#but just in general I love him and I think it'd be good for him to get angrier sometimes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mv1simp · 4 months ago

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for anon's request: max with another driver's younger sis, same age gap <3

Girls Need Love ♥️

Max Verstappen x Sainz!Reader

girls can never say they need it, girls can never say now, oh now (give it to me like you need it, baby)

You're the youngest cousin in the Sainz family, your papa's most precious princessa. Unlike your cousins and brother, who get to openly show off their many romantic conquests, you have been raised to be demure and shy about boys. But when you meet your older brother's friend, Max, you can't control the desires within you. You want him, and you're ready to show him just how much.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, sexual tension, size kink, dom!Max, sub!Reader, 5k WC

It was no secret that your older brother, Carlos, was a notorious playboy. He gets it from his father, your tias had always gushed, he was always a ladies' man too! Growing up, you'd always see Carlos easily charm his way with younger and older women alike, his devilishly good looks just too hard to resist. And he wasn't discreet about it either - you'd had to bang many a time on the wall separating your rooms on family vacation when him and his fling of the month had been a touch too enthusiastic with their activities. Your large family would always laugh when they'd emerge from their room to join brunch, well into the late morning, and tease Carlos that the tequila and oyster paella last night must have had a kick to it, ay carino?

You'd join in on the teasing, giggling and enjoying the blush Carlos would always get when you called him el estupido rompecorazones, an idiotic heartstealer. When you were younger, you had always thought that one day your tios and tias would tease you too, on family vacation when you returned from a lazy afternoon stroll with a boyfriend, all flushed - but as you grew older, you'd accepted it as just a childhood fantasy. You weren't shy by any means (you had Spanish blood after all! A Sainz through and through) but you didn't possess that natural flirtatious nature, the ability to give those romantic smoulders that your older brother seems to have been born with. And when you focused on your career more and more, working as a sought after financial advisor to your brother and many of his athlete colleagues, you found that by age 26 you'd only had a small handful of short relationships.

The one time you'd brought a college boyfriend home - your first and only serious relationship - your father had certainly had a very different attitude towards him compared to his usual friendliness to Carlos' girlfriends. You'd told your papa afterwords how embarrassing it'd been that he had interrogated your boyfriend over dinner, wanting to know what his future plans were on a first meeting, only for him to ruffle your curls and press a kiss to your forehead to melt away the upset expression you had. Ay, mi princesa, I have to make sure all these tontos are good enough for you, hmm? You're far more precious to me than your idiota brother and cousins.

Although his words were meant to soothe your frustrations, they just made you feel uneasy - you were also a hot blooded Sainz, you also wanted to passionately love and be loved! But it seemed that as time passed and everyone around you brought their paramours to the Mallorca vacation home, you would always remain the sweet little princessa, the youngest and innocent cousin.

You'd put your love life to the side for the past year, focusing on your rapidly expanding business portfolio. So when Carlos mentioned one of his friends had signed a very generous contract this season, and needed advice of how to invest a good chunk of it, you'd immediately said yes without knowing who it was. You hadn't expected to find yourself sitting across the table from Max Verstappen. Of course, you and Max had met many times when he and Carlos had raced on the same junior team - but you'd been much younger then. You remember always thinking the serious, intense Dutch boy had been so handsome, had even developed a schoolgirl's crush on him - but as your older brother's racing team mate who was notorious for enraged outbursts, he was off limits to you in your family's eyes and had ignored you most of the time.

But now, years later, things were quite different with you being a 26 year old woman, fully matured into your gorgeous curves and thick lips, and those famous Sainz wide brown eyes, framed with long lashes. Even now though, the tall Dutchman made your heart flutter when he laughed at your apology for the delay in setting up a meeting, your idiota tonto of an older brother had conveniently forgotten to mention that his friend happened to be the current F1 world champion. You two shared a delicious lunch at the beach club overlooking the stunning Monaco marina, stimulating conversation flowing over a glass of light white wine and fresh oysters. Although you discussed various business plans, you were surprised to find how easy it was to laugh at many other things with the handsome driver, from childhood memories to how you’d found college in London to his two cats named after nightclubs and your one dog dutifully named after your childhood favourite rapper - Snoop.

You couldn't help but blush whenever Max smiled at you with his enticing lips, looking so gorgeous with his tousled blonde hair and dressed in a rare white linen shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and thick biceps.

After you'd covered the different investment options he could go for and he had selected the ones that peaked his interest, you wrapped up the business meeting by reaching into your Chanel purse to pull out your card - you always had a rule to pay for your clients and give them a first class experience.

To your surprise, Max had already given his black Amex to the waiter when you had touched up your lipgloss in the bathroom earlier. At your gentle protests, he explained that his mother would kill him if he didn't look after Carlos' younger sister - as would your father, he joked. You laughed easily with him as he walked you back to your car, a cute Mini Cooper, agreeing that yes, your papa probably would have the head of any man who didn't treat his princessa right. As you drove off, you couldn't help the longing in your heart for wanting Max to pay because he cared for you, found you to be a beautiful woman, rather than because he was looking after Carlos' younger sister.

You made sure to put those unprofessional desires to the back of your mind at your next meeting 2 weeks later, this time at your small but luxurious office in a ocean-facing building in downtown Monaco. You'd recently moved here with your small team, you explained as you greeted him at the entryway to guide him to the elevators, as so much of your clientele was based in the area. In the reflective surface of the elevator walls, you don't miss how his intense blue eyes rake down the back of your curvy figure, taking in how the dress you’d specifically chosen for today hugs you just right, especially over your ass - where his gaze lingers for a second too long.

You’re blushing again as you exit, pleased that you had drawn his attention. He remains the perfect gentleman for the rest of your meeting, listening intently as you break down the personalised investment plan your company has created for him. He’s very impressed with your selection, every option carefully curated to preference he’d mentioned at your lunch, even in passing, and presented in a minimalist layout, just as he liked it. His praise brings back the same desire and want you felt, unable to dampen it this time.

