#Nor would it be healthy for me to write it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

norikuna · 1 month ago

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(JUST MEET ME AT THE) APT! — gojo satoru minors dni. art by chitrartum on twt.

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (a) and let the show begin !

prologue. → your ex, that sleazy and no-good scumbag won't stop posting tacky mirror selfies on instagram, arm around his fellow cheater-in-crime. so, christmas eve finds you morose in a dodgy dive bar. why not tumble back into bed with that random, gorgeous stranger you just met?

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. never drive, no matter how little alcohol is in you folks!!! never!!! making out, creampiè, hooking up with a stranger, ovèrstimulation, mildly rough sèx, gojo won't tell you what his job is

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. apt — rosé & bruno mars

a/n. reader lowkey a hater, i love vanilla vodka eggnog </3 i said i was gonna post on 02/12 and i kept my word, literally rushed to finished this before my clinical exams in the cardiac ward 😭😭😭😭😭😭 hope y'all stay healthy. your future surgeons are writing gojo smut on tumblr.com

mp3. don't you want me like i want you, baby? don't you need me like i need you now? sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy. all you gotta do is meet me at the apartment (아파트) !

you think your friends would kill you if they knew this was how you were spending christmas eve. not at some glittering holiday party, nor tucked away in a snow-dusted cabin. but here, holed up in a dimly lit bar with an atmosphere so questionable it should come with a warning label alongside a health and safety audit.

the place had charm, if your definition of charm included scuffed floors, a jukebox stuck on 'last christmas' and a string of blinking lights that looked like they'd been thrown at the walls rather than hung. still, you'd swiped a couple of minty candy canes from a jar near the door, which felt like a win.

your phone sat resolutely off in your bag. self-preservation. no instagram, and no tacky mirror selfies from your scumbag ex with the same smirk he'd worn a month ago when you caught him cheating. with someone who had always been 'just a friend, babe!' you weren't keen to let that ruin the rest of the night, though if you were being honest, you had already let it ruin a good chunk of the month.

"another christmas vodka...sour, please," you squint at the messy chalkboard above the bar, where the christmas specials were scrawled in what would barely pass for handwriting.

the bartender gave a single, surly nod. he looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but here, preferably somewhere free of customers nursing post-breakup bitterness like a fine wine.

and so, you found yourself staring at the tall glass now sitting in front of you, studying the rosemary sprig that swayed lazily in the translucent red liquid. a few cranberries bobbed among the ice cubes like they were on some tiny festive raft.

"woah, that one's way too strong for me."

the voice interrupts your private session of wallowing. you turn your head, slowly, to take in the culprit. he-who-hath-disturbed-the-peace. a man sitting close enough to be annoying, but not close enough to invade your personal space.

it takes you a moment to process the stranger, mostly because of the brain freeze from your ill-timed gulp.

"i mean, it's not bad," you shrug, hoping to sound neutral enough that he leaves you be. but then because you just can't leave well enough alone, you gesture at the specials board, "better than...that, at least."

you jab a finger at the chalk-scrawled abomination: vanilla & peppermint vodka eggnog.

the man frowns, a sharp but somehow charming movement that's overshadowed by the dim lights, "hey, i ordered that one."

you blink like a startled bovine, before breaking into a laugh, "my bad. i'm sure it's really fuckin' delicious."

the stranger chuckles too, a soft and low sound that seems more genuine that it has any right to be, "i hope so. otherwise, this is gonna be a long night."

the man finally shifts, casting aside the dim shadows that lay over him, into the blinking string lights. broad shoulders framed by a dark, tailored jacket that hugs him like a second skin. his hair, startlingly white, was pushed back by — wait, was that a blindfold?

you stare longer than you should have, trying to piece the odd sight together. a cosplay? a k-pop idol wannabe, hoping to get recruited for the next bts tour? perhaps, he was blind, hard of sight? you start to open your mouth, wondering how to phrase the intrusive and awkward questions, but he beats you to it.

"i can see you just fine, y'know," he says, his tone laced with amusement.

your cheeks burn at the realisation that he's caught you gawking shamelessly. so you quickly turn back to your drink, suddenly very interested in the cranberries floating in the glass.

the bartender returns, sliding the stranger's drink onto the counter with an audible clink. it was the most obnoxious cocktail that you'd ever seen. a martini glass filled with frothy, pale liquid and crowned with a cinnamon stick that jutted out like the mast of some ridiculous holiday ship.

you watch, mildly horrified, as the man picks up the glass and downs half of it in one confident gulp. he sets it down a satisfied sigh, and a smack of his glossy lips, and you wrinkle your nose involuntarily at the sight.

"i swear it's good," he says with a laugh, catching your expression. his grin is wide, playful. and you find yourself smiling back despite your sour, gloomy mood.

he has a nice smile, you note. not forced nor smug, but genuine. framed by pale pink lips that curl up in an easy, natural way. it was strange though, to look at someone without seeing their eyes.

"i'm gojo, by the way," he offers, his voice smooth and lightly amused once more, as if he'd caught you studying him again.

your gaze drops to his hands, long and slender, tracing the rim of the martini glass. something about the way they move — elegant and deliberate, hold your attention a moment too long for propriety. you quickly snap your focus back to his face, "what brings you here, gojo?"

gojo shrugs, and you can almost imagine him rolling his eyes beneath the blindfold, though you doubt his ire is directed at you, "work, i guess. or maybe i just got bored of going to work."

"they're working you hard, yeah?" you ask, trying for sympathy. employers loved squeezing their workers dry during the holidays. your own boss was proof enough of that, running the office like a sweatshop for santa's unpaid elf labour.

"something like that," gojo says with a scoff, the corners of his mouth quirking up again, "what about you? what brings you here? it's christmas eve, isn't it?"

you sigh, the weight of gauche embarrassment suddenly pressing down as the words spill out before you can stop them, "my ex-boyfriend cheated on me."

gojo's lip curls, the kind of expression that balances perfectly between pity and disgust, "that sucks," he offers. profound and wise, you have to agree as he continues, "you jus' find out or something?"

the question makes you cheeks heat, and you fiddle with the edge of your drink, "no, i've known all month." you gesture vaguely towards your purse, where your phone sat like an unsealed pandora's box, "but he posted...on instagram. and stuff. i'm still, y'know, getting over it."

gojo makes a thoughtful clicking noise with his tongue, "ah, see, i don't do social media. but that sounds rough."

you let out a weak huff, "yeah, well...now i just feel like a loser. my friends told me to go out and have fun, and here i am..." you trail off, downing the rest of your cranberry vodka in a single, decisive gulp. the sting hits your throat, sharp and sour, and you grimace at the burn.

gojo frowns slightly, leaning in just enough that you can hear how his voice softens, "i don't think you're a loser." the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, pulling your gaze back to him, "it's fair to wallow."

his words hang in the air, and you find yourself smiling, albeit thinly, "that's...really nice of you to say."

gojo hums thoughtfully, "i meant it, i promise. but i can't exactly say i've been there, never really dated anyone."

you blink, openly gaping at the man, "really? you're joking."

it was hard to wrap your head around that. even with the odd blindfold, everything about him screamed 'pounce-worthy'. the broad frame, the charming smile, the striking white hair that looked like it belonged in a kérastase commercial.

gojo laughs at your incredulous expression, "same old work and stuff," he explains with a casual shrug. then his grin fades, tone shifting just enough for you wonder why that feels as though the clouds have covered the light of the moon outside, "always got in the way."

"at least you never had to deal with a breakup," you offer, trying to find some weak, silver lining.

gojo frowns, his pale complexion now tinged with a faint red flush that even the dim bar lights couldn't disguise. was he really that much of a lightweight, or was the eggnog's amaretto content deceptively boozy?

he sighs dramatically, "a friend once left me outside a kfc in shinjuku. then he became a murderer and a cult leader. that felt like a breakup."

"huh," you murmur, staring at the man with a mixture of amusement and faint alarm, wondering if you'd seen any cult leaders on the evening news lately. no, nothing save for the occasional incorrect weather report, a friendly good-looking priest running some scam association, and news reports about an octopus that could predict the lottery, "that's - well, okay..."

you couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not, but gojo seems to shake himself free of the odd reverie. he's running his hand through his shock of white hair, and his grin has returned, slower and a touch softer, "still, your ex must've been crazy. letting go of a pretty girl like you?"

the words land with surprising weight, considering they come from a stranger in a sleazy bar, but it leaves you momentarily stunned. you can feel a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart doing an embarrassing little flip before you manage to get a grip on yourself.

"wow," you laugh, feigning composure as you sip the last remnants of your drink, "smooth."

gojo's smile is wider now, "hah, i call it like i see it," and his lips now curl upwards as he leans in, "and i'm serious. if i had someone like you..."

you laugh again, but this time it's far more unsteady. you wonder if the cranberry vodka is playing with your head, "big words for someone who's never dated. should i be impressed, gojo?"

gojo's chuckle is a deep sound that vibrates in his chest, "i know a good thing when i see it. you don' need to date to know what you want. and i think i want you."

your stomach does a little flip, and you feel all rationality being pounded out of you just from staring at his unfairly gorgeous hands rest on sturdy thighs, "you do flattery well, i'll give you that."

"oh, i don't know about that," gojo says, fiddling with the stem of his glass, "but what'dya say we get out of here? how about my place?"

you blink slowly, and you're aware that your heart (and...nether regions) have already composed an answer before your mind has, "what if you're a serial killer? you're not about to silent night, deadly night me, are you? you haven't killed someone have you?"

for a moment, the man stills but then gojo leans back, "smart girl. asking the right questions. but no, i can at least promise that i'm not a criminal."

you hesitate just for a beat, the words lingering on your tongue, before you let out a breath and shrug, "fine. where's your place?"

"azabu," gojo replies without missing a beat, his tone smooth, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

you gape once more, blinking as you try to process the information. azabu? as in tokyo's ritziest neighbourhood, where a one-bedroom apartment could cost you more than most people's yearly salary? the kind of place where the floors are made of marble, and everyone's shoes are more expensive than your entire wardrobe?

gojo, ridiculously handsome despite looking like a circus runaway, too charming for his own good, and not the type you'd expect to find in a cheap downtown dive bar. definitely not on a christmas eve, at least.

for a split second, you wonder how a man like him even ended up in a place like this. maybe it's some kind of self-imposed penance. or he likes to keep things low-key when he's pretending not to be rich? maybe he's looking to cosplay a succession character?

whatever it is, it's working. not only does gojo have a face carved from marble, now you've got a solid ticket into seeing what a neighbourhood for the top one percent really looks like beyond it's wealthy exterior. maybe, you'll bring back a souvenir.

you wonder whether there's a group of small emotions standing around inside your head, inside-out style. glaring at you as if you're incapable of making good and rational decisions.

well fuck that, you gather yourself and shrug off the small wave of nerves, and loop your purse strap around your finger, "alright," you say, "let's get out of here then."

you don't miss at how the adam apple of gojo's throat bobs for a second, before he downs the rest of his drink in one go, "let's get outta here then."

you follow him out into the cold, your breath fogging in front of you as you try to focus, but the man is tall, like ridiculously so. but when you reach the curb, he turns to face you again, a frown marring his face.

"so, i have a small confession."

i changed my mind and i find you repulsive.

i was paid by your ex to do this, and now i've done enough to get my money.

i'm a serial killer.

you don't know which possibility is worse, "huh, a confession? what is it now?"

gojo chuckles, lifting a hand to the back of his neck, as though he's about to spill a dark secret into the night air, "i don't have a car."

"you've got to me kidding me. how'd you even get down here?"

gojo shrugs, a casual and almost lazy movement. and you feel your gaze lingering on his shoulders. broad, impossibly wide, the dark jacket hugging him in all the right places, like it was tailor-made to showcase just how much he filled it out.

"someone dropped me off. ages ago," like it was the most normal and rational explanation in the world.

your own laugh is short, a little disbelieving, but you pull your silver keys from your purse, "well, i guess i'll have to drive then. but what would you have done if i hadn't been here to save the day?"

gojo steps to the side, opening your own car door for you with a small flourish and exaggerated bow that makes your heart jolt again, "probably teleport back home. maybe fly, since the skies look clear."

what a weird guy. hot, but weird. he seems like the type to dress up with a fake beard and show up as gandalf at the next lord of the rings fan convention.

in the driver's seat beside him, you catch yourself staring too long. your gaze slipping over a model's jawline, the white of his hair being held up by the blindfold. even his vaguely expensive scent is disorienting, pleasant like pine and blackcurrant. but it's also hard not to be amused when he's furrowing teeth into plush pink lips out of concentration, pressing an address into your cracked gps screen.

well, merry christmas to you.

gojo's place is well...how do you say this? gorgeous doesn't quite begin to cover it. he leads you into the building with the ease of someone who knows every inch of it, tossing a casual smile over his shoulder as he swipes a key card to unlock the private elevator, "i tend to move around a bit. or stay in different places. keeps life exciting, don't you think?"

you step into the elevator alongside him, the polished mirrors reflecting the soft glow of gold accents and sleek, modern lines. his hand hovers over the control panel before he presses the button for the top floor. of course, it's the penthouse.

"you move around a lot?" you ask, arching an eyebrow, "what, like a restless billionaire or something?"

gojo smiles, leaning casually against the steel as the elevator begins its smooth ascent, "now you're exaggerating."

the elevator finally dings, and gojo steps aside, offering an exaggerated bow as he gestures for you to exit, "after you, my fair maiden."

you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of it, but there's something so endearing and charming about how he pulls it off, especially when paired with the unfair symmetry of his face.

floor to ceiling windows dominate the far wall, revealing a jaw dropping panorama of tokyo's skyline. the city stretches out in a glittering sea of lights, with the tokyo tower glowing a golden exclamation point against the velvet night sky. the interior is just as impressive, with polished wood floors that gleam in the warm light and a glass dining table that sits beneath a sculptural chandelier. that same faint scent of blackberry and pine lingers in the air, heady almost.

behind you, gojo strolls with an easy and languid grace, tossing his jacket onto an artisan leather armchair. beneath it, his sky blue dress shirt clings just right and rolled up to reveal forearms faintly dusted with pale hair. you think you've momentarily forgotten how words work, and you avert your gaze quickly. though not before catching the faint smile on his lips.

"not bad, huh?" gojo says, heading to the open kitchen as though he's unaware of the effect he's having on a rational and sensible mind such as yourself, "it's no dive bar, but i'll do."

you shake your head, bewildered. trying to process how someone you met in a dingy bar could live somewhere that looks like it belongs in architectural digest. even down to the odd, ancient looking pieces that scatter the wide living room. weird looking artifacts of some sort. maybe he's also a collector? go figure.

"not bad?" you repeat, incredulous, "gojo, this place is incredible."

the man laughs, opening a sleek fridge to grab a bottle of water, "i have good taste," he says with mock modesty, his tone teasing as long fingers twist off the cap, "and a thing for gorgeous views. though, between you and me, i'm not great with heights. ironic, i suppose. paying a fortune for a view i'd rather not get too close to."

he waves a hand vaguely towards the windows, the blindfold still firmly in place.

"so, what's the deal? did you win the lottery, or inherit a fortune. or are you some kinda secret agent who moonlights as a barfly?"

gojo lifts the bottle in mock toast, "let's just say i'm very good at what i do."

you arch a brow, crossing your arms and ignoring the warm flush creeping up your neck, "and what exactly is that?"

"oh, you know. standard stuff. international intrigue, thwarting evil creatures. i even saved a kitten from a tree the other day."

"right, because nothing screams the next member of the avengers like eggnog in a seedy bar."

gojo leans casually against the counter, "even the avengers need a holiday drink now and then. don't knock it." but then he gestures towards the sleek couch, "wait, you can make yourself comfortable, y'know. i'd hate for my guest to think i'm a terrible host."

"terrible host? no, but a mystery man —"

before you can finish, your foot catches on something hard, and you stumble forward with an undignified yelp. gojo reacts instantly, how does he move that fast, and his arm is shooting out to steady you. but glorious gravity and magnificent momentum has other plans.

both of you crash onto the couch, and you find yourself sprawled unceremoniously across his lap. gojo's laugh rumbles low in his chest, and you can feel the warmth of it underneath your palms as you steady yourself, "well, that's one way to get comfortable," he murmurs, voice teasing as his large hand lingers lightly on the curve of your waist.

you prop yourself up slightly, cheeks burning, and glance back at the offending object. your brows knit together when you spot what looks suspiciously like a katana gleaming under the soft light.

"did i just trip on a — hey, what the hell is that?"

gojo interrupts, smoothly extending a long leg to nudge that suspicious object under the nearby coffee table before you can finish, "nothing important," he says breezily, the motion so quick you almost think you imagined it.

his focus shifts back to you, almost guilty, but his fingers are pressing divots into the fabric of your top, "now, where were we? hi."

you blink, caught off guard by how strange it is to feel the searing heat of someone's gaze underneath a blindfold, impossibly intent, "hi yourself," you manage.

for a moment, neither you nor the gorgeous man under you move, and the world feels strangely airless.

but your fingers twitch against the fine linen of his shirt. and before you can second-guess yourself, you reach your hand up to the edge of the silk fabric over his face and you ask, "can i take this off?"

gojo tilts his head, like it's a genuine consideration and you catch the faintest flicker of hesitation. it's fleeting, replaced by a crooked smile as he nods, "go ahead, sweetheart."

your hand rests lightly on the silk, hesitant for only a second before tracing its way to the back of his head. your fingers brush through impossibly soft strands of white hair, and his breath hitches when you find the knot tied neatly to the base of his skull.

you wonder what manner of man gojo is, letting himself be stitched undone by a stranger. but with care, you undo the knot, working deftly and clutching the fabric as you pull the blindfold away.

the blindfold slips free, and for a moment, you're certain you've forgotten how to breathe. bright, piercing blue eyes. framed by thick white lashes blink up at you. the intensity of such an unearthly gaze is softened by something more vulnerable, almost shy. nervous even.

"wow," you murmur without thinking, the word spilling out as gojo's expression shifts, an unguarded openness replacing the playful smirk that you've seen all evening.

your earlier assessment echoes in your mind: k-pop reject wannabe. the recent memory now feels like quite the injustice, a careless slight against a face that defies easy description. each detail of his face is striking, as if some divine hand had taken special care to sculpt him from the fabric of time and space itself.

gojo seems to sense your analysis, and you're sure that he's parted his lips to speak, but whatever he was about to say falters. that faint flush, pale-red like vermillion watercolour bleeding across a canvas, blooms across his cheeks. gojo's hazy gaze flickers for a second, and it sends a thrill through you. he's affected by this, by you.

it's hard to resist the slow smile that curves your lips, light and playful if only to mask the way your own heart is racing, "are you seriously shy now, gojo?"

gojo's expression shifts again almost immediately, as if that subtle invulnerability has been replaced by something sharper, almost indignant. he sits up a little straighter, the movement making you acutely aware of how the hard planes of his body feel beneath you.

"shy? no," gojo says, his voice steady but edged with some need to defend his honour, "i just...don't usually do this. that's all."

there's a sincerity in his words, an almost begrudging honesty that takes you by surprise. you tilt your head, as your murmur, "i don't either."

before you can second-guess yourself, you tilt your head down. pressing your lips to gojo's in a featherlight kiss. his taste is intoxicating, honey and sweet grapes mingling with a hint of that ridiculous vanilla drink from earlier. you pull back almost as quickly as you leaned in, testing the waters.

but your breath catches when you see that the blue of his eyes has deepened, darkened. and his lips, pink-blush and slightly parted, form a quiet and stunned oh!

"cool," gojo manages, his voice rougher than you expected, and you bite back a laugh as you watch him swallow hard.

"huh, cool?" you echo, your amusement bubbling over, "that's it? that's all you've got?"

gojo's grip on your waist tightens, and his hands are now splayed over your spine. anchoring you to him, as his mouth curves into something sly, though his flushed cheeks betray his composure, "compliments to the chef?"

you shift slightly, pressing more of your weight firmly into his lap. though not yet close enough to situate yourself over his groin, delighting in the way gojo's blush spreads down his neck, staining his skin a shade reminiscent of ripe berries swirling in cream.

you can feel gojo's attention as much as you can see it, how his own gaze lingers, deliberate and unhurried. taking you like a masterpiece that deserves more than a cursory glance. the hand that had been steady on your back shifts, his fingers threading through your hair. he watches as the strands slip and fall beneath his touch.

"thought you said you wanted me, gojo," you tease, though you're certain your voice is betraying the way your pulse is doing its best impression of the macarena in your jugular, "are y'gonna do something or not?"

gojo's gaze snaps back to you, a flicker of something far more intense passing through those impossibly blue eyes. full of hunger, need even. the hand in your hair slides away, only to settle at your jaw. it's warm and steady, his thumb brushing slightly over the plush of your bottom lip.

"i do want you," gojo says, his voice low and steady and maddeningly genuine, "want you to kiss me again. and again. as many times as you want until i forget my own name."

"gojo —"

"satoru," he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly, stripped of any previous swagger. it's unsteady and raw, affected in a way that excites you. sends a dark heat curling low between your thighs, "you can call me that."

"satoru," you repeat softly, letting the syllables fall from your lips, unfurling in the most hazy way.

something within the man shifts. his hand tightens on your waist, dragging you closer in a way that punches the air from your lungs. right over -

oh. the thick, curve of his erection straining against slacks that probably cost more than your monthly salary. it's deliberate, almost desparate at how the invisible thread snapped inside him. unravelled the careful composure he's been clinging to until now.

"go on," gojo murmurs, his voice dark with need, "kiss me again, please."

you lean closer, eyes flickering to his lips, and your pulse roaring in your ears, "who would i be to deny you any wish, satoru?" the words come out more reverent that you'd expected, as if your entire world has been tilted off its axis.

and then you kiss him, hard. desparate. as if his lips are your birthright, a homeland to claim. and gojo's kissing you back, carrying a sweetness that seems both foreign and familiar. in an instant, the weight of another man, a dreary haze in your past, vanishes. gojo is suddenly everything you didn't know you needed, vibrant and electrifying.

"let me know if it's too much," gojo breathes against your lips, his voice shaky as if he's trying to tether himself to the earth. but your kiss deepens, frantic and unrestrained. his mouth moves against yours with a hunger that sends sparks down your spine, and you suddenly realise you quite like the taste of vanilla when it's dripping from his open kisses.

you pull away, for every human needs air. but the sight before you has you clenching your thighs desperately around the bulge where you sit atop. gojo's gaze is heavy, full of that desparate longing that makes your chest ache. his lips are swollen, a soft cherry hue from your kisses. and strands of white hair fall over his blue eyes.

"look what you've done to me, fuck. miss you already," gojo murmurs, and before you can respond, he surges forward, hands pressing against your face with the intensity of a storm. one hand reaches to find the nape of your neck, letting you surrender to the heat of this touch.

you crave more, so much more from gojo, who's taking you in like you're his last breath, his final indulgance. it's as if he's found a new devotion in you, ready to worship you at the alter of your false godhood. but before you can part your mouth to tell him exactly what you and where, gojo's hands are already sneaking under your top, brushing against the trembling skin of your torso.

his teeth are biting down on your lip, leaving you dizzy. and gasping, and so damp in your panties as the fabric of your top is peeled away, and you're left shivering, fighting against the cold of the december air. you find yourself pressing harder into the warmth of his chest, letting the swell of your chest press flat against him.

"shoulda' turned the heat on before we came in," gojo murmurs, breathless as his lips hover a mere centimetre away from yours, "got nothin' to worry about, sweetheart. i'll keep you warm."

"didn't t-think i'd spend christmas eve like this," you gasp, your head lolling to the side as gojo presses open-mouthed kisses to the soft arc of your neck, sensitive even to the cool air.

"no?" gojo's reply is breathy, almost frantic as if he's fumbling in the heat of the moment and has little grasp over the words tumbling out of his mouth, "neither did i. but this? b-better than any fuckin' mission they could've sent me on."

you cock your head, feeling the heat of his clothed cock underneath your thighs, "m-mission, huh? what are you talking about - mmph!" but the rest of the question never escapes your lips for it's swallowed up by another one of gojo's candied kisses.

his rough hands work deftly, finding the clasp of your bra with ease. a pretty crimson thing, almost sheer as it caught the light. and in the centre, a tiny satin bow sat like the final touch on a perfectly wrapped gift. you had only worn it half-heartedly earlier in the morning, some forced christmas cheer for your dreary day ahead.

the look on gojo's face was anything but composed, staring at your cupped tits like you'd knocked the air out of him and his chest rose and fall as though he were remembering how to breathe. in a single fluid motion, your bra is unhooked. the faint metallic click barely audible over the pounding in your chest and he's tossing it aside with a casual flick, his focus entirely on you.

you find yourself mesmerised by his eyes, those swirling pools of blue that seem to have stolen fragments of the sky itself, clouds brushed into cerulean depths with strokes of syrupy smoothness. they're breathtaking, but the thought shatters as gojo's canines graze the flesh of your breasts, a sharp and teasing nip that pulls a gasp from your lips. leaves you rocking sharply against his erection, making him throw his head back, ragged.

the playful string blooms into a flush of heat, and gojo's at it again, his mouth working to leave faint red marks in its wake. you squeal, half in surprise and half in helpless laughter (and entirely in a lusty haze) but gojo only pulls back enough to murmur, "what? can't help myself."

but then he peers at you abruptly, his lips parted as he catches his breath, "wait. do you wanna —?" and gojo tilts his snowy hair towards the shadowy doorway that leads out of the living room, the implication clear even through his panting.

you nod, breathless, "yeah, jus' help me up."

without hesitation, a strong arm slides around your waist, and before you know it, you're being swept into a semi-bridal carry, and your head is resting against the fabric of his dress shirt. not a bad feeling, one you could get used to.

at the doorway, gojo lets out a low 'shit!', nudging the door open with his foot. the faint sound of clattering follows as he kicks something out of the way. you glance down from your entirely too comfortable vantage point, spotting a smattering of cheap tinsel, all glittering in metallic silver and gold, tangled with round baubles that glisten faintly under the dim light.

some have little smears of glue, and uneven glitter patches, as if crafted by unsteady hands, but with earnest effort.

