself, and by extension, fragile. bruised. mortal.

“choso! are you okay?” your warm hand touches his face, and choso's stomach twists at the thought of your delicate, perfect hands getting dirty because of his rotten blood. the blood of a cursed creature, neither human nor curse. and the way you look at him now: with affection, care. with the desire to want to protect him, as he would like to protect you.

and at this moment, he knows. what he feels is love. he feels like he's been struck by lightning, electrified to the last cell in his body. “y──yes. of course.”

god, he needs to marry you. now.

୨୧ HIROMI HIGURUMA — attracted to an opposed strength. fell first.

this is personally inspired by my view of higuruma (and inspired by oc), but it would be an amazing cliché if he fell in love with a prosecutor. it is not exactly a person, but rather a dynamic. hiromi's type of person is someone who can argue their convictions and has the determination to defend their point of view. the kind of person who could get him back on track. someone who would argue back if he were wrong.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was a very simple day. nothing unusual. the weather a little dark, a late afternoon full of heavy clouds threatening to pour their rain on him and you. when you looked at him and smirked after “winning” an argument, he felt his own heart skip a beat in a way he never thought it could before.

he wonders if you can notice. it's obvious, how could you not? how could he not notice it earlier, he wonders. for some reason, the idea makes hiromi flinch. his mouth opens to retort, but he gives up. will saying something make it obvious how much he is in love with you? he should wait before saying something. he can do that. he can wait and wonder, will someday, your heart jump like his, when he is around you?

୨୧ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO — attracted to chaos. fell harder.

this may sound ironic, but considering megumi's deranged nature during fights requires equal and opposite strength. aka, someone as passionate and convinced as himself. someone who will turn and smile at him with blood on their hands as everything explode around you two.

the moment he realized he was in love with you was during a fight against a curse. a simple exorcism, in theory, but one where a creature suddenly appeared and was about to make him lunch. until its interruption, of course. shouting as you annihilated a curse so far from his level just to protect him ── a determination and raw fire in his eyes. it made you look like you could do anything, even kill gods.

it made his mouth go dry and his cheeks grow red. and megumi knew, it wasn't from adrenaline. it was something much, much stronger.

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI — attracted to calmness and stability. fell harder.

nanami already has a very chaotic presence in his life. satoru gojo's ironic giggles and crude jokes are terrifying. his senpai's irreverent behavior will haunt kento until the day he dies. therefore, nothing fairer than a partner who is calm, but not in the way he is calm ── cold, slightly arrogant, semi-distant from everything that is real. calm as water, in a serene and subtle, loving way. someone to share his burdens and allow himself to be vulnerable with.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was — weird. stress gets to even the toughest of men, and someone under as much pressure as nanami, for all his composure, is still susceptible to it. the smallest things can make a stressed salaryman's day hell, like today.

nothing worked. absolutely everything backfired in the worst way possible. he spilled coffee on his jacket, had to ask for another one, where the barista got his order wrong, and in the end, he was almost late to start his work schedule. as he passed you through the jujutsu high campus (in order to avoid that tall, white ghost that terrifies his underclassmen to this day), you made him stop.

being an assistant teacher isn't exactly an easy job, considering the vast array of (potentially problematic) students that inhabit jujutsu schools. but you are always able to get them all on track without using a drop of harshness. there's a firmness to its sweetness, sure, but it's not intimidating. the brats even apologize to you honestly when they make mistakes.

when you see him, you wave gently and smile. and that smile makes kento exhale very slowly. the stress escaping him as if drained away. not entirely, but it was something. and nanami has a talent for spotting things that seem insignificant, but actually aren't.

oh, your smile. your smile always does this to him.

୨୧ SATORU GOJO — attracted to gentleness and honesty. fell first.

despite all the compliments satoru receives, he is completely sure that ninety-five percent of them are not at all sincere. it's like a poorly done bribe in an attempt to get the favor or appreciation of the strongest, because he will always be that. first the strongest sorcerer, then satoru. first a title and then a person. it's just how things work, there's no point complaining about them.

but a person who can honestly see him as a human being first and as who he is, beyond his title. a trustworthy and caring person, someone he can genuinely let his walls down with without it being a decision he regrets later.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was on the verge of death. well, not at the brink of his death, but at yours. so many things could happen if he wasn't around, and they did. a fight with a curse user, and your obvious victory, but at what price? now he was waiting at the hospital anxiously, his fingers drumming the arm of the chair as he watched each person pass by.

every doctor, every nurse, every one of those miraculous people who could save your life. every second melted into its own agonizing torture, and satoru couldn't understand why. why was it so hard to calm down? he has been here before, so many times, with other friends in their deathbeds. it was agonizing all the same, but somehow, now it seemed worse.

when they finally said he could enter, satoru wasted no time. walking through the door and lowering her sunglasses towards him. you and your bruised body, lying on the bed and slowly turning to look at him. smiling through the pain, and his lips parting to murmur. “’toru. you're here.”

he sat down in the nearby chair and chuckled slightly, feeling his worries disappear. your voice, so gentle and truthful. so happy to see him — a friend, someone dear. not the strongest sorcerer, but him. “yeah. of course, i am.”

୨୧ SUGURU GETO. — attracted to passion. fell harder.

passion is one of the determining driving forces that makes humanity the sinister creatures that they are. passion for something can be good, like artists who created revolutionary works and opened the world's eyes to their problems. or, it can be terrible, as in geto's case: his passion is the cult and his new world.

he would like someone who is as passionate about something as he is about this philosophy itself. bonus points if the passion in question is the philosophy itself, but any number of other things might be acceptable.

it's difficult to describe a moment where suguru realizes he's in love with you, without defining a passion of yours. maybe it's a hobby like art, or maybe it's caring for a pet. it's necessary context, but whatever it is, he realizes your determination and ends up completely falling in love with it. with you.

be it watching you smiling while finishing a painting, petting your cat proudly, or anything that reveals you're determined to stick to your own principles. like he will stick to his.

୨୧ SUKUNA RYOMEN. — attracted to violence. fell harder.

i saw a post once, talking about how a sukuna's ideal type (assuming he had one) really is someone who wants him dead. it's hard to explain it, but he's definitely attracted to the more disturbing aspects of a person. in particular, a taste for violence and independence.

however, he might not like it so much if this independence became a challenge. he is willing to allow very extensive freedom to any human who interests him ── within certain limits. a king must not allow the absolute insubordination of those beneath him, after all.

he wants someone raw, and visceral. bonus points if there is a possibility that he will mentally destroy you and turn you into some kind of obedient pet. someone who was not made to be his, but could become, if he shaped you to be his and only his. don't kings enjoy having pets? he should, as well.

the moment he realizes he is in love with you is definitely a bloody scenario. you have just ripped apart a curse with your bare hands. watching you like a hawk, he sees you — covered in purple blood and panting. sukuna wonders if you would show this same voracity in other situations.

if he took you to bed, would you agree happily, spreading your legs at him and laying down obediently for him to do as he pleases? or perhaps you would try to stab him, or open his chest with your bare hands, as you did with that inferior little creature? ripping his heart out, looking him in the eyes while you take a bite of it.

he licks his lips at the thought.

୨୧ TOGE INUMAKI — attracted to spontaneous and joy. fell first.

toge does not have the ability to communicate in words normally, due to his technique's nature. he is fortunate to have access to other means of communication ── cellphones, notepads, even sign language. but something that attracts him is the perspective of someone who understands him well, and who has the energy to speak for him.

the moment he realizes he is in love with you is during a conversation. he, you and his friends are all walking and gathered together, discussing casual things. even with the hectic routine that you all have, it is very important to have these moments where you can act like normal people and not just wizards (he will bring sweets for panda, to make up for him not being able to come).

maki turns around, asking what he wants to eat. toge considers for a few moments. he honestly doesn't feel hungry tonight, but before he can respond in his ingredient language, you look at him for a second and help him communicate.

“hey, wait! i don’t think he’s hungry. right, toge?” he nods, a little surprised that you can understand before he even says anything. and while the sounds of chatter disappear around him, he focuses on you and your face. you, who always pays attention to him. you, who understands him.

୨୧ TOJI FUSHIGURO — attracted to a mix of chaotic and calmness. fell harder.

the loss of mamaguro affected toji in indescribable ways. a man should never be forced to bury the love of his life, but that's what happened. as a result, he returned to bad habits and destroyed his own life. so, his type ends up being something very difficult to define. i think he would still like someone like mamaguro, but not completely. the type of person who can be chaotic as well as calm. someone who doesn't necessarily fix him again, but someone with whom he can see companionship and honesty. kind of like partners in crime.

of course he appreciates your kindness, but he really lacks showing it back. a part of him stays awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering why you're so good to him — when toji is fully aware he's not good enough for you. generally, he wouldn't mind. he moves from woman to woman, relationship to relationship, simply for money. why is he caring now?

the moment he realized he was in love with you was actually during an argument. toji is someone who is extremely difficult to deal with because of his relaxed and self-serving nature ── plus, he purposely acts annoying during fights, but you never freak out. well, today you freaked out. and while you're swearing at him from the rooftops and pointing accusingly, he can only stop and feel himself melting. for some reason.

it doesn't make sense, of course it doesn't make sense. but your calmness contrasted by such abrasive anger is extremely attractive. it's more than attractive. he feels like gasoline and you feel like a match. and god, how he wants to burn.

୨୧ YUJI ITADORI — attracted to gentleness, honesty, and pride. fell harder.

yuji's destiny has always been marred by constant and untimely misfortunes. he loses friends and fights, he fails in moments where he should win, and the destruction upon him is both physical and mental. but there is hope. a kind person who genuinely understands him and can help him take the reins or share the burden when it all gets a bit too much. someone who watches bad movies with him and laughs at the terrible jokes he makes. someone who is willing to help him forget the horrors of the world for five minutes, or be rational when he is emotional.

the moment he realizes he's in love with you is when he leaves the cinema. a (very disgusting) sequel to his favorite horror film series just came out, and you were the only person who agreed to watch it with him. as he excitedly searches the bottom of the popcorn bucket for some leftovers, he notices you looking at him. "what?" he mumbles, crunching on the popcorn.

you laugh lightly, reaching out to wipe his crumb-covered cheek. “yuji, your face is all dirty! wait, i’ll get a napkin.” that little contact of your palm with his cheek is── scorching. there is no other way to describe it. the sensation is so sudden that as you move away to grab a napkin, he lets the practically empty bucket fall to the floor.

there was so much tenderness in your stare, so much care and appreaciation. even if it wasn't your cup of tea, even if the movie would be a horrible set-up for a date, was this a date? even with all that, you— enjoyed it. enjoyed spending time with him, being with him, caring for him.

oh god. he is so in love.