Over the next three months you meet Max to review the physical investment options you’d agreed on. If you’re being honest, this sort of task would generally be managed by a more junior executive at your small firm - but you told yourself that you were choosing to meet him yourself because he was such a VIP client, and not because you felt a rapidly growing attraction to the handsome blonde. And after touring the various developing high rise complexes or promising start up businesses that his investments were going to, you two would always end up going for lunch and a drink together afterwards. And sometimes you’d see him on his morning jogs while you walked your dog. Seeing Max kneel down to play with Snoop had been so adorable you’d asked if he knew a good bakery in the area, hoping he would join you. To your delight he did, taking you for a rich hot chocolate and freshly baked croissant that ended up happening regularly, especially once he invited you to join his group for padel. But even when you started seeing him so often, Max remained the perfect gentleman, never letting his gaze drift or hands wander after that one time in the elevator. So you reminded yourself not to read into it when he offered to show you his favourite sights of Monaco, as you’d still recently moved here, taking you for long drive along the beautiful Azure coast.

Despite your internal turmoil, you’d dressed in a pretty floral minidress, hoping he might enjoy the view of your soft thighs. But instead, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from admiring how sexy he’d looked when driving, one hand on the wheel, showcasing his thick, veiny arms and the other resting on the console. As he’d chatted away, confidently navigating the winding roads, you couldn’t help but wonder what he’d do if you redirected his large hand to grip your thigh instead. You’d instantly blushed when you heard him calling your name, realising that you’d tuned him out and blamed it on the heat. So he took an exit and next thing you were enjoying the most delicious strawberry gelato you’d tasted, moaning from the taste and licking up a rivulet that had run down your hand. When you looked over to Max to thank him for introducing this place, you have to hold back a gasp at how hungrily his gaze is fixed on your pouting lips. But then the sun catches your eye at a sharp angle and you blink, and when you look again the look is gone and he’s laughing at the sight of Snoop desperately trying to lick your ice cream out the car window.

Your poor little heart can’t take all this one sided attraction, you desperately needed to know if Max felt any desire to you like you felt for him. So a couple of weeks later, when you were meeting him for the last official signing of asset acquisitions at one of the downtown Monaco high rise buildings, you make sure you’re wearing another one of your irresistible dresses in an effort to catch his eye. As you reach past him to grab the pen he’d sign with, you can’t resist pressing your soft, plush tits against his large bicep, which looked so good again in a half zipped knit sweater. His gaze automatically flickers down to your low cut sweetheart neckline, lingering on your cleavage pushed against him a beat to long to be considered polite, before he draws his attention back up to your blushing face, to your pink glossed lips that you now bite. You don't miss the dark hunger swirling in his blue eyes, the tension thickening and sparks crackling, his hand reaching up to brush your cheek as both of you lean in-

Then your phone rings, your brother's contact photo lighting up the screen, ruining the moment. You curse internally at Carlos for cockblocking you even when he wasn't physically present, but you take his call just in case it was important (it wasn't. The idiota just wanted to complain about how Spain had lost the football to England). When you furiously whisper at Carlos to shut the hell up before hanging up and turning back around, Max is back to the almost infuriating gentleman self he is around you, handing you the signed papers with a polite smile. You try not to let the disappointment on your face show, because you couldn't figure out why the Dutchman didn't seem interested in pursuing you when you'd seen him out at the Monaco clubs, arms around pretty girls and flirting easily. Did he not find you pretty like he found them?

After the paperwork is all done and Max is walking you back to your car, he offers to take you out for a final celebration, this time an intimate dinner instead of your usual sunny beachside lunches. You spent the better part of an hour trying to pick the most tempting outfit, and then another hour applying your makeup to flatter your already pretty, dark features. You wanted to look absolutely perfect for him, knowing this might be the last chance you'd have in a while to use work as an excuse. And when Max saw you walk out as he leaned against his sleek discreet black Audi, you couldn't stop the pleased flush that spread across your cheeks when he raked his gaze over your short form, taking in how the elegant burgundy full length dress clung to your curves, complimenting you on how lovely you looked tonight, even more so than usual. You sweetly returned the compliment, which wasn't hard to do as Max looked so handsome in a baby blue button up and fitted pants, his broad muscles and large frame perfectly highlighted for you to ogle.

And after intimate Spanish dinner over soft candelight, laughing and sharing your latest stories of the week, enjoying more than a single glass of red wine for once, you couldn't help but hope that this would be it, the night where something finally happened between the two of you, because surely Max had just been holding back out of professional boundaries, yes? So after Max generously paid for dinner - as per usual - you accepted his offer to drive you home. The gold sparkly heels you'd worn worked very well to make your ass pop even more as you confidently walked - something that you made sure to capitalise on by walking ahead of Max as you left the restaurant.

And you'd been so sure all signs pointed to romance when he pulled up in front of your apartment, and you asked if he'd like to come enjoy the night view from your balcony with another glass of wine, and he'd briefly hesitated before saying Yes, of course, Schatje. You beam at him, melting at his use of the Dutch nickname, which he'd told you meant sweetheart when you'd curiously asked him when he began absentmindedly calling you that a few weeks ago. And it felt so natural to be up on your balcony with him, giggling with a bottle of wine after trashing him at Monopoly, sitting so close that you could feel his warmth radiating through his shirt as you kicked off your heels and sat down on the outdoor settee. And when he continued talking easily about all the ways he was certain you cheated when you lean your head against his strong shoulder, you took it as another promising sign. But then, when you'd looked up at him with your brown doe eyes and thick lashes, desperately hoping he would lean in because you thought the moment had been right - you'd only been met with disappointment after a long, long moment when he turned his soft blue eyes away. He’d tensed, saying he was sorry for keeping you up so late, he should head off now - avoiding your gaze as your eyes swelled as you watched him leave out the front door.

You didn’t see Max for the next two weeks after that, avoiding walking your usual weekend route or tagging along to the padel games. You felt so embarrassed that perhaps you’d read the signals wrong, and also so frustrated that you couldn’t be more like your older brother who had no problem flirting blatantly with others or giving them an open mouthed kiss. Would Max even like a girl who did that? Wasn’t he meant to make the first move as proof that he wanted you? Glumly, you moped about at work and at home, watching Bridgerton and eating strawberry ice cream out of the carton. When your family chat blew up as it approached the time of the year where you’d all meet up and spend time at the Mallorca home, you had already texted that you weren’t coming - but then found yourself having to answer multiple angry calls in Spanish from various relatives and decided it was just easier to give in.