"you big on christmas or something?" you tease, delighting in how the tips of his ears light up like nose of a famous reindeer.

gojo freezes for a moment, almost sheepish as he clears a path, clearly trying to look as macho as possible as he gingerly pushes aside a string of green lights, "made those for my students," he mutters, "thought they'd like them in the classroom tomorrow."

your laugh grows louder, and gojo's brows furrow, his tone growing defensive, "it's a nice surprise for the classroom!"

"i'm not making fun of you!" you insist, leaning up to press a gentle, soothing kiss to the hollow of his collarbone, "it's sweet. i think it's really nice, actually. wait, you're a teacher?"

gojo's mouth quirks up in a faint smile, "something like that," he says cryptically, finally clearing a decent and hazard-free path into a sleek, and clean bedroom. it's all modern space, all clean lines in shades of cream and white, and navy.

gojo sets you down gently, and the plush fabric cradles you as your back lands on fresh linen. and for a quiet, tender moment, you're both caught in the stillness. gojo kneels at the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on each of your thighs as if he's anchoring himself there.

his gaze is steady, content, maybe even adoring in a way that feels too intimate for someone who you barely know. there's a warmth in his expression, like he's savouring the sight of you, searching for something — and he's found exactly what he's hoped for.

almost without thinking, you lift a hand, cupping the sides of his face. his skin is warm beneath your palm, soft with the faintest hint of pale stubble that seems to fade into his skin. the moment your hands makes contact, gojo leans into your touch instinctively, his white lashes fluttering closed.

"hey, 'toru," you murmur softly, "y'still with me?"

gojo's eyes snap open at the sound of that, sharp and bright, as if the nickname itself has sparked a challenge in him. a low and almost frustrated sound escapes from the back of his throat, and he presses a feather-light kiss to the inside of your knee.

you don't miss at how his teeth sink into his bottom lip again, worrying and working the plush flesh like he's trying to steady himself. spreading your weeping thighs aside, as his gaze is fixed on something. intense, unwavering. the sheer focus of it making heat creep up your neck.

at how he must be staring hungrily at damp, sheer red fabric that clings to the outline of your cunt. at how it must shimmer almost translucently now, the sticky slick of your arousal enhancing the gloss, making your panties glisten under the light.

you're feeling an unfamiliar kind of shy under the weight of his attention, at how he must see how the fabric clings closely to your puffy, swollen folds — the delicate weave exposing the shape of your taut pussy, practically weeping for his touch.

you needn't have asked, for gojo was already diving into deliver.

he's gliding his index finger over your dripping pussy, letting the tangy syrup sink onto his fingers, leaning in to press a sweet, almost innocent kiss to your clothed cunt, "she seems desperate for me, don'tcha think, heh?"

the sound of the fabric ripping is sharp and wet, a squelching and almost fleshy tone, a sound that's both soft and sharp to the blood rushing between your ears. a strained tear of your beautiful panties, leaving cool air to gently leave a kiss of its own upon your cunt.

you gape at him, a bit too stunned to find coherent words, "hey, what the f-fuck! those were like super expensive!"

gojo rolls his eyes, the kind of look that has a bit too much attitude for someone who's practically begging on his knees for a taste of you, "don't get all huffy on me, sweetheart. 'm gonna buy you more, is tha' alright?"

"i'll r-remember that, satoru," you murmur, giving a sharp tug at his white strands, "you gon' have to give me your number now."

gojo shudders, the muscles in his back rippling underneath his tight shirt, "was already gonna," and he's back to pressing soft, kitten licks to your now exposed folds, small circles over your throbbing clit.

you buck your canting hips closer to the heat of his mouth, to where the pink tip of his teasing tongue peeks out of a pretty mouth, "satoru, c'mon. can't you just, fuck—"

you sharply cry out as he presses his mouth forward, a sudden surge of heat jolting through you. burying himself deep, his nose brushing against the sweet, syrup that coats your pussy, and the rhythmic, wet movements of his tongue send shivers through your entire being.

"mhm, jus' as sweet as you look, baby," gojo gasps, swirling and flicking his tongue, teasing you with every deliberate patter of the muscle near your winking entrance. so messy, slick and you're not sure where he ends and you begin as it all glides together carnally.

gojo seems languidly tipsy, just from munching through the gloss of your cunt, far more intoxicated from your taste than any cheap christmas liquor. he alternates between pushing his tongue past the ring of your tight walls, and then wrapping his lips around the searing pulse of your clit, leaving your hips shaking and dragging over his mouth, smearing yourself over his chin.

you're fisting delicate white locks with fierce urgency, and he hisses and then chuckles into your pussy, "tch! ease up there for me, yeah? jus' move your hips like you were doin' before," and you comply, angling yourself better so he can flatten his tongue against your folds, jaw grinding deeper into you "hah, yeah, just like that."

"taking good care of you though, aren't i? wait, say it. say that 'm making you feel good," and he's bullying a long finger into your gummy walls, clingy and sopping, "say 'm making you feel better than a-anyone ever has," and you just mewl as your arousal must surely be dripping down his forearms, staining the cuffed sleeve of his shirt as he takes your sweet juices down his throat.

there's stars beginning to twinkle at the edge of your vision, and you know you must be close, for your heart is practically dancing a heavy beat against your ribcage, and you suddenly push his mouth away, watching as a clear strand of spit or your slick forms a taut bridge between his mouth and your folds.

"w-wait, satoru, s-stop."

gojo's head lifts, eyes blinking as if coming out of a faze. but then, like a switch, something sharp flickers behind his gaze and concern floods in. his thin brows furrow slightly, glossy lips parting as he reaches out, as if to steady your hips, "you okay, sweetheart? what's wrong?"

your heart stutters, pounding so loudly you're sure he can hear it. you try to steady your breathing, but the tremour in your fingertips betray you as they gently slide through your hair, the silky strands tangling around your hand.

"nothin' wrong, 'toru. but i was gonna cum," and gojo's face, still flushed and soft with arousal, splits into a shy, amused grin.

"hah, i know. that's what i wanted," he's close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath hitting your aching cunt, but you shake your head again.

"feels unfair, wanna see you too. wan' you to cum in me,"

you watch, almost in awe, as a low and guttural sound escapes gojo satoru, raw and unfiltered. gojo runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes dark with something dangerously close to hunger.

"you sure?" and his voice is hoarse, unsure despite his roaming gaze. you nod, your hands digging into his shoulder, tugging at the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, desparate to feel the warmth of his skin underneath.

his shaky laugh of disbelief only makes you more aroused, whining for him to hurry up, and before you know it, he's standing up, towering over your boneless form on the sheets.

"how could i deny you anything?" he murmurs, echoing your earlier words. gojo's hands reach for the hem, the fabric shifting as he pulls it over his head, revealing a milky expanse of toned skin, smooth and taut over a set of abs that should easily land him on a gq list.

his waist is slender, defined in all the right places, and the soft taper of muscles make your breath catch. but the soft white trail of hair that reaches under his waistband makes your cunt clench.

"y'seem happy with the view, don'tcha?" gojo's voice is teasing, the cocky smirk tugging at his lips, but you can hear the impatience threading his tone now too. he's not as in control as he lets on, his hands now making quick work of his belt, leaving your mouth dry when he finally pushes his black boxers down.

you should have known that his cock would be as pretty and unfairly gorgeous as the rest of him. he's circling the strawberry-red tip, glowering and throbbing, right over your gathered slick, coating it and smacking the mushroom head in a thwack! over your poor clit, leaving you jolting as he laughs and leans down to kiss you sweetly once more.

"jus' look at me, yeah?" his drawl is slow, lazy and so ruined. at the first inch of his throbbing cock that slips through your walls, he looks utterly undone. a mess of sharp edges softened by something far more primal and raw.

gojo's head tips back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as the moonlight cascades over you, "hey, sweetheart, 's not too much, yeah?"

hazy blue eyes bore into you, and for a brief moment, in the time it takes for the lightning to strike the earth, you swear that his eyes glow. almost radiant and jewel-like, with cerulean fractals shimmering as if they're emitting life of their own. perhaps its simply the electrifying stretch of inches that's rendering you to hallucinate, whining as your nails find purchase in milky skin and rippling shoulders.

"i-it's big, 'toru," you pant, feeling him almost shudder at the clipped name again, as he grips the base of his cock to bully the final inch in, sighing in contentment as he finally bottoms out, with a wet pop!

gojo looks feral like this, heaving a breath through his mouth as though the air is being taken from him from every second he spends stretching you out on his fat shaft, "hah, 'm glad, i'm so glad i met you tonight, sweetheart. fuck, fuck, y'feel i-incredible."

he's pushing your thighs further back, running his hands over the plush skin, leaving bruising red prints that won't disappear tomorrow as you moan, wanton into his open mouth, letting gojo run his lips down your jaw and into the curve of your neck.

you're practically now folded in half under the bulk of his weight, feeling stars collide in absolutely astrophysical ways, impaled further on the long and thick length of his cock, "in so deep, s-satoru."

seems that gojo is a man of little mercy, for he seems only all the more invigorated by your squeals, drawing his torso back to watch the hypnotic smack of skin on skin, of your slick and creamy froth creating fresh rings over his pistoning cock.

he's entirely out of control, as you feel your body go limp from the pleasure shooting through every nerve and pore.

depraved.

you don't realise you might have let that slip out loud, so dizzy in your cockdrunk haze because gojo's suddenly ramming himself roughly in you, as though he was desperate to have his cock kiss your cervix, to feel for every divot and nook of your cunt's walls.

"d-depraved, hah. people call me, fuck, p-people call me a lotta things, sweetheart," and gojo's so good with it, letting your pussy have not even one moment to take reprieve, having you feel each vein and bulge of his cock, "but depraved is n-new."

the hand that was dancing over your thighs flies to your swollen, aching clit. practically glistening for his attention, and his attention you did receive, "right, t-there! 'toru, mmph!" you're trying to splay your legs wider, giving his quick hand more room to swirl tight circles where you needed him most.

your double-vision gaze lingers on the ripple of his muscles, the way his arms flex and shift as he seems intent on angling you just right for him to drill his cock over and over, at some freakish and feverish pace, "y'so good, gojo," you purr, and your nails curl against his arms, pressing just enough to leave tiny crescents in his skin, the faint dampness of his exertion clinging to him, "s-so strong!"

something shifts. the glow is back, electric blue flooding his eyes like crackling storm clouds. it's almost unnerving, this unearthly brightness, as if he's some ancient god wrapped up in human skin, and you've just stumbled into a divine revelation.

gojo stills for the briefest moment, the thick head of his cock snagging on your puffy folds as he draws himself almost entirely out. the absence of motion makes you whine, an airy and impatient sound escaping your throat. that hesitation feels like a tease, like a string that's been pulled so taut, before he finally dives forward, capturing your mouth in a messy, heated kiss. sloppy in its disregard.

"s-so strong, huh?" gojo's voice is rough, shaky, as though he's trying to centre himself but your tight pussy holds him in hypnotic sway, "y-you think so? think i'm the strongest?" his lips brush yours as he speaks, and there's something almost boyish and charming in the way that he seems to be fishing for a compliment, despite the low heat in his voice.

you pull back from his wet, spit-stringed lips. just enough to wrap your hands around his neck and push him closer, deeper into you as he gutturally groans, "if i s-say yes, are y'gonna keep showing off?"

gojo's laugh is short, breathless, "y-yeah, wanna see?"

he makes quick work of pushing himself back into you, pumping himself so far in that your slick must be painting and sopping the white hairs at the base of his cock almost translucent, "o-oh my god, 'toru, fuck, oh my god!" the stretch has your head spinning, as if the skies are parting above you, and you're melodramatically left to see the light of divinity as gojo bucks his hips harshly into you. as if he's too far gone, needs to prove himself to you with a good fuck.

"you h-have to say it," gojo stutters, his words tumbling out so quickly, like rough gravel, "say it, fuck, c'mon. say i'm — say i'm the s-strongest. you have to, hnghh, god. please, jus' agree, okay?" his voice is cracking, that cocky veneer entirely shattered under the weight of his rambling desperation as he practically rummages through your sopping insides, "y-you feel it right, i mean, you can feel me — i mean."

a high whine escapes your throat as his pace becomes almost olympian, and you wonder faintly how you haven't managed to sprain a muscle or break a bone yet, how he hasn't managed to shatter something with the sheer pace and force of how gojo satoru fucks, "hah, 'toru. i'm —"

"close? g-god, i hope so. 's what i want. nothing, like n-nothing feels better than this right?" his words are falling out of him in a messy, pussydrunk rush, his eyes flickering between your face and down to where your pussy lips are bulged around his shaft, "so good, right? the b-best thing you've ever —"

you truthfully don't even hear the rest of his words, blood absolutely roaring and rearing in your ears, your ribcage as you feel the tight coil snap, letting out short, slurred snaps of his name when you cum. as he doesn't quite let up on smacking his hips right against your ass, "s-satoru, 's getting s-sensitive, oh, fuck. fuck!"

he's suddenly whining, with pleading and erratic blue eyes chasing after you, sloppily pushing down so he can gasp and pant into your open mouth, before capturing you in a heart-stopping kiss as he finally gets milked dry by your pulsing and fluttering walls. in awe of how creamy white is practically leaking out of you, dripping a stringy trail over the flesh of your thighs.

you're agape at how utterly fucked he looks right now, though you're certain you do not look much better as fat tears prick at your eyes, streaming past your ears from the overstimulation, "s-still fillin' me up, 'toru. god, do ya always cum this much?"

at first, you don't even get a response from gojo who just sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, almost as if he's trying not to cry out, but then he's back to circling your clit with a rough hand, "makin' me sound like some kinda whore, s-sweetheart. 'n and i told you. don't do this m-much."

and now he's slowing down, pleasurably painful bucks of his hips keeping glossy, white seed in you. ensuring that it coats your entire entrance, "an' it's not my fault that she," and here, he gives your clit a small smack! grinning like a madman, "n-not my fault that she's so, hah, addictive."

each tight circle of his hand on your clit sends you hurtling into yet another orgasm, one that has you begging gojo for mercy, repreive, for more. an orgasm that has him whispering the sweetest nothings into your ear, "d-don't worry, gotcha like this. gonna let you rest n-now, jus' gotta relax for me."

by the time he's slipping his still somehow hard cock out of your creamed cunt, you can feel exhaustions heavy and caring hands caress you, rendering your body limp and boneless. your eyes heavy and hazy, but you can feel a soft ghost of gojo's kiss over the shell of your ear, "h-hope y'still here in the morning, sweetheart. don't leave, yeah?"

the morning sunlight filters through the blinds, and despite the ache in your limbs that cricks your bones, you drag yourself out of bed. christmas day, after all. you've thrown on gojo's dress shirt from last night, snug enough to flutter around your hips, but oversized enough around the shoulders to let you drown in it.

it's cozy though, and even the chilly air feels refreshing against the warmth clinging to you. gojo is still sound asleep, and you had smiled at how he took little puffs of air as he was passed flat out in bed. but you always like to be up early on christmas, and there's something about the holiday that makes you feel like you need to earn the right to nap later.

you wander around the bedroom for a bit, stretching your legs as your muscle protest in earnest. eventually, you decide to make your way to that kitchen. breakfast, right.

it seems like a good idea, especially considering the last thing in your stomach was a questionably sour vodka. so you pull open the fridge, expecting something befitting of this apartment. perhaps a slab of wagyu beef, a tin of caviar, a thick block of pistachio-cream dubai chocolate. you'd even settle for sushi.

instead, you're left staring back at a stack of candy canes, some strawberry yoghurt, a carton of milk and some fast food wrappers. despite your protesting stomach, a deep amusement washes over you. it doesn't surprise you that gojo would have a fridge stocked with food you'd find at a child's birthday party and a greasy diner.

still, breakfast is in order and because you can't help it, you pull out a candy cane and start unwrapping it. you're just about take a bite when you hear the unmistakable pad of footsteps. you turn, face to face with someone who would clearly not be out of place on a vogue covershoot.

gojo hasn't tossed on a shirt, and the sunlight filters over his chiselled physique before your sight is stolen by the loose sheet wrapped around his waist. delicious. you try to snap your gaze back to his face, but it's hard to not track your gaze down his torso, like a cat eyeing a particularly irresistible sunbeam.

"good morning to you too," gojo says, a grin curling his lips, "what are you doing?" his voice is still thick with interrupted sleep, laced with a morning rasp that forces you to ground yourself and stop falling prey to the god, eros and his machinations.

"breakfast, 'm starving."

"don't bother," gojo says, shaking his head, "we can go somewhere nice for breakfast. like real, actual food. don't think you want half-eaten yoghurt."

you nod enthusiastically, mind turning back to the peeling seal of the strawberry yoghurt with a spoon sticking out of it. but then, something else catches your mind's attention. a little curiosity piques, one that you cannot help but ask him.

"wait," you begin, snapping your teeth around the saccharine mint of the candy cane, "y'know what's crazy. like, i swear your eyes glowed last night. not even in a silly compliment way, but like electricity. i thought i was like, losing it.'

you expect gojo to brush it off with a wink, or maybe laugh it off like you're just teasing him. but instead, the man's face shifts, that cocky smile faltering for the briefest moment. it's gone so fast that you think you almost imagined it. but why does he look...almost guilty?

before you can process that, you realised you've leaned yourself over the counter, and in your absent-mindedness, your elbow presses a button on the answering machine. a small beep, and suddenly, a voice blares through the room,

"hey, gojo-sensei!" comes a high-pitched, distinctly teenage voice, an excited boy who sounds a little crackly over the speaker, "so, we found this grade one curse yesterday...and uh, we totally got rid of it. we were gon' call you, but you didn't pick up. but i almost got my arm torn off. wait, no! that sounds dramatic, i got shoko to look at it anyway. so what we're all wondering right is that we don't have to hand in any homework now right? as like reparations?"

the voice crackles off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. you stand there, absolutely dumbstruck, staring at the answering machine like it's about to burst into flames or start singing christmas carols.

gojo, meanwhile, has the most awkward look on his face, clearly caught between embarrassment...and what? panic, amusement?

"satoru, what the fuck?"

he looks at you for a moment, but instead of speaking, he lets out a long and exasperated sigh before pulling out one of the counter chairs, "you're gonna want to sit down for this one, sweetheart."

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babeydoll · 2 years ago

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#if i ever get asked #'hey are you going ok because you dont seem like youre doing ok'#and i respond by yelling and throwing a fit #please take that as a sign that i am not doing ok #if i was doing ok id probably not respond to the ask #put my laptop away #write in my journal #and think about my feelings in a healthy and mature way #and THEN respond to the ask #i also wouldnt get angry at the person for asking clarifying questions about what made me so upset in the first place #nor would i go out of my way to interact more with the things and people that upset me so much #but maybe thats just me #maybe im not mature enough because im still young #or maybe i can only possibly be a healthy person if i go to therapy #which as we all know #Definitely works for every single person alive #and is affordable etc etc #but hey thats just hypothetical #(also #when i do get upsettting asks #i just delete them. because theres no reason to interact with dumb people publicly #but again im young and not in therapy so i cant possibly know anything at all etc etc)

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azrielbrainrot · 6 months ago

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Moonlit Shadows - Act I

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: When tasked to find the once famed Temple of the Moon Goddess, Azriel only expected to find old, forgotten ruins if anything at all. He could have never imagined that not only would he find a temple but also someone who would change his life forever.

Tropes/Tags: Star Crossed Lovers (in a way), Forbidden Romance (kinda), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, some Angst with a Happy Ending

Warnings: a bit of angst

Word Count: 12,4k

Rating: 18+ (this part is actually kinda chill)

Notes: Just as a warning (?) reader has white hair and white silvery eyes in this story but those are the only physical descriptions I will make, they're kind of part of her magic. Also when I started writing this I totally intended on it being a one-shot but the story got away from me and I decided to split it up into 3 parts. I really hope you enjoy!

You've been pacing in front of the temple's door ever since the sun set over the mountain, the warm rays slowly being replaced with the brilliant pale moonlight. You keep wringing your hands together and smoothing down any possible wrinkle on your dress, repositioning the diadem perched on your head to make sure it sits perfectly. It's not often you get visitors up in the temple, let alone any your Goddess went out of Her way to warn you about and gave clear instructions to help in any way you could. You can't quite distinguish if the anxiety building inside you is the result of excitement or wariness - possibly a healthy dose of both.

The last time someone climbed these steps had been almost a full decade ago. It was a quite short affair as well since the visitor only needed a book long forgotten in the temple's library. You'd read it multiple times before, and offered it without hesitation, prompting the traveler to thank you and immediately start descending the mountain, going on his way all the while muttering about finally having all the knowledge he needed to achieve his goal. That small interaction served as a reminder of your purpose in this temple, filled you with a sense of accomplishment you usually felt in such situations, but you've been alone in between these walls since then.

After almost four centuries you're more than used to the quiet, to the way your steps echoe in the grand empty space. The loneliness had been a more prominent companion, but even that had come and gone throughout the years. You had no place in the world, nor family or friends waiting for you anymore. All you had left was your duty to the temple. But you're still only fae and the longing for some company catches up to you every once in a while. At times you think you only want the reminder that you're still alive.

There wasn't much to do around the temple either, it magically gave you food and kept itself clean so you didn't even need to bother with that. You could recite every book in the library at this point and you found you weren't the best artist as you tried your hand at painting and sculpting, even music and dancing. The flowers around the temple seemed to grow effortlessly, not even needing you to tend to them either. Even keeping a journal proved inefficient as there was little to write down, the monotony of your life not interesting enough for such a thing. When tasked with guarding the temple, you would never have imagined boredom would end up being your biggest problem.

You still recall the day your hair started turning white and your eyes dulling, losing their color slowly until they turned into the silver, almost white color they were now, mirroring the moonlight. At first your parents thought it could be some disease or even a curse, they were scared for your health and safety beyond measure, but when the Goddess contacted you and sent you the amulet you now wear religiously around your neck, it guided you and your parents to this very temple hidden in the mountains of the Night Court. She then told you Herself what the fates had written for you, presenting you with an oath and sharing her power with you, making you the Keeper of the Moon Temple.

Everything had seemed impossible to believe at first, the time of the Gods had passed millenia ago, it was hard to find someone who could even name any of them anymore, you certainly couldn't at the time. So when you were told what your role in life was going to be you had been completely blindsided, not even knowing what to make of your new occupation, of being trusted with such an important task when you weren't even three decades old.

Truthfully, you expected at least a few people to show up every once in a while, asking for help or guidance. You even prepared yourself for there to be some threats to the temple, but things had been mostly peaceful and quiet, so quiet. You understand why guarding the temple is important, this type of knowledge and power can't ever fall into the wrong hands, the safety of the world depends on it, but sometimes you wonder what your life could have been like if you hadn't been chosen by fate to hold such a heavy burden by yourself.

Your heart stalls in your chest when you feel a presence approaching, used to feeling them pass by unannounced as the temple remains hidden in its protective spell. When it's clear this is the visitor the Goddess had warned you about, as they entered the wards seamlessly, you take a deep calming breath, adjusting the diadem one last time, and open the heavy doors, revealing the temple to the moonlight. As the stairs come into view, you step up to the threshold and clasp your hands together behind your back, waiting to be of help as your Goddess instructed you to.

Distractedly rehearsing your greeting, unused as it was, you almost miss the dark shadows swirling up the milky steps, passing by you and escaping to all corners of the temple before you have time to react. Your head snaps back to follow them, breaking the calming character you were falling into in preparation to fulfill your duty. Some of your power drips down to your fingertips, casting a white glow under your skin, as you study these shadows intently. Not finding any ill intent in them, as strange as they were, some of the tension leaves your body. They simply lay before you, more and more of these wispy shadows gathering together as they swirled around themselves, not paling even a fraction under the bright moonlight or your powers. Strange little things indeed.