୨୧ YUTA OKKOTSU — attracted to roughness and sincerity. fell first.

honestly, yuta's type can be a mean person. he wouldn't admit it, because he doesn't know how to say it without sounding almost like a masochist, but someone dragging him around by the collar while he smiles like an obedient dog is a pretty attractive prospect. he feels that he could cooperate very well with someone who is the very opposite of him ── as strange as it may seem. his type of person isn't really specific, he kind of just wants the basics: honesty, loyalty, affection. but if he could choose? someone more raw and honest, for sure. someone who would set the world on fire.

the moment he realized he was in love with you was in a strange and awkward situation. after an argument with one of his friends, you were just going to turn around and walk away at a steady pace. he doesn't like conflict, guys ── it's very stressful and makes yuta extremely anxious ── so his reaction is to just kind of stand there looking like an idiot. but you grab him by the arm and pull him away. “don't just stand there, yuta. let's go.”

“y—yes. of course.”

despite this, he knows you wouldn't be rude to him, or wouldn't be rude without a good reason. still, the almost angry tone in your voice and the authority you exude. even though he knew that in terms of power levels he would be stronger? totally attractive. he can see himself following you back and forth and a kind of dynamic that works like that. kinder and somewhat socially anxious boyfriend, and you, a scorching flame that consumes everything around you.

he kinda wants to be consumed, anyway.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. thank you for reading! <3ㅤㅤthis was not proofread.

954 notes · View notes

galacticgraffiti · 7 months

Text

✿⋅ Oh, to be Alone with You ⋅✿

NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI

Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2.6k Descriptors: I try my best to write inclusively. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is mentioned in her physicality but not described in detail. If anything escaped me, please let me know! Sorry I couldn't make this more gender neutral, but since this fic is a gift to @naariel I thought I'd use her pronouns. Warnings: dirty daydreams, yearning, lusting after someone, male masturbation, dirty talk, fantasy of PiV sex within the daydream, bath sex, this is written from Halsin's POV

⋆⋅ Inspired by this insane artwork by @naariel ⋅⋆

Author's note: I've been pondering, rotating and marinating this artwork in my mind for WEEKS. It haunts me in the best possible way and I am so happy Naariel gave me permission to reference her art! If you are not already following her, you definitely should - her skill and talent are infinite.

Masterlist ⋆ If you prefer AO3

───── ⋆⋅✿⋅⋆ ─────

Oh, to be Alone with You

Halsin sighs when he finally sits down, long limbs sprawling on the too-small chair that can barely contain him.

Chairs. What superfluous oddities, where a big tree stump might have sufficed. If one has to make them at all, why not at least make them comfortable? Why not sit in the meadows, why not find a place to lay where the sun has warmed a rock that has been washed and polished by the rain? But no, the rules of the city demand he be contained within four walls instead of roaming free, they demand he bathe in a wooden tub instead of out in the wilds, they demand he wear clothes and be polite to people even as they trample the Oak Father’s creations beneath their boots without even stopping to look and enjoy nature’s gifts.

Halsin shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the oncoming headache. It has been a long day and he is so tired. A long week. A long few weeks, if he is being honest with himself. In all these centuries, times have been- well- rough, to say the least. But whatever haunts the Sword Coast now… it’s different. Bigger than the invasions of Goblins across the land, bigger than the Shadow druids, bigger even than the Shadow Curse that has occupied Halsin’s every waking hour for nigh on one hundred years.

At least, Thaniel and Oliver have been reunited, some life returning to the lands as it always should have been. A victory, chased for so long, tasting sweet only for a moment before the stale urgency of the matter at hand had seeped back into Halsin’s mind: Mindflayers infecting innocents, magic-infused tadpoles, an Elder Brain… There are too many battles to be fought, and not one of them to be won.

Halsin presses his lips together and tries to banish the dark thoughts from his mind. There are some good things that have come out of this: They have not lost a fight yet, and his newfound companions are… stimulating, to say the least. Fighting alongside them has been a joy and a privilege - watching their blades sear, their magic erupt, their arrows pierce their targets as the bear Halsin rips through flesh and bone. The fighting is necessary, and his companions are more skilled than he could have ever wished for. This day may have been hard, but it was successful nonetheless, and now he is here, freshly bathed and ready to find some rest for the night. If only it could be under the stars, far outside the city walls, he would almost call himself happy. Instead, he must bed down alone, encased by too many walls and a too-small bed frame.

Halsin misses the smell of grass that has not been trampled by hundreds of boot-clad feet, he misses the feeling of bark against his fur, he misses his wildshape and trodding through calm forests instead of bloodied battlefields. He misses air that is crisp and clean and doesn't smell of artificially molten metals. He misses the Grove, he misses Thaniel and he misses the woods. The city has been forsaken by Silvanus, and even if this place is a small oasis of nature, it is not the same as being out among the Oak Father’s creations.

He cracks his neck, his hair tickling his collarbones. Halsin curses quietly to himself, pushing a curl behind his ear. He needs to cut his hair - it’s getting too long. And he needs to braid it again, his plaits are all out of sorts. It might be a hassle to do it without a mirror- but maybe he could ask-

No.

Shaking his head as if to will the thought away, he slumps into the discomfort of the chair a little more.

No, he shouldn't ask her anything. Nothing that would involve her hands on him, at least. Certainly not her fingers buried in his hair, tugging softly, her voice gently commanding that he tilt his head a different way. He can’t ask for that. It would only lead to him asking for more:

More of her hands on him, more of her skin against his, more than innocent touches and whispered goodnights across the campfire. He would ask for everything: To bury himself inside her until the world fades away, to devour her until she is slick with sweat from the pleasure he brings her. To be the keeper of her heart, just as he yearns for her to be the keeper of his.

Halsin can feel the familiar tightness in his back as the golden shimmer of his wildshape travels up to his shoulder blades. One thought of her, and already the bear stirs.

He remembers everything that happened today, even as he tries so hard to think of something else:

He remembers the way she smells, of sweet berries, blood and leather. He remembers her looking up at him, as her fingers clutch her weapon tightly. He remembers the fire in her eyes after the slaughter, the glow in her cheeks when she turned around to look at him and found only the bear. He remembers how she smiled at him, even after all that violence, a smile like the sinking sun, bloodied and red, but more beautiful than he could ever have dreamed up.

And as the day progressed: Her arm bumping into his, her head tilting up when she asked him a question and wanted to read his expression. How her hands slipped around him to reach for some food at the campfire earlier when they rested. Her sweet breath on his face and a mumbled excuse when she walked into him, still drowsy with sleep. And all Halsin wanted to do was pull her into his lap and bury his nose in the crook of her neck and forget about the world, forget about everyone watching, and have her, right then, in that moment. Have her all to himself, make her his very own. To feel her around him, to show her the depth of his affection, the desperation of his desire, the magnitude of his commitment.

All he wanted in that moment - all he still wants - is to touch her, to feel her in ways that he cannot ask for because he is scared she will not want the same thing he does. Halsin wants to lick the sweat off her skin, he wants to be buried between her thighs whenever they can steal away, even for a few minutes, he wants her taste on his tongue when he fights, and to wrap himself around her when they sleep.

The force of his own thoughts makes Halsin shudder, glowing desire stirring deep in his belly.

Her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her skin: How soft she would be against him. How wonderful to hear her voice break when she cries out for him, how she would taste if he could lick her off his fingers, the honey of her thighs, the salt of her sweat. He would give anything to know the expression on her face when she is lost to mindless bliss- he would give everything to know that he is the cause of it.

A low moan escapes his throat then, and Halsin presses his lips together when his mind returns from memory and sweet imagination to this house in the midst of a bustling city. This is not nature, where he can do what pleases him when it pleases him. No, the city - ‘civilisation’ as they call it - comes with rules, expectations, limitations.

He is in someone else’s home, exhausted from the day, the blood barely washed off his skin. And yet, all he can think about is… her. All he can feel is the constriction of his clothing, the confinement of leather where he longs to be touched. He wants to shed like the bear sheds his fur after the winter, he wants to feel free again.

Halsin hums, breathing deeply, willing away the golden sparks of his wildshape that dance along his fingertips. He listens intently, fingers dancing across his thighs, drumming an impatient rhythm.

Nothing in the house stirs. Maybe they are all gone still, running their errands, finding bath houses, visiting old friends and merchants they used to know before they return here for a long night’s rest. Maybe Halsin can have a small pocket of time to himself. Time to dream himself away, to give in to the desire he has harboured for so long.

Maybe… he could use this opportunity to release some of that tension that has settled deep in his belly. Refocus his attention. Maybe it’ll be for the best- not to think of her constantly anymore, not of her smell, or the colour of her eyes, of the way her fingers linger on his for a moment too long whenever they touch, or how much he wished they could have bathed together when he sank into the tub earlier that night.

The city has many downsides, but baths are one of the few things to enjoy. Hot springs are wonderful, but few and far between. Nature provides: The bear does not mind the coldness of a stream in the woods, or the iciness of a mountain lake. But there is nothing like a steaming bath to help prevent the sore ache that settles in his bones after a fight.

If only it was acceptable to ask her if she would join him. If only it had been her hands washing dirt and grime and blood from his skin, brushing his hair, kneading tired muscles, her hands much smaller than his, but strong and determined. Loving.

Halsin lets his head fall back, spine cracking as he settles in the small, uncomfortable chair, spreading his legs to cup his hardening cock. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine it…

She glistens in the dim light, thin streams of water trickling down her skin when she emerges from the bath, her lashes stuck together as she beams at him.

“Mhh, we should have done this ages ago!”

“I could not agree more, my heart.” Halsin loves seeing her like this. She looks happy, like she has not a care in the world.

She crawls up into his lap, settling on him, her thighs bracketing his. Her hands run across his chest, lathering him in soap that smells of lavender and thyme. Halsin’s heart is beating in his throat when she leans in to kiss his collarbone, her lips soft, her hair smelling of smoke and flowers as it always does.

Desire surges inside him, crackling like lightning in his veins, and he sends the bear away, far away. This is a moment he wants for himself: Skin against skin, tongues exploring, hands intertwined. This is no place for fangs and claws, not tonight. Halsin unlaces his trousers with steady fingers, though even those few seconds seem unbearable to him. When his hand finally wraps around his cock, he breathes a sigh of relief, only to feel dissatisfied moments after. He wants her hands, her eyes on him, her voice dripping with lust. For now, his imagination will have to do.

