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heaven-s-black-box · 1 day ago

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Notes- Blabber Mouth; Anemo Men

x gn!Reader

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Recovery date: February 9th, 2025

Description: Anemo version of Blabber Mouth

Notes: CW a few suprise pregnancies I put Wanderer in here, but I personally subscribe to trans-man Wanderer because why would Raiden give him a male body? Also, this series is slowly separating from the original prompt and I feel like I'm just making these kids psychic but shhh, babies

Hydro Dendro Cryo Pyro Anemo Electro Geo

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Aether

Kids , he likes them but never really thought they were in his future

I mean, he’s always traveling with his sister, it’s not until Teyvat that he kind of settles down

Abyss!Aether or Traveler!Aether, they meet you and staying here doesn’t sound too bad

Your first is an accident, they make the decision for him

Not that he wanted to leave you anyways

Your second is planned, but your first born beats you to tell him

Aether comes back from wherever he was, helping Khaenri’ah, a commission, ruling the Abyssal Khaeri’ans, and your kid tackles him in a hug

Then, without you saying anything, they talk about reading a story to the baby

And you play mock offense thinking they were reading to you and Aether is trying to figure out what baby

You send your kid off to clean up their toys so you can talk

Aether drops to his knees and hugs your waist

Xiao

It’s not that he doesn’t want kids, he just doesn’t think about it because he doesn’t want another thing he can’t have

He can’t be around people normally, being around an infant? Bad idea

So, you’d have to be anything but a mortal, someone who can be around him despite his debt

Then, he gives it some thought and he’s still really not sure

It takes many conversations for him to see your side of things

Cries the first time he holds your baby

As your first grows up, he tries to figure out how to broach the subject of having another

You laugh when he finally gets it out, face red, and quickly apologize before saying another sounds nice

Your kid is very defensive, and they try defending you from one of the dogs around Wangshuu inn one day

When you ask what’s wrong, because normally the dogs aren't a problem, your kid says they saw the dog scare a baby the other day

Takes you both a second to figure out how that correlates and then it’s a trip to Baizhu

He cries, the first time it wasn’t real to him until he held the baby but this time it’s real from the start

Venti

You guys start talking about having kids, and he’s not even sure he can have them

Like, he’s a windspirit and sure he’s in human form but how far does that extend

So your first born is a bit of a surprise

But he’s so happy, sings to them all the time while your pregnant

He drinks less too, can’t be drinking at Angel’s share when he’s trying to wrangle the little whirlwind into bed

It’s one such night when your little one runs out of their room and into yours

They curl up with you in your bed, and Venti’s trying to convince them to sleep in their bed

They declare they want to sleep with their sibling

You stop reading/pretending to sleep, confused, and Venti just gives in

They make a good point, how could he pull such a protective big sibling away from their little sibling

Venti’s been around enough to know that children can just tell these things

So he just wraps you all up in his wings and you go to Barbara in the morning

If either of your kids are boys, he’s naming him after the nameless bard

Kazuha

Kids… he wants them, he doesn’t want his family line to end with him

But, it’s not really an option when he’s on the run

Once he returns to Inazuma though, he gives it more serious thought

Spending time in the forge, he sees kids run by a lot and watches their awe as they watch him

He brings it up to you, and you have your first born

We don’t know what his friend’s name is, but your first born is getting named after him

Even if he has to alter it a little bit

He likes to write poetry with your kid, it helps their vocabulary, creativity, and fine motor skills

You two also use it to encourage their self expression

So they express their excitement about the friend in your belly

That poem is getting framed, it makes you both laugh

Heizou

Likes playing with the kids in the city and around Ritou

Hasn’t really considered kids of his own

It’s not until he sees you with the kids that he starts thinking about it

I think your first is an accident, but his excitement even surprises him a bit

Not that he thought he wouldn’t be happy/excited

And your kid takes after their father’s investigative curiosity

So you start acting off and they’re running their own investigation

This one is less of a “little kid sixth sense” and more like “mini detective”

They even get Heizou to join in the investigation

But there’s definitely a bit of weird sibling psychic-ness, your first born predicts baby's gender later on

Everyone’s excited, you first born is already planning investigations to do with them

Extra note, but Heizou definitely takes your infants on easy investigations strapped to his chest in a baby harness

Wanderer

I… don’t think he can have kids, I personally think he was not modeled with the required hardware (fully believe his original model was at least a ken doll and and at most fem)

But, between handling the electro gnosis and being around Dottore, I could see him getting the hardware and systems

I do not think he knows he has these systems, mostly because he’s never tried

So your kid is an accident

And Wanderer has a lot of thoughts but, I think he holds the baby and decides that he can do this

First baby’s name is Niwa

This kid has him wrapped around their finger, and he’s happy with one

And now that you two know he can get you pregnant you two are more careful

Your kid asks for a sibling and he’s not one to deny them if you’re okay with it

They’re also the one to tell you, one day they just press a kiss to your tummy before Wanderer puts them to bed for the night

Tighnari’s in the city, so you check in with him before he leaves

I think Wanderer surprises himself with the love he feels for his kids

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kasagia · 1 day ago

Note

Hi babe 🩷 hope you’re doing okay and we miss you so much!! I don’t know if you’re still taking Feyd requests or not, but if so can you please write a little cutesy smutty piece about our sweet dark prince being so touch starved and never really knowing what a gentle or loving touch felt like and our reader shows him all the different ways that soft touches can feel good? I’m just in the mood for some Feyd worship (completely obsessed with him)

HIS Right Hand

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!ex-bene gesserit!pregnant! reader Summary: After defeating Atreides, you and Feyd rule Giedi Prime peacefully. (As peacefully as you can with him by your pregnant side.) And you show your husband a whole new side of intimacy. Warnings: 18+, canon violence, smut, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen; A kind of sequel to Right Hand - my most beloved series with our Na-Baron. Hope you will enjoy it! 🖤🖤🖤 Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist

Everything was wrong today.

Your old armour—the outfit in which you walked the corridors of Giedi Prime as Feyd's right hand—no longer fits you at all because your pregnant belly started to show.

Not that you hated it. Quite the opposite. You loved your unborn children with all your heart, but after so many changes that had come so quickly and suddenly into your life, the fact that your old clothes no longer fit somehow completely broke your composure.

So now you were standing in front of a tied prisoner; you don't even remember who he was anymore, and you were abusing him, making cuts in some places on his body, painting the floor with his blood, and his body with wounds in your current vision to get out some of these... anxiety in you.

You realise with dismay why your husband had done this so many times. It was just so fucking therapeutic.

Each cut represented your anger at something different. Stupid, useless advisors. Disgusting, back-pedalling Reverend Mothers. The emperor's spoilt little daughter was only on the throne because you and Feyd didn't want to take that position yet. A poorly cooked breakfast. Stupid, ill-fitting clothes...

"In my wildest dreams, I never thought that pregnancy would make you so aggressive, little witch. If I had known, I would have placed you in this condition earlier. It's rather... exciting to watch." Feyd sneers cockily, leaning against the doorframe and watching you work on the prisoner in unconcealed admiration.

He nods to the guards in the room, causing them to obediently leave, leaving the two of you alone with the barely alive man. Apparently, all of your deep conversations must have taken place in the presence of corpses.

"Don't provoke me, husband." You growl at him and plunge the dagger into the trapped man's chest like it was a bag of pins. The pierced flesh and muscle squelch under your movement, and you swear you see your husband's eyes blacken with lust at the sight and sound. Horny madman.

"Oh, but I love provoking you, my dear darling wife." He responds sweetly, smiling at you as he wraps his arms around your waist. He pulls you closer to him and licks the blood from your temple that had obviously splattered on you in your crazy attack on the poor man.

You must have looked ridiculously like your husband in that state. And that turned him on. Narcissistic asshole.

"Feyd." You growl at him menacingly and give him a dry, cold stare—something he's used to but has become... rare after the two of you ended up together.

He swallows and delicately reaches into your hand, removing the dagger from it—his experience with you stabbing him when you get overly emotional tells him it's best to disarm you before he says something that will unsettle you.

"What's wrong, my Baroness?" He asks, reaching for your chin and forcing you to look him in the eye. You might not have been as open a book to him as he was to you, but Feyd was slowly learning to read you. And each time, he revelled in the small victory of reading you. He hoped that this time he would succeed because you looked... very agitated and nervous. And he didn't like that at all.

"If you laugh at me, I'll spit your guts out and tell our children they never had a father." You growl your threat and rest your chin on his shoulder.

He stiffens a little, unused to being treated affectionately, but slowly he tangles his hand in your hair—perhaps one of the most ethereal things about you—and allows you to hide from his watchful gaze for a moment.

"That's a threat I'm not going to test. Just tell me who to punish."

"My clothes don't fit me anymore." You say tearfully, and, driven by some strange instinct, you nuzzle up to him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and pressing his body closer to yours.

You cry into his chest, completely oblivious to how stiff he has gone, frozen in shock at your odd behaviour.

You and he didn't have an easy past. It was unheard of for you to show any weakness, tears, or need for physical contact other than seeking sexual pleasure from others.

You, as a former Bene Gesserit, had to remain alert and composed at all times. He, as a Harkonnen, was supposed to be the definition of strength and brutality. That didn't exactly go with the cuddles, the tender, caressing touches, and other shit Feyd had read in one of your romance novels that you tried so hard to hide from him.

No, he didn't like them at all. He just liked to know what his woman was doing and liked.

Even after you and he finally ended up together, there wasn't... much tenderness in your relationship. Sure, the sex was amazing, the tension and chemistry between you unthinkable, but seeking solace and a cuddle that wasn't directly related to the hot passion of the moment? Never. Well… maybe in life-threatening situations. We all forget about control in such moments.

That's why Baron Feyd-Rautha, the great warrior, husband, and soon-to-be father, has no idea what to do when his pregnant wife cries and clings to him like some teddy bear (which neither of you have ever had, by the way).

"Hug me, damn it!" You say, or rather order him, irritated. And that side of you is already something more familiar to Feyd.

He obeys your command without hesitation, his strong arms holding you tight, and he swallows nervously, amazed at the power you have over him, how even when you're the one crying and showing your sensitive side, you still hold him by the throat, unsure of what to do next.

"Is ordering new clothes such a big tragedy?" He asks, unsure of your reaction, and by the way you stop shaking from crying in his arms, he dares to think he has solved your problem.

He's never been more fucking wrong in his entire life.

"Of course you have no idea what I'm on about!" You growl angrily and push yourself away from him. "All you know is how to twirl your sword and your penis and nothing else! I sleep in my old chambers tonight!" You scream furiously at him and leave the dungeon like a fury, slamming the grate behind you with such force that the right one falls off its hinges.

Feyd makes a note to check the state of his dungeons and thanks himself for having the prudence to pick the dagger out of your hand earlier. Now he knows damn well what it's like to be on the verge of life and death. And being on the other side of his treatment, he doesn't like it at all. Especially since his pregnant wife had bigger mood swings than him.

"Marital quarrel. You understand, right?" He says to the barely conscious man and ends his suffering by killing him on the spot. After all, he couldn't let anyone witness his little fight with his wife.

Unfortunately, this is not enough to calm his anger.

He moves on to the next prisoner, completely ignoring the knowing, discouraged glances the guards exchange. They're going to have a hell of a lot of cleaning up to do today after their Baron and Baroness visits.

Feyd tossed and turned over again. His large bed with its black velvet sheets was mocking him with how lonely and cold he felt without the familiar warmth of your body next to him.

Just a few months ago, he didn't even know what it was like to have you in his bed and in his arms every night. He didn't care about something like sleeping in his bed; he only considered it an interruption, something annoying that took him away from his training. And with you... he wanted every little second of a nap with you in his arms.

Damn. He was a Harkonnen. A fucking killing machine, he wouldn't let something as shallow as...

His thoughts are interrupted by the quiet opening of the door. He closes his eyes, pretending to sleep, and moves his hand under the pillow, gripping tightly the hilt of a hidden dagger (yours, ironically).

"Leave it, or you'll accidentally hurt me or worse, our children, and then I'll really start a civil war with you." You snap at him, both irritating him and calming his racing thoughts.

He opens one eye and checks the hour. 2:58. You should have been asleep by now in your condition. It wasn't healthy for you or your children.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this late visit? Is there something wrong with your rooms?" He allows himself to mock you, embittered by your childish behaviour, and sits down to get a better look at you.

Your hair is dishevelled—a clear indication that you couldn't sleep either, and the hastily thrown-on robe over your nightgown gives him a beautiful view of your figure and the slightly rounded curve of your belly. A strange warmth blooms in his chest at the sight, making him almost completely forget about your earlier unfounded outburst at him and that he should be mortally offended and angry at you.

