#it would be something they’d notice for sure | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thebestofoneshots · 2 days ago

Text

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.6 K Warnings: SMUT. Threesome. Dry humping, hand job (male and female reciving), P in V, endless teasing. / Remus' first time with Vix and Siri. Consent is Sexy. Prompt: Finally a quiet time for the three of them. Proofread by sweet @girlwihkaleidoscopeeyes This chapter can be read as a one-shot

Chapter 74: Las Palabras de Amor

You rolled on your side, sitting on your shins so you were now looking at Sirius instead of leaning on him, your head tilted slightly to the side as you eyed Remus. You locked eyes; his, more golden than brown at this point, seemed to sparkle as you stared at each other.

It was almost as if you were in potions, silently communicating to each other exactly what you’d be doing next. By the time you turned back to look at Sirius, he was looking at you with a mix of nervousness and excitement, Adam’s apple bobbing as the two of you veered closer, his breathing short.

He’d become prey as both you and Remus moved as gracefully and decisively as if Moony or Vixen would when stalking each other in a game. It didn’t matter that he was bigger than you or that he, as Padfoot, could kind of control Moony. At that point, Sirius didn’t even feel canine, he’d turned into a rabbit or a baby deer, facing two beasts that seemed ready to devour him. He wasn’t sure he wanted anything more than that.

You leaned a little closer, even if you felt slightly exposed due to the lack of fabric covering your top half. There was a confidence in your movements that you weren’t exactly sure how you’d gotten. Both of your hands travelled to Sirius’ jaw while Moony’s moved to his hips. You allowed your fingers to brush down from there to his neck, gently tracing his Adam’s apple as you went down, stopping right on the second button of his shirt. As you started unbuttoning, Remus brushed his hands over Sirius’ abdomen – oh, how he’d dreamed of being able to do something like that – locating the last button of the shirt and working on it with a patience that was as maddening as it was exciting.

The pads of your fingers on Sirius’ skin felt like burning every time they brushed against it, making him crave more. He almost felt bad for teasing you so much earlier, but the wait was making him infinitely more excited for what was to come, whatever it might be, whatever it was that you and Moony told each other with that long look from earlier.

Your hands connected with Remus halfway through the shirt; he undid the last button as you allowed your palms to rest over Sirius’ torso, feeling how warm it was against your hands and feeling a slight chill run down your spine. Was the window still open? You’d been so distracted that you hadn’t even noticed the small snowflakes slipping in from the window and melting against the warm stone. Not that you’d care to close it, but the chill got a reaction either way, voluntarily or not, making your breasts perk up again. Sirius bit his bottom lip, trying to suppress a groan and failing, eyes locked on your breasts.

“Something’s distracting him,” Remus said with a smile, eyeing your erect nipples for a second before focusing back on Sirius’ shirt; if he stared at you any longer, he’d become just as distracted.

“I noticed,” you replied with a smirk, allowing your nails to gently brush against his torso as you pulled the shirt to the sides. Both you and Remus worked together to remove Sirius’ shirt completely, Remus leaning in to press a short wet kiss against his neck before letting him fall back on the mattress. “Can’t blame him for it either.”

You smiled, not missing the lascivious look Remus had given you as he kissed the other boy’s neck. You blushed, both aroused and shy; you’d never had two of the hottest people you knew stare at you with such hunger. As if they’d been famished. You swallowed, taking a deep breath, your chest rising and falling gently before leaning in to kiss Sirius’ neck, knowing Remus would appreciate the fact that he’d get his lips.

For a second, you stared at the two of them kissing, feeling even wetter than before just from the sight. Who would have thought I’d be into that? You wondered as you reached for Sirius’ crotch again. This time you weren’t planning to let him turn you around before he was completely speechless (not that he had much to say now that both you and Remus were onto him).

While you slid your fingers in between yours and Sirius’ bodies, the back of your hand brushed against Remus’ crotch, earning a soft groan from him. “Sorry,” you mumbled as you continued on your way down.

“Never be sorry about something like this,” he retorted with a sly smile directed your way before he went back to kissing Sirius.

You managed to unclasp Sirius’ trousers with one hand and pulled them down with the help of a slightly airy and aroused Remus. Now we’re even, you thought, once they were both shirtless and in just their boxers. You barely noticed Sirius’ cock straining against the soft fabric of his underwear before you’d dug your hand inside.

“Mhmhmh!” Sirius moaned into Remus’ kiss.

Remus smiled, pulling apart for a second just to be able to see Sirius’ face as if he couldn’t quite believe this was really happening: he really was kissing Sirius! You were right there next to the two of them, watching, kissing, feeling, enjoying it as much as he was, enjoying it as much as Sirius was.

Remus really should have known; he should have known that the two of you wanted him as much as he wanted you – since the Hallowe’en party when you were dancing together, and he thought he was in heaven. He should have realised it then, but what really mattered was that he knew now.

And there was nothing more exhilarating than being wanted, knowing that he was wanted, and that he was part of you as much as you were a part of him. Even beyond the sex and the kisses, there was a connection so deeply rooted that no poison, no cruel hand and no force of nature could tear them asunder. And he loved it, he loved every bit of it. From Sirius’ soft lips, and his blushed face to your soft – and slightly desperate – breaths.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told Sirius as he stared into his eyes. Sirius smirked, and you knew he was about to retort with something clever, destroying the adorable moment Remus had just created, so you decided to stop him: you reached inside his pants, wrapped your hand around his cock, and pumped. Whatever Sirius was going to say got caught up in his throat, and instead came one of those lewd moans of his.

He threw you a withering look, and you gave him an innocent shrug in return, “You wanted to say something, Pups?”

He opened his mouth to speak again, and you repeated the action, causing him to close his lips with barely enough wherewithal to hold his grunt. You just smiled, raising one of your eyebrows at him before turning to Remus, who was looking at you with a rather impish face.

“He wasn’t joking when he said you were a tease.”

“No idea what you’re talking about, Rem,” you said, angling your arm so it would brush against his cock again, now getting a moan out of him.

“Luv, that’s just–” Remus started.

You pumped again, making sure your hand was still brushing against Remus, “Suck it up,” you responded with a smile. You’d been teased by both boys earlier; they deserved to be teased in an equal amount.

Remus groaned and leaned into you, pressing his lips against your neck with a desperate grunt while sucking moderately, like he’d seen Sirius do to tease you in public. And that was the effect he was trying to get; he just didn’t expect the stifled moan he’d get from you, just from a little sucking near your collarbone. Either way, that wasn’t going to stop your resolve, so you continued pumping Sirius, finding a steady rhythm that had him mumbling incoherencies along with a few profanities, while Remus groaned audibly (from your hand brushing against his crotch), alternating between kissing Sirius’ lips and your neck, in retaliation from your incessant teasing.

Sirius’s chest heaved up and down, breath ragged from how worked up he was from the kisses and the touches, and of course, your hand that seemed a little too confident with what it was doing. How quickly had you learned to make him feel so heavenly after that one time in the fae pool.

Remus’ hand was lying on Sirius’ torso when he gently slid it towards your arm, allowing it to brush from your shoulder to your elbows and then down to your wrist; the same wrist he could feel moving on Sirius’ cock, and he was tempted to wrap his own fingers around yours. But there was still some uncertainty in him, a fear of being rejected, of his touches scaring Sirius instead of pleasing him. So he decided to keep his hand there, gently wrapped around your wrist only, his fingers brushing against your skin in a soft, almost repetitive motion as he sighed.

“Just ask him, Rem,” you said when you noticed his indecisive hold, constantly inching closer to your fisted hand and then pulling back.

“No– it’s not–”

“Remus would like to touch you,” you said instead, perhaps a bit too bluntly since Remus glared, as if you had outed him. “Are you okay with that?” you added more softly, slowing down your pace to get Sirius to focus.

“Of course,” Sirius retorted with a grin, leaning up and pulling Remus’ towards his lips. “You may touch me, wherever and whenever you want, darling,” he added in between kisses. You smiled, feeling Remus’ hand slowly creep around yours, his fingers wrapping completely around your own and helping you pump. Then you slid your hand off gently, allowing his alone to replace it. Remus’ grip was much firmer than yours. “Fuck,” Sirius moaned as the other boy sighed. He could hardly fathom what he was doing – and who he was doing it to – and yet he kept moving his hand, gently pumping as his breath became more ragged.

Remus’ bigger hand made Sirius feel much smaller, but it covered more ground as it moved, and when he flicked his thumb up to gently rub around his tip, Sirius was a goner. Remus knew exactly what he was doing.

You raised one of your eyebrows, impressed at how quickly Remus had undone Sirius, and looked down at his hand with curiosity, wondering if you could learn from his technique – and then realising how ridiculous the thought was. Still, the competitive side of you wanted to be just as good, so you stared, moving your hand to Sirius’ inner thigh and rubbing softly, your nails sometimes grazing his skin and causing him to shiver.

Remus pumped again and turned to you. “Come ‘ere, Little Witch,” he said, leaning down to kiss you as he twisted his hand, earning a grunt from Sirius, whose hips started to bump up towards his hand in an uncontrolled motion.

“Shit, wait, I think I’m going to–”

“It’s okay,” Remus said, his teeth gently biting your bottom lip as he pulled from you and turned his eyes back to Sirius. “I’ll catch it,” he added, his thumb softly brushing against his tip. “Go ahead, Pads, make a mess.”

“Fuck,” Sirius replied, breathing hard as the first spurt of cum left his cock. Remus caught it with ease, and continued moving his hand.

“You’re doing amazing, Luv,” he said, voice low and slightly just raspy enough to make both yours and Sirius’ mind reel. He was patient, looking at his bright eyes as he continued to milk him to completion, until he finally went soft in his hand.

Sirius’ head was thrown back on the pillow as he tried to steady his breathing. “Fuck, that was–” he breathed, “You were–” another breath, “–We should have done this ages ago.”

You laughed, leaning up on your elbow to look at him better. His face was flushed, lips red and swollen and gaze weary, as if he was still lost in the pleasure you had both given him. You tilted your head to the side and smiled, gently moving your hand towards his face and pulling some of the sweat-stuck curls from his cheek. Sirius really was a sight to behold. As angelic as he was devious, an absolute dream come true. “Gorgeous, isn’t he?” you smiled.

“Absolutely,” Remus responded, voice low as he turned to you, gaze still as hungry as the one he used to regard Sirius earlier. “And so are you, lovely.” He brought his cum stained hand towards his own boxers, and sighed when he felt the warm sticky substance against his own cock. There was something unfathomably lecherous about having Sirius’ cum around himself, it made his own cock twitch and spurt out a bit of precum. “Little Witch, would you mind if I stare at you shamelessly while I finish myself off?” he asked as he stared at your breasts and pumped himself once.

You narrowed your eyes at him, while the idea of just being watched was tempting, you weren’t planning on letting him finish by himself. Not if you and Sirius could help it – once he’d recovered, at least.

“Actually, I do mind,” you responded, and Remus seemed taken aback, his grip around his cock faltering, his lower abdomen burning in protest due to the lack of friction.

“What?” he managed to say.

“Well, I don’t mind you looking,” you clarified and then smiled. “I mind the fact that you won’t let me take part,” you leaned towards him; Sirius placed a hand on your back and pushed encouragingly, even as drained as he was.

“I just thought you might be tired,” Remus said, “that you wouldn’t want–”

“Don’t make assumptions, Rem,” you said, a hand on his shoulder while you whispered in the most sultry tone you could muster. Your hand moved from there to his collarbone, your fingers gently brushing against his skin before you leaned down and kissed him there. “You may go on,” you added when you realised his hand on his cock still wasn’t moving.

Remus tightened his grip again, grunting pleasurably when he felt you sucking on the side of his neck. Sirius had leaned up a little bit, watching the two of you even if you were shielding Remus almost completely.

“Sorry, quite rude of me,” you chastised yourself once you noticed, playfully eyeing Sirius before turning to Remus again. “How about we give him a better look?” you added, pulling your head back to level it to Remus’ gaze.

Remus seemed confused, about to say something when you leaned down, purposefully tilting yourself towards his lap as you slowly pulled your skirt down, allowing Sirius to get a good view at your rear before sliding it off completely and straightening your back again. “You said you really like it, Pups, didn’t you?” you added before throwing it towards his face.

Sirius smiled as he pulled it down. Remus, who was still trying to process what was happening, turned to you. There was admiration and raw desire in his eyes as he stared at your fully naked body for the first time. Your breasts falling gracefully as you curved your back, your legs bending smoothly, each one of your curves having a softness, plusness, and delicacy to them. “You’re… absolutely perfect,” he whispered, completely enraptured by you. His hand regained its pace around his cock when he felt it twitch in protest at the lack of movement. His motions were almost languid, softly drawing out the pleasure as much as he could, not wanting the moment to end, not wanting either of you to pull apart.

He was definitely not expecting you to jump over his thigh, fast but making sure to press yourself against his leg to let him feel how wet you were, before leaning completely on the side, Remus’ profile and your front now in perfect view of Sirius.

“Better?” you asked him with a sly smirk.

Sirius gave you a daring look.“Yeah, I think so,” he said nonchalantly. “Except maybe–” he took his wand from the nightstand, “– Evanesco,” he whispered, completely vanishing Remus’ boxers.

You blinked in disbelief at his wand skill; performing a spell like that was already quite complicated with an object alone, on a person it made it ridiculously tricky, yet he’d done it with little to no effort while being fucked out and turned on.

“Fucking impressive,” Remus said.

“For sure,” Sirius replied, staring at the other’s cock, which brought you back to the moment in an instant.

You looked down at him. You’d felt how big he was before, but seeing it, tall and proud right in the middle of his legs, was something entirely different. Your hand was on his inner thigh in a second, tracing soft circles before wrapping around his own around his cock. He mumbled your name, almost in a warning tone and you pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “Allow me,” you said as you pressed a kiss to his strong shoulders.

“You don’t have to just because–”

“I want to,” you said, same soft voice, fingers lacing with his as you managed to fill some of the soft skin around his cock in between them. In a move that was almost the same as the one he’d done with Sirius’ cock, your hands switched with each other, and now yours were wrapped around him, Sirius’ sticky cum acting as a lubricant as you started to pump.

“Fuck,” Remus sighed, looking at your hand moving on him, your beautiful face in rapt concentration trying to find just the right up-and-down pattern that had him moaning your name. It didn’t take you too long. And while he absolutely loved the euphoria you were giving him, he still didn’t want it to end. A bed with two of you on it was already heaven. A bed with the two of you, stripped naked, was far beyond it. He, of course, didn’t want to cum down from it.

But your hand was making it almost impossible for him to continue holding back, and when he thought he was about to cum he gripped the sheets tightly, “Little Witch, I think I’m going to–”

You pulled your hand off him before he finished the sentence, allowing your thumb to brush over his tip in a torturous and impossibly teasing manner. The look he gave you was so helpless it was almost comical. Brows furrowed, chest heaving up and down and an incredulous look on his face. Sirius regarded the two of you amusedly, his dick was half hard again.

Remus could barely muster his words as he looked at you, still in disbelief. “To cum?” you asked nonchalantly. “I figured.”

“Then why would you–” he couldn’t finish his sentence, you jumped back towards his lap, legs around his own and closed the gap between your bodies, allowing the tip of his cock to brush against your folds. “Because I want you cumming somewhere else.”

“What?!” he asked, voice a mere squeak.

“She’s taking the potion,” Sirius said, looking at you to confirm. You nodded, and rocked your hips against Remus, pulling your hand down and positioning him, first letting his tip brush over your folds, your breath hitching as it touched your clit.

Remus, who only now seemed to have gathered his wits, blinked a couple of times before placing both hands on your shoulders. “Wait, no, wait!” he said, alarmed as he pushed you back gently. You instantly stopped touching him, looking at him with concern, frowning your brows and searching for his face that seemed alarmed. He looked down on himself and you, so close, he thought.

“What is it?” you asked, confused and slightly upset. He doesn’t want me, a voice in your head seemed to say. That’s ridiculous, he definitely wants you! Another responded.

“I can’t–” he said. “Not without rubbers.”

“Rubbers?” you asked. He nodded towards the pack of condoms still on the floor. “What– Why do you need those?”

“Because of Moony,” he said solemnly.

There was instant understanding in your head, the tension from earlier relinquishing, your shoulders relaxing, apprehension leaving you entirely. You placed your hand around his neck, gently brushing the nape with the pads of your fingers. He seemed to also relax into your touch.

“Rem, Luv. Lycanthropy does not work like that,” you said reassuringly. You finally understood why he insisted on carrying them with him, he was terrified of turning someone into a werewolf.

“You don’t know!” he retorted. There was apprehension and perhaps, a hint of pain or resentment towards himself stuck in his gaze.

“She’s read a whole lot about werewolves though,” Sirius said. “Knows way more than I do; I reckon she knows even more than–”

“You don’t know!” Remus insisted.

“Right,” you said appeasingly. His eyes were golden, but not with pleasure this time around, more like he’d been cornered. You breathed, trying to think of the right way you say it, “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t, but there is no need to rush it. We can wait, ask around, and only go for it when we’re sure. How does that sound?”

Remus seemed to finally breathe again, you saw the tension release his muscles just like it had done with yours earlier and you smiled, leaning closer to him and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Meanwhile,” you smiled, raising your hand and channeling all your energy as you’d practice while flying and pulled the strip of rubbers into your hand. “We can use these…” you said with a raised eyebrow and a suggestive smile. “If you’re still up for it,” you added, although his cock, still standing proud, gave you half the answer.

He laughed, his gaze turning to the side as he bit his lip. Of course he wanted it, he needed it like he needed air and water. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

“You should have known by now, Moony,” Sirius said as he pulled himself a little bit higher on the bed, earning a somewhat better view of both of your faces. The tension from the earlier situation had been enough to snap him from his fucked-out tiredness and fueled him with some much-needed adrenaline. “She’s dating the two of us, even after you played hard to get.”

You straight up laughed at his comment. “Such an idiot,” you mumbled.

Sirius just smiled confidently and leaned close enough to press a kiss to Remus’ shoulder and looked at you through his lashes. “Perhaps, but without your stubbornness, we wouldn’t be here,” he teased further.

“Oh, shut it,” you smiled, playfully trying to push Sirius’ face off of Remus’ shoulder, but he was faster, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to him, causing your folds to smash against Remus’ hard cock again and instantly earning a groan from him.

Sirius bit his lip as he looked down. “Come on, Étoile, I think it’s time to end our poor guy’s suffering.”

You smiled, pulling back to rip one of the rubbers from the strip and giving it to Remus. “I guess he will teach you how to use them in the end,” you added with a teasing grin and Remus’ hands carefully opened the silver package and slowly rolled down the condom around himself.

“Does it feel different?” Sirius asked out of curiosity, not quite thinking.

Before Remus even had time to think of the answer, which you assumed he wouldn’t have, you replied, “We can try later and you tell us.” You turned to Remus and smiled, “Ready?”

He smiled and nodded in return. You breathed, raising yourself a little and grabbing his cock to line it with your entrance. He stared at your hand in his cock, and then at your determined gaze as you accommodated yourself, his breath getting caught in his throat as he braced himself for what was about to happen. Feeling completely unprepared and utterly ready at the same time.

You breathed and slowly lowered yourself on him. Remus’ hands were instantly on your waist, taking away some of the weight from your legs as you slowly sank into him. “You good?” he asked about halfway through. Sirius pressed a quick kiss to his neck as he smiled, his nose and lips still brushing against the other’s skin. Of course, Remus would take the time to ask about your well-being in such a situation, he thought.

“Mhm,” you managed to say with a nod; he could hear the slight strain in your voice, you were adjusting to him. Sirius already suspected there hadn’t been that many times for you before, he’d ask eventually, not out of jealousy, but out of curiosity. As you continued to lower yourself onto Remus’ cock you breathed deeply.

Remus looked like he was trying his hardest not to move. Sirius could easily feel the tension on his shoulders and muscles, the stutter in his breath, the restraint he was enacting to be able to hold back. But he waited nonetheless. You had your head hidden in his neck, and were still breathing rather deeply, Remus was gently brushing his hands on your back now. “Still good?” He asked as he gently turned his head towards you. He couldn’t see your face but you smiled as you clenched around him in response. “Fuck!”

“She just fucking clenched, didn’t she?” Sirius said with a wicked smile, leaning a little bit higher on his shins as he tried to look at the spot where the two of you were joined. He swallowed when he did. He had imagined what that looked like on the fae pool, but seeing it, even if it was Remus’ cock instead of his own, was doing it for him. His hand travelled to his cock, he couldn’t care less if he was going to be sore later.

“Yeah, she– ah!”

“Did it again,” Sirius finished as he bit his lip, his hand already pumping gently as his thumb brushed his tip.

“Thought you might like it,” you said. Remus still couldn’t see your smile, but he sure as hell heard it. You pressed a kiss to his neck, as you started to move, your hips slow and gentle as they moved out and in, and you squeezed.

“Shit,” Remus said as he sighed. “You feel fucking amazing!”

“I bet she does,” Sirius whispered with a smile, thinking of how you felt wrapped around his cock as he continued to touch himself.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you joked as you pressed another wet kiss to his neck.

Remus managed to get conscious enough to look at Sirius with a raised eyebrow. Sirius shrugged in return. “Not so bad?” he said, a playful smile appearing on his lips, despite how overwhelmed he already was. “Can’t leave my girl with that impression, can I?” He asked, eyeing the other boy seconds after.

Sirius seemed to understand whatever it was Remus meant with that comment almost instantly and smiled, the time it took you to react to the exchange was cut short by Remus grabbing your waist and flipping the two of you around, your head landing softly onto a pillow as he laid you down on the bed.

You swallowed as you looked at him, one hand still wrapped around your waist while he used the other to hold himself up. He looked at you with a sly smirk, as if he knew exactly what each ragged breath that came from your delicate lips meant. You looked back at him with parted lips, your heart beating faster as your eyes locked on his, both shining with lust.

“That was hot,” Sirius commented with a smile, “She liked it.”

“I know,” Remus replied with a smile as he pulled his arm from underneath you. “I felt it,” he added with a smile. He was still, looking at you with a teasing grin. As if waiting for you to ask him to move. You held his stare defiantly and clenched. He cursed. “You really are a charming li–” you clenched again and he stopped breathing for a second, biting his lips while he regained his focus. “–Little Witch,” he finished.

“Thought that’s the reason you–” he placed his free hand on your breast, pinching your nipple as he stared straight at you– “call me that,” you finished with a smile.

So playful, Sirius thought as he looked at the two of you, perhaps I could make things happen. Sirius leaned closer, switching his left hand to his cock to leave his dominant free and move that one between your bodies. He sneaked it in right to the place where the two connected and then pressed his index to your clit while his knuckles brushed the top side of Remus’ cock, drawing slow circles onto both. Although he couldn’t see directly, he was remarkably good at finding soft spots, and he could tell once he had.