You wonder for a moment if this was the visitor the Goddess had mentioned, not knowing what to make of it or how to approach such a situation. She had not specified if the visitor was fae, though you're not so sure how you would be able to help shadows. Before you could embarrass yourself in trying to speak to these creatures, the same presence you felt earlier makes itself known, much closer than before. Looking up at the starry sky, you find strong, dark wings carrying someone directly to the temple, a glimpse of blue shining over their dark form.

This was already the most interesting visitor you've ever had. You'd never had the pleasure of meeting any winged fae before, and, given their reaction to the fae approaching, you were confident the shadows were under their command. Those were definitely even rarer than winged fae - Shadowsingers, you remember them being called.

As they fly down closer to you and the temple, slowly letting the wind guide them, you feel a strange tug on your chest, and then another, this time strong enough that it makes you look down at yourself with furrowed eyebrows. Your confusion only deepens when you notice a bright string connected to your heart, raising your hand to try and touch it. Your fingers pass right through it, as if it wasn't there in the first place, and soon after you try catching it, the string disappears from sight.

You lay a hand down over your chest, feeling your heart beating under your palm. The string was invisible now, but you could still feel it tugging incessantly, as if urging you to look up. You follow its silent command, almost gasping out loud when you find the winged fae a lot closer than you had expected, catching him as he lands with a harsh tud on top of the steps, arms bracing out to maintain his balance as if he isn't quite used to landing yet. The shadows swirling at your feet rush to him, and a bewildered expression takes over his face, likely mirroring your own, as he stares at you, mouth agape.

Wide leathery wings stand behind him, open in a somewhat awkward angle as he stands frozen in place. As the moonlight filters through them you realize they're not quite black as they appeared before, the insides actually have a beautiful crimson hue to them. Your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they keep cataloging his entire form, taking note of every detail as if it was crucial information. He was covered from head to toe in black leathers, you recognize it as an armor of sorts. It clung to his every muscle, showcasing them as much as it protected him from harm. You find the same blue light from before twinkling in the midst of all the black, studying it closer to find it came from gems scattered across his armor, you're almost certain they hold some of his magic somehow.

Moving up his neck, you find tan skin shining under the moonlight and black hair curling into his forehead softly, locks messy and a little damp from the flight. The stranger also had striking hazel eyes, and you find yourself struggling to not get lost in them, only bringing yourself to break eye contact when you notice the glittery string once more in the corner of your eye, only this time it's connected to his chest.

Your breath catches in your throat as you follow its path slowly, careful not to lose the thin thread once more, finding it leading back to your own heart. You feel another tug, prompting you to look back up at the male in front of you. A hand falls over your heart at the implication, right where you could feel the phantom string had tied itself. Yet another tug confirming your suspicions.

How could this be?

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Azriel wasn't expecting his evening to turn out like this when he was called to Rhys' office. While he knew there was going to be a mission of sorts, he never imagined it would involve a temple no one has ever heard of or a Goddess long forgotten. Even with Amren's knowledge and the old books she found corroborating her words, Azriel was still anticipating coming back to Velaris empty handed. He's flown over these same mountains at least a million times in the five centuries he's been alive, and never once has he noticed a temple or any signs of magic.

The woods under him looked completely untouched as far as he could tell, no one choosing to live so far from the neighboring towns, isolated between the trees and steep mountains. His shadows filtered through the woods in case he missed something from his high position, even if he thought this search was in vain, it didn't mean he wasn't going to give it his best to fulfill his High Lord's order. He felt almost naked without his shadows latching onto his body though, the single companion still perched on his shoulder in order to relay him information not giving him nearly enough coverage to feel at ease when he was so far from home.

Mission and discomfort aside, the wind felt heavenly hitting his skin on this warm summer evening. It had been a while since he was able to fly for this long without dreading his destination as it usually meant he was visiting the Illyrian mountains, the Hewn City or a much more gruesome mission than the one he found himself in at the moment. It also feels good to step away from the full houses he found himself in nowadays. As much as he loved his family, Azriel had always valued his alone time and it was getting harder to find himself completely alone in the midst of missions and the ever growing inner circle.

As he was flying over the edge of the mountain, Azriel was getting ready to make the trip back and throw a very satisfying “I told you so” at his brother's face when his shadows suddenly disappeared right before his eyes. The abruptness of it made him panic for a few seconds, clapping his wings so he was hovering in the same place and was able to study the space ahead of him, trying to feel for any type of ward or shield but coming up empty. He could still feel his shadows, and knew they were alright given how calm the remaining one was as it sat on his shoulder and simply urged him forward, as if confused why he had stopped in the first place.

Azriel trusted his shadows blindly, they had never steered him wrong after all, and so he did as he was told and slowly started moving forward once again. After living for five hundred years surrounded by magic, there isn't much that can surprise the shadowsinger, but he can safely say he's never seen anything like this. He felt his body pass through some sort of gateway, one that went unnoticed by him until now, and as he did his surroundings began changing as if they had only been a mirage before.

In between the trees a path carved in white stone could now be seen, glinting under the moonlight in complete contrast to the rest of the dark woods. As his eyes followed this path, going up stairs of the same stone carved into the side of the mountain, he found a white temple sitting right at the top. It wasn't a huge building by any means, but the white eerie glow it emitted made it impossible to miss had it not been the spell covering it - one that would make the one who kept Velaris safe for centuries pale in comparison - and keeping it hidden from the world and unwanted eyes.

Amren had been right after all, something that happens more often than he would ever care to admit. The Goddess of the Moon still had at least a temple left in this world, leaving it behind when She took to the sky. Not much is known about the old Gods, but Azriel, born and raised in the Night Court, felt himself relax as he looked up at the moon shining above him, not believing this Goddess could be anything but benevolent. She had watched him fly over from Velaris after all, it almost felt like he was guided here.

The entire temple was made of white stone - it appeared to be the same type of stones used for the path and stairs leading up to it, only more polished. There were silver highlights carved into the walls and columns, these glowed with an intensity Azriel had never seen. Most of the roof was a huge skylight, likely so the moon could illuminate Her temple and Her followers could bask in Her brilliant light.

Given the color scheme of the entire building, his shadows were easy enough to spot, which would have been a big problem had he decided on a more covert operation when coming to the temple, he was more than glad he came here in peace. His little companions seemed perfectly content as they swirled around and over themselves right in front of the temple's doors, a few steps from a figure completely clad in white.

Even after finding the temple where he had only seen trees and shrubs before, he couldn't help but feel even more surprised that there was someone inside it. A sudden spark of magic has the shadowsinger moving faster, a gasp catching in his throat when he sees bright, pale light coming from the figure's palms. Even this wasn't enough to send the shadows that would be at the receiving hand of it into alarm, something curious on its own as they were usually as suspicious and careful as their master.

Azriel was already within earshot when the person in front of him decided his shadows posed no threat and the white light disappeared from her hands. At first glance she might have looked like a regular high fae female, but there was a different kind of power flowing through her, as shown by the strange way this light magic manifested itself, something Azriel had never felt before.

Upon flying down closer, his feet almost touching the top of the steps in front of the temple, he realizes she had not been wearing a white hood or veil as he initially thought but her hair was completely white. There was an unnatural element to it as each strand shone under the moonlight, almost rivaling it in its intensity. The floor length dress she wore was of the same color, made of a light, breathable fabric, almost translucent in certain areas, swishing softly in the faint breeze. She had not looked up at him yet, seemingly intrigued as she watched her own chest. Perhaps looking at the pendant she wore around her neck, the magic coming from it could almost be seen in its intensity.

Azriel took this moment to take her in, not knowing what to say since he was the one possibly trespassing. She was absolutely gorgeous, truly mesmerizing in her beauty and demeanor. It was almost impossible to believe she was real, standing right in front of him and not a Goddess walking his dreams. For a moment Azriel wonders if this is truly the Goddess, if She never left the land of the mortals as it was once believed, instead keeping herself safely hidden in these uninhabited mountains, but when she looks up from her necklace, eyes falling on him for the first time, all thoughts evaporate from his mind. White, silvery eyes meet hazel and a sudden rush of inexplicable feelings hit him right in the chest, squeezing his heart tight and taking his breath away. It felt as if the world had broken apart and put itself together, as if everything finally made sense. The only thing he could make sense of was one word, swirling around in his mind and completely taking over every cell on his body. Mate. You were his mate.

In his stupor, Azriel forgets he was still up in the air, wings freezing along with the rest of his body and sending him falling towards the ground. Thankfully, he hadn't been too high up, and was still able to land on his feet, knees only buckling under his weight slightly as he steadied himself. This had to be the most ungraceful landing he's performed since his brothers were training him between giggles and harmless teasing when he first joined the Illyrian camps. If he wasn't so surprised and his brain was able to formulate a single thought, he would be cringing at the fact that you had just witnessed it, his mate had witnessed it.

It takes several moments before he starts catching on to the situation, the ringing in his ears subsiding and the rest of the world re-emerging around you. He hadn't even noticed his shadows had returned to him, ecstatic for their master finally found his equal. Azriel tries to school his features in an attempt to keep at least some dignity, in fear of coming on too strong as well, especially since it seemed you were in the same predicament as him, a curious but stunned expression locked in your beautiful face as you studied him. His stupid Illyrian senses make him flare out his wings a little before he has the chance to fully take control of his body. When your gaze finds his once more, his heart stalls in his chest before speeding up at an alarming rate. You haven't even spoken a single word to him, but his heart already sang for yours.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The oath you made before your Goddess rushes into your head as you study the handsome male in front of you. How could this be possible? The fates had decided your life lied within the temple long before you were born, so why give you a mate? A bond like this is extremely rare, you'd never seen one in your entire lifetime, albeit you lived isolated from the world for most of it. Still, this was something only a few were blessed with, a bond stronger than what mortal minds could even comprehend, so why waste it on you? Could the fates and the Mother be this cruel?

You can't even bring yourself to hope he didn't notice the brilliant bond forming between you - an angry twist pulling at your heartstrings when you dare to think of hiding it - considering the expression on his face and his silence, it seems he's already more than aware of it. All it took was a single glance and it had fallen into place for both of you.

In the midst of the rushing thoughts invading your brain, you try to remember what you've read about mating bonds. There was a book talking about them in the library, of this much you were sure, but its contents were evading your racing mind.

Gaze falling to the floor, trying to sober up from what you imagine to be one of the most intense occurrences anyone could go through, you almost miss the step he takes towards you. The surprise of it makes you flinch slightly, but it was enough for him to notice and take the same step back, wings coiling up tightly to his back and shadows moving to cover him almost completely, excitement wiped off his face and replaced with a hurt expression.

Your gaze falls on him once more, a self loathing feeling crawling up your throat and making you want to beg for his forgiveness on your knees at the thought that you put that expression on his face. This bond would take some getting used to, in what world would you kneel before a male you've just met. Still, you didn't want him to think he scared or even disgusted you in any way, mate or no mate, that was extremely rude.

You clear your throat softly, remembering the weight of your role in this temple and trying desperately to fall back into character, hoping the familiarity of your duties will bring your mind some peace and help you get through this moment.

“Forgive me, it isn't often that we get visitors,” his entire body tenses up even further at your words, but it relaxes as you keep speaking, “I welcome you to the last Temple of the Moon. I'm the keeper and sole habitant of this temple. I've been tasked to keep it safe from any possible threats, but also do my best to help anyone the Goddess deems worthy of being shown the way, just as you have been.”

You try not to look too long in his general direction in fear of getting lost in his eyes once more, but that's close to impossible when you're talking to him and he might be the most beautiful male you've ever encountered. Taking a step to the side, you hold out a hand towards the door, inviting him into the temple, something you should have already done.

He nods his head once after watching your outstretched arm for a moment longer, and then makes his way inside slowly. As he passes by, you can't help but breathe in his scent, it feels intoxicating and it takes every bit of strength in your body to not let your mind linger on how well it would smell mixed with yours, until you couldn't point out where one ended and the other began.

A gasp pulls you out of your betraying thoughts, a smile finding its way to your lips, knowing the sight was making him speechless. It always sparks a little pride in you when someone gazes upon the temple for the first time. Even after living here for centuries, this temple's beauty still takes your breath away. The entire floor was made of replandescent white stones, silver gems weave highlights into them, creating patterns across the entire room, maps of constellations and lunar phases, and giving it a particular glow of their own. They were illuminated by the giant skylight making up most of the ceiling, as to allow both the moon and sunlight to enter. You've tried identifying the materials used in this construction before but ended up coming up empty. It seems the precious stones and gems used no longer grew in this world, perhaps they never did.

At the far corner of the room there was an altar, one without statue or offering table, but an altar all the same. Even when She walked this world, your Goddess never accepted gifts or ever allowed anyone to replicate her image because even that could end up leaving traces of her power behind. The altar looks empty right now, and you catch yourself wishing he could be here to see it on a full moon, when the moon rays fall right over it and you can communicate with and receive any orders the Goddess might have for you. The entire room holds an even more intense glow during that night of the month as well, you're sure he would find it fascinating.

Making your way around him, careful not to step too close or accidentally touch his wings, you catch sight of his awe stricken face, tan skin glowing beautifully under the moonlight. A small, fond smile appears on his face when his gaze falls back on yours, and you almost curse the Mother for the challenge she just put in front of you. His beauty was truly otherworldly, it rivaled every shiny gem and stone in this room, maybe even the moon herself. How were you supposed to act normally knowing this was your mate?

“I've never seen anything like this before,” he admits softly, eyes never straying from yours. The sound of his voice makes you pause, it feels strangely familiar, like something you've been waiting to hear your entire life. There's a curious kind of magic around mating bonds, you don't know how it's possible for someone you've just met to already have so much power over you, even when you're trying your best to ignore him.

“I still find myself at a loss for words when gazing at this room as well,” you agree, wanting to cringe at the bashful expression you know has fallen over your face. Your plan of keeping a detached demeanor while fulfilling your duties was doomed from the start. You clasp your hands behind your back before continuing in what you hope is a professional voice. “The Goddess warned me of your arrival and left orders for me to help you in any way I can. If you tell me what you seek, I will give you what you came here for as long as it's within my abilities.”

His eyebrows furrow slightly at your words. “How did you know I was coming?”

“The Goddess knows more than us mortals will ever be able to grasp,” you explain as vaguely as possible while hopefully not raising any suspicions. There's not a single cell in your body that thinks he's untrustworthy, but they're incredibly biased, and the inner workings of your role as the Moon's keeper must be protected.

He seems satisfied enough with your answer, but there's a different kind of air about him now. As if remembering he doesn't know you, and has found himself at your mercy.

“You haven't told me what you came for,” you remind him. If you sit in silence for long your thoughts will start drifting again.

“Right,” he clears his throat, a pinkish tint covering the tips of his rounded ears. “I come on behalf of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.” Your eyebrows raise at this, not expecting him to be such an important person. “One of the High Lady's sisters has been turned into a seer recently, and given that she wasn't even born fae, these powers have proven extremely hard to control.”

You've heard the story of the human who saved the fae from the evil clutches of Amarantha, and her sisters who were tragically thrown in the cauldron by King Hybern and turned into fae against their will. Your Goddess had even told you one of the sisters vengefully stole her powers from the cauldron, and the other was gifted seer abilities. Given the circumstances in which this all went down, it's understandable that she has been having trouble controlling her powers. Being a seer is an exceptionally heavy burden, and she's still so young too.

“We have some books that might be able to help, both in controlling one's power and pulling an entranced fae out of any visions or dreams they've found themselves stuck in. Was that what you were hoping for?”

“Yes,” he admits, apparently relieved at having found what he was looking for, “We found texts mentioning the followers of the Moon Goddess often had prophetic dreams, and wrote entire manuals on how to navigate them. Since Elain wasn't born with these powers these books seemed perfect to help her, and so the High Lady sent me searching for them.” You nod, motioning for him to follow you as you turn and start walking to the library, already making a mental list of all the books that might help his friend.

Even lost in thought, you sense him stopping in his steps as you're walking down the corridor, overwhelmingly aware of his every move as you were. This prompts you to turn around and face him in question, only to find him watching you in amazement.

“You're breathtaking,” he blurts out before he can catch himself, making heat rush up your neck and settle over your entire face. He looks away embarrassed for a moment, one of his shadows crawling up his neck and over his ear, before looking back at you with a bashful look. “I'm sorry. I just- Is it normal for you to glow like this?”

This power has been a part of you for so long, you almost forget about the way your hair lights up in the dark, an aura surrounding you as well, giving you an overall ethereal glow. “Yes, I harness power from the moon and She glows so…” you trail off, biting your lip as he keeps studying you. “The library is right up ahead,” you add, turning your back to him once more so you can gather your thoughts for the nth time since he stepped foot into this temple.

As you navigate through the familiar rows of shelves your heart finally calms, easily picking up the pertinent books. You can't help but keep watching him out of the corner of your eye, not out of suspicion, but curiosity for his every reaction. He seems content with following after you as he watches the decorations and studies the books sitting on the shelves, not once asking you what you're giving him, simply carrying the books you hand him. It makes you wonder if he usually trusts everyone this easily or if it's something reserved for you.

When you hand him the last book, you move to the back of the room slowly, the place where you keep some important magical amulets and tools, waiting on any sign from the Goddess forbidding you from lending him any of them. He comes to stand beside you then, likely noticing your hesitation.

“There is also an artifact that I think could help your friend,” you start, picking up the bracelet in question and holding it up as you explain its power, “This can help numb one's powers.”

“Like faebane?”

You shake your head, “No, this is completely painless, but it's vital that it is only used when she's finding herself lost in her visions and you're struggling to pull her out. This is not to be used as a crutch. If she used it to suppress her powers too often, she might never be able to take control of her full powers and this bracelet could become something she can't live without.” He nods, hopefully understanding the gravity behind your words. “It's also extremely rare and dangerous so I ask that, as soon as she has a better grasp of her abilities, I would say within a few years at most, this bracelet is delivered back to the temple so it can be kept safe.”

“What happens if we don't return it?”

The question makes you tense up and close your hands around the bracelet, your voice coming out clipped as you answer him. “I'm not entirely sure as no one has ever attempted something so foolish as long as I've been here, but those types of transgressions are handled by the Goddess so I imagine you would not be able to keep it even if you tried.”

“I wasn't considering keeping it. I was merely curious,” he rushes to explain, sincerity dripping from every word and making you relax a bit.

“Curious?”

“If you would be the one to come for it,” he confessed.

A warm tingly feeling spreads through your body as you digest his words. Would he seriously consider stealing from a God just for a chance to see you again? Even if it meant being at the end of your wrath? Can you be confident the bond wouldn't drive you to such extremes as well?

“I can't leave the temple unattended,” you murmur, much too softly for your own good. Your emotions are running all over the place, it almost seems like they're fighting to see which one will take control of your body, and unfortunately, you have an inkling as to which is winning as his scent overwhelms your senses once again.

“Of course,” he says, taking a small step closer to you, shadows mostly retreating from his body, “Forgive me. I didn't mean to upset you.” Must his voice sound like a cup of hot chocolate after a day spent playing in the snow?

It doesn't help that you've been in this temple for so long that you can't even recall the last time someone touched you, not even sexually, no one has so much as held your hand or hugged you in decades, ever since your parents passed. Looking at him, you know you could get lost in his arms, your head resting against his strong chest.

It's only when you squeeze the bracelet too hard, a bit of its power zapping through you, that you're finally able to pull yourself from the beautiful hazel of his eyes, and your consuming thoughts. Clearing your throat and handing him the bracelet. He only hesitates a second, likely pulling himself out of the moment as well, before carefully taking it from your hand, conscious of not letting his skin touch yours, much to your dismay.

You can feel your eyes widen at the sight of his scarred hands before you have a chance to school your features. The armor he wears and the sword strapped between his wings tell you he's a warrior, but you can't imagine what could have happened for this injury to scar like this. Someone employed directly under the High Lord must have access to the best healers in the court. Suddenly, anger bubbles in the pit of your stomach at the thought that someone dared to hurt your mate.

This time he's the one to pull away from you abruptly, shadows returning to their master, and that infuriating string tugging at your heart as he does. It makes you want to reach out and hold his hand, reassure him somehow, but thankfully your brain catches up to the thought that might be overstepping, and so you simply nod at him and ask him to follow you back to the temple's main room once more.

The walk back is filled with a heavy atmosphere, not only considering your oversight, but also at the realization that you must send him away now, likely never to see him again. If you're lucky he will be the one to return the bracelet, and you will be able to see him in a few years. The thought makes you slow your pace.

It's only when you reach the heavy doors, that you allow yourself to turn to him, his face reflecting your feelings perfectly. You briefly consider mentioning the bond, at least to make sure he feels it too, but you fail to see what good that would bring. You still can't leave the temple and, now that he's gotten what he came for, he will not be able to return either. This will be the last time you see each other, regardless of your feelings.

He studies your face carefully, perhaps wondering the same. It seems he reaches a conclusion as he speaks up, “Can you tell me your name?” He sounded hopeful, but somehow scared of asking, as if denying him could hurt him beyond comparison.

You whisper your name hesitantly, knowing this isn't just another stranger, this was your mate. He repeats it, tasting it on his tongue as he stares at you with an intensity you almost couldn't bear, but were unable to look away from.

“My name is Azriel,” he offers willingly, like he wanted nothing more than to hear you say his name, and who were you to deny him this when you were already withholding so much? You repeat his name the same way he did yours, the impertinent little silver string connecting you and your mate reappearing as the delicious word left your lips.

You keep repeating it in your mind as he thanks you for your help and you watch him take flight, hesitation written in his entire body language as his wings slowly carry him over the clouds, looking back down multiple times as if fighting himself to keep moving. You repeat it once more out loud, when you can't see him anymore and you know he's out of earshot. This time his name is followed by a broken whisper of an apology.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The flight back to Velaris was one of the hardest ones Azriel has ever attempted, noticeably taking him much longer than it would have under normal circumstances. He has had to fly back home on an injured body and even injured wings, carrying another with him – Cassian of all people – and he's had to fly through the most extreme weather, heavy rain, snow and the torrid desert sun. All of those things had seemed easy compared to what he was experiencing now with a well rested body.

Both Rhysand and Cassian had mentioned how the mating bond made them act differently, how it seemed like it was taking control of their body and pushing them to act a certain way, but he didn't expect it to be this bad. His every instinct was screaming at him to turn around and go back for his mate.

He even had to take a break along the way, after watching the temple disappear right before his eyes, hidden inside the spell that had kept it safe for millenia. As the sight of the brilliant building was replaced with trees and rocks, the only thing going through Azriel's mind was that he might never see his mate again, the mere thought sending his heart into disarray. He spends a good while sitting under the moonlight, looking ahead at where he knows she is, while his shadows do their best to comfort him. Trying desperately to wrap his head around everything that happened, and how much his life changed in such a short time.

If he had been given a warning, a chance to prepare himself, then maybe he would have approached things differently, but getting blindsided by a mating bond wasn't in his plans. In fact, it had been a good while since he had stopped hoping for a mate.

He had longed for one most of his life. For someone that not only was his equal, but was also able to connect to him in ways only those who have experienced such a thing can begin to comprehend. A person that would accept him no matter how wretched he was, how much blood he has had to wash off his hands for the sake of his court. Someone he would love with every breath in him, even if it ruined him completely.

So many don't truly believe in mating bonds until they see them in front of them, but Azriel always did. He'd seen the worst this world had to offer and knew that if there was such darkness, then its counterpart would be equally as strong. And what could be stronger and brighter than love?

It wasn't until his brothers found mates of their own within a year of each other that Azriel started truly wishing for one though. Before, it was nothing more than a dream, just as he had dreamt of flying when he was locked in his cell, of seeing his mother when his cruel father kept him away from her, but seeing the happiness the mating bond had brought his brothers and how amazing the connection they shared with their mates was, he couldn't help longing for the same.

That was until enough years passed, everyone around him happily mated or in loving relationships while he stood by and watched from the same dark corner of the room. Azriel had convinced himself he wasn't worthy of a mate, even now after seeing you he can't help but feel the same. You were perfect in every aspect of the word, a beacon of light even kept away in your temple, while Azriel was nothing more than a monster. The feared Spymaster of the Night Court. Always ready to drench his hands in blood for the sake of his family and his home, always covered in shadows. A lesser fae, Illyrian of all kinds.

You deserve someone better, of that much he's sure, but the Mother had decided you were equals, and Azriel didn't mind doing his best to be worthy of you even if he had to work for it for the rest of his life. He's been waiting to love someone for so long, has been saving all of that inside him, and he wants nothing more than to shower you in affection, in reverence. Except it didn't seem like he would have the chance.

For most of your interaction, Azriel was convinced you had also felt the bond forming between you two, but he couldn't be sure, not when you hadn't even mentioned it or alluded to it before showing him out. Maybe he had read too much into things, let his own feelings bleed into his analysis, or maybe you simply didn't want a mating bond, not with someone like him. It didn't seem like you knew of him, but who's to say you haven't heard of the awful things he's done, and decided you didn't want anything to do with a monster like him.

The thought had his shadows rushing to soothe him once more, whispering vehement denials of his unworthiness as they covered him. Unfortunately, they wouldn't answer any of his questions about you, claiming it wasn't their place to explain your feelings or situation. In a way they were right, but that left him with no idea of what to think.