"Move your ass."

"What?"

"You lie on my side."

Feyd snorts angrily, keeping up his indignant appearances while trying to hide the fact that before you came in, in his desperation he reached for your pillow, burying his nose in it in the hopes that the scent lingering on it would somehow lull him to sleep.

He shifts, raising his hairless eyebrows in surprise as you lie down next to him without a word. It is true that you growl something under your breath before pulling him roughly by his neck closer to you, but that's something Feyd was used to by now. He actually expected you to yell at him again. But you just bury your face in the crook of his neck and wrap your arms tightly around him, snuggling into him.

He lies still for a few minutes, then he hesitantly wraps his arms around you and rubs your back the way his mother used to do to calm him. An old, unwanted memory.

"What is that?" He dares to ask, but he doesn't let go of your grip. If anything, he presses a little closer to you. You were warm. And… cosy.

"Shut up. I need this." You mumble into his pearly skin and nuzzle his neck, burying your face deeper. He allows himself a small smile as you wrap your arms around his chest, clinging to him as he absentmindedly brushes through your hair.

"Why exactly?"

"I don't know. Fucking pregnancy hormones. So shut up so we can both sleep, or I'm going to start crying, and I promise you'll regret the day you put that thick, monstrous dick inside me." You growl madly, which leaves him completely confused about what you're on about or what exactly he did wrong this time.

"As you wish, my Baroness." He mumbles and presses his lips to your temple, making you purr in contentment and snuggle even closer to him.

He accepts your strange clinginess to him, though, more surprised by the fact that... he actually enjoys cuddling with you than by your mood swings.

"I like it a bit. This side of you."

"What? An aggressive cold bitch with mood swings?" You snort, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. He barely manages to keep from bursting out laughing at how accurately you described yourself. No one said you wouldn't reach under your pillow and commit an act of murder on him for such an insult.

"This is the version of you I've had every day since you stepped onto my goddamn ship. I meant more... that… that is... pleasant in a different way." His heart flutters faster when he feels your lips form a tiny smile against his skin at his words. He tightens his grip on you, making sure you’re covered tightly by the blanket.

"Whatever." You mumble dismissively, inhaling his scent. You intertwine your legs with his, pressing yourself as close to him as possible.

"You like it too." He teases you, delighting in the feeling of your heart beating gently against him.

"Feyd?"

"Hm?"

"Shut up." You shush him, to which he only mutters something under his breath and obediently falls silent. The feeling of guilt grows inside you, causing an unpleasant lump to form in your throat and tears to press to your eyes. Fucking pregnancy hormones.

It was probably the first time, with anyone, ever, that you were so... open about what you wanted, what you needed. And as good as it felt... there was still a little red lamp in the back of your head, a conviction trained over the years that you couldn't just let go of your barrier. But if not with him, then with whom else could you?

"I love you." You mumble against his skin and press a kiss to his neck, leaving a small mark there for your eyes only. He smiles a little and presses a kiss to your forehead, silently returning your gesture.

It wasn't the first time you'd "apologised" to each other in this way, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Just as it wouldn't be the first and last time you fell asleep cuddled up together, simply enjoying the other's closeness.

It's instinct. That's how Feyd tells himself when, during a meeting, he reaches over to his wife's side and rests his hand thoughtfully on her pregnant belly, stroking it gently.

It's instinct. That's what you tell yourself as, lost in thought while reading reports and listening to Rabban's words, you reach for the back of Feyd's head and begin to trace lazy patterns on his smooth skin.

You have been acting around each other in this way for several days now.

First, it started when Feyd decided to renovate the throne room, and he happened to start with your throne, which resulted in you landing on his lap for all sorts of meetings and audiences.

You thought it was just his typical prank, an excuse to hold you closer and enjoy the closeness of your body, but the next day during dinner, instead of sitting in his usual seat across from you, he chose to sit right next to you so he could keep his hand on your upper thigh or around you.

And you didn't remain passive to him. You also looked for various opportunities to lay your hands on him. And not at all with sexual overtones, which surprised you greatly.

You realised it this morning when you woke up for the first time in a long time with Feyd still in bed, and most importantly, cuddled up to you.

At first you thought he had overslept for his morning workout and that was why he was still cuddled up to you with his head against your belly, but the moment you felt his finger lazily stroking patterns on your side and found your hand in his tightening grip, you realised he had purposely skipped his morning workout to stay in bed with you.

"Are you sick?" You ask him in disbelief and let your free hand wander to the top of his bald head. You smooth your nails over his skin, not liking the way he lets out a quiet sigh at your caresses.

"Good morning to you too, woman." He mumbles against your skin, not even lifting his head to look at you.

"I'm deadly serious. Should I call a doctor? Have you gone mad? Am I supposed to rule Giedi Prime alone?"

You smirk as he rests his chin on your belly and gives you a hostile look. You decide to tease him even more and start tracing the lines of his eyebrows, his nose, his lips, and his jaw with your fingertip. He leans into your touch and purrs at the pleasant feeling of your soft skin.

"Unfortunately, I must curb your imperial ambitions. I am more than capable of ruling... for now. Unless my dear, cruel wife uses her skills that she learnt as my right hand to dethrone me, declaring our unborn children the rightful heirs to the throne and making herself regent."

"Nicely thought out. Do you want to retire?" He snorts in amusement at your question and shakes his head, not moving even an inch away from you.

"No, I am quite good right now." He mumbles and presses his lips to your belly. You smile, trying to hold back giggles as he tickles you, placing kisses along your baby bump.

It feels a little surreal. Being here with him, when he shows you such affectionate behaviour. Who would have thought a few months ago that you would find yourself in this moment? That from his right hand, his most trusted person, you would become his wife, the mother of his children, someone he simply adored.

Despite the many doubts and the series of unknowns that lay ahead on your path, you wouldn't trade your messed-up relationship for anything else in this world. Especially not when it felt so good to simply lie with his arms wrapped around you. And to think that at one time you would consider this a form of imprisonment for you...

"Fine. But only because I will still need you. Who would hold me and keep me warm at night if you left prematurely?"

"It's great to know you find useful uses for me, my Baroness."

"Very useful, I would dare to say, my Baron." You mumble, pulling him higher so you can plant a proper kiss on his lips.

You moan as he practices his skill in the way that drives you crazy, and you gladly grant his capable tongue access to your mouth. You wrap your arms around him, supporting yourself against him as you sit on your bed.

His broad, rough hands travel beneath the material of your nightgown, caressing the bare skin of your upper thigh as he removes the black silk material from your body.

Your hands travel to his pants, hastily pushing the material at his waist down his legs to finally...

"Can you stop for a minute?" Rabban's voice tears you from your memories of this morning.

You frown and try to understand what exactly he means, but Feyd takes over the situation and covers your ignorance by asking:

"What do you mean?"

"Touching... her like that. I thought it was supposed to be a serious political meeting."

Your head shoots to where Feyd's arm wraps around your waist so his hand can rest on your growing baby bump. His other hand—the one with the wedding ring and Baron's signet ring—rests securely on yours as he plays with your own rings. You blush slightly and are about to squirm out of his grip when Feyd tightens it around you, making it nearly impossible. You look up at him, almost sighing when you see his eyes crinkle at his brother.

"If it was supposed to be that serious political meeting, then we wouldn't invite you, brother."

"Feyd." You scold him quietly, but he doesn't take his watchful gaze off his brother.

Instead, he moves his hand to your thigh and squeezes it tightly, sending an involuntary shiver of arousal through you. In an instant, a thousand other uses for his large hand and thick fingers run through your mind, as well as the chair he was currently sitting on. Or the table in front of you. The floor. The walls. The windows... fucking pregnancy hormones.

"I just say that you could keep your hands off your whore for a while."

And after these words, you already know that a very cruel murder will take place here.

You watch Feyd carefully, ignoring Rabban's wide eyes of fear and surprise as he realises what has slipped through his lips. Your husband... wears the most calm expression his subjects have ever seen. But you know him too well. You see the glint of cruelty in his eyes, the exact moment when your reasonably rational Feyd leaves the scene and gives way to his innate, brutal Harkonnen nature.

Once, when you were still his right hand, it would have meant a lot of cleaning up after him and organising something for him to do to keep his restless mind occupied, to cool his raging blood—a whore(s), a prisoner to torture, a particularly intense sparring session, whatever.

Now, as his wife, it mostly meant entertaining displays of his cruelty to watch... which occasionally ended in an incredible fuck. And given your raging hormones and the way he dug his fingers into your thigh, you would have preferred to skip straight to the second one without watching your husband smear his brother's insides all over the floor.

But apparently your husband had other plans.

In an instant he's leaping, fucking leaping, the length of the table to get to his brother. After a rather brief and pathetic scuffle and a few broken chairs, Rabban ends up defeated on the floor with Feyd pinning his head to the floor with his boot and twisting his right arm out of joint.

"Are you jealous or stupid? How dare you talk about your Baroness in such a way? Either you have a death wish or you really envy me that I have a wife that I can touch and caress whenever I want, and you can only count on your fist, right, brother? Apologise to her."

"It is not..."

"He will apologise." Feyd interrupts you before you can even finish your sentence, preventing you from even offering to forget his brother's "sins" against you. "On his knees. Kiss the chair she is sitting on. The future of House Harkonnen."

You can barely keep yourself from rolling your eyes at your husband's crazy diva behaviour. Rabban, scared to death, without smelling, puts his mouth to the legs of your chair. Feyd nods with satisfaction and lets go of his brother, who takes the opportunity and runs away, before his brother decides to chop off his limbs.

You sigh as the door clatters shut behind him, and you place your crown on the table.

"That was cruel." You comment, rubbing your hand over the back of your neck. The metal thing was getting heavier and heavier on your head with each passing day.

"It turns you on when I'm cruel." He shrugs at you and walks over to you.

You groan as he stands behind you and begins to massage the aching muscles in your shoulders and neck. You lean into him and bite your lower lip, trying not to flatter him like that. You were still mad at him. It only took you a few seconds to remember why.

"Not to your brother."

"And why not?"

"Because... that's a bad example for our children."

"How fortunate that they are not here yet to witness my outrageous behaviour." He mocks you and pulls away. You want to snap at him angrily, but he suddenly reaches over and places his hands under your knees. You gasp when he suddenly lifts you up and sits you on his lap.

"But they can hear it. You wish they would treat each other the way you and Rabban do?" You continue, trying to ignore his dilated pupils and the glint in his eyes that only meant one thing. Trouble.

He gives you a small smile and lazily tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning down to press his lips to your neck. Bastard, you think as you try to control your shaking legs as he slowly strokes your bare ankle.

"You know perfectly well that this is entirely something else. Besides, who will forbid me to keep my hands on my wife, my baroness, the mother of my children, my right hand, my little witch?" He whispers into your skin, leaving a hickey on your skin with every nickname/role he utters.

"You're clingy." You gasp, squirming in his lap, trying to find a more comfortable position as he practically pulls you into him. And it feels so fucking good. You have no idea how or when the two of you got back to the can't-keep-your-hands-off-you stage, but you loved it.

"It's my wife's fault. She raised a monster." You smile at his teasing and nibble on his earlobe. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, his face buried in your cleavage as he tirelessly kisses every inch of your skin.

"A real monster, isn't it?" You ask, grinding against his crotch to prove your point. He can’t help but let out a raspy chuckle as you also gently stroke the back of his head.

"It's true… So what are you going to do about it?" He growls against your skin, cupping your collarbone gently. You sigh, digging your finger into the skin of his scalp and pressing your lips to the tip of his head.

"Oh, should I do something?"

"It would be appropriate." He nods, pushing the material of your dress aside with his chin to begin peppering kisses across your sensitive breasts.

"Since when did we do anything that was ever considered appropriate, my Baron?" You snicker at him as his hands go to the fastening of your dress.

"There's always a first time…"

"I'd boldly assume that neither of us has any more first times to tick off." You interrupt him with a mocking smile as he slides the material of your dress off your shoulders.

“No, that’s not true.” He mumbles, blowing warm air onto your nipples. You bite your lower lip to hold back a small moan and close your eyes, looking up at him from under your lashes. “I don’t remember ever doing this on this chair with you. Or anyone…”

"Unbelievable. I guess we need to change that."

"Very quickly." He nods eagerly and makes some room for you to place your hands on the waistband of his pants. Of course, still holding you in his tight embrace and not withdrawing his face from the valley between your breasts.

You unbutton his pants and wrap your hand around his cock. He doesn't need much preparation, already eager and ready for you, but you love hearing him pant with anticipation and frustration as you prolong the inevitable. You straddle him and position yourself above him, slowly lowering yourself onto him.