He dreams himself back to the bath, thinking of all he could have had, if he had only had the courage to ask.

Her skin is burning hot against his, her fingers leave a flaming trail wherever she touches him.

“Is this alright, my love?” Her voice is full of concern and affection, as it always is when she asks about his comfort and well-being.

“More than alright.” Halsin’s breaths grow shaky when she moves her hips, shallowly grinding down against him. “Gods, I want to-”

“Mhhm?” There is a curious twinkle in her eye. “What is it you want? Tell me. I’m sure I could make your dreams come true.”

Halsin shifts when the wooden backing of the chair digs into his back as he bucks his hips, fucking into his hand that is wrapped around his cock - a poor substitution for what - for who - he really wants.

A growl rings out in the empty room when he closes his eyes and imagines her again.

Her thighs look so lovely, spread wide so he can fit between them. She smells of the bath salts and of herself, and her voice talks to him through the thick fog of his desire.

“I know what you want, don’t I, bear? I’ll take such good care of you if you let me. I’ll make sure you don’t even have to ask for it. I’ll let you taste me, whenever you want- wherever you want. I’ll help you focus- you can focus on me, can’t you? There you go…”

Halsin is panting, his hand moving faster.

She feels good, so good when she sinks down on him, wet with arousal and so willing to take him.

“You, little flower, are the jewel of nature’s creation,” he mumbles. “You are all I could ever want and more. I want to taste you on my tongue, always- for there to never be a day where I won’t know the way you drip for me- for you to never go a day without being satisfied, without feeling loved and cared for. Your happiness is all I want- your ecstasy all I desire. Let me take care of you.”

She moans, her head falling back as she starts to roll her hips, taking him deeper and deeper with each stroke.

“I’ll take care of you as you do of me,” she whispers. “I’ll make sure to provide for you all you could ever need or want. You give and give, let me give you everything I am in return. Be selfish, bear. Take what you want, swallow me whole, devour me without worrying whether it’s too much. I want you to. Mark me- make me yours. Tell the whole world I belong to you, whichever way you desire.”

Her movements are desperate now, her words only sighs and moans, breathless as she buries her head against his shoulder. Halsin inhales the scent of her hair, sinks into her words as the fog of lust that has settled on his brain grows thicker and heavier, until there is not a thought left on his mind but her.

“Halsin-” Gods, his name sounds so sweet off her tongue. “Halsin, I want you to fill me. Please- please, I want to feel full with you, today and every day you’ll fucking let me. I want to fight knowing you are still dripping down my thighs, I want to kiss you under the stars and know I’ll never be without you again.”

The curses that are falling from his lips are ungodly, but Halsin does not care. He is desperate now, mouth open as he calls her name and thinks of the words he wishes he could hear her say.

“Come for me, bear. Come inside me, lay claim to me as only you ever could- f-fuck- make me yours- please- Halsin, I’m yours, I’m yours and yours and yours, as long as you’ll have me- forever if you want to-”

With a cry of her name on his lips, Halsin gives in to pleasure and lets himself be overtaken by a wave of bliss. His thighs tremble as he spills over his hand, sticky warmth dripping from his fingers. He does not open his eyes. Not yet. He wants to stay in the fantasy just a moment longer.

“Halsin, I-”

His eyes open, blood rushing to his cheeks as he returns to the real world and finds her standing in the doorway.

I'm going fucking feral. Running into the woods hoping to find him there, who's with me -

@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @queen--kenobi @samspenandsword @rescuethewretched @pinkiemme @baba-fett @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @fanfiction-i-llike @voidinfernal @foxferret02 @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @perseny @margoisthemoon2 @shiiunn @saucyhedgehog @tonysoffice @pupshr00m @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @silly-gooseastarion @mila-bee @shit-i-say-throughout-the-day @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @aeryntheofficial @jekasha @gub @nogitsune-the @solarrexplosion @hexqueensupreme @unofficialavenger90 @frankiesghost @curtaincaramba

If you have signed up for my taglist and you are not on this list, I could not tag you. Check your settings and sign up again.

#bg3 #halsin #halsin x reader #in some capacity i suppose #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #halsin bg3 #nsft #halsin x f!reader #gala writes

1K notes · View notes

bi-writes · 1 month

Text

the knock at his door is a ferocious one. it rattles the hinges, shakes the doorway. it is not a kind knock. it is the knock of anger, of impending terror, of death at his door, but he knows that if he doesn't answer, he will be even more sorry. (ghoap x curvy!fem!reader, 18+, smidge of dark)

johnny isn't happy. he yanks the door open, glaring, knowing who is on the other side. his superior, his lieutenant, the fucking tart that started this whole thing in the first place, the bastard that stands a few inches too tall, is that what she sees in him, too tall, is that much bigger than me, the fucking--

"dinnae want t'talk to ye, ye fuckin'--"

"'f y'know wot's fuckin' good f'ya, you'll shut y'r fuckin' mouth," ghost snaps. his accent is thick and gravelly. he moves over the threshold, pushing johnny back, his eyes dulling over as he presses an accusing finger against johnny's chest. "y'r gonna pick up the bloody phone, 'n y'r gonna call 'er."

"she's a right--"

ghost hisses, a heady growl coming out roughly as he grips johnny around the throat and slams him against the nearest wall. the entirety of it shakes, and the pictures there nearly fall, and johnny chokes as he tries to scramble, but ghost is too strong, too rough, too overpowering. there is something behind his movements, some purpose, and it makes something acidic bubble in johnny's throat.

"don't you fuckin' dare finish that sentence," ghost snarls. "don't care wot it is y'think y'feel, do y'really wanna have tha' on your conscious, y'fuckin' bastard, yeah? want her t'know tha' is the last thing y'called her?"

johnny sputters. he's gasping for air, but it's hard, and his eyes water. even though johnny hates him, even though he loathes the man he used to admire, he knows ghost is right. his lip trembles. it wouldn't be right to say it, it wouldn't be right to call you anything other than what you are, and that is beautiful, bonnie, the stars in the sky and the water in the soil and the dream he always has but cannot remember but one he knows is all he wants and more.

"ye took 'er from me," johnny gasps. "took her from me, and she's all i've ever wanted..."

"took nothin' from ya. now call 'er," ghost growls. "pick up the phone, and y'call her. she's hysterical. 'n i won't 'av it."

"ye won't 'av it? fuck off with ye!"

ghost tilts his head to the side, using his forearm now and pinning johnny to the wall. they meet eyes, and even though johnny pulls a brave face, he is staring at a man who clawed his way out of his grave. a man that endured days of torture and inexplicable horror, that knew the taste of his own blood from another's. johnny is strong-willed, but this is a battle he will not win.

"won't tell ya again," ghost mutters. "i mean tha'."

johnny's tired. he loathes. he hates. he feels sick. he wants to claw and kill and blow something up, but then ghost is letting him go, he's taking in full breaths, and there's a voice in his ear suddenly, an unfamiliar sound of a beautiful voice that he knows. she's crying.

"johnny? j-johnny, i-is that you?"

"mmmph," he coughs. "mmm..."

even riddled with sadness, you sound as pretty as always.

"johnny, i'm sorry," you whimper. he can picture your face, probably a gorgeous pout, tears gathering along your cheeks that normally are from the brunt of his cock, but now they're the proper response from your panic. "johnny, i'm...i'm so sorry--"

"'s..." he hums. "'s a'right, lovey. shhh. quiet."

"johnny, please--please come home, i-i...i can't stand this, i don't want to...i-i--"

"told ye to quiet," he murmurs. "quiet."

and you do, but he knows there's tears, he knows you're probably still there on the other side, your cries muffled into your hand. you probably still look so beautiful, probably sitting there in one of his jackets and nothing else, perched on the bed he shares with you and looking like an entire meal.

"ye lied to me, bonnie," johnny tuts, and ghost steps closer, into his space. watch it, his eyes say, and johnny glares. "why did ye lie?"

you whine, "i didn't know what to say...i...i just thought--"

"ye thought what?" johnny prods. "ye thought i would nae find out about it all? what did ye think, what the bloody fuckin' hell did ye--"

ghost walks forward, enough that johnny is pressed flat against the wall. ghost leans down, tilting his head, close enough that he feels the warmth of johnny's breath as they stare down each other.

"say y'love 'er, johnny," ghost mumbles in his ear. he comes closer, one thick thigh fitting between johnny's legs. "say it."

johnny swallows. "i love ye, bonnie."

a quiet whine, and then your soft voice, "i-i love you so much, johnny--"

"say y'want her, johnny," ghost encourages him, in that low voice that is starting to make johnny's head a little lighter.

"i miss ye," johnny whispers. "sorry for not having me head on right, love..." he hisses when ghost pinches him. "ahh--i want ye. want yer bonnie face...yer bonnie cunt...got to know it. got to know how much i want ye."

ghost shuts his eyes when he hears your breaths. desperate, a little emotional, that beautiful lilt that drew him in the first time.

"tell 'er ye want to eat 'er, johnny," ghost hums. "tell 'er she tastes like sweets." ghost comes closer, his pelvis against johnny's, and there is no space between them. johnny's blue eyes are bright, pupils dilated, and when ghost opens his eyes, they stare at each other, some kind of understanding that they have never had before.

they've been to the same place. they've seen the same eden. the love of the same woman, the taste of the same forbidden fruit, the kind of thing that men like them dream of having but give up for the sake of their sanity--

"want to eat ye, love..." johnny sighs, and his eyes flutter when ghost reaches up and smooths a gloved hand along his throat. his adam's apple bobs, he is so alive, and ghost tuts lowly as he speaks. "taste so good...think about it all the time...about getting under yer skirt," he sighs deeply when ghost's hand moves lower, against his chest, "cum so nice, bonnie, when ye sit on m'face..."

"j-johnny--" ghost grits his teeth when he hears you. pretty baby girl, probably squeezing your thick thighs together, maybe leaning over to show off your soft hips to no one in particular, tits pressed together because your hand is drifting low and circling against you because he knows you probably aren't wearing any fucking knickers, "anything for you, baby...you know i would, you know i'd do anything..."

"i know, my pretty," johnny coos. "will ye wait for me? will ye wait before ye get ahead of yerself, love? ye will, yer a good girl..."