Azriel sat on that mountain, mulling over everything that had happened until the first rays of the sun started rising over the horizon. It wasn't until Rhysand reached out to check on him, worried at his spymaster's unusual tardiness, that he resumed his trip back to Velaris, this time passing through shadows along the way to cut his time shorter, hoping his brother hadn't caught glimpse of the heartbreakingly beautiful female consuming his every thought. Trying desperately to clear his mind as the cool wind hit his face, preparing for the meeting that was waiting for him as soon as he got home.

“So the temple truly exists?” Rhysand had been as skeptical about the temple's existence as Azriel, finding it hard to believe that such a thing could be hidden in his own court without his knowledge.

Azriel nods and sets the books you've given him on the dark desk, dropping the bracelet on top of the pile carefully, trying not to be reminded of the way you had handed it to him, or focus on your scent still clinging to it faintly. Shaking himself out of it and letting the spymaster mask fall over his face, he starts explaining how he had found the temple behind a powerful spell, going into detail about the building itself, the keeper who had helped him and the books and bracelet given to him, including the warnings you gave him, making sure to stress the fact that the bracelet was to be returned as soon as Elain gained enough control of her abilities.

“You really didn't feel the wards around the temple?”

“No, if my shadows hadn't disappeared right before my eyes I wouldn't have even noticed they were there.” So much had happened that Azriel almost forgot how peculiar those wards were, in fact all the magic present in the temple and in you had felt different.

“And this keeper?” His heart speeds up treacherously, enough so that Rhys gets a curious glint in his purple eyes, undoubtedly noticing it. “Tell me about her.”

A soft scowl takes over his features, a strange possessiveness creeping up before has the chance to quell it. “She was waiting for me at the entrance. Apparently the Moon Goddess warned her there was a visitor coming.”

“She can talk to the Goddess?”

“It seems so,” Azriel hesitates for a moment, “Her magic is different from any fae I've seen. Her hair is completely white, and her eyes aren't much darker, maybe a bit more silver. There was a certain aura about her, her entire being seemed to glow beautifully under the moonlight, even more when we moved inside. She truly looked otherworldly. In that moment, she looked even more radiant than the stars and the moon combined.”

A moment of silence falls over the room as everyone digests Azriel's words, tiny gasps leaving Feyre and Elain, who had been out of it for most of the conversation as a result of yet another one of her visions, and Nesta's jaw dropping significantly as they were not used to hearing the Shadowsinger muse about someone like this. Unfortunately, the others have seen him drunk enough when he was younger, so it wasn't as much of a surprise.

“What was that, brother?” Cassian's teasing voice cuts through his thoughts, “I thought you didn't resort to poetry.”

Azriel looks up at this, heat rising to his cheeks at the amused looks shared by everyone in the room, realizing he had lost himself in his descriptions of you, unable to keep them as clinical as he normally would, especially when it came to a mission.

“I just meant her magic manifests in a way I've never seen before,” he finishes lamely, one of his shadows oh so helpfully crawling up his neck to notify him that no one seemed to believe his excuse.

“Right, her magic,” Nesta mocks, suddenly interested in hearing about the temple after focusing on the books that would be helping her sister.

Thankfully, Amren didn't care about whether he found the keeper beautiful or not, and wanted to keep the conversation on track, a bored expression on her face as she pulled the attention back to her and the topic at hand.

“You said she called herself the keeper of the temple, correct?”

Azriel nods at her while checking his mental walls just in case, lest he also let them fall in his moment of distraction, and his High Lord or Lady saw something they shouldn't. He can only guess what feelings and thoughts would be attached to your image in his mind. If they saw this he would never hear the end of it.

“I believe she not only can communicate with the Goddess but also shares some of her powers. It's hard to determine just how powerful she truly is,” the ancient one turns to Rhys and Feyre, a serious look taking over her features, “She could become a threat to us.”

“She's not a threat,” his voice cuts through the room, protecting his mate instinctively.

Rhysand raises one annoyingly perfect eyebrow at Azriel's sudden outburst. Some of the amusement still lingers around the room, but the anger behind his statement was undeniable, creating some tension and confusion between everyone. It's not often they see him so on edge, to the point of raising his voice at Amren of all people.

He tries to calm himself as much as possible, knowing this is a symptom of the mating bond and that his brothers and sister-in-laws might be able to figure that out, and tries to explain himself once again.

“I was the one who talked to her, there were no ill intentions when she guided me through the temple and gave me the books. She even added more books than we wanted or knew existed, and the bracelet. She helped us willingly.”

Amren studies him through narrowed eyes for a moment longer before finishing her earlier thought. “Even if she had any ill intentions, keepers are bound to their temples and can't physically leave, so there wouldn't be much to worry about.”

It feels like the world stops when Azriel hears these words. Every little hope he was clinging to in regards to your bond escaped him in that moment. If what Amren said was true, you couldn't leave the temple, even if you wanted to come and find him, and he couldn't find the temple unless he needed something and the Goddess showed him the way. He could very well never see you again, or only once more, when Elain got better and he had to deliver the books and bracelet back to the temple. Was that why you ignored the bond? Because you knew there was no hope for the two of you?

Azriel spends the rest of the meeting in a sort of trance, barely able to listen to what his family was talking about, or even register what they decided when it came to helping Elain use the books. It was impossible to focus on anything when it felt like his life, a dream that had barely started was crumbling right before his eyes. He only tunes back in when the meeting is over and most of the Inner Circle starts leaving, hoping he can at least go rest from his flight, take a long bath and find a quiet place to be alone and digest these life changing last few hours.

He was already on his feet, dragging his exhausted body to the door when Rhys called out his name, making him turn around in question. “There's something else we need to discuss.” His brother was always the most perceptive at the worst times. The last thing Azriel wants to do right now is discuss his miserable fate with anyone.

Everyone filters out the room then, even Feyre who drops a kiss on her mate's cheek before following her sister out - a gesture he's more than used to witnessing but bears a different weight today - leaving the two brothers alone in the quiet office. Azriel doesn't move from his spot, standing in the middle of the room with crossed arms as Rhysand studies him, daring him to start the conversation, secretly praying he simply has another mission to send him on instead of the conversation he's almost sure is about to start.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with this keeper?”

Azriel has to physically stop himself from sighing. Why couldn't the Mother let him have a moment after everything that has already happened in the last few hours?

“Nothing happened,” he sounds defensive even to himself, his mind too preoccupied to try and mask his emotions, “She gave me the books and then I left.” This much was true, unfortunately.

Rhys simply hums, always sounding irritatingly sure of himself. “So you wouldn't mind showing me your memories of last night, right? I'd like to take a good look at the temple. It seemed quite intriguing,” he pauses for a second, head tilting a fraction to the side, mouth forming into a smirk, “and so did she.”

A snarl escapes Azriel's mouth at his brother's words. Even if he knew he was being baited, controlling this damned bond was impossible right now. Rhysand's smirk only deepens, like a predator who successfully lured its prey, since his brother gives him the exact reaction he was expecting with that little comment. No wonder Azriel has to work so hard as his Spymaster, it's a miracle Rhys has lived this long.

“You look very defensive of a female you've only exchanged one simple conversation with.”

“Like I said before,” he says, that snarl not quite leaving his lips no matter how hard he tries, “She helped us without a second thought, even more than we expected. I just don't understand why everyone keeps insisting that she might be a threat.”

“I didn't say she was a threat, I simply asked you to show me what she looked like.” The High Lord taps his purple painted nails on the table, waiting for a response. When it becomes clear that Azriel isn't taking the bait, Rhys keeps going, “Can't blame me for being curious of how this keeper beautifully glows under the moonlight. She looked otherworldly, you said?”

The thought of assassinating his loving brother crosses Azriel's mind. He doesn't even know what to respond knowing those were his own words, and any reaction would be amplified by the mating bond. The High Lord had him right where he wanted him.

As he keeps staring at his brother, shadows climbing up his body until most of him is covered from those intense violet eyes, Rhysand's expression changes, a somewhat defeated look replacing the earlier amusement as he accepts that he'll have to pry the truth from his spymaster.

“Azriel, I've known you for over five centuries. I can tell when you're hiding something from me,” his face and tone turning even more serious as he continues, “I also know what a fresh mating bond feels like, the emotions it evokes in us.”

Azriel stares at his brother for another moment, before realizing there was no need to try and pretend he wasn't right, letting out a sigh before sitting down in the chair across from him defeatedly, shadows settling while his wings drooped, enough to touch the floor.

“If you already know, why are you asking me about it?”

“I didn't expect this to be your reaction,” he says, thoroughly studying Azriel's face. “I don't understand why you wouldn't be happy. I know it can be scary, but you've always wanted a mate, Az.”

“There's nothing to be happy about.”

Rhys simply rolls his eyes, “I know a bit more about mating bonds than you do. Trust me there's a lot to be happy about.”

His temper rises at this, emotions still not having settled - he's starting to wonder if they ever will. Even his shadows were becoming overstimulated, not knowing how to soothe their singer in these circumstances.

“Didn't you hear what Amren said? She can't leave the temple, she's bound to it, and I can't go back there since it's hidden under whatever spell that was,” the words almost caught in his throat, “I'm never seeing her again.”

Saying it out loud makes the whole situation unbearably real. It's not often Azriel sees himself in conversation such as these, always one to ignore his feelings for as long as possible, and then isolating himself when they become too much, but his brother knows him too well, as he said before, and was prying out everything too easily.

“I don't even know if she wanted this,” he finds himself whispering.

“Why wouldn't she?”

Azriel swallows all the self-pity, the unworthiness he felt when it came to you, or anyone else really. Diving into these feelings would lead them into a different conversation, one he wasn't sure he could handle, much less right now, and so he opts for the simpler answer.

“She didn't mention the bond once, she was ignoring it – if she even felt it at all,” he leans back and runs his hand through his hair, “my feelings were muddled the whole time I was there so I can't even know for sure.”

“You didn't tell her you were her mate either,” Rhysand reminds him.

Would things have gone a different way if he had? Or would you simply let him down as soon as he brought it up? Did it even matter? Would he be able to survive your rejection?

“She told you the temple showed itself for the people who needed it, right?” Azriel looks up at his brother, nodding. “Seems to me like you need to talk to her.”

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

You're not entirely sure what one is supposed to do after finding their Mother-blessed mate, and then proceed to send them on their way, possibly to never return. Not being able to get even a wink of sleep and spending the next few hours searching your library for any information on mating bonds seems appropriate though. There wasn't anything written in these books that you didn't already know about mating bonds: extreme attraction, a connection of emotions, feelings of primal possessiveness, the possibility for a love unlike any other.

There was no mention of the silver string you'd seen tied around both of your hearts, but the bond seems to manifest itself differently for everyone, and the magic your Goddess has poured into you was peculiar to say the least. Even Azriel might not have seen or felt it manifest the same way you did, but that doesn't mean it's not there. Denying it is out of the picture at this point.

The section about rejecting mating bonds caught your eye, but it quickly soured your mood. It seems there's no way to reject a mating bond and hope for life to ever go back to normal, especially for males as they would always feel like a part of them was missing. The book didn't exactly go into depth on the topic – there can't be too many other idiots thinking of turning down a mating bond, – so it didn't mention anything about just ignoring the bond. Would it just fizzle out until you could barely feel anything, or would it end up with the same effects of a rejected bond? As much as you knew this bond was doomed from the start, you didn't want to convict Azriel to a lifetime of madness, or even worse. It was bad enough he couldn't get a mate out of you.

After your mood deflates at the bleak prospect for your future, and the sun has already replaced the moon, you decide to indulge yourself for a moment. Since your encounter had been so brief, you ended up not finding out too much about Azriel aside from his name, and, as much as there was a voice nagging at the back of your mind, warning you that trying to learn more about your mate won't help you in successfully ignoring the bond at all, you're still only fae and curiosity got the best of you. How could you not be curious about your mate?

You'd heard stories about a shadowsinger working under the High Lord of the Night Court, but you didn't know if that was him as the High Lord had changed since then. If it was though, this would make him a truly important figure for this court, country even. You can't help but feel proud at the thought.

Your search for information on Shadowsingers soon proves fruitless, not being able to find much else aside from their abilities to communicate with shadows, rare as they are, so you move onto researching winged fae instead, in hopes of finding out what kind he is. There are various kinds, this much you know, but for some reason you've always imagined them all to have feathered wings. It's at times like these that you wished you had traveled more when you were younger.

Most of the day is spent like this, tucked into your favorite sofa in the library, the temple refilling your teacup and offering you little snacks as you search for any bit of information that could help you understand who Azriel is. A tug on your silver string finally pulls you out of the moment, body immediately going into alert as you feel your mate nearing. These feelings are entirely too abstract, there's no way of knowing if he's flying over the temple or simply a bit closer than he had been an hour prior - which could still be halfway across the Night Court. You'd also found in one of the books that mates could attempt reaching out to each other through the bond, the descriptions of the resulting feeling appearing quite similar to what you were experiencing at the moment.

You try to ignore it and carry on reading your book on wings - the irony not lost on you - but the string keeps tugging incessantly, even more firmly now, and you suddenly get the feeling that he was actually close, possibly even trying to reach out at the same time or following the bond.

Had he come looking for you? You told him the temple kept itself hidden unless the visitor needed something from within these walls and the Goddess allowed them passage. He had to know that he wouldn't find anything more than trees and shrubs in this forest, the temple keeping itself out of sight even if he had been here before and knew its exact location, such were the wards around this place.

Putting away the book and sitting up on the sofa, you wonder what you should do. There's no way of communicating with him, and you won't be able to let him in, no matter how desperate you were since that decision was not your own to make. Your role was to protect the temple, but you knew he wasn't a threat either. Were you to simply stand by and watch while he looked for you, only to be met with silence? The Mother seems to have a twisted sense of humor.

As you were preparing yourself mentally for what you assumed were going to be a tough few hours, you feel the unmistakable sign of someone passing through the barrier, prompting you to stand up and winnow straight to the main hall, opening the front doors in a rush, only to find a familiar dark figure waiting for you.

If you weren't witnessing it with your own eyes, if your heart wasn't beating at that rhythm that seemed reserved solely for him, you wouldn't have believed this to be true. Your feet move of their own accord, carrying you towards your mate as he stands at the entrance to your temple, a contagiously hopeful expression on his face as he watches you move to him.

“How did you get here?” You can't help the dumb question, not being able to understand what is happening in the midst of your surprise and every other feeling that came with his presence.

“I needed to talk to you,” he explains in a breathy tone, smiling down at you like he wasn't sure if this would have worked either, if he was actually going to be able to find you.

The Goddess showed him the way, if She hadn't he wouldn't have been able to find you, even with any shadowsinger trick he might have had up his sleeve. Could She know he's your mate? She had been the one to warn you of his arrival the day before after all.

You're still trying to gather your thoughts when he continues, skipping over all the pleasantries as if he couldn't keep the words in any longer.

“You're my mate.”

Hearing the word coming from his mouth makes your heart soar, a tingling feeling spreading over your entire body as if lava was now running through your veins. This was not a confession you needed to hear, but the bond welcomed it anyway.

“I know,” you admit, a bittersweet smile overtaking your features.

“Are you unhappy with it? With me?” You quickly shake your head in denial, but he continues before you have the chance to explain, “I would understand it if you were, and if you don't want the bond, I won't force you to accept it. I promise I will never hurt you.”

Is this what has been going through his mind since he left? That you wouldn't want him? The thought makes you swallow, you've only wanted to spare him as much pain as you could, not hurt him more yourself.

“Azriel, that's not it. There's nothing wrong with you, or any reason I wouldn't want you as my mate” you assure, “but I swore my life to protecting this temple, and I can't physically leave the grounds. That's not fair to you.”

He doesn't seem to be surprised at the information, meaning he was probably already aware of your predicament and decided to come talk to you anyway, but he still takes a moment before speaking, thinking through his words as he watches you, shadows coming up to whisper in his ear.

“Did you make a vow of chastity or anything similar?” The question takes you aback for a second, heat rising to your cheeks at the implication.

“Not explicitly, no,” you clear your throat, “but it's hard to keep a relationship when you're bound to a temple hidden in the middle of nowhere. I can't even walk past the first few steps.”

Azriel looks behind him at your words. If he took a few steps down, you wouldn't be able to follow him, a different set of wards keeping you within these grounds. When he meets your eyes once again, you add carefully, “This isn't a relationship worth pursuing when we both know it won't end up working.”

“I think I would like to decide that for myself,” he says as he takes a small step closer to you, “if you'll allow me.”

“What?”

“I would like to come visit you whenever I can, and get to know you. This… I don't think we should throw away a chance like this so lightly, not without at least giving it a try.” He closes most of the distance between you, raising up his hand and holding his palm up for you to take, “Even if it never becomes a romantic relationship, or if it ends up breaking both of our hearts, I don't want to be the person who didn't fight for something so special in fear of getting hurt.”

You watch his hand as you mull over his words. It's not as if he doesn't make sense in his argument, you're more than aware how downright stupid it is to throw away a mating bond when some people spend their whole lives searching for one, but you're scared, for both of your sakes. Letting your mate into your life, even without accepting the bond, knowing that there will come a time when you will want more from it than what you're capable of having would not simply hurt you both, but change both of your lives beyond recognition – it could even kill you. And yet, staring into his hopeful eyes every little reason why you should be turning him down, walking back into the temple and closing the door behind you, seems to escape your mind.

When his hand lowers slightly, wings drooping as well, possibly taking your hesitation as denial, your hand moves to hold his instinctively, surprising the both of you. You had been kidding yourself into thinking you could fight a bond like this. The smallest sign that your mate would leave and your body moved to keep him by your side. Your decision has been made. You can only hope the Gods will have mercy on you.

“I would like to get to know you too, Azriel,” you say, squeezing his hand in yours as a blinding smile takes over his devastatingly handsome face. “As long as the Goddess shows you the way to the temple, I don't see anything wrong with… talking.”

He lets his thumb run over the back of your hand before raising it to his lips, sending your heart into disarray as he leaves a soft kiss on your skin. A flush covers the tip of his ears, and you catch a flash of the silver string connecting the both of you.

“Then I promise to come see you as often as I can.” He lets your hands fall between you two, fingers still intertwined as you stare at each other like fools. You catch yourself after a moment, thanking the Mother for living in this isolated mountain for once so no one could witness this.

“Do you want to come in? You must be tired after your flight,” you invite, letting go of his hand, missing the warmth of his skin immediately.

His gaze drops to your hand before meeting yours once again and nodding, following you inside into the main hall he had been in before. It looked different in the light of day, his hazel eyes studying it once more.

“I didn't fly all the way here,” he starts, gaze still stuck on the stone covered walls, “I can travel through shadows, similarly to how most high fae can winnow.”

“Oh.” You watch as his shadows move lazily around him, coming up his legs. “Is that one of your shadowsinger abilities?”

“Yes.” You wanted to ask more, your earlier curiosity returning, but you find a conflicted expression when he meets your eyes, you can also feel it in your chest, and so you wait for him to decide if he wants to share it with you.

“I'm not high fae,” he admits.

“Right, the wings,” you let out, much too excitedly, as your eyes fall on the huge appendages on his back, “I've never met anyone with wings, and haven't even heard of featherless wings. I searched in the library for types of winged fae, but most of our collection is a bit outdated, and the Goddess was never too interested in those sorts of things so I couldn't find anything that fit your description.” Your mind finally catches up to your words then, eyes widening before falling to your hands as you play with your fingers, and add lamely, “I have a lot of time on my hands here, and I didn't think I'd see you again so…”

You dare a look at his face when his silence drags on too long, finding him watching you with a surprised expression, wide hazel eyes staring into your white ones. His shadows had crept up his neck once again - singing to him you suppose.

Azriel finally finds his words after another moment, your eyes not straying from his for a second, “I'm Illyrian,” he starts, studying your face carefully before continuing, “As far as I know, we're the only ones whose wings have no feathers.”

“Illyrian?”

“Have you heard of it?” He seems scared somehow, but you're not exactly sure why he would be. You try to remember where you've heard the word before, only taking you a moment to remember them as people who live in the mountains up in the north, and were part of the High Lord's army.

“Yes. I know they're people who live in the mountains, and fought in the war but I didn't even know you had wings,” you gesture to them, “I didn't get much of a chance to travel before I came to the temple, so I've never met any Illyrians.”

“That's all you've heard?” You nod slowly, eyebrows furrowing at his insistence. “Illyrians have an unfavorable reputation. The males train their whole lives to fight, and the females aren't regarded as much more than a means for procreation,” he explains further, “Some have started changing their ways, slowly, but most camps insist on their traditions, no matter how cruel. They- We just don't have a good reputation.”

You start understanding where he was getting at. Some fae had trouble opening their eyes to how the world was changing around them, choosing to remain willfully ignorant to the harm it brought those who were different from them, who they deemed as lesser. He was scared that, had you heard about whatever cruelty he's seen from his peers, you would judge him for it. You feel a little offended that he would think so lowly of you, but the truth is he doesn't know you at all, or you him.

“It's hard to outlive archaic traditions when we live for centuries. I wouldn't ever dream of passing judgment on an entire group of people for the beliefs some of its members insist on clinging onto,” you clasp your hands together behind your back, shrugging as you smile up at him, “and I might be biased, or even wrong, but I think you're very kind, Azriel. You came all the way here to help your friend, with no real proof that you'd find what you were looking for, and then you came back to ask permission to visit me, even when you thought I might not accept it. Cruel is the last word I'd use to describe you. I'd rather go with sweet.”

“Sweet?” He asks, a flush rising to his cheeks and a bashful smile finally erasing that conflicted expression off his face. “You think I'm sweet?” You hum in agreement, your grin growing so large it hurts your cheeks. “I'll have to let my mother know at last someone agrees with her.”

You let out a laugh, the image of a baby Azriel getting showered in praises from his mother entering your mind. You almost have trouble imagining him as a child, but you have no doubts he was more than sweet, adorable even, with his round cheeks and small wings.

“So…” You lean back on your heels, intertwining your hands behind your back. “Do you want me to show you around the temple?”

“I would love to,” he agrees with a blinding smile on his face.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader

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vrystalius · 4 months ago

Note

Hi, I’m not sure if this counts as NSFW but I was wondering if I could request how the Hashira would react to their wife asking them to check their breasts for lumps or something similar. Like their wife is paranoid and asks them for their opinion. Please and thank you. If you’re uncomfortable writing this then it’s okay to ignore this.

Check-Ups

(TW breast cancer/cancer)

You ask the hashira to check your breasts for any signs of cancer or any lumps. How will they react?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x fem!reader

(Mentioning of nsfw, non-sexual nudity)

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He’d eye you suspiciously at first. Are you kidding? Does Sanemi look like a qualified doctor to you? But then again, he’s quite familiar with your assets and how they feel. He’ll probably notice any changes and differences. So, he agreed to give you a small check-up.

Sanemi averted his eyes as you opened your robes up and removed your bra. He roughly palmed your breast and just stayed there for a couple seconds, staring at the wall next to him.

“Uhh, dear… you have to squeeze and move around a little.” “Hm? Oh. Yeah.”

He grumbled quietly while checking the one breast, then the other. Sanemi was awkwardly squeezing and feeling around, feeling nothing unusual. He was still not facing you, refusing to look either at your chest or your face to hide his flushed face. Sanemi knows that those kind of check-ups are important and that it’s not the first nor the last time he’ll be touching you like this (may it be inside or outside the bedroom), so he’ll have to get used to it. He’ll try to power through his without embarrassing himself…

“S’all good. Nothin’ weird, feels like usual. N-Normal, I mean. Y’know.”

Kyojuro Rengoku

He’d comply no hesitation! This is definitely something important and Kyojuro wants to make sure that you are doing good! He’ll keep his usual smile and avert his eyes respectfully when you undress partly for him and try to continue being respectful as he leans in a little closer.

Kyojuro is used to seeing your chest exposed during showers or in bed, but they still make him blush everytime he sees them anew.

His hand is steady and feels pleasantly warm wrapped around your breast like this. He squeezes your flesh gently while his brows furrow in concentration. Kyojuro looks kind of adorable when he’s so focused… if only his gaze wasn’t glued to your exposed chest.

“Mhm! I don’t feel anything, my love!”

He has a bright smile after finishing his inspection. He wouldn’t mind doing future check-ups like this, but he would like it even more if you get professional check-ups by someone like Shinobu. She knows what she is doing, while Kyojuro just tries to feel out if there is anything different about his favourite pillows by gently groping them.

“How about I talk to Shinobu tomorrow? You two can schedule regular check-ups if you are worried!”

Gyomei Himejima

He will do it happily for you. Gyomei wants you to be healthy and happy at all times, meaning if this eases your mind, he’ll of course do it. He’ll pray under his breath while listening to your robes slip off your shoulders. Your hand wrapping around his wrist is signalling to him that you are ready and that he can go ahead with the check-up now.

Gyomei’s eyes will close while his hand managed to cup almost all of your breast at once. His hand was carefully squeezing and pressing down with his fingers, checking for anything unfamiliar to him. He continued his prayers during the inspection, silent tears running down his face.

