#perhaps. she just wanted to see the look on Carrie's face
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For the 5+ headcanons, Id love to see a Julie centric Studio Ghibli AU if you dont mind 😊
I mean a Kiki's Delivery Service Jatp AU is kind of a perfect vibe, right?
-Julie gets her mom's old broom and nearly doesn't leave, even though she promised Rose she would before she passed. To be honest the idea of leaving for a year is very tempting, even if she has no idea what she's going to do with herself. Her magic is mostly tied to her music and she just... can't.
-It gets worse when on her first night flying away she runs into Carrie who is just coming back from her year away and the conversation does not go well.
-She manages to find a nice little room above a bakery. The lady who runs it reminds her of her Tía. She starts making deliveries, simply because flying is one of the few magics she can still manage.
-Her cat stops talking to her, flying seems to take more and more out of her.
-On the way home one day, she's flying along the shore when her broom starts to sputter. She manages to land, but it's not particularly graceful, and maybe she ends up with a face full of salt water. When she looks up, two boys are running towards her, asking her if she's okay.
-They take her back to their instruments, where a forth is waiting. He takes one look at her and sets off to where they've parked the van and comes back with a bunch of towels. He also insists on her borrowing his hoodie, because she's shivering. The ocean was still very cold.
-She tries to demure but they insist. They say they'll play one more song, and then they'll pack up and drive her home, since her... mode of transportation is faulty.
-Reggie is just obsessed with the broom and tries to make it go. She tries to explain that the magic comes from the witch and not the broom but he's so cute and funny running around with it that she doesn't have the heart.
-The band plays their song and Julie... well, Julie feels her magic spark up inside of her in a way it hasn't in almost a year.
-They drive her home, and her cat is suddenly talking again, and by the time she realises she's still wearing Alex' hoodie, they've already left.
-Maybe she finds her mom's song at the bottom of her bag, folded in one of her cozy 'I'm sad' sweaters.
-Thankfully, the nice lady has an old piano in her attic, and when Julie plays, everything comes to life.
-She spends all her hard-earned money on a keyboard from the thrift store, tries not to think about how if this doesn't work, she'll be eating cat food next week because that's all she has left in the cupboards.
-She finds the boys at the pier again soon. It's hard to fly there with a keyboard strapped to her back, but she's so brimming with magic and excitement that she manages. She gives Alex back his hoodie and asks if she can play with them, just one song.
-Ray finds the first video of Julie and The Phantoms performing live before her letter even reaches him. He's so happy and proud.
#julie and the phantoms#AUs are awesome#not!fic#I wrote a thing#do they come back possibly in a flying van while making music together because it's the magic and not the object that flies#perhaps. she just wanted to see the look on Carrie's face#also you know Reggie and Willie tried to make her make a roomba fly like a skateboard
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ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
ʟᴀᴍʙᴇɴᴛ
⛧ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sukuna x (Fem)Reader
⛧ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: true form!sukuna, pregnant!reader, heian era customs, pregnancy, mentions of cannibalism, sukuna being an asshole (what do you expect)
⛧ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3767
⛧ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Carrying the King's of Curses child, you knew wouldn't be easy, but you were more than happy to have a baby of your own. Even if said baby was growing rapidly while being the source of your bad back and changing appetite.
⛧ᴀ/ɴ: sukuna fluff is hard to come by in my opinion and so sorry if he's ooc but i wanted him like this. also, this is for lemon and ava, two of my favorite sukuna babes 🤍
⛧twitter - ao3
Wrist flicking out, you fanned yourself, eyes heavy with the sleep you had been fighting as you pursed your lips and eyed the blooming trees of the garden. Spring was rounding itself off, the scorching weather approaching you knew in weeks as you could only prepare yourself to be practically bedridden due to your ‘condition’. You’d only arrived a year and a half prior, and you quickly realized you had not seen much of the palace still after taking a husband, be it due to the duties of a noble person who were bound to spend most their days inside and entertaining themselves another way.
You held back a snort, fanning yourself harder as you stopped and eyed a nearby bush full of bright fruit and as red as your husband’s eyes.
…Husband.
In your youth, you supposed the daydreams of living in nobility were only achievable through luck. Or perhaps told through a fortune told from the Omikuji you required as a teen, taking the fortunes of ‘blessing’ and ‘marriage’ with a grain of salt until you had grown into an adult and ran off to be elsewhere from the clutches on an arranged marriage. Into serving nobility, to becoming nobility wasn’t necessarily on your list, your marriage by all means was an unlawful one. Forged from blood and flesh when you remembered instead of sipping sake in front of the Gods, your husband-to-be curled his fingers around your wrist and bit into your palm to instead partake in you.
You had been enamored by him since you first met him, eyes memorizing every inch of his unusual face before taking his thumb into your mouth when he smeared his own blood across your lips. It had sealed your fate that moment, your love and lust for him bursting forth like a raging inferno then and during the commutation of your marriage. Something that had finally taken into effect and was weighing down on you heavily.
One you supposed was the reason for the wariness when it came to serving you.
Cutting your eyes to the side and slightly behind you, you held the sigh in, your attendant keeping her eyes on the ground (perhaps watching your feet when you walked) as to shield her pensive expression from you, however you were not the unobservant type and focused on the knot between her eyebrows. Mai, your first and most loyal attendant, was never one to shy away from pestering over you, speaking her mind and filling in for advice whenever you needed it, so to see her quiet and on edge grated your nerves more than you liked to admit. She had been your first friend when you arrived, and you absolutely despised when she reverted back into the meek and submissive attendant she played whenever your husband was around, and it was enough to make you frown and worry if you had done something wrong.
You sighed loudly, snapping your fan shut and turning to the woman slowly, “You look like you have something you want to say.”
Mai’s eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, long and curled as her doe-like eyes rose to meet yours. She seemed to mull over your statement, before bowing her head in submission and speaking quietly, “Permission to speak?”
A smile graced your lips, softening your expression and nodding to her in return, “You always have permission with me, Mai.”
And just like that, Mai’s entire attitude flipped at your nonchalance. Straightening herself up, she dropped the service act and eyed you with suspicion and wary, mixed in with tired disappointment at having to cater to your more… reckless wants. “It’s just that Lord Sukuna has told us to monitor you and keep you in the palace when he’s away. And you’ve disobeyed that… again.”
Ah, there it was. With a scowl threatening to mar your face, you turned your back to her and began to pick through the strawberries in the bush you had been eyeing before, “I’m in the gardens. That’s still the palace… Is it not?”
“Yes, but –”
“This one looks ripe…” you cut her off, not necessarily wanting to hear her prattle on about how your husband made it horrifyingly clearly that you were to say inside at all times when he wasn’t at the palace. You’d heard it all before so many times it had been practically engraved into your skull with ink, and you were fed up with sitting on your knees inside away from the outside world and learning calligraphy constantly. Lips downturned you plopped a good-looking strawberry into your mouth, humming at the juice and tangy sweetness that exploded upon your taste buds, before your stomach gave an abrupt twist and a foot kicked out against your ribs. You winced and rubbed at your belly while the fruit suddenly tasted foul, and you swallowed with a grimace, “I hate how hungry I get nowadays, especially when I seem to crave more than just human food.”
Mai had been watching you like a hawk, leaning forward to intercept you whenever you reached for another fruit, “Oh, let me get it for you –”
“Please, Mai, I can pick my own strawberries. You worry too much.” Batting her hand away, you plucked it, hiding it in your sleeve and turning to her with an exhausted smile as she took your fan from you.
“Yes, My Lady. But please consider my words, we can keep you entertained in the palace.” You watched the lines on her face carefully, creased at her eyes and wrinkles forming at her forehead, and you could only wonder if your pregnancy had been the cause of her newly formed stress (partly, you knew you could’ve blamed it on your husband, his aggressive and aloof behavior all in one keeping most of the servants on the tips of their toes, but you quickly squashed it whenever you remembered she tended to you entirely).
Of course, you knew she was only doing her job, however her job was also giving you a severe case of claustrophobia being cooped up inside all the time. It wasn’t like you were planning to ever leave the palace’s premises either, just small strolls in the garden or spending time by the pond to cool off. Honestly, you had reason to believe she and your husband were just worrywarts (yet for the latter, you would keep that strictly to yourself).
You nodded your head in the direction you wanted to go, signaling Mai to walk beside you as you sighed and lowered your voice, “The midwife told me exercise will help…” you caressed your palm over your protruding stomach, “The baby is already huge and only seems to keep growing. A little sun helps me too, Mai… I can’t stay cooped up forever.”
Mai took a few moments to respond, her shoulders relaxing and her voice regaining familiarity, “I’m only worried since the last time you fainted out here.”
Lips thinning outwards, you remembered it all too well. Not necessarily fainting, though you blamed it on the many layers you wore around the palace and how warm it was getting outside, but you remembered the aftermath and how your husband had all but slaughtered a few lowly servants in retaliation as to letting you out (and because of his temper). You had thought the gore would’ve had you running, but you’d grown so used to him murdering someone whenever they slightly pissed him off you could only sigh at the thoughts. Of course, you knew Mai’s worry also came out of fear, however you weren’t about to let him do anything to her. “I know, but I feel fine… Just swollen feet and my back aching every time I move.”
And the baby kicking at your body whenever something displeased him.
Mai sighed your name exasperatingly, dropping the formalities, “Please, given your condition I think it’s best if you return to the palace.”
Irritation began to seep in your muscles, your baby moving in response to your emotions as your feet marched faster to walk. If you wanted to walk around the garden, you were allowed to, you would deal with your husband later if he found out. “What my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him… Just another stroll and we can go back in, I’m getting tired anyways.”
“My Lady – oh!”
Mai abruptly skidded to a halt, body bending quickly into a low enough bow for the towering sight of your husband appearing before you both. You spared her a quick glance, flickering back to your husband, Lord Sukuna, when you realized he wasn’t the least bit concerned over her. He kept all four eyes on you, a challenging glare in them and you nearly wanted to laugh at the sight of two of his arms crossed and the other two planted on his hips. He looked every part of a disappointed husband – a father in the making, and you could already feel the talking your ear was going to get. Ah well, you could always feign falling asleep on him, that seemed to always make him softer.
Bending slightly into your own bow, he spoke, addressing Mai with a singular command, “Leave,” and you only returned back to your own height whenever you peeked that she was gone. You held back the groan at the pull your spine gave, wincing slightly at the shine of the sun before his large form eclipsed it as he finally moved close to you with no one in sight. The familiarity of his warmth and scent eased some of your irritability, wondering why he was back to early and ecstatic that he came to look for you once he couldn’t find you.
You smiled up at him, rolling the strawberry around your fingers before gesturing with your head to the path you had been walking, “Walk with me?”
Sukuna was ever-so unwavering in his staring, watching you practically dawdle in your place with the world’s most unamused expression, “Weren’t you told to stay inside?”
You repressed a shudder at his rough voice as your skin prickled, another sigh leaving while your shoulders slumped; caught. “I might remember you telling me that.” He seemed to not be in the mood for your sweettalking.
A loud exhale made your smile turn sheepish. “You piss me off.”
You knew that was coming, pulling out your hand from the sleeve to produce the strawberry from before, letting his eyes follow the way you rolled it into your palm, “But you’re here now… Nothing could really happen now since I have you.”
Sukuna’s eyebrow furrowed, eyes narrowing inward before he scowled at you enough to let his upper lip slightly curve over his teeth, “Changing the subject won’t help you. Are you gonna walk back, or do I have to carry your ass and –"
In a bold move you silenced him, pressing the strawberry to his lips with two fingers and slightly pushing it forward in hopes he would eat it. His eyes couldn’t narrow or glare any further, shooting from you to the fruit, and holding them there for a few moments and you wanted to giggle because it nearly looked like he pouting. Your husband never really ate human food, perhaps to humor you before he would spit it out and complain about the horrid taste it gave him, however there were a few times his interest would peak and want a bite of whatever you had in your hand – especially when said food seemed to satisfy you so much. You supposed it was his curiosity to understand you better, having a human in such close quarters and as a wife was perhaps as jarring as it was to have him as your husband.
Toying with him, you said, “It gave me bad taste earlier… Want to try it?”
Sukuna’s lips twitched behind the fruit, a clear sign he’d indulge you that time and when you went to move your hand away from him, one of his hand snatched your wrist with a small squeeze. An unspoken word for you to leave your fingers on the fruit and indulge him. And you did so with coquettish blink, pressing the strawberry harder against his lips until they gave way and his teeth were biting into it with the juice from inside sliding down your fingers as he slowly and sensually ate the strawberry from your fingertips. It didn’t help that he kept his eyes on your own the whole time, your cheeks burning as you never were able to get used to your husband’s forward assertion on sensuality.
Your breath caught and eyes widened when his tongue slid over the length of your fingers before slipping in his mouth and sucking on them until they were free of any residue stickiness. You couldn’t help the rapid beat of your heart, lips parting as his thumb tapped in rhythm to your pulse point before he let go of your fingers with a loud ‘plop!’ and a satisfied hum rumbling out of him as you could only gaze dumbfounded at the saliva coating your fingers. After a few moments you cleared your throat and swallowed, eyeing him warily as you knew his stomach probably wouldn’t last long and he’d be hacking it up with loud complaining.
And on cue, you watched fascinated as the mouth on his stomach frowned.
Oh, here it comes. It never lasted long in his system.
You sighed as he spat it out, licking his lips and scowling at the ground, “You’re right, tastes like shit.”
“Would you like me to say something to the servants?” you asked, mentally cheering with a soft smile on your face when he fell into step with you to walk along the gardens. It was never hard to get what you wanted out of him.
“It’s not poor gardening skills, it’s you.” You opened your mouth, ready to backtalk at the insult, yet he silenced you with a hand raised before one of his fingers traced along your cheek, “Weren’t you waddling in and practically whining for some of my food?”
How could you forget, a week ago you’d been lured out of your bed chamber by the most mouthwatering smell and your baby kicking incessantly once your stomach growled. You had stumbled upon Sukuna and Uruame, the latter making Sukuna’s dinner and the dinner something you never were to partake in since his appetite did not quell your hunger. However, when you found yourself salivating with your stomach rumbling and your baby kicking, it was a jarring experience to come to realize you were indulging in cannibalism and liked it. Liked it so much your child never rolled in a fit that night and Sukuna had been extra attentive to you afterwards with his praising.
An answer was on your tongue, though you chose to neglect saying anything when your taste buds twitched at the thought of that dinner and instead enjoyed your walk in peace. Your husband only snorted, a slight laugh leaving him at your pout before he returned his limbs to himself and rolled his gaze forwards on the path you’d been on. Times with him were normally relaxing as he was actually rather lazy when he had nothing to do, his affections ranging from just enjoying your presence in silence to twirling your hair around his finger whenever you were close enough. You never minded, glad to spend time with him though it was equally as nice whenever he seemed get even clingier once finding out you were pregnant.
Even his soft, lingering touches moments ago set your heart ablaze, and you wondered if he felt the same whenever you ran your fingers through his hair whenever he felt like resting his head in your lap.
Minutes into your relaxing walk you felt it, an agonizing cramp pulsing in your back and the soles of your feet screaming in protest at being mobile for too long. Of course, you get some time to do something with him and your body halts that and screams at you to stop. You didn’t want to say anything, not wanting to bother him nor ruin the peaceful moment you were so grateful to have. Although the pain in your body had other plans, cramping upwards and throbbing whenever you tried to take another step so much you immediately had to double over with one hand resting on your stomach.
You stopped, the other hand moving to hold your aching back, and you were vaguely surprised he stopped at the same time. A wince and awkward bouts of silence later, you groaned and straightened back up, “I’m sorry, I think it gets worse every day.”
Sukuna remained silent and still, before a rumbling from his chest prickled the hair on the nape of your neck. “Hm, almost like you should’ve listened to me.” He was back in that disappointed husband stance, and you knew if you were to look into his face you’d see the smug grin at your misfortune. Gritting your teeth you didn’t give him the satisfaction, watching glumly as he sighed rather loudly and moved away from your side to continue walking in the direction of this palace.
You reaped what you sowed you supposed, having to walk back alone after being told not to be out of the palace when he wasn’t there. And your body complaints for moving about too much agreed, a quiet moan of frustration leaving you as you closed your eyes and counted to ten to calm your nerves, reopening them when the pain muted itself into a dull ache for the time. However, you completely clammed up at the sight of your husband bent down in front of you, the black of his haori draped over his shoulders shielding your view of his sculpted back and his face turned forward giving you no indication of what he was doing.
Yet, he did seem like he said something, though you were too befuddled to even understand what he had said.
“What –”
“Are you deaf?” he interrupted, turning his head slightly and motioning with his head from you to climb onto him, “I said get on, before I change my mind.”
He wanted you… to ride… on his back? Never once did he ever engage in something like that with you (besides carrying you in his arms, but that had been the night of your wedding and he’d practically tossed you on your beds afterwards), though you weren’t about to pass by the chance for him to carry you. Though you weren’t too sure how to climb on his back and hold on so heavily pregnant, Sukuna didn’t have four arms for nothing you supposed.
Not wanting him to change his mind and keep him waiting, you clambered onto him to best you could dressed in several layers with your legs kicking free to slip underneath the lower set of his arms. You held back a squeal when your baby kicked at all the movements, arms flying forward to nearly constrict Sukuna’s airway off as he in return grunted and stood to his full height while beginning to move forward in a slow pace. You were grateful he was taking it slow, still trying to get comfortable and trying not to think about how bad it would hurt to fall off his back from his enormous height…
“Stop fucking squirming…” he grunted again, readjusting you with his arms as your body reclined higher up on his back and he continued walking, “Acting like I’ve never touched you before.”
“It’s not that. He – “ you cut yourself off, you hadn’t necessarily told him that you believed your baby was a boy, and you didn’t want to hear any of his teasing, “the baby kicks and squirms whenever I move too much.” Or whenever he hears your voice, you groused, further proving your point when he kicked at you again whenever Sukuna spoke once more. You wondered if he could feel the kick on his back.
“Damn.” A pause of silence and Sukuna was jostling you on his back, “How much does that prick weigh? Or is that all you?”
Your hand itched to slap the back of his neck, though you held yourself together and only offered him a scoff while making yourself comfortable, “He takes after his father.”
“And he wiggles like a worm, just like his mother.”
You had half a mind to say something about him referring to your child as a boy, your cheeks hot when you rested your chin atop his shoulder and eyes growing lidded with sleep while he inadvertently rocked you with his steps. You bit the inside of your cheek in a girlish thought that your husband was walking slower on purpose, rolling your ankles to stop you from kicking your feet at the idea he wanted to spend more time with you alone. Then again, he was doing all of it for you when he could’ve just left you alone, or not come out to find you at all.
Maybe some days he missed you as much as you missed him.
In a bold declaration, you pushed yourself forward until your nose was skimming Sukuna’s cheek, a chaste kissed you placed there seconds later whenever he didn’t say or do anything to push you away, “Thank you, my Lord.”
Sukuna hummed low in his throat, a deep rumbling that vibrated against your arms and soothed your aching ribs, “Don’t get used to it. I just didn’t want to wait around for your slow ass to waddle back in.” Though he sounded rather harsh, you knew he was just doing roundabout affection in his own way.
Your head lolled against his, the leaves on the trees above swaying you into a warm midday nap the longer you watched them through your eyelashes, “Take me to bed?”
You didn’t necessarily hear his response, though you weren’t dreaming it when his fingers tightened the hold he had on your thighs, the warmth he emitted doing wonders for the pains in your body as he secured you further into his back to ensure you didn’t fall off. You couldn’t help the smile, your cheek smushed into his shoulder as you took one final look at the sunlight path before you both and closed your eyes as exhaustion took its hold over.
With a last conscious thought, you reminded yourself to thank Mai later for allowing you a nice stroll in the garden – especially when you were doing it with your family.
#{🩸} nee fics#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk sukuna#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk smut#sukuna smut
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jade my lovely, i would kill for more early season spencer and bombshell!reader. i love them sm!! (i also love seeing the mentions of elle, like that’s my bbg)
“You aren’t still mad.”
You take a sip of your coffee and refuse to answer.
Elle rolls her eyes. It’s unrestrained, as is her deep sigh. “Whatever.”
You drink more coffee. Think about it, can’t contain it, “Whatever yourself, Greenaway.”
“I want it just as bad as you do.”
“But I’m better.”
“You’re not better. You’re less likeable, there’s a difference.”
You weren’t surprised when they chose Elle for the open BAU position, but you were gutted nonetheless. Pretending it doesn’t bother you comes easily, just not when she’s rubbing it in your face. “Can you leave that?”
She hands over the stapler she’d been about to put in her cardboard. You don’t own one, and you decide to forgive her when she hands it to you without argument. “You want anything else?”
“No, it’ll just remind me of you.” You sniff.
“At least you’ll have an empty desk beside yours for a while. It’ll be good for your afternoon meditation.”
“Hopefully, they’ll fill your absence with a very attractive new recruit.” You’d like that, a hottie to crush on. Now Elle’s leaving, you’ll have no one to project your fantasies on to make it through the work day. “How will you cope?”
“What, without you?” Elle asks.
“With all the BAU hotties. Everybody on that team is maddeningly attractive,” you say with a put upon swoon, back of your hand curled and thrown to land against your forehead.
“I didn’t realise you felt that way about Jason Gideon. Perhaps if you’d made that known, you’d be packing your desk up instead of me,” Elle laughs.
“Well, maybe not Gideon. But the rest of them. Derek… if you take him seriously, he’s gorgeous. And Hotch–”
“He’s married. And older than us by ten years.”
“He’s handsome, is what he is. So quietly funny and moody. I’m not telling you to ruin his marriage, I’m just saying he’s distracting.”
“And Spencer Reid?” she asks.
You grin. “He’s cute.”
“Morgan said you asked him out for coffee?”
“He wanted to tell me about water bugs.” It was sudden but sweet, he’d started a tangent on how they can walk on water because they’re small and hydrophobic, then asked if you really wanted to know, which you did.
“He’s cute,” Elle says, raising her brows.
“Have you seen him turn to the side? His jawline is ridiculous.”
“He looks a little… dorky,” Elle says finally. She isn’t mean-spirited, just honest about her tastes.
“I like dorks. And I really loved him, he was adorable. Derek’s been hazing him, so maybe you could be nicer? I think he really needs a friend.”
“You don’t want to be that friend?”
You smile. “I do. But I can’t exactly do that from Sex Crimes.”
“Well, you can help me carry my stuff to the BAU. Come on.”
“And look desperately needy? Is there anything worse than going where you’re not wanted?”
“Morgan will be happy to see you. Maybe Dorky Spencer will be there to tend your BAU shaped wounds.”
“You’re heartless, Greenaway.”
You put your arms out obediently for her box. She grabs her jacket and her bag, gives her desk a last sweep, and turns away. It’s the last time she’ll ever sit at her desk in the Sex Crimes Unit, and it’s the most envious you’ve ever been of a friend. You want more than anything to be in her position. Profiling isn’t mythical to you, it’s a science you’ve studied, and you believe you could do it well if they just gave you time to learn on the job like they’ve done for Elle.
But the position is filled. There’s no room left on the team.
No need for a sex crimes expert now they’ve chosen Elle.
You’re going to have to make yourself useful in other ways, or play politics, or, better, make friends.
Hotch likes you, you know that, and Derek’s awesome. Gideon is the one you need to convince, but for some reason he’s totally sworn off of you. Luckily for you, he isn’t out in the BAU office when you enter, it’s just Derek, Spencer Reid, and Elle’s waiting desk.
“Hi boys,” she greets.
Derek turns.
Spencer puts down his book. You meet his eyes.
You’re far more flirty than Elle. “Hi, Derek. Hi, Dr. Reid.”
Derek grins and takes Elle’s box from your arms. “Hi, girls. Happy moving day.”
You don’t really want to talk about it, think about it, or come off as a jealous jerk, so you do a little bit of performance. “What are you reading?” you ask Spencer, pretending to be interested, hoping he’ll throw you a rope. You spot a familiar creature on the cover and your smile legitimises. “Is that about pond skaters?”
“It’s Small Freshwater Creatures,” he says, shy but somehow firm, too. His tone changes as he relays facts. “It’s an identification guide, but it does talk about the specifics.”
“You really like bugs, huh?”
“I wanted to know more about it in case you came back.”
You can’t help grinning. “That's really sweet,” you say earnestly, “did you learn anything new? You sounded like an expert already.”
“They’re predators. They eat mosquito larvae.”
“Oh, awesome, so if we had a few more pond skaters in the world we’d be better off.”
You prop yourself on Spencer’s desk as he begins to rattle of facts and figures. Not too far away, Elle and Derek talk under their breaths.
“Is it me, or is she into him?” Derek asks.
“Maybe more than she realises.” Elle bites back a smile, stealing glances at you from over Derek’s shoulder. You’re more interested in what he has to say than anything she’s seen on you before. You lean in, your eyes bright. A little flirty, ever so slightly teasing, but genuine, too, as Spencer begins a quick spiel.
“Well, he’s a goner,” Derek laughs.
Elle doesn’t know about that. You don’t play with people’s hearts.
There’s a teeny, tiny strand of shyness to you as you touch your neck. You begin rolling the chain links of your necklace along your finger, causing poor Dr. Reid to lose his train of thought. Two people entirely unaware of the road they’re embarking on.
“Do you guys have a stapler?” Elle asks. “I lost mine in the divorce.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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12:45am — gojo satoru ;
“cute earrings, where’d you get them?” shoko asks.
“hm?” still clinging to sleep, you absentmindedly reach up to caress the metal dangling from your ear. the sharp indents of its gem pricks you back into a memory. “oh, these. i got them from a friend last week.”
“friend? or do you mean boyfriend?”
shoko’s words are throwaway, her wandering eyes and yawn a clear indication yet your face warms despite yourself. shaking your head furiously, you exclaim, “a friend! just a friend."
shoko hums, shifting her cigarette to the other end of her mouth. her gaze flickers somewhere behind you and you almost look too, when her words pull you back. “come to think of it, i don’t think you’ve ever told me what your type was.”
“my type?” your mind blanks. “i’ve probably never told you because i’ve never thought about it myself. i mean, being a jujutsu sorcerer and all, romance is kind of off the table.”
shoko keeps looking at you, pressing you without words. you grimace and sigh.
"i mean, i guess, maybe someone good looking? someone who’s not boring? and now that we're talking about it, someone who is fit and athletic too. they'd have to be smart, but not book-smart, like, street-smart." the more you think of it, the more words seem to spill from your mouth. "and someone who has a good sense of humour, someone who will make me laugh.”
“someone good looking, interesting, sporty, smart and funny? that’s too greedy.”
you giggle. “you’re right, there’s no way there’s anyone that perfect. i guess i’ll have to be single forever.”
“you'll always have me.” shoko says, grinning.
you push her shoulder but don’t deny it.
yaga walks into the classroom, cutting your conversation short. you spin around in your seat to face the front, eyes accidentally meeting gojo’s. he turns around too, and you reason that he was probably looking out the window behind you. you see getou snicker and whisper something in his ear, but gojo seemed to be having none of it, blatantly ignoring him.
seeing his face makes you think. didn’t gojo kind of match your type? someone attractive, interesting, athletic and maybe not academic smart, but he definitely carried an air of confidence when it came to fighting. and it wasn't a secret that he lightened the air wherever he went, intentionally or not.
with a start, you look back at shoko. “and someone calm. someone with manners.”
“well-mannered and calm. what insane preferences.” shoko chuckles. “are there any more?"
yaga slams his hand on the table a few times, reluctantly drawing your attention back to the front.
your previous conversation dies and twiddles away into the background, overtaken by droning lectures and predictable missions. by the end of the day, you can't even remember what you had told shoko early that morning.
when you enter the classroom the next day, you’re surprised to find gojo already there, seated at his table. his sunglasses hangs lower on his nose than usual and most curiously of all, a book is held in his hands. you’re not sure if he’s actually reading or not considering that pages were being turned far too quickly for someone reading “ordinary objects” by amie thomasson.
his eyes flicker to yours as you head in. “good morning.”
“morning. what’s with you?”
gojo clears his throat. “what ever do you mean?”
your frown transitions to a grimace. “why are you talking like that? did you break something of mine? was it my potted plant, gojo i told you to take good care of it!”
“i am taking care of it! it’s not dead yet!” he exclaims before pausing uncharacteristically. he sits back in his chair and turns back to his book. “i mean, it’s fine.”
“you sure?”