"y-yes--" you whine. "y-yes, i'll wait for you...please come back...please--"

"should i bring back yer keeper?" johnny asks. blue eyes on dark ones, the look of a thousand words, the look of newness, of acceptance, of the power of two being so much greater than one.

two gloved fingers make their way down his throat. petting johnny's pink tongue, stuffing him full, reminding him of his place, where he truly is, where he belongs and where he is always meant to be. he relaxes his throat, and ghost snarls, satisfied, when johnny takes the girth of it easily. he touches the back of johnny's throat, and ghost's eyes flash when he hears your sweet voice on the other end.

"simon...i know you're there. be nice. or we won't get to play."

678 notes · View notes

quinzzelx · 26 days

Text

No need to decide

Azriel/Cassian/Rhysand x Fem! Reader

Summary: This is porn without plot. You drink with your friends and it turns into something heated.

Word Count: 6700

Warnings: Smut, 18+! Fouresome, DP, Oral fem and male receiving, Deep Throating, Slight Shadow Play, Overstimulation

A/N: Well- this was fun to write. I have a lot of other stuff coming up the next days. Several WIP's and Requests :) Hope you enjoy this filthy piece of my imagination. I haven't proofread it yet and this might be a little straight forward lol...

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand fixate their eyes on you with an intense fire, their stances exuding a raw, untamed power. "We've been looking for you! We were worried sick when you didn’t return," Azriel strides towards you and gently grips your face. "Don’t ever disappear like that again. I thought I lost you."

"I'm sorry, Az..." you sigh, meeting their concerned gazes. All of you are still bloodied from battle, dried blood clinging to your skin. "How about we let the evening be like the good old days? Just drinking and relaxing?" You pat Azriel on the shoulder and give Cassian and Rhys a soft smile. They all nod in agreement, the tension in their shoulders easing, although concern still lingers in their eyes.

"That sounds like a great idea. Let's go to the council room, we have some good wine stored there. I'll just quickly head up to my room and clean up. You all should too, you reek," you chuckle as you walk past them, heading up the stairs to your room. After a quick bath and changing into a silk pajama set, you return downstairs to find the three already sitting in the sitting area.

"I can see you already started without me," you tease, and their gazes immediately shoot up to you. Cassian whistles lowly, admiring your appearance. "Damn, you look good enough to eat."

"We didn't start without you, just got here a bit early," Rhysand explains with a grin, leaning back into the chaise. "Only you, Y/N. Only you," he chuckles.

You join them, grabbing a bottle of wine and taking a swig straight from it, earning surprised yet amused looks from your friends. "Like good old times, right?" you beam, and Cassian agrees, grabbing a bottle for himself. "See! I know why I like Cassy best!" you tease, earning a chuckle from Azriel.

As you all engage in casual chatter and laughter, you start to feel the buzz of the alcohol. "I'm bored," you announce, leaning back and watching them lounging around the sitting room. "Can we play something?"

Azriel raises an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing on his lips. Cassian grins and sits up, finishing his bottle before responding, "Bored, Y/N? Let's play something like... Truth or Drink, perhaps?"

"Remember when we played Truth or Drink back in Rhys' cabin in Windhaven?" you reminisce with a smile, earning a snort from Rhysand. "Yes, we got bat shit drunk, and my mother was so angry at us for weeks because Cassian broke not only one but two doors," he chuckles, recalling the memory fondly.

Azriel's laughter joins the mix, his deep voice resonating in the room as he watches the playful exchange between you and Cassian. "Those were the days," he comments, his gaze nostalgic. He finishes his drink and sets the bottle aside, leaning forward with interest. "We could definitely play that again. Who wants to start?"

Sitting up straighter, full of energy, you announce, "I think I'd like that! Who wants to start?" Cassian, ever the instigator, leans forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Placing his empty bottle on the table, he pokes you in the side, then leans back, chuckling. "I'll start. Truth or dare, Y/N?"

Though momentarily confused, you quickly join in the fun. "I thought we were playing Truth or Drink? But I'm fine with this too!" Your grin broadens, accepting the challenge. "Dare!" The three friends share a look, each a bit surprised at your bold choice. Cassian pauses, evidently not expecting you to choose Dare. "Remember, if we don't want to do something, we have to drink!" you remind them, shooting Cassian a daring look. "Come on, Lord of Bloodshed, give me your worst." Cassian's surprise gives way to a hearty laugh. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Alright, here's your dare: go outside and fly around the block. But here's the catch—you have to do it in your underwear."

Your eyes widen in mock horror. "I'm way too drunk to fly!" you exclaim, laughing and playfully swatting at his arm. "Give me something I can actually do!"

Cassian's laughter fills the room, his earlier mischief replaced with amusement at your reaction. "Alright, alright, let's keep it grounded. How about this then: you have to serenade us with the most embarrassing song you know, right here, right now."

Grinning broadly, you nod, accepting the modified challenge. "You asked for it," you warn, rising to your feet with a playful sway. As you clear your throat dramatically, Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian lean back, each one wearing an expression of delighted anticipation. You launch into an off-key, dramatically overacted rendition of a notoriously silly love ballad, complete with exaggerated gestures and melodramatic expressions.

Laughter and cheers fill the room, the earlier tension dissolving into an evening of joyful camaraderie. Azriel watches you with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting pride and affection, thoroughly enjoying the light-hearted side of you.

Now it was your turn to direct the game. You turned towards Rhys, who was already eyeing you with an amused, anticipatory smile. "Rhys, truth or dare?"

Rhys leaned back, his expression turning mischievously sly. "Dare."

You paused, a spark of mischief lighting up your own eyes. "Use your powers to show me one of your dirtiest dreams," you challenged, eager to see if he'd take on the dare or opt for a drink instead.

Rhys's eyes narrowed slightly, a grin unfurling across his face. He extended his hand to grasp yours, a ripple of power coursing through the contact. Suddenly, your vision blurred as he shared a vivid memory—his dream flooding your senses.

You gasped, your cheeks flushing as the explicit scene unfolded in your mind's eye. It was shockingly graphic, and you couldn't help but blush even deeper when Rhys's voice echoed in your thoughts.

Feeling his amusement, Rhys released your hand and leaned back, watching your flustered reaction with a chuckle. "Well, did I pass your dare or not?"

Your eyes were wide, your mouth agape. "I... I didn't expect that. I mean, it was definitely graphic," you managed to stammer out, still reeling from the intensity of the dream. You tried to lighten the mood with a tease. "If you're packing that much in reality and not just in your dreams, your mate is indeed fortunate."

Laughter erupted around the room, the tension breaking as Cassian and Azriel joined in the mirth. Rhys just smirked, pleased with your reaction.

"You're up, Rhys. Why don't you ask our dear Shadowsinger here?" you said, nudging the game along. Rhys turned to Azriel with a playful glint in his eye. "So, Az, truth or dare?"

Azriel's expression was unreadable for a moment before a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "Dare," he responded confidently. Rhys's smile broadened. "I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room."

Azriel's eyebrows raised in mock surprise, then he turned to look directly at you. His smirk deepened. "Challenge accepted." He stood gracefully, crossed the room in a few strides, and sat down next to you. Leaning in close, he pressed a brief, soft kiss on your lips before pulling away with a light chuckle. You blushed furiously, caught off guard by the sudden contact. "Your lips are very soft, Az," you murmured quietly, meant only for him to hear. Azriel's grin widened as he leaned in, his voice a whisper against your ear. "I could say the same for yours."

The room filled with chuckles and light-hearted banter. Cassian whistled, and Rhys laughed, clearly enjoying the turn of events. Now, it was Azriel's turn to steer the game. He looked at you with a playful challenge in his eyes. "Y/N, truth or dare?"

Considering the electric atmosphere and his intoxicating closeness, you replied with a hesitant, "Dare?" Azriel's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I dare you to wrap your arms around me and pull me in for a kiss," he said, his voice low and enticing.

"What, again?" you asked, teasing him lightly. "Don't tell me you kissed me once and already can't get enough."

His chuckle was warm, filling the space between you. "Maybe I just enjoyed it?" Azriel's hands reached out, pulling you closer as he tilted his head, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

The kiss deepened, and you found yourself melting into him, the lines of friendship blurring into something more tender and profound. Cassian's playful voice broke through, adding a flirtatious edge to the night. "Truth or dare, Y/N?" he whispered, sitting close behind you now. You didn’t even hear him cross the room. As his hot breath Fans across the back of your neck, the rules of the game completely forgotton.

Caught between Azriel's lips and Cassian's whispered challenge, you managed a breathless, "Dare?"

Cassian's warm breath tickled your ear, his hands gently tracing circles on your waist. With a sly grin and a gaze full of mischief, he leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "I dare you to stand and strip off your shirt. Let's see what you're hiding under there."

Blushing deeply at his boldness and the intensity of the situation, you hesitated. "I...I'm not wearing anything underneath... this is just my sleepwear," you murmured, a mix of embarrassment and challenge in your voice. As you fumbled with the silk shirt, your wings awkwardly in the way and your movements clumsy from the alcohol, Azriel stepped in. Silently, he helped lift the fabric over your head with gentle ease.

As your shirt fell away, exposing your bare skin to the cool air, Cassian's gaze intensified, drinking in every detail of your newly revealed form. Rhys, no longer content to observe from a distance, rose from his seat and approached with a purposeful stride.

"Allow me," Rhys murmured, his voice a low caress as he reached out to steady you. His fingers brushed your chin, lifting your face as he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender yet insistent kiss. Meanwhile, Cassian wasted no time in exploring the skin now bared before him. His fingers grazed your stomach, slowly making their way up to tease your nipples, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

Caught in the sudden escalation, you gasped, your body responding despite your confusion. "What's happening?" you breathed out, your mind reeling as the game of truth or dare seemed to blur into something more intimate. "Weren't we playing a game?"

"Yes, but it seems we've all become quite..." Rhys paused, breaking the kiss, his voice thick with desire as he stepped back, allowing Azriel his turn. "distracted..." A devilish glint sparked in Rhys's eyes as he turned to Azriel, challenging him. "Truth or dare?" he asked, his tone laden with implications.

Azriel, his gaze fixed intensely on your exposed body, took a deep breath, his desire palpable. Without hesitation, he reached out, his hand cupping your breast, thumb teasing your nipple with deliberate strokes. "Dare," he breathed out, his voice rough.

Rhys smiled wickedly, stepping back to give Azriel space, his eyes alight with anticipation. The scent of arousal hung heavy in the air surrounding you. Rhys' eyes darkened as he observed the unfolding scene with predatory interest. "Azriel," he challenged with a smirk, "I dare you to make her climax."