Remus seemed to shiver, his hips moving slightly back as he touched him, also a result of your very tight clenching once Sirius started circling your clit. “Stop torturing each other,” Sirius said playfully. “You both know how fucking incredible you are.”

You smiled, and angled your hips upwards, sinking deeper into Remus’ cock before pulling back down again. Remus sighed in pleasure and started to move his hips as well, Sirius’ hand in between your bodies adding an extra layer of friction that had both of your minds reeling.

As Remus continued thrusting into you he leaned closer, his skin craving yours like a famished animal, a yearning he’d withheld for too long finally finding solace; in the plushness of your breasts and the hardness of your nipples, in the curve of your waist and mellow sounds your throat kept making. For him.

He had enough sense left to press soft, wet kisses against your lips, cheeks and jaw, as he relished on the myriad of feelings you were giving rise to. His nose, buried in your hair, the way you smelled of sweat and perfume and Sirius, was so perfect that he was overwhelmed with the sensory overload of it all. His breath tickled the soft skin of your neck as he continued to pound into you.

“You’re amazing… you feel amazing,” he mumbled as he thrusted, feeling Sirius’ hand with each move of his hips which was driving him just as mad as your walls wrapped around his cock. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “I never imagined I would– fuck.”

“I know,” you said breathily. “Fuck, I know,” you added, your hips chasing his own, matching his pace and surpassing it with frantic movements.

You weren’t sure where you ended and he started, let alone whether either of you could think properly at this point, at least not past basic actions: hips moving, kissing and mumbling senseless incoherencies; soft loving words, moans and curses blended into the atmosphere around you, the vibration of your voices saturating the air like stars in the sky.

Sirius wasn’t much better either, with one of his hands right between the two of you and the other on his cock, his thoughts were mostly focused on how alluring Remus’ back looked as it flexed, and how wonderful you looked right under him, your hair sprawled to the sides, making sounds that were as obscene as they were delightful.

At some point Remus managed to push Sirius into a laying flat position, having him almost beside you so he could reach his mouth while he continued to fuck into you. He could have both, he had both, and heaven was nothing but a petty promise in comparison to it. His movements became faster and more erratic the further it went. He kissed Sirius’ soft lips, losing himself on the boy for what could have been an eternity from how intense it felt.

“Fuck, Rem,” you managed to whimper, driving his focus back to you.

It might have been Sirius’ hand the one circling your clit and making your mind grow even fuzzier, but it was Remus’ weight on top of you, it was his strong chest the one pressing you onto the bed, his cock stretching your walls so tight that you barely noticed the slick wetness leaving your body as he fucked you, running from the place where your bodies connected toward your ass, and finally drenching the bedsheets.

Oh, how bad you three were ruining that bed…

“You’re close, aren’t you, Starshine?” Sirius asked while Remus’ panting breaths mingled with yours. Both of Sirius’ hands were busy, but Remus had been alternating between kissing you and Sirius, switching almost any time he needed to stop to breathe. He wondered if there was a way of being even closer to the two of you, and hoped he’d have time to figure it out.

“Mhm...” you moaned.. “Think he… he’s too,” you added, noticing how much more erratic his movements had become. You clenched harder, and you noticed how tense he’d become, his abs tightening and his head buried in the curve of your neck instead of returning to kiss. Sirius eyed him, Remus had his eyes clenched shut as he focused, trying to fuck you through his own high.

“It’s okay,” you cooed as you noticed him struggling to hold. You couldn’t quite feel his cum inside you, but you felt the warmth either way.

“No, I wanted you to–”

“It really is okay,” Sirius reassured him as well. His hand on your clit did not stop even when Remus’ movements started to slow. And your breath became ragged until you saw stars, gently moaning his names. Eventually, his hand slowed, stilling right in the middle when Remus’ weight fell onto the two of you. Remus breathed; exhausted, delighted, awed – He’d glimpsed at whatever lays beyond heaven for the first time in his life.

His body pressed into you and Sirius, sated and spent, Remus uttered, “I love you both so fucking much,” without even thinking. And then he tensed, looking up and at the other boy’s face with eyes wide open, as if he’d just said something ludicrous.

You smiled, moving one of your hands to rest against his arm, but Sirius beat you to speak, with a smile on his face, looking back at Remus with a tenderness that you had only seen a few times, on those rare occasions he let out raw honesty. “We love you too, Remus.”

“To the moon and back,” you added with a fucked out and yet slightly teasing smile.

You stayed like that, tangled together for a while, enjoying the sweet moment until Remus accidentally moved his arm and noticed Sirius’ cock still hard. He bit his lip. He was still half-soft inside you when he grabbed it and started pumping on it lazily. You didn’t have much space to move, but you managed to get one of your hands onto Sirius’ head and gently scratched his scalp with your hands as Remus helped him finish again.

His sounds were enough to make you wet again, coating Remus’ half-hardness as he continued to pump. It didn’t take longer than a few minutes for Sirius to cum onto Remus’ hand again, making a mess on the bed that equaled the one you had made earlier.

“I swear I’d go on for days if tiredness wasn’t a factor,” Sirius sighed contentedly as he looked at Remus and then at you, getting a glimpse of one of your still hard nipples, the lack of movement making you finally notice how cold it had gotten.

“Bet,” you said with a smile, and pulled the side of the duvet that wasn’t squelched under the three of you to cover yourself from the cold.

Remus sighed, and placed one of his hands in between your head and Sirius’, attempting to stand, but both you and Sirius pulled him back down. “Let’s stay like this a little longer,” Sirius mumbled.

“I’m still inside–”

“–Does it bother you, Starshine?”

“What?” you asked, turning back to him – you’d been looking at the window, trying to shut it with wandless magic, but you were too tired to properly work it out. Honestly, you were still shocked at the fact that you’d successfully accio'd the condoms earlier.

Sirius looked down. Remus hid his face on the boy’s chest, feeling rather bashful at Sirius’ shameless staring.

“Oh,” you said. “Not at all, I’m just cold.”

Remus moved his hand without even looking and the windows shut by themselves. The temperature in the room warmed almost instantly.

“Fucking impressive,” you said. “I’d been trying to do that for the past few minutes.”

“While Remus was helping me cu–”

“–I was cold,” you added before he said something obscene. In return, he wiggled the finger that was still on your clit and you hissed. “Stop teasing! We’re all exhausted.”

“Are we, though?”

“Yes,” both you and Remus retorted and Sirius just smiled. You stayed like that for a little while longer. Enjoying the way their skin felt against yours, and the way they felt against each other. You wondered if it would ever get better than this; it seemed impossible, but the two of them had already shown you how “impossible” could be easily conquered.

“We should clean up and get dressed before they get here,” Remus said as he raised his head and looked at the clock. “We don’t want James or Peter to see us like this.”

“Hm…” Sirius said thoughtfully. “That could be a way of telling him.”

“That could be a way to scare the shit out of him,” you responded.

“But then after the shock, he’d know,” Sirius tried to reason.

“You’re absolutely mental,” Remus said as he pressed a kiss to the boy’s collarbone, and your lips, and pushed himself up. This time neither of you stopped him. He got out of you with a low hiss and pulled the condom off before vanishing it.

“Étoile,” Sirius asked as he watched Remus’ rubber disappear. “How are you planning to figure that one out?”

“I have contacts,” you said with a smirk. And then looked down on yourself. You were still rather wet and sticky. Perhaps I could take a quick shower, you thought while looking at the bathroom. Remus and Sirius weren’t much better either, Remus was sticky with Sirius’ first orgasm and Sirius still had cum all over his belly. “We’re a mess.”

“A beautiful mess,” Remus smiled.

“A delightful mess,” Sirius agreed.

You looked at Remus, leaning on his shins as he stood from the bed, he had a small purple mark near his collarbone, which blended seamlessly with some of his scars. You had no idea if that had been you or Sirius that caused it, the fact that it could be either one was exhilarating. “Couldn’t agree more…”

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Remus said, extending his hand to you.

“What? Aftercare?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Sirius, have you been neglecting our girl?” Remus teased as he looked at the other boy.

“Last time we fucked it was in the water, and trust me, I cared mighty well for her.”

You laughed and didn’t complain as Remus pulled you to their bathroom and started the taps. “Not so hot,” Sirius said from the room as he cleaned the bedsheets with a swipe of his wand. He knew Remus usually took scalding showers.

“You’re not even here,” Remus retorted from the bathroom, although he did open the cold tap a little further.

“Yet…” Sirius added, and you laughed. There was no way in hell the three of you would fit into the small bath.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer @mothraantics @maqqiekwon @desikudisworld @pastelorangeskies @barking4you @profoundpidgeon @nagareboshi-chiyo @x4ramyluv @bookishbabyyyy @panhoeofmanyfandoms @randombibitch @lulu-recs @fantasticchaosthing @aadhinagony @literallyjustagirl27 @girlbooklover555 @lveegsoi @ashstillalive @bucksdonkey @irelanrose @wildtigerlili @fionaapplelover2010 @professionalrodent @mooonyxoxo @fionaapplelover2010 @napipope-ta @shortcakebbg @iamawkwardandshy @enfppuff @brain-has-left @nanoowl-blog @rory-cakes @wolfdragon0424 @lady-balem @hxgemxscles

A/N: Hope you like this one. Next week we might not get a chapter because I weill be exceptionally busy, but I'll try either way. Love, Lils

Leave a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

118 notes · View notes

chubbycelebs · 2 days ago

Text

Donut Lover Boys (part 3)

The winter months started to creep in slowly. Days were getting shorter and darker and colder but the hubbub around Christmas was keeping spirits high. The streets were decorated and homes were filled with colourful lights. The shops were filled with little presents and gifts and wrapping paper and Christmas decorations and food. Oh so much food. Every shop had food of every kind piled high. They had an abundance of sweet treats and chocolates and cakes and sweets and crisps and creams. It was endless amounts of sugary fatty food that laced the streets around this time of year.

Of course the little donut cafe in the retail park was no different to anywhere else. The shop was covered head to toe in Christmas decorations, even having a little Christmas tree in the corner by the window. Production on donuts had tripled and the store had more donuts then sense.

Will was putting in over time at the cafe during the busy weeks on the build up to Christmas. He would spend from opening all the way to closing more days of the week then not. But of course Logan was always there to keep him entertained, sat not far from the counter enjoying the occasional donut.

The two of them had spent nearly everyday together since their first date. They would go for food, go to little cafes, go on little shopping trips, cook food together at each other’s homes and of course spend time at the donut cafe whilst Will worked. They loved spending so all this time together and indulging with each other. Most of their days started and ended with the most intimate and intense sex. They were so infatuated with each other they simply never wanted to be apart. So they simply didn’t.

Will had become aware of the fact that 9 times out of 10 the two of them would be eating when they are together. And never eating something healthy but something carb rich or sugar filled and they’d both eat till their stomachs were tight. Will had heard about this relationship weight gain (when you get into a relationship and are so happy with each other that you let go of your selves and put on the pounds) but Will hadn’t ever gained weight in his life. He would check him self in the mirror every morning. He developed a bit of pudge around his boxers but that’s hardly anything. Will just hoped his metabolism could keep him slim for a little while longer, just whilst this phase of eating all the time was still going strong. Will didn’t notice much of change with Logan’s body, if there had been one at all. Logun never had abs even when they first started dating but his arms and thighs were muscly and that hadn’t changed. Will was sure he was just over thinking it all and should relax and enjoy the time the two spend together.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon and the sun was setting as the night crawled in. The clock struck 5 and Will walked over to the front door and turned the open sign to closed and locked the door for the night. He turned back around and saw Logan was watching him walk across the store with a smile. “What are you smirking at huh?” Will asked smiling bsck at Logun as he made his was towards him.

Will positioned him self in-between Logan’s muscly thighs and placed his hands on his cheeks. “Just taking you all in that’s all” Logan teased as his hands slipped past Wills hips and round to his perky ass. Will felt Logan squeeze his ass and a rush of hot blood began to corse through his body.

“Hey! I need to close down this place before you get me all excited like that.” Will pulled away from Logan’s touch and made his way to the counter, pulling a bottle of surface spray out and started wiping down the display cabinets.

“Alright alright.” Logan was looking at the couple dozen donuts left over in the display cabinet. “What happens to all of them? That’s too many to throw away right?” He asked.

“Oh no they all get thrown. We can’t keep them till the morning they’ll go dry and gross so we have to bun them.” Will saw the shock on Logan’s face as he told him this information. “I know it’s such a waste. I don’t know why we make so much.”

Logan got up and looked at the display cabinet, saddened they’d all go to waste. “Can you eat them all?” Logan asked rather matter of fact.

“I mean yeah if they aren’t sold I could have the odd one or two before the rest go to the bin but couldn’t have all of them. There’s nearly 30 left over here.” Will looked over at Logan who seemed transfixed on the donuts in the shop.

“I’m sure I could polish off most of them.” Logan finally broke eye contact with the donuts and looked back at Will who was cleaning the tables around the cafe. “I mean only if I’m allowed to?”

He had these puppy eyes as he said that. Wills heart melted at the sight of him. “Of course you are allowed to. It’s just a lot of donuts” Will now joined Logan at looking at the amazing donuts left over from today’s sales. “I’m just not sure you can eat them all.”

“Give me the chance. I’ll show you I can. I promise!” Logan was like a little dog now. Almost panting wanting these donuts so bad.

“Okay okay. I’ll go get them out for you and you can eat your heart out as I close down the shop” Will moved around the counter and pulled the tray out that had all the donuts on it. He walked round and placed it on the table in front of Logan. “Enjoy then my boy” Will said rubbing Logan’s back as he duh into his first of many donuts.

As Will carried on cleaning the store and shutting it down, he heard very little coming from Logan except muffled groaning as he ate more and more donuts. Occasionally he’d hear a stifled burp but other than that, the boy was silently stuffing his face.

The whole cafe was pretty much ready to be shut till the morning except for the tray of donuts Logan was polishing off. Will came from the back and walked round to see that Logan had eaten nearly all the donuts except for 4 icing filled donuts. Will came round and saw Logan with his eyes closed, leaning back and hands rubbing his distended gut. He had pulled his shirt up to his chest and ran his hands across his rounded hairy belly. Will got a pulse in his pants at the sigh of him. He sat down next to his filled boy and gave him a pat on the gut. “Cant finish them off big boy?” Will teased slightly, rubbing his hand up and down Logan’s belly.

“Ugh it’s those bloody chr- uuurrrrrpppp- god sorry. Those Christmas ones. They are so sickly and covered in icing.” Will had never seen Logan in such a state before. The pair of them had been full but Logan was practically ready to pop it seemed.

“You’ve done a good job though Logan. You’ve eaten like 25 donuts in one sitting. That’s insane.”

“You finish them Will. I don’t wanna see them go to waste.”

“Me?” Will asked confused. “I could have one or two but-“

“I’ll help you. We can finish this tray off together.” Logan opened his eyes slightly and placed a hand on Wills thigh, stroking it quite high up, just by his sensitive area.

“*sigh* okay fine. Let’s finish these off and go home.”

The first donut was a treat but the heavy icing already made Wills stomach feel full. The second one was still enjoyable but he was already really full now and felt his belly push against his uniform slightly. During the third one Will couldn’t finish it half way through. So Logan stepped him. Logan took the rest of the donut and started feeding it to Will. “Go on. Good boy that’s right eat it up. You’re making me so proud Will.” He even started to play with Wills distended stomach. He slipped his hands under his shirt and rubbed his hand across his gut. Will let out a little burp and a small gap of space opened up in his stomach. “Oh good boy well done. One more to go baby.” Logan picked up the last donut and pushed it against Wills lips. Will wanted nothing more than to stop eating these sickening donuts but the words of encouragement from Logan were intoxicating. His dick pushed hard against his trousers just hearing Logan’s words. “That’s right. Eat up baby you’ve got this. Last one.” Slowly but steadily Will polished off the last donut.

Logan gave Wills belly a pat which prompted a loud “URRRRRRPPPPP- of fuck sorry ugh. I’m ugh just never been this erm full” Will panted leaning back on his chair.

“I’ve never been prouder of you my sexy boy.” Logan kissed Will as he sat there unable to move from the large amount of donut in his gut. “Should we go back to yours Will? I’ve got some cardio in mind that could help work off this gut” Logan said exposing his belly again and giving it a firm slap. Will quickly came around and almost jumped out of his seat.

“Let’s go then. I simply can’t resist you anymore.”

The two boys walked out of the cafe with their shirts tight across their bloated bellies, ready for a night of intense sex.

The routine of eating all the left over donuts wasn’t just a one time thing, but became very regular on the weeks leading up to Christmas. Everyday Logan would eat the majority of the left over treats and Will would always help out if he couldn’t quite finish them. More times then not the two of them would be laid on a chair rubbing each others bellies, letting out muffled burps and moans. It became so routine for them that they both didn’t even notice the effects it was having on their once ideal bodies.

December 23rd. The two boys were going home to their respective families. They decided to spend the morning together before they both got the trains home to their homes. Of course their time was spent having passionate sex, making up for lost time whilst they go away to their families. The afternoon sun beamed through the window of Wills bedroom. Will was laid on his stomach, his round ass leaking the hot sticky cum Logan had just pumped into him. His body glistened slightly from the sweat, the sun working to illuminate Wills curves. Will looked over at Logan who was laid on his back, panting as he got his breath back. Will watched as Logan’s belly rose and sunk with his breathing. Something seemed different about Logan’s body but he wasn’t sure what it was. After a couple minutes admiring Logan’s physique, Will got up to go the bathroom and clean up. He got up and walked over to the bathroom across the hall. As he shut the door, he turned around to look at the mirror. Something about Wills body had changed. The slim streamline body he had always had seemed to have changed. Will noticed his chest had filled out slightly, his nipples having grown a bit rounded it seemed. Will traced his hand down his torso. That slight pudge from a few weeks ago seemed to have grown and slightly wrapped around his waist. Will played with it. His stomach wasn’t firm or in shape but soft now. Will turned to the side and saw how his stomach was slightly distended now, rounded. From the side Will also saw how his perky ass was becoming more shelf like, like two small footballs. He took a handful of his ass and shook it, shocked by how wobbly it was. His thighs had thickened up and even noticed how they touched and pushed his balls further out from between his legs. “Wow” Will thought feeling his slightly widened hips “the relationship weight is really no joke.”

As he squished his softened belly, he heard the door open and there stood Logan in all his glory. It became very apparent what had changed about Logan. He too had gained some weight, but his was much more noticeable. Logan’s once firm chest was now soft and slightly sat on his belly, a fold formed under his rounded chest. His nipples were definitely rounded and drooped more. His arms lacked definition but his size was still there. His legs were even thicker and pushed against each other. His hips were wider. Above his hips say two love handles that joined into his belly. Logan’s belly was perfectly rounded. All definition that he had when these two first met were gone, replaced with a belly that jiggled as Logan walked towards Will. His belly button was deeper and his whole body seemed hairier. He was sporting the dad look and doing it brilliantly at the just the age of 21. “You okay Will?” Logan asked slipping his hand across Wills waist.

“Yeah erm yeah I’m great” Will slightly stuttered, feeling him self getting worked up again at the sight of his chunky boyfriend.

“You look delicious” Logan slowly kissed Wills neck as he pressed his softened hairy body against Wills chubby middle. “I can’t believe I’m not going to see you for 3 weeks.”

“Then show me what I’m gonna be missing then big guy” Will teased Logan as he grabbed his ass and shook it, causing a chain reaction of wobbling across his body. Logan pushed Will against the wall and pinned him there with his gut. Will moaned out loud unable to contain his excitement. Their sex was good before the weight gain but something about this bigger boy was getting Will beyond excited. It wasn’t long before Will was having his ass pounded by Logan. The thought of his big boyfriend pumping his little soft belly full of cum was driving Will insane. He thought about in a few weeks when they return, what would Logan look like then? Would his belly be slapping against Wills ass as he pounds it. Would his chest sit proudly on his distended belly. Will was reaching climax at the thought. Then a new thought filled his mind. What would Will look like in a few weeks. Would his ass jiggle as he walked? Would his belly droop and wobble as Logan pounded him from the back. Would the pair of them keep getting bigger and fatter and sexier over the next few weeks? Could the two of them resist not being by each other’s side every waking hour? When will the pair of them admit to the fact that they were both wanting to get fatter?

Hey! Here’s part 3 of my current story! Sorry it’s been a while I’ve been super busy with work and life and everything. I really hope you enjoy this part. The next part is gonna take a bit of a different format. It’s gonna be in two parts as we explore how the both of them cope with being home with their families and with their recent changes to their figure. I really hope you are enjoying this story. I’m really invested in these characters and I hope you guys are too. Thank you for all the support!

65 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 2 days ago

Text

WIP excerpt for RaineyDay behind the cut; “the one where Kon’s soulmark isn’t fake”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He is so, so bored. And hungry again. Also if this takes much longer he’s probably gonna need to figure out where the nearest bathroom is, because he has already been up here way too long and he definitely did drink a whole-ass Big Gulp this morning, so like–

Superboy spots something in the filtering-in crowd of reporters and cameramen and photographers and his whole spine prickles all at once. And by “something”, he means “someone”.

Specifically, he means Clark Kent and Lois Lane. They’re both wearing press badges; Lane’s in a pencil skirt and blazer and Kent’s wearing a suit that is cut so bad Superboy is genuinely astonished that Lane is willing to be seen with him in it. Actually, scratch that, he is genuinely astonished that any salesperson let him buy it, no matter what their commission rate is.

Ugh, god, he probably got it off the rack, actually, didn’t he.

Ew.

Doesn’t this dude have an actual, like, job and career? Like, a pretty good one? Do locally-famous investigative journalists in Metropolis not make enough money to buy work clothes that didn’t come from, like, Burlington or an outlet mall or whatever?

Major ew.

Superboy has no idea how Superman got a soulmate who’s so bad at dressing himself that he looks like he dressed himself bad on purpose. Like, what even is that? Kent is a way bigger dude than that suit is making him look–which his shitty posture is not helping with, for the record–and like, not actually as hopeless-looking as those big clumsy glasses and terrible hairstyle would imply either. Again, Superboy has no idea how or why Lane is willing to be seen with him, much less, like, be marrying him.

Yeah, they’re definitely soulmates. There is literally no other explanation. For one thing, Superman is right there, so Superboy doesn’t know how she even noticed Clark Kent to begin with, much less noticed him long enough for them to realize they had matching marks. Which–he has no idea if Superman and Lane had a situationship thing going before that or if they just acted like they did because it distracted people from figuring out Superman’s actual soulmate. Because, like, Superman occasionally being seen with the hot reporter chick he’s saved about a thousand times makes way more sense than Superman being seen with the dweeby reporter dude, and Superboy cannot imagine how anybody wouldn’t have figured out they had to be soulmates if they were hanging out.

