#Effortles

[kimwexlers-brownhair]

My soprano OC is cooler than yours. Her voice sounds like Rosa Ponselle, Luisa Tetrazzini, Virginia Zeani, and Eileen Farrell all put in a blender. She looks like model Tara Lynn. She has a developed chest voice, unlike your constricted soprano. She doesn't neglect her head voice, either.

She's a bisexual fencer. Her name is Julie D'Aubigny Dulie J'Aubigny.

[trendscribe]

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[colourstreakgryffin]

Big bad Overlord Husk does things to me... Can you please do something for him with a reader who combs his hair and makes sure he is presentable by doing things like adjusting his bowtie? (Romantic, please!) Thanks!

Hehe~! Oooh~! I like this idea a lot and it kinda reminds me of that Overlord Husk + Casino-Bae Angel Dust AU thingie! Why not make us the Casino Bae or I’m gonna call the ‘Casinofly’? I also need to start asking for gender, because I always default to female for most of the guys *sigh*

Overlord! Husker- Dolling Up

How did you manage to land being able to spend so much time with the Gambling Overlord? Not even you know, you’ve just become his personal little casinofly. The pretty face that gets to pamper and doll him up every single day, who may or may not be his current girlfriend

Husk enjoys the feeling of your cute little hands running over his blackish-gray feathery hair, gently combing the smooth semi-hard bristles of a brush over his head. The attention you put into grooming him

Husk knows this routine instinctively. He’ll sit down on his bed and order you to enter his room, waiting for you to brush his hair, style him up, spray him with some cologne, clean him to utter perfection so he’ll glow for his casino. You’re the only one he wants to be his pamperer

Husk can’t help but purr and purr loudly with every kiss and brush you give him. Kissing his ear tips or kissing the smoothly brushed back of his hair. He loves it and he couldn’t imagine anybody else doing this for him. He ends up walking out of the room with you on his arm whilst purring under his breath

“So… is today a Overlord meeting, hey?” You ask smoothly and elegantly in a soft-tone, lips perking out slightly with the nice black lipstick that your not-so-secret boyfriend, Husk, the gambling Overlord of the Pride Ring put on for you. A powerful, influential figure amongst this huge city so you’re pretty surprised he would spare you time and especially allow you to be his little pamperer. The lady that gets to dress him up and make him look presentable for the day

Husk nods slowly and carefully as you brush and style back his hair with a precise scoopful of gentle slick rather expensive hairgel, making sure it stays still, attractive and appealing. Making his quite tall tuft-tipped ears pop out a bit more as you clean off your fresh hair briefly with the nearby makeup wipes laid on the bed besides your makeup bag, before beginning to tie up his business meeting bowtie. It’s a different one than the usual bowtie

“Well yes, love. It’ll be for a hour or two. Now, may I ask you something?” Husk purrs out in his strong, deep and almost hypnotic voice, his hands laid in his lap as his high collared shirt snuggles his hips and his arms well, big feathery red and detailed wings drooped over on the bed comfortably

Sat down on his own grand silky bed in his mighty suite, fitting his appeal and his style very well. You’re the only one allowed into his room, just the pretty casinofly he has his eyes on

“Yes, Sir?” You ask warmly and almost delicately responding to your own boss, the Overlord that has both your soul and your heart in his grasp effortlessly, as your own gentle sparkly eyes focus on readjusting the bowtie around his neck slightly to make sure it’s neat and presentable for this important event

You want Husk to shine out the rest of his fellow Overlords, which is why you’re being precise but you’re always so precise, you always want him to look incredible

Fixing up the collar cuffs of the white dresshirt, you make sure his hands are free and smooth, the fur brushed and clean. All of his fur is brushed and clean, just as you desire. As soon as you’re done, waiting for Husk to speak once again after the few seconds of silence that radiates throughout the magnificent fancy room, the Gambling Overlord finally speaks again. His voice has that certain charm that can always put you in a trance

So effortlessly, you cannot believe just how effortless and impressive this demon is

“I wish for you to accompany me to this meeting. Do not worry about being unable to enter with me, I’ll let you in” Husk saying this so confidently and fearless, he is very certain about what he wants and he doesn’t suspect that you will not say no, but, he is surprised by the way you respond; widened glowing eyes, hands halting at putting on his suit jacket over his shoulders, your lips parting

You look so damn kissable and he can’t wait to kiss your pretty little face as soon as he can. For now, he’ll stay put and listen out for your own response as well as behave for your sake

Controlling your nerves and your beating heart. The idea of being around so many powerful sinners is intimidating and the idea of Husk wanting to bring you up to the Overlord meeting. It makes your cheeks burn up, you never thought he’d ever want to show people that he’s dating you, outside of the casino and outside of his domain. He must really like you! It almost feels unbelievable…

You quickly shake your head and begin to continue putting on his suit jacket, his three-piece suit for the business. Almost completely ready, Husk is waiting patiently and sitting silent like a curiously watching cat. As soon as your done, attaching a golden suit tassel chain

The Overlord towers over you as you step back and he smoothly picks up your hands, beginning to slide your bicep-length silky sparkly gloves. Finishing up the touches of that pretty classy yet semi-sexy ‘casino bae’-style of yours

Your eyes sparkled a bit more at Husk dressing you back, slowly and strongly turning you around. He offers his arm out and waits for your next action, sharp golden yellow eyes gleaming in your direction, almost sizing you up

He is waiting for you to accept his enticing welcoming invitation, he wants you to join him for this meeting and he’d be disappointed if you said no

Your heart dropped a bit at hearing the usual yet soothing vibration, humming through the air, of cat purring. Of Husk purring

“Shall we head out now, sweetheart?”

[heich0e]

the suna where he asks if you'd have a baby with him

ask game: a christmas drabble from an established AU AU: wouldn't it be nice?

you've never been particularly good at giving people presents.

not for lack of trying, or lack of care—you want to be good at gift giving, but somehow you've just never quite mastered the skill. you're too indecisive to pick just one thing, so you always end up with a strange mismatched array of little gifts when the time comes, none of which have any particular connection to the other.

and that's to say nothing of your absolutely horrendous gift wrapping abilities.

before you started dating rintarou, christmas was always a real point of stress in your life. from picking out the gift, to tracking the item down, to trying (and ultimately failing) to wrap it in a way that didn't give the impression that a child had done it one-handedly. the stress that built up around the holiday often overshadowed any of the actual enjoyment you were meant to derive from it. and though none of your exes had ever explicitly called you out on being a god-awful gift giver, you knew that it was true.

thankfully, in that way that only rintarou seems to be able to do, that problem just... disappeared when the two of you started dating.

maybe disappeared is the wrong word, but that anxiety that you always used to feel cresting as the holidays drew near just never seemed to swell to the same point of misery as it used to. you never felt the same pressure to pick the perfect thing. to wrap it beautifully. to get it right.

because rintarou has this way of... reassuring you. of sensing when you're struggling and making things... easier. all without ever having to ask.

"i'm not big on gifts," he'd said to you, a full three weeks before your first christmas together. "wanna just go somewhere for the holiday, instead of buying presents? i've got some time off and have been thinking about going to kyoto."

and that settled it.

each christmas since then has passed similarly. either rintarou makes a plan, or very explicitly tells you what he'd like to get as a gift, and when the time comes, any of that stress that used to build up around the day just never even has the chance to take root.

but this year, there's a different sort of nervousness you feel about the holiday.

"my mom sent us a card," rintarou says, coming around the corner of your living room with a little red envelope in his hands. "she invited us to visit for the new year, too."

you shift in your seat under the kotatsu, looking up as he stands over you. "do you want to go?"

he sighs, slumping down onto the sofa behind you. "not really."

"we don't have to, then, if you really don't want to," you assure him, leaning back against the sofa so you're a little nearer to him. he inches forward on the couch cushions to close the gap even further. "but it might be nice to see your family."

rintarou isn't particularly close to his parents, who divorced when he was young. of his family members, the nearest to him is his little sister—and their relationship had largely been built once they both reached adulthood.

"last time we went to see my family my grandma tried to take you to a shaman to get you pregnant," rintarou replies dryly. "you sure you wanna go through that again?"

"i don't think the shaman was the one who was supposed to knock me up," you point out, and rintarou huffs out a laugh. you turn away from him a little. rintarou's grandmother was tired of waiting for great grand children and had tried to use shamanism to speed the process along—it had ended in an argument over a family dinner. "you two really are related, huh?"

"what was that?"

you peek at him over your shoulder.

"i think we should go to see them."

rintarou's brow quirks slightly at your words, and you lean forward so your elbows are resting on the edge of the couch cushion.

his eyes are always so green when you're this close to him, lined with those dark wispy lashes. so pretty. delicate and effortless in a way that would upset you if he wasn't already yours.

"you really wanna go?" he asks you quietly, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips when he speaks. you nod a little, and your lips brush because of the proximity—not quite a kiss, but enough to make him lean forward in search of one.

you pull away before he gets what he's looking for.

"and you can tell grandma that we won't need the shaman this year."

because she's already gotten what she wanted.

he blinks at you, and then his eyes widen, and before you know it he's sitting bolt upright on the sofa with a look of utter disbelief on his pretty face.

just like always, rintarou made gift giving easy this year.

only this time, the present is something you'll both cherish equally, because it's something you've been wanting, too.

[cressidagrey]

The Witching Hour - Chapter 4 - Morrigan

Summary: 

5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Warnings: 

Seeing the future, Mor bashing, mention of rough but consensual sex

(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)

"You invited who to lunch?" Mor breathed. Feyre looked at her, a flicker of something in his expression. Concern, maybe?

"Cate agreed to join us," she said, his voice steady. "She might be our best chance of helping Elain."

Mor closed her eyes. "You invited Cate to lunch? Are you serious?" she hissed at Feyre. “Does Rhys know about this?" Mor demanded. Probably not, because she was quite sure that her cousin would have put a fucking stop to it. 

Feyre let out a deep breath. "No," she admitted. "I haven't told Rhys yet."

Mor's eyes widened. "You haven't told him? Are you out of your mind?" she demanded. Rhys was going to be utterly furious and Mor couldn’t even fault him for it. 

At Feyre's side, Nesta let out a snort, a small smirk on her lips.

Hecate was… morally questionable on a good day. 

She disappeared for decades and then showed up somewhere, wrecking havoc only to disappear again. Morrigan was quite sure that she had fingers in every bit of political unrest of the last thousand years in some way or another. That was literally what she was known for. 

Witches were a dying breed, rare and often assassinated for the power they possessed...but nobody had yet managed to killed Hecate The Undying. Which was too bad. 

Feyre's irritation flared at Mor's words, but she tried to keep her voice steady. "Look, I understand your reservations about Cate, but...she's willing to help us with Elain. That's what matters right now."

Mor's expression darkened even further. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, Feyre,” she implored her friend. “Cate is... dangerous.” That didn’t even begin to cover it. Dangerous was a fucking understatement. “You don't want her involved in this."

"So everybody keeps telling. But nobody says what exactly makes her oh so dangerous," Feyre said with a roll of her eyes. Mor considered throttling her High Lady. "Azriel gets along with her so she can't be that bad, right?" Feyre asked her. Mor clenched her jaw, frustration welling up within her.

Feyre was always so stubborn, so determined to see the best in everyone. It was endearing but also infuriating.

"You don't understand," she said through gritted teeth. "Cate may look harmless enough, but she's...unpredictable. Unhinged. She has a history of crossing lines, of violating boundaries, both physical and mental.And while Azriel gets along with her," Mor continued, her tone sharp. "That's not a good thing. Azriel and Cate have a...complicated history, to say the least. They've gotten far too close, in more ways than one."

Feyre rolled her eyes. "I'm sure they've spent some time... together."

Mor wanted to grab Feyre and shake her. "That's putting it lightly," she said, her voice strained. "They've done much more than just spend time together, and their...relationship has never been entirely...healthy."

Feyre's expression remained unchanged. "So what if they've slept together?" she said, her voice calm and level. "They're both consenting adults. I fail to see why it's such a big deal."

Mor felt her irritation flare, and she struggled to keep her voice even. "You don't understand," she repeated, her tone bordering desperation. "What they do…it's...it's not normal. Not healthy. It's a toxic..habit."

"I like how you are comparing me to a mirthroot addiction."

Morrigan growled, turning around. There she was. 

Mor's gaze hardened as Cate made her entrance, strolling in as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It infuriated her how cavalier the female could be, as if she didn't have a care in the world. 

Yet, despite herself, Mor found her eyes being drawn to the female, taking in her effortless beauty. Cate hadn't changed over the centuries. Still breathtakingly beautiful.Yes, Cate was undeniably attractive, but she was also dangerous. Lethal, even.

Mor blinked as she took in the dress she wore. For one moment she may have called it modest, with long sleeves and a floor-length skirt...and then she blinked and the off-the-shoulder neckline revealed bruises and bite marks that covered Cate’s neck and shoulder.

Mor felt her eyes widening at the sight of the marks marring Cate's skin. 

She knew the female was unrestrained, that she had no reservations about her body or her...encounters with Azriel, but seeing the evidence of her...dalliances on display was still jarring, to say the least. Mor's eyes darkened as she noticed Feyre's gaze flickering to the marks, a flicker of curiosity and...something else in her expression. Something that made Mor's blood boil.

This was not the time to let her mind wander to thoughts of Azriel and the things he had done with this female. She had to keep her focus, keep her mind on the task at hand.

But it was hard, when Cate was standing there, dressed to tantalize, with the physical reminders of her time with Azriel on full display. It was like a mockery, a taunt, a reminder of the closeness between them.

Mor clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking, her irritation growing with every passing moment. She had to focus, to keep herself composed, even as the sight of Cate's body, marked and dishevelled, sent a shameful thrill of something through her.

She could feel Feyre's gaze on her, watching her reaction to the female like a hawk. Mor forced her face to remain impassive, refusing to give anything away. She couldn't let herself be distracted by her own complicated feelings towards the female, or the things she knew - and didn't know - that Cate and Azriel had done together.

But it was hard, so damn hard, when Cate was standing right there. Mor could almost feel the heat radiating off her, as if the female was trying to taunt her, to push her buttons.

And it was working. Mor could feel her own blood heating, her body responding to the sight of the female against her will. It took all her willpower to maintain her composure and keep a neutral expression on her face.

As if sensing her struggle, Cate let out a soft laugh, a sly smile playing on her lips. "You look like you're about to explode, Mor. Something wrong?" she teased, her voice low and almost sensual.

Mor gritted her teeth, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists tighter. She knew Cate was enjoying this, enjoying the effect she was having on her. It was almost infuriating, the way she could get under her skin with such ease.

But Mor refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing her lose her composure. She forced herself to take a deep breath and look Cate straight in the eye. "I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth. "Just….fine."

Cate's smile widened, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, come on now, Mor. We both know that's not true." She took a slow, deliberate step towards her, closing the distance between them. "You're a terrible liar. Always have been."

Mor's heart thumped in her chest as Cate moved closer, her movements like a predator closing in on its prey. She could feel the heat radiating off the female's body, the scent of something rich and foreign filling her nostrils. 

"Why are you even here?" Mor snapped.

Cate's smile turned amused. "Oh, I'm here for lunch, of course. Didn't you get the invite?"

Mor's irritation flared even further. The female always had such a nonchalant attitude, never taking anything seriously. It was infuriating.

"Don't play coy with me," she snapped. "We both know why you're really here."

Cate let out a low laugh, her eyes glittering. "Oh, do we now? And why's that?" she asked, feigning innocence.

Mor's irritation boiled over, her voice rising. "Azriel. You're here for him, aren't you?"

Cate arched an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. She looked around, eyes clearly moving around the room, carefully turning around her own axis. "Azriel is nowhere to be seen," she said drily.

