#but all of them have two very strong lead and there are moments where i still got kind of bored | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daizedndconfused · 2 days ago

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You wouldn't happen to be open to doing a cole x reader where they are asked by wu to train the ninja (because there extremely flexible and skilled) and they end up beating all of them without using many weapons would you??? Mehehehe I love your writing and cole is so Under Appreciated (people should give him so more love!!) and you portray his character so well thank you thank you :3

new girl

a/n - hi lovely!! tysm for the request and kind words hello?!! also loved this request we love us a strong girl hahaha i kinda drew some inspo from our icon ty lee. this lowkey ended up being longer than i thought but SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG SOME RANDOM SICKNESS WAS KICKING MY ASS ALL WEEK??? but we’re getting better now hahaha (also totally agree give my boy cole some love he deserves it) anyways enjoy i hope i did your vision some justice honestly if you want me to make a pt 2 i sooo can with some more one on one moments

characters - cole x reader

type - fluff!!

warnings - just some mild violence in the form of sparring

synopsis - the ninja a relying too much on their elemental powers and master wu needs some help reminding them of what’s really important who better to teach them than you??

“Breathe,” your mother reminded you gently.

Easy for her to say, she wasn’t the one suspended in a middle-split between two rocks over a stream. Regardless, you did as she asked, feeling the air move in and out of your lungs and the sweat forming on your temple.

“The key is concentration–balance,” her voice came from the bank to your right.

Most of what she said you already knew having been doing this for years, but you didn’t mind.

In and out your breaths went, eyes closed, relying only on your hearing until you felt your mother’s presence hovering next to you.

Peaking your eyes open, she stood on a nearby rock smiling down at you.

“Very good,” she nodded, offering you a hand to help you up.

“Thank you,” you exhaled, stretching out your legs a bit after so long in your previous position.

Your mother smoothed your hair back before leading you across the stream and back onto the land where you promptly shoved on your shoes.

The two of you chatted beneath the warm sun and cool breeze all the way back to your house. Though even before entering, you heard voices coming from within.

You shared a look of confusion with your mother.

That was odd, your father should be the only one home at the moment.

You gently pushed the door open and followed the voices to your living room where you saw your father in a deep conversation with an older man.

“Wu!” Your mother chirped, rounding you to greet the stranger.

The old’s eyes crinkled as he smiled beneath his long wispy white beard. Your mother bowed slightly as a sign of respect, and you thought it only best to do the same.

Eventually, you all sat around the living room, each nursing a steaming cup of tea.

“What do we owe this visit?” Your mother asked kindly. Apparently your parents and Master Wu went way back. They learned all they knew from the man himself, which then trickled down to you.

Wu took a sip of tea before answering. “I wish to offer your daughter a job.”

All eyes moved to you.

A job? What kind of job?

Your back straightened slightly at all the attention. “Sir?”

Wu sighed wearily, “I have realized I may need more help than I currently have. Upon opening a tea shop, I have less and less time to teach my students.” He swirled his tea twice before his eyes set upon you. “Would you be open to helping out?”

“Oh, uh… your students are?” You trailed off.

“The ninja, dear,” your mother filled in gently.

Oh. The ninja? What could you possibly teach the ninja? Sure, martial arts was nothing new, and yeah you were trained in combat thanks to your father, but they had elemental powers for heaven's sake.

“I’m not sure how much help I could be,” you answered sheepishly.

“You do not need special abilities to teach,” Wu smiled. “And I fear the elements are why I am seeking this help in the first place. It appears my students are disregarding their training for their elemental powers.”

That made sense. Whenever you got frustrated while training with your father he always reminded you you didn’t need flashy powers to be strong. Because while they may be useful, there’s always a chance they can vanish, and then what?

Eventually you made up your mind. “Okay, I’ll do it.” You quickly looked to your parents, “If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course,” your mother wrapped her arms around you. “We know you’re in safe hands with Wu. Just promise you’ll call?”

“Of course,” you assured her as your father also joined in on saying goodbye.

Before long you were packed with enough things to last a few weeks. You might have to repeat some outfits for a while since the duration of your stay wasn’t specified. But you always had money you could spend on clothes.

“How do we get there?” You asked Master Wu after he informed you he and his students were residing at his tea shop, Steep Wisdom.

He glanced at you out the corner of his, and you just caught the glint of a smirk beneath his beard before golden particles started to form in front of you.

From those particles, something even greater arose. A dragon.

Your mouth gaped open. Wu laughed before tossing your luggage on top of the large white and gold dragon that had just materialized in front of you.

The dragon flight was frightening at first, but as you relaxed it wasn’t so bad. You got to see things from an all new perspective. Dragon-eye view style.

Eventually, through the clearing of teas you flew over, you spotted a cozy tea house nestled between the woods.

The dragon dipped lower and lower before let out a warning, “The dragon dissolves, can you stick the landing?”

“Of course,” you smiled. A drop from this height? Easy.

You prepared yourself, but the disappearance of the dragon beneath you still caught you off guard a bit. However, that didn’t stop you from landing perfectly on your feet.

Flawless, you thought as your luggage somehow landed just as gracefully next to you.

The space around you truly was beautiful. A wall surrounded the tea shop and courtyard, and you heard rushing water faintly in the distance, telling you there was some type of natural water nearby.

What you didn’t notice was the five boys lingering outside upon your arrival.

“Uh, anyone gonna introduce us?” A slightly high pitched voice asked.

You snapped your gaze away from the scenery and towards the voice. Five boys around your own age and dressed in colorful gis regarded you curiously.

Before you could introduce yourself, Wu cut in. “This is your new strength trainer. She’ll be taking over lessons when I’m busy. I expect each of you to treat her with respect.”

A course of “Yes, Sensei’s” were said before the bowed in unison.

Then, an older woman with a long braid falling down her back summoned Wu. Something about an inventory issue.

“Excuse me,” he said to you, and then to his students, “someone will need to show her to her new quarters.”

With that he was gone. And you were left with five teenage boys staring at you.

“Um, hi I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.” You stuck with a polite introduction.

“Hey there,” a brunette boy with somewhat spiky hair said. “You know we don’t usually get many new people, may you and I could–”

“Kai,” a tall boy with black hair, cut him off. “Don’t be weird. She just got here.”

“What?” Kai gaped. “I was just going to ask if–”

“I apologize for my brother.” This time the voice came from… a titanium robot? Now that’s something you don’t see everyday.

Clearly the surprise was written all over your face at the unanimous chuckle that came from each boy.

“I am Zane,” the robot didn’t seem phased by your surprise. “This is Kai, Jay, Cole, and Lloyd. Kai’s sister also resides with us, but I’m afraid she is busy helping Misako and Master Wu.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” you responded. “Do one of you know where I’m staying? If I don’t unpack now I’ll never get it done.” You admitted with a laugh.

“I got it,” said the boy with black hair you now knew to be Cole. He walked over, and grabbed each of your bags as though they weighed nothing.

“You don’t have to do that, I can take some of them. I know they’re a little heavy but no one told me how long I’d be staying.”

“Please,” Cole smirked, “it’s nothing. I can lift more than ten times this weight.”

“Show off,” Kai coughed.

“You okay?” Lloyd asked him.

“Yeah just something caught in my throat,” Kai shook his head before coughing the phrase again.

Cole rolled his eyes at Lloyd and Jay laughed. Zane didn’t seem to get it. You even found yourself smiling at the joke before following Cole to your room.

“Don’t mind them,” he said. “They can be a lot sometimes.”

“Something tells me you also fit into that category,” you teased. You are who you hangout with afterall. Though it wasn’t always true, it seemed fitting for this situation.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out won’t you?” Cole joked, looking back at you over his shoulder.

Eventually the two of you climbed a set of stairs hidden in the back of the tea shop. Upstairs was a small apartment looking room with multiple sets of doors, one of them being your own room.

It was a decent size, about the same as the one you had back home, with plenty of closet space.

“It’s not much I know,” Cole said, “but there’s been worse places we’ve stayed trust me.”

“No it’s perfect,” you insisted. “I don’t need a whole lot to get by.”

Cole nodded, setting your stuff down. “There’s two bathrooms, the boys and I share the one on the left, and you’ll be sharing with Nya on the right.”

You nodded, looking around your new room, thinking of all the ways you could make it look homier. Cole didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t leave either. He simply stood in your doorframe, looking at you, looking at your bare room.

“What?” You asked him, smiling.

“Nothing,” he shook his head with a grin. “Sorry, I’ll let you get settled in.”

You wanted to tell him it was no problem, but he vanished before you could. Out of all the boys you had just met, was the best looking in your eyes.

Shiny black hair, tall, and built like the mountains he commanded. Your new job was off to a good start already.

It was well into the evening when you finally met Nya. She sighed thankfully at the sight of you. She loved her brother, and she didn’t have any problems with the boys. They were all equally respectful, but other than Misako she had no other girls to talk to.

You too were happy for another girl to talk to. There was only so much testosterone someone could be around.

The two of you got along quickly as you offered to stock some shelves with her. Even though you were technically here to train the ninja, you weren’t due to start until the next day.

Your alarm woke you up at six thirty sharp. You know you weren’t supposed to start with the boys until eight that morning, but you wanted to get an early start on your first day before you got lazy.

Passing your way to the bathroom, you ran through your morning routine groggily before you headed downstairs to make yourself a cup of tea to wake you up.

Scanning the shelves for something that looked appetizing for the early morning, you didn’t even hear someone approach you from behind.

“I personally like this one,” a familiar voice said from behind you before a hand shot out and grabbed a case off one of the shelves just a hair too high for you to reach.

You jump slightly, startled by the person’s presence.

Spinning around, you saw the voice and arm belonged to Cole. He was smiling softly at you, a case of green tea in his hands. He too held the appearance of just waking up–tousled hair, sleepy eyes, and the lack of a shirt with black plaid pajama pants.

You quickly averted your eyes from his bare chest and instead found refuge in his earth eyes.

“Why green?” You blurted. It was the only question you could think of at this moment. And maybe it would distract him from the fact you were ogling him just a bit.

“Helps with energy,” he shrugged, tossing the case up in one hand. “I’ll start the kettle.”

It took you an embarrassingly long time to follow him to the back of the tea shop where a small kitchen resided.

He filled the kettle up with water and placed it on the stove before taking a seat at the island next.

“I’d make you some breakfast, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be edible and that’s not the first impression I want you to have of me.” Cole laughed sheepishly.

You laughed with him before you took it upon yourself to scope out the fridge.

“How do you feel about omelets?” You asked after finding multiple cases of eggs. With this many ingredients you would be able to feed the whole team.

“I’m down,” he nodded.

You closed the fridge slightly before you saw a slip of paper taped to the front. It seemed to be a list of written chores, and at the bottom written in all capital letters next to a star were the words, ‘COLE IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN UNSUPERVISED.’

“Jeez, what’d you do?” You giggled, gesturing to the paper.

The boy flushed slightly, shrugging his broad shoulders before saying, “You set fire to the oven one time and suddenly you’re untrustworthy.” He rolled his eyes.

“Funny how that works.”

“Hilarious.” He deadpanned.

“Well since you can’t help with the food why don’t you just grab anything you want to add to the eggs, help me find the pans, and I’ll take care of the cooking part.” You suggested.

“That I can do,” he slipped off the stool.

Even though he wasn’t helping with the actual breakfast, the two of you worked in harmony together. He’d hand you the spatula, chop some vegetables, and give you some spices upon request. However, when you thought you could trust him with cracking an egg and he ended up getting it all over his bare torso you took it upon yourself to tie a black apron around him.

“Seriously?” He laughed as you tied the knot around his waist.

“Yup,” you nodded. “Damn. I’d need a magnifying glass to find your waist.”

He tipped his head back and laughed as you returned to flipping omelets with a smirk.

At this point you had successfully made two cups of tea, and three omelets. On the fourth, you were starting to grow more confident.

“Think I could flip it without a spatula?” You asked.

“No,” Cole shook his head, now seated on the island behind you.

“No faith,” you gasped, offended.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he shrugged, leaning back on his palms.

“Oh yeah?” You challenged before grasping the pan handle with both hands. You’d never done this before, but how hard could it be really? The answer was not very as you successfully tossed up an omelet and caught it gently on the other side.

You cheered, victorious as Cole also encouraged you, both laughing all the way.

Eventually, more and more people started waking up, and the more competent ones (Zane) began to help you with breakfast.

By the time eight in the morning rolled around, breakfast had been done, dishes were washed, and you were gathered in the courtyard with each of the ninja. Wu had given you the rundown of what he’d like you to work on with his students, and that’s exactly what you’d do.

“So,” you said, shaking the jitters out of your hands. “I’m thinking I’ll just spar one on one with each of you to see what you need to work on. Okay?”

The boys traded uneasy glances. “Are you sure?” Jay asked.

You smiled a little at their apprehension. “Yes, I’m positive. We’re just sparring, remember. But don’t hold back, otherwise it’s just a waste of time.”

“Yeah, you get your ass handed to you by Nya all the time, this shouldn’t be different.” Cole patted Jay on the back.

The others laughed at Jay’s blush and he grumbled something inaudible under his breath.

“Okay Jay, since you’re so worried you’re up first.” You waved him over. “Sensei said no powers.”

“Right,” Jay nodded as he approached you slowly.

“I’m not gonna bite you, Jay.”

“I know that!” He defended as the boys behind him howled with laughter.

You couldn’t help but tease him as the two of you got into a fighting stance.

You dug your feet into the ground and steadied your breathing. The key to combat was focus, controlled breathing, and anticipation. At least that’s what your father told you.

It was no surprise to you that Jay attacked quickly. He was the master of lightning afterall. However, that was what made him so predictable.

He’d throw a series of quick jabs that you avoided with grace. With each attack you’d be just an inch out of reach. Jay was quick–but you were quicker.

You didn’t notice it, but the chatter was nonexistent, and Jay was wholly focused on sparring. Though the sweat building on his forehead, and his attacks slowing were also becoming more prominent.

He threw a high kick in there this time, which was just what you were waiting for. The second his foot came off the ground, you moved to the side, grabbed his ankle, and with your own leg, swept his balancing leg off the ground causing him to fall straight onto his back.

Jay landed with a wheeze, but you helped him up just as quickly. “Your attacks are precise, but they’re sloppy. You try to cram in a lot of combined attacks and hope for the best. If you slow them down a bit you’re more likely to land a few.”

Kai ‘Ohed’ from the sidelines. “You didn’t even get one hit dude.”

Jay glared at him as he took a seat beside Lloyd.

“And you won’t either, your turn.” You pointed to Kai.

The others laughed, but Kai rose, determination clear on his face.

You got into position again, but this time you’d change up your evasion techniques. Since he spent the previous match observing you he no doubt knew some of your moves.

Kai fought more aggressively than Jay, but with less accuracy making him easier to avoid. You twirled around him after a hard punch threw him off balance slightly. With your backs to each other, you only had a moment to grab his arm, crouch, shift your weight, and flip his body over yours.

Kai landed as hard as Jay.

After explaining his problem to him, you called up Zane next. You wanted to get the analyzing robot out of the way before you completely ran out of cards to play.

You had to admit, Zane almost got you, but you quickly threw yourself from his reach with a well timed aerial over his shoulder. Just as you landed he threw a punch, but you were ready for that. You crouched the moment you landed, and swept both his legs.

Standing quickly, you had just enough time to catch the front of his gi, suspending him above the floor ever so slightly. You felt a bit bad–you didn’t want to dent him after all.

Lloyd whistled, impressed, as he was finally called to the stand.

Lloyd, the green ninja. You knew he would also be pretty difficult, but it was like you were in a trance at the moment. You weren’t about to lose your winning streak, were you?

Being as flexible as you were didn’t hurt either. Sure the ninja were pretty flexible, but you could contort yourself into the most uncomfortable positions making it easy to avoid each of the ninja's blows.

All you had to do was wait until they tired themselves out, and then deliver the final blow. It was almost as if they were fighting themselves.

Lloyd looked concentrated, but his stance was off slightly. You feinted one way, and he fell for it easily, shifting all his weight onto one side of his body to prepare for the hit he thought was coming. Instead, you spun and shoved your shoulder hard into the opposite side of his body.

Lloyd crumbled like a house of cards.

When the green ninja retreated with a defeated look on his face, you were left with only one ninja now.

You suspected because of his height, Cole would be slow and off balance, but you were wrong. He was sturdy, and his height only added to his balance if anything. You’ve fought people bigger and stronger than you all the time, bad unlucky for him they only went down one way.

After a while of going through your song and dance of avoidance once again, Cole laughed.

“You’re slippery, huh?” He joked.

You winked before sliding between his legs, kicking the back of his knees and then once more between his shoulder blades to send him tumbling down to the ground.

“Wu was right,” you huffed, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “You guys rely way too much on your powers.”

“Alright, cough it up, where’d you learn that?” Jay asked.

“Learn what?” You laughed, helping a grumpy Cole from the floor.

“You flip around so much I got sick from just looking at you!” Jay whined.

“Lots of practice and some time in the cirque,” she shrugged.

“Like the circus?” Cole asked, looking down at you.

“Not the stuff with the tent and the animals,” you clarified. “More like the Cirque Du Soleil shows, you know? Anyway, I did a lot of acro as a kid. Made it easy to learn combat.”

“That’s awesome,” Kai said. “Have you ever juggled fire?”

“I told you, it’s not the tent type of circus,” you laughed. “It’s classier than that. That’s besides the point, you all have work to do. Lucky for all of you we’re going to start with yoga today! Just as a warm up.”

You giggled behind your hand at the unanimous groan coming from all five boys.

#ninjago #cole brookstone x reader #fluff #ninja x reader #ninjago cole #ninjago x reader #oneshot #reader insert #reader x character #request #lloyd garmadon #zane julien #jay walker #kai smith #fanfic

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nereidprinc3ss · 6 months ago

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do you believe me now? | 6

in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe

The car ride is the worst of your life.

Neither of you speak.

And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything.

Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue.

Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again.

When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on.

For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away.

“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes.

“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted.

Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart.

But you never claimed to be strong.

Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.

“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”

Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands.

The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry.

For not loving you?

If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?

But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces.

As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied.

“I don’t understand you.”

The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears.

“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed.

“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”

“Explain what?”

You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding.

He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for.

“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”

A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath.

His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond.

“Love you back?”

You blink.

Your stomach drops.

For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself.

What a way to make an exit from your relationship.

Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something.

What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know.

“I didn’t…”

“You didn’t mean it.”

The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp.

“That’s not what I was—”

“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”

It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions.

“Spencer…”

It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable.

He swallows.

“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”

For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.

“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”

“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”

And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice.

“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”

You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her.

“Wait.”

He says your name.

And of course you pause.

You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle.

“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?”

You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again.

The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring.

“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”

You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about.

Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break.

“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”

Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly.

“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”

You blink.

And for some reason, begin sobbing.

Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in.

“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

You take a shuddering breath.

“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”

Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper.

You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty.

“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”

“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”

You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly.

“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”

His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel. Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this.

“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes. “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”

Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft.

“How could I not be so in love with you?”

Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold.

“Really?”

“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”

The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw.

When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat.

“Too honest?”

You shake your head as if in a fog.

“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”

He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone.

“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”

“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder.

“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”

There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up.

“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”

He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning.

“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”

You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him.

Spencer kisses you on the cheek.

“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”

As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is.

“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room.

“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on.

“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand.

“Ambience over everything, baby.”

His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other.

“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”

You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy.

Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.

He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this.

“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets.

“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”

He knows he hasn’t.

“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”

Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC.

“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”

“I missed you too,” you admit softly.

He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes.

Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck.

“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs.

Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.

His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut.

Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon.

And he’s laughing.

“What were you drinking?”

You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.

“Water.”

“Before that, baby. At the bar.”

You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall.

“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”

“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”

Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige.

Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all.

“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip.

“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face.

It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same.

“Love you.”

He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own.

“I love you.”

It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips.

A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately.

Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first.

“I’m sorry.”

You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology.

“For what?”

The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly.

“For what I said at the bar.”

Oh.

That.

It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth.

You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you.

At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth.

“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”

Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak.

“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”

“It is not. I made you cry.”

Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him.

“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”

You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back.

“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”

You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly.

“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too.

But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight.

“You know what you could do right now?”

The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would.

“What’s that?”

You smile slyly.

“You could kiss me again.”

“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”

“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours.

“I thought I was already forgiven.”

“Apologies can be retracted.”

“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”

Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel.

As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks.

Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee.

Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now.

But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy.

“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.

He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming.

“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”

Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him.

“Playing nice?”

“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”

Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his.

“According to who?”

His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?

“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”

You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart.

“What?”

“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”

You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall.

“I think I’m in a great place.”

At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet.

“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”

“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours.

“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”

Reluctantly you nod.

“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”

In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier.

“Hey.”

“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly.

“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”

That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would.

“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”

He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”

“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”

You turn back around, brows raised.

“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”

“Uh-huh. Come here.”

Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case.

But at the same time—everything’s different.

And you won’t make the same mistake twice.

“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face.

“Hey what?”

“I remembered what I was gonna say.”

The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Tell me.”

“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”

“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”

“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”

“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”

It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.

“You already knew everything.”

“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”

And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all.

“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top.

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled.

Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage.

Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.

Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you.

Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement.

The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself.

Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest.

“Jesus, you—”

But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs.

“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”

part seven

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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utterlyazriel · 1 year ago

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how long have i searched for you?

azriel finds his mate in the most inopportune time and he convinces himself you haven't sought him out for good reason. he couldn't be more wrong. word count: 4.6k & god bless @strangerstilinski for making this fic ever get written <3

Though he'd deny it if ever asked, most of all to Cassian, there was a part of Azriel that had spent years upon years yearning for what it would be like when he met his mate.

A chance encounter. A friend of a friend. A shared look across a crowded room, your eyes catching, where you both suddenly just know.

A thousand possible ways to meet, to find each other. Azriel had run every scenario through his head, ten times over, both soothed and aching at the dreadful mixture of hope and doubt he had. With his rotten luck, he was probably doomed to a life without ever finding his mate. If he even had one.

However, in all his years of hoping and wishing, not once could he say that he'd imagined meeting his mate the way he did.

In a flash; a brush up during the battle of Velaris, where you, a healer, had stumbled into his life. There had been only a moment amongst all the chaos, where this deep strong pull had risen in his chest, glowing and hot like he'd never felt before.

His head had snapped around, finding the source in a heartbeat. Everything leading to you.

But it hadn't been the time, no matter that you had clearly felt it too, the glow, the pull, given away with your wide eyes and parted lips. Battle was being sieged on Velaris and despite every instinct in Azriel that roared at him to stay with you, to take you from the danger, he had a duty to fulfill.

And then, even once the battle finished, the war was waged and won, when was there time? Azriel could feel it in him, the yearning that seemed to sing from his very blood — he itched to go find you. However, there was still much to do, still orders from Rhys to carry out, mission and meetings to attend to.

Besides, you hadn't sought him out either.

So, when the chaos calmed finally and he finally had time to breathe, Azriel did not seek you out. He waited. He longed.

But if you wished to stay away and never see him, then Azriel would respect it. He would never impose on your life if you did not wish it, no matter how long he had waited for his mate.

One month of quiet life rolled on.

Today, the weather in Velaris greatly contrasted his state. Exhausted from his mission and a tad more scratched up that he had hoped to be, Azriel feels like a cloud on the city's sparkling sky. He's dirty, half soaked, and probably dripping blood and mud all over the tiles.

Gods, he was tired.

The fly back to the House of Wind had been harder, his landing a little ungraceful due to the slices he bore on his wings. Not the worst of his injuries but still, they throbbed painfully and Azriel felt the rivets of rain and blood trickling along them. His wings gave a little shudder and even his shadows seemed to droop.

"And he returns—" Cassian's voice announced his arrive before his feet had even touched onto the balcony. Upon the sight of his brother, hunched and not his usual self, his tone shifted quickly. "Holy Cauldron, what happened to you?"

Azriel bristled, schooling away his sneer at the thought of the fight he just won. He rolled his shoulders back, biting back his wince at the tenderness of his wounds, and grimaced.

"Same thing that always does, brother."

Cassian frowned, his concern evident with the furrow between his brows. "You're going to see a healer."

His tanned hand gestured to Azriel's drooping wing. His question was more of an instruction. Azriel felt apprehension roll through him, torn between the sweet relief he know would come with having his wounds tended to and the first healer he could think of: you.

He shook the thought away. Nearly two months since he'd first seen you had passed and he found himself infuriated with how his brain seemed intent on taunting him. You pervaded his thoughts just as frequently as you did on that first day, even with your distance.

"Madja does not reside here anymore."

"So?" Cassian pressed. "Gods, I will take you myself if I must."

Azriel huffed. He knew Cassian could make good on his words and as another ache rippled through his back, making every slice on his skin known, he let himself relent. Besides, what were the chances of his healer being you?

"I will go." Azriel replied, straightening up his slumped shoulders. A hint of smugness crossed Cassian's face before he smiled, genuine as he lay his hand on Azriel's shoulder.

"Before you go," Cassian said, beginning to grin. "Did you wipe the floor with them?"

Azriel's lips quirked, a semblance of a smile. He inhaled, preparing himself for one more course of travel before he could rest. "Of course."

—

The second flight had agony clawing deeper within his wings, a protest with every strong beat of them, as he flew to the Apothecary down amongst the city's heart. The surging pain fought for his attention, like a poison writhing beneath his bones, and Azriel was nearly embarrassed at his hard landing.

