Tumgik
#those eyes speak a thousand words!!!
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"Is he healthy?"
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tonycries · 4 months
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Three's a Crowd (But Four...) - G.S.
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Synopsis. “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?” “Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, foursome (but they’re all Satoru + you LMFAO), NSFW, unprotected sex, double penetration, spit-roasting, face-sitting, doggy, missionary, anal, pet names (sweetheart, pretty, babe), oral sex (male + female receiving), overstimulation (female), swearing, slight breeding kink, cum (like lots).
Word count. 3.0k 
A/N. A lil' sum while I get on with a 10k arranged marriage fic. H O R N Y >>> actual JJK technicalities. 
Jokes, but idc what that technique was, I took that one chapter and ran with it. Art by @_3aem on X.
Cross-posted on AO3
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“They just nerfed Naruto in Boruto cuz they knew he’d be too DILF-y.”
“Amen.” 
Sprawled out on Satoru’s couch, both of you were fixated on the Naruto episode playing on-screen. It wasn’t anything new for a Friday night. His soft hairs tickling your chin, and legs dangling off the other end of the couch as he lay atop, cuddling you like a 6’3 housecat. 
Times like this, it’s easy to forget that your boyfriend constantly bears the burden of being “the strongest”. That is- until Satoru, eyes still locked onto the screen, speaks up “I can do that too, y’know.”
You turn to look at Satoru, “Do what?”
He nods his head towards the screen - now showing young Naruto mastering his iconic technique. “You could call it Shadow Clone Jutsu.” he hums.
Raising a brow, “So you could make tens of thousands of Satoru clones? The world may never know rest.”
Eyes brimming with smugness, he grins “Something like that.”
You cock your head, wanting to know more, “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?”
“Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” he wiggles his brows in a way that would definitely be creepy if it was anyone but Satoru.
“You wish.”
Satoru huffs out a laugh, before going back to using your breasts as his personal cushions. “Not quite clones or holograms, they’re still me. But also not really, y’know?” he murmurs.
“Ahh. No.”
The conversation dwindles into a comfortable silence.
Or so you’d think. But the air was charged with something, and - knowing Satoru - you had an inkling it didn’t bode well for you down there.
As quickly as you suspected, he turns the TV off and turns to you with twinkling eyes.
“Toru...” you reproach.
He whines dramatically, “Come onnnn. Don’t they say the best way to learn is hands-on experience?”
“You just have ulterior motives, Toru.” 
“Hell yeah, I do.” he mutters into the valley of your breasts. Satoru peeks at you through his thick lashes, eyes bright with mischief. 
How could you say no to those eyes? And, well, you’d be lying if you said that the idea of multiple Satorus didn’t make your pussy clench in excitement.
That’s how you found yourself here.
Shirts thrown across the room and splayed out on Satoru’s overpriced silk bed sheets. You gasp in pleasure as he leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, he rocks into you, pushing you deeper into the plush bed. Your pussy drips with anticipation as you feel the outline of his rock-hard cock straining against his sweatpants.
Hooking two fingers under your waistband, he swiftly pulls off your panties along with your shorts. “Already so wet and ready f’me…” he groans out. Quickly shuffling your bodies around, “C’mon sweetheart.” 
Now, Satoru knows he has a pretty face - too well, in fact, he uses it to his advantage to get his way with you too much. And he thinks there’s nothing that makes his face prettier than you on it.
It’s why he has you bent over and straddling his head. The tighter you squeeze him, the better.
One arm holds you in place while the other spreads your folds. Satoru teases your entrance with a finger, gathering your wetness before popping it into his mouth. He groans sinfully as he tastes you. “Fuck- always so good for me.”
You slowly put your weight onto him, failing against the strong arm that pulls you to sit on him properly. 
Satoru moans around your cunt as he finally dives nose-deep into it. Languidly, he licks long stripes against your folds, purposefully catching your clit in the process. “Hah- Fuck. Toru, more!”
Satisfied with your whines, he finally slides his tongue inside your dripping pussy, fucking you with his mouth till his cock twitches for friction.
You notice, and urgently shuffle his sweatpants down. Satoru’s cock stands achingly hard, precum dripping enticingly along the vein on the side of it. You lean down to kiss the shaft, delighting in his noises that send vibrations down to your clit. 
As you take his blushing red head into your mouth, Satoru increases his abuse on your cunt.
You arch your back further into his face - moaning around his thick cock. He starts fucking into your mouth steadily, forcing you to take more and more of his length. Drool drips down the corners of your mouth, “Mmm Toru- Feels so good.”
If one Satoru makes you feel this good…what would two feel like?
As if reading your mind - you wouldn’t be surprised if he actually could - Satoru pulls away slightly, ropes of spit still connecting him to you.
“Ready, sweetheart?” he murmurs lowly, hot breath making your cunt quiver.
And before you can respond, the hairs on your body raise as the air stills with the crackle of jujutsu. You remove yourself from Satoru’s cock with a wet pop! Looking up to see…those cerulean eyes. 
Another set.
“Toru…” you drone out, turning behind to glare at Satoru - who was now placing innocent kisses to your dripping pussy. His eyes peek out with visible amusement, “Jus’ say the word and I’ll stop.”
Satoru knew he had you cornered. He’d fully felt the way your walls clenched around his tongue once you saw the other version of him. This was going to be fun.
Harshly rolling his tongue against your clit, he lightly smacks your ass - signaling you to pay attention to the other Satoru in front of you now. 
So you do.
It was quite surreal seeing an exact copy of your boyfriend grinning down devilishly at you. He cups the back of your head, bringing you closer to him. “Don’t be scared, pretty. It’s jus’ me.” 
At first, you were unsure of what to do, the only thing you know being that - clone or not - this one was just as well-endowed as your boyfriend.
Experimentally, you press soft kisses to his hot tip, relishing in his drawn-out groan. You take him in deeper, tonguing the slit in the way you knew your boyfriend liked. “Yeah- Jus’ like that.”
He tightens his grip on your head. Pumping your Satoru with one hand, you use the other to steady yourself as your mouth gets used as the other’s own personal fucktoy. 
Shit. This was heaven.
Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you pull away, “Hngh- Toru, feels so fucking good.” Mewling at the stimulation on your cunt as well as the depravity of the act, you grind your hips deeper into Satoru’s mouth - searching for your high. 
Soon, you feel that familiar snap in your stomach. Satoru uses his fingers to spread your lips as you cum all over his tongue. He laps up your juices with lewd squelching sounds as his clone fucks your face deeper. Nose meeting his snowy white pubes and balls hitting your chin, you choke from both the position and Satoru’s relentless tongue. 
“Yeah, cum all over my tongue, sweetheart.”
You ride out your high on Satoru’s pretty face, slick spreading all over his mouth and nose. With a final kiss to your cunt, he shifts your legs and moves to tower over from behind. 
Removing yourself from the other’s cock, you look over your shoulder to see your boyfriend sensually pumping himself, readying to enter your eager pussy.
“Hey now, eyes on me, pretty.” A long finger moves your chin so that you face the Satoru in front of you. Seems that no matter what, every Satoru was a little possessive over you.
He rubs his dripping tip on your face, smearing his precum as a gloss before fucking into your mouth once more. 
Almost at the same time, Satoru fully rams his cock inside your pussy without any warning, tip kissing your cervix.
 “Shit. Always taking me in so good, sweetheart.” he huffs out as your walls flutter around his length.
You groan loudly around the cock in your mouth, partly from the pain of being unprepared and partly from the pleasure of getting what you wanted the most - both ends filled by your loving boyfriend.
Your eyes were dazed as you stare doe-eyed up at the Satoru that was plunging into your mouth mercilessly - the other fucking your hole at a similar pace. Strangled yelps leave your mouth as his balls sinfully slap against your clit. 
The room fills with loud, wet noises, and the slapping of skin. Both Satorus hunch over you in pleasure, muscles rippling. Your cunt quivers in an almost-animalistic way at the small grunts falling from their pretty lips.
You whine as he finds that one spot inside you which makes you see stars every time his hips meet yours. One hand - you were too far gone to recognize whose - reaches under you to draw harsh circles on your clit.
Tears spring to your eyes at the sheer overstimulation, and you rock your hips to meet his powerful cadence. One of your hands reaches for the other’s hip for stability, nose meeting his pelvis nails dragging along the soft skin. He grips your hair tighter, lips bitten and swollen at the stimulation.
From the way your pussy was clenching, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you were cumming again.
Now, throughout his life, Satoru has been called crazy many times. Crazy powerful, crazy handsome (in front of the mirror), and just downright mad. But it’s right about now - watching as you choke and cry around his own dick as he plows into you from behind - that he truly thinks he just might actually be a little crazy.
Slowing to shallow rocks, he focuses on his technique. 
Satoru basks in amusement when your whines of disappointment at his slowing pace die down as you register the tugging and sucking on your nipples from below.
You gasp as you break away from the Satoru in front of you and look down, breath catching in your chest as you realize that your boyfriend has conjured up another clone of himself. 
He was going to be the death of you.
“Pay attention, sweetheart.” you hear from behind you as Satoru starts up his relentless rhythm once more, hand now moving to squeeze and spread your ass. 
You knew where this was going, and you didn’t mind it one bit.
The stretch of your cunt as it adapted to Satoru’s length burned almost as much as your nipples as his clone continued to bite and tease them. “Feels good, babe?” he sighs around your breasts. Yet your whines of pleasure are quickly muffled by the flushed tip kissing your lips once more. 
“Hope you didn’t forget about me, pretty.” 
“More- Hngh, Toru!” you whine, not sure which Satoru you were addressing anymore . All three of them speed up their motions, the pleasure from all points pushing you over the edge.
You as you cum fast and hard. 
But your Satoru(s) don’t let you have a moment’s rest as your orgasm is quickly overshadowed by your boyfriend’s hands on your ass. Teasingly drawing circles around the rim. You shiver, hole quivering at the cold feeling of his saliva hitting you. 
His cock still ramming into your abused cunt, Satoru enters a finger into your ass. Using his spit and your slick from before to stretch you out till he’s satisfied. “Fuck- Taking me so good, sweetheart.” he moans out at the sight of you being stretched out from all ends by him and only him.
You continue mewling as the pleasure overtakes you. He was going to ruin you.
Half-delirious from all the stimulation, you barely hear the lowly “Ready, babe?” from below you before Satoru pulls out and suddenly you’re flipped. Easily manhandled by your boyfriend, your head lolls against his replica’s strong shoulder as you’re caressed from three sides once more.
“Feeling alright, sweetheart?” your boyfriend rasps from above. Now hot and bothered once more from how your loving boyfriend was using you like a ragdoll, you gasp out “Yeah, Toru. Need you so bad.”
“Oh yeah?” he grins, lining himself up with your pulsing pussy. “Tell me how badly you want me in all your tight lil’ holes.”
You choke out a sob at the way your Satoru was teasing your folds with his thick cock. “So bad- Need you so bad Toru. Want you to fill me up everywhere.” 
Arching your back, you grind your ass against the furiously hard cock prodding at your asshole. Hearing choked gasps from below you, your pussy clenches in anticipation around nothing. To Satoru, your arousal is almost palpable - as strong as the cursed technique in the air surrounding you two.
And that seems to be what finally makes Satoru snap before he sheathes himself entirely in your dripping cunt. Your strangled moans are cut off by the other Satoru slowly bullying himself into your other hole.
“Ah- Ah!” you yelp in both pain and pleasure as you’re stretched to your limits. You feel full. So full. You were going to snap - like a rubber band - and your boyfriend was going to be reveling in his success. The man in question furrows his brows, groaning at the sweet feeling of his pretty lil’ girlfriend being so tight.
A single tear streaming down your face is gently brushed away as a pair of muscular thighs come to rest beside your face. “Shhh, pretty. You can take it.”  
Both of them start moving carefully.
Satoru would never admit it, but feeling his own dick stretch you out twofold has been a little fantasy tucked in a deep, dark corner of his mind ever since he realized the nefarious purposes his technique could be used for.
He could feel his other version pumping into you from behind as he ruts into your cunt mindlessly. The friction mixed with the gummy wetness of your pussy was mind-blowing - fuck, he really should have watched Naruto with you sooner.
Satoru gazes at you through half-lidded eyes as you press kittenish pecks to his clone’s cock above you. You stare right into your boyfriend’s eyes as you take the length into your mouth once more, inch by inch. Nose meeting his pelvis.
Shit. Satoru feels like he could pass out - whether from seeing the sinful image of all your holes filled by him or from the excessive use of his cursed technique, he doesn’t question. Your walls flutter, struggling to take him both.
Fuck, he really feels like he’s gonna explode.
Satoru pulls out fully before harshly thrusting into you once more, keeping up a pace that has his abs burning and you struggling for air. He sees another tear fall delicately down your cheek.
“My girl takes me so well, huh? Fuck. Made jus’ for me, sweetheart.”
The air was stagnant with the smell of sex and jujutsu. 
All three Satorus thrust into you fiercely, the bed creaking furiously. Satoru has half a mind to worry about whether it would break down in the middle of all this. How inconvenient that would be, he’s so close. 
It was animalistic, the way you could just sit there and take it as your boyfriend used you in all sorts of ways you never deemed possible. 
You’re pretty sure your body is completely bruised and raw at this point. Eyes fluttering shut, tears cling to your lashes as you’re filled up. Your brain, as well as your holes, were overwhelmed with only Satoru Satoru Satoru. If your mouth wasn’t suckling on his length, you’re sure you’d be screaming loud enough for Satoru’s neighbor’s to file a noise complaint.
Good. So good.
Feeling that sharp tug on your stomach again, your legs flail as you steadily reach your climax. Held down by three sets of large hands - all caressing you relentlessly in various ways - you finally cum with an exhausted whimper.
Brain foggy and eyes unfocused, you barely feel the twitch of Satoru’s cock. 
With a throaty moan, all three versions of your boyfriend cum - not one pulling out. Your senses are overtaken as Satoru doesn’t relent his pace, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into your abused pussy.
Ah- He felt he was gonna fuck another Gojo into you. Carry on his legacy. Shut those old cows up about a Gojo heir.
You’d look so round and beautiful with his kids. 
“Only I get to cum in this pussy.” he drawls out as he keeps rutting his sensitive cock into you. Low whines get stuck in his throat as he loses himself in the feeling of your tight walls coated in his semen. His other versions were also at their limit, shooting out thick streams of cum to paint your face and ass. 
You were so beautiful like this. Fucked out and covered in his seed. 
His and only his.
As you slowly come to your senses, the first thing you feel is wet. Not from your own slick, but from Satoru’s thick cum - it was everywhere, decorating your lips, your tits, all the way down to your holes below. 
The second thing you feel is raw. You weren’t too sure anymore that you’d be able to make it to that family dinner tomorrow, Satoru had absolutely gone all out tonight. 
Laying there, willing yourself to move, you flinch as something soft and wet touches your legs. “Shhh…easy there, sweetheart. Get some rest, I’ll take care of it.” you hear the soothing whisper of your one and only boyfriend. 
You muster up the strength to look up and see his gentle smile. “Rest.” he breathes out as he continues to wipe you down. In the back of your mind you register the distinct lack of the other presences of your boyfriend.
“T-Toru...” you were too fucked up to formulate proper sentences.
“Shhh it’s okay.”
At his tender whispers, you easily drift into a fatigued sleep. You dream of shadow clones and blue, blue skies. 
Waking up after your brief nap, you find yourself dressed and cuddled by Satoru on a fresh set of sheets. “You okay?” he mutters in-between innocent pecks to your bruised lips.
At your affirmative nod, he probes further “Learn anything about my technique?”
“Absolutely not.” you sigh, pulling him in closer. As you snuggle into the crook of his neck, you almost miss the devious grin spreading across his face.
“Then…wanna try six next time?”
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A/N. No Part 2 till I figure out better ways to differentiate these bitches LMAO.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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sttoru · 10 days
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‘and if i only could, i’d make a deal with god, and i’d get him to swap our places. .’ — kate bush
 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x wife!reader. fluff to angst (no comfort). spoilers chapter 261. reader’s pregnant. major character death. mentions of blood, death. nicknames ‘pretty, sweets’. not proofread bcs i couldn't through the tears. i cried nine times writing this so.. good luck! wc: 3.6k
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“he’s kicking again,” satoru chuckles excitedly. he’s been clinging onto you ever since you got back from your doctor’s appointment. your baby boy is growing up healthy and there don’t seem to be any complications.
you smile and rest back against the velvety pillows. you’re enjoying the affection you’re receiving, the kisses and nuzzles against your swollen tummy makes every bit of suffering worth it. your husband is going to be an amazing dad, that you can tell.
“hey, little guy—don’t give ya mommy a tough time,” satoru huffs and gently taps the side of your stomach that was last kicked by the unborn baby, “that’s my wife, y’know?” you giggle at the scene in front of you and close your eyes, relaxing your body.
a comfortable silence hangs in the room. satoru’s warm hands cupping and rubbing your round stomach add to the tranquil atmosphere. the weight of your husband’s head presses onto the front of your plump belly—ear pressed against the stretched skin as if expecting to hear your baby boy talk.
after a while, you open your eyes. you hear a sniff and then the usual silence follows. you look down at satoru settled between your legs, hugging your waist and resting his cheek on your tummy. he’s awfully quiet and you’re unable to see his eyes because of his bangs.
“toru, everything okay?” you carefully ask. your voice comforts him for the next couple seconds, before his muscles tense up once more. satoru tries his best to seem unaffected by the many thoughts scurrying through his head.
“mhm,” your husband nods and forces a small smile. though, he can’t keep the facade up any longer. the longer you’re pregnant, the more worried he gets about a certain something; something that’s been bothering him ever since.
it’s the reason why he doubted even having kids in the first place.
“i—well. i don’t know, sweets,” satoru sighs. a deep sigh that shatters the mask he’s had on for so long. his brows furrow and his eyes dart from one place to the other. his fingers stop their movements on your stomach. they curl around the material of your shirt instead; showing a clear sense of vulnerability.
satoru seems. . . afraid, yet also angry. perhaps at himself, perhaps at the world. you don’t utter a single word. if there’s anything you want, it’s for your husband to speak about his inner turmoil freely. you’re the only person who he can have such emotional conversations with—the only person he can be himself with.
the real gojo satoru.
not the strongest.
that’s why you’re not surprised when satoru opens his mouth to confess the inevitable to you. “i’m scared,” his voice cracks. it’s a faint change in tone, but it is noticeable to you. you’ve been his lover for long enough to notice every minuscule thing.
the white-haired man lets out another sigh. you brush his soft bangs out of his eyes and instantly notice the sudden weariness in them. normally, those beautiful blue eyes shine brightly, yet that light has now dimmed.
you pat his head and satoru immediately leans into your touch. you allow him to process his own emotions and words before speaking up.
“scared?” you ask quietly and carefully, giving your husband space to explain.
satoru nods. there are a thousand thoughts running through his mind. all those thoughts he’s tried to suppress since the day you’ve announced your pregnancy. maybe even before that—at the day of your wedding.
he’s sat down with you a few months into the marriage, to have the talk about kids. he seemed to be delighted to have children with you, however there have always been some dark and hidden thoughts lingering in the back of his mind.
the sorcerer has chosen to ignore them for the longest time. he’s been trying to convince himself that he has nothing to worry about. you’re going to be fantastic parents and your children are going to be extremely loved.
the day you surprised him with your pregnancy, was like a dream. satoru cried - which he rarely does - so it was an emotional night for both of you. neither of you could wait to meet your child—happy with whatever gender.
despite all of the optimism and enthusiasm, satoru’s struggles with his inner thoughts have not yet ended. he doesn’t want to bother you with it. you seem so content and he does not want to ruin that at all.
but even the strongest without limits has to reach a breaking point.
“yeah,” satoru speaks up, his voice hoarse. he kisses your belly button, hoping his child doesn’t pick up on his distress somehow. your husband closes his eyes as he places his forehead against your tummy, praying that the heavens above hear his pleas, “i don’t want our kid to inherit my cursed techniques. at all.”
your hand doesn’t stop stroking satoru’s hair. you don’t flinch at his words, nor do you immediately discard his worries. in all honestly, you’ve shared the same feelings before getting pregnant.
you know how satoru’s treated by the jujutsu society. it’s dehumanising how he’s seen as a weapon of some sorts. a weapon that could solve all problems—one that cannot rest until its duty is done.
you despise it. you’ve told satoru about your hatred for the toxic society, even going as far as asking him to move to a different country without telling anyone. you’re sick and tired. you can’t recall the amount of times that you’ve cried alone, in the bathroom, after you’ve seen the state your lover comes back home in.
the white-haired man always seems so tired. his eyes and head hurt because of them overusing his cursed techniques. there are even days where satoru doesn’t put his blindfold or sunglasses off at home.
and when you try to talk to him about it, satoru simply assures you that ‘he’ll be fine’. you believe him in the moment, but you don’t know for how long you’ll be able to keep that trust.
you’re letting him break, slowly yet surely, right in front of you. he’s working himself to his demise. it’s nothing out of the ordinary to not want the same for your child.
though, you’re sure that it’ll be fine even if your baby boy inherits satoru’s techniques. that’s because you two are going to protect him with all you have. no one is going to treat your child like a weapon—not while the both of you are still alive.
“i don’t want our child to take over the burden i carry,” satoru continues. his brows are furrowed and his lips are pressed into a thin line. he’s already thinking about all the possibilities that can follow with the birth of your son.
he can hide his child from the world, but wouldn’t that be too restrictive? he can keep an eye on him every second of the day, but wouldn’t that be overprotective?
you notice satoru’s internal state of panic increasing, so you quickly cup his face. you lean down and press a firm kiss against his lips, to which he instantly responds. his breath hitches and he sits up on the mattress, deepening the kiss as his hands hold you by the back of your head.
he needs this—you—more than anything else in the world. if it wasn’t for you, he’d have lost his sanity long ago.
you pull back after a good minute and pant. you chuckle as you notice the slight pout on satoru’s lips. he never seems satisfied with just one kiss, which is adorable. you coo and pepper his face with small pecks, “aww.”
it’s comforting to the sorcerer. he closes his eyes and his mouth forms a small smile. you’re doing an amazing job at calming him down. satoru’s muscles relax and he finds himself nestled between your legs soon enough.
you realise that he’s still somewhat afraid for the future of his child by the way he’s playing with your shirt. his head lays on your chest and his long fingers trace shapes on your exposed skin.
“i know, honey, i know,” you murmur against the top of his head. you massage satoru’s scalp gently, nearly making him purr because of how incredible that feels. you stare at the ceiling and continue your little talk.
“i’ve thought about all of it too,” your fingers find his undercut, playing with the little hairs. all you can hope for is that your partner stresses less about the outcome of your pregnancy.
if you can do one thing for him, it’d be that. reassuring him that you’ll both do your best for your child will surely put him at ease. your husband has enough to worry about anyway.
you want to share that burden. you don’t want him to carry the world on his shoulders alone—he’s got you for that now.
“but i think that our son will be fine. why? because he’s got you,” you smile and kiss satoru’s forehead. it’s his favorite type of kiss and it works wonders when you comfort him. his ocean eyes regain their sparkle, both because of your unconditional love and trust in his parenting skills, “our boy will grow up fine and protected because he’s got you as his amazing dad, yeah?”
satoru takes some time to let your words sink in. your trust in him is a beautiful thing. of course, he’ll protect his kid no matter what. both you and his kid will be safe for as long as he’s alive. you’re going to be a happy family—one that he’s always dreamed of having.
he isn’t going to raise his child to be the strongest. he isn’t going to raise his child as an heir to the throne. he isn’t going to raise his child as his legacy. he isn’t going to raise his child as a tool.
his son will have a normal childhood and he will guarantee that. satoru will give his kid what he didn’t have as a child himself;
unconditional love and support for whatever his son wishes to become.
satoru raises his head and leans in to kiss you, hugging you to himself. he adores you so much, you’re all he needs to feel like he can do anything and everything all at once.
carrying the world on his shoulders so you can live peacefully in it is all satoru does it for.
“heh, damn right. i’ll be the best husband and dad ever.”
. . .
but in the end, your dreams are just dreams, right?
an escape from reality, that’s all dreams really are. all those times you’ve sat together to pick the furniture you want to place in the nursery, to paint the room a baby blue, to buy clothes and toys, diapers and carriers, to giggle about the places you would love to visit as a family, to think about possible baby names, to joke about whether your son will say ‘dada’ or ‘mama’ first — all of it were naive, hopeful dreams.
perhaps you were too caught up in them to realise that reality will hit when least expected.
satoru and you have lived in your own bubble—your own little fantasy world where tragic fates does not exist. no one in this planet would suffer if life worked that way.
no one on this planet would have to pick up the phone and have their world shatter, their dream bubble pop. to have all hope lost in the span of a second.
grief is a scary thing. it’s devastating and it will consume you whole. you don’t realise that until you experience it firsthand. losing someone close to you will break you in half. it’s a punch to the gut.
especially if it’s your husband. someone you considered your partner—who’s promised you to be together forever. maybe those promises were also a part of your fantasy.
maybe they were also but a beautiful lie.
your footsteps feel heavy. you don’t have any energy left in you. every drop has been drained from you the moment you heard the news over the phone. your eyes and head hurt, both feeling like they’re going to burst. you don’t want to accept any of this.
the faces of the people around you are a blur. they’re all holding their head low, their hands gathered in front of them to show respect. no one speaks—all the room is filled with are your sobs. the loud cries you let out in hopes that they wake you up from this absolute nightmare.
you drag your feet to the examination table in the middle of the room. tears continue to blur your vision, though surely, you can confirm the outline of the body laying underneath the blanket.
how could you not recognise the person you thought you’d spend eternity with?
it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. . .
“satoru.” your voice is barely audible. your hands are shaking and your face is stained with endless streams of tears. you stand at the side of the table and you instantly curl your fingers around the edge.
seeing that face from up close hits different. usually, it’d have your stomach fill with a feeling of delight, yet now all you feel when looking at it is unimaginable dread.
the blood on the corners of his mouth. the blanket that’s hiding whatever is left of him from below the waist. the dull eyes that once stared at you with hope and love. those dried lips that normally shone with a layer of gloss.
god, it’s awful. you don’t want this to be true. you’re still waiting to be woken up by your husband. so he can hold you close and hug you, whisper sweet nothings and reassure you that he’d never leave you alone in a savage world like this.
your shaky fingers reach out to his right hand. his skin feels cold and his hand doesn’t hold yours back. your breath hitches and you let out a long, devastating cry. it sounds like a scream for help as your body crumbles—falling to your knees whilst you tightly grip your lover’s limp hand.