Packing a bag with the essentials - sunglasses, bikinis and raunchy romance novels - you headed to the vacation home a week early to unwind and prepare yourself for the chaos that was your loving family, knowing that everyone would turn up with their latest boyfriend and girlfriend and you’d be teased about how you were too sweet and shy as usual. Sweet and shy your ass, you thought moodily, sipping on a frozen margarita you made as you lounged in a bikini by the pool.

Schatje?

You whirl around, thinking you were imaging things now, but there Max stood, looking as hot as ever in that favourite white linen shirt of yours. And it was open down the front too, revealing his toned broad chest to you for the first time. You got so distracted that you didn’t hear him the first time asking what you were doing there - to which you had to each arch a brow and haughtily reply that this was the Sainz family home, shouldn't he explain why he was here?

Turns out Carlos had apparently thought Max was too keyed up the past few weeks and getting twitchily close to the Ferraris on race weekends. So your idiota brother had tossed him the spare keys to unwind in the empty villa before everyone showed up - except for you. But I’ll leave, you were here first - Max had said, but you sighed, still wanting to be an accomodating host like your family had raised you to be, despite your hurt feelings, and generously said the villa was huge, you two could easily just stay out of each other’s way?

So you did both stay, keeping to opposite ends of the villa - at least for the first few hours, anyway. Max had been unable to resist the smell of the enchiladas you’d cooked up for dinner and you hadn’t been able to stop drinking the ice cold G&Ts he poured whenever you asked. And a couple of days passed like that, you two easily slipping into friendship again, ignoring the tension on your balcony from last time. But seeing Max in your summer home stirred up that desire within you, made you ache for him and leave your bikini bottoms all sticky and wet after you’d stare at his shirtless, muscley back from behind your sunglasses all afternoon. It was pathetic, really, that you had the real man right there in front of you but couldn’t seem to charm him.

And the torture didn’t stop even when he was out of your sight, when you woke up flushed in the middle of the night, heady from the pleasure of a recurrent dream you’d been having lately about a certain tall blonde Dutchman having his way with you as he bent you over your office desk and dirtily whispered a you going to let me cum inside you, schatje? Instead of helplessly pining, you decided to give your frustrated little pussy some well deserved relief that night. Opening your French doors out the the garden, you made yourself comfortable on the soft outdoor sofa on the patio as you slid up your silky nightdress and took your favourite bullet vibrator right where you ached the most. It was risky, sure - but it was your house, and it was far too hot in the summer heat to get worked up indoors. Besides, Max was asleep, all the way on the other side of the villa. There was no chance of him hearing what you were doing this many doors down.

So that’s why you didn’t hold your sweet moans back, getting louder and louder, eyes fluttering shut from the delicious pleasure your toy was bringing you, moaning his name on your lips just like you’d been doing in the dream. What you hadn't yet realised was that Max was very accustomed to being up at odd hours, gaming and sim racing away - but the summer heat had been intolerable as he ran warm anyway. And you certainly didn’t notice that your pretty show had caught the attention of the very man it was dedicated to, who was out on a late night walk to cool off.

He’d planned on minding his own business, truly, when he’d seen you throw your head back in pleasure - knowing that you were forbidden fruit as Carlo's little sister, having grown up protected and so naively experienced to the world of sin Max had been exposed to. You were far too precious, too pure, for someone as destructive and aggressive as him to touch. Really, he had planned on walking right back to his room, taking a cold shower and maybe jerking off to hypnotising image of you in a silk slip under the moonlight.

But then he heard you breathily call his name, your sweet voice calling out for Maxie, all high pitched as you remained lost in your fantasy. It’s what you’d called him when you were little, watching him admiringly from the junior Redbull garage as he and Carlos walked back from a race.

All shreds of self control he’d had to avoid getting involved with his friend’s sweet, protected younger sister - all got tossed aside. So when you became frustrated with your toy, biting your lip and scrunching your eyebrows cutely because it just wasn’t hitting the way you wanted - he couldn’t resist huskily asking if you want to try out the real thing, prinses?

You gasped, snapping your soft thighs closed and jolting upright, only to look horrified as you saw Max leaning against the patio railing, thick arms crossed across his shirtless figure. His hungry gaze and wicked smirk made it clear he’d seen you playing with your most intimate parts while moaning his name like a desperate little slut. You’d stammered out an apology, trying to talk your way out of the shameless scene, half painfully embarrassed and half furious he'd watched you so intensely even though he'd rejected you before. Max tilts his head, expression unreadable as he takes in your weak excuses. To your surprise, he stalks forward, standing in front of your seated form, murmuring that if you were truly sorry you’d make it up to him by picking up where you'd left off your cute little show.

You blinked, face flushed, asking him confusedly that you didn’t understand, you’d thought that he wasn’t interested in you, hadn’t found you pretty, after all the months of tension he’d walked away on the balcony-

Oh, schatje, Max sighed, large palm reaching out to brush your plush cheeks as he looked down at your upset face, his finger lingering against your pouting lips. I wanted you the moment I saw you in that black dress at our very first lunch. Your doe eyes widened as he continues, explaining how truly, he’d held back on his twisted desires for his friend's little sister, who he was expected to look after - but instead had been having filthy thoughts about, hmm? He’d used his other hand to palm the growing bulge then, making you gasp at the size even though his sweats. The things I’ve been thinking about, sweet girl…they're far too dirty for such a pure angel like you.

Heat spread through your body at his words, a dusty pink flush on your face. Shyly, you spread your legs wide open again, letting him see all of you, all of the wetness that dripped down as you weren’t wearing any panties underneath your nightdress. You wanted to show him just how much you wanted this, how you weren’t some precious little doll that everyone thought you were. So even though it made you blush furiously, you looked right at him as you leaned back on the settee and slowly slid a cute manicured finger down your slit before entering yourself. The desire in Max's wide pupils was obvious as you moaned his name again, coyly mentioning that you'd always wondered if he'd be able to better stretch you out, your tiny fingers and toys couldn’t do the job?