Even though you had done this countless times before, you doubted you could ever get used to it. The way he stretched you, the way he filled you so deliciously and perfectly, was simply indescribable, and you doubted anyone else before him had fit you so perfectly, had fulfilled all your inner needs and desires… or to be as fucked up as you.

Slightly irritated by his lack of movement, you lift your hips, prepared to ride him, when he suddenly squeezes your side tightly and settles you back down on his cock. You whine in protest, but he silences you with a lazy kiss, the pads of his fingers gently tracing circles on your bare back.

"Don't move."

"But..."

"I told you something, woman." He growls in your ear, sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. You wince, trying to keep yourself steady against him, but with every breath you take, you feel him more and more inside you. And it's incredibly difficult to stay still under these circumstances. "Do. Not. Move." He warns you, staining your arm with new marks with every breathless word.

You knew from the way his cock twitched inside you that keeping still was as much of a task for him as it was for you. It was little comfort to your desperate need for him, but it was some kind of comfort. At least you had the satisfaction of knowing you were both suffering.

But over time you began to understand why he suddenly insisted that you warm his cock. It felt so... nice. Him buried safely deep inside you, his arms around you and his mouth on your neck, his breath hitting your skin, his scent and warmth around you. It was like... a safe cocoon.

You almost snort thinking about how ridiculous it is to equate him with safety.

But right now, on his lap, as you stroked his shoulders, his neck, his head, his cheeks, and his lips with your fingertips, feeling him beneath you, inside you, and around you in such a vulnerable, passionate, and tender position... your heart beat a little faster.

"Feyd..." You mumble into his skin as he presses his nose to your neck and inhales your scent, inhaling it like some kind of the best drug.

Is it possible to be addicted to another person? Probably not. But you don't know how else to explain the tingling and buzzing in your head and the euphoria of being so close to him.

If love was a drug, then you never wanted to be clean again. No. You wanted to be tainted by it, soaked to the core, able to reduce him to the same quivering mess he reduced you to with the slightest touch of your skin against his.

Just a few months ago, such a thought would have caused you great anxiety. Now, it was an exciting challenge. What a bloody long way you've come.

"Y/N..." He groans, his hips bucking slightly, making him push himself even further into you. You moan, digging your nails into his shoulders, feeling his length deliciously poke through your walls.

"I know. I know." You mumble tearfully and stroke the back of his head, pulling him closer to your bruising, needy kiss, as if lamenting the fact that you can’t get any closer to him than you've already been.

He slowly thrusts into you, watching your every tiny reaction to his thrusts. All you can do is hold on for dear life, pulling him closer and closer, encouraging him to sink his night-black teeth into your skin as you leave bloody scratches across his arms and back.

You yank at his clothes, ripping his shirt and exposing his chest to you. Your mouth travels along his neck, worshipping every scar, every muscle, every perfect blemish on his body that years of training in war and combat have left—the living mark of being the Harkonnen heir.

You moan loudly as his thrusts intensify. He tightens his fingers on your hips, probably leaving a few bruises there, but all that mattered now was how wonderfully he was pounding into you from below, his chest rubbing against yours as he held you tightly against him, practically encouraging you to collapse onto him and cuddle up to him as he fucked your brains out.

It's humiliating how little it takes for you to come. After a few more thrusts, you're a moaning mess, a mass of bones and muscle you can't control, giving yourself over to him completely as the world around you turns white as his skin, screaming his name.

Your chin falls onto his shoulder; you are wrapping your arms tightly around him and letting him use you however he wants as you come down from your orgasm haze, appreciating the way his cock, wet from your cum, digs a spot inside you for release.

Feyd grunts, his thrusts becoming jerky as he presses his nose to your temple and sucks on the sensitive spot behind your ear, coming buried deep inside you. You shudder as his thick, sticky seed floods your already full womb and spills between the two of you, sealing you together.

You both breathe deeply and shakily, clinging desperately to the other, holding on to the other's body for dear life and not daring to move an inch as you appreciate the other's intimate closeness.

This was... completely different from your usual fucks. Usually it was raw passion, teeth and claws, desperate pursuit of orgasm, and finding pleasure in the other, but here... this was about closeness. A real sense of another person. You shiver as you feel something wet land on your shoulder. Your heart stops a little when you realise it's a tear. His tear.

Neither of you comment on this. You don't have to. You don't want to. You know how raw and vulnerable this moment is for the two of you. What you just did was really meant.

And you dare assume that this is the first time you've actually, truly gotten closer to each other. In a much more meaningful and deeper way than you've ever dared to think you could with anyone.

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #feyd x you #feyd rautha smut #feyd supremacy #feyd oneshot #feyd smut #oneshot #dune #house harkonnen #feyd rautha x y/n #fluff and smut #fluff and romance #fluff and feels #violence

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goshikisbaee · 1 day ago

Text

Spending Valentine’s Day With Haikyuu Characters (part 2)

content: Fluff

[ Atsumu, Osamu, Kita, Hoshiumi, Sakusa ]

———

ATSUMU MIYA

Valentine’s Day with Atsumu is equal parts romantic and chaotic. You wake up to a voice message instead of a text—“Mornin’, sweetheart! Hope yer ready for the best Valentine’s Day ever.” —followed by another message: “PS: I got ya something. Hope ya like it.”

When he picks you up, he’s got a smug grin and a ridiculous amount of confidence. “Look at ya, lookin’ all pretty for me,” he teases, handing you a wrapped box. Inside? Something sweet—maybe jewelry, maybe a plushie—but knowing him, it’s something he absolutely bragged about picking out. “Knew ya’d love it. I got good taste.”

Dinner is at a fancy restaurent (because of course he wants to spoil you), and he spends half the time flirting shamelessly and the other half showing off. “D’ya see the way the waiter looked at us? Yeah, they know we’re the best looking couple here.”

But beneath all the cocky teasing, there’s so much love in his eyes. At some point, he reaches across the table and grabs your hand, rubbing small circles against your skin. “I know I joke around a lot, but… I mean it when I say yer the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

At the end of the night, he pulls you close, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Happy Valentine’s Day babe. Hope ya didn’t think this was a one-time thing—yer stuck with me forever.” And with that, he kisses you senseless.

OSAMU MIYA

Valentine’s Day with Osamu is effortlessly sweet—he’s not flashy like his brother, but everything he does feels natural and full of warmth. You wake up to a simple text: “Happy Valentine’s, darlin’. Don’t make plans. I got ya covered.”

When he picks you up, he hands you a neatly packed bento box. “Made it myself,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal—but when you open it, it’s perfectly arranged with all your favorites. There’s even a tiny note tucked inside: “Eat up. Don’t want ya starvin’ on our date.”

Instead of a crowded restaurant, he takes you somewhere cozy—a quiet picnic, a drive to a scenic overlook, or even just a lazy day in, watching movies with homemade food. He’s the type to pull you close while you eat, resting his chin on your head like it’s second nature.

At some point, he just looks at you, soft and thoughtful. “Kinda crazy, huh?” he murmurs, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Never thought I’d be the type to get all sappy over a day like this.” Then, with a small grin, he adds, “Guess ya got me wrapped around your finger, huh?”

Before you part ways, he pulls you in for a slow, lingering kiss and murmurs against your lips, “Happy Valentine’s, sweetheart. Hope ya know I plan on spoilin’ ya like this every year.”

SHINSUKE KITA

Valentine’s Day with Kita is quiet, steady, and deeply thoughtful. He’s not one for over-the-top gestures, but everything he does is filled with intention. You wake up to a simple text: “Happy Valentine’s Day. Be ready at 5.” No unnecessary fluff—just a promise.

When he picks you up, he hands you a neatly wrapped gift, something practical yet meaningful—maybe a high-quality scarf because “it’s gettin’ colder, and I don’t want ya catchin’ a cold.” He won’t admit how long he spent picking it out, but the slight pink dusting his ears gives him away.

Your date is simple yet perfect—he takes you to a quiet countryside café, where the conversation is easy, and the atmosphere is peaceful. He listens intently to everything you say, nodding occasionally as he sips his tea. When you tease him about not being overly romantic, he just hums, setting his cup down.

“I don’t need fancy words or big gestures to show ya how much I care,” he says, looking at you with calm certainty. “I’d rather prove it, every day, in the little things.”

At the end of the night, he walks you home, his hand resting securely on your lower back. Before you go, he tilts your chin up gently and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Happy Valentine’s, darlin’,” he murmurs. “I hope ya know—you’ll always have my heart.”

KORAI HOSHIUMI

Valentine’s Day with Hoshiumi Korei is full of charm and excitement. You wake up to a text that’s as energetic and lively as he is: “Happy Valentine’s Day!! Hope you’re ready for an amazing day because I’m definitely ready!!” His enthusiasm is infectious, and you can’t help but feel excited for the day ahead.

When he picks you up, he’s grinning from ear to ear, practically bouncing with energy. He hands you a gift that’s quirky and fun—maybe a little plushie or something that reflects his playful side. “I thought this was perfect for you!” he says, looking proud of his choice. He’s always got a way of making even the smallest gifts feel special.

The day is filled with adventure, and he’s all about making things fun. Whether it’s going to a lively spot in the city, trying out something new together, or just being spontaneous, he makes sure every moment is filled with excitement. His infectious energy and constant jokes keep you laughing all day. You can tell he’s enjoying every second, and his bright smile only makes everything feel that much better.

Dinner is at a place that matches his upbeat personality—something vibrant, with lots of good food and laughter. He insists on ordering something extravagant, just because he wants to make sure the day feels memorable. “I’m treating you to the best tonight!” he says, even though you’re just happy to be there with him.

As the day winds down, he’s still full of energy but takes a quiet moment to look at you with that genuine, softer expression he doesn’t often show. “Thanks for making today so much fun,” he says, giving you a light kiss on the cheek. “I’m really glad I got to spend Valentine’s Day with you.”

KIYOOMI SAKUSA

Valentine’s Day with Sakusa is quiet, sincere, and unexpectedly thoughtful. You wake up to a message from him: “Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope it’s a good one.” Simple, to the point, but it makes you smile because you know it’s from the heart.

When he picks you up, he’s dressed impeccably, his usual cool, composed demeanor in full effect. He hands you a gift, carefully wrapped in sleek paper—nothing too extravagant, but clearly something he put thought into. “I thought you might like this,” he says, his voice calm but sincere. Inside, it’s something you’ve mentioned in passing, a small token that shows he listens and remembers the little details.

The day unfolds at a relaxed pace. You grab coffee at a quiet café where Sakusa doesn’t say much, but his presence is steady and comforting. He listens intently as you talk, giving you his full attention without the distractions of the outside world. There’s no need for grand gestures with him—his way of showing affection is through those small, meaningful moments.

As the day goes on, he keeps it simple, suggesting a walk through a park or a visit to a bookstore, where he’s content to simply be with you. You both enjoy the peace and quiet, just the two of you, no need for unnecessary words or attention. In these moments, you realize how much he values your presence.

As the night winds down, he quietly pulls you in for a hug, the usual distance between you two momentarily gone. “I’m glad we spent today together,” he murmurs. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” And with that, he gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, a quiet, genuine expression of affection that speaks volumes.

———

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq fluff #fluff #hoshiumi korai #miya atsumu #osamu miya #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #kita x reader #kita shinsuke

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infiniteeight8 · 2 days ago

Note

Stephen is desperate for Tony to love him back, to the point that he uses his knowledge of Tony to manipulate him into a relationship. (Potentially manipulates things so Tony and Pepper break up? Or this could be after that?) After all, he knows he'll treat Tony right, what does it matter how they get to this point. The ends justify the means, right?

I love this prompt so much. 😃 So much potential here. *rubs hands together*

This is a “they won on Titan” AU. So Pepper and Tony are, prior to this fic, engaged. I did a google for how long Pepper has known Tony and landed on almost 20 years, since she says she’s been curating his art collection for ten years in Iron Man 2 (2010) and Infinity War happens in 2018.

Stephen knows the instant Tony lands on the Sanctum’s doorstep. By the time the armor is retracted and the Sanctum’s doors have swung open for him, Stephen is already halfway down the stairs. Tony stalks into the foyer and the doors quickly close behind him. A protective gesture, Stephen’s connection to the Sanctum tells him. “Tony. Is everything okay?”

“The wedding’s off,” Tony says shortly. He starts pacing.

Stephen’s heart lifts. “I’m sorry,” he says carefully.

Tony snorts. “Don’t be. I’m the one who called it off. Pepper’s probably still trying to call me.”

“What happened?” Stephen positions himself so that Tony will pass close to him on his traverses of the foyer, but doesn’t try to stop him.

“I took your advice,” Tony says, “and talked to Pepper about DUM-E and U. About what they would need if something happened to me.”