“no, god no, please!” you cover your mouth with your free hand, nearly hyperventilating from pure pain. you feel like your heart is going to give up on you. it’s breaking into a million pieces, as does your future. you can’t live without him—you can't do it.
satoru is the sole reason you’ve held out for so long. you were each other’s support system. you can’t do any of this on your own. you can’t breathe properly—your body doesn’t let you.
not until you feel a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. you can guess that it’s shoko, but you’re too distraught to even pay attention to her. you lift yourself up by holding onto the edge of the table, your legs shaking. you sniffle and sob uncontrollably.
you reach out to touch satoru’s lifeless face, as gentle as you always do. you flinch when you feel just how cold his body is—the usual warmth that would comfort you gone, nowhere to be found. you don’t get a reaction from him when you touch his cheeks.
it only serves to remind you of the tragic events that unveiled. you’re still in denial, but the moment feels real. your brain is slowly yet surely processing the information. though, you don’t want it to. you want to live in a world where you grow old with your husband.
where your child is going to grow up with a father figure at home.
“satoru, come back to me.. to us, please,” you beg and beg, hoping he smiles and sits up, telling you that it’s just one of his silly pranks again. when none of that happens, you feel yourself become more hopeless. you hunch over him and cup his face. the same face that would light up whenever you’d touch it.
you hiccup and wail, unable to breathe. you rub his cheekbones with your thumbs, settling your forehead against his. your tears fall underneath his eyes and slide down his temples, making it seem like he’s crying with you.
you wait for satoru to respond, but he doesn’t. there’s an eerie silence on his part and you’re panicking. you need him to comfort you, but he isn’t there to do that anymore. you’re left alone, all alone.
“i can’t do this without you—we can’t do this without you,” you stammer between sobs. you can’t go through life, knowing satoru isn’t going to be there for you. he isn’t going to come home anymore. he isn’t going to cuddle you to sleep anymore. he isn’t going to experience what it’s like to have a family of his own. he isn't going to be able to hold his child and to play with him.
you blame life for being unfair—always taking away the people who don’t deserve it. satoru hasn’t done anything to deserve this. he just.. existed. his fate of becoming the strongest, decided at his birth, is what has lead to his death.
you continue to sob to yourself. you refuse to acknowledge anything or anyone else in the room. you’re solely focused on your husband. or rather, what’s left of him.
remembering how excited satoru was to spend the rest of his life with you and your future children pains you all the more. he’s been stripped from a normal life. you’ve tried your hardest to give him that said normal life, yet your hopeful dreams have gotten you nowhere.
you wipe your tears away for the first time in a while. your grief is making you delusional—disoriented to the point you try to make yourself feel better. you force a smile and hold tightly onto satoru’s limp hand, trying to speak through your quiet sniffles.
“o-our boy is gonna be born soon,” you chuckle bitterly and place satoru’s hand on your belly. it’s gotten bigger over the months and you’re already eight months along. he was so close to meeting your child—so close. yet his tragic destiny did not allow him to.
you hope he’s been happy with you for as long as he lived. you hope you’ve somewhat relieved him from his misery for as long as he lived. that burden he carried, the world he carried on his shoulders. . . it doesn’t seem to want to detach from him. even after death.
you press a deep kiss against his forehead. satoru’s favorite spot to be kissed at, you remember. you wish he feels it in the afterlife; wherever he may he. as long as he’s in a better place now, one that treats him well. this current world has been too cruel on him. it doesn’t deserve to home someone like your husband.
“i wish you were here to see your son. to see our baby grow up, you'd be so proud, honey,” you kiss satoru’s forehead again. it’s all you can do stop yourself from losing it completely. you know satoru would tell you to be strong, for his sake. for your unborn son.
“i’m going to tell him all about you, ‘kay? i'm going to tell him about how awesome his dad was,” your voice breaks for the nth time. you’re still in the first stage of grief, though you try to seem strong in case satoru is watching from somewhere.
that’s what he did when he was the one going through a tough time. he’d act brave and fine, putting on a mask to make you worry less, telling you all kinds of reassuring words while he was suffering internally.
now it’s your turn to safely send his soul off to the afterlife. to let satoru pass away in peace, with him knowing that you’re going to live on for him and for your child. it’s the least you can do at the moment.
you put on a brave face, staring into his lifeless eyes, smiling through the unbearable pain. you’re sure he’s still listening to you from somewhere. satoru’s always told you that your voice is soothing, so you do your best to calm his soul and reassure him that it’s fine for him to rest.
“i’ll do my best to raise him, yeah? so you.. you just rest.”
rest was a foreign word to the sorcerer. this world didn’t give him an ounce of peace. he’d either be overworked by his family or the jujutsu society, and if it isn’t work, his inherited techniques were slowly killing his brain and body.
you’re praying that satoru has none of that in the afterlife. you’re praying that he can live a normal life, eternally. so that when you join him one day, you both won’t have to suffer nor share the burden. you can live out your dreams without anyone interrupting.
not even fate.
“you deserve to rest. you really do,” you sigh.
soon enough, you feel yourself crumble again. you burst out in tears once you realise that he’s actually never coming back to you in this life. you bury your face in the crook of his neck and sob loudly, not holding back your emotions anymore. you just can’t—you can’t act brave when your second half has been taken away from you so suddenly.
you hope that you succeeded into sending him off without any worries. you can’t help but continue rambling to yourself, “i’m going to miss you s’much. oh, my baby.”
you lift your head back and stare into satoru’s eyes once more. did he think about you when he was on his deathbed? did he see his life flash before his eyes, including his many memories with you? did he see what could have been?
it’s unfair.
you give him one last bright smile and gently close his eyelids for him, hoping his lost soul saw your face before you did so. with one last kiss on his lips, you whisper your final words;
“please wait for me on the other side, my love.”
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barbieaemond · 6 months
Text
Lykirī
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PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob, we ride him bitches, dom/sub tones if you squint
WORD COUNT: 8.9k
Author's note: an early Christmas gift for those who celebrate!! For those who don't, just a regular smutty piece. This was based on a request where wife!reader rides Aemond. Merry Aemondmas :)
MASTERLIST
taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee
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"You are to marry the King's second son. Prince Aemond Targaryen."
Those were your father's words. Your sister had looked at you almost with pity and a hint of relief since that fate had befallen you and not her. You had simply nodded, accepting the fate decided by your father, just as thousands of other daughters before and after you would have done.
Your mother had come to comb your hair before going to bed, and without much ado, she had told you what would happen after the wedding, after the banquet.
"All you have to do is try to relax your nerves, and I promise it will be less painful.”
The thought had stuck in your brain until the wedding day. And the aura emanating from the prince didn't help. He was stoic to the point of looking like a statue, his posture rigid as a spindle, and there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand when he took your hand to recite the wedding vows. Fear, but also a foreign giddiness prickling your skin upon feeling his calloused fingers around yours.
The banquet had not helped either. Prince Aegon had behaved like a court jester, drinking to the point of wondering how he could stand upright, poking his brother with cruel jokes about his eye and a whore who had made Aemond a man many years before.
You didn’t know what kind of unpleasant memories your good-brother had just summoned in his brother’s mind. That woman and her cheap perfume, that way it had clung to his skin, to his thoughts for days after his only ever trip to Flea Bottom.
Then the elder Prince had approached you with his breath stinking of Dornish and it was then that Prince Aemond broke his icy silence, standing up abruptly and looking down at you. "Come, wife. It is time for us to retire."
Prince Aegon had clapped his hands as if in front of a hilarious show, saying "Finally some fun! The bedding!"
The entire crowd present at the banquet had escorted you to the prince's chambers. The servants had removed your dress, leaving you in your underskirts; you had unconsciously covered your chest, crossing your arms to hide from the greedy eyes of the men peering in the doorway, Prince Aegon in the front row with yet another cup of wine clutched between his fingers.
Master Mellos invited you to lie down on the bed, and you obeyed, swallowing, while a host of servants shielded you from view as the Maester made his humiliating inspection.
"All is in order, your Graces," the Master informed the Prince and Queen. And that was enough for Aemond to completely slip the iron mask off his face and go straight to the door. "The show is over. Get out."
"Oh, come on, little brother. Let me watch, at least. I could give you some tips."
Aemond had towered over his brother, and from your seat on the bed, you were able to see the eldest brother shrinking by the moment. "This is not some common whore you're speaking of.” Aemond seethed “She is my wife, and you will owe her the respect she deserves. One more lewd word from your mouth, and I will rip your tongue with my bare hands. Am I being clear?”
"Gods, brother, are you already so cunt-struck?"
He never got an answer, only the door being slammed right into his face.
You stood in the middle of the room, torturing your hands as he looked at you from the door. He seemed unsure of what to do, until he cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps in the room.
“You could have some wine, if you wish. It may…help you.” He said, but as he said this, he seemed to regret his own words, given how his mouth twitched as if he had just tasted something sour. Memories could come just like that, sudden and sour.
“You must relax, my prince. Have some wine, maybe? No need to worry, I will take care of you just as a prince deserves to.”
“I’d like to keep my mind clear, my Prince.” You said, keeping your gaze down, hearing his fast and deep sigh. “Fine.” he said, straightening his back as a soldier. After all, wasn’t this just another duty?
It wasn’t just that though. You were his wife now, the future mother of his children. It was his duty and his right to claim you as his own.
“Lay on the bed.”
With your heart pounding in your ears, you did as you were told but when the mattress dipped under his weight, you did not expect to see him with his clothes still on, the eyepatch firmly in its place. More so, you did not expect the harshness of his gestures as he held your waist to turn you around. The air hitched in your throat as your face met the mattress and a strange sorrow gripped your heart. Did he not want to look at you? Did he not like you?
“Try to stay still and it’ll be over shortly.” he said. He was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice came out cold and flat. His fingers latched on your underskirts, hiking them up, filling you with embarrassment as you grow completely exposed beneath him.
Aemond knew what to do. He may not have been as depraved as his brother, but he was still a man. And once in a while, when his hands would not suffice, some maid or servant girl would’ve had to bear, quite keenly on their part, his intimate attentions.
As his hands began to glide on your thighs, you shivered and said “Wait…”
Slowly your head turned to look at him, cheeks red and breath slow and anxious. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”
Your words seemed to stun him for a moment. The mere thought of you wanting to look at him made him realize how wrong he was behaving. You were his wife, not a common whore to bend over and have his moment of bliss. He had even told Aegon. That was not his intention, but there was a gap between how he felt and how he acted, a limb severed by years of pity looks and feelings trapped in his mouth and swallowed.
Almost gently, he made you turn but once you were facing him, he pinned your wrists on the mattress, unable to touch him even if you had gathered enough courage to do it. You tried to brace yourself for what your mother had told you. But she had not told you that he would touch you there, that all your senses would go numb except for that one brand new feeling between your legs. But he seemed enthralled by it just as you, his mouth parting to let out slow puffs of air as you grow wet and swollen against his fingers.
Your breath was labored, coming out in soft pants that made your cheeks purple. More so because he kept circling his deft fingers on your core while looking straight into your eyes, reveling in the way you were answering to his call, in the way he was shaping your need, your desire.
“You never touched yourself, did you?” he asked in a husky voice.
You barely shook your head and his eye glinted with something dark as he brought his face close to yours “Good. I shall be the only one inside you.”
He swallowed your shaky breath with this mouth, kissing you for the very first time, apart from the shy, almost prude peck exchanged after the wedding vows. Your lips moved shyly, trembling with the coiling pressure between your legs. And just when you thought this heat, this delicious aching couldn’t grow more unbearable, he sticked a finger inside you, spilling a loud moan right against his mouth.
One of your wrists twisted in his harsh hold, willing to touch him, to grip on something, but he didn’t let you. “Easy…” he blew on your lips “Relax. It’ll feel good, I promise…”
It surely felt good to him, to feel the tightness of your cunt squeezing his finger. He curled it and you squinted your eyes, choking a gasp that made him smirk proudly against your jaw. “Gods, you’re so tight…” he breathed as he kept rubbing slowly against your walls.
“It’s—it’s too much—“ you cried out with pain and pleasure running together, breathing his scent of ash, leather and a hint of something minty.
“How will you take my cock if you can’t even take my finger?” He whispered with benevolent cruelty, moving his finger faster and deeper.
Certainly your mother had not told you of the obscene wet sounds you would hear, of the uncontrollable moans coming out of your mouth, of his soft growling next to your ear when his breeches became too tight.
He had lined the tip of his hard manhood to your entrance, catching your breath away as tried to still your nerves, but the pain came altogether. You felt like he was cutting you from the inside. Tears filled your eyes, squinting for the painful stretching. You knew he was restraining himself; he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already was. And you almost felt affection for him, most men would not have bothered.
Then he had started to move, you felt that stranger body rubbing over and over against your walls, and finally the pain soothed, but not completely. You could tell he was enjoying it, his ragged breath and faint moans told you so, as well as the curses hissed through his teeth in a language you guessed was Valyrian. And then he had stilled completely, gripping your hips hard and firm while you felt a hot wave pulsing through your core.
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The next morning, you could barely sit down for breakfast, and your aunt had looked at you with concern and a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was a veteran at court, a long-time widow, and quite happy to be so. It was her who suggested your betrothal to the Prince.
"How are you feeling, sweet niece?"
"Awful." you said promptly, shifting your weight on the seat.
"Well, this is the kind of anguish all women must go through."
"I thought that was giving birth to another human being."
"Oh Gods, no. That is the ugly part. This is the good one," she said with a sly smile "I suggest you enjoy it as much as you can."
At the time, you didn't really understand what she meant. The first night with the prince had gone...well, you thought. But he certainly enjoyed it more than you.
The second time was better. Your muscles were still sore, but the pain was but a faint discomfort compared to the pleasure you felt for the very first time in your life.
The third time he went down on you, bringing you so close to the edge only to deny your release, with cruel enjoyment on his part, making you whine with shame at the loss of his mouth and tongue on your folds.
The fourth time he bent you down on the breakfast table, all things falling in a mess of cutlery. He had pulled up your skirts and lowered his breeches just enough to thrust in, unraveling a special spot deep inside of you that had you mewling like some primitive beast.
The fifth time he had you writhing in bed, hair stuck to your head with sweat and hands clenching the sheets while he had you peak three times in a row.
It was then that you started to think your aunt was right.
That was indeed the good part.
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“Are you afraid?” he asks, with a soft taunt on the tip of his tongue. You drag your eyes away from the gigantic beast before you and almost scoff. That is enough for him to laugh, quietly, but still not quietly enough for you to not notice and wonder at the view.
It’s been merely one moon since you’ve been married to Prince Aemond, and you could count on the fingers of your hand the times you have seen him laugh. It was eerie at first, you feared all the things you heard about the One Eyed Prince were true. That he was cold as stone and just as hard. And he was. But the more you spent time together, the more you were able to make cracks, and let light through.
“I’m equally afraid as any little mortal of right mind would be in front of the largest dragon in the known world, my dear husband.”
His lips stay quirked up, but his eye widens, as it always does when you call him that. He steps close to you, a few of his long strides are enough for him to tower over you, and the ground below your feet shifts.
“Come.” He says, taking your hand, “I promise she won’t eat you.” This time you deliberately glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some other kind of persuasion to trust me? Perhaps like the one I used this morning?”
The early afternoon sun makes his face almost hurting to watch, or maybe it's just his bold gloating that makes his appearance so exhausting.
“That was not persuasion.” you remark, hiding the tinge of red on your cheeks “It was coercion.”
“Hmm. You didn’t seem so hostile when I made you come twice before breakfast.”
"I was hostile to the chance of the maid assisting with what we were doing."
"The maid should know better than to enter while my wife is undressing."
His eye roams over you just as he had done that morning, hunger clouding it, making your insides shrink. "Perhaps it's best if she knew. Someone must be aware of how cruel my husband is." there's a soft tease in your tone—something you are still learning, but true nonetheless.
He had ripped your nightgown with his bare hands when the maid entered to help you dress. She fled hastily, but you barely spared a glance at her, already lost to the fierce claim of his hand between your legs. He had taken you, twice, and then ordered you to dress, forcing you to have breakfast with the Queen and the Princess with your thighs still sticky with sex, sticky with him.
And he had been there, sitting just in front of you, with a piercing and delighted gaze.
He pulls your hand, and you follow, getting closer to that living relic that is Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons. She raises her monstrous head and looks straight at you with her amber eyes.
It is the first time you step so close to her, and even if you thought about it a lot, your heart is pounding fast, and your breath comes out slow and labored. She's a dreadful wonder.
She flares her nostrils and smells you, making a low rumble which results in a gust of hot wind that ruffles your hair and skirts.
“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond says quietly “Issa ñuha ābrazȳrys. Kostā pāsagon zirȳla.”
You look at him questioningly, and he answers. “I told her you are my wife. And she can trust you.”
You cast a curious look at the dragon and then back at him “Is that all it takes? You tell dragons to trust you, and they resist the urge to turn you into their meal?”
Aemond curves his lips and makes you step closer, standing behind you and guiding your hand on the old green scales. “It takes much more than that.” he whispers in your ear “You have to surrender to them, completely. A dragon is no slave.”
You feel the heat beneath your palm, but it’s not that that makes you swallow; it’s the heat of his breath on your neck, right into your ear, scorching his way into your brain and inflaming every thought.
“What does Lykirī mean?” you ask, and you hate how your voice cracks on the edges.
He smirks because he knows, he always does. But he does not answer. Instead, he pulls your hand again, and you follow, circling the beast until stopping before the intricate ropes that lead to the saddle.
“Aemond, I don’t think—”
“You are my wife and you will ride with me on dragon back.” He said, commanding.
Truthfully, you gladly want to obey; there is just a slight difference between picturing riding a dragon and doing it.
Even the climbing to get in the saddle is a challenge on its own, but he helps you until you firmly seat yourself in it. Aemond sits behind you, and you look around with widened eyes, as if you are looking down from the highest tower ever built, except this is a living one, made of fire and breathing fire.
He leans over you to grab the reins, and you tense, waiting with bathed breath.
“Dohaeras, Vhagar. Soves!”
She lets out a loud screech that makes your ears hurt, but you have no time to even register it because she's already moving. You grip Aemond’s arms and brace yourself against his chest when Vhagar lurches onward and opens her huge wings to take flight.
She goes up and up, above the clouds, and your head is dizzy, with fear, with euphoria, until you are laughing like a child, like you never did in your entire life. Aemond lets go of the reins and laces his arms around you, angling his head to look at you, his silver hair violently ruffled by the wind. “How does it feel, my sweet wife?”
There are no common words to describe it. Now you know why they say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. No man could claim a dragon or rule the skies.
“I feel like I’m close to the Gods.” you say, and he tightens the hold on you “Dragons do not answer to Gods.” he says, burying his nose in your hair “Where does this leave us?”
You turn your head to look at him, and you feel like you are looking at one of them. And yet he looks like he’s beyond any God.
“Above them. Above the Gods.”
“Hmm.” He croons, breathing your scent through his nose, and then his right hand grabs your skirt and dips underneath, until you feel his cold fingers grazing your skin. “I will make you feel like one.”
He cups your core through your small clothes, and you whimper, gripping his arm harder. He feels your heat through his palm, hotter than Vhagar’s own fire, and he sets the fabric aside to properly touch you. “My sweet wife.” he whispers, sliding a finger between your folds “Always so ready for me.”
“Aemond.” You say, holding your breath, trying to oppose but your voice cracks, and your body with it, already answering to his call. You see clouds before your eyes, but it’s all a blur, all your senses are enslaved by his touch, rubbing lazy circles on your bud. Too slow for your liking, for your need. Your hips arch and buck, chasing his hand for more friction, and he laughs, darkly. “What is it? What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me.”
He takes your chin with his free hand and forces you to turn your head and look at him. His hold is ruthless, but his tone is almost pleading. “Tell me.” he orders and you feel like he’s smothering you, sweeping away all the air from your lungs. “I-I need more…”
“More of what?” he asks, stopping altogether. “Show me.”
You look him in the eye and swallow, heat inflaming your cheeks, but there’s no place for shame, not here. It is just a faint ghost passing through you, and then it’s gone. Your hand pulls the gown up, and you place it on his, like a feather. “Here.” You breathe on his mouth “Inside.”
The howling wind does nothing to muffle his growl, and then he’s kissing you, harshly, teeth clashing and biting your lips as he accepts your plea, sliding a finger inside of you.
A strangled moan escapes you, and he swallows it, darting his tongue in every corner of your mouth. He releases your chin only to grab your leg to further open them and then he adds a second finger, moving them deftly until reaching that special spot. Your head falls back on his shoulder, gasping loudly, digging your nails into his hand.
Your breath is ragged and fast, and you uselessly try to stifle moan after moan even if there are only the skies to hear.
“Don’t.” he says grazing your lobe with his teeth “I want to hear you. I want you to scream for me.”
Your mind goes blank, as does all your restraint. You feel the tide coming to crash you, hips moving on their own accord, chasing and chasing. And then you’re drowning in it, mouth falling open and flesh and bones clenching and trembling.
He grunts softly when your nails scratch his skin and his fingers slip out, glistening; he raises them to his lips and tastes every drop of you. Still panting, he takes your chin once more with his sticky fingers and licks your lips, so you taste yourself on his tongue.
Your head is still dizzy when Vhagar lands in a clearing in the King’s Wood, but this has nothing to do with altitude. Your limbs are heavy when he helps you dismount, your legs buckle. There is a tautness knotting your bones, itching your fingertips.
You wish to touch him, because you have never, not as a wife would touch her husband, not as he has done with you.
It is only a moon and yet he has taken you almost every night and every day. He has touched you everywhere, he has molded you to his liking, and you let him do it with giddiness, undoing yourself like clay in his hands. He had put his mouth on you, and you have discovered he particularly enjoyed it, because he has done that at the most inopportune times, even in some dark corner of the corridors.
And you wondered if you could do the same with him—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to claim him just as he claims you, relentlessly.
And he really is. He is relentless, he doesn't give you the time to wander with your hands, to discover, to touch. Fire burns him quickly and you are ashes before you realise you are burning with him.
“I didn’t know my wife had claws.” He says at one point, while you are going back to the Keep.
You wake from your thoughts and turn, watching him raise his hand to show the red marks on the back of his hand, and the sight makes you almost proud—proud to have left a mark of you on him. But you want more, and he wants more. You know it; it takes a brief look at his breeches to know that he wants more.
You dart your eyes around, but there's no one. So, you stop. Trying to gather all the boldness you never had, you step closer to him and take his hand in yours. Your eyes look up slowly, glinting with uncertainty and bravery. "Then let me soothe your pain, husband."
Aemond’s eye widens, and the air around you turn heavy, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. You take one more step and bring the back of his hand to your lips, kissing it gently while your eyes stay fixed on his face. The other hand goes tentatively to his chest and then slides down, and for once, just once, he’s the one answering your call. His eye darkens and his lips part when your hands bashfully grab the laces of his breeches.
But you should have known better. Targaryens and their desires. Doomed to take whatever they want, whenever they want, answering neither Gods nor men.
You barely blink and he grabs you by the wrists and forces you to the ground. Cold grass and bushes stinging your back make you gasp, but Aemond is already on you, watching you like a century-long thirsted man who takes a glimpse of a water spring, as if you could evaporate from his sight at any moment.
“Aemond, please.” you beg “let me—“
But his tongue is in your mouth, hot and scorching you alive. Your eyes flutter shut, and he hikes your skirts up, taking hold of your hips. You feel his bulge against you, hard and ready, and you can do nothing else than wait, pinned down like prey, all bravery a distant memory.
Suddenly he lowers himself down, lifting your skirts with haste until you’re completely bare half down. “No—Aemond, please I want to—”
“You want what?” he asks with a wolfish grin “Deny me your sweet taste? Iksā ñuhon, ābrazȳrys.” He said that already, you know what it means. You are mine.
“You belong to me. And this…” he swears placing your legs on his shoulders while looking at your aching core as a man who found the greatest treasure in the world. “This belongs to me as well.”
He runs his tongue up and down your wet folds, humming with delight as he tastes you and sees you squirm, arching your back on the stingy bushes. You moan loudly when he slowly swirls his tongue, not able to keep track of your hips starting  to move on their own, thrusting into his mouth and the sight of you like this, makes him even wilder, pushing him to open his mouth and put it entirely on your cunt, sucking harshly until anything before your eyes becomes blurred.
Your legs on his shoulders begin to shake and curl, caging him further against you, but just when you are about to come straight into his mouth, he pulls back. A weak sob leaves your mouth as your hips keep bucking against nothing and he smirks at that, untangling your legs from his shoulders, running his tongue over his lips, to taste what's left of you on him. You look at him through dazed eyes and a tinge of annoyance for the denied release. “What?” he has the boldness to ask with a sly smirk “Did you not enjoy it?” he runs his thumb on his glistening chin and swiftly licks it. "Hmm. I most certainly did."
“Aemond, please.” you claw desperately at his shoulders and forearms, forcing him to lie on you, feel something that could soothe the aching between your legs. He seems keen to grant you this mercy, molding his crotch against you so you can feel how hard and desperate he is.
“Please.” you beg in a thin voice.
“Speak it plainly, my love. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”
You look at him straight in the eye and what you say next is not a request nor a plea. Your mother would be ashamed of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
You are not begging. You are demanding. “Fuck me.”
He doesn’t need more than a few moments to get his cock out of his breeches, and not a moment later he’s pushing inside of you, your back arching on the bushes and your throat fighting for breath. He groans and starts a relentless pace, lifting his weight from you just enough for him to look at his cock going in and out, the sight only pushing him to thrust harder and harder. “Look at you.” he croons, sweet and rough “You were born to take me, to be mine.”
Your face twists with pleasure, teeth biting your lower lip while he takes you higher and higher, higher than any sky a dragon could ever take you.
He soon becomes messy and sloppy, cursing under his breath, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is sluggish and everything comes muffled: him, the birds chirping on some tree, your wet flesh slapping against his in the lewdest and most blessed way.