. . . actually, Superboy’s not sure, but are they, like . . . romantic soulmates? ‘Cuz he kinda just assumed they’d be platonic and Lane and Kent were romantic, but like . . . he doesn’t actually know or anything. Shit, maybe Lane and Kent are platonic and they’re just getting married as, like, another smokescreen thing or for, he doesn’t know, fuckin’ tax purposes or something. Superman doesn’t even pay taxes, he’s pretty sure, so . . . yeah, fuck if he knows.

It is so, so weird that Superman’s soulmate is Clark Kent, though. Though like, maybe it’s because of the thing where Clark Kent is the literal last person that Superboy is pretty sure anybody would assume would be Superman’s soulmate. Like, that might be a thing there.

It’s still weird as shit, though.

#kon el #conner kent #superboy #superfamily #wip: the one where kon's soulmark isn't fake #RaineyDay

68 notes · View notes

gretaglasses · 2 days ago

Text

Caitvi Week Day 7: Prom/Formal

Vi had had plenty of reasons to question her life decisions recently, but this was one of the dumbest. The annual enforcer’s gala was exactly as mind-numbingly awful as she’d expected it to be, full of aged-out enforcers and eager recruits looking to rub elbows with their heroes. She was sure she had cracked more than one of her teeth by now from the way she’d been gritting them all night.

She wasn’t sure what was worse – being ignored after she’d dragged herself to this stupid event in the first place, or actually having the attention of Piltover’s elite on her, their condescending eyes sweeping her up and down. Vi wasn’t even sure what exactly they were judging her for. She’d come dressed in her uniform, freshly laundered, hair as neat as it ever was. There wasn’t much she could do about the tattoos or piercings, but she was playing their game, as much as it gnawed at her to do it.

She was one of them now, after all.

“Having a good time?”

Vi looked up as she was joined by the one person capable of making any of this tolerable.

“Oh, yeah. It’s been a real pleasure.”

Caitlyn smiled weakly. She handed Vi one of the champagne glasses in her hand, raising the other in a lazy toast before drinking deeply from it. Vi sipped from her glass as she eyes Caitlyn carefully. There was no sign of the polite smile she had expertly slotted into place the moment they’d walked into the ballroom, shaking hands and conversing with people who stared at her like she was a tool they could use. Caitlyn handled it all like she’d been born to do it, which, Vi supposed she had been. But she couldn’t believe that these people didn’t see the way it grated on her, didn’t notice the tension in the corner of Caitlyn’s eyes or the clipped coolness of her warm voice. It was so obvious to Vi that Caitlyn was miserable, she was shocked that no one else seemed to notice.

Now, with her back carefully turned to the crowd, and no one’s eyes on her but Vi’s, Caitlyn finally allowed the mask to slip entirely.

“I’ve been trying to dodge Officer Harrison all evening,” she sighed, frowning down at her glass. “Apparently, he has some recommendations on how to properly utilize the funding my family provides the enforcers. He also seems to think I don’t know about his gambling habit.”

Vi snorted, turning to scan the crowd over Caitlyn’s shoulder. “You’re safe for now. He’s entertaining himself on the dance floor.”

Caitlyn exhaled in relief, visibly relaxing.

“Somehow, I always manage to forget how insufferable these things are.” She looked up at Vi, that same exhaustion clouding her face. ”Thank you for coming tonight. This would have been…even more unpleasant without you here.”

”Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, cupcake,” Vi answered, like she hadn’t been dragged there, kicking and screaming.

Caitlyn ducked her head to hide her chuckle, and Vi’s heart squeezed.

She’d almost forgotten what Caitlyn’s face looked like when she laughed. For a moment, she looked like the woman who had looked at Vi from across the bed, listening to her talk about her sister. Before that same sister had come back, and destroyed the fragile something they had been building.

Vi wanted to see Caitlyn make that face again.

“Do you want to dance?”

The question surprised Vi almost as much as it did Caitlyn as it came out of her mouth, but she didn’t take it back. She didn’t want to, not when it made the tiniest blush rise to Caitlyn’s cheeks, the corners of her lips turning up ever so slightly.

Without waiting for an answer, Vi offered her hand, and Caitlyn took it.

It wasn’t until they were already on the dance floor, facing each other, that Vi realized what she had gotten herself into.

“Just follow me,” Caitlyn said softly, taking one of Vi’s hands in here, the other resting gently on her shoulder. She smiled when Vi took her by the waist, and began to sway them gently back and forth.

Vi could feel people’s eyes on them, but Caitlyn didn’t pay them any mind, so she didn’t either. She concentrated on Caitlyn’s eyes instead, and how she could feel her breath ghosting against her lips. The gold on Caitlyn’s uniform glittered under the ballroom lighting, making her eyes sparkle as she led them slowly around the dance floor.

Vi forced herself not to let her eyes dip lower, to Caitlyn’s mouth so tantalizingly close to hers.

She used the loose grip they had on each other’s hands to spin Caitlyn gently outward, grinning at her surprised laughter as she caught her again. They were even closer now, Vi’s hand firm against the small of Caitlyn’s back. For the first time that night, Vi actually felt herself relaxing, and she could tell by the way Caitlyn was leaning into her that she was, too.

“Okay,” Vi murmured, “maybe Harrison had the right idea after all.”

Caitlyn’s laughter was as bright as the chandelier hanging high above them.

<< Day 6: Werewolves & Vampires >> Day 8: Free Day

#caitvi week 2025 #arcane #arcane fanfic #caitvi #caitvi fanfic #violyn #vi x caitlyn #wrote this one on the way to a funeral so forgive the abrupt ending lolll #my fics

29 notes · View notes

cherubcameron · 2 days ago

Text

Iqual que un Ángel

Chapter Two

Authors note: this starts similarly to Love Espresso with Rafe. But he’s more angry and isn’t as forgiving in this one. He also doesn’t want to talk to Sofia and doesn’t want to hear her out.

Synopsis: Sofia is pregnant, and the last thing she needs is for Rafe to find out. It’s her dirty secret, it’s not like he’s barging down her door to speak to her. He looks as if he’s done with her for good. Will outside forces, force Sofia to confront the situation at hand. Or will she be able to keep this secret up? Not like, her belly isn’t growing everyday or anything.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2. | Chapter 3

To say, Rafe was still angry, was an understatement. He was still very much furious. He wasn’t the kind of person, to take kindly to betrayal. He never liked to be crossed. Least of all, by someone he loved.

But when memories of Sofia floated back to his head. It just never added up. The idea of her using him the entire time, came up. But they’d been together for two years. It just didn’t make any logical sense to him. And Rafe liked to believe he was a logical person. He was a proactive kind of person. And he’d assume she wasn’t. She completely skewed everything he knew about her.

Was it all just a facade?

Rafe rubbed his head, all these thoughts of Sofia, making his head throb. He couldn’t deny another fact, one he tried to bury. He missed her. He hated it, he wanted to toss any feelings he had for her and throw them away. Shove them into a drawer. It made him want to go back to coke again. So he could forget her. But now with Sarah, kinda forgiving him. He knew he couldn’t go down that road. Plus, he didn’t like who he was when he was coked out. It made him paranoid. Made him think everyone was the enemy.

They were finally back. After turning Groff in to Shoupe. Rafe wanted to put treasure hunting behind him. He didn’t care for it. He didn’t want it. All this gold, it just didn’t feel worth it to him anymore. They’d gotten what they wanted. That was for sure. But Rafe didn’t care about money anymore. Something was different with him. And it all started because of Sofia.

He shook his head, trying to shake the thought. He needed to forget her. He needed to forget her.

Sofia examined herself in the mirror, she didn’t look different. She didn’t feel different. She was pregnant, that was for sure. But she didn’t feel any different. She placed a hand over her stomach, she was growing a baby inside of her. One that belonged to Rafe. And he didn’t know.

Sofia heard her phone, dinging. She grabbed it from her vanity. Peering at who could have been texting her. Her heart leapt, maybe it was Rafe. Maybe he finally decided to reach out to her?

She sighed deeply, disappointed to see it wasn’t him. She wasn’t sure, why she assumed he would. But a part of her hoped. Stupidly, if she could say so herself. She shook her head, walking out of her room, heading to take a shower. She needed to relax, to keep her mind at ease. No one knew. Not her parents. Nor her siblings. No one. And it wasn’t like, Sofia had any friends to go to about this. She’d pushed everyone away the moment she ended up with Rafe. And when she went back, tail between her legs. Her ex friends set their foot down. Saying, they weren’t placeholders until Rafe decided to be in her life again.

So Sofia was alone. She didn’t expect anything less. But it still stung. She let out a shaky breath. She stepped into the shower. Her eyes closing as the water hit her body.“You can do this, Sofia.” She says to herself. “You can do this.”

She let the hot water, run down her body. Letting herself escape to her form of heaven. She just needed to get past this shift. Just needed let things happen the way they needed too.

She could feel eyes on her as Rafe, Kelce, Topper and Ruthie, walked into the country club. Sofia let her eyes fall towards the counter. The customer in front of her, too busy eyeing her tits to notice her sudden shyness.

She didn’t know if they were looking. She tried to cool her nerves. Tried not to let herself look, but her eyes had a mind of its own. She snuck a peek at them. She spotted the way Rafe stared at her. His eyes cold, not the usual warmth he’d always shown her. His eyes would soften, every time he’d look at her. Not this time.

Rafe turns to Kelce, whisper yelling at him. Kelce is shaking his head, saying something in return, Sofia can’t hear. Her attention is brought back to the customer, his hand over hers.

“Don’t ever get married. It’s not worth it. But shhhh, don’t tell my wife I said that. She’ll ring my neck.” The patron slurs his words. Laughing to himself, Sofia can only smile. It’s not real. But what he says, sends a pang to her. Conjuring up an image of her and Rafe. If they’d been married, imagining—

“Sofia! How lovely to see you again.” Ruthie says, approaching. With an awkward Topper, who looks over at his girlfriend with wide eyes. “It’s like we can just always find you here. Must be so exciting for you.” The condescension seeping out of Ruthie’s lips like honey.

“Hi Ruthie, what can I get you?” Sofia says, smiling at Ruthie, but the smile not reaching her eyes.

“Such hospitality, you’re so sweet Sofia.” Ruthie says, but she says it in a way, Sofia knows it’s a mockery at her. “Usually, Pogues aren’t as sickly sweet as you.” And there it was, the back handed compliments.

“You’re too kind, Ruthie.” Sofia says, bullshit more like, she thinks.

Sofia eyes land on Kelce and Rafe, both boys keeping away from her. Rafe continues to stare at Sofia with cold eyes. While, Kelce shakes his head at Ruthie.

“Uh what’s up, Sofia.” Topper says, awkwardly. “Can I get a vodka soda?” She can tell, he wants to be anywhere else but with her and Ruthie. That he’s trying to make things easy. But with the way, Ruthie is staring at Sofia. She knows it won’t be an easy feat.

“Yeah of course.” Sofia had nothing against Topper. Out of all, of Rafe’s Kook friends, he’d been the nicest to her. They had been kind of close, always reaching out to each other whenever Rafe crashed out. One thing, Sofia didn’t really miss about him.

Sofia is glad she finally has something to distract her. But she could feel the way; Rafe stare burns holes in the back of her head.

Stay calm, you’re okay. You’re okay.

Once she’s finished making the drink, she turns to give it to him. Noticing the smirk on Ruthie’s face. Sofia wanted to be anywhere but here. She preferred, if she didn’t have to deal with Ruthie and her condescension. It would make this all smoother.

“Thanks, Sofia.” Topper says, offering her an awkward smile.

“Don’t mention it.” She smiled back. Ruthie, was clearly using her presence to make Sofia uncomfortable. The moment grows awkward, and Sofia wants to crawl out of her own skin.

When she finally looks up, she notices Rafe is gone.

After Morocco, and the events that had occurred. Rafe felt further removed from his Kook friends. He’d seen things, done things, they would never grasp. He no longer felt like he could stand the Kook life. He hadn’t realized how much his words had rang true. When he had told Sofia he didn’t care about the whole Pogues v. Kooks thing. He just wanted a comfortable life. Wanted away from all the bullshit.

He knew he couldn’t have that. Not when the one person, he wanted, loved, stood in front of him. The awful thing she did, standing in the way of them. Rafe sighed, watched as her back turned. Taking a drink, a waiter passing by offered him. And walked away from the bar. Taking a long gulp of the drink.

He felt his phone ring:

#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe x sofia #sofia outer banks #sofia obx #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #sofia x rafe #rafe and sofia

39 notes · View notes

aspentreewrites · 2 days ago

Text

and when all the flowers are rotten and all the cannons shot

Chapter 5

Pairings: Codywan

Tags/Warnings: (for current arc) slow burn, general angst and pining, realising feelings, tending to wounds, AO3 rating is E for future chapters

Link to read on AO3 here!

Description:

The truth of the matter burrows deep into Cody’s skin, settling into the home it’s long-since made for itself there, nestled tightly amongst the other secrets he harbours that are too shameful to ever speak aloud.

He digs his fingers into his temples, breathing in heavy lungfuls of the steam-drenched air as if it might reverse the realisation that now weighs upon his heart like lead.

This is no longer just some passing infatuation.

He’s in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(or: an account of the relationship between one Marshal Commander and his General from in the midst of a war.)

✷✷✷✷✷

A/N: I'm cooking up so much for the next few chapters, you aren't even ready :') thank you so much for all the kindness on chapter 4!!

Shout out to @whenyourfavouritedies (their AO3 here) for beta'ing as always!

Wordcount: 7.1k

Prev chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

✷✷✷✷✷

Returning to their men after a few days away is, predictably, chaos.

The second they enter the atmosphere, their comms light up with every notice they’d missed: dozens of fires that have been put out, but not quite how Cody would have done it; hundreds of meeting requests, mostly for inane matters that could have simply been an email; thousands of reports that have accrued in their absence…

It’s good to be home.

By the time their ship docks, the sun is setting the Coruscant skyline ablaze. The skyscrapers stretch into eternity ahead of them, usually so indifferent and imposing, but Cody always finds them strangely comforting after he’s been away.

Cody doesn’t necessarily think that Fox was wrong in his drunken assessment when he had once called the city-planet a ‘shithole’, but there’s a fondness that’s crept up within him over the years. It’s his shithole, and the shithole is home. Unwelcoming, uncaring, cold, familiar home.

He blinks against the harsh light of the sunset, trying to resist the urge to rub his eyes. He can look as tired as he feels when he’s in the privacy of the barracks, but for the moment, he’s still on duty. He has far too much pride to allow his shoulders to slump in public, especially when at his General’s side.

The sleep on their return trip hadn’t done much to restore his energy - not that Cody suspected it would. By Obi-Wan’s estimate, the healing had done much of the work, but a full night’s rest would still be in order to make sure that he can be at his best for tomorrow. Cody, for once, hadn’t been able to find the strength to argue.

“Well,” the Jedi says as he disembarks from the ship, squinting as he looks out to the horizon. The Temple stands proud amidst its surroundings, its brutalist silhouette dwarfing the spires that neighbour it. “I should deliver my report to the Council before it gets too late. They wish to see me in person, it seems.”

Cody nods, even as the quiet guilt of leaving his General to handle all of the post-mission work alone nags at the back of his mind. He’s all too aware of how much there will be to do - more than enough for an all-nighter, if attempted alone.

He starts slightly as Obi-Wan reaches out a hand to gently squeeze his shoulder. “Your concern is unnecessary, but noted,” the Jedi comments lightly. “I’ll have to make note of the fact that you’re much worse at stoicism when you’re recovering from a concussion.” The faintest smile tugs at his lips under his beard.

Cody belatedly realises that his worry must have made its way onto his face, rather than strictly staying internal as he'd intended. In fact, it seems like he's been frowning rather intently for the past minute or so. He’s quick to rectify his expression to something closer to neutrality.

“Please try and forget that you know that,” he says dryly, watching as a speeder docks nearby. It’s sleek and shiny, all glossy black paint with a white stripe along the side. It probably costs more than Cody makes in a whole year… he shakes his head, trying not to linger on that particular train of thought. He turns his eyes back to his General. “It wouldn’t be ideal if you were tempted to hit me over the head whenever you wanted to know how I was feeling.”

Obi-Wan grins. “You’re no fun, Commander.”

Cody snorts. “I never have been, sir.”

Looking over at his Jedi in lighting like this is a lethal thing. His skin had been slightly kissed by the sun during their stay on the resort, giving him a gentle glow that feels all-around unfair to be forced to look upon. The orange hues of the light bring out the blue in his eyes just so, and Cody imagines that this whole war business would have been a lot easier had he been given a General that looked just slightly less like the protagonist of a romance holo.

Obi-Wan squeezes his shoulder one more time before stepping back and bidding his leave, the two parting ways for the moment. As he makes his way back to the barracks, Cody’s mind is awash with a soft sense of longing, battling with an undeniable relief to be home.

No more pretending to be Obi-Wan’s husband, at least - that particularly cruel decision by the fates has come to an end. Despite it all, Cody thinks quietly that a small, entirely unprofessional part of him will miss the opportunity to be so close to the Jedi.

His musings are interrupted when he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the window of a nearby building. The strange war taking place in his head is decided - relief wins out in its entirety.

He’s finally allowed to shave again - thank the Stars.

_____________________________

As the doors of the Council Chambers close behind him, Obi-Wan finally - finally - allows himself to relax a little.

He sweeps through the hallways of home, the sense of peace that always pervades the Jedi Temple permeating through his very being, calming his mind from the storm that threatens to overtake it.

The mission had, upon reflection, been a resounding success. They’d identified their target quickly, and had not only retrieved the package for study, but also started to uncover the identity of a traitor within the Senate as well.

And yet he can’t quite shake the feeling of guilt that haunts his thoughts, settling over him like an old, familiar blanket around his shoulders.

Cody.

Obi-Wan runs a hand through his hair, unconsciously mussing up the short strands. He’s sure he looks a mess, but he can’t find it in himself to care. A weary sigh escapes him.

It’s not even about the concussion, really, though he still feels sheepish about not sensing the rock when he had tackled him. The truth is, Obi-Wan has been feeling ashamed of himself ever since the… events of that second evening undercover. Just the memory alone is enough to make him grimace. What was he thinking? He should never, ever have–

His train of thought is swiftly interrupted by the emergence of Anakin from the chambers behind him, the young man setting a course straight in his direction.

Obi-Wan takes a brief break from his self reproach, sending a gentle nudge through the Force to his former apprentice. Anakin returns it, though the glint of mischief in his eyes is absolutely not lost on Obi-Wan. He’s sure he should be worried - he feels his expression beginning to sour already.

“Interesting choice for cover,” is the greeting his friend chooses, called rather loudly down the corridor as he jogs over to catch up. Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, is it?

Obi-Wan just walks faster.

“Good evening to you as well, Anakin,” he mutters, his words short and clipped. Anakin falls into step beside him, matching his hurried pace with ease. He gives Obi-Wan a smile that feels nauseatingly knowing.

“How’s Cody?” he asks, drawing out the syllables of the Commander’s name in a show of juvenile insinuation. A muscle in Obi-Wan’s jaw ticks - he’s taught him to be above this type of thing, surely, though it’s hardly a surprise at this point that his painstaking lessons in decorum over the years have been ignored.

“I don’t know what it is you’re implying, Anakin, but I’d advise you to stop, lest that objectionable smirk be seared on your face forever.”

His biting words do not, to Obi-Wan’s dismay, deter his former Padawan. If anything, they seem to spur him on.

“Touched a nerve, did I?”

Obi-Wan casts the boy a sidelong glance, narrowing his eyes. Anakin’s appearance has changed subtly since Obi-Wan last saw him - before he and Cody went away, Anakin had been on a mission of his own for a number of weeks.

He needs a haircut.

“You need a haircut.”

Anakin snorts, pushing back the longer-than-usual locks from his face. “You’re deflecting,” he counters easily, all-too amused.

Obi-Wan lets out an indignant huff, calling on the Force to bring him some calm. His own former apprentice, speaking to him like he’s the child here.

“I’m not dignifying such an accusation with a response,” he finds himself snapping before he has the time to temper his reaction.

Obi-Wan is being petulant. He knows he’s being petulant, but Anakin just seems to draw the childish behaviour out of him like no one else can.

Somehow not sensing that he’s treading on thin ice, or more likely, being entirely aware that he is and yet ploughing on anyway, Anakin continues. “Really, Obi-Wan, something has to be up. The last time I was able to wind you up like this was on The Coronet with Duchess–”

Obi-Wan takes a sharp right, ducking into his quarters in the vain hope that he can escape this conversation. He had been intending to make his way calmly down to the barracks to begin his work as soon as possible, but he’s willing to suffer in the indignity of temporarily hiding away like a youngling if it means shooing Anakin away.

“You’re drawing connections where there are none,” he retorts, his tone harsh, even to his own ears. He can only pray he doesn’t look as flustered as he feels, otherwise he knows he’ll never hear the end of it. “Now goodnight, Anakin. We will speak again in the morning, and I shall hear no more of this business from you.”

Anakin looks like the loth-cat that got the cream as he leans against the doorway, expression unerringly, irritatingly smug.

“Sure thing, Master,” he returns, not even bothering to try and conceal the lie through the Force.

Obi-Wan, in a demonstration of his galaxy-renowned prowess at self control, slams his hand on the door controls not quite as hard as he could have done, shutting Anakin out for the moment.

He hears the boy snort in amusement from the other side and can’t help but let out a soft curse from under his breath. That perplexing, arrogant, utterly irritating boy.

A faint sense of relief fills him as he senses Anakin’s Force signature grow gradually more and more distant, finally leaving him be.

In the darkness of his room, Obi-Wan takes a few deep breaths, the frustration melting away to something that sits considerably heavier on his heart.

Is he truly so obvious?

Obi-Wan, as a rule, prides himself on his stoicism, his ability to play his cards close to his chest. It’s even part of what earned him his reputation as the ‘Negotiator’, as much as the boastful title makes him cringe.

Only three people have ever been able to see through him at such a consistent rate that he would consider it unnerving.

The first, Qui-Gon, was understandable. The Master had taken him on as a reckless youngling, and he had practically raised him for a decade. It stands to reason that he knew him as well as a father would a son.

And then Anakin, for better or worse, has always been able to read him like an open book, while still wilfully misinterpreting his intentions at every turn. It’s… infuriating, but the connection always made sense - the bond between a Master and Padawan is incredibly powerful, and despite their differences, he loves his former apprentice dearly.

Cody… Cody had come as much more of a surprise.

It had started during meetings, once their partnership had given way to a closer kind of friendship: subtle expressions exchanged when they were otherwise unable to talk freely, minute acknowledgements of how a diplomatic council was progressing. A single look shared at the right moment quickly became an invaluable tool to aid them both in deciding how and when to proceed in a tense negotiation.

This, inevitably, had progressed into the development of inconspicuous hand signals, entirely unique to them. This was something already in use amongst the GAR, of course, but the two of them had found the existing signs woefully inadequate for their needs, and quickly set about to invent more.