It was loud, his boots slamming down into the pavement before the Apothecary, his wings flaring to catch him. He could feel the tremor in his muscles, each leg held taut. He looked up at his destination.

The building before him was a sage green, white trims around each of the windows. Within, through the panes of glass, Azriel could see a healer jump at his sudden entrance. His shadows wisped around him rapidly, as though they might soften his abrupt interruption.

Azriel straightened up, tucking his wings in as he reined himself in. He could feel his emotions boiling up within him, swirling and rising as he peered in the window before him. Apprehension tinged with something he wouldn't acknowledge, something too close to hope.

The glow in his chest was back. You must be near.

Azriel wasn't sure what was winning; the absolute urge to follow the tug on his chest to find the person on the other end of it, or the part of him that would prefer never knowing if you wanted him or not.

The bell above the door jingled quietly as he pushed it open. He was careful to mind his mess, far too aware of how he was tracking half a mountain of dirt in with him. Eyes scanned over each thing in the room, calculating in a way he always was.

Around him, his shadows had gotten zippier, darting about and back to him; as though, they too, could sense the nearness of his mate.

The Fae behind the counter stared, wide-eyed, whether at his shadows or simply himself. Azriel willed them to calm as best he could. They were being unnaturally eager to leave his side.

"Hello," Azriel started, unsure on the proper procedures. He wondered if just gesturing to himself might work. The Fae behind the counter, a fair women with dark hair, seemed to finally shake herself out of it.

"Hello!" She amended her behaviour quickly. Her hand waved behind her, gesturing to the corridor that stretched out behind her. "Let's do something about those wounds. If you head down and take the last door on the left, y/n will be available to get you on the mend."

The name she spoke sent a pang through Azriel and he wondered, he hoped, if a name that beautiful could potentially belong to you. Maybe, he would be better to request someone else, if it was you down the end of the hall. Hesitance kept him rooted to the floor. His eyes sweeping down the hall and back to the Fae woman before him.

"Thank you," He finally murmured. His began walking, passing the counter and heading down the hallway — mindful of his drooping, tired wings that threatened to leave a trail behind him.

Final door on the left. Azriel paused before it, deciding to knock before he entered. He could hear someone inside, bustling around in the space. His knuckles grazed against the door.

"Come in!"

A voice like honey called out, wrapping around him like the softest silk, every nerve in him trilling and burning. Azriel swallowed heavily, knowing who must be on the other side of that door. He should walk back up that hallway. He shouldn't go through this door. He should give you the privacy you so clearly desire.

And yet, the warm glow in his chest urged him forward, urged him closer, and Azriel couldn't resist being selfish. Just this once, just to see you once more. He pushed the door open and slid silently in the room.

You're everything.

Gods, as he laid his eyes on you now, Azriel had to commend himself for ever managing to keep himself from you. You’re ethereal — and the glowing tug on his chest had expanded ten-fold as you turned to face him, every ounce of his being yearning, aching, to be closer to you.

Azriel was a strong man but even he couldn’t help the way his body swayed closer, a ripple passing through his wings subtly. They gave a tiny shake behind him. His shadows seemed to be dancing across his shoulders, gleeful in their wispy movements.

Even his pain had been put aside for this moment — dialed down to barely a twinge as he drunk in the sight of you before him, his eyes scouring your face for every detail he could, lest it be the only time he got to.

Faintly, he felt his lips twitch. His hands curled up at his sides, a minuscule motion. You’re… very beautiful. You’re everything he’s been waiting for — and Azriel is sure that shine of the night sky he adores so reverently is rivaled only by your eyes.

“I—” He remembered himself, the word rasping out before he could stop it. He realised he was not sure what he intended to say. “Forgive me.”

You seem perplexed by his words if the wrinkle between your eyebrows was an indication.

One of his shadows snaked down his arm, flitting out to meet you and Azriel felt himself flush slightly. He called it back sternly and silently — only more embarrassed when it didn’t listen, circling your wrist and tickling its way up your arm.

But there was no apprehension in your face, nor in your laugh which felt like a shot of espresso to his system, as his shadows continued badgering you. Something close to mortification crept up his neck as two more shadows darted out to join the first, curling excitedly around your neck like a lover would.

“My apologies,” Azriel forced his mouth to work. “They are not usually so… misbehaved.”

You waved him off, another laugh tittering from your mouth as a shadow curled over your ear. Surprisingly, whether through some bond or not, he knew that you were not afraid of him in any sense.

Your hand waved him over to the table set up for patients, ushering him over. “That’s alright. You can tell me what I’m to forgive you for as I look over your wounds.”

Azriel didn’t move. His feet felt rooted to the floor, heart turning itself inside out. Did you not know? Could you not feel it? Were you simply sweet enough that you would still tend to him, heal him, even though you knew and had decided to keep your distance?

“I…” He selected his words carefully, watching you closely. “I did not wish to make you see me if it was not on your own terms."

You were setting up your items on a silver tray beside the medical table and when you looked over your shoulder, you seemed confused that he hadn’t moved. You urged him over with a jerk of your chin and a smile that melted through his chest, hot like candle wax.

“Nonsense.” You patted the table invitingly. “C'mon, you’re dripping blood on my floors.”

His politeness had him standing up straighter, wings bunching up as he realised they had begun to drag along the ground. It was the thing that finally got him to move, his feet stepping forward in an instant.

“I’m—”

“Kidding. I was kidding.” You intercept his apology easily, eyes bright.

Something preens within him at how you knew what he would say so soon within meeting him. Azriel took another step and let himself sink down onto the padded table, his wings resting gently around him. Even seeing you, talking to you, is not enough to chase away his fatigue. You hand him a clean cloth to clear the muck from his face and he does so silently.

“Are you fit to remove your leathers?” You asked, your gaze turned analytic as you scanned over his muscled body for his injuries.

Azriel nodded, not trusting his voice. As each piece of armor was pulled off, not a wince in sight, he was surprised at the flustering feeling within him. It was light, just a ball of nervousness, tinged with embarrassment, in his chest — which made no sense. As he pulled the final layer of clothing from his chest, Azriel realised that this feeling wasn’t coming from him.

You were staring as politely as you could, eyes darting around the injuries scattered across his torso but with a nervous flush to you. Your eyes flitted across his chest, once, twice. Barely a glimpse— something that would’ve gone unnoticed if he was not the spymaster of this court.

Azriel couldn’t resist. “Everything alright?”

If he had made voice a tad gruffer than usual, that was between him and the Cauldron.

“Yes.” You smiled at him again and it nearly made him miss the pinch in your voice. Nearly. “Just thinking that if you look like this, I hardly want to imagine the other guys.”

Azriel bit back his smile, only half succeeding in hiding it. It was wiped as you finally stepped closer, examining him properly. A furrow between your brows. Azriel could feel the hot burning want to smooth it out with his thumb, to take your worry from you.

His shadows had slipped further from him, more and more of them following your gentle hands as you skimmed atop his skin, deep in thought. They swirled around your hands, festering where you were nearly touching him, and Azriel desperately willed them to relax. They did not obey.

“The shadows,” He began, already apologetic.

Your eyes flashed to his and then back on the laceration splitting the skin on his shoulder. You pulled one of your hands back, just an inch, focusing on how the shadows followed you. Tiny wisps dancing around your hand, light touches that reminded you of a thousand tiny kisses.

“It’s alright.” You hummed, sweet with a smile. “They’re sort of lovely.”

And if Azriel had felt your momentary fluster, he had no doubt he would be unable to hide the swell of surprise within him.

You finally pulled your hands back, beginning to circle around the table to take a closer look at his wings. Azriel couldn’t repress his shiver at the thought— his mate, so close to something so precious to him. He was torn between emotions; his body buzzing at the thought of your touch and his mind adamant that you wanted to keep your distance for a reason.

“I must say, I have heard of Illyrian wings before,” Your voice breathed over his shoulder, distracted by the view. Without meaning to, Azriel’s wings gave a little twitch. “But never seen them this close. They’re very beautiful.”

Azriel blinked and willed himself to remain neutral even if all his shadows seemed to give him away; their flitterings only increased at your words.

He bowed his head. “Thank you.”

Then there was a soft touch along the leathery skin of his wing, your fingers, tentative and gentle. Azriel swallowed the noise in his throat. His wings gave another involuntary shiver.

“Is it alright to… touch?”

It’s sweet of you to ask even though he’s sure you’ll have no way of healing him if he says no. Azriel steeled himself, forcing himself to remain neutral.

“Yes,” He murmured. The wounds across his torso had already begun to heal themselves, his Fae blood clotting and knitting the skin back together at an achingly slow pace. He was too tired to heal himself properly. He had known his wings would require the most attention.

It was an effort not to jump when your touch returned, tiny fingertips that felt startlingly warm suddenly. Azriel could feel the tendrils of your magic as it poured out through your fingers, a healing salve to the agony of his wings. It felt so good he struggled to not sigh aloud, his scarred hands flexing in his lap.

“You know,” You began, voice quiet. “I was hoping you might seek me out but perhaps, for a less painful reason.”

While Azriel fought to keep his head from snapping around, his shadows did no such thing— all of them jumping from their usual hiding place. He swatted at them, mortified at how revealing they seemed to be in your presence.

Still, there was no battling away the kernel of hope that sat deep in the pit of his stomach, mixed tightly with disbelief.

Another touch along his wings, another warming healing glow. Azriel cleared his throat and fought to keep his voice even.

“You were… waiting for me?”

Gods, he couldn’t have sounded more pathetic if he tried. But his head was spinning, the glowing pull on his chest tightening, the kernel growing larger and larger. You were waiting for him, you were waiting for him.

“Of course, why would I not be?”

“I…” He had never been so lost for words in all his centuries of living. Never sure how deep the rift within him ran, a part of him convinced that the reason he had not found a mate in all his time was because he had not deserved one.

“I did not want to impose on you, I know that not all—”

It was all coming out wrong. Azriel reined in his rampant emotions, the swirling of his shadows dimming for a moment. Your hands had paused their ministrations on his wings, listening intently. He couldn’t bear to turn to face you as he spoke.

“I wanted to give you space to decide yourself. To leave the decision in your hands. Because I would understand if—”

He cut himself off with a sharp inhale. Voicing it, suggesting the possibility of you hoping and waiting for a mate all your life, just as he did, only to be disappointed that discover it was him— he couldn’t say it aloud.

He was sure you must be able to feel his fear and clamped his mental shields down as tight as he could. He would not guilt you into this.

“I can see why the Mother made us mates.” You mused after a moment.

Azriel nearly shuddered at the word, at you referring to him at your mate so casually— a yawning chasm of want spreading over his entire body. Gently, slowly, your hands began to work again.

“Here I was,” you continued, voice light and hands warm. “Thinking that, maybe, the shadowsinger had his duties and would come find me if he wished. And that I would understand if he never came to find me at all.”

This time, Azriel could not resist turning around to see your face. His heart ached terribly to hear what you had thought. His shadows spun around his shoulders and as he turned, they twisted and ran for you.

“No,” He said severely. He couldn’t help the way he shook his head, like a petulant child but you were just so wrong. “No, I— I’m sorry, I never meant for you to think— please forgive me.”

Despite his evident distress, you smiled easily with a little shake of your head. “There is nothing to forgive. It would be, well, almost hypocritical if I let you apologise for doing the same thing I did to you.”

Amongst his relief, Azriel felt his chest pulse in adoration, a smile forming on his lips. Twisted back on the table, your hands mending along his wings, the thing he’d wanted for — had spent so many years envisioning — finally finding him. He would not have it any other way.

“I’ve waited for you for five hundred years.” He croaked.

Your eyes widened a fraction and you blinked owlishly at him for a moment as his words sunk in.

“Well,” You chuckled somewhat awkwardly. Azriel could feel the nervousness radiating off you in waves. “I hope after that all that waiting it wasn’t too underwhelming—”

“It wasn’t.” He interrupted. “It isn’t. You’re…”

It was an effort to restraint himself — to not be too much, too soon.

“Despite the knots we both seemed to tie ourselves in,” He huffed a silent laugh, melting as you relaxed too. “Please believe me when I say I would not have it anything other way.”

You glowed, a sweet emotion singing from you so loudly that Azriel couldn’t not feel it. You hadn’t accepted the bond yet and still… he could feel the strong emotions as they rippled through you. Joy. He was so happy that it was joy, more than anything else. His shadows seemed to be split between the two of you, protecting you as much as they did himself.

Then suddenly, your eyes widened again, as if another thought had occurred to you.

“Wait a minute, five hundred years?” You repeated his words back to him with an air of disbelief. “You’re an old man!”

His laugh escaped him before he could capture it, entranced at your delightful quick wit. Your eyes were bright, your pretty mouth pulled into your smile.

The ache in his wings had dulled almost completely and Azriel absentmindedly noticed you had managed to heal up the majority of his wounds during your conversation. They fluttered appreciatively and your eyes darted back down to them.

“Is that to be a problem?” He teased lightly.

Your obvious flustering pooled off you, sliding down along the bond even as he felt you desperately trying to curb it. Even then, you couldn’t resist another glimpse at his toned back.

He certainly didn’t look like an old man— not with the taut tan muscles of his back, his large biceps, nor his handsome young face. His hazel eyes watched playfully as you allowed yourself one long look over him.

“Nope,” you said decisively, pressing down your grin. You held your hands up defensively, as if it would aid your point. “No problems here.”

Your footsteps were light as you rounded the table to face him from the front, your healing job completed. For a quiet moment, Azriel could only stare — holding his breath, waiting.

He schooled away any thoughts of how much it would hurt to part from you, now that he had finally found you, and spoke again.

“It doesn’t have to be now.” He said, hazel eyes fixed on your own. He made sure his emotions were unwavering, that you would not feel swayed to spare his feelings. A shadow skittered across your shoulder.

“I want you to be sure. I would never want you to feel as though you had no choice. We— I can wait, I have waited years for you, I can—”

His words were smothered in his own breathy gasp as you reached out, one finger trailing across the peak of his wing. Something like pure desire shot down his spine and he did everything in his power to hold in his growl.

“Something told me that would get you to stop talking.” You said, with a hint of teasing.

A seriousness flicked across your face, settling into your expression as you took in the male before you, your mate — and you could feel his want, the enormity of his yearning trickling down the bond— and yet, you knew that he would walk away from it in a second if you asked him to.

You had no intention of doing any such thing.

“While you may have me beat on the waiting,” You said softly. It didn’t feel right when you’ve only just met him to reach out, but the urge swims within you anyways.

You reached out to touch his face, your hand as soft and warm as a sunbeam on his skin.

“I do not wish to extend that waiting for any longer, my mate.”

Your words had an instant effect, a shudder that passed across his face, eyes fluttering, the flick of his wings spreading out and forwards, as though reaching for you. You kept your hand steady.

Azriel allowed himself to lean into your touch. Allowed every feeling to flow down the warm tug in his chest, over the bridge that kept him inexplicably connected to you — overwhelming bouts of relief, of love, all of it unrestrained. And he could feel you on the other end, meeting it all with the softest, kindest assurance.

“Can…” He murmured, nearly embarrassed. He would have been if you were looking at him any way other than completely adored. His shadows had finally slowed, soft caressing motions along your shoulders and neck. He dared to ask. “Would you say it once more?”

You smiled, brighter than the sun and softer than moonlight, unable to resist your temptation to get nearer to him. You inched closer, letting yourself breathe in the scent of him greedily, knowing he was doing the same. Both of you desperate to memorise each other, despite knowing you had forever to come.

Your nose brushed his and you nuzzled against it gently, eyes sliding closed. Azriel released a shaky breath, his scarred hands clenching tightly in his lap, terribly overwhelmed in a way he’d never been before. If you had peeked over his shoulder, you might have seen the slight quiver in his wings.

“Azriel,” you whispered. “My mate.”

The shadows around both of you suddenly laid down very still, as if they had encountered a feeling within their master that had not yet before; a calming tranquility. The moment lingered as you let your words sink in, watching his closed eyes. You let yourself steal this moment with him.

“Though,” you pulled back from him, watching his hazel eyes open again. The shadows around him picked up, lazily flitting around. “If you want to get all cleaned up before dinner, you best head home soon.”

“Dinner.” Azriel repeated, the smallest scrunch between his eyes.

You stepped back from him, smoothing your hands down your front almost nervously— but no, it was closer to excitement, he realised.

“Dinner, yes.” Azriel said, catching on, his wings flaring out for just a moment. You grinned, endeared entirely by all his little tells despite his apparently stony demeanour. You could see him beneath it, the soft kind Male that the Mother had made for you.

“It would be an honour.” He added seriously, finally getting to his feet, preparing to leave. You ached at the thought — but more of you preened, knowing you would see him not long after. His seriousness made you laugh.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda intense?”

Azriel smiled, his shadows moving more deftly now. “And yet, never has it sounded so sweet as it does coming from you.”

You flushed and it was made entirely worse by the chuckle you felt down his end of the bond. You jabbed him in the shoulder, a bit miffed when he didn’t sway in the slightest.

“Alright, no more mud on my floors.” You ordered, faux serious as you pointed to the door. “I will see you later tonight.”

“Promise?” He asked, once more to check— but mostly to see that elated grin he was already falling in love with.

“I swear on my mate." You promised back, delighted when he grinned — properly, teeth and all — and you stole one final glance at your forever as he disappeared out the door.

part two here

#hi! if you're reading this i'm new here! :D #well #i read these books awhile ago but... new to writing... for azzy baby <3 #so feel free to tell what you think (unless you think it suckssss then keep that one quiet ples)#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic

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joeshiestyslover · 6 months ago

Text

fuck it i love you- c. sturniolo

pairing: fratboy!chris sturniolo x academicweapon!reader

summary: you and chris were on two completely opposite sides of the college spectrum. chris loves to party and hook up, and you love to stay in and do your homework. chris would never notice someone like you…right?

warnings: language, mentions of sex, angst, fluff, chris is lowkey an asshole at first but he gets better, reader is good at poker, some typos

masterlist

lowercase intended

you were never one for parties or large social gatherings in general. you are an introvert and very much a homebody, spending most of your time doing schoolwork or just lying in bed. because of this, you never made many friends as a child, and you especially never had a boyfriend.

chris was the complete opposite. chris loves parties and being around people. he can’t stand being in his house and doing nothing. since chris got to college, he spent most of his time at frat parties or hooking up with random girls. another thing about chris is that he’s never been the relationship type of guy. there was always an insane amount of girls that wanted him, but he never gave in, opting for random hookups.

you’re a sophomore in college and the only actual friend you’ve managed to make is your roommate, jasmine. she understood your introverted tendencies and respected them, but she was never afraid to urge you to get out of your comfort zone once in a while. right now, she’s trying to get you to attend a party that one of the school’s fraternities is throwing.

“come on y/n! it’ll be so fun!” jasmine begs. “i don’t like parties. i’d rather stay here and watch bridgerton.” you retort. “you’re always home and it worries me. you need actual human interaction. come on, please! i promise i won’t ask you to do anything like this again if you don’t have fun.” “i don’t know, jas.” you say skeptically. she gives you a look and you know she won’t give up until you go, so you give in. “fine.” you tell her with a roll of your eyes. she smiles and clasps her hands together. “yay! now let’s find you something to wear. i doubt you have anything, so you can borrow something of mine.” jasmine heads towards her closet and digs through until she pulls out a skintight light pink minidress. your jaw drops. “absolutely not.” “you’re wearing this y/n. it’s gonna look so good on you.” she walks over to you and throws it on your bed.

you pick it up and hold it against your body. “oh my god jas. my ass is gonna be on display!” you tell her. “don’t worry girl you have a great ass and you should show it off.” she winks. “okay the party starts in twenty minutes and we still have to get ready so come on.” jasmine leads you into the bathroom and does your hair and makeup first. she spends about half an hour on it before she finishes. you look at yourself in the mirror and gasp. “wow i look so good.” you smile at your reflection. “you’re welcome. now go get dressed.” you walk over to your bed where the dress lays and you quickly undress and throw it on, along with some clear wedges you had stuffed in the back of your closet.

jasmine finishes getting ready and she walks out of the bathroom. you both compliment each other’s looks before grabbing your purses and walking out of your dorm and towards jasmine’s car. you both get in and jasmine puts the car into drive, making her way towards the frat house.

once you both get to the party and you can hear the music thumping from outside the house. you can feel your palms begin to become sweaty and your heartbeat quicken. “jas i don’t know about this. what if something bad happens?” you ask nervously. “everything’s gonna be fine. i promise i’ll stick with you as long as you want me to, okay?” she reassures you. you slowly nod you head. you both then get out of the car and walk into the frat house. the moment you walk in, you can smell the strong scent of weed, alcohol, and sweat.

you look around and notice some people you know from your classes, all of them stoned, drunk, or both. your eyes continue to wander until you lock eyes with him. chris sturniolo. he’s easily the biggest asshole you’ve ever met. he was in your english lit class last semester and the only thing he did was show up late and extremely hungover. you can see his eyes trail down to your body and back up to your face. you roll your eyes and turn to jasmine. “we should get drinks.” you yell over the music. she nods and you both walk into the kitchen, where a vast array of drinks sit on the counter. you grab a beer out of the ice filled bucket where they sit, twist the cap off and take a drink. you look to your left and see jasmine flirting with some guy you’ve never seen before. after a few seconds, she turns to you and asks: “do you think it would be okay if i went with him? it’s totally okay if you’re not comfortable being by yourself. i’ll let him down and stay with you if you want.” you can’t help but smile at her. “it’s okay jas, i’ll be fine. i think i saw some guys playing poker and you know how much i love texas hold ‘em.” she grins and turns back to the guy and he leads her away.

you walk out of the kitchen and walk over to the table where a bunch of guys are sitting, dealing out cards. “y’all got room for one more?” you ask them. “you play?” one of the guys retorts. you nod. “yep. been playing since middle school.” “i guess we could deal you in.” he motions to one of the empty chairs. you sit as the dealer hand you the cards. you take a peek at the cards and see pocket aces. your face remains stoic as you look around at all the guys, trying to read their faces. everyone around the table checks, and so do you. the dealer puts down one card. about half of the guys fold, and a few of them raise, and of course, you match their bets. once again, everyone checks, and the dealer puts down the rest of the cards. you all then turn over all your cards, with you obviously winning. you smirk and gather all the chips to your side of the table.

before you can start the next round, chris walks over to the table. he claps one of the guys on the shoulders before his eyes find yours. he then walks up to you and you once again roll your eyes at him. “hey, what’s your name?” you ignore him and deal out the cards since it’s your turn. “c’mon don’t be like that.” he presses as he sits down next to you. you sigh and turn to him. “if i were you, i wouldn’t even bother learning my name, especially if you didn’t care to learn it last semester.” chris looks confused. “do i know you from somewhere?” you shrug. “wait,” he begins. “you’re that girl from english. the one that always asked a bunch of questions.” “guess so. do you mind? i’m in the middle of something.” you flip over the cards in front of you. “damn okay i see how it is. i’ll catch you later though.” he stands up out of the seat and you flash him a fake smile. “i hope not.” you mutter before he walks away.

you continue to play for a little while longer, surprisingly having fun. you had to admit, tonight is going a lot better than you thought it would. after winning most of the hands, you decide it’s time to head out, so you get up and say bye to the guys you were playing with. you wander through the crowd, trying to find jasmine, but she’s nowhere to be found. she must have gone home with the guy she left with earlier, so you pull out your phone and order an uber. your feet begin to ache and you spot an empty seat on a sofa, so you take a seat. you scroll on your phone for a bit before feeling the couch dip next to you. you look up and see chris sitting directly to your right. you immediately look back down at your phone, desperately wanting to avoid another conversation with him.