He curses some more, and then he’s spilling inside you, his arched mouth opening and his eye closing like a man absolved.
And yet, he does not stop. He has not claimed enough.
“Māzis, dōna ābrazȳrys. Come for me.”
Your hand clutches something on the ground, something with thorns that pierces your skin with pain, but you can’t even feel that, because you are falling, legs trembling around him, and heart stopping for an endless moment of pure breathtaking bliss.
“Gevie.” he coos with his lips on yours, falling with his body on you, still clenching and pulsing around him. He stays right where he is, nesting inside of you, and now it is the only chance you have been granted to touch him. You put an arm around his shoulders, catching your breath, and look at the skies above, thinking you are indeed above them.
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It was easy to explain the dirt and grass stains on your dress. It was a little less easy to explain the twigs in your ruffled hair when you and Aemond returned to the Keep only to meet the Queen Mother along one of the corridors. Alicent merely smiled at you with a tight smile and did not spare from giving a look full of daggers to her son.
"Seven Hells" you mutter when you go back to your rooms and catch a glimpse of the mess you are in the mirror.
Aemond stays on the threshold to close the door and grins, or rather, gloats.
You step out of your muddy shoes and start to pull the laces of your dress.
"What are you doing?" he asks, and you playfully glare at him. "Am I allowed to take a bath now? Or do you want me to go around all sullied? I fear there are no believable excuses for the state I’m in."
"You can tell them the truth." he says, walking to you and replacing your hands with his to help you pull the intricate laces.
You smile softly with your back turned before raising an eyebrow, asking "Which is?"
He keeps his eye focused on the dress, a slight furrow in his brow, and stoically serious, he says "That your husband fucked you in the King's Wood."
"I could tell the maid. I'm sure she won't be stunned after what she saw this morning."
He makes you turn so you can look at him, and the sight before you makes your heart sing. His eye roams on your face softly, a rare sight on him, always stoic, always sharp, like all the angles composing this beautiful sculpture of black glass.
You always thought of marriage as a strategic deal for men, and a way for women to prove their value to the world, giving those same men sons and daughters. But you care for him. And he cares for you. That look on his face is enough for you to know that he cares for you, not merely as a brood mare.
“Gevie.” he says, quietly, and he touches your cheek, softly, making you wonder how those same hands can be so delicate and yet so merciless at the same time.
“What does it mean?” you ask, even if you are sure he will not answer. You observed that when he speaks in High Valyrian he does it almost to himself, as if to protect something he does not wish the others to know.
But this time, he meets your eyes and lowers his hand. “Beautiful.”
You look at him with your heart pounding in your throat, and then you stand up on your toes, crashing your mouth against his, almost catching him by surprise. But he is all too deft at turning the game on his side, and a few seconds later, his hands are gripping your hips and his tongue is licking the roof of your mouth.
When the door suddenly opens, you pull back, spotting the same maid from that morning who, this time, can do nothing but suffer the Prince's wrath.
"Can't you just fuck off for once?!"
You hold back a laugh against his chest and the poor maid flees in a hurry. But when he pulls you to him, tilting his head to pick up where he left off, you step back and say, "I'm afraid the Queen has requested your presence. You should go, my dear husband. I promise that by tonight I will be completely clean."
"Tonight?" he asks, raising his eyebrow. "What is happening tonight?"
You shrug your shoulders and hold back a smile. "Innocence doesn't suit you, my Prince."
"Neither does you."
"I'm afraid this is your fault. You are sullying my soul as well as...everything else."
"You won't be of the same mind when you have my child growing in your womb," and he smirks, looking at you as if he's taking a sacred oath, and then walks away.
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You finally manage to take a bath and change clothes, and then you go to visit your aunt. She spends most of her time alone, sipping tea in the gardens, partly because she can't stand the other court ladies, partly because the court ladies can't stand her. Truthfully, you cannot blame them, your aunt speaks plainly—too plainly at times.
You sit down with her for tea, which you end up swallowing like salt, because your aunt takes it with a whole squeezed lemon, and no sugar.
"I saw you with your husband earlier. I may be too old for new fashion but mud on your skirt and twigs in your hair seem a bit too brazen, even for me."
You stifle a smile, recalling what happened. If only she knew he was brazen enough to have you utterly undone on dragon back, thousands of feet up.
Your eyes go distant while you fumble with some tablecloth threads, but your Aunt stares at you piercely, and grabbing her cup of tea she says "I love that look on you."
"What?"
She sips the sour liquid and puts the cup down. "That look. The I'm in love look."
"I am not!" you counter, cheeks going red.
"Of course you are. I've watched you two. I dare say he's falling way faster than you."
You look at her puzzled. Many things have changed in a moon. And you are sure you are utterly infatuated with him. But you did not know what to think of what he actually feels for you, if he even feels something. You know he cares for you, you know he loves spending time with you. You know he's passionate, possessive, almost soft at rare times. But in love? That seems too soon to consider, or to hope for.
"It is too soon to talk about love."
"In fact, I did not, my sweet niece. Falling in love and love are beasts of different species. Why do you think we say "falling"? You can't stop from falling. To love a person is an entirely different matter. Love is a choice."
You let those words sink but you prefer not to question your heart right now. There is a reason you have come here to talk to your aunt, even if you don't know how to address the matter without melting from embarrassment.
But in the end, who could you ask for advice? Your squeamish maids? The Queen Mother? Definitely not.
"Listen, I...I wanted to ask you something..." you start "It is uhm...a matter of somewhat intimate nature."
"Ah, my favourites." your aunt says, beaming "I am all ears."
You shift uncomfortably in your chair and swallow another sip of that dreadful tea "My mother...she explained to me what would happen between husband and wife to...consummate the marriage. But she didn't tell me...well, everything else."
Your Aunt is quick to raise her eyebrow "I gathered that your marriage had been consummated by now. Thoroughly."
"Y-yes, of course. But I...discovered...that there are other ways for a husband to please his wife...and I was wondering if...if I could…do those same things to please him."
Your aunt looks utterly puzzled for a long moment, and then, almost stunned, she says "Oh Seven Hells, child. You are telling me you never sucked your husband off?"
A few court ladies walking near turned their heads, going white as sheets, while you, on the contrary, take a nice purple shade.
"Oh, don't look at me like that, prissies. We all did it eventually." she dismisses them, waving a lazy hand, and looks back at you. "You should do it, if you wish. Men love it. Your uncle used to ask—"
"I don't want to hear that, auntie, I'm begging you." you say squinting your eyes.
"Listen to me, child. Men love to think they rule everything, everywhere. But it is not always like that. And if you want to rule your husband's heart, you must rule in his bed first."
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That evening, Aemond wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with his wife and forget all the hateful political talk he had had to endure at dinner.
You had not attended, and that had bothered him. Never would he have thought of marriage as anything more than a duty, yet there he was, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you weren't in his rooms when he set foot in there.
"Where is my wife?" he asks the maid, and she keeps her eyes glued to the floor, saying "The princess spent the evening in the library, your Grace. She told me that she would be—"
"I am here," you say, appearing behind the young maid.
You see his chest sag as if a weight is leaving him, and he casts an icy glance at the poor maid "Out."
He is rarely kind to servants, but you can tell by his tense shoulders that something is wrong.
"Aemond, what is the matter?" you ask as soon as the door closes, walking up to him with a hand behind your back.
"Where were you? Why weren't you at dinner?"
"I was in the library."
"For four hours?"
"It was a tough read—"
He grabs your arm, gripping hour wrist harshly, and you flinch. "Aemond, I swear to you.” you say watching his eye on fire and a sneer twisting his mouth “You can ask Maester Mellos." 
Suddenly he lets you go, and looks down, closing his eye for a moment. But he doesn't apologize, he never does, and not because he is a Prince. It's just the way he is. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't say thank you, he doesn't say please.
"Aemond, what's going on?"
"I don't want to talk about it now. In fact, never. Not here."
You watch him carefully, and you nod as he moves to pour wine into a cup. You watch him gobble it up greedily, which is unlike him. So, you get close and move your hand from behind your back and say, "Anyway, I wasn't lying. I really spent four hours in the library...trying to decipher this."
You show him an old book, and the title catches his eye, cup held in midair. "Tales of the Dragonlords?" he asks frowning. "This is in High Valyrian."
"It is." you confirm as you move closer, and you steal his cup before saying, "Would you read it to me?" and you take a sip, of wine and courage.
He watches the liquid flow down your throat and then accepts the invitation, taking the book—the one he has read so many times he can recite it by heart. He opens it to the first page, but you say "No. Page 72."
There is a slight imperative tone in your tone of voice, and it thrills him, given how his eye glints under the candlelight. He drops it on the table, looking at you from head to toe, and says, "I'll read it to you later, sweet wife."
He steps closer but you back away saying, "Fine, then. I'll tell you what I understood so you can correct me or not." and at the same moment your own hands go up on your corset and you start pulling on the laces.
The gesture catches his eye like a moth to a flame and he stays silent as you pull all the laces and then slip off your dress, remaining in your underskirt. His gaze roams over you slowly, and with a soft smirk, he decides to play the game.
“Page 72, you said. How Dragonlords claimed Dragons.”
“Yes.”
"And why did it capture your interest? Do you wish to do it? Do you wish to claim a dragon?"
"I wish to conquer, not claim."
He comes closer and looks at you, breathing through his nose, restraining, always restraining, and then he's raising his hand to reach a lock of your hair falling on your shoulder, but you stop him, air as heavy as moss.
"The Valyrian sages say a dragonlord must surrender himself completely to the dragon. But it works both ways. The dragon must submit his will to their rider."
He looks at you without blinking, and you take his arms, guiding him closer until you turn and push him lightly on the bed. He sits and you slowly climb on his lap, knees caging his hips, heart is pounding in your throat like a hammer. You hear him taking a swift breath and pride pools in your bones because for once you have caught him off guard.
You can feel his crotch hardening by the moment, but the look on his face is not one of hunger or lust. It is pure and blessed devotion.
You wonder at the view, and your eyes roam on his face until...
"Can I take it off?"
There's no need to say what. His face goes hard as stone, eye looking away with discomfort, with shame.
"Please, Aemond." you whisper. "I want to see all of you. I want you to bare yourself to me as I did to you."
"It is not pleasant."
"I don't want pleasantness. I want you."
He stares at you for an eternal moment and then he caves.
A flash of sparkling blue catches you completely and you can do nothing but watch with lips parted, while he keeps his eye down.
You wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head against his to breathe one single word in his ear. "Gevie."
His arms are all around you, holding you so tight you might gasp for air. Instead you are smiling, breathing through his long silver hair. You are not sure if you aunt is right, if love is indeed a choice. You can't bring yourself to care because you are doing it already.
And then he's kissing you, seizing your tongue with his in a fierce consuming way. He slightly hikes up your hips, and his hand tries to slide between your legs, but you lace your fingers around his wrist, breaking the kiss with panted breath.
"No." you whisper, and he looks at you almost questioningly, mouth open and chest heaving.
"Lykirī."
His eye widens and you smile, secretly. "I know what it means now."
He smirks at this and does not miss the chance to be the ever diligent scholar. "But you said it wrong. The R is hard."
“Lykirī.” You say again, following his lesson, and in the same moment your hand leaves his wrist and goes down to his breeches. He dips his chin to look at it, at your hands unsure, and he too looks unsure.
“You don’t have to—“
“I want to.” You say, and your voice comes out firm and clear. “Please, Aemond. Let me…let me touch you.”
He realizes now that in all the times you have been lying together, you never managed to lay a hand on him. He likes to keep people at distance. Too many wrong hands have been on him. The Maesters’, inspecting, debating, healing without healing. That whore, taking what it was not hers to take, not yet.
But he wants you to touch him. He has dreamed of it, in any way a man could dream of a woman’s touch.
He looks at you for a moment, chest rising slowly, and then, without taking his eye off you, he pulls the laces of his breeches and guides your hand around his cock. You look down, exhaling a long breath at feeling his hard and hot flesh already pulsing.
He knows you don’t know how to do it, so his hands guide you at first, going slowly up and down, and the air comes out of his mouth slowly and labored. You look up at him, his eye is pitch black, lid growing heavy with pleasure, and your core clenches, desire pools in your belly and flows down.
He must hear the call of your body, because he releases your hand, still stroking him, and goes right between your legs. You gasp loudly, and he hums, delight dripping from his voice just as you are dripping on his fingers. He starts to pump his fingers and you can do nothing but moan, clutching his shoulders with your free hand, the other still around his cock, but the act is growing lazy, your mind can’t focus properly on what you are supposed to do.
“Listen.” he orders you, fingers moving faster and faster, and you do listen. Your soaked flesh coming undone at his scorching touch. “Who else has you like this?”
But this is a question he’s asking himself. Because no one else will ever have him bare like this.
“You. Just you.” you say hoarsely, eyes closing and hips rocking on their own accord.
“And who am I?” he whispers just as hoarsely, and yet his voice is like a whip on all your senses.
“My husband.” you cry, feeling the wave ready to drown you “Ñuha zaldrīzes.” My dragon.
You cannot care less about how you said it, because then your mouth falls open, nails digging into his shoulder while your trembling hips keep riding his fingers, clenching them like a vice.
Your head falls onward, leaning against his forehead, and you try to catch your breath. You watch his wet fingers go straight into his mouth while he looks at you, humming with pleasure. “You look so pretty like this.” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips “I should fuck you in Throne Room with the whole court watching, so they know how pretty you are when you come for me.”
You laugh with your cheeks flushing, and he slides an arm around you, and you know he wants to pin you down on the bed and fuck you until you are muffling nonsense in the pillow. But this is not his game. This is yours, and even if you don’t know how to play, you will win.
“No.” you say, climbing down from his lap, and he looks at you with hunger and a tinge of thrilling curiosity. “It is my turn to claim.” You say with all the bravery you possess.
Not a moment later, you are going down on your knees.
Another small victory, because his eye widens as he had never done before, and you can see that this, the sight of you on your knees before him, is something he has been craving for, even dreamed of it.
His breathing is slow, and you are not even touching him.
You place yourself between his knees and you lean closer and closer, anxiety twisting your insides, but you want to do this. “Lykirī, nuha zaldrīzes. Surrender.” you take him into your hand, tugging slowly, and your lips linger on the tip, heart pounding in your ears and eyes fixed on him. “Lykirī.” You say one last time and then you are swallowing him.
He hisses loudly and his lips part, hands clutching the covers until his knuckles go white. He’s like burning metal inside your mouth—hot and hard. At first, you just taste him, running your tongue over the head, and he’s cursing under his breath. His hands twitch on the covers, restraining and restraining, but there’s no need. You take his hand while looking at him and you release it from your mouth to say “Teach me.”
It’s like you have just poured fire on more fire. His eye goes wild, he takes hold of your head and starts to guide you again, making your mouth engulf him once more and deep down to the base and then up to the tip again, filling the room with a wet gagging sound. You get the gist of what you’re supposed to do, so your head starts going up and down and up and down, and he actually moans for you, head falling back for just a moment before looking back, he can’t help but watch as you fiercely claim him.
You watch his chest heaving fast and your jaw is starting to hurt but you don't care, you are too absorbed by the view before you. You are too thrilled by the fact that, for once, you have made him speechless.
He's always so bold in the bedroom, so cruel in deciding when and how to give pleasure, and now he's utterly speechless. He can only curse without breath, and gasp and groan.
“Kelītīs.” he manages to say at one point, voice all husky and cracking. You don’t know that word, and you have no time to ask because in a blink, he’s slamming you onto the bed and he’s hiking up your skirt, but you get on your elbows pushing him on his back and climbing on him.
“I’m not done, valzȳrys.” you say feeling his hard length inflaming your core, so you lay your hips on it as firmly as possible. “I claimed, but I did not conquer.”
“You are fucking torturing me.” he points out, bucking against you.
“Conquests could last for centuries, dear husband. You above all should know that.”
“All I know now is that I need to fuck you.” he says placing both hands on the sheets to pull himself up.
“No, I will.” you promise, rocking your hips once more “This is my conquest, not yours.”
You keep rubbing your drenched core on his length until a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he's so hard he's leaking from the tip. "You are twisted, wife." he says with a dazed tone and you smile even if you can't take it anymore, but you rock some more, saying "I'm a quick study. And I'm learning from the best."
Finally, when you are so wet you are dripping on him, you raise just enough to slide his cock inside of you.
You gasp together and you brace on his shoulders to start moving. You both know you are not going to last long, so you start rocking your hips slowly, taking him to the hilt until you struggle for air.
“Move…” he orders but you just take the opposite road, slowing your hips in a delicious torturing way. “Do you know what else the Sages said? A rider must know their mount, feel their heat below them.”
But Aemond does not have a single drop of blood in his head right now to give you an answer, let alone play your game; he's just fire that burns and burns and burns and just like the Sages said, you can feel his heat, burning below and inside you. He grips your hips and starts to thrust inside you like the wild beast you are supposedly claiming, until you are moaning so loud your throat hurts.
“Yes—” he growls as you bounce on him “Just like that—you’re gripping me so well—fuck"
You both turn sloppy, a mess of sweaty limbs and teeth biting, clutching at each other with bruising grips, pulling at the roots of his hair when you’re about to fall from the highest sky.
"Come on, my sweet girl. Let go for me." he breathes into your mouth, forcing you to move even faster "Let go fro your dragon. Seal your conquest." And you do.
He follows right after, spilling inside while digging his teeth into your neck like fangs on a prey, muffling his loud groaning.
And you are smiling like a fool, a lovestruck fool, but most of all, a conqueror. 
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Thank you so much for reading!! 💞💞
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ridingthatd · 6 months
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₊˚‧₊˚. SUKUNAS DESIRES
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₊˚‧₊˚. sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, sukunas little whore, sukuna being nasty, its really nasty
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who thought you'll be stuck, in a snow storm, no where to go other then a obendent cabin that can barely keep you warm, freezing to death with your master- the master you despise the most, the one who you can't even look at without have an urge to punch the shit out of him, it's not like he was annoying or talkative-
it's just he was bossy- bossy without even trying to be, for some reason everyone seem to follow what he says without a second thought. at the same time you can't blame them after all he's the one and only- the king of curses, the man who lived for hundred, and thousands of years. it annoys you that no one can do anything to stop him or even as much as think about stopping him because this is how much fear he holds against everyone, he took over your little village, shredded everyone into pieces just because. shredded your soon to be husband just because.
yet here you are sitting on the cold wooden floor, bones shaking, just because your stupid ass decided to go out look for a special kind of plant- so you can make money, since you're barely surviving with the amount you have right now, but that isn't what bothers you- what bothers you is sukuna who decided to follow you just because.
who decided to lead you into a cabin since he can sense a storm coming just because. you take a glance at the man who's sitting at the opposite side of you, legs and four of his arms folded, eyes closed, you glare a him, why is he even here.
"quit glaring at me little human" sukuna growls out, clearly not happy about the way you're staring at him. he open all of his eyes to stare at your shakey figure and he frowns.
"do all human get this cold easily?" he says horsely his voice is harsh- maybe it's because you rarely hear him talk, all he needs to do is glance at anyone and this would do the talk for him. you stop yourself from rolling your eyes, he's probably here to watch you freeze to death, finding it entertaining to watch you die. but his next words had you widening your eyes that they might fall out.
"or is it just my delicate little flower?" sukuna causally speaks out, as if those words are not surprising- like he's used to saying it. he raises his eye brows at your shocked expression clearly not catching on what's so amusing.
he lazily trail his eyes up-down your trembling body, before his four arms open, he uses two of his arms to slowly un handle his kimono rob, and let it fall losely around his hips- only exposing his upper half.
you stare at him dumfounded, but horrified at the same from how big his body is- he had huge board shoulders, muscles ripping every part of him, you can't help but stare at his perky pinkish-red nipples, slowly trailing your eyes down to his hairless body, you were used to man having chest hair- but he did have a hair trail connecting his belly button down to the v line of his lower body.
sukuna keep his four arms open toward you as he huskly speak out-
"get over here foolish little human" this is why his arms were spread out, inviting you to his shirtless warm embrace.
"are you going to get your pretty ass here human or do you wish to freeze to death?" he tsk at you, clearly not happy about you making him wait- the gears in your brain turn around and you think about the situation you're in- you were few minutes away from becoming a frozen dead body so you clearly had no other option then to take the king of curses offer.
you slowly crawl your way to him, on all fours to cold to stand up- but what you didn't realize is that, it brought pleasure to sukunas brain, his two cocks spring out proudly, he peers down at you, looking so submissive crawling on all fours to get to him, your full round ass peeking out, swaying as you make your way toward him.
once you get close enough, sukuna stretch his two arms to reach you and place you directly on his erection- but you were to innocent to know what they were- while the other two arms tug you into his chest, just to envelope you in his kimono and tie his rob again.
you sit here to stif not knowing what to do because your whole body was pressed against his warm one, you can feel his perky nipples brush against your own, which make them intentionally harden to.
sukuna is enjoying this so much- so much that his cocks throb, twitch, leak, he couldn't help the purring that left his chest. you clearly feel him purring because your face is completely pressed against his neck, to your surprise it doesn't scare you- to your surprise it does nothing but relax you.
the blowing wind hitting against the windows of the cabin, the warmth of sukunas chest and the two warm things throbbing and twitching behind your thighs, seem to make you lose focus, slowly drifting into drowsiness, can't help but snuggle your face deeper into his neck- taking a deep breath of his smell, you can't help it when you take a glance at his perky nipples they looked so suckable so you leaned in sucking gently on one of them,- to your surprise it only makes sukuna growl and purr louder, so you back off staring at the string of spit you left and you give your attention to his other nipple.
you can feel two of sukunas hands gently stroking your hair, and down your spine, while the other two make their way toward your huge thighs, and plumpy perky ass, you let out a small whine once you feel sukuna grip your ass hard.
"shhh my little human, let your master keep you warm" he coo at you his other two arms still gently petting you, you intentionally move your ass toward his ragging cocks, and sukuna growls gently take your ear between his teeth, biting and sucking on it.
you didn't know why but you felt wet, and tingly down there, so bothered like you wanted some relief, so you start rubbing your thighs together for some fraction-
"feeling needy my little pet? is your sweet little cunt feeling empty?" he whispers darkly in your ear, you suddenly feel one of the warm things that was twitching on your thighs, brush against your tingly wet cunt- you whimper it felt so good that out of relfex you started rubbing on it, liking the feeling of how it was throbbing on your cunt.
sukuna let out a groan as his other cock start rubbing on your ass, while the other was being dry humped by your wet pussy, he can smell your strong arousal and it was driving him crazy- he was drunk on it as his hands trail up your kimono and find your drenched panties.
"i- i need to pee master" you embarrassingly mutter out, not being able to continue the feeling, not wanting to pee on the king of curses.
sukuna chuckles at how innocent you were, of curse at such lowly village they didn't teach woman about sex, they only teached the most important part about it, but they didn't tell you about orgasms, or about how good it felt.
he harshly rips your kimono open and throw it somewhere, leaving you only with your panties on, he stares at your nipples hungrily wanting to feel the hard bud against his tongue so he does, he takes one fat nipples into his mouth while his other hand knead at your other nipple.
you still and moan out, eyes rolling at the new sensation, thighs shaking, arching your chest against his face.
sukuna moans as he feels your wet juice drip down to his clothed cock. "aha you dirty little human, did you cum just from getting your nipples sucked? did you cum on your masters cock?".
you were to out of it, to even make out what he said, but sukuna didn't care as he tug his two throbbing, leaking cock out, stroaking them both together, groaning and growling at the sight of you so fucked out.
"Will you let me give the curses a queen, then?" Slowly, maddeningly slowly, he began to prod that cockhead into your folds.
an animalistic growl left the king of curses clearly getting off at the idea, he can spill his seeds in you, from the idea of having you as his, his queen. "sit on your throne, my queen."
and with that, sukuna forcefully impaled you on both his cocks so hard that you blacked out.
you startled awake, feeling intense pain and pleasure, feeling so stuffed that you can't breath- then you snap out whimpering and whinning, as you look around eyes half opened you can see, sukunas face- but he looked more animalistic then he did before, growling and groaning as he lean in to suck on your bouncing boobs. wet clapping noises filled the cabin, as sukuna tug you up and down his cock, filling you with not one cock- but both of them at the same time.
he can't help but roll his eyes from pleasure, as he takes a glance at your stretched out cunt, so red, so puffy, so tight, gripping so hard into his cocks as he plug them in.
"look at you! look at you taking my cock- no both of them, my beautiful fuck toy, created for the purpose of pleasing me!”"he growls out, the only sounds were his groans that were drowned by the sound of his cock being clenched tightly around your cunt, by your juice spilling out and coating his cocks, while his balls smacked on your asshole. 
“my queen's job is to obey me and to give me heirs… so when your king says cum for him, my queen had better cream all over my fucking cock, do you understand me?”
you screamed in this snow storm, knowing no one will be able to rescue you from the beasts cocks of his, that are tearing through you, ripping you apart as they rip an Orgasm out of you, making you squirt all over him, coating his kimono with your sweet honey.
"cum again hard now", came the low growl of a whisper.
you didn't know what came over you, you wanted to be submissive to him, you wanted to please him, you gave Sukuna exactly what he wanted. you squirted all over his cock again, it made a loud embarrassingly wet noise, the power of your orgasm was made more intense by the fact that the king of curses didn't slow down his inhumane thrusts into your very abused cunt… if anything, he began yanking into you harder, faster. 
there was an insane glint in his eyes, and with every thrust he made sukuna’s growls and grunts began to turn into laughter. 
cruel laughter, pure evil, like he was given the thing he wanted the most in this world.
then he filled you, his cum filling you so deep that you black out again, this time you didn't wake up in the cabin but in a bed whom belongs to the one and only- the king of curses.
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₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚
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Text
To Feel At Home
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Winnowing out from Under the Mountain, you know you need to find him—it doesn't seem real, to feel so at home.
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: Angst
a/n: A little angsty piece because I can't stop writing for some reason. I hope you enjoy :)
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
On shaking legs, you pressed forward. Rhysand was still at the Moonstone Palace—still in Mor’s arms and coping with the impossible. You had made to stay, but Mor had given you a shake of her head that conveyed more than any words could have.