“i am.”
you narrow your eyes before looking away, dropping into your seat. “it better be. shoko got me that one.”
“speaking of shoko, is she not coming today?”
“i think she stayed overnight at the morgue.”
“is that so? perhaps i should write notes for her. i wouldn’t want her to miss out on class.”
you turn to him horrified. “so you did kill my plant!”
“i said it’s not dead!” gojo bursts. another pause. he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. “i simply worry for her.”
you stare at him and watch as he fidgets under your gaze. “are you feeling sick? did you eat something wrong?”
“i’m not sick. what part of me looks sick?"
“well you’re usually not this…” you watch him as you wrack your brain, trying to find a word to describe this situation. “c…”
gojo leans forward. “yes?”
“crazy.”
he falls back in his chair, groaning, book forgotten and placed harshly down on the table.
you tilt your head. “where's getou, you guys didn’t come to class together? don’t tell me you fought.”
gojo peers up and frowns. “no, can i not show up to class early just because i feel like it?”
“it would be extremely out of character, yeah.” you rest your chin on your hand as you watch gojo mutter to himself, his jaw jutted out and his nose scrunched.
he was clearly unhappy, it didn’t take a scholar to know. it might take a genius to figure out why though.
you had time to kill, might as well take up the challenge. maybe he hadn’t had his morning dose of sugar yet, or maybe his favourite anime had delayed it’s upcoming episode. maybe he didn't save properly on the new game he was playing, or maybe he simply didn't sleep well last night. or maybe he had lied to you and he had fought with getou, leading to this strange attitude.
the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. the way he was acting now was like a mockery to getou's usual behaviour.
“are you trying to be like getou?” you try.
gojo whirs around to face you. “what?”
“well, you’re trying to be composed.” he keeps staring at you and you clear your throat. “like more well-mannered. more calm.”
gojo remains silent but you watch as his jaw drops. you think that he might say something but then his mouth closes, only to open again.
gojo speechless, what a sight. but as good of a sight as it was, you were beginning to feel concerned.
“are you sure you’re alright? what did you eat yesterday?”
he doesn’t register your question. “you think getou is well-mannered?”
“yeah?”
“and calm?”
you nod. “more than you, at least.”
“do you think he’s interesting too? sporty? smart? funny?” he pauses. “good-looking?”
the questions throw you off guard and you sit up. “what? where is this coming from?”
“oh my god, you do.”
“no? i mean, i think getou’s great and everything—”
“you think getou’s great?”
“don’t you?”
“you think getou’s hot.” he concludes. “and you think getou’s great.”
"what are you even saying?"
"i don't know. why don't you tell me?"
baffled, you flail for words. “are you jealous of him? that's strange, i didn’t think either of you would ever feel jealous of each other.”
gojo grits his teeth and looks away. with a pout, he says, “me neither.”
the door to the classroom is thrown open and getou steps through, rubbing the back of his neck. he yawns on his way to his chair and it wakes him up, looking between you and gojo as you both watch him enter.
“what did you guys do?” he asks with a sigh.
“nothing!”
“nothing.” gojo says and glares at him.
getou blinks.
“okay.” he says slowly, sliding out his chair and sitting. “what did i do then? why are you both looking at me like that?”
“gojo’s being weird.” you snitch. “are you guys fighting?”
“how should i know? i thought we were doing okay. gojo, if i did something, use your words and tell me.”
"i'll use my words to tell you to suck my dick instead."
"so i did do something. you're so predictable, gojo."
you snicker as gojo huffs and glances away, looking away out the window behind your head. his train of sight cuts right past you but you can’t help but feel slightly flustered as he looks on, almost like he was looking at you, so determined to ignore getou’s pestering.
subconsciously, you drown getou out too, your traitorous mind observing the blue in gojo’s eyes. you had always thought it was just one colour, but looking at it now, it seemed more like a kaleidoscope of blues, the many shades sparkling and dimming as he watched birds flutter outside the window, and you watched their shadows through his eyes.
something shifts, in the air or in the skies you don't know, and gojo meets your eye. startled, you hold the gaze and he holds it too, just long enough for your lungs to run out of air.
you look away hastily and inhale.
gojo glances to the front, oddly fidgety.
getou looks between the two of you. “what the fuck was that?”
“nothing.” gojo says.
getou clearly doesn't buy it but though he tries to get an answer out of you, you don't give him one either. cupping your cheeks, your thoughts mirror his question. what was that? it was embarrassing, that's what it was and your realisation is only heightened as a silence fills all four corners of the classroom.
gojo clears his throat. “for me, i like someone who i'm already comfortable with. someone i already know.”
at his words, you look over at him and find him already staring. he frowns as you don't give him any other reaction.
yaga saves you from addressing his statement, walking into the room as the bell for class rang. "oh? you're all early, even you gojo. where's shoko?"
“she’s staying at the morgue because of the recent mission.”
“i see.” yaga nods. “then let’s start.”
your mind fails to work as you turn over gojo’s words, thinking them through. what did they mean? what was he talking about? did this weird confession have something to do with why he was acting so strange?
slowly, you draw connections between your conversation with gojo and the talk you had with shoko yesterday morning. an epiphany shoots through you and you cover your mouth to hide a gasp.
did that mean…?
someone he knew? acting strange? getting mad when you said you liked getou?
you watch gojo’s side profile, hoping he’d turn around. if what you thought was right, he’d turn.
seconds tick past. yaga’s voice drawls on and yet gojo doesn't even spare you a glance.
no, maybe you were wrong after all.
just as you were about to face yaga again, gojo’s head shifts and his eye flicks over to yours. they widen when he finds you, and you’re sure you’re in a similar shocked state.
oh my god, you think, eyes darting between him and the other boy in the room.
gojo has a crush on getou.
filler imagine based off of that One scene from the manga: "megane tokidoki yankee kun"
#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo imagine#gojo drabble#getou suguru#ieiri shoko#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#sashisu#sss trio#gojo hcs#gojo fluff
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Hi! I really adore your writing. You have really caught each guys essences.
If your requests are open, I was thinking of something like how each guy would carry you and in what type of scenario. I thought Zayne would do bridal style and Sylus over the shoulder, but if you see it differently, feel free to do it as you see fit 😊
How they would carry you (LaDS)
Note: This was such a cute request!! I had fun writing it, though I definitely rewrote Rafayel's like three times cause I couldn't make up my mind on the scenario. I went with a different idea for Zayne, but I think you'll like it ;)
I really hope you enjoy this! And I hope I wrote them all well. Thank you for the request.
Also, I'm incredibly sleep-deprived, so I apologize for any mistakes/inconsistencies.
---
Sylus *over the shoulder*
“My feet hurt,” you grumble.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have worn such cheap shoes,” Sylus hums, voice bordering on between teasing and mocking.
You shoot the man a glare. He gives you a smug smile in return, arms crossing over his chest.
Of course he’s right. But you can’t admit that, not after you made such a fuss about ignoring his warning before the night began. You had been stubborn, maybe a little too stubborn. The restaurant you were going to was just so nice, how could you not wear heels? You wanted to look nice for your date, and they paired so well with your dark cocktail dress. Of course you’d forgotten about how much they hate your feet.
Every step feels like a bunch of nails digging into your feet. Why did you park so far away? Oh right, because you thought the night was so nice, you wanted to take a little walk before dinner…Not your best idea in retrospect.
Another step makes you wince.
Sylus suddenly stops. This forces you to pause as well, your arm curled around his elbow as you walk. You glance at him questioningly, trying to hide the pain, not wanting to bother him further by complaining. Or endure more of his teasing.
But his gaze burns over you intensely. You shift a little, heat climbing up your cheeks, but putting your weight on your other foot only makes that prickling pain shoot up your leg, and you can’t stop your lips from twisting into a light grimace.
For a brief moment, Sylus’ face softens. He lets out a sigh before removing his jacket. Your brow furrows as he slips it around your waist, the warmth of the fabric covering your bare legs.
“Sylus?”
“I’m not so cruel as to make a woman suffer, kitten,” he hums, securing the coat by tying the sleeves. He then leans up to your face, lips quirking up into a smirk. “Especially when she got all dolled up and pretty just for me.”
Before you can blush even darker, you’re suddenly being thrown over his broad shoulder. You let out an undignified squeak, instinctively squirming to try and get out of his grip. You kick your legs, hands scrambling against his back.
“Sylus!”
“Careful, kitten, otherwise I might drop you,” Sylus warns, voice dancing with amusement. His hand slips below the hem of his jacket to curl over the back of your thighs, locking them to his chest. You freeze, heart fluttering wildly.
What a brute.
Though, there’s really nothing you can do to escape this man. Not that you really want to.
“Sylus, seriously, this isn’t funny,” you still whine, trying to keep face.
“Would you rather walk barefoot?”
Your nose scrunches at the thought. While you are in a nicer part of the city, it still sounds gross. You guess this is the lesser of two evils. Letting out a defeated sigh, you prop your elbows against his back to try to get comfortable. Also trying to ignore how defined his muscles feel against you.
Sylus hums approvingly, “There you go, kitten. Just relax.”
His hand tenderly squeezes your thigh and you’re actually thankful he can’t see just how red your face is. Probably as red as the wine you had with dinner.
It’s definitely embarrassing. Especially when you pass by a few people, catching their odd stares. But it’s hard to care when Sylus starts massaging your legs, his touch overwhelmingly gentle in contrast to his previous actions. His thumb presses firm circles into your ankle, drawing a breathy sigh from you.
“Feel better, sweetie?” He murmurs, and you can feel his voice rumble through your body.
“Definitely helps,” you breathe, “Though you could have just carried me in a more comfortable way, Sy.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
“This isn’t fun for me,” you grumble petulantly.
Sylus shifts, suddenly putting you down. You blink in surprise when you find yourself sitting on the hood of a familiar car, your lover leaning over you. His fingers trace your leg, grazing up your arm, until he can cup your cheek, bringing your faces so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips.
“And how can I make it up to you, my dear?” He purrs lowly, lips grazing yours teasingly.
“Well-” Letting out a shaky breath, you reach up and slip your arms around his neck. A blush still coats your cheeks, but you give him your best innocent look, pouting your lips as you mess with the silver strands at the nape of his neck. “I think a full massage at home might make up for the discomfort. The last one you gave me was pretty nice.”
Sylus quirks a brow in amusement, “Is that all?”
“Nope. I also want you to watch a sappy romcom with me. Then I’ll forgive your brutish ways.”
That breaks the intense air between you. Sylus chuckles, the sound deep and fond, making you smile. He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.
“I accept your terms, kitten.”
“Good. Now chop chop, mister! Let’s get home!”
---
Zayne *koala style*
“Darling.”
Your eyes flicker open, eyelids heavy. Letting out a sleepy hum, you drag your blurry gaze to meet a pair of warm, hazel eyes. Zayne kneels beside the car, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek to keep you from falling back asleep. You lean into his touch with a content sound, making him smile.
“We’ve arrived home,” he murmurs, voice quiet, “Would you like me to carry you inside?”
You nod, head still fuzzy with sleep. All you can really focus on is that you don’t want his touch to go away. It feels so nice.
“Alright. Can you wrap your arms around my neck for me, darling?”
You reach out blearily, your fingers blindly finding their way into the soft strands of hair at his nape. Zayne carefully turns you until your legs dangle out of the car, giving him a better angle to slip an arm under you. He picks you up like you weigh nothing, drawing you flush against his chest.
You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, letting out another happy hum as he readjusts you so you can tuck your face into his neck. One of his hands stays secured under you, the other sliding up to hold the back of your neck tenderly.
It’s almost impossible to not fall back asleep like this. Surrounded by his warmth, his fingers massaging your neck so lovingly, the gentle sway of his body as he walks. Your eyes flicker closed again as you nuzzle deeper into your lover.
You love when Zayne holds you like this. Not that bridal style isn’t nice, but this is just so much closer, so much easier for you to wrap yourself around him. Plus you like the feeling of his fingers gripping your thighs, reminding you of just how strong the doctor is. It just makes you feel…safe.
“Wish you’d carry me like this more,” you mumble thoughtlessly into his neck.
“Is that so?” Zayne hums, a small smile curling his lips.
“Mhm.”
You press a sluggish kiss to his collarbone to show just how much you like it. Zayne’s steps falter imperceptibly. But you notice, a bubbly giggle escaping you.
“Don’t trip, Doctor Zayne,” you tease sleepily.
He pinches your thigh in warning. “Perhaps a certain hunter shouldn’t be so distracting.”
You squeak, pulling yourself further up by his shoulders. Zayne chuckles, palm smoothing over the spot, though he didn’t actually pinch you that hard. Still. You draw back a little to pout at him.
“So mean, Doctor Zayne. What if I bruise?”
“My apologies, darling,” he murmurs, not at all apologetic. You hold your pout, only weakening when he tilts his face up to brush your noses together. “I’ll be sure to treat it once we get inside. A kiss should do, hm?”
God, he’s so perfect. You’re not sure your heart can take it. The warmth behind his eyes, the small, rare show of affection. It leaves a lingering heat under your skin that turns your cheeks rosy pink, and you duck your face back into his shoulder to hide your blush.
“So, so mean,” you grumble.
A fond smile graces Zayne’s lips. If he’s being honest, he likes carrying you like this. He likes how you feel in his arms, your weight, your warmth, the rise and fall of your chest against his. It’s not often you let him take care of you without complaint, so he takes full advantage of when you do. It helps calm whatever deep-seated need he has to look after you.
The fact that you’re so easy to fluster is a mere bonus.
You settle back into a comfortable silence, barely paying attention as Zayne navigates through your apartment complex. You only notice when he shifts his arm further under you so he can fish his keys from his back pocket and unlock your shared apartment.
He doesn’t bother to turn on any lights as he carries you through your home, straight to your room. You grumble as he bends down to set you on the edge of the bed, your fingers tightening around his neck when he starts to draw back.
“Don’t go,” you plead softly.
“Wouldn’t you rather be in more comfortable clothes, sweetheart?”
“‘m already comfy,” you assure him, leaning against his chest, “Just take your pants off and cuddle with me.”
“What a bold patient I have,” he teases, though his voice dips into a low timber that makes you shiver.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, doctor,” you whisper, a little bashful, cheeks going warm again. “Just don’t want you to stop holding me.”
Zayne softens. His fingers trace along your heated cheek, drawing you back just enough so he can lean down and capture your lips in a lingering kiss. You press into him immediately, a delighted sigh passing your lips when he settles onto the bed beside you. When the kiss ends, you tuck yourself back into his side, content once again now that you get your way. A drawn-out yawn escapes you, and Zayne curls his arms around your waist, guiding you so your head can rest against his chest.
“Sleep now, I won’t go anywhere,” he promises softly into your hair.
“Mmm, love you, Zayne.”
“I love you too, my snowflake.
---
Rafayel *bridal style*
“Oh, “ you chirp, cool air washing over you as you step out of the venue, “it’s raining.”
The two of you were attending the opening night of Rafayel’s new exhibit. You’re surprised you didn’t even hear the rain, considering the streets look about flooded already. Puddles collect along the sidewalk, a small river running along the edge of the road. Paired with the rapidly setting sun, it leaves a chill in the air that makes you shiver slightly.
“I like it,” Rafayel hums and drapes an arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You glance at him, biting back a smile when he playfully avoids your gaze, as if trying to keep your warm might hurt his “cool” factor. “The smell of the ocean is stronger when it rains, don’t you think? And the puddles look like tide pools.”
“They certainly do,” you giggle, “though neither of us are really prepared for the rain. Should we call a cab? I’d hate to ruin these shoes since you just got them for me.”
You look down at the kitten heels you’d worn for the event. They’re so cute, a soft baby blue color, decorated with little pearls. You remember pointing them out to Rafayel on one of your walks down the pier. They were just so pretty, and reminded you so much of him in a way, but the price was out of your range. Not that it deterred Rafayel, of course, who secretly went back the next day to get them for you.
A pair of shoes really shouldn’t mean that much to you, but every gift from Rafayel feels special. You can’t bear the thought of messing them up.
“Hmm, I think I have an easy solution.”
You let out a squeak when Rafayel suddenly ducks and sweeps you up into his arms, bridal style. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him for dear life at the sudden loss of balance. The sound of Rafayel’s laughter rings in the air, light and full of mirth, as he dashes into the rain with you.
“Rafayel!” You squawk and break into your own fit of laughter despite the icy cold rain immediately drenching your clothes. “Rafayel! Put me down!!”
“I’m already carrying you, putting you down would just be more work,” he teases, that infuriatingly charming smile pulling at his lips. “Now you don’t have to worry about the puddles, at least.”
“But we’re still getting soaked!” You squeal, trying to hide away from the rain by tucking your face into his neck. “Why didn’t we just call a cab?”
“A little rain won’t hurt us, yeah?”
“Says the merman. It’s freezing.”
Rafayel chuckles, the sound close to your ear. Warmth blooms across your cheeks when he presses a kiss to your temple, the touch lingering and soft with adoration, making everything slow down for just a moment.
“Then hold me tight.” he whispers, voice dipping to a low rumble that has your heart racing, “Take my warmth. It’s yours, my beloved bride.”
Any remaining complaints get lost somewhere in your throat. The heat under your skin rivals the cold. A dark blush coats your cheeks, and you try to bury yourself against his chest. You can’t hide from him though, your neck just as rosy, and you can practically feel Rafayel beaming with pride.
Stupid fish.
But he is warm.
You let out a wavering sigh, pressing the cold tip of your nose into the warm crook of his neck. Rafayel shivers, but his hold around you only tightens, as if he wants to envelop you in the heat of his body. It’s almost like being held by one of those heat up stuffies. It’s so comfortable, you can’t help but melt into him, fondness for the merman curling deep inside your bones.
“Do you always run this warm?” You murmur and rest your cheek against his shoulder so you can look at his face.
“Not always,” he hums. A stray drop of rain drips down his jaw and you reach to brush it away. Rafayel’s voice shakes almost imperceptibly at the touch, the tips of his ears going red, “For the most part, Lumerians endure harsh, cold temperatures, so we actually run colder than you humans.”
“Then why are you so warm?” You ask curiously.
His blush only spreads, until his cheeks match yours. The artist glances away, almost looking embarrassed to admit, “My fire evol is useful for more than just fighting wanderers, you know.”
Ah. So he can warm himself up with his evol. And he’s doing it to keep you warm.
The revelation fills your chest with a giddy kind of love. Like, a fuzzy, dizzy kind of love. You bite back the urge to keep teasing him, to see just how red he can get. God, how can you love this man so much? Every new thing you learn about him, every surprise he somehow pulls out of his sleeve, leaves you slipping further into the ocean of affection you’re already drowning in. The rain is nothing in comparison.
“I guess you’re my knight in shining armor, then,” you sigh wistfully, “Against the wanderers and the cold weather.”
“That’s right.” Rafayel puffs out his chest a little, almost like a preening bird. A giggle escapes your lips, and he gives you one of those heart-stopping smiles. “You should really thank your knight in shining armor, cutie. Otherwise I might not feel so inclined to swoop in to save you next time.”
“Well, thank you, Rafayel.” In the blink of an eye, you reach up and draw his face down to yours, capturing his lips in a chaste, yet searing kiss. The artist jumps back, eyes wide as he stares down at your mischievous grin. “Even though we could have just taken a cab and avoided all of this.”
His shock quickly turns into a pout.
“You’re no fun, cutie.”
---
Xavier *piggyback style*
“Really, I’m fine, Xav-”
You wince as Xavier gently flexes your foot, hot pain prickling up your leg. The hunter gives you a rather disapproving look.
“You do not have to lie to me,” he sighs and lowers your foot back down, “I will not think less of you for being injured.”
Heat creeps up your neck, and you have to tear your eyes away from his soft, unassuming gaze. It really wasn’t that bad. While fighting a wanderer, you had dodged an attack too quickly, somehow, twisting your ankle in the process. You couldn’t just stop fighting though, so you had grit your teeth through the pain until you finished the wanderer off, and then collapsed on a nearby rock. That’s when Xavier had rushed over to you, asking what was wrong.
You attribute your embarrassment to the stubborn bit of pride you carry as a hunter, so used to taking care of yourself that you don’t often let others do it for you.
“I’m really okay, it’s probably just a sprain,” you grumble, “I’ll ice it when I get home.”
“And how exactly do you plan to get home?”
Your nose crinkles. Right. Glancing back at Xavier, you find him looking at you with a small, rather amused smile, eyes sparkling with mirth. The little punk. He really can be mischievous when he wants to, huh?
But you do not have an answer to his question. So you just shrug, letting out a heavy sigh. You’ll just have to rely on him this time it seems.
“Would you like me to carry you?”
Immediately, your blush spreads up your neck, painting your cheeks rosy and warm. Eyes wide, you look at him incredulously.
“Xavier, that’s- I don’t- What?”
“I can carry you.” The hunter tilts his head, much like an adorable puppy. Your heart flutters at the sight. How are you supposed to resist that?
“I mean,” you hesitate, scratching the back of your neck, “if you think that’s the best solution…”
“It’s the simplest one,” Xavier hums, quickly standing up, pulling you carefully to your feet as well.
He turns around, ducking a little so you can get on his back. You hesitate again, though.
“Are you sure?” You ask, voice wavering.
“Positive.” Xavier looks at you over his shoulder. That gentle smile curls his lips again. “Who wouldn’t want to carry a pretty girl on their back?”
God, you hate him sometimes. Shaking your head, you gingerly step closer. You curl your arms tentatively around his shoulders, careful to avoid his neck so you don’t choke him. Then you jump. Xavier catches you with ease, fingers slipping under your thighs to hold you as he stands up straight again. It only takes a moment for him to find his balance as you get comfortable, your chin tucked over his shoulder.
He hardly seems affected by your weight. Like he’s carrying a light backpack. It eases your consciousness a little.
“I always forget just how strong you are,” you mumble.
Xavier holds back a shiver at the way your breath warms his ear. His fingers tighten around your thighs though, thumbs massaging circles into your skin. You hum softly, facing tucking into the collar of his uniform. This is nicer than you thought it’d be.
“You could take a nap until we reach our destination if you’d like.”
“No,” you sigh, though you do feel suddenly exhausted, “That wouldn’t be fair. I want to keep you company.”
“Mm, okay. Then what should we talk about?” Xavier peeks at you, amusement curling in his chest at the thoughtful pout you give.
“How about…what we’ll get for dinner tonight? We did complete the mission, afterall, we deserve a treat.”
A low chuckle escapes the hunter. Tilting his head, he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.
“Whatever you’d like, my star,” he hums, fondness warming his usually calm voice, “Is there something you have in mind?”
“That new diner opened down the block from us, we could try that!” You suggest, excitement lighting up your features, like a kid in front of a christmas tree. You look at him, smile brighter than any star he could compare you to. “What do you think?”
How could he ever resist you?
“Mmm, sounds delicious.”
“Perfect! We’ll go there then!”
You spend the rest of the walk back to the transit station talking about what dishes you might order, what movie to watch as you eat. Anything and everything. Neither of you notice the odd looks you get, too comfortable to care.
You all but forget about the pain in your ankle. Why focus on that when you can focus on the absolutely charming man willing to carry you all this way?
---
Can you tell which characters I main based on this? Just curious.
#love and deepspace reader insert#reader insert#x reader#love and deepspace#lads sylus x reader#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace sylus x reader#sylus x reader#sylus x you#fluff#lads zayne#love and deepspace zayne x reader#love and deepspace zayne#zayne x reader#lads zayne x reader#xavier x reader#lads x reader#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace xavier#lads xavier x reader#lads xavier#love and deepspace xavier x reader#lads rafayel x reader#love and deepspace rafayel x reader#lads rafayel#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x reader#so many tags
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Trouble at the Bachelor Party
“Dude! This is sick!”
“Bro, you’re telling me.” Liam replied, as him and his two friends explored the penthouse.
It was fully decked out. A massive flatscreen in the living room, a fully stocked bar, a beautiful view of the beach. It was everything Liam could’ve wanted. Initially, when his soon to be father-in-law offered his penthouse for the bachelor party, Liam was shocked. Mr. Reynolds often used phrases like “irresponsible”, “waste of time”, and “not good enough for my daughter” when talking about Liam. And he wasn’t afraid to let Liam know too.
“Dude! There’s a flatscreen in each bedroom too!” Chris shouted from down the hall, “Fuck, you were right. This guy’s loaded!”
It was true. Liam was marrying the heiress of a massive tech company. And Mr. Reynonds was certainly loaded. But despite his reassurances that he loved Susie, not their money, the older man viewed him suspiciously. Liam came from a pretty humble background and the world of upper class living wasn’t something he was used to. But perhaps letting them use his penthouse was Mr. Reynolds’s way of showing acceptance.
“Okay boys.” Liam said, “We have a few days here. Let’s make ‘em count.” He tossed Jeremy and Chris each a beer. After a quick toast to what was going to be the most incredible bachelor party on Earth, they downed their beers.
________________
“Lookin’ good.” Liam chuckled as he inspected himself in the mirror, “Can’t believe you’re actually getting hitched.” He flexed his bicep, “Sorry ladies, I’m off the market. Oof, I’ll have to practice that line a bit.” He grinned.
Leaving the bathroom, he found Jeremy sipping a beer on the couch. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of blue swim trunks. His dark brown hair was well styled, and his face clean shaven. He had that boy-next- door look that caused the ladies to swoon.
“Yo Jeremy, what’s up?”
“Not much, just texting Sarah.” He replied, “I forgot to let her know I got here safe and she’s pissed.”
“Oh shit dude.” Liam patted his friend on the back, “I feel for you.” Sarah could be scary when she was angry, but otherwise she was a solid 10. Liam looked forward to the day Jeremy proposed.
“All good.” Jeremy sighed, “Where the fuck is Chris?” Liam shrugged, “He kept me up all fucking night. Fucker must’ve been horny. I’ve never heard anyone moan so loud in my life.”
“Not even Sarah?” Jeremy didn’t seem amused.
“Seriously, we need to get him a girlfriend or something.”
Liam chuckled, “I guess I slept through it.”
“Lucky you.” The door to Chris's room suddenly opened and both men turned.
“Hey boys, sorry to keep you waiting!” The sing songy voice threw them both off, and Liam’s jaw dropped when he saw Chris. His muscles were proudly on display as always. But it was the tight speedo showing off his impressive bulge that shocked him, “Oh, is something wrong?” His voice carried a breathy sultriness, which was unusual for their bro.
“Dude, I’m not one to judge, but don’t you think that’s a bit risqué?” Jeremy asked, raising an eyebrow, “What would Jesus say?” It was well known Chris was religious. In fact, Liam and Chris had met at their college’s church.
Chris shrugged and ran a hand through his curly light brown hair, “Oh this? You like?” He grinned and did a quick pose, “Come on boys, we’re burning daylight!” He said, sauntering towards the door.
________________
The walk to the beach was uncomfortable. Chris walked ahead of his two buddies at an unusually fast pace, his firm ass jiggling with each step. Liam didn’t even know where to begin. What the fuck had gotten into Chris? Usually they’d have to drag him to parties and give him pep talks to boost his confidence. But now? He was certainly turning heads.
“Wait, guys! Did you see that?” Chris asked, turning to his friends and waving excitedly, “That guy over there was totally checking me out!”
“Um, so what?” Jeremy asked, “Why do you care?”
“Do you think I should go after him? He was totally cute. And that ass- just wow.” Liam and Jeremy’s eyes widened, “What?”
“Are you gay?” Liam asked bluntly.
Chris placed a hand to his chin and shrugged, “Like totally! Since like forever probably.”
“Makes sense.” Jeremy said, “Repressed religious guys. It’s a thing.” But Liam was still having a somewhat hard time believing it. Was all their prior bro talk really a lie?
“Oh! He’s getting away!” Chris whined, “I’ll catch up with you later!” He blew them each a kiss and briskly walked over to the man from earlier, leaving Liam shook.
________________
Hours went by without hearing from Chris, and Liam’s mood tanked. Jeremy tried to cheer him up back at the penthouse. Beers and the big game on a flatscreen. Should’ve been perfect. But it wasn’t. Liam knew that Chris being gay shouldn’t matter. Good for him, right?
“Oh my god, that was incredible.” Chris said, gasping as he entered the penthouse, “How are my two besties doing?”
“Would’ve liked you around.” Liam replied, “It’s my bachelor party after all.”
Chris dramatically placed a hand to his sweaty chest, “Sue me for having fun!” His voice cracked and he headed towards his room, “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my room.”