"You know what I mean," Mor retorted, her voice sharp. "You're always after him, always pestering him.”

Cate let out another soft laugh, her eyes glimmering with something dangerous. "Oh, Morrigan. Always so protective. And jealous."

Mor's lips curled at the word. "'I am not jealous," she bit out.

Cate stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"No? Then why do you look like you want to rip my throat out right now? Were it the bite marks that pushed you over the edge? You don't like the visible evidence that Azriel enjoys everything we do? If you wanted him for yourself, Morrigan, you could have," Cate said with a shrug. "He would have never refused you. By the cauldron, he spent centuries yearning for you, only for you to strangle him with his feelings at every opportunity."

Mor felt like she had just been punched in the gut. Cate's words cut right through her. Of course, she knew about Azriel's feelings for her, his unwavering devotion. And of course, she knew she had been nothing but a coward.

But hearing it thrown in her face like this, hearing Cate say it so nonchalantly, was like pouring salt on an open wound.

And the worst part was that Cate was right. Azriel had waited for her for centuries, only for her to push him away at every turn. Mor had known all this, had carried the weight of her cowardice for so long. And hearing Cate speak it out loud, in that nonchalant, almost taunting tone, made her feel like a fool.

But she refused to show weakness. Not in front of Cate.

She set her jaw, meeting Cate's gaze with a defiant glare.

"Don't pretend like you actually care about Azriel," she snapped. "You just use him. You use everyone."

"Oh that's rich, coming from you," Cate replied, her own expression hardening. "You've been using him for centuries, playing with his feelings like a cat toys with a mouse. Always just out of reach, just close enough to keep him coming back for more."

It was like a stinging slap. Mor felt the color drain from her face. Because Cate was right. She had been using Azriel for decades, using his feelings and devotion to keep him close, even though she knew she would never return those feelings.

Despite herself, her eyes stung with tears at the truth in the words. She had been lying to herself for so long, pretending to be the victim in all this. But Cate had laid out the reality, plain and simple, and Mor had never felt more exposed.

Mor tried to gather her wits, to come up with a snappy retort, but her mind was blank, her tongue thick and heavy in her mouth. For once in her life, she was at a loss for words

"For somebody that keeps insisting your power is truth, you can't seem to take it dished to you," Cate said darkly. "And for the record, I am only here because the High Lady thought that I may be able to help Elain. I'm a seer, just like her, remember?" she said, her voice sardonic. "And I might just have a bit more experience in dealing with my gift than Elain has. I have spent over a millennia in this world after all. It's possible I may be able to help her learn to control her power."

Despite herself, Mor's eyes widened slightly. It was a logical explanation, a valid reason for Cate's presence. But there was a part of her, a small, bitter part, that still couldn't accept it.

"And why would you help her?" she asked, her voice cold."What do you stand to gain from helping Elain?"

Cate's eyes gleamed with annoyance. "This may be hard to believe, but not everyone in the world is as self-absorbed as you," she taunted. "Maybe I'm just a nice person and I want to help another fellow Seer not drown in her visions and nightmares, hm? Did you ever consider that possibility?"

Mor gritted her teeth. She hated the way her heart lurched at Cate's biting words, the way they dug into her insecurities. "You don't exactly seem like the 'nice person' type," she shot back. "Forgive me for being suspicious."

"Your suspicions are noted, but you're wrong," Cate said with a shrug. "I don't do everything I do from some twisted motivation. I have feelings, you know. I'm not an emotionless monster."

Mor snorted, unable to hide her disbelief. "You could have fooled me," she said with a roll of her eyes.

Cate shot her a venomous glare. "You know, just because I'm not always wearing my heart on my sleeve doesn't mean I don't have feelings," she snapped. "Not everyone shows emotions in the same way you do, Morrigan."

Mor's stomach clenched as the words hit home. She knew that all too well. Just because she expressed her emotions outwardly, in words and actions, didn't mean everyone else did as well.

Still, she couldn't help but snark: "You don't show them at all most of the time."

"Maybe that's because I've learned to keep my feelings guarded, especially around people like you," Cate shot back, her voice sharp. "You have a habit of using people's emotions against them."

Mor's chest tightened. Cate was right again, and it stung. She had done it with Azriel time and time again, playing on his feelings for her, keeping him just close enough to keep him hoping for more. She hated herself for it, but she had done it anyway.

She couldn't stop the words from escaping her mouth. "And you don't?"

"Not like you," Cate retorted, her eyes narrowing. "| may flirt with everyone, but at least I'm upfront about it. I never promise more than I'm willing to give, and I don't play with people's hearts like you do."

"Can we go back to Elain now?" Nesta snapped.

Mor blinked, only just remembering that Nesta was in the room. She had been so focused on the back and forth with Cate that she had practically forgotten about the other females.

The sound of Nesta's voice snapped her out of her thoughts and back to reality. She looked over at the other female, who was looking less than amused.

"Gladly," Cate said with a roll of her eyes. "Where is she?"

"In the garden, I think," Mor said, her voice cracking slightly. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "She says the sunshine helps." 

Cate pushed off the wall, straightening her dress. "Well let's go, then," she said briskly. "The sooner we get to Elain, the sooner I can get out of here." 

Mor gritted her teeth, her irritation flaring. "What's wrong, not enjoying yourself?" she sniped back.

"Oh, I'm having a wonderful time," Cate said drily, giving Mor a mocking smile. "Your sparkling personality just makes it all worthwhile."

Feyre bit out a laugh at that. Mor glared at her. 

"The sunshine keeps the visions at bay," Feyre explained, growing serious as she led them down the garden path. "Is that…normal?"

Cate nodded. "Yes and no," she said, her attention focused on the path ahead. "It's normal for someone just coming into their power. The visions and images can be overwhelming, especially in a dark environment. But as a seer becomes more practised, they learn to control their power and it becomes less dependent on external factors like light or darkness."

"Elain?" Nesta called out to her sister, who was digging by the roses. Elain was lovely as always, a Sunhat on her head. "There is somebody we want you to meet."

Elain turned, her expression polite and open. She looked at the group of them, her gaze lingering on Cate.

Her gaze shuttered.

"Oh no," Feyre breathed.

Elain was having one of her visions.

The words spilt from Elain's lips, her voice low and strained, as though it took great effort to speak them.

"One who was Death must become Undying, for the thread of their souls are twined through the ages. They shall fight side by side in battle, their fates intermingled."

"Interesting," Cate murmured.

Mor felt her heart rate speed up at the words. Even without knowing their meaning, they sent a shiver down her spine. Death becomes Undying. It sounded...ominous.

But Cate seemed unaffected, casually intrigued.

"Is that always how they are?" Cate asked, as Elain's gaze cleared.

Feyre looked at her sister, concern written all over her face. Her voice was low as she said, "Yes. They're always like that. Vague and mysterious."

Elain blinked, her gaze slowly regaining focus. She seemed dazed, disoriented

"What did you see, Elain?" Feyre asked gently.

Elain shook her head as though trying to clear away the fog. "I don't...I'm not sure," she said weakly.

Cate took a step forward, her gaze sharp on Elain. "Can you tell me what you do remember?" she asked, her voice soft yet firm.

Elain frowned, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall.

"Not much," she admitted. "There were….shadows," she said slowly. "And a field of corpses."

Mor's heart dropped at the words. Shadows and corpses...it sounded like a battlefield.

Cate pulled out a crystal ball out of her pocket, not any bigger than a fist. Mor watched as Cate held the crystal ball up, the sunlight refracted off its surface and casting little rainbows over the ground.

"What are you doing?" Feyre asked, her voice wary.

"It's easier for a Seer if they have a...focus of sorts," Cate said simply, holding it out for Elain. Elain regarded the crystal ball with a mixture of caution and curiosity. She slowly reached out and took it.

Nothing happened.

"Just like I thought," Cate said drily. "You aren't a seer. You are an oracle."

"What's the difference?" Nesta asked, unable to keep the sharpness out of her voice.

"A seer has the ability to control their power to some degree," Cate explained, her gaze still fixed on Elain. "They are able to see into the future...and if you have a guide, a focus like a crystal ball, a seer can flip through all the different possibilities."

"An oracle, on the other hand..it's a power given by the mother herself. They see what the mother wills and when. They have no control what they see, no way of interpreting them. It just comes to them in flashes, with no context or explanation." 

Mor's eyes widened as she listened to Cate's words. An oracle? That didn't sound...good. 

Oracles, like Cate said, had no control over their powers. They never knew what they would see or when. It sounded like a living nightmare.

And poor Elain...she had no idea what had just been dropped on her lap.

The crystal ball exploded in Elain's hand.

It happened so fast, that Mor didn't even have a chance to react. One moment, Elain was holding the crystal ball, the next it shattered in an explosion of sparkling pieces.

Feyre squeaked, Mor froze..it was a wave of Cate's magic that enveloped Elain, that kept her safe as the crystal ball shattered in her hand. 

As the shards of the crystal ball rained down, Cate's magic enveloped Elain like a shimmering shield. The pieces bounced harmlessly against it, falling uselessly to the ground.

There was a breathless moment of silence, as everyone stood frozen, processing what had just happened

Mor knew that this was just a small taste of Cate's vast magical reservoir...a small stream coming from an ocean.

Mor watched as the magic around Elain slowly faded, disappearing like steam on a window.

Cate's expression was unbothered, her voice steady as she said, "As I said. An oracle."

"So I have no control?" Elain asked, her voice small. "'Il always be at the mercy of these...these visions?"

Cate's expression softened, her voice gentle as she replied. "In a way, yes. The visions will come to you, whether you want them to or not. But with proper guidance...it doesn't have to be overwhelming. I can teach you how to deal with the power, to not let it consume you."

Elain looked at Cate, a spark of hope in her eyes. "You can?" she asked, her voice tremulous.

Cate gave a small nod. "Yes," she said. "It won't be easy, and it will take time and practice. But I can help you learn to control the power, rather than letting the power control you."

Mor watched the exchange, her heart thudding in her chest. Cate's words sparked a flicker of hope within her, a hope that perhaps Elain might not be cursed to live a life of constant visions.

But at the same time, she couldn't shake the feeling that having Cate around for extended periods of time would be... troublesome, to put it mildly.

Cate's presence in Velaris would undoubtedly stir up many emotions, especially among the Inner Circle members. And the thought of having to deal with her witty remarks and sarcastic comments on a daily basis was enough to make Mor's headache worsen.

"Out of pure interest, who told you she was a Seer?" Cate wondered

"Azriel did," Elain answered softly. "I thought I was going insane."

Cate's gaze sharpened, her lips curving into a small smirk. "Oh, Azriel did, huh? Seems like | will need to give Azriel a primer in magical abilities once more."

Mor's eyebrows rose at Cate's tone. It was almost….playful. And the thought of her playfully mocking Azriel, poking at the shadowsinger to rile him up was...

"You know him?" Elain wondered, her gaze suddenly starting to take in the bite marks all over her neck and shoulder. Mor watched her swallow as she took that in. 

Cate chuckled, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, very well," she said, her voice laced with mirth. "We've been...acquainted for quite some time now. I do understand how he came up with it, he has seen me have visions more than once. But he's never been good with understanding the nuances of power," Cate added, her voice dropping into a mocking octave as she imitated Azriel's deep voice. "Sees the shadows, misses everything else."

Mor found herself smirking, unable to help herself. The idea of Cate being able to get under Azriel's skin so effortlessly, to tease him so effortlessly...it was almost endearing, in a twisted way.

There was something about Cate, in that moment, that was so very...genuine. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, her lips curved up in a small smirk. She was utterly unguarded, with no hint of pretence or artifice in her

Mor cursed herself internally, annoyed at how quickly she had been distracted by the other female. She despised Cate, and yet...there was something about her presence, her behaviour, that was captivating.

Mor forced herself to focus, to steer her thoughts in a different direction. She couldn't afford to let herself be distracted by Cate's mercurial nature, not now. There were more important matters to attend to, like the fact that Elain was an oracle.

She looked over at Elain, who still looked worried and overwhelmed by the revelation. She felt a pang of sympathy for the young fae. To suddenly have this power thrust upon her, to be told that she would have no control over it...it had to be a terrifying prospect.

"You are in good hands now," Cate promised Elain easily. "We'll get a handle on it...'ll find you some books to read."

There was a hint of softness in her tone, a flicker of concern in her gaze. It was a side of Cate that Mor hadn't seen before, one that contrasted sharply with her usual sarcastic and standoffish nature.

Elain smiled weakly, her shoulders slumping in relief.

“Thank you," she said softly.

Cate gave a small nod, her expression gentling. "Of course," she said, her voice gruff yet sincere.

Mor felt a pang of irritation as Cate's gaze landed on her, her expression shuttering back into its usual cold mask.

She swallowed back a biting response, not in the mood to start another argument.

But even as she forced herself to remain quiet, Mor couldn't help but feel a spark of defiance. She would not let Cate get the better of her.

Cate's gaze bore into hers, a silent challenge passing between them. Mor met it head-on, refusing to look away. Neither of them spoke, the air around them thick with tension and suppressed energy.

Finally, Cate's lips quirked up in a small smirk, as though amused by the tension she had caused. “You know,” she drawled. “If you keep staring at me, Morrigan, people might think you like me.”

Mor’s eyes narrowed, her irritation flaring. “And if you keep opening your mouth, people might think you’re intelligent,” she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.”

Cate's smirk grew, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, come on. Don't pretend you don't enjoy our little verbal spars. It's the highlight of your day, I'm sure."

"The highlight of my day is when you're not in my presence," Mor snapped, her temper fraying. "Believe me, I could go without seeing your face...or the evidence of your animalistic couplings." 

"Ouch," Cate said, feigning a wince. "That one stung. I didn't realise you were so jealous of my...activities. By the way, mostly it's Azriel telling me how perfect I am," Cate shot back easily. Elain looked like she would rather be anywhere else, while Nesta bit back a laugh. 

Mor's jaw dropped, her mind struggling to process what she'd just heard. Cate, with the arrogance and audacity to claim that people... that Azriel found her 'perfect'. It was utterly ridiculous.

But as she stared at Cate, seeing the cool, almost amused expression on the other woman's face...she couldn't help but wonder if it was true.

"If you hurt him..." she whispered, threatening...for one moment Cate's aura blew wide open. Green magic sparked at the very tips of her fingers.

Mor's heart seized in her chest, her breath catching in her throat as Cate's magic burst free. It crackled in the air, a low hum that sent a shiver down her spine.

For a moment, Cate's expression dropped completely, replaced by something dark and dangerous. Her eyes glowed almost unnaturally, and her magic swirled around her like a living thing.

But then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Cate's expression smoothed back into its usual cool indifference, and her magic retracted back into her skin.

"Don't forget who spent 500 years hurting him," Cate said quietly. "It wasn't me, Morrigan."

Mor's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted to snap back, to deny Cate's words, out she knew there was no point.

Cate was right. Mor had hurt Azriel. Deeply, irreparably.

And there was no way she could deny it.

"Do not threaten me for something you have done," Cate said quietly. "I have never laid a hand on Azriel in any way that he didn't want me to."

Mor swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest.

Cate's words struck her to her very core.

She knew it was true. Cate had shown Azriel more kindness, more compassion than she had in centuries.

And yet, a part of her couldn't help but feel resentful.

Resentful at the way Cate had so easily inserted herself into Azriel's life, replacing Mor in a way she hadn't been able to.

"I'll send you that book list," Cate said calmly.

Mor nodded stiffly, not trusting herself to speak. Her throat felt tight, her body tense from the onslaught of emotions she had experienced in the last few minutes.

She watched as Cate gave Elain a reassuring pat on the arm, her gaze flicking briefly to Mor before she turned to leave.

And in that moment, as Cate walked away, Mor was struck by a sudden wave of realisation. Cate was not simply a friend, or a sexual partner, or a convenient outlet for Azriel's anger and tension.