Mustering up the morsel of power that had returned to you after Amarantha’s death, you winnowed to Velaris. 
Not in a good spot. You hadn’t had access to your power in over five decades and much of Rhysand’s wards were still in place. Given the circumstances, getting yourself to some random alley at the edge of Velaris was a feat. 
The sun was blinding, invading your senses that had gotten so used to the darkness Under the Mountain. You brought a hand up to cover your eyes and trekked on.
No more winnowing. 
You had tried—it hadn’t worked. 
As you walked, stumbling through families taking strolls and having normal days, you searched within you for that golden thread. It had been absent for longer than it had been alive, your time as mates barely reaching a decade before your disappearance. 
You sifted through the pain and grief and loneliness, desperate for the relief you would find once you felt the weight of him. 
Nothing yet. 
He had to know things had changed Under the Mountain. Even amidst the secrecy and the hiding, you knew he would check.  His shadows would cross continents to find you. 
But—you stressed, as you made it to a main road lined with cobblestones—that could mean he went there. Azriel could be under that mountain at this very moment, searching through the fae still sorting out their lives before they went home. 
And you were here. 
You had no reason to panic. 
You were home, safe, alive; you had more reason to feel at peace than you had in the last 50 years. But if Azriel wasn’t here… 
Your breath came out in short pants as your fingers found purchase on a wall. But you kept going, kept watching your feet as they stumbled past each other, just to have the chance of seeing him. 
There were no shadows yet. 
They always found you first. 
You weren't sure how much time had passed—seconds, minutes, hours all lost their meaning under Amarantha—but the shadow of the mountain that held your home was soon cast over your body. You gasped out uneven breaths and pressed a hand to the towering figure, to the entrance that held the ten thousand steps you had every intention of climbing. 
Your body would surely fail. 
The last five decades had not been kind. 
With a determination fueled solely by desperation and hope, you began the tunneled pathway to the harrowing climb, but then you stopped at the entryway. 
A broken rendition of your name met your ears, so cracked and ruined you could have passed it off for something else. 
But you knew that voice, the way the vowels flowed and connected. 
Another broken sound permeated the air, this time from your own lips. 
You couldn’t look. You wanted to, ached to, but you couldn’t. So much anticipation led up to this moment. And you were different now, a fraction of the person you had been all those years ago. 
“Y/n, my love, look at me,” Azriel begged, the lowest you’d ever heard him speak. But you hadn’t heard him speak in so long, so perhaps you were misremembering. “Please.” 
You couldn’t. 
Moving was impossible. 
Your legs began to shake at the sound of footsteps, and then your knees gave out. 
A loud sound vibrated against the tunnel walls as your hands slapped against the floor. On the ground, steps away from the only person who could fix this, your waterline filled with tears. 
But you didn’t have time to second-guess or run or wonder if this was all too much. You were gathered into a strong pair of arms, pressed into a firm chest that smelled like home, and tears made paths down your cheeks. They flowed in damp trails in silence, Azriel holding you closer and closer until you weren’t sure space existed between you. 
His nose pressed into your hair. 
His chest rose and fell in uneven patterns. 
More silence. You felt your body begin to rock gently back and forth. 
This wasn’t real—it couldn’t be. 
You had resigned yourself to never seeing him again many years ago. Even as you ran through the streets of Velaris without your breath or your reasonable mind, you hadn’t expected to find him. This was a dream, Azriel wasn’t here, it was only a cruel play on your mind. 
Someone was trying to hurt you, and it was working. 
Maybe Amarantha had finally gotten Rhys to crack. 
Maybe this was his doing, his manipulation of your deepest hopes. 
Something was moving against your ear, soft and rushed and incoherent. A hand smoothed back your hair. You kept rocking. 
“You’re okay.” Words filtered through ringing. “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m here.” 
Over and over. On a loop. 
Something encased you. Darkness followed—you were used to darkness. 
The pattern of the words lulled your heart back to a normal rate. Tears continued to fall. Your breath was shaky. 
“I love you so much,” Azriel broke the repetition, shocking your system. “I love you. I love you—” 
A sob wracked your body, the first real sound to leave your mouth. Azriel shushed you in response, but when he buried his face in your neck you felt the wetness of his own cheeks. 
This had to be real, it had to. There was no other alternative. You wouldn't survive feeling this way just to be thrust back into that nightmare. 
It had to be real, it had to—
“It is,” Azriel choked out. He pulled back, your face in his hands, his expression conveying a picture of pain and love and disbelief. “It’s real, angel. Gods, you’re so beautiful. I never thought I’d—” Words cut off and restarted. “I tried so hard to get to you.” 
His forehead met yours. 
This was real. 
You felt the shadows wisp along your skin. 
You could never feel them in dreams. 
“I missed you,” you croaked, voice so unused to the words. “So much.” 
Azriel squeezed his eyes shut only to open them after not even a breath. Desperate not to lose sight of you. Anguished at the thought of missing the picture of you in his arms. 
“I’ve missed you more.”
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bbyseok · 30 days
Text
genshin dragon men : calling him handsome
♡ pairing: zhongli, neuvillette x gn!reader
♡ a/n: this was originally supposed to also have wriothesley, dan heng, blade, and jing yuan, but i ran out of ideas. if you’d like to see something for them, please lemme know lol
———
zhongli — flattery, you swallow me.
the former archon is rather composed in nearly every waking moment you’ve seen him. he carries himself with an aura of calm confidence, whether he’s dealing with business on behalf of the wangsheng funeral parlor or spending his time leisurely alongside you.
he has a way with words; speaking oh so eloquently on a variety of topics.. from today’s weather to the latest tale of liyue’s history he’s been wanting to spew.
zhongli doesn’t get flustered often, if not at all. which makes sense for a man like him. having had many experiences in his six thousand years of life, it’s not really surprising.
but let’s just say that you’re feeling rather.. determined to see what blushing looks like on the funeral consultant. his stoic expressions do nothing to deter the handsomeness of his facial features, but you’re sure you can make him even prettier.
it’s like any other day in liyue harbor: bustling streets full of commerce, clear skies overhead, and calm waves from the sea.
zhongli had proposed to you earlier in the week that you spend a day with him. “i enjoy your company,” he had said without batting an eye and knowing that those words easily had your heart racing, “even if we are simply doing nothing at all.”
you have yet to see him so far, waiting beside a food stall and trying to catch sight of his presence amongst the crowd. you shift on your legs, moving to lean on the stall and crossing your arms. ah, there he is.
dressed in his usual attire of brown, gold, and black, he catches your eye quite easily and begins to approach you. his strides are long and he’s quick to almost reach the spot where you’re standing.
and here’s your chance!
before he can speak and greet you, you take a deep breath, flash up your own smile, and say right as he closes the distance in the most suave voice you can muster, “hi, handsome.”
you’re expecting a reaction of surprise from him, of course. he’s no stranger to compliments, but he’s not used to them as brazen and blunt as this—especially from you.
but you still certainly don’t him to stumble and nearly fall at your feet. zhongli’s footing stutters ever so slightly and he has to regain it as he stands in front of you, clearing his throat with eyes that seem to widen for only a couple of heartbeats.
and you were right: he looks even prettier with the faint pink dusting over his cheeks. it’s barely visible, but it’s there. and it’s there because of you.
frankly, he feels like a silly fool, fumbling like that. even though his current status is one of a mortal, he had stood boldfaced during countless events in the middle of wrath and destruction, and these mere words from you has him acting like some- some teenager!
zhongli clears his throat again, trying to confirm that he hadn’t misheard you. “pardon?” he coughs, amber eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of mirth.
your smile is the same as before, tugging at the corner of your lips subtly. “hi, handsome,” you repeat cheekily, speaking as if you just hadn’t witnessed him trip oh so elegantly. you straighten your form so you’re no longer leaning on the stall. “was wondering what was taking you so long.”
his eyes are watching you closely, and he seems to have regained his usual composure, even with the blush still lingering on his cheeks. “ah, i apologize,” he muses, “i failed to realize the time.”
and then, it’s his turn to flatter you. because the feeling is mutual, is it not? your boldness should be repaid. after all, flattery is an exchange that goes both ways.
zhongli grasps your hand within his gloved one, lifting it up to brush his soft lips over your knuckles with delicacy that makes your heart skip a beat.
“a beauty such as you should not have to wait.”
———
neuvillette — oh, how the water stirs.
the chief justice of fontaine is a man of an honorable reputation. your hear nothing but good—and sometimes mysterious—things from the people of the nation.
being an assistant of the iudex, however, does allow you to see other sides to him. while he is strict and stern, almost immovable, in the court, he is also kind and tender to those he seemed fit to receive such treatment from him. (the melusines are a prime example.)
whatever he seems to be doing though.. he nearly always wears almost an emotionless expression on his alluring features.
now, there are many words that you can use to describe neuvillette’s appearance with: ethereal, striking, breathtaking even. but the last thing you want is to overwhelm him and embarrass yourself.
so you’ll start small, you decide. a short and honest compliment because the iudex’s assistant is allowed to compliment him sometimes, right?
today’s routine is quite normal so far—you help sedene and any of the other melusines that have tasks around the palais memoria before preparing to greet neuvillette and help him out with his papers and any other duties.
you can tell he has arrived when everyone takes a look and hushes down; the entrance hall of the palais memoria is usually quiet in ambience but even more so with the chief justice now present.
“good morning, monsieur neuvillette,” you greet him as well as he approaches, and he gives you a polite smile in return, cane stamping on the floor gently.
he says your name softly and shakes his head. “ah, i’ve already told you before. you can simply call me neuvillette— i insist.”
you chuckle in response and nod. first name basis with who is essentially one of the most powerful beings of the nation is nothing short of nervewracking. you don’t let it get to you though, gesturing to the door. “ah, right. sorry. shall we head into your office?”
neuvillette nods and walks. you move to follow him, but there’s a sudden tugging on your clothing and you look to see sedene behind you.
the melusine giggles, perhaps in a knowing way. “monsieur neuvillette seems to be quite fond of you, if i must say!” she says in a hushed voice.
you flush, waving her statement off. “oh, sedene!” despite feeling slightly embarrassed, you’re flustered as well. eventually, you head into neuvillette’s office, hoping he doesn’t notice anything amiss.
you settle into routine easily; briefing him up on any upcoming trials and cases, smaller notifications from the people of fontaine, and of course—situating his seemingly endless stacks of paperwork.
after a while, neuvillette now seated at his desk, he emits a soft sigh and bids you thanks. “thank you. that’ll be all for now.” his ever glistening gaze rests on you. “i do wish you a pleasant rest of your day.”
okay, you can do it. it’ll be fine. just tell him he looks good and leave! why does it seem like his eyes are boring straight into you? they’re unreadable as ever, leaving you to simply wonder what will go through his head when you say what you want to say.
nonetheless, you take a quick, deep breath and go for it. “you look handsome today, neuvillette,” you tell him, a sincere smile tugging at your lips.
he doesn’t say anything, and the brief silence that hangs in the air is nearly startling as he simply continues to stare. you clear your throat quickly and look away. “well, you look handsome every day, but i just wanted to let you know now and well-”
you’re rambling, great. “um, i’ll be taking my leave now, monsieur!” you awkwardly dismiss yourself and hurry out of his office, missing at how the tips of his ear subtly burn with a different shade of color.
you don’t even bother glancing at a curious sedene as you usher your way out of the bulding. oh, archons! how are you going to face him now?
unbeknownst to you, all that is left is the hydro dragon in deep contemplation, papers still completely untouched since your departure.
it is only when sedene enters the room with her clipboard does he stir, and he blinks at her appearance. his brows furrow, still deep in pondering.
“monsieur neuvillette, is everything alright?”
there’s a pause. for a rare moment, the chief justice allows himself to be hesitant and genuinely curious aloud.
“sedene.. am i… handsome?”
(it’s safe to say that for the rest of the day, fontaine has nothing but a sunny sky.)
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ghostfacd · 5 months
Text
SHE WAS LIKE A SHOT OF EPRESSO
pairing. tom blyth x actress!fem!reader (mentions of other actors x fem!reader platonically)
summary. in which you are the epitome of sunshine and radiance within your co stars OR all the times your co stars have talked interviewers’ ears off about you
installment of this au | read for context!
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Time 1: Tom Blyth
“How’s Y/N as a cast mate?”
That question shouldn’t make Tom Blyth smile that wide — but he does — because he’s so utterly and unconditionally inlove with you.
“Oh gosh, I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Tom begins. “As her boyfriend, I think I’m being pretty biased when I say this, but Y/N Avocot as a cast mate has honestly been the best experience of my life. There has not been a day where she doesn’t make me laugh so hard that my ribs start hurting, and there hasn’t been a day where she hasn’t made me smile.” He pauses for a moment, pondering the next words to say.
“Y/N’s just that type of person, you know? She’s like the warm sunlight that engulfs you every morning you open your curtains, she’s like that newly brewed coffee that helps hydrate and bring you back to life. She’s everything.” And he says this in such a loving manner that the interviewer practically awes, the cameraman zooming the camera to show Tom’s dilated pupil.
“Your pupils are dilated!” The interviewer mentions, laughing as she points towards his eyes.
“Oxytocin is a warm hormone that’s released when you talk about someone you love,” Tom shrugs. “All my friends say my pupils dilate when I’m near Y/N, that’s just the effect she has on people.”
“Well there it is folks! Tom Blyth is truly inlove with Y/N Avocot!”
Time 2: Sean Kaufman and Lola Tung
It was an interview discussing the new season of The Summer I Turned Pretty, and it consisted of Sean and Lola who’s schedules were the only ones that were open that day.
“Guys! We’re so happy to have you today,” the interviewer starts.
“Why thank you,” Lola smiles brightly into the camera, smoothing out her dress.
“So obviously, this season is very important to the plot, it contains so much new exciting storylines including Sean’s character, Steven Conklin, and Y/N’s character, Ella!”
“Yes,” Sean laughs, his eyes crinkling. “It was very fun filming the scenes with Y/N, she’s like that little rush of happiness that you just wanna keep inside a jar.”
“Actually!” Lola speaks up, crossing one leg over the other as she leans forward to the interviewer. “Now that Sean’s mentioning it, Y/N really is a rush of happiness. God, everyday on set, I always think ‘I’m gonna probably have to say my lines over a thousand times and be tired by the time I’m done’ but Y/N comes right in, and she’s always making funny faces behind the director which just fills my heart with joy and it’s those little moments that make acting really worth it you know? Like even though I’m dying re filming the same scene over and over again — I know that Y/N’s always going to cheer me up by the end of it.”
“Wow,” the interviewer laughs. “I haven’t even asked you guys about Y/N yet but she seems to be very loved by the crew.”
“Oh yeah,” Sean nods. “Everyone filming loves her. I mean, how could you not?”
And the interviewer thinks the same question, because after interviewing Tom Blyth, she really believes that you really cannot not love Y/N Avocot.
Time 3: Timothee Chalamet
“Timo!” The interviewer greets Timothee excitedly, moving the chair so he could sit.
“Jacob! My favorite interviewer,” and maybe Timothee’s lying, because he’s seen about a million interviewers by now, but it makes Jacob smile, not so much hating his job anymore.
“Your new movie, Miracles in Love, can you tell me more about that?”
“Yes,” Timothee takes a deep breath. “It’s about a boy and girl in their early twenties figuring out what they wanna be in life. My character, Louie Marcel, falls inlove with my co star — Y/N’s character — Maeve Jones after they bump into each other at the bar and talk about how depressing their lives are. It’s pretty funny, y’know. How easy it was to film with Y/N, in fact, it came all naturally.” Timothee pauses, a small smile playing on his lips.
“When you say naturally, what exactly do you mean by that?”
“Oh you know Jacob,” Timothee grins. “It’s easy to fall inlove with Y/N Avocot. She’s a remarkable actress, and everything that I filmed with her feels so real that it feels like I’m really Louie and I’m really falling inlove with a girl named Maeve at the local bar near my university.”
“Oh wow,” Jacob, the interviewer, can’t help but gush at Timothee’s endearing statement. “You must be very good friends.”
“Us? Of course!” He laughs as if it was one of the funniest statements on earth. “I’m really good friends with her boyfriend too, Tom. They’re honestly the sweetest couple, don’t know if I’m inlove with him or her. Maybe both,” he jokes.
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bellyapologist oh to be yn avocot and be so loved by her cast mates that they’re smiling each time they talk about her
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user1 literally like how do you not cry when you’re being called a literal rush of happiness
user2 lola and sean being so excited to talk about her even though the interviewer didn’t start the interview yet 😭
user3 shows that yn is rly a good person
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timotheesgf YN AVOCOT LET ME BE YOU PLEASEEEE LOOK AT HOW TIMOTHEE TALKS ABT HER GOD LIFE IS NOT FAIR
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user4 “it’s easy to fall inlove with yn avocot” FUCKKKKK
user5 “everything I filmed with her feels so real” oh tom and kylie are punching the air rn
user9 she must’ve saved a planet in her past life cause..
user10 same energy as “she was like a shot of espresso” 😭😭😭😔😔😔
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kyuuppi · 1 year
Text
How they react when you're jealous
Ft. Wanderer (Scaramouche); Xiao; Zhongli; Childe; Venti; Albedo; Tighnari
(gender neutral reader but Childe refers to them as "princess"/"prince" once)
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⭐ Wanderer
+ This man is actually insufferable, good-fucking-luck
+ He acts so smug 'cause of course you'd be jealous, he's revered and worshipped by the masses!! (he's not)
+ Will probably cockily tell you you'll just have to get used to it, he's a god afterall so it's expected that he'll have many loyal fans all vying for his attention—
+ It's all a farce
+ In reality, he's kind of in shock that you'd really be jealous over him, the useless puppet discarded by his own mother—but that's his unresolved insecurity and mommy issues talking
+ He'll keep up the façade and tease you for a while until he realizes you're genuinely upset—then he'll find some roundabout way to tell you that you have nothing to worry about, he only has eyes for you...of course he'll never directly admit that, though
"Hah, you're jealous? What a foolish human emotion—of course I'll be adored by thousands..."
The Wanderer cuts himself off as he takes in your tense form, brows furrowed and eyes looking anywhere but him as you quietly seethe. His chest clenches in that weird way it only seems to do when you're involved.
"Wait...don't tell me you're actually angry...?"
You don't show any signs you even heard his question and the Wanderer sighs dramatically, averting his own gaze to hide his reddening cheeks as he mumbles his next words.
"You have nothing to worry about, idiot...you're way above any of those other weaklings anyway."
⭐ Xiao
+ I'm sorry but he literally is incapable of understanding that you're jealous
+ Like...he can barely even process that you like him, let alone recognize the advances of another random human who is interested in him. The time he even spends with others is extremely limited unless you're involved so there aren't many chances for anyone to talk to him
+ If it's something like another adepti or half-adepti, like Ganyu, who he's been spending a lot more time with lately training, you might feel insecure by your own mortality, which Xiao can somewhat understand but still doesn't get the jealousy part
+ Tries his best to try to comfort you though, even if it means shyly asking Zhongli or Verr Goldet
+ Surprisingly ends up coming to the best solution—spending more time with you
You nearly jump out of your skin when you turn to find the figure of your boyfriend standing behind you on the balcony of Wangshu Inn. You're certain he wasn't there just five minutes ago.
"Huh? Shouldn't you be training Ganyu today...?" You ask, feeling slightly sick at the mention of the pretty half-adeptus girl. She was a sweetheart and a great friend but you can't help but to think about how much time she's been spending with Xiao. You're sure she doesn't have any ulterior motives but you can't help but to think about how much prettier and stronger she is compared to you. Surely Xiao sees it too...
"We agreed to take a break for today," Xiao immediately answers, slowly stepping forward until his cheat is nearly touching the back of your arm, so close you can smell the faint traces of his natural scent—something fresh and crisp like the mountain air.
"Instead...I want to spend some time with you—if you'll allow it." He says softly. You momentarily freeze, not used to Xiao initiating dates. Unperturbed, he continues speaking.
"I thought we could do that mortal activity you told me about before. I think it was called...a picnic?"
⭐ Zhongli
+ The god who has ruled over humans for over 2,000 years—of course he's familiar with such a common emotion like jealousy. Even if he himself has yet to experience it
+ He would never assume you were jealous unless you openly tell him about it
+ But then he's quick to assuage your worries and maybe even propose some sort of compromise that can satisfy you both
+ Spends a night absolutely spoiling you until you hardly remember you were ever jealous in the first place, if that's what you so desire
"Ah, it seems you may have misunderstood my relationship with the funeral director, I apologize if I caused you any discomfort," Zhongli tells you earnestly, gently holding your hands in his own, much larger ones and holding your gaze so intensely you find it impossible to look away.
"Now tell me, my dear, how may I settle your worries? Perhaps we should take some time away, just the two of us?"
⭐ Childe
+ Idk how you even got jealous in the first place cause this man is glued to your hip
+ Slightly flattered when he recognizes your signs of jealousy cause he just sees it as proof of how much you care about him
+ It may feel a bit demeaning at first but he will not take your jealousy seriously. He baby talks, pinches your cheeks, and teases you but will not show any genuine concern—not because he doesn't care about your feelings, but because he's so sure that he only has eyes for you that he thinks your jealously is completely unreasonable in the first place
+ As a big fan of PDA, he takes the advantage to be more touchy and affectionate with you in public under the guise of "showing everyone he's yours"
+ If anything, he's the one whose always jealous when another person takes so much as a second of your attention—but you don't need to know that
"Aww, is my prince/ss pouting now? Ahaha, don't look at me like that!" Childe effortlessly dodges the elbow you aim at his ribs after he pinches at the fat of your cheek for the third time today.
Not perturbed in the least, Childe sticks himself to your side and continues to grin down at you, uncaring of the strangers who glance at you two with strange looks as you make your way through the busy streets of Liyur Harbor.
"Here, how about I make it up to you and we go on a lunch date? My treat!"
⭐ Venti
+ Another one who doesn't take your concerns seriously
+ However, unlike most of the other men, it's pretty reasonable to be jealous with how Venti talks to everyone
+ He's naturally romantic and seems to possess no clear boundaries, leading to him saying things that could be construed as flirtatious without him even realizing it
+ When he's tipsy on dandelion wine, it's not unusual to see him belting out ballads and serenading anyone nearby willing to give him the time of day—though, in reality, his love songs are all actually written about you
"Oh, my windblume is feeling a bit jealous?"
You don't bother providing a response but Venti doesn't seem to need one.
"Ehehe, so cute," he coos, shamelessly wrapping his arms around you. Any feelings of jealousy you hold are quickly being replaced with embarrassment at how other patrons in the crowded bar frequently glance at you and your loud boyfriend.
"No worries, my love, this poor bard's heart only beats for you! I'll even prove it with this song I wrote..."
⭐ Albedo
+ It's Sucrose, isn't it?
+ They spend all those hours locked up in a small lab room in the depths of Dragonspine—its only natural that you'd feel suspicious right?
+ Wrong
+ When he's not with you, Albedo literally only thinks about his experiemnts or drawing. In fact, the times you and Albedo are together are really the only time anyone ever sees Albedo actually listen to someone outside of the Knights of Favonius and talk about things that aren't directly related to alchemy
+ As the so-called "chalk prince," it's not that uncommon for people to find him physically attractive and try their luck—but any deeper feelings usually vanish when they realize he has no interest in them. That and his blank stares can get rather unsettling...
+ If you do get jealous about Albedo being around anyone, it will eventually go away on its own as you realize this man is literally incapable of recognizing flirting
+ (Also, Sucrose is literally an angel and would never jeopardize your relationship. Like, she actively ships you guys together, pls—)
"...which is a particularly unique property for this chemical given it's electronegativity. In fact—oh, [Name], what are you doing here?"
You try very hard not to laugh at the relieved expression the woman Albedo was previously lecturing shoots you. She wastes no time slipping out of the lab while Albedo is distracted, his ocean deep eyes staring at you with a mix of surprise and quiet adoration.
"Ah, it's about lunch time and I don't have any commissions today so I thought we could go get something to eat together. Sorry if I'm disturbing you—"
"Not at all," Albedo interrupts, quickly putting away the glass vial he previously held and removing his latex gloves.
"A visit from you is never a disturbance," Albedo admits plainly, oblivious to the way his words make your chest squeeze.
"Now let's go. If we hurry, we might be able to make it to that place you like before they get crowded."
⭐ Tighnari
+ Lmao what are you jealous of, a flower?
+ This is another Science Man™️ who literally sees nothing but his work. Unless there's a rare sentient species of seductive mushrooms in Sumeru with it's sights set on fennec fox boys, you have nothing to worry about
+ Collei sees him as something akin to an older brother figure and Tighnari is too sassy for anyone else to get close unless they're interested in joining the forest watchers
+ If you tell him you're jealous, he's probably going to call you an idiot for even thinking he's interested in anyone else
Tighnari looks almost annoyed at your confession, glancing up from his journal only to shoot you a glare.
"Hah? Did you accidentally eat some hallucinogenic mushrooms again? I don't have enough time entertain things like that. What a ridiculous accusation."
Annoyance bubbles up inside you but, before you can act on it, Tighnari is already standing from his desk, striding over to you quickly to gently pull you along with him.
"Now come with me. I found an interesting flower on the outskirts of camp I think you'd like."
The proud grin highlighted by the sparkle in his eyes as he looks up at you quickly cuts off any protests you were going to make.
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mooshywrites · 5 months
Text
Bedtime Stories
Fem!Reader x Halsin
Masterlist
Art commissions
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
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─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
A/N - Halsin has ran himself ragged with bedtime stories, his charges demanding to hear a tale or two every night. He comes to you for help, hoping you have a few stories to spare. Unfortunately, this simple ask is going to leave the two of you with very little sleep tonight
Word count - 3.3K
Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, fingering, dirty talk, size difference, vaginal penetration, cream pie, established relationship, smut with plot, minor spoilers, mentions of past violence
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“Not even the first drop of rain in a drought of one thousand years could compare to the sight of you bared for me like this.”
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
“And that’s when I knew I was a goner.” Halsin said, his voice low and serious. You stifled a giggle, worried it would pierce right through the tense air. There wasn’t a single breath taken in the expansive silence.