Liam didn’t reply. Sure, Chris is gay. Fine. But acting like a stereotypically fruity drama queen? That didn’t make sense to him. He turned to Jeremy.
“Look, its late and I’m tired. The game sucks anyway.” He said, “I’m off to bed.”
“Same bro. Gotta be up early for our tee time anyway.”
They went to their respective bedrooms. Once there, Jeremy sighed. He hated seeing his friend like this, but what could he do? Talk to Chris maybe? He'd try to salvage this party. But when he finally got comfortable in bed, the TV suddenly turned on. He was greeted by static.
“Weird.” He mumbled. He tried to turn it off with the remote, but failed. Sighing, he got out of bed to turn it off. But as he got closer, he could hear a voice. It was soft, but forceful.
“You are a gay slut. You like to fuck men.”
Jeremy raised an eyebrow, “What the fuck?” He whispered. But the voice only got louder.
“You are a gay slut. Your dick only gets hard for men.” Jeremy felt woozy as the voice reverberated in his head.
“No, I’m straight... I like...” He moaned loudly as the voice drowned out his thoughts. At this point, the screen was flashing various scenes of gay porn and Jeremy’s dick started to swell, “No... fuck...” He breathed out, “I-I... ughhh.” He tried to imagine tits and his nights with Sarah. But these thoughts were instead swapped out with images of juicy, jiggling bubble butts and twerking men.
“You are a dominant top. You only fuck men.”
“I-I’m a gay slut?” Jeremy questioned, “I only like to fuck men?” That didn't sound right. Right? He never...
"You are a dominant top. Twinks are lucky to ride your dick."
His eyes became half lidded and vacant as the words carved his new reality.
“I’m a dominant top. Twinks are lucky to ride this cock." He said confidently, "I am a gay slut.”
Soon, the room filled with his pleasure-filled moans, his new reality taking hold over him.
________________
When Liam entered the living room the next morning, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Jeremy was aggressively caressing Chris’s face, as the two made out on the couch with their erect dicks on full display.
“What the fuck?” Liam gasped as the two men turned towards him.
“Oh Liam! Good morning!” Chris sang, ending his kiss with Jeremy.
“Fuck, just who we were waiting for.” Jeremy commented in a lower, more gravelly voice, “We have something for you.”
“No, this is fucked. What the fuck?” Liam fumed, “What about Sarah? What were you thinking?”
Jeremy shrugged, “I only like fucking men.”
Liam shook his head, “No way, fuck that.” He replied, taking a step back.
“Oh goodness, you’re upset!” Chris whined, “No Liam baby, its okay. Here, watch this.”
Before Liam could say anything, Chris turned on the TV. Static filled his field of vision. But then he heard it. Faint at first, but present nonetheless.
“You are a gay slut.” It said, and Liam grabbed his head.
“What the fuck?” He cursed, stumbling slightly.
The voice was echoing from within his head. Desperately, he moved towards the TV, wanting to shut it off. But Jeremy grabbed his arm firmly and forced him to sit between them. Liam tried to fight back, to get away from his two friends, but he felt so disoriented. The voice continued.
“You are a gay slut. You like taking cock.” It said.
Liam yelped as a needle entered his skin. He looked down to see Chris dump the contents of a syringe into his arm.
“Wh-what was that?” Liam slurred.
“Don’t worry, cutie. Just listen to the voice.” He giggled.
Liam groaned as the voice got louder and louder, “You are a gay slut. A slutty bottom. You love taking cock.”
Liam looked down and watched as his body hair started to disappear. Gone was his light dusting of chest and belly hairs, leaving him smooth. At the same time, the scruff framing his face vanished. He looked over to Jeremy, who smirked at this new development.
“Oh look at that! It’s totally working!” Chris giggled.
“No shit. Reynolds must’ve given us the good stuff.” Jeremy remarked, slowly massaging his cock.
“The good stuff?” Liam slurred, his voice cracking, “Like, what are you talking about?”
“Good because I was getting bored.” Chris sighed, “I mean, Jeremy baby, you’re an expert kisser, but like, I need a hole.” Jeremy nodded in agreement.
“A hole?” Liam whispered.
He let out a pained moan as his body temperature suddenly spiked. Sweat poured from him as his musculature dwindled away. His hard earned muscles atrophied before his terrified eyes. His bulging biceps and triceps became thin and lean, while his juicy pecs rapidly deflated. In a matter of minutes, years of workouts and optimal dieting were undone, leaving Liam slim and fragile.
“Wow, he’s so light now.” Jeremy chuckled as he man-handled his friend onto his lap. Liam yelped at the sensation of Jeremy’s erect cock grinding against his hole.
“Oh and he’s gotten shorter too! What a cutie.” Chris cooed.
“Ah, ass is still bony though.” Jeremy commented, giving it a firm squeeze.
But Liam barely registered any of this. Instead, his thoughts were filled with the words echoing from the TV. His eyes became half-lidded at this point and his resistance was fading.
“You’re just a bottom, a hole to be used by other men. You are a gay slut.” The words continued, “You like being used by other men. Your only pleasure is from getting fucked.”
“I-I’m straight... I like... I like tits.” He knew his voice sounds more feminine somehow and he cringed, “I’m a straight man.” Jeremy and Chris smirked, “I-I...” images of men getting fucked in all kinds of positions flashed on the TV, “Ohhhh I... I... I’m a...” Liam’s handsome face lost its masculine edge and his hair became lighter in color. At the same time, his cock started to shrink. Inch after inch lost as it retracted back, “Noooooo.... not my cock...” He moaned, tears now stinging at his eyes. His manhood, his masculinity. It was being stolen from him. And he was unable to stop it.
“Your only pleasure comes from your ass.”
Liam moaned again and this time his ass started to fill with jiggly fat. He could feel the extra padding build upon itself, his slim cheeks turning into mounds of soft flesh. And as Jeremy squeezed his ass again, pleasure filled his slim frame.
“Much better.” Jeremy remarked, his fingers massaging Liam’s hole, “Fuck, this is gonna feel so good.”
“Mhmm.” Chris replied, grabbing his own fistful of Liam’s juicy ass.
“Ohhhhhhhh yesssssss.” Liam slurred.
“So, what are you?” Jeremy asked.
“I-I’m...” Part of him didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to acknowledge it. But as his lips plumped up into gorgeous cock suckers, and Jeremy’s teasing fingers penetrated him deeper, Liam was drowning in too much pleasure to care, “I...I...” The voice was so loud. It egged him on, beckoned him to admit his new truth. He wanted- no needed- to be like the men on the screen. To be fucked and used by other men. Who was he kidding? He knew what he was, “I’m like a total gay slut! I love cock.” He turned his head to look at Jeremy, then Chris, “Please daddies, use me! I need your cocks!” He begged.
And his new lovers were happy to oblige.
________________
In the afterglow of sex, the three men sat panting heavily on the couch. Liam was curled up between his two lovers, still rubbing their dicks. Despite draining them each multiple times over, he needed more. But his horny thoughts were interrupted by a video call. He grabbed his phone and smiled.
“Hey Mr. Reynolds!” Liam slurred, “Like, we love your penthouse.”
Mr. Reynolds grinned, “I can tell.” His eyes sparkled with satisfaction, “Look at you Liam. My god. You turned out better than expected. The boys at the lab earned their salaries with this one.” Liam nodded along, not really understanding the implication, “How do you feel?”
“Like a total gay slut.” He grinned, “And I love it, like so much, Mr. Reynolds.”
“Well I’m glad to hear.” he chuckled, “And are your friends treating you well?” Liam adjusted the phone so the older man could see his two lovers, who were both fast asleep, “Well looks like you have two very satisfied customers.”
Liam grinned, “Like totally.” A sense of satisfaction filling him, “Oh! Like, can you let Susie know the wedding is off? I’m like, so sorry.”
“Of course, it would be my pleasure. She’ll understand.” Mr. Reynolds replied- mission accomplished, “Now, get back to your party. Enjoy the penthouse for as long as you want.”
Liam’s eyes lit up, “OMG thank you!” The call ended, “Did you hear that?” Liam asked, his two lovers stirring awake.
And so their party continued- and it would for days. Their lives forever changed, and them none the wiser to it. But if their pleasure filled moans were anything to judge by, they certainly weren’t complaining.
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A Knight’s Prize
Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader
Summary: in a tourney to decide her future, Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest daughter must choose a husband. Ser Gwayne Hightower, a charming yet unexpected suitor, captures her attention.
Warnings: i don’t think there is any warning yet but it might contain smut if I write more parts (idk tho)
A/N: this is the first fanfic I have ever written so any criticism as long as it’s respectful will be accepted 🙃 btw english isn’t my first language so some expressions might not make any sense for you guys lol
- Word count: ≈1.1K
As the eldest daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Laenor Velaryon, you carried the Velaryon name with pride. At almost ten and eight years of age, you knew your time had come to marry and strengthen your house. Though your mother felt guilty about marrying you off against your will, she decided to organize a tournament, allowing you the choice in selecting your future lord husband, just like she had wanted when she was younger.
The Red Keep buzzed with anticipation as knights and lords from all over the realm gathered to compete for your hand. Among the spectators sat King Viserys, Queen Alicent, and their children, observing the events unfold. The tension between the blacks and greens was palpable, especially since Alicent had rejected the offer of Princess Rhaenyra of marrying Jacaerys to Helaena, calling her sons ‘plain featured’.
You and your brothers had always noticed the looks and whispers of the highborn lords and ladies each time you walked around the Red Keep. You sometimes resented your mother, not for finding comfort in a lover, as you very much did not care, but for finding a lover with such strong genes.
Your mother approached you as you stood in the balcony of your chambers, overlooking the field. “Are you ready, my daughter?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination.
You nodded, your eyes scanning the assembled knights and lords below. “Yes, mother. I am very excited to marry a lord I will most possibly not be fond of and bear his heirs, for it is my duty to the realm.” You said sarcastically as you looked down sadly.
“See,” Rhaenyra said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I know that you did not ask for any of this, but it is our duty as princesses of the realm to bear heirs for the iron throne”. You looked at her “I know it is, mother. I am just scared” you paused as you took a deep breath “What if he mistreats me?”. You mother chuckled “Then you must let me know and I shall fly to you and make Syrax devour your lord husband”. You both giggled at your mother’s words, you saw her capable of it, she had always been protective of her only daughter.
As the herald announced the beginning of the tournament, you couldn't help but feel a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach. The knights and lords paraded before you, each hoping to catch your eye and win your favor. Your gaze lingered on Ser Gwayne Hightower, the eldest son of Otto Hightower and brother of Queen Alicent. Why was he even here if Alicent had already rejected the opportunity to unite even more your houses? Wasn’t he also defeated by your uncle Daemon in a tourney years ago? It would have been funny to see Otto’s face then, the man he hated the most in the seven kingdoms, knocking his eldest son of his horse. Perhaps his father had sent him, he had always been known as an ambitious man.
The trumpets sounded, signaling the beginning of the tournament. You glanced over at Ser Gwayne, who stood confidently with his head held high. He caught your eye for a moment, and you quickly looked away, feeling a surge of irritation.
As the day wore on, you noticed Ser Gwayne’s victories. His fierce determination and honorable conduct impressed you. He fought with courage, that was both inspiring and captivating. After winning a round against a lord from a minor house you had never heard of, he approached the gallery to ask for your favour.
“Princess, it would be the greatest honor if you would grant me your favor.” He said as he took off his helmet revealing his beautiful blue eyes and charming smile “May your blessing guide me to victory in this tournament for your hand”.
You smiled in amusement “Take this flower crown, Ser Gwayne, and wear it with pride.” You reach for the flower crown resting beside you, it blooms the vibrant colors of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon. “It bears the colors of my house and the faith I have in you”. You lean forward, gently placing the flower crown on Ser Gwayne’s lance.
Ser Gwayne bows once more, his voice filled with gratitude. “I am deeply honored, my lady. With your favor, I shall strive to be worthy of your hand”
During a brief intermission, you found yourself wandering through the gardens of the Red Keep, seeking a moment of respite from the intensity of the tournament. Thinking about how your future was about to be decided by a stupid tourney. It was there were you encountered one of the knights fighting for your hand.
"Princess," he greeted, bowing deeply. "I hope the tourney is to your satisfaction."
You studied him for a moment, noting the easy charm in his smile and the glint of mischief in his eyes. "It is, Ser Gwayne. You fight well and with honor.”
"Thank you, princess," he replied, stepping closer. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to find such beauty amidst the flowers.”
“Ser Gwayne,” you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Shouldn’t you be resting for your next fight?”
“I find the gardens far more refreshing than the company of annoying knights,” - he steps closer “Besides, I couldn’t resist the chance to speak more privately with my future lady wife.” he says confidently.
There’s a playful spark in his eyes that makes your heart race. “You seem very confident, Ser Gwayne. Aren’t you worried about the competition?”
He leans in slightly, “The only competition that matters to me is winning your hand, princess”
You laugh softly, both flattered and intrigued. “Bold words for a knight who hasn’t yet proven himself.”
His gaze becomes more intense, a hint of cockiness in his smile. “Then perhaps I should start proving myself next round.”
Before you can respond, he gently takes your hand, placing a tender kiss on your knuckles. You could feel your cheeks heat up. It wasn’t the first time a knight or a lord kissed your hand, but this time was different, you actually felt something.
As the distant sounds of the tournament begin to echo through the gardens, you know it’s time to return. Ser Gwayne till holds your hand, as if he is reluctant to let go.
“I suppose we must go back,” you say softly.
He nods, as his eyes remain fixed on you. “Duty calls us both, it seems.” he said as he let go of your hand “But know this, Princess. My intentions towards you are sincere, it would be a great honor to marry you”
You give him a small smile, though you doubt his real intentions “Words are easy, Ser Gwayne. Proving them is the true challenge.”
“Then I shall accept your challenge, for you are worth every effort.”
You can’t help but wonder if his charm is genuine or simply a tactic. You recall the reputation of the Hightowers, a family known for their ambitions. Are Ser Gwayne’s intentions truly genuine, or is he merely following his father’s orders, seeking to gain influence through marriage?
You walk back to the main grounds of the tournament, his words echoing in your mind. ‘My intentions are sincere.’ Could it be true? Or is this just another scheme by his father, Otto Hightower, to strengthen their hold on power?
As you take your place, you steal a glance at Ser Gwyn. He catches your eye and offers a reassuring smile, but the seed of doubt has already been planted in your head.
The tournament continues, but your thoughts remain divided. You weigh the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes against the ruthless ambition of his family. Should you trust your heart, which yearns to believe in his genuine affection?
Pt. 2???
P.S. if you guys have any suggestions for part two, to improve my writing or anything you think, please let me know 🫨 Btw just in case you want to know, the lady in the picture at the beginning is Kosem Sultan, played by Beren Saat (there are others) she has great dress inspo if you want them for your DRs or fanfics.
#gwayne hightower#gwayne hightower x reader#hotd season 2#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#gwayne x reader#ser gwayne hightower#gwayne x you#gwayne hightower x you#gwayne fanfic#gwayne hightower fanfic#gwayne hightower x female reader#hotd fanfiction#fanfiction#gwayne imagine
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Not me being an absolute slut for step dad Gojo and Uncle Nanami!?!? 😩 sharing is caring!
-Very Much Embarrassed Anon🫂
PERHAPS i got carried away but i hope u enjoy this !! luxe write something under 1k challenge: impossible x
warnings: 18+ MDNI, step/incest, fem!reader, step dad!gojo, uncle!nanamin, implied virgin!reader, threesome, vaginal sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, tit sucking, possessive!gojo, daddy kink, praise, pull out method, orgasm denial, noncon photo taking, slight oral fixation, hair pulling, face fucking.
words: 2.7k
“You know you’re too young for boys, right?” your step-father reminds you, like it’s a mantra he’s told you again and again for years. It isn’t a suggestion or a thought he’s choosing to share. It’s an instruction. “I don’t want you to think because you’re all grown up and going to college now that you can be reckless.”
“I- I know, Satoru.” you smile at him.
Both of your attention is stolen as you hear your uncle, Kento, laugh out a scoff. He tries to conceal it as he ruffles his newspaper and drinks his coffee. You see your step-dad’s brows furrow in annoyance. Or, anger. He looks at you, again, and his expression softens.
“I know you’re a good girl, sweetheart.” he tells you, wrapping his arms around your form and placing a kiss atop your head. Nanami’s eyes peer over his newspaper, locking with yours. A knowing glance to each other before a smirk finds his features. He raises his newspaper, shielding his face completely as he tries to focus on reading.
He lets you go, reluctantly, as you pick up your college bag and grab your phone.
His expression sours as he sees you reach for your phone, smiling at a text message you received. He shouldn’t pry. He knows he shouldn’t pry. But he can’t seem to stop himself as he finds himself leaning across the kitchen island and snatching your phone from your hands. And now he scoffs, scrolling through your messages and looking at the name at the top.
“What did I just say?” he speaks, only an octave away from yelling at you. Your lip wobbles, and he keeps your phone at arm’s length as you try to grab for it. He tosses it towards the kitchen table so Kento can look for himself.
“He was just asking if I needed picking up for my classes, Satoru! You don’t need to worry…” you tell him. Of course this would happen. He’s always been stupidly over protective.
“Well you don’t, do you? That’s what I’m here for. Hell, I’m sure even Nanami would be happy to take you since he came all of this way to spend his off time visiting you.” Gojo reminds you. And you feel a slight pang of guilt at that. You know how hard your poor uncle Nanamin works. He could be on vacation, somewhere tropical, unwinding from the humdrum of his boring office job. But here he is, sitting reading the newspaper and listening to you two argue with each other. “In fact, you’re grounded. I’m keeping your phone and you can forget about going to class today.”
“But—!”
“Don’t whine, I’ll write you a note.” he adds, walking around the counterspace to collect your phone from Nanami. He finishes scrolling, locking it, though he keeps hold of it. “Go upstairs.”
You huff, but grab your bag and do as you’re told. It’s not like he can stop you from being online. You can talk to people on your laptop, after all. Though given the mood he’s in you suppose you’ll have to be stealthy about it.
“You’re too harsh on her.” Kento tells Satoru, earning another disgruntled glance from him. He closes his newspaper and rests an ankle over his knee as he leans back and drinks the remainder of his coffee. “She’s curious, you can’t do anything about that. It’s not like she’ll stay a virgin forever.”
“Tch. Spare me.” he laughs lightly. “You think I don’t know why you’re here? I hear you, you know, when you sneak into her room at night.”
And Gojo revels in how the colour drains from Nanami’s face. He sits upright, his back stiffened straight and he starts to loosen his tie. He should have known, really, it was too good to be true. He should have known he’d always get caught eventually. But by Satoru Gojo of all people?
“I haven’t…” he clears his throat. “It’s not what you think.”
“Sure.” Satoru rolls his eyes. “If I’m bein’ honest… I don’t really care. Who am I to stop you? I’m not blood… like you. Sick fuck.” he laughs, sitting down at the table and looking into Nanami’s panic-stricken eyes.
Your uncle rests his elbows on the table and holds his head in his hands. What is Gojo plotting? Blackmail of some kind, maybe. It’s not like he’s concealed his disapproval for his sisters relationship with him. He’s tolerated him, sure, but he’s a nuisance he thinks his family would be better off without.
“I don’t like this either.” he throws your phone towards the white-haired man and sighs. “But she doesn’t respect you, Satoru. She doesn’t even call you dad. I think she sees you as temporary, so of course she isn’t going to listen to you. Not really.”
“But…” he leans over the table with a smug grin. “She respects you, doesn’t she? Her favourite uncle. I don’t like college guys, I remember what we were like in college, I don’t want her around that.”
“No… maybe she won’t go searching for it if she’s better educated.”
Gojo’s brow quirks in intrigue, a sadistic smile soon follows.
“Who knew a corporate goon could be such a sick fuck, hah?” Gojo laughs, picking up Nanami’s coffee mug for him and walking it to the sink to clean. Nanami rolls his eyes, burying his reddening face in his newspaper again.
You feel a surge of fear stab through you as you hear footsteps climb up the stairs. You hide your laptop back into your bag and turn on your TV, hurrying to find something to watch as a cover. But when you hear a knock, you relax, Satoru never knocks.
“Come in!” you speak, happily, welcoming your favourite and only uncle Nanamin into your room. Though your heart sinks as your step-father follows, crossing your arms across your chest as you huff and pout petulantly.
“Don’t be like that…” Nanami speaks softly, sitting on the edge of your bed and resting his hand on your thigh. “We need to talk to you. And we want to ask you something.” he continues. Your pout fades, then, a slight feeling of anxiety creeps into you as you wonder if something serious has happened.
And Satoru sits on the edge of the bed, too, his beaming blue eyes almost pierce through your heart as he begins to explain. How he’s just worried about you because he knows from experience how college guys can be. How he’s your dad no matter what and he just wants the best for you. And he thinks you need a little help in the right direction on your journey of self-discovery.
“I know you’re a woman now, sweetheart, but you’re still daddy’s little girl. Yeah? So, let daddy help.”
“He- with what?” you blink at him, dumbly, and the delighted snarl on his face almost chills you to the bone. He doesn’t speak right away, so you look at Nanami. But it’s like he can’t bear to look at you as he sinks his head low with shame. “With what?” you ask again.
“Well, Nanami said you’re curious. So he’s been fucking you, right?”
“No!” you and your uncle yell simultaneously. Did he really tell your insufferable step-father something so personal?
“I told you, I haven’t slept with her. Don’t tease her or you’ll make things worse.” Nanami clarifies before he focuses his attention on you. “But you are curious, aren’t you? You’re getting attention from boys and you’re enjoying it, clearly. They aren’t good for you though, princess. They don’t know how to treat girls right.”
You hum, softly, as he pushes your legs apart, revealing your pink cotton panties to the two of them as they continue to talk you through their thought process. And the touch of your uncle Nanamin is your ultimate weakness. They both get a live response to his action as your pretty pussy starts to gift your panties with a dark, sticky patch between your dewy folds.
“Boys that age, sweetheart, they don’t know what they’re doing. Do you touch yourself? ‘m sure you do, I’m not naïve enough to think otherwise. But that means you like to cum, yeah? These college guys don’t care about that. They just want a little hole to cum in and defile. And we think you deserve better than that.” Satoru explains, his inquisitive fingers begin to prod at your puffy cunt, though you trap his hand between your plush thighs.
“Satoru…” you respond, bashfully.
“No.” he speaks, grabbing your thighs and pulling you down the bed and towards himself. He looks mad, but there’s no real malice behind it. Still your heart is pounding. “I’m your dad like he is your uncle. I’m not Satoru. Who am I?” he asks, reaching under your skirt to pull down your panties.
“D-Daddy… you’re daddy. ‘m sorry.” you whimper. Your eyes flutter as his long fingers invade your pretty, virgin walls. “Hng—!”
“Gooood girl.” he smiles as he begins to curl them upwards. “I slipped right on in, has uncle Kento gotten you used to taking his fingers?”
“Mhmm…” you blush. The man in question bends down to kiss you.
It’s sweet, though you find yourself grabby and desperate as you follow his lead. He pulls away to undress you, unbuttoning your shirt and then his own after throwing away his tie. He helps you out of your bra, and you instinctively go to cover your nipples as you remember who you’re actually in the company of. But Nanami doesn’t want that. He locks his fingers with yours, holding your hands above your head as he begins to suckle on them until they’re both puckered and raw.
“Sit her up, and sit behind her.” Satoru tells his brother-in-law. And of course he acquiesces. You’re moved like you’re weightless as your uncle sits behind you, his clothed cock pressing angrily into the curve of your spine as he continues to torment your tits. Satoru pulls his fingers out of your cunt and sucks them clean, smiling at how your eyes begin to sparkle with wonder as he puts on such a display. “Do not tell your mother about this, understand?”
You nod, obediently. You wouldn’t dream of telling her something so scandalous. Though it does fill you with a slight sense of pride as your Satoru makes it abundantly clear how desperately he’d longed to be the first person to explore your untouched core. He pulls down his trousers and you moan at his smooth, pink cockhead. Though right now it’s closer to an angry shade of red.
He really is desperate.
You wince, slightly, as he pushes his tip inside. Though he retracts it, coating his head in your wetness.
“Fuuuuck, you weren’t lyin’. You really never fucked her, huh Nanami?” Gojo chuckles as he pushes in deeper and deeper. Nanami slots his fingers into your mouth to suck on as you accommodate to the length. “Relax, baby. Clampin’ so much you’re gonna push me out.” he laughs shallowly, his thrusts matching as he begins to work you open.
“D-Daddy!” you gasp, back arching against Nanami’s chest before he pulls you back towards him.
“We’re so proud of you, princess.” Nanami shushes you, placing a kiss to your temple. You look at him with wide, trusting eyes, though he can’t really concentrate as his own fixate on the way your tits bounce with each thrust Gojo inflicts onto you. “Why don’t you show your dad how I taught you to suck cock, hm?”
“Oh? Now that I’d like to see.” Gojo smiles, pulling out of you briefly. The sound of your sticky walls echoes through the room as he pulls out. The men help you onto all fours, and your daddy slots himself right back into your tight heat. The adjusted angle makes you fall forward, your head lolling as he finds a nice little trigger inside of you. “Oh… there, huh? Okay, baby. I’ll fuck you right there.” Satoru tells you as he begins to fuck into you before slowing down.
Nanami takes his cock out of his briefs, tapping the tip against your swollen lips. They open, obediently, and you lick the precum he’s spilling directly from the source. Your hole flutters as he hisses, enamoured by the sensation.
“Perfect, princess. Such a good little girl for me.” Kento comments, and your heart beats harder. You’re almost robbed of all sense as Gojo pistons his hips into you, and he leans forward to grab your hair and wrap it into a makeshift ponytail.
“Now that I’m thinking about it, Kento, maybe we should teach her how college boys fuck. Since she wanted that experience so badly.” Satoru proposes, and Nanami considers it. He really considers it. And Gojo chuckles at that. “Go on… show her.”
Nanami nods, grabbing the sides of your head and fucking your face like you’re his own personal cocksleeve.
It’s relentless and dizzying and you don’t know how to settle. You can’t possibly as you’re ruined from both ends. There’s no reprieve, there’s no way to relax. You’re trembling and moaning and fuck you never knew sex could be so intense. Nanami is always calm and patient with you. But this isn’t that.
They’ve ran out of patience with you.
It doesn’t matter which way you try to retreat, you’re only encouraging the other one. More of Nanami’s cock down your throat and more of Gojo’s hitting your g-spot.
“W-We’ll have to get you on the pill, sweetheart.” Gojo tells you, but it’s more like he’s telling himself. He knows he can’t cum inside. He can’t, but fuck, he wants to. He fucking needs to. “College guys, they like- leaving their- mark.” he thrusts again and again until he’s on the very brink of blowing his load. But his life won’t be worth living if he knocks his cute little daughter up. His marriage will be over. He’ll lose everything.
And with that, he pulls out and coats your pussy lips with his sperm. The loss of feeling from inside makes you cry out around Nanami’s length, though you still can’t pull away from him as he continues to use your mouth as his own personal toy. You never knew your uncle Nanamin had this side to him.
He’s usually so sweet and patient.
He pulls out, too, depriving you of the taste of his cum and the chance to prove what a good girl you are. Though you take his load beautifully as he shoots soupy ropes across your pretty face. His heart skips a beat as your false lashes flutter and he realises a heavy glob stuck to them.
“College guys, sweetheart, might take pictures of you like this.” Satoru pulls his phone from his back pocket and takes a few photos of your quivering cunt. You’ve been neglected in the worst way, and it’s dawning on you now what he had meant by giving you the college experience. He tosses his phone to Nanami, encouraging him to do the same. Your innocent and betrayed face is captured so perfectly through the lens of the phone, Nanami’s pearly seed is the perfect colour for your complexion.
“College guys would send these around to their friends too, you know.” Nanami warns you.
“But we’ll just keep these between ourselves.” Satoru promises you. “I think it’s only fair we didn’t let you cum this time since you were so intent on disobeying your daddy.”
“I think she’s learnt her lesson, though, Satoru.” Nanami speaks, pulling your hair so that you can look up at him and he can identify if you dare to lie to him. “Fucking college boys doesn’t sound that fun anymore, does it? Say sorry, princess. Your dad might let you cum next time if you’re a good girl.”
You sniff, and hiccup, unsure of where to look.
“’m s-sorry, daddy.” you sniffle, Nanami releases your hair and allows you to look back at Gojo, a wild grin on his face.