“I do not feel anything, my love.”

Gyomei has explored your body with his hands many times before, meaning he will notice any changes almost instantly. But he wasn’t feeling anything abnormal, so his tears slowly dried up. A soft smile rested on his face as Gyomei nodded silently. He is glad you trust him with this thing and hopes that you will come to him in the future as well.

“You did well, my pearl. Thank you for trusting me.”

Giyu Tomioka

What? Why are you asking him to do this? Are you suspecting you might have cancer? Do you think Giyu should be the one to determine that? Why do you put so much trust in him anyway?

After reassuring him that he is going to notice if there is anything wrong, Giyu stood across you, his eyes fixated on your chest as you slipped your robes aside to expose your naked chest to him. He will never get used to the sight of your chest and the way it makes him blush in the brightest crimson colour.

Giyu’d cup your chest awkwardly and just remain like that, glancing at your face for reassurance and guidance. You need to hold his wrists and guide him through this check-up. He doesn’t exactly know what he’s supposed to be looking for.

“Isn’t Shinobu more qualified for this? Or Mitsuri? They have… breasts. They know more.”

He was very unsure about all of this. Giyu’d feel so much better if you just went to Shinobu’s clinic and get a check-up there, but if you feel more comforted by him, he gets that as well.

Luckily, he found nothing unusual or special. Just that he might do this outside of these… check-ups. You feel really warm, your chest might be really good handwarmers.

“Would you… let me put my hands beneath your chest? For when I’m cold.”

💠

A little shorter than usual, hope you don’t mind! Thank you for being so respectful, I really appreciate it <3 Hope you enjoyed reading this! I have a lot of requests in my ask-box right now so I’ll try to work through them during the week. Hope you look forward to it!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough <3

Take care of yourselves! <3

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raguiras · 6 months ago

Text

POV: Deuce's very first kiss from his crush

(Click for better quality)

I'm finally officially introducing my Yuu/OC x canon/Yumeship here! (✿◕‿◕) Writing this post took me forever, but I'm super happy with it!

Reblogs are super appreciated hehehe

Please be kind & DO NOT take inspiration from this ship. ^^"

(While Allen isn't me, I'm calling them a Yumeship because he's based on my younger self/me when I first started playing TWST & because the ship gives me a ridiculous amount of comfort!)

Allen x Deuce (aka Spade of Storms) is my ultimate comfort ship and they mean a ton to me.

These two are best friends who become lovers and closely mirror each other. Deuce is the delinquent with rather bad self-control who tries to be a model student, while Allen is a former honor student who's now a very lowkey delinquent with stellar self-control and a mature attitude.

Due to the fact that Allen and Deuce are so similar and yet the opposite of each other, they're able to excellently understand and support the other, and they help each other accept themselves.

Their ship blog: @spade-of-storms (facts, drabbles & more est. May 2024)

Now why exactly are these two perfect for each other? Well...

LONG TEXT AHEAD!

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Deuce:

Allen supports Deuce with all his heart. Instead of believing that someone "as stupid and temperamental" as Deuce could never become an honor student, Allen fully believes in him and encourages him. In comparison to when other people say it, these words actually have an incredibly strong impact on Deuce and are believable to him because he knows that Allen has similar experiences and speaks from them.

Allen doesn't think that Deuce is stupid in the slightest and views him as genuinely smart. To Allen, intelligence isn't determined by grades or academic abilities, but by morals, attitude, logic, and willingness — all of which Deuce has.

Allen doesn't try to change Deuce. Rather than turning Deuce into a full-on honor student and role model, which he isn't by nature, Allen prefers for Deuce to stay true to himself and work towards his goal while not suppressing any aspect of who he is — Allen knows exactly that forcefully becoming someone you naturally aren't would cause more issues than it would fix. In order to assist Deuce with staying true to himself while working towards his desired self, Allen does several things:

Allen lets Deuce be his 100% authentic self when they're together. Deuce tries extremely hard to always be polite and serious in order to maintain his reputation and not resort to old habits, but Allen, being very impulsive and easily angered himself, knows just too well that suppressing one's feelings and true nature isn't the way to go. When they're together, Deuce can openly rant about topics, use insults towards the people who angered him, and show his emotions without having to worry about how others perceive him or about how it might mess up his reputation — Allen would never judge Deuce nor share his secrets with others. This way, Deuce can be himself without restraints while also maintaining the way he wants others to perceive him.

Allen allows Deuce to be a delinquent in a safe, harmless way. If Deuce ever feels like doing something forbidden without breaking rules or staining his reputation, Allen (a very lowkey delinquent) has just the ideas for him. This provides a comfortable space for Deuce to live out his tendencies without falling back into bad habits.

Allen is able to introduce Deuce to a wide range of healthy coping mechanisms that work for him. Allen is a much angrier person than Deuce and is equally impulsive, but has stellar self-control due to the methods he uses, and passes them down to Deuce. As a result, Deuce doesn't feel the need to immediately lash out at others anymore and manages to become calmer and much more mature, taking steps into his desired direction.

Allen helps Deuce channel his "negative traits" into positive/helpful ones. With Allen's assistance, methods, reassuring words and unique view on things, Deuce learns how to use the qualities that he used to hate about himself to his advantage. Suddenly Deuce's anger is no longer a hindrance, but a source of energy and motivation.

Allen admires the things Deuce hates about himself. While Deuce wishes he wasn't as hot-headed, Allen views it as an amazing trait and sees the passion and longing for justice behind Deuce's fiery attitude. Additionally, Allen is able to help Deuce see the positive side of these traits, and aids him in channelling them into something good to use to his advantage (see above).

Allen is the only person to fully get through to Deuce. Due to them essentially having the same experiences, opinions, wishes and morals, Deuce felt comfortable trusting Allen with every last bit of his heart (in comparison to other friends) — not to mention that the way Allen was able to help Deuce so intensely and actually talked to him the way he needed it also played a role! Allen has his way with words and knew exactly how to talk to Deuce from the beginning.

Deuce can genuinely open up about his self-esteem to Allen. It's been heavily hinted at in the game several times that Deuce thinks incredibly lowly of himself, but this topic is usually cut short and he doesn't talk about it further with the canon Yuu. With Allen, however, Deuce can open up all he wants to. He knows that Allen has similar experiences and struggles with self-worth related issues himself, therefore not only not judging Deuce, but also fully understanding him.

Allen perfectly understands Deuce's past. Having been feared, avoided and known to be a delinquent/bad kid himself, Allen even understands the details extremely well. Neither of the two ever had a proper friend until they met each other on their first day at NRC.

Allen successfully helps Deuce with his studies despite hating school. Seeing how Deuce needs help, Allen (the "gifted kid") gladly volunteers, even though he's no longer interested in class and has sworn to drop the "honor student" facade himself. Due to Allen's easy explanations, methods, photographic memory and capability to catch on quickly, Deuce actually manages to improve his test results by 1-2 grades.

Allen's study methods are unique, which helps Deuce & is necessary for him. Being a slow learner (I also hc him to have some sort of intellectual disability), Deuce requires rather unique approaches to topics. As Allen is well-versed with both studying and psychology and also keeps Deuce's exact issues in mind, he's able to perfectly tailor methods and mnemonic bridges that actually work out for Deuce.

Allen makes sure that Deuce's desire to be a model student is & stays healthy. A fair part of Allen's trauma stems from being an honor student himself and having unrealistically high expectations regarding grades and attitude shoved down his throat by everyone at school (including himself), so he pays a lot of attention that the same doesn't happen to Deuce.

Allen respects Deuce a ton. Not only is Deuce determined, passionate, loyal, honest and eager, but he has the same core values as Allen, too. In Allen's opinion, finding someone with these traits is not only rare, but immediately makes them endearing to him.

Allen is patient with Deuce. He understands that Deuce occasionally has a difficult time processing and understanding things, and he isn't bothered by it in the slightest. This means even more when you consider that Allen is generally a very impatient person and is only able to be patient with those he truly loves and trusts.

Allen fills Deuce in when he doesn't understand something. Due to Allen being able to catch on extremely quickly, he can immediately explain things and situations to Deuce, helping him out and allowing him to get everything right from the beginning.

Allen indirectly protects Deuce. Known for being intimidating (in a good way), quick-witted, sly and a skilled schemer, most people — including those who enjoy picking on Deuce — shy away from Allen and avoid getting in trouble with his friends.

Allen stops Deuce from getting into fights. Whenever Deuce is about to get into a fight anyway, Allen gently but sternly reminds him of both his goal and the healthier coping mechanisms.

Allen understands that Deuce dislikes being picked on. Allen, being a sensitive person, hates it himself, and he actively tells off everyone who dares to make fun of Deuce or call him "Loosey Deucey". At times, Allen even gets snappy because of the inappropriate nicknames or insults directed at Deuce.

Allen inspires Deuce. Him being skilled at a variety of things and just logical in general gives Deuce the motivation to achieve the same. Deuce doesn't compare himself to Allen, either, and views him as an inspiration. If Allen can control himself and get positive things out of his negative traits, so can Deuce, right?! Not to mention that Allen is extremely tough and pulls through no matter what despite his mental and physical state...

Allen's maturity subconsciously wears off on Deuce. Even outside of the fact that Allen helps him grow and improve a lot through all the ways mentioned before, Deuce sometimes also subconsciously copies his boyfriend's mature attitude or asks himself what Allen would do in certain situations.

Allen is an advisor to Deuce. Deuce struggles with planning ahead, and Allen — a big-time overthinker who's extremely competent at scheming — is able to assist him. As a result, Deuce makes less bad decisions.

Allen loves blastcycles. Deuce can rant about them to Allen for hours, and the two often go on blastcycle dates together. Nothing is more fun than clinging onto your partner while driving at full speed!

Allen values Deuce's company like no other. Deuce regularly feels like a nobody, and Allen takes that feeling from him due to how much he connects with him and likes having him around.

BONUS: Allen is not only beautiful but also has an incredibly strong personality, drive, and determination and hasn't given up despite everything that happened to him. Deuce is a massive simp and his humongous crush on Allen has always been obvious due to how Deuce just can't shut up about him.

Allen:

Deuce loves and accepts Allen's body. As we have seen through his interactions with Azul and Epel, Deuce is very protective of people who don't fit the norm, and Allen is another such person — an intersex boy who was bullied for his unconventional body. Deuce has not only sworn to protect Allen from any possible discrimination, but also loves his body dearly and thinks he's super hot.

Deuce gives Allen a sense of stability. Allen's life was all about short-lived fake joys and prevailing negativity prior to coming to Twisted Wonderland, which made him feel disconnected from many things and people and gave him the feeling that everything is temporary anyway. However, Deuce's fierce loyalty and the strength of their relationship prove Allen wrong — yes, there can indeed be things in life that last forever.

Deuce's utter affection warms Allen's empty heart. Allen was never loved by anyone but his parents, who he thinks only love him because he's their son. Other than that, he never experienced love, affection, ... or even mere friendship. He was alone... until he met Deuce, who he somehow immediately connected with. It was as if their friendship was predestined by the universe... and with every day, Deuce's affection for Allen only grew.

Deuce genuinely admires Allen. Seeing how Allen always does his best, works hard, has ambitions and aims to improve impresses Deuce a ton. This is extremely healing for Allen, whose efforts were never properly recognized or rewarded before and who thinks that he needs to perfect at everything in order to be "someone".

Deuce makes Allen feel useful and resourceful. Allen often believes that he has no worth and could never make a change for the better no matter how much he tries, but seeing just how much he's able to help Deuce with a wide range of things proves Allen wrong — he's indeed capable of a lot of things. Not to mention that Deuce even passes some of Allen's tips down to Epel!

Deuce's honesty is refreshing to Allen. After being lied to and tricked by about anyone Allen ever knew before coming to Twisted Wonderland, Deuce's natural honesty and loyalty are an unfamiliar but utterly wonderful experience for Allen.

Deuce makes Allen feel understood. Allen often believes that others would view him as a monster if they were aware of his secret anger and opinions, but Deuce shares many of them. These two can openly talk about their values together and Allen feels extremely understood because of it — a feeling he barely ever experiences with other people.

Deuce helps Allen enjoy the moment. While he has some overthinking tendencies himself, Deuce is much more spontaneous than Allen and tends to act more on impulse. As a result, he can show his ways to Allen, allowing the overthinker to finally relax and think about his problems a little less.

Deuce doesn't hesitate to stand up for Allen. The fact that Allen was bullied for something he can't change in the past saddens and angers Deuce, and he has sworn to himself that he'll always protect his boyfriend. If there should ever be another situation where Allen gets bullied, Deuce won't hesitate to absolutely throw hands — this is not being a bad person and picking fights, it's standing up for an innocent person whose life was ruined by malice. Deuce wouldn't regret it in the slightest anymore, especially since Allen has helped him learn than anger isn't a bad thing.

Deuce helps Allen with becoming a proper mage. When Allen first gains magic during the final quarter of the school year, he has absolutely no control over it and is partially even avoided due to being a "walking health hazard". Deuce, however, sees this as the perfect time to pay Allen back for helping him study theory and decides to assist Allen with practical things. Through Deuce's determination and belief in him, Allen is able to improve much quicker than he would've without Deuce's help.

BONUS: Deuce is the warmth and honesty that Allen needs in his life. The boy's mere presence lights up Allen's day and Deuce's careful physical affection makes him feel like the most cherished person in the universe.

What else is there to them? (examples)

Both are extremely close with their families.

Due to being so similar and sharing many personality traits, loving each other so deeply allowed them to realize that they can easily love and accept themselves, too.

Deuce's previous incarnation had a crush on Allen's, who died way too early. In this life, the regrets of the past are being fixed.

Allen's the brain, Deuce is the brawn.

They're both extremely cuddly with each other.

LOTS OF COMPLIMENTS (from both sides).

Deuce often gifts Allen plushies.

Allen and Deuce are basically inseparable by now.

If you hang out with Deuce, you have to suffer through at least one tiny ramble about Allen.

...and much more that can be found on @spade-of-storms!

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you like the art & ship and are looking forward to more of them! (✿◕‿◕)

EDIT: Please do not take inspiration from this ship. ;-;

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phntxm · 6 months ago

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} (newby) demon muzan, soft muzan?, arranged marriage, fiancée! reader, fem! reader, mention of bl00d, reader's face got cut

let's pretend that blo0d transfusion exists in haien period a/n; usually, I stick to writing headcanons and avoid posting scenarios because I worry it might not be good enough. however, I've chosen to take a chance this time so if there are any mistakes, please bear with me y-y wc : 1.2k

you never imagined that one day you would willingly sacrifice yourself to aid your sick fiancé, who barely acknowledged you

he was unkind. neither of you had agreed to this arranged marriage; it was solely the decision of his family, the Ubuyashiki clan, who couldn't bear the thought of their ailing son dying alone

at first, the situation was difficult, Muzan be believed having a wife wouldn't extend his life or be of any use. you tried your best, simply aiming to fulfill the marriage contract, we don't have to be in love

the arrangement benefited both clans. the Ubuyashiki clan could lessen their appearance of pity by providing a wife for their son, while your family could regain their lost wealth and noble status during their down in luck

and at the turning point, when he was injured and lost a lot amount of blood. neither his family nor yours offered to help him, they were afraid to give blood to someone like him. they're just hired a cheap doctor to care for him, you were the only one willing to give him your blood without hesitation

after that, he was more open to you

until the day the doctor's medicine was effective

but without knowing it, you were only happy for your fiancé to become healthy like normal people. you heard a nonsensical rumor about a demon attacking people at night, it must be a bear or wild animals..

" I am greatly rejoiced for thee, that thy health hath now become better " you said it as you started to sit beside him on the warmed tatami mat, gazing out at the garden beyond

" the physic hath wrought an unexpected efficacy upon me " he nodded in agreement, raising his arm and gently squeezing it to show the increased muscle and strength he now possessed

" I heard he was a thrifty physician, deemed unfit, yet he proved skilled to mend thee, I do delight exceedingly " as you mentioned this, making Muzan to reconsider his first encounter with the doctor. he couldn't believe he would successfully be healed, as the doctor was merely a cheap physician hired by his clan

" in speaking thereof, thou dost prove thyself useful to me " he turned his face towards you and smiled gently, a smile that could barely be called a smile

" I do greatly admire thy bravery " he said, his smile filled with pride and happiness, yet tinged with a sadistic undertone that sent shivers down your spine

his words left you stunned; you never expected a compliment from someone like him " my pleasure " you said as you bowed to him, It really makes you feel happy, yet it seems like god isn't kind to either of you

" yet unfortunately, I hope that one day thou and I may stroll together, now it is unwise to go abroad by night " you express how shameful it was for the chance of having a normal life with him to be interrupted by some kind of creature " folk do speak of a demon, that doth hunt people by night " you know he doesn't believe in anything silly like this, so the reaction he gave you afterward was not surprising

" demon.. tis the name by which they are called? " he chuckles softly, of course he would do that, you think, he's the man who- " art thou fearful of demons" his question caught you off guard. he doesn't mean it, does he?

sometimes he asks you strange questions, given that he has spent his entire life trapped in his own house. questions about the outside world grab his attention the most, so you didn't mind it, but that doesn't mean he would believe in such a fairy tale like this. you remain silent, not because you're trying to avoid his question, but as his voice shifts, growing more serious " in the night doth stalk a creature, feeding on flesh of men.. art thou afraid? " he looks at you, and you sense he already has an answer in mind. if you answer wrongly, you fear something bad might happen

" I do not believe in demons, tis but a wild beast " you answered while trying to hide the fear you felt, his question has indeed made the atmosphere awkward, you think

Muzan tilts his head slightly " is it so? what if... what if I be that demon? wouldst thou be afraid? " he seems to enjoy seeing you like that

" what do you mean? "

" thou hast heard my words. wouldst thou abandon me if I were that demon? even there is no chance of fleeing from me "

what on earth is he talking about? " I... " your words evoke a sense of fear and confusion, as he reaches his hand to gently touch your cheeks, his actions were so contrasting to what you felt; he touched you as if it were something fragile, yet not with the intention to protect, but to possess it, to do whatever he pleased with it

" what a pity. I do hold thee dear, and thou wilt surely prove useful unto me " you startled slightly; his hand felt so cold, almost as if he weren't human

" hast thou any final words? " you trembled, hearts beating fast, unsure if it was pure fear or excitement. you didn't feel the urge to run away; it was the same mix of emotions you felt when you first volunteered to give him your blood, the joy of helping someone you love, intertwined with the fear that death might be near, and you might not make it out alive " thou didst inquire if I fear demons? do I dread death? I would say, tis not that I lack fear, but the very thought of aiding thee doth making me to endure it " you're contemplating your feelings, realizing there's no right answer for him. in that moment, you didn't strategize on how to answer so he would spare your life, instead, you acted on what your heart felt, just being honest, something you wouldn't regret later— though there might be no 'later,' because you're going to die right here at his hands " I once gave thee my blood, I do not fear to give thee my blood again, it gladdens my heart that I may lend thee aid once more " you close your eyes, gently touching his hand on your cheek, cherishing this fleeting moment of happiness for the last time " take it all as thou dost desire " you said, as you turned to place a soft kiss on his palm, that even if he's not used to or doesn't like being touched, what's the worst that could happen? he's gonna kill me? then- well..

Muzan paused, stunned by your response. then, a sadistic smile slowly spread across his face once more, his eyes gleaming with a disturbing intensity. as he began to grow out his sharp, menacing nails, pressed them firmly against your cheek, and sliced your cheeks until they were red and bleeding " it would be discourteous of me to not return what I have received, I shall give thee my blood also " it was a gift from the demon king, leaving you unsure whether it should be seen as a blessing or a curse. nevertheless, if this is what god desires, then so be it

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sorcerous-caress · 1 year ago

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could u possibly do how companions would treat tav's kid? like in a situation where a tav had a child/younger sibling or smth. fluffy fluff all around

You know how sometimes fate aligns so that your past deeds follow you into the future? This request gave me a flashback to my old writing blog.

Companions reacting to Tav's younger sibling/child

[ bg3, fluff, several characters ]

[ Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Karlach, Laezel, Shadowheart, Minthara ]

Astarion

What on earth is that little gremlin following you around? Just make sure that no one feeds it after midnight.

To say he's not a fan is a huge underestimation, he signed up for a camp full of hot available single adults and not a daycare. How are you expecting him to be his usual self when a pg13 warning keeps chasing you around.

Whatever, he will just ignore the goblin-like thing. He can do that, how hard can it be?

Well...actually now that some time has passed, he has to admit that the little menace is really funny at times. Especially that one time he stole Gale's books to build a book throne in the mud, Astarion swears he could still hear Gale's heart shattering into a million pieces, what a fond memory.

What? Pfff, no, he isn't getting attached. He just...well was doing some trick with a coin to make it disappear, and the kid happened to be nearby, Astarion definitely wasn't trying to impress them.

Now the thing about picking locks is that it's better to teach them young. Think of all the small places, nooks, and crannies they could fit into, bringing them some loot and actually be useful.

And since he's already bothering to do it, might as well teach them how to wield a bow. Properly wield a bow, not like how Wyll does it no, it requires elegance only an elf is capable of and Astarion is the most expert here to train them.

Did you see that? They're actually getting better. He genuinely is impressed, so much that he doesn't register the smile of pride adorning his face, the excitement in his voice as he boasts about the kid's accomplishment and how they're clearly superior than the other crotch goblins.

Gale

Ah, children, truly the future of mankind. Humanity's hope and the ones who will carry the torch after us.

He is almost giddy at the idea of having an impressionable youth to teach, to steer and to spoil rotten like he was spoiled.

Will show off magic tricks nonchalantly, he definitely has a hidden agenda in trying to make the kid a wizard. After all who is better than him, an arch wizard, to teach a new curious soul about all the wonders of the weave? No magic is too advanced, everything is possible with imagination.

If anything, kids have the best imagination, better than adults do. Which is the argument he uses when you ask him why your little one can shoot invisible fireballs now.

He would love to read to them, he has all kinds of stories about heros, past legends and fables that will guarantee them a safe and sound mind. A healthy mindest to nurture then into a good kind hearted adult.

Even when his books end up the subject of the kid's abuse kind of a lot- Gale is nothing but forgiving. Cut the kid some slack, if anything, Gale is happy they are safe and sound.

Would make special meals for the kid during dinner time a lot, bunny shaped carrot cuts or soup with a sparkly finish. He can even teach them some basic recipes, cooking is a very important life skill afterall.

Wyll

He is very experienced with kids. Feels a bit concerned for the fact they're at camp all alone and volunteers to stay behind and watch them. And no, unlike the previous two, he doesn't try to indoctrinate them into elf supremacy culture nor tactically manipulate them into being a wizard.

He just lets them be a kid, plays ball with them. Shows them how to play fetch with Scratch. Overall a very cool and laid back older brother.

He definitely takes great inspiration from his own dad and how he raised him, offers the same advice and wisdom his own father shared with him.

Shows the kid that life is so much more than it seems, nothing is truly evil and nothing is truly good. Both can be found in each other. He treats the kid with respect and doesn't pull the older than you card unless necessary.

He wants them to establish their own being, their own character and carve their own path in life.

Definitely does whatever he can to keep Mizora away from the child. That devil cannot be trusted, and even while he knows the kid is smart, he doesn't want to leave it up to fate whether Mizora tricks them into a pact or not.

Halsin

The kid adores him and all of his animal forms. Halsin indulges them a lot and changes into whatever wildshape they deem the coolest that day to play with them.

When he looks at them, he sees a seed for the future. It requires care and nurturing to grow properly, and he is willing to make this world a better place for them.

Shows them how important nature is, how we should take care of the world just like it takes care of us. How we should respect the plants and the animals, how every meal is a gift and should be treasured.

He has a very fatherly vibe to him. It comes naturally, and he doesn't even have to try. Whenever the kid feels overwhelmed or scared, it's Halsin they run up and hide behind.

Also, when they get in trouble too because they know Halsin will take their side.

And he knows the kid is using him sometimes, but he lets it slide. Takes the kid on walks a lot, helps them make friends with the nearby cat that sometimes frequents the camp.

There is a potted plant they're both growing, a small shared project between the two of them. Halsin adores the look of happiness the kid has whenever the plant sprouts a new leaf and grows taller.

They don't have to know that it was Halsin's powers keeping it alive throughout the frequent changing of their camp and consistent travelling.

Karlach

Little soldier is what she calls them.

Picks them up a lot after her engine gets fixed, let's them ride on her shoulder and hang on to her horns sometimes. Even indulges them and pretends she is a robot that they're controlling.

Sorry Astarion, she can't stop hugging you. She's a simple robot, and the overlord kid on her shoulders demanded it.

While Wyll is the cool yet dependable older sibling, Karlach is the even cooler one who's very chaotic and would help the kid in their pranks and cause trouble a lot.

Ah, what the hell kid, sure you can pick up her great flaming axe and swing it around. Actually she will use a nearby table as a shield and you should definitely try throwing it at her.