At the daring proposition, your eyes—wide with desire—met Azriel's. His gaze, alight with raw lust, held yours as he leaned close, his breath searing against your ear. His fingers resumed their tantalizing dance across your nipples, pinching gently, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. "Ah, Azriel," you moaned, your gaze hooded, body arching towards his touch.

Cassian's chuckle vibrated against your neck as he pressed himself closer, his lips grazing your skin. "You're breathtaking," he whispered, his hands exploring downward to grip your hips, his hardness pressing insistently against you.

"What's happening?" you gasped, caught between them, your mind a whirl of sensation and confusion.

"You're not dreaming," Rhys assured with a soft laugh, his hands gliding down between your breasts. His lips captured yours in a deep, exploring kiss, his tongue mirroring the actions of his hands.

Lost in the kiss, you barely registered Azriel's hand slipping down the front of your pants. But his withdrawal, fingers glistening with your arousal, snapped you back to the present. "You're so wet for us, love." He pressed his wet fingers to your lips, and you sucked them clean, your eyes locked on his, wide and filled with lust.

The three shared a look of pure desire. Cassian's grip tightened on your hips as he pulled you flush against him, grinding his hard cock against your ass. "I want you so badly," he growled, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss.

As the kiss deepened, Azriel's hands ventured lower, sliding your silk shorts down, leaving you bare before the trio of fully clothed Illyrians. His fingers resumed their work, now directly on your heated flesh, teasing your clit before plunging deep inside you. The sensation overwhelmed you, and your knees buckled. Cassian supported you, his strong arms wrapping around you as Azriel drove his fingers deeper, faster.

Rhys stepped closer, his hands caressing your breasts. "You're magnificent like this," he murmured. Overwhelmed by their touches, you managed to gasp out, "Need you," as waves of pleasure built within you, your gaze meeting Rhys violet eyes as you come on Azriels fingers with a scream. "Fuck, Azriel!" The Shadowsinger keeps his fingers working inside of you, bringing you close to another orgasm immediately. Shit, they were your undoing.

Cassian scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you to the chaise lounge. He laid you down, his body hovering over yours as he began a tantalizing trail of kisses down your body. "So you want to fuck all of us, hm?" he mused, his breath hot against your exposed skin.

"Yes," you breathed out, desperation lacing your voice. "I want all of you." As Cassian's mouth found your core, his tongue expertly coaxing pleasure from every stroke.

Azriel's hot breath tickled your ear as Rhysand tended to your nipples, groping and kneading your breasts. "You're dripping wet, love," Azriel murmured, his words sending shivers down your spine. With each passing moment, the anticipation grew, the air thick with raw desire.

Belts click and shuffle, as they freed their massive cocks, your eyes widened with a mixture of anticipation and arousal. "Fuck, you're huge," you gasped, your hands instinctively reaching out to wrap around Azriel's cock while your other hand flew around Rhys's.

Azriel groaned at your touch, his hips bucking into your hand as Rhys's attentions intensified on your nipple. "You're going to let us fuck your pretty cunt, aren't you?" Azriel's question hung in the air, met with your eager nod and a firm grip on their cocks. "Yes," you panted, your need echoing in the room. Cassian's growl reverberated against your core as he continued to feast on you. "Good girl," he praised, the vibrations sending you spiraling closer to the edge. "We're going to Fuck you and fill you up until you're screaming our names."

Your body arched, senses overwhelmed as another orgasm approached. "Fucking hell, Cass," you moaned, your hands working Azriel and Rhys with fervor. Azriel's groan mingled with your moans as he guided your mouth towards him. "I want to fuck your mouth," he confessed, his cock eagerly welcomed by your hungry lips. With hunger akin to a starving woman, you eagerly took him in, moaning at the taste of him. Azriel's praise spurred you on as you hollowed your cheeks, bobbing your head with abandon, focusing on driving him to the brink of ecstasy.

As Cassian continued his assault on your core, Rhys's attentions on your breasts intensified. "Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you," Cassian growled, his tongue working magic on your clit. Your moans reverberated around Azriel's cock, driving him closer to the edge.

With each thrust into your mouth, Azriel's groans grew louder, his hips moving faster. "You're going to make me cum if you keep doing that," he warned, the sensation of your mouth driving him wild.

Gasping for breath, you released Azriel's cock as Cassian withdrew from your core. “You take me so well.” Azriel's praise sent a shiver down your spine, his whispered words igniting a fire within you. The primal desire in their eyes mirrored your own, and in that moment, there was no turning back. Many years of friendship, growing up together, winning battles and wars. And here you were, drunk on wine and lust as your three best friends ravished your body.

Cassian's impatience is palpable as he declares his inability to wait any longer. With a firm grip on your thighs, he hoists you up, swiftly discarding his pants to reveal his thick length. Settling back onto the couch, he leans against the backrest, anticipation evident in his eyes.

Your breath catches as he pulls you down onto him, your back molding against his chest as his cock glides through your soaked folds. A sharp yelp escapes your lips at the suddenness of the sensation, Cassian's grip on your hips only adding to the intensity. He throws his head back in ecstasy, a low groan rumbling from his throat as he lazily rubs your clit, causing you to squirm beneath him. Your wings flex against Cassian's chest, adding to the intoxicating intimacy of the moment. Rhys's appreciative gaze sweeps over you, his eyes dilated with desire as he takes in every detail. He leans forward with a feline smirk, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

"What do you want, Darling?" Rhys's voice is low and daring, his violet eyes gleaming with mischief as they meet yours. He grunts at the sight of your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, evidence of how you had them wrapped around Azriel’s Cock just moments before. His admiration is evident as he takes in the streaks of tears and drool on your face.

"Gods, you look good like this," he murmurs before claiming your lips again, his tongue exploring your mouth with fervor, licking into it, teeth clashing against each other in the heated kiss. As Cassian grinds against you, his cock teasing your slick cunt with every movement, you're unable to hold back your moans, each drag through your folds eliciting a desperate response that escapes into Rhys's mouth.

Suddenly, you feel something cold slither up your legs, sending shivers down your spine as it trails along your back like gentle caresses. Shadowy tendrils dance around your form, exploring every inch of your body with an eerie yet tantalizing touch.

Amidst the heated atmosphere, Azriel's voice cuts through with a dark allure. "My shadows are eager to explore your body too," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in closer. "They long to feel every curve, every inch of your skin, and indulge in the pleasure of the sounds you make." His words send a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. As Cassian's warm breath caresses your neck from behind, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, you feel a shiver run down your spine. "Tell me, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire, "have you ever been fucked in that pretty little ass of yours?"

A furious blush spreads across your cheeks at his bold question, rendering you momentarily speechless. Unable to form coherent sentences, you simply nod in response, feeling the weight of their intense gazes fixed upon you, each one watching your every move.

"We need words, angel," Azriel adds, his touch sending electric pulses through your body as he drags a scarred thumb over your bottom lip. Almost instinctively, your tongue slips out, drawing his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it eagerly, eliciting a low groan from Azriel's lips.

"Yes, I've been fucked in my ass before," you admit, your voice hoarse from the earlier throat-fucking. "Good," Cassian hums in response, his cock dragging through your wetness, coating himself in your slick as he positions himself at your asshole. With gentle pressure, he begins to push into you, urging you to relax. Your eyes roll back, your head falling back onto Cassian's shoulder as you feel the stretch.

"Oh, fuck," you groan, the mixture of pleasure and pain coursing through you as Cassian gradually sinks deeper inside you, until he's fully sheathed. "Do you like having my cock up your ass?" Cassian grunts, starting to thrust into you, his movements deliberate and controlled.

"Yes!" you mewl, your pussy twitching and clenching around nothing, craving the sensation of being filled. "Need one of you in my cunt," you whimper, your pussy dripping with anticipation, yearning for attention. Azriel and Rhys exchange a glance, wordlessly communicating their next move. Azriel then positions himself in front of you, propping one leg onto the edge of the chaise lounge, his knees bent and angled as he aligns himself with your cunt.

Azriel thrusts into your drenched hole, his groans mingling with your gasps as you feel yourself being filled so thoroughly. Sandwiched between the two Illyrians, you're overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. "Fuck, you feel so good," Azriel moans, his movements becoming more urgent as he seeks out every inch of your warmth.

Cassian grunts into your ear, his voice husky with desire as he whispers sweet praises, his words sending shivers down your spine. "You're so tight, angel," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "Fuck, you take me so well."

His words fuel your arousal, igniting a fire within you as he continues to thrust into you with increasing fervor. "You're amazing," he groans, his grip on your hips tightening. "So fucking beautiful, taking both of us like a champ."

Rhys stands beside the chaise, his gaze fixated on the erotic tableau before him. With a hunger in his eyes, he positions himself next to you, his throbbing cock eagerly seeking entrance. "Open up for me, darling," he urges, his voice thick with desire as he guides his member between your parted lips. Your mouth, still slick from Azriel's earlier attentions, welcomes him eagerly, enveloping him in warmth. Rhys moans softly, his fingers tangling in your hair as he begins to thrust gently, setting a rhythm that matches the movements of Cassian and Azriel behind you.

His praise mingles with your moans. As Rhys plunges deeper into your mouth, his praises become a melodic chant, whispered between gasps of pleasure. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice a seductive melody against the backdrop of your moans. "Taking us all so eagerly, so willingly." His words send shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you as you eagerly suck him deeper, your tongue swirling around his length in a dance of desire.

"Such a good girl," Rhys continues, his breath hitching with each thrust. "You were made for this, made to be worshipped by us, to be pleasured in every way imaginable." His words fuel you, driving you to take him deeper, to please him as he plunges into your mouth. As Azriel and Cassian pick up their pace, the intensity of their thrusts sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each powerful thrust fills you up completely, hitting the deepest spots inside you, driving you closer to the edge of bliss.

Your body is flushed with arousal, a rosy hue spreading across your skin as your heart races with anticipation. With every thrust, your breasts bounce in rhythm. Beads of sweat form on your skin, glistening under the dim light of the room as the heat of passion consumes you. You mewl and grunt, lost in a haze of ecstasy as every coherent thought is driven from your mind. You're fucked so well, so thoroughly, that all you can do is surrender to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. As Rhys thrusts into your mouth, you eagerly meet his movements, sucking and licking with abandon. His cock fills your mouth, stretching you as you take him deeper, eager to please him as much as the others.