“Awe… sweet.” Gojo smiles, circling the bed so he’s standing beside Nanami, both of their eyes bore down at you with an intensity you’ve never felt before. “I think we’re owed a thank you, we took the time to teach you such an important lesson, after all.”
“T-Thank you,” you sniff, again, “Thank you, d-daddy. Thank you, uncle Nanamin.”
© 2023 rinitxshi
#💌 — luxe mail#📨 — requests#Very Much embarrassed Anon 🫂#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento smut#kento nanami smut#nanami kento#kento nanami#uncle nanamin#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo#tw:incest#tw stepcest#tw possessiveness#tw daddy kink#tw praise#tw hair pulling
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You Drew Stars Around My Scars
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader meet one day and the connection is instantaneous. Azriel becomes worried though, when Reader starts showing up late to their dates more consistently. When the truth comes out, they need to figure out how to keep moving forward.
Based on this request! Thank you for sending it in, I hope you like it! 🩷
Word Count: 3.8k
The market was bustling today and Azriel cringed slightly, pulling his wings in even tighter behind him. He had no idea why Amren had insisted that he be the one to pick up the items she needed for her new project. Perhaps because she knew that he would be the least likely to complain.
He was approaching the stall that carried what Amren needed when his gaze snagged on someone at a neighboring one and he stopped dead in his tracks, causing the people around him to curse and move around him, irritated.
Azriel barely heard it though, his attention fully on you. You had a simple dress on, but it accentuated your curves beautifully, your hair was loose, falling down your back in ringlets. The way you moved was graceful as you picked up an item to inspect.
But your smile as you talked to the owner of the stall, the way it lit up your face with such kindness… that is what made Azriel’s knees feel like they were about to give out.
He longed to approach you, but by the time that he had come to his senses enough to start moving, you too had moved, working your way through the market. It was so crowded that he lost track of you.
Crestfallen, he went back to the stall and got the supplies for Amren.
---
Days later, Azriel still could not get you out of his mind. That damn smile haunted his dreams and his every waking moment.
So much so, that at the earliest opportunity, he went back to the market, his eyes raking the crowd for any sign of you. He seriously contemplated flying up to a rooftop for a better angle, but that would probably be frowned upon.
He perused the market, feeling a bit foolish. The Night Court’s spymaster, reduced to wandering around the market on his day off like a lost puppy in hopes of finding a woman he didn’t even know.
His spirits lifted dramatically though, when he saw you. You were perusing a stall, inspecting a jar with a shiny liquid inside.
Azriel didn’t let himself hesitate this time, dodging people milling about as he strode for you. Eventually, he appeared at your side, and you looked up at him, so surprised to suddenly see a large, looming male next to you, that you dropped the jar that you were holding.
Smoothly, he caught it before it hit the ground and offered it to you. Your eyes sparked with recognition as you studied him: the wings, the Illyrian clothing, the shadows twirling around his biceps.
Your fingers brushed his as you took the jar back from him and you murmured, “Thank you.”
He nodded, offering you a faint smile, not sure what to say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.
“You’re the High Lord’s shadowsinger,” you said, looking up at him, sounding a little breathless.
“I am. But most people just call me Azriel,” he said, a note of humor edging his voice.
That smile you had offered the others before was now turned on him, and he felt as if the ground was swaying underneath him. You offered him your name, before saying, “I feel a bit like I’m meeting a celebrity.”
Azriel could feel slight heat in his cheeks, and tried to maintain the neutral expression he nearly always wore. He waved his hand dismissively, “Trust me, I’m not. Cassian is more of the celebrity. I mostly blend into the shadows.”
You tilted your head, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, studying the hard line of his jaw, his hazel eyes, the curve of his mouth. “That’s a shame,” you said, a little wistfully.
Azriel’s heart was thundering now. “Do you want to get dinner?”
Your smile widened. “I think I can make that happen. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed.
You picked the restaurant and the time, and just like that, Azriel had a date.
---
The date was, in his opinion, nothing short of amazing.
He had arrived a bit early to dinner, and you waltzed up to the restaurant exactly on time, looking like a vision. Part of your hair was braided around your head like a crown, but part was still flowing down over your shoulders, curled. Your dress hugged the curve of your waist, the hem landing midway down your shin, perfect for the summer.
You beamed as you approached him, and Azriel had to concentrate to keep his breathing steady. The two of you were seated outside, watching the sun set over the river.
The conversation was easy. You kept it light and playful, grazing your hand against his bicep every once in a while when you laughed, the sound bright and beautiful.
Flirting, he realized. You were flirting with him. Laughing with him. Making him laugh.
Mother, when was the last time he had felt like this?
Had he ever felt like this?
After dinner ended, you stood up and gently took his hand in yours, tugging lightly so he stood up too, towering over you. “Do you want to take a walk?” you asked, your eyes sparkling under the stars that were out by then.
“Lead the way,” he said, one side of his mouth turning up into a smile.
You led him to the artists’ quarter, the lights vibrant against the night. He watched as your eyes lit up at the site, marveling at all the artwork, the people milling about.
“Oh, look!” you exclaimed, excitedly pulling him to a painting of the mountains surrounding Velaris. “It’s beautiful,” you told the painter, who nodded in thanks, smiling.
Azriel couldn’t help but stare as you took in the painting, your eyes alight.
“Are you a painter?” he asked.
“I try to be,” you grinned at him. “I’m not very good.”
Before he could respond, another painting caught your eye and you gasped, tugging on his hand, leading him through the crowd. Azriel laughed, and you turned back to smile at him, your whole face lighting up. His heart swelled.
On and on you went, his lifeboat pulling him through the sea of artists. He could have gone on like that forever, he thought.
You were about to pull him to another painting when you suddenly turned to him, flushed. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I?”
Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.”
You smiled, seeming shy all of a sudden. “It’s late,” you said. “I should probably head back.”
“Can I walk you home?”
Your smile grew and you nodded your head for him to follow. Your arms brushed as you walked, taking in the night air.
It was a short walk to your house, and you stopped before the door and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Azriel. Tonight was… amazing.”
Azriel couldn’t help but smile back at you. “It was.”
You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly before turning to the door, and Azriel said your name, stopping you before you could open it. “Can I see you again?”
You beamed. “Meet me by the Rainbow in two days?”
Smirking, Azriel said, “Absolutely.”
---
Azriel could hardly focus on anything else while he waited to see you again. His friends absolutely knew something was up with him, but did not pester him about it. Yet.
Two days after the initial date, Azriel was waiting in the Rainbow, where you had told him you wanted to meet.
He waited. And waited.
Trying to stomp down his growing anxiety that you wouldn’t show, he gazed at the art around him. You had been right on time to your first date. Had you changed your mind about him?
He was about to walk through the artists’ quarter, wondering if he had not remembered correctly where you wanted to meet, when you finally arrived, your cheeks flushed, but you looked beautiful as ever.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, a little breathless. “Something came up -- it’s hard to explain. I swear I tried to be on time.”
Azriel was just glad that you had come. “It’s alright,” he smiled reassuringly.
Your eyes twinkled under the stars, relieved. “Thank you.”
His smile widened and he lightly squeezed your upper arm, trying to soothe you.
You smiled slowly and arched an eyebrow, mischief written all over your face. “So, I had an idea.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
Laughing, you said, “Let’s go dancing.”
Azriel’s smile dropped. You laughed even more. “Dancing,” he repeated.
“Dancing,” you grinned.
“I can’t dance.”
“Oh, please. Everyone can dance.”
“Not me,” Azriel said, smiling despite himself.
“Please,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him and looking up at him from under her lashes. “For me?”
Azriel sighed, raking a hand through his hair. You knew you already had him wrapped around his little finger. “Fine.”
You squealed with delight, taking his hand in yours and walking in the direction of the Velaris night clubs. Azriel tried to focus on the positives: your soft hand in his, how happy you were, how your hair bounced as you walked.
By the time you got to the nightclub, Azriel’s felt like his heart was in his throat. He really did not dance.
But you strode right in, glancing back at him with the biggest smile on your face. You led him right into the middle of the crowd of people pulsing with the music.
He stood still and watched as you moved your hips, your arms up above your head, twirling around like you didn’t have a care in the world. I could easily fall in love with this woman, he thought. Easily.
You turned back to him and laughed brightly, placing your hands on his hips, trying to make them move. He didn’t budge, which made you laugh even more. “Come on, shadowsinger. Live a little!”
He wanted to, if only to make you happy, but he couldn’t focus on anything but your hands on him and that smile that knocked the breath out of his lungs.
Studying him for a moment, you said over the music, “Okay, I see we need to try a different tactic,” you said, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the edge of the dance floor, where it was less crowded.
You stepped right up to him then, so your bodies were barely an inch away. You took both of his hands and settled them on your hips, then placed your hands on his shoulders.
“Don’t think so much, just move,” you said, your voice light and teasing.
He towered over you, watching as you moved your hips, lightly pushing and pulling on his shoulders so he would move with you. It took nearly a full song, but eventually his body relaxed, letting himself be guided by you.
“There you go,” you grinned.
Suddenly, the song slowed significantly, and you looked up at him, becoming slightly shy again.
He gazed down at you, smiling faintly as he pulled you in closer to him, keeping one hand at your waist and taking one of your hands in his.
Azriel swore he saw your breath catch as you studied his face, eyes slightly wide. Azriel tightened his grip on you slightly when your eyes dipped to his mouth and lingered there.
Holding his breath, he leaned in slowly, stopping a breath away from your lips, giving you a moment to back up if you wanted to. But, you surged forward, connecting your mouth with his.
He smiled into the kiss, bringing a scarred hand up to gently cup your cheek.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, and as the music swelled to a crescendo, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You gasped into his mouth, bending your knees as he held you in the air.
Gently, he set you down a few moments later, and when he pulled back, you were smiling, your cheeks dusted red.
“That might have been the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me,” you said, your tone teasing, but your eyes alight.
“Me too,” Azriel murmured, unable to tear his gaze away from your beautiful face.
The two of you spent hours together, and Azriel found himself unable to keep his hands off you. You seemed the same way, always placing a hand on his arm, on his shoulder, while he rested his hand on your hips, the small of your back, or held your hand in his.
For hours, he watched you dance, and willed his body to move with you, only because your eyes shined, your smile bright, when he did so.
At the end of the night, he walked you home once again, this time pulling you in by the waist and kissing you until you were breathless, twining his hand into your soft hair, your hands on his face.
---
Weeks passed, and the two of you kept meeting as often as your schedules would allow.
Azriel would have been on cloud nine… except that he was starting to have his doubts. When the two of you were together, it was amazing, a connection and energy that he had never felt with anybody before. In the privacy of his own mind, he was even willing to concede that he had absolutely fallen for you.
But he couldn’t pretend that everything was perfect. You had been late to nearly every date. He would always be unnerved waiting for you, thinking that this would be the time that you would leave him hanging, never to be heard from again. But then, you would come, always breathless, like you had rushed to get there, and would apologize profusely, but never giving an explanation. Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if you were not as interested in him as he was in you.
He considered talking to Cassian or Rhys about it, but had a suspicion that they would not be very helpful.
So eventually, he decided just to talk to you about it. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to keep seeing him if you didn’t want to.
There was clearly movement in your house as he approached. He took a deep breath before knocking.
Your eyes were wide in surprise, but not unhappy, when you opened the door. “Azriel,” you smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, quietly.
You opened your mouth to respond, but before anything could come out, a little boy, a toddler came running to the door, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Azriel hulking in the doorway.
The boy gaped at Azriel, his mouth hanging open in shock, before turning to you, “Mom! That’s the shadowsinger!” he squealed, running up to said shadowsinger and wrapping his tiny arms around Azriel’s legs, his head not even meeting Azriel’s knees. The boy looked up at Azriel in awe, “you are so cool.”
Azriel’s head spun, trying to process the information in front of him, but he couldn’t focus over the feeling of his heart absolutely melting as he gazed at this boy, full of such joy. He patted the boy’s back, smiling. “You think so?”
He nodded vigorously, his curly hair that matched his mother’s flicking over his eyes. “I wish I could be a spy.”
Azriel grinned. “I can teach you, if your mom says it’s okay.”
The boy gasped, and Azriel looked at you for the first time since your son had made himself known. You looked like you were about to cry, your hands clasped in front of you. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not.
“Honey, why don’t you go play for a little bit?” you said, your voice slightly shaky, steering your son into the other room. “Mom has to talk to Mr. Shadowsinger about grownup stuff for a little bit.”
He pouted a bit, but did as he was told, reluctantly untangling himself from Azriel and toddling into the next room.
You sighed when you were alone with Azriel, searching his face.
“This is why you’ve been late,” Azriel said, his voice thick with emotion.
You nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Azriel took your hand in his, trying to ground himself. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Your eyes filled with tears, and Azriel’s heart cracked. “Most males aren’t interested in raising someone else’s kid. And I liked you… I was too scared to lose you.”
There was no breath in Azriel’s lungs. He ached for you, for what you had no doubt been through with other males who you tried to date. He wanted to rip them to shreds. Slowly, he leaned down, gently kissing each tear away.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not unless you want me to.”
You sniffed, looking up at him through damp lashes. “I don’t want you to.”
Azriel smiled softly. “Good,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.
You stayed like that for a while, holding each other, before he asked, “What’s his name?”
“Jax.”
“Do you think Jax has it in him to be a spymaster?”
You laughed against his chest, and Azriel smiled into your hair. “I think he can be whatever he wants to be.”
He pulled back to look at you, tilting his face down to meet your eye. “Do you want me in his life? If it’s too soon, that’s okay. But I would love to get to know him, eventually.”
That beautiful smile shone on your face as you said, “I would love that.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Azriel taught Jax how to be a spy. They ran around the house, ducking behind furniture, following invisible enemies.
Azriel glanced at you periodically, reveling in the bright smile on your face, your eyes shining.
---
Jax became an important fixture in Azriel’s life, often accompanying your dates around Velaris. One day, Azriel had recruited Feyre to help get you all into a painting class for all ages.
You grinned as Azriel led you and Jax into the studio set up with paints and easels. There were a few other families there, setting up their work stations.
“Azriel, will you make a painting with me?” Jax asked, his green eyes wide as he looked up at Az.
“Are you sure you don’t want to make your own?” Azriel asked.
Jax nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, taking Azriel’s hand and leading him to the paint station to pick out colors. Jax chose color after color, handing them all to Azriel, who was grinning, trying to keep hold of all the paints.
You beamed, your heart full as you watched your son and Azriel together, laughing as they painted together. The easel was set up for Jax to reach it, so Az was sitting on the floor in order to reach it whenever Jax demanded that he contribute to their painting.
Azriel was smiling and laughing with the boy, adding in elementary looking trees and bushes wherever Jax instructed him.
By the end, they had a painting that looked very much like a toddler made it. It was nearly impossible to tell who had painted what: Jax or Azriel.
You laughed as Azriel showed it off to you with a flourish, Jax excitedly bouncing on his toes. “Mom, can we hang this up at home?”
“Of course we can,” you grinned, your heart swelling at Azriel’s soft, loving smile.
Azriel came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at your painting while Jax was busy admiring his own painting.
“I thought you said you weren’t very good,” Azriel murmured, his heart swelling as he took in the painting that you had created.
It was of that day, of Azriel and Jax painting together. Jax happily paints while Azriel sits on the floor, grinning at him, holding the palette of paint up for Jax to use.
“Do you like it?” you said quietly.
“I love it,” he said, nuzzling your neck. “I love you.”
He felt you stiffen beneath his fingers and froze. He had just realized that was the first time he had told you.
You twisted in his arms, turning to face him, your eyes shining. “I love you too, Az.”
Azriel’s knees nearly buckled with relief. He gave you a quick, sweet kiss, wishing he wasn’t in public.
---
By Starfall, the three of you were really starting to feel like a family, and Azriel had never been happier. Cassian and Rhys teased him about it relentlessly, but he knew it was because they were happy for their brother who had finally found happiness like they had.
Azriel kept by your side, his hand on the small of your back as you navigated the crowded balcony on the House of Wind, Jax holding onto your hand.
The three of you had spent the beginning of the celebration with the rest of Azriel’s family, and even though they had met before, Jax remained completely enamored with Feyre, Rhysand and Cassian, asking them a million questions about being the High Lady, High Lord, and the commander of armies, respectfully. The three just laughed, going along with it until Azriel deemed it was time to give his brothers and his High Lady a break.
The three of you stood together, holding hands, looking to the sky as the music started and the spirits started to move across the sky, slowly at first, and then thousands of them, shooting across the world like shooting stars.
Jax watched awestruck for a few minutes before he noticed that there were children playing a game on the far side of the balcony, and he looked to you excitedly, running over to them after you had nodded.
“Stay where we can see you!” Azriel called after him.
You turned to Azriel, hugging his waist, gazing up into his eyes lovingly.
“What?” Azriel smiled, sliding his hand down your back, making you shiver.
“I’ve just never been this happy,” you murmured.
“I haven’t either,” Azriel said softly, leaning down to kiss you.
Azriel pulled your body into his then, leading you into a slow, romantic dance underneath the falling stars.
“Happy Starfall,” he said, gazing down at you with all the love in the world.
“Happy Starfall, Az,” you said.
#acotar one shot#acotar fic#acotar x reader#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel fluff#azriel one shot#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#azriel fic#request
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Clouded | Part One
Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: blood and injury. mentions of torture. beron in general.
Summary: Y/N works as a servant in the Forest House when an unfortunate encounter with Eris leaves her without her job with no valid reason. When she is at her small house, Eris shows up covered in blood. Truths Y/N has wanted to know for years come to light.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
Part One | Part Two
•••
Y/N tried to carry herself with as much grace as she could muster. At least if she looked like she belonged, people would respect her more. Her servant clothes were ratty and torn, Beron had no care in the world to use his money to supply the servants who weren’t typically seen around the Forest House in a lavish uniform. The only reason Y/N was walking around the house was because her friend had gotten sick so Y/N took on her duties as well as her own.
The hall was empty when Y/N entered it. No voices were to be heard so Y/N relaxed her shoulders. All she needed to do was get to Beron’s personal kitchens and collect all of the pots and pans to be swapped out with new ones. The only thing Y/N wanted to avoid on her way there was—
She collided with a firm chest and before Y/N knew it, she crashed to the floor, knocking all of the air out of her.
“Of course it would be you I run into,” a voice sneered.
Y/N finally looked at the person she collided with and her worry turned into anger. “Out of everyone, why have I been cursed to see your face this early in the morning.”
Eris rolled his eyes. “What are you doing in this part of the house? The last I heard you work four floors below where no one is witness to your unsightly appearance.”
“I am doing my friend's work while she is sick,” Y/N answered. “I guess it is a foreign concept to you. Both work and friends.”
Eris offered a sarcastic smile in return. “I see your comebacks have changed.”
“I see you have changed, for the worse,” Y/N muttered.
Y/N remembered centuries ago when she once considered Eris a friend— perhaps even more. She thought he was the most amazing person ever. What a huge misjudge of character.
Y/N held out her hand. “The least you can do is help me up.”
Eris looked around the hallway for a brief moment. Y/N sighed. Of course he would look before being caught touching a simple servant girl.
The moment their hands touched, Y/N gripped onto Eris’s hand tightly before pulling harshly. The heir of the Autumn Court was swept off his feet and came tumbling to the ground.
Y/N only intended for him to fall down next to her— not on top of her. Eris’s elbows were braced on either side of Y/N’s head as he saved himself from his entire weight pressing on top of her. His body was perfectly slotted between her thighs. His face hovered over hers, so close she could feel his breath brush her face like a gentle caress.
Y/N met Eris’s eyes and her heart skipped a beat. She had forgotten how beautiful the colour of his eyes were.
“Y/N, I—“
Footsteps echoed down the hallway and Eris rushed to get up from Y/N. The moment he was on his feet and straightening his jacket, Beron walked around the corner.
Eris looked down at Y/N, a scowl on his face. “Don’t ever touch me again.”
Beron cleared his throat. “Eris, is this vermin bothering you?”
“No,” Eris said quickly. “She isn’t.”
“But, you mentioned—“
“I will escort her out, Father,” Eris said and gripped Y/N’s upper arm.
Before Y/N could say anything, Eris dragged her down the hallway and out of sight. Once Y/N was sure they were alone, Y/N pulled her arm from Eris’s grip.
“Eris, get off me!” Y/N exclaimed. “I need to get back and do my job.”
Eris only gripped her arm once more and pulled her into a small storage room. He pressed his back against the door.
“Eris,” Y/N said. “I need to get back to work.”
“No you’re not, Y/N,” Eris said. “You are leaving.”
Y/N scoffed. “I am not leaving. If this is just for pulling you down to the floor and harming your ego—“
“It isn’t about that, Y/N!” Eris snapped. “But you are leaving and never coming back here again. If I ever see you in this house ever again, I will banish you from this court myself.”
Y/N’s heart dropped. “Eris…”
“Go, Y/N,” Eris said. “I don’t want to ever see you again.”
Eris opened the door and gestured for her to step out. Y/N followed, her gaze cast down to the floor.
“I am sorry, Eris,” Y/N muttered. “But I need to keep this job. I cannot afford my house without it.”
“That is not my problem, Y/N,” Eris replied, straightening his jacket once more.
“Please, Eris,” Y/N begged. “Out of everyone in this house, you are the one who knows of my situation.”
There seemed to be a flash of regret across Eris’s face but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a sneer. “Y/N, I do not care about your situation. If your father were any smarter then he wouldn’t have gotten himself in debt before he passed, leaving you to pay it all off.”
Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears. “I hate you, Eris Vanserra.”
“I hear that a lot,” Eris said, looking away from Y/N. “It doesn’t sound any different when you say it. Leave, Y/N, before I need to force you.”
Eris sauntered down the hall, leaving Y/N alone in the centre of the grand hall, tears falling down her cheeks.
***
The following day, Y/N spent hours looking for jobs in the nearest village. Conveniently no one was hiring. The moment she was home, Y/N spilled out all of her savings onto her bed. Although she had already paid over half of her father’s debt, she still had a long way to go. Paying only half had taken her nearly a century with the wage she was on.
Y/N sighed and slumped down into the small tattered armchair. She loved her father dearly, she always had and she grieved him more than she cared to admit. But she hated him sometimes. She hated him for leaving her with the burden of his debts.
Before she and her father were cast out in the Autumn Court, her father was well respected amongst the nobles and often spent his time with Beron and his other advisors. He often brought Y/N along and it was there she first met Eris. The heir was an only child at the time so was often bored of playing on his own. It didn’t take them long to form a friendship. They were attached at the hip…until the long awaited consequences of her fathers debts caught up to him.
Beron offered her father a job in the house to earn money to pay his debts, probably the only kindness Y/N saw the High Lord give at the time. Only it wasn’t a kindness at all, it was simply a death sentence. Beron was well aware of her fathers debts amongst the other nobles and allowed him to fight in his army, completely untrained and unarmed– leaving Y/N completely alone.
At first she thought she could rely on Eris and she could, until his brother came alone when they were twenty. It was as if a switch flipped within Eris. He went from Y/N’s best friend to someone she hated and despised. He was cruel and cold, despite the fire coursing through his veins. Y/N hated that she still saw him occasionally around the Forest House…well, that wouldn’t be a problem now.
Y/N tried not to cry as she looked at the money on the bed. She barely had enough to pay for her food for the week. There were times where Y/N debated running away, she debated leaving Prythian completely, somewhere where Autumn had no ties. She could start a new life– a happier one.
But something always pulled her back. Y/N didn’t know what but she needed to find out.
A loud thump echoed through her small house. Y/N stilled and didn’t move. What if it was someone trying to claim their money now that they knew she wasn’t protected by the walls of the Forest House? What if they weren’t there for money at all?
Another loud thump, this time more desperate.
Y/N carefully slid her dagger out from its hiding place and slowly walked to her front door.
Another thump more desperate than the last.
“Y/N…” Eris’s voice weakly called out. “Please…let me in.”
Y/N walked faster over to her front door and opened it with a scowl.
Her dagger clattered to the floor.
She let out a gasp.
Eris collapsed into her arms.
***
Y/N panicked as she rushed around Eris to clean up all of the blood covering his body. And from the scent of it, every single drop was his. The rise and fall of his chest was shallow as she cut away his white shirt. Well she assumed it was originally white.
His pale torso was coated with a layer of blood, some had dried but most of it seemed fresh. The deeper wounds still bled freely.
Y/N wasn’t sure what to do. She could only heal small wounds and gashes, that was only what her father had taught her. This was extreme but they were too far away from a proper healer. By the time they got there, Eris would be dead.
“Come on, Y/N,” she muttered to herself. “You can do this.”
She worked on stopping the blood flow from the large open gash in his side. She wiped away all of the dried blood surrounding the area. The gash wasn’t as large as she originally thought but it was deep– too deep for her to deal with.
Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes. Not only would she be an outcast from the village because of the debt she owed but now she would be an outcast because she let the heir to the court die.
“Eris,” Y/N whispered. “Please stay with me. Don’t you dare die on me. Not today.”
***
Most of the larger wounds on Eris’s body were cleaned and were slowly beginning to heal. The smaller cuts and bruises were only faintly there now. Y/N’s hands were still stained red from Eris’s blood. She hadn’t moved from her position on her coffee table since she finished sewing up the gaping wound in his side. Y/N was sure she had never been so scared in her life. What would have happened if she wasn’t able to help Eris? There were instances where she was sure he was going to die right there on her couch. Y/N shook her head, banishing the thought from her mind. Eris was alive, the clear rise and fall of his chest gave that away, no matter how shallow it was.
Despite her uncomfortable position atop the coffee table, Y/N didn’t move, didn’t blink as she watched Eris. His wounds had slowly begun to heal but she still did not trust her own healing abilities fully. If any of the wounds got infected whilst they healed, Y/N didn’t want to wake to Eris dead on her couch.
Y/N let out a yawn but continued to keep her eyes open.
***
When Eris finally awoke, it was to a shout of pain. He shot up from his position on the couch, ripping open the wound Y/N had so carefully stitched. His hand flung to his side, pressing down to slow the bleeding.
Y/N ran into the room, panic flooding her eyes. Eris was confused. Why was Y/N here? His heart beat faster as he surveyed the room. It had been many, many years since he had last been inside this small cabin but he recognised it instantly. Eris only began to panic even more.
“Of course you wake when I was getting a drink for myself,” Y/N said, sitting down on the table in front of him. “And you ripped your stitches open.”
“Y/N,” Eris gasped. “What am I doing here?”
Y/N wiped her hands down her face. As she shuffled closer, he could identify the dark circles under her eyes that he knew were not there the last time he had seen her. And as she shuffled closer he only now noticed his lack of shirt, bare skin exposed to the air. Shame instantly rose within Eris.
“You turned up here yesterday evening,” Y/N said, a haunted look in her eyes as her gaze drifted to the side. “You were covered in blood– your blood.”
Eris gulped down air as he pressed on his wound harder, he could feel the blood begin to slither between his fingers as he tried his best to keep it within his body.
“Here,” Y/N said, the softest Eris had heard her voice in years. “Let me help.”
“You’ve done enough,” Eris said, letting his facade and walls turn to steel. “I can deal with it from here.”
The moment Eris went to stand, he collapsed instantly. Y/N rushed to his side and helped him settle back on the couch. The bloodstained couch. It was a wonder how he was even alive.
“Let me help you, Eris,” Y/N said, more firmly this time. A tone he was far more used to.
“Why?” Eris scoffed. “Because you care about me?”
“No,” Y/N said. If she had any idea of the dagger that word sent to his heart. “I don’t need the heir of Autumn to die on my couch. I’m already an outcast in the village already.”
Eris's eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Y/N.“
“I’m glad I could help you Eris, but why are you here? You threatened me with banishment not even a day ago and now you show up here begging for help,” Y/N said.
Eris sighed. “I don’t know why I ended up here, Y/N.” It was a lie but Y/N didn’t need to know the truth— at least not yet.
“Then what happened? You nearly died on me multiple times,” Y/N said, her voice catching. Eris fought the urge to reach out.
“I can’t say, Y/N,” Eris said, looking at his bloody hands.
Y/N scoffed. “Eris, you show up on my doorstep close to death and you cannot tell me what happened?”
Eris squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t, Y/N.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“Both,” Eris said, meeting her eyes again.
Y/N sighed. “Let me see your wound back up.”
“It’s fine, Y/N. I need to leave,” Eris said.
He tried to stand but the moment he tried, he grunted in pain. His side felt as if it were on fire.