And then, somehow, this non-verbal communication and reading of one another had settled into their everyday lives like it was always a part of them - cups of caf being pressed into Obi-Wan’s hand before he’d even realised he was tired, the two having an uncanny ability to finish each other’s thoughts and sentences during their more informal conversations late at night.

Nowhere has this become more prevalent to Obi-Wan than in the trust he has built that Cody can innately interpret his intentions and movements in the field as well as any Jedi can, somehow all without the use of the Force.

He had, briefly, pondered whether Cody was Force sensitive, but his midichlorian count had been within the normal range, though admittedly on the higher end, when he convinced the other man to let him take a little blood to perform a test.

(It had amused him at the time to see that the Commander seemed rather relieved to find out this news. “It would have been another thing to have to worry about,” Cody had told him with a grin, “and I have quite a lot on my plate as it is.”)

The connection between them is all, to put a word to it that causes the Jedi to flush in shame, rather intimate.

Obi-Wan is certain that Cody doesn’t know how he feels about him - at least, he hopes.

He has invested far too much of himself in hiding his reactions as the months have passed - tempering the way his gaze and presence constantly gravitates towards Cody when he’s near, having to school his expressions every time he notices himself softening just a little too much - and as the war continues to wear him down, he knows his ability to keep up the charade is cracking.

… Enough so that Anakin has noticed, evidently.

He closes his eyes, pressing his fingers to his temples in a vain attempt to prevent a headache from forming. This would all be very well and fine if not for… he feels his jaw tighten -

That damn kiss.

Obi-Wan had other options at the time, surely - he must have done. So why couldn’t he think of any? Cody couldn’t have said no, not with the stakes as high as they were, and the thought that he might have taken advantage of his Commander’s trust crushes him.

And worse than that - much worse, to Obi-Wan’s mind - the thing that he’s lamenting the most here is that he can never un-know - can never erase the memory of what it felt like to have Cody’s lips move against his, can never forget the taste of the man he can never have in his arms again.

He is, simply put, going to be haunted by the complete knowledge of what he must deny himself for the rest of his days.

His insides roil with shame. How selfish can he be that he’s been more preoccupied with that than the way he undermined Cody’s autonomy?

Sighing, Obi-Wan supposes that he’s spent more than enough time standing in a room with no lights on, behaving more like some angsty teenager with little better to do other than act like a lovesick puppy than a Jedi Master with several incredibly pressing matters to attend to.

His hand hovers near the door controls, not quite activating them yet as he gathers himself back together.

He can make it up to Cody. He will.

Obi-Wan draws on the Force, allowing it to settle his mind as much as he is able. Determination etches itself upon his features as he steps out once more into the hallways of the Temple.

Time to get back to work.

_____________________________

Cody’s fingers curl around the small bottle of painkillers he’s been administered, murmuring a word of thanks over his shoulder as he exits the medbay. As soon as he’s out of sight, he stuffs it into his pocket. Helix means well, but he knows he’ll be fine without them.

He hates feeling compromised, less aware than he usually would be (unless it’s at 79’s after a successful or particularly harrowing campaign, but being drunk always feels different being on painkillers - more in his control, somehow).

Besides, he’s had worse than this - far worse in fact, especially after the healing earlier. All he has to do is push through the pain enough to fall into his bed, and then he can sleep it off.

Easy.

The door to his quarters slides open smoothly ahead of him. Cody’s so tired at this point that he very nearly doesn’t notice the Jedi’s presence at all, until he’s already halfway across the room.

When he does, all he can eloquently muster to say is: “... Oh.”

Obi-Wan is sitting at Cody’s desk, a stack of datapads left on the surface behind him. A few pieces of Cody’s armour lay in his lap, and he’s currently occupied with rubbing a cloth in small, circular motions over the surface of his helmet with a firm yet precise hand. He glances up at Cody’s inelegant noise, offering a warm smile.

“I hope you don’t mind me commandeering your space like this,” he greets softly.

Cody’s eyes are glued to his armour. Being cared for. In Obi-Wan’s lap. The neurons in his brain are firing in an array of different directions, but not one of them seems to be interested in forming a single coherent thought.

“That’s… quite alright,” he somehow manages to respond, the words feeling a little strangled in his throat.

He had given Obi-Wan his express permission to handle it, before.

Early one morning during a campaign out in the field, he’d managed to misplace his bracers in their tent. The Jedi had instinctively picked them up bare handed to pass them over when he found them, and had recoiled in genuine horror when he realised the implications of what he’d just done.

(“I am highly aware,” he had said, glancing guiltily at Cody a minute or so after, once the flush had finally disappeared from his face, “that touching a Mandalorian’s armour without their consent is a grave insult. I can’t apologise enough, Commander. I didn’t think.”

Cody turned, pausing in the midst of fiddling with the straps of his chestpiece.

“We’re…” he had started, not wanting to make Obi-Wan feel awkward. He searched for the right thing to say that didn’t sound too dismissive. “... Not entirely Mandalorian,” was what he eventually settled on. An evasion, perhaps, but he didn’t really know what else to say.

“No, but you and the Vode share aspects of their beliefs all the same. I should have checked.”

They had lapsed into silence after that, donning their armour in tandem as they had on so many mornings of the war before then. Cody had taken the moment of quiet to mull over the thought a little.

It was correct to say that, similar to that of the Mandalorians, a clone’s armour was generally a… personal affair, only ever really handled by themselves and the brothers they were close to, or a partner if they were that lucky.

But the truth of the matter was, Cody hadn’t even thought twice about the Jedi handing the bracers over - it didn’t feel particularly like a faux-pas, and certainly not like a violation of any kind. At the time, he hadn't been entirely certain as to why that was.

“It… is true that it’s a matter of trust,” Cody had slowly begun, and Obi-Wan winced.

“Of course,” he hastily interrupted, his tone one of self-admonishment. “Which is why I’m incredibly sorry I–”

“But I trust you, General,” he added quickly, before the Jedi could apologise again. “I’m fine with you touching my armour, if you ever have the need.”

It was a simple statement, very easily made given all they’d gone through together, but it seemed to take Obi-Wan by surprise all the same. Another flush had coloured the Jedi’s cheeks then, though it looked to be a rather pleased one this time.

“Ah,” he had murmured, looking for all the world like he didn’t quite know what to say. Cody had found it strangely endearing - what a state to reduce the famous ‘negotiator’ to. “Well, I… am honoured, Cody. Thank you.”)

That being said, there is a marked difference between Obi-Wan holding his armour for just a few seconds at a time to hand over or to admire, and… polishing it.

Not that Cody minds. Not that he minds at all. He takes great care to try and shield the way his heart suddenly feels like a drum pounding against his ribs, and offers a shaky smile.

“I thought you would be drowning in reports by now.”

Obi-Wan continues to work on the helmet as Cody realises that he shouldn’t just stand there, gawping in the middle of his room like an idiot. He sits down on the edge of his bed, trying not to give into the temptation to overthink every action he takes in an attempt to look ‘normal’.

His palms feel slightly sweaty as he watches his Jedi expertly apply the polish to the plastoid surface - just as Cody himself would do it. He must have been taking notes.

He doesn’t know the significance, Cody tries to remember, mentally chastising himself for getting so carried away. He’s just being kind. He knows that I would usually do this first thing after a mission, and he doesn’t want me to neglect something so important, just because I’m ill.

“I wanted to check in on you first. What was Helix’s verdict?”

Cody, despite the unexpected distraction sending his system into overdrive, isn’t quite able to stifle a yawn. Stars, he’s tired.

“That I’ll be fine with a little rest,” he answers truthfully. He’s perhaps being deliberately vague about the exact amount of rest that had been prescribed for him, but that’s neither here nor there. “There was a small blip on the brain scans, but he couldn’t seem to figure out the origin. I passed all the cognitive tests, so he’s not particularly concerned.”

Obi-Wan frowns when he hears that, but nonetheless nods slowly. “As long as he’s keeping an eye on you.”

“Rapid healing,” Cody reminds him. “I’ll be fine.”

Obi-Wan hums, unconvinced. Neither of them can really talk when it comes to the other being too blasé about their health, though they always try.

They fall quiet for a moment as the Jedi’s attention returns once again to the work in his lap. Cody’s eyes track the hypnotic movement of his hands, caressing his armour like it means something to him.

Oh, those hands. Those clever hands that he’s watched be equally capable of both excruciating tenderness and exquisite violence.

Stroking the hair of a frightened child or clenching into a fist to crush a battle droid from half a battlefield away; soothing a wild creature or wielding a lightsaber like an instrument of certain death.

Cody has seen those knuckles bloodied as many times from punches as from sewing up wounds… and now here they are, tending to the armour that, by some measures of Mandalorian belief, is tantamount to his soul.

He longs to press his lips to them.

“If it’s all the same to you…” Obi-Wan murmurs, startling Cody from his reverie. “I’d feel more at ease if I could work on the reports here while you rest. Just in case…” the Jedi trails off.

He worries far, far too much, Cody thinks, but he knows Obi-Wan feels guilty about being the one to ‘cause’ the injury in the first place. The Stars above know he’d be fretting just as much were their positions reversed.

He doesn’t really need a moment of consideration, but he pretends to take one anyway. He sleeps better than he ever does when Obi-Wan is on watch nearby, but to tell him so would be saying far too much.

“I don’t mind,” Cody says in an approximation of nonchalance, swinging his legs up onto his cot. Usually he wouldn’t sleep in his blacks unless he’s out in the field, but he’s not exactly about to strip off while Obi-Wan is in here. “I really am fine, but I know that saying that won’t change anything.”

Cody watches Obi-Wan try and suppress a grin as he settles down under the blanket, the Jedi neatly setting down the armour in a pile on the desk and starting on the stack of reports.

“My dear Commander,” Obi-Wan says, clearly attempting to sound woefully put out. “Are you accusing me of being stubborn?”

Cody matches his tone, rolling onto his side with a gasp of offence. “I would never.”

He relishes in the quiet chuckle the joke earns him, tucking that smug sense of satisfaction away into the pocket of his heart that his Jedi has long since made a home in. He loves making him laugh.

Obi-Wan waves his hand in the direction of the entrance to the room, dimming the lights to something he can still work in but that will allow his compatriot to find sleep a little easier. Cody is, as ever, grateful for his thoughtfulness.

“Mm. Well, speaking of stubbornness, my staying here also has the benefit that I can keep an eye on you in the event that you try and wrestle these reports from me to complete yourself,” Obi-Wan returns lightly.

It was a hard won battle to get the Commander to agree to not work tonight, and truth be told, if Cody was feeling the slightest bit better he would be trying to cajole Obi-Wan into letting him help a little. The Jedi knows him well.

That said, Obi-Wan had made him promise.

“When have I ever disobeyed orders?” Cody murmurs, allowing his eyes to slip closed. The darkness is a sweet relief, indeed.

He doesn’t need the Force to sense the incredulous way his General rolls his eyes. “Need I remind you of Halidren?”

“Need I remind you that you have repeatedly stated that you admired my actions on Halidren?”

The Jedi is quiet for a few moments as he considers this, tapping away at the datapad in front of him.

“... That’s besides the point. The point was you suggesting that you’d never gone against orders,” he answers, a gentle mirth in his tone.

Cody lets out a quiet huff of amusement. He’s far too tired for effectively trading words right now - he’s sure he’d have something substantial to counter with were he at full capacity. “Mm… I suppose you win,” he concedes, his voice a soft mumble as sleep begins to call to him. “Maybe you should keep an eye on me, then.”

“It shall be my sacred duty,” Obi-Wan vows, the smile in his voice evident. “Sleep now, Cody.”

It’s a fair request. Cody decides he should probably do as he’s asked. The quiet that falls over the room is punctuated only by the soft sounds of their breathing, the sound of typing, and the occasional unintelligible mutterings from the Jedi as he works.

It’s not long before Cody succumbs to his exhaustion, the peace and safety he feels lulling him to his very needed slumber.

_____________________________

Dreams of Halidren visit Cody that night, the lingering memories of that day flitting through his sleeping mind.

He’s on the dusty ground, and he doesn’t know how long he’s been running, only that his legs ache terribly underneath him as they pound against what remains of the pavement underfoot.

This wasn’t an ordered course of action, he didn’t have permission to split off from the main group. Or perhaps ‘not ordered’ is a little generous. If anything, he’s going directly against command - ‘no detours’ had been the fairly explicit order he’d been given.

He only hopes General Kenobi can forgive him, or he’s in for hell during the debrief later - or perhaps decommissioning, if his new General was inclined to the idea. It doesn’t seem likely from what he’s seen over the past few weeks, but Gods help him, Cody’s willing to risk it.

Regardless, it’s a little too late for regrets now.

He skids through the mud, pulling himself to a stop amongst the debris in front of him. A series of small, attached suburban homes - or at least it was earlier today. The clankers have done no small amount of destruction to the village in the past week, and despite the battalion making progress in pushing them out, the number of civilians that have perished thus far are devastatingly high.

Perhaps that’s the reason why he’s risking so much for this - or maybe it’s the lack of sleep he’s had since this campaign started. All Cody knows is that he doesn’t have much of a choice to back out of this sudden insanity, so he may as well commit.

“Come on, come on…” he mutters to himself, making his way through the ruins. He’d heard it earlier on the long range scanners, he knows he did - Waxer had, too. Maybe he’s too late. Maybe–

The plaintive wail of an infant nearby nearly makes his knees buckle with relief. He was fast enough. They’re still alive.

Cody beelines for the source of the sound, his gloved hands pulling desperately at the wreckage. Just under a collapsed awning, he catches a hint of movement, spying a shock of dust-smeared blue skin.

With shaking hands, he reaches in to gently extract a tiny Pantoran baby from the debris of what would have once been its home. The small thing wriggles and fusses in his arms, clearly terrified. He removes his helmet to hopefully give the infant something to focus on, praying silently that they’ll be calmed by the sight of another person - the last thing he needs is their cries attracting droids to their location.

“Shh, now,” Cody murmurs as soothingly as he can, cradling them carefully to his chest as his heart pounds. They’re so heartbreakingly small, covered in dirt and dust. It’s a wonder they can breathe at all. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Night has fallen by the time he returns to the camp, the little one finally having given into their exhaustion and now sleeping fitfully in his arms.

It’s frankly a miracle that they made it back in one piece, given that Cody had had to stealth past an unexpected patrol of clankers while trying to keep his charge from wailing or fussing, but fortune had seen fit to smile upon them, it seems - a fact that Cody is immeasurably grateful for. Risking his life and position in the GAR by trying to save a single baby would be an action only made more idiotic by dying in the process.

The sight of the stoic Commander clutching the baby so protectively to his chest draws a few stares from his men as he moves through the camp, but he pays them no mind. He can answer all of their questions later, but for the moment, a sense of urgency fills him.

He’s careful not to jostle the little one too much in his arms as he breaks into a light jog, heading over to the command tent. There’s not much point in delaying the matter - he knows he’s messed up fairly spectacularly, but he has enough pride to at least face his punishment head on.

Even at this time of night, Halidren is not particularly a dark planet. Their camp is lit up by a number of glowing insects, all fluttering around the soft lantern light that emanates from the tent at the centre. On previous nights, Cody might be moved to call such a sight ‘pretty’. Tonight, however, ‘ominous’ seems to fit the bill much more accurately.

Cody hesitates just briefly outside the entrance of the tent, overhearing voices within.

“Be that as it may, Waxer,” the Jedi says, his voice as even and calm as ever, “I would rather like to hear the Commander’s explanation in his own words.”

“Sir, it really was my idea,” Waxer protests in turn. Cody sighs to himself. Of course the loyal fool is trying to take the fall for him. He squares his shoulders, pushing open the tent flap. “Cody didn’t–”

“I can speak for myself, thank you, Lieutenant,” Cody interrupts as he steps through. He meets his General’s gaze briefly, trying to discern just how much trouble he’s in from his expression alone. Kenobi remains as unreadably passive as ever.

They’re… friendly, with one another, despite it still being early days. More than that, even - Cody had seen fit to give the General his name not long ago, after all - but he still can’t predict how he’s going to react to insubordination quite like this.

Waxer turns, visibly breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of his Commander and the infant currently resting against Cody’s chest, both unharmed. He never was very good at hiding his emotions.

“You’re dismissed, Waxer,” Obi-Wan commands softly. The Lieutenant salutes and dips out of the tent, but not before giving Cody a small, supportive nod.

For a long, tense moment, the only sound that fills the tent is the soft breaths of the sleeping baby as they clutch at the edge of Cody’s chestplate.

“So,” the General starts, his eyes lingering on them as they wriggle in their sleep. “This is who I have to thank for my Commander running off on his own, then?”

Cody shifts the little one in his arms protectively, holding Obi-Wan’s gaze. Nervousness claws at his chest, but he doesn’t let it show. He doesn’t regret this decision, and there’s no point in pretending to be sheepish - he stands by his choice, unwaveringly.

“I tried your comms, sir,” he says, steady yet quiet, so as not to wake the little one, “but they were inactive at the time. The droids were closing in on that quadrant. I had to make a call.”

“Absolutely you did, Commander,” the Jedi replies, folding his hands in front of him. “An incredibly reckless call at that. If you had died while out there, this entire campaign might have been compromised.”

He steps around the holotable in the centre of the tent, stopping just short of the Commander. Cody stands tall, despite the part of his mind that insists he shrink into himself.

“And,” Obi-Wan continues, “I’m sure you know that the GAR rulebook would command you to have stayed put. Orders from a CO should be absolute, regardless of how you feel about following them - unless you believe that to do so would be to commit treason.”

He pauses briefly, before his expression breaks into a small, approving smile. “So let it be said, I am immensely grateful to have the head of my battalion know when to make his own calls.”

Cody blinks.

No reprimand? Not even a slight slap on the wrist?

“... Sir?” he prompts, bewildered.

A soft whimpering sound comes from the Pantoran between them as they start to wake, and Obi-Wan closes his eyes, pressing his palm to the baby’s forehead. Cody watches as they near immediately fall back to sleep, soothed by whatever is being channeled to them through the Force.

The small tent feels as if it’s become a factor more peaceful around the two of them, though whether that’s through an excess of soothing energies from Obi-Wan’s use of the Force filling the space or just the sheer relief he’s feeling, Cody isn’t sure.

“I cannot in good conscience fault you for a reckless decision that I myself would have made,” Obi-Wan murmurs softly, opening his eyes again. An amused smirk tugs at his lips. “Though let it be said that I may have had a few concerns, had you not properly informed your squad beforehand and delegated responsibility… but it seems that even in your rebellious moments, you remain one of the most organised people I know.”

Cody offers Obi-Wan a tentative smile, a sense of pride swelling up within him at the assessment.

“I’m… glad you see it that way, sir,” he says, “I just… when we heard the crying over our scanners, I couldn’t…” he shakes his head as his gaze falls to the once again sleeping little one, carefully adjusting them in his arms.

When Cody looks back up at Obi-Wan, he realises the Jedi has been watching him with an expression that borders on tender. He feels a flush prickle at his neck, noticing just how close they’re standing.

“Your empathy is a remarkable quality, Commander,” Obi-Wan murmurs sincerely, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And the fact that you were willing to risk court martial for the life of an innocent speaks volumes to your character. I’m incredibly grateful to have been paired with you and the 212th.”

If Cody wasn’t flushing before, he is now.

“Thank you, General,” he manages to say without stammering, “To speak freely, I’m… incredibly glad we’re aligned in this matter.”

The Jedi smiles, a warm and sincere thing, before he turns back to face the holotable and clears his throat quietly.

“We’ll bring the child back to the rest of the rescued civilians,” Obi-Wan says, his voice once more his usual tone of calm and command. “Their parents may not be around any longer, but I’m certain some family or neighbours will be.”

He turns his head, giving the Commander a small nod. His eyes betray the pride he feels in Cody’s actions, and Cody tries very, very hard to not let it go to his head. A little bit of it does, regardless. “Thank you very much, Cody. That will be all.”

_____________________________

The lights are still out when Cody’s eyes flutter open, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Not quite morning, his internal clock tells him, but perhaps somewhat close to it.

He’s warmer than usual - likely the reason why he’s woken up at this hour, he suspects - and it slowly dawns on him that he’s still in his full under-armour gear. With a small groan, he pulls himself into a sitting position. He’s about to pull off his shirt when he hears a quiet sigh from a few paces away.

Startled, Cody’s head snaps around to the source of the noise, already reaching for the blaster under his pillow before he realises what - or, more accurately, who - is sharing his room tonight.

Obi-Wan is still at Cody’s desk, crumpled over with his cheek pressed to the surface. He must have fallen asleep some time ago.

Cody exhales deeply, the panic of a potential threat fading slowly from his system. It’s definitely not the first time one of them has fallen asleep in the other’s room, he just hadn’t been expecting it this morning.

It seems that Obi-Wan really had been serious about keeping an eye on him in case the concussion proved to be worse than they’d thought - Cody can’t help but smile a little at that. He might think it’s ridiculous and over-cautious, but it’s sweet that he cares.

He stills for a moment, watching the way that little curl of hair the Jedi usually keeps pushed back from his forehead flops over his face, stirring with each exhale of breath. It would be endearing if the position he’s in didn’t look so uncomfortable.

Checking the chrono at his wrist, Cody takes a moment to stretch his upper body, relieving the kinks in his back with a muffled grunt before slowly rising from the bed.

It’s 05:30, decidedly late enough that he may as well get a head start on training, prep the meeting room before they officially start for the day - he knows he won’t get more sleep tonight, so trying feels fairly useless.

He doesn’t want to risk waking Obi-Wan, so he resolves to shower and shave in the communal bathrooms - the boys won’t mind, he’s sure. It’s become a personal rule of thumb to never interrupt the General when he’s out like this, given how he seems to struggle to rest more often than not. He deserves every extra minute he can eke out, Cody thinks fondly.

As he turns to leave, he glances back at the Jedi, the slightest of frowns passing over his features. He… can’t just leave him in such an awkward position, can he?

Cody sighs, knowing he has to do something about this, just not sure what. He glances between Obi-Wan and the bed - he can’t exactly carry him over there without disturbing him. A compromise will have to do, then.

After a moment of thought, Cody takes the topmost blanket from his bed and drapes it over the Jedi’s shoulders, stilling briefly at the contented sigh that this elicits from his sleeping companion.

He hunts through his room for something he can use as a flat enough pillow so that he doesn’t have to adjust Obi-Wan’s head too much, and settles on an old civvie jacket that’s considerably tattered, but good enough for this purpose, he thinks.

He folds it up, gently nudging it underneath the Jedi’s cheek. Even when unconscious, Obi-Wan seems to read his intentions well, as he soon shifts to nuzzle his face into the fabric, miraculously barely stirring at the interruption.

Cody can’t help the smile that softens his features at the sight. He wars with himself internally, before his sense of longing wins out over his propriety.

Slowly, he dips his head, brushing the lightest of kisses to Obi-Wan’s temple.