“you know it’s dangerous for a pretty girl like yourself to be alone at a party like this. you never know what kinda creep will try and take advantage of you.” he smirks. “i think i can handle myself, thanks.” you say back, avoiding eye contact. “hey, i’m just looking out for you, ma.” you finally turn to look at him. “don’t call me that.” “well, you never gave me your name, so…” he trails off. “you don’t need to know my name.” you say coldly. “why not?” chris tilts his head. “i don’t know what you think you’re doing, but i’m not gonna sleep with you so find another girl to bother.” you snap. before he can respond, your phone goes off, signaling that your uber arrived at the house. without a word, you stand up from the couch and walk towards the front door, leaving behind a very shocked chris.

once you got back to your dorm, you took off your makeup and changed into comfy clothes. the moment you lied down, you fell asleep, but couldn’t help but think about the brunette boy that managed to get under your skin so much.

a week later, you’re at the campus coffee shop, where you work. today isn’t a very busy day, just a few tired college kids in desperate need of coffee. you’re cleaning the tables near the back when you hear the bell ring, signifying that someone had walked into the shop. “welcome in.” you say out of habit. when you look up, your eyes meet chris’ blue ones. you walk behind the counter and plaster on the fakest smile you could muster. “what can i get you?” you ask, trying to get him out as fast as possible. “hey it’s you.” he smirks. “yes it’s me.” you roll your eyes. “what do you want?” “well, y/n,” he reads your name tag, “i would like a cappuccino and your number.” you scoff at his request. “absolutely not. i made it very clear at the party that i’m not interested in being one of your casual hookups.” “i promise i’d make it worth your while.” chris leans in closer to you. “okay buddy.” you say, unconvinced. “come on, y/n-” “not interested chris, either pay for your coffee or get out.” you tell him sternly. now, he rolls his eyes at you. “fine how much?” he pulls out his wallet. “$4.25.” he hands you a $5 and says: “keep the change.” you nod and begin making his drink.

once you finish making the cappuccino, you put the lid on it and hand it to him. “i’ll pull you one day, you know.” he smirks as he takes his drink. “in your dreams.” you retort. “i’ll see you around, ma.” chris yells as he walks out of the coffee shop. you continue the rest of your shift, still not being able to believe the audacity that boy has.

over the next few weeks, chris has been coming to your work, trying to get you to give him your number, and you shut him down every time. “come on, ma, i’m begging you, just one chance, please.” he all but begs you. “no chris, now go away i have customers to deal with.” you walk toward the register, taking a customer’s order. “what do you have to lose?” he questions. “my sanity.” you say putting in the person’s order. “what time do you get off?” “5:30. why?” you raise an eyebrow at his question. “i’ll pick you up and take you to dinner.” you laugh a little, “sure you will.” chris doesn’t say anything and walks out of the store.

sure enough, 5:30 rolls around and as you’re packing up your things in the back, you hear the bell ring. you walk out to the front and see chris at the door. you freeze. you really didn’t think chris would actually show up. “what the hell are you doing here?” you ask. “well, you get off at 5:30 right? i told you i’d pick you up.” he smiles, but it’s not a cocky smile or smirk, it’s a genuine smile. you let out a breath, knowing you can’t get out of it now. “one date. that’s it. you fuck up, you don’t get another chance.” you tell him sternly. he raises his hands in surrender. “i can be nice when i want, you know.” “uh huh, i’m sure. where are we going?” you both begin to walk out the door and chris holds it open, you mutter a small “thank you.” “where do you wanna go?” “ummm” you think, “how about mcdonald’s or something lowkey?” you suggest. “sounds perfect.” he replies, leading you to his car and opening the passenger door for you.

the car ride is relatively quiet, a few comments being made here and there, but it was mostly silent. however, it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was actually quite comfortable. you both get to the nearest mcdonald’s and order your food. it comes time to pay and you begin to pull out your card. “don’t you even dare, y/n.” chris says before you can even get your wallet out of your bag. “chris it’s really not that big of a deal.” you try to reason with him. “no y/n. i’m paying. a gentleman doesn’t make the girl pay, especially not on the first date.” he explains. “okay fine.” you relent.

the rest of the night went much smoother than you thought it would have. chris was a total gentleman and you genuinely had fun with him. at the end of the night, he drove you back to your dorm, but before you left, he asked you out on another date and you immediately said yes.

of course, you still have your reserves because of chris’ reputation around campus, but you wanted to give him a chance. you walk into your room, and see jasmine sitting on her bed. “and where have you been?” she asks. “i was out… on a date.” you say sheepishly. “a date?! with who?!” she becomes interested. “ummm i was with chris actually.” you look down at your shoes. “chris sturniolo? don’t you hate him?” she tilts her head in a confused manner. “i did, but he surprisingly isn’t that bad.” i smile at her slightly. “okay girl just be careful with him. make sure his intentions with you are good before you get too attached.” jasmine warns and you nod at her words. “of course, jas.” you walk over to your bathroom to take off your makeup and get ready for bed.

over the next couple of weeks, you and chris have been hanging out constantly. you actually enjoy his company, and he enjoys yours. you’ve managed to learn more and more about each other. you now know that chris loves hockey, he’s a triplet with his two brothers matt and nick, and he has a dog back home named trevor. all of this new information made him seem like more of an actual person to you and not some asshole you shared one class with for a single semester.

you’re currently getting ready for a party that chris had invited you to. this was the first time you would show up to a gathering like this as a ‘couple’, and you’re a little nervous. you don’t know how people would react because you being with chris is probably the most unexpected thing to happen on campus.

just as you’re putting on your shoes, chris texts you that he’s outside. you say goodbye to jas, and as you’re walking out the door you hear her yell: “be safe! text me if you need me!” you walk over to chris’ car and see him in the driver’s seat. once you open the door, he looks over at you and his jaw drops a little. “whoa. you look amazing, y/n.” you blush a little. “thanks chris.” he smiles at you and begins to drive towards the party.

you get there and can already see drunk students stumbling out the front door, something leaning over to throw up in the bushes. chris puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt. he then gets out and walks over to your side of the car, opening the door for you. he holds his hand out, and you take it. you stand up and before chris releases your hand, he leans down presses a light kiss to your knuckles. you giggle and begin to walk inside the party.

chris puts his hand on your waist and leads you over to the couch in the middle of the room. “i’m gonna grab us some drinks?” he yells over the music. “okay! i’ll be here!” you yell back, hoping he hears you. chris nods and turns to walk towards where you assume is the kitchen.

you wait for a few minutes, think it just takes a while to actually get to the drinks because of the large crowd of people in the house. you wait a little longer before deciding to go and find chris. you walk through the house and you can hear a group of male voices.

you turn the corner and see chris talking with his frat brothers, and you can’t help but listen in. “so how’s it going with that one girl you’re seeing, the smart one?” one of them asks. “her? there’s nothing going on with her. she’s just a hookup, nothing more. she means nothing to me.” he and his friends all laugh. you immediately lose your breath. you were so stupid to believe you actually meant something to chris. you should have listened to your gut, he’s just like all the rest.

you turn on your heels and walk out of the house, needing fresh air. the moment you walk outside, you break down, tears rolling down your cheeks one after another. you pull out your phone and call jasmine, knowing she’d come pick you up. the phone rings a few times before she answers, “hello?” “jas.” you say through your tears. “y/n? what’s wrong? what happened?” she immediately becomes worried. “can you come get me? i’ll explain everything to you later i just can’t be here any longer.” “of course. stay where you are, i’ll be there in a few.” you hang up the phone and look into the distance.

you then hear your name being called. you turn your head and see chris walking towards you. you look away, knowing that if you looked at him, you’d absolutely lose it. “y/n? are you okay? why’d you come out here?” he asks, completely unaware that you overheard his cruel words. “how could you chris?” he becomes confused now. “how could i what?” “do i really mean nothing to you? is getting into my pants the only thing you want from me?” you’re fighting the urge to sob. “of course not baby. who’s telling you that?” he steps closer to you and you step back, finally meeting his eyes. “you did! i heard you talking to your friends! about how i’m nothing but a hookup!” chris’ face drops. “baby no you got it all wrong. i didn’t mean any of those things i said.” “then why would you say it?! i can’t believe i trusted you! i really thought you were different, but you’re not! you’re just like all the other douchebags on this fucking campus!” you yell in his face. “y/n please i-” “save it.” you cut him off. you see jasmine’s car pull in out of the corner of your eye. “i never wanna see you again.” you tell him before walking to jasmine’s car and getting into the passenger’s seat. she swiftly pulls out and heads towards your dorm.

“what happened y/n? what’d he do to you?” she asks, worriedly. “i overheard him talking shit about me to his friends, about how i mean nothing to him.” you sniffle. “oh babe i’m so sorry. he’s such an asshole.” she reaches her right hand over to rub your back. “i should have known. i’m so fucking stupid.” you lean forwards and put your head in your hands. “no he’s stupid for not realizing what he had.” she reassures you. “i just wanna go home and go to bed.” you say. “of course, we’re almost there.” jasmine says as she continues driving.

once you get back home, you flop onto your bed, not bothering to take your makeup or clothes off. you just lie there and stare at the ceiling, thinking about chris. you thought about how sweet he could be, but it was all just a lie to get you into his bed. it’s bittersweet. you felt so humiliated, but you were glad you found out his true intentions before it was too late. you turn over and look at your phone. there are ten missed calls and about fifty text messages from chris. you shut your phone off, not wanting to deal with him right now.

the next few days, the world seems grey. you have almost no motivation to get out of bed. after a day or so, chris stopped texting you and calling you. you assumed he had given up, until he walked into your work holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a small teddy bear. you looked at him with sadness in your eyes, while chris’ eyes are filled with guilt and regret. “y/n,” he begins. “i’m so sorry for what i said. it was wrong and i promise i didn’t mean it. i just didn’t want them to shit on you for dating me. it’s okay if you don’t forgive me, but i just want you to know that i truly am sorry.” he hands you the flowers and bear. you take them hesitantly and say nothing. you nod and walk away, leaving chris behind looking broken.

chris fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you. not at the party, but the first day he walked into his english lit class. he quickly thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. he wanted to go up to you so bad, but based on the dirty glares you would shoot his way every time he walked into class late, he thought you wouldn’t be interested. when he saw you at the party, however, he couldn’t resist, he had to talk to you. he definitely expected you to turn him down, but he vowed that he wouldn’t give up until you agreed to go on at least one date with him. when you finally did, chris knew he was a goner. you were pretty, smart, and funny. you were perfect. the feelings that chris had for you scared him because he had never felt this way before. he didn’t know what to do. when his friends asked how you two were doing, he panicked. he knew you would get shit for dating him because you two are so different, so he told them you meant nothing, which was the furthest thing from the truth. however, he didn’t consider how those harsh words would affect you. the moment he walked outside and saw you crying, his heart broke. chris fucked up. badly. and he won’t stop until you know that he truly is sorry.

after your shift you go back to your dorm and set the teddy bear on your bed and put the flowers in a vase with water. suddenly, your phone dings, and it’s a text from chris: please let me explain what happened. i promise i’ll tell you everything. you stood there and thought about it before replying: meet me in front of the coffee shop in an hour. you shut your phone off and sit on your bed. you hold your head in your hands before you stand up to change into one of chris’ hoodies that you took and some sweats.

about 45 minutes go by before you’re grabbing your phone and keys and walking out of your dorm and towards the coffee shop. once you get there, you see chris standing outside. once he hears your footsteps, chris turns his head and watches you walk up to him. he smiles a bit seeing you in his hoodie, and his hopes raise just a little.

“y/n. hi.” he says nervously. you just nod at him, not knowing what to say. “look y/n, i know i fucked up. what i said was horrible and i can’t excuse that i just… you scare me.” your eyebrow raises “i scare you? why?” you question him, confused. “because you’re so perfect. you have your life together, you know what you want, and i’m just me.” he says desperately.” you’re still confused. “but that doesn’t make any sense.” chris sighs. “fuck it. y/n i’ve been in love with you for a long time, and i know i’ve never said that and maybe now isn’t the best time to tell you that, but it’s how i feel. i swear if you give me one more chance, i’ll do better. i’ll be better. just please let me prove it to you.” chris begs. you stand there, shifting your feet. you bite the inside of your cheek as you process what he just told you. “you love me? you aren’t just saying that?” you ask. chris steps towards you and cups your cheeks with his hands. “i love you, y/n. i love you so much it’s honestly terrifying, but all i want is to be with you.” he looks into your eyes and you know he’s being honest. “chris.” you begin. “yes?” he asks, hopefully. “kiss me.” chris grins and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling into the kiss. you break away after a few seconds. “but if you ever pull some shit like this again, i’ll cut your dick off christopher.” he laughs out loud. “i wouldn’t expect anything less, ma.” he says before he leans down to kiss you once again.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo angst #christopher sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo

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sttoru · 1 year ago

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♯ 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊.

⟣ sypnosis. kento has been extremely busy lately, going on business trips and so forth. he decides to surprise you by coming back earlier than expected. that’s how you end up finding your lover on top of you, showering you in his affection at 3 in the morning.

⟣ tags. nanami kento x female reader. fluff, bit of angst, suggestive towards the end. reader gets called 'sweetheart, angel, dear' wc: 1.8k

⟣ note. okayokay finally an adition to my event heheh ive almost forgotten about it but then i saw this prompt & was like . ok nanami , i must write this rnnn no delaying anymore so here i am :3 its also very bad. i hate it sm LOL i hope u at least like it t_t

kento often asks himself why he had returned to the world he despised — the jujutsu society; his old high school. the sprawling curses everywhere are the main cause of his current misery.

he had been sent out on missions left and right, not catching a break in hopes of reducing any more civilian causalities than necessary. kento had even thought that maybe his previous 9-5 job wasn’t as bad as he had considered it.

overtime was every day for the sorcerer now. that wasn’t the worst thing - no - the fact that he was pratically living a long distant relationship with his beloved irritated him most.

a thought he had in his high school days reoccured in a moment of distress: ‘why not leave all those missions to gojo?’

you were still pretty understanding of his situation. kento appreciated that, though the guilt still ate away at him whenever he tried to sleep. an empty bed welcomed him each time he re-entered his hotel room — you saw the exact same scenery when returning home to your shared apartment.

both of you were adults; both knowing that life was unfair. the two of you being unable to see each other from time to time was a part of your life. kento and you still maintained a healthy relationship. that was all that really mattered in the end.

11:49PM. . . tonight wasn’t unlike any other night; you were preparing yourself to go to bed—changing into your pyjamas after showering, snuggling to a pillow under the covers and texting your lover one last message.

‘good luck on your mission as always! stay safe, i love you.’

you stare at your phone screen for a minute longer than intended. even if you tried to be mature about it — you longed for kento’s warmth and undivided attention. you want him with you, his strong arms holding you to his chest as you rest, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible.

you sigh defeatedly and put your phone down on your nightstand. just two days until you could see your partner again. you can hold onto that hope to keep you calm.

despite you trying to stay positive, you tossed and turned in your bed as you thought about kento’s safety. there was always a chance of him not coming home to you — always the possibility of that bed to be empty for the rest of your life.

all you could do was pray for his safety in your head whilst your eyes eventually closed from fatigue, your mind drifting off to a deep slumber.

03:14AM. . . kento opens the door he had wished to have opened way earlier. the door that lead to the place where his heart lays; the person who claimed his heart and soul for eternity. you.

he didn’t think he’d actually do it. kento had originally planned to finish his last job as soon as possible and then get home afterwards, but there seemed to be a change in routine.

the special grade sorcerer simply assigned the mission to ino — the person whom he could trust most to finish the job in one piece. as much as kento dislikes to put his juniors in possible risky situations, there are also situations where it’s fine to depend on them. besides, the mission could easily be done by a grade one sorcerer.

kento sighs. the familiar scent of your home was one he could recognise from miles away. one that could calm his nerves instantly. it was that same distinctive scent you carry; thus why your lover sometimes calls you his home.

‘i can’t wait to be home’ ‘i want to be home’ ‘i’m going home’ — all these sentences, which kento has uttered before in earlier conversations, weren’t referring to a place. rather to a person he held dear.

“oh, my sweetheart.” the blonde man whispers under his breath as his eyes catch the shape of your figure under the blankets. he quietly enters the master bedroom and closes the door behind him, not making a sound as to not interrupt your well-deserved sleep.

kento slowly undoes his dotted tie, along with the upper buttons of his blouse. he probably needs to go take a good shower before he could settle down with you — but that’d risk waking you up.

you look extremely angelic in his eyes. especially with your left cheek squished by the soft pillow your head rests on. you never once fail to convince him that you are indeed the woman of his dreams; the woman kento ever had and will have eyes for. it’s like you get more attractive to him as the days go on.

“mh,” your sudden and soft groan makes him realise just how disturbing his behaviour could be interpreted as. kento’s body was hovering over your sleeping one and he was just. . . staring at you with a soft smile. a smile which he didn’t even notice had permanently found its place on his weary face.

kento sits down on the edge of the mattress, callused hand gently tucking you in properly, putting the blanket over your shoulders to make sure you didn’t get cold. he can’t rest if you’re not comfortable— even if he himself was exhausted to the point his eyes were starting to feel heavy.

yet that exhaustion doesn’t last long. it never does when kento’s able to see you again after a tiring week of countless missions and other jobs. your presence alone grants him the energy to stay awake and take care of you. and himself. you’re the reason he keeps it going.

“i love you so much, my beautiful girl — my angel.”

kento sure was a romantic. even when you’re unaware and asleep.

he couldn’t help it; the feeling stirring inside of him. the feeling of adoration and love for you. you are simply resting, yet kento felt an urge to kiss you all over, show you the unending love he has for you. but. . that’d probably be disturbing your peace. you are sleeping after all. he

not that that would stop kento.

your eyes flutter open due to a sudden presence hovering over you. your entire face and neck area was feeling ticklish, like someone was placing tens of kisses all over the skin.

strands of blonde hair is the first thing showing up in your blurry vision. kento’s face follows afterwards as his head tilts back up, the warmth against your jawline disappearing along with it —

“ah, i’m sorry.” a low and almost guilty chuckle tumbles out of his sore throat. the visible confusion on your face makes him let out another, “shh, shh, it’s just me, sweetheart.”

your arms flew around kento’s torso the second the realisation dawns upon you. your heart went from a slow pace to one that caused your entire body to warm up immediately; the adorable reaction and increase in heart rate not going unnoticed by your lover.

you wordlessly hug him — almost still in shock by the sudden appearance. kento doesn’t fight off your tight embrace, instead, welcomes it with open arms. the delicate kisses on your skin continue, each being placed with precision whilst one of his hands keeps your head tilted a little — rough fingers being a contrast of the gentle grip they had on your jaw.

“i missed you lots,” kento murmurs, eyes closed as he basks in the warmth of your body, his lips refusing to let go of your neck, “i couldn’t wait anymore. i couldn’t be separated from you any longer or i’d lose it.”

his gruff voice sounded even deeper than it usually would. maybe due to the overuse of it during his missions. the lone thought makes you pout — the thought of kento working super hard just to provide for you both.

“i missed you more, love.” you mumble, bottom lip trembling a little as kento’s hug triggers a whole lot of emotions in you. his hugs were special, his muscular arms giving you a sense of comfort you couldn’t find anywhere. no one could hug you like he did, “you did well. you did so well.”

those were all the words kento needed. his lips come to halt right above your collarbone, his breath a bit heavy from how much he's holding himself back from doing more. one hand moves from your cheek to your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt.

“thank you, dear.” kento says. his words carrying a load of unending affection. your simple words of appreciation and encouragement makes him shiver in delight. this is what he longed for; this is what he did it all for.

it was clear. the answer to his question - of why he had returned to the jujutsu world, to become a teacher at his former high school - it was all for you. to be able to be with you, see you and hold you like this. to have someone like you appreciate all of his efforts.

“may i?” kento asks through a quiet whisper as he gently removes the blanket covering your figure, his eyes darting down towards your cleavage. he's asking for permission to cross that barrier — to cover you in the love you deserve.

you just stare at the blonde man above you for a second. you watch as he climbs onto the bed with you; the bed which was once empty and dull, now suddenly becoming your favourite place to be at. your fingertips graze against kento's sharp cheekbones. a habit you always did when you were appreciating his looks.

“go right ahead.” you answer with a confirming nod.

both of you were touch starved and had been deprived from each other's embrace for way too long. now was the perfect time to make up for all the time lost.

kento wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip past him. he smiles at you, a gentle and handsome smile, whilst a few of his blonde locks fall over his left eye — his hands already prying away the blanket covering your shape. it was time to show you just how much he has longed for you.

“hold on to me, sweetheart. i’m not stopping until you realise just how much i’ve missed all of you.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #nanami x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #jjk fic #jjk fanfic

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wickworks · 2 months ago

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Lancer Tactics dialogue layout crisis of faith

(from this month's backer update)

Every so often, I'll run into something in development that eats away at me until it pushes me to a crisis of faith and I have a breakdown, burn down a bunch of work, and build something better from the ashes. These are moments of transformation and we're almost always able to come out the other side with something much better than what we started with.

This all sounds very dramatic until you take a step back and see the issue in question is just, like, the layout of a menu. But if medieval priests were able to have schisms over angels on pins I can have strong feelings about graphic design, dammit!

This month's episode revolved around how we're doing character dialogue. For reference the plan was to do a standard 4-slot visual-novel talking heads layout. I call it a 4-slot because there's usually four positions that characters can stand; two on the left, two on the right:

I had it ingame, and it was working. But... something felt off. Do you see the difference between every one of the above examples and this?

It's all about perspective, baby.

Answer: all the character art in those examples are drawn at a slight angle so they can be flipped back and forth to be made like they're looking at each other.

Trying to do this with the perspective we chose early — straight on — makes for a chorus line of weirdos who are looking directly into your soul as they ostensibly chat with each other. Credulity is strained; the illusion of these puppets interacting in the same space is paper-thin.

(I was skeptical of choosing this perspective for this reason, but we ultimately went with it to make the customizable assets in the portrait maker easier to fit together)

We tried a bunch of different layouts, but they all at least one of these problems:

they'd stare into your soul while ostensibly directing comments elsewhere.

they felt like text messages; this would be fine if that's what we were going for, but we wanted something that could represent face-to-face conversations. (Tactical Breach Wizards was able to pull this style off because they had little 3D dioramas to go along with it)

or, most damning of all, they felt like zoom calls.

So, my heart aflutter and spirit in want, I spent a day doing a research dive into various dialogue layouts (bless the Game UI Database!) to see if any other games had managed to pull this character art perspective off. I ended up with this massive non-chronological taxonomic tree:

(fullsize here)

The type of layout that particularly caught my eye was this style where each character had their own little box. These layouts borrow a concept from comic books called "closure" where the space and time between characters are left blank. Freed from the constraints of trying to simulate a single space, these layouts allow the reader to fill in the blanks with something that feels more true-to-life than anything we'd be able to render ourselves.

I was especially impressed with the dynamism of Tales of Symphonia and The World Ends With You; rather than sticking to single slots they would animate the entire panels moving around to indicate motion an relative position of characters.

So we threw out the old code and copied them. Here's what we've come up with:

We'll be able to have portraits interact, like smacking each other (I felt like a kid hitting two action figures together, lol)

We can also apply effects like princess-leia-holograms and full-screen "lighting" effects like warning banners:

Carpenter and I came up with a number of arrangements that the portraits can smoothly transition between:

I've also implemented support for choices during a dialogue, potentially leading to branching paths.

Overall, I feel SO much better about this system than our initial designs. It might feel a little more cartoony, but I think we're making a cartoony game so that's not a problem.

Whew. We bit a lot off to chew with this project. I feel like I just made a second visual novel game engine inside of the first. Fingers crossed that it all ends up worth it.

#lancer tactics #made with godot #godot 4 #game design #indie dev

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lavenderspence · 3 months ago

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Needy & Embarrassed | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Content warning: MDNI, 18+ for suggestive themes, mentions of sex, suggested soft!dom aaron, embarrassment, the team lowkey being little shits

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: You needed him so much, you ended up embarrassing you both.

Request: hey if you're looking for funny requests, what about Hotch's fuckbuddy calling for a booty call at the worst time possible while he's on a case and the bau team hear everything (idk if his phone is broken or it's on his comms or something??) and won't let it go? Feel free to adapt and make it your own! I just love to embarrass that old man and break that stoic wall lol

A/N: okay this was supposed to be funny, but it ended up more of a hoe fic, for the horny girlies (it’s me, i’m a horny girly). It’s very mild though. Pretty please, don't let this baby flop and enjoy!

Requests are CLOSED! | masterlist

The phone rang, once, twice, it kept ringing and he wasn’t picking up.

You’d called him twice in the last 20 minutes, but he hadn’t answered. You knew he was busy, you knew he was working, and tirelessly at that, catching monsters and putting them away, putting them in their place.

But the truth was, you really needed him to put you in your place. You were hot, desperate for him - desperate to touch him, take all of his worries, and have him go pliant against you. Have him touch you, circle all the places that made you sing into the quiet, and make small goosebumps and beads of sweat cover your skin.

You needed his fingers to touch you in the most electrifying way possible, challenge all of the strength and power he had over you.

You needed to feel him push inside, the blunt tip of his dragging against your walls. His head buried at the crook of your neck - panting, licking, teeth scraping against the tender flesh. You maybe even needed him to leave a small bruise or two - it’s not like he hadn’t done it before.

Just thinking about him like that, about the power he held over you and the things you wanted him to do to you in that very moment, was making you hot - your clit pulsing in desperation.

This desire overtook all of your senses - you needed him with a passion. You needed him against you, inside you. You needed to be surrounded by him and his scent. You needed to surrender and let him lead this. And you needed it now.

You redialed his number - you knew you should stop, but all rational thoughts had left your brain when that first fantasy, first scene, had invaded your mind.

The phone rang again, and it rang, and he still wasn't picking up. You started scratching at your cuticles, the desire to take matters into your own hands was strong. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate it though, not at all. He never did - he was just a bit possessive like that.

For a year, as long as you'd known him, he'd been the only one to touch you. You’d met at a bar one late fall evening. He’d been drinking with a group of friends, his team, you had learned later. And you were at the bar with your best friend. The night had stretched, and so had the drinks.

Next thing you knew, a bathroom stall had been occupied, your skirt pushed up and the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone. Kisses were swapped, flesh ended up red and muscles deliciously stretched. A lipstick kiss was left on his peck - nice and vibrant against his soft skin.

It was quick, and it was easy. Electric didn’t even begin to describe it. But it was casual, and that’s the way it’s been since then.

Nights well spent - ending up boneless under the sheets was just one call away. And that’s exactly what you needed at that moment. You needed him to make you relax, to see stars, and reach heights you only ever reached with him.

You hadn’t seen him in two weeks, maybe that's where this desire, all the urgency came from. You’d planned to see each other after he returned from a case in Wisconsin, but not 24 hours after his return, they’d caught a case in San Diego and he’d left again.

There was one final way you knew you’d be able to reach him, but you’d never tried it. He’d said it was only for emergencies. But your “emergency” wasn't an emergency, to begin with, it was rather an increasing need for the man who wasn't answering.

You played with the idea, trying to stop yourself from doing something irrational. In the end though, when it came to him and this thing between you, this need, but you couldn’t even think - all you felt was desire, hot, searing want.