No...there was something more between them. Something that Mor had failed to see in all her years of knowing Azriel. Something that was now glaringly obvious in the other woman's presence.

And it scared her. It scared Mor more than any battle, any enemy, ever had.

[aventurineswife]

Omg so I have been SCOURING the entire internet for a fic where Aventurine and reader are dancing together (with Aven leading the dance) at a fancy event (a bit like black swan and acheron in the one animated short) and I have not found a single one 😔 It’s just been on my mind so much recently and I’d love to see it written out. Bonus points if he’s wearing the suit from the Final Victor light cone.

You’re an amazing writer and patience breeds success so please take your time and make sure to stay hydrated!

A Dance With The Devil

Summary: At an opulent event, the air is thick with intrigue, and the spotlight falls on you and Aventurine. As the music begins, he takes the lead in an intimate dance, his presence overwhelming yet captivating. The atmosphere is charged with unspoken tension as you’re drawn into his world of elegance, calculated moves, and dangerous charm. In a moment of sensual elegance, your every move is mirrored by him, and the dance becomes a game of its own—a game that may leave you questioning who is really in control.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sensual Dance, Romance, Ship Tease, Power Dynamics, Slow Burn.

Warnings: Sensual themes, Flirtation, Light teasing, Possible manipulation hints.

A/N: 🧍‍♀️I'm not good at describing dances and uh outfits most of the time but I tried my best describing the Final Victor outfit even tho I can't tell the colours properly 💀 also thank you for your kind words, I hope you enjoy this!! 🤧💖🫶

The grand hall was alive with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses, yet all eyes seemed to be drawn to the centerpiece of the evening: a lavish ballroom where the finest of the elite gathered in their best attire. The chandeliers above flickered with an ethereal glow, casting soft shadows over the polished floor. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and expensive cologne, and the atmosphere teemed with an unspoken tension—one that was both thrilling and dangerous.

Aventurine stood in the corner, his presence enough to command attention. His attire tonight was nothing short of breathtaking—his teal-colored dress shirt was immaculate, paired with a diagonal striped black-and-white/gray tie that accented the sharp lines of his suit jacket. Gold accents glittered in the dim light, tracing the edges of his jacket’s lapels and outlining intricate patterns that added an air of regality. Black gloves graced his hands, and his eyes—those unwavering eyes—roamed the room, scanning, assessing, always playing the game.

But it was you he saw.

You, standing by the edge of the crowd, nervously adjusting your attire. There was a certain pull to you, something that made his smile curve slightly—dangerously so—as he pushed himself off the wall and moved towards you, his footsteps steady and purposeful.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice smooth, almost a whisper, but commanding nonetheless.

You looked at him, surprised, then caught the glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. A gamble—he always liked to push boundaries. The gentle touch of his fingers against your arm as he guided you to the floor was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

He led you to the center, the spotlight now on both of you. His movements were effortless, calculated—he knew the steps without having to think about them. His hand was warm, encircling your waist with a precision that spoke of experience, while his other hand gently grasped your own, guiding it to his shoulder.

Aventurine’s eyes locked onto yours, his lips curving in a slight smile. "You seem out of place here," he mused, his voice a velvet thread in the tense silence of the room. "This world of pretense, it’s not for everyone."

You hesitated, but his steady presence made you feel as though the weight of the world was momentarily lifted. "And what makes you so certain I don’t belong?"

"Because you’re not playing the game." He swirled you gracefully, his fingers brushing against the curve of your back. You followed his lead effortlessly, your steps in sync, though his hold on you was firm—intentional. Every move, every subtle adjustment he made in his grip, seemed deliberate. He wasn’t just leading the dance; he was guiding you through a maze of temptation.

The rhythm of the music was slow, sensual, every beat punctuated by the close proximity between you. His body was a constant presence, so near yet never too forward, his touch light but possessive. His chest brushed against yours as you turned, the heat from his body seeping into yours.

"You play by a different set of rules," Aventurine said softly, his lips mere inches from your ear. His breath was warm, teasing the sensitive skin there. His voice was low, almost inaudible over the music, but it sent a thrill down your spine.

Your gaze flickered to his hand at your waist, feeling the steady pressure of his touch, his thumb moving in soft circles over the fabric of your attire. His gloved hand, resting on your back, slid up, almost imperceptibly, as if claiming you. It wasn’t the kind of dance you expected, nor the kind of connection you’d imagined. There was an unspoken invitation in his movements, a pull that was irresistible, yet layered with danger.

You found yourself pressed closer to him as the dance continued, his body a constant heat against yours. The rhythm quickened, and so did the tension. His movements became even more intimate, calculated with a precision that left no room for escape. Your heart raced—part fear, part exhilaration—as his hand slid down to the small of your back, his fingers just grazing the edge of your spine.

Aventurine’s smirk widened, as if he knew exactly what effect he was having on you. His eyes never left your face. "You feel it too, don’t you? The game." He pulled you in closer, so close you could feel the steady beat of his heart against your own.

In that moment, everything was suspended. The world faded away, leaving only the two of you—entangled in a dance that was both a test and a temptation. Every step, every shift, was a challenge, a calculated move in a game you didn’t fully understand, but one you were now unwilling to escape.

"You could walk away," he murmured, his breath warm against your lips, "but where’s the fun in that?"

The music reached its crescendo, and for a brief moment, you were lost in the dance, caught in his orbit. The thrill of the gamble was intoxicating, and as you danced with Aventurine, you realized that you were no longer just a player in his game—you were part of it.

And neither of you were willing to lose.

[callmedaleelah]

— Pinnacle [ tsukishima kei university au series ]

— cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile : is it possible that he was starting to let you see his subtle moves?

author’s notes : no mention of (y/n), written in second person pov, semi alternative universe, timeskip!tsukishima, college life, not proofread, english is not my first language

[ masterlist ] | [ ask daleelah go to box box 🐭 ]

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, amber glow across the campus. You sat on the bench just outside the classroom, your body weighed down with exhaustion. The library books in your bag felt heavier than usual, as if mirroring the burden of your thoughts. You tried to clear your head, gazing up at the soft pinks and oranges of the sky. It felt like the world was slipping into something calm, but your mind was anything but.

The day had been long—too long. After receiving feedback on your lab report, you were grateful for the chance to correct it, though it was hard to shake off the gnawing feeling that it wasn’t entirely your victory. Your mom’s push to email your professor had gotten you that second chance, and while you appreciated it, you couldn’t help but feel like you hadn’t earned it.

You slumped down onto a nearby bench, the weight of your bag dragging your shoulders down. Inside were the thick, heavy books you’d borrowed from the library, your attempt to arm yourself for the next wave of study sessions. But your body was protesting, tired and aching from a long day. You let yourself gaze at the fading sky for a moment, trying to relax.

"Just finished your class?"

The sudden voice made you turn around, surprised. Standing a few feet away, Tsukishima regarded you with his usual cool expression, headphones hanging loosely around his neck, his volleyball jersey peeking out from his jacket.

You offered him a polite smile. “Yeah, just finished.”

He glanced at you, then toward a nearby food truck. “Let’s get a hot chocolate.”

Your eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. It wasn’t exactly what you’d expected him to suggest, especially since Tsukishima wasn’t the type to initiate casual outings. You hesitated. “You like hot chocolate?”

He gave a small shrug. “Not really.”

“Then why are you inviting me to get a hot chocolate?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Do you not like hot chocolate?” he countered with a quirk of his eyebrow. The way he threw the question back at you made you pause, lips parting slightly. Tsukishima always had a way of turning the conversation back toward you, in that sly, almost smug manner.

“No, I mean, I like it, but—”

“Then why don’t you want to get hot chocolate?” He shot the question back at you smoothly, his tone unreadable.

You blinked at his bluntness but couldn’t help a small chuckle escaped your lips, shaking your head at his roundabout responses. “Fine,” you relented. His invitation felt more like a command, but it was hard to refuse when he was being this unexpectedly considerate. Without another word, you stood up and followed him, your legs feeling a bit lighter as you walked side by side.

As you reached for your bag, Tsukishima, in one swift motion, grabbed it from the bench and slung it over his shoulder. You stared at him, wide-eyed. The gesture had been so sudden, so seamless, that it left you momentarily speechless.

“Hey, I can carry it myself!” you protested, trying to take it back.

He glanced at you, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “It’s heavy. Are you carrying textbooks or bricks in here?”

You giggled, the teasing in his tone light but enough to make your heart skip. “Exactly why you should put it down.”

Ignoring your protests, he began walking ahead, leaving you no choice but to follow. Your cheeks burning with a mix of frustration and amusement. Despite his teasing, there was a gentleness to his actions—one you weren’t used to seeing. It left you flustered, trying to reconcile this Tsukishima with the one who usually scolded you during labs. As you walked, you noticed how effortlessly he carried the weight, as if it were nothing.

The walk to the food truck was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You found yourself stealing glances at him every now and then, your mind wandering to thoughts you had tried to suppress. The warmth of his earlier gesture, his quiet care, and the unspoken moments you shared were starting to gnaw at you in a way you weren’t prepared for.

The food truck was parked near the park entrance, a cute little stand that served coffee, pastries, and their renowned hot chocolate. The warm smell of cocoa filled the air as you approached, and you found yourself smiling at the cozy atmosphere.

Tsukishima placed his order for a latte while you eagerly ordered the hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. “I thought you were getting hot chocolate?” you questioned, eyeing him with mock suspicion.

“I didn’t say I was ordering it,” he replied nonchalantly, leaving you to roll your eyes at his deadpan response.

“Here you go,” the vendor called, handing over your drinks.

You thanked them, taking your cup eagerly. The warmth seeped into your fingers, offering a comforting contrast to the cool evening air. You took a small sip, sighing contentedly as the sweet taste melted over your tongue. “This is so good,” you said, almost to yourself.

Tsukishima glanced at you, and before you realized what you were doing, you held the cup out toward him. “You should try it!”

You came to a stop, holding the cup toward Tsukishima, your excitement palpable. He halted beside you, his eyes flickering to your face for a brief moment, then to the cup. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers grazing yours as he took a sip from your cup in your hands. The casual touch sent an unexpected warmth rushing through you, and you froze and watched him closely as he brought the cup to his lips, his expression unreadable as he tasted the hot chocolate.

“Nah, too sweet for me,” he said simply, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes as he looked at you.

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly brought the cup back to your lips, trying to hide the way your pulse had quickened. How did he manage to make something so simple feel so charged? You couldn’t stop thinking about the way his fingers had brushed yours, or the way his gaze lingered just a bit too long.

“You look like you haven’t slept in days,” Tsukishima comments, his tone as casual as ever, though tinged with familiar sarcasm. His hands are buried deep in his jacket pockets, and his eyes flick toward you, briefly scrutinizing your reaction. It’s been a week since that night at the park, the one with the drunk guy near his apartment. Since then, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi have both been checking in on you, and you’ve brushed it off, claiming you’re just not sleeping well, nothing serious.

But his comment today hits differently.

You reflexively rub your eyes, suddenly conscious of the dark circles beneath them. Have they really gotten that bad?

“I’m fine,” you mutter, adjusting the scarf around your neck to hide the sudden flush on your cheeks. It was a weird habit of his lately—picking on you but in a way that didn’t feel as harsh as it used to. Or maybe… maybe you were just imagining it. “You really didn’t need to walk me back, you know. I can manage.”

He shrugs, eyes on the path ahead. “It’s on my way.”

Liar. His apartment wasn’t anywhere near your dorm. You knew that much. And you want to call him out for it, but something stops you. Instead, you chuckled softly, letting a small bubble of warmth rise in your chest. The quiet moments you spent with him like this had become something you looked forward to, even if he rarely showed much outward emotion.

The conversation lulled into silence again, the air between you both comfortable but filled with unspoken thoughts. The park was quiet now, the soft sound of leaves rustling underfoot as you both walked the narrow path.

After a while, you couldn’t help yourself. “Can I ask you something?”

He gave a small nod, sipping his latte silently.

“How was your test with Professor Isamu in Neuropsychology? People say he’s tough.”

Tsukishima seemed to ponder for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “It was fine. He doesn’t care much about textbook answers. His tests are more about applying critical thinking, like using case studies from his lectures. You’ve got to listen carefully to what he says. If you miss the nuance, you’ll miss the answer.”

The description made you frown slightly, feeling the nerves knotting in your stomach. “I’m kind of worried about his class. He said he won’t tolerate bad grades and might fail students if they score low.”

You felt Tsukishima’s gaze shift toward you, a hint of something flickering in his eyes. Then, unexpectedly, he said, “Show me your notes. I’ll help.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, staring up at him in disbelief. “Wait, you—seriously?”

“Before I change my mind,” he added, the barest smirk curling on his lips.

“Oh my god, thank you so much!” you exaggerated, pretending to bow dramatically. “I’ll be your humble servant, Tsukishima-senpai.”

He rolled his eyes at your theatrics, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips. “It’s ‘Your Majesty’ to you,” he teased, his voice laced with sarcasm.

You burst out laughing, your heart fluttering at how easily he slipped into humor, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

Back at your dorm, you nervously fumbled with your keys, unlocking the door. The moment it swung open, you froze, eyes wide at the mess sprawled across the middle of the room—your half-assembled IKEA bookshelf scattered with loose parts and a crumpled instruction manual. Quickly, you shut the door behind you, stepping back into the hallway, cheeks flushed.

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed, leaning slightly as if waiting for an explanation. “What?”

You chuckled nervously, glancing at him. “My room’s a bit of a disaster right now.”

“Uh-huh,” he responded dryly, clearly skeptical.

Swallowing your embarrassment, you opened the door again and stepped inside, forcing yourself to embrace the chaos. “I tried putting it together this morning… before classes,” you gestured at the scattered bookshelf parts, a tinge of frustration in your voice, “but I gave up. I mean, who even writes these manuals?”

Tsukishima’s eyes scanned the room, his gaze falling on the IKEA parts. He didn’t say anything, but the slight twitch of his lips made you certain he was holding back a smirk.

You hurriedly set your cup down in the kitchen area and crouched down, trying to sweep the mess aside. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it later—”

But before you could finish, Tsukishima had already stepped forward, eyeing the manual you’d abandoned. “I’ve got this in my apartment. It’s not that hard.”

“I really don’t—” you began to protest, but he was already picking up the pieces and fitting them together with an ease that made you feel more embarrassed.

You watched, dumbfounded, as he calmly sorted through the various parts, fitting them together as if it was second nature. It was ridiculous how effortlessly he was making it seem—especially after you had spent half the morning wrestling with just the frame. He didn’t say much, only occasionally glancing at the manual, his fingers deftly tightening screws and aligning panels.

As he worked, you tried to focus on cleaning up the area around him, but your eyes kept drifting back to him. There was something so different about seeing Tsukishima here, in your space, helping you with something as mundane as assembling a bookshelf. The ease with which he moved, the concentration in his expression—it was oddly... endearing.

After a short while, he stood up, brushing his hands off as he admired the now fully assembled bookshelf. It was perfectly straight and sturdy, standing proudly in the center of the room.

You gasped, genuinely impressed. “Wow, it looks... perfect. I—thank you.”

He shrugged, as if it was nothing, but there was a faint glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. “Where do you want it?”

“Over here, in the corner,” you pointed to the empty space near your desk. Without hesitation, he helped you lift it and position it in the corner.

When it was finally in place, you couldn’t help the rush of excitement that bubbled up inside you. Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed Tsukishima’s arm, clinging to him in a brief moment of joy. “Oh my god, it looks so good! Thank you for helping me out with this,” you gushed, your excitement bubbling over.

Tsukishima stiffened slightly at the unexpected contact, his eyes flicking down to where your hand gripped his arm. But instead of pulling away or making a snide comment, he simply smiled—an actual, genuine smile that softened his normally sharp features. He even chuckled lightly at your excitement.