Sleep well, cyare, he thinks, but doesn’t dare to voice aloud as he retreats back to the threshold of his room, leaving Obi-Wan to what he hopes will be a much more comfortable rest now.

They’ll be back to normal from today, he muses to himself - no undercover aliases to affect the way they look and act, no need for unnecessary physical closeness and touch.

The realisations he’s had about his feelings, while unexpected and unbalancing for a time, are things he can brush to the side: that he can acknowledge, but still lock away.

They are, in the grand scheme of things, unimportant to his day to day life, at least for the moment. The war takes precedent, as it should.

Obi-Wan never has to find out, he reasons, though a part of Cody aches tremendously at that idea. He soothes that small, protesting voice by imagining that perhaps one day, after the war is over, he can find a way to broach the topic with him. Not that he expects any kind of returned sentiment, of course - such a thing would be almost laughable - but just to get this tremendous weight off of his chest, so there can be no secrets between them once more.

Cody nods decisively as he makes his way down to the training rooms. Yes, that sounds reasonable. He can work with that, he thinks.

He hopes.

✷✷✷✷✷

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @mitth-eli-vanto

#codywan #aspentreewrites #star wars fanfiction #cody x obi wan #my fics #tcw #commander cody #commander cody x obi wan #flowers & cannons #cody x obi wan kenobi #codywan fic

16 notes · View notes

obsessedwithstarwars · 6 months ago

Text

Question for the DP fandom:

Do you think Danny’s hair turns white when it falls out? It’s technically dead cells anyway but when it naturally falls off his head, do you think it turns white? Because I think it would be hilarious if his hairbrush just has white hair, no black strands whatsoever, and his significant other thought the worst until they know his secret.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #dc x dp au #sorry it’s a no thoughts head empty kind of night #I know it’s a dumb thing to think about #but it was a shower thought and sometimes those are good #I just think it could bring so much angst to the plot #any plot #like Tim or Damian or whoever you want his significant other to be could think the worst #it would be something they’d notice for sure #could even be Tucker until Sam reminds him that he’s an idiot and their idiot boyfriend turns into a ghost #or it could be another small thing Jazz has to explain away to their parents #she makes up a whole person that is friends with Danny and it becomes a thing #I know it’s gaslighting and I’m not sure she’d do it but it’d be funny #his name is Garrett and he’s one of Danny’s best friends mom. Jeez how do you not know this #or what if Jason’s hair turns white too and that’s when it clicks for Jazz that he is not completely human #if Jazz is liminal her hair could be blue and boy would that be fun to explain #HER HAIR IS BLUE AND SHE HAS FEELINGS ABOUT IT OKAY #all caps on purpose #because I for sure would be freaking out if my hair was the wrong color in the hairbrush #I would purposely pluck a strand and watch it change then freak out #anger management ship #hardcover ship #everlasting trio

683 notes · View notes

theshadowrealmitself · 2 years ago

Text

Harry Osborn who Knows™️ about Peter being Spiderman, seeing him about to be caught by a supervillain and almost having his identity being revealed around a huge crowd of people, panicking and doing the only thing he can think of, which is slamming into the villain with his car, and trying to play it off afterward like “oh man, typical rich dude of me to fail at driving, since I’m usually driven around by a chauffeur, totally didn’t mean to slam into this dude for any specific reason”

#not sure how to make it clear in this post #but it’s like a villain noticing Peter do something or say something that only Spiderman would #and they’re about to grab him while calling for other villains to force him to reveal himself in front of a crowd #so Harry can’t play it off as being a hero #because then they’d be like ‘oh why was this villain trying to get at this specific guy’#so instead he’s like ‘oof..my bad…hashtag terrible driver’#Spiderman #spider man #spider-man #Peter Parker #Harry Osborn

593 notes · View notes

waywardstation · 10 months ago

Text

WIP FRIDAY

I apologize for getting this out two days late, I’ve been busy with lots of packing and events! But I have a little reprieve, so I wanted to post another WIP; this one is from Heart Full, Bowl Empty.

BE AWARE THAT THIS SEGMENT INVOLVES A CONVERSATION REVOLVING AROUND UNWILLING BUT INTENTIONAL STARVATION. I know there are people who say they can’t read this fic because of themes like this, so be aware of this before reading this WIP!!

I included this snippet in today’s WIP because I have like three versions of the entire segment this snippet is from. I feel like it’s a really important segment with a really important conversation, and I’ve had a hard time balancing all the emotions the way I want to between Ingo and Akari, with frustration, sadness, anger, and empathy, to realistically get them to the resolution I want at the end of it.

The final version will probably only include a few parts from this particular segment.

Enjoy!!

—————

“I knew it! You’re doing it again!” Akari’s eyebrows scrunched, trying to understand through the frustration. “You said you wouldn’t!”

“Circumstances will improve soon.” Clearly done with the conversation, that was all Ingo said, but it was confession enough that he had fallen back on his word. Shame contaminated his voice, but if there was any regret, he hid it well.

“No, it won’t!” They were not even half-way through winter yet. “And you know it won’t!”

Ingo said nothing as the kits carefully moved around his slumped form, finding comfortable places to settle around him. She didn’t know if he intended to snuff the conversation out with angered silence, or if he was just too exhausted to care about arguing with her anymore. If it wasn’t for his small occasional signs of movement or acknowledgement, she’d think he was actually sleeping.

Akari carefully stepped into the nesting layers, moving to sit down next to Ingo. She settled with her back against the cavern wall, pulling her knees close as a few kits shuffled around to accommodate her. “You know I’m right.”

Huffing out an irritated sigh and nothing more, it didn’t seem like Ingo had any intentions to engage with her argument anymore.

“You couldn’t even pull yourself up over the ridge,” She prodded at him again, trying to motivate more conversation out of him. “I had to help you!”

“There are many, many factors that go into that.” A reluctant answer, perhaps a reflexive attempt to quell her worry; Ingo feebly rubbed his wrapped hand, almost as a display for his excuse.

“I’ve seen you do more when you’ve been hurt worse.” Akari retorted, a little softer now but still cold.

Ingo’s eyes remained closed, though his hardened expression implied that it came across as more accusatory than she’d intended. But perhaps it was precisely the time to be accusatory.

“Ingo, you’re so tired all the time now – you stopped coming to the training grounds because you just can’t make the trips all the time anymore! And you’re sleeping so much more than you used to, and it’s like you’re always hungry all the time, even though all I see you doing anymore is gathering food!” Akari’s voice grew more jagged as she continued to jab at him, entirely uninterrupted.

It was getting difficult. With Ingo’s tunic still sopping by the bucket, still somewhat red from the exhausted effort of washing out the blood, it could not hide the ribs that pressed out just a little bit more, or help fill out what the waistline had lost under the loosening belt. The abject dread of directly acknowledging that was too much.

“And- and look! You aren’t even willing to hold a conversation with me anymore, and I don’t know if it’s because you just won’t, or because you can’t!” The kits shifted uncomfortably as Akari retreated back into her own frustration instead. “People think you’re sick, Ingo! They’re asking me about you! What are you doing?”

The exhausted man remained where he laid in the nesting material, only moving his hands to rub at his face and sigh — a deep, forced sigh that swelled his side before releasing. Akari almost didn’t think he’d answer her, but with some effort, he propped himself up first onto his elbows, then slumped forward. The teen watched him run shaky fingers through his hair as he sat next to her.

“…I don’t know what I should do.” The guilt. The weary guilt cracked his voice and tore Akari’s anger down to heartache.

#ref for fic #BE AWARE THIS IS DISCUSSING INTENTIONAL BUT UNWILLING STARVATION #tw starvation #just in case #cause I know not everyone vibes with this story #and I’ll say it’s been weird myself returning to these segments I wrote months ago and re-reading them #AND TO BE MORE CAREFUL I talk about a personal situation sort of dealing with this below #a lot has happened in the timeframe of originally writing this and coming back to this #at the end of fall I got very very sick and it lasted well into February #I unwillingly shed thirty-five pounds because I could not eat #and I didn’t notice at all until I stopped and realized just how tight I had to make my work belt #even when family members pointed it out during the holidays when they’d hug me #it wasn’t until someone got very concerned and did something about it that I realized just how bad it was #I’m sure people remember when I mentioned I had gastritis #that’s what all this was I just never really went into detail about how bad it truely was here #so coming back and reading this segment specifically #having written it months before I went through any of this #felt really really weird and a little uncomfortable #I edited Akari’s accusations a little to fit my situation more about a month back #because I did not realize just how much more stuff like this would make you want to sleep #at least in my experience #but it’s been very very just #strange I guess coming back to this #it doesn’t make me want to not work on HFBE anymore it just feels very weird

30 notes · View notes

idkhowtopickausername · 1 year ago

Text

I’ve really not been functioning well mentally lately 😔

#I can’t seem to do my assignments and everytime I sit down to I just space out again and again and forget what I was even doing #I missed my bus stop last week and didn’t notice for a while and had to bus back at 11 at night #i made two kind of scary mistakes while driving today that I would usually never make #even an event I wanted to go to I ended up missing because I spaced out and was 20 minutes late and by then they’d left #I kept forgetting what I was doing in the middle of making dinner and talking to my mom on the phone #I haven’t even eaten dinner and it’s 3am and there’s soggy pasta in the pot that I never got to straining or putting sauce on #I have turned in very few assignments and I keep getting zeroes and I’m pretty sure I flunked a midterm because I couldn’t focus when I #tried to study #I’m worried I’ll genuinely fail out of college this time but I don’t want to leave bc I at least sort of have friends here now who is miss #*I’d #people keep recommending me like focus apps and setting timers and stuff but I forget about those too #I just feel like I’m on a completely different wavelength like I’ve procrastinated before but this is different #like I don’t even remember that I’m supposed to be doing something until I suddenly remember and start to do it and then I forget again #this has never happened before I don’t know what to do #personal

6 notes · View notes

screampied · 3 months ago

Text

JUNO, YOU KNOW! k. nanami

☆ sum. last thing nanami would expect was to get struck by a “fatal” love curse during the very end of no nut november. you tease him even more by saying one of you is cute….but two though?

wc. 8.1k

warnings. fem! reader, husband! nanami, unprotected, sēx pollen, mentions of pregnancy, fluffy smut <3, handcuffs, brēeding, cunnīlingus, him finishing too quick, cowgirl, praise, soft dom! nanami, cērvix mentions, size kink, he's soooo whipped n in love w youuu, (bless his dad's genetics), boob obsessed nanami, aftercare, petnames.

an. my entry for @luv-lies's yummy nnn collab! ❤︎

november 29th, 2024. 6:09 P.M.

december was right around the corner - but oh, was nanami kento fuckin’ screwed.

“nanamin!” satoru—his colleague hollered, speedily rushing over to him. they’d just defeated an unarmed A-cursed spirit unlike any they’d ever seen before. it was quite strong, but it was nothing the pair couldn’t handle. satoru glances down, extending out his hand. nanami grunts, swiping a hand over his sweat-glossed forehead before sighing. he’s a bit roughed up but takes satoru’s cold palm with an irked grumble. “you alright? that was quite the hard hit.”

“ ‘m fine, gojo,” he grouses, readjusting his glasses. with a swift hand, he fixes his crooked tie. “just hah- underestimated the opponent. don’t fret.”

he wasn’t ‘just fine’ though. nanami felt his entire body starting to arise with scorching temperature within a matter of seconds. he’s boiling hot- and it felt like his heart was pounding straight out of his chest. perplexed, satoru furrows a snowy brow at his comrade once he notices his awkward body language.

“what do you need? tell me- maybe we can-”

nanami was clenching his chest with one hand, panting heavily before letting off a raspy huff.

“i need . . my wife.”

the car ride home was silent.

satoru offered to take him home, wondering just what really happened. nanami was as stubborn as a mule though, so he didn’t question it further. he’d rather not get scolded. his head rests against the tented window as he stares outside.

driving through the rutted bumpy roads of tokyo, nanami’s droopy eyes occasionally drifted away from the bright street lights that merely blinded his naked eye from gazing a bit too long.

as usual, the city was packed, dozens of cars zooming by with the flashy beaming store signs. in the background, some random song was playing. it was pop—and of course, satoru was loudly humming along to the catchy poppy melody.

the lyrics were quite . . vulgar though, but nanami still remained quiet, focusing his eyes on the streets.

skrrrrrrrt!

satoru’s breaks eventually come to a stop. it was about maybe a good ten-minute drive and he arrived at you and nanami’s cozy minka. the light was on so he assumed you were probably still up. placing the rusty shift in the park, the white-haired sorcerer turns to nanami with a cheeky grin.

“take it easy, alright? ‘m sure the curse will wear off at some point,” and nanami scoffs once his palm pats his shoulder. reaching for his seatbelt, the blond click it off before unlocking the door. “oh! and tell your wifey i said hi!”

“sure thing, gojo.” nanami stops himself from rolling his eyes, reaching near the backseat to retrieve his dusty suitcase. with a loud vroooom, satoru’s aqua-blue convertible takes off and nanami starts to make his way toward the door.

glancing down, he fishes for his keys in his pocket, grumbling under his breath.

god- he feels so damn hot. even hotter than when the attack occurred..

was this supposed to be normal?

all he knew was that he wanted, no- he needed you.

something in his body . . whatever it was, was direly aching for you.

the entire car ride, nanami’s mind was entirely flooded with thoughts of you, you, and only you.

whenever he had missions, he’d always think about you, sure. but this time- this time was far, far different.

he felt like he was gonna melt right away if he didn’t touch you, if he didn’t smell you-

“ken…to?” you murmur with a quirked brow, standing behind the tall sliding door. nanami stiffly stood at the doorway, keys still idly in hand with the most dumbfounded look.

oh- he was so kept in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize you had already slid the door open.

you looked so pretty though. nanami could feel his face softening once his eyes locked onto you.

it was pretty dark at night but like always, he could make out your gorgeous physique as clear as day. you were actually wearing one of his business shirts with what he hoped were panties underneath once he took a glance between your bare thighs.

his fawn eyes continue to trace down every exposing inch of your skin, and he snaps back into reality once he feels your palm cup his cheek.

“hi, baby. how was the mission?” you hum.

“not hah- that good,” he pants, and you furrow your brows once he steps inside, sliding the door closed and tossing his suitcase to the floor. it lands with a banging thud, and nanami pulls you into a hug.

a coy smile goes against your lips, wondering why he’s being more clingy than usual, but nanami rests his face right on top of your chest. letting off a smoky sigh, he roughly grumbles, gently rubbing a thumb against your hips. “mmf- i missed you, sweetheart.”

with a soft expression, you comb a few tangled fingers through his blond tresses. “i missed you more.”

“no- i really missed you,” he protests, and you can see a bit of a pout forming against his lips. nanami’s drowsy eyes trail down at the bit of skin that shows through his shirt. it was a bit loosely oversized, and you smelled just like him. his cologne was good on you. so good.

uh oh- he was starting to feel even more hot.

just resting against your chest had him hearing the repetitively unsteady beats of his heart through each of his sensitive pointed ears. “at the mission today . . i got struck by a curse.”

with a worrying look, your face shifts into a look of concern. “a- are you okay? what happened?”

“ ‘m fine,” he lets out a muffled huff of reassurance. nanami breathes against your skin, sweetly planting kisses against the cotton fabric that shields the entirety of your chest. “i feel really hot though.. everywhere- not just my head,” he speaks once the back of your hand lands on his forehead, checking for a temperature.

indeed, he felt hot.

sepia-colored irises flicker up toward you before he shivers. “when you . . touch me, honey- it makes me feel weak. hah- like i feel-”

“aroused?” you finish his sentence, your concerned look slowly disappearing.

oh.

thankfully, it wasn’t anything serious . . or was it?

nanami stares at you with a cute head nod being his answer as you press a kiss on his warm forehead. “so was it some type of love curse?”

nanami’s breath becomes deeper as he takes a minute to formulate words in his overstimulated brain. “m- maybe. all i know is that i just- i want you…i need you,” and he sighs deeply, eyes lowering. “you look beautiful tonight by the way.”

“it’s still november, baby,” you tease, knowing exactly where he was going with his gruff words. nanami had a feral hungry look in his eyes, and it looked like no other expression of his you’ve seen before.

he lets off a frustrated groan at your words, remembering the little ‘challenge’ you both agreed on once halloween ended.

ah- ‘no nut november’.

where men have to apparently abstain from masturbation and cumming—according to you, specially for the entire month of november.

not that nanami necessarily minded, he had a pretty good tolerance, actually.

but today, of all days?

he felt like he was about to break. being so close to your proximity had nanami’s head spinning.

his face - it’s overly flushed. a pretty tint of pink starts to slowly paint his face as he pouts at you.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen your husband like this—let alone pout. “we made a deal, remember?” you continue, caressing a thumb across his cheek. his chin was still resting on your chest and you could see the frown marinating against his features. “december first.”

“but-” he grunts, watching the smug grin spread across your glossed lips. nanami gets sheepish, tilting his head down. “sweetheart- i know that, but you’re bein’ pretty cruel right now, no?” and you glance down, feeling his lips collide against the skin that briefly exposes your tummy. “do you always wear my work shirts when i’m not home?”

“yeaaah,” you admit, letting off a tiny snicker. nanami feels your shoulders slacken once you release a single breath, and you stare straight into his eyes.

his eyes however, never left yours, not for a millisecond. as the gaze continued, you could see the beads of sweat starting to race down each side of his forehead.

oh-

maybe the curse was serious. getting an idea you decide to amp up your teasing just a bit. “do you wanna know what i was doing earlier while wearing your dress shirt?”

nanami places chaste kisses between the valley of your breasts. “uh huh. tell me, wifey.”

“i . . might’ve been playin’ with myself,” you sweetly speak, and he could hear the tease lacing underneath your sentence.

the more you spoke about what you were doing, nanami was starting to feel even hotter-

and the pure image of you touching yourself with his button-front shirt on, engulfed in nothing but his musky cologne made him groan. it was clear you weren’t wearing panties. he couldn’t help but peek, and sure enough—you were going commando.

nanami keeps his lovingly longing gaze and slowly, he raises his head from between your chest, raising a brow as if silently saying, ‘continue.’

with a cheeky smile, you wrap your arms around his torso. “i couldn’t make myself finish though. my fingers aren’t as long as yours. so, i ended up falling asleep and i had a dream. about . . us.”

“i see,” nanami huskily utters, sinking his head into your left shoulder. you just smelled so so sweet — sweeter ever, and you could see nanami trying to restrain himself. clearing his throat, nanami invades an entire side of your neck with wet, loving kisses. “what was the dream, princess?”

now it was your turn for your heart to start racing.

it was quick, beating at such high beats per minute. with an impish expression, you cup his chin and make him face you.

tenderly rubbing a thumb over his lips, you finish what your cute, lewd admission. “i…uh- dreamt about you retiring as a sorcerer. or you have a safer job that makes you less stressed. we finally . . settled down, and we um . . ended up having kids.”

“kids, huh,” he whispers, dragging a hand through his blond strands. you could feel his feverish heat radiate against your skin and you were surrounded by his balmy warmth.

he wasn’t exaggerating—nanami was truly, truly burning up. the buds on his tongue sizzle each time he takes a fateful second to swallow, salivating the more his eyes focus on you. nanami ponders for a moment silently, and before you know it, he’s picking you up.

you let off a cute surprised gasp, hurling your arms around his neck before watching him sigh. “ah- don’t get shy, my sweet. keep going.”

nanami continues to walk with you in his arms, going up the creaking, wooden stairs and you run a few fingers down your exposed nape.

“we . . had about maybe two or three. you even started growing facial hair too,” and nanami’s grip on your hips softens. he raises a blond brow before trodding inside the quiet bedroom. “you’d make a good dad though, ken,” you purr, running a finger down his amber-dotted tie. “could you imagine though? one of me is cute, but two though?”

“honey-” he cuts off, lying you flat back against the mattress.

with a split-second glimpse underneath the oversized formal shirt you wore—indeed, you weren’t wearing any panties. he had to check just one more time.

nanami starts to pant heavily, watching as you playfully lift your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. “is that- is that what you want? to settle down?”

“only if . . you want to.” you murmur in a soft tone, deeply getting lost in his golden-hour gaze.

nanami’s eyes were bright, shining with nothing but love and adoration for you - always.

if you squinted just enough, you could see his pupils forming into cute-shaped hearts.

grabbing his hand, you place it on your tummy, sliding it underneath the buttoned shirt.

“i want… you,” he huffs, his voice turning from tender to raspy within seconds. nanami leans in and presses his lips against yours. his dimples happily curve forward once you immediately return the gesture, cupping his face with both hands.

right away, nanami moans against your lips as his hot tongue blissfully shoves itself inside your mouth. minty peppermint — it’s exactly what he tasted like, and his cool breath running against your tongue only made him taste sweeter.

nanami couldn’t help but roll his hips against you with his sweaty forehead softly pressed on top of yours.

each popping smack of hungry lips got louder, and he heard the faint clanks of his belt shuffling. you slid a hand down, reaching for the middle part of his pants. you’ve shared many kisses with nanami, but this one seemed different..

a current of chills ran down your spine as he deepened the passionate kiss as the callused tips of nanami’s fingers unbuttoned his shirt.

speaking of his shirt though—he just couldn’t get over how much his shirt was just prettily glued against your skin.

“god- this month’s been torture, sweetheart,” he’d breathe between nearly suffocating kisses.

nanami’s lungs were full, and he’d sometimes even forget to breathe. such full lungs of his were heaving in and out continuously, desperate for any sort of puffs.

they had to find air, they just had to..

but nanami didn’t care about breathing, not when he had his lips ardently locked against yours.

“couldn’t- stop- thinkin’- ‘bout- you-” he grunted in a hoarse tone, sweetly sucking against your lolled tongue. its mushy warmth invites him to continue, and you briefly open your lashes to stare straight into a very needy nanami’s eyes. “hah- you were all i thought about at work today.”

“mhm, breathe, kento,” you whisper, feeling your lips swell the minute he pulls away.

a web of gluey saliva leaves from both sets of puffed lips and he breathes like you said. with a looooong inhale, nanami then exhales before grunting. you simper, tugging on the hem of his beige boxers. “maybe i can . . help with that curse?”

and you did.

in more ways than one, really.

to be brief, nanami kento was a feral man-

he felt himself turning into a brand new man the second his tongue graciously rolls itself flat against the flatness of your pretty twitching clit.

a sharp gasp winds straight out of your lungs as you’re sat with your legs obtusely spread to a wide degree.

with your hands burying themselves underneath your plushy tits as he devoured you—you couldn’t help but toy with yourself for a bit. moaning, a thumb trails its way down against one of your puckered nipples that poke through the fleecy blue dress shirt.