You opened your phone, looking for the phone number before your thumb hovered over the call button, and the next thing you knew, you were holding it to your ear.

The round table was full of files scattered around one over the other. The coffee cups were emptied long ago, and no one had bothered to start a new pot. Everyone knew their time was better spent finishing the paperwork and going home.

Maybe that’s why nobody paid attention when the phone in the middle of the table started ringing. Maybe that’s why he hardly paid attention when he answered the call.

“Hotchner.” It came out tired and distracted. He was barely listening, even when the line cracked and a voice finally answered.

“Hi, Aaron.” A purr sounded from the other side, low and seductive, if a bit unsure. “Baby…I really need to see you right now. I'm so worked up, so needy. I can't wait anymore, I need your mouth wrapped-” He rose to his full height, his brain suddenly putting two and two together, his heart pounding.

“Now’s not a good time Y/N.” He rushed to stop you from saying any more, every eye in the room focused on him, and the phone, making them an audience to a far too intimate conversation you shouldn’t be having.

“Look, I know you said I should only call this number in case of an emergency, but Aaron, I cannot stop thinking about your co -” He pressed the end call button at lighting speed, feeling himself get hot, in embarrassment…maybe even in want.

Everyone stood still, silent, holding their breath, eyes wide and curious, and turned towards their boss. Looking, waiting for a reaction, anything.

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, to erase your voice and the words you’d said to him - trying to stop himself from the added embarrassment that may follow if he didn’t. Just your voice, the desperation laced into your usual timber was making his body react, and not in an appropriate way.

“Well, that’s one way to go about it. “ Rossi commented, putting an end to the awkward silence. Penelope broke out in laughter, quickly followed by Morgan and Emily, and everyone joined in.

“Poor girl. This does sound like an emergency Hotch,” Emily added before another big laugh followed.

He scoffed and picked up his suit jacket, “We’re done, go home.” He grumbled, before making a beeline for the door.

“And don’t forget to wrap it before you tap it, boss. Girly seriously sounded like she needed that d-” Penelope’s voice followed him, “Too far? Okay.” He heard her murmur but he didn’t stop.

No, determination led him outside the bullpen and down the elevator as he pulled his phone out and found your contact, typing a text.

You better be ready, because this little scene you just caused? It’s going to cost you, baby.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #hotchner x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner request #lavenderspence smut

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aemondsbabe · 11 months ago

Text

Ñuha Zaldrīzes

summary: future & facesitting || discussing wishes for your baby with your husband turns into something more

pairing: daemon targaryen x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, pregnant reader, oral sex (f receiving), allusions to piv sex, dirty talk, daemon being soft and loving we love to see it, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy day eight of 12 days of smuff!!! surely this counts as future otherwise i'd have them fucking in a spaceship & that just didn't sit right with me

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @pedropcl

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

A soft giggle bursts from your lips as Daemon’s hand skirts over your large belly yet again, his soft touches tickling your skin as his hand ghosts lovingly over your bump, the delicate lacy fabric of your nightgown bunched around his wrist.

“Okay, okay, so,” you say breathily, finally calming down as his touch seems to settle on your hip, “If it’s a little girl, perhaps Vaenera? And for a little boy… Vaenor?” You suggest, your breath warm against the prince’s neck as you rest your cheek against his shoulder, tucked safely into his side atop your silk covered bed.

“I still think we should name her Visenya,” the blond drawls, tracing soothing patterns into your hip as he holds you against him, “With a nice strong name like that, she will grow to greatness.”

You stay silent for a moment, your eyes locked onto the fluid movements of the sheer curtains that lead out onto the balcony, watching as they blow in the breeze carried in by the Narrow Sea. Daemon can’t help but notice you still against him and he smiles softly when he sees that familiar, far off look in your eyes – always his dreamer.

“Where did you go?” He asks gently, all traces of the usual brash, cocky tone with which he speaks gone.

“Nowhere,” you smile, tilting your head up to peer at him through your lashes, “I was merely thinking of what kind of person this little one will grow up to be.” You stroke a hand over your belly as you speak, your smile only growing as you feel a soft, barely there kick against your palm.

“If they’re even half as kind and gentle as their mother, the world will be a much better place with them in it,” your husband whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A pink blush blooms across the apples of your cheeks, as it always does when he speaks so tenderly.

“And if they’re half as hard headed as their father, well… somehow, I will love them all the more,” you whisper, laughing yet again as Daemon trails his fingers over your side, tickling you purposefully this time.

“Me, hard headed?” He teases, laughing along with you, “I’m not the one that nearly sent the kitchens into a tailspin this evening when they demanded duck, now am I?” His violet eyes sparkled in the low light of the candles that flickered around the room, a teasing smirk etched across his face.

“That’s very unfair!” You giggle, leaning up to properly look at him. “You know how I am when I’m with child,” you huff, your blush only deepening when you see his eyes darken just slightly as his gaze flits over you, “Especially once it’s this far along; all I want is roast duck and–”

“And lemon cakes at every meal,” Daemon finishes for you, softly smiling, “Yes, sweetling, the entire castle is most aware.” He chuckles.

“Then the kitchens should know to have duck, that’s all I’m saying…” You grumble, sinking back down into his embrace. The two of you relax into a comfortable silence for many minutes, your husband’s breathing so steady and calm that you assume he’s fallen asleep. When he speaks again, his soft voice almost startles you.

“The kitchens did particularly well with the lemon cakes this evening…”

Your eyebrows furrow together at the statement and you lift your head again, meaning to give him a confused stare. The cakes were exceptionally good this evening, but you can’t help but notice the teasing lilt in his voice.

You open your mouth to speak, but the darkness in Daemon’s eyes gives you pause, a breathy, barely audible whimper escaping your lips before you have a chance to stop it.

“However, I can’t help but be in the mood for a much different type of dessert, little wife.” He says lowly, gently pulling you up until your faces are level, careful to be ever conscious of your growing stomach.

“Daemon –” You start, only to be cut off with a searing kiss as he presses his lips to yours. You whimper against his lips, your head already spinning in his embrace as his tongue toys with yours.

“It’s been so long,” he starts, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, nibbling at one spot that always has you seeing stars, “Since you’ve let me have what I want.”

“H-Husband,” you gasp breathlessly, your nails digging helplessly into his chest as you cling to him, “You had me just this, Gods, this morning for breakfast, if you’ll recall.” You managed to say between whimpers and gasps as he practically feasted on the sensitive spot on your neck, his hands softly kneading and caressing your breasts.

He makes a small, displeased hum before he pulls back to look at you, his dark eyes studying you carefully before a small smirk grows on his lips, “You know very well that’s not what I’m after.”

Your eyes widen just slightly as you finally catch his meaning; you shake your head with a small chuckle. “Surely you can’t be serious,” your smile fades as he holds your stare with a small, unchanging smirk, “Daemon, I’ll crush you!”

“And what an honorable death that would be, sweet wife,” he chuckles, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he lifts you up and onto his lap, your head spins as you feel his already hard length pressing against you through the thin linen breeches he has on, “I’ll be fine, it’s not as if this is exactly new territory for us…” He teases, gently skirting his hands over your belly.

“We’ve never done it when I’ve been… like this, though,” you shyly point out, looking down at your bump.

“Do you really not see how insatiable I become every time you’re with child?” Daemon asks, his voice soft and gentle, “I will only ever have you like this a scant few times. Please, sweetling, let me savor it.”

Biting your lip, you gaze down at him, eyes trailing across his bare chest and shoulders and up the strong column of his neck before they finally settle on his face – the look in his eyes nearly making you gasp. His violet eyes are fixed on you, roaming over your body with so much love and adoration that you feel as if you may melt from it.

Before you even register the movement, you’re nodding.

Daemon’s eyes instantly flick up to yours, sparkling with victory. His hands grip your hips again, gently guiding you up his muscular form as he silently thanks the Seven that you wear nothing beneath your Myrish lace nightgowns. A loud groan practically bursts from the prince’s chest once you’re positioned over his face; he loves being surrounded by you — loves the way your soft thighs bracket his head, the way you position your dripping center perfectly over his mouth, and the way the only thing he sees when he looks up is your belly, swollen with his seed, his child.

If it were up to Daemon, he would happily spend the rest of his days here.

Your chest heaves as you grip the headboard of the bed, your heart hammering in your chest from the anticipation of it. You whimper softly as his hands, rough from so many years of sword fighting and dragon riding, grab at your thighs and hips.

He presses soft, sweet kisses to the inside of your thighs before licking a slow, steady line up your center; you can feel him smirk triumphantly against you as moans and whimpers spill from your lips.

“Oh, Gods, Daemon!” You gasp, voice already ragged as you white-knuckle the headboard. Your thighs tremble with the effort of holding yourself even a fraction of an inch above your husband’s face, something he notices quite quickly. A displeased growl rumbles from his chest, making you pant as it vibrates against your core.

“Fucking sit,” Daemon rasps, tugging you against his mouth, his tongue roughly spearing into you as he grinds your pearl against his nose, hands moving your hips against his face.

Your mind all but whites out as he rocks you against him, nose and tongue working in perfect tandem to send shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeeze shut, frantic moans pouring from your mouth as a fire steadily builds within you.

“H-Husband,” you pant, walls clenching tightly around his tongue as he groans into your heat, “I— Fuck, I’m—!” You can hardly get the words out as Daemon seals his lips around your sensitive bud, suckling it at a maddening pace as his hands move down to cup your ass, kneading it roughly.

Your face flushes at the slick sounds pouring from between your thighs as the prince growls against you, sounding as if he’s gaining as much satisfaction as you are. Your core clenches at the thought, pleasure threatening to consume you.

“Daemon!” You cry urgently, shaking above him, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. You want so badly to thread your fingers through his hair as you normally would, but you can’t even see his face around your protruding belly.

He groans loudly beneath you once more and fucks his tongue back into you, causing the knot in your belly to pull tightly before finally unraveling. Sparks burst behind your eyelids, your back arching as your whole body tenses and relaxes in time with his movements.

The prince moans appreciatively, messily drinking down your pleasure as you peak on top of him. You jump when one of his hands smacks against your ass, the tingling sting extending your release, the intensity of it nearly making you go mad.

Finally, once your signs of relief have turned into whimpers of overstimulation, Daemon releases you with a pleased hum, helping you shuffle back down his body until you’re straddling his hips once again.

You laugh softly at the sight of him — his cheeks flushed a light pink, hair sticking up at odd angles, and a pleased, self-satisfied grin on his face.

“You look as if you were the one who was ravished, my dragon,” you tease, your heart rate slowly returning to normal as you trace over the muscular dips in his chest and stomach.

The prince chuckles lowly, his violet eyes still dark with lust as he takes in your curves. “Ravishing you is a pleasure in and of itself, sweet wife,” he drawls, smirking as you gasp at the feel of his cock against your sensitive core as he rolls his hips against you, “I trust you’ll allow me to feel it again?” He asks, that all too familiar cocky tone back, as if asking is merely a formality.

Sighing happily, you bite your lip as you stare down at him, the knot in your belly beginning to tighten again as you feel his length pressing hotly to you.

“I believe that can be arranged.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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groovyangelkisses · 5 months ago

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hi my sweet baby suse :') love you sm n'just wanna know your thoughts when it comes to sitting on jax's lap <3 would he pet your hair? call you sweet little pet names? just wonderin' <3

anything for you clo, my pretty girl ! 🫶🏻

this became super long-winded, i just think he's neat :')

cw: jealousy, slight! innocence kink, potential 'opie yearning for reader' moment (who's shocked?) slightly nsfw

personally, i think jax is constantly pulling his girl into his lap. whether it's because tig is getting a little too friendly, or you've been talking (gazing) at opie for a tiny bit longer than he'd like, it's like you make a movement & you're in his lap. he's very "hey, where you goin' sweetheart, hm?" all teasing and smug and smiley, pulling you by the wrist to sit on him.

while jax loves having you in his lap to see you get all blushy and shy "c'mon darlin' they all know you love sittin' on me" (never letting the opportunity for innuendo pass him by,) he also loves the sense of pride that he gets from having a pretty, sweet thing like you perched in his lap. while jax is all leather and dirty t-shirts and baggy jeans, you're sweet pastels and soft fabrics— the warmth that jax is slowly starting to feel in his heart again.

and he'll take any form of lap sitting, by the way. if you're sitting directly on him, after you deliver some comment about jax bein the "comfiest, cleanest chair here!" he'll laugh, and wrap his big arms around your tummy, his face in your hair, whispering dirty jokes and funny comments about juice and chibs in your ear.

and if you're sitting sideways? legs spread across his lap and dangling over his thighs? his hands never leave them. one hand protectively holds your ankle, fingers lightly fiddling with the cold "J" anklet he bought just for you. his other hand slides up and down your leg, pausing to lay his palm flat on your knee, or to slide his extended hand up the sides of your thigh. and jax knows nooo personal space with you, by the way. so you two are face to face as he talks, his strong nose brushing against yours, and when he leans over to tell you a secret, his beard brushes against your cheek. eventually, his hand starts to slide up the center of your thighs, and his lips get a little too close to the sweetest spot on your neck, and he notices opie looking at the smooth skin of your face too long, and suddenly he can't help himself. nights like those usually end with you happily skipping behind jax as he leads you to his clubhouse room, trying to supress a smile at your obvious affection and excitement for him.

that being said, jax is a veerrrryy jealous person, so whenever he senses a prospect gettin' a little too close for his liking, he'll give you the look and you'll know where to go. of course, jax never tells you exactly why he'll suddenly stop your conversation with happy and ask you to come (essentially) straddle him in the clubhouse— he never wants you to know the true, horribly corrupt fantasies of the other male bikers.

so he'll take you in his lap, hooking your arms over his shoulders and pulling you together; chest to chest, him pressing against your panties in a comforting way. jax will pull the hem of your dress down and hold it still (he saw them trying to take a peek, and if he's being honest it took everything in him not to flip the pool table and start screaming) and start the sweetest little whispers in your bejeweled ear "my sweet girl, you know how pretty you are, hm? you know everybody here wants you? but they can't have you right? can they?"

and like clockwork, this same song and dance you get into everytime there's a meeting, you nod happily. and jax'll smile, a nice, wide, shit-eating grin aimed just as much at you as it is at the other samcro members looking onward; always yearning for a girl like you— loving, loyal, only having eyes for the blondie they all yearn to be.

his hand will move to your hair, softly running his fingers through it, soft applogies leaving his lips as your hair gets tangled in his rings, and he'll always kiss the corners of your lips to make up for it. he'll press your head to his chest, a big, protective hand sprawling across the back of your hair, holdin' you to him "just rest your eyes a little darlin', i gotta talk to the guys abit, kay?"

oh and he will. his hands running up and down your back and hair, in lulls of the conversation he'll kiss your cheek and ask quietly "still with me, babe?" and wait for your comfortable purr of "mmhmm" and continue on with the conversation. and he knows no one will ever say anything, they wouldn't dare. you're his little "doe in the headlights" and beyond jax's admittance, he needs to feel you in his hands just to get through the fear that he battles with everyday— the fear of disappointing the club, trampling his father's legacy, losing you. the thought makes him tighten his grip on you, hugging you like a child hugs their teddy bear, and the pressure, the sheer weight of his love is so fulfilling, you'll happily flirt with juice if it means it'll always end with jax holding you like this.

#suse loves clo! <3 #thanks clo baby!#this got super long i'm so sorry!#jackie boy <3 #jax teller headcanons #jax teller x you #jax teller oneshot #jax teller x reader #jax teller #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy #soa x reader #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam

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binsito · 1 year ago

Text

puppy

pairing: puppy hybrid!seungmin x puppy hybrid!fem reader

word count: 1.3k

rating: mature, includes: unprotected sex, swearing, lots of breeding and mentions of breeding/being in heat, little bit of oral (f receiving), and clit simulation, usage of the words "pup," and "good girl" in a sexual setting

seungmin was a very good boy.

an obedient pup.

and he liked being that way anyways. liked making his owner proud and happy. liked having a good life, and being treated with upmost care, being pampered and spoiled.

he knew he was his owner's favorite boy and he liked that title very, very much.

he would do anything to make his owner happy. so when he hears him say his name on the phone one day, (puppy ear pressed against the door to listen closely), he can't help but wag his tail in excitement.

he could make out some of the words being discussed.

heat.

breed.

help.

they wanted seungmin to help with someone's heat?

if one of his owner's friends needed help, he was more than willing to oblige.

he was more than happy to breed the poor pup in distress over her heat.

seungmin had never had a rut with someone else, he always just took care of himself, whether it was humping one of his plushies or jerking his cock to completion.

but he would be lying if he said he didn't think about spending a rut with someone. how fun it would be to pump them full of his pups, how he'd love to cum in them over and over again until they're writhing underneath him.

his owner made plans with his friend and they decided to bring seungmin over the weekend to take care of the situation at hand.

seungmin was excited.

bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for his owner's friend to open up the door.

it was finally the big day and he couldn't help but dream about this moment. it was all that was on his mind whenever he would curl up in bed.

would her pussy be pretty? would it suck him in easily? or would she be tight? would his knot take?

so many questions that he needed to know the answer to.

and when the door gets opened, he has to contain himself from running inside.

oh god, he could smell her.

the scent was so strong that it could make his mouth water.

his owner's friend welcomes them in and offers them something to drink before leading them to the room where his pup was currently in.

the scent was making seungmin go absolutely mad. he wanted to break through the door and take her already.

he opened the door and seungmin could see her bundled up in the middle of the bed. they let him inside and closed the door, the two of them would leave and come back in about two hours, plenty of time for seungmin to have his fun.

seungmin got on the bed and made himself over to you, nudging you gently with his hand.

"hey pup.. you okay?" he whispered

you whimpered as you shook your head

"h-hurts s'bad.."

"i know pup.. it's okay.. im here to make it feel better yeah? will you let me make it feel better?"

you didnt hesitate to nod, you knew about the arrangement and were just so glad he was finally here to help.

"good girl.. gonna take care of it okay?"

you nodded yet again and lifted your head to look over at him. he was cute, floppy brown hair covering his eyebrows. sweet sympathetic smile as he stroked your arm gently. he introduced himself as seungmin and you repeated his name gently before telling him your name.

"pretty name for a pretty pup.." he said as he leaned in towards your neck, taking in your scent and letting out a pleased sigh.

"you smell so good pup.. are you gonna let me have you? i've been going crazy thinking about it.."

"p-please.. don't want it to hurt anymore.."

"alright, alright.. just be good for me okay?"

of course you'd be good to him, you'd be pliant and well behaved just for him.

your core clenched around nothing, feeling as he got on top of you, rubbing his clothed erection against you.

"feel that pup? that's for you.." he whispered against your ear

you reached forward and tugged on his pants, needing to free him as soon as possible because you needed the relief.

seungmin didn't want to keep you waiting either, tugging his pants and boxers down as his cock sprung free. the tip was an angry red, precum already dribbling at the tip.

he asked you to lift your hips up so he could take your shorts off, pulling them off and tossing them off the side of the bed.

and your pussy was in fact pretty, glistening with wetness, lips puffy and waiting to be spread.

oh, seungmin was definitely going to enjoy this.

he dragged a lone finger between your folds which elicited a whimper from you. collecting some of your essence just so he could taste it off his fingers

"shit pup.. this tastes delicious.." he grunted before coming down to be face to face with your cunt.

he began to give it little licks before he started to lap at it hungrily which made you lose your mind. the sensation of his tongue on your cunt was something you never knew you needed before and now you were afraid you wouldn't be able to live another heat without it.

he was messy, face smeared with your wetness as he looked up at you with half lidded eyes, keeping eye contact as he spit down on your cunt.

he pulled himself up again and let his tip prob at your entrance, you wiggled underneath him in hopes that he would just put it in already.

"patience, pup.. gotta train this pussy to take me kay? don't want it to hurt, when i put it in hm?" he gave you a half smile as he held the base of his cock, running it between your fold just before pressing the tip in.

his cockhead was thick and bulbous, you knew the stretch was going to leave you sore but the soreness would feel so much better than the pain of being left empty during your heat.

he presses in inch by inch, kicking his head back to groan as you sucked him in. he gripped your thighs and folded them over your chest as he bottomed out, holding you down in a mating press.

if he was here to breed you, he was going to make sure his cum would stick.

"oh pup.. once i'm done with you.. you won't have to worry about another heat for a while.." he groans as he started to shallowly thrust into your warmth. "gonna leave you so full of my puppies.."

your whimpers filled his ears, hands trying to claw at him to pull him closer even though he was already skin to skin with you.

this was so much better than his hand, your cunt so tight and welcoming, so breedable..

his bangs sticking to his forehead as he began to sweat, his muscles lean yet he had an iron grip on your thighs

his balls began to tighten, he wasn't sure how long he could last but even if he came, he knew he would be able to go again and again. your cunt was just too good to not abuse.

his nimble fingers rubbed tight circles on your clit all while his cock continued to leave you babbling.

"f-fuck.. oh fuck.. you gonna take my cum?"

you nodded and his chest swelled with pride, coming down to lick at your cheek playfully as his knot began to swell. you whined as he pushed in to the hilt and held himself still to fill you up, his hot seed leaving you full.

he didn't want a drop to go to waste, not moving until he was sure he was completely milked.

you were dreading him pulling out, clenching your cunt around him so that he wouldn't. he just chuckled and pressed a kiss to your pretty lips.

"so greedy.. i promise i'll give you more, not gonna give out until im sure i've bred you."

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

#skz smut #stray kids smut #binsito #stray kids x reader #seungmin stray kids #stray kids seungmin #seungmin smut #kim seungmin stray kids #seungmin #seungmin x reader #hybrid #puppy!seungmin

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alexiroflife · 5 months ago

Text

"red"

MDNI, very suggestive content

satoru gojo x singer!reader

Synopsis: utahime brings satoru and shoko to a bar to watch her friend perform, and satoru is immediately whipped for you the moment you step on stage. utahime warns him, however, not to get close to you, but how could he refuse the way you look at him?

to sum it up: you have a strong effect on men, satoru included, and despite the stories utahime tells him about you, you match other's freak

WC: 15,482

Warning(s): smut smut smut, unprotected sex, dom/switch, vulgar language,

happy 500 followers!! thank you all so much for your love and support, you're all amazing. i can't believe there are already half a thousand of you. here is my gift to you and i hope you enjoy <3

The moment Utahime proposed going out to see her friend perform at a grungy bar smack in the middle of the city, Satoru was incredibly skeptical. Normally, the white haired sorcerer was left in charge of staff outings since, according to him, he had the most creativity out of the group of professors that trekked out into the late night after long, grueling weeks of training their students.

It was a good thing he took charge of their activities, too, since everyone else’s suggestions were always so boring. Nanami’s idea of an entertaining night out wasn’t even to actually go out, but to stay indoors with a cup of tea and a newspaper cracked open over his lap. Yaga tended to lean toward artistic outings, such as pottery barns or knitting classes, solely due to the bias of his cursed technique. Ichiji hardly ever even made any suggestions himself, often allowing other opinions to overpower his own to the point where he didn’t even want to bother chiming in. Shoko only really wanted to visit anywhere that allowed her to drink and smoke, so she wasn’t much of a problem. And Mei Mei, well, Satoru hardly knew what the hell motivated Mei Mei’s interests aside from some means to winning money, and he was never too keen on allowing her rather questionable interests to lead the group out.

While everyone liked to complain when Satoru dragged them along to engage in the things he wanted to do, they normally all ended up enjoying themselves by the time the night was over. Even Utahime, who would have stepped freely into oncoming traffic before admitting that Satoru’s suggestion that she would initially turn her nose up at the beginning of the night brought a smile to her face by the middle of the evening. He had a knack for these kinds of things, bringing his colleagues together socially in the best ways he deemed how.

Nevertheless, the indigo haired woman pushed her luck enough to finally let Satoru relent his control for one single evening when she groaned on and on about how she refused to miss the performance of some woman she hadn’t even bothered to mention until now. Satoru only did so for the sake of gloating purposes in case this so-called friend of hers turned out to be far less engaging than Utahime claimed. He determined that she wouldn’t hear the end of it for as long as the two of them kept in contact from this night going forward.

Tonight, the group had narrowed down to a select few as well. Mei Mei thankfully had duties to attend to elsewhere, Ichiji had to babysit his niece, and Nanami downright turned down the evening completely, leaving only him, Shoko, and Utahime alone to attend this mystery friend’s show.

Utahime had in fact begged Satoru not to tag along once she realized that so few people would be coming and she was not entirely fond of him impeding on what could have been girl time with Ieiri, but he persisted, assuring her that he would be delighted to tag along to see what all the fuss was about. Utahime was horrified, to say the least, but she knew that once Satoru had decided upon involving himself in something, there was no way of turning him elsewhere.

So the three professors trekked on that Friday evening, pushing through busy crowds of people until they approached what Satoru could only describe as a hole in the wall smack in the middle of a row of shops and restaurants. It was a small brick building with a hazy led sign spelling out what he assumed to be the name of the establishment with narrow black doors and the scent of liquor tingling the air as people walked in and out. It was clearly a busy and popular place, well worn by the years and buzzing with visitors. He could hear the overlapping chatter of hundreds through the walls from the outside, loud laughter, the scraping of seats against hardwood floors, and the clinking of beer bottles and flasks.

This wasn’t exactly the type of place he had expected Utahime to take interest in, leading him to only grow more curious about who exactly they were about to see inside this enticing little building.