You blinked up at him, realizing what you’d just done, and quickly released your grip, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Sorry, I just... I’m really happy with how it turned out.”

“No problem,” he said, his voice low and surprisingly warm.

You turned your attention back to the bookshelf, trying to cover up your flustered state. “I’m gonna put my books here. It’s going to look so good once it’s filled up!”

Tsukishima just watched you with that same soft smile, shaking his head slightly. “You’re easily pleased,” he murmured under his breath, but there was no bite to his words.

You glanced back at him, catching the slight amusement in his eyes. “Maybe. But I don’t think I could’ve done it without your help.”

He shrugged again, as if he wasn’t used to receiving praise, and you found yourself smiling at how modest he could be despite his usual aloof demeanor. There was something deeply comforting about having him here, quietly helping you with something so ordinary, yet making it feel significant.

As the two of you began tidying up the leftover parts and tools, the air between you felt different—warmer, more relaxed. With that task done, the real reason for his visit loomed—studying for the upcoming test. You both sat on the floor, textbooks open between you, and Tsukishima started walking you through the material.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, nervously tapping your pen against your notebook. Tsukishima skimmed through your biochemistry notes, eventually stopping at a page filled with complicated diagrams of neurotransmitters and receptors.

“Let’s start with the basics—neurotransmitters,” he said, pointing to the structure of acetylcholine. “You know what this does, right?”

You nodded. “It’s involved in muscle contraction and plays a role in memory and learning.”

“Right. Acetylcholine is released at neuromuscular junctions to initiate muscle contractions, but in the brain, it’s also crucial for cognitive functions, particularly learning. In your case, biochemistry exams,” he added with a hint of amusement.

You laughed nervously, feeling the weight of the upcoming test. “I get the basics, but the pathways and all the enzymes confuse me.”

“Fair enough,” Tsukishima replied. “Let’s break down how acetylcholine is synthesized.” He gestured toward the diagram. “It’s made from acetyl-CoA and choline, catalyzed by choline acetyltransferase. Simple enough?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly. “But what about degradation? I always mix that up.”

He adjusted his glasses and pointed at the next step in the pathway. “Acetylcholine is broken down by acetylcholinesterase into choline and acetate, which stops the signal. This is crucial because if acetylcholine wasn’t degraded, the neurons would keep firing, leading to constant muscle contraction or overstimulation in the brain.”

You sighed, scribbling down notes. “So... it’s like a feedback loop?”

“Exactly. Without proper regulation, neurotransmitters like acetylcholine can overwhelm the system, leading to conditions like myasthenia gravis—an autoimmune disorder that targets acetylcholine receptors. That’s why understanding these pathways is so important in biochemistry. Even small disruptions can lead to major disorders.”

You blinked at him, slightly overwhelmed. “You make it sound so... logical. How do you remember all of this?”

“It’s just repetition,” Tsukishima replied with a shrug. “Biochemistry is all about understanding the interactions between molecules. Once you get the hang of it, everything starts to connect.”

As the conversation continued, Tsukishima walked you through the interplay between neurotransmitters and enzymes, explaining how they influenced broader biochemical processes. His explanations were clear, but it was hard not to get distracted by how calm and focused he was, leaning in closer to make sure you understood each concept.

But the more time passed, the more you felt a growing exhaustion settle over you. Between the mental strain of studying and the quiet closeness of Tsukishima beside you, your energy was beginning to drain.

When you finally put your pen down after the last question on a practice test, you stretched and let out a sigh. “I’m fried.”

Tsukishima didn’t respond at first. Instead, he leaned back and, without a word, laid down on the floor beside your desk. He stretched out lazily, using his arm as a makeshift pillow and staring up at the ceiling. “You’re not the only one,” he muttered, his voice tired but relaxed.

You blinked at him, a bit surprised by the sudden change in his posture. It was rare to see him so laid-back—literally. After a brief moment of hesitation, you decided to join him, slowly lowering yourself to the floor beside him. You lay down on your back, but as you settled in, your head accidentally nudged against his bicep.

You instantly sat up, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

But before you could move further, Tsukishima’s hand reached out—gently rested on your side head. His touch was light, almost hesitant, but firm enough to stop you from pulling away. Without looking directly at you, he shifted his arm, guiding your head back to rest on his bicep.

“It’s fine,” he said quietly, his voice almost too soft to catch. His gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling, but there was an unmistakable warmth in his usually cool tone.

For a moment, you were too stunned to react. Your head was resting against his arm, close enough that you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. There was an unexpected gentleness in the way he’d pulled you back, as if he didn’t mind the proximity—maybe even welcomed it.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the small space between your bodies, the quietness of the room amplifying the soft rhythm of his breathing. Your mind raced with the unexpected intimacy of the moment, but you stayed where you were, too tired—and maybe too curious—to pull away again.

As the two of you lay there, the silence stretched on, comfortable and heavy all at once. Neither of you spoke, but the lack of words didn’t feel awkward. If anything, it felt like something unspoken had settled between you—something quiet but significant, like the first glimpse of a deeper connection.

After what felt like an eternity, you turned your head slightly, sneaking a glance at him. His eyes were still trained on the ceiling, his expression unreadable, but the faintest trace of a smile lingered at the corner of his lips.

You turn to face Tsukishima, your head slightly tilted as your eyes meet his. “Thanks for helping me study. I think I’ll need you every time I have a test,” you whisper, your smile soft and sweet.

Tsukishima’s gaze lingers on you, softer than you’ve ever seen. His smile is small but genuine, his eyes crinkling slightly as he holds your gaze. “Now you know how to take advantage of me.”

You both share a quiet laugh before his hand gently cups your cheek, and in that moment, everything shifts. The image of Tsukishima—the sharp-tongued TA who once scolded you in the lab—fades away, replaced by this softer, more tender version of him. His touch is careful, protective, and the warmth in his eyes speaks volumes.

The tension in the room changes, the air growing heavier as the reality of who he has become to you settles in. Tsukishima, once just an authority figure in your academic life, now stands as something more: a person who is always there, always looking out for you, someone who makes you feel… loved? The thought lingers in the back of your mind, almost too much to process, but undeniably there.

For the first time, the distance between you feels smaller, almost nonexistent. He’s no longer just your tutor, the guy who teases you or keeps you on track—he’s something more significant, someone who brings you comfort and quiet strength. His touch and gaze say what words can't, and suddenly, you’re not sure if you want to break this moment at all.

tagslist (free to mention) ; @theweirdfloatything @snowthatareblack @ilovemymomscooking @nayiiryun @knightofmidnight @kozumesphone @scxrcherr

[fourthavecafe]

sukuna using tickling as a punishment for you

Sukuna had seen many things in his thousand years, but the sight of you in that outfit—tiny mini skirt hugging your hips, crop top exposing your belly-was something that caught him off guard.

He said nothing, of course, his face remaining as cold and unreadable as ever, but inside, he was far from composed. The sight of your thighs, the way your skin caught the light and the complete lack of regard you had for covering yourself... It sent a ripple through his ancient mind.

There was no way in hell you were stepping outside like this.Without a word, Sukuna closed the distance between you, his imposing figure towering over yours. You barely had time to register the shift in the air before his warm breath brushed against the back of your neck. He leaned in close, his mouth near your ear, voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.

"And where exactly do you think you're going dressed like this?" His tone was measured, as always but there was something primal lurking beneath the surface. His eyes traced the curve of your waist, lingering on the bare skin of your midriff. He wasn't used to seeing you like this and the sight was making something ancient and possessive stir within him.

You smirked, turning slightly to meet his gaze, but you could feel the tension radiating off him. "Out. Why?"

The corner of his mouth twitched but instead of answering, he moved closer, his four arms wrapping around you, two resting on your shoulders while the others held your hips. His grip wasn't rough, but it was firm, making it clear he wasn't in the mood for games. His lips brushed against your ear again, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice now.

"You're not going anywhere dressed like this." His voice was softer but still carried that dangerous edge. "Unless you want me to rip this ridiculous outfit off and remind you who you belong to."

Sukuna's crimson eyes darkened as they scanned your body once more, and you could feel the heat of his gaze, his mind conflicted between allowing you the freedom you always demanded and the overwhelming desire to keep you all to himself.

Your heart raced as his hand slid from your waist, tracing the bare skin of your belly with a surprisingly gentle touch. He was possessive, yes, but there was something almost protective in his actions, a side of him that only you ever saw. You looked up at him, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression remained as unreadable as ever.

"I wasn't asking for permission" you teased, though your voice wavered slightly.

He chuckled darkly, his grip tightening just enough to make your pulse quicken. "You think you're in control here, little one?"

Before you could answer, Sukuna's hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him, his eyes burning into yours. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, a silent reminder of the power he held.

"No" he whispered, voice dangerously low.

"You belong to me."

You pouted, your voice dropping into a playful whine. "But Sukunaaa-"

His eyes didn't soften. Sukuna wasn't one for indulgence, especially when it came to your little protests. Words didn't mean much to him; it was his actions that spoke volumes.

Before you could blink, he moved-too fast for you to register. In a flash, you were no longer standing but swept up effortlessly into his arms. He carried you with ease, not even a hint of strain in his powerful muscles.

The next thing you knew, you were being laid onto the bed, the softness of the mattress catching you off guard.

Your heart raced as you stared up at him, wide-eyed and stunned by how swiftly he had moved. You didn't even have time to process what was happening when he loomed over you, his expression unreadable, a mix of dark amusement and something far more dangerous.

"Sukuna, what are you-" you began, but your voice caught in your throat as your hands were suddenly pinned above your head. His grip was firm, but not painful, as two of his arms held your wrists in place effortlessly, keeping you at his mercy.

He leaned in closer, his face just inches from yours, and you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His crimson eyes gleamed with something predatory, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You want to show off this much skin?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Then you'll get exactly what you're asking for."

Before you could respond, one of his hands, with sharp claws gleaming in the dim light, moved slowly towards your exposed stomach. His claw barely touched your skin, tracing the curve of your belly with a featherlight precision that sent shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitched as he dragged his claw just above your navel, so gentle it was almost maddening. You squirmed beneath him, trying to stifle the giggles bubbling in your chest but it was no use. A soft laugh escaped your lips as his fingers continued their torment, teasing the sensitive skin of your tummy with the lightest of touches.

"S-Sukuna, stop-!" you gasped between breaths, but he only chuckled darkly, clearly amused by your reaction.

"Oh?" he drawled, the corner of his lips curling into a smug smile. "I thought you wanted attention. You don't like this?"

His fingers continued to tickle, his claw’s grazing your skin with agonizing precision, just enough to send you into fits of uncontrollable laughter without causing any pain. You thrashed beneath him, helpless against the sensation, your body arching as you tried desperately to escape his grasp.

"I-I can't—!" you cried out, laughing uncontrollably, your whole body trembling from the tickling. "Sukuna, please!"

But he didn't relent. If anything, your laughter only seemed to amuse him further.

His other hand joined in, now lightly scratching along your sides and your legs kicked out instinctively as the tickling became almost unbearable.

"You're not going anywhere" he said coldly, his voice as calm and detached as ever, though there was an unmistakable glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he watched you squirm.

His touch was torturous-gentle, teasing and unrelenting. Every flick of his claw’s sent waves of laughter through you and no matter how much you begged, he wasn't stopping. He was determined to teach you a lesson, though this was far from the punishment you had imagined.

Pinned beneath him, powerless to stop his teasing, you couldn't help but feel the intensity of his gaze as he watched you, completely at his mercy.

Tears were beginning to slip from the corners of your eyes, your cheeks flushed and sore from laughing so hard. Sukuna, as merciless as ever, showed no signs of stopping. His body hovered over yours, his weight making it impossible for you to squirm away. Every ticklish touch sent waves of laughter through you and your muscles ached from thrashing under his relentless teasing.

Your breath hitched in panic when you felt his hand deftly slide to the back of your mini skirt. With a swift motion, he unzipped it, the cool air brushing against your now exposed skin. Your heart pounded as your skirt slipped down, leaving only your panties in the way, which did nothing to protect you from what he had in store.

Sukuna's eyes gleamed with dark amusement as he ran his hand down to your exposed upper thighs. He wasted no time, his clawed fingers gently squeezing and teasing the soft skin there. The sensation was overwhelming. The moment he touched your upper thighs, a scream of laughter escaped your lips, louder than before, uncontrollable.

He used his two free hands to grip your legs, spreading them apart with ease, his hold firm but unhurried. His eyes flickered with a dangerous glint, fully aware of how vulnerable you were now, your upper thighs completely exposed and at his mercy.

"No, Sukuna, please-" you managed to gasp between fits of laughter but your words were cut off as he continued to squeeze and tickle your thighs with cruel precision. Your body convulsed with laughter, your back arching off the bed as you tried to escape his unrelenting assault.

"You asked for this" Sukuna purred, his voice low and filled with smug satisfaction.

"If you want to flaunt your skin, then you better be ready to suffer the consequences."

He leaned down even closer, his breath warm against your neck, while his hands continued their torturous work, squeezing and teasing your trembling thighs. You were completely helpless beneath him, your body shaking with laughter so intense it was making your head spin. Tears streamed down your face as you gasped for air, unable to form coherent words as Sukuna's relentless tickling continued.

Every touch, every squeeze of your sensitive skin, sent electric shocks through your body and the more you begged, the more he seemed to enjoy it. He was merciless, his expression never changing from that cold, calculated amusement as he toyed with you.

In that moment, there was no escape, only the sound of your desperate, breathless laughter filling the room as Sukuna, the king of curses, teased you without a shred of mercy.

Sukuna's teasing only intensified as he watched you struggle beneath him, helpless and breathless with laughter. His crimson eyes gleamed with amusement as his hands slid up from your thighs, fingers brushing over your skin before settling on your hips.

He gave them a firm squeeze, and you erupted into another fit of uncontrollable laughter, the sensation too much for you to handle.

A low, satisfied chuckle escaped his lips.

"You wore this outfit on purpose, didn't you?" he murmured, his voice dripping with mockery. His claws dug lightly into the sensitive skin of your hips, sending fresh waves of laughter through you. "You wanted this. You wanted to be punished."

You shook your head, trying to protest but the words died in your throat as more laughter poured out. Your body trembled beneath him, powerless to stop his relentless teasing. Sukuna leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he continued to torment you with his touch.

"Don't lie to me” he whispered, his voice dark and teasing. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? You can't fool me. I can feel it,you wanted my hands on you, didn't you?"

Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to block out his words, but it was impossible. His voice was like velvet, smooth and dangerous, wrapping around you and making it harder to breathe through your laughter. Sukuna's fingers pressed harder into your hips, his thumbs digging into the bones and you could do nothing but scream in laughter, your body shaking uncontrollably.

He continued, his tone almost playful now, though the edge of control and dominance never left. "Look at you. You can't even speak. I think you're having too much fun." He laughed softly, as if this whole situation was nothing more than an amusing game to him. "Maybe I should make this last a little longer... after all, it seems like you can't get enough."

You could barely hear him through the haze of your laughter, tears spilling from your eyes as your body bucked against him in a desperate attempt to escape. But Sukuna's grip was ironclad and he wasn't letting you go anywhere. His hands squeezed your hips with precision, targeting your most sensitive spots and each touch sent you spiraling deeper into uncontrollable laughter.

The more you squirmed, the more pleased Sukuna seemed to become. "What's wrong?Can't handle it?" His voice was soft but mocking, teasing you with every word."You're not even trying to escape,are you sure you don't like this?"

You couldn't answer. Your chest heaved as you gasped for air, laughter spilling from your lips in broken, breathless bursts. All you could do was close your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation and the sound of Sukuna's voice, his mocking tone ringing in your ears as he continued his merciless teasing.