“k- kentooo.” you’d hum out a whimper, a hand finding its way near the top of his head.

he’s slow… badly wanting to savor your sweet taste on his tongue while eating you out like the starved, starved man that he was.

wisping a bundle of fingers through his blond locks, you continue to cup one of your tits with one hand. long, thirsty sluuuurps exited from nanami’s lips as you watched his head frantically shake from side to side.

your tummy was already seizing, and the heel of your ankle started to guide its way down his back. wet, sloshing noises ricocheted against nanami’s lips as his eyes periodically averted back towards you.

he’s giving you the ‘i wanna marry you again’ stare, no doubt. even with his mouth stuffed, nanami kento’s never felt more in love—

maybe this love curse . . pollen, whatever it was was a secret blessing in disguise.

the panicky, racing beats of nanami’s heart never slowed, and a hand of his then grips your thigh. tenderly, you feel the tip of his tongue dipping its way in ‘n out — wetly lathering his pink twitching muscle with your sweet slickness.

your eyes remain on him the entire time, getting forevermore lost in his crave-like gaze. “shh- talk later, princess. promise.” he whispers against your cunt, delving his tongue in swerving, wide circles.

those wide circles eventually curve their way into hearts, though. a whine sobs its way from the back of your throat as the grip on his hair tightens.

you felt the scaly, hot of his tongue create the perfect heart . . even spelling out the simple eight letters of ‘i love you.’

your legs couldn’t hold still, they just couldn’t- and you could feel the skittish smile forming against his lips, tickling against your pussy.

you were drooling from your entrance, right from the puffy slavering slit down. you’re flooded, soddened with such amounts of dewy dewdrops that form into strings, and in a way though, it was pretty.

nanami was just struck in awe at how much you were just profusely leaking. like the gentleman nanami was though, he lapped it right up. his rose-swollen lips cupped everywhere, smothering the crevices of your sheeny thighs with his many, many kisses.

“r- riiiight there, ‘ken,” you’d mewl out a desperate plea, slowly dragging his head against your cunt. it’s moving around in a hypnotizing circle, but if it was anything that was leaving you in a mere trance of a state, it was his tongue.

nanami explores through every puffy wet corner, sloppily slotting his tongue in between your pudgy folds. he grunts against your throbbing heat, feeling the weight of his impatient boner prodding beneath his cotton-made boxers. “mngh- gonna cum. ‘m gonna cum, kento.”

“do it for me,” he soundlessly says, vertically smearing a fat thumb down your slimy pussy.

your entrance was soaked-

tearing away with drooling droplets of slick. every time. he was so enticed that he had to take a minute to just stare at your cunt—admiring how wet his pretty, perfect girl was - just for him.

nanami was entranced once he moved his face closer. the tip of his button nose then literally starts to drag itself down your sobbing slit and he moans, taking in your natural scent. “hah- c’mon, sweetheart. give it t’ me,” and he brings his ring finger right up against your core.

it’s a lanky finger that starts to bedaub against your cunt, feeling you writhe at the sensitive contact.

you whine, feeling his ring finger rub its way against your heat before poking your tongue against your cheek to silence yourself.

as you watch, his digit gets covered with your mess almost immediately, and you shudder at the cold band of his ring toying with your salivating folds. “pretty please-” and oh- he’s begging.

a blond brow of nanami’s quivers as his lips attach back to your cunt. sticky, glistening strings of arousal rills straight down his forward-pointed chin as he continues to rub the back of his wedding ring against your pulsating clit.

it’s icy cold.. you felt him keep up the pace as the material of the band smears itself around in circles before feeling a coil in your tummy tightening.

the pressure makes you see stars for a hot second—and you’re met with a bundle of nerves trying to introduce itself to the lower depths of your stomach. “ ‘m cumming!” you’d blurt in a staggering wail.

the crashing wave of endorphins made you exhale a cute sigh as your legs started to get more and more numb.

you felt like you were floating on every single cloud, including cloud nine - especially cloud nine.

nanami’s tongue still slid its way in between the slot your sappy folds, feeling the cute twitches of your throbbing clit against his bumpy tastebuds as you start to spasm. “fuh- fuck! ‘ken ‘m sensitive, baby.” and your words turn into a mere hush once your body started to limp its way onto the sheets.

your thighs locked around his neck, and you still had his hair in a firm grasp, digging your fingers deep into his roots and scalp.

with widened doe-eyes, you glance back down toward your husband who’s merrily licking you clean without a single care in the world.

if the beats of your heart was a car, you’d be speeding.

it’s beating so fast out of your chest that you can barely keep up. your legs felt like mush as your neck finally gave up, collapsing back against your pillow.

“mmh- should’ve just stayed . . hah- stayed home today,” he grumbles, giving every glossed part of your exposed cunt individual kisses. nanami starts at your pretty clitoral hood, sprightly nibbling at the tender fold of skin. you whine, yanking his head forward before nanami pats your pussy. “could’ve been playin’ with her a- all day.”

“you’re here now.” you speak out of breath, pulling his head back up. once you do so, nanami looks at you with the most pussy drunk expression.

his lips were all plump and red, lashes merely sticking together, and glossed sleek streams of slick racing down his chin. nanami leans into your touch, sitting up before leaning in to kiss you.

again- his tongue sloppily carved a wet trail through your mouth, and you moan once you feel the tint of his boner press up against your bare cunt.

he’s so hard, you wondered if it was painful. you swallowed each grunt of his in your mouth, feeling his body hungrily rock against yours.

a few ash tresses stick against his forehead as his lips violently crash onto yours—creating an impactful collision.

as dancing tongues swiftly twisted and spiraled around each other in sync, you hear a bit of shuffling again.

nanami's reaching into his boxers, grunting against your lips once he feels the anchoring weight of his heavy cock lie flat against his palm. “m- mhm, sweetheart.” he throatily groans, feeling your hand slip inside of his boxers too.

you feel a lightning-shaped vein shoot down his skin and he grunts. nanami was as sensitive as ever, and with your hands softly tracing circles over his bulky triceps, he knew he was in trouble.

deep, deep trouble..

“it’s okay, ‘ken,” you whisper, letting off a sharp inhale once his fiery hot tip smears its way on your cunt.

it’s almost flat out rude at first—with the way it smacks against your folds, creating a wet splash that lands right on his bulbous crown.

from the stout tip that’s round at all thick corners, nanami’s leaking.

milky, pearls of whiteness dribble from the fleshy sides of his fat cock and he grunts once he feels your shaky legs caging him in again.

god- you looked so pretty like this..

just laid back, wearing nothing but his business shirt. all the buttons were unbuttoned so now—it was just you, breasts cutely sprung out and all.

gently grabbing his face once more, you mumble against his flushed temple. “inside, it’s okay. go inside,” and your sweet words were like a chant.

he’s slow-

carefully aligning his maroon tip between your syrupy slit, feeling it clumsily slip out every few thrusts.

you even reached between your legs with a single hand, spreading your pussy open right before his eyes. “don’t be… shy, she doesn’t bite, kento.”

“hhh.. woman- you’re gonna be the death of me,” nanami gulps, openly staring at the slippery heat stick between your legs.

he didn’t know which action had him feeling hotter. your filthy words, you, or the way you spread yourself open for him with just two, cute fingers.

two twinned digits pried your lower lips apart, and he grunts once the swollen head of his cock snugly pops its way past your gummy barrier.

“hngh,” nanami sucks his teeth, pressing his forehead against yours. his palm rests on your tummy before he gives you a tender glance. “is this . . alright?”

chewing on your lip, you moan out a, “y- yeah.” before touching the back of his hand.

nanami’s face softens before he eases himself further inside, squeezing past that cute ring of your entrance that’s just always oh-so tight!

nanami was as round as a teddy bear. a few years into your loving marriage you noticed how he started growing a soft bear-type body, especially with the winter rolling around.

not that you minded, he was the perfect subject for cuddling. in this case, though, he was perfect for gradually placing his weight on you—to which you always ended up loved.

with his dress shirt all wrinkled and unkempt thanks to you, nanami sheathed his face inside of your neck. “g- goddd, ‘s like when i’m inside i feel even hotter.”

the love curse ran through all nanami’s veins, including invading near his bloodstream and every jabbing axon that continued to pulse through his achingly, hot skin.

eventually through . . after a very long three minutes, his gravelly pants started to turn more and more raspy.

browned eyes of nanami’s turn tender at your gaze once you grab both sides of his face, rubbing circles around his hollow cheeks with the soft tips of your thumbs. “don’t hide, look at me.”

“heh- yes ma’am.” he gruffly whispers, tilting his cheek, leaning into your touch.

nanami was on top of you, glued to you entirely as if both bodies were made of pasty adhesive. with your ankle running down his back, it took everything within him to not moan.

every part — every single part of his body felt insanely sensitive to your touch.

nanami would occasionally bite his lip, finding his eyes rolling upward or even letting off a ‘phewww’ just from being a few inches inside of your intoxicating cunt.

as his cock’s driving its way inside at a slow pace, you watch nanami’s blond brows twist into a furrowing curve.

he’s sucking in every breath that tries to escape from him, groaning at each inch that sloppily disappears between your puffed folds. without even taking a glance—nanami could feel how wet you were, and not only were you preparing to milk him dry, but you were also drowning every girthy inch of his cock with all slick amounts of your pretty mess.

he didn’t have to look down because he could just feel – feel your compellingly, vulgar squelches, feel each slosh that sobs between your cunt folds, feel each pulsating throb that would convulse against your clit.

you’re just so damn pretty though..

staring back at him as he’s trying to make his way inside, nanami ends up getting lost in your gummy orifice that’s desperately clinging onto him as if its life depended on it. it’s almost cute..

“f- fuuck.” you’d whine, tugging at his ruffed-up cerulean collar. peering your eyes a bit, you see a bit of faded lipstick marks that were from you earlier this morning.

you smile to yourself, knowing nanami would always proudly show off those marks to any woman who dared look in his direction.

within a few inches deep, nanami’s creating an unforgettable gap that stretches your cunt fully open. he keeps his hooded eyes on you, pressing a few encouraging pecks near your plump, kiss-bitten lips.

he’s never felt so hot..

nanami snaps his hips into you once- just once, and he lets off the prettiest moan.

it sounds more like a whine—it pitches a bit higher than usual and he falls face flat into your chest.

you get sheepish, wrapping your arms around him before feeling him grunting between your breasts. “honey, i think i just . . came.”

“oh,” you breathe, and sure enough, you felt a lukewarm batch of cum starting to pool its way inside of you. your legs remained snaked around his waist and you could feel nanami’s ashamed pout stretch against your chest. you pat his head, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “it’s . . okay, ‘ken.” and he’s kissing all between the slope that runs down your soft tits—his comfort place.

you hum, lifting his head and watching him grumpily pout with loose blond strands running down his eyes. “i can always take the lead if you’re too sensitive.”

“please..”

♡ ♡ ♡

nanami looks up at you with a timid expression, his hands restrained at each side of the bed. gulping deeply, he watches as your slick-glossed cunt just barely floats over his creamy white tip. from the coral-colored sides, it’s a blushing pink…itching for you to be inside again.

just a single inch or the mere feeling of you swiping your entrance back ‘n forth against the peeling hood of cock makes him groan. “handcuffs, honey? this is quite…eh- kinky, no?” nanami raises an ash brow with a weary smile, soft, dusky eyes never leaving yours.

in fact—each time you run your hands down the open slit of his shirt that exposes his blond growing chest hair, he shudders.

just a few fingertips of yours alluringly ghosting down his skin was enough to make him melt. through semi-blurred peripherals, he spots a bright color that sticks against his wrists. “they’re . . pink,” he chuckles, “and fuzzy.”

“it came in the mail yesterday,” you coo at his observation, inching your face closer and starting to kiss down his neck. nanami inhales before sighing in rapture, positioning his head to the side so you could have a better angle and it’s unintentionally sexy. “it’s not too tight…is it?”

“it’s fine,” nanami shakes his head, preparing to take another deep breath once the opening of your pussy starts to sloppily split its way ajar.

you’re sinking on his shaft and he lets out a husky grumble—bulky muscles flexing through his biceps as his arms stretched across both sides of the leather headboard. “mmgh- atta girl. like that- like . . that.” and his voice seductively lowers an octave at every inch.

it was almost hypnotic at how much you were soaking him. truly, you were already soaked but now that your cunt was accepting his vast tip that was descending its way further inside of you, nanami wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last.

profusely, your pretty pussy was drowning him. nanami’s muscles continued to bulge through his shirt as he slouched back against the mattress, watching your hips starting to moderately pick up.

“s- sooo big.” you moan, the stretch wholly expanding through your walls. sometimes—you don’t think you’d ever get used to nanami’s size, let alone his thick, parting stretch.

clicking his tongue, nanami takes every second he can just to stare and openly admire your body.

effortless, you were just effortless with every moment you did.

every twirl, every toss and dip of your hips had him hungry for only more – more of you.

as your pace maintained its rocky rhythm, his eyes found themselves trailing further down, pausing between the crack of your pried-open legs.

seconds pass and they’re now leisurely making their way up your chest, pausing right between your plush rounded mounds.

you still had his business shirts as you rode him, and your tits freely sprung as your hips started to grind quicker. as your hips pathetically stuttered, so did the wooden legs of the bed. “hng- puttin’ me in handcuffs just so i can’t touch my hah- pretty wife, hm?”

nanami tries to joke, but you could already see him breaking a sweat once his cock explores deeper inside of your cunt – zigzagging a bumpy pattern all through your inside.

it’s making sure every part of you from the inside memorizes his hits, sloppy thrusts and all, and fuck- were you about to collapse right then and there.

the sides of nanami’s forehead were already heavily covered in perspiring sweat. with lush tears dribbling down every crevice and corner, nanami starts to huff.

“but baby, you always touch me,” you lively tease, tossing both arms over his tense, pent-up shoulders.

the bed lowly creaks every second, constantly dipping from all the constant movements and pounds that jolt against the rickety aged boxspring.

its constant croaky groans sounded almost painful—and the quicker your hips swerved around and bounced, the louder it cried in the background from both jerking bodies.

nanami pouts, shaking his head and you make him nod by cupping his chin. “yeah, you do.” you then surprise a part of his neck with wet, balmy kisses.

nanami gruffly grunts, desperately wishing his hands were roaming down every part of your body. tending to every part, allowing his fingers to explore every part.

he’d caress circles around your ass—guiding his callused, rough fingers up up up before they eventually reach near your waistline.

with a clingy grip, he’d start to rock your hips faster into him, making sure he pumps all nth inches deep inside until you’re babbling out incoherent cacophonies of his name and how you’re just so full..

but you noticed—nanami’s eyes were only focused on only one thing. your soft, perked breasts that bounced at the exact second your body did.

at each powerful hop and slam of your hips, they playfully jiggled, flopping against your chest. they were nearly smushed right in his face, and oh- he could feel his mouth shamefully watering at just imagining them being in his mouth.

“closer, sweetheart,” he grunts, tilting his head down since he couldn’t exactly use his hands.

you were riding him at such godly speed, swerving your hips at such frantic intervals while wetly clamping down on his cock.

nanami always filled you to the brim with all of him, poking right through your slickly dripping orifices with every bouncy thrust.

once more, it makes his head spin, but all he’s focused on is your chest that was staring straight back at him. “f- fuuuck, ‘m still h.. hot. i think- i think suckin’ on them will help me cool off, sweetheart.”

saucily cooing, you lick a stripe down his neck as your hips accelerated. as you continued to speak, your voice started to get a bit bumpy from the unsteady movement of your jouncing ass.

“oh- is that what you wanted all this time, ‘ken? to suck on these?” and he watches as you lean back, cupping your tits with the smuggest smile plastered on your lips.

your hands sneak down between your unbuttoned shirt before you silently mewl, giving them a nice good squeeze. “imagine jus’ how plumper they’d be after i have your baby, kento.”

“h.. honey- you’re lucky ‘m handcuffed.” bronze eyes trace down your skin, stopping at your perked nipples.

they were oh-so-perfect.. and as you’re straddled over his lap, nanami couldn’t help but let his mind wander just a bit. he couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander near the very lewd lobe of his brain.

the mental image of you baring his child . .

his wife, you.

nanami grunts at the thought, wordlessly gasping in multiple honed breaths at the fierce clashes of sharp skin.

your hips were disgustingly brutal, and with the way your thighs clung onto him, you were nearly akin to a magnet – forevermore sticking against nanami, never wanting to let go.

“c’mooon,” the blond playfully whines in a gruff voice, his cock stiffening inside of you. “don’t hah- make me beg, sweet girl.”

“you make me beg,” you chaff, slowing your hips down just a bit. nanami grunts at your catty truth, feeling the weight of you gradually hover before you roughly buck right into him.

using all of your core, his leaking tip smears its way against your clit in an almost pretty heart shape and you stutter out a moan.

your syllables of each broken moan were a bit choppy as you were shooting blanks, arching your back against him. even as you’re still riding him, putting all pounds of movement from your body into your sprawled knees, you kept touching yourself.

seeing you guide your hands all over your body in such a sensual way, made nanami kiss his teeth.

in envy though - those should’ve been his hands..

“allll. the. time.” you finish your sentence in a spirited whisper, whispering against the twitching left side of his ear.

each thrust becomes increasingly sloppy with your grip getting more slick ‘n wet — glossed which such sticky amounts of your tangled juices.

each squashing slop! that squelches from between the arc your legs get louder, causing your thighs to nearly clamp together from the tender stimulation.

cupping your tits again, you bring them up to nanami’s face. “go ‘head.”

“woman.. you’re evil,” nanami muffles, getting a face full of your breasts. you hold onto them tight, watching as nanami brings his face closer until he’s shoved right between them. a sweet crooning groan slithers from his lips as his tongue fervently curls its way down toward your nipple.

sloppily, you feel him casually swirling greedy circles around your pulsating gland before switching to the other one.

nanami’s lashes close as you’re still rocking your hips forward, nearly riding him into utter ‘n erotic oblivion..

at this point—you thought the bed was about to break, devastatingly snapping into two due to how good you were putting your hips to use.

“mmpf- so pretty. all mine, m- mine,” he rasps between wet slurps, his wrists still trapped in pretty pink handcuffs. the woolly fur tickles against his skin as his tongue continues to rove shapes around your nipples. “need to get these girls plump… quickly.”

your tits remained grasped in your hands as you’re moaning from nanami’s tongue, and you now start to rut into him at a much more hurried pace.

nanami hungrily drives his cock all through your core, creating a near race-track path that smothers invisible kisses all against your g-spot.

every inch, he’s fat- and his even lengthier girth nearly makes your brain short-circuit for a minute. every wild jam of your hips feels like its last, and nanami’s already drooling.

treacly, sweet saliva pours from the corners of his lips as he’s sucking on each of your tits, muffled gargled moans and whines vibrating against your tepid flesh..

your body had adapted to a more steady rhythm, but you could feel his dick eagerly twitch inside of you every few rushed seconds.

a bit of drool ends up running down his mouth, landing on his polka-dotted tie, creating a gray dampening spot. it’s cute, and you rub a thumb over his thin lips, watching his tawny, soft eyes flutter back open.

it’s the look of love- and nanami could feel himself heating up more once your gaze meets his again.

for a moment, he had completely forgotten about the dumb curse because he was too busy lost in your gaze.

but his temperature started to increase. you let off a bundle of whiny mewls once you feel him nip the top row of his teeth against your nipple.

“s- so cute,” he purrs lowly, feeling your knobbly thighs get closer and closer to giving out. just a few more thrusts and you’d probably be done for.

“mmp-” he pops out your left nipple with his swollen wet lips, glancing at you. nanami looked like he’d just run a marathon with blond strands glossing strips across his forehead. grunting, he starts to pant like a greyhound, sliding a tongue over his lips. “you’re close, honey?”

“m- mhm!” you’d reply, your voice turning raw at each straining moan that leaves from your poor chords.

his cock was massaging everywhere, it didn’t miss a single spot. it’s tip was widely turgid, angrily crimson-red, and leaking from all veiny sides while narrowly delving into you raw.

nanami’s kneading through your guts, tending to each gummy part of your entrance to make you whimper out his name. from every deep, vigorous pump that profoundly batters inside of your pussy, your eyes cross.

you’re dumbfounded—dumb in general too from the way he facilely located every sensitive spot with just the stubby tip of his shaft.

including your pretty cervix - nanami made sure his cock smacked its way there a few times.

the deep pressure pounding inside of you, greeting every single spot inside of your pussy never failed to make your knees quickly buckle.

“f- fuck, fuck there ‘ken, theretherethereee,” you start to babble, the bumps of his tip making your jaw goofily hang. “ ‘m cum- ‘m gonna cummm.”

“haah- together, sweetheart. can you . . finish with me?” nanami murmurs in a throaty voice, kissing your neck.

he tried to lift his head but got slightly pulled back from the fuzzy handcuffs.

he’s molding your insides fully with his cock, squinting a bit at the crescent-shaped moon that hides behind the violent bed curtain.

that view was nice but the view currently in front of him, riding him.. ‘curing’ him from whatever curse this was was far a better sight.

you.

with a whine preparing to squeal from your throat, you give him a nod.

nanami tilts his head, tsking impishly with his smacking lips despite how he was just as sensitive as you. “ah- you know how i feel about head nods, princess. i wanna hear those pretty words.”

“y.. yes ken, ‘kentoooo,” you moan, gasping once you feel two things at once. your stomach tightly seizing and your sloppy cunt restricting around his meaty, stocky length.

it’s so good, soso good that you softly bite into nanami’s shoulder. he hums, groaning right with you before you continue. “ ‘m cummin. ‘m fuckin’ cumming, kento.”

“i know.. i know, c’mere, girl,” he whispers, his face softening once your eyes immediately lock with him. “my sweet… girl.” his pitch lowers, and you decrease the distance between the two of you.

once again, your lips meet nanami’s but this time, it’s far more aggressive and less passionate.

it’s only one word and it’s – sloppy.

your body’s weakly rolling against him, losing its rhythm as the two of you end up finishing together, competing with each other’s inevitable high.

it all felt like a slow … rush.

as you were both drinking each other’s never-ending moans and grunts, the puddled, gooey mess began.

at the same time though, your legs ended up finally collapsing as your swollen, plump lips attacked against his - harshly.

nanami’s lips were almost competing with yours, mashing against your lips with the occasional rows teeth of teeth clash clash clashing away.

it’s loud, sloppy, messy..

the peppermint taste that still lingers in his mouth travels against your buds and you moan. nanami groans, spraying a geyser of bittersweet strips of hot cum inside of you as both tongues continue to explore each other’s mouths.

it’s a straight shot—it travels deep, introducing your womb with a fresh amount of cum as you end up letting go at the same time.

both sets of hearts fluttered as you pressed against his chest, racing frantic beats per minute as you melted the dozenth kiss he presented to your lips.

it’s hot- nanami’s rawly plunging into you as you whine against his lips, barely feeling your hips rutting into him anymore.

you’re just straddling him now – yet he’s still plugging you full with such massive inches of cock, with the addition of his creamy, gloopy seed that drizzles a sloppy white ring around his base.

your fingers wisp down his undercut, as he continues to quietly ravage your walls. it was a slick, slimy knot that buries itself deep inside of your pussy.

you’re moaning, slowly breaking away from his mouth that had strings of saliva clinging near the bottom of his glossed lip. panting heavily, you crane your head, taking a quick peek down at your ass.

it’s a mess, and as his carmine-colored tip slips out of you, it lightly smacks against his tummy.

ribbons of cum paint near the very undersides of your thighs, pouring out between your syrupy slit in such a slow yet filthy manner. time nearly stood still, and nanami went silent, staring at the gooey wads ‘n wads buttery cum that oozes out of your pretty, fluttering cunt.