“This is it?” Shoko asked coolly, twisting her cigarette over to the other side of her mouth as her brown eyes examined the outside.

Utahime hummed, double checking her phone screen displaying a text bubble with an address that she had been following. “Yeah, I guess it is,” she nodded, looking back up.

“Huh,” Satoru said, scratching the back of his head as he examined the spot along with the two women beside him. “Didn’t peg you for the grungy type, Utahime,” he teased. The said woman gritted her teeth, tossing a glare over her shoulder through the side of her eye.

“What the hell do you know about my interests?” she hissed.

Satoru smiled, shrugging. He took the first steps toward the door, grinning smugly at Utahime as he brushed past her. “Enough to know that you’ve always been too much of a goody-two-shoes to come somewhere like here all by yourself.”

Utahime growled, clenching her phone tighter within her grasp as Satoru pushed the door open, the noisiness of the inside immediately blaring out into the atmosphere.

“After you,” he smirked, her eyes twitching.

Shoko patted the woman’s shoulder softly before making her way inside. “Don’t let this idiot sway you with his nonsense, Hime,” she advised with a light smile. “You don’t want him to win, do you?”

That question was enough to get Utahime to straighten herself up, following suit behind the brunette. “Like hell I do,” she grumbled. Satoru snickered, letting the door swing closed behind him once they all made it inside.

Satoru had been right about his earlier observation. It was absolutely packed inside, the space much larger than it looked from standing before the exterior. A series of occupied tables took up the majority of the space, where customers sat and talked vividly, surfaces cluttered by bottles of finished and unfinished alcohol. On the left side of the room, the bar resided with crowds swarming the countertops.

The atmosphere was so dark. If Satoru hadn’t been gifted with his six eyes, he likely would have had to squint to find his way through the dimness. The space was illuminated in a lazy, red glow, specs of golden spouting from the bar for the sake of the bartenders and low hanging lamps swinging over the tables.

At the very front of the room was a small stage, concealed by a thick velvet curtain. A few men dressed in black stood at the floor chattering amongst themselves and gesturing above, likely in charge of managing the performers or the stage functions.

“Well, look at you, Utahime,” Shoko patted the woman on the back enthusiastically, the trio standing at the entrance. “You got some spunk in you.”

“It’s not me, it's (Y/n),” the hazelnut eyed woman rolled her eyes. “She’s the one performing at these places.”

“Then you must have some sick friends we don’t know about.”

“And to think, I had no idea you had any friends outside of your colleagues,” Satoru chimed in, inspiring a vein to bulge in Utahime’s forehead. “So, where is this ‘friend’ of yours? I’m starting to think she isn’t even real.”

“Shut up, Gojo! She’s real!” the sorcerer barked. “She told me her performance slot was at ten. That’s in five minutes.”

“We’d better grab a seat then, huh?”

“She said she had the manager save us one up front. I guess we should go check it out.”

“You guys go ahead,” Ieiri waved her hand. “I’m gonna grab a drink. You want?”

“Nah. You know how I get, so no alcohol for Satoru. But here,” Satoru stopped her with his hand on her shoulder. He dug into the pocket of his pants and handed her his wallet. “Go crazy. The black one’s unlimited.”

Shoko quirked a mischievous brow, snatching the leather wallet between her index and middle finger. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Satoru,” she said. “Utahime? Anything?”

“Just surprise me. I’ll need something to get through being out with this idiot.”

Satoru grinned playfully and Shoko nodded before walking off.

Utahime clicked her tongue, dissatisfied with the fact that she was left alone with the man next to her. Satoru immediately detected her displeasure and smiled, leaning over her shoulder and gesturing his arm forward. “Lead the way.”

“Get away from me.”

Upon spotting a vacant table to the far left in front of the stage, Utahime took the lead as she shuffled awkwardly through the cramped pathways to make her way to the seat. Once the two made it, she spoke shortly with the man standing guard nearby to tell him that she was the expected visitor in which this seat had been reserved for. The man backed off accordingly, recognizing her face from the description he must have been given beforehand.

The two sorcerers sat down across from each other, Satoru leaning back in his wooden seat with a contented exhalation. “This is a nice change of pace,” he said.

“If you’re mocking me, quit it. (Y/n) is very talented and I wouldn’t come here if I didn’t think it would be worth it.”

“About that. I’ve been meaning to ask. Why are we hearing about this (Y/n) person now, all of a sudden? You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“Because she’s a human being with her own line of work separate from sorcery. There’s no need to bring her up when we’re on duty. We all have personal lives,” Utahime spoke flatly, fiddling with her purse with her gaze down and brows angled with irritation.

“But she’s human and she knows about you somehow?” Satoru tilted his head.

“She has an idea of the weird things that go on around this country, if that’s what you mean,” Iori sighed. “Even so, none of it concerns her. She’s got nothing to do with any of this stuff.”

“Where do you know her from?”

“God, you’re so nosy,” Utahime scrunched her nose. She hung her bag by its strap over the back of her chair and leaned back. “We’re old friends, that’s all.”

“‘Old friends?’ Why so vague, Utahime?” the blue eyed man pried, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m just curious to know about who we’ll be watching, that’s all.”

“Your motives are never that simple. You can shut up and watch without knowing her entire life’s story.”

“Okay. Touchy.”

Utahime grinded her teeth together. “So help me, Gojo, if you don’t behave tonight I’m ripping your hair out in your sleep, strand by strand.”

Satoru gasped dramatically, hands flying to his snowing locks fuzzy with misty dust of red casted down upon him by the ambience. “What?! No! Not my beautiful hair,” he pouted. “You’re so mean to me…”

“I’d hope so.”

Satoru threw his arm over the back of his seat. The lights suddenly flared lethargically, blinking between darkness and red to signify the commencement of a performance. Satoru noticed the way Utahime shifted in her seat immediately, turning her attention upward with a gentle smile reaching her features. Satoru followed her gaze and looked up, supposing that he’d see for himself what all the fuss was about.

The lights finally melted into darkness, blocking out the sea of tables in inky blackness with the only light provided now by the stage. Footsteps came into Satoru’s earshot, and he turned to find Shoko squeezing her way over to them, two drinks and his wallet somehow cradled in her arms. She plopped into the empty seat between Utahime and Satoru with a huff, leaning her body over to set the drinks down carefully. The brunette slid Satoru’s wallet over to him across the table.

“I’ll come back for that later,” she whispered, and Gojo snorted, tucking it away.

A short man with a scruffy beard climbed his way onto the stage from the steps on the far right, a microphone in hand. He stood before the curtain at the edge of the platform, waiting for the chatter to completely die down before he spoke.

“Good evenin’, everyone. Hope we’re all havin’ a good night.”

A few straggling hollers of excitement and a symphony of claps resounded throughout the space in response. Satoru took the opportunity to clap loudly along with everyone else, Utahime shielding her face with her hand in embarrassment.

“Alright, that’s what I like to hear,” the man nodded, grin widening. “Now, I ain’t gonna stand here long. I know what you’re all here for. So just remember to keep your damn ringers off during the performance. That shit gets distracting for our singer. And if you’re already wasted, which I can already tell most of you are-” a few laughs jump out from the crowd. “-don’t go tryin’ to climb onto stage to join her either. I know how some of you can get. Yeah, I’m lookin’ at you in the back.”

Satoru found the statement strange, to say the least. Utahime’s friend must have been incredibly popular within this establishment to spark the kind of attention that inspired men to try to get onto stage with her. Then again, looking around at the crowd, he couldn’t say that he expected much decorum from them.

“Alright, I’m done talkin’. Here she comes folks. You know her, you love her, she makes you wanna risk leavin’ the wife, our very own (Y/n) (L/n)!”

The crowd roared, the very mention of your name enough to bring a few intoxicated stragglers to their feet, cupping their hands around their mouths to whistle and shout for your entrance.

Satoru watched carefully as the announcer left the stage, admittedly intrigued. The overhead stage lights softened, isolating a single spotlight that glared against the ridges in the curtain. The surrounding atmosphere up there mellowed into sultry hues of purple and blue, complementing the recurring overarching red that sank over the space.

The curtains pulled back with a squeak, and there you were.

The white haired man’s brows lifted slowly, subconsciously, when the sight of you revealed itself like a gift on display after a tauntingly slow drag of a satin ribbon between pinched fingers.

You stood beneath the light, fingers clutching the handle of the microphone stand. Your shoulders curved with passion, body hunched into the circular ring around the speaker as though you were drawn to it like it was a piece of you. Your eyes were closed, dark lashes coated with tiny specs of gold from your eyeshadow dusting your smooth cheeks. Your lips, glossed sinfully red, grazed your mic as you took in deep breaths that expanded your bare chest, sweat or glitter glimmering over the shiny (s/c) skin of your collarbone and shoulders, twinkling beneath the overhead beam.

Adorned over your figure was a tight satin dress that accentuated every detail of your body, gliding over the curves of your hips and hugging your waist generously, cutting off over your thighs. Incredibly sheer tights ran over your smooth legs and down to your feet, snug in a pair of shiny heels you wore all too comfortably.

“Holy shit,” Satoru heard Shoko whisper. “That’s (Y/n)?”

Utahime hummed in affirmation. “Yes, it is.”

“She’s fucking hot.”

Satoru couldn’t have agreed more. You were more than hot, you were unnaturally, criminally gorgeous. You stood on that stage, soaking in the all the praise that this dive had to offer as if you had done so a million times over, your air of confidence capturing you in a sultry glow complemented by the way those red lights submerged into your aura like smooth molasses milking into cake batter.

Delicately, you opened your eyes, revealing the maroon glint of your (e/c) irises as they danced over the room warmly. Your lips pressed together into a smooth, seductive smile, reading the room and your audience and what they wanted from you, and you catered simply with the look in your eye and the smallest tilt of your enticing, blood red lips.

Satoru couldn’t look away. You had grabbed his attention, fully, easily.

The warbled blare of a saxophone brought Satoru’s attention to the small band of instruments he had failed to register behind you when the curtains first pulled away. A large man worked his fingers over the instrument beside a sleek black piano that eventually trickled with a flirtatious flutter into the saxophone’s accompaniment. The commotion within the crowd died down as the music rose gradually, tenderly.

You swayed slowly to the lazy melody, tapping your fingers against the mic handle. Your heel tapped against the floor and your hips, fuck your hips, swung gently with the will of the music. All the amusement Satoru once harbored had completely drained from his body. He felt suddenly earnest, consumed by the sight of you complemented by the symphony that followed, and he watched eagerly in anticipation for your lips to part, for sound to fly from your mouth. He awaited your voice with a sense of severity, face blank, eyes slightly wide.

As though he had summoned it, a rich note dragged through the air, deep, earthy, vibrating with soul and captivating ardor. The tune ripped through his ears, floating into the atmosphere like a dove gliding its wings through the air, touching the surface of water and rippling waves. It took several moments before Satoru realized that this blissful sound was coming from you. Your lips puckered ever so gently, brows angling as the space between your lips released the most hypnotizing vibrato he had ever heard in his life.

Chills crawled down his spine from the back of his neck as your voice nearly blended into the glide of the saxophone, slippery yet controlled and achingly sensual. You sang so effortlessly, tone mature and impassioned by your engrossed facial contortions and the subtle movements of your body. Whoops jumped into the air, followed by more claps from stunned listeners, and Satoru couldn’t decide whether he wanted to join them in rejoicing over you or turn around to tell them all to shut the fuck up so he could hear you more clearly.

He was lucky to be so close, watching you within near proximity as your lids lowered over your eyes then lifted with each note and lyric you sang, head turning and face scrunching accordingly. You were so physically reactive to your own voice, to the words that left you, to the people watching and the space you resided. You filled the room with your presence, capturing the building with your intoxicating charm. Your voice was as sexy as you were, and you sang and moved slowly enough for Satoru to take note of every detail.

The sorcerer sat there hypnotized, dizzy from you. He couldn’t even be bothered with turning to look at Shoko or Utahime to see what they were thinking, but due to their rather stiff silence, he assumed that they were in the exact same boat as him and everyone else within the room.

After a minute or so of sluggish bliss, the pianist shifted the tone of the music and played something bright and mischievous. The saxophone quickly adapted, slurring into the uplifted beat. The crowd reacted swiftly and your crimson lips spread to reveal your shiny white teeth, a grin devilish enough to feel as though Satoru wasn’t supposed to be looking.

Your jaw dropped to ease out a loud, booming note that sparked the bar into an uproar, your leg lifting and curving over the mic stand. You leaned forward, pressed the bar into your figure as you allowed that inhumane note to drift yourself forward with a tilted chin as you gaze over the crowd over your nose with those feline, hazy eyes.

Satoru’s eyes gawked over the shimmer of your thin stalkings when you raised your thigh up, the hem of your dress teasing the lace cutoff that cupped over the upper flesh.

Then, you stood back upward, yanking the mic from the stand to strut downstage, wiring dragging in your wake. You crouched down, voice fluttering handsomely through the speakers with your simultaneous and sudden engagement with those below center. You sang as though you were speaking to individual audience members, knees bent and arm dangled over them, head craning as your eyes isolated everyone, face by face.

A shout of your name jumped out as you looked around, and you loved it, responding with a playful wink as you maneuvered yourself into a seated position. Your legs dangled over the ledge, ankle crossing over the other and weight leaning on one hand.

“She’s so good, isn’t she?” Satoru heard Utahime whisper excitedly into Shoko’s direction.

Good was an understatement. You were flawless. A gem. A fucking masterpiece hidden within the confined walls of this establishment.

You were so smooth, shifting about languidly like your body was melting into all the right positions. You were like a drug to survey, seeping through Satoru’s veins and numbing his senses, leaving you to be the only thing within this space that he was perceptually aware of.

He watched you turn to look all around, finally drifting your face into the direction of his table. Your eyes found Utahime first, a glimpse of amiable excitement flickering through your gaze with a twitch in your smile. The said woman waved enthusiastically with a beam. Your smile brightened as you continued singing, (e/c) eyes dancing over Shoko and then finally onto Satoru.

The white haired man stilled under the spotlight of your gaze, your piercing eyes far more intense now that they had connected with him. His skin tingled, sapphire eyes holding your own as something within you sparked, eyes jumping ever so subtly as you took in his frame.

Satoru wasn’t normally easily swayed into speechlessness, let alone nervousness, but damn. Your eyes were practically devouring him whole as they shamelessly roamed over his body, hungrily, as if you were going to pounce on him.

Satoru grew hyper aware of his physical reaction to you in that moment. His heart was pumping steadily yet loudly within his ears and his throat had run dry, Adam’s apple bobbing whilst he tried to appear unfazed by you to no avail. A battle of dominance transpired between your shared eye contact, and he couldn’t deny the fact that you were winning. Your voice floating on in compliance with your gaze wrapped him into a chokehold, burned his peach skin, and for the first time in his life he felt rivaled by a human woman’s natural power outside of his ordinary world of sorcery and chaos.

Your hand supporting your body weight slid out, your figure leaning along with it and your eyes failing to leave Satoru’s even for a second. Your hand carried you until you were laying on your side, hand propping up your cheek and left leg crossed over the other. The blue eyed man’s eyes widened as he took in the manner in which you presented yourself before him, for him. The mic pressed into your soft lips, your gloss grazing the speaker, corners of your mouth curving with sensual delight.

You looked so edible like this, mesmerizing him with your voice like a siren out of sea. Your beautiful legs, your jutted hip, those gorgeous lashes, and lord help him, those juicy red lips that had him seeing stars. Red, Satoru observed, was your color as its shade cradled you and illuminated the frame of your body. He drank in your artistry in awe, the room growing warmer around him with each bat of your lashes and gliding of your fingers down your dress.

Cheers surrounded, but all Satoru could focus on was your face and the sudden ache arousing from his crotch. He glanced down momentarily and caught sight of the growing bulge stretching his nice pants and exhaled heavily. He rested his elbow on the table and slid his hand over his mouth, peering back up at you with blown pupils.

It was going to be a long night.

Your grin twinged with an air of satisfaction when you noticed Satoru’s response to your rather blatant flirting, and you pushed yourself back up. You tilted your head over into the opposite direction slowly, eyes trained on his until the very last second, and then they broke away.

Satoru’s daze shattered when a balled up napkin bounced off of his infinity shield. He turned rigidly to find Utahime glaring at him angrily, lips curled into a disapproving frown. “Don’t even think about it,” she seethed.

Gojo examined her for a moment before a devious smirk crept its way back on his lips. He shifted, crossing his legs to attempt to hide the current problem poking into his pants, and grinned. “No promises,” he mouthed and Utahime groaned, ripping her eyes away from him as if the sight of his face disgusted her.

Your performance ended far too soon for Satoru’s liking. When he looked back up, the accompaniment was dwindling down into the slow pace that it had begun with. You were back on your feet, turning your back to the audience to saunter over to the mic stand. You carefully slid the handle back into its holder, voice soothing into a low, conclusive note that fluttered regally off into a momentary stunned silence.

You stilled, inhaling sharply as the song reached its end. You blinked your eyes, as though reawakening from a daze, and looked up contentedly. Your hands fell to your sides and you awaited applause that came as rapidly as you had aroused the entire room.

Gojo made sure that he was the first to jump to his feet, clapping wildly with a ridiculous grin. Everyone else followed, showering you in praise, compliments, a standing ovation well deserved. Shoko ‘whooped’ next to him, joining in on Satoru’s boisterousness while Utahime clapped a bit more politely with a proud smile.

You gave a little bow, your smile radiant enough to put the sun to shame. You looked over everyone in grateful acknowledgement before turning your attention back to your friend’s table. You took the opportunity to return Utahime’s wave merrily, bringing your fingers to your lips and blowing a kiss to the brown eyed woman.

Satoru and Shoko’s cheers picked up in volume, and your eyes brought themselves back to them. Your shoulders jerked with a soft chuckle, giving the two of them an introductory wave. Satoru brightened when you looked at him again, gazes exchanging an internal, mutual address of one another’s tension.

You drew your top lip down, suppressing a bigger smile as you stared at him. Your gaze traveled downward for half a second and your eyes went big. You were quick to brush a hand over your amused expression and lower your gaze the moment the curtains drew over you and shut, concealing your beauty once more.

Satoru jutted out his bottom lip in momentary befuddlement, looking down to be reminded by his… problem. He was lucky that he was wearing pants that were tighter around his lower waist and crotch area, keeping the print of his dick somewhat compressed, but you had still managed to notice from your view upstage.

Well, more accurately, you had been looking.

Satoru grew ecstatic at the notion.

“You!” Utahime pointed an accusatory finger at the blue eyed man once the applause had died down and chatter arose once more. People began to leave after your show had ended, having only come to watch you sing, and hell, Satoru couldn’t blame them.

Satoru lowered his hands and pointed an innocent finger to his chest. “Me?”

“If you sleep with (Y/n), so help me-”

“Woah, hold on now,” Satoru stopped her. “What makes you think I’m the kind of guy to go around sleeping with strangers?”

“Oh don’t play coy, I saw the way you two were looking at each other earlier,” she rolled her eyes. “I hardly care what you do in your free time- frankly it makes me gag to think about it- but please just leave (Y/n) out of it.”

“Oh come on, it’s not my fault she was looking at me. What’s a guy to do in that situation?” Satoru shrugged. “I’m sorry I can't help my incredibly good looks.”

“I mean it, Gojo.”

“Utahime, let’s be real. She’s your friend. I wouldn’t do anything to mess with her. I’m not the horrible guy you take me for.”

“I don’t think you’re horrible, I think you’re an idiot whose arrogance is going to get you in a world of trouble one day. And I’m not even talking about how you’d affect her, I’m talking about her.”

“Hm? How do you mean?”

“She will eat you alive.”

“Eat me alive?” he repeated curiously. The prospect had only further piqued his interest. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Don’t believe me?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you… I’m just thinking maybe I should see for myself.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Shoko laughed. “Think of it this way, Utahime. If Satoru sleeps with your friend, he’ll be admitting that you chose a great place for us to hang out tonight. After he doubted you, and all.”

Utahime paused, a noble grin reaching her features with the touch of her finger to her chin. “That’s right! He’d have to admit that he was wrong about me. Looks like you’re not the only one who knows how to plan a fun night out, huh?”

Satoru watched the woman gloat in her newfound honor with a blank face. “Jeez, Utahime. I didn’t think you were so obsessed with trivial things like proving me wrong. I was just playing around earlier,” he badgered, successfully rousing her agitation and disrupting her temporary air of victory.

“I can’t stand you!”

“So,” Shoko sighed, turning to observe the flow of people exiting the space as the lights rose once more overhead. “Are we gonna get to meet this girl, or what? She put on a hell of a show.”

“Oh… yeah, hold on,” Utahime pulled out her phone. “She told me before to just wait for her to text saying that we can head backstage. I think she’s in the dressing room.”

Satoru buzzed with the anticipation of seeing you up close. Something about the way you stood up there, the way you presented yourself, the way you looked at him made every fiber in his being tremble with excitement as though you were a celebrity he had only dreamed about gaining the privilege to encounter in person until this very moment.

He looked over his shoulder at all the drunken men who had been hollering your name and brimmed with vanity. Those poor idiots could only ever ponder about speaking with you one on one and seeing you up close, when he was able to saunter his way back to you with absolutely no obstacles in his way. It was foolish of him to sneer down at these non-sorcerers, who had been established as far beneath him the moment he was born, but he couldn’t help the pride that swarmed his chest when he thought about the advantage that he already had with you in comparison.

“Ah, there it is,” Utahime smiled upon seeing your name pop up on her screen. “Alright let’s go. Gojo, keep it together.”

“When have I ever done anything but that,” he grinned.

The three found themselves being led up the stage and behind the curtain by the same guy who had presented your performance. They walked through the narrow right wing and toward a door at the end of the room. The man knocked loudly upon it, announcing to you through the barrier that you had visitors before walking off. Another shiver wracked Satoru’s body when your honey-like voice called out that the door was open.

Utahime turned the knob slowly, peering into the room hesitantly. “(Y/n)?”

The door opened widely, revealing you sitting at a foggy mirror and a beaten leather chair. The surrounding clutter of storage and clothing was enough to show that you had been in this space often despite its rugged, vintage look.

The light of your vanity illuminated the brick space. You looked up when the door fully opened, and that jaw dropping smile graced your red lips again.

“Utahime,” you greeted happily. Iori beamed, rushing into the room to wrap you up in a hug the moment you stood. You let out a surprised huff, easing into her arms and chuckling. “I’m so glad you made it,” you said, rubbing her back.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world! The second I knew you were performing here, I came running,” Utahime replied, pulling away to look at you. “You were so amazing out there.”

“Aw, you think so?” you raised your brows, serene grin broadening.

“Absolutely! You made everyone go crazy.”

“I try my best,” you shrugged, eyes darting over to the brunette and the white haired man standing at the doorway. You raised a brow. “I see you brought some friends with you.”

“Ah,” Utahime recalled, releasing you from her grip. “Yes, these are my colleagues. This is Ieiri Shoko and… Gojo Satoru,” she grumbled the latter bitterly, slimming her eyes at his cocky gaze.

You hummed. “Oh yeah?” those eyes of yours flickered over Satoru rather noticeably. “Well, nice to meet you both. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

“Enjoyed it?” Shoko echoed, crossing her arms with a tipsy grin. “We loved it. You’ve got a crazy set of pipes on you. And that dress? Fucking incredible.”

You accepted the compliment genuinely. “Thank you, you’re sweet.”

“How long have you been performing?”

You followed the owner of that voice and found yourself staring into captivating blue hues once more. A small smile rested on his lips and his hands were tucked into his pockets as he looked at you.

You sharpened your gaze and lowered your lids. “Do you mean here or in general?”

He shrugged, glossy lips puckering as if in thought. “Both.”

A glint flickered through your eyes when you responded, leg crossing over the other. “Been performing for ten years, here for one.”

Satoru lifted his chin and parted his lips, humming in understanding. “So you’re a real professional then.”

“I don’t know, what do you think I am?” you asked him.

Gojo immediately picked up on the light banter that you were encouraging, therefore he, so taken by the sight of you, could do nothing but play along. Especially when you proceeded to check him out with absolutely no remorse.

“I think you’re good enough to be with the stars somewhere. On a big stage with a big crowd. Bigger than any of us could imagine.”

Flattery, though common, still seemed to have a rather carnal effect on you. You tilted your head over your shoulder, eyes glistening with intrigue. “Who says I haven’t been?”

You clearly liked to challenge, to push your limits and see if your words and responses were strong enough to make the man before you falter or stumble over his words. If Satoru Gojo were anyone else in this world, he internally conceded that he would have, but he liked this daring persona you harbored. He liked the way that you were aware of the fact that you could bring a man to his knees with a look alone, the way you could shift your words to chip away at someone’s resolve and make them a mess at your feet.

He thought it was so hot.

If Utahime had been right about you earlier, that you would eat him alive if he had been presented the chance to make a proper move on you, he would have let you consume him blissfully.

He wanted you to consume him.

“You’re right,” Satoru chuckled lowly. “If you have, you’d be right where you should be. In the limelight.”

Your smile spread as your locked gaze soaked him in, and Satoru knew that he was set.

“Alright,” Utahime’s voice cut through the thick air. Her expression was bored, having very clearly witnessed what was slowly unveiling before her. While she didn’t approve of it in the slightest, she was hardly the least bit surprised.

Shoko had kept quiet as well, looking between you and Satoru with knowing widened eyes and a tight laugh-suppressing smile.