For him, this was all a twisted game-one he was enjoying far too much and for you, there was no escape from his relentless torment, only the sound of his taunting voice and the maddening, unyielding touch of his hands.

Your laughter, once loud and uncontrollable, began to weaken as exhaustion started to set in. Each breath was ragged, your chest heaving as you tried to pull yourself together but Sukuna wasn't done. He watched you with that same predatory smirk, his crimson eyes gleaming as he took in the sight of you-breathless, helpless, and completely at his mercy.

He could tell you were nearing your limit but that only fueled his desire to push you further, to really make sure you learned your lesson. His face hovered dangerously close to yours and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His breath brushed your cheek as he leaned in and before you could even think to plead, his lips were at your neck.

A shiver shot through you as his tongue grazed your skin, hot and teasing. Your body jerked in response but you were too exhausted to properly fight back. Sukuna's smirk deepened against your neck and then, without warning, his hands moved to your underarms, his sharp fingers and nails digging into the sensitive flesh there.

It was a sensory overload-his proximity, his tongue on your neck and now his hands relentlessly tormenting your most vulnerable spots. A panic rose inside you, and you thrashed weakly beneath him, overwhelmed by the combination of sensations.

Your laughter returned in breathless, high-pitched gasps, but now it was more desperate than before. "S-Sukuna-" you tried to speak between the bursts of laughter but your words were barely coherent. The way his fingers worked into your underarms, combined with the hot, wet sensation of his tongue sliding against your neck, had you spiraling.

Tears streamed down your face as you started to break, your voice coming out in frantic pleas. "I-I'm sorry!" you gasped, your body trembling under his touch. "I-I'll never wear it again! I p-promise!"

Sukuna pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his smirk widening at the sight of your desperate expression. His grip on your underarms tightened, his fingers digging in just enough to make you squirm helplessly, sending more shocks of ticklish agony through your already exhausted body.

"Now, now.." he purred, his voice low and teasing as he tilted his head. "That's what I thought."

He leaned in again, this time pressing a soft kiss to your neck, contrasting with the sharpness of his hands torturing your underarms. Your mind was spinning, barely able to comprehend anything but the overwhelming sensations as you continued to gasp and plead.

"You thought you could get away with flaunting yourself like that?" Sukuna continued, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Not a chance."

You were completely undone now, apologizing profusely between ragged breaths. "I-I won't! I swear, Sukuna, p-please...!"

He chuckled darkly against your skin, clearly satisfied with your response but he didn't stop. His fingers continued their relentless teasing, making sure you truly understood the lesson he was trying to teach you.

You had never felt more vulnerable, more at his mercy. And Sukuna, ever the sadist, reveled in every second of your torment.

[booksandmore]

hawks edit to mastermind

a hawks and lady nagant edit to clara bow would go so hard ESPECIALLY with deku or tokoyami for the last verse

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Hi dear,

I was wondering if you could write for creepy neighbor! Michael x fem! reader, where he finds her on social media and downloads her pics to jerk off to then gradually 2 months later he storms into her house at night and fucks her into the mattress, love your blog <3

a/n: i absolutely can write that! thank you so much for the request and i hope you like it <3

pairing: creepy neighbour!michael x fem!reader

warnings: stalking, home intrusion, unprotected sex, rough sex

word count: 1005

You were beautiful, that much Michael knew. Even as you were staggering up the front steps to your door, your coordination severely lacking, he thought you were the most beautiful person he'd seen in a while.

Something about you always made his cock twitch in his pants, a sensation he had long since forgotten, it had been so long.

He'd first noticed you a few months ago, stumbling up the front steps to your new house, with a heavy box in your arms. No one ever came near his house, so he was surprised to find that you had been the one to finally move in next door.

He thought he had finally gone mad, that the long stretches of silence he usually endured had finally corrupted his mind, destroyed his sanity.

But with each month that passed, it became apparent to him that you were in fact real, and you were living right next door.

As he watched you jam your keys into the door, he quickly unbuttoned his coveralls, wrapping his hand around his aching cock.

But unfortunately, your brief presence outside your door wasn't enough to satisfy him, so he found himself reaching for the phone he'd stolen, quickly bringing up the images he'd taken from your social media.

He found that he rather enjoyed the idea of being able to watch somebody by simply tapping a few buttons on a screen. It certainly saved him the energy of having to sneak around outside all the time. Now, he could just watch you from inside the walls of his own home.

He pulled up an image of you in a bikini, the sun warming your skin and your chest glistening. He imagined his hands on you, rough fingers slipping beneath the straps, pulling the material over your head.

He imagined your breasts. He imagined his hands, wandering over your body, dipping inside your panties, driving his cock into you...

He wanted to hear you scream. He wanted to feel your skin beneath his hands, his cock buried deep inside your pussy.

Once he came to the realisation that a simple image wouldn't be enough to satisfy him, he put the phone down, tucking his cock back into his pants and walking towards the door.

You were home alone tonight, he knew that, which meant he was free to pay you a visit, satiate his need for you.

He silently left his house, walking straight up the steps to your house, and he opened the door with ease, noting that you rarely remembered to lock your doors at night.

Luckily for you, Michael had no intention to actually harm you tonight. He only intended to finally live out his fantasy, to feel your skin against his as he fucked you.

You were halfway up the stairs when you suddenly heard something behind you, strong hands roughly gripping your hair, forcing you forwards.

"What the fuck?!" You screamed, struggling in his hold as he continued to shove you forwards, barely even flinching as you thrashed around. "Let me go!"

It only took mere minutes to reach your bedroom, and he released his hold on your hair, forcefully throwing you into your mattress. And that was when you saw his face, the signature white halloween mask that belonged to none other than Michael Myers.

You thought he was dead. Everyone did. Yet here he was, standing over you as you laid there helpless.

"Michael?" You breathed out, staring up at him in shock. "Is that really you?"

He offered you no response, simply standing there motionless, his muffled breathing filling the silence.

"Michael─"

Before you were able to say anything else, he was closing in on you, his hands quickly finding the waistband of your shorts, effortlessly tugging the material from your body.

You probably should've struggled, attempted to fight him off in some way, but you could only lay there as he pushed your shirt up your body, revealing your tits to him.

You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. You also hadn't expected to be so turned on by it.

You gasped when you felt his hands on your tits, the heat growing between your legs becoming uncomfortable.

"Michael," you whined. "Please, fuck me."

That was all the encouragement he needed to finally take his cock out, wasting no time in pushing into you, a muffled groan falling from his lips when he heard you cry out.

His hands were still roughly gripping your tits as he thrusted into you at a bruising pace, revelling in the sounds that he was pulling from your throat, and the near violent slapping of skin that filled the small bedroom.

You let out something short of a scream as he fucked you into the bed, the pressure building in your stomach becoming almost too much to bear.

"Oh, fuck! Shit!" You hissed, desperately clawing at the bed sheets.

Michael didn't let up, curling his hands around your waist as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.

He loved the way you were squirming beneath him, trying to get away, to relieve yourself of the pressure.

And it wasn't long until you felt the sting of tears in your eyes, your body aching as he continued to pound into you.

"Michael," you breathed. "Oh God!"

The fire that had been building inside you finally exploded, a shock of pleasure coursing through you as you continued to cry out, your vision becoming blurred.

Michael continued to fuck you through your orgasm, your body becoming limp as he slapped up against you. And it only took one last pathetic moan from you for his hips to stutter, pleasure crashing over his own body now as he spilled into you, a muffled groan pushing past his lips.

Once he was finished, he pulled out of you, leaving you to watch as he tucked himself away, quickly doing up his coveralls before turning and walking out of your door.

Michael would definitely be doing this again.

[Main Masterlist]

[elfiewhore]

Mommy domme elf story

Hello my dears and darlings! Finally, the long promised elf mommy domme story is here! Or at least, the first two chapters. As I began writing I realised that this idea had a firm hold on my mind and I want to write a slow, lewd and enticing tale. So that means this will be part 1 of ? - The first two chapters.

Please feel free to give me any feedback and/or tell me what you'd like to see next! This story is written from the perspective of the reader as the member of an adventuring party. The gender and name of the protagonist is purposefully left vague which, while it does mean some specific descriptions will be a little nonspecific, hopefully means that you can easily identify yourself in the story <3 This story is strictly 18+ and contains/will contain content including but not limited to: Humiliation, peeing, diapers, AB/DL, gfd, age regression, crossdressing(depending on how you identify), chastity and monsterfucking. All that out of the way, without further adieu I give you the first two chapters of my as-yet-unnamed story!

Chapter 1: An unexpected parting “I’m afraid I cannot continue along this path. To be quite frank you are all far too reckless. The strain it places upon me is far greater than any I have faced before. I wish you well, but I must depart.” That was the last words of your party’s healer, a priestess sworn to a god of healing. She was your last resort, having had to beg for the mercy of the church to provide her services free of charge. And she wasn’t wrong. Your party are notably reckless, charging headlong into combat without a second thought. This devil-may-care attitude had at first earned you some renown, as your bravado led to taking on the most dangerous of missions posted in the Adventurer’s guild. Slaying harpies, undead, and even a gryphon! The stuffed head of which is now resting within the guilds’ storage as collateral for your replacement arms and armour after the last debacle. Not that it was your fault, mind! You were always good. You listened to the numerous healers that had come and gone through your party. Standing where they wished, protecting them, ferrying potions. You were always their favourites, it wasn’t fair that the others always dragged you down. But you couldn’t leave either, the reputation stuck. You sent out subtle enquiries to other famous bands only to be rejected at each turn. Even the less reputable groups required steep entry fees as ‘insurance’ should they require costly resurrection magicks. Truly it was a terrible situation. And now here you were sitting in the foyer of the guild. The wooden walls of this esteemed establishment groaning under the weight of trophies and banners of heroes long past. They did little to inspire as you sat with your chin in your hands, waiting for a representative from the guilds’ treasury so that you can convince them not to repossess your equipment. “Just give ‘em the puppydog eyes. No one can resist those!” Your group had told you. And this was also true. It wasn’t your fault that you weren’t especially strong or imposing. It was useful for fulfilling your role but unfortunately led to you often being underestimated or treated childishly. Your mind swirled in a thunderstorm. Travelling without a healer was tantamount to a death sentence. Out in the wilderness, even the smallest cut could lead to a life-threatening infection. Not to mention mummy rot, lycanthropy, wyvern stings. Everyone had a role to play and you were missing one. “Excuse me. Is this the Adventuring Guild?” Came a breathy, soft spoken voice. Airy and light. You glanced up to see a woman standing before the desk, speaking to the clerk. Your breath caught for a moment in your throat as you took her in. Long, beautiful hair the colour of spun gold and braided with gems that glittered like stars tumbled down her back like a waterfall, framing the back of this curvy, enchanting figure. Every movement, no matter how small, was performed with effortless grace as she rested a staff of living wood against the desk. Atop it rested a crystal so pure one could see right through it, and silvery threads of magicked metals intertwined with the knots and whorls of the staff. Pretty (and valuable) as that staff may be your eyes refused to be pulled away from this woman. Clad in a robe of forest greens that flowed about her as if pulled by an unfelt breeze. Trumpet sleeves made of thin, almost translucent fabrics revealed pale and unblemished skin. But most notable of all, perhaps, were her ears. An unusual thing, one might thing, to focus upon. But the tips were long and pointed. 

An elf.. you think to yourself. A rarity to be sure. These reclusive, powerful creatures lived for millennia within their enchanted forests and reclusive holds. To see one traveling the world was an unusual sight indeed, for they often cared not for the affairs of men, halflings and other mortal beings. Content to remain within their own communities and spend their time plumbing the depths of the arcane and the nature of the divine, among others. “Yes this is the Ad-” the clerk stops, their eyes widening as they look up at this woman. “H-How may I.. Help you?” “Hehe! Oh please don’t be alarmed, sweetie. I don’t bite!” The woman’s voice again, a soft whisper. The susurration of a blanket being draped around you. “I’m only here to see if any parties are in need of a.. Oh what’s the word in this era.. A physiker? No..” “A healer?” Your eyes widen. That was your voice. Why did you speak? You groaned internally. Drawing attention to yourself never ended well. The figure turns, blessing you with a radiant smile. “Yes! Oh thank you!” Her eyes regard you from above as you are given a chance to look upon her face. Flawless as the rest, her eyes were a strange cavalcade of colour. At once purple, then gold, then blue as they took you in. Though no wrinkles could be seen, for elves are forever youthful, her countenance held a certain age to it. A wisdom beyond your own. You attempted to be polite, to meet her gaze. But that was difficult at the best of times and you were somewhat distracted by the revelation that her dress did little to contain a bountiful chest. The creamy pale skin stark against the deep green dress. It did not look ill-fitting, mind. Simply.. This woman’s bust demanded attention. Her ruby-clad lips draw your eyes northward once more. “My my! Let me help you with that!” She coos, in a voice tinged deeply with maternal concern. She reaches down and cups your cheek with a touch so delicate and warm you at once wish to melt into it. Your face had been rather beaten up in the last adventure, and with none to restore your vigor now you simply had to patch them up. But now the aches subsided more swiftly than they had ever before. Not just those upon your face, as the elf whispers her magic, it travels through your body. Soothing the woes of fatigue and injury. Even old wounds you had long since accepted receded before her radiance. Her hand pulls away and you can’t stop your face from following. Unbalanced, you collapse upon the floor with an embarrassed groan as you are snapped back to reality. A sound graces your ears. Like a babbling brook meets the chime of crystals. You realise she’s giggling. Your cheeks flush red as you rush to your feet. 

Her laughter stops as she looks genuinely apologetic. “I am sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It was simply.. Cute.” Normally being called such a thing enraged you, frustrated you. But now… It felt comforting. “It’s okay.” you mumble.

“A-hem!” a stuffy voice draws your attention. You see the stuffy mustache first, like a hateful caterpillar resting upon the craggy face of a mountain filled with debt. The treasurer. “You again. I told you before if your party cannot prove to this guild that you are capable of finding a consistent and reliable healer to prevent any further deaths we will be forced to repossess the equipment we have graciously provided! I shan’t hear any more arguments or delays! So I ask for a final time. Have you a member capable of sealing wounds and ensuring your survival?” their stern gaze pierces you and your words wither in your throat. You tried to muster some kind of response but all that begins to croak out is a pathetic “N-no..” “Now now!” A scolding voice rang out. “There’s no need for that! No matter how urgent you feel your issue may be there’s no excuse for snapping! Or being impolite! If you must know ‘tis I that has joined this worthy band of warriors and, personally, I believe you would scarcely find a better purveyor of magicks and mending than one of my people. Now unless you would doubt the provenance of my ability, I have matters to discuss with my noble companion!” It was the elf. When did- You didn’t ask her to join you?! You barely spoke a word to her. And yet here she was, standing beside you with an arm protectively holding you against her side. Your cheek presses against her soft, warm breast through the thin fabric as you are held with a surprisingly firm grip. 