It's not that she means to be a bad influence, it's just that she is extremely indulgent. That it circles back to being a bad influence without meaning to.

They want to only eat sweets for dinner and all day? Hell yeah little soldier she wants the same. They want to do it for the rest of eternity and never eat vegetables again? Sign her the fuck up because she is ride or die.

Oh yeah, your kid/sibling can swear now, thanks to her, you're welcome.

Jaheira

Is the one feeding them the vegetables, after telling Karlach off and putting her in the timeout corner.

It's not enough that she has a gaggle of children back home, but you had to bring another one with you to the camp? Oh cub, you and your own little cub are going to be the death of her.

If Halsin thinks he can hide them behind his bear form he better think twice, Jaheira isn't below putting the both of them in line if she has to.

She demands respect, and the kid definitely ends up giving it to her, begrudgingly or not. They understand she is the true form of authority in this camp and that they better do what she says and finish their chores.

They definitely see her as a grandma. She is secretly touched if they call her that but acts unaffected. She just doesn't want to let the kid down. She has to be strict because medicine never tastes sweet.

They remind her of her own kids backhome sometimes, she does get homesick a lot more with them around.

Shadowheart

No, she isn't emo. No, she isn't goth either. What is this kid talking about? They better know that worship of lady Shar is very sacred and not a passing phase she will grow out of.

You know how kids are overly curious and always ask these intrusive questions? Shadowheart is a magnet for that.

They just go up to her ,unannounced, and tell her about the recent camp news. She sips on her wine and gives the kid a glass of grape juice while they gossip.

Yes, she is a half elf. No, she is still as capable as an elf.

Wait, what did Astarion say about her? Really? Well, kid, thanks for being a snitch now. If you'd excuse her, she has urgent business to take care of.

She sees them and wonder if this is how her childhood was supposed to be like, if this is what she was missing out on all her life. Sometimes she can't help the burning envy at the back of her throat as she watches them be showered with love and care for simply existing.

But she doesn't let the bitterness get to her, not with how the kid looks at her in awe and admiration. She vows to be at least a decent example and not disappoint them.

Laezel

If left unattended, she will start a boot camp. Come one kid, get down, and give her 40 push-ups now.

What? She is just looking out for them. How else are they supposed to join the battlefield if they have no upper body strength?

Yes, the battlefield, why do you ask? Of course, she wants them in the front lines eventually. War is the perfect environment to raise a child, to make them strong and fast. You were very smart for bringing them here with you, she has to admit.

Bah, she scoofs at Karlach and Astarion's ways. It is a danger hazard at best. The kid needs to start with training equipment and not actual weapons. Her companions' lack of braincells does surprise her sometimes.

Well...she also does mention the fact that for them to graduate, they have to actually murder someone from the camp. You know, like how she murdered half her classmates when she was still in training.

She actually...does a good job at training them safely, she evaluates their weakness and strengths and gives them advice based on it on how to improve. She looks out for their well-being and shows them the most efficient way to end a fight.

But she's only joking? Right? Right???

Uh....did anyone see Gale??

Minthara

To put it in the nicest way possible, they are terrfied of her.

She thinks it's good because any sane person should be afraid of her. Frankly, she'd be concerned for a possibility of brain damage if they weren't.

They avoid her, and she barely pats an eye over it.

Although she was always the first to act whenever they were in danger, completely beheading the enemy with her sword before they could touch a hair on the kid. Still she doesn't care for the fact the child is drenched in blood and just saw someone get murdered.

She thinks they should get over it. The sooner, the better. Life is full of murder and blood, you'd be only dooming them if you don't let them see things for how they really are.

Drow culture for raising their children is very brutal, most of them die young and even the ones who do make it alive, don't live as long as the surface elves do.

Each drow carries deep scars from childhood, both on body and mind. Minthara wasn't the exception.

She tolerates your young out of respect for you. She tolerates what she deems as disobedience and disrespect from them.

You're not sure if they'll ever stop fearing her, but you also know that you can trust her to be there for them. To not hesitate a second in saving their flesh no matter what the cost is.

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ryebread0605 · 28 days ago

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Hi!!! OMG HI I JUST WANTED TO SAY I REALLY LIKE UR WORK

And like

I wanted to request something!! (if ur ok with it! If u aren't taking requests rn or if u hav writers block, don't worry, I can wait and I don't mind!)

So basically my request is rough sex with lilia after something went wrong in his potion class and accidentally made a super duper strong aphrodisiac?

Btw, if it isn't too much, could it be fem reader?

Thank you for reading, and I hope you have a nice day ahead!! Remember to stay hydrated and stay healthy!

Awww thank you anon! I love hearing that people like these silly stories I write! And of course I can!

Just a warning, this will contain degradation as well as very public sex (and implications of spreading videos of said sex)

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Between gasps and cries you tried your best to make your broken mind remember what had led to your current situation.

It was the same as any normal alchemy class, you having to wrangle the little fuzzball of a partner you had been paired up with as he continually tried to knock things off the table. Sure, he may deny himself to be a cat, but Grim was more catlike than even the cat beastman.

And unfortunately, that meant he liked to cause chaos, even accidentally.

All it took was one wrong paw swipe and suddenly the healing potion you were meant to make turned an entrancing pink color, the smell going from pine to rose. The second Crewel noticed the smell, he tried to usher the other students out, but it was too late.

You see, someone else had also picked up on the smell.

And that’s how you ended up where you were now, bent over a desk with your uniform no more than mere ribbons. Your breasts bounced every time Lilia thrust into your sopping cunt, one of his hands holding your hands behind your back while the other tightly grasped your hair, forcing you to look at your fellow classmates who watched in shock and, for some, arousal, at the scene before them.

“Such a nasty little slut,” he began whispering in your ear, “letting me fuck you like this? In front of everyone? Disgusting.” You could do nothing but moan more in response. He was right, you were disgusting for enjoying this. But god it felt good to be disgusting.

His words, and thrusts, only got rougher as he made sure everyone could hear him now, “look at you, a brainless little toy. All you can do is moan, you’re not good for anything else, are you? No, you’re only good to be a source of relief for me and me alone. These people should feel lucky to be allowed to watch.”

You could feel your eyes roll back as he hit that one spot deep inside you, his smirk growing at that as he easily lifted you and held you by the underside of your knees, slamming you down onto his cock over and over again as all you could do was moan and beg for more. You were completely at his mercy, not even caring about the cameras now recording you nor the fact these people watching you would soon spread the word about how much of a whore you were.

In fact, you slowly felt yourself realize you quite liked being his whore.

Just as you thought this, a wave of white hit you as your orgasm ran through your body, moans as loud as can be and everyone being able to see your fluids coating Lilia’s dick. Despite that, Lilia did not stop his brutal pace. Only a few moments after you, he came as well. The hot cum painted your walls white, some dripping out of your cunt as he pulled out, letting everyone see your now wrecked hole.

With a smirk, Lilia laid you on your back over another students desk,

“Oh my dear, we are only getting started~”

#disney twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #twisted wonderland x fem reader #lilia x reader #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge

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derangederensimp · 1 year ago

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Your Roommate Toji

Jujutsu Kaisen Smut

Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

CW: Masturbation, Sadism, Masochism, Oral Fem receiving, Virginity Loss, Healthy Age Gap (Toji is his mid 30s and me being the author and write the stories based on me, I’m 22 so) daddy kink, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Biting, Hickeys and whatever I missed.

🔞 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. WE ARE NOT HAVING A REPEAT OF WATTPAD

A thank you to @poohbea for making the Toji Gif 🥴

“H-harder please go harder” you moaned, tossing your head back into your pillows. The vibrator buzzing inside as you fantasized your roommate in it’s place instead your cheeks burned with embarrassment at your desperation. Right when you were about to finish you heard the jangling of keys and shoes being kicked off hitting the floorboards, instantly turning off your toy and tossing it to the side. You hear heavy footsteps, you think they are walking past but then your door swung right open. There stood your roommate. Luckily you were under the covers and now clothed again after pulling your pants on. A mistake was not having enough time to put your vibrator back in your nightstand. There the man stood, his black t-shirt couldn’t have been tighter as he hung in the doorway. His face was wearing that grin you always hated but the curve of his lip showcased the scar so beautifully.

“Toji what the fuck, knock!” you scolded. “No” he bluntly said before walking into your room and plopping onto your bed, he was dangerously close to your toy and you hoped he wouldn’t somehow trigger it on somehow. “Why should I knock if you are alone all the time y/n?”

Toji knew that most of your nights you spent alone and knocking wasn’t really needed. Nor did you ever ask him to knock before so he knew something was up. He didn't need to worry about his innocent roommate sleeping around and inviting random men into his house. Laying his head into his hand he stared at you squinting his eyes at you although he had a few drinks in him he knew his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Being an experienced man he knew that smell well, you were turned on, just what were you doing before he got home. He smirked at the thought before chuckling to himself

All those nights he’d lay in his bed, cock in hand pumping his fist furiously imagining it was your hand instead of his rough calloused palm. Lusting over what your moans would sound like if they were caused by him instead of your damn vibrator. Why wouldn’t you just ask him to fuck you he’d think to himself almost making him want to ge out of bed and angerly pound on your door and ask why. Show you what you’d sound like with him between your thighs instead.

He was sobering up but knew he could play the part of being more tipsy to see what you would say to his request. Every other time he attempted to hit on you or get you to fuck him you’d brush him off but now that you were horny would you reject him now? If you rejected him then he could pretend the next day nothing happened. Of course his ego would be a bit bruised but nothing a night out couldn’t fix.

“Y/nnn” he dragged out your name while he laid on his side. He finally caught on to your eye movements shifting from him to a spot on your bed that his arm was getting close to. “Seems like it wasn’t a successful night” you said trying to grab his attention. Whenever Toji would go out drinking with his friends he’d always come back bragging about fucking some chick before he left the bar but little did you know he was bluffing. Ever since you moved in he cut that shit out, he knew one way or another you two would hit it off and maybe have some fun together if that’s what you wanted or that he’d make you his if that's what you desired.

“I just want to be between your thighs y/n.”

Your eyes shot open wide at what you just heard, sitting up straighter in bed you went to speak but he interrupted you.

“This thing couldn’t please you now could it” his large hand grabbed the toy on top of the covers before his thumb switched it on. Your face felt like it was burning as your mattress vibrated. You felt like your body couldn’t move as he switched it up a notch making it vibrate on the highest setting “is this the setting you use when you think of me y/n? You look so cute when you blush, why are you embarrassed? You don’t think I hear you late at night with my name on your tongue? You know all you had to do was ask.” There it was that grin again but this time his eyes were half lidded, pupils blown black like he was eyeing his prey ready to jump you.

But he didn’t touch you, he stayed right there just his hand on your vibrator waiting for your response. You couldn’t tell if you were just having one of those very vivid dreams but the sound of your vibrator shutting off and the feeling of your bed getting lighter snapped you out of your trance. Looking up he was heading for the door with his hands tucked into his pockets. Getting up you stumbled over your feet slightly but was able to grab onto his shirt stopping him in his tracks “I took your silence as a no y/n”

“Y-you didn’t give me enough time to process all that you said. You’ve never spoken to me like that before let alone have I ever had a man speak to me that way before..” you tightened your grip on his shirt not letting go. “Oh so the men you sleep with must be boring huh?” Toji tried to take a step forward but now your body was pressed against his back. He could feel your breasts beautifully pressed on him, making his cock stir to life in his pants.

“Y/n” his low voice called your named.

His muscles felt so nice in your hands as you softly ran them on the back of his arms slowly feeling around each curvature, your brain taking note of how he let out a sigh when your nails accidentally grazed his skin a little hard. “I haven’t slept with anyone before Toji, I just use the vibrator” you say as close as you can get to his ear while standing on your tippy toes dragging your hand down his neck before going flat on your feet again. His fists clenched in his pockets as his cock pulsated in his pants. Thinking to himself that it was perfect, his roomate really was this innocent woman he painted her out to be and with her permission he could make her his. “Fuck, would you like that to change Sweetheart?”

“Please” you breathed out, your tone sounding so needy. He was quick to turn around, looking at you up and down. He couldn't help but grin at your face and how you tried to avoid looking at him. Grabbing your chin and bringing his face down to yours he kissed your lips putting his palm on your cheek as his other hand rested on your hip walking you backwards to your bed till your knees hit your mattress. The warmth of his palm on your skin could make you melt. His kiss only became more heated when he slipped his tongue into your mouth lifting you up onto your bed and caging your body beneath him. When he finally pulled away a string of saliva still connected the two of you.

He slid his hand up your shirt groping your breast in his hand squeezing it. He was glad you weren’t wearing a bra. It was one less thing he had to take off of you “I can go slower if you need me too” he said in between peppering your neck with kisses. “More” you softly moaned. His cock painfully pressed against his pants twitching begging to be let loose, biting his inner cheek he knew he needed to hold himself back at least for your first time. He bit down on your neck leaving teeth marks behind, your fingers dug into his shoulders making him groan. “Did you like that sweetheart?”

All you could do was nod your head, your brain was short circuiting trying to keep up with the fact that your roommates lips were on your neck, his teeth left marks on you, and hands were feeling you up.

Next to go was your shirt he lifted it up over your head tossing it to the side, he couldn’t help but say fuck at your breasts, the way they bounced when he pushed them around made his head spin. Taking them into his hands he kissed from your neck down, taking a nipple into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it made you take a fistful of his hair and cry out his name. Filling Toji’s fantasy of hearing you moan his name but he couldn’t wait till he was pounding into you to hear you cry it out instead.

His other hand tweaked the other nipple making you squirm beneath him. He looked up at you with his mouth still clasped to your nipple before letting it go with a pop sound “too much? I haven’t even gotten started yet” He teased. Switching to the other nipple to sucked on it a few times before he kissed down your stomach, stopping at a few places to leave hickeys and bite marks to hear your whines before he got to your shorts.

These shorts drove him fucking crazy, they barely covered your ass and you would wear these while he had his friends over. Toji would often have to go to his room for a few minutes to pump one out after seeing you bend over exposing your entire ass to him by accident and how you’d act like he didn’t see a damn thing. But now he has the pleasure of finally taking them off of you.

Before he could, your legs shut on him. He managed to part your legs a little bit for him to get a peek at your face “y/n comeon open up, I want to get a taste. You’ll let daddy taste his sweet girl won’t you?” He wanted to try out how you’d respond to calling himself Daddy and he wasn’t expecting to see your pupils full black with lust and your hand now resting on his head. “Now that’s a look I could get used to. Spread your legs. Now. I won’t ask again” he rubbed his hands up and down your thighs not breaking eye contact from you while you slowly spread your legs wide for him.

Toji liked the idea of corrupting you. You liked him being called daddy, you liked when he bit your neck leaving marks, pulling his hair, and clawing his back so inflicting pain as well. His mind was swirling with what else you could possibly be into but for now he’d stick with these not to overwhelm you.

“That’s Daddy’s Good Girl.” Toji praised, hooking his around your waistband and panties yanking them off in one swoop. He stared marveling at the sight of your soaked cunt, your juices flowing out of you and onto the plush of your ass. Grabbing your thighs he pulled you flush to his face, his tongue laying flat against you giving one first lick up before he went to attacking your clit with the tip of his tongue and his fingertips digging into your thighs.

Your hand going straight to his hair, taking a fistful of it as your head sank further into the pillow, a moan ripping through your throat as he started to suck on your clit, his eyes staring up at you in a hungry state as if he was asking you for more. Letting go of your clit with a pop sound he put his thumb at your clit rubbing circles into it as his tongue licked at your cunt, slowly putting it inside when your walls squeezed making Toji groan. He couldn’t wait to feel you on his cock. His other hand reaching up to your breast playing it in his palm before he tweaked your nipple. Your moans growing louder and louder either each movement combined making your thighs begin to shake and back arch.

Lifting his mouth from your lips “you wanna cum?” He teased, slowing his thumb down to a stop and just applying pressure making you whine out his name. “Use your words sweetheart” he kept his eyes on you, biting his inner cheek wanting to go back to licking you clean he was addicted to your taste. “Yes please” … “please what?” Lifting his thumb up from your clit. Your cheeks burned at what you were about to say “please daddy” you whined. His smirk couldn’t be more devilish as he dipped his head back down between your legs and sucking on your clit, adding two fingers curling them to push your g spot repeatedly. Your cunt squeezing his fingers as you came, his tongue licking up every last drop before pulling his fingers out of you.

He stared at you while bringing his finger to his mouth licking them clean “good girl” he praised getting up from your thighs and hovering over your face with his. Pulling his head down to your lips you kissed him deeply huffing air as you were still catching your breath. Once you pulled away you tried to push on his shoulders to get him onto his back but his arms stayed where they were beside your head keeping him up. “Do you want to keep going y/n?” He asked softly. “Mhm, get on your back please”

“Sure” he couldn’t help but chuckle. He took his tight black shirt off tossing it on the ground before getting on his back while your hands went to unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants before you tried pulling them off of him, he got them the rest of the way off leaving him just in his briefs. Putting his arms behind his head he watched your fingers coast along his abs then around his waistband before you palmed his cock making him groan. Freeing his cock his underwear you couldn’t help but stare at his size giving it a few pumps watching how it twitched desperately in your hand. Kissing his abs and sucking on a spot to leave a mark you got closer and closer to his cock bringing your lips to the tip and giving it a small peck. Getting his pre on your lips and licking it off.

His hand twisting softly in your hair as your mouth sank on his cock, your tongue licking up his shaft as your doe eyes stayed on him the whole time. He was losing it each second he watched his length disappear into your throat “f-fuck y/n” his other hand rubbed at the side of your hallowed cheek. You sucked gently on the tip pumping his cock a few more times before he grabbed your chin “I can’t take this anymore. I need to be inside sweetheart”

“Impatient” you cooed, straddling him and rubbing your cunt against his cock making him moan your name. He was cursing in his mind at how wet you were and being so close to finally having you. Your lips were sucking on his neck leaving sweet marks behind, the way he could feel your teeth graze his skin drove him insane.

“Mmm I am. Let me take things from here” he whispered into your ear. Sitting up against your headboard he helped turn you around making you have your back on his check. Looking up you saw yourself in the mirror making you put your hands over your face. “Is this why you have your mirror set up here? What a naughty thing. Don’t be all shy now, take your hands off your face and keep your eyes open look at where we connect” His breath was hot on your neck as he kept your legs spread open and hovering above his cock. “You ready?” He stared at your reflection, his tip resting at your dripping entrance.

“Yes!” You cried out as he bit at your collarbone. Lifting you up in his arms he bent his knees planting his feet on your bed. Lowering you slowly on his cock his eyes didn’t move from the reflection of your cunt stretching around him. Hearing you whine snapped him out of the trace the image had on him stopping from putting his cock in all the way “your vibrator didn’t get you ready for my size huh sweetheart” he teased, his thumb rubbing at your thigh trying to sooth the possible pain you may be experiencing.

“S-shut up and just fuck me” you furrowed your eyebrows at him, finally getting annoyed with his teasing. “You’ll pay for that later” he gritted his teeth, slamming you down on his cock. Your eyes went wide crying out his name, hands clawing at his thighs making him chuckle. “You can’t take me yet but don’t worry I’ll get you there” he said, kissing the back of your neck gently before tucking his chin into the crook of your collarbone and neck.

Toji’s eyes were glued to your cunt and how it kept sucking his cock in with each thrust, occasionally looking up at your face in the mirror to see your mouth agape, dragged out moans escaping your throat when he’d quicken his pace to only shove you down on him in one fast movement. “You feel so good sweetheart” he groaned. The knot in your stomach kept tightening with each thrust, his cock hitting your g spot repeatedly. “T-toji I h-have to cum please” you cried, throwing your head back into his shoulder. “If you keep clenching me like that I’ll cum too” he said in between pants.

His hand leaving one of your thighs and going to your clit circling his thumb around it while pumping into you. His thighs were flexed using both his strength from his legs and pushing you down onto him to set a new rhythm. Toji’s breath was hot against your ear as he breathed into it, his eyes rolling back into his head at the feeling of your cunt how beautifully it squeezed him. “A-ah fuck y-y/n let me fill you up. You are on the pill aren’t you. Shit” Toji slowed his pace, huffing out air he was getting extremely close. Thinking to himself he should’ve asked this way in advance, you wore a fucked out expression which drove him absolutely insane.

He watched as your eyes were now at your cunt watching his thumb circling your clit, cheeks flushed and hair a mess your mouth parted. He felt like he was sitting at the edge of his seat “I want you to fill me up Toji” your voice sounded so seductive the way your eyes were hooded, staring back at him in the mirror. He couldn’t help but grin picking his back back up, balls slapping against your ass, his thumb going at a faster pace and adding more pressure as the tip of his cock kissed your g spot. A few more thrusts and you two were done for, your moans combining into a sweet melody. White hot cum painted your walls as your cunt clenched around him milking Toji of all he had.

Continuing to fuck himself into you he just wanted to keep hearing you cry out his name along with daddy over and over again, a ring of your mixed juices remained on his cock as it twitched to life again inside. Your eyes went teary at the feeling, overstimulated but loving the feeling of fullness and warmth. He held you still on his cock panting against your neck before pulling your chin over to peck your lips softly. His arms wrapping around your body, your chest heaving to relax. “You never answered if you are on the pill” his voice sounded deeper than it usually is.

“I am-“ before you could finish your sentence he flipped you over onto your back. Hovering over you, you looked down seeing his cock still leaking cum, it made your cunt clench around nothing letting out a sigh. “Good, I want to fill you up a few more time then” his eyes hooded leaning down to kiss your lips, your arms wrapping around him with a simple “please daddy” escaping through the kisses.

He knew he was in trouble now. You were just as addicted to him as he was to the idea of you. No more bringing his friends over not until he got his full of you and could bare the idea of other men looking at you, no more going out not when you would be sitting alone at home and possibly playing with yourself instead of having him fuck you? No way he shook his head. Toji was never going to let you out of his grasp now.

Masterlist | Part 2 | if you enjoyed this fic you should check out my other Toji fics but recommending next: Fitness Trainer Toji | Headcanons for Toji Fic Thursday. Needy Toji

Authors notes: pls I wasn’t a virgin when I was 22 or loss it this way but shiiiet if I lost it this way to Toji I wouldn’t have complained about my first time 😮‍💨

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mavnagerie · 10 months ago

Text

haunted

* why deny yourself the finer things in life like a good nap and some good pussy.

roronoa zoro x reader

summary: in mihawks castle, resides another girl aside from perona. spending her days in his library, writing and reading until she passes out just to do it all over again. this is until zoro comes along, finding himself in her presence in his free time

warnings: smut. porn with plot (too much plot) elven!afab!reader. nerdy girl x gruff guy. pnv, unprotected sex (guys cmon), cunnilingus, finger fucking, throat fucking all of the above. pet names/praise (princess and good girl). cumming inside…cum cum cum. multiple orgasms. ZOROS A FREAK! very slight dub con if you SQUINT.

authors note: requests are open

roronoa zoro never really found himself with free time when he was training. eye scar n all, he chose to overwork himself until he passed out. until he was bandaged up. until he felt like all of his joints would give way if he didn’t just stop. his free time lied in those long sleeps he’d take after being ripped open, forced to heal before he could continue fighting.

although, when his training was stunted by these deep cuts and wounds he would wander.

wandering the castle while unable to train was like walking through a maze, and he always did it to clear his head until he’d realize he was lost once again…yet coming across the extensive library proved to be like finding treasure at the end of a map.

zoros calloused hands gripped the knob of the door, peaking his head in, seeing dim candles light the giant room, a tower filled with books covered walls and glass stained windows, all surrounding a floor of stacked books and tables to study at.

while someone stood up against a wall, looking for a book, he has yet to see them. walking in, not addressing anyone to see if he was alone or not. his foots slid across the ground, impressed by the sheer amounts of colorfully bound books covering the walls. although, he was even more impressed at the idea that migawk had collected all of these in his lifetime.

Zoro believed there was this saying that noble swordsman must live by, and that was to indulge yourself in the things that make you happy. at least in healthy doses. happiness provides a clear mind, and a clear mind creates a great swordsman…

zoro was pondering as he walked, thinking of what had been said to him while he found himself staring up into the tower, staring at the peak it formed into from below. he barely made any noise but as he grazed his leg past a pile of books, one fell, clattering onto the ground.

“shit..” he whispers. he has still yet to see the person who calls out from the ledge that circles these walls

“hello?!” a voice calls down, causing zoro to jump, looking up at the walls scanning for a person. finally he sees you, as you’re standing there, your hands placed gently on the railing as you stare down at him, your hair falling around your face.

“hello?” he says, curious to see you here although he’s never seen you before.

“you must be zoro!!” you call from the ledge, smiling down at him, bringing your hand up to wave at him. “perona told me someone had been staying here.. but i haven’t been down since you got here..” a smile formed across your rosy cheeks. “give me a second”

zoro was stunned, not really knowing what to say as you made your way down the stairs, watching as your features became more clear to him. he was mostly shocked that there had been another person in the castle without him even knowing. but he really didn’t enjoy reading, nor was he amazing at reading books and fully comprehending them like nami or robin. he noticed your pointed ears almost immediately, long but covered mostly by your hair, earrings dangling from them.

as you approached him, with a soft smile on your face, you dipped to the ground in order to grab the book at his feet. “this is a book i’ve been studying recently, sorry it’s in your way..”