“Eris, you need to have this stitched again,” Y/N said, shuffling closer. “It won’t heal properly otherwise.”
Eris held her gaze. He could see the gleam of the unshed tears lingering in her eyes. Eris knew they weren’t for him. They were because of him. If he had died within her house, he didn’t even want to imagine what the rest of the village would say about her. He didn’t want to imagine what his own father would do to her. Eris only knew it would be far worse than what was done to him.
“Fine,” Eris said and allowed himself to pull his hand away from the wound. It was still bleeding but not as much as before.
Silently, Y/N moved to his side, sitting down on the dried blood. Eris cringed. That was his blood covering the couch. It was his blood covering her dress.
Eris could barely feel the needle stitching his skin back together. All he did was stare forwards at the small table in the centre of the room. It was the same table as the last time he was in this house, Eris noticed.
***
511 Years Ago
Eris laughed as Y/N pulled him into her house. It was late at night and the house was empty, her father was working late and Y/N took it upon herself to drag Eris back here.
“Y/N, why have you dragged me here?” A twenty year old Eris asked as a nineteen year old Y/N dragged him down to sit on the couch.
“It was your birthday a few days ago,” Y/N said. “And I know that you didn’t do much for it because your mother and father have been fussing over your mothers pregnancy. So…”
Y/N reached into her small bag and pulled out a small box. She handed it to Eris.
“You didn’t need to get me anything,” Eris said.
“Well I did,” Y/N said, casually holding onto his arm.
Eris slowly opened the box and was greeted by the sight of the most beautiful ring.
“I had it engraved!” Y/N said excitedly. “I know how much you love to be around me…”
Eris rolled his eyes but didn’t object.
“So,” Y/N continued. “You will always have a piece of me with you. I asked for the gem in my necklace to be split into two.”
Eris read the engraved text on the inner part of the ring.
“For the days you feel alone…”
“I have a matching one,” Y/N said, taking her own ring out of her pocket.
“All you need to do is touch the gem embedded in the metal and I will feel it,” Y/N said. “The same with me.”
Y/N slipped her own ring onto her finger. It was thinner than Eris’s ring yet just as beautiful. She lightly ran her finger over the gem and Eris felt his ring heat up the smallest amount.
“Y/N…” Eris said, looking at the ring in his finger. “How much did you spend on this?”
Y/N shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
Eris looked at Y/N, many emotions overwhelmed him to the point where he couldn’t find the words to say. Despite having a good relationship with his mother, she had never gotten him a meaningful present before. His father never really cared about birthdays so Eris rarely even got a ‘Happy Birthday’ from his father.
But this gift from Y/N trumped any other gift he had received before, or will ever receive. He felt a tug and his breath was gone for a brief moment.
“Thank you, Y/N,” Eris said, his finger gliding over the small gem.
Y/N smiled. “You’re welcome. Now you will always know I am beside you.”
Eris couldn’t think of anything to do but pull her into him, wrapping his arms around her body. Y/N’s arms snaked around his neck, embracing him tightly.
The scent of her overwhelmed Eris. Her scent was once he could always pick out in a crowd of a thousand. It was comforting for him, it made him feel safe, loved.
“Y/N…” Eris began, afraid for the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “I love you.”
Y/N’s body went rigid before she pulled away from Eris, an indescribable expression on her face. Eris’s heart sank.
He quickly avoided her gaze and shuffled uncomfortably on the couch. “I’m sorry. Just forget I said anything.”
Just as he went to stand up, Y/N gently clasped his hand. “You love me?”
Eris met her gaze once more. “I do. I have for a while now, I just didn’t want to complicate things. I didn’t want to lose you as a friend.”
Y/N shook her head. “You haven’t lost me as a friend, and you never will.”
Eris offered a stiff smile. “Well I would prefer it if we just completely forget that this ever happened between us.”
“Why?”
Eris shuffled. “Because you don’t return my feelings.”
Y/N smiled, soft and gentle. “I never said that.”
Eris’s heart skipped a beat.
Y/N laced her fingers with his. “I love you too, Eris. I never said anything because I thought you would never return my feelings.”
A sigh of relief slipped past Eris’s lips. “You love me back?”
“Of course I do,” Y/N said, positioning her body closer to Eris. “How could I not?”
Eris smiled. “I honestly don’t know what to do.”
“I do,” Y/N said and soon enough her lips were pressed firmly against Eris’s.
***
“Eris,” Y/N said. “Eris!”
Eris snapped out of his thoughts and turned his attention away from the table in front of him. “Yes?”
“You’ve been staring blankly at the table ever since I began stitching up your wound,” Y/N said.
Eris looked down and noticed she had already finished. He barely felt it at all. “Thank you.”
Y/N nodded before moving away from him. Despite the fire coursing through his veins, Eris suddenly felt cold.
“Now are you going to tell me what happened?” Y/N asked as she wiped the blood from her hands.
“No,” Eris replied, grunting in pain as she shifted positions.
“Still so stubborn,” Y/N muttered.
“I need to leave,” Eris said. “I don’t want my mother wondering where I disappeared to. And I have other matters to finish.”
“You are not going anywhere,” Y/N said. “Not until you are fully healed anyway.”
“I am leaving, Y/N,” Eris said.
“You can barely stand without causing pain,” Y/N commented.
“I can,” Eris said.
Y/N folded her arms across her chest. “Prove it.”
“Fine,” Eris said.
This time Eris did manage to get to his feet but the pain all over his body made him sway in place. He felt as if he were being beaten all over again.
“See,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Sit back down, Eris.”
“I’m not staying here, Y/N,” Eris said as she took an excruciating step towards the front door. “I can’t.”
“Why? Afraid being seen with a servant girl will ruin your image?” Y/N spat.”
“Don’t,” Eris hissed.
“Don’t what?” Y/N said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Eris said. “You are so much more than that.”
“As if you believe that, Eris,” Y/N scoffed. “For years you have looked down upon me for being a worker in the Forest House. You have sneered at me in the halls. You have constantly belittled me whenever someone sees you talking to me. You act like I am the scum of the whole of Prythian. I can’t believe I loved you all those years ago.”
Loved.
Past tense.
The one word cut Eris deeper than any other wound on his body. Of course he already knew that Y/N no longer loved him but it didn't hurt any less to hear it come from her mouth.
“I have my reasons for everything, Y/N,” Eris said, closing his eyes, wishing he were anywhere else.
“It would help a lot for you to justify them,” Y/N said, her voice cracking. “You were my first kiss, my first love, my first everything. I always imagined what our life would be like together. I pictured it every day. The day my fathers debts were made public, you comforted me, you stayed with me for those first few weeks when it was the hardest. It was in those moments when I realised how deep my love went for you. Everyone else abandoned me, but you stayed.”
“But the moment your brother Tycho was born, everything suddenly shifted. You became a completely different person. You became cruel, distant and cold, not just toward me but to everyone who was close to you,” Y/N said, her eyes brimming with tears. “You became a stranger to me. I thought it was just the stress and gave you the benefit of the doubt but the moment my father passed away and I heard you laugh with your father about it, I knew that beautiful heart inside your body had turned to stone.”
Eris squeezed his eyes shut. “I had my reasons.”
“As you’ve said, but I deserve to know the reason why the Eris standing before me right now, killed the male I was once in love with.” Y/N’s voice broke and Eris dreaded to find out what he would find if he opened his eyes.
“I can’t–”
“That is bullshit, Eris,” Y/N exclaimed. “I deserve to know why the male bleeding in my living room replaced the one who I shared so much of myself with.”
Slowly, Eris opened his eyes. Tears were streaming down Y/N’s face. Eris’s heart clenched as he fought the instinctual urge to reach for her.
“It was because of you,” Eris confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I did all of it to protect you from my father and my younger brothers, everything.”
“What do you mean?” Y/N asked.
“I have already told you too much, Y/N,” Eris said. “I need to go before my father finds out where I am.”
As Eris turned, Y/N suddenly gasped.
“Eris,” Y/N said. “Your back…”
He knew what she could see. The scars that littered his back were his own secret, one he preferred no one else knew about, not even his own mother. When Eris had received the beating from his father, he was shocked to discover that he wouldn’t be adding to the collection on his back, but on his torso and chest instead.
“I told you I needed to protect you from my father,” Eris said before limping out of the small house.
The moment the cold air hit his skin, Eris hissed in pain. He was more aware of every cut and wound on his body.
“Eris, don’t walk away,” Y/N begged as she followed him.
“Y/N, go back inside,” Eris said. “And don’t ever talk to me again. I can’t let him anywhere near you.”
“At least stay until you are healed,” Y/N said. “Your power is drained. Are you really going to walk all the way to the Forest House from here? You could die in this cold.”
“Better out there than in your house,” Eris said, each step felt like a rain of daggers.
“Eris, please just come back inside,” Y/N said.
“Y/N, the longer I stay here, the more danger you are in,” Eris said. “My father has most likely already sent my brothers after me. I cannot be seen with you. It will only confirm his suspicions.”
“What suspicions?” Y/N asked.
The more Eris walked the more he could feel his energy drain. He dragged his feet along the path to the gate of Y/N’s garden. His legs began to get weaker and weaker and his head spun. He had lost too much blood to be up on his feet this fast.
“Please, go back inside,” Eris muttered.
“No, what suspicions, Eris?” Y/N asked.
“Please…” Eris said, feeling himself get weaker.
He buckled under his own weight and fell onto the cobblestones below him. He could barely lift his arm up. The sound of Y/N’s quick footsteps echoed on the ground and she appeared in his vision.
“Y/N,” Eris mumbled. “Please, just leave me here.”
“No,” Y/N said. “I told you to stay inside but you didn’t listen.”
“I can’t be seen with you,” Eris siad, his vision becoming blurred.
“I don’t care, I am not leaving you here to die. I won’t let you,” Y/N said.
“I can’t let you get close to me,” Eris whispered. “It was the only way to stop it.”
Eris couldn’t stop the words falling from his mouth. Everything he never wanted to say aloud was coming to light.
“Stop what? You are not making any sense right now,” Y/N asked and Eris felt the warm caress of her hand on the side of his face. From what he could see, Y/N looked concerned, all the hatred for him had seemed to be wiped clean from her face.
“Stop the bond snapping,” Eris mumbled, leaning into her touch. “You are my mate, Y/N.”
Eris’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt himself drift into unconsciousness.
#acotar x reader#a court of thorns and roses#eris vanserra#eris vanserra x reader#eris x reader#eris acotar#acotar
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Possession
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: It's no surprise that girls flirt with Jessie anytime she's out. That's irritating enough to begin with, but when she does nothing about it? It's even worse. And frankly, you've had enough.
Warnings: G!P content. Slight angst. Possessive sex and language. Marking. Risky sex. Slight breeding kink.
A/N: Inspired by this request.
“The Jessie Fleming? At my table? Who knew I’d get so lucky.”
You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. Instead, you glanced over at your girlfriend to see her cheeks flushing red and a sheepish smile on her face.
“Oh. Hi. Nice to meet you,” Jessie greeted the server.
“Naomi,” the server introduced herself as she extended her hand to Jessie, which Jessie, of course, shook. She was nothing, if not polite. The woman gave a satisfied smile. “Nice to meet you as well. I’ll be taking care of you today.”
The woman continued to give her spiel and you tried to not react as she paid extra attention to Jessie throughout. By the time she took orders and left, Kelli and Sam were holding back snickers over how flirtatious the whole interaction had become.
Jessie, however, simply looked around the table with a perplexed frown. For someone so smart and observant, she could be unbelievably clueless sometimes.
“What’s so funny?”
Sam and Kelli exchanged looks with you and you simply looked away. You weren’t in the mood to engage.
“She was very friendly. That’s all,” Sam eventually said, pulling another laugh out of Kelli.
Jessie’s frown didn’t diminish and Kelli caught your eye but you waved her off. There was no point in getting into it or making it into something more.
You tried to carry on with your evening as best you could. The way the table and seats were situated, one chair on each side of the table, you couldn’t easily cuddle up with Jessie. Sure, you leaned in, placed a hand on her leg now and then, but weren’t exactly staking a claim.
And frankly, you didn’t really want to have to. It shouldn’t just be you all over her; you wanted Jessie to claim you, too.
Your friends and family knew you were together, but Jessie made no effort to make things more public than that. You’d kissed her cheek one time while out for coffee and she muttered and withdrew when she thought she saw some phones come out to take pictures. She was fine with your loved ones knowing about your relationship, but she didn’t want to invite the public into it.
You didn’t mind at first. It made sense and you weren’t keen to be on display either. But as the months wore on and Jessie continued to be flirted with relentlessly, your patience grew thin.
It also really didn’t help that Jessie was oblivious to girls advances most times. Perhaps it should’ve made you feel better that she didn’t outright reciprocate, but it typically meant she accepted it and wouldn’t shut it down.
Tonight was a prime example. Naomi stopped by your table more often than others, engaged Jessie in conversation - including somehow getting Jessie to offer her tickets to an upcoming game. By the time Naomi returned to your table with a free drink just for Jessie, you’d had it.
“Do you want some?” Jessie asked innocently as she held up the drink to you.
“No,” you responded flatly, not even offering her a glance.
“Oh,” Jessie said quietly, holding the glass mid-air awkwardly for a second or two before taking a sip. She held out the glass again. “It’s really good.”
“Congrats,” you deadpanned as you folded your arms and sat back in your chair.
“Mm I need to go to the bathroom,” Sam mumbled, her and Kelli nudging each other.
“Yeah me too,” Kelli said as they both got up to give you two some space. You spied how Jessie’s eyes followed them momentarily before she looked over at you and leaned in, speaking discretely.
“Are you okay? You seem a bit…agitated.”
You couldn’t help but give her a sidelong glance. She held your gaze as you locked eyes, but you caught her swallow.
“You really have to ask?” You inquired wearily. She frowned, gaze flitting away as she wracked her brain.
“Jess,” you said in tired frustration, “this server has been hitting on you all night.”
“What?” Jessie asked, face screwing up in confusion. You shot her a withering look.
“Come on. She is laser focused on you. Complimenting you like crazy. Randomly talking with you. A free dessert for you. A free drink. Now, mind you, you did offer to get her tickets for a game, so, who can blame her, really,” you finished with a scoff, your irritation rising.
“Babe,” she refuted as she held up her hands in both confusion and defense. “She was just talking with me. And the dessert was for all of us. And I was just being polite. She said her nieces really want to go to a game!”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh. A knight in shining armour.”
“Y/N. You’re reading into things. She’s not flirting with me,” Jessie denied.
You rubbed your forehead, closing your eyes. “You know, your humility and kindness are some of your best traits. But sometimes, you’re just naive. And sometimes,” you exhaled heavily as you looked back over at her, “it’s just plain aggravating.”
Your temper flared as Jessie made a face at you.
“You’re totally blowing this out of proportion,” she stated.
You leaned your elbows on the table and rubbed your temples. You were tired of feeling this way. Like you were her girlfriend only when it was convenient, and just a bystander other times.
“Sure. Whatever you say, Jess,” you said quietly as you took a sip of your drink.
You heard her huff as you stared forward into the crowd of diners.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” she urged.
"Like what?" You ground out, though knowing it was dangerous to ask.
"I don't know. Jealous? It's not necessary," she said, her voice somewhere between stern and tentative.
"Mhmm," you said as you sat back and folded your arms against yourself.
You both sat in silence for several moments, neither of you making eye contact or making an attempt to converse. The tension was palpable and you felt your emotions beginning to bubble over the longer the silence persisted.
You looked around the room and eventually saw Kelli and Sam were just hanging out at the end of the hall where the restrooms were and clearly just waiting things out. You sighed and reached down to grab your belongings.
"I'm gonna head out," you announced flatly, still not looking over at her. Still, you caught her head snap over to you in your periphery. Your rose from your seat. "I'll transfer you whatever I owe."
"What?" She shifted in her seat, partially standing up but freezing partway as you threw your jacket on and pushed your chair back in.
"I'll call you tomorrow," you went on dully, offering her a glimpse with a forced, fleeting smile that was nothing more than for show. Jessie threw up her hands in confusion and protest.
"Where are you going?" She whispered, but tone high and tense.
"Night, Jess."
You caught Sam and Kelli's eyes as you were leaving and looked shocked, but you waved them off, mouthing, "I'll text you later."
The brisk night air felt sharp on your skin as you pushed through the doors of the restaurant and walked down the street. You held your arms tightly against yourself in an effort to stay warm and comfort yourself from the upset that was continuing to mount despite your departure.
"Y/N!"
It felt like your heart faltered as you heard that familiar voice calling your name. You heard her distant footsteps rapidly approaching as she ran down the street towards you. You pulled your arms in tighter and continued walking, refusing to look back.
"Hey," her voice was soft now and right behind you and you felt her hand on the crook of your arm as she pulled you around.
You looked away immediately, determinedly not looking her in the eye as though that would somehow prevent her from seeing the tears in your eyes. You frowned in annoyance as you wiped away a stray tear.
"Babe," she said sadly and you caught the way her face fell upon seeing you. She tried to pull you in, but you took a step back. She seemed to contemplate trying again, but ultimately just clasped her hands in front of herself and looked down at the concrete before up at you once again.
"What?" You snapped, feeling guarded and defensive, but still too vulnerable to meet her gaze.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry," she said quietly, taking a small, tentative step towards you. "I didn't know all this stuff tonight was bothering you this much. I'm really sorry. You know I'd never mean to hurt you."
"I know," you practically huffed as you shifted your weight, popping a hip out and glancing at her briefly. "Whatever. It's stupid. It doesn't matter. I just want to go home."
"It's not stupid," she said gently, but firmly, seeking your eyes. "If it's upsetting you, it's not stupid and I want to fix it."
Sure, she could fix tonight, but you were both going to keep finding yourself in this situation over and over again unless if the context of your relationship changed. And you didn't want to force her hand.
"Whatever," you muttered. "It's not going to change. So, I just need to get over it if we're going to be together."
Jessie's posture straightened, drawing your eye to see her looking both concerned and confused.
"If we're going to be together?" She asked. "What does that mean?"
A wave of irritation swept over you and your shot her a glare.
"Meaning, I have to be okay being your 'secret girlfriend' and seeing women flirt endlessly with you week after week. That's not going to change at all until you're ready to go public - when I can actually kiss you in public or, heaven forbid, you kiss me. Hold me. Act like something other than my friend. Who can blame these girls for thinking you're single?"
Jessie withdrew, her features serious and contemplative as she processed your words.
"That's what this is about?" She asked. You flashed her a fake smile as you wiped away a residual tear and sniffled.
"Stupid, right?"
She frowned with a heavy exhale.
"No," she said gently, apologetically even. Her gaze fell and she scanned the ground in thought before facing you again. "I'm just a private person. I wasn't meaning to 'hide' you or to make you feel like I'm any less committed."
You shook your head, feeling the urge to remove yourself from this discussion.
"It's fine. It doesn't matter, Jess," you said faintly as you sniffled, irritated with yourself at the need to.
"It does," she countered. "What can I do to fix this?"
"I'm not going to dictate that. I don't want you doing anything simply because you think I'm demanding it."
She huffed lightly but spoke earnestly.
"I didn't think it was upsetting you or hurting you. Which, now that I think about it, was really ignorant of me. I'm a private person, yes, but I don't need to hide, and I certainly don't want you to think or feel like I'm hiding you. That's not the case. I'm so proud of you and proud to be with you." She reached out and coaxed you to hold her hands as she looked you in the eye and spoke. "I am happy to go public with you. I'm sorry it's taken me this long. But I'm yours and you're mine."
Your lip started to tremble as she finished speaking and she gave you the softest, sweetest smile as you ducked your head. She ducked her head in response to catch your eye.
"Can I kiss you?"
You couldn't speak and merely nodded, a laugh finally escaping you at the end at how ridiculous you felt. She smiled and cupped your cheek as she captured your mouth in a gentle kiss for any passerby to see.
You sniffled after she eventually pulled back. You were still fighting back tears, but smiled at her nonetheless. A small smirk formed on her face.
"Would a date night photo on Instagram change things?"
She pulled you in and had already started to lift up her phone to take a selfie. You swatted her hand down.
"Not now! I've just been crying, for God's sake," you laughed, somewhat bewildered. She blushed as she tucked the phone away.
"Oh right. Well, I still think you look beautiful," she said, pulling an affectionate eye roll out of you.
"You're a goof. A very sweet goof, at that," you relented.
"I'm your goof," she said with a smile. You stared at her a moment, taking her in.
"Is that so?" You asked lightly. Her smile grew crooked.
"Yeah," she said with a confused shrug. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I'm not all that certain. That's all," you went on, a glint in your eye. She frowned, hesitating momentarily before retrieving her phone again.
"Well, I have other pictures of us I can post tonight."
You huffed silently, holding your eyes steady on her.
"That's not what I'm referring to," you said simply. "Yes, I do want that - it doesn't have to be tonight, by the way. But, I'm just saying there are other ways to prove you're mine."
"Oh," Jessie said, realization settling quickly on her face, phone forgotten once more. Her cheeks burned pink again and she couldn't quite hide the smile that was forming across her lips.
"Are you coming home with me tonight?" You asked sweetly as you toyed with the collar of her jacket.
Her smile grew full-blown. "I'd love to."
-----------
Your lips were locked with Jessie's as you pushed her backwards onto the bed. Her hands explored the skin of your back, pushing your shirt up as she did so. You moaned softly into the kiss as you coaxed her up the bed.
"You saying you're mine and I'm yours? That did something to me," you whispered in appreciation as you straddled her waist, very purposefully settling yourself on the prominent bulge in her jeans. You smiled into the kiss at the soft noise of want she made. You rocked your hips sensually into her and kissed her harder. "Now I want to hear it again and again."
Your kiss muffled her moan as her fingers dug into your waist and she pulled you down into her. It did nothing but encourage you to embrace this urge further.
You leaned back and moved your hands hurriedly under her shirt, pulling it off of her with an urgency she hadn't seen before. Her sports bra immediately followed and it had hardly hit your bedroom floor before you ducked your head down to start laying hard, marking kisses along her chest and up her neck. She moaned quietly under your attention, but soon found her voice.
"H-hey. I have practice tomorrow. Everyone's going to see and they're going to have a field day," she protested mildly. The way she held your waist firmly as she bucked up into you through her pants dismissed any kind of concern you may have had for her claim otherwise.
"Let them," you said simply as you sucked hard to leave a particularly large hickey on her chest.
"Ah, fuck," she moaned as one hand dug through your hair and she arched her back into you.
"I don't need to worry about you every time you're out of my sight, right?" You asked, a lilt in your voice as you trailed a finger down her chest.
"No," she answered immediately. "I'm yours."
"Well, with a woman as gorgeous as you, one can't be too sure," you answered as you began to mark up her torso. "Make sure that if any other girl makes a move, they'll see you're taken. You've already been thoroughly loved and you don't need someone else."
"Shit," Jessie said, her voice shuddering and you glanced up her body to see her looking down at you, eyes hooded, cheeks flushed. When you caught her eye she couldn't help but let out a soft laugh of awe, letting her head fall back against the pillow briefly with a smile before looking down at you again.
"You like being mine, baby?" You asked as you began to undo her pants. As you unbuttoned and unzipped them, moving the restrictive fabric aside, her cock sprang up within her boxer briefs, making itself even more known than before. You smirked smugly.
"Even if you don't know you're mine, your cock seems to."
Jessie exhaled roughly, fingers splaying through your hair.
"All of me knows, babe. Believe me," she told you emphatically.
You pushed down her pants and her boxer briefs, fully releasing her hard cock. Your core pulsed upon seeing her precum leaking from the tip and how it strained into the air, eager for you. You leaned down and kissed the head, slowly dragging your tongue across the tip to lick up the precum. You smiled as her hips instinctively jerked up towards you.
"Fuck," she breathed.
You looked up and her and began to strip off your clothes, fully removing hers as well and straddled her once more, your dripping core poised an inch or two above her aching cock. You could see her breathing was deep, but quick, her eyes transfixed between your legs as she subconsciously licked her lips and massaged your thighs with her strong fingers.
"Let's make sure all of you knows," you stated as you leaned forward, your finger and thumb softly grasping her chin and titling it up to kiss you.
One hand of hers remained at the crease between your hip and thigh, and the other came up cup the side of your neck, pulling you into an eager kiss.
Your smug smirk persisted as you pulled back and grasped her hot length in your hand, lining her up at your entrance and slowly sinking down onto her. You relished the way her head fell back into the pillows and how her eyes fluttered shut, mouth agape as your heat embraced her.
"God, you feel fucking amazing," she praised as she opened her eyes once more only to be mesmerized by how you rose up to the tip before swallowing her member within you once more.
You leaned forward kissing her again.
"You know why it feels amazing?" You asked as you rolled your hips up before sinking down on her, bottoming out. Your mouth fell into an 'o' at the sensation of being filled so well. Your wet pussy was getting the base of her cock and her groin slick with your arousal. "Because your cock was made for me."
"Holy shit," she muttered into the kiss as she brought both hands back to your hips, her fingers digging in nearly painfully as she began to rock her hips up into you to meet your thrusts. "Fuck, baby. Yes, I was made for you."
You gasped into the kiss and dug your fingers into the front of her shoulders. You arched your back as you rode her.
"No one else," you told her as your pace quickened and she easily met you. The sounds of her skin clapping against yours rang through the room.
"No one else," she affirmed as held your gaze and began to thrust harder into you from below.
"You're going to tell everyone about us," you went on. "You're going to tell everyone that you're mine."
A small grunt of pleasure escaped her as she breathed heavily, eyes fixed on yours and not tearing away. "I'll tell everyone I'm yours. I want everyone to know that I belong to you."
A cry fell from your lips at her declaration and you bit your bottom lip as tightness began to mount in your core.
"No matter how many girls flirt with you, I want them to know that you're mine. That you chose me," you panted.
"I don't want any of them," Jessie proclaimed as she held you and thrust up into you. "I only want you."
You saw the way tension began to settle in her face; a look you knew all too well and a telltale sign that her climax was fast approaching.
"I want you to cum for me," you urged her as your hands firmly roamed her chest and abs. "Show me you're mine."
Jessie's mouth was agape as she panted and met your thrusts without fail. She glanced down, taking in how you were riding her so well and her nails dug into your skin. She looked back up to meet your eyes.
"I love you, Y/N. I'm yours. Only yours."
"Then cum for me, baby," you said as you bounced up and down on her length, claiming her. "Fill me up and show me you're mine."
Her body tensed up under you and she gripped you tighter than ever as she thrusted deep inside of you, spilling herself into with a shuddering cry.
She pulsed within you, rope after rope of her cum filling you and marking you as she pulled you tightly down against her, her breath hitching as she rode out her orgasm.
When she was done cumming, she relaxed underneath you, her head falling heavily into the pillows and her eyes closing and her chest heaved up and down as she worked to catch her breath.
You looked down at her, now fully recognizing the red marks and bruises you'd left on her body in your wake of possessiveness. Maybe you'd feel a bit apologetic tomorrow, but in this moment, it just made you core pulse with need.
She was softening inside of you, but when you felt you'd given her enough of a break, you began to rock your hips subtly against her.
"Seeing you marked up like this, laying there spent, your cock warming inside of me, it has me craving you all over again," you told her.
She groaned deep in her chest as she opened her eyes to watch you sultrily rocking atop of her.
"Fuck, you're going to get me hard again," she chuckled.
You winked at her. "That's kind of the point, my love."
She exhaled steadily as she grasped your hips again and began to roll her hips up into you.
"Well you know I'm ready to go for you at any time," she smirked as she watched your hips. She smiled fully as she shifted her gaze up to your eyes. "I'm yours, after all."
"And I fucking love you for that," you whispered as you leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss.
A small squeal escaped you, muffled by her lips as she flipped you both, you now on your back with her resting atop of you between your legs.
"We've been talking a lot about how I'm yours," she said as she began to kiss her way down your neck, a series of small gasps already escaping you as you writhed underneath her, feeling her cock growing hard and full inside of you once more. "But I want to hear about how you're mine." You subconsciously punctuated her demand with a small moan.
"I know I'm not the only one who wants you," she growled as she rolled her hips into you and nipped at your neck. "And I don't like the thought of other people thinking they have a shot with you."
You gasped, your core tightening around her. "They don't," you told her.
"And why is that?" She asked as she began to suck on your neck, making sure to leave a bruise.
"Because I'm yours," you told her unequivocally.
"Well how are they going to know that if I don't mark you? If there isn't a way for them to see that you belong to me?"