”What happened next?” A tiny voice whispered from the semi circle before Halsin. It came from a tiny tiefling girl, one that was hanging on every single word of the Druid’s story.
It was adorable watching them, watching your love tell tales to the children you were charged with taking care of. He was rather animated in his stories, hushed voices and sweeping gestures, speaking of beasts and demons and giant brains touched down to earth to take over the land.
The kids ate the stories up. Listened to him as if it were the last story they would ever hear. Each one of them could throw quite the impressive fit in the evening, demanding that Halsin talk them to sleep. He always gave in, sometimes having to make something up on the spot. You would think that with as long as he’s been alive, he would have plenty of stories to tell, but you knew all too well that most of those stories couldn’t be told to little ears.
You loved the evenings, though. Loved watching the gentle giant try his best to calm the terrifying horde of children. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness as you looked over the kids. Most of them had the same story. Lost and forgotten children, victims of the horror that occurred a few months earlier.
Only a few of them had actually told you what happened to them, but it was more or less consistent. Their parents had been killed, turned, or were simply missing in the fight against The Absolute. You didn’t know during the journey itself how many villages had been affected by the cult, but each one of these cubs were a testament to how deep the violence ran.
You could still remember the look on Halsin’s face when you came across a tiefling orphan in the streets of lower Baldur’s Gate. There they were, standing over their parents' bodies. The two older tiefling had been unfortunate murders dedicated to the god of murder himself, Bhaal. The Druid’s face hardened, his words harsh as he wondered how many children had been affected in a similar way
That little tiefling was one of the first that Halsin scooped up to rescue.
Since then, you acquired quite the group of wayward souls. What was it that Halsin said? Right, nine wagons full of the little angels. At first you had been completely overwhelmed at the thought of so many little mouths to feed, little minds to grow, little hearts to mend. But Halsin took it all on the chin, always seeming to know exactly what to say or do.
Yet, the panicked look he’s giving you right now? Maybe your bear wasn’t equipped to handle all of what the children required.
“Then…” You started, beginning to move around the semi circle of kids, your voice sinister and low.
The kids' attention turned to you, eyes wide and expecting. You could’ve laughed at how intensely they were staring, but you knew you had quite the show to put on if you didn’t want to be mauled by a pack of rabid cubs.
”Then Halsin stalked around the cave, trying his best to appease the Mother Owlbear. He knew with one wrong step…” You paused for a dramatic moment, making eye contact with as many of them as you could, “And he would be swallowed up in one gulp.”
You heard Halsin scoff and ignored it, seeing the reaction ripple through your tiny audience.
”How would the owl bear even eat Daddy Halsin!” A particularly brave kid questioned.
A valid question. My spur of the moment storytelling probably wouldn’t withstand professional attention to plot holes
”Well, because,” You pondered, standing up straight again. “The owl bear was the biggest one we’ve ever seen. Just one of its claws was bigger than any one of you little cubs.”
One of the kids, a pale ginger half elf, stifled a shriek. She clung to her brother who was putting on a very good show of bravery, though he was a shade paler than usual.
Note to self - Less scary, more story
”If you want to know how Daddy Halsin escaped, you all have to be good and get some sleep.” You ended, putting on a warm smile.
Groans echoed around you, the kids obviously not happy with the cliffhanger in their bedtime story.
“Aht, ah, ah, lovelies. Bad kids who don’t listen to Miss Daddy Halsin get eaten by giant owl bears.”
That seemed to do the trick, the children scrambling over themselves to crawl into their bedrolls. Halsin had let them choose where to put their beds, most choosing to sleep in the equivalent of a pile in the corner of the grove. A few slept a few feet away, but the proximity to your quarters seemed to keep all of their mind’s at ease.
You smiled as Halsin came bumbling toward you, a tired smile gracing his features, “You’re always better at getting them to bed than I am, my heart.” He muttered, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. You leaned into the touch, his large hand warming the small of your back.
”What can I say, terrorizing kids is my specialty.” You teased, looking over the bundles of furs. You hadn’t realized how heavy your shoulders felt until now, how hard it was to keep your eyes open.
Ever perceptive, Halsin knew how exhausted you were as soon as you did. He chuckled softly and let you go, “Go on to bed, sweet. I will kiss foreheads.”
Any other day, you might’ve argued. Kissing everyone goodnight was one of your favorite parts of the night. But you were tired, and, well… there were a lot of foreheads.
You padded towards the large stone door, making your way to the room you and Halsin shared. When the children first arrived, it made you nervous to think of them out in the open, separated by a thick slab of rock. Practically no sound got past the opening, after all. Halsin kissed away your worries, assuring you there were a plethora of animals who would keep careful watch over them. Half of which were even nocturnal.
Without any worries, and a slight feeling of fatigue in your bones the sight of your bed was a beautiful, beautiful scene. You sat on the edge of the bed, idly running your hands across the deep set carvings etched into the wood. It had taken weeks to convince Halsin to make you a bed frame, even longer to convince him to actually sleep on the bed and not the ground. After enough pleading and many a kiss, he finally completed the process, even detailing the wood with his whittling tools.
It didn’t seem long before Halsin appeared in the wide doorway, expression light. “Those little ones will surely be the death of me.”
”I’ve heard it said that being around children makes you feel young again.” You mused, tucking your legs under the thin blankets.
“Whoever says that is a fraud. They only make me feel much, much older.” He laughed, coming over to sit at your feet. “They love your stories, my heart. Perhaps you should be in charge of that for now.”
”No, I simply couldn’t.” You said decisively, shaking your head for good measure.
“And why not?” Halsin asked incredulously, hands coming up to rub your feet. You knew that his movements were a thinly veiled attempt at bribery, but you wouldn’t be weak enough to fall for it this time.
”They like your stories more.” You shrugged, letting your eyes flutter shut as you enjoyed the massage. “I like your stories more as well.”
”It’s difficult to tell stories with you around.” He said quietly, eyes trained on you. You met his gaze, seeing a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
That smile never meant anything good.
“What do you mean?” You asked simply, feigning ignorance. You could try to ignore the way his hands moved higher up to your calf, but you knew that focus would be short lived. No, if the Druid wanted your attention, he would have to earn it.
“I mean… How am I supposed to be present enough to tell a story when nature’s most beautiful creation herself is standing mere feet away from me?” His voice was a half a note lower than usual, barely perceptible if it were anyone but the man you loved.
”You flatter me.” You whisper, not trusting your voice to hide the way heat began crawling its way through your stomach.
Halsin leaned in, pressing a kiss against your jaw. His words tickled your skin, warm breath brushing over your ear as he spoke, “Oak Father, preserve me, how am I supposed to focus on anything when your sweet scent washes over me at even your nearness?”
Your breath caught in your throat, your mind already becoming fogged with clouds of desire. “Maybe you are just less skilled at focusing than I am.” You responded.
He pulled back for a moment, still smiling grinning. “You think you can get through a story while being distracted?” He prodded
Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. You knew the feeling that crawled through the back of your mind. It was the same one you had when you knew you were about to walk face first into a trap. One you just couldn’t place, exactly.
“I suppose so.” You countered, arms coming up to cross in front of you. “What story would you like to hear?”
”Hmm.” He thought aloud, pausing for a moment. You found your gaze fawning over him during the brief break, appreciating the way his shoulders flexed, his hands never pausing the foot rub. “Tell me the story of how we first met.”
”That’s it? What’s the catch?” You inquired suspiciously
“Catch? Why would there be a catch, my heart?” His expression screamed ‘innocent’ but your intuition screamed ‘SCHEMER’
“Fine. I’ll tell you how we met without getting distracted.” You started, leaning back against the wall. “I had heard you had gotten captured at the goblin camp. A very intelligent move by th-“
You faltered slightly as Halsin leaned back forward, lips brushing over your collarbone. You could practically feel him smirk against you, words muffled slightly, “Why did you stop? Distracted already?”
You felt a surge of defiance, a deep sense of determination against his taunting. It didn't matter how flushed your cheeks felt at the current moment, you would be getting through this story.
You would be the one to win.
Your voice continued on, a bit shakier than before, “So I decided I needed to break you out.”
Halsin’s lips continue to mold against your skin, peppering slow, teasing kisses along your shoulder. “I asked around quite a bit about you, but no one seemed to know exactly where you were.”
You caught another gasp as Halsin’s hands wrapped around the small of your back, toying with the ties of your bodice.
No. Focus.
”When I realized I would either need to break or sneak into the goblin camp, I also realized I was much too weak for either.”
“Mnm” Halsin responded, signaling you on.
Only, it was difficult to continue on. You felt the ribbon of your dress completely loosened, the delicious warmth of the Druid’s hands against your bare back. You swallowed thickly, trying your best to ignore the feeling.
“I needed to get stronger, so I could save the helpless first Druid,” You muttered, annoyance obviously present as you tried your best to keep your thoughts straight.
”Oh, my heart.” Halsin murmured, deftly pushing the fabric off of your shoulders and down to your waist. You shivered slightly, feeling your nipples pebble through the material of your underclothes. Halsin’s attention went straight towards the raised mounds, a strange sort of irreverent glint in his eyes. He looked back up at you, smiling softly. “You don’t know the meaning of helpless.”
With that, his mouth dipped down, catching a clothed breast in a gentle nip. You had to grate your teeth tightly to avoid the moan caught in your throat, thoughts holding on to your “story” by the thinnest of threads.
”Given up?” Halsin whispered again, a rough palm coming up to cup the other breast, kneading so lightly you might’ve been imagining it.
“No!” You snapped, eyebrows coming together as you mustered all the focus you could manage. ”When I finally found you, I never thought you’d be a-“
You couldn’t help the whimper that took over your sentence as Halsin dragged a thick finger over your clothed core. Your mind short circuited, wetness gathering almost immediately at a simple touch.
You knew, deep down, that Halsin had won. That it was hopeless to think you could’ve ignored his… distractions… in the first place. How were you supposed to ignore the way his mouth skillfully worked in tandem with his hand, the way his free hand had snuck up to render you speechless?
The only response the elf gave you was a low chuckle, his gentle touch beginning to rub circles around your heat devilishly slow. The sly cur, he wouldn’t even take the satisfaction of bragging of his win.
No, instead, he would just continue to see you undone by his hand.
”You're a cheater.” You whimpered quietly, finally giving up the game.
”And you, my heart,” He murmured, shifting in the bed slightly, “Are a sore loser.”
“Just… just touch me.” You responded, refusing to give him any more defiance than he already had broken in you.
Your druid was ever so gentle as he removed the rest of your clothes, leaving gentle kisses along your skin as the fabric slid off. Every touch, every movement left a deep need coursing through your veins. You might’ve been embarrassed by the depth of your desire if your mind had any room for such thoughts.
But no. The only thing your thoughts would entertain right now was him.
”By Silavanis’s grace.” Halsin whispered, leaning back, hungry gaze taking you in. “Not even the first drop of rain in a drought of one thousand years could compare to the sight of you bared for me like this.”
Your cheeks reddened further, arms coming up to shield your intimate parts from his attentive eyes. You were never the best at taking compliments, Especially ones as beautifully and lovingly crafted as the words Halsin used.
”Do not hide yourself from me, my heart. Do not deprive me of your beauty.” His hands gently pried yours away, his smile gentle.
”I’m just feeling a little overdressed.” You said, gesturing to the fully clothed Druid in front of you.
“I suppose you’re right, my sweet.” He grinned, hands working quickly to rid himself of his clothes.
You took the opportunity to marvel at the man’s physique. The way his tan skin shone in the candle light, scars shining. His muscles pulled and relaxed as he moved, the entirety of him an artfully designed creation.
It didn’t take long for his lips to come back down to yours, catching you in a passionate kiss. It was slow and purposeful, his arms wrapping around you to pull you flush against him. His grasp was strong, his skin deliciously warm against you. Calloused hands found their way to exactly where Halsin knew you needed them, one on the soft mound of your chest, the other under the curve of your ass.
Your lips worked just as eagerly against him, small moans escaping occasionally. Your hands clung onto his arms, hips already beginning to push up desperately.
”Patience, my heart.” Halsin’s voice was low, rasped, clearly holding on to the last bit of rationale he had left.
You couldn’t seem to help yourself, pushing your hips harder, wetness dragging along his hard member.
”Oak father, preserve me.” He growled, gripping your hip harshly. If it were anyone but Halsin, his tone may have made you nervous. But with him… it only made you crave him more.
”Please, Halsin. Please, I need you.” You begged, not caring how you’d been rendered undone so easily.
You weren’t left wanting for long, Halsin shifting slightly to press the soft tip of his cock against your entrance. You clenched around nothing, whimpering with need.
Halsin winced, showing much more control than you could manage. “You must relax, my heart. Breathe deeply.”
You took a deep breath and held it, preparing yourself for the inevitable stretch of Halsin’s rather endowed length. It had taken twice as long to get this far your first time laying together, you thought he would split open completely. But now, your impatience was wearing thin.
As if he could read your inner dilemma, Halsin finally gave you what you wanted. The tension melted from your body, your breath rushing out as an airy moan when you felt him push into you. “God’s above!” You whined, trying to acclimate to the stretch.
Halsin’s brow was furrowed, mouth in a thin line as he looked down at where the two of your body’s met, “You look so perfect with my cock inside of you, my heart. So perfect.”
You would’ve returned the compliment, thought of something else to say, that is if Halsin hadn’t chosen that moment to thrust all the way into your awaiting cunt. You cried out in pleasure, Halsin giving you no more time to adjust as he set forth a harsh pace. Every other breath was a moan, the sound of Halsin’s labored breaths shock waves to your core.
His hand came up to cover your mouth, trying his best to muffle your lewd sounds as his head dipped against yours.
”My heart…” He murmured. “Mine.”
His tone was graveled, possessive, and you could tell instinct was taking over already. Your own heat clenched in response, earning another harsh growl from your gentle giant.
“Halsin, I’m-“ You stuttered, your mind not able to take in both the pleasure and sweet burn from his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt.
“I know, my heart.” He choked out, his thrusts becoming quicker. He drilled into you with short deep pumps, sweat beading across his forehead. “Silvanus himself couldn’t create a more beautiful sight.” He whispered lowly, his hips starting to thrust more erratically. “Not more beautiful than you filled with my seed.”
With that, your cord snapped.
Your heat clenched tightly, incoherent moans muffled against Halsin’s hand. Your vision was blurry, pure ecstasy running like molten lava through your veins. You felt Halsin’s own release erupt into you with a growl, his teeth nipping at your ear as he followed through with his words.
For a moment or two, you both stayed like that, heavy breaths as you came back to the land of the living after such intense highs. When Halsin’s hand left your mouth and began to trace affectionate circles along your cheek, you finally trusted your voice enough to speak.
”I suppose I’m ready to admit defeat.” You smiled, bathing in the warmth of Halsin’s affectionate gaze.
“Surely you didn’t think I would’ve let you best me in the art of bedtime stories?” He chuckled, landing a kiss against your nose.
”We really must be careful doing things like this.” You teased, pointing to where the two of you remained connected. “We’re going to end up with yet another little one to take care of.”
You squealed into a giggle as he rolled the two of you over suddenly, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You snuggled into his warmth, deciding that cleaning up would better be left for tomorrow. Right now you were content being tucked into Halsin’s strong, steady arms.
“Oh, I’m not sure, my sweet.” Halsin smiled, eyes meeting yours with a look full of love and affection,
“What’s one more?”
2K notes · View notes
fushigowo · 1 year
Text
𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 | 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
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╰┈➤ gojo satoru x fem!reader
╰┈➤ synopsis: in your LIT 2000, your classmate, gojo satoru, has his eyes set on the shyest student after telling his theory to getou suguru that the shyest ones are always the horniest. to prove his theory right, satoru finds ways to know whether he’s correct and he’s absolutely sure that he is.
╰┈➤ warnings: fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex, teasing, praise, degradation? soft to rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dumbification, doggy style, cowgirl, name-calling, size kink, spanking, begging, pleasure dom satoru!! (reader and satoru are in their early 20s)
╰┈➤ a/n: this was supposed to be posted on christmas but i didn’t finish it on time :(( but i hope u all had a gentle holiday!! as a gift, i wrote whatever this is and i got inspiration from this soundgasm audio which is HOT AF!!! also, i did not proofread this. im lazy as fuck
PART I | PART II
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Gojo Satoru has his pretty cerulean eyes set on someone, and that someone is none other than you.
You sit at the very front of the classroom, three rows in front of Satoru’s where he can get a clear view of you every time he stares. Not only you’re the smartest and the teacher’s pet, Satoru considers you as the most mysterious student in LIT 2000 despite being with 30 more students because of how quiet you are.
Satoru’s been observing you since the start of the year and the thing that he noticed the most was that you rarely and he means rarely talk to anyone or even participate in class. Whenever you’re called by the professor, you would mumble some I don’t knows and I’m sorrys because you can’t answer the question that was given to you. However, Satoru knew for a fact that you’re just saying those things so you won’t get to speak longer than that. He knew very well that you know the answer to every damn question.
Which is why he is so lucky to have you as a partner for a midterm essay.
As for you, you don’t know what to feel when professor called your name after Gojo Satoru’s.
You don’t really have a problem writing a five-page or more essay with a minimum of three thousand words. The problem is… Gojo Satoru is your partner. It’s not like you don’t like him. It’s just that...
Holy fucking shit. Did she figure out that I have a huge crush on Satoru?! Is that why she paired me up with him? But I made sure not to make it obvious! No, no. This won’t do.
So after class was over, you had a talk with your professor, begging for her to take the midterm essay on your own. The talk didn’t go well as planned.
Since Satoru is having a hard time catching up with LIT 2000, your professor told you to help him by partnering up in this midterm essay. However, that didn’t sit right with you so you protested, saying that there’s a chance that Satoru wouldn’t help writing the paper which would result into you writing the entire thing yourself. But that was just an excuse not to work with Satoru, otherwise you would get all flustered and nervous throughout the week while working on this midterm essay.
“It is not different from doing the entire essay myself,” you scoff.
“I know, but that is also why I partnered him with you,” she says, making you raise an eyebrow. “You can let me know if Satoru didn’t help with anything at all, which is easier for me to fail him.”
“You’re gonna fail him?” you ask.
“Yes. As you can see, Satoru hasn’t been performing well in my class,” she says, “but I figured you can help him since you’re my top performing student. Can I count on you?”
“There are other top performing students in your class though,” you mumble. Sighing in defeat, you agreed to partner up with Satoru. “Professor, did you know that I have a crush on Satoru? Is that another reason why you paired me with him?”
Silence. She knows.
“I genuinely did not know that until now.”
Crap. She doesn’t know. And I told her?! Holy—
“ForgetIsaidanythingprofessorthankyouforyourtimegoodbye.”
With that, you immediately rushed out of her office and slammed the door shut.
The only reason why you wanted to do this midterm essay on your own is because you won't have to deal with Satoru’s presence. Oh, his presence alone would make you so nervous that your smartass brain won’t even function and you would get all flustered, which is really bad because this might hinder your focus on working on the essay. Not only that, but Gojo Satoru does not take things seriously. A complete opposite of you since you take everything related to academics very seriously. But you realized that it won’t hurt to give a little help for Satoru to not fail LIT 2000.
Meanwhile, Gojo Satoru wanders around the halls of the building, in hopes of searching for you so the two of you can start working on the essay. But before that, he had a talk with his best friend, Getou Suguru.
“Yo, Satoru,” Suguru approached the white-haired man with one hand raised up. “I heard your partner for this midterm is that girl. Won’t this be the perfect time to test that theory of yours?”
“Yeah, well, I’m not trying to get into her pants,” Satoru says and a smirk grew on his glossy lips, ”not unless she wants me to.”
After your talk with your literature professor, you had to compose yourself in the rest room and even practiced a script on how you’re going to talk to Satoru. However, you had a realization that this isn’t going to be the only time that you’ll interact with Gojo Satoru since your professor knows that you have a thing for him. You scold yourself for being so nervous around him, despite being a grown ass woman.
But Satoru is… just so pretty. I can’t even look at him straight in the eyes. Also because I’ve touched myself to the thought of him so that would be awkward as fuck.
When you finally got out of the restroom, you heard a loud voice from behind and the minute you heard that voice, you already knew that it would be him. Looking over your shoulder, Satoru in his white long sleeves, black pants, messy yet gorgeous white hair and those round sunglasses. The tall man approached you with a smile on his face while you try not to melt down the ground that you’re standing on.
“I was looking for you,” Satoru says. “I thought we could start working on the essay so we can finish it ahead of the deadline.”
“You—uh, you want to start working now?” you ask, but a hint of nervousness in your voice.
“Yep!” Satoru gives you a smile and a thumbs up, and suddenly, he leans down on your face and brings his lips closer to your ear, making you shiver. “Just between you and me, I think professor is failing me this semester.”
Your eyes widen when he mentioned that.
Could it be that he heard your conversation with your professor earlier? Did he also hear the part where you told her that you have a crush on Satoru? That would make him think that you’re a complete loser in your 20s and in college yet you act like a teenager with a crush. But it’s not your fault that you’ve rejected so many guys because they’re not your standards and it’s definitely not your fault that you reject them because they’re not Satoru.
“Why would you think that?” you ask.
“Mmm? Because I haven’t been performing well in her class.” he grinned.
So he knows.
“Uh, let’s start then,” you say before walking pass him until he asked where you’re going. You look over your shoulder and said, “the library. It’s where I usually do my tasks if not in my apartment.”
“The library is too… quiet. So we’ll work in your apartment instead!”
It’s a library so it would be quiet. And did he just decide that on his own? God, he’s so stupid, I love him.
Your apartment is not far from your university. The reason why you had an apartment for yourself is because you don’t want another person taking up space and you most definitely don’t want to live with another person that you barely even know. And you’re not bothered that you’re living off-campus. It just makes it easier for you to live independently.
When the two of you got in your apartment, Satoru’s cerulean eyes scanned and observed the place. It was neat and everything is organized. But the thing that caught his attention is the stack of books next to the balcony of your apartment. Four stack of books that almost reach Satoru’s waist and he’s a tall guy. He knew that you read a lot since every time he takes glances at you in class, you’re either reading or writing something so he knows that you like reading, but he didn’t expect you to like it that much.
“Sorry, it’s a mess here,” you mumble. “Let’s get started.” You sit down on the wooden floor as you place your laptop on the coffee table adjacent to Satoru who is now sitting on the couch.
“I forgot my laptop.”
You blinked. Twice.
“Sit next to me.” he mumbled.
And that’s what you did despite being flustered at the thought that it’s only you and Satoru inside your apartment. The thought has you squeezing your legs together as you try to listen to Satoru about his ideas regarding the midterm essay. However, your thoughts were making your mind foggy and you couldn’t think straight. It’s awkward that on this very couch, you’ve touched yourself to the thought of Satoru and now, he’s sitting right next to you.
“Hey,” Satoru calls out. “You okay?”
“Mmm, yeah…” you mumble. “Since, uh, since professor asked us to analyze a chosen text from the 20th century regarding its social context, let’s choose a piece first to write about first. Do you have anything in mind?” you ask, trying your best to not make eye contact with him now that he doesn’t have his round sunglasses on.
“I have a few,” he says. “How about The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath? Or No Longer Human by Dazai Osamu? Ah! I know. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.”
“Am I the only one who didn’t cry my eyes out at the end?” you ask.
“What? You did not cry your eyes out at the end?! Are you even human?” Satory’s eyes widen, looking at you with shock while your eyes are locked on your laptop as you type. “I had snot coming out of my nose that soaked the pages of my book when I read that.”
“First of all, that’s disgusting. Second, it was sad, I admit, but I didn’t shed a tear. It was really good though so kudos to you, Mr. Steinbeck.” you chuckle. “Third, I gave it a five stars so you don’t have to attack me.”
Satoru laughs, making you flustered all over again. This is the first time you’ve heard him laugh this close and he’s laughing because of you, and you like it of course. You like that he’s comfortable around you and you like that he’s still himself despite you being awkward around his presence.
“You know, you’re actually fun to be with,” he says. Satoru’s legs are crossed while his elbow is resting on the arm rest and his cheek is on top of his closed palm as he stares at you with his pretty cerulean eyes. “But why can’t you look at me in the eyes?”
You gulped, squeezing your legs together since you can feel him staring daggers at you. Satoru seems to notice your action and a smirk formed on his glossy lips. Satoru moves closer to you, almost like you can feel his hot breath touching the sensitive part of your neck, making you shiver.
“Are you scared of me?” he asks and the only answer you could give him is by shaking your head, telling him that it’s a no. “Hmm? Then why can’t you look at me?”
You didn’t answer.
“Look at me,” he demand.
This time, you feel Satoru’s fingers making its way down your chin, making you face him and look up at him but despite his actions of forcing you to stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, you didn’t protest at all… because you like every single move he’s making on you. Satoru’s other hand glides down your arm, feeling your soft skin that made you shiver because of his warm touch.
When your eyes met his, you couldn’t help but melt on your seat. And it’s not just because Satoru is staring at you.
“There you go,” he chuckles. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now tell me, sweetheart, why are so flustered around me?”
You couldn’t form the words. Of course you can’t. How could you even continue to talk when Gojo motherfucking Satoru is so close to you that his hot breath is almost touching your skin and his hands are caressing your arms and chin, leaving you no choice but stare into his eyes. Not to mention the smirk that he has on his glossy lips.
“T-that’s because I… I—fuck.” you curse under your breath, trying hard to compose yourself and break eye contact.
“Do I make you nervous? Is that why you’re squirming and squeezing your leg so much?” he chuckles.
You bit your lips—hard—trying to wake yourself up and check if you’re having another wet dream about Satoru again. Fortunately, you are fully awake and the person right in front of you is the real Gojo Satoru. Not your fantasy, not your dream, but real. It was hard you to believe that something that you wanted for so long finally came true and you most definitely won’t let this moment go.
“S-Satoru…” you whisper, almost inaudible.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks with a smile on his face. “Is there something you want? Or need?”
He knows what he’s doing. He definitely knows what he’s doing.
“Touch me…” you mumble under your breath. “Just—touch me, please.”
With that, Satoru chuckles before leaning in towards your ears. His hands trailing down, from your chin down to your neck and wraps his slender fingers around the base, but not too tight. Just enough to make you squirm and squeeze your legs even more.