“oh no you’re.. you’re fine.” he cracked a smile, watching as you put the book onto the table next to him. standing up straight, you look him in the eyes, craning your head back just a bit to see him.

“oh wow you really do have green hair.” a soft laugh leaving you as you held your hand out. “im y/n… i live up here .. well i don’t live up in the library. i live in a room down the hall, but i spend most time up here… sorry im rambling. i get excited when i meet new people because i mostly spend my time with mihawk and perona.”

he took your hand, shaking it gently, watching as his hand engulfed yours. “i’m zoro.” he spoke sternly. “uh what do you do up here?” he said, letting your hand go, watching as it fell back to your side… then around your back… then to your hair.

“i write books for mihawk for him to read, at least that’s what i mostly do. im a writer, i write stories based off real events, i write about mihawk adventures, i write about all sorts of stuff but i just write.” he nods, thinking about how your work could possibly help him once he hears that you write for mihawk.

“does that mean his stories are in this library?” he asked, leaning back against the table, watching as you began to move around. cleaning up so he wasn’t in your clutter.

“yes actually! all of his books are on this lower level. some are small and some are big. i’ve written about his battle with you, actually.” a smile snuck on your face as you turned to him, watching as he flushed with a little embarrassment. “that was one of my favorites, you definitely are a brave swordsman.”

“do you think i could read some of them some time? i want to understand his fighting style a lot more or.. better i guess.” he said, turning around to see you across the room, putting books back and pulling more out.

“yes of course! why else would i write so much if it weren’t for people to read?” your smile grew as he asked the question, knowing you never wanted anything more for someone aside from perona and mihawk to read your writings.

you came back over to zoro, books up to your chin, all about mihawks fights, including the one about zoro himself.

“these are a few of them, they’re genuinely just biographies about his entire life. i’ve been writing for him for a long time now… some are wordy, some aren’t.” you shrugged as you sat them down, encouraging him to come closer. “um… i don’t mind if you take them back to your room but please do be kind to my books, i do work hard on them.”

he shot a gentle smile at you. “yes maam.” he grabbed one. in all of this excitement of meeting a new person, you didn’t really get a good look at him until now, but now mellowing out, you see his eye scar along with the muscles that protrude from his milky colored bandages that cover his torso and arms.

“um.. whenever you need a break… you should come up here.. it’s always quiet..” your mouth goes dry a little as you speak, suddenly gawking at him… at how gorgeous he simply is.

“i’ll remember that.” he smiles at you, his charming manner kicking your ass, feeling your stomach flip. “hopefully i won’t get lost on the way here next time.”

no way you’re actually attracted to this guy you’ve met maybe 15 minutes ago. but you hope that he’ll make his way back in the next few days, just to observe him again.

zoro smiled at you before leaving, you watched the scar across his chest wrinkle in his skin as he turned away. gently shutting the door behind him, your face turned pink, the tips of your ears feeling hot.

——————

sitting at one of the tables, writing, you can hear mihawks voice from down the hallway, speaking to himself as he approaches the library. gentle knocks sound on the door as you’re already standing to go meet him.

“hello mihawk!” you say as you lean against the door, opening it.

“hi, y/n… i have your dinner. i heard you met zoro today?” he said, handing you the plate of food. he or perona tend to bring you food rather than you all eating together. you were always busy in your own world and that’s why mihawk kept you around.

“i did! i gave him a few books to read… about you.. if that’s okay.”

“yes it is. he can afford to learn a thing or two from a different perspective.” a small smile cracked on his face, rare occurrence from the tall vampirish man.

“good!” you beamed when turning to leave. “is that all?” you said, pushing your face over your shoulder to see him again. he nodded, grabbing the handle to the door in order to shut it.

“have a good night y/n. come down once in a while, you don’t wanna become sick from being up here all alone.” he spoke as the door shut, hearing a thud and a click before you sat your food down, sitting down with it to eat.

as you ate the meal, you pondered zoro. you wondered what he did while he was here besides fighting. besides wondering how he can get better. but once you think about what he does… you think about him… his muscles and his hair, his face and his eye. his three earrings the brush up against his skin when he emotes with his hands. his scars are enamoring.

—————————

after that day, sleeping soundly in your bed at the idea of him, you didn’t see him for days. even wandering the halls outside of your library, you don’t see him. right now something aside from writing has peaked your interest and that’s the man that borrowed three books from you that he should bring back any time soon now buy just hasn’t.

“maybe he just doesn’t read fast.” you mumbled to yourself as you walk back up to the library, opening the door to see a tall man looking at the wall of books through the corridor of the library.

“zoro!” a smile formed across your face as a pep was pushed into your step while you walked, although wondering how he possibly slipped past you while you explored for him.

he slowly turned his head, seeing you, your hair put up while a dress flowed past your knees. it was dark, shifting between black and red depending on where it hugged your body. he got distracted, watching your hips maybe a little too long before he had realized you were walking right up to him.

as he fully turned around, a smile forms on his face. “hi, sorry it took me so long to come back up here. perona told me i could fight again so i did that and read my books before i slept.” his hand flew up to rub the back of his neck, showing off the muscle in his bicep as he did so, leaving your cheeks pink.

“it’s okay.. as long as they were brought back in one piece” your voice was cheery

“i left the books on the table over there. i wasn’t sure where they went and i knew you’d rather do it yourself then see me put it in the wrong place.”

you turned around, walking over to the table, observing the books. picking one up , you flipped through the pages making sure nothing had been ripped. staring at them, you suddenly felt a frame against your back, his body heat radiating off of him.

“i … uh..” his voice trailed off, not wanting to piss you off for messing up your book.. “one of the pages got ripped. just in the corner but it was just something that happened.” he watched as you picked up the book. reaching over your shoulder, his bicep pressing against your neck as you involuntarily shifted closer to him, pointing to the book. “this one.” he spoke softly.

“it’s okay” you whisper, opening the book to see the small tear in the middle. “oh this is an easy fix” you say turning to look up at him, a reassuring smile on your face. a smile forms on his face as well, realizing you wouldn’t be upset with him. your body was close to his, your face meeting his chest observing the golden chain around his neck. tilting your head back to look up at him, his cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink while he quickly realizes he needs to step away.

pulling his arm from your shoulder, he takes a swift step back. “do you want to see how i fix them?” you ask as you walk towards a table with materials skewed across it.

“i don’t care too much, but ill watch you do it just to see you..” he spoke just low enough for you to hear, watching the tips of your ears burn a little, trying to mask your reaction on your face with a small smile.

you tried to ignore the burning on your face as you stood over the table, opening the book, working at the rip to fix it. he leaned against the wall, across from you, watching you as your gentle hands cared for the book like it was sentient.

“you seem to care about these books a lot..” he spoke, watching as your fingertips pressed down on the tear as it was fused back together,

“i do. i spend a lot of time making them” he watched as your lips curled into a smile, thinking about how much you cared about what you do for mihawk. finishing up, you turn to zoro “do you want some more books about mihawk? or are you booked out.” tilting your head slightly, he watched you expose the soft skin of your neck unknowing to the thoughts that filled his head as he watched you.

“you can give me a few more.”

you nodded him into the direction of the case, walking over to it while he stood behind you, watching how light your steps were, how your dress held your legs while you walked.

he didn’t really know what had overcome him, but the fact that this beautiful woman had been in this castle the entire time he had been here and he didn’t know, was almost sickening to him. hes not a womanizer by any means but a man has his needs and knowing how much you stay up here alone, a woman does too. ‘i wonder if her and mihawk-‘ hes snapped out of his thoughts by your voice.

picking out a few more books, his thoughts had become more consuming, simply staring at your lips , your eyes, your chest while you spoke…he had to leave or he just couldn’t bare it anymore. where were these thoughts just a week ago.

———

exchanging a few works as zoro left, he pondered how on earth he could find an excuse to see you again, just to see your face, your hair, your body, whatever dress you’d wear… god why was he so whipped over you after only seeing you twice. making his way to his room, he soon let exhaustion fall over him as he fell into his bed, falling asleep.

zoro slept for what felt like hours until peronas voice crept into his ear, whispering about dinner until he shook awake, pushing her away. “PERONA.” he griped, sitting up, holding his head.

she giggled as she handed him two plates. “here! take one up to y/n” she smiled, knowing he had finally found out about her presence by her lack of being able to find him earlier in the day, knowing he must have found the library. his cheeks were a soft pink, perona pretended to not notice as she floated out of the room, leaving him to his own devices.

zoro had pulled on a clean shirt, weird behavior for him, before taking the food up the stairs and down the hallway. gently knocking on the door before entering, you had expected to see mihawk behind the door but was almost overjoyed to see zoro with two plates… was he going to eat with you?

when he had left earlier in the afternoon you sat there in the library, almost bringing yourself to tears as you giggled over him. no man had you giggle like that since you were a young teenager in your hometown and even then, nothing compared to watching his big hands hold your books or the way he reached his arm over your shoulder in order to point to the page. and that gold chain? or the way his arms flexed when you had scared him… or just the way he looked. his eye scar? oh my god you can’t even keep a straight train of thought.

“i hope you don’t mind me eating with you, perona urged me to” he kicked the door shut with his foot, walking up to the table you had been sitting at.

“no not at all! let me clean up the table” you smiled brightly at him, grabbing piles of papers and books, sitting them down on the ground and putting them in different piles, clearing off the table enough for you to eat, as the dim candles and moon light lit the room from above. you cleaned off a chair and allowed him to sit across from you. he sat a plate down in front of your seat, meeting you at his chair. “mihawks cooking is nothing like an old friend of mine, sanjis, but it certainly is good” he shrugged. “but i’m sure you knew that, you’ve been here longer than i have” a nervous laughter filled him, trying to ignore how close he was to you until you went to go sit back down.

“who’s this sanji guy?” you question as you sit down, bringing your knees into your chair, almost like mihawk had taught you nothing in regards to table manners.

“well uh.. i was a pirate but we were all sent to different places to train.. he was our cook.” he forked his food.

“oh that’s right! you’re apart of the straw hats. your captain is monkey d luffy” your eyes lit up thinking about the stories mihawk had told you about them.

“yeah! i’m assuming mihawk had told you about us?”

“yeah but not because you were coming here, it was from when he had fought you guys a year or so ago.. i heard you were only a small crew back then. i assume it’s grown?”

“a lot, i miss my friends but i care more about training right now. i promised to my captain that id become the strongest for him.” you watched the soft smile on his face grow, thinking about his memories with his friends. the two of you sat in silence for a bit while you both ate, gentle hums of joy filled the room. although mihawks food wasn’t the best zoros ever had, it was almost the best you had had. you hated when perona cooked because mihawks was just better.

the two of you had finished eating and your plates were stacked on the table, after eating you continued to talk, sitting on the couch in the nook of the library, in a similar area to where your repair table had been. sitting at opposite ends of the couch, facing each other, telling each other of your lives prior to living in the castle. he was all ears listening to your life, wanting to know where you came from and if everyone else had ears like yours.

over time the two of you grew closer together, both of you standing up occasionally and sitting down closer to the other. getting up to grab books and sitting back down to show him, until your thighs pressed against each others, your body flushed against his as his arm wrapped around your shoulder again, pointing to something in an old book.

you could smell him, assuming mihawk made him shower more regularly than he would on a boat, he smelled nice. over time you pressed your body even more so into his, feeling comfortable against his warm skin. his hand was draped over your chest, brushing against your breast as you both spoke. you tried to ignore it as you brought your knees to your chest, pressing your thighs together.

the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife, leaving you hopeless in order to escape the emotions you had felt seeing him earlier that day.

“zoro..” you spoke softly as you turned to look up at him. he had a fierce look on his face, obviously holding back when he peered down at you. “do you-“

your words were cut off as his hand held your cheek pulling you in, pressing his lips against yours. it almost felt like a movie as your eyes fluttered shut, accepting his kiss, letting the book in your hands fall to the ground. slowly, he pulled away, his eyes meeting yours as you opened yours again.

“do i what?” he mumbled.

“nevermind.” boldly, you grabbed his face again, pulling him into another kiss. turning your body more towards him. his hand feel from your chest down to your side, pulling you in. his strong hand capturing your waist.

two small kisses turned into longer sloppier kisses, his strong hands pulling you into his lap. the skirt of your dress riding up your legs onto your thighs as your legs sat on either side of his hips. his hands found the dip in your dresses back, his hands caressing the skin of your lower back. you could feel the callouses on his palms, rough against you as he pulled you in, pushing your hips up against his.

your arms were wrapped around his neck, your hands twirling his hair in your fingers. his soft hair felt so nice in your fingers and you could hear a soft moan leave his lips as you tugged at it every so often.

slowly, his lips moved down your to your neck, placing kisses across your skin before gently biting down on a place near the side of your neck so you could cover it with your hair, sucking your skin between his teeth. he moaned at the taste of your perfume. pulling away, he soothed the ache against your skin with his tongue before moving around your neck again.

“zoro…” his name fell from your lips as he urged your hips into his, using his pinkies to press into the dips of your ass. he pulled away, looking down at you, your face flushed while your hips ground up against his impatiently. soon you felt his hands grope your ass before picking you up. “put your legs around my waste” he spoke as you locked your feet behind his back, holding onto his neck while he stood. he carried you over to one of the tables, sitting you down on the edge. leaning down over you, he pulled you into a kiss again, his hands coming up to the straps of your dress.

“is this okay?” he mumbles sweetly. a soft sound of assurance leaves you as he pulls the straps of your dress down, exposing your bare breasts, nipples pebbling under the cold air of the room. he guided your arms out from under the straps, letting your dress fall past your belly. “can you lay back baby?” he spoke against your lips, his calloused hands rubbing down your back, guiding you to lay down, his other hand gently holding your thigh as your legs wrapped around his waist.

laying you down, his lips moved from yours slowly down to your chest, kissing along your skin until he met your breast. kissing one of your breasts, taking the other into his hand. taking your nipple into his mouth, he gently sucked on it before soothing the ache with his tongue. he pulled your body close to his, his thigh rubbing against your cunt below the skirt of your dress. glancing up at you, watching as your head tilted back, a soft moan leaving your lips. he pinched your other nipple with his free hand before switching spots until he was satisfied with the moans pouring from your lips.

he kissed down your stomach, gently biting at your soft skin, eliciting soft whimpers from you. “z-zoro…” your voice was weak but he looked up, his eyes meeting yours.

“what’s wrong?” he says, his chin resting on your stomach.

“can you pull my dress up from my hips, not down? i don’t want it to get messed up.” he noticed your cheeks were pink, he thought you were just so cute.

“yes maam..” he smiled. “is it okay if i take it all the way off?” he watched as you nod, pushing you up onto the table just a little more with his thigh, causing a moan to leave your lips. a smirk flashing across his face before he finds the hem of your dress, pulling it up. you sat up just a little in order for him to pull it over your arms. “good girl.” he smiles as he neglects the dress to the floor.

He looked down at you as if you were his prey and he were about to tear you apart, being deprived for so many years of good pussy. he not only needed to fuck someone, but from the second he saw you, he yearned for it to be you. your panties were lacy and cute, making him want to cherish them longer. he observed the damp spot near your core, bringing his hands down to your thighs, pressing his thumb against your covered pussy, unwarranted causing you to buck your hips up into his hand with a choked moan.

“sorry, maybe got a bit excited” he pulled his hand away, causing you to whine even more but this time in frustration.

“its okay. just please touch me, do what you want with me… please” his eyes met yours, watching as you pleaded for him.

“you don’t need to beg, baby.” he smiled, leaning over you to kiss you again, his thumb finding your clit above the fabric of your panties. “you just need to say the word and i’ll give you whatever you want..” his tongue pressed against your lips, urging for entry to your mouth as he teased your cunt. he pushed your panties aside, rubbing his fingers through your folds, searching your body to know what makes you tick. finding your clit with his mouth against yours he captures your moans. you could feel your pussy throbbing for him, soothed by the feeling of his thumb rubbing your clit at a pleasant pace. his fingers found your hole, teasing entry before slowly pushing one of his fingers in. he pulled his lips away so he could hear the sweetness of your voice, looking down at you as you unfolded on his fingers.

slowly he began to push his fingers into you, over time growing more anxious and pushing in a second. your back arched off the table, feeling as he scissored his fingers inside of you, his thumb rubbing greedily over your clit. he watched as you got closer, listening to how his name fell off of your lips.

“zoro… fuck i’m so close..” you whined, your hands reaching up to find his free arm. you gripped his bicep before he found your hand with his, holding it gently, squeezing it as you came close to your orgasm.

“come on baby, cum on my fingers.. that’s right” he soothes you with his voice, bringing you over the edge, your vision going blurry as he fucks his fingers into you through your orgasm, slowing down as your moans quiet. “good girl” his voice was low as he pulls your fingers out, bringing them to his lips, licking them clean before leaning over you to kiss you again, tasting yourself on his tongue. “you taste so good” he mumbled, feeling his cock throb in his pants.

zoro stood up straight again, standing over you, as he pulled his shirt off, discarding it like the dress he pulled off of you. he looked down at your messy panties, he found his fingers in the band of them, pulling them off of your wet cunt. you were watching him as he did work on you, watching the curves of his scar and how they dipped into the crevices of his abdomen, wanting to lick up the entirety of his stomach to his chest just to feel that scar.

“your pussy is so wet” he mumbled as he stared down at it, his thumb pulling your lips apart, watching as it throbs for him. “i’m gonna eat you out” he says blankly before getting on his knees, not even giving you much of an option before his nose is pressed against your clit, causing your head to fall back against the table, feeling his greedy tongue between your lips. your hand flew to your mouth as he wrapped his lips around your swollen clit, his tongue pressed flat against it before lapping at it like a thirsty dog.

his name fell from your lips, your voice growing louder as the hand over your mouth muffled the noise. zoro pulled away “don’t do that” he said looking up at you, he brought his arm up in an attempt to grab your elbow. “i wanna hear you.” with his hand reaching out, you put your hand in his. he guided your hand to his hair, encouraging you to pull his hair rather than covering your sweet moans. “good girl”

he pressed his face back up against your cunt, still sensitive from your last orgasm, you were struggling to keep your hips against the table while he licked at your clit, his fingers teasing your hole. your fingers tightened in his mint green hair causing him to moan against your pussy, the vibrations sending you into a frenzy. all he did was give and give.

zoro moved back down to your hole, his tongue teasing you before pushing in, tasting you entirely. his hand pressed against your abdomen, his thumb placed perfectly on your clit, rubbing gentle circles into it, baring down when he wanted you to pull his hair again. he wanted to chant his praises, calling you his good girl and telling you what a perfect princess you were but he was drunk off the taste of your pussy, fucking his tongue into your dripping cunt.

you were chasing another orgasm, he could feel it in the way you tensed up, as your moans grew louder and your grip on his hair turned harder. “oh my god.. zoro. fuck zoro i’m gonna…” your words trailed off, struggling to form a decent sentence while he fucked his tongue into you. he looked up to you the best he could, watching as you unfolded against his tongue, shaking as you came again. loud curses leaving your lips while your juices flooded his tongue. he continued to eat you out, throwing you over the edge, continuing while your thighs pressed against his head, urging him to stop overstimulating you. tears formed in your eyes until he stopped. pressing a soft kiss against your clit and pulling your legs off of his head, he stood up again, leaning over you to kiss you once more.

“was that good?” he asked, finding your hand and intertwining your fingers.

“yeah it was so good” you sighed, with a love drunk smile, staring up at him. you could feel his hard on as he leaned against your leg.

“come here, we’re gonna go back over to the couch. i’m sure you’re tired of this hard ass table.” he pulled you by the arm and you sat up, his hand finding the dip of your ass, pulling you into his arms, carrying you over to the couch to flop you right down on it. he was still wearing his darned pants but being right down in front of his crotch, you could see that he was almost painfully hard.. and painfully big in his pants.

you sat up, your hand finding his hardon, rubbing him through his pants causing a short moan to leave his lips, almost like it was unexpected. “whatcha doing there princess?” he asks, watching as you palmed at his hardon, your eyes meeting his.

“not much..” you smiled up at him almost innocently. he threw his head back, another groan leaving him. you watched as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. your thighs rubbed together as you stirred the pleasure that brewed in his lower abdomen. “can you please take your pants off for me..” you asked, watching as he looked down at you, he was almost a little speechless as he nodded. you had been so submissive that he enjoyed you taking the reigns even if it was just for a second. he loved being of service, but it’s nice to have your dick sucked once in a while.

as he pulled off his pants, his boxers came with it, standing in front of you. his cheeks were red watching as you were stunned. it was tan with a curve to it, thick with perfect veins along the side.. god why were you observing his cock like it was a masterpiece in a museum?? you noticed how his minty green hair trailed from his belly to the base of his cock. “damn” you mumbled before your hand found the tip of his cock, gently rubbing the head before your thumb presses against the very tip, causing him let out an almost guttural groan. “fuck princess..” he grumbled while you rubbed his pre cum around the tip, and down the base with your soft fingers. your lips were suddenly against the tip, kissing it before your tongue teased him, leaving him almost helpless while he stood in front of you. you kitten licked the tip before taking it into your mouth, not going very far but just enough to elicit those sweet moans from his lips.

you pulled off of his cock with a slight pop, before you had gone down and licked the entire bottom side of his cock, from the base to the tip, causing him to shake a little before you spit in your hand, allowing it to slide down his cock perfectly while you took the tip back between your soft lips. he couldn’t handle all the teasing tho, he was becoming just a little sexually frustrated as you tore him apart with your ministrations. “god.. please stop teasing baby..” he spoke between those deep groans and moans that were music to your ears. your pussy was drenched again by this point while you took him deeper into your mouth, allowing your hand to handle what you couldn’t.

his moans fell from his lips, loud and uneven, while his hand found your hair, intertwining his fingers with your soft locks. “yes baby..” he whined as he tugged at your hair, causing you to moan around his cock. “fuck i can’t take this anymore.” he whines, using his hand to push your head further down on his cock. you didn’t protest, you just put your free hand against his bare hip, using it as a method to telling him to stop when it became too much.

while it was nice to be a tease, being fucked by him is just ten times better. he began to fuck his cock into your mouth, pushing into your throat, being obnoxiously intrusive. you moaned loudly around his cock while he pulled your hair into his fist. your other hand found his hip as well, holding onto him while he let go, his moans pouring from his mouth. “fuck baby fuck fuck fuck..” he cursed, knowing he’d cum soon.

“tell me baby.. on your chest or in your mouth..” he said as he pulled you off his cock, allowing you to briefly catch your breath, tears in your eyes. through heavy pants you struggle to speak clearly

“mouth” you look up at him, all fucked out, and he feels his dick twitch seeing you like this. you watch as it jolts up a little, feeling your mouth water for the want of his cock again. he used his hand to pull your lips apart, pressing his thumb against your tongue before pushing his cock back into your mouth, his hand intertwining with your hair again. he lets out a moan as his cock fills your mouth, slowly thrusting into your face until he loses himself, fucking your throat, chanting your name until your nose is pushed up again the base of his cock, his cum pouring down your throat. your name falls from his lips, loud and proud as he pumps his cum into you, slowly letting you go, easing himself out of you so you could breathe again.

“i’m sorry..” he pants, looking down at you, he holds your chin, wiping away the spit that rolled down the sides of your mouth. “god you’re so cute” he watches as your lips curl up into a smile, enjoying the praise. he wipes your tears away and finally gets down to your level, kissing you again. it was soft and kind, gentle even. something so brash against the brutal throat fucking that had just happened.

“you think you can take anymore?” he asked, looking down at your body, a sheen of sweat coating both of you . he watched as the gentle light of the room shone off of you, your hair a mess, tangled in your jewelry that decorated your body.

“yeah i think so” you smile, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for another kiss.

“good…” he smiles against your lips, putting his palms against your back, slowly laying you back down on the couch. “i need to fuck this pussy so bad” he whines, kissing down your neck, his hands feeling up your breasts to your legs. he finds his way back to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on them , tweaking the other with his free hand. you were getting deja vu from earlier but this time he was even more confident with his ministrations. your sensitivity causing you to moan even louder until he switched spots. he sucked on your nipples until he was satisfied, knowing you were wet and throbbing down below once again. his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing it as he pulled away from your chest, feeling his cock throbbing between his thick thighs. pre cum drips from his tip as he stares at his thumb rubbing over your pussy, he feels like he’s almost drooling. he notices you getting antsy, shaking against his hand, whining in desperation.

“zoro…” you whine his name, pushing your head back.

“what baby? what do you want. tell me, please” he says, stroking his cock with his free hand.

“fuck me zoro, please?” your remember what he says, not begging but rather asking kindly for him to fuck you.