“I take it that didn’t go well.” It never had in any of the futures Stephen had seen.

“Understatement of the year.” Tony raises his hands and scrubs them through his hair. “Pepper has known me for nearly twenty years. She was around when DUM-E literally saved my life! She’s known him and U almost as long. How can she not get it? How did I not realize that she doesn’t get it?”

“If you explained—”

“No,” Tony cuts him off, as Stephen knew he would. There’s a line to tread here; Stephen can’t risk making Tony feel defensive of Pepper. “If she doesn’t get it after all this time, she never will. And frankly, after what she said, I’m not interested in giving her the chance.”

Stephen winces. “That bad?”

Tony stops pacing and turns to face Stephen. “She said, and I quote, “Tony, I know you’re attached to these things, but this is really too far. They’re machines, not children.’”

Stephen lets himself look as appalled as he feels. That was one of the more extreme options. “She called them things?”

Tony barks a harsh laugh. “Yeah. And when I told her that I made them and they have thoughts and personalities of their own and that as far as I’m concerned that does make them my kids, she asked if I’d thought about having real kids. Like we weren’t even talking about the bots anymore, like that conversation was over.”

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Stephen says gently. “I can’t imagine how anyone could meet either DUM-E or U and not understand that they’re people.”

“Me neither,” Tony deflates. “But I’m starting to think that you and I are two of a kind there. I mean, did the other wizards recognize Levi?” Tony waggles his fingers in belated greeting and Levi waved a corner at him.

“The Ancient One once called Levi ‘fickle’,” Stephen says dryly.

“Yeah, no, she clearly didn’t understand them at all,” Tony agrees. He sighs and takes a heavy seat on the Sanctum’s steps. “I thought I was finally going to get my happily ever after, you know?”

Stephen sits beside him. “Would the kind of white picket fence life that Pepper wanted really have made you happy?” he asks. It actually had, in some of those futures. But Tony could be just as happy, often happier, living a different life with Stephen.

“I don’t know,” Tony says. “But I was willing to try.”

Levi flares out and wraps around Tony’s shoulders, giving him a kind of hug where Stephen can’t, not quite yet. And if the action pulls Tony against Stephen for a moment or two, well, so much the better. Levi has been on board with Stephen’s plan from the beginning.

Tony laughs and pats the fold of cloak curled around him. “Thanks, Levi.” He turns to Stephen, almost close enough to kiss. They aren’t there yet, but Stephen can’t help thinking about it. Tony goes on, oblivious. “Want to come hang out with the bots with me? I’m feeling the need for some quality time.”

Stephen smiles. “I’d love to.”

Everything is going exactly as planned.

#IronStrange #ficlet

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cravingrickgrimes · 1 day ago

Text

𝞋𝞎 ─────── “Firsts”

pairing: rick grimes x male reader

summary: before the apocalypse, you never got to do anything with anyone. so you took the end of the world as a good sign you should probably do that already. you knew what the bar was known for, a gay sex establishment, yet you went anyway.

warnings: asshole rick, one night stand, southern accent, rough rick, heavy smut, descriptive, rushed

word count: 1.5 k

To say i was out of my element going to the only place in the entire commune known for being a gay sex worker establishment was an understatement. I had never been with a man, partly because when the apocalypse came by men weren’t allowed to be with other men. Since then the rules have relaxed a bit. I doubt it’s because bigoted people had all been killed, i’m not that dumb, it’s just that people have other things to worry about than gay people. If the apocalypse was all it took for me to get some dick i would have done it years ago.

Pushing open the double doors, a bell rung above my head that drew almost everyone’s gaze to me. Great. I moved my face to anything that didn’t have a pair of eyes and wasn’t goggling at me. They met a back tightly wrapped in a beige shirt, the man wore a dark brown hat that curved peculiarly. Deciding that my best option would be to sit next to the person who had no interest in me, i called up the bartender and got myself a drink quicker than i could take another breath in this stuffy place. I half expected the man i had sat next to ignore me entirely. I was completely wrong however when he shot me a tight smile accompanied by a tight nod. “Howdy.” The interaction was nothing but polite. I met his gaze as soon as he spoke to me and nearly fell out of my seat once i saw his face.

His eyes, the colour of an ocean in the middle of a storm, drew me in and wouldn’t pull back until i greeted him back. “Hi.” I wasn’t as southern as him and saying ‘Howdy’ back to him felt like a mock. He had a freshly shaven beard that he must have liked the look off because he didn’t dare shave it all off. The facial hair around his chin had turned an icy white not dissimilar from his gaze.

Just as quickly as he greeted me, he turned his eyes back to their regular spot on the rim of his beer glass. I knew what i was doing going there, i wanted rid of my virginity. Right as i saw that man i knew i wanted it to be him and only him. I wanted him to be my first. Problem was i had no idea how to strike up a conversation with a man who wanted nothing to do with me. Instead, i directed my attention towards the bathroom and darted before the beer i had downed came out in my jeans.

After i had thankfully reached the urinal, i pulled my cock out and felt a rush of relaxation as i emptied myself. I threw my head back; squeezing my eyes shut and biting back a groan from the feeling. I was so enthralled by it in fact that i didn’t realise someone had came into the bathroom with me. When i opened my eyes again i saw who exactly had come next to me. The man with the southern drawl was right next to me again. Though this time, his 5 inch soft cock was out and pissing into the urinal beside me. I stared at his member through the corner of my eye and didn’t dare look away.

“Like what ya see or somethin’?” The only thing that tore me from his cock was that beautiful accent. I had realised what i had done the moment i was out of the mesmerising trance. I flushed instantly.

“I’m so sorry! I—didn’t mean, no i don’t. Well it’s nice! It’s beautiful but…”

“Beautiful?” That garnered a grin from the man that so far had been anything but happy. I’d describe him as grumpy. “Ya think my cocks beautiful darlin’?”

I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea from me, but i didn’t want to lie. “Of course it is,” I chuckled. “i mean…look at it!” He tilted his head to his dick in his hands like he had never noticed it was there before. But instead of giving a sly remark of saying anything else, he just began pumping his cock with his veiny right hand.

“What’re you doing?” I tried to back up but my spine collided with a wall. He moved closer toward me. Apparently my heart couldn’t tell the difference between this man and being in a life threatening position because it just wouldn’t stop beating.

“We all come to this bar for the same reason. I don’t like asking for sex, i let them come to me.” He winked. “You did just that darlin’” He pulled his jeans down to his ankles and, with a belt in his left hand, now stroked even faster. “C’mon. You ain’t never had anyone like me before.” A pause. “Have ya?”

I shook my head, mostly because i thought this was a sick and cruel wet dream my mind was conjuring. “No, i’ve never had anyone.”

“No one?”

“None.”

A strange feeling of pride rushed through me when he laughed once more. I had the feeling he didn’t laugh much, and i made him laugh twice. “That’s odd. A beauty like you would have been tore through in the old world. At least, that’s what would happen if i’d gotten my hands on you.”

The way he objectified me should have angered me beyond return. But it was his beautiful body that was now being revealed with each button he broke off, he took his hand off his cock and dropped the belt to do so. “So, am i gon’ be your first or what?”

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he looked this good and got to get away with his rude comments because of that fact only. It wasn’t fair that any one of the distasteful words that came out of his mouth were soothed smoothly over by that thick southern accent. It wasn’t fair that i obliged his offer and got on my knees and stared up at the cock above me.

“It’s bigger than ya face, darlin’” He grinned from above me pushing his cock into my face. I smiled back at him because i enjoyed the look of his happiness—for some odd reason.

I took one last look at his cock in all its glory before grabbing it roughly with my left hand and slid it sloppily into my mouth. I made sure that none of my teeth hit his penis. With a thing like that, i didn’t want him feeling any pain or discomfort. I had the odd sensation of giving him pleasure and only pleasure. Once i took his nice rosy pink head in my mouth, i felt my own dick grow slowly in small increments the more i took into my mouth.

“You’re a god sent.” He moaned from above me, which only motivated me to do even better. I tried to take half of his manhood in my mouth but gagged and pulled off him leaving a trail of spit connecting me and his beautiful cock. “Oh c’mon. You can take it.” I enjoyed his faith in me so much that i tried once more this time forcing it down my throat and letting it pulse fully in my mouth. “Fuck baby.” I left myself there, nose buried in his pubes, for as long as i could. He jolted his cock in my mouth and made me acutely aware that it was stuffed down my throat. I gagged it up that instant.

I made up for my gag reflex by fondling his balls with his dick a couple inches in my mouth. His balls were as freshly shaven as his beard, stubble lining his huge ballsack. He seemed to like my new technique as he snaked a hand through my hair and gripped harder than i thought he was capable of. Tears snuck into my eyes as he forced me deeper than i could go. I looked up at him with pleas in my eyes, but, he preferred the feeling of my youthful mouth rather than my wellbeing. I couldn’t blame him, i preferred his cock over his personality.

He let go after a few seconds of me slapping his muscly, hairy thighs that lead to an even hairier body above them. He had a dark trail of curly hair below his naval leading toward his small amount kept pubes. His chest was an entirely different thing however, it seemed like he let his chest do whatever it wanted to. Almost his full chest was dusted in dark brown hairs that made me want to explore his body even further than i already had.

He ran a hand through his disheveled wavy hair revealing an armpit that was even less kept than his chest. “Last stretch darlin’” Without warning, he grabbed both of his hands and forced his thick, uncut, veiny dick to the very back of my throat. My eyes widened by his sudden need to asphyxiate me. “Just sit there and be good for a minute, ‘k?” I had no choice but to stare up at his god-like body with awe as he shot his seed into my sore throat. Weirdly enough, it soothed me more than i could have imagined. It was as if i had gotten drugged by his semen. That was it. That was my first.

#bottom reader #fanfiction #gay #male reader #rick grimes #rick grimes fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd smut #gay rick grimes #one night stand #heavy smut #large size

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cillianmurphysdimples · 9 hours ago

Text

A female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Thirty Three)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Thirty Three: Cillian and Y/N prepare to tell his sons and ex-wife about their pregnancy. It both goes better and worse than Y/N had anticipated. [Angst/Anxiety]

@borntodiemp3 @strangeions @watermeezer @meadowshelby @lavender-haze-01 @cherry-cilly @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme

NOT PROOFREAD - APOLOGIES FOR THE TYPOS

--------

“Cill?” You yell, crouched before the washing machine as it gushes water around your bare feet. “Cill! Fucking help me!” You call out louder, craning your neck around the laundry room door frame. You spot him walking towards you, finally, and feel a little bad as you realise he must have been upstairs. “Love, help…” you moan comically. “There's water pissing out of the door, and I can't get it open.”

“Ah, jays…” Cillian stops at the door, grimacing as his socked feet splash into the warm soapy water, and he looks at you with a horrified expression. “What am I, a plumber?” He tuts. “Was there something stuck in the door?”

“I don't know,” you groan as you attempt once again to pull the door open. Sighing, you look back up at him again. “I think it's fucked. What do we do?”

He smirks, “Call someone who knows what to do.” He shrugs. “I'll get on Google, see if I can find someone local. Leave it for now, I'll get some towels down and we'll just see if anyone can sort it “ he leans in the door as he pulls off his wet socks and then throws them into the laundry box. “Hold on til I get the towels.” He turns and disappears, and you hear him jog up the stairs as you slowly rise up off your toes to stand straight.

You step over the door, and shake the drips off your foot before you place it down in the kitchen, then repeat the same with the other foot. You're still wet, obviously, but at least the floor is drier in the kitchen. You turn your head over your shoulder as Cillian returns with his arms loaded with bath towels. He isn't strategic at all as he drops the entire pile down before the washing machine and nods, proud of his work. “At least you could have laid them out better, you knob.” You shake your head, but the grin he gives you makes you laugh. “Your navy jumper is in there,” you tell him. “It's going to end up ruined.”

“Ah, it'll get sorted,” he says, calm about the entire disaster. He turns to you and pulls you in against him, arms wrapped around your back. He rests his cheek on your head and grumbles softly. Of course this had to happen today, with Yvonne and the boys due in a couple of hours and your anxiety already over the hilt. “Relax,” he whispers, as if sensing your internal discord. “It's just water. It's a lot of water, but it's just water.”

“At least I know what face you'll pull if my waters break on your feet.” You tease, and he laughs cheerfully at the joke.

He shifts his arms and cups both hands around your face. Holding you tightly, he kisses the tip of your nose and then your lips softly. “It's just fucking water.” He says, raising his eyebrows and looking squarely into your eyes. He kisses you again, and you wrap your arms around his back, kneading your hands against the material of his black zip-through hoodie. You apply pressure to the kiss, and love that he gives it back immediately. But as much as this immediately sparks pleasurable throbbing between your legs, you can't bring yourself to insist on shagging on the counter tops with the impending arrivals of his ex wife and sons.