You finally break him then, and he growls and bends down to pull you towards him, his broad shoulders blocking out the sky but his sea blue eyes just as gorgeous to look at as the stars. You giggle at how enamoured he looks gazing down at you, but then you’re gasping into his mouth as he leans down to capture your lips with his. And your gasps turn to moans as the filthy kiss previews what comes next. Soon his lips are trailing down your delicate neck, over your sensitive tan nipples that Max swirls his skilled tongue around, murmuring that your tits were so goddamn pretty as his large hands squeeze the juicy flesh. You’re tangling your fingers in his soft hair as he teasingly sucks on your hardened nubs, arching into his mouth and tossing your head back.

And his wet kisses move lower, over your thick hips, and then he’s blowing softly over your exposed dripping pussy, holding your soft thighs open with a strong grip. Then he’s leaving slow licks up your dripping slit with a broad swipe as he chuckles that he’d been dreaming about this, too.

It’s all too much for you and you’re cumming all over his wicked tongue, and then his wide fingers, and then - once you beg for it and make his ears go pink from hearing you moan Maxie - you also cum all over his thick cock. It’s just as pretty and swollen as you’d fantasied about, splitting you open in a way no man had ever been able to before. You’re screaming and squirting around it, eyes rolling back at the mind blowing pleasure you’re finally recieving.

He kisses you sweetly after you both have had your fill of multiple rounds, murmuring how good you’d been for him, how much he loved it, loved you. You blush under the praise and fall asleep on his broad chest, still lying there on the outdoor settee and enjoying the warmth of his muscled arms protecting you from the cool night’s breeze.

And when morning comes you’re suddenly anxious that it was just a one time thing, that he would tell you he disliked it, that he should never have slept with Carlos’ sister. But to your delight it it seems Max had been holding back on how much he’d been falling for you too. He shows you just how much after the two of you go for a swim in the azure seawater and eat a lazy brunch by the pool. He’s raking his heated gaze shamelessly over your juicy ass, droplets still drying off as you lounge on the sunbed in a little bikini. You’ve barely finished your mango smoothie when he’s yanking the knots and palming greedily with his large hands. Fuck, do you know how many times I thought about ripping open those tight dresses of yours and doing this?

You smirk rather smugly and turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, where he’s begun sliding his raging erection along your bouncy cheeks, your soft flesh enveloping the hard length. Why do you think I wore them? You respond teasingly. Definitely not what I normally wear to a client meeting.

He growls, speeding up his thrusts along your fat cheeks and delivering harsh smack to your ass as punishment for your seductive techniques. You squeal excitedly from the tingles shooting to your clit from his forceful slap. You jiggle your hips tantalisingly, pushing back on him and he licks his lips before delivering more harsh smacks to your quickly reddening ass. You moan wantonly, ass lifted up in the air and your blushing face buried deep in a cushion when he splatters his cum all over your back, coating your caramel skin.

You swipe a finger through it to teasingly lick it up, sultrily commented on how tasty his cum was. His eyes widen at your unexpected dirty words, blood rushing to his cock again. And then you’re walking off to go prep dinner ingredients, letting him enjoy the view of your bouncing bum and leaving him on edge. He’d certainly made you wait, after all. A Sainz was nothing if not petty when they wanted to be. You play nice that afternoon, before springing your attack in the evening by slyly asking him if he’d teach you how to please him with your mouth next?

He’d choked on his empanada, his expression cutely flustered at the pleasurable idea. You’d fluttered your lashes and said please, Maxie, I want to make you feel good like you did to me last night and he was a goner when he looked into your brown doe eyes. So he taught you, his fingers threading through your pretty curls as you look up adoringly at him from where you kneeled. He quickly realised that although your eyes looked wide and innocent, your sweet mouth was anything but.

Safe to say, when your family finally joined you later on and took one look at how their princessa had ensared a 6 foot Dutch millionaire who followed her around like a lovesick puppy, you eared a new nickname. El tentadora de Monaco. You’d giggled from your seat in Max’s warm lap, ignoring the bewildered gaze of the idiota Carlos as even your father had given the new couple his blessing. The temptress of Monaco had a nice ring to it, sí?

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed anon!! As always lmk what you think and feel free to send more requests!!

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x you #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #18+ mdni #carlos sainz

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

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✎ sweet felicity

- gojo satoru x reader

what do you get the man who already has everything for his birthday?

genre: teeth-rotting fluff and comfort because no—i can't make his birthday angsty ok

note: so this is my entry for the birthday boy <3 this takes place immediately after daddy-to-be, where the first years are still yuta, maki, panda and toge

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Honestly? Satoru wondered about it a lot these days.

He already has everything he wanted—unparalleled cursed technique, a fairly happy life, a pretty wife, and just recently, a kid on the way.

But his birthday was in a week and it was as clear as a day that you were planning something for him.

“Come on, you can't fool me, sweets.”

He noticed that you had started waking up earlier than usual. Initially, he thought it was due to your morning sickness, but it turned out you were sneaking away to another room for an hour or two and only came out when it was around breakfast time.

Did you really think he wouldn't catch on? Satoru found himself torn between concern and amusement. He didn't want you to strain yourself—especially after your recent fainting spells—and yet a part of him was over the moon by the fact that you did it for him.

His eyes crinkled, twinkling with affection. “You're planning something for my birthday in the mornings lately. That's sweet, but you don't have to, really.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you so sure that it's for your birthday? I never said anything."

"Well, what else could it be? Unless you're cheating on me at six in the morning—"

"I have your spawn inside me, Gojo Satoru—"

"Don't call it ‘spawn’!" Satoru interjected with a theatrical gasp. "It's our very own little munchkin! Our love! Love!"

This was so ridiculous and you couldn't help yourself from giggling. And seeing you like that softened something inside him.

"Really, don't push yourself too hard," he said with a pout, resigned. "You need lots and lots of sleep."