“are you okay?” nanami sighs, feeling you reach for the handcuff key that rests near the rosy nightstand. you remove them, and he twirls his wrists in a circle before looking at you with kind eyes.

“ ‘m okay.” you reassure him, cupping his face and kissing the right side of his cheek.

nanami’s exhausted—especially after how good you just rode him.

your dripping cunt hovers against his happy trail and sheeny clenched abs as he lazily lies back, finally grabbing your hips. “good . . good,” and with a huff, he sheepishly smiles. “i guess i . . hah- failed no nut november, huh.”

“eh- there’s always next year,” you bring a chaste, sweet kiss to his quivering, pouty lips.

♡ ♡ ♡

surrounded by nothing but bodies of water featuring sods of glittery clear bubbles, you now found yourself lying against nanami’s broad chest. burly, swole arms envelope around your body as the two of you were in the ivory, spacious bathtub. as the water ran against your skin, soothing your aching muscles—you let off a sigh once he finished washing you off.

“i think it wore off,” his warm voice tickles against your skin. nanami kisses down your nape, reaching near the side of the tub where a bowl of fresh muscat grapes lies. tearing a few off the vine, he brings them toward your lips. “the curse . . pollen, whatever it was.”

“mmpf- did it?” you eat from his hand, feeling his wet palm softly rub against your chin. the smell of rich jasmine hits your nostrils as you let off a satisfied hum at the sugary sweet flavor. nanami’s body held you close, feeling your damp body lightly plop against his chest. you feel a bit of his chest hair land against your skin before you swallow. “do you still feel hot?”

nanami pops another grape into your mouth, then into his. “no, sweetheart. i’m fine now, thanks to you,” and you feel his left arm hook around your waist. the blond reclines back against the tub’s icy marble-made wall before sighing. “how do you feel, though? any cramps or body aches i should be aware of?”

with a content suspire drifting away from your parted lips, you move a bit in the calm, lukewarm water — closer toward the back of his chest.

“i’m okay, kento. althooough,” and you give him a playful nudge. “my legs still feel sore.”

“forgive me, honey,” nanami rests his chin against your shoulder. there was a bit of jest in his tone, and you could hear him trying not to snicker.

again, always the gentleman though.

“i’ll give you a massage once we get out of the tub, my treat.” and you let off a sigh, feeling him creep a few fingers up your thigh.

“hmm, okay,” you comply with a sight sigh, sneaking a kiss near the edge of his lips. nanami blinks thrice, his face flushing a bit before you cup his face with wet hands.

“i was serious you know. about . . what i said earlier. us settling down and–,” and nanami deeply stares into your eyes as you speak.

you rub a wet thumb against his sharp cheekbone before continuing, abruptly cutting your cute rambling short, ending with a sincere, “i love you, kento.”

tilting his head against your palm, leaning into your embrace, nanami brings you toward him before kissing the crown of your head. “and i love you more,” and as you felt butterflies party in the lower pits of your stomach, nanami brings your hand up to his lips.

gently, he aligns his mouth perfectly near your fourth digit before giving you another kiss, this time—on your ring finger. “mrs. nanami.”

but oh- he wasn’t done..

as you’re feeling a wave of tenderness overwhelm your heart, nanami leans a bit down before kissing the center part of your tummy that drips with teary droplets.

his wetly compressed lips give it a quick peck and ‘mwah’ before keeping his head lowered. “i love her too.” you raise a brow, glancing as nanami’s chin hovers over the bubbles of water.

“her?” you lift a brow as he whispers multiple ‘i love you’s’ against your stomach as if he was already talking to something – or someone..

“yes, her,” nanami repeats, giving your tummy one more kiss before sitting back up, rubbing his palm over the center of your belly.

looking up at you, he notices your confused expression and smiles to himself. “oh, just a little hunch,” and you gasp once nanami picks you up softy, carrying you out the wet tub, the both of you soaking wet.

“now, how about that massage? i’m quite good with my hands, especially when it comes to my woman.”

#★vegasbaby.#nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #female reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader

11K notes · View notes

tonycries · 3 months ago

Text

The Initiation - G.S.

Synopsis. From now onwards, you’re the madam of the Gojo clan - and your clan leader husband is going to prove it to everyone.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, EXHIBÍTIONÍSM, initiations, aphrodísiacs, wedding nights, oraI (fem + male), face-sítting, p talking, BRÉEDING, creampíes, matíng presses, first times (Gojo), use of “my wife” and “ma’am”, spítting, cúmplay, MARATHON S, overstím, Gojo is FÉRAL (and slightly ínsane), the elders are awful, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.0k

A/N. This was NOT supposed to be this long but yk what I’m not mad.

“I vow to love. I vow to heal. I vow to stand by my wife with a respect not deserved of even myself.” Every single elder at the shrine shivers when their clan leader’s blazing gaze narrows. Gojo Satoru. Death, himself, in his hauntingly beautiful form. “And I vow that everyone here - everyone - will know that.”

---

“A-an initiation?”

The sweet older women surrounding you don’t look even the tiniest ounce as confused as you feel right about now. They hum a low tune, bustling around you in a whirlwind of hands that tug and pull at your decadent robes.

“Ah, it’s just a long-held Gojo tradition, madam-” Madam - the word seemed so strange still. “-and the young master will make sure to take good care of you.”

“But-”

“Very good care.”

Maybe it was the way the fussing crowd around you burst into titters, maybe it was the way your silky yukata was left ever-so-slightly open - in a way you were sure the elders would cry scandal at. But, somehow, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something different to this clan initiation.

Something more.

And it’s something that plagues your mind over and over even by the time your make-up is finally perfected, and your reception robes brushed down for non-existent dust.

“Beautiful.” your attendants breathe, gracing you with a synchronized bow so low that it almost looked painful. And with a few more appreciative nods, they’re guiding you out of the sweetly-perfumed dressing room, wordlessly leading you into the uproarious traditional meeting hall.

“You’re not following?” you turn to ask, once you had almost one foot stepped cautiously into the room.

At this, the woman stood at the very middle of your entourage flushes. A bright, blinding red that matches the way her lips sputter helplessly, “I- I’m honored, madam. But this is er- as far as I can go.”

Strange.

And with that, the sliding mahogany doors shut.

Despite what you may think about the council of elders, you had to begrudgingly admit that they’d decorated the chamber lavishly. Fit for a king - or, more likely, fit for the new leaders of the household, after your marriage today.

Dimly-lit with lanterns, and already heady with the smell of expensive sake, your eyes dart around the seated upon seated of clan leaders, elders, and prominent officials you couldn’t even name. All positioned around a long table encircling a strangely raised platform in the middle - as if a stage - it seemed that everyone and anyone was here to assess the new Madam of the Gojo household.

To watch. To wait.

And at the head of it all - your husband.

Gojo Satoru was known by none to be a soft man, not even by those foolish enough to claim themselves close to him. More accurately fabled as the most vicious young clan leader in history; an angel of death that you’d be lucky to so much as even snatch a glimpse of before you never can once more.

Yet, the way he beams once his summer blue eyes lock on yours made him seem like anything but.

“Ah- my wife. My wife is here.” Gojo’s deep baritone sounded so reverent - out-of-breath, like he’d been whispering those very words to himself like a mantra all night. In the middle of it all, you hadn’t even noticed the way the hall had quieted deafeningly - not until his words echo throughout your ears. Rich blue yukata rippling when he’s patting softly at his chair, and you notice with a jolt that there’s no seat next to him.

Damn elders.

“Hah? Elder Tanaka really did it!”

“You know I never wanted the riffraff to sit at the table- not a place for-”

“Well what else? A madam should be as a madam is.”

You’re gritting your teeth, making determined strides past all the withering stares and hushed whispers. Stepping closer and closer up to your shifting husband-

“Take-”

And then you sit.

Plopping yourself down unceremoniously onto the clan leader’s lap - from behind you, you’re hearing Gojo suck in a feverish breath. Panting. You’re washed over with his piney, syrupy sweet scent when his strong forearms immediately wrap around your waist to steady yourself comfortably onto his large, manspread lap.

And in front of you, you stare defiantly back into every wizened snarl shot your way. If looks could kill, then this would be a massacre.

It takes him a few gulps to regain his senses - hell, it takes you a few more. And Gojo was so warm, practically burning when he whispers in a rasping voice against your ear, “I was going to tell you to take my seat but…whatever my wife wants, hm?”

“The look on their faces,” you try to hold back what would be deemed an utterly unlady-like smirk. Back pressing up against every hardened curve and ridge down Gojo’s washboard abs through his clothes. “But, I-I’m sorry if-”

His arms around you tighten. “Why would you ever be sorry?”

CLAP! CLAP!

“The reception shall now commence.”

Perhaps it was to stop your quiet muttering, but soon enough your vision is promptly being filled with delicacies that make your mouth water.

“I would advise you not to drink the sake, pretty.” Gojo waves off an attendant that offers another chair, starting to sift around the steaming contents of his own plate. And despite how you seemed to be the main scrutiny tonight, you let him feed you tiny bites, anyway - all for the haughty council to scoff at. Their master being so happily used by his wife “Seems we’ve been gifted with something special to drink for the initiation tonight.”

Something about his tone was strained. It makes you bat your lashes up at him in a way that has Gojo adjusting his lower robes with a gulp. “Something special? Is it poisoned?”

He chuckles out, “No- even worse-” Lowering. And you jolt when his gleamingly sharp canines sink into your earlobe. Dangerous. “-one sip of that for both of us and I’ll be showing this scum here exactly how you’re mine.”

Oh.

Shit, your spine sits ramrod straight at that purring little undercurrent in his tone - the implications. And just that slight jostle of your hips makes Gojo urgently dig one set of his slender fingers into your waist. It makes him hunch over, it makes him gasp, “O-or we might not even need that sake, heh-”

Eyes drifting to the platform, “I want to, though.”

And for just a second, the entire meeting hall stills.

Every figure around the table barely even bothering to hide their blatant staring right now, some covering their gaping mouths - because the infamous leader of the Gojo clan was smiling.

Smiling. A humorless, crazed little smile directed at you. “Then…” Barely drifting an inch even when his own free digits clasp around a tiny sake bowl, he cheers his sake cup with yours. Echoing over the twinkling clink! “-whatever my wife wants.”

And yet, you feel nothing out of the ordinary in the first few minutes - nothing but those billowing stares and Gojo’s warm proximity to you. Huffing out tiny bouts of laughter that tickle the crook of your neck, and your face burns at the stray peck or two he’s leaving down your exposed skin.

Not even in the first hour.

Or the second, and you’re half-wondering whether this initiation was nothing but a hoax.

But veering into the third-

It happens.

Something snaps.

“S-Satoru?” you breathe out unsteadily when he’s suddenly growing quiet. Head craning to take in just how pretty Gojo looked right about now - robes hanging off his sculpted deltoids. A sweet strawberry blush taking over his high cheekbones, his collarbones, down further. “Are you okay?”

Of course, he wasn’t. Right now, Gojo Satoru felt so ruined he thinks he could faint.

“Shit-” Gojo hisses from above you, snowy brows knitting together. You can’t even react before his muscular thighs bounce ever-so-slightly, shifting you just a degree higher on his lap. Just enough for him to seat you prettily by the edge of something big. Curved. Rock-hard. “Shit- shit shit- m’- m’feeling so-”

Gojo’s chopsticks clatter onto the tatami mats with a soft thud! And those fingers find themselves latching onto you.

You, you, you - burning down the curves of your waist, sliding up your trembly thighs and just below where your robes were hiking up. He couldn’t get enough.

“Sa-toru-” your words come out wobbly. Clutching at the slight opening of your yukata to drag in a useless attempt to drink in some cooler air. You felt like you were melting, and so were your words now. “Toru, I feel so-”

“What did you say?”

It takes you a few syrupy moments to even realize that it’s your husband speaking - because Gojo’s voice was several octaves higher than usual. Husky, like he was on the verge of shattering into a million pieces. Spitting a pained, “What did you say, honey?”

You bat your teary lashes - shit, when did you even get so stimulated - up at the thoroughly drunken elders that were sneaking peeks at the two of you.

Just for a split-second - barely enough to catch anything.

But enough for Gojo to curl the thick pads of his fingers around your throat, pulling in a roughened tug to have your back hugged even more flush against him. “Hey hey hey- look at me, pretty. Look at your husband.” Flexing his powerful back muscles in a drool-worthy way, bowing over in two to practically shove you into the cool surface of the table when he puffs up against your ear. “S-say that again?”

You’re pinned on top of the mahogany with his full body weight - and you can barely breath, barely even think before uttering out. “T-Toru?”

And that makes Gojo Satoru shiver.

Entire body wracking so violently, his nose buries into the tender column of your neck. Not just breathing you in - basking in you.

Muffling out, “Again.”

“Toru.”

“Again.”

“Toru–”

It makes the strongest snap his glassy, cerulean eyes almost-comically open in a flash - winking his droopy gaze through molasses once, twice at the platform right in front of him.

And Gojo’s barely even in control of his limbs when the mountains of his palms glide hurriedly underneath your thighs. In only a split-second, you’re carried in his arms in the easiest princess carry - but Gojo doesn’t stop there.

No, he doesn’t simply walk out of the room like you’d expected him to - he does the complete opposite.

Every widened eye in the room can only watch as the clan leader steps swiftly upon the now cleared-out table and onto the raised platform in only two treads. Splaying you out gently onto the firm tatami, you’re gazing up at a heaving Gojo.

Because despite the rich dinner tonight, Gojo was starving.

The soft yolky glow of the lanterns overhead illuminates that greedy glint in his eyes - the way that his lips glisten with the slightest trail of translucent drool at the very ends of his parted, rosy pink lips.

He’s never looked more ruined.

“Please.”

And it’s all but whimpered out into your mouth - pathetic and raw.

You’re gasping sharp heavals of air when his candied lips attack yours, and through that delicious thumping between your legs that you could feel in even your ears - you hear the gasps. With a sweet, sweet whine you’re blinking your eyes open enough, “Th-they’re watching.”

“Oh.” But Gojo’s more worried about losing contact with the heaven that was your lips, chasing after to press wet peck after French peck. “S’what? You wan’ me to kill them all?”

The room drops a few chilling degrees in temperature for everyone but the two of you.

He could - he would. If you hadn’t shaken your pretty head frantically, that is, not quite ready for a bloodbath on your wedding night. Yet, you needed him so bad.

“Then- m’only gonna show them who ya belong to- who I belong to.” Calloused, rounded tips of his fingers bearing down your yukata, Gojo’s slipping in one of his cold digits between your robe to snap! snickering at your low keen. “And you’ve made it so oh- easy f’me to.”

He was so greedy.

Stealing little spying looks down at the way your legs were splayed out, Gojo utters out a guttural, “Open- open up f’me, my wife. Show them how wet your husband’s made ya.”

And shit, you didn’t know whether it was that sake acting out on behalf of your limbs, or whether it was the way that you were so needy right now. But you could feel your thighs jittering open as soon as those humming syllables were out of Gojo’s mouth.

“S-so embarrassing-” you whine, one hand swiping away your thin layers to show him that glistening wet plump of your pussy. Drenched. Seeping through the useless fabric of your panties to wink up at him- and oh, that makes Gojo groan.

It makes him throw his head back with a hiss - for only a split-second, as if he couldn’t take it. Before drunkenly shifting back to your pretty cunt no matter what.

“Oh, shit.”

THUD!

The body of the one such rowdy clan heir that’d dared speak up right now hits the ground faster than your eyes hit their target.

Fuck, you didn’t even see Gojo pull out one of his famed daggers from beneath his sleeves - but the thought of what more might hide underneath made your thighs clench.

And Gojo notices - of course, he did. Why the fuck wouldn’t he?

“F-fuck. What a naughty pussy gettin’ drenched from just that.” he shrills - before bursting out in a bout of laughter. Laughter, humorless and feral. “Gonna be the death of me- f-fuck- you’re gonna-” For a second, you feel your skin burn in embarrassment, and your legs cross. Only for his eyes to glow a burning blue in disagreement, tutting out a low, “Tell me- hah- tell me what you want.” He’s burning up with every slow kiss down the edge of your mouth, thumbing open your glossy maw further to wrap his lips around your tongue and suck. “Anything- I’ll get ya anything.”

You’re pretty sure that everyone is gaping at the worshiped leader of the Gojo clan on his knees and begging.

But you didn’t care - not when his solid index was drawing a slow line down the middle of your sopping slit. Bucking your hip up into an arch off the platform that makes Gojo’s achy cock twitch, and the aphrodisiac rush back to him with full force. Mewling, “Wan’ y-you, Toru-”

Eyes twinkling, “Me what, honey? The madam’s gonna hafta use m-more hah- big girl words than that.”

You want him.

You need him now.

“So mean.” you’re huffing and puffing, yet Gojo only grins at the way he can feel your sloppily wet lips down there kiss him even wetter. Dribbling a soaking sheen down to his wrist, “Want you t-to touch me- p-”

You don’t get to say that magical word “please” because Gojo Satoru would never have you say it.

He’s plunging out his long digits to hold up to the attractively dim lighting - yet, they’re already dazzling with the slick coating from your pre-soaked cunt. And he’s looking at a few elders right in their downturned bows as Gojo sticks his long, tender tongue out and licks. “W-whatever the madam wants. Dontcha think, elder Tanaka?”

You were the madam, and you’d be treated as such.

And shit, what that old man’s response was - whether he even responded - Gojo doesn’t give a shit.

Because just one ounce of your sweet, sweet juices on Gojo’s tongue shoots his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Hips bucking up with a low moan, a few slurring swears falling from his lips when he feels his achy cock gush-

“Need you-” he’s gasping wetly, shuffling urgently down the expanse of the platform. Moves frantic - needy. Down, down, down until you feel his hot pants down at your cunt. “Need to- wanna- gimme a lil’ peck, m’kay?”

The syrupy ends of his sentence are slurped up down a long glide of the very edges of Gojo’s tastebuds down your swollen folds. Through your panties.

Barely even shifting them even an inch to the side when he lets your glissading juices down his tongue, drawing a sultry circle. He’s letting his eyes droop half-closed, murmuring a little growl at the very back of his throat. “Just one more-” Gojo’s voice cracks, two sets of nails pressing crescents down into your thighs with just how hard he pulls. Kisses. “-and me more-” And another. “J-jus’ one more- oh-” Another.

And you’re barely even realizing it before Gojo’s latching his pretty lips with yours, squelching wet noises ringing in your ears and throughout all four corners of the room.

“Th-tha’s” you manage to scoff, fingers threading into his cloudy locks and pulling. But not even that’s enough to get Gojo to part even a millimeter, in-fact he’s pushing himself even more nose-deep, rolling his tongue down your slit - like he’s trying to push through your panties. “-more than one.”

And fuck - he titters out a pussydrunk giggle down into the edges of your sloppy hole. Teasing tongue dipping just barely to circle around the very edge and then-

“Can you blame me?” Gojo smiles with his rubbed-raw lips. So fucked-out that you hear yourself gasp. Your slick was already drip! drip! dripping down his curved chin, smearing a wet gloss that sits all prettily on his features. “M’gettin’ practice to do this fer the rest of our lives.”

And everyone could see just how addicted the clan leader was.

Everyone.

Slack-jawed and moving like he was mindlessly drawn to your pretty cunt, you’re being faced with a wet drawl of his lips down your sodden folds. Pressing the pointed tip of his nose against your plump clit he’s breathing you in all filthily.

“Could get used ta th-this-” he spits. Once. And then literally, salivating down a wet glob right inside your snug cunt that makes you shiver. “-heh, fuck that- s’too heavenly to. I need-”

And then you’re flipped.

So fast - so sudden that you barely even register what’s happening before you’ve got Gojo Satoru smushed onto the tatami platform. Bleary eyes gazing up at you and fixating right onto your pretty face, your hips sat shamelessly on his face.

“Toru what-”

“T-take those- off f’me, honey- please-” He couldn’t even bear to specify right now. You looked so unfairly pretty on top of him like that, even prettier when your soft, luxury robes are hitting the floor. Well, everything except those panties-

“Toru, those are gonna rip-” you yelp when you feel the stinging clench of his teeth biting down the plush of your thighs. Resting onto the sopping wet fabric of your underwear, it smears down a wet glide at his cheek. “-they’re so expensive.”

RIP!

Gojo spits back the tatters of your flimsy excuse of panties beside him - and then another saturated wad of saliva up into your cunt. “Have ya forgot that you’re the ah- madam now?” He’s snickering, curved fingertips swatting a wet smack! onto your ass, cold wedding band branding. “-jus’ use my black card ta buy the whole fuckin’ store. Dip into the hah- council’s funds fer all I care.”

And for those shocked elders snapping their eyes up - they’re met with the most obscene sight of Gojo’s gleaming tongue spreading your puffy pussy lips wide and proudly open.

“Shit-” he’s bursting out in whiny keens. Spitting and sloshing the wet waves of every pearlescent slick that beads of you - and there’s so much of it. “Gonna get my face s-so soaked heh-” So much that Gojo was utterly ready to feed with his sliding tongue, swirling past your wet rim of muscle and fucking up into you languidly. “-didn’t even need a fuck- ch-chair, anyway.”

Your cunt sloshes all around his tongue, dragging up and down up and down up and- Thoroughly done teasing out your hole pliant, he’s dragging his lips up to suck around your peaked clit - before pinching it in a light bite.

“Oh!” you yelp. Searing a grip into his scalp, “S-so mean-”

“Mhm— m’your big, bad mean husband- fuck-” Such syrupy, desperate whines that Gojo really can’t help but babble - over and over. “-that sake…feels like m’burning- m’dying-” He can’t stop, won’t stop, roughly attaching a hand onto the globes of your ass to help you ride. “-n’ m’fuckin’ addicted- so won’t ya toy with this hah- p-pretty pussy a lil’ n’ get even wetter for me? Please?”

God, it’s so subconscious the way that your fingers toy over your clit - tight, pressurized circles just the way you like it.

“Like this?”

“Ohhh, yeah, wifey- let it all down m’tongue-” And Gojo’s in a hypnotic trance at how much more of your honeyed glosses of precum that soak and travel down his tongue. It works. Even more. More and more. Maddeningly.