You pull your face back and smirk at the groan he gives. “We're supposed to be making dinner for everyone.”

“Just a quickie…” he raises his eyebrows.

You shake your head. “Later.”

He scoffs, “I don't think I'll get the horn for a month after this conversation.” He sighs and runs his hands up and down your sides.

“Do we know if Aran said anything after we talked before?” You ask, nervous for the answer.

Cillian shook his head, “Ah no, I'm sure I'd have had calls and texts if that happened.” He raises his eyebrows. “I'm just getting second thoughts about doing this here. Not the boys, like, but Yvonne. She's bound to be…reactive.” He says diplomatically.

“The boys will react too,” you say softly. “We have to let them.”

He scoffs a little, “Why?” Then laughs. You sympathise - you're so anxious you're sure you're vibrating - but you know it has to happen. He kisses you softly again then taps his hands against you before he lets his arms drop down. “Let me try and get someone for this fucking washer, and we'll sort the dinner.”

You pull open the front door and try your best not to look like you've just retched yourself inside out over the kitchen sink. “Hi guys,” you push a smile quickly into your cheeks. “Come in, come in.” You step back, “It's freezing.” Malachy steps through with a cheerful hello, followed by Aran, with Yvonne smiling politely behind him. “Cill's in the kitchen, finishing off dinner.” You say as you close the door, then gesture with your left hand as they all strip off their coats. “Here,” you hold out your hand to Yvonne for her coat. “I'll pop it under the stairs.”

“Thanks,” Yvonne gives another polite smile.

“Kitchen, yeah?” Malachy asks, walking on.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You call back as you hang Yvonne's coat up. When you turn around, the three of them are already gone. You catch up behind them to choruses of hellos and small greetings. You linger awkwardly beside the kettle as the boys and Yvonne take stools at the island. There's an atmosphere of unease, of course, but Cillian split immediately into comfortable chat with the boys, and surprisingly with Yvonne too.

“I was half expecting Adam,” Cillian says, his back to them as he pokes at the saucepan on the cooker before he turns back to face them. “He'd have been welcome.” He says. You wonder how true that is.

“He had to work over in Drogheda so he won't be back until tomorrow.” Yvonne explains. “So you're back now indefinitely?” She asks him.

“Til I've the next job,” he nods with a smile. “I've a few obligations here in the new year anyway, so I don't think I'll be going too far.” He looks at you briefly and you smile. Both Yvonne and Aran, in their seats, have their backs to you. You know it is purely down to seating, but your anxiety has a field day over that being intentional. “And you've a week left at school now before Christmas?” He asks Aran.

Aran nods his head. “Then exams out my ears.”

“And you're finished already?” He grins at Malachy.

“Yeah - picking up more hours at work, seeing Aoife. I'm keeping busy.” He smirks and Cillian laughs.

“Drink, anyone?” You offer, and you wonder why your voice has come out sounding so strangled.

Yvonne turns on the stool, “Tea would be good. Green tea if you have it?*

Your stomach drops and you can see Cillian both want to laugh and stifle cringe. You can't even bear the smell of it in the house right now. “Oh, sorry, Cill had the last teabag this morning.” You lie as coolly as you can. “We have peppermint, or camomile.” You offer. “Or just straight tea.” You smile nervously.

“Camomile is great, thanks.” Yvonne smiles politely once again. She's trying, you notice, to not make this unusual visit awkward. You need to try to - at least until the news is broken.

“Yeah, no problem. Boys?” You call out, turning to flip the switch on the kettle. “Those waters and all are in the fridge, or there's a couple of beers. Or Coke.” You reel off.

“Dad?” Malachy jumps down from his stool, “We getting you so pissed you can't take your…slippers off, or so that you sleep on them?” He teases as he opens the fridge door.

“We are in your arse!” Cillian laughs, his back once again turned to them as he tends to the last few parts of dinner.

It's clear Yvonne doesn't get the joke, despite everyone else laughing, when you hand her her mug of tea. You feel for her a little - you're fairly sure she has plenty of inside jokes with the boys and Cillian that she could share and leave you on the outside. But you don't say anything to include her. You take a seat at the end of the island, planting yourself essentially between Yvonne and Malachy, but you can see clearly where Cillian is moving around and that line of sight makes you feel a little calmer. The room falls quiet, but for Cillian's tipping about, and you look around you nervously. The silence is worse than the awkward chatter, and you're desperate for Cillian to say something.

“What's your first exam, Aran?” You ask suddenly, and you feel ridiculously embarrassed when you find yourself almost shouting the question.

But Aran looks up and shrugs, “Erm…I have a list. I don't remember.”

You nod your head and stare up at Cillian's back, begging him to turn around and speak. “Nervous about them?” You ask, looking back at the young man.

He shrugs again, “Dunno.” there's an edge to his tone that you're sure you're picking up on, but you blame your anxiety for feeling it. But when Cillian turns around, his face is a little stern, and you feel a little validated for your feelings.

“Aran,” Cillian says quietly and walks towards the island. “Dinner’s done, why don't you go into the dining room?” He nods ahead of him. Yvonne and the boys stand in almost perfect unison, and you smile gently at Malachy as he passes behind you, tapping his hand on your shoulder as he goes.

You look at Cillian and while you know you can't be too vocal, you make a face that you hope he understands: I'm absolutely shitting myself and this feels awful. His eyes are soft as he sighs and walks towards you. He wraps his arms around you as you get off the stool and sighs heavily. “He still hates me,” you whisper.

“He doesn't.” Cillian says quietly. “He's probably just picking up that there's something going on. And knowing Aran he's probably fucking worked it out.” He releases you and kisses your forehead gently. “C'mon, let's plate up. You alright?”

You nod, “Yeah - so far it doesn't smell bad.” You laugh lightly.

“G'on,” he jerks his head, “Grab out the plates there and we'll face the music.”

The lightness of the meal surprises you, as Aran and Malachy tease their Dad, and Yvonne actually seems interested about your work. You realise you've never had any conversation beyond polite chatter before, and you feel a rush of conflict over what you know you have coming for her and the boys. You don't want to hurt them, of course you don't, but you're having a baby and you want to be happy with Cillian - and for that to happen, they need to know and they need to accept it. Only when everyone had laid down their cutlery did you and Cillian exchange knowing looks. You raise your eyebrows, and he gives a tiny, brief nod.

“Right,” he says, and clears his throat. “I know the three of youse probably thought it was off, getting youse all in for dinner.”

“Just assumed one of you is dying,” Malachy jokes, and you can't help smirking as he throws back his head - just like his Dad - and giggles loudly.

“Malachy, stop…” Yvonne tuts and shakes her head.

“I'm only messing,” he rolls his eyes, and you can see he's relieved to see you still smiling at his joke. Cillian, though, looks a little more pressured.

“Thanks for that, Mal.” Cillian says, but he does look amused I'm his torture. “No, neither of us is dying that we know of.”

“Dad…?” Aran raises his eyebrows, and you can see he's wondering if you're sharing the secrets he'd discovered as he sits across from you.

“Eh,” Cillian begins to stammer over his words. “Y/N and me talked to the two of you there a few weeks back and, eh, we cleared up some concerns or-or…misconstrued information. Yeah?”

Malachy looks at you, then at his Dad. “You're having a fucking kid?” He fixes his eyes on Cillian and you're not sure what his expression means.

Yvonne, on the other hand, is instantly readable. She looks shocked, as she looks at you and Cillian in turn, and you want the ground to open up and suck you in. “What?” Yvonne's eyebrows shoot quickly up her forehead.

Cillian sighs and he runs his tongue across his lips nervously. “Yeah,” he nods slowly. “Yeah, Y/N is pregnant.” He sighs again. “When we told you that wasn't the case, we were not lying. It's only early, and there's a scan booked there for January, but there were some pictures and an article and…I wanted it to come from us.”

“So you're telling us because someone else was going to?” Aran said, his eyes fixed firmly on his father.

Yvonne turns to her youngest, “Aran, you can't talk to your Dad like that.”

“Aran, I'm sorry. We would have been telling youse after the scan, but we didn't want you to get it from somewhere other than us. Other than me.” Cillian defends himself quickly, but you can see he has no comebacks to Aran's quip. “When we talked and I said we weren't expecting a baby, it wasn't a lie. This…it wasn't planned, but it's happening. And I wanted it to be me telling the three of you, not some random internet search throwing it out.”

“Keeping it?” Aran asks, and you shoot your eyes to Cillian.

“Of course,” Cillian replies and you can see his eyes silently begging his son not to do this.

“No choice, or…?” Aran turns down the corners of his mouth.

“Aran!” Yvonne scolds, but you can see the shock is still there on her face, and there's something else that you're sure is contempt.

“Aran, please,” Cillian holds out his hand, he's commanding of respect without raising his voice. You're not sure if he'll get said respect, but he's trying. “Didn't we talk about the fact that there has to be a point when I stop making my decisions based on you and Mal alone? Y/N is pregnant and I know it's a shock, it is for us, but it's happening. I want you to be able to talk to me about it, I care about how it affects you, but I need you both to be aware that this is happening regardless. There'll be a baby, and ye pair will need to be prepared for that.”

You feel panicked and shaken, and you want to run but you know you can't. You realise Malachy has been particularly quiet after being the one to work it all out. “Malachy?” You say gently, “Are you alright?”

You watch the young man shift in his seat. “I mean, I'm gonna be what? Twenty years older than my little brother or sister? And my Dad's nearly fifty and having another baby.” He sighs and you hear Cillian sigh loudly. “But it's your two’s life, not mine.” You can tell he's conflicted, but you hugely appreciate his words. “I mean, good luck and all I suppose.” Cillian looked at you with such a look of pride that you actually think you love him more, but it's twisted up with his concern over Aran's response, too.

“We didn't plan this, we'd almost certainly decided it wouldn't happen at all, but it has. We've been coming to terms with it ourselves and we know you have to, too. But like I said, it's happening. We're gonna have a baby, and it's not gonna be an easy change. Not for any of us.” Cillian speaks diplomatically and you hear the fears you know he has, those fears he talked about before. “But we wanted to talk to you ourselves. You too, Yvonne. Like, I owed you all that - it coming from us, and just you, before we told anyone else.” He sits quietly for a moment and you want to hold his hand but you don't move. “Aran, will you talk to me?” He says after a few moments. “I want you to think about it, and like I'll be here if you want to talk about it, but at the same time, pal, it's happening despite what you're feeling. I don't want you feeling badly, not at all, and I don't want youse thinking this is a replacement or a fucking…I don't know, like I'm starting over and forgetting about youse. It's not like that. But this is our family, Y/N and me and this baby, and you're part of it.”

Aran shrugs his shoulders and you feel bad that all eyes are on the boy. “And say what?” He asks.

Cillian turns down the corners of his mouth, “Well, how do you feel about it?”

“That you lied.” Aran says bluntly. “Again.” Your stomach drops.

“Aran, I…” Cillian falters.

“Suppose it's a bit better this time, though, isn't it?” Aran continues. “You told before you were found out.”

Yvonne's face warns you of her impending question before it's uttered. “What is he on about?” Cillian's mouth bobs open, and you can see the sheer panic on his face. Your stomach is turning over and you're sure his is, too.

“Smoking,” you say, suddenly. “He's been so worried over talking with you, and working, and I've been sick with it all… he's been smoking again. Aran had caught him with a cheeky cigarette on a video call.” You don't know if you'll regret the lie, but you're prepared to accept the consequences. You look across at Aran, and you hate yourself for pulling him into the deception. You know he has harsh feelings towards you anyway, so what's another? But to your relief - though you suspect only for his father - he accepts your silent begging of compliance.

“Yeah… he knows I wasn't happy about the smoking.” Aran says quietly.

“Oh, Cillian,” Yvonne rolls her eyes.

You can't work out Cillian's expression - you're not sure if he feels ‘saved by the bell’, or if he's going to rip you a new one for deflecting and lying. “Yeah, I know,” he says and runs his tongue around his mouth awkwardly. “Look,” he shifts in the chair. “The important thing here is that you two,” he gestures at each of his sons, “know that you can come and talk to me about this. It does matter to me what you're feeling here. But I also need you both to be grown up enough to accept that we're going to be having this wee one and that won't change.”

“We get it, Dad.” Malachy says quietly. “I'm not gonna throw you a party, but like I said, it's your life not mine.”

Aran sniffs, “Yeah. Same.” he sighs heavily.

“Well,” Yvonne clears her throat. “Congratulations then.” She says, matter of fact and clipped. She looks around her awkwardly, and you wonder if the ground opened for you if she might jump in, too.