"I'm not a baby, Satoru."

"Half of you is, so it makes you one!"

He was dramatic, but it was his own way to care because your husband was just wired that way.

You sighed, relenting. “Okay, okay… I know my limits. I will stop when I don't feel well, yeah? Besides, I won't have time to do it except in the mornings because I still have classes to teach.” It seemed like he wasn’t satisfied with your answer so you added, “Just so you know, it's something I enjoy too.”

"Hmph," Satoru huffed, eyeing you petulantly. "It'd better be good, or I'll spank you."

If it were physically possible for your eyes to roll a full 360 degrees into the back of your head and back, they definitely would have. "Oh, you will adore it, I promise."

Well, it wasn't a part of the plan, but now that he had asked for it, you'd definitely add a twist in his gift...

Satoru connected the dots instantly when he saw yarn and needles—what else were you doing aside from knitting?

His sweet wife, who woke up early just to make a handmade gift for his birthday—ahh, his heart could've burst. It was so cute and so you, the warmhearted being that you were.

He would go back early today, he decided, as he strolled the halls of the Jujutsu High with a cheerful tune. You were certainly waiting back at home and he would shower you with love and praise just for your efforts alone these past few days.

And so, he would have never expected that when he received a call from Nanami that afternoon, his world would utterly shatter in the most terrifying way.

“Gojo-san, please, you must come back.” Nanami was always steadfast even in the direst situations. And yet, now he was breathing hard, and panicking. “Something happened. You must go back to your residence—”

In that moment all he could think of was you and his baby. His entire world. Were you hurt?

He didn’t dwell on it—or rather, he couldn’t. His fingers went to rip his blindfold off as a sense of exponential dread creeped in and threatened to engulf him whole—a very, very strange, unfamiliar feeling to him—and he teleported back to his haven in a blink of an eye.

He had been ready to unleash hell, to see you lying on your own pool of blood, or anything. No, that was something he could never be ready for, but he would somehow make it right—

“Ooh, there he is!”

“Already?!”

“Nevermind—”

—and suddenly, he was swept into a whirlwind of confusion and commotion.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GOJO-SENSEI!”

Today is December 7.

It took a while for Satoru to discern everything, with his pulsating heartbeats and the rush of emotions that overwhelmed him. His eyes darted from each and every face who were suddenly in his house, searching for yours—

“Satoru!” you greeted him from behind Nanami, radiantly beaming, and only then could he finally breathe. You are safe—you’re well—

You had meant for it as a joke, a little payback for all the grievances he had caused you—and let’s not forget, Nanami—but you immediately regretted it when you had a look over the absolute terror in his heavenly blue eyes that you loved so much.

You had seen this once, before, when he proposed to you.

“Satoru.” You waltzed towards him, gently cradling his stunned face in your hands. “Hey,” you coaxed him with an apologetic smile, reassuring him of your presence.

Satoru looked at you squarely in the eyes, and as he fully took in the sight of you, he let out a shuddering breath and pulled you close with a firm arm around your waist and and the other around your back.

“You evil woman,” he murmured in your ears, and you could feel the slight tremble of his body and the way his heart was still thumping wildly inside his sturdy chest, which made you feel even more sorry.

“Whoa, that got you good, huh?” Panda remarked with a bemused grin.

“As expected,” Megumi snorted.

“Salmon! Salmon!”

“Ehh, that’s actually sweet…” Maki noted thoughtfully. “I would have never expected him to drop everything that fast just to go back here only after a suspicious phone call—”

“Of course he would!” Yuta rebuked with pride. “It’s his wife after all! And Nanami-san truly did a really convincing job at it!”

Nanami. Satoru casted a stern glare toward his junior, while the man in question awkwardly coughed. How did you even involve him in this?

Nah, he would deal with him later.

Despite the scare that got him good, your little plan commenced as it should. The closest of his friends and students were there to throw him this silly birthday party, as well as shower him with a plethora of gifts.

You had managed to round up his students to write birthday wishes for him in a scrap book filled with various photographs throughout the past year. This is sweet, he thought.

And one note tugged at his heartstrings the most:

Thank you, sensei, for everything — Yuta.

If anything he did ever made an impact on those young sorcerers, then Satoru was wholeheartedly glad. He wanted them to grow and made their own path in this unforgiving world, and their gratitude stirred a profound sense of relief within him.

“Here.” He was genuinely surprised when Megumi abruptly pushed a long, thin box toward him next, shyly averting his gaze. “Happy birthday.”

A fountain pen. It must have costed him some. It was strange, but Satoru felt oddly emotional.

The kid was barely six when he first approached him. He was prickly and sour and definitely wasn't welcoming. And then, he had matured right before his eyes. Satoru couldn’t help ruffling his hair vigorously and snickered, disregarding the scowl directed his way.

Nanami extended his well-wishes, and even though he still had a score to settle with him later, he was happy to have him here. Shoko couldn’t come but she left you with a recorded message.

“Happy birthday, Gojo, idiot,” Shoko was grinning in the video you played. “I'm sorry I can't be there, but my wish is for you to tone down your antics. We could all use a bit less of that.”

The two remaining reminders of the bluest spring in his life. Something pricked his heart at the stark reminder that they were not whole—and if only that someone was here, they would—but the fact that these two thought of him was enough.

And now, at last, it was time for your gift. Satoru thought he knew what it was, but as he carefully opened the ivory box, a profound sense of warmth still washed over him.

Mittens, with the color of freshly fallen snow, lay in the box—two pairs in total. One was remarkably tiny, seemingly tailored for a baby, while the other was notably larger, undoubtedly meant for him.

You. Him. The baby. By this time next year, there would be three of you. The happy picture of all of you together in near future was a gift in and of itself. You two are his everything.

Satoru went by his instincts and grasped your arm, crashing his lips against yours ardently, beaming with the broadest grin. He paid no heed to the squeals and disapproving glances from everyone around, as he felt entitled to do so—declaring his love boldly so you would know… that he was utterly, hopelessly in love with you.

That he was grateful for you in this otherwise dreary life.