“(Y/n)? When’s your next show?” Iori asked you, clenching her jaw when her eyes cut through Satoru threateningly. The said man hardly cared, for you were initiating far more of the tension rising between the two of you than he was. After all, Satoru hadn’t been bluffing before when he had questioned the accusation thrown about regarding his sex life. He was a busy man with very little to no free time aside from the few hour block he took out of his Friday evenings to spend time with his fellow sorcerers.

Of course, women were drawn to him, but he found very little interest in entertaining their efforts. In his mind, the act would have been like poking fun at forgotten admirers for the sake of entertainment. It was beneath him, sleeping around, and he hardly trusted anyone enough with his powerful mind and body to be vulnerable with them. Consequently, he kept to himself, flirting around every now and then but never crossing the line between pretty words and physical intimacy.

So to be dragged into your will with little effort had stunned him, more so because he was not opposed to your unspoken invitation in comparison to how he would have normally reacted to someone’s advances. You looked like you were trouble, conniving, gaining control of a room with the tricks of your beauty and your talent. You knew full well that you were an unfathomable treasure, a sex symbol amongst the little world that you had built for yourself, and that alone was dangerous. Satoru knew so because he himself was just as dangerous for the same reasons and far more.

You weren’t even intimidated by his presence, like most human women were. He was abnormally tall with prominent features that stood out like a sore thumb; snowy white locks that glowed blindingly in the sunlight and eyes as vast and blue as the sky above. Normally, people shivered under his gaze, cowered in his wake, but you demanded his submission as though he was just another man, and hell, he couldn’t even be offended because he wanted you just like any other man.

“Usually I perform every Friday,” you started, pulling your eyes from Gojo to look back at Utahime. “But next week they’ve got another guest performing in my place ‘cause I want off. Sometimes I do stuff at the bar in one city over too, but during the weekends. You’re welcome to come check it out whenever. All of you.”

“We’ll definitely have to stop by more often. I can’t believe I’ve been missing you all this time.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it. I can only imagine how swamped you are with work and everything, being a professor and all. Just come when you can, no hard feelings.”

“Do you have a social media handle?” Ieiri asked. You nodded, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s my full name pushed together. You follow me, and I’ll follow you. I love making new friends.”

The brunette immediately exchanged information with you, and just like that, the night was over.

Utahime was the first to bid farewell, claiming that she had to get up early the following morning for some business to attend to that Satoru and Shoko knew as a quick mission orchestrated by Tokyo Jujutsu High. She gave you another tight hug and Shoko followed, telling you that it was great meeting before turning to the door with Utahime. Satoru was the last to leave the room, turning over his shoulder to casually part with you.

You watched him closely, leaning your hip against your vanity with your hand on upon the other. Your red lips pressed together in a stiff smile, desiring eyes watching as you said goodbye, though you knew deep in your gut that this wouldn’t be your last time seeing Satoru Gojo.

On the way out, Satoru stopped in his tracks on the stage steps, standing over the now completely vacant building. Utahime and Shoko walked with their arms linked to the exit, Shoko stopping first when she realized that Satoru was not directly behind them. The women turned, catching sight of him looking around the room calmly.

“Satoru!” Shoko called out. “You coming or what?”

He smiled, lowering his head to look at the brunette from across the room. “Nah,” he sighed contentedly. “I think I’ll take in the ambience a bit more and… ponder over the performance we just watched. Why end the night so early, you know?”

Utahime’s expression fell flat. “It’s a quarter past midnight,” she deadpanned.

“And yet, there’s still so much the night has to offer.”

Shoko snorted, turning back around and waving her hand over her head. “Whatever you say. Text me after you get laid.”

“Like I said, Shoko, you know I’m not that kind of guy!”

Utahime huffed, shaking her head in disdain. “You’re playing with fire, Gojo. We all know you’re the strongest, but you shouldn’t underestimate that woman’s control. She will break you.”

Satoru scoffed, waving the indigo haired woman off. “Please. I’m unbreakable.”

Utahime rolled her eyes and turned her back to the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. “It’s your funeral.”

His funeral, huh?

Satoru never knew himself to be the masochistic type, but somehow, the thought of you metaphorically killing him only made him harder.

You emerged from behind the velvet curtain about ten minutes after Shoko and Utahime left. You were rifling through your purse for the keys to lock up, which the owner usually entrusted you to do when you performed because you were close personal friends.

Your heels clicked and echoed throughout the vacant space, no signs of life aside from the sound of your footsteps. Even so, you knew you weren’t alone before you had even rounded that corner to exit backstage. You could sense the overwhelming presence of that friend of Iori’s who had been ogling over, and you hadn’t been surprised. When you looked up from your bag and saw his tall figure sitting patiently at the same table he had occupied earlier that night, chin propped in his fist and eyes glowing through the dim space to find yours, you lowered your arms knowingly.

“Hate to break it to you, but the show’s over, pretty boy,” you said smugly. “You’ll be waiting in the dark forever until my next one.”

“That’s okay. I was actually waiting for you,” Satoru replied suavely.

“Is that so?” you stepped down the stairs slowly to make your way over to him. “I don’t give autographs, if that’s what you’re looking for. I haven’t made it that big yet.”

“Whattt? No way. I thought you said you’ve been with all kinds of stars before.”

You walked up to the table, slinging your purse off of your arm and tossing it carelessly on the surface. “Don’t get me wrong. One day I will be,” you sighed. “Just not yet.”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me,” Satoru grinned, watching in the dim light as you slid into the seat across from him. “I’ve never seen anyone perform the way you did.”

“You must not get out much,” you teased. “I’m really not all that special in places like these.”

“Okay, we both know that’s bullshit,” Satoru cocked a brow, giving you a look as your grin widened. “You’re unreal on that stage. I’ve been around enough to know that.”

“Clearly,” you chuckled. “I appreciate the flattery, Gojo.”

Your laugh was heavenly, and holy shit, you remembered his name.

“Satoru,” he corrected you, quickly ridding the both of you of any formalities that could have gotten in the way. Your lips parted slightly with fascination, and you caught the way Satoru’s eyes jumped to the motion.

“Right. Satoru,” you tested his first name on your lips, and Satoru thought that he would have combusted right then and there.

If that hadn’t been enough to blow a fuse in his brain, sitting so close to you and taking in your features within your proximity was a gift within itself. You were even prettier up close, the details he couldn’t quite admire from when you were on stage fully displaying themselves before him exquisitely.

Your eyes were so heavy, lined with a coat of black liner that deepened, accentuated the rich hue of your alluring eyes and your skin so smooth beneath the expertly applied coat of makeup you wore for your performance. You still had on that dress too, only it was concealed by a leather coat that reached your thighs, hiding what Satoru so desperately wanted to see now that he was mere feet away from you.

“So, a colleague of Utahime’s, huh?” you prodded, seeking further information from him. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a teacher.”

Satoru laughed lightly at the sentiment, momentarily forgetting that you had no clue about what his profession could have possibly entailed. “I get that a lot,” he elected to say.

“And at a religious school no less?”

You were testing the water.

“It’s just work,” Satoru shrugged. “I never thought about it as religious or non-religious, which I know is probably weird to say since I am a professor there.”

“No, I get what you mean,” you said. “Work is just work,” you repeated his words, and Satoru smiled.

“Exactly.”

“Then you come to these kinds of bars for, what, a break from all the sanctity?” you mused.

“Not really. I’m actually not much of a drinker. I only came here for the entertainment. Per Utahime’s suggestion, of course.”

“Right,” you smiled. “Speaking of, Utahime doesn’t seem to like you very much. I only got that from the way she introduced you like she wanted your head on a silver platter,” you observed smugly, Satoru releasing an amused breath.

“She acts like she hates me, but I’ve known her for years. She’s just always been easy to mess with and she lets me pick on her.”

You laughed, clearly understanding what he meant. “So you’re that kind of guy, huh? Picking on poor Utahime. No wonder she hates you.”

“Well, when you put it like that, you make me sound like some kinda monster,” Satoru sulked slightly, much to your amusement.

“I wouldn’t mind it if you were. I could take it.”

Satoru’s cock twitched, your words alone enough to further stimulate his lust for you.

You could take it.

The phrase had so many different possible connotations, and you knew it. Your eyes said it all as they melted over his face, surveying his facial reaction to the way you lifted a nail between your teeth to bite down on it mid sentence.

It drove him crazy.

“You don’t seem like the type though,” you countered your previous statement. Satoru leaned forward slightly, inquisitive.

“No?”

“Nah, you seem too nice.”

The blue eyed man snorted. “You think I’m nice?”

“Or maybe that’s not the right word,” your painted finger tapped against your bottom lip, the flesh so plush beneath your touch.

He wanted to feel that softness against him. He wanted your lipstick to stain his body. To stain his life. He wanted you so bad.

“I mean, I guess I do consider myself to be generous,” Satoru played along, a laugh bubbling in his throat.

“Mmmm,” you pressed your lips together, slimming your eyes and setting your elbows onto the table. You leaned into him, eying him closely, studying his cunning smile and pressing your chest into the table. “I take it back.”

“Damn, you don’t think I’m nice anymore?”

“You’re more… extroverted,” you decided. “You know how to talk to people, and it comes off as generosity. Sometimes. But in reality, it’s just you being lighthearted.”

“So lightheartedness and generosity aren’t the same thing?”

“Hell no,” you smirked. “You could be a dickhead and still be spirited.”

He chuckled again. You were so forward. “You’ve got a point.”

“You’re also a little flirty, you know that?” you specified. “I think that’s a part of your ‘lightheartedness.’”

“Oh really?” the strongest sorcerer shifted to open his fist and lean his cheek over in his palm, peering down at you through his lashes. “Pretty, if I’m flirty, then you must be in love with me.”

You were momentarily stunned by the comment, your pleasure with the conversation only growing as Satoru grew more brazen. “Wow. That’s a new one,” you grinned, pretty teeth on display again, and Gojo found himself mirroring the sun before him.

“I’m just saying, I’m not the only one who’s been flirting. You can’t tell me otherwise.”

“I never said I wasn’t,” you admitted freely, your tongue swiping over your bottom lip. Satoru sucked in a heavy breath as his pants only grew tighter. “Hate to break it to you, though, I don’t do love if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not. Somehow I didn’t peg you as the type.”

“What did you peg me for?”

Satoru took a few seconds to reply, staring at you. “As a woman who your friend told me would eat me alive.”

“What?” you released a real laugh this time. It was a loud, bright sound that boomed through the empty space and left Satoru’s cheeks aching and dimples popping from how hard he was smiling in reaction to it. He watched the way your head tilted back and your eyes scrunched closed, your expression displaying true thrill.

You were so beautiful, he couldn’t stand it.

“Why’s that so funny?” he asked in the midst of his idiotic simpering.

You swiped a finger under your eye as you calmed, shaking your head with lingering giggles. “Because Utahime would say something like that about me,” you exhaled.

“Can I ask if she was wrong?”

You interlocked your fingers, elbows on the table, and rested your chin atop them. “No, she’s not,” you said, softly. “But you know that anyway, don’t you? You look pretty smart.”

“Aw, thanks for noticing,” Satoru cooed. “You’re right. I knew that the second I saw you.”

You hummed, dragging your eyes over his face, then down to his hands. “Then why are you here, Satoru? To get eaten alive?”

There went Satoru dick for the third time that night, jumping excitedly within the confines of his pants. The predicament began to grow rather uncomfortable, and you were quick to notice when he shifted in his seat in an attempt to be subtle and his dark pupils expanded amidst the pools of sapphire beneath his messy hair.

Your perfectly plucked brow arched as you looked down when he shifted. “Problem?” you asked knowingly, sensually, and god, you were only making his situation worse. Your lips bounced apart with the end of your question, your mouth now slightly agape.

Satoru could feel his skin burn, your presence unbearably intoxicating.

A muscle in Gojo’s brow twitched as you lowered your palms flat to the table and pushed, your chair scooting loudly across the floor. Blue pools of desire followed your figure as you rose from your chair slowly, rounding the table with your fingers dragging along the surface. Satoru’s heart was hammering, entirely fixated on you as you approached and stood over him.

Suddenly, you kicked your foot out and knocked it against the front leg of his chair. Hooking the point of your heel over it, you dragged the furniture away from the table to face you. You broke your eyes from his to look down, the image of his throbbing hardon meeting your eyes kindly.

“Looks like it,” you answered for yourself.

Satoru instinctively released his technique when he saw you coming into him. You leaned over and pressed onto his shoulder, throwing your leg around him to straddle his lap. Satoru hissed, corner of his lips twirling up as his eyes flew to where your thighs crowded around his crotch, tights stretching perfectly over the way the fat of your thighs expanded when you sat.

You pouted, sliding your arms around his neck and tilting your head down to meet his lowered eyes. “What’s wrong? Got no more talk in you?”

The white haired man trembled under you, wordlessly taking you in. You smelled so good, your scent invading every one of his heightened senses as your gentle fingers dragged over the nape of his neck. You leaned in closer, brushing your wine red lips over his glossy ones as he exhaled shakily, warm breath fanning against your skin.

“Am I making you nervous, pretty boy?” you whispered into him, and he fucking shuddered. “I thought you wanted this…”

Your fingers tangled up and into his hair, pushing his locks from his forehead and tilting his head back. You looked over him, marveling at his beauty as his cheeks reddened and his hands cupped over your waist. His lashes fluttered with the brush of your fingers through his silky strands, eyes inky pools as he looked up at you desperately.

“Funny, your dick may be making all the moves for you,” you teased, words vulgar as they dripped from your tongue.

Satoru’s length jumped against your inner thigh, hardening beneath your weight. He clenched his jaw and drew his brows together, digging his fingers into your hips under your coat. You hummed, drawing your lips to his ear. “See? All of a sudden he’s more talkative than you are.”

“Fuck,” Gojo hissed, your voice in his ear snapping something deep within him. “Baby, you’re something else.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” your fingers curved down the side of his jaw and over his throat. “You gonna let me ruin you?”

Satoru smiled breathlessly, his grip around you tightening. “I should be asking you the same thing, pretty…” his heavy hands smoothed down over your ass, pushing you further up against him. You raised your brows, pulling away to look down at him daringly.

“That’s pretty cocky for a guy who lost his words for a second, there,” you licked your lips.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea how cocky I can be.”

You grabbed a fist full of his shirt, tugging harshly. “Then prove it.”

Your mouths were clashing into each other’s before Satoru could even process his next thought, which only would have been something about you. Your lips were so soft, plush as a cloud as they mashed into his own, your red gloss smearing over his lips and chin, painting him red, and Satoru knew then that he could die happy.

Satoru reached up blindly and pushed your jacket off your shoulders. You swiftly shimmied out of the fabric, letting it drop to the floor whilst your lips remained locked hungrily in a primal, hot, greedy battle. The white haired man immediately snatched the opportunity to feel over your body, memorizing the curves that followed his hands beneath the smooth fabric of your tight dress. His legs spread beneath you, feet pressing into the floor to hump up into your hips as your body curved into him like the trickle of water smoothing down a pipe.

He grunted into your mouth as you nipped and bit, curling your tongue into his mouth to fight for your authority. Satoru welcomed your dominance, floating into a twisted heaven as your hand curled over his throat and your tits pressed into his shirt through your dress, thighs rubbing over his sides and nails dragging down his chest to rip open the buttons of his shirt.

“That shirt was expensive,” he breathed heatedly into you between the swift seconds your lips broke apart. Wet smacking filled your ears as you pressed back in, pushing your body flush against his large frame and licking your tongue along his lip.

“I don’t care,” you purred. Satoru released a shaky moan, slamming his lips back into yours, eager to taste every bit of your lipstick and the slick of your tongue.

You jumped back to stretch the material of his shirt further apart, buttons popping with the revelation of his flushed, bare pecs and the hint of his well-sculpted upper abdomen. You dragged the shirt from his shoulders, Satoru yanking his arms free to grab your cheeks and press you harder into him. “Your lips feel so good,” he huffed mindlessly, a string of saliva pulling from the two of you as you parted.

“All I did was kiss you,” you breathed.

“So kiss me more,” he demanded. “Everywhere. Wherever. I don’t give a fuck.”

“So bossy,” you groaned, teeth grazing his jaw as you slid your hands down his exposed skin, feeling over the ridges of his abdominals. Satoru jerked, breath releasing with a vocalized sigh as your touch smoothed over his stomach. You popped open the last button of his shirt and ripped it out from under him, throwing it over your shoulder with a pretty smirk, lipstick smudged messily over your cheek. “I’ll kiss you when I want to kiss you, where I want to kiss you.”

“Don’t be like tha-mmm…”

Your hand slid over the bulge of his pants as you pressed yourself up above it to free the space for your access. Satoru clenched his jaw and watched intensely as your fingers traced over the outline of his hard on teasingly, teeth sinking into your lip as you monitored his reaction. “You feel big, Toru,” you observed sweetly. “Can I call you that? Toru? You like that, baby?”

“Fuck, yes,” he heaved, eyes blurry. “Call me whatever the fuck you want.”

“Atta boy,” you praised, pressing your lips to his cheek as his cock jerked beneath your hand. “Ohhh, look at that. Someone likes praise…”

“You’re- killing me, baby,” he looked up at you, jaw hanging as stuttered breaths escaped him. “Need you to take care of my cock, pretty, can’t handle the way you’re touching me.”

“You must be so used to getting what you want,” you sighed. You leaned to place your finger at the base of his balls, watching the way his body jumped. You slid your finger all the way up his concealed shaft slowly before ripping it away with a sweet smile. Satoru made a noise like a dissatisfied whine in his throat. “I already told you, I’ll do what I want when I want it.”

He tossed his head back, brows curling. “(Y/n),” he whimpered.

“Ooo, don’t say my name like that,” you pushed your hips back down to roll against his cock, a pretty moan fluttering from his muscular throat. “You’ll get me even wetter than I already am.”

Satoru’s hands clutched down onto your thighs, squeezing harshly with aching want.

“Relax,” you ordered, and he did, sinking back into the chair as your hands climbed over him and your lips touched the crook of his jaw. “Good boy.”

You slid your tongue along his skin, sinking your teeth into his neck like a damn vampire, smoothing your open mouth over the stinging bites, marking his skin redder than that makeup you wore. Satoru breathed heavily, twitching beneath you uncontrollably. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, and he was already a mess at your will. His moans strained in his throat as you sucked circles on his neck mercilessly, capturing any piece of his perfect skin you could find.

He needed you to free his cock so badly. It was causing him pain, at this point, how achingly hard he was. He could feel precum already staining his underwear and soaking through his slacks, but you kept him waiting, pressing you clothed mound to his bulge as his grasping hands pulled your dress over your legs and scrunched it around your waist.

Your lace cut offs and string panties unveiled themselves to him and he almost came then and there beneath you. You were so bad, dressing like this to perform as though you were asking to get fucked afterward. As though you knew Satoru had walked through those doors and would melt into putty the moment you laid your hand on his chest.

“Uh uh,” you whispered, feeling Satoru press his dick up into you again. He could feel the slipperiness between your thighs, soaking your thin underwear and threatening to pool through to touch his clothes. “Stop that,” you said firmly, glaring up at him from where you had begun nipping at his chest.

Your back was arched, your ass sticking out over his lap, and oh, you were just begging to be fucked, but Satoru couldn’t bring himself to do anything but what you told him. Not yet at least. He got off on the way you dominated him, the way you took control with no idea that if he wanted to he could have snapped you in half.

Only, if he wanted to.

“Pretty, I want you so bad,” Satoru said through gritted teeth, gazing longingly at you through the mess of his hair. He involuntarily bucked up into you again and you gasped, gripping his shoulder tightly with one hand and onto the hand that gripped your waist with the other.

There you were. He had finally gotten a reaction from you.

Your face darkened, your eyes hard. You looked back up at him with eyes that could kill, expression falling into intensified hunger. Satoru gulped.

You lifted your hips and grinded them forward, pressing them down and swiveling your lower body with rapid pressure. Gojo inhaled sharply, eying the way you slithered across his dick like a goddamn snake, movements glossy and abrupt. His fingers dug into the skin of your waist, curling into the waistband of your panties and stretching at them eagerly.

“You’re so fucking impatient,” you growled, rolling your hips over him again and moaning softly when his bulge rubbed against your clit. “Shit, how fucking big are you, Toru?”

“You would- hah- know if you took my f-fucking cock out, princess,” Satoru moaned, pulling at your hips to keep them in motion. You finally complied, rocking your sopping cunt against him slowly, the friction against your heat sparking waves of pleasure to your brain.

“Mmm, fuck,” you whispered. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Baby, come on,” Satoru begged, encouraging you to keep going. You began to get yourself off, using his hardon to stroke against you dripping pussy as humped his pants, pulling back and pushing in, back and in. “There you go, pretty, grind that pussy onto me. Make yourself feel good…”

“I said- ah- s-shut up!” You pushed him back by his shoulders harshly, holding him still against the back of the chair as you rode him out through your pants, brows furrowed and mouth hanging open. Your pace quickened, your clit throbbing with each grind it took against his length. “Why do you feel like this with fucking pants on?” you breathed out, confounded by howquickly he was making you feel this good.

“Take them-ngh, fuck- o-off, and it’ll feel better.”

You fumed, slapping a hand over Satoru’s mouth as you glided your throbbing pussy into him hard. A muffled groan escaped Satoru’s mouth, eyes threatening to roll back as a string of curses fled your lips.

You wanted him to shut up. No man had ever spoken to you this much, in such a manner that Gojo was encouraging you with that sweet, needy desperation lacing his deep voice. It was only dragging more arousal from your cunt, and you weren’t used to this. You weren’t used to responding to a man’s body and mouth this way.

You usually did all the talking. You were normally the one watching in amusement as a man shook like a leaf underneath you. You were usually the one experiencing less pleasure, but hell, you had only dry humped Satoru for five minutes and your pussy was already pathetically crying for him. And his mouth, god, he just wouldn’t be quiet, and his inability to do so was threatening to weaken you.

You truly did not want to comply with his desires, but you could no longer deny that the both of you longed for the same thing.

You kept your hand secure over Satoru’s mouth, his fucked out gaze drinking you in as you hurriedly unbuckled his belt, fumbling over the straps and leaning away from him momentarily to do so. Satoru’s hands moved to help you, but you pushed them away, pressing against his mouth harder.

“Don’t touch,” you ordered. His groan of frustration and want vibrated against your palm, his hands grabbing immediately into the plush of your exposed ass beneath you bunched dress.

You scooted further down Satoru’s legs so that you could tug his pants down once you got his belt out of the way. You hadn’t even bothered to stand to pull them all the way down, for you were in far too much of a rush to free his dick to care.

Your fingers found the hem of his boxers, ripping them down quickly. Your lips curved back into a smile, your frustration fading, when his gorgeous cock flew free and smacked angrily against Satoru’s abdomen. A smear of shiny precum spread over his skin in his tip’s wake, the pink head oozing generously. Your eyes grew, internally and temporarily stunned by Satoru’s size. He was long, unnaturally so, with bulging veins wrapped around his shaft and trailing upward. A soft tuft of white hair resided above his dick at the end of a teased happy trail.

Your (e/c) eyes admired his entire figure once more, his heaving breathing, sweaty brawny chest, the love bites you left behind, littering his collarbone and either side of his neck within circles of your lipsticks stains that trailed up to his nose behind your hand, his flushed skin, and sex dazed sapphire pools.

“You’re such a pretty boy, Toru,” you praised. A glimmer of light flickered through his pupils in reaction to your gentle words, a stark contrast to the way harshly you pushed into him.

Gradually, you wrapped your free digits around his base. Satoru moaned, broken voice rumbling into your hand. Your tongue touched the top row of your teeth as you reveled in the feeling of his dick in your hand. It twitched within your soft palm, fluttering toward you with a mind of it’s own.

“You wanna do me a favor, baby?” you asked, and Satoru nodded eagerly. “You wanna move my panties to the side so I can slide your pretty dick inside me?”

Satoru trembled, nodding again with fervor. You leaned down and kissed his cheek again.

“Go ahead,” you spurred him on.

The white haired sorcerer wasted no time in reaching under you to rip his fingers into the thin strap of your thong. He stretched the band out desperately before feeling his way further down, freezing when he touched a cool patch of slick dripping from the cloth hiding your pussy from him.

He pushed the fabric aside as you had advised him to and experimentally slid his fingers over your slit, collecting your sticky fluid as it seeped down his palm. His chest jumped with another muffled moan, eyes hardening when your dark lashes flickered and your thighs jerked over him. You were so wet for him, and you were trying not to show it on your face, but Satoru could tell that you were deprived of him, of real, attentive, passionate doting. He could tell that you needed him as much as he needed you.

Satoru allowed his mind to wander as he sank his index finger past your lips and into your warm, gooey walls. You mewled, hips bucking downward. “Satoru,” you warned, but your voice lacked your previous grit. The blue eyed man smirked behind your palm just seconds prior to your removal of it from his mouth. Your lids grew heavy over your eyes as he dragged his finger out and pushed it back in slowly, swirling around your gummy insides. “Ahhh, shit- f-fuck you!” you moaned, the sounds you released so pretty.

“Don’t fight it, gorgeous,” Satoru coaxed, finding his voice again. He plunged his finger deeper inside you, twisting and twirling so slowly that you almost saw stars. “Fucking hell, this pussy is so greedy. She’s sucking in my finger like it’s nothing. Such a perfect cunt for me.”

“St-Stop with that c-cocky shit, oohhh god,” you gasped, lowering yourself back down and ducking your head into Satoru’s shoulder as he worked another finger into you slowly, your juices squelching loudly with their lazy pump in and out.