“I'm sorry,” Cillian says after it falls silent. You frown - why's he sorry? “I know you're sitting here hurting now, and I'm sorry. But I'm not sorry that this baby is coming. I'm not.” You swallow awkwardly around a painful swelling in your throat. “Y/N and me have been together nearly four years, and we're happy. Sure, if you told me you and Adam were getting married or having a child, I'd be shocked too but like I'd be happy for you. And I know things fell apart, and people were hurt, and the two of ye have been in the middle. I'm sorry for that. But I'm not sorry that we're happy.”

“I get it, Dad.” Malachy repeats his earlier words, but he sounds softer, sad perhaps, and he nods his head slowly at his Dad. “Congratulations.”

You can see the flash of emotion across Cillian's face and it makes your eyes water. “Thanks, Malachy.”

“We really aren't trying to hurt you, Aran.” You say calmly, though your insides are anything but calm. He hates you entirely now, you're sure.

Aran raises his eyebrows at you and nods his head, “Yeah, maybe not. But…”

“But you're hurt anyway,” you say and he looks back at you without much reaction. “I know. I'm sorry. We knew when I found out that, after telling you I wasn't pregnant, it was going to look really bad.”

“It was something she was really worried about, Aran. One of her first fucking concerns was how it'd make you two feel.” Cillian says. “It was for both of us.”

Aran sighs noisily through his nose and you watch his share a look with his mother. “Okay.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. “So I'm not gonna be the youngest anymore.”

Cillian laughs, but it's awkward and self conscious. “No,” he sighs, smirking. “I suppose you're not.”

“God, he's gonna be a middle child.” Malachy groans, comedically, and you're so thankful for this boy it's unreal. Cillian laughs again, and it's forced and just as awkward, but the smile he lands on you after is small but genuine.

“Does anyone have anything to say?” Cillian asks, looking at everyone in turn.

Yvonne takes a deep breath, “I'm thankful you did it this way. And that you included me in it. Both of you.” Your heart beats wildly. You're not sure if you have just missed the fact that she's a reasonable person all of this time, or if she's just become resigned to the lives you all have now. You'd expected more, something harsher, and it overwhelms you that it doesn't come. “I hope you'll be really happy with the baby.”

You feel your eyes heating up as tears fill them. “Thank you.” You mumble, and get slowly to your feet. You won't cry here. “I'll, um, I'll start clearing the table…” you say, and grab yours and Cillian's plates as you walk away. You need to breathe, you need to think, and you feel so overwhelmed by the contrast of reception being both worse and better than you'd expected that you have no idea how to process it all. You know Cillian will want to follow, and you want him to, but you also know that right now it isn't about you.

#cillian murphy #my fic #my fic: we got issues #cillian murphy fanfiction #reader fic #y/n fic #female reader #female y/n #female y/n x Cillian Murphy #female reader x Cillian Murphy #reader x Cillian Murphy #y/n x Cillian Murphy

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roseyodditea · 22 hours ago

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totally love your work especially Lighter part then i saw u open the request, so.. if u don't mind or busy, may i request Lighter with a deaf and mute reader. Lighter, who has trouble communicating with them, decides to learn sign language but sometimes he messes up so the reader decides to teach him and as time goes by, the two become closer and you know how it ends, i imagine Lighter trying to express his feelings using sign language (but again he fails because he's too nervous). tysm 💕💕

This is based off of ASL since I am American. Also, please let me know if there are any mistakes! I don't know sign language and I'm not surrounded by people who do.

Just Give Me A Sign - Lighter x gn!Reader

Summary -> 1000 words (exactly!). Lighter's favorite nurse visits Blazewood, and he's trying to learn sign language. Warnings -> Brief moment of an injury (not in detail). A/N -> I think I'm so funny for that title. Also I made the reader a nurse. I know it wasn't in the request but I felt a draw to this storyline.

It was rare you had to make a trip all the way out to the Outer Ring for work. Normally the bikers had a pretty solid trade schedule and wouldn’t need to order emergency supplies, and even if they did Piper would drive the truck back and forth. Today was a special case, and Blazewood had been hit with a bacterial contamination in the well water, so you were hauling antibiotics from the clinic you worked at. You parked your car and shot a text to Ceaser, who immediately exited Cheesetopia and ran up to help you unload the supplies. You saw her lips moving very quickly and since you were distracted you couldn’t lip read entire sentences.

Lighter… back… Hollow… Her face then contorted to frustration and you saw her lips form “Lucy” and decided to not pay attention for the rest of her ramble. After six months of being the nurse contact between your clinic and Blazewood, you think they’d remember you’re deaf. You carry more boxes into the makeshift clinic, storing them properly so the town could start to recover before stepping back outside. Technically you could drive straight back to New Eridu, but you decide to enjoy some time here. Hey, you were getting paid, might as well stretch out the clock.

It was a beautiful day in Blazewood. Little wind so sand and tumbleweeds were at a standstill, a thin layer of clouds to dampen the scorching rays from the sun. You walk over to the random couch and sit, closing your eyes to simply enjoy the warmth as it seeped into your skin. You only bother to open your eyes when you feel a small tap on your shoulder. You open them to see Burnice standing above you, holding a glass. Oh no.

Instead of watching her trying to clumsily fingerspell ‘Nitro-Fuel’, she gestures to the lower level, signing out ‘help’. You follow her only to see a repeat patient sitting on an empty oil drum, his leather jacket and scarf laid across his lap, his chest scratched and bruised and bloodied, a particularly deep wound on his shoulder. She leaves you to him and you quickly grab your phone out of your pocket, typing out a message.

What now, Lighter?

Lighter glances over to the phone and shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his forearms with his fist’s balled. Fight. Of course that's a sign he knows. He didn’t learn any of the basic conversation signs, but he learned ‘Fight’ and most of the curse words.

You look at his shoulder and know it wouldn’t need stitches, but it would need to be patched up. You shoot him a frustrated look as you snap on your gloves, Lighter offering a sheepish smile. Your hands move quickly, practice. Lighter was a good patient, sitting still and only minorly twitching away from the antiseptic. You had his shoulder wrapped up tightly before you took off the gloves, typing something out on your phone before handing it to him.

Change the dressing daily. Rest.

Lighter nodded before thinking for a moment, his movements uncertain as he placed his hand on his chin, gesturing it downward to you before holding a hand palm out, tapping his fingers together on his wrist.

Thank you, Doctor

You shake your head, taking his hand and closing some of his fingers so only his pointer and middle finger are out, correcting him to sign ‘nurse’ instead of ‘doctor’ before bringing your fingers in the shape of a v up to your forehead, knowing he’d recognise ‘dumbass’. Much to your enjoyment, he looked a bit offended, but eventually smiled.

**********

With the waterborne illness still running through Blazewood, you came back a few days later to push IV fluids into the dehydrated, lending a hand to the Sons of Calydon when you could. Lucy and Lighter had joined you for a lunch break, Lucy being the only Sons of Calydon member who knew enough sign language to keep up in conversation with you. Lighter was in his own world, eyebrows furrowed tightly like he was deep in thought.

Lucy points to him, taps her chin, and then points to you. He missed you. You smile and look over to the man who was just scooting food around his plate.

You roll your eyes, gesturing to him, and curling your pointer finger before tapping your lips and then your chest. He should tell me.

You and Lucy conversed for a bit, secretly talking about Lighter who was just watching the back and forth silently. He was getting better at picking up signs, but you and Lucy went too fast for him to keep up. Once Lucy left, Lighter looked at you over the rim of his sunglasses with those big puppy eyes. He might not be quick at picking up sign language, but every time there was a bit of free time between the two of you, he asked for lessons.

You sat with him for what must have been an hour, running through basic conversational signs. Lighter was learning, slowly but surely. It was sweet. All of this work for him just to learn to talk to you in something other than typing or writing and passing notes.

After the little lesson, Lighter looked up at you, his hands idly fidgeting. He was nervous, that much was clear. He points to you, taps his chin with his middle finger, before tapping his pointer finger and middle against his wrist. You, favorite, nurse… You’re my favorite nurse. Cute.

You saw how nervous he was. How he had practiced those movements. So you decided to see just how much he had learned just for this cute little confession. You tap the tips of your flattened hand to the corner of your mouth and then up to your cheek. You smile to yourself as you watch his face explode into a deep blush, almost matching the color of his scarf as he looks away.

Adorable. He already learned ‘kiss’.

Here are the resources I used for the signs! https://www.signingtime.com/ https://www.signingsavvy.com/

#oneshot #zzz x reader #lighter fluff #lighter lorenz x reader #lighter lorenz #zzz lighter #lighter x reader

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silveredlies · 1 day ago

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Half truths and lies of omission were where he worked best. To twist something poisoned and corrupt so that it resembled beauty to be offered was a skill all on its own. There was no need for spells to charm of hypnotize save for some here and there when he had the power of words at his fingertips. Gaining desired information, turning others against their closest allies, stirring up battles in times of conflicts, all for his own gain. It was always nice that his hard work was noticed rather than those that bought in to a beautiful lie. Fools only bored him in the end. There were no true games if there was no challenge or perhaps he had simply become jaded in more ways than he thought. As for play acting, "Fior was smart to play along, though I am a little disappointed he knew already. I put quite a bit of effort in to that one. The necromancer boy, though...all it took was a drink. The Deathrunners leave a lot to be desired if they make someone so foolish their Underboss. I felt bad for him, truly."

To be brought into a lie so easily, there had been a touch of guilt when Mathias had left. Just barely, he had certainly done far worse in his long life. But now likely, his games wouldn't work any longer save for perhaps the bottom of the barrel folks. The ones ranked so low that they wouldn't be brought in to conversations of the Blood Witch. A true shame. Seeing the games come to their conclusion was always a bit disappointing but there were things to do before he found out what a deity could do to an insubordinate blood witch.

As he felt the small push towards himself, Corvinus wasted no time pushing back with his own aura of magic. Letting it seep through just slightly, pressing against the naga. But while the other radiated desire, his own was tainted with rage. Not towards Suresh, not right now, but often how his magic displayed itself. It was hatred and spite that allowed him to obtain his powers and still the powerful motivators that kept him going rather than secluding himself in his estate and watching the world fade away through the windows. But he was quick to pull his back and draw the small taste back into himself. They toyed with different weapons. "I think I'll just keep this one. Though it is adorable how keen you are to keep my jacket away. I'm not above self-maiming to get blood I need if pushed." Suresh had seen how quickly he had healed, there was no point pretending as if blood draw wasn't a tedious task. He felt the tail loosely wrap itself around his ankle though he didn't pull away. "Careful now," he gave a soft warning. The touch was fine so long as it didn't descend into violence and fighting again.

Still at the topic of the Nameless leader, Corvinus gave a sigh that was annoyed. As if it was a topic he didn't much care for. His lips pursed, leaning back into the couch with his arms stretched over the top and legs crossing. An image of openness and walls at the same time. His eyes moved to the windows, a long silence as he focused on the scenes down below. Fingers of one hand were tapping, dancing on the couch as though he were trying to come up with the perfect words. "...I'll grant you another trust," he finally spoke and attention rounding back to Suresh, "I said before you were the reason I came here. True in a way, but you weren't the one that initially drew my attention to the city. Just a happy perk." He thought about how far he should go, how careful to be. Whatever story he gave for the Nameless was a truth in a way considering where he was, so was the other. "I've been hunting while exploring the lovely city. The reason you haven't been able to reach the leader is because, well...he hasn't been here."

He'd been traveling, giving orders from afar, while gathering supplies and powers since his binding to the god. And trying to find a way to sever that same bond. "He came in to my country a few months ago. While I don't claim her lands, I ensure that my isles, my homeland, is safe. You wanted to know why I was here, I was drawn out. Forced into a game I had no intention of getting involved in to ensure me and my own are left alone. You want to know why I chose you three over the Nameless? You didn't interrupt my peace of mind. So I provoked, I taunted, all to create more noise to lure out what I wanted. Honestly, you lot did most of the work for me. And once I'm certain this is handled with the meeting, I will return home to my domain and continue my own works." Everything was stated so bluntly with that hint of annoyance on the topic. It was truths....though it was more the deity itself had lured and forced his involvement rather than any Leader in the shadows.

"I imagine he was still rather stuffy, even eighty years ago. Though an improvement over his predecessor." He listened and nodded, the reason why Callum as still alive was the one where their stories matched up the best. He survived simply because the Witch hadn't felt like killing him. But Corvinus' need to gloat was a delightful bit of petty that Suresh could understand. A sly smile breaking across his lips at the dog comment. However Suresh did have a healthy respect for Death, the Goddess and her chosen. Suresh didn't believe anyone, even Corvinus could outrun her indefinitely. Gold ophidian eyes drifted thoughtfully over the Witch's face. It was what he would do. Drop small seeds and hope the roots caused cracks... And the best doubts were plausible ones. Why would Callum lie about the reason behind the fight? What did it matter if he was following the charge of his Goddess? Suresh already knew how unhappy the Lightless Leader would be finding out how this exchange went between the Witch and him tonight.