And that if there were any other lives he might live after this ended... then he hoped the heavens would always bring you back to him—and for you to always choose him just like this, no matter what.

Epilogue

“So you really did call Nanami at six in the morning.”

Later that night, just before bed, your husband was still holding a grudge on you for frightening him back in the day, evident by the permanent purse of his lips.

You shrugged, buttoning the last button of your sleepwear. “I did… but it’s for greater purpose, so… yeah.”

“I can’t stand this. I’m suing you for collateral damage.”

You almost laughed. “Pffft—what? What damage—”

“My fragile heart! You can’t do that to me and expect I won’t charge you!”

“Well…” You noted with a meaningful smile. You couldn’t say you didn’t expect this, because Satoru always got pouty whenever he was irked in one way or another, and so in advance, you had actually been prepared for this.

You caught him off guard when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers teasing his undercut. It was a nice change of pace, seeing the faint blush coloring his cheeks as he steadied you by your waist.

“…what if I say… I still have one present left for you?”

So, what did you get a man who already has everything for his birthday?

Your whole heart, of course.

And if you were in the mood for an additional surprise, a brand new pair of lacy lingerie you had under your pajamas might do the trick.

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year ago

Text

— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

#bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #writing tag #waah. i love them all

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ddarker-dreams · 28 days ago

Note

any sunday crumbs for us? 😽

He's doing it again.

If you were conscious during a brain surgery, this is what it'd feel like, you think. The general anesthesia would render you immobile and deny your body the ability to process what it's being subjected to. But on some level, you would know. The metal implements poking and prodding and pulverizing defenses never intended to be breached.

Get out, get out, get out!

Squeezing your eyes shut, you fixate on memories that tie your intestines into knots. Your first love's puzzlement over who you were. The looming threat that the same fate could befall others you care for. How not even your mind is a haven in this padlocked 'paradise.'

The pressure in your head recedes.

"... You're upset," his voice is as soft and smooth as velvet. "It's understandable. Still... you should be able to tell. There's no malice behind my tuning — only consideration for your wellbeing."

You rub your temples, still throbbing from his abrupt departure. Even a perfectionist like Sunday wavers when confronted with the sheer depth of your loathing.

"A lie is a lie, no matter how pretty you spin in," you reply. "I think... I'm supposed to be mad at you. I am mad at you, I just can't remember why."

You turn to face him and smile wryly. "That's clever. Pulling the problem up from the roots instead of trimming it down. You learned from last time, huh?"

"Easing your resentment isn't solely for my sake," Sunday deflects your accusation. His countenance is solemn, like he's bearing a burden you couldn't begin to understand. "You're torturing yourself to make a point. If you'd just let me—"

"—Oh no, you don't get to sound fed up," you march up to where he stands and jut your pointer finger against his chest. "Acting all— righteous and like... like some kind of a martyr! I'm so sorry I'm not tripping over myself to thank you for fucking around with my head!"

You're trembling with fury, every vein in your body boiling. His countenance is neutral, if not a touch stern, but he allows you your cathartic outburst. Eventually, you pull your hand back, slumping over from exhaustion.

It's then that you throw in an additional jab for good measure.

"No matter what you do, or how many times you do it... I'll always find a new reason to hate you."

Sunday's eyes gleam as he replies:

"And I'll be here all the same."

#BIRD BOY REPORTING FOR DUTY !!!#yandere sunday x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere x reader #my stuff #answered #Anonymous

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awearywritersworld · 1 year ago

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"took you long enough"

gojo satoru x reader summary: when you ask your best friend to meet the guy you've been seeing, things don't go quite as planned. w/c: 3.2k tags/warnings: angst to smut with a fluffy ending. 18+. friends to lovers. jealous gojo. curse words. drinking. gojo shoves ur love interest. he's just kind of an ass to him in general. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: i don't often write smut, but i kinda got carried away.. carpe diem, i say masterlist

gojo is tired of hearing you ramble on about the new guy you've been seeing. he barely even glances at your phone screen when you try to show him a picture you took together.

"you're way out of his league," he states dryly.

"hardly," you scoff. "men don't exactly line up for me like women do for you."

it'd be a lie to claim you didn't have a thing for gojo at one point, but you learned a long time ago that he isn't interested in you that way. it wasn't hard to tell, given his parade of hookups and the occasional two week relationship. you've gotten over it though... for the most part, anyway.

he rolls his eyes. "i assure you that's only because you're shy, princess."

"okay, so you should be rejoicing that your best friend finally landed herself a boyfriend—"

"boyfriend?"

"well.. it's not official yet, but i think he's going to ask me soon!"

your apparent enthusiasm at the prospect leaves a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. of course, it's only because he wants the best for you and this guy certainly isn't it. "you've gone on like two dates."

"'toru, i've been seeing him for almost a month!" when he doesn't respond, you continue speaking. "so... that's why i was sort of hoping you'd come out with us tonight."

he looks at you increduously, "i am not third wheeling."

"you won't be!" you assure. "shoko and kento said they'd come. i just want you to meet him because you're really important to me and i actually think this could go somewhere—"

"alright, alright," he acquiesces, albeit begrudgingly. he's never been able to say no to you.

you squeal with excitement, throwing your arms around his neck in a brief hug. "i can't wait! we're all meeting at seven, i'll text you the address."

after a quick kiss to his cheek, you gather your things, all but running out the door. you weren't going to give him a chance to change his mind.

he stares after you wordlessly, running a hand through his hair while an unfamiliar tightness overcomes his chest.

when gojo enters the bar, he spots you right away despite the sizable crowd. as he makes his way toward your group, he can't help but notice how pretty you look in your little dress. in fact, you'd look absolutely perfect if it weren't for the fact you have another man's arm around your waist.

wait, what?

your laugh rings out across the room and judging by the smirk on shoko's face, he can tell she's said something you find unreasonably funny. once you spot him, your face lights up and you pull away from your almost boyfriend to give gojo a hug, something that brings him a sense of satisfaction.

"hey, sweetheart," he greets loud enough that the other man can hear. "who's this?"

"satoru, this is shinya!" you're beaming at him expectantly, so gojo has no choice but to extend his hand.