“If the shy girl wants it then who am I to refuse?” he whispers, his hot breath touching your skin that caused the hairs of your body to stand up.
Suddenly, you feel a wet yet hot sensation make contact with your ears, making its way down your jaw while Satoru’s hand tilt your head to the sides to give him more access of licking and kissing your jaw and neck. Your back touched the arm rest behind you as Satoru slowly pushed you down. He held both your thighs, positioning them to open so he can stay in between them as he kisses your neck down your collarbone, leaving bites and marks.
As Satoru devours your neck and collarbone, his hand expertly unbuttons your shirt while the other caresses your thighs, his fingers making circle patterns on your skin. When your buttons are finally undone, Satoru opens your shirt so he can clearly see your body underneath him. He pulls away from you so he can properly enjoy the view then pulls his shirt over his head.
Your half-lidded eyes earlier suddenly widen when you saw the perfect view of Satoru’s body. A body that was almost carved by the gods themselves and that wasn’t even the main attraction that caught your attention. It was the veins running down his crotch and that fucking v-line.
“You like the view from down there, slut?” he chuckles but then he noticed how you whined and squirmed underneath him when he called you slut. “Oh? Did you like being called that?”
You nod. But Satoru doesn’t take that as an answer so his hand made its way down to your neck again but he wasn’t squeezing it too hard.
“Yes,” you say. “I like it, Satoru. Like it when you—ngh—when you call me a slut.”
“Good. Because that’s what you are,” he mumbles as he leans down to your chest, leaving marks and kisses. “Such a shy little slut for me.”
But the white-haired man scoffs because your bra is in the way. He didn’t bother taking it off by clasping it. He just pulled it down to expose your nipples and didn’t waste any time to lick and suck your sensitive bud, making you arch your back. Satoru’s fingers pinch your other nipple while his knee keeps on pushing and adding pressure on your sensitive pussy, still covered with your now-soaked panties.
Satoru continues to feast on you body while you squirm and moan underneath him. When he was finally done with your tits, Satoru’s kisses went even further down until he reached your skirt. Being the impatient asshole he is, he didn’t bother taking them off and just lifts it up, exposing your panties that has a wet area because of your arousal.
A smirk grew on the white-haired man’s lips and didn’t hesitate to touch the wet area using his index and middle finger. He pushes his fingers on your sensitive bud with enough pressure to have you arching your back. Satoru might be an impatient man but of course he would take your panties off to have better access on your soaking pussy.
Realizing that your cunt is now exposed of Gojo motherfucking Satoru, your hand instinctively covered your pussy as if he did not just suck your tits earlier. But seeing your pussy is different. Of course you’d be shy and flustered. He’s Gojo Satoru, for god’s sake. He’s seen more pussy other than yours.
“Don’t get all shy on me now,” he mumbles. “Take your hands off or I’ll tie them together.”
With that, you slowly took away your hand, letting him see your soaked pussy.
“Don’t hide yourself from me,” he smiles. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
Satoru leans down so he can easily make contact with your cunt. His fingers rub your slit, soaking it with your juices and you couldn’t help but arch your back. A smile grows on his face and suddenly, you can feel him insert a finger inside your cunt, making you whine. His thumb draws circles around your clit that made your thighs quiver until you feel another finger being inserted inside you.
Satoru plunges his fingers in and out of you yet in a slow and sensual pace. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he inserts his digits back. A smirk forms on his glossy lips and plunges his fingers even deeper, deeper than you could reach yourself.
You’ve fingered yourself before but—god, this was so different than what you would usually feel. Is it because his fingers are thicker and longer than yours? Or is it because he’s so fucking good at it?
“Ah! Satoru!” you whine. “R-right there! Right there, please!”
The squelching noise that your pussy and Satoru’s fingers are creating together as well as your wanton moans filled the air of your apartment. You didn’t care how loud you were. You didn’t care if the walls are thin and you didn’t care if your neighbors hear you. You didn’t care about anything else, you just want Satoru to make you cum with his fingers.
Satoru’s pace becomes even more faster, but he figured that it wasn’t enough. Of course it’s not enough. He wasn’t satisfied with just using his fingers.
So he leans down and lolled his tongue out, not even hesitating to lick your sensitive clit, making you jolt and arch your back when you suddenly feel his tongue circling around your clit while his fingers plunge in and out of you. Your legs start to quiver and squirm. The sensation was too much for you that you couldn’t help but close your legs. But Satoru wasn’t done so he grips your legs apart and held the back of your thighs to keep you in place.
This time, Satoru pulls his fingers out and held your thighs in place but his tongue is doing all the work now, licking and sucking your poor overstimulated pussy. Your eyes suddenly widen and your back arched when you feel Satoru insert his tongue inside you, plunging it deeper that his nose is touching your clit.
“Oh, fuck! Satoru! It’s—ngh—too much! I can’t—!”
Your whines and moans continue but Satoru was too busy eating you. But he suddenly pulls away to look at your view. You look so fucked and he didn’t even used his cock yet.
“For someone who’s shy and quiet, you’re being awfully loud for me, sweetheart.” he chuckles before devouring your cunt again.
Satoru can already feel that you’re close. He knows you’re close so he used his thumb to rub circles on your clit and that’s when you completely lost it.
Your legs quiver on Satoru’s grip when you feel your orgasm rip through you. The sensation that Satoru made you feel had you seeing stars, something that you never felt before whenever you touch yourself and this might’ve been the first time that you came this intense. And it felt so fucking good.
Seeing your fucked out state, Satoru chuckles as he watches you catch your breath after that intense orgasm.
“You still with me?” he asks. “I haven’t even used my cock yet!”
“Then use it. Fuck me, Satoru… I want your cock inside me, please.”
“Kiss me first. Come up here and kiss me.” he smiles.
You didn’t hesitate to sit back up and reach for Satoru’s face. Your hand made their way to his cheek while the other caresses his soft white hair. He returns the kiss and inserts his tongue inside your mouth, writhing and swirling against yours. This time, Satoru settles himself next to the arm rest, laying down on the couch while his head rests on the arm rest. Now, you’re on top of him, kissing his glossy lips and grinding your aching pussy on the bulge of his pants.
“Why don’t you do the honors and take my cock out?” Satoru smirks in between your kisses.
And who were you to deny that?
So you unzip Satoru’s pants, bringing it down to reveal the bulge inside his boxers. His cock sprung free when you slid down his boxers, slapping against his lower abdomen. Its size and girth has you gulping because you haven’t seen a cock that big. Sure, you’ve fucked yourself using your dildos but none of your toys compare to Satoru’s cock. A prominent vein runs along the underside of the base of his cock, its pinkish head is releasing pre-cum that drips down to the base.
You didn’t have any idea what you were doing when you had the urge to suck Satoru’s cock. But the white-haired man didn’t have any protests, of course. In fact, his hand is guiding your head to suck on his pulsating cock. After realizing that you didn’t need any guidance, Satoru lets you do your thing.
You let your tongue swirl around the base of his cock and despite it being deep inside your throat, you’re barely even gagging as you take him deeper that your nose is touching his nicely trimmed hair. You continue to suck and lick Satoru’s cock, making him release pretty moans and groans and curses under his breath.
When he felt himself getting close, Satoru couldn’t help but grip your hair and guide your head even though you’re sucking him so well. He just needed something to hold on to and your hair was perfect.
“Ah, fuck! I’m gonna cum. Shit!” he moans until he feels himself release inside your throat. Satoru lets you pull away. Your saliva and some of his cum is leaking down your chin, making him wipe it using his thumb.
“Holy shit. That was so good,” he chuckles. “You sure it’s your first time sucking cock?”
“Uh, well, I-I had some practice,” you say, “with my… toys.”
“Who knew you were such a horny slut?” Satoru didn’t let you answer when he told you to—
“Sit on my cock,” he says. “Sit on my cock and ride me like what you do to your toys. I bet they won’t even compare to mine, huh?”
You gulp before climbing on top of him again. Satoru uses his hand to snake down his head as a pillow while his other hand holds your hips. Positioning yourself on top of him, your hand holds the base of his cock while the other is clinging on the head rest of the couch to support yourself.
You lower yourself down on Satoru’s cock and you couldn’t help but whimper and bite your lips when the tip of his cock finally went inside you. His cock is far more thicker than any of your toys that it has your legs quivering and shaking yet you still continued to lower yourself, taking all of him inside you.
When you stopped, Satoru looks up at you.
“Why’d you stop? You’re not even half way there.”
“What?” you whimper. “Is it t-that big?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “It’s that big.”
Without answering, you continue to lower yourself. Satoru is staring at how your pussy is taking him all in and how you’re struggling to. You’ve done this numerous times on your toys before but riding a real cock—his cock—is far different from that feeling, mainly because Satoru is big.
“It’s so—ah—so deep, Satoru. I don’t think I can—can’t take more.” you whimper.
“But it’s all inside you now,” he smiles. “Ah, fuck. You feel so good.”
To ease the feeling, Satoru lets you cockwarm him while his thumb rub circles on your sensitive clit. When you finally feel at ease and ready to ride him, Satoru places his hand on your hips to keep you in place as you bounce up and down on his cock.
The squelching noises every time his balls meets your skin fills the air of your apartment once again, accompanied by your loud moans and Satoru’s groans.
You can feel the tip of Satoru’s cock hitting the sweet spot of yours that has you clenching around him and every time you look down at the lewd sight below you, you can see a bulge forming on your lower stomach whenever you sink yourself down on Satoru’s cock. Although you seem to be fine riding him and taking all of his cock, you couldn’t look at him straight in the eyes and you even use your hand to cover the lower half of your face since his cerulean eyes are staring right at you.
“Don’t get all shy on me now, slut. You’re riding my cock and yet you still have the nerve to be shy? C’mon, don’t hide yourself,” Satoru grins when he grips both of your hips and lowers you down.
“Ah! Satoru! What are you—ah!”
You couldn’t seem to think straight when he took the initiative to guide you on his cock in a fast and rough pace. Every time he sinks your body down his cock, his hips would thrust up and meet your movement, making the lewd noises even more louder and harder than before.
“Ngh! Fuck, ‘Toru! It’s so deep! So good!”
“Yeah? It’s better than riding those plastic cocks you own, huh?” he chuckles, followed by a moan. “God, you feel so fucking good. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“‘m gonna—gonna cum, Satoru! ‘m so close! So close!”
“Do it. Cum on my cock.”
With that, your orgasm rip through you once more. Your legs quiver on top of Satoru and your chest making rapid up and down motions, letting you catch your breath while you half-lidded eyes try to open despite being fucked out after releasing another intense orgasm, but this time, on Satoru’s cock.
When you decided to get off Satoru’s still hard cock, he tells you to—
“Bend over the couch.”
And who were you to disobey?
Satoru positions your upper body to bend over the arm rest of the couch, placing a hand wrapped around the back of your neck. Wasting no time, Satoru plunges his cock inside of you again, making you let out a muffled whine.
This time, Satoru didn’t let you relax on his cock and continues to pump inside you in a fast pace. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts in and out of you. His gaze his on the lewd sight of your pussy taking him all in, observing the white ring around his cock.
Who knew he’d be fucking the smartest and shyest girl in his literature class? Who fucking knew that that shy and quiet girl is secretly a horny slut who is begging for him to fuck her harder until she can’t think?
“Oh, fuck! Satoru! Yesyesyes! Fuck me harder, please!”
“Easy.” he mumbles before fucking into you so deep that it reaches your cervix, making you grip the sheets of the couch and whine so loud that you’re sure that everyone in your apartment building heard how you’re being fucked so good.
As Satoru keeps his rough and fast pace consistent, you couldn’t seem to let out coherent words anymore and your eyes are now teary from the pleasure that Satoru is giving you. Your toes are curling and your hands are gripping the sheets as you feel yourself releasing another intense orgasm out of you.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum—gonna cum! ‘m close, Toru! Satoru! Fuck!”
“Yeah, cum on my cock again! Oh, god. Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!
Satoru quickly pulls out of you before he can release. His hand pumps his cock, releasing his cum on your back while your thighs are now soaked with your juices that drips down your legs. The two of you catch your breath but Satoru pulls you in to kiss you.
“You just proved me right, sweetheart,” he mumbles in between your kisses. “Now let’s work on that essay, yeah?” he pulls away and smiles, as if he didn’t just fucked the words and ideas out of you.
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© fushigowo | 2022 reblogs are appreciated <3
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celesteleoves · 5 months
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“DAMN, IT FEELS GOOD TO HAVE YOU.”
gojo satoru X reader.
summary: satoru never fails to showcase his love for you, even in the most serious moments.
warnings: none, just fluff!! (profanities are used…)
a/n: there is mentions of satorus infinity and before anyone corrects me on how it’s used, for the sake of this work, let’s ignore that. please send requests aswell!
-
“i like your eyes.” the 17 year old boy mumbled as he gazed into your eyes, your cheeks flushed and you pushed his head away.
“shut up, satoru.” you turned your face away from his as you two sat on a roof, admiring the sunset.
“never. life is a thousand times better when i’m with you. everything about you is like a refresher to me. damn, it feels good to have you.” satoru whispered as he pulled you closer to him by your waist, lifting his arm to move your hair out of your face.
you stared at your lover, mouth agape at his words. satoru never failed to showcase his love for you, even when you two were “just friends”. it’s different now, you have a label on your relationship.
you’d pray he’d stop with the sappy moments at some point, they almost bring you to tears everytime. he made you feel like you were worth more than you actually were.
“satoru, baby, enough. i’m gonna start crying.”
-
so, as the years went by, satoru never stopped showering you with those sappy moments your teen self adored to the core.
you two walked alongside each other, your students were training with the second years which meant you two could take a little walk around jujustu tech.
“your ass looks good in that uniform.” satoru spoke up, making you blush furiously.
now, his compliments were a bit outrageous, but some were sweet!
“gojo!”
“gojo?! not satoru, sheesh babe you’re hurting my heart.” he clutched his heart in fake agony as you rolled your eyes and lightly shoved his shoulder, expecting not to be able to touch him.
his infinity was off. normally, he has it on at all times. you’ve grown accustomed to the random moments where you two are together and all of a sudden you can no longer touch him because of the barrier his infinity creates.
“what’s up?” satoru notices your furrowed brows and frowns, his blindfold masking the adoration and worry that is present in his eyes.
“nothing. was just thinking about stuff.”
“you’re pretty when you’re concentrated on something. gosh, you’re always pretty.” satoru grinned as he walked closer to you, leaning down and kissing your forehead.
“i-” your words were forced to come to a halt when satoru’s phone rang.
“hello! gojo satoru speaking. oh. right now? alright. y/n and i will be there in a second.”
you tilted your head in confusion as he hung up the phone, making a disgusted noise.
“meeting with kyoto and the higher ups, for the exchange event.” satoru sighed and pulled you close to him, quickly arriving at the meeting room.
you sighed aswell, following satoru into the room as he loudly announced himself.
“hey! thought we had a meeting two days ago. what’s up with this? you interrupted my precious time with a pretty lady.” satoru faked cried as your face flushed, moving to take a seat beside shoko who was already rolling her eyes at his behaviour.
“take a goddamn seat, satoru.”
“woah, don’t get too feisty! not here!” satoru kept making jokes, your laughter being muffled by the arm of your uniform as you fake coughed.
satoru turned his attention to you, grinning even wider when he noticed you were struggling to stay formal.
he wasn’t making jokes for anyone else to laugh, he just wanted to see you smile. your perfect smile lightened up the whole room. it’s a shame you have to hide it around the higher ups when you are in meetings.
satoru tuned out everything principal yaga was saying, staring at you. he admired how concentrated you looked and how carefully you were listening to yaga’s words. he was talking about the students and you cherished them with your whole being. their safety was first priority and you always made that very clear with those around you.
he admired you, admired your motherly instincts you have that you claim to not have at all. he couldn’t wait to settle down with you, his beautiful wife. you weren’t married, you couldn’t be in a world like this. yet, he always called you his wife.
“gojo satoru, you ought to start listening as of right now.” yaga scowled and satoru leaned back into his seat, folding his arms as he grinned at yaga.
“sorry, yaga! i’m too focused on my wife’s beauty.” satoru grinned even wider at his words as he watched you from the corner of his eye.
you gasped, covering your face with one hand as you listened to satorus uncalled for words.
“alright, you two, leave. we can discuss this later, y/n please smack some sense into him.” yaga tiredly said as he waved you two out.
satoru was up in a second, dashing out the door with you.
“satoru! that was so uncalled for!”
“i know, that’s why i said it.”
“you’re such a little-”
“tease? ooh! didn’t know we were getting frisky in public spaces now.”
“satoru!” you laughed in disbelief and shoved him again as he giggled, following you down the hallway with love in his eyes.
“i love you,” he paused as you stopped and turned to him, “that’s why i say stuff like that, you deserve compliments every second of the day and i will continue to give them as long as i’m breathing.”
“you’re such a sap, i love you too.” you said with a soft tone, embracing satoru in a hug which he gladly returned, lifting you up and laughing.
you laughed alongside your husband, a man who you swear to be with until you can no longer breathe.
-
a/n: this was so lazy, yikes. there’s a shit ton of spelling errors but i’ll make up for it in my next work! please send requests aswell.
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wilwheaton · 1 year
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fuck you pat robertson
Pat Robertson walks past thousands of souls, smugly and full of pride, and cuts to the front of the line at the velvet rope in outside the entrance to his version of Heaven.
The bouncer looks up from their clipboard, observing Robertson with thousands of eyes in a swirling cascade of light.
"Pat Robertson," they say. "We've been expecting you."
Pat Robertson silently congratulates himself. He swells with joy. All those people who died from AIDS, natural disasters, even 9/11 ... they all deserved it. They were sinners!
The bouncer speaks into their headset. "He's here." They listen. "Yep. At the front of the line."
The bouncer turns most of its gaze back to Pat Robertson. "Just wait here for one moment, please."
Pat Robertson steps to one side and waits.
After one thousand years, he begins to wonder if there was a miscommunication.
"Excuse me," he says to the bouncer, "I am Pat --"
"Robertson. Yes. We know. We're just getting everything in order for you. It will just be one more moment."
Tens of thousands of victims of gun violence walk past him and enter Heaven. The population of an entire village, lost in a typhoon that was intensified by climate change, is welcomed. And still he waits.
They file past him, all the people he looked down on. All the people he hurt, directly and indirectly, don't even notice him as they pass. It's like he isn't even there.
Another thousand years pass. Pat Robertson realizes he hasn't had a thing to eat since he died and he is so very hungry.
"Hey!" He shouts at the bouncer. "What's the problem? Don't you know who I am?"
The bouncer rolls half a million eyes at once. "We know exactly who you are."
"Well, alright, then!" Pat Robertson spits out, exasperated, "if you aren't going to help me, get someone here who will!"
The bouncer speaks into its headset again. "We're ready."
A gibbering mass of what is mostly human flesh -- or was, once -- slithers / rolls / flops into Pat Robertson's view. It is covered with mouths that bleed and weep and click their teeth together. Enormous open sores swirl and burst and close and reopen and drip pus and viscera across blistering skin. The faint memory of a smell surrounds it, something like very old cigar smoke and very expensive liquor.
Pat Robertson tries to scream. Arm-like stalks extend from the quivering shape. One resembles a hand at the end of an arm, dripping viscera.
In a flash, it grabs Pat Robertson's hand and shakes it. Something hot and acidic splashes up on his arm, blinds him in one eye. He feels weak. Afraid. Alone. Confused.
Hundreds of mouths try to speak. Dozens of them vomit acrid bile that splashes across his chest. Dozens more silently spit out the lies they've been cursed to repeat for eternity to an audience who will never hear them again.
One mouth speaks clearly. So clearly, it's inside Pat Robertson's head and everywhere else all at once. "I'm Rush Limbaugh," it says. "I'm your new roommate. Come with me."
And that's when Pat Robertson knows. That's when it all hits him, all at once. He's getting everything he deserves.
The line to get into Heaven does not see or hear or notice him, or the Limbeast. They can't hurt anyone, anymore.
The cancerous mass of hate wraps its arm around his shoulder and just like that Pat Robertson finds himself in a vast parody of a cathedral. It's built of bones and flesh and lies. The walls writhe, and he sees that they are not bricks and lathe but bodies wrapped in confederate flags and wearing red hats.
The pews are filled to capacity with the souls of people who followed him in life, hated who he told them to hate. Only their hate is now focused on him, hot and unforgiving. Relentless.
Pat Robertson looks for his companion, but it has vanished. It has left him alone to suffer.
A sermon rises in his chest and pushes against his throat. Pat Robertson is compelled to speak, and as he does each word tears through him like broken glass. He spews his hate and his lies, just as he did in life. Only in this place, he doesn't feel the glee and the satisfaction he always did. No, he feels the pain and the suffering and the agony of every human being who he deliberately hurt. He. Feels. All. Of. It. He tries to stop speaking. Of course, he can not. He can not ever stop.
And Pat Robertson's eternity begins.
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moonlightpetalz6 · 9 months
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I'll Make It Better
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Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Vinsmoke Sanji 
Reader: fem reader 
Warning: harsh language, bruises, pet names, blood, suggestive nsfw (Zoro, Sanji)
Context: They spot a fresh bruise left on the reader and wish to kiss it all better~
Wc: 4,600
A/n: I would be so lucky! The number of random bruises I wake up with?! PLEASE KISS IT BETTER DADD- I’ll stop now hehe~
______________________________________________________________
LUFFY 
You sat on the thousand sunny humming to yourself as you carefully polished one of Sanji's cooking knives. You had been working on the Baratie with Sanji when the straw hat pirates had appeared. At first, you were scared, hiding behind any of your coworkers whenever the new busboy, Luffy, kept trying to speak to you. You knew he was a pirate as you watched him get in trouble for not paying for all the food he had eaten. Eventually, you came around to the rubber boy when you had been hiding from him in the kitchen, none of your coworkers currently available to be your human shield. Luffy was looking for you all around before spotting you trappin' you in the corner as he asked you to join his crew for the third time.
You recall Sanji yelling at him each time, stating that you weren't a fighter, just a waitress taking a few cooking lessons from everyone. However, Luffy never cared about that. "You make those yummy desserts, right?" He had asked you, a giant smile on his face, practically drooling over just the thought of your yummy sweets. You shyly nodded your head, still uncomfortable around the pirate. "Then join my crew! I want to keep eating your yummy sweets!" he laughed while placing a hand on your head, causing a tiny blush on your cheeks. Of course, you only agreed once you watched the straw hat defend the restaurant you grew to call home, making sure to give everyone proper goodbyes as you and Sanji set off on your new journey.
Smiling at the memory, you carefully place the newly polished kitchen knife with the others. “Y/n!!!!!!!” You heard the familiar voice of your captain shout, followed by arms wrapping around your shoulders. You smiled, a small blush on your cheeks as you felt his body press against your back. 'He's warm.' as the thought crossed your mind, you noticed Luffy leaning over you with a giant smile as his straw hat blocked some of the sun from your eyes. "Hi, Luffy." You giggled softly at your energetic captain, whose arms wrapped around you. "Y/n, I want something sweet!" He demanded, giving you his signature smile as he looked at you with bright eyes. You hum, turning your gaze away from him as you look up, trying to think of what you could make him. "Would you like something warm or cold? How sweet?" You started asking multiple questions about what kind of sweet he sought.
Luffy just watched you, not processing your words as he smiled lovingly whenever that childish light filled your eyes whenever you talked about desserts. It made him fall in love with you two years ago when you both went crazy over the desserts at a bakery you visited while Sanji shopped for ingredients. Luffy didn't say anything as he carefully went and held your chin between his thumb and index finger, causing you to freeze a slight blush on your cheeks. Luffy turned you to face him with a giant smile and laughed. "I want something sweet right now!" He declared before leaning in to kiss your lips. You squealed a small giggle muffled into the kiss as you happily accepted it.
Luffy hummed, satisfied with the kiss as his arms, still wrapped around your shoulders, gave a slight squeeze. You slightly flinched as you felt some pain in your right shoulder. Luffy instantly noticed the flinch and pulled away, his eyes examining you curiously, a slight pout on his cheeks. "What's wrong? Did I do something?" You internally cursed as you shook your head, not liking the sad puppy look your boyfriend/captain gave you. "N-no! It's not you!" you stammered quickly, sitting on your knees as you shook your hands in front of your face. "I-it was just my shoulder, is all…" You trailed off, not wanting to make eye contact with your boyfriend. "Your shoulder?" He questioned before carefully sliding the fabric of your shirt away from the area you had mentioned.
Luffy's eyes widened as he saw the freshly formed bruise covering your usually untouched skin. "WHAT HAPPENED?!?!" He cried, worried as he looked at your shoulder, unsure what to do as he knew you're not a fighter and your pain tolerance isn't the best. "I'll go get Chopper!" as he's getting up to find the doctor, you grab his wrist, stopping him as you laugh, a giant smile on your face. "Haha! Luffy, it's just a bruise! It will be gone within a few days!" Your boyfriend pouts his eyes, not leaving the tainted flesh on your shoulder. You just smiled carefully, placing your hand over it, your fingers barely touching the tender skin. "It must have happened earlier when I was helping Sanji carry some of the heavy bags. I ended up bumping into the doorframe." You admitted with a content nod.
Luffy just stared at your shoulder, not saying a word before he went and sat on his butt, legs spread open as he held his arms out towards you. You hum, looking at him curiously, before crawling to the spot between his legs. Luffy watches you sit comfortably between his legs before wrapping his arms around your waist. "How much does it hurt?" He asked, resting his chin on your head as he lifted a hand to poke at the bruise softly. You cringe a bit, causing Luffy to mumble an apology. "It just hurts a little, is all. Honestly, Luffy, I'm fine! It's not the first time I've had a-!!!" You stop speaking as a deep blush covers your cheeks, eyes comprehensive.
Luffy sat there, his lips carefully pressed against the bruise, his hand cupping your shoulder. "L-Luffy?!" You squeak, surprised at his sudden loving gesture. Luffy pulls away from the kiss and smiles at you, his arms pulling your waist closer to him as he lets out a loud laugh. "Shishishi! Your kisses are always sweet, so if I keep kissing the bruise, the sweetness will make it go away, right?!" He looked at you with joy-filled eyes and a slight blush. You looked at him in awe before a gentle smile graced your face as you lightly kissed his cheek.