The sly smile turned into a graciously amused grin, and the Naga shook his head. "Please. Take this as the compliment that it's meant to be. You are one of the most accomplished half-truth speaker I have ever met." Suresh shook his head, he was a prideful creature but he was careful and observant. Even while he played the total hedonist Suresh knew there was far more under the surface of Corvinus. He'd gotten a small peek behind the curtain and he had gotten a taste of how much was still hidden. Labyrinthian depths. "I heard you went play acting to a few others too... I hear everything... eventually."

Suresh relaxed a little, letting his body uncoil slightly. He had only glamoured his hands, not bothering with the rest of it. The talons were useful but they were just one small brutal piece of his arsenal. "The offer to replace the one I ruined is still there. But you do look nice in my shirt." His eyes drifted over his shoulder and chest, nodding, "I knew that one would fit you." Eternity was a long time to have to plan, to remember slightly, to hold grudges. Suresh slowly manipulated his little game board of the city, making moves that were designed to not pay off for a generation or longer. Position himself carefully in order to strike the quickest and best blow. The people that truly drew his ire he dismantled brick by brick. Methodical and cruel until all they desired was release from the misery. But it had been a long time since he'd felt the need to do that.

The feel of the warm hand in his own, electricity that he couldn't help jumping from skin to skin, it was just part of what he was, a soft pulse of desire. But nothing that couldn't be shrugged off by the Witch. Because yes, to touch someone that could ignore that soft current that drew people to him was lovely. Dangerous and alluring. His eyes watched as Corvinus brought Suresh's hand to his lips and kissed it. Terribly charming. And Suresh's eyes softened at the caress as he searched for the lie, for the flinch. The Naga wanted to tell him that he should fear them... but who was he to correct the other? A mischievous glint came into his eye as he drew his hand back. Letting them rest in his lap, golden nails tracing his own scales absently, "I have to confess, I haven't been that excited in ages..." He let his tail drift down and loosely curl itself around one of Corvinus' ankles. The Witch had accepted the hand, so why not push a little?

Listening to the Witch again it had that taste of truth enough. Missing pieces. What was one witch? The sentence made Suresh reguard Corvinus' thoughtfully before he answered, "Depends on the Witch..." The comment about the not being considered a god made the Naga shrug. "One cultures monster is another's god. Who knows? Maybe in another five hundred years someone will make a shrine to the Immortal Blood Witch and burn effigies to you?" Suresh's mind drifted back to his Advisor and the Lightless Emissary. So many coincidences... "Something I am curious about, where did you find him? You might be a wonderful lure but you had to post up somewhere to get his attention... And we've been attempting to reach out for a long while now... I simply must know, where was it?"

#convo | suresh | 02

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silverhalla · 4 months ago

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Back at it again with another theory: What if Lucanis’ betrayal wasn’t a betrayal at all?

(obviously, spoilers below the cut)

During The Wigmaker Job, we have some dialogue between Illario and Lucanis about their position within both the Crows and the Dellamorte family. Illario wants Caterina to step down so he can take the coveted First Talon spot. Lucanis reassures him that his time is coming, to which Illario makes a snide comment about whether his cousin would ever go against their grandmother’s wishes. When they continue the conversation after the job, Illario states that Lucanis is the potential heir, that he’s her favorite, and that he’s unlikely to say no to her. Lucanis doesn’t argue, only insists that he doesn’t want to be First Talon, and that he hopes she’ll see reason before that. It’s mentioned again in Eight Little Talons - Caterina favors Lucanis. It’s well-known enough among the Crows that Viago and Teia discuss it in front of her (not on purpose, but she doesn’t deny it). He’s her prodigy through and through.

In the opening scene for the Lucanis quest in Veilguard, Caterina is poised, as you’d expect of the First Talon. She’s certain that the body they buried wasn’t her grandson, that it had been altered with blood magic. She doesn’t pose it as a theory, though: she poses it as a fact. It could, of course, merely be her confidence, but there’s another very unusual aspect to the scene – everyone else discusses how Lucanis was clearly betrayed, that someone must have sold him out in order for the Venatori to capture him. Caterina is the only one in that room who never speaks on it. She doesn’t ask for justice, doesn’t mention vengeance, never acknowledges that her grandson was sold out by someone he trusted – perhaps because he wasn’t.

What if, when Caterina comes to him with a plan, with an impossible request, he’s still her favorite prodigal grandchild, and he still does whatever she asks? She’s had him tortured before as a child, has tortured and starved and beaten him herself before, because it makes him stronger and more resistant to it in the future. He says in The Wigmaker Job that he used to hate her for it, but now he understands. He justifies it. All Crows justify it, because they have to - if they don’t, then the cruelty wasn’t for survival’s sake, and their suffering meant nothing. Perhaps he doesn’t even question it. When Caterina tells him that she has a job for him, he takes it.

What if the contract has a caveat? Sure, Calivan must die by his hand by the end of it, a little treat for a job well done, but what if his primary mission is reconnaissance, is discovery? The Venatori are using blood magic to torture and corrupt prisoners. It would behoove the Crows to find out what it entails and how to resist it, before it’s turned back on them. It would have to be someone so deeply, unabashedly loyal to her that when she asked them to infiltrate a Venatori prison, expecting torture at best, their own death at worst, they’d take the job anyway, no questions asked - someone Caterina can trust, certainly, but also someone who has never once said no to her.

And Lucanis has always been a loyal grandson.

#lucanis dellamorte #dragon age: the veilguard #datv #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #da posting #maybe it’s also just because she thinks it would make him stronger and that’s how she always justifies it to herself because she’s evil!!!!#she’s MICRODOSING her GRANDSON with BLOOD TORTURE and DEMONS to fashion him into A BETTER WEAPON #I keep hearing people be like ‘oh there’s a moment in the lucanis storyline where I GASPED’#and other than like ‘he was dead the entire time’ I’m like…… what would be that shocking #and you know what would be that shocking??#if he put himself through it on purpose #envisioning a line where he’s like ‘when Caterina told me to go I didn’t ask questions because I’m a good crow!!!!!’#(also I think that would REALLY give a good bite to his demon being SPITE of all things)#also also I still think that Illario kills caterina (if she’s actually dead) but y’know what?#if he does GOOD FOR HIM #also lucanis just happening to be bursting out of his cell when you get there…. SUSPECT #was he just ready to break out at any time? if so why did he stay and get tortured for a YEAR?#why were the guards so afraid of him?? what was he capable of???#‘you’re a crow’ or ‘but you’re not a crow’ ohhhh so you were expecting a rescue?#oh I am CONNECTING the DOTS (I haven’t connected shit) I’VE CONNECTED THEM #voelene #your caterina + illario post started these wheels turning and I am eternally grateful #also tho did update this slightly because I forgot about their conversation at the end of TWJ #also got so wrapped up in my hatred of caterina that I failed to consider another emotionally devastating option:#that lucanis was the one who wanted to go and caterina covered for him #now THAT’S got some bite to it too #and maybe Lucanis volunteering to take on a demon is why it doesn’t possess him fully #it’s like a wynne/anders thing it’s symbiotic

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tealfruit · 1 month ago

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I wish I knew how to have a proper social life anymore but somehow being actively part of any community has become like. weirdly super difficult for me. I don't know what happened, why it became so hard to reach out and be friends with people, but like. considering I could count on 1 hand the number of people who actually ever talk to me first, I should really try to get better about it if I ever want to be part of a friend group again

#nerd alert #to those who do reach out: u know who u are and i love and appreciate you #im sorry i dont initiate much i promise its not cuz i dont like u. i am just so bad at it. i do not know why im so bad at it #i hate how bad at it i am bc like. it means that truly my isolation is my own damn fault. like there are people i can talk to #im in several discord servers with nice people but i just. get so overwhelmed #and its a vicious cycle too bc its like oh ill go talk in this server #and ppl who already have relationships with each other and know each other are already talking abt stuff i know nothing about #so im like. well. i dont think i have anything to contribute here and i dont really understand what anyones talking about anyway.#so then i dont join the conversation. and dont get to know anyone or form friendships with anyone.#it fucking sucks man. i hate it so much but theres always so much going on #plus i think ive accidentally disincentivized that shit for myself. cuz im just now remembering #the times when i HAVE gotten into an intense conversation online i just end up Only doing that #like just glued to my phone for an hour instead of like. doing chores. or doing art. or getting off the toilet. or whatever #and its stupid that i dont like doing that cuz its all im doing half the time anyway is scrolling on my phone #but if i get wrapped up into a conversation i end up giving it all my attention which in theory is a good thing but in practice is like #almost kinda detrimental at times cuz oftentimes it comes at the expense of other things i need to be doing!#why is life so hard man. i gotta like. idk just join voice channels or something while im drawing or whatever. idek #maybe this is something i try to work on in the new year

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maskedbyghost · 4 months ago

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arranged marriage with simon. yes i am talking about this again.

simon doesn’t talk much about the marriage at first, but his actions say it all. he insists on carrying your bags, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, and making sure you eat enough during missions. you don't ask him why, but it's clear he's claiming the role of protector, even if this was supposed to be temporary.

he won’t admit it, but simon begins to get used to the little domestic routines. you cooking dinner, him taking care of repairs around the house. it feels too natural, and although he never says anything, he’s already mentally putting the two of you into that “forever” category.

the first time you mention needing space or wanting to stay in a separate room, simon just gives you a look. "what do you mean, separate? we’re married." he’s not joking either. to him, this isn’t a temporary arrangement anymore. if you try to argue, he’ll just pull you close and mutter in your ear, "ring’s on your finger. means you’re mine." and that’s the end of the conversation.

he starts doing small things for you that a husband would—restocking your favorite snacks, making sure your gun is cleaned before missions, and slipping extra blankets on your side of the bed when it’s cold.

after some time, he’s not shy about touching you anymore—brushing a hand against your arm, holding you a little too close when you’re out in public. the more time passes, the more his touches become possessive, like he’s reminding you who you belong to now.

simon is up early, always. you’ll wake up to the smell of coffee, and he’ll have a cup ready for you without asking. if you take your time getting out of bed, he’ll mutter, "c’mon, mrs. riley. don’t make me drag you out." but there’s always a smile on his face.

when you share a bed, simon always pulls you into him at night. no matter how much space you take up at first, by morning, you’re wrapped up in his arms. if you stir in your sleep or seem restless, he’ll murmur, "got you, lovie," without fully waking up, his grip tightening as if to remind you he’s there, keeping you safe.

simon doesn’t open up easily, but after a particularly intense moment, he’ll lean in close, his forehead resting against yours, and he’ll whisper, "don’t care if it was for a mission or not. you’re the only one for me now." it’s not a grand declaration, but the sincerity in his voice makes your heart race.

simon will leave subtle marks of possession on you—his dog tags hanging around your neck, his scent clinging to your clothes, and his bite marks on your skin after an especially heated night. "need everyone to know who you belong to," he’ll growl against your skin, his lips trailing kisses down your neck.

he also has an odd obsession with your wedding ring. he’ll turn it on your finger, kissing it softly whenever you’re close. if you ever take it off for some reason, his brow furrows, and he’ll slip it back on. "keep it on, yeah?" his voice is low, almost pleading. "means something to me."

after a particularly dangerous mission where you were almost hurt, simon corners you in the hallway, eyes filled with emotion. "you’re not leaving me," he growls, pinning you against the wall. "ever. understand?" it’s a statement, a vow, and in that moment, you know you’re his forever, and he’s yours.

when you’re lying in bed together, his arms wrapped around you, simon will sometimes whisper, "mine," into your hair. it’s soft, almost inaudible, but you feel it in your bones. he needs the reminder just as much as you do—that you’re his, and he’s never letting you go.