"Oh fuck," you gasped and she began to draw her hips back fully and sink completely into you in a slow, purposeful pace.
"At the very least I need to leave some hickeys," she said lightly as she switched sides. "At a glance someone will know you've already been taken." She grasped your hands and pinned them above your head. "Maybe a ring someday. That'd do the trick." She drew her hips back and thrust firmly into you, drawing a cry of pleasure from you. "Best of all though, would be if you were holding my baby on your hip, another one inside of you, rounding you out. Fuck. There'd be absolutely no doubt, then."
"Oh my God," you said, voice quivering with arousal at her words. You could feel yourself spilling onto the sheets below you. Maybe it was her cum from before or your endless arousal; you couldn't be sure, but you were absolutely throbbing with need for her.
She continued to mark you up as she pleasured you patiently and skillfully. You writhed beneath her, her hand holding yours in place above you.
"I want to touch you," you pleaded. She released your hands with no protest.
"Take me, Jess," you said as your hands wandered wildly along her back, her body unable to stay still.
"My cum's already deep inside of you," she mumbled against your skin with a smirk. "I'd say I've already taken you." She lifted herself up to look down at you. "But I can't get enough of you. I want to take you over and over. Make you mine every time so you never forget."
"I could never," you panted.
"You are the only one I need," she told you as she began to quicken her pace, the bed beginning to creak beneath her movements. "I want to make sure I'm the only one you need."
"God, you fuck me so good, Jess. You're all I need," you assured her as you pulled her down tightly onto you again, wanting the heat of her skin directly on as much of you as possible.
"You're my girl," she whispered adoringly against you as her hips thrust into you.
"I'm your girl," you reiterated, panting in her ear as she fucked you harder and deeper into the mattress.
"Oh God, nobody's ever made me feel this good," you said as the wet sounds of her cock driving in and out of your slick pussy overwhelmed you.
"And no one else ever will because you're mine now," she told you.
"Oh God," you whimpered as you clawed up her back and simply held on as she fucked you senseless.
"I'm going to cum again," she told you. "Where do you want it?"
"Inside me. Please. Always," you panted. "I want you to cum inside me. Claim me."
"Right answer," she said smugly as she began to dig her knees deeper into the bed, giving herself more leverage as she began to pound into you with enough force that your body was being shimmied up the bed until your head began to jostle against the headboard.
"Here it comes, baby," she said. "Gonna make you mine again."
"Please, Jess, please. I need it," you whimpered.
Immediately, she was grunting over top of you, her rapid thrusts halting as she ground her hips into your heat, pouring her cum as deep inside of you as possible.
You spasmed around her cock, gripping it rhythmically as radiant heat filled you as your orgasm overtook you. You name was on her lips and echoing off the walls of your room for all the neighbours to hear.
She laid heavily on top of you, cock softening inside of you once more, as you both rested in the wake of your climaxes. Her weight on top of you made you feel safe and secure and you didn't want her to move.
In time, she pushed herself up off of your torso, laying gentle, sweet kisses to satiate you as your hummed in complaint.
"I don't want to crush you, baby," she told you. Despite your denial, she lifted herself up fully onto her knees, drawing back to where the head of her softened cock was the only thing left plugging your entrance.
"Let's see how much of a mess we made," she said with a teasing smirk as she pushed down on her cock so it popped out of you. A smile spread across her face and her eyes lit up as cum began to drip out of you to further stain the sheets.
"Fuck. With the way you make me cum, your pussy really was made for me," she said as she dipped two fingers inside of you to scoop out some cum. She showed you briefly before pushing it back inside of you. She smiled at you. "Right where it belongs."
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Queen's Envoy
Pairing: (fancast) Benjicot Blackwood & Velaryon female!reader
Plot: The Princess is sent as an envoy to get more allies. She is tasked with treating lords in the Riverlands. As she finds herself far from home, she discovers a certain Blackwood boy, who isn't as scary as she thought.
Warnings: typical westeros stuff, badly written panic attack, losing consciousness, being carried (no weight mention tho)
N/A: thanks to my friend and grammarly cause i had such a huge mess
“Prince Jacaerys will fly north. First to the Eyrie to see my mother's cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, and then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm's End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. And Princess Name will fly west to Raventree Hall and treat with Lord Blackwood. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore.”
Rhaenyra saw how her children talked in the distance, as they were getting ready to depart. Name held Luke's hand and chuckled softly at something he said. The Queen’s heart ached as they embraced, expressing good wishes and mentioning how they would eat by the beach when they all returned.
-
Flying to the Riverlands was not an issue. As they flew over forests, [Name] rehearsed what she would say out loud. She would speak of uniting the realm, strength, and the promise of a good queen. During his reign, Viserys Targaryen named Rhaenyra as his heir, but the Hightowers were now threatening her claim. The support of the Riverlords was crucial for the cause and [Name] knew this.
Goldwing descended on a small clearing of flowers, allowing [Name] to slide down his wing. She caressed the dragon's face, glad that they arrived safely.
She glanced around, seeing how a group of men were pointing at them in the distance. [Name] heart began to race as she clutched the dagger Daemon insisted she had to take. Goldwing stood tall, protecting his rider.
“We mean no harm,” one of the men said, now at a talking distance. They were all staring at Goldwing in awe, they had never seen a dragon.
“What do you want, girl?” The other asked with curiosity.
“I am here to see Lord Blackwood.”
Their expressions turned from amazement to worry as a guy walked towards her with a crazed, yet amused look. “And who is looking for him?” He eyed her shamelessly, not missing the intricate details in the riding leathers she wore.
“Princess [Name] Velaryon,” she revealed proudly, not allowing herself to feel intimidated.
The boys fell silent, shock evident on their faces. They never expected to see a princess in the Riverlands. The boy cleared his throat and lightly scratched his brow, uncomfortable with his crude behavior. "My name is Benjicot Blackwood," he said. "But I can guide you to Raventree Hall if you'd like to speak with my father."
“Thank you,” [Name] smiled kindly.
They walked quietly, [Name] was enjoying the smell of nature and the breeze. The air was crisp, as the sun had just risen not long ago. [Name] glanced at Ben from the corner of her eye, expecting him to speak about something, since he seemed like the type that would talk for hours. Ben, on the other hand, was very aware of [Name’s] presence beside him. She moved with grace and her eyes filled with wonder at her surroundings. He had never seen anyone like her, and her sudden appearance had sparked different emotions in him.
They eventually reached Raventree Hall. Everyone inside the walls stopped and stared, even murmured, about the unexpected visitor. As they approached the main hall, Ben finally broke the silence. "My father is a good man," he promised. "He will listen to you. No matter what you need, he can help you."
[Name] nodded, grateful for his reassurance. "Thank you, Ben," she replied softly. "I hope he listens. It's... it's important."
Ben gave a small, encouraging smile and pushed the door open, gesturing for [Name] to enter first. Perhaps this meeting would get a strong army to support her mother’s claim to the Iron Throne.
-
Raventree Hall was filled with laughter, clinking goblets, and loud chatter. Samwell Blackwood had reaffirmed his claim to support Rhaenyra Targaryen, the rightful heir.
Samwell sat on the high table, alongside his sister Alyssane and his son Benjicot. The boy, however, could not take his eyes off her. His admiration grew into a silent yearning.
As the evening grew late, Ben found himself drawn into conversations with the Princess. At first, he stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing. But [Name], sensing his nerves, engaged him in discussions about anything that crossed her mind.
Encouraged by her words, Ben found himself talking more freely. He recounted tales of his training, his support for her mother’s claim and of course, about fights he had with Bracken boys. Throughout the night, they shared stories and laughter. Others at the feast noted their conversation and exchanged glances, some smiling at the young boy’s naiveness.
As [Name] stood up to leave for the night, Ben grabbed her hand and spoke without thinking, “Princess, would you like a tour through the Riverlands?”
[Name’s] heart was pounding in her chest. “Of course, I would love that.”
-
Ben woke with the sun, excitement coursing through him.
After getting dressed, he hurried through the castle to the guest chambers. As he knocked on the door, he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling shy.
There was no response from inside. Did she leave without me? He wondered as he knocked again, but still no answer. Glancing down the hallway, he slowly opened the door.
[Name] was there, lying on the bed. "Princess?" Ben called out softly. She turned toward his voice, struggling to open her eyes. "Oh... I apologize for waking you," Ben said, now feeling like he had ruined everything. "We can speak later."
"No," [Name] protested, her voice groggy. Ben's heart fluttered, he thought that was adorable. "Let me get dressed. I will meet you by the gates."
-
Ben was talking a stroll through the gardens, waiting on [Name]. He was debating if he should give her a bouquet of wildflowers when the maester hurried towards him, a letter clutched in his hand. The urgency in his eyes made Ben’s heart drop. Accepting the letter, he noticed the seal of Dragonstone and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.
He read the brief message: Prince Lucerys was dead.
He found her not far away, possibly on her way to meet him, lost in thought. Ben approached her slowly, the letter gripped tightly in his hand.
“[Name],” he called softly, trying to keep his voice calm.
She looked up, her face brightening before she saw his expression. “Ben, is something wrong?"
He stood in front of her, taking a deep breath. “I received a letter from Dragonstone,” he began, his voice heavy with pity. “It’s about your brother, Lucerys.”
[Name’s] eyes widened, a mix of fear and dread washing over her face. “What happened to Luke?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Ben handed her the letter, not trusting himself to tell her.
Her hands shook as she read it. She stared at him, her face draining of color. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, it can’t be true.” Her breathing grew rapid and shallow, her eyes wide with panic. “Luke...no...” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath. She stumbled, her movements frantic. “I need to get to him,” she cried, looking around desperately. “I need to go home.”
Ben reached out to steady her. “[Name], please,” he pleaded, but she was not hearing him. She broke free from his grasp, running towards Goldwing.
“No!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “I have to go to him!”
Goldwing lifted its head, sensing her distress. [Name] reached for the reins, her hands shaking uncontrollably. “We have to go,” she repeated, her voice frantic.
Before Ben could intervene, her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground. “[Name]!” he shouted, rushing to her side. Goldwing roared, eyes glowing with worry.
Ben cradled her in his arms, his heart pounding. Servants and guards came running after hearing the dragon, their faces filled with concern as Ben lifted her body and ran inside to the guest chambers.
Ben stayed by her bed after she was examined by the maester, holding her hand and watching over her. As he sat there, his heart ached, knowing that the pain of losing her brother was something no words could heal.
Hours later, a soft groan had alerted Ben that she had woken up. [Name] stared at the room, confused by her surroundings, before trying to stand up. “Easy,” he begged, pushing her back onto her pillow. “Please don’t stand up.
After some minutes of silence, [Name] rubbed her hands on her face. “I remember... my brother..."
“I know. I'm so sorry,” Ben grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently..
“I… what now?” She asked herself, starting to tear up.
“The maester said you can return to Dragonstone when you feel better,” Ben informed her.
[Name] nodded. “I do not think I can travel back alone,” she whispered to him, causing Ben to give her a reassuring smile.
“Then I can go with you,” Ben softly wiped the tears from her cheeks.
#benjicot blackwood imagine#benjicot blackwood x reader#fancast benjicot blackwood x reader#hotd imagine#hotd fanfic#davos blackwood imagine#davos blackwood x reader
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poker face
⤷ sevika x fem!reader
summary: while sevika gambles, she figures a pretty little bird perched on her lap might do her some good.
tags: suggestive themes, gambling, lesbian sevika, timid reader
Sevika leaned back, sprawled confidently in her chair, one booted foot resting on the leg of the table, her other planted firmly on the ground. Around her, the bar thrummed with the low murmur of voices and clinking glass, air thick with smoke and the faintest scent of sweat and whiskey.
In her hand, she held a pair of dice, rolling them thoughtfully between her fingers as she surveyed the crowd with that sharp, intimidating expression, as though every face and every movement was just another game to win.
Then, her gaze landed on you, lingering for a second longer than it should— her lips quirking up into that dangerous smirk she wore so well.
“What’s the matter?” she drawled, voice low and rough, each syllable dripping with confidence. “Lost already, or just watching?” She cocked an eyebrow, her smirk tugging wider. At your silence and the subtle smile on your lips, she knew she got you hooked.
“You can sit with me, you know. I don’t mind a little company.”
The seat she was referring to was of course, her lap— a bold invitation, issued with an easy, casual pat on her muscular thigh. She looked at you with dark eyes, gleaming with a mixture of amusement and challenge, and there was no mistaking that this wasn’t a mere suggestion; Sevika was rarely one to ask without expecting a yes.
Her metal arm rested at her side, it’s weight almost matching her aura— solid, unyielding, and powerful.
“Come on, pretty,” she chucked softly, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table, dice still clutched between her fingers. “I’m not going to bite. Well, not unless you ask nicely.”
The reason she was so interested in you was unbeknownst to her— all she knew was that the way you stood there so timidly, hands clasped in front of you as you watched intently at the way her face contorted while she spoke, made her run imagination run wild. She wanted to see what you could handle.
Bashfully, you nodded with a smile, ducking your head down as if to subtly hide it for a moment. Sevika shifted slightly, adjusting to accommodate, her arm coming around to rest on the lower half of your back, guiding you down onto her thigh with a hum of approval— her eyes intense as they ran over your body like a wild animal sizing up it’s prey.
“Stay close,” she murmured, leaning in so her lips were inches away from you cheek, the warmth of her breath fanning across your supple skin, “luck’s better when you’re close.”
With that, she raised the dice, her focus fully on the table, but every so often she glanced back, her smile faint and confident. A few players at nearby tables were watching, perhaps out of envy, or out of confusion and awe. Sevika rarely showed interest in anyone like this. The way she carried herself set her apart from everyone else in the room. And yet, it was clear that her attention was singularly fixed.
“You ever played before?” she asked, her metal arm shimmering as she gestured towards the table. She gave you a sidelong glance, mouth twitching with a hint of merriment when all you offered her was yet another silent nod from left to right. You were shy, she liked that.
“It’s a simple game. Just keep your head, stay sharp, and know when to call a bluff.”
With a quick flick of her wrist, she tossed the dice, sending them skittering across the table. She watched them intently as they clattered to a stop, revealing her next move. The other players murmured, some of them visibly impressed, others more cautious as if weighing the risk of going up against her. But Sevika paid them no mind. Instead, she tiled her head towards you, eyes locking onto yours with a wicked heat that was hard to ignore.
“See? All it takes is a little credence,” she said, a touch smugly, reaching over to rake in a small stack of coins she’d won. After, her cold fingers came up to brush your cheek, briefly, but deliberately, a spark in the touch. “Stick with me and you’ll learn a thing or two about luck.”
There was an underlying thrill to her words, a leap of faith, a surrender to the unknown. And Sevika, true to form, had that air of someone who always kept her cards close, who revealed only what she wanted you to see. In her eyes, there was something intense, something daring you to lean in closer, to take a chance on whatever danger and excitement came next.
Then, she leaned back, letting her arm stay wrapped around you snuggly, protectively. Her voice dropped low. “Relax,” she whispered, her gaze holding a fierce light.
“The night’s just getting started.”
i have no idea how to gamble, so ignore the fact that i brushed over everything about it. also, first work here on this new blog! my first sevika work in general. something about her this season has me going feral i swear it’s insane, i just had to write her and get it out of my system (it didn’t work).
#arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane season 2#sevika#arcane sevika#sevika arcane#sevika league of legends#sevika x reader#sevika x you#sevika x y/n#i love buff women
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Spencer’s oldest child (either with reader or previous relationship) wanting to help out with readers baby!
“So…”
“So,” Spencer echoes, hooking Amy under the arms before she can wriggle away. He props her on the counter, cloth already in hand.
“About the baby.”
“What about the baby?” he asks, encouraging her head back gently to wipe her mouth. She’s covered in butter and omelette, a chive stuck to her chin.
“You know how she’s little?”
“Yes.” Spencer wipes her face clean very gently. It’s not a good plan, Amy wriggles and squirms away from the warm water and it takes a long time, but Spencer can’t bring himself to be rough. “She’s really little. I know all about it.”
“And mom is tired.”
Spencer grins. “Yes, mom is tired.”
“Can I look after the baby? ‘Cos I’m big?”
Spencer isn’t in the habit of lying to her, perhaps to the detriment of his own easy life. “Probably not. You are getting bigger, but she’s so little she’s actually quite fragile. We have to be careful to hold her the right way, and to carry her gently, because she’s not done forming. You don’t have the dexterity to do this all the time. Plus, she’s heavy.” Spencer puts the cloth aside. He leans down enough to be face to face with Amy, puckered up for a kiss.
Amy frowns. Spencer kisses her damp cheek.
“I do too have dex-trity.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to look after the baby.”
“Then who will look after me?” Spencer asks cheekily.
“Mom.”
“Okay. Listen,” he takes her face carefully into his hand, wiping at the place where he’d kissed affectionately, “there are ways you can help with the baby. Lots of ways! Stuff we already do, like making dinner, and stuff we’ve been doing to help mom, like washing her clothes and watering her plants.”
“I love mom so I water the plants, that’s not the baby.”
“I know,” he says, rubbing her cheek. “That’s why I do it too. But I promise it helps mommy more than you realise when we do this stuff for her.”
“Let’s do something else.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.”
Spencer opens his arms for her and she latches on like his baby sloth. He used to say it to her all the time, how she was his lazy sloth pup, always on his chest. “How about we ask?”
He carries her out of the kitchen and upstairs to find you, only you’re not where they left you in the master bedroom. Instead, you're sitting on the floor of Amy’s bedroom with the baby swaddled to your chest. “Oh, hey, it’s big Reid and little Reid.”
“What Reid does that make you?” Spencer asks.
“I’m ambiguously sized Reid.” You look down at the baby. “And this is tiny Reid.”
“What are you doing?” Amy asks.
“I’m cleaning up your humongous mess, angel.”
“What!” Amy shouts. Spencer laughs at her outburst. “Mom, I’m supposed to help you!”
“Says who?”
“Says me! Daddy, put me down.”
Spencer obliges her and sets her down. Amy runs to you and takes the doll from your hand, to your surprise, sweeping the pile of her dolls away, mixing the ones you’d redressed with naked and ragged ones. You cover the baby’s back, sighing. Spencer knows from experience those dolls are finicky.
“I was just trying to help,” you say, pouting at her. “It was a big mess, you can’t do it all by yourself, you’re just my little girl.”
Spencer appreciates the way you say it. It’s good to love someone, but it feels like great luck to have fallen in love with a mom who couldn’t adore her children more than you do. He wanted kids so badly, and your love for them cements a great decision. Amy doesn’t feel so lucky, throwing herself against the side of her bed with a dramatic, forlorn whine.
You tip your head back as Spencer kneels by your side. “What’s wrong?” you ask.
He pulls the swaddle from the baby’s face to see her. She’s awake but quiet. Recognition lights her features when she notices his poking, giving him a gurgling smile. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says to you. “Amy just wants to help today, ‘cos she’s our lovely girl.” His voice turns to sweetness as the baby’s smile widens. “Hello, angel. Hi, hi, hi.”
“You wanna help me?” you ask.
Amy pulls her face up from her messy bed sheets. “Yes, please.”
“Well, nobody’s given me a hug in a while.”
“I want to help with the baby!”
“Nobody’s given her a cuddle today, either.”
“She’s cuddling you right now!”
“She’s just resting. What she needs is a good hug and a good kiss.” You stretch your legs out in front of you and reach back to pull at the swaddle. Spencer helps before you can stretch your shoulder in the wrong way, taking the fabric down your arms and releasing you from its confines. You cup the baby’s weight in one hand, her head the other, and slide her into your arm. “Come on, best big sister. Come and hold her for me.”
Amy rushes to do as you’ve said. Spencer smiles to himself and pulls the mound of dolls toward him —there’s a lot of work to do in here, you weren’t kidding about the mess.
You put the baby in Amy’s lap.
“Now,” you say, leaning into Spencer’s, arms opening expectantly, “for me?”
Spencer can’t wait to abandon the doll and bend down over you. He almost pokes your kidney out with a Barbie, but he’s never been any good at resisting you when you ask for a cuddle. It’s not your most comfortable embrace, and yet it’s as perfect as any other, his laugh lost in your shoulder, wrapping his arms behind your back.
“Keep an eye on the babies,” you whisper.
Spencer checks that Amy’s holding the baby the right way and makes you into a Reid sandwich. “She told me she is too dexterous.”
“Did you imply she wasn’t?”
“I said,” he relents, smiling to himself as you squeeze his waist, “that she’s not dexterous enough to carry the baby all day long.”
“But how do you know?”
“I read a couple parenting books a few years ago, I tend to have a pretty good memory.”
“Do you remember how to rub my back?” you tease, softly, still a little shy after all these years.
Spencer rubs your back. Amy babbles loving nonsense at the baby for a few minutes, and then complains of being bored and wanting another omelette.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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strip poker — gojo satoru.
You leaned in a little closer, your voice dropping just enough for only him to hear. “Alright, Gojo Satoru. Since you’re so persistent… How about we make this interesting?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful grin forming on his lips. “Oh? I’m listening to you, doll.” he replied, clearly intrigued by whatever you had in mind. You took a sip of your drink, letting the silence hang between you for a moment, watching as his eyes remained locked on yours, his curiosity practically radiating off him. “Strip poker.” you said finally, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Just you and me. What do you say?”
WARNING/s: NSFW (R18+), Fluff, Romance, Love at First Sight, Strangers to Lovers, Pet Names (Doll, Boy, Baby, Etc), Profanity, Stripping Clothes, Oral Sex, Fingering, P to V Sex, Kissing, Making Out, Humor, Flirting, Teasing, Mention of Stripping, Mention of Body Parts, Mention of Sexual Acts, Mention of Alcohol, Depiction of Sexual Acts, Depiction of Nudity, Depiction of Alcoholic Beverage;
WORDS: 7.8k words.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: lately a lot of my works were really long, so i realized people need a refreshing thing from me than my long story formats. i thought about this during a writing block and i just thought that maybe, satoru would be the type to enjoy something like this, you know? and i think shoko and suguru would just try to make gojo greet all the guests and he'll be pouty. unless its reader, because reader is loved by gojo a lot (he just met you at this party) but anyway, if i posted this, it means the majority poll meant gojo won. but anyway i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all~ 🫶
ADDENDUM: with an hour left in the vote and the gap being wide — gojo does win 🙂↕️
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if you want to, tip! <3
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HE WAS LOOKING FOR SOMETHING EXCITING. Gojo Satoru leaned against the doorway, his drink swirling lazily in his hand, the dim light of the room casting playful shadows across his face. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see everything and nothing at once, were fixed on you. You were standing with Shoko and Suguru, laughing at some private joke, and he couldn't help but wonder how he had never noticed you before.
It was strange. He knew everyone worth knowing, especially those who moved in Shoko's and Suguru's circles. But you... you were different. Your laughter was genuine, your smile bright, and there was a certain ease to the way you carried yourself—a confidence that wasn’t showy but quietly powerful, drawing people in without even trying.
As you spoke, he watched the way your lips curved into a grin, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief. He could see that Suguru was captivated, leaning in to listen more closely, while Shoko rolled her eyes with a fond smile that suggested she was used to whatever game you were playing. Satoru couldn't quite hear what you were saying from where he stood, but he caught snippets of your voice, warm and inviting, tinged with a teasing edge that piqued his curiosity even more.
"How is it," he muttered to himself, "that someone like you has managed to slip under my radar?"
He took a sip of his drink, his gaze never wavering, trying to piece together the puzzle that was you. Maybe you were new to their circle, or perhaps you had always been there, hidden in plain sight, and he just hadn’t been paying close enough attention. Either way, he was intrigued, and that wasn't something that happened often.
When Shoko glanced over and caught his eye, she raised an eyebrow, smirking as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. He gave her a playful wink in response, but his attention quickly returned to you.
Suguru, noticing the shift in focus, turned and followed Shoko's gaze, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Satoru, come here." he called out, motioning for him to join. "Why are you lurking over there like a ghost at a party? Come say hi."
Satoru grinned and pushed himself off the doorframe, making his way over with a casual, easy stride. "I wouldn’t call it lurking, Suguboo." he said, slipping effortlessly into the group, his gaze still locked on you. "Just... observing."
You turned to face him fully, and for the first time, he felt the full force of your presence. Up close, you were even more intriguing—eyes bright and challenging, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Observing, huh?" you echoed, clearly amused. "Is that what they’re calling it these days?"
His grin widened, loving the way you didn’t shrink under his scrutiny but seemed to meet it head-on. "Well, you know, doll." he replied smoothly, "I like to get a feel for things before diving in."
Shoko snorted softly, rolling her eyes. "Translation: he likes to watch before he pounces."
"Careful, Satoru." Suguru added with a chuckle. "You’re starting to sound like a creep."
Satoru laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Maybe I am, Maybe I’m not." he admitted, his gaze still fixed on you. "But I like to have some good surprises for the interesting ones."
Your smile widened, clearly enjoying the attention, and you leaned in slightly, closing the distance between you. "So, am I interesting to you, Gojo?"
He felt a spark of electricity at the way you said his name, the way it rolled off your tongue like you’d known him for years. “Oh, definitely.” he replied, his voice dropping to a low, playful drawl. “Interesting enough to make me wonder how I've missed you all this time.”
You laughed softly, a sound that sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. “Maybe you just weren’t looking hard enough.” you teased him. “Maybe you need to have a better look, don’t you think?”
He leaned in closer, his smile turning sly. “Oh, I’m looking now.”
There was a beat of silence, charged with unspoken words and possibilities, and Satoru could feel the air between you crackle with an almost tangible energy. He was used to this game, the dance of flirtation, but there was something about you that felt different—like you were two steps ahead of him, and he was enjoying every second of trying to catch up.
“Let’s see if you can keep up.” you said, your eyes glinting with challenge. “Because I’m not that easy to catch, Gojo.”
His grin widened, excitement bubbling up in his chest. “Oh, I do love a challenge, doll.” he murmured, taking another sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. “And trust me, I’m very persistent when I sense something good for me.”
“Then am I good for you?” You grinned at him, eyes full of amusement.
He returned your grin. “Why, the moment I saw you, doll — you were good for me and all of my lifetimes.”
Suguru and Shoko exchanged glances, their amusement clear as they observed the growing tension between you and Satoru. Shoko's eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly enjoying the unfolding drama, while Suguru's smirk spoke of his own quiet amusement at the game Satoru was now fully immersed in. They didn’t need to say a word; their silent communication conveyed everything—this was going to be entertaining.
Satoru, however, was oblivious to their silent exchange. His focus was entirely on you, his mind buzzing with possibilities. The playful challenge you’d just thrown at him had ignited a spark of curiosity and interest that he couldn’t ignore. As he watched you, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief and your smile held a promise of excitement, he found himself drawn in even more.
You leaned in a little closer, your voice dropping just enough for only him to hear. “Alright, Gojo since you’re so persistent… How about we make this interesting?”
He raised an eyebrow, a playful grin forming on his lips. “Oh? I’m listening to you, doll.” he replied, clearly intrigued by whatever you had in mind.
You took a sip of your drink, letting the silence hang between you for a moment, watching as his eyes remained locked on yours, his curiosity practically radiating off him. “Strip poker.” you said finally, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Just you and me. What do you say?”
"Are you serious?" Satoru chuckled, his grin spreading wide across his face. The light overhead cast a gleam on his white hair, making him look even more striking under the dim glow of the room.
"Dead serious, darling." you replied, eyes glinting with a playful challenge. "Unless, of course, the great Gojo Satoru is afraid of a little game."
His grin only widened at the bait. "Afraid? Not exactly my style. But I've got to admit, it's not every day someone proposes strip poker to me the first time we meet." He took a sip from his drink, eyes never leaving yours, scanning for any sign of bluff or mischief.
You shrugged, leaning against the table with an easy confidence that only intrigued him more. "What can I say? I like to keep things interesting. And you looked like you could use a little excitement."
He laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. "So, what's the catch? I lose, and you get a fun little story to tell your friends? Or do I win, and...?"
You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Who says I intend to lose? Besides, winning isn't everything. It's the fun in between, Satoru."
He blinked at the use of his first name, a small surprise evident in his expression. Most people would hesitate to use it so casually, but coming from you, it felt oddly natural—like it had always been meant to be spoken by you. There was something about the way you said it, with that hint of mischief and confidence, that made it feel less like an invasion of personal space and more like an intimate invitation.