"hey, man." shinya shakes it firmly. "it's great to meet you. my girl's told me a lot about you."

gojo's eye twitches and he decides almost immediately that he finds shinya utterly insufferable. his voice is grating and he's too short and didn't you say you prefer guys with lighter hair—

"nice to meet you, too," gojo responds cooly. "i'm always happy to meet one of her friends."

nanami and shoko share a knowing look, more than prepared to break out their hypothetical popcorn. and boy, is this as good an occasion as any.

the strongest sorcerer isn't one to indulge in liquor, but how can he refrain when he has to be in the same room as shinya? each time he touches you, looks in your direction, calls you some sickening pet name— whenever he breathes in your general vicinity, really— gojo brings his drink up to his lips.

everyone else seems to be getting along, but unfortunately, he grows increasingly snarky with each glass he empties.

shinya asks what you'd like when he goes up for another round and it's 'oh, you don't know her favorite drink? well, i guess you're not as close as we are.'

shinya pulls your chair out for you and it's 'wow, you really got yourself a gentleman, princess.'

shinya mentions that he's fairly well versed in martial arts and it's 'really? maybe we should go out back and spar. i think it'd be fun.'

nanami steps in then, not entirely convinced gojo would hesitate before laying him out. "you can put the measuring tape away, idiot."

shinya is being an impressively good sport, but your anxiety has you emptying glasses in a hasty manner, too. you have no idea what's going on with gojo. you understand that he can be abrasive at times and that communication definitely isn't his strong suit, but his behavior is just absurd. you force an awkward laugh at nanami's comment.

"not that i'm not having, um, a great time and all!" you hiccup before continuing. "but i'd really like to dance. c'mon shinya!"

nanami and shoko wind up joining you both, which comes as a surprise. neither of them are exactly the partying type (not that you are either), but you're happy to see them having fun. honestly, you can't remember the last time either of them let loose.

you wonder if they also just wanted to escape gojo's snide remarks. now that they aren't ringing in your ear every other minute, your nerves have certainly calmed down a bit. well, until—

"so you do know that he's totally in love with you, right?"

"who?" you question, looking around as if it'd be obvious.

and it is, just not to you.

shinya chuckles. "gojo."

"what?" you bellow, completely dumfounded. "no way! i mean he's not— and i'm not— we're just friends."

"yeah?" he still sounds amused, nodding in gojo's direction. "is that why he looks like that?"

turning toward your table, even you have to admit he looks completely miserable. unbeknownst to you, he's spent the last half hour sending away every woman that approaches him asking to dance. he just isn't in the mood right now. at least, that's what he tells himself.

"er.. he just doesn't get out that much," you try your best to brush it off.

"whatever you say, baby."

you're relieved he doesn't seem terribly bothered by the idea, even if you find it completely implausible. it's true you spend a lot of time together and that you know one another like the back of your hands, but you'd given up any hope of it being more than friendship a long time ago. you'd moved on.

but if that's the case, why did shinya calling you baby suddenly feel so wrong? you convince yourself it must just be the alcohol.

when the four of you finally stumble back to the table, you realize you've missed last call. though it's probably for the best, as the five of you are certainly in for a nasty hangover the following morning.

it's near closing time, but the crowd has hardly thinned out and the music is still beating loudly in your ears. you're going back to jujutsu tech with your friends rather than home with shinya, so you loudly exchange goodbyes over the music as he gets ready to leave.

"i had a really great time tonight," he tells you. "maybe we could go for dinner tomorrow? there's something i've been wanting to ask you."

"okay!" you agree eagerly, eyes shining. "i'll call you in the morning."

gojo feels his stomach drop, his jaw clenching bitterly. he tries to tell himself to relax because this is what you want, but he just can't seem to get his thoughts straight.

shinya leans down, his lips meeting yours sweetly, and it causes white hot anger to flood gojo's body. it all happens so fast, shinya's ripped away from you with astounding force and he staggers backward. you've been struggling to hear over the noise all night, though you make out each word that follows with striking clarity.

"get the fuck away from her!"

gojo stalks off before anyone has time to process what just happened. he's already half way across the room when you come to your senses.

"'toru!" you call out, taking a step in his direction when he doesn't respond. "satoru!"

you take another step but you're stopped when something pulls you back. you look down to find shinya's hand wrapped around your wrist before your gaze turns up to meet his eye. "look, i really like you, but if you go after him, don't bother calling tomorrow."

the ultimatum is simple, but so is your decision. "i'm sorry."

you run off before he can say anything else, shoving your way through the bar patrons, and follow gojo out the door into the cold air of night.

"satoru!" you shout once more, thankful that his pace is slow enough for you to catch up. he turns to face you when you tug on his sleeve.

you nearly shy away from him, his expression something fierce, but the liquor in your system gives you courage. "what the hell was that? you embarrassed me—"

"i don't fucking care," he spits.

he's never taken such a tone with you, so you throw your hands in the air and exhale impatiently. "what do you mean? you should care! you're my friend, aren't you?"

"that's exactly what i mean. you're supposed to be mine," he growls.

you're not sure how it happens, but the next thing you know, his lips are crashing into yours, your teeth knocking together with the force. his hands paw at your hips, pulling your body against his greedily.

"i can't believe," he mumbles against your lips, "you wasted your time," his hands find your hair, tugging your head back and revealing your neck, "with that fucking loser."

once he's finished speaking, his lips trail across your jaw, landing just below your ear. your eyes flutter open and you're suddenly very aware that you're standing in the middle of a public sidewalk.

"'toru," your voice is breathy, even though you're trying desperately to keep it together. "there are people—"

he pulls away heatedly, his eyes narrowed. "you didn't care when he kissed you in front of everyone."

"yeah, but that was just a peck," you reason, though if he keeps this up, you're worried you might lose your resolve.

"tch, i guess you're right." the familiar sensation of warping through space and time sweeps through your body for a few seconds before your feet meet solid ground again. you don't need to look around to know you're in his bedroom. "we're going to do a lot more than that tonight."

your stomach flips at his words, heat rushing to your core. his lips find your neck once more, leaving sloppy kisses along your skin. "that's what you want right? for me to show you who you belong to?"

you nod weakly, feeling as if you're in a daze.