Chapter 2: Mommy’s home

The elf, whom you learned was named Nimue, was true to her word. Requesting (or gently demanding) to be taken to where your group were staying to introduce herself. She was apparently a mage of great renown amongst her own people who had left the isolation of her home to travel amongst the younger races as, in her own words, she ‘missed the energy and vibrancy of youth’ You couldn’t very well say no. You needed a healer. Furthermore elves legendarily had little need for riches which was a source of great frustration for any trader that fancied trying to arrange a trade deal for their crafts. So payment seemed not to be an issue. Dutifully you returned to the house your party had purchased many moons ago. Now somewhat dilapidated, the garden overgrown. It made you well up with shame to bring such a perfect and ethereal figure to this place. But her face remained impassive as she was led inside not that the interior fared much better. Broken bottles, dust, overturned chairs. Too often had your party returned here either too tired or drunk to care about cleanliness and it had become simply a part of the decor. First to meet you were the leaders of your band. A pair of twins, one a swordsman named Krennan and the other a channeller of barbaric rage named Mithra. “Well now, pipsqueak. Who’s this you brought with yo-” Began the swordsman, only to be cut off. “I think that’s quite a rude nickname to give someone, don’t you think?” The elf’s voice came in clipped tones, her hands on her hips. “How would you like it if someone called you pipsqueak, hmm? Just because you’re bigger doesn’t mean you get to bully others you know!” The twins look stunned. Confused. They hadn’t even exchanged names and already this lady was scolding them like a schoolteacher. “Well? Not to mention the absolute state of this abode. I’m told you are the ‘leaders’ of this little group? Hmm? Well I don’t see much leading if you leave this place in such a mess!” You couldn’t help but smile, though you attempted to hide it. To see these two being taken down a peg was… Wonderful. You glanced up at this woman, this saviour and your heart leapt just a little. You clung to her side even though you technically could have left at any time. Nowhere felt safer than right here, especially after her gentle arm almost habitually draped itself around you. “Now do either of you have anything to say for yourselves?” Her voice never raised, not once. But the tone, the power, the authority. It was all that was needed. The duo mumble and hang their heads, somehow cowed by this beautiful stranger. “Now apologize.” She commands. Krennan begins to mumble but withers under her gaze. “S-Sorry for calling you a pipsqueak.” He says a little more clearly. “That’s better. Now dearies. Thanks to a certain someone here-” she announces, rubbing your arm affectionately. “-I am your new… What was the word again in this era?” She asks you. “Healer” You say back up to her, feeling an utter rush of pride that you could be helpful to her. Especially as she beams back down at you. “I am your new healer! I’ll make sure you’re all back in bed safe and sound each and every night!” Her words are accompanied with a happy giggle. “But first sweeties, I think we need to do something about this mess, don’t you? After all. Cleanliness is next to godliness! So come along, pick up a brush. No dillydallying!” She ferries you and the other two further into the house, ushering you like children.

The next few hours consisted of chores. Cleaning the house, trimming the garden, dusting every inch that could be dusted. Your other companions - A scout named Callie and a sorcerer named Ilnax, were roped into the affair with sleepy confusion. That they fucked regularly was the worst kept secret in the group and today was no exception. But Nimue had some kind of.. Allure. Power. Nothing magical, you don’t think. Simply an aura of maternal authority. You found yourself eager to please, trusting that she knew best. And before long, the house was transformed. No longer a dilapidated sty, it looked somewhat close to actually livable! “Okay sweeties! Well done! I’m so proud of you! Teehee! And now it’s bath and bedtime for all of you!” That snapped some of them out of the strange spell she had woven. “Bedtime? We’re not-” Began Callie, only to find Nimue’s smiling face gazing down at her. “I am responsible for your health and that begins with a good and consistent sleep schedule! I’m told you four are constantly staying up far too late. This won’t do, so long as I’m here you will sleep at a reasonable hour! You wouldn’t want to die because of a silly mistake you made because you were cranky, would you?” 

As usual, you were last for the bath. You were used to it. The others simply barged their way past you to take the hot water for themselves. As you stepped into the bathroom you blush as immediately you realise that Nimue is also in there, standing near-naked before the tub. You never thought you would see an ass that perfect but you could probably bounce a gold coin off that thing as silken underwear are nearly swallowed by the cheeks. She turns with a yelp, covering her bare chest but then chuckling and dropping her hands revealing perfectly pink nipples. “Oh, it’s just you! Hehe! Close the door silly.” She says with a chuckle. Your cheeks burn, not just because of her nudity but how somehow you don’t count as someone she would be embarrassed by. As if she doesn’t see you as an adult that would find such a sight enticing. But you find yourself closing the door. “It’s getting late, so I thought I would join you in the bath! That’s okay, right? No one changed the water so I did it myself and added some firestones. It should be nice and warm! C’mon!” She beckons, turning and slipping off her panties before climbing into the tub. You debated leaving, but why should you? She was inviting you in. And the water was literally steaming hot. You hadn’t had a warm bath in so long. You realise that while you had been debating internally your body had made the choice and you were already sinking into that warm, steaming water. The tub, small as it was, would only fit if you sat between her gorgeous thighs. They cushioned your hips like pillows as she wrapped her arms around your stomach, pulling you back against her to give you a hug. Her breasts squishing against the back of your head as she does so. “I’m so glad I found you, little one. This was just what I needed! Oh this is going to be a wonderful, wonderful time!” She coos, bringing some water up and beginning to wash you. Overwhelmed, you simply sit still. It was nice, finally. To have someone stand up for you, take care of you, protect you. Finally you could just relax. Just.. Relax.. “Ooop! It looks like someone’s having a bit of an accident!” She titters. Your eyes flutter open as you look down and to your utter horror you see between your legs a definite tinge of gold in the water. Did you- You pissed yourself! You immediately try to scramble out, stammering an embarrassed apology but again those powerful arms keep you still. “Shhh…” She soothes, softly petting your head. “It’s okay. I understand. You were relaxed. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” She whispers into your ear. “I’ll take care of it. I promise. But for now.. We should make sure there’s nothing else in there, hmm?” Unsure of what she meant, you simply settled back into the water as her hand trailed down between your legs. You tense as she touches your most intimate place, but quickly relax as her gentle hands slowly start to rub and tease you. “W-What are you…” “Helping you relax.. Shhh..” She whispers into your ear as she continues just gently touching you. Holding you in a motherly embrace as her delicate strokes make you shiver so sweetly. You had never been touched like this. So carefully, tenderly. Not trying to simply get you off as quickly as possible. But wanting to fill your mind with a haze of pleasure. It was overwhelming. It was everything. You settle even more comfortably against her chest, half turning to nuzzle into her breast as she holds you close. “That’s my little champion. My brave heroic adventurer! You’ve done so much, such a good job! Now just relax. Let me take care of you. Let mommy take good, good care of you now…” Those words reached your ears and swirled into your mind. Soothing all worries, caressing your anxious soul. You didn’t even realise when you felt your hips lift and grind against her hand as you cum for her. She was taking care of you now. You were hers, happily and hopelessly hers. You could never have imagined how far that would go. 

[lonewolfwriting89]

COVERT RAINFALL

COVERT RAINFALL 

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Summary: Simon snatched your wrist and pulled you into the shower with him, one hand covering your mouth while his body pressed yours into the corner and out of sight.

Warnings – NSFW. Smut. 

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: This is my first time venturing into/writing for another fandom. Hope you all enjoy - please be kind - lots of love xoxo

———

Glancing quickly to the left and right, you scurried across the sharp gravel, praying that no one would be watching in the dim, dusky light. With a quick half-shuffle, you quietly opened the door to the men's showers and slipped inside, thankful that only two cubicles were being used – and you knew one had to be his - Simon Riley - Ghost. 

Sneaking down the short corridor, you prayed your footfalls wouldn't give you away, hopeful that the sound of gushing water would mask any noises you might inadvertently make. Your presence here was forbidden, and to get caught would surely end your military career. And if you were caught in his shower, it would mean the end of not one career, but two. 

However, after five long months of trembling at the sound of his deep, gravelly voice and aching for the feel of those rough hands to touch your body, you had decided to take matters into your own hands.

You spotted the distinctive stripes of his towel at the opposite end of the unit from where another bundle of possessions lay. Oh, how many times you had laid in your bed and stroked yourself, imagining that same towel being wrapped around his hips, envying it being lucky enough to dry those rivulets of water from his sculpted body.

Slipping out of your t-shirt and shorts, you quickly pushed them under his pile of clothes, before pulling back the edge of the shower curtain to slip inside. You stood there, one foot raised to step over the ledge, naked and vulnerable, your breath frozen in your chest. 

Your lieutenant was standing there under the sporadic pulse of the spray, head down, water pounding the back of his neck, dog tags softly jingling under the force of water. Your eyes followed that cascading water down his tall, broad body, your mouth drying at the delicious picture being burned into your memory.

The cessation of water from the other cubicle, most likely Soap, made your inadvertent gasp of pleasure audible, and Ghost’s head snapped upright, his deep murky eyes nailing you in place as they travelled leisurely down the length of your exposed body. At the sound of the other curtain being slid aside and recognising the danger of you being caught out in the open, Simon snatched your wrist and pulled you into the shower with him, one hand covering your mouth while his body pressed yours into the corner and out of sight.

Tense with the fear of discovery, you listened as MacTavish collected his things, humming loudly to himself, and you both heaved a sigh of relief at hearing the door shut behind him. Your lieutenant glared down at you, the water dripping off his nose doing nothing to lessen the fire in his eyes.

"What the fuck d’ya think you're doing?", he hissed, crowding you back even tighter into the corner. At almost 6”3’ he towered over you, making you shrink further.

"I'm...I'm sorry, I just--", you got no further before his voice sliced through yours, deadly sharp, a tone you’d only heard him use in the most dire of circumstances.

"Spit it out Y/N, I don't have all damn day”.

You closed your eyes, mortified, and wished the floor would open up under you, or that you would somehow miraculously fit down the drain. Far from pleasuring this man, as had been your intentions, you had obviously blown any possible chance you could ever have with him. Fighting back tears of humiliation, you pushed against his shoulders, averting your eyes from the wrath in his, silently begging him to just let you go.

Snarling his displeasure, Ghost grabbed your forearms and shoved you back in the corner, taking no notice of the wet hair flopping into your eyes. Effortlessly lifting you up, he tried to force you to look directly at him but you ducked your head, trying desperately to hide those tears, but there was nowhere to go. Your cheeks burning, you trembled against him, the forgotten water still pouring over you both in a lukewarm caress.

With your eyes clenched tight, you could feel the force of his burning gaze, but it was a shock when he wrapped both arms around you, hauling you up against him and ravaging you with the deepest, darkest kiss you could have imagined. Tipped with rage, tinted with fear and full of frustration, it buckled your knees and made you sag against his hard body, shock and ecstasy coursing through you in equal measures. Running your hands up his tattooed arms, over his shoulders and down his water-slicked back, you pressed against him, your tongue tangling with his as you shared ragged, panting breaths.

Ripping your mouth from his, you struggled to breathe, fighting the silvery dots swimming around your vision. Fisting his hand in your hair, he pressed his body closer to yours and plastered his lips to yours again. Moaning, you slid your hands up the plane of his solid back, caressing each bold bulge of muscle, simultaneously lifting one leg to wrap around his waist. Your knee slammed against the side of the cubicle with a loud bang, and cursed under your breath, trying to shift into a different position. You lifted your arms, wrapping them around his shoulders and rubbing the tips of your nails through his damp, dark blonde hair and banged an elbow on the wall so hard your fingertips tingled.

Every time you tried to shift, tried to wrap yourself around him, you ended up making more noise, noise which was ill-afforded given your location. You whined in frustration, mewling your displeasure at being unable to get closer to him.

"Slow down love”, he murmured against your lips.

The sound of his voice soothed you instantly, your mind automatically obeying the higher-ranking soldier, while your body instantly reacted to the velvet roughness of Simon’s command. With a soft sigh, you melted against him, gasping in pleasure as his kisses gentled; nipping little tastes of your lips, sexy, sweeping strokes of his tongue. You pressed yourself tight against him, feeling the water pool between your breasts and his broad chest, feeling the tight grip of his hand squeezing water from your hair to drip down your back, following the arch of your spine and curling over his fingers, splayed low on your back.

With a groan, he pulled away, burying his face in the soft curve of your neck, shudders wracking his body. Wrapping your arms around him, you held him.

"We shouldn't be doing this”, he finally murmured, so softly you almost missed it, "We can’t do this…If we get caught…”.

"Simon...”, you murmured, caressing his back with your hands, trying your best to soothe him. You could feel his unease, and it echoed some of your own. Sliding your hands to his jaw, you lifted his head, locking your eyes with his, feeling an overwhelming urge of pride at been trusted enough to see his face, “I've ached for you for the five months we've been here…I’ve thought about you so many times”, you closed your eyes and laid your head back against the shower wall, your voice a broken whisper, "Please, lieutenant…please give me this”. You hoped using his title would spur him on.

Pressing against you, Simon let you feel his response, "I’ve wanted this for so long”, he murmured huskily, eyes closed, "I know it's wrong, you're under my command and I shouldn't do this—but I can't help it. I tried not to. God, I tried not to”.

His eyes opened and he smirked at you, roguish and handsome, that made your knees weak, “You have no idea how many cold showers I've taken, right here in this cubicle”.

"Probably about as many as I have over in the women's shower unit”, you said, caressing his cheek, a flush turning your face crimson.

"Fuck”, his pleasure in that mental image vibrated along your nerves, making you arch and gasp, rubbing your breasts against his chest. His breath hissed at the evidence of your own arousal, your nipples like diamonds scraping across his chest.

"C'mere”, he moaned, cupping your head and angling his lips to yours. Licking the beads of water from the soft curve of your lips, he teased and nibbled his way inside, stroke after stroke of his talented tongue making you dizzy with desire. Stroking his fingers through the wet, heavy length of your hair, you were soon gasping in pleasure and writhing against him, loving these kisses but wanting more.

Ghost twisted you around so that you were directly under the shower spray, you quivered in pure pleasure. The length of his warm body pressing against you, the feel of the cooling water cascading over you in a liquid caress, the sound of his ragged breath in your ear, the tactile explorations his hands were making over your body...all of it combined to give you a rush of pleasure like you’d never felt before. While the water poured over your head you lifted your lips to his and offered yourself to him completely, his name rolling off your lips in a tuneless chant as your body shook in euphoric bliss. Simon moaned, throbbing against your stomach.

His fingers stroked your cheek, your bright gaze met his dark, midnight stare. You trembled at the fire there, a fire that you knew matched your own. A fire you had only dreamt about, hoped to see.

Lifting your arms, he curled your wrists over the shower-head and tipped your head back until the water was streaming against your forehead and along the curve of your scalp, almost like a lover's caress. Cupping one hand over your hip and caressing the length of your body with the other, he admonished you not to move, tightening his fingers into your skin whenever you dared disobey.

Then, with a skill and style that set you aflame, Simon proceeded to claim every inch of your body as his, tasting you with his lips, lavishing you with his tongue, nipping you with his teeth, until your mind became a hazy mess. From his husky whispers in your ear as he nipped your earlobe, to his careful attention to the full swells of your breasts, he set every nerve screaming for release, bursting with pleasure. 

Slowly, softly he nuzzled your breasts, starting at the upper slope and curling around to the underside in ever-narrowing circles that had you babbling incoherently for him to take you. When your hips rocked against him, pressing your heat to his cock, his fingers tightened on your hip, reminding you to be still. When you tried to lift your head from the teasing spray, shivers coursed through you at the added slickness of water to your skin-on-skin caresses, Simon wrapped a hand in the ends of your hair and tugged, reminding you of your position.

Finally Simon’s hot mouth enveloped your throbbing nipple after countless minutes of purely sinful attention everywhere but where you wanted it. You exploded in ecstasy and your thrashing body was rewarded with a sharp slap to your ass, reminding you that you had been told not to move.

Lifting his head from your breasts, Ghost released your swollen nipple with a swift, curling lick that made your toes curl in pleasure, before snarling at you that you had been ordered to stay still. Pinned in place by the fierceness of his scowl, you tipped your head back and closed your eyes. You quivered in both longing and dread, reminding yourself that any punishment was worth the pleasure of having this man as your lover.

Standing up straight, he kissed your eyelids, a light, gentle pressure that made you ache. He reached up and slowly disentangled your wrists from the shower-head brace, softly sliding his fingers along the undersides of your arms before closing his hands around your ribs and lifting you up, only to turn and set you back down. A quick adjustment of the shower-head had it pointing directly at your aching, throbbing breasts, wringing a low moan of pleasure from you. With your eyes closed, the sensation of water flowing over you nearly brought you to your knees, but it was the first touch of his mouth against your soft, pussy that had them buckling for real.