For a moment, Satoru’s gaze flickered around the room. It was then that he realized Shoko and Suguru had somehow vanished. The two had a knack for disappearing at precisely the right moment, leaving him in a situation that was both intriguing and precarious. Typical of them, really. They always seemed to know exactly when to make their exit, leaving him to fend for himself in whatever delightful predicament they had orchestrated.
A chuckle escaped his lips as he looked back at you, his eyes twinkling with both amusement and a hint of challenge. “Well, it looks like we’re on our own.” he said, his tone light but laced with a playful edge. “I suppose that means we get to make our own rules now.”
You raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the turn of events. “Seems like it, glasses.” you replied, your voice smooth and teasing. “So, what do you say?”
He grinned, the playful glint in his eyes growing stronger. “I think we should make the most of this opportunity, doll. Let’s not waste time,” he said, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “After all, it’s not every day I get to have a game of strip poker with someone as intriguing as you.”
His words were laced with a mix of flirtation and eagerness, his tone smooth and inviting. The term “doll” came out with a casual intimacy, making the moment feel even more charged. You could feel the heat between you intensify as he closed the distance, his presence commanding and electrifying.
You met his gaze with a confident smile, your heart racing a little faster. “Alright, Gojo.” you replied, your voice low and sultry. He pouts. You returned to calling him by his last name. You liked teasing him, he thinks. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“You better watch it, doll.” he said, setting his drink down and crossing his arms over his chest, still grinning. “I’ll bite. Let’s play. But don’t expect me to go easy on you. And don’t think for a second that I’ll be the one taking off anything first.”
You laughed, a sound that made him feel strangely lighter, more at ease. “Oh, I’m counting on it.” you said, your voice full of playful confidence.
His grin widened, the challenge lighting up his expression. “You’re so interesting, doll.” He chuckled, clearly delighted. “Where have you been all my life?”
You tilted your head slightly, enjoying the way his words seemed to both flatter and intrigue. “Well, you know….” you replied, your tone teasing. “Maybe I’ve been waiting for the right moment to make an entrance. And tonight, it looks like the stars finally aligned.”
Satoru’s eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity and admiration. “I have to say, I’m glad they did, doll.” he said, leaning in a bit closer, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Because you’ve definitely made this night unforgettable.”
“You’re quite the flirt.”
“Gotta shoot all the shots to win, doll.” He winks at you.
You shrugged, your smile teasing. “Well, you say this now….but you’ll lose to me too.”
He laughed, a carefree, confident sound that made Shoko and Suguru glance over with a raised eyebrow from a distant space. “Oh, I never lose.” he replied, leaning closer, his voice a low, tempting drawl. “Especially not when there’s something I really want.”
You rolled your eyes, but your grin didn’t fade. “Then prove it.” you said, nodding toward a quieter, dimly lit room down the hall. “Let’s go.”
Satoru, for his part, didn’t hesitate. He set his drink down with a casual flick of his wrist, his bright cerulean eyes still locked on yours as he pushed off the wall. He reached out and took your hand, his grip warm and confident.
“Lead the way, doll.” he said, his voice dripping with playful challenge.
You felt a rush of excitement at his quick agreement, and you couldn’t help but grin. You felt a thrill of excitement as you led him down the hall, the dim lighting casting soft shadows and adding an air of intimacy to the moment. With every step, the noise of the party grew more distant, replaced by the soft thrum of your heartbeat and the electric tension between you.
As you reached the door to the quieter room, you glanced back at him, a teasing smile playing on your lips. Gojo Satoru’s gaze was unwavering, his bright eyes reflecting a mixture of anticipation and admiration. He could feel the adrenaline in him. This was exciting. And he liked it. He liked you.
You pushed open the door, revealing a cozy, dimly lit space that felt almost like a secret hideaway. The room was furnished simply but comfortably, with a plush carpet and a few scattered cushions. It was the perfect setting for the game you had in mind.
He looked around, a playful smirk still on his face. “Alright, doll.” he said, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
You grabbed a deck of cards from a nearby table, shuffling them with a practiced ease. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, Gojo.” you teased, dealing the cards out between you.
Satoru sat opposite you, his posture relaxed, but his gaze was intense, locked onto you with an almost predatory focus. “I think I’ll take my chances, doll.” he replied smoothly. “And please, call me Satoru. Gojo is too formal for your gorgeous lips to mouth.”
You smiled, enjoying the tension that hung thick in the air between you, the game already beginning before a single card was played. "Alright then, Satoru." you said, your voice dripping with anticipation. "Let’s see who’s getting undressed first."
He chuckled, picking up his cards and leaning back comfortably. “Oh, it’s on now.”
And just like that, the game was set—a battle of wits, charm, and maybe something more.
You watched as his long legs folded with a graceful ease that didn’t quite match the competitive glint in his cocky blue eyes. He grabbed a deck of cards from a nearby table, his movements fluid, almost theatrical as he shuffled with deft, experienced hands.
You sat across from him, the distance between you feeling both vast and electric, like an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. The way you held his gaze, unwavering and unyielding, only made Gojo Satoru more intrigued. He wasn’t used to people looking at him like that—like he was just another person in the room, not just some role people fit upon him or a man with a reputation that preceded him.
“So, doll….” he began, dealing out the first hand with a practiced flick of his wrist. “How do you know Shoko and Suguru? And why haven't we met before tonight?”
You picked up your cards, smiling slyly. “Oh, I’m sure they’ve mentioned me. I’m just good at staying under the radar… when I want to.”
He leaned back, considering your words. “Mysterious. I like that. But I'm pretty good at picking up on secrets. Better watch out.”
You chuckled softly. “I think I’ll take my chances.”
The game began, and with each round, you both played with a mix of strategy and daring. He tried to read you, his eyes narrowing whenever you made a bold move, but you held your own, bluffing with an expertise that surprised him. His usual smug grin faltered slightly, and you could tell he was trying to decipher the mystery in your gaze. The room seemed to shrink with the tension between you, each card dealt heightening the stakes.
Satoru leaned forward, his gaze never leaving your face, a playful yet challenging spark in his eyes. “You’re a lot harder to read than I thought.” he murmured, the corner of his mouth curling upward in amusement. “But I like a good mystery.”
You smirked in response, feeling the heat of his stare, knowing he was trying to unravel you with every glance, but determined to keep him guessing. You were sure that soon enough, a pile of discarded clothing would grow between you steadily. But so far, there has been little, with your little ties. All you had removed were little, like a hair tie or a necktie.
You agreed it was still part of clothes. But then again, you just both wanted it to last a little longer. One after the other though was tossed aside with a flick of your wrist or a slow, deliberate grin from him, marking the razor's edge between victory and defeat.
The room little by little crackled with tension, the air thick with challenge and heat, and every turn of a card seemed to bring you closer, like magnets drawn together by an irresistible force. The game had become something more than a little fun thing — it was a dance with a Russian roulette where every bluff was a whispered confession, every raise a daring promise.
Your pulse quickened with every sly smile he threw your way, every calculated tilt of his head, and his eyes bore into yours, gleaming with a hunger that was impossible to ignore. The stakes climbed higher with every move, the line between a win and a loss blurring into something electric, something tantalizingly close to dangerous.
You could feel it in your bones — this was no longer just about cards or luck; it was about who would yield first, who would surrender to the inevitable tension simmering in the space between your bodies. And you like winning. But so did he. Winning was after all, a different sort of drug to be enjoyed.
Neither of you spoke, but the room was filled with a silent conversation, an exchange of glances and gestures that spoke volumes. The game wasn’t just about winning — it was about who could push the other further, who could tease out the truth hidden behind those guarded eyes. Neither of you wanted to lose, not when the real prize was so tantalizingly close. And as another card fell, you knew this was only the beginning.
"You're not bad, doll." he admitted, his shirt still firmly on but with a hint of pink on his cheeks, likely from the alcohol. “But I’ve been known to turn the tables.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested this game if I didn’t think I could win, Satoru.” you replied confidently, leaning forward. The playful spark in your eyes never left, and it only seemed to fuel Satoru’s competitive spirit further.
Round after round, pieces of clothing slowly came off. A shoe here, a sock there. He was still confident, leaning in closer as he laid down another hand. "Full house." he declared, his grin downright wicked now.
You glanced at his cards, then backed up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Nice." you said, sounding impressed, before laying your cards down with a flourish. "Straight flush."
He blinked, then laughed—a genuine, delighted laugh that came from deep in his chest. "No way! You little—"
“Looks like someone’s going to lose a little more than just their pride, Satoru.” you teased, enjoying the way his grin faltered for a moment, his confidence taking a tiny, amusing dip.
He leaned back in his chair, pretending to think deeply, then slowly began to unbutton his shirt. “Alright, alright. I’m a man of my word, doll.” he conceded, though his eyes never left yours, sparkling with mischief. “But don’t get too comfortable. The game’s not over yet.”
As he shrugged out of his shirt, you found yourself momentarily distracted by the unexpected sight—his lean, toned frame catching the dim light. Satoru noticed, his smile turning sly. “See something you like?”
You shrugged, keeping your expression neutral. "Just waiting for my next win."
He laughed again, a sound that seemed to fill the room, light and unburdened. “Oh, this is really crazy. I like that.” he murmured, leaning in closer, his voice dropping slightly. “I like you.”
You raise your glass, meeting his gaze with a bold smile. "The feeling might be mutual, but don't think for a second that means I'm letting you win."
For the first time in a while, Gojo Satoru felt a genuine thrill that had nothing to do with curses or danger. Just the electric spark of a moment, a challenge, and the intriguing mystery of the person sitting across from him, daring him to come closer.
The game continued on, the air thick with anticipation, each round upping the stakes. Satoru was completely absorbed now, his usual nonchalant demeanor replaced with focused intensity. For every card dealt, every sly smile exchanged, he found himself more drawn into this unexpected encounter.
As the rounds progressed, it became increasingly clear that you were holding your own. The playful banter between the two of you had turned into something sharper, more personal. It wasn't just a game anymore; it was a test—a test of wills, of understanding, of reading between the lines of every look and laugh.
Satoru tossed his next set of cards on the table. "Three of a kind." he said, tapping his fingers lightly against the table, eyes flickering with amusement. "Not my best, but not bad."
You looked down at your own hand, considering your options. "Hmm…." you hummed, tapping your chin thoughtfully before placing your cards down. "Four of a kind."
His mouth fell open in exaggerated shock. "No way! You’re cheating!”
You laughed, a carefree sound that seemed to light up the room. "Maybe you just need to step up your game, Gojo Satoru."
He tilted his head, pretending to look hurt, but his smile was as bright as ever. “Oh, I see how it is. You're trying to humble me. I can't let that happen. I have a reputation to uphold.”
He reached for his belt, starting to unbuckle it with deliberate slowness, making a show of every movement. "You really want to play with fire, huh?" he teased, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. "Careful, you might get burned."
You met his gaze head-on, your smile never wavering. "I think I can handle the heat."
He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re something else, you know that?” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, close enough that you could feel the faint brush of his energy, his presence suddenly more intense. “But I’ve got a feeling you’re not here just for a game, are you?”
Your eyes sparkled, the corners of your lips curling up just slightly. “Maybe I’m here to see what all the fuss is about. People talk about you, you know… like you’re this untouchable legend.”
He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest with a playful smirk. “And what do they say?”
You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Oh, you know… that you’re the strongest, the smartest, the most arrogant—”
“Hey!” he interrupted, laughing. “I’m not that arrogant… just very self-aware.”
You laughed too, feeling the tension between you soften into something warmer, more familiar. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”
His grin widened. "You think I’m a show-off, huh?”
“I think,” you said slowly, leaning in just a little closer, “that you like being the center of attention. And I think you’re not used to people seeing through that.”
Satoru blinked, the playful glint in his eyes dimming just slightly, replaced by something more genuine, more intrigued. “And what do you see when you look at me?”
You paused, considering your answer, letting the silence stretch just long enough to keep him guessing. “I see someone who likes to keep people at a distance. Someone who hides a lot behind that smile.”
He tilted his head, his expression softer now, almost contemplative. “And you think you know what I’m hiding?”
You shrugged. “Not yet. But I think you might want someone to try and figure it out.”
For a moment, he was quiet, watching you with those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see everything and yet reveal nothing. Then, slowly, he smiled—a softer, more sincere smile than before. “Maybe I do.”
The tension in the room shifted again, this time to something less tangible, a mix of curiosity and possibility hanging in the air between you. The game had become secondary; it was clear now that something deeper was at play. Satoru leaned back, his grin returning, though his eyes were still searching for yours.
“Alright, doll.” he said, voice vibrant and light. “One more hand. Winner takes all.”
“All?” you echoed, arching an eyebrow. “And what exactly is ‘all,’ Satoru?”
He leaned forward again, his smile turning mischievous. “That’s the fun part—we get to decide. Maybe it’s another game. Maybe it’s just a walk under the stars. Or maybe…”
“Maybe?” you prompted, leaning in as well, feeling the pull between you tighten.
“Maybe, doll….” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper now, “it’s just finding out who you really are, and why you make me feel like I’ve met you before, even though I’m sure I haven’t.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected honesty in his words. This was not the Gojo Satoru you’d expected, not quite. But maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something neither of you had anticipated.
“Deal.” you said finally, holding out your hand for him to shake.
He took it, his grip warm and firm. “Deal.”
You felt the warmth of his hand linger longer than necessary, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. Neither of you pulled away, your hands still clasped together, as if testing each other’s resolve.
“Are you trying to distract me?” you teased, but your voice came out softer than you intended, betraying the flutter of anticipation building in your chest.
Satoru’s smile widened, a hint of something darker and more thrilling sparking in his eyes. “Is it working?” he asked, his voice low and velvety, closer now, his breath brushing against your skin.
You held his gaze, feeling the air between you grow thick with tension, the kind that made your pulse quicken. “Maybe a little.” you admitted, and his grin grew even more wicked.
He didn’t release your hand, instead using it to pull you closer across the small table, until you were only inches apart. “Good.” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. “Because I’m curious… What else could I do to distract you?”
Before you could answer, his free hand reached up, his fingers lightly tracing the line of your jaw, his touch gentle but purposeful. “I’ve got a few ideas.” he continued, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, his eyes following the movement like he was memorizing every detail.
Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as his fingers moved down, tracing the curve of your neck, his touch feather-light but sending sparks of heat through your veins. “You talk a big game,” you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady, “but can you back it up?”
His eyes flashed with amusement and something else—something darker, hungrier. “Oh, I think you’ll find I’m very good at keeping my promises.” he replied softly, leaning in until his lips were a breath away from yours. “Especially the fun ones.”
And then, without warning, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft at first, almost teasing, before deepening with a sudden intensity that made your head spin. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, and you felt the world around you disappear, leaving just the heat of his mouth, the press of his body against yours.
You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palms. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that sent a rush of heat through your body, your skin tingling everywhere he touched.
He broke the kiss, just enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re full of surprises,” before diving back in, his kiss rougher this time, more insistent. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap in one swift movement. You gasped against his mouth, feeling the firmness of his body beneath you, the heat of his skin through the fabric of your clothes.
Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging just hard enough to elicit a low groan from him, a sound that sent a delicious thrill through you. “Satoru.” you breathed, his name slipping from your lips like a secret, and his response was a grin against your mouth, wicked and knowing.
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice a low rumble in his chest, his hands roaming up your back, sliding under your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that left trails of fire in their wake.
You didn’t answer, just kissed him harder, pressing your body against his, feeling the heat building between you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap. His lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you gasp, your head tilting back to give him more access.
He chuckled softly, his breath hot against your neck. “Sensitive, are we?” he teased, but his voice was strained, as if he was barely holding himself back. His hands slid lower, gripping your hips and pressing you down against him, letting you feel exactly how much he wanted you.
You let out a soft moan, your fingers gripping his shoulders for support. “Maybe,” you whispered, your voice breathless. “But I think you like that.”
He laughed, a low, husky sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, I do,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “I like everything about you… so far.”
You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, seeing the raw desire there, the need that mirrored your own. “Then maybe, Satoru, baby.” you whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against his, “You should stop talking and show me.”
He grinned, a wicked, knowing grin that made your heart race. “Challenge accepted, doll.” he said, and then his lips were on yours again, his kiss consuming, his hands exploring, leaving no part of you untouched, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of you.
You looked at him and grinned. “Let me make you feel good, boy.”
“Make it happen then, lovely.” He steps out of his pants and you sink to your knees on the plush carpet beneath you, licking your lips as he frees his member.. Your eyes meeting him.
You held his gaze, your grin widening as you saw the anticipation flicker in his eyes, a mix of mischief and hunger that mirrored your own. “Oh, I will,baby.” you promised, your voice a low purr that seemed to send a shiver down his spine.
You let your gaze trail down his body, taking in the sight of his lean, toned form before letting your eyes settle on his length, now freed and hard. A spark of excitement danced through you, and you licked your lips, feeling a wave of heat wash over you as you dropped to your knees on the plush carpet, every movement slow and deliberate, keeping his attention locked on you.
Satoru watched you, his breath hitching, and you could feel his intense gaze on you, almost like a physical touch. Your hands reached up, fingertips brushing lightly against his thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms as you leaned in, your breath ghosting over his length. His eyes widened slightly, a soft exhale escaping his lips, and you could tell he was already on edge, trying to maintain his composure.
You looked up at him through your lashes, meeting his gaze with a wicked grin. “Ready, Satoru?” you teased, your voice soft and sultry, letting the anticipation build for a moment longer.
His eyes darkened, a soft growl escaping him. “Stop teasing, doll.” he muttered, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders, his fingers tightening slightly, betraying his eagerness. “Do your worst.”
Without another word, you leaned in, your tongue flicking out to tease the tip, tasting the salty bead of pre-cum that had formed there. Satoru sucked in a breath, his hips jerking slightly at the contact, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the effect you were already having on him.
Slowly, you wrapped your lips around him, taking him inch by inch into your mouth, savoring the weight of him on your tongue, the way he filled your mouth completely. His hand moved to your hair, fingers threading through your strands, not pushing, but just holding, grounding himself in the sensation of your warm mouth around him.
You started to move, your mouth sliding up and down his length with slow, deliberate strokes, your tongue swirling around him, adding just enough pressure to draw soft, breathy moans from his lips. You glanced up at him, his head tipped back slightly, his mouth parted as he tried to keep his breathing steady.
“Fuck…..” he breathed, his voice strained, the hand in your hair tightening just a bit. “That’s… you’re good at this…”
You hummed around him, a low, vibrating sound that made his hips twitch, his fingers tightening in your hair. You felt a surge of triumph, your movements becoming bolder, faster, as you took him deeper, letting him feel the heat, the slick slide of your mouth, the way your lips tightened around him.
Satoru’s breathing grew heavier, and you could hear the soft sounds of pleasure escaping his lips, his usual confidence wavering under the intensity of your attention. His hips began to move with you, small thrusts that pushed him deeper into your mouth, and you welcomed it, matching his rhythm, taking him deeper still.
You felt his muscles tense under your hands, heard the low growl building in his throat, his fingers gripping your hair tighter as if he were holding on for dear life. “God… you’re driving me crazy, doll.” he muttered, his voice thick with desire, his control slipping.
You pulled back slightly, just enough to speak, your breath warm against his length. “Good.” you whispered, your voice a husky murmur, “because I’m not stopping until you come undone for me, Satoru.”
He looked down at you, his eyes blazing with need, and you saw a flicker of surrender there, a flash of vulnerability that made your heart race. “Then don’t stop, doll.” he whispered back, his voice a low command. “Make me lose control.”
You grinned up at him before taking him back into your mouth, your movements faster, more deliberate, determined to bring him to the edge and push him over. You felt his body tighten, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his hips thrusting in time with your movements, and you knew he was close.
With a few more strokes, a few more swirls of your tongue, you felt him shudder, his whole body tensing as he let out a low, deep moan, his release hitting hard and fast. His hand tightened in your hair as he rode out the waves of pleasure, his breathing heavy, his eyes closed, his lips parted in a satisfied grin.
You pulled back slowly, watching him as he came down, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his skin flushed, his hair tousled. He opened his eyes, a lazy smile spreading across his face, his gaze soft and full of something you couldn’t quite place.
“Damn.” he breathed, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re… something else.”
You smiled, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb, feeling a flush of your own. “Told you I’d make you feel good.” you replied, your voice light, teasing.
He chuckled, pulling you up to your feet and closer to him, his hands resting on your hips. “I think you’ve more than proven your point.” he murmured, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss against your lips, his smile warm against your mouth. “But now… it’s my turn.”
A soft gasp escapes your lips as his touch moves with a deliberate, tender pressure. The sensation sends ripples of pleasure through you, making your breath hitch. Your back arches instinctively, your body pressing closer to his. Every touch, every movement feels electric, your emotions swirling in a beautiful, overwhelming storm.
His lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Each kiss feels like a spark, igniting a fire that grows with every passing second. His hands glide along your back, pulling you closer still, as if he wants to feel every inch of you against him. Your breath quickens, matching the rhythm of your racing heartbeat.
His gaze meets yours, a mix of tenderness and something deeper, something that makes your heart flutter. “I want to make you feel everything, baby doll.” he whispers, his voice low and filled with promise.
You feel a surge of anticipation, your senses heightened, every touch sending a shiver down your spine. He takes his time, exploring every curve and contour, as if memorizing you. You’re lost in the sensation, in the way he makes you feel cherished, wanted, and entirely his. The world fades away, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared intimacy and unspoken connection.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, and he responds with a soft, satisfied hum, his smile widening against your skin. “Stay with me, ‘toru.” you breathe, the words escaping almost involuntarily, a plea and a declaration all at once.
His hold on you tightens, and he nods, his eyes filled with an emotion so intense it takes your breath away. “Always.” he promises, sealing his vow with another lingering kiss that sends a wave of warmth through your entire being.
His hands roam down your sides with a deliberate slowness, tracing every curve as if savoring the feel of you beneath his fingertips. His touch is both gentle and insistent, a wordless reminder of the connection between you. As his lips move back to yours, the kiss deepens, becoming more passionate, more consuming, his tongue teasing yours in a dance that sets your nerves alight.
You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his warmth enveloping you like a blanket. Every movement is careful yet filled with an undeniable urgency. His fingers slip beneath the fabric of your clothes, his touch sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. Your breaths mingle, becoming heavier, the room thick with the electric charge of your shared desire.
He pulls back just enough to study your face, his gaze intense and filled with a hunger that sends a thrill through you. “You’re so beautiful, doll.” he murmurs, his voice husky with emotion. “Every part of you.” His hands move lower, caressing the sensitive skin of your waist, drawing a soft sigh from your lips.
You could feel the edges of your nails dig deep into Satoru’s back, leaving red marks once after another in the canvas of his supple skin. Each breath comes out in a shaky gasp, and you can feel him shiver beneath your touch, his skin heating under your fingertips. He groans softly at the sensation, the sound vibrating against your lips as he kisses you deeply, hungrily.
“‘Toru…baby….” you gasp out between moans, voice trembling with need. “You feel so good, goddddd…”
Your hips move instinctively against his hand, seeking that delicious friction, chasing the elusive climax that seems tantalizingly close but always just out of reach. You wondered where he has been all your life, where has this pleasure been all your life.
He smiles against your lips, his voice a low whisper, almost teasing. “I’ve got you, doll.” he murmurs, his fingers pressing deeper, moving with a slow, rhythmic intensity that makes you cry out softly. “Let me take you there.”
Satoru’s thumb circles gently, adding a different sensation, his eyes fixed on yours, watching every expression, every shudder of pleasure that passes over your face. His other hand is firm on your waist, guiding your movements, coaxing you closer, pulling you toward that edge with a deliberate slowness that drives you mad.
You feel the tension build inside you, every nerve ignited by his touch, his name spilling from your lips in a breathless whisper. “Satoru… baby....please…” you beg, the need in your voice is unmistakable.
He chuckles softly, his breath hot against your ear. “I love hearing you say my name like that, doll.” he whispers, his touch becoming more insistent, more purposeful. The heat between you grows, every sensation amplified by the intensity of the moment, his pace quickening, matching the desperate rhythm of your heartbeat.
Your body arches toward him, every inch of you attuned to his movements, and you feel yourself spiraling, that sweet ache within you growing sharper, hotter. His fingers find that perfect spot, and suddenly, you’re lost to the wave of pleasure that crashes over you, your body trembling, a moan of pure ecstasy escaping your lips as Gojo holds you close, his name a soft prayer on your lips.
“I’ll eat you out later, doll. I promise.” Satoru whispers against your ear, his voice laced with a playful promise that sends a shiver down your spine. “But right now… I need to be inside you.”
He positions himself between your spread legs, leaning down to tease the head of his member against your hungry, slick folds, rubbing himself gently against you. Each movement is torturously slow, spreading your wetness across both of you, the friction drawing a gasp from your lips. He watches your reactions with a smirk, his bright blue eyes darkened with desire.
Looking up at you, Satoru grins, his expression mischievous and full of intent. “Let’s do something else for now.” he murmurs, his voice low and inviting. He starts to push into you slowly, stretching you inch by inch, his gaze never leaving yours.
The sensation is overwhelming, your body instinctively arching to take him deeper. You can feel every part of him, the way he fills you perfectly, the way your body molds around him. His hands grip your hips, steadying you as he moves further, a low groan escaping his throat. “You feel incredible, baby doll.” he breathes, his voice rough with pleasure, his control hanging by a thread.
Your nails dig even harder into his shoulders as he continues to push in, stretching you, filling you completely. He pauses for a moment, letting you adjust, his forehead pressed against yours.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, his breath hot against your lips, his voice softer, seeking reassurance even amidst his own urgency.
You nod, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. “I’m okay… more than okay, ‘toru.” you murmur, a breathy moan escaping you as he begins to move again, slowly pulling back before thrusting in, setting a rhythm that makes your toes curl.
His pace quickens, each thrust more intense, more deliberate, as if he’s determined to draw every sound, every sigh, from your lips. His name falls from your mouth in a mix of gasps and pleas, and he responds with a low growl, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss.
Satoru’s hands wander, one sliding up to cradle the back of your neck, the other gripping your hip, guiding you into his rhythm. Every movement feels perfectly timed, perfectly in sync, as if he knows exactly what you need, where to touch, how to move to drive you to the brink of ecstasy.
“God, I love the way you feel, doll.” he murmurs, his voice rough and desperate, his forehead pressing against yours as his pace becomes relentless, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. Your body tightens around him, drawing him deeper, the heat between you building to a crescendo, and you feel yourself start to unravel.
“Don’t hold back.” he urges, his voice thick with need, his eyes locked on yours. “Let go, doll… I want to feel you come undone.”
And with those words, everything inside you shatters in a wave of pure, overwhelming pleasure. Your body trembles, your breath catches, and you call out his name, your world reduced to the feeling of him moving within you, holding you, as you both reach for that beautiful, shared climax.
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶
epilogue
You were exhausted. But you still had a curfew and your mother would be looking for you by now. When Satoru heard that, he immediately jumped up and said he'll take you home.
As you both fumbled to put your clothes back on in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, Gojo’s mischievous grin didn’t fade for a second. His white shirt was still unbuttoned, hanging off one shoulder, and his pants were inside out — not that he seemed to care.
You tugged your shirt over your head, smoothing down your hair with a breathless laugh. "You look like you got dressed in the dark." you teased, glancing at the ridiculous state of his attire.
Gojo chuckled, leaning in to nuzzle your neck, his lips brushing against your ear. "Well, to be fair, I was a bit distracted by you, doll."
Rolling your eyes, you gave his chest a light push. "Sure, blame me for your lack of coordination."
He winked and, with a dramatic flair, flipped his sunglasses back on, even though it was well past midnight. "Oh, definitely. It’s always your fault when I can't keep my hands to myself."
You both burst into laughter, the absurdity of the situation washing over you. Finally, Gojo took a deep breath, still grinning but with a hint of sincerity creeping into his voice. "So… now that I've seen you at your best — and, uh, at your most undressed — how about a date?"
You blinked, caught off guard. "A date? Like… a normal date?"
He nodded, his expression surprisingly earnest despite the disheveled hair and the inside-out pants. "Yeah, you know, the kind where I take you out, we eat something that isn't each other, maybe even talk about our feelings."
You snorted, trying to stifle your giggles. "You sure you can handle that, Satoru? The whole talking thing sounds like a lot of work for you."
He dramatically clutched his chest as if wounded. "Ouch, doll, that hurt. But yes, I think I could manage… if it means I get to see you smile like that again."