“So you can be cocky, but I can’t, hm?” he turned to murmur into your hair, listening to the sinful sounds your needy pussy made around his fingers. Your arousal proceeded to flood over him like a pool, drenching his wrist and dripping onto his balls and the wooden chair. “Mmmm, you really like this, baby. You’re drenching me so good, almost like you’ve never been fingered before.”

“This’s exactly-y why I covered y’r mouth,” you mumbled, breath hot against his neck. “You talk too goddamn muchhh, fuck, Toru, right there! Right fucking there, like thattt…”

“Hm? Like this?” he curled the tips of his fingers against your walls and you yelped, notifying him that he had discovered your sweet spot. “Right there, right pretty?”

“I already told you, yes,” you moaned, gripping the back of his chair. “Yes, yes,” you murmured, and Satoru hissed.

“Enjoy it, baby. So pretty. Such a gorgeous girl, such a gorgeous little pussy…”

“Fuck, Satoru,” you exhaled raggedly. The said man made a noise of acknowledgement, hypnotized by the steady stroke of his fingers into you. With your hand still wrapped over his cock, you slid your it up his shaft slowly, squeezing softly. Satoru’s fingers froze inside you, his face burying into your hair.

“Oh my god…” he grunted, closing his eyes. “Your hands are so perfect.”

“You’re whipped,” you teased, lifting your hips up into the air so that his fingers could reluctantly leave.

Satoru studied the stretch of slick that connected his fingers to your cunt as they left your walls. Before he could protest, you were guiding his tip toward you and sliding your sloppy cunt overtop of it.

“(Y/n), fuckkkk,” Satoru drawled, jaw slack while he watched you ease your way down over him. The tip of his puffy dick slowly disappeared within your slimy walls, and his eyes rolled into the back of his skull with the toss of his head backward. His fingernails imprinted into your sides as you sank down, swallowing his girth and taking him into you.

You huffed out, moaning loudly with your hands now pressed into Satoru’s bare chest. His girth was quick to stretch you before you had even made it halfway. A whine caught in the back of your throat as your face tightened. You had never taken someone so big before, and he was filling you up so deliciously. You could feel every twitch, every curve, every ridge and vein of his heavy, lengthy cock as it slipped further into you, your walls tightening instinctively around him the further down you went.

“Oh, baby,” you purred. “Your dick’so… nghhh, shittt!”

“She’s soakin’ me,” Satoru choked out, assisting your glide down with the drag of your hips to his own. “So tight, god, pretty, you can’t be fucking real. You- this fucking pussy, hahhh, that’s it, baby. That’s it, keeping going. All the way. Please, baby, please. Want to fill you up. Need to be all inside this messy cunt.”

“So big,” you mused, watching as he sank into you halfway, and for the first time in your life, you paused. “Fuck, you’re in my stomach!”

“Take it all, honey, take fucking all of it. You got it, pretty girl. Keep going.”

“Don’t- hah- need your help, fucking- fuck!” You sank down further, pushing with the pull of Satoru’s desperate hands. Your breath left your lungs momentarily, Satoru’s long dick sliding up to the hilt of your pussy and stretching you absolutely full. You could feel him everywhere, your bum reaching his balls the moment you saddled onto him completely.

Satoru’s face stilled into blissful emptiness, staring down at where you were connected and the bulge that prodded against your lower tummy. “That’a girl, fuck, you’re so good,” he babbled, hands sliding up your back. His fingers blindly grabbing for a zipper. He peeled it down once he pinched it, curving his hands under your slipping dress as he exposed your bare skin to the empty space.

The straps of your dress fell down your shoulders accordingly, revealing the plush of your pretty tits that peaked over the fabric. Satoru was overwhelmed, struck by your entire being as you warmed his trembling dick, perky nipples pressing into his line of sight as your dress fell around your waist.

Satoru pushed in, pressing his hands to your lower back and arching you into him as he touched his lips to the center of your tits. His dick nudged your insides with the motion and you inhaled sharply, holding onto him tightly.

“Could you be any more fucking perfect,” he grumbled, catching your perky nimble between his lips.

Your body leaned back and he craned forward along with you, hands supporting your weight to him as he teased your nipple between his teeth. His tongue followed swiftly, lapping over your bud and sucking hungrily off your tit, spit drooling from his mouth as he made out with the plush fat. Your moans carried just as your singing had, lifting melodically into the space and bouncing regally off of the confined walls and casting Satoru deeper under your trance.

“Smell s’good, taste so good, feel so, so good. Can’t get enough of you baby, can’t.”

“You’re so sappy,” you whispered, head rolling on your shoulders and eyes closing as your cunt clenched around him in pleasure.

Satoru moaned into your chest, marking up your boobs as you had his neck. “C’mon, baby,” he grunted. “Kill me.”

You were quick to carefully lift your hips, Satoru’s length sliding along your gummy walls. You were slow at first with the withdrawal before lowering yourself down heavily, his cock slamming back into your aching pussy.

You both moaned in unison, and you wasted no more time. You set a steady pace, pushing up and pushing back down to sink over Satoru’s dick, juices leaking and mixing into his precum as you clenched repeatedly around him. You rode him out carefully, nails digging into his shoulders.

“That’s it,” Satoru purred, peering up at you from under your other tit, eyes dark enough to sink into. “Ride me out, gorgeous, use my cock.”

“Fuck, Toru, you’ve got such a good dick,” you whimpered, reaching up to tug into his hair. Gojo’s eyes rolled, skin slapping lewdly with the collision of your ass rippling against his thighs. The slimy sound of his rock hard cock sliding from your drenched heat was like music to your ears, better than any song you had ever sung, better than any cheers you had ever received.

“Ah-ngh, baby, baby,” Satoru blabbered, already fucked out. “So fucking wet, dripping all over me. Pussy feels so good, so so good…”

“Yeah? You like when I ride your dick, baby? You like being the only one I get to fuck after my show? You like being my toy, tonight?”

“Fuck yes, love it so much. Fucking love the way you fuck this cock, pretty, don’t fucking stop.”

“That’s a good boy, Toru,” you purred, sitting fully onto him mid bounce to roll your hips into his. Satoru moaned loudly, uncaring of his volume. His mouth found your tit again, sucking like a madman as you rode him deeply, ensuring that he felt every corner of your pussy around him and that you felt every glide of his slender cock into your wet heat. “You’re so good, taking my pussy, yeah?”

His cock jerked inside you and he nodded dumbly, tongue swirling desperately over your reddened nipple. You hummed in ecstasy, pushing into him once more and pressing him back as you threw your ass down onto him, slick and pre melting between your connection and stretching with the rapid slaps of your hips into his. You moaned, brows pinching as you brought your lips to Satoru’s parted ones, his groans and whines sliding into your mouth with the insertion of your tongue against his.

“Yessss,” you cooed into him. “So big, you’re filling me up so good.”

“I ca- nghhah,” Gojo was a mess, moaning helplessly as you bounced mercilessly onto his cock, trapping him against you so that neither of you had anywhere to go. “Sl-Slow down, pretty, fuckkk, shit, slow down,” he begged, but you ignored his pleas, bouncing faster as he held your hips shakily.

“Can’t take it, Toru? Hm?”

“Gonna make me fuckin’ cum already, baby, please…”

“So soon?” you nudged, lifting your hips up to roll slowly over his tip before slamming back down, continuing you pace. Satoru choked over his own voice, leaning his head back and slumping into the chair as it rocked angrily beneath your weight, attempting to support your angry thrusts. “Mmm, not surprised, baby. Saw the way you- shit, were looking at me earlier. Saw… saw your pretty hard on from onstage. You wanted my pussy so bad, didn’t you? You wanted to be snug inside me the second you saw me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he whimpered, eyes screwed shut. “Needed you. Needed to fuck you in this pretty little slutty dress. Needed my dick in this pussy the moment you laid there in front of me. Fuck, wanted to take you right there,” he whined. His hands slid back to your thighs, pressing and clawing and squeezing.

“I know, pretty boy, I know…”

“S’much better than I imagined. F-Fuck, fucking perfect. You’re so perfect. Fucking me just right, pretty.”

“You’ve got such a filthy mouth,” you groaned, head tossing back when Satoru’s dick brushed against your cervix, veins rubbing against your g-spot as you switched to rocking back and forth over him. Satoru’s hands grabbed your ass, his eyes flickering between the way your tits jiggled with your body and his dick bulged against your lower stomach with your grinding.

You knew just how to treat his dick, keeping him snug within your wet cavern and massaging it with the fluidity of your hips. “Nghmm, right there, Toru. Right thereee,” you sighed, face contorting with pleasure.

“Don’t stop, honey,” he reached a hand up to your face. “Don’t stop, keep going. Make yourself cum on my dick.”

“Fuck!”

“Yeahhhh,” he smoothed his thumb over your cheek. “Gorgeous baby, you look gorgeous.”

“Stop that,” you whimpered through broken moans, attempting to shift away from the warmth of his palm.

“Nuh-uh, pretty, let me look at you,” Satoru laced his fingers into the back of your hair, holding your face steady and your eyes to his. “Need to see those pretty eyes, they make me so hard.”

You couldn’t fight the moan that caught you, eyes swimming into his as you rolled your hips over his cock, eyes growing heavier and heavier as a knot built in your lower abdomen and your cunt clenched more frequently.

“Mhmmm,” Satoru hummed in satisfaction. “Keep looking at me, baby.”

“I said stop the sappy shit,” you gritted out through clenched teeth. You didn’t have time to pull his hand away, however, when his feet planted into the floor and he pushed up into you, throwing his arms around your lower waist to hold you to him. You cried out, curling against his chest as Satoru thrusted up into you desperately, balls slapping up against your skin as his hazy eyes peered over your shoulder to watch the connection.

“Come on, baby,” he grumbled into your ear. “Don’t give me that, let me admire you like you deserve.”

“Aghhhh, fuckkk,” you sobbed, your body rocking wildly with the force of Satoru’s thrusts. “God, m’fucking close.”

“Me too, pretty, me too,” Satoru’s voice dipped down ruggedly, an animalistic hoarseness to his tone. He couldn’t stop, fucking into you like a rabbit as if it was the very last thing on earth he was going to do.

You whined, cunt drooling over him as it prepared you for your orgasm. Your clit rubbed against his rigid abdomen, stimulating your nerves further as you quickly approached.

“Give it to me, princess. Milk my fucking cock.”

“Cum inside, Toru,” you demanded, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. “Want your cum in me…”

“Fuck, baby, fuckkkk- mmmm, shit!”

Like an ocean crashing down onto the shore, your orgasms met each other simultaneously, juices drenching his cock with slippery white cream and sticky fluid. Satoru’s arms tightened around you, his seed splurging into your cunt endlessly, his hips rocking with the continual stream of his hot cum into your aching pussy.

Your moans mixed into each other’s loudly, building into a symphony as you rode out your high, grinding weakly into him as your vision went white.

Satoru’s legs twitched, your own practically numb around his waist. His cum proceeded to leak into you, dripping down your legs and onto the floor. The two of you sat there in your breathless aftermath for a moment, Satoru tucking his nose into your shoulder and pressing a soft kiss there. He felt you sink against him, his hands smoothing gently over your back.

The moment you twitched against him, however, his cock jolted with continuous life. Satoru grunted, pushing himself up into you carefully to ease the remaining ache in his dick. You made a low noise, shifting your hips around him.

“Baby,” Satoru sighed. “Let me bring another one out of you.”

You twisted your head to the side, peeling back to look down at him curiously, slowly. Your eyes were tired, yet still dripping with lust, a soft smile playing at your lips. “Another one?” you repeated, somewhat shocked by his persistence.

“Please,” he whispered. “Need to feel you cum around me again.”

Before you could even respond, he was gripping you tight and standing from his now sticky seat. You kept your legs wrapped around him as he carefully laid you on the table, pushing your purse out of the way.

Satoru leaned over you, kissing your lips hungrily then pulling back to peck down your chest and stomach. He was suddenly so soft, caressing you and kissing you, and you watched suspiciously, unfamiliar and normally opposing this kind of contact.

Yet, you allowed Satoru to proceed.

His hands smoothed over your waist, his pants falling to his ankles. He yanked your bunched dress up and over your head, ridding your waist of the clothing article and throwing it carelessly to the side. He yanked your panties down further and slid a thumb over your clit, rubbing gentle, soothing circles over your sensitive, sopping bundle of nerves.

You jolted, feeling his cock harden inside you again as he locked your lips together. He kept his finger rolling over your soaked clit, swallowing your mewls and soft moans into his mouth.

Your hands flew to his shoulders as he pushed into you gently, his cum dripping from your entrance and squishing back up into your cunt with his soft thrust. You broke your lips from his and moaned against him, angling your brows as your pleasure built back up in an instant.

“Let me take care of this pretty pussy,” Satoru mumbled gently. “Seems like y’always take care of everyone else.”

“Satoru-“

“Shhh,” he hushed you as a broken moan fanned over his lips. He pulled back and thrusted back into you again, watching how your mouth froze open cutely and your eyes hardened. “Wanna keep feeling you. Let me keep feeling you.”

“Oh godddd…”

“Yeah, baby, yeah,” Satoru mumbled against you, pussy-drunk. He slid in and out of you with ease, pressing between your legs and pushing fully into you, ensuring that you felt every inch of him gliding back into your pretty cunt, stuffing your cunt back up with his cum. “Could stay in this pussy forever. Shit, she’s so loud. Such a good pussy. My good pussy.”

“Y-gonna split me in h-half,” you stammered, and Satoru grinned a dopey fucked out smile as he gazed at you.

“Look at you, baby,” he cooed, setting a slow pace that gradually picked up speed, rocking into you with the continuous swift caress of your clit. Your body was twitching, brows furling into the sky. “God, fucking look at you. M’so lucky, so lucky I got to have you tonight and not those other- f-fucking, ngh- bastards staring you up and down. Tonight, this pussy is for me. She’s treating me so good.., ruining me for any other pussy.”

“Uhhh, Toru,” you quivered. Satoru responded swiftly, bucking his hips and plowing into you rapidly, watching as your chest stuttered with shattered breaths and your legs writhed around him the quicker he moved circles over your puffy clit. “Gonna- fuck, what the fuckkk, gonna cum againnn…”

“Fuck, can’t get enough of you. Want you to come undone, baby, let go. Let gooo.”

You clawed at his arms, watching his fingers work over your clit and his dick spear into your quivering walls. You dragged your nails down his bicep, leaving bright red scratches, but Satoru couldn’t have cared less.

You came again without warning, liquid gushing around his dick with your stunning cries. Satoru’s eyes glazed over, hand ripping from your clit so that he could cage over you, pressing his body down into yours as he demolished your pussy, squirt sprouting over his skin and with each pull away before he thrusted back in. Your fluids flew everywhere, and Satoru kept going.

“Fuck!! Fuck, fuck, fuck, give it to me, baby, fuck meeee, fuck me harder, Toru!”

You were fucking insatiable. You clawed at his back as his inhumane strength kicked in, his hips snapping against yours with feral aggression, grunting and crying out into your ear.

“Keep squirting on my dick, baby, just fucking like that. You’re so fucking good, love this sloppy cunt. It’s all for me, pretty, all for me.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and Satoru wasn’t far behind you. He snapped himself into you three more times before stilling with a hefty groan, ropes more of his cum pooling into you and spilling onto the ground. He kept his body locked on top of yours, legs kicking around his torso as he fed you his seed, moaning pathetically into your skin. If you weren’t on birth control, you were absolutely sure that Satoru Gojo would have gotten you pregnant.

You huffed heavily, closing your eyes to catch your breath and soak in the silence. Never in your life had you been fucked the way this man had just fucked you at your place of work, and never in your life had you been worshipped or handled the way he had done so to you, despite your understanding of your impact on men.

You laughed suddenly once recovered, body jumping with your amusement. Satoru lifted his head from you, peering down at you, dazed, with his own gentle smile on his lips.

“What’s funny?” he murmured, eyes taking you in like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Nothing, I just- don’t know what I expected from you,” you sighe.

Satoru tilted his head. “In a good or bad way?”

“A fucking good way.”

Your response was enough to have Satoru beaming, lowering his forehead to rest on your chest momentarily. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he breathed. “You really are something else, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“No, really,” he lifted his head for a final time to lock eyes. “I mean it.”

Your face fell slightly as he looked at you. You sucked your teeth, pushing him away the moment your cheeks tingled. “You’re still too sappy.”

Satoru laughed softly. “How could I not be when you’re talented, gorgeous, and you have the best pussy I’ve ever felt in my life?”

“You’re telling me stuff I already know, honey. I’ve heard it all before..”

“Guess I’ll just tell you again and again,” Satoru grinned, stealing a swift kiss from your nose before sitting up carefully, looking down at where the two of you were still connected. “Uhhh… you wouldn’t happen to have a towel around here, do you?”

You grimaced, sitting up on your shoulders to survey the mess that kept the two of you united. You looked up at him, corners of your lips twitching.

“How about we give each other head, lick it up, and call it a night?”

Satoru whipped his head back up to stare at you with wide eyes. You knew you had steered into the right direction when you felt his length harden inside you again.

“Sounds good to me,” he smirked.

•

The following day, Satoru dialed Utahime’s at around one pm. The line rang for a bit before it finally picked up.

“What?” the woman growled into the mic.

“Utahimeee,” Satoru greeted cheerfully, instantly feeling the aggravation wave off of the brown eyed women from the other end of the line. “How are you today?”

“Fine, Gojo. What do you want?”

“Nothing, really. I just wanted to call to tell you that you were right all along. I’m humble enough to admit that. Last night was undoubtedly the best staff outing that we’ve ever had, and it was all thanks to you. I’ll let you plan the things we do more often now,” he beamed.

“…”

Satoru could envision her pinching the bridge of her nose while her other hand pressed the phone to her ear.

Satoru’s lips tugged downward as he tried to hold back the amused laugh that was threatening to leave him. “You there?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Oh. Did you hear what I said?”

“You two had sex, didn’t you?”

“Whatttt?” Satoru scoffed. “Me and who?”

“WHO ELSE, IDIOT?!”

The blue eyed man chuckled slightly. “Look, I never kiss and tell.”

“Then why did you call me?!”

“To thank you for your evening suggestion, obviously,” he said. “Oh, and to tell you that I put your little inquiry to the test.”

“What inquiry?”

“That (Y/n) would break me.”

Utahime exhaled loudly. “I really don’t want to hear about that details-“

“I told you already. I don’t kiss and tell,” Satoru reassured. “But, I will say, she’s really not all that evil.”

“I never said she was evil.”

“You said something along those lines.”

“Yes, I meant she schemes. You had sex with her once, Gojo. As long as it stays that way, it’ll be fine. But the longer you spend time with her, the deeper you’ll fall, and the faster you’ll be torn to shreds. She’s my friend and I love her, but I know very well how she gets with men. I’ve seen it a hundred times over.”

Satoru pursed his lips, thinking back to the two of you exchanging numbers after he had walked you home.

“Utahime, let’s not forget who’s the strongest sorcerer of the modern age here. I’ll be fine. I don’t risk falling for anyone.”

“…yeah, that’s what they all say.”

Satoru didn’t take Utahime’s warning seriously, of course. You were too pretty for him to turn away from you so quickly, and if you were willing to keep a casual relationship that didn’t interfere with his line of work or your separation from so, he didn’t see any harm in the matter.

Satoru Gojo was the strongest to roam this planet, yes, but you had still somehow managed to bring the strongest to a point of vulnerability, to a place where he was willing to release his technique for you effortlessly, which he never did in the presence of anyone outside of his students, let alone for a non-sorcerer.

Satoru could absolutely understand and physically see where Utahime was coming from, for your impact on him was strangely inhumane despite you being one yourself but hell, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get you out of his head if he didn’t at least stop by to see you perform and feel himself inside you one more time, if anything.

After all, what could have been the harm in that?

629 notes · View notes

divinesolas · 9 months ago

Note

hiii, how are you? I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do Jacaerys Velaryon x reader. Where reader is Alicent’s firstborn daughter, and they were married in hopes to reconcile the family. Could you do newly married headcannons for them, sfw and nsfw. They don’t necessarily show their hate 24/7, they married out of duty, and for their families but they don’t get along or make efforts to get along, if that makes sense. More like a subtle enemies to lovers. If you can do this, it would be great. And I hope you have a wonderful day 😊😊😊

a/n: hiii i am great i hope youve been well. <3 TYSM FOR THE REQUEST !! sorry it took me a couple days to get too !! i went a little overboard sorry i just loved this rq sm !! <3 hope you enjoy !! (this is more of a fic in headcannon format :3)

word count: 2k

warnings: smut, slight enemies to lovers, slight baela/jaacerys romance for the drama, happy ending not bulleted, not proofread, avoided the use of y/n

You didn't hate jacaerys targaryen. No, you never had strong feelings about him. Even in your youth as you grew up you never thought much about him. If anything the most you had ever had is a slight resentment towards him for his treatment of aemond.

Your engagement had come as a surprise. Especially knowing how much your mother didn't care for rhaenyra or her family, especially her sons. But apparently rhaenyra and Alicent had a moment together and the two managed to come to an agreement for the sake of the family.

You couldn't gauge his reaction when he heard the news, he did not seem as shocked as you, leading you to believe he had already been informed. The two of you stared at each other and you could sense his annoyance. You've never had any bad blood so you don't understand what he could be so annoyed about until his eyes stray from you and you turn your head to where he's looking and notice he was looking at baela who also had a saddened look on her face but covered it up well. The two of you barely speak during the wedding prep.

The two of you actually argued quite a bit about the ceremony. You had wanted one more to your faith, the seven, while he was insistent that you had a traditional targaryen ceremony and for it to take place at driftmark.

“Of course you would want it at driftmark.” you scoff His head shoots up and he gives you a glare. “What could that possibility mean?”

“Nothing my dear i just find it funny that you of all people want a ceremony at driftmark. What sort of relation do you have there? Wouldn't a place like harrenhal suit you better”

His hands slam on the table and he stands his eyes never leaving yours as his face turns angry.

You can hear your mother scold you but you just laugh and keep a smile on your face. The meaning of your words are very clear to him but as he opens his mouth to speak his mother interrupts suggesting just to have two ceremonies.

You roll your eyes as he sits back down and agrees. The two of you continue to make sly remarks at one another to many, It would just look like friends poking fun at one another but the two of you knew that you two could barely stand each other. It was easy enough to fool the public into thinking the two of you had been a love match. Especially since they had no clue the two of you did not speak outside of public appearances.

Your wedding was magical, without any of the magic. You would have two ceremonies, one of the more intimate traditional Targaryen ceremony and one longer three day ceremony for the faith. you ended up having the targaryen ceremony first. It was a very small ceremony with only your family there.

Even though you held no feelings towards the velaryon boy there's something so intimate about the tradition ceremony that it had even your heart skipping.

you couldn't tell if he felt the same, he had a clearly fake pleased look but you did notice he did not spare baela one glance but instead had spent that night dancing with you.

you two decided not to consummate the marriage that night much to your relief, and would wait till your other wedding night. The public had no clue the two of you were already married, during your wedding feast many would come up to you and spare their congratulations and provide a gift.

You and jacaerys sat at the head of the table. The night had been going fine until one particular lord came up and started saying some inappropriate comments about you.

You began to shrink in your seat and could not find a voice to say anything yet you did not have to as jacaerys was quick to shut him down, his tone had changed much from his kinder tone earlier while regarding guests.

He had laced his land with yours and quickly shooed him away. He had turned to you and asked you if you were alright and all you could do was nod. jacaerys keeps his hand laced with yours the whole night. Despite the fact the two of you are still at odds you find comfort with his warm hand in yours.

The next day was the tourney. You knew jacaerys was going to be competing. No one dared to ask you for your favor. When jacaerys finally was announced he immediately strolled over to the royal box where you had been sitting, “your favor my love?”

After you had reached out and tied it around his sword he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to the back before riding away. When your wedding rolled around it had once again been a pleasant ceremony. A part of you which you didn't want to acknowledge felt as though there was a small smile on Jace's face when the two of you kissed. The celebration afterwards has also been nice but a part of you felt dread as you realized the bedding ceremony had been right around the corner. Jacaerys had noticed at some point during the festivities you had been upset, “are you alright?”

You didn't want to mention it so you just nodded my head and didn't turn to face him. You could feel his stare and when you didnt turn towards him he sighed. “If you hold any worries about the bedding ceremony, put them to rest. I have already insisted it is not necessary.” You whip your head towards him in shock but he had turned away from you and was staring at the crowd drinking from his chalice. “You did?”

“Of course, there is no reason to. Though the maesters were insistent they checked you afterwards. I had attempted to avoid that as well but they were persistent.” “Why?”

His face scrunched as if he had been confused about your question. “You did not want to do it. Did you?” Your head begins to hurt as you think about the fact he had put in all the extra effort to make sure you did not have to do something you did not want to.

The two of you decided to call it a night and you attempted to ignore your brothers yells of encouragement as you quickly exited the room. You had arrived at your chambers first and were quickly stripped out of your extravagant dress by some maids and the pit in your stomach continued to grow.

There was no way jacaerys would be a cruel lover. Sure the two of you did not get along most of the time but you felt he had been kind to you today and the last couple days. Lost in your thoughts you barely noticed as jacaerys walked into the room still in his formal wear and dismissed all the maids. You stood up to face him and suddenly it became alarmingly clear to you that you two were alone in this room while he was fully dressed and you were wearing a plain white nightgown. No words are spoken between the two of you as you stare as he begins to remove his formal wear. “I am sorry.”