"You're such a good little whore for us, aren't you?" Cassian growls into your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he pounds into you with primal urgency. Azriel's voice is low and husky as he murmurs, "That's it, take all of us. You were made for this, made to be filled up by us." Rhys's words are a seductive whisper against your skin as he thrusts into your mouth, "You're our perfect little plaything, made to satisfy our every desire."

Their words send shivers of pleasure down your spine, fueling the fire of ecstasy that burns within you. You moan around Rhys's cock, your body writhing with pleasure as you surrender to the overwhelming sensation of being taken by them all at once. As they continue to sweet-talk you, their words of adoration and desire fueling the intensity of your pleasure, they also begin to engage in conversation amongst themselves.

Cassian's voice is filled with lust and admiration as he murmurs, "Gods, she's so tight around me. Feels like heaven." Azriel grunts in agreement, his movements becoming more urgent as he drives deeper into you. "She's insatiable. I can feel her clenching around me." Rhys's voice is a low growl as he adds, "She loves it, doesn't she? Loves being taken by all of us at once." The three of them share a knowing glance, a silent communication passing between them as they continue their assault on your body.

As you come around Azriel's cock, your body convulses with pleasure, and you release Rhys's cock with a wet pop, moaning loudly in ecstasy. "Fuck! Gods, yes. More," you whimper, your voice dripping with desire as tears gather at the brim of your eyes once again.

Sensing your need for a change of scenery, Cassian and Azriel pull out of you, their movements synchronized as they lift you up, their strong arms cradling you bridal-style. "Let's go somewhere more comfortable," Cassian suggests, carrying you with ease as you pant heavily, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasms.

Rhys leads the way into his bedroom, the air heavy with anticipation as Cassian gently sets you down on the bed. "On all fours now," he instructs, his voice commanding yet tender as he helps you assume the desired position. "Now tell me, pretty girl," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Whose cock do you want?" You pause for a moment, your mind fogged with desire and need, before you answer with absolute certainty, "All of yours."

Their chuckles ripple through the room, a symphony of desire and amusement. "Yes, but where?" Cassian repeats, his voice laced with anticipation. You bite your lip, considering the question amidst the haze of arousal. "Everywhere," you finally breathe out. Cassian and Azriel exchange a knowing glance, their desire evident in the hunger of their gazes as they settle onto the bed in front of you. "I want all of you to cum inside of me," you declare, your voice dripping with need as you gaze at them with pleading eyes.

A primal hunger ignites within them at your words, their cocks throbbing with anticipation as they watch you with ravenous desire. Without a word, Cassian moves closer, his hands trailing down your spine as he leans in to press his lips against the nape of your neck. "You heard her, boys," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Let's give her what she wants."

Rhys's gaze darkens with desire as he watches the scene unfold before him. With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he moves closer, his fingers trailing over your slick folds before he positions himself at your entrance, his cock twitching with anticipation. "Please," you whimper, your voice pleading as you arch your back, presenting yourself to them completely. "I need you." As Rhys positions himself behind you, his cock pressing eagerly against your dripping folds, you let out a whimper of anticipation, your body trembling with desire. His hands grip your ass with a bruising force, pulling you closer to him as he aligns himself with your slick entrance.

With a low growl, Rhys thrusts into you, his cock filling you to the hilt as you moan in ecstasy. The sensation of being stretched and filled by him sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your back arching and your hips instinctively grinding back against him. Meanwhile, Azriel and Cassian settle on the bed in front of you, their cocks standing proud and ready for your attention. With a hunger that matches your own, you eagerly take them into your mouth, sucking and licking with fervor as you alternate between the two. Azriel groans appreciatively as you take him deep into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him as you eagerly work to drive him to the brink of ecstasy. Cassian's grip tightens on the sheets as you lavish attention on him, your mouth and tongue working wonders. When your mouth cannot please one of them, you work them with your hands.

Back with Rhys, his thrusts become more urgent, his hips slamming into yours with a relentless rhythm that leaves you breathless. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, building the heat within you to an unbearable intensity. You're surrounded by the heady scent of sex and sweat, the sounds of your moans and the slick sounds of flesh against flesh filling the air as you're taken by all three of them at once. As Rhys's thrusts become even harsher and more powerful, you feel yourself being pushed to the brink of ecstasy. Each withdrawal is agonizingly slow, teasing you with the promise of his impending return, before he slams back into you with a force that sends shivers down your spine.

His moans fill the room, mingling with the sounds of your own pleasure as he drives you towards the edge. With each thrust, he curses under his breath, his voice thick with desire and need.

"Gods, your pretty little cunt is milking my cock so well," he growls, his brows pinched in pleasure as he snaps his hips into yours with even more force. "I'm gonna fill you up now, okay, darling?" he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and possessiveness.

You can only manage a breathless whimper of agreement as Rhys's powerful thrusts leave you gasping for air. His cock pistons into you with a relentless intensity, each movement driving you closer to the brink of ecstasy.

With a guttural groan, Rhys pulls out almost completely before slamming back into you, his movements becoming even more forceful and erratic. Your body responds instinctively, arching into his thrusts as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. With one final, powerful thrust, Rhys buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed into your waiting depths. The sensation of being filled by him pushes you over the edge, and you cry out in ecstasy as waves of pleasure wash over you, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm.

As the intensity of your climax fades, you collapse against the bed, panting heavily as you bask in the afterglow of your shared pleasure. Rhys remains buried deep inside you, his breathing ragged as he presses gentle kisses to the nape of your neck, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

"Would you mind if I go first?" Cassian's voice is husky with desire as he glances at Azriel, who returns his gaze with a heated intensity. "Go ahead," Azriel grunts in response, his own desire palpable in the air.

With a silent understanding passing between them, Cassian switches places with Rhys, who withdraws from you only to be replaced by Cassian's throbbing length. Unlike Rhys's powerful thrusts, Cassian's movements are more deliberate, more controlled. He grinds into you, his cock buried deep within your slick folds, maintaining a constant pressure that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the tension in Cassian's body, the urgency in his breath as he nears his own climax. But despite his impending release, he keeps his movements steady, his focus solely on pleasuring you.

And oh, how you revel in it. You love being their plaything, their vessel for pleasure. Your gaze meets Azriel's, and in his hazel eyes, you see a reflection of your own desire, a mirror image of the passion burning within you. As Azriel strokes your hair with a tenderness that belies the raw desire between you, you feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. With each grinding motion, Cassian's cock delves deeper into your quivering core, eliciting a symphony of moans and gasps from your lips. His breath becomes ragged, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, as he nears the edge of release. "Oh, fuck," Cassian groans, his voice thick with desire. "You feel so good, baby. So fucking tight." As his pace quickens, the tension in Cassian's body becomes almost unbearable. And then, with a guttural cry of ecstasy, Cassian finally succumbs to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him. Hot strings of seed spill from his throbbing cock, filling you to the brim as he empties himself inside you. "Fuck, yes," Cassian pants, his voice raw with passion. "Take it all, darling. Take every last drop."

As your body succumbs to exhaustion, collapsing onto the mattress, you feel utterly spent, your legs trembling with the remnants of pleasure. Rhys and Cassian share a knowing smirk and a low, rumbling laugh, their eyes alight with satisfaction.

"How about you run her a bath and get some food while I take care of her," Azriel suggests, his voice a soothing balm amidst the haze of pleasure that envelops you. With gentle hands, he helps you turn onto your back again, his touch as soft as a whisper against your skin.

You sink into the mattress, utterly relaxed under Azriel's tender ministrations, your body humming with satisfaction. The warmth of his touch soothes the ache in your muscles, easing away the tension that had coiled within you.

"Thank you," you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the exhaustion that weighs heavily on your limbs, a sense of contentment washes over you, wrapping you in its comforting embrace. Azriel smiles down at you, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. "Anything for you" he whispers, his words a promise of devotion that sends a flutter of butterflies dancing in your stomach. As Azriel leans over you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, his voice rasps with desire. "I still need to fuck your pretty little cunt one more time, angel," he murmurs, his tone husky with anticipation. With heavy-lidded eyes, you nod, your gaze glazed with the remnants of pleasure.

He moves in front of you, his eyes tracing the halo of your hair spread out like a soft cloud on the mattress, your wings unfurled, a testament to your ethereal beauty. "So fucking beautiful," he whispers, his voice laced with reverence as he gently folds your legs up to your chest, hovering over you with a predatory grace.

"I won't be gentle," he warns, his voice dripping with promise as he plunges into your sensitive pussy. A scream tears from your throat as Azriel's cock, long and thick, fills you completely. There's a certain correlation between the expanse of his wingspan and the size of other parts of his anatomy, and you feel every inch of him stretching you to your limits.

His pace is relentless, unforgiving, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside of you that sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. He moves fast, brutal in his assault on your senses, leaving you no choice but to surrender to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. You moan loudly, wildly, unable to control the spasms wracking your body as Azriel's relentless rhythm drives you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. He grins down at you, a feral gleam in his eyes as he growls under his breath, "Look at you, completely drunk on my cock." His words send a shiver of excitement down your spine, mingling with the waves of pleasure crashing over you. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," he confesses.

As Azriel's gaze wanders to your wings, his own unfurling behind him with a mesmerizing display of power, he traces a finger over the delicate membrane of your right wing. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and you immediately clench around him, your walls squeezing around his cock in a deliciously tight grip.

Azriel's satisfaction is evident in the grin that tugs at his lips, a mixture of pride and arousal evident in the way he huffs with each powerful thrust into you. "One more time. Give me one more," he coaxes, his voice a seductive whisper that belies the feral look in his eyes.

As he continues to pound into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, he keeps softly brushing his fingertips over your wings, exploring the soft tissue and tracing the contours of the delicate bones. Each touch sends shivers down your spine, and you squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body.

Gasping for air, your toes curl as the overwhelming pleasure threatens to consume you entirely. In a tantalizing twist, a shadowy cool tendril finds its way to your clit, adding another layer of sensation to the already intense experience. As Azriel ruts harder, his movements becoming more unsteady and desperate, you feel the tension building within you, every snap of his hips sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each thrust, he drives deeper into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes you see stars.

And then, it happens. You come together, your bodies trembling in sync as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you. Azriel's hips stutter, his movements growing erratic as he shoots his ropes of hot cum deep inside of you, filling you up with his essence.

When he pulls out, a mixture of their combined cum drips from your well-used pussy. Azriel's eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of your fucked-out cunt, leaking with their combined release.