“that’s a good girl..” his smile was devilish as he got closer, pushing his cock up against your pussy, pushing his length through your wet folds, teasing you. your moans are desperate as he rolls his hips against your. getting his cock wet, your pussy being enough lube for him to easily stretch you out.

he guided his tip between your folds, pressing against your entrance. taking his lip between his teeth, biting down in an anticipation. your hands curled up into fists as he slowly pushed in, your nails digging into your skin as he slowly pushed his cock into you. the two of you let out a guttural noise as his cock filled your tight wet pussy.

a long exasperated “Fuuuck” left his mouth as his head fell forward, watching as his cock entered you. he grabbed your leg, pushing it up onto his shoulder, wrapping your other leg around his waste. he had his knee propped up on the couch while his other stood on the ground, holding himself up. a strangled cry left your lips as he stretched you out, finally bottoming out inside of you, taking it slow so you could get used to the feeling of him inside of you.

“fuck it barely fits” he teased, clearly proud of himself and his own size. his hair residing at his base pressed up against your wet pussy. “you ready for me to move?”

you open your eyes, biting down on your lip, you nod. “mhm” you felt so small underneath him. you watched how he held your leg, squeezing your thigh while his other hand held your hip, holding you in place so he could fuck you.

slowly he moved his hips back, watching as his cock pulls out of you, and then he snaps his hips back in just a bit quicker. he’s a noisy guy, his moans are nothing but sweet to your ears but he feels like he could cum just listening to the moans you let fall from your lips, your voice echoing through the tall tower of the library. his name was music to his ears, encouraging him to fuck you even harder, his cock bullying your cervix while his veiny cock brushes over the spot that leaves you seeing stars.

“fuck zoro.. f-feels so good…” your voice is shaky as his thrusts become quicker and messier. with your leg still resting over his shoulder, he leans over you, finding a quicker pace in his thrusts. his balls slapping against your soft skin, creating a loud echo of moans and skin against skin for the books to hear.

“fuck you’re such a good girl.. princesss…” he chants praises to you, his voice deep and doused with pleasure. pet names poured from his lips as he fucked you like a dog in heat. your back was arched up, your chest rubbing up against his as he fucked into you, stretching your leg much further than you thought he would’ve. his mouth found yours again, your tongues fighting with each others while your moans turned into one big mess of noise. your hands found his back, nails digging into his skin, holding onto him like prey: he couldn’t focus on kissing you anymore, he pulled away, your saliva both stringing together, creating a mess as he continued to fuck you like he’d die if he wasn’t in your pussy.

“god damn princess.. fuck i’m gonna cum soon..”

“me too.. mhh zoro.. please cum inside of me..”

“yes baby.. whatever you ask for.” he kisses your cheek before his head falls next to yours, his moans landing right in your ear, yours to his. his thrusts became messy and uncoordinated as the two of you neared your orgasm. he continued to wildly fuck you until your nails bared so hard onto his skin he bled. you almost screamed out his name as your orgasm hit you like white lightning. your cunt, tight around him, left him chomping at the bit as he poured his cum into you. his cock as far into you as he could possibly get it, filling your womb with his hot, sticky cum.

his cock was so far into you, you were seeing stars even after coming down from your high, feeling him still inside of you, hard.

“fuck baby..” he moans into your ears, and when i say this man whines. “i need more..” he began to slowly thrust his cock into you again, leaving your overstimulated cunt throbbing around him.

“mhh zoro… take what you want, you deserve it” your words were music to his ears as he began to messily thrust into you again. he wanted to fuck his thick cum into you, he wanted to watch it pour out of your dumb little cunt.

“good girl..” he groans as he leans back, pulling your other leg underneath his shoulder pushing you into a mating press.

“zoro!” you yelp, a little shocked.

planting both of his arms above your shoulders onto the soft couch. “fuck i’m gonna fill you with this cum” he groans before he’s fucking you again, wildly like an animal who can’t contain itself. fuck he loves your pussy, he loves how wet it is, how tight and warm it is. and how it will only belong to him now. he’s so deep inside of you, fucking his warm cum into your womb. he needs you so bad. sitting up just a little, he slows down and looks down at your clit.

he drops a glob of his spit down on what he considers his property now.

“touch your clit for me, baby. use my spit.” he says as he crushes you again, watching you move your hand to rub that sensitive clit, easily bringing you close to another orgasm. he watches your face unfold, your moans fall from your lips as tears form in your eyes, so overstimulated. “yes princess.. i know you can cum again. milk my cock baby” he groans loudly as his balls slap against the meat of your ass. as his thrusts become sloppy again, he knows he’s about to cum a giant load into your needy pussy.

your moans grow louder, no longer are you forming coherent sentences as he continues to just brutally fuck his cock into you. “i’m gonna.. fuck zoro.. im…” your words are gone as you scream finding that rush of an orgasm you need now badly. as your cunt tightens around his thick cock, he can feel himself lose it as he fucks his hard cock into you just a few more times until he’s crushing you, spilling loads of cum into your hot cunt. your name falling from his lips in a loud groan.

he sat there, feeling comfort in your warm cunt but seeing how badly he had essentially tortured you and your little body.

“fuck…” he spoke gruffly. “are you okay?” he says, sitting up just a bit, watching you wince as his cock moves inside of you.

“y-yes..” you stutter, feeling your head spinning. he moves his hands to your face, gently wiping the spit away from your lips, kissing you. “i’m sorry if i hurt you, i got carried away..” he rubbed your cheek. you shook your head.

“no.. it was amazing. thank you..” a small giggle left you, watching his mood lighten up just a little.

“i’m gonna sit up and let your legs go.” he warned as he sat back up, putting his leg back down behind him for support. he rubbed your thighs as he gently placed your legs back down at his side. he looked down to see the white ring of cum around his cock where he had pulled out just a little. he was scared to pull his cock all the way out, not wanting you to yelp.

“is it okay if i pull out?” he looks down at you, seeing how cute you were being all fucked out and cock drunk.

“mhh.. yeah” you mumble, fatigue quickly falling over you.

that changed when you felt the sensation of him leaving your warm pussy, causing you to jolt up just a little bit, letting out a quick “fuck” as he pulled out. when he pulled out, he spread your legs apart, getting down closer to watch his cum pour out of you, biting his lip in satisfaction as it did so. he then pressed one last kiss to your clit before standing up.

he looked down at you , getting down on his knees so he could be face to face with you.

“just so we’re clear, your pussy belongs to me now…” he said , watching as your lips curled into a smile, reaching up and grabbing his head to pull him into a kiss.

“i know and that’s okay” you smile against his lips, kissing him once more, knowing you had a lot more long nights ahead of you while living with him

#roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa smut #zoro roronoa x you #one piece zoro #one piece imagine #one piece #roronoa zoro imagine #mavnagerie’s fic #one piece x reader #sanji is briefly mentioned #i’m scared this will flop so bad #the ending of this is messy #sorry #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut

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rainroses45 · 6 days ago

Text

If I see one more plant!

𖧧description: You happen to be pregnant with a certain angel's baby, and with great power comes great responsibility... so here is how your powers and hormones give the Winchesters several heart attack...enjoy? Castiel x Pregnant Fem! Reader 𖧧a/n: I am obsessed with poison ivy's powers and so I was like hmmmmm "I should write this" and I did (Not Edited) 𖧧song Inspo: Kiwi - Harry Styles 𖧧warning: uummm none that I know of except maybe that pregnant reader gets emotional a lot BUT CAN YOU BLAME HER SHE IS TRYING HER BEST

The first time your powers when haywire was at a small-town department store when you were four months pregnant. Nothing out of the ordinary, nor the usual places the Winchesters frequented, but after a long hunt, they all decided a little downtime wouldn’t hurt especially since they found out you were pregnant.

The Winchesters had all sorts of equipment-guns, knives, books, *cough cough* trauma- but booster seats, cribs, and diapers, not so much. So with that in mind, they didn't argue when you dragged them out to different department stores.

Sam was poking around the electronics section ( his computer screen was stuck on busty asian beauties. com again), Dean was trying on a ridiculous-looking novelty hat, and you were wandering the aisles, following a trail of pink and blue onesies, cute little shoes, and soft blankets.

You hadn’t been feeling emotional at all that morning—really, you hadn’t. The pregnancy was going well, the baby was healthy, and you had Castiel by your side. What could go wrong?

Then, you spotted it: a tiny pair of shoes. They were so small and cute, pink with little flowers on them. Your heart absolutely melted.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your eyes going wide. “They’re just… they’re so tiny! And adorable! Oh my god, what if… what if they… the baby wears them, and I'm having a little baby girl! Oh look they have them in blue too and—and… I just can’t handle this!”

Dean, who had been half-heartedly inspecting a display of bizarre looking mannequins, turned at the sound of your voice. “What the hell is going on over there?”

Before anyone could answer, you started tearing up. Big, dramatic, teary-eyed sobs as your emotions got the best of you. “It’s so cute! This is so cute! OMG why is everything here so cute?!”

Castiel, who had been silently standing by, watching the situation unfold, immediately stepped forward, his face softening in concern. “Y/N, sweetheart, it’s okay. Just… breathe. I understand the tiny items are cute.”

But it was too late for your boyfriend's soft words to soothe you. Your powers had already started to react to the uncontrollable emotions. Tiny flowers began sprouting from the ground beneath your feet. They were delicate little blooms—daisies, roses, violets—pushing through the cracked, textile floor. The flowers spread out around you, their sweet fragrance filling the air, and color overshadowing the cute clothing.

Dean, who had been watching you with a mix of confusion and curiosity, with a hint of amusement, quickly turned to Sam. “Okay, this I did not sign up for.”

Sam was trying to hold back his laughter, but when a single daisy bloomed in the middle of his shoe, he couldn’t help it. “Dude, you’re telling me you didn’t think this would happen? She’s practically the real life poison ivy!”

Dean shot Sam a glare. “Not the point, Sammy. We need to figure out how to fix this before we turn this store into the weirdest garden party ever.”

Meanwhile, while the boys were observing the weird scenario happening some people also were starting to notice. A lady in the aisle who was eyeing the chupones (I don't know what this is called in English sorry) next to you was giving you a curious look, unsure whether she should be worried or mental.

“Uh, hey, ma’am,” Dean said, stepping into her line of sight with a big grin. “Nothing to see here. Just, uh, a bit of… plant therapy going on.” He flashed a grin, trying to divert her attention.

The woman blinked at him, her eyes darting between Dean and the flowers. “Are you… sure? I mean how did the flowers appear out of no where? I mean isn't that a bit odd?”

Sam noticing his brother struggling with getting the lady away from the scene, stepped in, “Oh yeah, it’s totally normal. She’s just… you know, super into horticulture. All natural, totally organic stuff.”

“Yeah, you know,” Dean added with a wink, having no idea what the hell was horticulture was. “Just don’t touch the plants. Some of them bite- fuck." Dean cursed under his breath as he was too late catch his mistake.

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning if she’d accidentally stumbled into a strange dimension or if this was all just an elaborate joke. “I see…” She backed away slowly, nervously laughing while she looked around hoping to see a video camera or something.

Cas on the other hand was doing his best to calm you down. He crouched beside you, gently taking your hands in his, his gaze soft yet filled with concern.

“Y/N, sweetheart, listen to me,” he said in his steady, calming tone. “I know it’s overwhelming, but you need to control your breathing. Focus on me, okay?”

You wiped your tears, sniffling, still a little overwhelmed by the sheer cuteness of the tiny shoes. “But Cas… What if I mess up? What if I’m not a good mom? What if… what if the baby doesn’t like flowers?What if the baby doesn't like the shoes I get them? What if they don't like me? What if I-”

Castiel’s eyes softened even more as he took a deep breath, leaning forward to gently press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re already doing wonderfully. The baby will love whatever you give it—because it will have you. You’ll be perfect.”

You took a shaky breath, your tears subsiding as his words sank in. Slowly, you wiped your tears which seemed to be the same effect of brushing the flowers away from your feet, watching as they melted back into the ground, leaving behind only the faintest trace of green.

Dean and Sam returned to your side, looking almost relieved the situation was under control.

Dean let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Okay, that was fun… but if I ever see a store more than five feet away from a hunt again, I’m gonna have to rethink my life choices.”

Sam chuckled softly. “What, you don’t like shopping with us?”

“I don’t mind it,” Dean said with a grin, “but the next time I see any more flowers in this place, I’m throwing a fit.”

You managed a small laugh as you wiped your eyes, the overwhelming emotions still there but a little easier to manage now. “Thanks, guys. I think I’m okay now. But… seriously, I’m never going near baby shoes again.”

Castiel smiled at you, offering a hand to help you back up. “Perhaps we should just stick to something a bit more practical next time?”

You nodded, still feeling a little sheepish. “Yeah, maybe… like, I don’t know, diapers?”

Dean smirked. “I’m all for the diapers. Less flowers, more action.”

The second time it was a quiet morning, and the everyone had decided to take a much-needed break from hunting. After a long few weeks of tracking down monsters, a little downtime at a cozy diner seemed perfect. You, being six months pregnant, were very excited about food. And when you’d glanced at the menu and seen pancakes, you didn’t hold back. You ordered everything—pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, and just about every side dish they had to offer. You were starving. Nothing was going to get in your way between you and your maple syrup.

You slid into the booth with Dean and Sam, Castiel sitting beside you on the opposite end of the brothers. He did look a little out of place in the cozy diner with his trench coat still on, but so did a pregnant lady wearing a Bluey onesie, and two other guys in cowboy outfits.

The brothers were already halfway through their coffee, talking about the next hunt, but your mind was purely focused on the delicious serving of food coming your way.

Dean glanced at you with an amused grin. “You really going to eat all that, or is that just for show?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. “I’m pregnant, Dean. I feel like I just ordered an appetizer. Do not judge me.”

Sam laughed softly. “ Leave her alone Dean, she is carrying an angel's baby and a superpowered one at that. Let the girl eat whatever she wants."

Dean just shook his head. “Well, just don’t blame me when you can’t move after. I didn’t order the mountain of food.”

Just as you were about to playfully strangle Dean, the waitress brought over your huge order, but something was off. You had your eggs, you had your bacon, waffles, omelet, but something was missing. There was a stack of pancakes for Sam, a stack of pancakes for Dean, and a stack of pancakes for Cas— everyone got fluffy stack of pancakes except for you.

“Hey,” you said, frowning at the waitress. “Excuse me Miss, where are my pancakes?”

The waitress blinked, clearly flustered. “Oh! I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ll get them right out for you.” She hurried away not before giving you a smile.

You sighed, staring at your plate, which now had way too many waffles and not enough pancakes. You pouted slightly. “I really wanted those pancakes…”

Castiel, who had been silently observing, stood up with his usual determination. “I will go get them for you, my beloved Y/N.” He headed toward the counter before anyone could stop him, his eyes already focused on the task at hand.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Cas, relax. It’s not like it’s a big deal—”

But before he could finish his sentence, two women seated by the counter noticed Castiel, eyes widening as they took in his rugged, angelic demeanor. They exchanged a quick glance, their faces lighting up with interest.

One of them, bold and confident, immediately stood up and walked toward him. “Hey there, handsome,” she said, flashing a playful smile. “I couldn’t help but notice… you’re not from around here. What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Castiel, oblivious to the subtleties of anytype of human interactions, blinked in confusion. “I am simply retrieving pancakes for my girlfriend.”

The woman laughed, clearly not getting the hint. “Oh, you have a girlfriend? That’s cute." She dragged her freshly done nails over his chest. "But I bet she’d let you have a little fun, right?”

You, sitting back at the booth, started to feel that familiar irritation rise up, and your fingers twitched. Maybe a little too much.

Before you could stop it, the ground beneath you began to tremble slightly, and tiny cacti started sprouting from the floor, little spinky plants pushing up through the checkered text tiles and spreading outward. A few even shot out from the booth’s cushions, their thorns digging into the fabric around you.

Dean and Sam exchanged a panicked glance, both of them groaning in unison. “Not again,” Sam muttered, rubbing his temples.

Dean just sighed, glancing over at the growing cactus problem. “I swear, Cas better wrap this up before we turn this place into the weirdest garden party.... again!”

You were too far gone to notice their worried glances. Every little flirtatious giggle from the women sent your emotions spiraling, and more and more cacti grew—thick, spinky, sharp, cacti. There were even a few sprouting from nearby tables and counters, causing customers to take wide-eyed steps back.

The women, realizing that Castiel wasn’t giving them the attention they wanted, glanced around nervously. They tried to get a little closer to him, but he was still looking at them with that same confused expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a frown, “but I am in a committed relationship with my amazing, gorgeous girlfriend, and we are expecting a child together. I cannot- no I will not accept your advances because I find your lack of beauty and personality disgusting. So please let me return back to my girlfriend, or I will have to fry your face.”

The women blinked, their smiles faltering. “Oh… uh, I didn’t know you were expecting,” one of them said, her voice wavering. “Well, uh, congratulations, I guess… sorry to bother you.” They quickly backed away, clearly embarrassed, but your plant-related meltdown was far from over. A faint whispers of, "please don't kill us."

"Asshats." Cas muttered as he watched the two ladies walk away, patches of Cactus sticking out of their skin.

Dean and Sam rushed over to your side of the booth and tried calming you down. Sam immediately started pushing the closest cactus plant down into the ground. “Please, Y/N, just calm down! We’ll get your pancakes! We’ll get everything you want!”

Dean took the opposite approach, shoving a plate of his own pancakes toward you, trying to distract you. “Here! Just have mine! Pancakes! See? Everything’s fine!”

You looked at both of them, your eyes wide with irritation as another cactus popped up in the middle of the table. “I don’t want your pancakes, Dean! I want my own pancakes! I want my own boyfriend! I want my loyal boyfriend to bring me pancakes!”

More cacti began sprouting around the booth, some growing from the floor, while others were now tangled between the chairs. Sam was frantically trying to push them back down, his face a mix of exhaustion and exasperation. “Why is she always so persistent when it comes to the plants?! Why couldn’t she just shoot a man like the rest of us?!”

Dean held up his hands, trying to calm you down. “Okay, okay. No need to start a whole desert in here. Cas! Tell her we’re fine. Tell her you already turned down the STD whores!”

Castiel returned to the table, completely unaware of the level of destruction the plants had caused. He placed the pancakes in front of you, a serene smile on his face. “Here you go, beautiful. Your pancakes, I even got them with whip cream.” He placed a kiss on your head. "Would you like me to cut them up for you?"

You took a deep breath as you reached for your pancakes, but you couldn’t help but smile at him even as you felt like you were going to twist his guys inside and out. He’d turned the girls down. And so calmly, too. It was like it wasn’t even a second thought.

Dean and Sam were still working together to keep plants from growing into the booth’s walls. Sam was pushing one of the cacti down, while Dean was shoving another out the door, his eyes twitching with disbelief.

“Guys, I swear,” Dean muttered, “if I have to fight off one more cactus, I’m getting the hell out of here.”

“You’re lucky we’re not going to die from these plants,” Sam grumbled, attempting to swat at a rogue vine that had started climbing up a nearby window.

You laughed softly, the last of the cacti finally retracting as you calmed down. You were feeling better, but now the diner was definitely looking a lot more like a desert garden. “Sorry, guys. I just… I couldn’t help it.”

Castiel smiled down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “It’s alright, darling. I would never allow anyone to take my attention from you.”

You smiled, feeling a little sheepish. “Thanks, Cas. You really handled that well.”

Dean and Sam, clearly exhausted from the plant chaos, collapsed back into the booth with you, still eyeing the last few cacti with suspicion.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Dean said, eyeing the growing cactus garden with disbelief. “Next time, we’re sticking to delivery pizza, okay? No more pancakes, no more plants.”

The third time seemed to be no different. It was another quiet morning on the road. The Impala had made a pit stop at a gas station, and the Winchesters, along with Castiel, were inside grabbing snacks and supplies. You were trying to hold it together, but being six months pregnant made everything a little… well, more difficult. You’d been looking forward to getting out of the car and stretching your legs, but the moment you stepped out of the car, you felt the weight of your growing belly.

It had taken a toll on your body. With new stretch marks, and odd cramps and cravings, you didn’t expect to out grow your clothing so fast.

Inside the convenience store, you were eyeing some snacks when Sam, in his usual well-meaning but oblivious way, made the comment that would unintentionally set things off.

“Y/N,” Sam said, glancing up from the bag of chips he was holding, “I think you should get bigger pants or something. I mean, it might help you feel more comfortable, you know? I don’t want you to strain yourself or the baby.” He smiled, thinking the simple hardships of the beginning of motherhood would be appreciated by the soft comfort of jeggings.

You froze. The words hit you harder than Sam could’ve known. Of course, you were aware of your growing belly, but you weren’t expecting to be reminded of it so bluntly (it was no where close to being blunt). You gave him a tight smile, but inside, it stung.

Dean noticed the shift in your mood almost immediately. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice low and concerned.

But before Sam could even register the impact of his words, you felt the anger and hurt bubbling up inside you. The next thing anyone knew, thick vines began sprouting up around you, twisting and curling out from the ground, wrapping themselves tightly around Sam’s legs, his arms, and even his waist. He froze, eyes wide in shock as the plants continued to tighten around him.

“Y/N, what the hell?!” Sam gasped, struggling against the vines. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Dean stepped forward, panic rising in his voice. “No, no, not again—come on, Y/N, you gotta calm down.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a can of weed repellent, spraying it in the air in an attempt to keep the plants at bay. “I knew this would come in handy.”

But no matter how much Dean sprayed, the vines didn’t seem to back off. Sam was now fully encased in a web of thick, green vines that pulled tighter with every second, making it hard for him to move.

“Y/N, please—I didn’t mean it that way!” Sam was practically pleading now, his voice muffled by the plant growth surrounding him.

Dean, frantic and trying to get to you, turned to Castiel. “Cas, help! She’s gone full jungle, and Sam’s about to become plant food!”

Cas, who had been silently observing the whole thing with wide eyes, turned to you with a soft, comforting expression. “Aww, sweetheart, it’s okay. He didn’t mean to upset you.”

Dean shot Cas a look, as if to say, Are you kidding me right now?

“It’s not okay,” Dean snapped. “Cas, help me! We’re running out of weed repellent, and Sam is literally about to get swallowed by the vines!”

“Those are actually not weeds they are-“ “They could be dancing salsa beans for all I care help me!”

Castiel looked at Dean for a moment, before turning his attention back to you. He took a slow step toward you, his voice gentle. “Y/N, I know you’re upset, but it’s okay. Sam didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You were still angry, but hearing Cas’ calm tone seemed to ease the tension a little. The vines wrapped around Sam loosened, just slightly, but it was enough for him to gasp for air. “I swear, I didn’t mean anything by it, Y/N. Please… I just thought you might be more comfortable, that’s all. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings I’m so sorry.”

You glanced at Sam, then to Castiel, who was smiling softly at you. The reassurance in his voice had a calming effect, but the vines—now with a mind of their own—had a different idea. They snapped back at Sam one last time, tightening around his chest, almost as if to say, this is what happens when you mess with my girl.

Dean, now frantically spraying more weed repellent, hissed, “Cas, please do something! We’re losing Sam to the vines!”

Castiel stepped closer to you, his hand gently resting on your arm. “Y/N, honey, just breathe. Everything’s fine. Sam didn’t know how his words affected you.”

Dean, now out of repellent, was genuinely losing his patience. “Cas, seriously, do something! He’s gonna get tangled in the damn plants forever if you don’t!”

You took a deep breath, the vines finally relaxing around Sam, though he was still stuck. You raised an eyebrow at Dean’s frantic expression, your anger dissipating into something more mischievous.

“Oh sorry,” you said, your tone finally softening. “I’m sorry Sam, I just- I don’t know what came over me it’s been hard controlling everything you know?” The vines retreated slowly, leaving Sam tangled up in a few stray leaves, looking slightly defeated.

Dean let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Thank God. If I had to deal with you two and the plants much longer, I was about to set the whole diner on fire.”

Sam, now free of most of the vines, shot you a sheepish look. “No it’s my fault. Sorry, really. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. But I guess I should’ve worded that differently.”

You finally gave him a small smile, the tension breaking. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m sorry for letting my powers get the best out of me. It’s hard to tell wether it’s the baby or me who’s in control.”

Dean threw up his hands, looking exasperated. “It’s not okay! You almost turned this place into Jurassic Park! We can’t keep dealing with this every time you get upset!”

Cas, with his trademark calm demeanor, reached over to gently rub your back. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You just need to know it’s okay to express your feelings.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the comfort.

Dean rubbed his temples, clearly exhausted from the ordeal. “I swear, if I have to fight one more damn plant, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Don’t worry, Dean,” you said, laughing softly, “I think we’re done with the plants for now.”

Dean shot a glare at the nearest cactus sprout. “Yeah, well, let’s hope so.”

*Cue the meme*

Dean after not seeing a plant incident

“wow i haven’t stubbed my toe in 5 months” I said with joyous

(you go into labor and cause a whole rainforest)

I was then shot 57 times in the chest

#dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean winchester/reader #spn #fluff #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader #castiel #castiel x y/n #castiel x you #castiel x pregnant reader #lina writes #pregnant reader #posion ivy #i’m tired

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