His back is turned to you as he removes his coat and you watch as he freezes “what for?” “This whole marriage. You clearly did not want this and I am sorry you are being forced into this. Maybe I do not want it as well but it must feel worse for you.”

Your head had fallen to the floor as you went on. His hand grabbed your chin and he forced you to lock eyes with him. He had a relaxed face as he gave you a concerned look. “It is our duty you must be upset about it as well. Why would it be worse for me?”

“I assumed you had relations with baela..” you trail off and try to look away but his grip immediately pulls you back. “I promise you I shall never be unfaithful if that is your worry. You are my wife. I could not imagine disrespecting you that way.” It is clear to you he does not deny the fact he has feelings for her but you choose to ignore this fact as he leans in and kisses you. It becomes painfully obvious to the two of you that you are both terribly inexperienced He leads you over to the bed as you gasp as you fall back onto the bed

He is a very kind lover though it was very obvious to him he struggled to know what to do His fingers were clumsy as he attempted to prep you (which you did not expect as your mother told you he would just stick it in) But once he got to the rhythm of it he was very good and soon enough you had your first come. “Are you sure you've never done this nephew?” He laughs and shakes his head, “never dear auntie though i did read up on it.”

He kisses down your neck as he slips off your dress Lost in the feeling you barely noticed that he had slipped off his trousers he was still wearing and was fully nude You would say he has a nice dick but you've never seen another one so you have nothing to compare it to You fight the urge to reach out and grab it He clumsily lines himself up and it hurts.

He presses kisses all over your face in an attempt to calm you down and waits for you to give him the okay before he begins to move. Your mother had spent the last week tell you to be prepared to just lay there and take it and you would find no enjoyment at all but in this exact moment you had no clue what she was talking about You had never felt this amazing in your life, he was kissing you as one of his hands was playing with your clit and another one was locked with yours next to your head.

He was slow, not the rough and hard pace you had been expecting. He valued your pleasure just as much if not more than his own. He was also much more vocal that you had expected, your mother told you men do not make much noise but as he laid his head right next to your ear you could hear ever groan and whine leave his lips He encouraged you to come first before he spilled himself inside you. When he got up soon after you felt a chill, your mother did say men did just quickly leave as soon as they were done. To your surprise all he had done was get up to alert the maids to draw a bath for you.

This however alerts the maester and your mother who comes running in, your mother obviously concerned when she sees you but you reassure her you are fine. Jaacerys was nowhere to be seen and did not return til you were already asleep. You had expected the two of you to have a better relationship after the last couple days have been nice but jacaerys has a very sudden shift in attitude and is back to his sly remarks. A part of you feels sick as if the last couple days had just been a ruse to not have to force you to bed him and he was just like all men. Even when he comes back to bed you he is certainly not as nice as the first time.

“Jaacerys must be rather upset these days.” your brother aemond says over tea one morning “However, would you know that?” “Baela has been betrothed to one of arryns.” Now it has made sense to you and you find yourself seething with anger.

When he comes to join the two of you for tea you quickly make some excuse and rush away ignoring jacaerys confused look as he looks after you. The next couple days follow a similar routine. He is up before you and you pretend to oversleep so you miss breakfast with him, you busy yourself with other activities and avoid even being in the same room as him and when he tried to see you before bed you were already pretending to sleep. After the third day of this you hear him sigh as he sees you in bed already.

That next morning you expect things to go a similar way as the last couple had but were shocked to see jacaerys there instead of aemond who you were supposed to have tea with. “Jacaerys.” “Sit” “I'm supposed to be meeting with aemond-” “And you're meeting with me instead. Sit.” You begrudgingly sit and speak no words as he pours you a cup and you wordlessly take a sip. “You have nothing to say?” “Should i?”

He rolls his eyes, “we have not spoken in many a moon.” “I have been busy.” He scoffs, “busy with what?” You grow angry at his tone, “I apologize my prince but just because some of us aren't crowned princes that does not mean the things we spend our days doing are unimportant.” His face immediately drops as he rubs his hands over his face, “I am sorry, my lady, I didn't mean it like that.” You say nothing just look off to the side “I have just missed you.”

You laugh and his face grows angry once more, “what's that?” “Are you sure it's me you miss?” “Whatever does that mean.” You continue to laugh, “surely it must be your dear baela you miss not i. I heard she is to be married off.” His face turns confused, “what does baela have anything to do with this?”

“She is the reason you are upset, no? Why have you been upset?” He sighs and puts his head in his head. “No, I mean yes but no.” “What does that mean?” “I am not upset that she is betrothed.” You keep silent as he continues, “i thought we were meant to be ever since i was a young kid and i do admit that i was more than angry when i had been informed i would be marrying you and even angrier when we continued to argue but after a while i realized that i had enjoyed your company more and more, especially after our wedding.” A light blush dusts his face, “and when i heard the news of baelas betrothal i had expected myself to be filled with rage but i felt nothing. And that terrified me. The only thing I could think about was you.”

“I avoided being short tempered and nasty with you so I apologize but these couple days without speaking to you have been tortuous. I have come to realize I need you.” You are frozen as a warm feeling fills you, you can tell by the look on his face he means every word. “I love you jacaerys.” “And I love you my beloved.”

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usernameforaboredcat · 1 year ago

Text

Growing Old Together

What life is like when you make the life long choice to grow old with them. Life, family, love, all the things that are needed to get old and crusty with the man you love.

Firstly, you two would wait AFTER he becomes King of the Pirates for literally anything to develop in your relationship. He’s too busy focusing about becoming King of the Pirates and finding the One Piece to worry about something like a relationship. Of course there would be that tension, the casual closeness and moments that just the two of you share. Never like boyfriend girlfriend shit, just casually sharing food or sleeping in the same bed all cuddled up, but no relationship. The day the crew found the One Piece and Luffy finally became the King, he asked you to be his Queen.

With such title, came a promise to protect you and forever be by your side, along with it being a proposal. Which yes it’s weird from being a ‘so are they a thing or not?’ for years on end to getting married, but it works for you two and you personally couldn’t have it any other way. You can finally call your captain your lover, officially being each other’s special someone.

It doesn’t take too long to finally have your first and only child. A little boy, he’s all you two need. Neither you or Luffy could think of a name, so Robin chipped in and suggested the name Isra, meaning journey, like yours and Luffys journey together as individuals, a crew, and the journey of going through parenthood together. You both fell in love with the name, thus keeping it. And boy did Isra grow up to be exactly like his father, so full of energy and love in his heart. The crew fell in love with little Isra, enjoying the little boys company and the simple joy he bought to the crew. It was just like having two Luffys

As he got older, Isra would train with his father to become strong and a reliable member of the crew. He is the son of the King of the Pirates, to say he had a lot of pressure was an understatement. Especially since Luffy still remembered what Ace would say about Roger, and it would kill him if history repeated itself. But of course it didn’t, Isra grew up with a crew that loved and respected him, an Angel of a mother, and a father that any kid would ever dream of having.

Anything was on the table for this man, willing to put his dreams of finding The All Blue just to make you happy from day one of you two dating. But when you told him that his dreams where just as important as his and that you’d be willing to duel wield your dreams he fell for you all over again, dropping down on one knee and proposing on the spot. But it was a few years before you two finally tied the knot, after you two had celebrated the arrival of two baby girls. As much as Sanji wanted to marry you before having kids, biology can’t help that you got pregnant. Which is how little baby Sora came along, naming her after his mother. Than around 5 months later on the night he was going to propose, you drop the bomb of already being a month pregnant. And soon enough Kairi came along. Your two little girls, named after the sky and the ocean.

You two had one big wedding, the Straw Hats and at the Baratie. Unknowingly you referred to Zeff as the girl’s grandfather, never have you seen such a tough man melt so fast. The wedding was short and sweet, your big family all together. And that might lead to the creation and soon birth of your third daughter, Lucy. You picked the name in memory of your captain and his alias back in Dressrosa. If it wasn’t for Luffy, you two would have never met and never had your three beautiful girls, it was your personal way of saying ‘thank you’ to him. Luffy actually greatly appreciated the thought, taking the gesture very personally and taking the fact with pride. Definitely doesn’t flex it saying “I have a kid named after me”.

After that as time went on, you two had two more kids and finally decided to stop. Two more girls, named Oceana and Koi. Sanji prided himself on being the number one girl dad, and that he was. All 5 girls being his spoiled princesses, all they’d have to do is bat their eyes and he’d bring them the whole world, sun, and moon. Funnily enough, they all grew up and developed their fathers love of cooking, wanting to be just like him. He felt so proud, have a little class of his little princesses to teach. Not only did he teach them cooking, the girls grew up seeing how a woman should be treated. Not through directly telling them, but just how he would treat you. Always make you feel like the Goddess you are. I mean you gave him all 5 of his beautiful daughters, growing and making them in your own body and going through hours of pain to bring them into the world. He can never express how gratefully he is.

Lucky for him he doesn't have to worry about his girls too much. They didn't get much when it comes to his sheer strength, but they did get both yours and his head strong attitude and not the type of girls to deal with shit. Sure they get into fights a lot because some guy thought it would be a good idea to flirt with one of them, but honestly you and Sanji can't help but feel like the most proudest parents.

Zoro never thought about dating, getting married or having kids. But something about you triggered something in his brain. It wasn't a whole love at first sight and have kids, it was more like a 'out of all these idiots you irritate me the least' and you didn't mind that. You treated each other with a neutral respect, that's what kept you close to each other. Two peas in a pod, attached by the hip, the brains and the brawn. It was only until during the two years that you two thought through your feelings for each other, missing each other and hating not having the other. The second Zoro first saw you again, all he said was "never leave my side again". And that you didn't, ever. You stayed by his side, up until years later when Luffy became King and he could finally chill out a bit. He was still developing using more swords, but now he could focus on other important things. You. Which was the day he gave you that ring, saying the same thing he did years ago. "Never leave my side again". And you accepted.

As if it was some romance novel, your wedding night lead to the creation of your daughter. It was your idea to name your daughter after Zoros deceased childhood friend, looking him in the eyes as your baby sleeps in your arms. "I've always like the name Kuina, it's such a beautiful name! And I know you'll make her proud, her, and our little Kuina". Your words brought tears to his eye, something he hasn't done in a long time. Although he loved and appreciated the name, he'd always call her Squirt. He devoted himself to teaching how to use a sword, since she always used to try and nibble on them when she was teething. When she got old enough he trained her everyday on how to use a blade, over the years teaching her to use two swords. He of course offered to teach her 3 sword style, but she was happy with the two.

Luckily for you, Zoro, and the Straw Hat crew, she didn't inherit Zoros terrible sense of direction. In the case of that event, both you and Zoro requested that Nami teach her navigation. She happily did of course, but not for free. She was a very sweet girl, but was probably double the amount of dense at her father. Can navigate but has zero social awareness, a fair trade from Zoros point of view. But he's always been social unaware, which surprisingly enough he's the only person to get that side of her. There would be something life threatening happening before their eyes, everyone would be freaking out especially Chopper, Nami and Usopp, but poor Kuina and Zoro would just watch with a blank stare before dealing with the threat. In which, Zoro knew that his daughter would be able to take care of herself, she is his daughter after all.

Which is probably the best part of his side of parenthood. Your crew would be adventuring or something and Kuina would be gone and you'd be loosing your mind worrying about your daughter, Zoro would just give you a blank look and tell you to "calm down, woman. She's fine". She always was, but you're a mother. Kuina is basically Zoros side kick, second in command, his left hand woman, his missing eyes, the one who covers his back. He liked to brag to the cook that his daughter is as strong as he was at her age, even going as far as to sometimes say "my 10 year old daughter is stronger than you, pervert cook" which would of course always start a fight. Not that she minded, she always got a kick out of her father getting into arguments with the ships cook. Much to your dismay.

The fact that someone like you confessed to him in the first place was already a shock. You had always been so kind, helping out anyone who needed it. Which makes sense as to why you where Marcos main nurse, his number 2. For a while he just thought you where just being nice, until you two got drunk one night and ranted everything to each other. Ace thought that you'd never talk to him again, think of him as some monster child like everyone else. But no. "Why should I care if your Rogers son? I'm a whitebeard pirate! And so are you, so to pops we're family. And I like being around you, much more fun to be around than all these old men". And he fell hard. The next day he casually asked you out, which you said yes. Even after what you said, he didn't know if he should trust that this would last long. It would be nice while it lasted, the cuddles and kisses, holding someone at night, a drinking partner, someone to keep warm at night during the winter, someone to keep him cold during the summer with how cold womans bodies get, just someone to love him. But the ending never came, shocked even when you brought up the idea of going more and more steps further into the relationship, finally leading to you asking about marriage.

Before deciding what happens next in your relationshit the events of Impel Down and Marineford go down, but end better than hoped. Ace didn't listen to the antagonizing words of the marine, instead he came sprinting for you to scoop you up in his arms and take you far away from all this danger. You're a nurse after all, you shouldn't be this far into the battle field. That was actually the day he finally asked, you, him, and the Whitebeard pirates rushing back to the ship, you safe in his arms, he smiles as he looks down at you. "Let's get married". And you did. The Whitebeard Pirates and the Straw Hats, coming together for your wedding. Soon after, your boss Doctor Marco looked you in the eyes and told you that you're pregnant. It was probably the first time in his life that Ace had cried, knowing that he was going to be a dad. To start a family with you, a family away from Roger, a family starting within the Whitebeard Pirates. You had your daughter, naming her Rouge, after his beloved mother. The woman who slowly forced herself to die just so she could bring Ace into this world.

A few years later you had your son, Eddy. His namesake being your captain, Edward. He was so touched by the gesture, an adorable innocent little one being named after him. Being even more toughed when you two asked for him to be the Godfather. Of course he said yes, already accepting the title of grandpa anyway. You also asked Marco to be a Godfather, gratefully for the man who saved you and brought you to the pirates. The crew loved having the two little ones running around the ship, it bringing a new layer of joy on board. Someone's having a bad morning? The two kids come running past happily playing and laughing. Depression cured. With the two kids, Rouge was an exact copy of how Ace was as a kid, Ace actually finding it funny cause Eddy was exactly like Luffy as a kid. Same age gap to. Eddy was the cute little happy idiot who would talk to anyone and everyone, and if anyone was mean to him you'd expect his big sister to appear out of nowhere and bite your ear off.

The two grew to be amazing, Rouge always staying the protective older sister and taking care of her brother. She developed multiple skills in case Eddy wanted to go off and be a pirate without their parents and he needed a crewmate. A doctor? She's got it. A navigator? She's got it. A cook? She's got it. A shipwright? She's got it. Anything Eddy would need for his crew, his big sister has his back. You and Ace are glad that the two have such a good relationship, especially Ace. Remembering how much of a dick he used to be to Luffy he's glad that his daughter is such an amazing big sister. But where Rouge knew knowledge, Eddy was the fighter. He was the one that started fights and punching people in the face, doesn't mean that Rouge was weak by any means. Say Eddy heard someone making an off handed comment about his sister, he'd hit first. But if they hit him back, she'd come in and hit third. Ace is honestly looking forward to the day his kids will go off and make a name for themselves, knowing that they'll be two forces' to deal with.

Surprisingly enough it didn't take too long for sparks to fly with you two. Knew each other for 3 months before dating, which to outsiders looking in it looked like 'oh they'll last a month and never speak again' but no, it was as if that sweet honeymoon phase never ended and constantly being sweet and lovey dovey. Which lead to only dating for a year and him dropping down on one knee, you said yes. Because of his line of business it had to be insanely small with just the two of you and a priest, of course you two sent out a few letters to close family to tell them. Which was his little brother and boss, and your very close family. He didn't think this would happen, especially since you where once a pretty girl he saw on the street while he was in Dressrosa. Not like me minds, he's madly in love and you love him just as much as he loves you. It didn't take long before you fell pregnant, which is when stuff with life started to change. You where moved to a Revolutionary secret hideout to keep you safe, especially with how many enemy's would love to kill you and your unborn baby. You didn't mind, spending most of your time with Koala and talking about parenthood with Dragon, not like he could say much in the first place.

9 months later your daughter was born, little baby Nova. Her name was a heavy topic between you and Sabo, wondering what to name your little princess. Nothing ever felt perfect enough. Until one night while laying together, looking up at the stars with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you and one on your stomach. He said it. "Nova". "Nova?". "Yeah, like a supernova in the stars, and it also means 'New', like my new life with you". "Nova it is". And that's when it was decided. She was the light of his life, not leaving home for almost a month just to be with you and your daughter. You told him that he needs to work and people need him, which he eventually gave in and finally went back to his work under Dragon. There would be time that he would be gone for weeks on end but you knew he'd always come back, and when he did he'd always hug his family close and never want to let go. As she got older she was granted a normal life, being able to go to school and make friends, while under the watchful eye of the Revolutionary. Sabo is very high ranked after all, if anything happened to Nova it would break the hearts of everyone who knew the girl. He always made sure to make it for birthdays and bringing back an amazing gift from the country he had returned from, which defiantly not making her classmates jealous.

As Nova got older, Sabo had told her the truth behind his work and how important and truly scary it really was. Even at the age of 13 when she was told she understood compliantly, she wasn't an idiot. Speaking of, Nova was very smart for such a young age with Sabo being her teacher. She was a little of an outsider because of it, kids her age hating how smart and spoilt she was. She didn't care, she didn't really like them either. And besides, there was an entire organization that practically kissed the ground she walked on. At only age 17, she looked up at her father with a serious stare. "I want to join the Revolutionary". And she did. She wasn't sent to do anything scary or too dangerous, just starting off to help with Koala and her father on missions. You felt so proud of your family, your husband and daughter being Revolutionaries and working hard to change the world for the better. You where just a girl who would spend her days working at a bakery, years later you're married and birthed two people who are changing the world.

Eventually as she got older, Nova became Sabos right hand woman, taking over Koala's job and working hand in hand with her father. She always was a daddies girl, even if he was slightly absent during the early years. He hates himself for that, but he defiantly is making up for lost time by working with her now. Still his spoilt princess though, but she wasn't a spoilt brat. You raised her better than to be a brat, always making sure she grew up to be gratefully and knowing that her daddy wasn't like the other kids dads and could gift her different things. Which she always took to heart, always using it till you two practically begged her to stop using it. Like if he got her a beautiful kimono from Wano, she'd wear it even when it wouldn't fit and was practically falling apart. She has a box under her bed of everything Sabo ever got her that she can't use anymore, not having the heart to ever get rid of it. She thinks it's a secret, but of course you know and you told Sabo. Sabo hopes that one day if needed, she'll take over his roll in the Revolutionary. She would want nothing more, knowing it would make him proud.

Your crew mates described you two as childhood sweethearts, but Law begged to differ. That day in the snow, begging Penguin and Sashi to stop hurting the poor bear, Law appearing and saving Bepo, you and Bepo following him around like lost puppies, and befriending Penguin and Sashi. The OG crew was what you 5 where called. It wasn't a secret that you had a crush on Law and it wasn't a secret that he liked you, but you where always too considerate of his feelings and waited for him to confess when he was ready. He knew that you where doing this and he appreciated the thought, and oh how he wanted desperately to finally tell you how he felt and how much he had fallen for you over the years. What was stopping him? Doflamingo, obviously. He didn't want to get you to get hurt because of him, especially knowing the type of man that Doflamingo is. If he knew that Law had someone that close to him, God doesn't know what that big bird would do to you just to hurt Law. Once it was over, he knew he was ready to confess. But of course shit happens, Straw Hat shit. During the celebration at Wano, the celebration of freeing the country from Kaido. He watched the fireworks with you, and finally told you how he felt. "I've loved you for years now, I've waited years to hold you in my arms. Now, you are safe. And I want you to be safe with me for however long you wish". You grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly. "I'd be more than happy to be with you, for however long you wish to have me".

It took a decade before finally getting married, but a little something popped up between this time. Well, someone. Well...two little someone's. 3 years into your relationship, the Heart Pirates celebrated the announcement of a new member joining, a member created by you and Law. Law was your own personal doctor, giving you daily check ups and his own prescription of how to healthily grow the baby. But while he was doing a check up during your second trimester, his eyes lite up as he told you. "Twins". Two little girls, his little angels. He was anxious as he helped you give birth, no one else was allowed in this moment. After hours and hours, little baby Cora and Rose laid in their bed together all wrapped up like burritos. The crew fell in love with the two girls, swearing to risk their lives for them. Especially uncle Sashi, Penguin and Bepo, self proclaimed uncles by the way.

Law’s a very hands on parent, being a huge helicopter parent for the first 4 years of their lives and closely monitoring their early years of development. Nothing went by without his knowledge, talking things through with you of course since you literally grew and pushed them out. He also wanted his girls to be smart and able to take care of themselves if needed, even if he was keeping a close eye on them over the first 18 years. His girls are free to develop their own interests and hobbies of course, he wasn’t that type of helicopter parent. It took a long time of reassurance from you telling him that the girls are fine and that there’s no one that can hurt them. He knows that there isn’t really anything or anyone that can harm his girls, not with him, you, the crew, and the Straw Hats around. But he’s still going to be anxious as all hell.

But he never ever had to worry about it, his twins where perfectly fine while growing up. The only problem really would be the pranks the two would pull on the crew while they grew up, being identical twins and all. You found it hilarious when they went through their creepy twin phase, especially since it worked so well of your crewmates who would always get all jumpy. Law made sure the girls grew up with at least a brief knowledge about medical care in case they needed it, both growing a interest in anything and everything medical, the sweet to the gory. It should have been a tell tail sign, the girls loved to collect dead animal bones or poke at rotting animals with sticks as kids. You obviously raised the concern with Law, but he reassured you that it's okay. Now they're talented surgeons and morticians, Law was defiantly proud but you on the other hand wished that at least one of them didn't have such a morbid interest. But they're both happy and that's all you care about in the end.

This is the oddest, it being Kid and all. Kid never really expected or planned or even wanted something like a partner or kids. He liked the idea of being free and casually getting to fuck whoever and do whatever he wanted, until you joined. It was actually Killers idea, seeing you being sold off at Sabaody and telling Kid how he knew you from his younger years being known as a little freak who can basically turn any plant into median. The older boy always kept an eye on a kid like you, always wanting the best even with how you where treated just because of your gift. So Kid took it up, during the commotion he ordered Killer to grab you and take you with them. You didn't really fit in with the group, being surrounded by tall buff scary men. You where more the soft smile, the people person, the kind heart, the "Don't worry, I'll make you feel better in no time" on the crew. At first Kid hated that about you, hating that he was convinced to have some softy chick on his crew. It was only during the time of nursing him and helping him through the phantom pains of loosing his arm did he actually start to soften up. You where patent with his suborn attitude, until you'd angrily snap at him if he was actually at risk of hurting himself.

He kinda liked that you had that switch, especially seeing you so nice and happy all the time. He wouldn't admit that he had developed a little crush on you, it didn't get any better. His brain skyrocketed and his crush grew in an instant during a drunken hookup, his brain short circuiting at how much of a secret sex Goddess you are. Taking him so well, saying and doing all the right things, being able to make him finish many times with just your hands and mouth. Sure sex isn't the number one important thing in a relationship, it was the fact that a sweet girl like you had a dark side, and he was in love. He would have been happy keeping his crush to himself and making you just a fuck buddy...until you told him that he got you pregnant. He accepted his fate now, he couldn't bring himself to demand you to get an abortion. He later thanks his previous choice, seeing you with his son. "REX!". "Rex? Like...a dog?". "IT'S A COOL AS FUCK NAME!". And that's how your son got his name, Rex. He wanted a cool tough name for his boy. He felt so proud to have a son, and a son that looked like a tiny clone of himself. He loved to keep him around, loving to watch his son do dumb shit. When he got a little older Rex would try picking fights with the other pirates on board, throwing shit and screaming. He loved his kid, Kid loving his kid.

The two would get scolded by you a lot, saying that Kid is going to raise a violent child who will be swearing by the time he's 10. Or if you'd ask them to do something and yell at you. "SHUT UP BITCH!". "YEAH BITCH". "I'm sorry, what did you two just call me?". You'd ask them with a sweet smile, the two going white in the face and muttering apologies. Not like you where absent, you where the more strict parent. Making him eat his vegetable's, go to bed on time, shower, do homework you gave him, brush his teeth, the normal stuff. The topic of marriage or even being in a relationship never came up, mainly because neither of you felt the need to. He always came to you for his sexual needs or any none asking for comfort. Neither of you went with anyone else, no sex from anyone or anything, just there for each other. You two where basically married, but never even became boyfriend and girlfriend. Not even any 'oh we should get legally married to make it feel more normal for Rex' but no. Rex understood that his parents where different, but that they still loved each other. Kid didn't need some paper or a ring to say "She's mine" when his actions showed that.

Rex was already an interesting kid, growing more and more into his dad. But just like you, he had his other side. Well instead of a dark side it was a light side. He knew how he should act in public so he'd always use what his mother had taught him to his advantage to get what he wants. Even going into making stuff like his dad and being able to sell trash for high prices, being a very charming and persuasive young business man. Little ass hat, but you and Kid still being very proud of him. You're just proud he's getting his own money and not having to beg you and Kid for money, Kid is happy that Rex has taken up his interest in making shit and being able to make tones of cash for a piss poor effort. All in all, Kid was actually an amazing dad for Rex. He was a lot more caring and loving that expected, having his little clone by his side till the day that Rex has old enough to take care of himself and fly on his own.

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