Only the sheer strength of his arms supported you up, as Simon slowly stroked his tongue over you, broad and flat on the outer lips, then curling and stiff for a slow sweep along your wet slit. Whenever his tongue rubbed over your clit, he'd curl it up and flick over it, faster and faster, before capturing it between his teeth and tugging gently. Your legs clamped around his head, hands grasping for anything to hold onto, as you shrieked his name at the top of your lungs, gushing all over his face, coating him in your pleasure. 

Letting go of your hip with one hand, he took advantage of your orgasm and pushed his thick fingers up inside your core, spreading them out to stretch you, preparing your pussy for his thick cock. With each motion of his invading fingers into the depths of your spasming pussy, each flicker of that wonderfully talented tongue against your throbbing clit, you came over his face again, mewling his name loudly enduring the over stimulating ecstasy.

Surging to his feet, hands holding your hips to steady your shaking, dazed body, he slid you out from under the water's spray and pushed you down to your knees, his hand gently tipping your head back. With a low moan Simon tipped his own head back, stroking the swollen length of his cock, and released thick spurts of cum all over you.

Opening your mouth you caught what you could, but much of his release landed in your hair and on your cheeks, dripping down onto your chest. Rivulets of cum sliding down to coat your nipples before dripping off the hardened tips. You scooped the falling droplets into your hands and eagerly licked your fingers clean, reveling in the sweet, tangy taste of his cum.

Panting for breath, Simon leaned down to help you up off the shower floor, but halfway up his objective changed, and suddenly his hands were back in your hair, his mouth devouring yours, your tongues tangling as you slipped and slid your way up the wall, nails catching at his back, scratching him. As his tongue duelled with yours and you shared the taste of each other on your lips, he hissed in a pleasured pain, the sound peaking your nipples.

Nipping at his lower lip, you purposely scraped your nails across his back again, feeling the skin give way. Growling low in his throat, he yanked your head back, exposing your throat. Careful not to leave a mark too high for you to hide, he ravished you, bruising you from shoulder to collarbone, nipping at your neck he dared not mar. As he sucked and bit at your delicate skin, you trembled, wanting desperately to bear some mark of his possession, as he would now bear the scars of yours.

Finally you could take no more, and grasping his head, you pulled his lips back to yours. The little balance you’d found in the slippery shower was destroyed, and you tumbled out into the dressing area, barely catching yourselves before crashing into the bench where Simon’s clothes were still piled, yours tucked safely beneath them.

Pushing your shoulders back against the bench, he straddled your hips, still hard, rubbing himself against the soft skin of your stomach. Uncaring of the dangers of being caught like this, you were completely focused on each other to the exclusion of anything and everything else. You slipped your hands between you both, stroking him against you, feeling the head of his cock brush against the underside of your breast with each long caress. His head tipped back as his hands gripped your shoulders, your fingers caressing him, stroking his hard, throbbing length. Scooting down a little, you slid him into the valley between your breasts, moaning at the feel of his hot flesh pressed between your breasts. Squeezing them together, you completely encased him, shifting your hips to gently rock him up and down.

Leaning down, he pulled out of your hold, and cupping your jaw, pulled you up to kiss you. In your mind, you could see how you must have looked, your wildly curling hair tumbling over the back of the bench, lips locked with his, your arms braced on his shoulders, hands gently cupping his head and holding him to you, his arms wrapped around you, curling you up close. Opening your eyes and smiling softly into his, you lifted your hand and softly traced the barest fingertip over the sweet curve of his lips, feeling the tingles still shooting through you from your prolonged, deeply sensual kisses. His stubble tickled the sensitive tip. Swinging a leg over you, he smoothly reversed your positions, until with a gasp of surprised pleasure, you found yourself straddling his hips. Your splayed pussy was sliding along the length of his hot, hard, throbbing cock, making you ache for him to fill you.

Playfully he rubbed against you, teasing you. The swollen lips of your pussy slickly caressed him, and each brush of his cockhead over your swollen clit made you jump in pleasure. Leaning forward you kissed his head, his ear, his eyebrow. Wherever you could reach, you branded him with your lips. Ever so gently, he raised you up and then slowly lowered you down onto his swollen, eager cock. Simon’s shoulders were now supported by the bench, his rough hands clenched against your shoulder blades as you arched in pleasure, gasping as he stretched you.

As you had made your marks on his back, he now made his inside of you, making sure that you fit him, and only him. Lower, ever lower he guided you, until finally you could feel his balls pressing against the softness of your pussy. Gasping at the mix of pleasure-pain from being stretched like this, his name trembled from your lips as your pussy clenched around him, that rhythmic internal caress signalling yet another orgasm given you.

As you trembled and shook your way through euphoria, he never moved, forcing himself to just sit there and ride out the waves of your pleasure, watching you as you gave yourself over to pure sensation. Knowing that Simon was watching you, compounding your pleasure. You arched your back, rising and falling on his cock, catching glimpses of his possessive smile through the haze of passion fogging your eyes. Every slightest movement set off another round of fireworks in your stomach, and you drenched him with another wave of your slick. You were insatiable for him, and loving every second of it.

After what seemed like hours' worth of continuous pleasure, he tightened his hands on you, slowing your rocking motion, easing you to a halt. He held you as you quieted, stroking you from nape to knee, touching a trembling thumb to your lips, stroking the pads of his fingers over your cheek, sliding the backs of those long, strong fingers over the soft curve of your shoulder. Linking his fingers with yours, he lifted your joined hands and softly kissed your fingertips. At the romantic gesture, your heart melted, sending a wave of scorching heat through your body. You hummed happily, bliss taking over you.

"Love”, he murmured, tugging you down to him and kissing you passionately, reasserting his claim over you at the same time that he offered himself up to you. Your hands shook as you held his head, your nails lightly scoring his rugged skin, sending shivers along his length and making his fingers clench where they held you to him.

You leaned forward, rocking gently, causing your hardened nipples to scrape over his chest in a way that made your own breath stumble. Putting your moist, swollen lips to his ear, you whispered, "You feel so good".

Before you could even take your next breath, he had swung you around so that you were now leaning over the bench, knees spread wide, open and available and his for the taking. Fisting his hand in your tangled locks, he tugged your head back, arching you into a fully submissive angle, your breasts thrusting outward as your neck lay exposed and vulnerable to his teeth and lips.

He growled as he slid the hard, hot, full length of his cock deep inside of you, nestling it into that spot he'd created, that he'd claimed, that he owned. Your arms shook as you struggled to hold this position. Your nipples pebbled as he pounded into your pussy, whispering commands in your ear, pinching and tugging you with his free hand, but never letting go of your hair, keeping you arched back and wide open.

Using your slick that was freely running down over his length, he pulled back just enough to slip the head of his cock against your ass. As you whimpered in protest, he surged against you, curling around you and swallowing your scream, claiming you. Crushing your head between his fist and lips, he devoured you, quivering with each cry that poured from your lips, trembling as he listened to your passion, stroking you as you soared through yet another peak. Holding you tight, you both found release, groaning each other’s names.

Slowly, carefully slipping out of you, he rested on his heels, pulling you back into his arms, holding you tight. You felt so protected, so cherished as one hand curled around your waist and the other crossed between your heaving breasts to softly stroke the skin of your neck, caressing the pulse beat still pounding through you. You lifted your arms and held him to you, tipping your head to kiss the curve of his smile, touching your lips to the corner of his mouth and sighing softly in pleasure.

"I guess we better get going, before someone walks in”, Simon said, softly stroking you with his calloused hands, “But I don't want to…I can't get enough of you".

"Nor I, you", your voice rasped in his ear.

Feeling you tremble, he encircled your waist and lifted you up onto the bench, spinning you around to face him. Kneeling between your splayed thighs, he reached up and brushed a wild curl out of your eyes.

"We'll figure it out", he whispered, “I promise”.

———

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[gloryhrs]

⟡ 𝓗𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝓣𝐎 𝓗𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ━━ 「 Sōsuke Aizen. 」

✿.*･｡ ꒰ m! reader, slight yandere! aizen. ꒱

ʚɞ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ WHAT was this? This wasn’t a part of his plan. How could he fall for someone as innocent and pure as you? You were naive in every way possible, from your doe-like eyes to your bright demeanor. He loved it. He couldn't think of anyone as handsome as you. Your beautiful brown complexion, that would shimmer in the sunlight and be so tender to the touch, was extremely attractive to him. He could gaze into those big e/c orbs for hours on end without growing tired of them because they could not overwhelm him. Another reason he enjoyed being around you was that you were such a delightful, well-kept person who disliked dirt. No one couldn’t tell him otherwise that you were perfect for him.

He originally wanted to terminate the emotion by killing you, but as soon as he reached for his sword, an awful ache in his chest demanded he stop. Even with all his effort, he was unable to hurt you. He thought it was odd, he never felt this way before, especially for a man. When you were around, his face heated up and his chest began to pound loudly. The feeling was strange, but it felt wonderful. People noticed that the captain acted friendlier than normal when he was around you. He laughed at all of your jokes, followed you around like a lost puppy, and gave you goodnight hugs that would last for around five minutes. When his lieutenant questioned him about it, he swiftly dismissed it and said that you and him were just close friends. But everyone knew that was all a lie.

Because of you, he could tell Byakyua didn't like him. Byakyua was like a brother to you because you had known him for the majority of your life; which explained why he was so overprotective. Aizen would frequently overhear your and his chats when you two were having tea. Byakyua frequently commented that because he was a captain and somewhat unusual, so you should avoid getting too close to him. However, you would dismiss it and claim that he was merely being polite to you and had no hidden agendas. Of course, Byakyua was bothered. Because of his behavior and the way you would respond to it, he didn't enjoy how people would mistake you and the captain for a couple. Obviously, you ignored what he had to say. Aizen made you happy and brought your comfort when needed. So why would you avoid interacting with him? Aizen claimed that he was acting dramatically once more and didn't understand what he was saying.

Being the day of Rukia's execution, it was one of those days when you needed comfort the most. Even if what she did was wrong, you couldn't bear to witness the death of your dear sister. Aizen decided to take you out to the garden to cheer you up and help her in picking flowers rather than letting you stay around all day gloomy and moping (which was uncommon). He watched as you walked through the garden to collect the new flowers that had grown over the previous two weeks. He smiled softly at how you held the flowers up to your nose to give them a short whiff but ended up sneezing. 'How adorable.' He raised the teacup to his lips, the sweetness of the tea gave him a warm sensation in his chest as he thought to himself. His eyes softened when he turned to face you again and saw you walking while carrying a bouquet of vibrantly colored flowers that perfectly complemented your personality. "Captain Aizen! Do you think she’ll like these?" The warm tingling on the man's cheeks started to appear after you gave him the vibrant plants and sat down next to him.

"I told you it's okay to call me Sōsuke when we're alone, and yes, they're stunning." He took one of the flower from the bouquet to place in your hair. When the breeze swept past your hair at the perfect time, you push the frizzy locks behind your ear. Making you appear heavenly. At that moment, Aizen felt his breath hitch in his throat. He couldn't count on his fingers how many times you looked effortlessly handsome. "I apologize, Ai-Sōsuke." You stopped mid-sentence to correct yourself and giggled when a group of butterflies started flying around your head. Considering that when he found you, you were crying and holding your knees to your chest, the man thought it was good to see you smiling again. He vividly recalled the time he spotted you crying because you were being laughed at by other shinigami and he hated seeing you upset. He murdered each and every one of them on that particular day. Nobody could make fun of his darling and get away with it.

"It's all right, my dear." Your delicate doe eyes returned to his as he caressed your cheek. Oh he loved it when you stared into his eyes like that, so innocent without a care in the world. No one else deserved to stare in his direction, but you. Everyone else wasn't worth a lick of your attention; he wanted to be the only person you gazed at. He observed as your lips raised to create the dazzling smile you struggled to conceal. He never stated it out loud, but he hated when you were overly kind with other people. He wanted to be the only one who received your smile. They didn’t deserve your kindness, no one did, no one but him. Even though you two weren't dating, he made sure to get rid of the repulsive shinigami who had asked you out. He would be lying if he said he wasn't possessive of you. Even if it meant eliminating each of them individually, he refused to let them corrupt you given that he knew what they wanted from you.

The lovely moment was cut short before you could respond when he started to pick up the faint sound of footsteps. Which belonged to none other than Hinamori, his lieutenant. "Captain Aizen! The Head Captain has called a meeting with everyone." He paid her no attention as she spoke. You were something heavily more important than that. The attractive man's breathtaking brown eyes fixed upon on your lips before staring back into your eyes, making your cheeks warm up. "Head Captain needs you, S-Sōsuke." You whispered and turned your eyes away as he sighed. "Oh, I see. Once I come back I would like to talk to you about something extremely important. See you until then, my angel." He took your hand from your lap and gave it a brief kiss, startling both Hinamori and you. "O–Okay!"

ʚɞ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ AS you slept soundly in the king-sized bed, Aizen's finger stroked the bandage covering your forehead. He saw as you unintentionally leaned into his contact as the palm of his hand soothed your cheek, which was stained with dry tears. "I'm sorry, darling. It had to be done." You stirred in your sleep as a result of him kissing your forehead, then you opened those stunning e/c eyes he adored so much. "Sōsuke?" Your eyes widened as you noticed that the man in front of you wasn't the one you had previously seen. As you quickly sat up from the bed and moved away from the man, you nearly fell off. When he saw how you moved away from him, Aizen's gaze saddened. Had Gin struck you so hard that you had forgotten what he looked like? If so, he will pay. "Hello, my beloved. I’m not going to hurt you." He opened his arms up, his eyes softened when you hastily crawled closer to him, arms wrapping around his neck tightly.

"W–Why did you do that Sōsuke? Why did you let Gin hurt Byakyua? Why did you betray Soul Society? What did you take from Rukia? Why did you take me?" He frowned as you questioned him nonstop while tears started to form in your eyes. Even though you were crying, you still managed to look like the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He wiped away the tears with his thumb. "It's because I love you, Y/n. Unfortunately, I had to use force since I knew that if I asked you to come with me, you wouldn't. You didn't deserve to be there or to have that thing's control over you. You weren't deserved by them neither. We are far more superior than them. I am able to provide for you in ways that far exceed your wildest desires. I will give you a throne next to mine when you agree to be my prince. They are unable to provide you with that, unlike me." Your plump bottom lip was stroked by his thumb as he restrained himself from giving you the most passionate kisses.

Your heart began to beat rapidly as your eyes widened. But it was wrong; he was now the enemy and traitor of the Soul Society. But despite how much you wanted to do it, you were unable to punch, swear at, or reject him. He wasn't going to let you go, even if you did. This was the same person that was so kind and gentle with you but quickly took out most all the captains. "Sōsuke, I love you as well. But could you promise me something?" His hands stroked l your cheeks, as you looked into his warm, brown eyes. "Anything, my dove." He said calmly, "I'll keep a promise for you if it means keeping you happy and at peace."

"Please promise to me that you won't harm Byakyua or Rukia. And with no complaints, I'll be your prince." You took his hand into yours and gave it a tight and reassuring squeeze. Aizen mentally groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose; he knew it would go like this. Your heart was going to explode from how much you loved them. He once considered killing them as a result of how frequently you mentioned them. "All right, I promise. I won't harm them. My prince, I assure you." He placed a kiss on your cheek, If he wasn't going to damage them then someone else would do it in his place.