"Mhm! I love you, Luffy!"
______
ZORO
You quietly tiptoed your way onto the thousand sunny. The crew had docked at a small island for a few weeks, and today, you had gone out drinking with Nami, the two of you wanting to party once again like you used to when you both joined the crew early on. "Do you think they're all asleep?" You whispered, glancing back at the navigator, who was also trying her best to be quiet. "For your sake, I hope so." She muttered, her head gesturing towards the hand covering your eye. You just scoffed, rolling the visible eye. "Let's just get to the infirmary." She nods as both of you sneak through the dark halls of the ship. "How are you feeling?" Nami asks as you both reach the door to Choppers' work area.
Relief washed over you when the lights turned on, and the room was empty. "Sit in the chair; I'll get the first aid kit." You do as Nami says, tossing your coat on the back of the chair before sitting with a loud sigh. "I didn't know how tired I was." You muttered, causing Nami to laugh as she walked to you, kit in hand. You watched her place it on the table, slowly taking what you needed out. "Well, I could be wrong, but I think a big part of that could be what happened there." She gestured to her left eye, a sly smile on her face. You hum, leaning back in the chair, hand still covering the irritated area. "Whatever, let's just get this over with." Before either of you could do anything else, the door opened, causing you to jump as you both turned to see who entered the room.
You felt your heart stop as the little color you had left in your face drained out. There in the doorway stood your highly protective boyfriend, Roronoa Zoro. You clenched your jaw and refused to move even slightly from your spot. Zoro looked at the two of you; his brow raised as he stopped messing with the bandage on his hand. "You two are back? What are you doing here?" he grumbled, assuming you would still be out enjoying your night. You cleared your throat, avoiding the swordsman, not wanting him to notice anything wrong. Nami just laughed as she stood before you, waving a hand.
"We just got tired! Y/n and I wanted to ensure we treated any cuts from our heels!" You commended Nami for how fast she made excuses in tense situations. Earlier that day, you and Zoro had gotten into a fight because he didn't want you only going out drinking with Nami, saying how it isn't like it used to be, and now that you were all famous pirates, danger lurked all around. Of course, you both ended up yelling at each other. One yelled how he needed to go with you both, while the other yelled how he was being overprotective. It ended with both of you storming away, not speaking for the rest of the day. 'Fuck, why him.' you thought while closing your eye; a headache started.
Zoro looked at you both, his eye narrowing in suspicion as he let out a small grunt before wrapping his wound in fresh bandages. "I see…" He mumbled, grabbing what he needed. You just sat staring at the wall, praying he would hurry up and leave. To your dismay, Zoro sat on the edge of the small bed across from you girls. He looked up at you, eye narrowed, a blank expression on his face. "Don't let me stop you then." Nami flinched, sweat trickling down her neck as she glanced back at you, unsure what to do. You bit your lip mentally, cursing your luck as your leg started shaking up and down. Zoro continued to wrap his hand, his gaze not falling from his nervous crewmates. You let out a deep sigh as you gave Nami a small smile. "It's fine. You get some rest, okay? It was a long night." You admitted while shooing her off with your free hand. Nami hesitated, looking back from you to Zoro, who waited patiently, arms resting on his knees.
"Okay…shout if you need anything. You get one free service from me as thanks for tonight." You scoffed, hitting her arm as she gave you one last smile before leaving the two of you alone. "What happened?" Wow, straight to the point, huh? You thought while sparing him a slight glance. "It was nothing." You mumbled, turning to him fully. "Are you done wrapping your wound now?" practically hinting that you want him to hurry up and leave. Zoro scoffed at your attitude as he stood up straight, brows furrowed. "It's like that, huh?" the two of you glared at one another, both too full of pride to back down. You didn't want to admit to him that, in a way, he was right about having to tag along earlier.
Zoro lets out a deep sigh as he stands up, heading towards the door. You feel your heartache as you open your mouth to call his name but stop yourself looking down at the ground. 'It's for the best. After all, it will only be another fight.' As the thought crosses your mind, you hear the door lock, causing your head to turn back. Zoro stands in front of the door, his face expressionless as his eyes lock with yours. "Zoro?" You question your boyfriend, trying to understand what he was planning. The swordsman said nothing as he slowly made his way over to your seated figure. You look away, feeling your nerves starting to get the better hand. Zoro quickly catches your chin lightly between his thumb and index finger. "Y/n…look at me, baby." Your heart dropped at his words as tears instantly filled your eyes. His voice was so gentle and filled with worry, a sound only you would ever hear from your usually uncaring boyfriend. You sighed as you removed your hand while slowly lifting your head to him.
Once your eyes met Zoro's, you instantly felt his grip on your chin tighten, his body going stiff as his eyes filled with rage. "Is it that bad?" you tried to ease the tension, quickly taking over the infirmary with a small laugh. Unfortunately, your boyfriend wasn't in a laughing mood. Oh no, Zoro was seething with rage as he stared down at your swollen and bruised eye. He noted where some dried blood stained the injury, indicating that you and Nami must have stopped the bleeding earlier after the incident. "You were bleeding." To his surprise, Zoro kept calm as he went and caressed that area of the wound, causing you to flinch, a hiss of pain leaving your lips.
"It wasn't that bad, honestly…it just covered one rag." One rag? One fucking rag of your blood?! Zoro looked up at the ceiling, his neck flexing from anger as he took a deep breath. "What happened?" He whispered, feeling his composure falter as he looked at the wound. "This jerk at the bar! He wasn't taking no for an answer and tried dragging Nami off! So, I kicked him in the knee, and…he didn't like it…" You trailed off, watching Zoro's expression go from calm to pure rage as he clenched his jaw teeth, looking like they would break. You quickly tug his wrist with a nervous smile as you try to laugh off the situation. "H-hey! If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy! This is nothing!"
Zoro grips both sides of your face, his eye boring into yours. "I'll kill him." He growled, the veins in his neck starting to pop out. You looked at your boyfriend briefly before tears began falling down your face. "Zoro! Zoro, it hurts!" Emotions finally took over as your sobs filled the room. Zoro's grip instantly loosened as he kissed all around your face, his lips hovering above your bruised eye. "Shhh. It's over now, baby. I'll kiss it all better." He mumbled while you whined slightly, signaling he could kiss the wound lightly. He chuckled as he sank to his knees to be at eye level with you. "Do you feel better?" He asked while wiping away your last few tears.
You nod, giving him a small smile. "I'm sorry, Zoro…you were right." he frowned at your words, his hands softly squeezing your thighs. "Shut up," he muttered while pressing his lips to yours. You jumped back slightly due to the shock of the sudden kiss. Zoro smirked while gently biting your bottom lip, earning a slight whine as you opened your mouth, allowing Zoro to slip his tongue in. He hums in approval while still massaging your thighs with his rough hands. After a moment, Zoro pulls away a tiny string of saliva hanging from his lips. He examines your face, seeing the deep blush on your cheeks, your lips wet from the kiss as you take a few tiny breaths.
He licked his lips as he cupped your cheek in his hand, gently caressing the area below your bruised eye with his thumb. "You're so beautiful." He whispered, admiring every part of you with his good eye. "Tch. Yeah right. In case you forgot, I have this hideous mark on my face." You gestured towards your eye with a frown on your face. Zoro hummed while dipping his face into the crook of your neck, his hands sliding up and down your thighs with occasional squeezes. "You're still beautiful…" Zoro trails off while leaving kisses up and down your neck until he finds that sweet spot, lightly biting down. "Z-zoro!" you yelp in surprise while trying to push him away. He doesn't budge as he starts to leave small hickeys and bite marks down your neck and across your collarbone. You let out a few soft moans while lightly ruffling his hair. "Zoro…" You whisper, earning a slight hum as he brings his face up to yours, giving a quick kiss as he squeezes your thighs, causing a familiar feeling between them.
"Sorry…if that bastard's mark makes you feel ugly, I wanted to leave my marks that you've said make you feel beautiful…" You blush at his words, feeling your chest flutter as he goes and leaves tender kisses all over your face again. "Do you want me to stop, baby? We can cuddle instead…" He whispered, resting his head against yours. You close your eye in thought as you process all of today's events and let out a small sigh. "As much as it pains me, I'll have to go for cuddles tonight." You sigh dramatically, earning a grunt from your lover, who rolls his eyes while standing up. "Dramatic woman." He joked as he went and started to mess with the items Nami had gotten out earlier for your eye. He kissed you before holding the things up towards your wound.
"Hold still for me Y/n baby."
________
SANJI 
"Do I have to?" You whine, sitting on your bed and watching Nami and Robin go through your swimsuits. Nami looked at you, rolling her eyes as she tossed another. "Oh, come on, Y/n! It's such a nice day out!" She yelled while Robin gave a small smile, holding a swimsuit up for you to judge. You looked at it momentarily before nodding your head in approval as she handed the fabric to you. "Fine! But only because Robin picked a cute one!" You scoffed, walking away from the two girls who high-fived each other. You quickly change into the swimsuit, taking a quick scan in the mirror before your eyes land on your thighs. You puff out your cheeks when you notice the bruises. 'Oh, come on! I keep waking up to these.' Your eye twitched in annoyance as you stormed out of the room to join the girls already in their swimsuits on deck.
You walk onto the deck, scanning the area before your eyes land on Nami and Robin, who send a wave your way. "Oh wow! You're wearing a swimsuit?!" You heard Usopp call in amazement, not used to seeing you in anything that shows too much skin. "Yep! So, soak it all in, boys~" You tease your crewmates, who just laugh at you. With one more scan, you nod your head, noticing that your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen. Otherwise, you would have a problem on your hands. You plop down next to the girls with a heavy sigh as you lean back, taking in the sun's rays. "Oh my, did something happen, Y/n?" Robin asked, noticing the minor bruises on your thighs. Nami hummed as she sipped her drink, eyes following Robin's gaze.
"Oh yeah! These appear sometimes!" You laugh, waving off their concern as you look back at the bruises. As you girls talk, Usopp walks into the kitchen to grab water due to the day's heat. Everything was nice and peaceful, the air filled with a nice calm-" SHE WHAT?!?!" A sudden voice boomed throughout the ship, causing everyone to jump. The three of you turn your heads as the door to the kitchen flies open with a loud bang. Before anyone could even blink, Sanji is in front of you on his knee; a hand extended out towards you as your boyfriend looks up at you with giant hearts for eyes, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "OH MY DARLING Y/N, WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE OUT?!?!" He cooed hearts surrounding him like no end.
You sat there staring at your romantic pervert of a boyfriend in awe before smiling, a laugh leaving your lips. "Sanji! Haha! You don't have to make it such a big deal!" You laughed, causing your boyfriend to gush as he did a small dance around you. "Y/n~ my darling~" He sang, going and wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind. You hummed, leaning back into your boyfriend's touch as the girls smiled, shaking their heads. "He hasn't looked at Y/n yet, has he?" Nami mumbled while Robin giggled, lifting her book over her mouth. Sanji hummed, having completely forgotten why he ran out in such a panic as he went and looked down at you.
You watched as Sanji's face went from pure bliss to shocked silly as his eyes fell onto your exposed cleavage. Sanji's eyes practically bulged out of his head as they darted around your form, taking in every piece of exposed skin you were showing. Sanji's smile widened as blood started gushing from his nose, causing everyone to sigh as Chopper panicked and quickly got to work. You just laughed, shaking your head while enjoying the sun.
After about half an hour, Sanji shot up from the deck, a white cloth stained red from his blood sticking out from his nose. The cook's head quickly darts around, trying to find your form. "She went to the kitchen to get a drink," Robin whispered, not taking her eyes off the book she was reading. Sanji jumped up with a smile on his face as he went and placed a kiss on Robin's hand. "Thank you, my dear Robin~" Sanji sang, running towards the kitchen. Before opening the door, Sanji took a second to compose himself, getting ready to see your form again in that sexy swimsuit. A tiny bit of blood trickled from his nose just at the thought. With a few slaps to the face, Sanji took a deep breath before pushing the door open.
"Oh good, you're awake!" You cheered, sitting on one of the tables with a cup of water in your hand. Sanji stood in the doorway, frozen stiff as he took in your appearance. You were just too sexy sitting in his kitchen in such revealing fabric. Sanji took a deep breath before heading towards you with a giant smile as he extended his arms for a hug. "Y/n, my love~" He sang before wrapping his arms around you, pulling your exposed flesh closer to his body. Once your body's connected, you can feel Sanji aggressively shiver as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "You look so gorgeous, cupcake~ absolutely stunning~" He purred, his hands trailing over your body.
You laugh, a slight blush on your cheeks as you place the cup of water behind you before playing with your boyfriend's hair. "Sanji~ do you like me better like this or in my usual clothes?" You teased, already knowing what his answer was going to be. "No matter what you wear, mon chéri, I will love you until my heart stops beating~" He purred, kissing your neck. You giggle, moving slightly to make yourself more comfortable. However, this allowed Sanji to glimpse at your thighs, noticing the bruised skin. The atmosphere in the room instantly became tense, causing you to look down at the cook in confusion. "Sanji?" You watched as his body twitched.
"Who did it?" You tilt your head in confusion, barely hearing what your boyfriend whispered, not moving his head from your neck. "Come again?" You questioned innocence laced throughout your words. Sanji looked at you, eyes filled with anger as he clenched his jaw. Then, you noticed his firm grip on the table you sat on, causing you to grow concerned. "Who hurt you? Who dares to taint your precious skin, mon amour? I won't let them live another day!" He growled, rage-filled-eyed, locking with your shocked and innocent ones. You just stared at him briefly before smiling, your laugh soon echoing off the kitchen walls, catching the man by surprise. "Haha! Oh my, you made me scared for a second!" Your comment makes Sanji flinch, as he never wants to scare his precious girl. "I'm sorry, mon amour…" he looked down, feeling guilty for frightening you. You watched him for a moment before your body suddenly jumped. Sanji had placed his hand on your thigh, gently caressing the bruises with his rough thumb. You blushed at his sudden action, watching as his eyes became serious, focusing on nothing but the discolored skin.
You felt your body relax as you carefully cupped Sanji's cheek, causing him to hum as he instantly leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as a small smile blessed his face. "I'm okay, Sanji. I wake up with bruises sometimes; it's no big deal! I promise no one hurt me~" You laughed, giving him that bright smile he loved more than anything. Your words take a second for him to process before a giant smile crosses his face, his eyes lighting up. "Oh, I see! That used to happen to me when I was a kid!" He cheered, his tone utterly different from the one he had just moments ago. You smile gently, kissing his cheek, causing him to blush as he looks at you shyly. "Not fair." You giggle at him while he caresses your thigh, causing a bit of heat to rise within your body.
"S-sanji…you don't have to keep caressing my thigh." You whispered, feeling embarrassed as you tried to move back from him. However, he suddenly pins you to the table, causing you to let out a small gasp as you stare up at him in awe. He looks down at your eyes filled with lust and love as he gives a sly smirk. "mon amour…earlier when I asked you about the bruises, I felt your body tense in fear but also…" Sanji trails off as he leans next to your ear, gently nibbling on the skin, causing you to flinch as a small whimper leaves your lips. Sanji's warm breath hits the tender flesh, causing your heart to go wild as his other hand goes and pulls your lower half closer to Sanji.
“Pleasure am I correct mon amour?” His words caused you to shiver as Sanji chuckled, taking the unlit cigarette from his lips and trucking it behind his ear. "Did I make you excited Y/n~? Did you like me getting mad?" He teased you while slowly sliding down to your lower half. You blush heavily while quickly trying to get up. "S-sanji! Not here!" You hissed, checking the door to ensure no one walked in on the inappropriate scene from the other side. Sanji hummed, amused with your sudden shyness as he went and bit the inner part of your thigh, causing you to jump once more, this time a small moan escaping your lips. "You said these bruises appear when you're sleeping, right?" He mumbled, placing light kisses up and down your thigh, his eyes watching your every expression.
Sanji loved teasing his girlfriend; your expressions were just too cute and sexy for him to ignore. "How about I make sure to inspect your body every morning for any bruises that suddenly appear?" He purred, going and leaving a hickey on your soft flesh before rising back up and pulling you closer to him, your crotches pressed against one another as he smiled, cupping your cheeks, a deep blush coating his cheeks. "Sanji…" You whispered his name so sweet it caused him to shiver as he went and placed his thumb in your mouth while caressing your chin.
"Mon amour…. can I cover those filthy marks with my own loving ones?" 
______________________________________________________________
A/n: AAAAAAAH I had fun making this one! I hope you all enjoy!
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spirit-lanterns · 7 months
Text
THIRST COMMENTS
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synopsis: (celebrity! AU) reacting to thirst comments with your celebrity girlfriend. (part 1/2) part 2 here.
featuring: kafka, himeko, serval, yukong, topaz
rating: 18+ suggestive (men and minors dni)
warnings: celebrity! fem reader, no smut but very suggestive, mentions of strap ons, mentions of tit-sucking, jealousy, possessiveness, secret relationships, teasing, sugar mommy relationship (topaz), se.xual innuendos, dirty talk, mentions of mommy, milf, legal age gap relationship (yukong), may be ooc.
art credits: act-age
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KAFKA
“Anonymous said: I will let Kafka break my back like a glow stick.”
Kafka’s eyes widened slightly and she let out an amused chuckle, staring at the camera with a subtle, yet flirtatious grin. “My, my…I had no idea my fans were quite the masochists.” She hums into the mic, trailing a seductive finger across her lips and whispering in a lower tone. “Perhaps I should star in an 18+ BDSM movie at some point. What do you think, darling?”
Kafka gave you a teasing nudge and you laughed as you continued scrolling through Twitter for more thirst comments. The two of you have been invited to read thirst comments on the set of one of those giant social media platforms, but the crew had no idea that you and Kafka were actually dating behind closed doors. They had just invited you both since you were frequent co-stars for various films, yet they didn’t anticipate the amount of tension you two would have while being filmed without any scripts. 
“Only if I get to star as the main girl.” You reply teasingly, Kafka giving you a light flick on the forehead as you laughed and read the next comment. “Okay, okay, here. Here’s another thirst comment for you,” you say jovially, handing Kafka your phone. 
“Hmm, I’ve been getting too many of these recently.” She chuckles, taking your phone and reading the next thirst comment out loud.
“@/itsmeanobody said: I know she’s strapped and I’m not talking about the gun.” 
Kafka let out a breathy laugh and covered her mouth with her hands, clearly flattered by the subtle innuendo. “Oh, dear…”
“I can confirm, she is very strapped.” You smile at the camera, giving it a playful wink and watching as the director’s face slowly morphed into one of shock. Kafka squeezed your thigh under the table to hush you with your words, causing you to gasp under her grip. “Shhhh, careful dear. You don’t want to tease the fans too much…” She grins and reads the next comment, eyes widening slightly as she reads it out loud. 
“Speaking of the fans. This next comment sure is interesting. Anonymous said: "When Kafka came on screen, so did I.” 
Your secret girlfriend bites her lip at the comment and can’t help but let a few laughs escape her throat. “You naughty, naughty fans…” Kafka purrs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer against her. “I didn’t expect my fanbase to be so dirty.”
“Well, have you seen the ten thousand TikTok edits of you in Flash and Furious (Parody of Fast and Furious)? I’ve seen more content on you than anything else from the movie.”
“Awe, come on,” Kafka pouts, giving your cheek a little squeeze and giving a snide smile to the camera. “Can you blame me? I was cast in such a sexy role.”
“I think I was sexier.”
“Yeah, you were.” 
Kafka grins lazily and sits back upright, the tension so unbearably strong, all the people on set were blushing and sweating under the stage lights. You and Kafka didn’t mind, though. As celebrities, you knew the tension between you was more than enough to have fans buzzing, and despite actually dating in real life, you wanted to keep the buzz going. 
“Mm, one last thirst comment before we move on to your turn, dear.” Kafka says as her eyes trail down to your phone. “Anonymous said: I want Kafka to mess up my insides with that big strap she hides in the back.” 
After that very bold comment, Kafka sucked in a breath and watched as you frowned slightly in a bit of jealousy. Though you were aware that fans often thirsted for both you and Kafka, you couldn’t help but grow a bit jealous as fans wanted so desperately to sleep with your girlfriend. 
“Actually, that big strap is just for m—”
Kafka quickly covered your mouth. 
“Haha, we’ll be right back!”
After your accidental slip up, the camera was cut and Kafka turned to you with a knowing smile. “Darling, are you jealous?” She chuckles with a sly grin. “About four comments in and this one is the one that gets you all riled up?” 
“It’s true though, that strap is mine and mine only.” You whisper into her ear, giggling a little before playfully shoving her. “What, like you wouldn’t get jealous when it’s my turn.” 
“I happen to be very good at concealing my emotions though, dear.” Kafka replies in a sultry tone. “Besides, you’re the only girl who’s bed I would willingly climb in.” She grins and lowers her voice to a husky whisper. “And the only girl who’s insides I’d ruin with that ‘big strap’ of mine.”
Your cheeks heat up at her words and you feel a jolt of arousal pulse at your core. 
“Ugh…stop trying to turn me on, we're still in the middle of filming.” You mumble.
“Sorry, sorry.” Kafka replies before resting her chin on her hands. “Why don’t you begin reading your thirst comments, darling. I promise, I won’t even get jealous.” 
She laughs and gives you a flirtatious wink, causing you to roll your eyes and signal the director that you were ready to continue filming. “Sure, sure. I bet your face would turn all green from envy.”
“We’ll just see about that.” Kafka smirks. “Go on, let’s continue shall we?”
“Oh, sure.” You smile, playing along as you knew Kafka would eventually fall prey to her jealousy. “This thirst comment says…”
And you watch with joy as Kafka’s hand twitches slightly at the start, making you smile with amusement as your girlfriend was not as good at concealing her emotions as she said.
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HIMEKO
“Anonymous said: If Himeko’s breasts are feeling a bit heavy and in pain, I’d gladly suck the pain away.”
After reading the first thirst comment, Himeko’s face flushed bright red with embarrassment. Her hand instinctively shot out for yours under the table, as she tried her best to remain calm in front of all the cameras. “O-Oh…Oh my…” she laughs a bit nervously, unsure of what to do with the raw desire of some of her fans. “That is uh, well…thank you for the offer, anonymous commenter. Your generosity is quite admirable.”
You chuckled softly at Himeko’s attempts to remain calm and polite, before cupping her hand under the table and giving it a comforting squeeze. “To be fair, Himeko does have a nice chest.”
“Hey—”
Himeko narrowed her eyes at you before instantly smiling and jabbing at your sides. To the public, you were just a pair of co-stars who had “intimate” moments with each other that seemed to spice up your careers. But behind closed doors, you and Himeko were closer than ever, as you had secretly gotten together after the filming of your latest movie. 
“But it’s true, Himeko has a very nice figure. It’s nice to admire it once in a while.” 
“Darling, that's called being a pervert.”
“No, it’s called appreciating your beauty.”
You smiled and winked at her, causing Himeko’s face to flush as red as her hair. Your tension was a lot more…romantic than some of the other celebrities in the industry, and whenever you and Himeko got together, you always made her laugh. 
“This next comment is from another anonymous user. Anonymous said: "Everyone repeat after me, Mommy Himeko.” 
Himeko raised a brow at this, confused by this certain comment. “…Darling, what do they mean by… ‘Mommy Himeko?’ I don’t have children yet.”
You burst out laughing at her reaction, Himeko’s obliviousness to the comment clearly showing her age. “Himeko, they’re calling you mommy because you’re very…mother material. In a hot way.” You clarified, Himeko only growing more confused at this. “In a hot way? Isn’t that ince—”
“No no no—!”
You took a brief intermission pause and cut the cameras. After a good two minutes of explaining to Himeko what being called “mommy” meant, the cameras were turned back on, as you and Himeko sat back in your seats.
“And we’re back!” You exclaim jovially, your girlfriend Himeko just hiding her face on the table as steam poured out of her ears. Too embarrassed after realizing what being “mommy material” was. “Sorry about the cut, I had to teach old grandma Himeko what being a Mommy meant.” 
“I’m not…old.” Himeko grumbles against the table. “Let’s just read the next thirst comment already.”
You chuckle and slide Himeko your phone for her to read, the redhead hesitantly picking up the device and reading the first comment that caught her eye. “@/sinsmockingbird said: Ahhhh the need to suck on Himeko’s titties is so strongggg”
“…Again with the tit-sucking.” You chuckle behind your hand, Himeko’s face burning even brighter than before as she groaned. “I— how do people say these things on the internet…” Himeko stutters, her eyes unable to look at the cameras and choosing to stare at the floor. “I am just…shocked at how bold people can be.”
“Yeah, the internet can be pretty bold at times.” You laugh softly, running a comforting hand through your girlfriend’s soft locks. “Do you wanna do one more thirst comment before it’s my turn?” 
“Ah…I suppose.” Himeko says with an awkward expression, mustering up the courage to read another comment. “It can’t be that bad after this, right?”
No. She severely underestimated how down bad her fanbase actually was. 
“Anonymous said: I would totally have a threesome with (Reader) and Himeko. They can punish me whenever.” 
After reading that final comment out loud, Himeko couldn’t help but let her face slowly fall as she reread the comment multiple times. 
“…Wow. I didn’t expect that comment to be in there.” You laughed softly, a little surprised yourself as you had no idea Himeko’s fans would also be lusting after you. “That must mean we’re a pretty hot couple, eh Himeko?”
You nudged her playfully, expecting her to nudge you back like you always did for your playful banters, but Himeko said nothing. Just staring at the thirst comment in silence as her eyes kept trailing over the words like it was a paragraph. 
“…Himeko?” 
“Hm? Oh. Sorry.” She smiles softly and looks up at the camera, flashing her signature smile like nothing was wrong. “Thank you for the flattering comment, anon.” 
You felt shivers go down your spine as an aura of uneasiness swept across your body. Normally Himeko would be embarrassed or not understand what the comment was implying, yet this time she was being eerily calm and it was starting to spook you a bit.
“H-Himeko? Ah—!”
You quickly closed your mouth as Himeko trailed a hand down to your hips and gave it a possessive squeeze. Her face was still neutral to appease to the cameras as she slowly turned to you with a smile. “…I believe it’s your turn now, dear.” She says in a calm tone, her hand still holding you roughly which was very unlike Himeko’s usual personality. 