You pretended to consider it for a moment, then shrugged, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Fine. But I’m picking the place, and you’re wearing your pants the right way this time."
Gojo laughed, pulling you into his arms. "Deal. As long as you promise to wear something that makes me lose at poker again."
You smirked, leaning in close. "Oh, I think I can arrange that."
And as you both laughed, tangled in each other’s arms, the idea of a "normal" date didn't sound so bad after all.
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theres no one left to blame but me
husband!arlecchino x wife!reader wlw smut
a long awaited and requested continuation / part 2 of cold nights !
tw : fluff/comfort, soft-ish arle, happy ending :), she apologies, rushed smut near the end, service top-ish arle, arle has a cock, angsty near the start, little bit of crying out of relief?, icl there is so much filler, not proof read, sorry this took ages to post sob
art creds : nuiilar on twt
6.3k words
the morning after, your eyelids flutter open. the sunlight was peeking through the curtains, onto the white bedsheets. you feel disoriented and completely out of it. you found yourself in a warm, comfortable bed. a contrast to where you remember you rested last night. you found yourself in your shared room.. except, it hadn't really been shared at all lately. as memories of last night start to cloud your mind, you immediately sit up and turn to your right.
to your disappointment, the other side of the bed was empty.. as usual. you feel like a fool for getting your hopes up. the fact she was too prideful enough to show her face to you, made your already existing pit of emptiness dig deeper into you heart. or so thats what you thought.
perhaps it was because you had drained most of your sorrows out last night.
with an exhausted sigh you ran a hand through your hair as your head lowered to idly stare down at the covers. the bedsheets were intoxicated with arlecchino's sickening cologne, even though she hadn't even been here in a while. her cologne made your head spin. you furrow your eyebrows as you sat in the dark room. your eyes glance at the clock on the bedside table. it was 6:17am. arlecchino would of left around an hour ago already..
shame, she didn't even leave a note or anything to apologise.
you don't feel like doing anything today. you just wanted to stay in bed and drown yourself in your worries for the whole day. you feel your lips curl into a frown knowing you will probably have to continue the day alone again. you force yourself off the cozy bed. your legs feel shaky.. you feel light headed as your vision blurs into momentary darkness as you stood up. god, had she really affected you that much? .
you lightly swing the door open and hazily walk into the long hallway. the hallway seemed to stretch on far more than you recalled it to. your eyes glaze over memorable photos of you and arlecchino etched onto the wall. golden frames bordering the beautiful person arlecchino used to be. you pass down the gallery of these, now, lost memories, the connection of these precious memories you used to hold so close to your heart, now feels like a lost, distant dream you yearn for.
you felt nauseous as reality dawns upon you. the truth weighing down into your already crushed heart. the memories flooding into you all at once did no good for you. each photo carried a different, loving memory from when arlecchino was genuinely.. peruere.
your head ached from the overload of contrasting feelings. the passion she once invested in you had vanished along with her love for you, it seemed. the flames she bares that once ignited your vulnerable heart, is forever extinguished. the arlecchino you once knew and loved, had faded into the chambers of her own cold, restricted heart. you couldn’t recognise her anymore.
you lazily dragged yourself down the stairs to avoid any signs of her. as you do, you could smell pancakes being cooked in the kitchen. you assume it's just another house maid. you tiredly walk in with your head lowered, not bothering to look up to see who it was, as you had already, mentally, came up with your final verdict.
you sit in the dining room, just passing kitchen and whoever was in there. you were too clouded to even bother figuring out who it was. you rest your elbow on the table and your chin in your palm. your eyes casted down on the table. suddenly, a small stack of pancakes with no toppings on them whatsoever was slid in front of you. you knew exactly who it was.
arlecchino's gaze rolled over your face as she slid you the plate. her eyes narrowed, they were still as cold as ever. she knew you clearly hadn't had a good night of sleep. your expression was weary and your face puffy. a sharp pang of remorse took ahold of her once more. she couldn't bare to see the sight of you, completely drained of all happiness, because of her. she knew she couldn't drag this on any longer.
she gently place the silverware on the side of the plate. you noticed the gleam of her ring shining under light for a moment. your eyebrows furrow slightly. she wore the ring you brought her. it gave you a slight sense of relief. yet you still don't dare to look at her face. not yet at least.
"good morning, my dear." her voice echoed slightly through the dining room.
you purse your lips at her words. you can't bring yourself to say 'good morning' back. if it were a good morning, then you would probably still be in bed in her arms. your gaze doesn't wander away from the pancakes in front of you. you feel as she pulls away from behind you to take a seat in front of you with her own plate of pancakes. arlecchino subtly glances at you before taking a bite of her warm, plain pancakes. the silence was deafening. it only raised the tension in the air. deciding to break the ice, she spoke again. her expression was neutral.
"i made pancakes.." she mused once more, as if she wasn't stating the obvious. she really didn't know how to initiate a conversation with you. especially after last night.
you could tell in her voice she was trying hard. you felt your heart pick it's self up at the thought of her attempt to make breakfast and start a conversation. you didn't want to keep being mad at her. hell, you weren't even supposed to be mad at her to begin with. you decided to nod after a long pause of silence. picking up your utensils to start eating the plain pancakes.
despite all of that, you still didn't have the courage to look her in the face.
before you knew it, you both had already finished eating. you didn't want to admit it but you missed her cooking. even if it was plain and tasteless. you both hadn't exchanged a word once. arlecchino couldn't take it anymore. she didn't want to see this distraught look on your face any longer. she leans over the table, her hand firmly, yet so gently, lifting your chin up.
"please, look at me. i cannot stand seeing you like this.." your breath hitches quietly at her sudden action. her words have a hint of softness and desperation in them. her gaze is as firm yet as gentle as her touch. your eyes gaze into her crossed pupils. you find yourself lost in her iris. mesmerising you.
"arle.." you utter quietly under your breath.
"let me make it up to you." she almost pleads. her eyebrows are furrowed, taking in all of your beautiful features. she had to admit, it had been a while since she last saw you properly and so close like this. you feel your throat tighten, her words tugging at your heart strings.
you don't know whether to trust her words anymore. especially after she had been hanging around that new fatui recruit recently. her hand falls from your chin yet your head still stays up to look at her. her rough, blackened hands hold your soft ones. firmly giving it a little squeeze.
"i was wrong. let me take you out to dinner tonight. i promise, i will discard any worries you have." her voice wasn't soft, but nor was it cold. you knew she was never good with expressing her emotions. you feel weary of her proposal. the cool ring you had brought for her was against your hand. the gentle look in her eyes make you give into her pleads. you hesitantly replied after a moment of contemplation.
"okay. i.. will let you take me out for dinner." you reply quietly. your gaze lowering in slight embarrassment. now you really couldn't back out of this. she nods as she hums in response. getting out of her seat to carefully pull you out of your seat. embracing your body in her warm arms, pushing your head against her chest. the smell of her cologne was more prominent than ever.
you felt relief course through your body. the scene of her no longer sickened you. your hands cling onto the t-shirt she's wearing, squeezing the fabric as you feel tears starting to be forced out of your eyes again. her hands reassuringly stroke your hair, her fingertips getting lost in each strand.
"i apologise, my dear. i was wrong." she whispers softly yet hesitantly. all tension that was in the air had disappeared. arlecchino doesn't know if she's comforting you correctly. the feeling just felt so foreign to her. in all honesty, it hurt her to see you like this. she wanted to take your pain away from you. she lets you cry it out in her chest. whispering sweet things every so often. constantly alternating between tangling her fingers in your hair and rubbing comforting circles on your back.
she just hoped her actions were able to get her message, that she cares about you, across to you more than her words are.
soon, the evening came around a lot quicker than you had expected. it had been a while since you've had to doll yourself up to look good for arlecchino. you enjoyed having an excuse to dress up every so often. you decided to put on a elegant white dress and heels on for tonight, hoping to take that stupid, nee fatui recruit off her mind.
arlecchino was already outside, waiting for you as she leaned against her expensive, sleek car. she had dressed up in a elegant suit with small chains in between the buttons. she had a crimson red waistcoat and of course her ridiculous heels. in her arms was a beautiful bouquet of roses. she was mentally hoping she was doing everything right, that she wouldn't say or do anything wrong.
not soon after, as you leave your residence, you are greeted by arlecchino. your breath hitches the second you laid eyes on her, she looked so handsome.. the way she was fiddling around with the roses just to make sure they're perfect. the way she leans against the car. every little thing about her was so captivating. at last, you see her look up at you, slowly walking towards you with that confident stride. god you were absolutely ravishing. she leans down slightly and takes your hand. her rough hand firmly brings your contrasting one to her soft lips, placing a gentle kiss on it. she gazes up at you through her eyelashes. you feel heat rush to your cheeks immediately.
"you look stunning my dear. here, roses, for you." she muses against your hand, keeping her voice even. fuck. you looked so pretty, all dolled up just for her. you feel her light breath against your knuckles before she pulls away, standing back up straight. towering over you as she hands you the perfect bouquet of roses you've ever seen. carefully you take them out of her hands, smiling lightly as you inhaled the floral smell.
it was as if time slowed down. a gentle breeze of the evening air brushed across your faces. arlecchino's lips parted as her gaze softened ever so slightly. she feels all signs of doubt leave her body. the tips of her ears were heating up at your gorgeous smile, no matter how much she tried to hold it back. thankfully for her, her ears were covered by her hair. she hadn't seen your beautiful smile for so long. it wasn't until now she had realised how much she had missed it.
"thank you. you look so beautiful too arle.." you smiled softly. you felt as if you could forgive her already. you hugged the roses carefully in your arms. they smelt good. you noticed how the corner of her lips twitched ever so slightly. how her gaze had also softened. you hadn't seen that look in a while. arlecchino, on the other hand, felt warmth she hadn't felt in a while, bubble up within her chest. deep inside, she felt like a giddy teenager falling for you for the first time all over again. she quickly pulls herself together, clearing her throat.
"come on, we wouldn't want to be late, would we?" she states, wrapping a arm around you waist, walking you to her expensive car. she opens the door for you graciously, urging you to get in first.
you mumbled a small "thank you" to which she replies with a nod. you blush softly at the small yet thoughtful action. she was so.. gentlemanly. arlecchino had such a charming personality, it was drawing you in. you hear as she closes the door on you and makes her way to the drivers seat. the seats were luxurious, made of dark red leather.
her beautiful hands made their way to the steering wheel. the engine roared as it pulled out of the driveway. her attention constantly, yet subtly divided between the road and you. she couldn't help but steal glances towards you from time to time. you looked utterly gorgeous tonight. her predatory gaze would always wander to your beautiful legs, perfectly exposed when you're wearing a dress. before immediately sticking to the road. no. she couldn't be thinking of such things. she had to properly make it up to you first.
the car ride in general was quiet. it was a comforting yet pleasant silence. you didn't mind it. you looked out the window, watching the city go past you. the shadows of tall skyscrapers and light, emitting from lit up buildings, towering over the city, flicker onto the car. giving it a beautifully shadowed hue.
it wasn't soon before arlecchino drove into a car park of an expensive looking restaurant. it was one you knew people waited over months just to get an reservation. the car comes to an stop. arlecchino gives you a soft glance before she got out of the car. walking over to open the door for you. her hand extended out to you with a gentle yet firm gaze. you smile softly as you take her hand. getting out the car. she keeps her hand in yours, leading you into the luxurious restaurant.
as arlecchino led you into the restaurant, she noticed the going quieter than it was before. everyone there looking at the two of you. numerous whispers and glances were spilling around the groups of people. you could tell that they were looking at you, of course. you looked beautiful in your dress, you were like eye candy. most people also recognised arlecchino, the knave. wondering why she was here with such a pretty girl.
arlecchino didn't bother to act polite in front of other people. she gave the patrons a cold, vicious glare as they looked in your direction. she didn't like it. she didn't like how everyone's eyes were all on you. you were hers and she was yours. arlecchino could almost feel the anxiousness imploding your mind currently. her arm wrapping around your waist firmly once more. pulling you in closer to her, as if telling everyone who you belonged to.
"just ignore them. they don't matter." she mumbles lowly into your ear, as if trying to reassure you. you let a quiet breath, you didn't know you were holding, out at her words. you stop tensing up and relax as you feel her hands squeeze your waist subtly.
as the gazes of the other patrons disperse, arlecchino makes her high status known, just by an glance from the waiters. the restaurant's staff instantly catered to her high status, treating her with upmost respect and almost fear. you two are instantly escorted to the table. it was next to a breathtaking view of the sunset. as the sun's rays fell upon your skin, it accentuated your beauty, making your face glow. arlecchino could not pull her eyes off of you. she was absolutely captivated by you. you were absolutely gorgeous..
as the two of you settle into your seats, menu's are handed out as the waiter leaves you for some time alone. arlecchino glazes over the menu. carefully reading over everything. in her mind, she hopes this dinner will be able to clear most things up. her eyes glanced up at you, who was also reading the menu. she was determined to make this dinner meaningful and memorable for you. she wanted to make up to you. no, she had to.
"order anything you fancy, my dear." arlecchino said before taking a glance back at the menu.
"alright.. thank you, arle." your lips curl in a light smile. eventually the two of you ordered drinks and food. arlecchino ordering a steak tartare and you just a steak yourself. the two of you ordered red wine. arlecchino made sure to watch your alcohol intake. arlecchino could always handle her alcohol really well, but you, on the other hand, was quite a light drinker. she didn't want you to get wasted.
she lifts her glass of wine. "cheers?" she pushes her glass towards you.
"cheers!" you laugh out softly at her slight awkwardness. your glasses made a small clink. you see the small, reassured smile on her face as you both take a sip. you feel the expensive liquid burn your throat. arlecchino watched as you downed your wine with a smile. she could tell that the alcohol was already starting to ease you up. that's good. it only meant you're enjoying yourself and she has fewer chances to mess things up.
"wow.. it's really good." you muse, your gaze relaxed. there seemed to not be as much tension as before. when she noticed your gaze relaxed, she took it as a sign that things were turning out alright. arlecchino was relieved.
"of course, only the best for you, my love." she murmurs back. her voice has a softer edge to it now. her hand reaching over to yours. placing it on top of your hand lovingly. you feel your gaze soften more in awe at her affection. it had been a while since she had treated you so well like this.
she lowers her gaze momentarily. her lips parting before closing back up again. god she didn't know how to start. she had to stop avoiding her thoughts and apologise already.
"i.. apologise again, for my actions lately." she stammers out suddenly. she looks at you right in the eyes as she says this. you know she was being sincere.
"i shouldn't of forgotten such an important date like our anniversary and neglected you for such a long period of time." she pauses momentarily. her eyebrows furrowing as she pulls her thoughts together. trying to get the sting of words bundled up in her throat right out. the sight of your crying again broke her heart. she never wanted to see you cry, because of her ever again. her hand squeezes yours subtly.
"moreover, that fatui recruit.. she means nothing to me. i mean it. you deserve nothing but pure happiness. and i promise, i will do everything, and anything for you because i love you. more than i can ever explain." her words are firm and gentle. you feel your heart warm up at her words. you knew she never liked to speak up, she was prideful and was never good with her words. you couldn't be angry at her any longer.
"arle.. just.. promise you won't do it again." you reply softly. your eyebrows furrowed still, in slight uneasiness until she confirms it herself. her words were most definitely touching your heart. her words were so genuine.
she brings your hand up to her face. your hand cupping the side of her cheek lightly. "i swear on the tsarita's name, my love." she replies with an gentle tone. her eyes were glazing into yours. arlecchino knew that she was practically begging for forgiveness right now, and she hated it. buy she wants your forgiveness, she needs your forgiveness. seeing you so upset, hurts her more than anything.
your breath hitches at her sudden gesture. her face was so warm, her skin milky soft. god she was breathtaking right now.
"i.. forgive you, arle." you breathe out. you feel all tension leave your body. you can feel your own heart beating again. thumping hard against your chest. you feel like you've fallen in love with her for the first time all over again.
"thank you, my love. i don't deserve you." she whispers softly against your palm. her body visibly relaxes. she feels her heart flutter in her chest. her ears heating up again. she hadn't fucked everything over in the end. she was so afraid of losing you after that night. she can never let things get that bad ever again.
unfortunately for the both of you, your intimate moment was cut short when a waiter arrived with your meal, much to arlecchino's annoyance. shame.. arlecchino wanted to bask in your forgiveness and sweet words just a little longer. you pulled your hand away, feeling embarrassed that the waiter had seen how close you were with her. you hoped you hadn't made arlecchino seem soft. not that she actually minded it.
your eyes widened in awe at the food placed onto the wooden table. it looked absolutely delicious. it smelt amazing. it was of high quality and was luxurious. the harbinger couldn't help but feel a slight irritation that your tender and heartfelt moment was ruined. she would much rather be lost in your eyes and touch right now. but she couldn't stay mad, especially when she saw the adorable look on your face.
once you thanked the waiter with a sweet smile and arlecchino with a stoic nod, they left. as we picked up the utensils, arlecchino glanced at me once more.
"i hope the meal is up to your standards, my dear."
and oh god it was. the rich flavours of the steak was literally melting on your tongue. taking sips of alcohol in between. the two of you had a nice conversation. you hadn't had that in a while. it felt like you were catching up on her life despite living together.t wasn't soon before you were finished with your meal. arlecchino would just nod, setting the napkin down saying something along the lines of "not bad. would be better without these.. complex seasonings."
it wasn't long before found yourself inebriated with alcohol despite how much arlecchino limited your alcohol intake. your cheeks were slightly flushed red. your eyes half lidded with that small pouty look on your face. your words would slur and you would sway side to side in your seat. trying, what seemed to be your best, to sit up straight in your seat. you would babble on about random topics.
arlecchino watched you quickly fall under the influence. sighing out with a small smile. completely adoring your drunken self. what an 'handful' for arlecchino to deal with..
arlecchino practically dragged you out your seat and into her arms. helping your drunken self stumble out the restaurant. her hand was on your waist firmly as she helped you into the car. everything was a blur. your mind was clouded and you felt all floaty. by the time you both reached the front door, you were already heavily leaning on her, having trouble walking straight alone. arlecchino helped you to the bed. your felt your body lightly laid you down onto the soft covers of the bed.
you were mumbling and giggling, completely drunk. she found you absolutely endearing in this state. she smiled faintly as she pushed some strands of hair out your face. god you looked heavenly right now. your silky hair was sprawled out on the bed. your lips were slightly parted with your head tilted to the side a little. your half lidded eyes gazing drunkly into her sober ones. the red streak of blush across your face only accentuated your drunkness.
"come on, let's get you to bed-" she mumbles before getting cut off by you tugging her down by her collar. your faces so close together. arlecchino's breath hitches at your sudden action and the sudden closeness.
"arle.. wan' you.. to apologise in.. another way.." you slur out quietly. your eyebrows furrowing. you are completely out of it. you sloppily lift your hips to lightly and not to subtly grind on hers.
oh.. she gets the hint. she feels her ears and cheeks heat up some more now. she feels her dick harden in her pants. she feels so.. tight and restricted. the air was so hot in here. one of her hands find their way to the side of your hips and lightly push them down. trying to be reasonable with your drunken self.
"dear, your drunk, you need to sleep-" arlecchino is cut off once more when you pull her head down to smash her lips on yours. arlecchino groans against your hips. she knows you want this and now she does too. her tongue enters your mouth as you let out a small muffled moan, your eyes fluttering closed. her lips were so soft. her lips made you feel more dizzier than you already were. her hands run down your back, feeling the smooth fabric of your dress underneath her fingertips. she reaches up to the zipper and pulls it down with sudden urgency.
she pulls her lips away, leaving you both breathless. she doesn't waste another second, tugging the dress off of you. her eyes roam all over your body hungrily. your eyelashes flutter open. in your hazy vision you see arlecchino drinking in the sight of you in your lace undergarments. her self-control snapping at the sight of that lace on your body
"all this for me? such a eager girl.." she smirks. you feel heat rush up to your core. you subtly rub your thighs with a whine. needing her so badly right now.
"tell me what you want sweet girl.. i'm all yours tonight.." she mumbles lowly into your ear.
"need you.. now.. pleaseeee.." you huff out. she could feel the heat pooling between her legs as you huff out those words. you looked so beautiful and sensual begging for her, it was driving her crazy. she knows she should be nice to you today, so she gives you want you want. she dips down to your neck, hungrily biting down and sucking sweetly on your neck. eliciting light moans from your throat. she leaves a trail of light red marks down your neck. losing the last bit of restraint she had.
her fingers carefully unclasp your bra. her hands moving swiftly to slide the lace off of you in anticipation. your tittys were hard, just for her. you shiver slightly at the coldness. arlecchino sucks in a breath at the sight of your. undressing herself quickly and leaving herself in her boxers. you could see the massive buldge ready to get out of the confides of her boxers. her abs were more prominent in the dark lighting. god she was so hot.
"so beautiful.." arlecchino's tone of voice is throaty and quiet. she leans in and wraps her lips around your nipple. you let out a quiet breath, moaning sweetly. your body was so sensitive from alcohol. arlecchino's actions barely registering in your mushy mind.
her other hand pinches and rolls and pulls on your other nipple in between her fingers. making the pleasure so much higher. she sucks on your nipple sweetly, relishing your moans before pulling away. her hand slowly slides down your body, her touch tracing a trail of fire on your skin. she can feel your body shiver slightly under her touch, becoming more desperate every second.
her hand dips down to your clothed cunt. you were absolutely soaked for her. she rubs her thumb on where your clit is. making your hips spasm and lean into her. your eyes fluttering closed as she forces a hoarse moan from you.
"stop.. eat me.. out already.." you whine out desperately. she smirks, complying with your needs and pulls your spoiled underwear aside. her hands hold your thighs and open them. keeping them open firmly as her long, wet muscle gives a long lick to your wet hole so.. slowly. making you shiver against her. your thighs wanting to close around her head.
"stop.. teasing.." you whine out drunkly. your hand finds their way to her head as you push her head into your cunt. you feel her lips curl up as her tongue enter your warm walls. she feels your walls spasms around her tongue. making her groan into your cunt. an vibrating hit your pussy as you throw you head back in pleasure.
"f-faster arle.." you huff out, your word slurring, in pleasure. your grip on her hair is weak in your sensitive drunk state. her nose nudges against your clit so perfectly.
she picks up the pace, devouring your pussy with her mouth. her tongue pumping in and out of your tight hole. making loud slurping noises and you push her head unto your pussy more.
"n..ngh.. more..!" you pant out, your breath shaky, rolling your hips into her mouth more. arlecchino obeys, shoving her face deeper into you. her nose buried into your folds as she sucks and eats your cunt. her hands move from your thighs to your folds and lightly pull them apart. giving her better access to your dripping hole. your thighs squeeze against her head in desperation. arlecchino groans at the feeling, against your wet cunt as she grinds her cock into the bed. fuck she so was desperate but your needs came first.
you pornagraphic moans only fuel her drive more. the way you tugged on her hair closer to you, only turned up the intensity of your pleasure more. you feel like your on cloud nine right now, feeling that coil in your stomach form. "close..!" you'd pant out, eyes rolling back in pleasure.
"go on then, pretty girl.." arlecchino's lip curl up into a smile against your pussy. you let out a high pitched moan, smashing her face into your cunt and your thighs squeeze her head as your orgasm washes over you. arlecchino felt your pussy clenching around her tongue and trembling against her mouth, your cum gushing out in streams. she groans at the cum all over her face, lapping it right up before pulling away with a string of saliva on her tongue. her chin absolutely dripping in your release.
she has a light smirk on her face, clearly pleased with your orgasm, as she wipes your release on her arm. you feel all light headed after you came, the alcohol influencing you for more. arlecchino pulled her boxers down, her massive cock springing out and slapping against her stomach. fuck, she was absolutely leaking with pre-cum. you looked at her cock in awe. arlecchino kisses you sweetly, you could taste yourself on her tongue. her erection was hard, poking right into your thigh.
she pulls away, gently pushing a strand of hair in your face out the way. gazing into your half lidded eyes.
"i'll go slow.. tell me how you'd like it, okay?" she mumbles softly. you nod, letting out a small hum of agreement.
"theres my girl.." she trails off, holding her cock in her hand as she rubs it all over your wet slit. smearing your wet juices all over her, coating her cock in your cum. your pussy twitches at her rubbing her cock all over you. she peppers sweet kisses on your forehead as she starts to push her hard cock into your tight little hole slowly. her thick cock spreads your walls apart, sinking deeper into your soaked cunt. she groans, "come on.. relax.." feeling your walls flutter around her at the intrusion, clenching down on her.
you let out little mewls. she was just so.. big. you felt stuffed to the brim. your eyes flutter shut as her thumb comes in contact with your clit. rubbing your little bundle of nerves to loosen your cunt up. your walls spasm against her length as she rubs on your clit. immediately loosening yourself up as she pushes the rest in, lightly in one fluid motion. you felt your vision turn white for a second as your hips snapped together. arlecchino lets out a deep growl at how your gummy walls pulse around her. you felt her cock spear your pussy, pressing right up to your cervix. you were so stretched out by her.
you find yourself trying to catch your breath as arlecchino whispers sweet things to you. telling you how good you are for her and how well your doing. she allows you to adjust to her massive size for as long as long as you need to. after a short while, you give her a small nod as you start to get used to her girth.
"i'm going to move now, alright?" she mumbles lowly yet sweetly, her hands holding your hips firmly as she pulls back. her hips part from yours before she slowly rocks her hips. thrusting in and out of your warm walls. you let out a shaky breath at her size and how she hit the right spots so effortlessly. she growls, it took everything to hold back her urge to just throw your legs over her shoulder and pound you to oblivion. god she was so compliant, taking you slowly, just as she promised, just like the good husband she wants to be.
her pace picks up to a bearable one. her fat cock brushes your cervix so easily, the sounds of her grunts and the sound of skin slapping sounded so good. your eyebrows furrow in pleasure when she hits your good spot, she notices this, continuously pumping her cock into it. arlecchino starts to lose her restraint, her hands on your hips tighten as her pace picks up some more. her breath starts getting ragged. the room smelled like sex, your drunken self already had your brains fucked out. she starts thrusting with more fervour, the intense slapping of skin was heard. your walls spasm around her fat cock at the filthy sounds.
you get breathless, arlecchino elicit high pitcher moans from your throat. her relentless pace too much for your drunken self to handle. after some struggle, your arms find their way to her back. your hands grip onto her back, your nails scratching into her back leaving red scratches into her toner back. she grunts at the stinging sensation, turning her on.
"slow.. ngh.. down arle..!" you whine out. your vision starts to cloud in darkness momentarily. she looks up at your pleasured face through her eyelashes and her rough, ruthless pace was now at an slower, loving pace. her grip on your hips loosen. arlecchino knows your close from how your walls are so beautifully squeezing her.
"come on, come with me pretty girl.." she groans out in pleasure. as you feel your orgasm wash over, arlecchino pushes herself to the hilt, cumming deep inside of you. you hold her tight, letting out a erotic moan. you was sure enough it was loud enough for the rest of the house maid's finishing up to hear. arlecchino watched as your stomach, full of your mixed cum, bloats. she pumps a few more strokes into you with intentions of fucking her cum straight into your womb.
"so good for me.." she mumbles, kissing your lips gently. you let out small muffled mewls, before she pulls out, pulling away as your your cum is oozing out your pussy. god, what a pretty sight it was. you feel dazed, panting and catching your breath, as you stare up into the ceiling on the brink of passing out from pleasure and the alcohol.
arlecchino helps clean yourselves up, changing the sheets before pulling you into her warm embrace. your head was buried in her neck, your bare bodies pressed against each other. it felt nice, you hadn't felt like this in a while. you found yourself not thinking about anything else, too drunk and blissed out to do so. only barely listening to her praises and the feeling of her peppering kissed on your face and drawing circles on your back. it was easier to fall asleep with her by your side.
"did so well for me hm?" she mumbles lowly with a light smile. arlecchino missed this warmth and the intimacy you two used shared frequently. she watches as you fall asleep in her arms cozily. watching your face in the pure bliss of sleep. usually, on any other day, you would find yourself awake the next morning, alone on a cold bed. but not tonight, or any other night from today forwards, for she will be by your side, embracing your body. the next morning, you will find her hugging you, waking up with you, like a loving husband she wants to be. she promises to treat you so well, with everything she has.
you were to use her, command her and cast her aside. use her as your blade. for she, will always be yours.
these nights, were no longer classed as cold nights.
not anymore.
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