Until he just can’t fucking take it-

“S-stop that f’me. None of that t-touchin’ anymore oh-” he gruffs out, throat dry. “Let me-” Fucking jealous of you that he’s pushing his fucking sanity to gritting through his teeth. Gojo meanly slaps away your hand before taking it over with his own. Absolutely no warning before feeding your drooling pussy with inch after inch of his fingers.

Two at a time.

Three.

Your gooey depths are clinging to him so tight, taking him like a fuckin’ champ when they’re curling at the very knuckles to press deeply. “Oh yeah- makes me w-wonder jus’ how nicely you’ll take my fuckin’ cock, too, hm?”

You’re barely able to even babble out a few incoherent moans before the very tips of his digits brush up against the bulging bullseye of your g-spot. Hard.

“There-” you gasp. You all but cry. “R-right there, Toru-”

Swat!

“I love you, honey- oh, I love you- but right now…” Gojo’s petering his voice away, too in a heady trance with the sight of that rapidly thumping pulse at your cunt to focus on stringing any sentences together right now. And he’s licking back into your snugly-filled entrance, squeezing past the jostlie of his thickened digits to doubly penetrate you. “...jus’ wanna hear this c-cute cunt speak.”

It’s like Gojo couldn’t decide where he wanted to be next - licking up every wet dredge of your juices smearing down his wrist, hollowing his cheeks out when he sucks on your neglected clit, or drawing out the prettiest moans when he joins back in to fuck your quivering hole ragged.

Every movement bruising - claiming.

They’re cold inside your toasty walls. Reaching mushy nooks and crannies inside you that you didn’t even know were possible, rolling his tongue into your tight channel to drape your gummy walls with a sheen of his spit. His six-inch fingers pressing harsh against your sweet spots, you could scream-

“Oh she’s real talkative- s-so cute-” But your swashing cunt was doing all the talking for you, wringing out drippingly wet slurps and squelches that Gojo nods along drunkenly to. Maybe it was the aphrodisiac, maybe it was the way he was squeezed oh-so-tightly between your thighs - a lightheaded way to go that Gojo definitely wouldn’t mind. Because he was agreeing. “Mhm- I agree- hah- oh, I agree with ya, cutie-” Thick, white lashes bat innocently up at you, “-my wife would look s-so pretty when she cums, hm?”

And he’s right.

Drunken.

Because when you do, the sight is so pretty that Gojo himself thinks that he could cum right there and right now in his boxers - the only thing holding him back being the stabbing need to cum inside you more than anything.

Your thighs are desperately attempting to close around his ravenous head, greedily slurping up every bit of your juices. Every bead, every splatter, every slow gush with your mess of an orgasm.

“D-didn’t even ngh- see it-” you whimper, wave after wave of white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes and making your spine arch in such a slutty way. “-didn’t even think I’d- oh-”

“S’quite alright-” he’s murmuring wetly. Head lolling all the way back to let you fuck your high on Gojo’s pretty face, convulsing cunt slobbering a translucent pathway all down the middle of his face. “Heheh- could never get mad- c-could never- oh fuck- use me.”

You’re gasping over distantly shocked mutters, “W-what?”

“Use me-” Gojo’s crying out, hips rutting up into the air like an animal. And he’s dangling helplessly onto the curve of your hips, jostling you desperately to fasten your vice-like grip on his hair. To ride him faster. To use him. “M’begging, my wife- fuck- let em’ see- let these fuckers see the way you u-use me.”

Voice breaking pathetically, eyes fighting not to scrunch shut, gasping and gulping for you to grind your dribbling pussy in smooth, sultry gyrations down rougher across his mouth.

And when you do, Gojo thinks he could faint.

He’s letting out a rasping ah! ah! ah! curdle at the very back of his throat with every jolt of your hips, with every push of your cunt down his mouth that has him gasping for air. Every drawn circle making his fat head swell even girthier. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

It’s everything he could ever think about even when your high evolves into mere tingles, when the twitches of your legs slow down, and you find yourself lifting ever-so-slightly off of Gojo’s red, red flushed face.

He looks so wrecked underneath - happily, so.

Flashing a brilliant smile that was dripping with all the coatings of your sloshing wet slick towards that little audience that you’d even forgotten you had. “Heh, next time my madam wants a hah- s-seat, she’ll have one. One way or the other.”

“T-Toru–” you’re whining, clamoring off to seat yourself down on his painfully hard lap. “-think they got the ngh- point.”

But, oh, the very moment your glossed pussy lips were meeting the thick bump of Gojo’s angry head through his clothes, you feel the syrupy rush of the aphrodisiac boil through your veins once more. You couldn’t even imagine how Gojo felt right now without even cumming once.

Slotting over to resound a damp schwf! of skin on fabric. Barely giving you a moment to even recollect before you need him. You want to ruin him.

Purring lowly, “Toru…”

And the strongest gulps - Gojo Satoru gulps - a shiver thrumming down his hulking body and onto his gushing cock. It twitches up in a sodden little perk underneath you, and Gojo’s fingers attach themselves to your waist. “Y-yes, ma’am?”

“Really wanna taste you-” your lips drag across his and he keens with a slow suck on your bottom lip. “-wanna see if the r-rest of you is just as sweet?”

“Fuck!” You bounce up precariously when Gojo bucks up wildly, like he’d rip through his wedding robes and fuck you right now if he could. “Such filth from such a s-sweet mouth- ya really are gonna be the fuckin’ death of me.”

And to hear the most notorious clan leader admit shamelessly like this. To hastily untie his yukata and let it fall to the side, hear him break out in a sullen whimper when you kiss your way down his toned body, down, down, down his bulging pecs, his heaving abs, all the way to those soaked tufts of white at his pelvis-

“D-don’t tease-”

Gojo just gasps at the hit of cool air when you’re shuffling down his stickily wet boxers in a fluid, sudden pull. Head throwing back before meeting your own widened ones - he was so big.

You don’t think you’d ever get used to the sight, to the way that his swelling hot girth expands up a few sizes fatter at the hot puff of your feverish breath. Thumping veins prominent and blushing strawberry pink in flavor. Reddened and bulbous tip already slick with a gleam of precum, and one swipe with your thumb makes him gush out in a stringy gush of more and more-

“Shit-”

Gojo’s letting his pathetically drooling lips sag open, eyes widening when your deft digits circle around that creamy white ring down Gojo’s length - down his underwear.

He didn’t even realize.

Curling his fingers around his thick base to glide over your lips like he was painting it in a pretty white lipstain. Letting your open lips drool and make a syrupy mess with his excess ribbons of cum. “Fuck- look what you do to me-”

You’re gasping with the realization that Gojo Satoru had cum in his pants from just eating your pretty pussy out - and it makes you grin.

Pressing a sweet, sweet peck onto one remnant of his thick dredges of his slightly salty seed, it makes him rut at each of your kittenish peck after peck on his weepy head. Circular and hot. “Ya are sweet.”

And then you can’t speak anymore - because Gojo didn’t want you to speak anymore. Doesn’t think he could manage it without his hefty balls clenching dangerously once more - it was his first time, after all.

“Handle- ah, handle me delicately, m’kay? Never done this b-before-” Biting down on his swollen lower lip when he’s watching your mouth stretch. Bulging out through your cheeks with the solid inches he was feeding you - throbbing length disappearing into your plushy mouth.

Gojo’s so ridiculously big when the rotund ends of his cock kiss wetly against the very back of your throat. Branding a bittersweet bruise. You were sure that had it not been for just how needy you were with the sake, it would have been physically impossible to milk the entirety of his fucking soul out of him like the way you were right now.

“O-oh-” he gasps - he pants. Chest caving it at how swelteringly hot you were inside, hugging around his sensitive cock so hard that Gojo sees stars. “Is- is this what it feels like?”

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru’s voice shiver just this way, you’ve never seen him so broken. Bouncing off the elders that see their precious leader this defiled.

Thighs juddering up and flexing in a way that makes you salivate to lock around your neck. He’s practically headlocking you - whimpering out tiny pleas as if you could answer. “Can’t believe you’ve been holding out- can’t ah- A lil’ deeper- please? Please I know you can-” Shifting his hips up in a slow gyration of back and forths until your tongue was flattening to slide over every vein down his underside. Twirling over particularly sensitive spots at the jagged crevices that make Gojo whine. “-aww, tha’s right. My good girl- my good fuckin’ wife.”

He’s never felt like this before.

And when you hollow out your cheeks and suck - oh, it has him hunching over rapidly. Shoving your nose up against that neat white happy trail, you’re breathing in his addictively masculine musk.

Moaning out a throaty, “Mmpf-”

“Shhh shh sh-” Gojo massages his finger down your neck, sneaking greedy feels for the outline of his thick cock down your throat. “Jus’ take it- fuck fuck fuck- don’ hafta do anything else, lemme take care of it, pretty.”

He didn’t even know what - he didn’t know how.

But fuck-

You swirl your tongue over and underneath the sensitive bump of his slit, lathering it in a slow glissade of your salivating tongue that makes him jump. And he feels like he’s already seeing cloud nine and the pearly gates itself by the time you steady yourself into sultry, sucking bobs.

Dancing a hand up to rub over his tight, cum-filled balls - and maybe it was the aphrodisiac, maybe it was just him - but it felt like he was about to burst already.

He was going to.

A slight hiss - not from you, not from him - manages to emanate its way into his melty mind, and Gojo’s finding it in himself to let his head throw back with a sudden laugh. Glassy eyes barely even focusing on the jaw-dropped figures around the table, “Y-your madam’s hgnh- taking me so well, isn’t she?” Head tilting drunkenly back at you, “Wontcha say she’s doin’ a damn good job-”

Only a few mutters - a few scoffs.

And Gojo’s finding his digits twirling tightly to latch onto your scalp, hissing through clenched teeth. “Say it.”

A unanimous, humiliating “yes” echoes from all sides of the platform.

And one from your wrecked husband right in front of you - “Yes- hahah-” he giggles. Brushing over the splattered mix of precum and cum that drips down the side of your thoroughly open mouth when you suck all his fat inches. Popping it into his mouth to taste. “-doin’ so well f’me I think- hngh- think I might-”

Of course, at this, you’re speeding up your greedy bounces. Fucking Gojo so heavenly with his mouth that he thinks he’s memorized every curve and twist of your tongue, every single tastebud-

“Naughty girl-” You’re being gifted with another smack! on your ass, and he’s having to haul you off of his reddened, angry cock with a tightened grip around your throat. With one, two slow pumps right in front of your face. And then up, up, up enough for him to hum into your mouth in an attacking French kiss. “-I like that.”

Gojo’s bulging biceps ripple when he seats you all prettily on his lap - just like earlier on tonight. Except, this time, you were facing him - and feeding your drooling cunt all angry inch by inch of his rock-hard cock.

“O-open up those hngh- pretty legs.” he murmurs in a heaving hot breath into your ear. Eyes blaring down at the way your squirmy legs were adjusting and readjusting around slender hips. “Open ‘em and t-take me-”

The way you do makes him gape, makes him gasp, makes him impatiently wrap two arms around the small of your back to fuck up past that tight little ring of resistence and into your walls depravedly.

Just hitting the very back of your spongy cervix with the upwards curved tip of his head before gushing out thick, wet splatters of cum. The gripping cling of your cunt too good, the way you were sucking him up still fresh.

And perhaps because of the aphrodisiac, but he was cumming so much.

Such voluminous loads of seed that dump out into your gooey insides, it sloshes all around him and makes such squelches that reaches his ears. Drooling through the very edges of your sopping wet slit-

“S-see what happens?” Gojo’s whimpering in a way that a clan leader decidedly was not known for. Being the strongest, too. Driving a thumb along your bulging slit, he’s taking the opportunity to smear your pussy lips even wider to swallow more of him. To plug his cum back in. To show off. “See how ah- see what you do to me? Let everyone see-”

And Gojo sounded so desperate, gasping out little utterances and praises into your mouth while he’s shoveling his swollen cock upwards into you. Taking the lewd advantages of years of combat to pummel every recoiling wall of yours with punishing, pressurized thrusts.

“Wh-what do I do to ya, Toru?” you hum curiously, half-delirious.

“Drive me fuck- insane, tha’s what-” he’s hissing, sparks behind his eyes. Swiping down to where he could feel the drilling nudge of his weepy cock, pressing down- hard. He’s mushing over the sensitive slit of his cock accidentally, “Oh- makes me wanna do this forever-” He’s nosing down the crook of your neck now, hiding away that innocent blush of his. “-to fuck you, make love to you, to breed you.”

You sputter out a sudden clench that has Gojo falling back down onto his elbows. Back hitting the tatami mats, your hands hitting his cushiony pecs. “Y-you wan’ to breed me? Hngh- you w-want an heir, Toru?”

An heir - an heir.

An heir, an heir, an heir. God, it’s thundering throughout his mind and syrupy slowly turning into just about all he can think about.

“M-me? Want an heir?” He’s shuddering out, massive palms splaying out on the two globes of your ass to stretch your taut pussy further down his cock. “What makes you think- oh- what-” Until your perky lips were kissing his heated pelvis, your pulsing clit scratching deliciously down his tufts of white. And at this very second, peering up at you through hooded eyes, gaze half-curtained with his hair, drunken - all that Gojo can imagine is how pretty you are. And how much prettier you’d be as a mama. “C-can I get you hngh- p-pregnant- please, ma’am?”

Mere seconds of his thrumming shaft stretching you open pass as he looks dazedly to the side, “After all- s’what th-this initiation is for, right?”

And then you feel like you’re being spearheaded all the way to your lungs with all of Gojo’s girth.

“Toru-” you whine, nails dragging little red lines down his broad neck and all over his shoulders. “-deeper. More please- it feels so-”

“More?” Gojo chuckles, hysterical. “You want m-more?”

He’s barely even answering his own question - let alone allowing you to answer.

Because Gojo’s taking this as the cue to restrain your two wrists behind your back with one of his own, forcing you to whine and shudder out little sobs when your thighs strain to meet his jackhammering cadence.

Ass stinging at the bruising slap! of his sharp hip bones, the way his heated cunt was swirling around your sweet spots so right. It felt like you were burning from the inside out-

“Ah ah-” Gojo tuts, snapping you out of your woozy reverie. Free hand coming to knock away one of your trembly palms snaking down to your neglected clit - when did you even start that? “Can’t ask me for m-more n’ do this. Move that hand so I can f-fuck you proper, honey-”

You barely even have the time to whine about it before he’s spitting a streaming waterfall of saliva onto his fingers, pinching at your clit.

“Heh, don’t think I f-forgot about ya-” You whine at the way he was drawing dizzying circles, the cool burn of his matching wedding band. “Th-they say ya needa have the hngh- mother cum, too, ta make kids.”

Plural.

“K-kids?” you muse.

“Mhm-” he’s nodding like he doesn’t even realize. “How about- six-”

Maybe from the shock, maybe from the way that he was filthily spearing against your g-spot so good, you collapse readily onto your elbows. Feeling every slick and slide of Gojo’s abs rubbing up against you.

Each singular thrash into your cervix has Gojo’s babbles running more nonsensical - more pussydrunk. “Thinkin’ wh-whatever ya want- hngh- to fill ya up- Have you all r-round and ha- glowing.” Like it pained for him to even say, like it hurt with every sloppily wet thwack! of his heavy balls on your ass. “Have you be m-my madam- the mother of my kids- hngh- all with your pretty eyes-” he’s sobbing now. Swirling around his rounded tip till it hits sweets spots you didn’t even know you had. “-n’ my hair and hah- your personality- c-can’t imagine fighting over them for ya- wh-what do you think, cutie?”

But as soon as you’re cracking your mouth open to fervently agree - at least, as much as your hazy mind could at this point, Gojo’s raising his right hand to palm over it.

With a drunken smirk, “M’askin’ her, my wife- dontcha w-worry-” Nuzzling your cheek, “-haven’t forgotten about the mother of my kids.”

And the saccharine-sweet sloshing is enough to ring throughout Gojo’s ears like his favorite melody - and he’s memorized every note. Pumping out more and more spurts of hot precum to stain your insides and dribble uproariously. Sleazing a grin your way, “Almost there- almost- but first-”

Every single elder he’s glaring upon jumps when Gojo graces them with one of his looks - even as barely-lucid and fucked-out as he was. He leers, “How about it? Heh, wanted a-an heir so bad n’ now you’re gonna get it. Happy now?”

As expected, no answer.

But Gojo didn’t need one anyway - not when your ringing slurps as you swallow up his cock thunder across his ears. “O-oh, she’s tellin’ me something-”

“Wh-what is she sayin’, Toru-” you whine, lips wobbling uncontrollably in much the same way that your pussy folds were right now.

“She’s sayin—” Gojo’s voice takes on a whimpering lilt, and he has absolutely no idea how you haven’t noticed that determined clenching of your gummy walls, the breathless pants of yours. So he only smiles, teeth sinking playfully into your ear lobe, “-that my gorgeous wife’s about to cum.”

Stars flurrying behind your lids, your toes curl and hips slam with enough force to rock the platform rickety.

But if you didn’t notice your high - then Gojo certainly didn’t notice his, either.

Too caught-up, too busy rutting up in solid strides into your dripping cunt to notice that he was splattering your squeezing walls to be sopping wet with oozes of cum. There are so many gushes of it that Gojo feels dizzy, he feels like he’s about to break.

“Wait- wait wait m’cumming again-” he gasps. Pinching your clit with two fingers to feel the way that jittery convulsion has Gojo’s potent seed coating his cock a glistening white. Something marshmallow creamy that makes him swallow. “D-didn’t even know I could hngh- c-cum again-”

Didn’t know if he even wanted to but- but of course, he did.

He’s hissing at the dredges of wispy white that drip from between your slit, the very sight itself tipping Gojo over to sprinkle out a few more velvety ribbons that knock at your womb.

“Heheh- think this t-took?” Those mere words feel so sinful on his tongue, and Gojo’s ears flush a ruby red. But he can’t find himself stopping when he plugs out of your snug cunt, whimpering at the sensitive cling of your cunt as if she didn’t want to part ways. “Whoops-”

You whine at the warmly wet gush of your still-convulsing cunt, “Don’t think it t-took if you’re pulling out-”

SLAM!

You don’t know who’s actually gasping - the elders, Gojo, or you. Still reeling from the way you’re immediately flipped over onto all fours, cheeks smushed against the tatami mat so hard that Gojo wonders whether it’ll leave a mark for tomorrow.

Assuming the two of you get out of this alive, that is.

“Let them see-” he’s hissing, cupping your pussy to leave a few wet smacks that smear your abundance of his cum down onto the platform. So much of it. “-let them see how th-their heir is made since they wanna hah- see so badly.”

And god, the sight was supposed to taunt those in the fucking audience - but it has Gojo’s slick-sheening cock twitching up in interest once more. Barely even knowing what he’s doing before spreading open your pussy lips with one swipe of his bawling tip, and then inside-

“You d-didn’t think we were done, ngh, did you, my wife?”

As if you could ever be done with him.

Pound after pound.

Gojo was so painfully hard right now he felt like he was going to explode - and he wanted- no, needed to be deeper than he ever has inside of you.

Which is what found him placing an unapologetic foot on top of your head, the slight jostle in angle making him swoon in a probing push against the very ends of your cervix. And every shaky thrust too hard made you feel like he was going to fuck an heir right into your awaiting womb.

“M’sorry-” he gasps, tearily. Wet splatters of the salty substance hitting the side of your shoulder as Gojo bends - and folds and folds you pliantly right along with him. “Don’t mean to- hngh- didn’t- fuck but I need it so badly- s-so deeply- don’t think I’ve bred this cute cunt ‘nough.”

Pushing you down with his utterly full bodyweight, you’re pinned to the platform. For every eye to see the snapping, creamy strings that connect his glossy cock to your overfilled cunt. It sprinkles across your ass and down your legs, and he’s eyeing down at the glossy pool of mess sticking between your two sweat-sheened bodies from before.

So badly.

It’s so much - too much.

Placing kiss after gliding kiss of his syrupy precum down the very bottom of your pussy, whining at the slight recoil that has him pushing back from the elastic depths of your cunt. Such a splitting stretch that bullies you wordless.

And it could’ve been hours - it could’ve been minutes until all that you can manage is a tiny huff that leaves your pouty lips with every wet squelch, and only makes his fat cock bludgeon even harder. He’s fucking you thoroughly, almost as if he hates you.

Yet, sounding so badly apologetic that you can’t help but crack a smile - at least, as much as you could when your sweet insides were being ravaged by him. “S’all f-for an heir, isn’t it, Toru–?”

God- and then he’s cumming.

Embarrassingly, almost-painfully - but still so needily.

It’s splattering and overfilling you so much that you feel your elastic walls pull taut at the sheer inflation, making you strangle out a sudden moan. Splat! splat! splattering a thin sheen down your inner thighs, the wet pumps have him fucking it even harsher to coat your spongy womb with his cum, knocking- begging for any sort of entrance.

Messy. So fucking messy that you feel your skin burn.

He can’t help it - oh, he can’t control himself when he’s pulling out for just a split-second to shuffle downwards and press his face right into your sopping folds. Latching his spit-slicked lips around your sensitive nub of a clit. Humming, sucking-

And through it all - you can just barely make out Gojo’s voice. Raw, broken. “D-don’t think it took…don’t think my h-heir took.”

“...”

It slowly evolves into Gojo’s own personal little manga - the very same that he gasps out over and over into your open mouth on the third round. Just a few more tears, a few more of his sloppy strokes in a prone bone that his aching body can barely even hold up.

Now well past the aphrodisiacs, and the allotted time for your initiation. But your audience was still seated, and the fatigue setting into both of you as you both cum with strangled cries - and Gojo’s stream of sweltering hot seed now noticeably wispier than usual.

But still - still it wasn’t enough.

And by the fourth round, you’re wondering how the hell it was that neither of you had broken any bones, yet. Especially considering the sloppy full nelson that your greedy husband had somehow managed to wrangle you into.

Slipping and sliding across one another in a way that had Gojo crying out in frustration, drool dripping down the side of his lips - all he really wanted to do was stuff his angry cock into you again.

The fifth and sixth rounds start before the previous one had even ended, you think. And you’re riding on a constant wave of high while Gojo’s weepy cock sobs out a few more spurts of seed all throughout.

Teeth clacking against your own in a mess of a kiss, voice dragging in tiny breaks at the very end of his throat. Gojo doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the rounded divot at the end of his overstimulated cock shivers out nothing.

And Gojo knows he should be cumming - he feels like he should be cumming.

But all his poor, half-softening cock can do is let out a gush of nothingness. Big, fat tears glistening down Gojo’s cheeks when he cums dry in the meanest mating press possible for both your tired bodies. Yet, still fucking you like he was with his cum again and again-

“You all-” Everyone jumps at the sudden, hoarse voice coming from the leader, having resigned himself to mere whimpers of your name and “heirs” by now. And the elders can’t even hold his droopy, barely-there gaze. Dangerous. “Bow. Bow to your new madam.”

A/N. Hope you all have a lovelyyy day.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

12K notes · View notes