“Wh— I…okay…” was Himeko jealous? One look at her eyes and you instantly could tell, she was going to wreck you later on the car ride home.
“Well, go on. Let’s read the first thirst comment together, shall we?” Himeko hums, sliding the phone over to you and ensnaring your fate.
“…Yes ma’am.” You say in a softer tone, shakily picking up the phone to read your thirst comments, and praying for your legs later tonight.
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SERVAL
“@/lindseynguyen said: I want Serval to play me like how she plays her guitar. Rough and hard.”
Serval wheezes after reading that and hides her face into the table, laughing like a lawnmower gone bad as she struggles to keep herself from dying. “I ca— what the heck…” she’s close to tears and you have to hit her on the back to stop herself from choking. “Serval…get it together girl.”
“I can’t—” she’s laughing so much and has a bashful blush spreading across her face. The cameras capturing the radiant smile of famous singer; Serval Landau, who could capture the hearts of millions just by existing. “Just— holy sh*t. My fans are so bold.”
She flashes a wink at the camera and grins. “Don’t worry Lindsey, I’ll play my guitar extra hard for you in my next concert. Have a fun time.” 
She bursts out into giggles again and pulls you closer to stabilize herself. The two of you are just a bubbling mess as you couldn’t stop yourselves from giggling like a bunch of school girls.
“Okay okay, next comment…” you ushered playfully, smacking Serval on the arm and showing her the next thirst comment. Your girlfriend takes the phone and lets her eyes scan over the comment, bracing herself for what’s to come. 
“Anonymous said: Me if I was the guitar 🤰”
Serval’s eyes widened and she couldn’t help but choke a bit. 
“…If that’s the case. I got a lot of guitars pregnant in my time.” 
She smiles at you flirtatiously and you can’t help but give Serval the death glare. She grins like the mischievous woman that she was and gives your thigh a teasing squeeze from underneath the table. “You’re a weirdo.” You say through giggles, knowing exactly what Serval was talking about as she stares at you.
“Oh, I know.” She giggles back. “But you’d let this weirdo get you preg—”
You playfully kick her shin under the table and Serval winces mid sentence. “AH—!”
The cameras cut for a brief intermission and a few minutes later you were back to filming. With Serval rubbing her shin and making a pathetic “sad” face from your “abuse.”
“You’re so mean…” Serval pouts, resting her face on your shoulder. “Can you kiss it all better?”
“You’re a grown adult, Serval.” You laugh, giving her a gentle pat on the head. “I’m not your babysitter.”
“Yeah, but you could be my mo—”
“Next thirst comment!”
You smiled at the cameras and pulled Serval closer so she could react to the next Twitter comment. Her face immediately lying against yours as she got comfortable beside you. 
“Anonymous said: Not a waiter, but I would take her tip.”
Both you and Serval absolutely lose it at this one, the singer sucking in air through her teeth and trembling as she tries so hard not to scream. “Oh god…” Serval is smiling so hard her lips hurt. “Well uh, that’s…quite the compliment.” 
“Just an FYI for all you Serval fans,” you chuckle, leaning in closer to whisper at the camera. “Serval doesn’t have the tip—”
“HEY—!” 
You laugh as your girlfriend gets offended by that and moves to pull you back from the camera. “Hush now, there are people watching!” You roll your eyes and hold the next thirst comment in front of her for her to read. “What, the video is explicit enough anyways. Just read the next comment so it can be my turn!” You were excited to see what the comments would be about you, so you ushered Serval to hurry up and read the last comment. 
“Okay okay!” The singer exclaims, taking the phone and reading the next thirst comment, which ended up being the most downbad and horny comment Serval had ever seen.
“@/itsmeanobody said: Her strap is purple and sparkly. Was on it last night 🤭”
Serval’s face grew flushed and you couldn’t help but raise a brow at the mention of her strap. Though you weren’t jealous by any means, the words spilled out of your mouth faster than you could control. 
“Well actually, Serval’s favorite strap is hot pink with ridges instead of spark—”
Your girlfriend stared at you with wide eyes and you suddenly realized what you were saying. Both you, your girlfriend, and all the producers in the studio were all blushing red and laughing nervously before cutting the cameras. “Oh sh*t.” You laughed, Serval blushing red before smiling bashfully and giving your head a small smack. “You dumbass…” she laughs, pulling you closer for a brief hug.
“You’re gonna regret saying that later…”
Your eyes widened at her darkened tone yet Serval resumed her playful and relaxed nature, glancing at the director and making small talk with them as if it were nothing. “Could we cut that part out? We could just resume where we left off and continue onto her turn, yeah?”
The director nodded and gave a thumbs up, the cameras clicking back on as Serval ran her fingers down your back. “Let’s hurry up and get this video done with, hm? Go on, read your thirst comments.” She speaks in a gravelly tone, causing you to swallow nervously as you pick up the phone to begin reading your own comments. 
You knew what was waiting for you the moment you got home.
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YUKONG
“Anonymous said: At this rate, No Nut November is gonna turn into Nonstop Nut November.”
Yukong raised a brow at this comment and glanced over at you with a confused expression. “Uhm…what is ‘No Nut November?’” Yukong asked with genuine confusion. She was one of the older actresses within the acting industry, so it was common sense that Yukong wouldn’t know a thing about modern terms and slang. 
“Uh…it’s like…” you chewed your bottom lip and tried to think of a way to explain it to your older girlfriend. “Uh, perhaps we should move on?”
“No, no no no.” Yukong frowned and stared at you with that intimidating, motherly look that made you feel like a child being scolded by your mother. “What is No Nut November. I want to know.” 
You winced and made a hand gesture for the cameras to stop filming. 
“Cut!”
There was a brief intermission pause and after a few moments, the cameras resumed to Yukong sitting in her seat with a shocked expression on her face. Her eyes wide with newfound understanding for the younger generation, as she looked like she had just discovered the meaning of the universe.
“…Yukong?”
“Why do younger people call masturbation ‘nutting.’” She sighs, rubbing her temple in dismay. “That— it doesn’t have anything to do with nuts?!”
“Let’s…Let’s just move on to the next comment.” You laugh nervously, rubbing a comforting hand against your lover’s back. 
“@/chucapybara said: When Yukong is done with me, I’m not the only one with granny knees by morning ✌️”
Your girlfriend looks almost offended by that and seems to gloss over the sexual innuendo written in that sentence. “Granny knees?! I am not that old…!”
“Well…” you stifle a chuckle and look away, Yukong glaring at you briefly before glancing at the cameras. “Oh please, not you too…”
“Awe, but there’s nothing wrong with being older, Yukong…” you giggle softly, teasing your partner by running a hand over her thigh. “You know I love the age difference…”
Yukong tenses up at your purr and she can’t help but grow excited with the way you were stroking her thigh. Sure Yukong was one of the older people within the acting industry, but hooking up with you was one of the best decisions she has ever made in her life, even if you were several years younger than her. 
“I…suppose you are right.” Yukong sighs, a small smile breaching her lips. “Let’s move on then, shall we?” 
She makes a move to read over the next comment, but it only leaves her more confused than ever. 
“Anonymous said: MILF MILF MILF YUKONG IS SUCH A MILF THAT CAN TAKE CARE OF ME AND RUIN ME, MOMMY I'M ON MY KNEES PRAYING THAT THE LORD FORGIVE MY SINS.”
Immediately after reading that, Yukong turns to you with the utmost expression of concern. The poor woman was still trying to comprehend what she had just read and seemed genuinely worried for the well-being of her fans. “Dear, what is a milf?”
A look of discomfort spread across your face as you sucked in a bunch of cold air between your teeth. You weren’t sure if you should tell Yukong what a milf was, and was starting to regret accepting the invite to be on this show. 
“Uhhh…they’re saying that you’re very attractive.” You say with a bit of hesitance, barely lying through your teeth in order to not tell her the true definition.
“Ah, really?” Yukong smiled at the flattering compliment. “I see then…”
She leans forward and grins innocently. “You’re a milf then, dear. A very nice milf.”
You choked on your spit and the cameras cut for a moment. Once you regained your senses, the recordings were flipped back on and you continued on with the video. “Okay…one last comment and let’s switch over to my turn, sounds good?”
Yukong nodded in agreement.
“Okay, here’s another comment for you, Yukong.”
“@/the-voxington-tavern said: I want Yukong to breed me. I want her to be feral and just break me. I want her to just rut her strap into me. I want her to be feral.”
Now this…this comment was one that Yukong fully understood. Her cheeks going hot at the way this commenter was so straightforward, and unable to speak for the first few moments. “Ah…my younger fans surely are enthusiastic…” Yukong chuckles, fanning her pink cheeks with her hand. “And very…descriptive with the way they describe their wants.”
You could tell Yukong was struggling to keep her composure, yet you were in the same boat as you couldn’t help but feel jealous that someone wanted your Yukong as desperately as you did. You knew Yukong was yours and yours alone, but you couldn’t stop yourself as you leaned in closer to whisper something into Yukong’s ear that had her perking up with delight.
“Yeah, but I’m the only one you rut your strap into every night, right?” you murmur quietly, a smile curling up on your lips. 
The older woman shivers at your words and you see a glint of ferocity appear in her eyes. Though you were just trying to tease her, it appears the teasing worked a bit too well, as your girlfriend was beginning to grow excited the more the video went on. She couldn’t wait for the filming to be over, and it was evident in the way she stared at you hungrily, waiting for you to finish your round of thirst comments so she could devour you when the cameras were cut. 
Perhaps after reading your round of thirst comments, her feelings would escalate. After all, not only was she impatient, but maybe she’d even grow a bit jealous…?
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TOPAZ
“@/servalisms said: when I die, bury me in Topaz’s thighs.”
Topaz smirked at this and stood up from her seat, lifting her leg onto the table and giving it a confident smack. “I got your coffin right here, baby.”
Everyone on set, including you burst out into laughter, causing Topaz to chuckle before sitting back down. “I’m glad we can appreciate my thighs, though. I’ve been going to the gym to workout on my legs ever since I got that role for Triassic Park (Parody of Jurassic Park)”
“Mm, yeah. That movie was a pain to film,” you sighed, leaning your head on Topaz’s shoulder as she wrapped an arm around you to pull you closer. “Fun fact about the production of the film: Topaz was not expecting to do so many athletic stunts, so she had to work extra hard on an athletic build while filming on set. The first time we met, she was doing squats next to a raptor costume.”
“Heyyyy, at least it all paid off in the end. Now look, everyone is admiring my beautiful physique.” Topaz hums, giving you an arrogant smile. “Look, there’s even more comments about my thighs…”
“Anonymous said: Is it too hard to understand that I just want my head crushed between her thighs? 😔”
Topaz just smirks smugly at this and gives the camera a naughty look like she expected this to happen. “Oh? My fans want me to crush them between my thighs? Won’t that hurt?”
“If it hurts, it would be a good kind of hurt.” You say with a smile. “I’m sure everyone’s preferred death would be getting suffocated by you, Topaz.”
“Oh, everyone is just a masochist nowadays aren’t they?” She chuckles, “If that’s the case, I’d gladly crush any fan’s head. So long as they pay a proper price…”
There’s a mischievous glint in Topaz’s eyes that tells you she’s not even joking. The determination in her eyes making it obvious that she’d do anything for an extra income of cash. 
“Hm, so you’d make me pay if I wanted to get my head crushed by you?” You ask in a joking tone, gauging her reaction from your words.
“Pfft. Of course not.” Topaz smirks, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You’re the only one who gets my services free, babe.”
The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife, Topaz chuckling at the way you tensed up at her words and flush at the way she started squeezing your hand. “Anywhoooo I believe we should move on to the next comment, hm?” She grins before scrolling up to the next comment. 
“Anonymous said: TOPAZ 😩 I WANT TO BE HER CHAIR!” 
“Woahhh there.” Topaz chuckles, ears going a bit pink due to embarrassment. “Is that an offer for me to sit on your face…?” She grins at the camera, pulling you a bit tighter against her figure. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but unless you’re paying me some good money, there’s only one chair I’m sitting on tonight.”
She ruffles your hair at the implications and laughs at the way the producers all flush with embarrassment. Topaz surely was one of the bolder celebrities out there, and she didn’t hesitate to break the filters if she wanted to even if it might cause public outrage. 
“Topaz…” you mumble under your breath, getting a little nervous with how blunt Topaz was being.
“What, it’s true.” She chuckles. “But, it’s interesting to know I have so many people willing to become my chair. Perhaps I should ask if any of our other co-stars are interested in it too.” 
“I know I am.” You mumble under your breath, Topaz catching the words before smiling a little at the thought. “Oh, I know…”
She lets out a small, amused laugh before opening up the last comment to read. “@/qqinggue said: TOPAZ BE MY SUGAR MOMMY????”
“Hey that’s my sugar mom— MMPF!” Topaz quickly covered your mouth and began laughing at the comment, trying to keep your relationship a secret despite how bold you two could get on camera. “Ahhh, a Qingque fan, eh?” Topaz chuckles, still keeping your mouth muffled as she threw a sleazy grin at the cameras. “You sure you don’t want Qingque to be your sugar mommy instead?” 
Topaz continues laughing to cover up your muffled talking before moving in to whisper in your ear. “Don’t throw a fuss. You know damn well we have to keep that part of our relationship a secret.” She chuckles, rubbing a comforting finger across your temple before turning back to the camera.
“Well, that’s all the thirst comments for me! We should move on to (Reader) now, hm?” She smirks and side glances at you like nothing was wrong. “Be a good girl now. Hurry up and finish filming so we can go home.”
Your eyes widened before nodding enthusiastically, eager to comply with Topaz’s requests to begin your round of thirst comments. 
Who knows, maybe Topaz will get a little jealous her sugar baby is receiving all this attention…?
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2K notes · View notes
itsswritten · 6 days
Text
teeny tiny
Pairing: Fairy reader x Azriel
Word Count: 2.6K
Summary: Azriel practices dwindling with you. (Just some fluff, mutual pining, pre bond snapping)
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Wings Universe - read more from this couple here.
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Azriel was watching you intently, a soft smile spread on his lips as his gaze danced across your expression. You were so passionate when you spoke about your work– your duty as a fairy. 
A stark difference to how he felt about being an Illyrian.
But knowing you now for only a year, you had softened that perspective he had for his own heritage. Purely by how dedicated you were to yours, and how you lit up whenever you got to speak about it. Naturally, when getting to know the IC you had wanted to learn everything about the Illyrians, everything about the sisters, about Amren. Every finer detail.
That warm nature of yours, got even the most reserved opening themselves up to you. You were always genuinely interested too, mesmerised in the differences and similarities you found among your new friends. You would never scrimp on compliments either, lovely words rolling off your tongue in awe when Cassian had explained some Illyrian lore. You even went as far to admit that you’d always thought the dark winged fae looked very cool and fierce. 
Azriel could vividly remember the heat filling your cheeks one evening at Rita’s when you’d admitted that, the faerie wine offering you some liquid courage. The comment had gone straight to Cassian’s head, prancing round Rita’s flexing in front of Nesta with a stealthy look, posing for her. “Look how fierce I look, Nes,” Nesta only rolled her eyes.
Azriel, though, had kept that comment. Tucked it away in the corner of his mind that he saved purely for you. A space filled with compliments from you, mentions of the things you loved, or observations of when he thought you looked especially beautiful– which truly was everyday. That corner of his mind was slowly growing by the day, bit by bit consuming him more and more. But he didn’t mind. For every new area you occupied in his consciousness, it replaced something dark instead. Those nightmares became few and far between after you entered his life, and he felt lighter, brighter. 
A mark that could only be left by a radiant individual– you.
Ever since he’d met you, he was absolutely smitten. There was a magnetic charge between you both, that just couldn’t keep him away. He was like a moth to a light, fluttering so dangerously close that if he wasn’t careful he might just burn. 
But he couldn’t stop. Despite the risk of it all, the risk of you burning his desires down. The obvious rejection you would undoubtedly give him if his feelings ever became known. So he settled for friendship, in fact savoured in it. He welcomed the friendly banter and familiar touches you so kindly offered him, but sometimes he dared to imagine…selfishly letting himself wonder, if he was to confess, would it really all go up in flames?…or would a warm glow await him instead.
Azriel began to look for the good parts of his own culture, an excuse to be able to share something with you. Little anecdotes of younger years with his brothers, the plants that grew in the harsh terrain of Ramiel, and what creatures may lurk in those mountains. Something Azriel noticed had piqued your interest. 
He found you numerous times after that in the library with Nesta and Gwyn, looking through bestiaries and field journals. Your commitment to the land and its creatures never wavering. You had found old scriptures, thousands of years old, of rare creatures that roamed the Illyrian land. Feline-like beasts that apparently once lived among Illyrians as their companions, a familiar of sorts. You had practically barged into Azriel’s room one evening when you had unearthed this new information, kneeled on his bed sharing this new discovery word for word as you read the translated version Gwyn had given you. 
“We’ll have to go look for them Az,” You had beamed, “It’ll be like an adventure, and well I could write it off as work too seeing as technically this falls under my jurisdiction.” 
Azriel had never cared much for his own culture and myths, actually, had rather hated every aspect of it. But somehow, watching you find the beauty between the cracks changed something in him. Over time the dismal opinion he had of Illyrians and that part of himself, paired with the progression in the camps had made a slight difference.
Today though, today, you were sharing even more of your world.
“So I thought, you know with you already being able to winnow you would grasp this the easiest” you smiled at Az.
You had brought him to the edge of one of the night court meadows you usually worked at. Elain had asked to join you on a day's work for the spring season, once confessing she wished the cauldron had turned her into a fairy just like you. You had told her she was perfect the way she was, exactly who she was supposed to be, and promised her anyone of any kind was welcome in the meadows. 
What was supposed to be a fun girls day with Elain had quickly snowballed into a field trip, the rest of the inner circle adamant they had to come too. But if your friends couldn’t master the art of dwindling then they would not be permitted in the meadows. Rhys and Feyre were fine, that unlimited pot of power they both possessed actually meant you’d caught them several months ago, rolling around in a flower enjoying some quality time together. You’re not sure who was more embarrassed, yourself or Feyre when Rhys clumsily fell out of a flower bell stark naked covered in pollen.
Before the others would be allowed to cross the threshold of the meadows you would need to teach them first.
“Dwindling is a lot like winnowing, how you move yourself to a different space. Or even how your shadows move you through space. It’s essentially the same, but it’s the space within you that’s moving…well smaller.” 
Your hands had been spread wide in your explanation, bringing them closer together as if your movement were perfectly representing how it worked. Your brows furrowed though, as Azriel looked at you with a soft dazed expression. Almost glassy eyed with a dumb smile on his mouth.
“Are you even listening to me Az?” Your tone felt stern leaving your lips. A little huff following after, that got his shadows moving in a giddy manner. It wasn’t just Azriel that found you utterly adorable, but his shadows too had a hard time hiding how your expressions caused a stir in them.
How they basked in your laughter, grew agitated in your discomfort or selfishly, liked to relish in your charming pouts.
Azriel quickly shook his head, as if shaking himself from the daze you so often ensnared him in, “I’m always listening,” he promised.
You rolled your bottom lip through your teeth gently, pausing for a moment to take in his words. How it had struck a ripple through your body, that often created butterflies in your stomach. Glancing up through your lashes you took your friend in, his large strong frame towering over you, never in an intimidating way. No, his presence, however daunting to others, always filled you with safety and comfort you hadn’t felt around many. And there were those beautiful hazel eyes that often reminded you of the sunrise after you’d worked the night shift. Golden rays breaking through the midnight blanket, spilling hazel threads into petals of blue.
Maybe one day you would tell him how when the sky filled with ribbons of gold and sapphire, that you only thought of him.
Quickly you stopped yourself from falling into your own daze, remembering his passing words. 
I’m always listening. 
That he was. So attentive, so kind, you’re not sure what you did to deserve the friendship of the Shadowsinger. You continued on, brushing over how genuine his words sounded. Rummaging around in your bag you pulled out a pouch of fairy dust.
“This amplifies your power, makes it easier to shrink. Should also help with the nausea,” you muttered, now choosing to ignore the way his eyes seemed to drink you up.
It was getting increasingly hard to disregard the effect the Shadowsinger had on you. He was so beautiful, so pretty– in that rugged Illyrian way. And he was very thoughtful too, and there was the way he said things to you sometimes that made it hard not to assume it meant more. Every word felt like a whispered kiss or unspoken promise, that you found yourself at times hoping, and daydreaming that perhaps it did mean something deeper.
Sprinkling the dust over Azriel, his nose scrunched a little at the scent. So familiar, he realised it reminded him of you. That lingering scent of fairy dust was always on you, mixed with vanilla and hints of honey, an underlying breeze of peonies. Your scent alone was enough to enchant him, enough to know he would be dreaming of you again tonight. His consciousness would slip him into a blissful haze of what it would be like to envelope himself in the crook of your neck and laze in your aroma.
Gently you took his hands into yours, his ragged hands engulfing your own. 
Azriel couldn’t help notice the stark contrast. How perfect and soft you were, delicate and light. He was rough and weathered around the edges, hardened by war and conflict. A gentle squeeze from you pulled him from his thoughts, realising how close you were now, he would only have to lean down slightly to bridge the gap between you. So close he could press his lips to top of your head and–
As if brushing that thought from his mind, his shadows moved towards you. Brushing a strand of hair from your face, while the other tendrils wove through the air in between you both like a dance.
“Are you ready Az? Remember everything I taught you?”
He nodded. 
Channelling his power in the technique you had shown him, his eyes fluttered shut. Honing in on the warmth of your hands and the faint sound of the breeze. His siphons simmered a glow as vibrations of power and space moved over the sharp lines and angles of his body, retracting and restricting the space within.
The air sounded different all of a sudden.
Vibrations growing louder, rustles becoming more powerful. Slowly Azriel opened his eyes, looking down at you, standing as you were before. He questioned if he’d even managed to do it, but as he glanced up he saw the tall green vertebrae of the grass tower above. The strands gently swaying in the wind, allowing the morning sun to filter through and cast viridescent shadows across the earth.
He had done it. He had dwindled.
The air was filled with a symphony of sounds, the song of crickets and the gentle rustling of the grass in the wind. Butterflies flitted by, leaving a gentle gust of wind in their wake. They were larger than him now, and he could vividly see the intricate designs and colours that lay on their wings.
“Az? Azriel are you okay? How do you feel?”
He hadn’t even realised you were talking, not until your hand gently pressed against the side of his face. Your thumb tracing the line of his jaw, as you looked up to him in concern.
“I feel fine,” he replied, finally remembering to take a breath as your touch left him.
“No nausea? You looked a little peaky for a moment, I was worried,”
Your remaining hand had slipped from his gentle grip, a simmer in his chest wishing it would remain. But Azriel unfurled his wings, stretching the dark membranes out, distributing his weight onto either feet to check his balance. 
“Okay…” You smiled then, “This went better than I thought, you know it’s Cassian I’m most worried about. I just have a feeling he’ll sneeze himself into a giant or something,”
“Wait, is that possible?”
“No, or at least I don’t think so. But somehow I could see it happening with Cass,” You laughed. The angelic waves of your laughter pulled up the corners of his lips as he let out a chuckle.
Oh Azriel could stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you, no one else in sight for miles.The sun basking it’s glow upon you both. Your laughter faded into a comfortable silence before you closed your eyes, head tilting up towards the sun as the rays washed over your face. 
Azriel thanked the Mother again for the blessings he had received since knowing you, because this moment right here– to be with you was surely one.
“Y/n…” Azriel couldn’t help breathe your name out, it barely a whisper as words he kept tucked in that corner of his mind seemed to pile into his mouth.
Gently your eyes fluttered open, your expression turning to him with a light hum in question. But before he could even untangle the mess of confessions on his tongue, a shadow loomed above.
With a slight jump, you hastily stepped back, colliding into the tough warm frame of the Shadowsinger, craning your neck up to see what had cast such a darkness.
A shadow– Azriel’s shadow.
The smokey tendril seemed to loom over you both inquisitively. It’s movements speaking of a curiosity to how its master was now so tiny.
“There’s always one,” Azriel grumbled, his hand tenderly moving to the small of your back for a moment as he stepped to your side.
Azriel crossed his arms across his chest, his expression boring on unimpressed as he glanced up at the disobedient wisp.
“You’ve got no excuse,” Azriel chastised, referring to the other shadows that had obediently followed an appropriate size to him after dwindling. 
The shadow slumped a little in response, eliciting a small gasp from you at how utterly adorable you found it. As if remembering you were there the shadow turned it’s attention. Azriel’s earlier command to resize itself held no authority but it quickly slinked itself slightly smaller for you. It’s size resembled something of Azriel’s shape as it twirled around you making the layers of your dress flutter up in the wind.
“Oh my…” Your cheeks heated a rosy hue as you attempted to hold your dress down in the gust of air.
“Sorry about that,” Azriel heaved, his patience growing thin as he tried to hide his slight embarrassment at his unruly shadow.
“It’s quite alright Azriel,” you reassured him with a light chuckle, the smile on your lips easing him. The use of his full name, raising goosebumps on his skin.
It wasn’t the only thing your smile eased, the shadow, as if melting under you, softened like honey. Oozing back behind Azriel’s wings in a dazed infatuation.
“Come,” you took Azriel’s hand in yours. Pulling him gently through the blades of green. “You should settle in this size for a while, make sure everything feels okay before we return,”
Azriel watched your fingers interlock with his, the smaller wisps of his shadows winding around your joined hands. Whispering words to one another that he couldn’t hear. 
He swallowed hard, once, twice taking in the view before him. Your usual pink dress dipping to the small of your back, taut flawless skin kissed under the sun as you pulled him through the green. No wings on show, though.
He wondered when you would share that part of you…if ever. 
Azriel would never ask, but he hoped one day you trusted him enough.
That he would be so lucky. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, sending him a soft smile that seemed to bury itself deep into his chest. He pondered, if for only a moment, that perhaps he was lucky.
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a/n: just a little instalment from your favourite couple! <3 What else do you want to see from them?? (Other than flower sex , I promise this is coming👀)
forever tags: @lilah-asteria @illyrianbitch @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @marscardigan
Wings tags: @minaethrym
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