"ah, ah. use your words, sweetheart."

"yes— ah—" he sucks on the spot just above your collarbone before nipping the delicate skin there. "yes, 'toru."

"then get on the bed," he orders lowly.

and who are you to disobey? you can't honestly say you haven't been dreaming of this for years. his blanket feels cool to the touch, making you realize suddenly how much your skin is already burning with desire.

he kneels beside the bed, wasting no time before pushing up your dress and pulling your legs apart. you see his shoulders fall as he exhales harshly at the sight. his eyes flutter shut when he presses a kiss to your core over the tiny cotton panties you decided to wear.

he's rudely reminded of the possibility that you may have put them on with another man in mind.

"did you let him fuck you?" he interrogates. his eyes don't leave yours as he begins placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh.

"n-no!" it's almost embarrassing how vehemently you deny it, but the man between your legs takes great pleasure in your response.

"mm, knew you were a good girl."

he hooks a finger beneath your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. you buck your hips up once he throws them off to the side.

"feeling eager, princess?" he taunts, his breath fanning across your center.

you nod, your legs shaking with anticipation, before remembering what he said about using your words. "please, 'toru. need you so bad."

he can't possibly deny you, not when you beg for him so sweetly. he presses a soft kiss to your swollen bud before flattening his tongue against it, drawing circles there. he groans when your slickness coat his chin.

you whine when his eyes shift up to meet yours and push yourself against him even further. he chuckles against your skin, but truth be told, he's just as eager as you are. he slips one long finger inside of you, relishing in how easily you take it.

"oh—" you cry out as he adds another finger, his tongue pressing against you just a little harder.

his other hand is gripping your thigh roughly, the flesh spilling between his fingers. one of your arms is supporting your weight, but the other reaches out, your fingers threading through his hair.

you're panting now, tugging on his white locks in pleasure. he moans in response and the way your walls are clenching around him lets him know you're close. "c'mon baby, cum for me."

that's all it takes for you to unravel, his name falling from your lips over and over. he doesn't stop until he's sure you've come down from your high.

"you tasted so perfect," he tells you, unbuckling his pants in a hurry and shoving them down his legs.

his shirt and boxers follow quickly thereafter, so you pull your dress over your head. you can't tear your eyes away from his cock, it's long and thick and pretty.

he pushes you back against the bed and crawls on top of you, but then he just stares down at your face. just as you begin to wonder if something is wrong—

"you're so fucking beautiful. have i ever told you that?"

your mind reels for an answer, but you don't have to worry about it for long, as his lips capture yours. you can taste yourself on his tongue

"tell me what you want," he murmurs against your lips as he moves his cock along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

"need you, 'toru. p-please, i need you to fuck me."

he smiles against your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside slowly. he leans back to find that your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are parted in bliss. he's determine to seer the image into his mind forever.

splitting you open is absolute ecstasy, the noises he's making are proof enough of that. "fuck, princess. fuck."

he nearly whimpers when he bottoms out. "god, you feel so perfect. i could stay in this pussy forever."

your legs wrap around his waist once he begins to pump in and out. "never felt so full, 'toru. it feels s'good."

he shudders at your words and laces his fingers with yours, sweat beading on his forehead as he picks up his pace. his head dips down, his teeth nipping the skin of your neck aggressively.

"p-people are gonna see—"

"i want them to," he rumbles. "want everyone to know how good i made this tight little pussy feel."

you can't argue with him, not when this is the best anyone's ever made you feel. his head shifts even lower, his tongue moving along your nipples in a way that has your back arching off the bed.

he uses the opportunity to snake an arm beneath your lower back, holding your body against himself firmly. the new angle has you mewling his name in the most sinful way.

"you're takin' me so well. like you were made for this cock."

your head's lolling to the side as you fall to pieces beneath him and he can feel himself getting close. "look at me when i fuck you, baby."

you do as he asks, his hips stuttering when he sees the tears of pleasure swimming in your eyes. "you're mine, aren't you? tell me you're mine."

your pussy clenches around his cock so tight it's almost painful. "i'm yours, 'toru. all yours."

"fuck, that's my good girl. gonna cum for me again, hm?"

you nod up at him meekly, too far gone for words, but he doesn't seem to mind this time.

"'i'm close too, sweetheart." his fingers reach down to rub circles on your clit, eliciting a throaty moan from you.

you feel your stomach tighten and you're nearly there, but you don't go over the edge until he begs, "can i fill you up? want to so bad."

you can't find the strength to respond, so you hope the way you tighten your legs around his waist and claw at his back is answer enough.

your head rolls to the side once more, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him. "please, baby. wanna see you when i cum—"

he hums your name through a choked moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reaches his own high. he collapses on top of you, laying there for a moment before pulling out and rolling onto his back beside you.

no words are shared, both of you trying to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. the silence gives your mind a chance to wander, which is never a good thing.

you consider the fact that gojo's never kept a girl around for more than a week or two— that this probably meant way more to you than it did to him. you sit up feeling stupid and wrap your arms around your chest.

you look around the room in search of your panties, his cum running down your thighs when you stand up to grab them. it's not until you pull them up your legs that he opens his eyes. he props himself up on his elbow, furrowing his eyebrows when you pick up your dress.

"what are you doing?" he asks curiously.

"well, i figured i should go back to my room—"

"what, are you crazy?" he gawks at you. "get your ass back in this bed."

you approach him shyly, your apprehension clear to him. "i mean, you can if you want, but why would you go back to your room?"

"i just didn't know if you... you know.."

"no, i don't know." if you knew him any less, you might think he was intent on torturing you, but it's clear to you that he's genuinely confused.

you sigh. "i just didn't know what this meant for us."

"baby, i didn't think i could make it any more clear." he sits up to grab you by the wrist, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. "i'm all yours, so you're stuck with me." he tries to mask the nervousness in his voice when he asks, "is that okay with you?"

you nod, hiding your face in his neck. "took you long enough."

#m!writes!smut #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk smut

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