"Fuck, so pretty with our cum all over your pussy, mhm?" he breathes heavily, his fingers gathering some of the spilled cum before pushing it back inside of your throbbing cunt. You moan at the overstimulating sensation, your body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.

"We wouldn't want to waste anything now, would we?" he murmurs, leaning over to brush a soft kiss to your forehead before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. Your body continues to shake as you try to come down from the intoxicating high.

Rhys returns with a tablet full of food, setting it down beside the bed as Azriel picks you up, cradling you in his arms, and carries you to the bathroom where Cassian had prepared a warm bath. The steam rises, enveloping you in its comforting embrace as Azriel gently sets you down into the tub. "You'll bathe," he murmurs softly, his voice laced with tenderness, "then we'll eat, rest for some time, and then..." He pauses, his gaze intense as he meets yours. "Then we'll fuck you until the sun comes up."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and desire coursing through your veins. You nod eagerly, your body still humming with the lingering echoes of pleasure. The promise of more to come ignites a fire in the pit of your stomach as you soak in the warm water, letting it soothe your weary muscles.

As you lean back, closing your eyes and reveling in the sensation of warmth surrounding you, you can't help but smile at the thought of what lies ahead.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

650 notes · View notes

theroundbartable · 11 days

Text

Now I want more awkward crush Arthur.

Merlin *about to retire*: is that all, Sire?

Arthur *suddenly captivated by the fire dancing in Merlin's eyes*: uh... Of course. Yes. Always, as you said.

Merlin: what?

Arthur: what?

...

After a long, awkward dream, during a game of never have I ever:

Gwaine: have you ever had gay dreams?

Arthur: *chokes on drink from last round*

Gwaine: you okay, mate?

Arthur *coughing* who'd ever have dreams about THAT? With Merlin? Don't be ridiculous, Gwaine.

Gwaine: I never mentioned Merlin?

Arthur: *blanks* but it was implied

Gwaine: noo... I'm pretty sure I would not imply such a thing if I knew it made you so flustered.

Arthur: well, anyways. I'm not going to drink on it because this never happened. *Chucks a whole glass of wine*

...

Lancelot suggesting at an inn that Merlin and Arthur share a room.

Arthur: what? No, we - this is inappropriate!

Lancelot: *jesting* Merlin is not a fair maiden. You don't have to protect his virtue

Arthur: that- but he's - i didn't mean - he couldn't have-

Merlin: Arthur, are you alright?

Arthur: did you? Lose your virtue?

Merlin: when I was 16. Jeez, Arthur, what the hell are you on about? We can share a bloody room, don't be a prat! Unless you have any virtue we need to protect?

Arthur: *sputtering nonsensically* maybe a little?

Lancelot: what do you mean, a little?

...

*Merlin dressing as a noble to fool some bandits. He and Arthur exchanged clothes and now Arthur is wearing Merlin's tight jacket that smells like him, while Merlin looks like a regal King. He even walks like one*

Gwaine: Oi, princess, you good?

Arthur: *in a daze* uhu

Gwaine: *waves hand in front of Arthur's unmoving eyes* I think we broke him

...

Princess: *trying to flirt with Arthur* maybe we should go somewhere else? to talk?

Arthur: *watching Merlin from afar* hmm? No, I'm good

Princess: you, eh - *follows gaze* oh my. That servant of yours is quite attractive, isn't he?

Arthur: yeah. *Realizes what he said* eh - what? Sorry, I wasn't listening. What were you saying?

Princess: I believe I've lost this battle, my Lord. *Leaves*

Arthur: uh - what?

...

Arthur: *undressing for bed*

Merlin: *stares*

Arthur: what is it, Merlin? Would you like to request a painting, it'll last longer.

Merlin: hmm... Would you do a nude for me?

Arthur: *voice breaking* now?

Merlin: i was - joking

Arthur: oh *chuckles awkwardly* yes, of course. Sure. ...

Merlin: go on - get ready for bed

Arthur: yes, sure, sure, of course *sweats*

#bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin bbc #arthur #concept #pining Arthur #I think it's funny

414 notes · View notes

risuola · 2 months

Text

ENTRY #5 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // There's sugar to your kisses, it tastes like dessert.

contents: arranged marriage!au, fluff — wc. 2093

a/n: you welcomed the series so warmly and lovely, that I made this part longer. it's sickly sweet, it's fluffy — enjoy!

series masterlist

“What the hell am I doing–“

You groaned. Again and again. Sighing and throwing your hands into the air, helpless and hopeless. Resignation crawling up your skin, threatening to fight and win with your stubbornness and determination. You felt the characteristics you proud yourself with falter and peel away along with your pride and dignity and you found it ironic — pathetic — that years of harsh trainings, of bloody torture you endured, years of fights and pain did nothing to break you and now you’re losing your mind over a goddamn mochi.

Mochi.

A dessert made of rice dough, sweet and objectively adorable with its round shape and sugary filling. If someone asked you how much time you spent in the kitchen already, heating up the glutinous rice flour, mixing and kneading the dough, you wouldn’t know. Hours, most likely. Fighting a battle that you weren’t ready for, mixing ingredients, adding water, whisking, and then kneading again, burning your fingers and pads of your palms more times than you’d ever admit. And you hated it. Hated the corn starch that dusted all around the place, the sticky mass of heated rice flour that you tried to get just right and above all, you hated how much time it took you before it finally started to look like something you can work with.

“There we go,” you mumbled, kneading and stretching the dough between your hands and the marble countertop. There was a reason you were a fighter, not a cook and the current state of your kitchen made enough of a proof. Mochi now, cleaning later.

The fillings were delicious, you had to pat yourself on the back. You were very lucky today to grab the sweetest strawberries you ever ate. They tasted like summer, like hot, tropical heaven and you fought with yourself before you ate them all. The cream you whipped turned out just perfectly thick and fluffy. Then the green edamame paste — your husband’s favorite — came out just as good. Decadent almost, smooth and sweet, with perfect, bright green color and texture of a cloud. Half of your cream you mixed up with melted chocolate and while happy with the insides, you were still a little concerned about the dough.

You’re not gonna be defeated by a rice dough.

You managed to roll out the mass very thinly, perfectly, and began forming mochi, which turned out to be much easier to do than you anticipated.

Take the dough.

Scoop on the filling.

Close the dough.

Roll.

Repeat.

You filled up a tray, all of the balls prettily displayed on top of a parchment paper and you took it upon yourself to have a taste of each one. Delicious. Absolutely mind-blowing.

To the fridge they go.

Now clean.

* * *

Satoru got home around 7 pm — typical, if nothing comes up or hold him at work. His job as a teacher, you learned it quickly, was repetitive, predictable. He’s out the door just shy of 10 am and back near the evening, before the soft pinks and oranges of the summer turn into nightly blues and greys and you grew to appreciate the routine that settled into your lives. Spending most of the days separately made the first weeks of marriage much more bearable. It gave you and him enough time to get used to the new situation and cool off after many fights you had. But that was about to change and you were meaning to tell him today, sweetening the deal with mochi.

Oh right, mochi!

It got you a little too excited for Satoru to ignore, you looked a little brighter than usually, nervous even and he found it concerningly amusing. You’re rarely happy to see him back, he’s more used to see you ignore him than to greet him, and even if so – you’d usually pass him with a hi or an attempt of a small talk that he hated. Gojo couldn’t tell what was it that made you so much more vibrant that evening, you looked thrilled, your eyes glimmered in the dim lights of the house. You almost looked… happy? To see him? No, that couldn’t be it.

“Did something happen today? You look oddly excited,” he spoke, following his usual routine of taking off his uniform jacket and putting it neatly on a hanger in the hallway, folding his blindfold in half to have it ready in the morning and washing his hands and face. The soft, dry towel soaked up the excess wetness from his skin as he patted it away, pointing his ocean-blue eyes toward you expectantly.

“Well, yes, kind of,” you replied and dropped onto the soft cushions of the sofa in the living room. You twisted your body slightly and looked at him, and he got the hint because few seconds later, he sat down next to you. “Two things. First, I got an offer to work as a teacher in your school. Yaga contacted me–“

“You are the new teacher for the second years?” Satoru cut you and you couldn’t read him. A slight surprise was all you could decipher from the expression of his features.

“Yes. Well, not yet,” you sighed, “before I agree I wanted to ask you what you think.”

“And you’ll do as I say? Since when you’re doing as you’re told?” He teased and for a moment you considered eating all the mochi yourself. Maybe tying him to the chair and devouring it right in front of his eyes? You opened your mouth to say something rather unpleasant before he spoke again. “If you’re asking me for permission, we both know you don’t need it. I’m sure kids will benefit from having you to lead them.”

“Are you willing to be civil with me if we spend more time along each other during the day? Last thing I need is to argue with you more than we already do.”

“We don’t argue that much lately,” he protested and you huffed out a chuckle, nodding in agreement. You didn’t fight at all, if you think about it. It seemed as if slowly you were getting used to… everything.

“So, you’re fine with the idea?”

“I’m fine with the idea, yes,” he said, running a hand through his white, slightly damp hair and brushing it back. You took in his features, allowing yourself to just stare at the man you married, because even if wedded, you see him no more than his students are. He still sleeps on the couch; he still spends most of his time outside. “You’re staring.”

“I am,” you confirmed, shamelessly and it made him chuckle. “Talking about staring, close your eyes.”

“Why would I–“

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” you ordered, getting up from the comfortable seat you were sunken into. “Please?”

“I’m honestly concerned,” he said but reluctantly lowered his eyelids. As if it made him any less aware of his surroundings. “What are you planning?”

“Don’t peek.”

Quickly, you padded into the kitchen and uncovered the mochi you kept out of the fridge for about ten minutes now. You took the tray and a glass of water and got back to where Satoru was situated. With his eyes closed, comfortable against the cushions. He felt your weight sinking onto the pillows next to him and a hint of something sweet in the air.

“Open up,” your voice made him hum, still uncertain but curious nonetheless. ‘Open up’ was such a foreign command for him to follow and the small amount of trust that was secure between you and him had to suffice for him to comply. “There we go,” you almost whispered and Satoru slightly flinched at the first contact of his mouth with, what felt like, a blob of cold unknown substance. For a reason he couldn’t really rationalize, he grabbed onto your waist to balance himself, even if there was nothing to throw him off.