He chuckled as his hand grasped your face to force you to look at him. You gave him an adorable grin and rubbed your nose against his cheek. "You have such gorgeous lips, sweetheart." His eyes swept over your lips before returning to your eyes. His thumb continued to slide across it while he spoke. He pushed his thumb past your lips and into your mouth, causing you to slowly suck on it. Before taking out his thumb, Aizen bit his lip. He couldn't take you at this time. As his hands pulled you onto his lap, he instead smashed his lips against yours. His tongue quickly slipped past your lips as the wet muscle invaded your mouth. When you whimpered and pulled on his collar pleading for more, his hold on your waist grew tighter. He started groping your thighs and ass, followed by forcing you to grind your groin into his while your body started burning up. You uttered yet another string of sinful moans in his mouth as a result of the unfamiliar feeling.

"S–Sōsuke. . ." The man continued to fondle your thighs and ass, often giving it a firm squeeze before kneading it using his hands. Although the sensation was completely foreign to you, it was so good that it left you craving more. Aizen smirked at your dazed state. Those pitiful shinigami who asked you out couldn't possibly have made you feel this way. He gently pushed you down, making you land on the soft cushion. His form now towering over you. "Doesn't it feel good, my dear? They cannot make you feel like this. Only I have the power to make you feel this way." His hands held your thigh while the other held yours as he proceeded to move his hips into yours. "Y–Yes it feels so go–good." You stuttered, your hands fisted into the covers underneath you. He could tell from your reaction that you hadn't had a lot of pleasure beforehand, which was fantastic. Someone like you didn't deserve to be contaminated by those filthy shinigami's; he was going to be the one to bring you a world of pleasure.

"You belong to me, understand?" His gaze darkened as his fingers wrapped around your neck, causing you to nod. "I understand, Sōsuke, I'm not going to run or hide from you." He couldn't believe he fell for an angel like you, you smiled as the glint in his eyes faded. "Thank you; I love you, my darling." Before kissing you, his lips brushed across yours; your lips were so velvety and soft that he couldn't stop kissing them. "I love you too, Sōsuke. Can we cuddle?" You asked sheepishly before glancing away, too shy to look him in the eyes. Aizen laughed at your timidity, "Of course, my darling. We can do whatever you want." He kissed your brow and made you and him trade places, with you now on top of him.

Aizen's eyes softened as you nuzzled your face against his chest before closing your eyes and smiling softly. He massaged your back repeatedly as you drew closer, your face now resting in the crook of his neck. "I'm going to give you the entire world and so much more, my love."

ʚɞ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ "AH! Nice move Ms. Harribel!" You complimented the woman with brown skin who moved the cheese piece. You'd be lying if you said you didn't love life in Hueco Mundo after Aizen took you from Soul Society. Aizen granted you everything you asked for because he didn't want you to lift a finger when he was close by. He wanted to be the best husband possible for you. Everyone looked at him like he had three heads when he introduced you as his husband. Next to him, you looked like a saint! They thought it was all a bad joke until he asked you to show them the ring he had gotten you. He also threatened to torture and murder them if they did not treat him with the utmost respect. Which you didn't think was necessary, but he believed otherwise.

You had to admit that the Arrancars intimidated you, so you stayed in your room for the majority of the time. Until one of the Espadas, Ulquiorra, arrived with a plate of food in his hand, and because he didn't look as threatening as the others, you struck up a conversation with him. After you finished conversing with him, you invited him over for tea. At first, he declined, saying that Aizen didn't want you around him and he didn't want any friends. But you soothed him by telling him that having at least one friend was fine! You and he have been chatting since then. He'd frequently bow his head and greet you while you did the same.

Since then, you've made friends and gotten along with the majority of the Arrancars, partly because you were polite and cheerful, and also because Aizen threatened all of their lives. "Mr. Y/n. Aizen-Sama needs you." The monotone tone of Ulquiorra's voice made you grin. "Ms. Harribel, I'll see you later. I hope we can play again sometime." You waved goodbye to the woman, who returned your actions. After closing the door, you walked alongside the Espada who had been waiting for you. "I haven't seen you all day, Mr. Cifer; how have you been?" You smiled at the solemn man who bent his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I've been doing fine. So, how about you? Has anyone been causing you problems?" He hummed with his hands in his pockets. When he sees you, he often asks how you are or if somebody is troubling you.

"I'm doing great; would you like to come over later to play a game with me? It's okay if you don't want to." You picked at your fingertips, not wanting to scare the Espada away. "Sure. And you don’t need to be so formal about my name. Just call me Ulquiorra." He nodded his head while you internally squealed and bounced from wall to wall. He said yes! "Okay, I'll see you there!" You waved to the Espada before opening the door to your husband's chamber.

Aizen's eyes softened as he saw you skip through the door, your sparkling grin never leaving your face. "Good day, my dear. What makes you so happy and excited?" He watched as you dashed up the stairs to sit in his lap, aka your throne he mentioned. He placed his arms around your waist as soon as you sat in his lap, his lips kissing your neck before kissing your lips sweetly. "Me and Ulquiorra will be playing a game later! I can't believe he agreed." As Aizen's stare darkened greatly while you kicked your feet back and forth like a child. Game? What game can he play with you? You stopped kicking your feet when you felt something crushing your shoulders and neck, causing you hiss in pain. "S–Sōsuke!" You called out to your husband as he immediately snapped out of his trance. His eyes widened when he saw holding back tears while holding the back of your neck.

"I’m so sorry my darling, I didn’t know." His kissed your shoulders before messaging them, causing you to relax in his hold. This wasn’t the first time his Reiatsu almost knocked the wind out of you. "Is there something wrong? Did I make you upset?" You frowned as he caressed your cheek, each time this happened you would always blame yourself. When in reality it was his fault, he couldn’t stop being possessive over you even if he tried. Every time you bring up another man’s name it happens. "Oh no, I was just being jealous again. None of this is your fault." He kissed your forehead and brought you closer in his grasp, making you nuzzle your cheek into his chest. "There’s nothing to be jealous about, you know I love you and you only. Besides, you were the one who told me to stop being cooped up in the room all day." You laughed and removed your head from his chest to look into his beautiful eyes. Aizen smiled before leaning down to give you a kiss. "You’re right, how silly of me. I love you too, my dear husband." He muttered as he placed a kiss on the back of your hand, the gorgeous purple diamond ring standing out.

© gloryhrs, 061023. — notes and reblogs are appreciated! (≧∇≦)

[heaven-s-black-box]

Inadequate- Okumura x male!Reader

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Recovery date: December 20th, 2024

Description: S I'm the simp of Koushuu, unfortunately I deleted my blog, but I noticed that requests are open again. Can I ask for some comfort after having a paranoid breakdown about being insufficient as a pitcher with Koushuu and a male S/O? It may be just HC since the fics are more complicated :'v RI repeat, I hope I'm not being picky.

Notes: CW descriptive panic attack and lots of stuttering Recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. So, Koushuu might be a bit OOC? We've seen him comfort Asada, so i kind of tried to base it around that? Also, funny you should send this ask because this happened to me fairly recently so... ya, based on personal experience.

Word count: 883

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Something was wrong today, Okumura could feel it. Y/n wasn’t speaking up in class as much today, and when he did speak it was usually short answers. When he went on, sometimes his voice would break or turn into a whine, but it wasn’t constant. At lunch he’d gotten into a heated debate with Seto over the book they were reading for class, he’d seemed normal then, but when Okumura had approached him on the way to practice his voice had been croaky. Sometimes Y/n’s eyes would go glassy too, like he was about to cry, and his breathing would become choppy.

It came to a head when Kawamkami came by his room that night.

“Nori!” Miyuki greeted, “Want me to catch for you?”

“Sure, but first, can I talk to Okumura for a second?”

He looked up from his notebook to find Kawamaki still standing in the doorway. The upperclassman motioned for him to come outside, and he followed hesitantly.

Once the door was closed, Nori spoke again.

“Could you… go check on Y/n?”

“Is something wrong?”

“He’s crying, and… possibly having a panic attack. I figured since you two are close you might be able to help.”

Okumura nodded. “I will, thank you for telling me.”

“Ya, no problem. Here,” Nori handed over his room key, “so you can get in. I’ll hang out here so you can give it back.”

“Hm.”

The catcher jogged off towards Y/n’s room. It was quiet, but as he approached the door he could hear faint sobbing and hyperventilating.

As carefully as possible, he opened the door. It creaked, and Y/n curled in on himself to muffle the sounds. He was also clearly trying to calm his breath, which only resulted in fits of sharp inhales punctuated by the occasional snort. The lump on his bed was shaking heavily, so much so that the bed rattled against the wall with every sharp breath.

“Y/n?”

Okumura closed the door, returning the room to darkness.

“O-Oku-mura?” Y/n rolled onto his back, letting the catcher clearly see how each breath shook him.

“Nori-senpai came to get me-”

A soft whine cut him off before Y/n began gasping for breath again, letting out uneven sobs.

He kicked off his shoes and sat next to Y/n, finally being close enough to see his tear streaked cheeks in the dark room.

“Come here,” he whispered, helping Y/n sit up and pulling him into a hug. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Y/n sobbed. Okumura waited for him to continue after another fit of choked inhales. “I ca-can’t d-do any-anything.”

“That’s not true.”

“I know that.”

Y/n hiccuped again and pulled away from Okumura. The catcher let him go, knowing he was probably feeling a little claustrophobic.

“It just-” Another fit of sharp inhales and snorts as he tries to catch his breath. Okumura began to gently rub his back. “It’s just so- so effortl-less t-to the o-other-s. I me-mean… go-god I sou-sound li-like a-a di-ick.”

Y/n ran a hand down his face, then pushed his hair back. He was covered in sweat.

Okumura reached for the water bottle on the ground next to his bed and handed it over.

“Catch your breath.”

Carefully, Y/n took a few sips of water. His hands were shaking still but his breathing was more even and there were less hiccups.

“When I-I’m in the bullpen, next to Sawa-mura-se-enpai and Furuya-se-enpai, I feel so out o-of place. And I just… I started wondering why I was here and then Nori-senpai was here and-” Y/n’s breathing sped up again and he stumbled over another sob. It shook his body enough that he spilt water on himself, so Okumura took the bottle and put the cap back on. “I feel like such an ass,” he wailed.

“Hey,” Okumura grabbed Y/n’s hand, “this is hard, but you’re doing great. I love catching for you, and I’m not just saying that as your boyfriend. Yui says catching for you is fun too. You won’t be the best right away, not everyone is a freak who can carry four tires at the crack of dawn.” That made Y/n laugh. “You just need to get used to this. One step at a time, right?”

“One- One step at a- time.” Y/n leaned his forehead against Okumura’s shoulder and took a deep breath, letting it out in short bursts between hiccups. “Can I have more water?”

Okumura handed it over wordlessly.

He’d never really understood it, his mother had tried to explain that Y/n didn’t realize the effort he put in even though Okumura recognized he tried harder than most. When that effort wasn’t enough, Y/n felt like he wasn’t trying hard enough and didn’t feel like he could try any harder. His hard effort made things feel natural, and so being asked for effort felt daunting.

He still didn’t understand, but he didn’t have to know what to say. He’s always hated liars, and so he’ll tell him the truth. Hopefully, that’ll be enough.

“Thank you,” Y/n said softly.

“All I said was the truth.”

“Ya… but, still. Thanks for being here with me.”

[ssongsboo]

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❕ : gunplay

⟢ you’re in my world now .ᐟ

the room felt smaller with juhan’s presence dominating it, his sharp eyes fixated on you like you were his prey. the soft clink of the gun he spun around lazily sent a ripple of anticipation through your body. he smirked, the corners of his mouth curling in that infuriatingly confident way that made your breath hitch. juhan sat back in his chair, legs spread wide, his hungry gaze drinking you in as you stood before him.

"come here." he said, his voice low and rough. you obeyed, stepping into the space between his legs. he pulled you down, guiding you to straddle his lap, the hard press of metal grazing against your inner thigh as he tilted his head, watching for your reaction. “you trust me, don't you?" he murmured, the cold gun resting against the bare skin of your leg. "yes.” you whispered without hesitation, your voice breathless but steady. juhan’s smirk deepened, his fingers brushing against the side of your face. "good girl."

he raised the weapon and let the barrel trail over your lips, his eyes darkening as you parted them without hesitation. the smooth metal slid in just slightly, your tongue grazing the cool surface as your heart raced.

"you’re such a pretty little thing." he said, his free hand tracing down your spine. "so willing. so perfect."

the gun left your mouth with a soft, metallic scrape, and juhan’s hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head to meet his heated gaze. his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle, his control over you sending shivers down your spine.

with the gun now lowered, his other hand slid between your thighs, teasing and testing your limits as your body arched into him. the edge of the weapon returned, this time tracing higher, a deliberate and calculated movement that left you trembling.

"you’re mine," he growled, his voice heavy with possessive lust. "every inch of you belongs to me, isn’t that right, baby?" you didn’t even get the chance to respond before he lifted both of his hands off you, "now, turn around." he ordered, his tone sharp, almost mocking.

you obeyed without hesitation, your body trembling under his gaze. juhan tilted his head, examining you like you were nothing more than a plaything- something he could break if he wanted.

“let’s see just how much you can take." he sneered, pressing the cool metal barrel against your jaw. the gun traced a deliberate path down your body, the chill of the steel leaving goosebumps in its wake.

he let it linger between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror in front of you as he tilted it just enough to make you gasp.

"you’re shaking," he said with a cruel laugh, his free hand gripping your chin. "are you scared? or is it that excitement?"

"both…" you admitted breathlessly, your voice trembling but determined. "good," he growled, the smirk on his face widening into something far more sinister. "you should be scared. but you're too desperate for me to stop, aren't you?"

he didn't wait for a response. the gun pressed against you, the cold metal making you gasp as he pushed it just inside. your body tensed at the intrusion, and he chuckled darkly, his grip on your hip tightening as he held you in place.

"look at you," he hissed, his voice dripping with disdain and desire. "fucking filthy. letting me use you like this."

each movement was slow and calculated, the deliberate pace driving you to the edge of your sanity. his free hand slid up your body, his fingers wrapping around your throat with enough pressure to make your breath hitch.

"you belong to me," juhan practically growled. "every curve. every scream. every fucking breath. don’t you forget it."

the dangerous edge in his tone made your heart race, and yet you couldn't stop yourself from craving more, from leaning into the chaos he so effortlessly commanded.

juhan didn't stop- he never did when he was in this mood. his eyes were blazing with a hunger that threatened to consume you whole, his lips twisted into a smirk as he pressed the gun further, the cool steel a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body.

"you’re fucking soaking, aren't you? all for this." he hissed, his tone sharp, laced with condescension. he tilted the weapon, watching your body react to the unfamiliar intrusion, a cruel laugh escaping his lips.

"pathetic." he said, though the way his voice thickened betrayed just how much he was enjoying this. "you’d let me ruin you, wouldn't you? beg me to."

the barrel moved with precision, slow and deliberate, every twist and push a calculated assault on your senses. your gasps filled the room, each sound spurring him on as his hand tightened on your throat, grounding you in the overwhelming intensity.

"you’re so desperate," juhan continued, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "do you even know how nasty you look right now? letting me use this on you? letting me claim you like this?"

your fingers clawed at his wrist as the tension in your body built, and his smirk only deepened. "don’t you dare close your eyes," he ordered, his tone biting. "i want you to see how you fall apart for me. i want you to remember who made you like this."

the pressure of the gun was unrelenting, his movements alternating between teasing and merciless, pushing you closer to the edge. his free hand slid up your body, gripping your jaw tightly as he forced you to meet his gaze.

"you’re fucking mine." he snarled, his voice thick with possession. "every moan, every fucking ounce of pleasure- i own it. say it."

"i am yours, juhan." you gasped, the words spilling from your lips without hesitation. "damn right, you are." he growled, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising kiss as he pushed you further toward the edge, trembling beneath his touch. juhan pulled back just enough to watch his impact on you, his chest heaving with his own barely restrained desire.