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley

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writersdrug · 6 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley headcanons #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost headcanons #call of duty #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod #cod blurbs

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whysamwhy123 · 1 year ago

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Swerve lost because of course he did, what else were they supposed to do? Moxley's there, after all! 🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂

#aew lb #Remember back in the day when Jamie and The Acclaimed got super over on their own and as a result AEW put the world titles on them??#(Nevermind how both those reigns got flushed down the toilet in the end - that's a different conversation altogether)#But the point is AEW used to actually capitalise whenever a talent unexpectedly got over organically by giving them a title #But nowadays? Not so much #Swerve gets super over puts on star-making performance after star-making performance and the crowds are 100% behind him #And yet they are doing EVERYTHING in their power to keep him as far away from a championship as possible #I made a post a while ago with my rant-y theory as to why #I reckon that all the men's singles titles in AEW rn are wrapped up in storylines and plans that they aren't willing to change #So they're not willing to deviate and put Swerve in the title picture as a result #But that's no excuse #It's frankly ridiculous #Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh #I hate it here

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nicholasgoodgirl · 5 months ago

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could you make a jealous Nicholas smuttt???

request accepted!

crazy in love -nicholas

summary: you get jealous so you successfully make nicholas jealous in return and he teaches you a lesson.

warning: smut, pin v, unprotected sex (plsplspls use a condom), overstimulation (i think thst it not sure)

a/n: thanks for the request. pls keep them coming

nicholas wanted me to attend this red carpet event with him, and of course i was quick to accept but i quickly dreaded and pushed down the eargness i so suddenly felt to be able to attend such an important place. i started going down a rabbit hole of posts of him with other girls.

the comments collectively agreeing he looks better with the other women he has worked with in the past.

i cut my phone off and waited in silence for my boyfriends stylist to be done with the finishing touches on his suit.

i walk in the dressing room and he was laughing with his stylist, and of course she had to be a woman.

at the after party of the even i planned on getting pay back for the jealousy he probably didn't even know he had instilled in me.

we were here at the after party and I've seen a few recognizable celebrities there but wouldn't dare approach them.

nicholas' hand was comfortably placed around my waist "nervous?" he asks, his words coming out ever so subtly "nope, why would i be" he replied with a low hum; shrugging.

i left his side and went to go get drinks he dispersed off somewhere else as well.

not even 10 minutes later i found myself talking to some guy with nice brown hair that complimented his soft brown eyes but his looks didn't even compare with my man.

"do you have somewhere to be after this?" he asked and i just let out a chuckle "maybe" i looked around to seen nicholas eyes were already on us.

i swallow drly and try and wrap the conversation up "i think i gotta go" that was my abrupt attempt on ending the conversation.

"c'mon pretty lady i can make it worth your while" the man placed his hands on my hip trying to make me stay.

before i could say anything i was being dragged away from him to no suprise by my boyfriend himself.

"let go of me" my voice wobbles. i struggle to tug my hand out of his grip; trying to get free. "no, we're going home. now." his voice was stern and there was no question. we were going home.

in a hurry nicholas unlocks the door, we both walk in and he slams the door shut behind us "what the fuck was that!?" he shouts.

"suddenly we go to a party and you're single?" i feel guilty but then remember the pictures i saw of him with other girls; looking cozier then ever.

"tha-thats not what happend at all" i try to explain myself. "you need to be taught a lesson. wanna be taught a lesson love?" he asks, his hand firmly squeezing my cheeks too firm towards i could only nod

"yeah I'm sure you do" he scoffs and pulls me to our shared room.

once we reach the dimly lit room, the only light illuminating the room was the warm tone of the lamp.

Nicholas pushes me down on the bed and crawls ontop of me starting to place open kisses down my neck, to my collar bone.

going back up to my lips, grabbing my face kissing me roughly. i moan into the kiss giving him enough space for his tounge to invade my mouth, claiming me as his.

he stops what he's doing "take your clothes off" he demands. i comply and begin taking off my heels throwing them aside with a loud bang they hit the ground follwed by the other heel. then pulling my dress off painfully slow so he does it for me.

snatching the material over my head and tosses it aside kissing down my stomach, trailing down to my inner thigh.

"you're so perfect" he mumbles, his fingers mess with the hem of my lacey panties and pulls them down and off me.

he goes down on me and licks the arousal that leaked from my core. i bite my lip to suppress a moan.

another lick, and a pressured kiss against my clit. i was a mess. feeling his breath against me sent shivers all over. i let out a gasp when he swirl his tounge on me. i felt my orgasm nearing; the band ready to snap "close- oh fuck!" i shout

he pulls away almost immediately. "not yet you aren't. turn over f'me"

"please.. i just- m'sorry" i whine, turning over anyway putting my ass in the air "sweetheart this is a punishment you can cum whenever i say. alright?" he says with faux sympathy

i hear his belt fall to the ground and his zipper unzip before he positions himself behind me and lines his throbbing cock up with my entrance.

with a deep thrust, he buries himself far inside me. "you feel that? how deep im inside you?" i nod vigourisly letting out a whimper. his hips snap forward; each thrust giving pushing my body up the bed.

his hand moves down my back pushing my face into the bed allowing me to take him deeper.

nicholas leans down and whispers in my ear "could he fuck you like this?" everything was so intense i could harldy ever come up with a verbal response for anything he asked. so again i shook my head 'no'

he grabs my hair and makes a makeshift ponytail "could he?" ,,no" i cry out squeezing my eyes shut in relief when he lets go of my hair

he continues slamming into me at a relentlessly brutal pace. the only sounds that could be heard was lewed sounds of skin slapping together paird with my muffled moans

we discussed a safe word prior to moments like these and i would have used it in this moment but as intense as everything was it felt so good.

without warning i clench around him and realese the knot that had formed in my stomach bursting. his thrusts didn't slow down, "i didn't say you could cum" he disdainfully reminded

i hiss at the sensitivity. my vision began to blur with tears while I also realize this is him teaching me a lesson. "apologies" he demands "imsorry.. im so fucking sorry" i began sobbing

i could no longer keep my body up my legs began to shake but no matter the condition nicholas' hands kept me in place as he pounds into me. before i knew it he had finished inside me already

i was so far gone in a daze i didn't even realize it. he pulls out and lets my body flop onto the bed "are you alright?" he asks tucking pieces of hair that had fallen in my face behind my ear.

he gets one of the throw blankets and puts it over me. 'mm' is all i could muster up. i was fine but in the moment i just wanted to sleep

a/n: i wanted to add aftercare but i feel like this was long enough..

#nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez smut

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manmuncher777 · 13 days ago

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Imagine Trying to take the strongest in bed

All talk…

“With all due respect, you couldn’t handle me sweets.” That was what Gojo had said to you. You were offended. It was late and you were just sat drinking in your room. You weren’t drunk, but you were buzzed. Both of you were, and now the conversation had taken a bit of a… turn. “What?! I could, it’s you who couldn’t handle me.” You exclaim, slightly offended that your friend thought so little of your abilities. This had all started when you said you reckon Gojo was a bottom. Much to his dismay. You even went as far to say you would have him whimpering. But he didn’t get defensive, he just laughed it off. “What makes you think you’re so good anyway?” You huff at him

“Why don’t I show you?” A sly smirk on his face. The air thick with tension.

And that’s how you ended up Riding Gojo on your couch. “F-fuck- Satoru~” You moans cut off each time you sunk down on his cock again. Your body chasing the oxygen that you were losing by moaning his name so much. His Thick Cock slipping in and out so sweetly with each roll of your hips. His lower half covered in you slick, vulgar sounds of your wetness echoing in the room. “What’s wrong sweets? Thought you could handle it?” He coos in your ear, the teasing words only to be met wit with a pathetic whimper from you. You thought you could handle it too. But you never expected Satoru to be this big. And you didn’t expect that teasing smirk and honeyed voice of his to have such an effect on you while he was balls deep.

Your legs were quivering now, Struggling enough to straddle his muscular figure, and take his earth shattering cock. He had turned his hips just right so that it would reach the deepest parks of you. His red wrapping tip hitting that delicious spot inside of you that had you begging for more. You were mesmerised by his dick, brain turned to mush as you could do nothing but cling on for dear life. But your stamina was no match for Gojos Your legs faultering, trembling under the pleasure and stopping their movements. “Oh? had enough?” Satoru watched you with a smirk as you writhed around, trying to resume your movements You cry out pathetically, not even able to form words in this moment. Lifting your hips only for them to fall back down in exhaustion. “Oh come on, surely you can do better than that?” He whispered to you, a chuckle leaving him. He on the other hand was fine, his body covered in a light sheen of sweat, Hands resting on your hips as you rode him. Of course it felt fucking good, He had to hold himself back when he first sank into your wet cunt, but his stamina was through the roof, so he could take a lot more than you. You were only now just figuring that out. “Satoruu~” You whine for him. silently begging him to help you, to fuck you.

“Really? tapping out already?” His sly voice slipping its way into your brain, the sound whirling around in there, fucking you deeper into your messy state.

You were practically paralysed from his dick, unable to hover now. You body’s only movement was the heavy breathing and the pathetic clenching of your pussy around Gojo’s thick cock. It was the only thing you could do, the one thing you couldn’t stop yourself from doing. Even as your body was giving up on you, you still craved his cock.

“‘Toruu~ Help..” You whispered, not fully trusting your voice. It was a simple beg, but filled with so much need. Your pretty little face now staring up at him, arms shakily doing their best to support you as you gave him your best puppy eyes. Batting those lashes of yours and tears brimmed in your eyes

When you looked at him like that he could hardly say no.

Those hands that rested on your hips now dug into the fleshy skin tightly, lifting you up from his cock as if you weighed nothing. Only his tip remained in your sweet hole.

“s’okay baby, Toru’s gonna help. Just relax f’me” he whispers sweetly in your ear, the usual cocky tone now removed from his voice as he spoke. He stared into your eyes, watching your face before he started to piston his hips into yours. Holding you up, slowing himself to move with ease as he fucked you faster than you were ever capable of moving. Shit, you should’ve done this from the beginning.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours sounded in your ears, as soon as his vigorous movements started you couldn’t take it anymore. Your arms buckling at you just hug tightly onto his body. Your face bruied in his neck, moaning loudly, without a care as he fucked into you.

His thick cock basically bullying your welcoming walls. The juicy tip of his cock hitting that same spot over and over again. Fuck he should’ve done this from the start. Gojo bit his lip, trying to restrain the groans that were still escaping him, feeling your walls practically mould to every grove of his cock.

“Oh fuck- ‘Toru~ fuck fuck fuck. S-sloww” words flying out of your mouth before you could even form a proper sentence. This was probably the best sex you had ever had

“Slow? Nuh uh baby, this is what you wanted. So you’re just gonna take it for me, ‘Kay?” Small kisses, sloppy kisses were trailed up your neck and back as best he could. Trying his best to concentrate. But the way you were squeezing him so tight had his resolve failing. His brushing grip on your hips only tightening with each sensual thrust he planted inside of you.

You had never been more wrong in your life than you were earlier. Gojo was completely right, you couldn’t take him. You couldn’t barely match Hi stamina, this was only the first round and you were a drooling mess. With any other guy you’d be bored at this point. But Gojo was definitely keeping you on your toes.

“Oh.” A gutteral moan left the white haired mans lips. “You close already baby?” And that fucking smirk was back in his tone again. The worst part being he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He knew that the way hes humiliating you has you foaming at the fucking mouth for him.

You were in awe. How the fuck has he picked up on that before you. Only after he had mentioned something is when you started to notice that effect build in your abdomen. That coil that was wound so tight you were sure you were going to snap in half if you didnt cum soon.

“Fuck- please please!” You cry out, affirming his thoughts of your impending orgasm. His pace didn’t faulter, not once. Like he knew exactly what to do to get you there. You couldn’t comprehend how he was keeping this brutal pace so well. He didnt even sound out of breath.

“Shhhh, I know sweets, feels good huh?” Fuck yeah it felt good

It felt fucking good when you came all over his cock. When the wave of pleasure crashed over you, your muscles tensing as it wracked over your body, leaving you trembling. It felt fucking good to let your mind just go blank as you screamed your friends name. It felt good when you drenched his torso in you juices, you had never came that hard before in you life. His hips continuing their movements as he helped you ride out your high

You stay snuggled into his neck, breathing in his scent. It was his expensive cologne, ever so slightly tinged by the musky smell of sweat and sex. Fuck it was a good smell. After your whimpers died down, so did his thrusts as he gave you a moment to regain yourself. You couldve quite happily remained there for the rest of the night, sleeping. But you became aware of something, he was still hard. He hadn’t even cum yet. Your hips absentmindedly shifting slightly, still sensitive from your orgasm. Only to be stilled by the strong hands holding your hips. He pushed himself balls deep, pushing you onto him as far as he could.

You whimper at the feeling, it was like he was in your throat. Your body still reeling from its orgasm as you try to shift away from the intense feeling.

“Oh no, don’t try to run baby.” Kissing sweetly on your head as he mutters into your hair. But you can hear menace behind that, you can hear his shit eating grin “Im not finished with you yet.” You whine at the prospect of another world shattering orgasm

“Thought you said you could take it huh? Or were you all talk?”

(ARTS NOT MINE!!!! CREDITS TO ORIGINAL ARTIST)

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