Slowly, with caution, Gojo closed his mouth, allowing his teeth to meet the dough, go through it. Mochi. He recognized the sweet taste of his very favorite treat immediately but something about what was just melting against his tongue felt different to what he’s used to. The rice envelope was softer but chewy, sweetened just perfectly and the paste inside — green bean — had a texture of silk and butter, a luscious heaven itself. He felt it spreading along his taste buds, warming against the insides of his cheeks. A perfect mixture of fluffy inside and glutinous outside. So sweet, so delicious.

“Oh my god,” he whimpered. A sound so foreign, that it almost surprised you if not for the very vibrant wash of pleasure that relaxed his features. Just as the mochi melted in his mouth, he melted against the couch.

“Was it good?” You asked, while the answer was relatively clear from what you had a chance to witness. “I made them for you and they are not perfect yet but–“

“You made this mochi for me?”

Satoru’s bright blue eyes snapped open and his grip on your waist tightened. A shock pushed to the front of his expression, he blinked — once, twice — before you nodded slowly. Then he followed the direction of your gaze; his own landing on the tray full neat rows of plump rice balls, so perfectly imperfect against the dark wood below them. He could tell some had a green undertone, the edamame filling, and some were looking white and plain. Next row seemed to have chocolate inside and he could catch the hint of it in the air.

“You made all of this? With your hands?”

“From scratch, yeah,” you nodded, reaching for another one. “Chocolate.”

Being fed by you — his wife — felt odd, unfamiliar, and yet the subtle brush of your fingers against his lips whenever you gently pushed the doughy ball into his open mouth felt just right. Satoru thought he could get used to it, and the mochi.

“So you’re not only a good cook,” you’re not, but you hummed. “But also you can make mochi? If we weren’t already married, I would have asked you to marry me now.”

“That easy, huh?”

“That easy.”

You shook your head, visibly suppressing a giggle and Gojo hoped you wouldn’t hold it. It’s only now that he’s learning how pretty is your smile, how your eyes crinkle every time you allow your face to relax and take on a pattern of joy. He likes the shape your lips form, how they stretch whenever you’re happy and how your brows lift up just slightly above your half-closed lids. He wished you’d let yourself burst out laughing, but instead you shook your head yet again and let out a sigh of content. Good enough.

You reached onto the tray again. This time it was the white blob of doughy goodness hanging heavy between your dainty fingers. “This one is my favorite.”

There was no need to tell him twice. Satoru opened his mouth, eager for the sweetness you called your favorite although from your words he had a suspicion what was inside. Strawberries. You love strawberries. He learned that during the wedding celebration, when you eyed the fruit on his piece of the cake with the most adorable envy he’s ever seen – and then, those very same eyes glittered with pleasure when he exchanged his plate with yours. He remembers how you left the red, plump strawberry for the last bite, how you sighed with content as you bit into the juicy flesh of the fruit, how you nearly purred despite the stressful predicament you were placed into.

“Divine,” Gojo purred himself, as the flavors mixed in his mouth. The crisp, fresh strawberry, along the velvety cream and chewy dough made for an experience he could only compare to orgasm.

He wanted more.

Craved more and he blames it on you that the moment you sunk your teeth into the sweet treat, he leaned closer. His mind went blank when he wrapped his own mouth around the half mochi that sticked out, his lips brushed against yours. A drop of red juice run down his chin, wet and sticky against his skin. He didn’t care. Greedy for more, for you, he leaned in even more, tempted by the sweet taste of your sugar-powdered lips flush to his own.

You gasped. Purred. In surprise, in pleasure, or both.

The feeling unfamiliar, addicting, syrupy.

You should stop it.

You wanted more.

He should stop it.

He wanted more.

It was slow, sloppy and nothing but strawberry and cream.

taglist: @kinny-away , @anan-baban , @lotomber , @netflix-imagines , @kawliflo , @nishloves , @ghostfacefricker6969 , @thejujvtsupost , @yozora7154 , @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost , @ae-mius , @ropickle , @chokesonspit

613 notes · View notes

feirceangel · 3 months

Text

Imagine | Dance (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd attending a ball and being bored to tears until you appear in the crowd.

A/n- thanks to everyone who read and supported my other Feyd fic!! I hope you all enjoy this one too :)

Word Count: 1,353

Warnings: none

The ballroom is overrun with diplomats and politicians. All dressed up in their very best attire, each one is hoping to impress those richer and more influential than themselves.

Feyd observes with a bored demeanour, swirling the blood red wine in his goblet. He’s leaning against a white pillar, staring out at the people with keen dark eyes.

A celebration of this degree isn’t something to be missed, his Uncle had said, insisting on his attendance.

So he attends, although he is bored from the lack of any meaningful conversations or actions. The feast was the best part, his favourite piece a bloody rare steak that practically melted in his mouth.

No one has come to speak with him out of a desire to just chat. No, each person who spoke had an ulterior motive and fear in their eyes. They want to be on the Harkonnen’s good side, lest they become victims instead. So, they chat about inconsequential things, all the while their hands shake and betray their frayed nerves.

Feyd found it amusing at first, but has since grown tired of it. These fickle politics and the endless pursuit of money. Money and power make this universe worth living in.

Music begins to play, a sensual drum beat joined by the strumming of string instruments and an angelic vocalizer. The sea of mingling people part as they allow the dancers the necessary space to move.

Feyd’s lips curl as he watches people join in the dance, the ballroom finally used for its original purpose.

People in skin tight dresses, fashionable suits, those showing too much skin, some showing none- the room is flooded with a menagerie of humans.

Each one is dancing with a partner, bending and swaying to the rhythm. All accept one.

He watches her move in perfect synchronization with the lilting music, lifting her arms high in the air. She avoids the stuffy aristocratic dancers who hardly allow the music to carry them.

She looks like a woman possessed. As if the melody has taken root deep within her and bids her to perform a marvellous spell.

It must be a spell, for he finds himself bewitched.

No one else has captured his attention so profoundly this whole event. He hasn’t even spoken with her yet and oh how he wishes too.

He must.

Feyd has never before desired to dance. Not unless it was the dance of battle, of blades clashing and blood dripping.

You have changed that.

As he watches you deftly twirling and clapping gently to the song, he cannot stop his body from acting on its own accord.

And Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, fearsome warrior, finds himself pushing through the crowd to join you in your hypnotic dance.

You notice when the handsome stranger leaves his spot by the pillar, his eyes fixated only on you. You’re not sure how to feel.

During the dinner, you had walked by him on the way to your designated place. You’re from a minor house, not fit to sit with the guests from the major ones. Not that you minded, it’s always been this way.

He had caught your attention immediately. Brooding and gorgeous, with full, sensual lips and the palest skin you’ve ever seen, how could you resist admiring him?

He hadn’t noticed you then.

He notices you now.

A soft smile graces your lips as he reaches you, dark eyes boring into yours. You stop as he reaches out a sculpted hand.

You take it.

His hand is warm, and you can sense the strength hiding just beneath his skin. This man is dangerous, you realized that when you first spotted him.

To your surprise, he is an excellent dancer, leading you in perfect harmony to the music. You can barely hear the music over the pounding of your heart.

This wasn’t what you expected.

“You are a wonderful dancer,” you whisper once you’re close enough to hear each other.

His smirk is prideful, “A fighter must be lithe and nimble, my lady.”

His voice is raspy, deep. Again, you are taken by surprise.

“You must be an excellent warrior too.”

You spin around, his hand guiding you. He has dropped his smile, replaced it with a predatory look reminiscent of a hungry panther.

“The best,” he replies, supporting your back as he dips you downwards.

The other dancers seem to fade away as you dance with him, this frightening stranger. His touches are like a fire unto you, his gaze a steady burning.

He dances as if it’s a battle of dominance. He leads without hesitation, and you answer with the fluidity and grace befitting a lady.

It’s exhilarating.

And it’s gone too soon as the music dies down and the other clap for the musicians.

Breathing heavily, you simply stare at this man who joined you in rapturous movement, not wanting it to end.

He hasn’t let go of your hand.

You don’t want him to.

“What’s your name?” You ask before he can slip away and disappear forever. If he did, you’d at least want to remember his name.

He smirks, “You don’t know me?”

“No, or I would not have asked,” you point out.

He chuckles, revealing blacked teeth, “I am na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, my lady.”

You blink at this revelation. You’ve never met a Harkonnen before, let alone a such a high ranking one.

Feyd expects you to recoil in fright, surely knowing the brutality his house is known for. He is taken aback when you smile.

“I am pleased to meet you,” you in line your head slightly as you supply your own name.

He realizes his hand is still clasping yours and that you don’t seem to mind it one bit. Feyd gently tugs you towards him, “Come, it is too crowded here.”

Perhaps foolishly, you allow yourself to be led away from the ballroom and into a quiet hall.

It’s late, and you can see the stars through the sheer curtains of the hallway.

“Are you enjoying the festivities? You seemed unhappy,” you ask. “I saw you by the pillar.”

“I was bored,” he admits without care. “Before the dance.”

“And now?”

“And now I have welcome company and my boredom has fled in the wake of your beauty.”

He traces a hand, still so warm, down your cheek. You bask in the attention, wondering if this is all a dream you’ll wake from in a moment.

Feyd’s hand goes lower, until it grasps around your neck and tightens. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to still your breathing. With his grip tight, he pulls you forward and kisses you deeply.

It’s intoxicating.

He kisses like he dances, dominating and alluring. You bring your hands up to grip his shoulders as he continues his assault on your senses.

“Everything was dull until you danced into my sight,” he rasps as you catch your breath. “I’ve never seen such a vision.”

“I have never seen a man like you,” you confess, resting a hand on his chest. “You have such intensity…”

“Does it frighten you?”

“No, no it thrills me, my lord.”

The way those words roll off your tongue has Feyd hooked, his mouth latching onto your neck as he cups your face with one hand.

“Do you know what I’ve done?” He asks, unsure why he’s asking.

“I know you’ve danced beautifully,” you smile. “And I know your touch feels electrifying. And I know you’re going to take me into an empty room.”

You withdraw from him slightly, awestruck at the hunger in his eyes.

“And what happens then?”

He retakes your hand, not too gently this time, and practically drags you to the nearest room, slamming the pen the door.

Luckily, no one is in there.

“You know what happens next,” you say, already stripping him of his fine shirt before doing the same to yourself.

Feyd is glad he decided to come to this festival, thanking his lucky stars as he stares in awe at your beauty.

He wonders if you make love as spellbindingly as you dance.

He’ll soon find out.

#female reader #reader insert #feyd x you #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd oneshot #feyd x reader #feyd-rautha harkonnen #dune part two #dune x reader #feyd imagine #dune

734 notes · View notes