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lovesculprit · 3 months ago

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Kinktober Day 6 - Cockwarming with Zayne

contains: nsfw content:(mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, cockwarming, brief mentions of wedding ring whilst fingering ˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 2.7k

a/n: this is honestly just very soft, can you tell i miss writing fluff?

You sat on the sofa, legs covered by a blanket, while Zayne limped in from the kitchen. The usual composure in his features was softened by the bandages circling his arm and ribs.

He had insisted on making the tea despite your protests, his stubbornness swelling both pride and unease in you.The sight of him moving carefully, his brow slightly furrowed in pain, reminded you just how fragile he could be, despite his strength.

“Hey,” you said softly, putting down your book as he sank onto the couch beside you. “You’re not supposed to be doing much. How are you feeling?”

“Better than I look,” he replied with a faint smile, his voice lacking conviction. “Just a bit sore.” He settled back against the cushions, letting out a quiet sigh as he eased into a more comfortable position.

You leaned in closer, hand finding his as the other trailed along his jaw, brushing your fingers gently across it. “You really should rest. You’re gonna push too hard and your body needs to heal.”

Zayne leaned into your touch, relishing in your warmth. “I just hate feeling…useless,” he admitted. “Sitting around doesn’t feel right.”

“It’s not useless if it’s what you need to get better,” you countered softly, your heart aching for him. You wanted to protect him, to ensure he took the time to recover properly. “Just let yourself relax for now.”

He opened his eyes, locking his gaze with yours. There was a softness there, a vulnerability that made your breath hitch. “What do you suggest we do, then?”

You tilted your head, a smile creeping onto your lips. “How about we just stay here? We can watch a movie or talk…order a takeaway?”

Zayne smiled and there was a spark in his eyes that made your heart race. “Or…” he trailed off, his expression shifting as he moved closer to you too, “We could do something else…” he mumbles, hand moving to your thigh.

You looked up at him at the implication of his words. You were no stranger to the passion between you, or how high his sex drive seemed to be, but you definitely weren’t expecting it with his injuries, it felt different. “You were told not to, we shouldn’t, can’t.”

His lips curved into a gentle smile, one that held more tenderness than desire. “I know,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I’m not asking for too much tonight” He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I just want to be close to you.”

The raw sincerity in his words melted away your resistance. You shifted, leaning into him as he gently pulled you closer, wrapping his good arm around your waist and guiding you to straddle him. His movements were slow, careful, mindful of his injuries, but he held you as tightly as he could manage without wincing.

You nestled into the warmth of his body, resting your head against his shoulder, the steady beat of his heart comforting against your ear. But of course when he said he wanted to be close to you, he didn’t just mean cuddling on the sofa and you were quickly made aware of that fact when his fingers slid from your waist downwards, tracing the edge of your panties.

Zayne’s touch was delicate, almost reverent as he pulled your panties aside and though he was injured you knew better than to argue, after all, he was stubborn when he wanted something. There was a softness in his actions—a slowness that spoke of both tenderness and restraint. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he leaned closer, his lips brushing your temple in a quiet, unspoken promise of care.

You closed your eyes, letting out a soft sigh as his fingers traced slow, languid circles against your clit. His movements were gentle, cautious, as though mindful of his own pain but focused entirely on your pleasure. His ring finger slid along your folds, the cold metal making you shiver as he pulled back slightly to admire the view of his ring disappearing inside your waiting hole.

You felt his body relax against yours, the tension easing from his shoulders, "Just wanna be inside you. Can I? Please-" he murmured, his voice low and husky against your ear. The question was filled with genuine love, and the sound of it sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, unable to form words, your breath hitching as his fingers continued their slow exploration. Your hands wandered his skin, fingers dancing across his collarbone before settling on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His lips found yours in a kiss that was as tender as it was intense, the heat between you simmering just below the surface.

He shifted slightly, careful not to aggravate his injuries, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You could feel the gentle pressure of his fingers against your skin, grounding you in the moment, even as his other hand continued its slow, deliberate strokes, building your pleasure with every gentle circle of his thumb.

Your breath caught in your throat as your body tensed up, but his touch wasn’t rushed. It was as though he wanted to savour every minute, take his time with you. His lips parted from yours long enough for him to whisper against your skin, "I love you," before trailing soft kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck.

His hand finally moved down to his pants and with no hesitation in his movements, he quickly tugged them down past his hips so that he could pull his cock out. It wasn’t thick, but it was long and pretty, the tip glistening already from his pre. His eyes snapped back to yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, and when you gave him a soft, reassuring nod, his body relaxed.

Carefully, you lifted your hips, enough for him to settle his cock at the perfect angle as he positioned himself at your entrance. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping the head on your pussy, smirking at the sound it caused.

Slowly you lowered yourself down onto him, taking it inch by inch as his breaths came in soft, shaky gasps, leaning into you as he entered you slowly. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of heat and tenderness as he filled you completely.

The sound of his quiet groan as he buried himself inside you only made your heart ache with affection for him. You could feel the strain in his muscles, the way his body was fighting to keep moving despite his injuries, but he never wavered in his gentleness. His hands gripped your hips lightly, holding you in place as he was so tempted to move.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice breathless, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly began to, his pace steady and controlled.

You steadied his hips, stopping his movements, “Let’s just stay like this, okay?” you whispered, “I don’t want you making your injuries worse.”

"Of course," he whispered, his voice tender, filled with understanding. His body stilled, the intensity between you shifting into something even more intimate, more comforting. His arms wrapped gently around you, pressing your bodies together, skin to skin, with no need for hurried movement or frantic passion.

You felt the warmth of him wrap itself around you, the cadence of his breathing smoothing your own. The nearness, the fact that you merely existed together, was enough to cause your chest to ache with emotion. His injuries were still on your mind, but right now it was just the two of you together, safe.

You laid your head against his shoulder, your fingers tracing along the bandages wrapped around his arm. The way he was holding you, despite the pain, said so much about how he cared. He wasn't just desperate to be physically close; he needed you with him in a way more profound than words could say.

His hand wandered down your back, lighter than a feather, as if he was committing the feel of you to memory, relishing the quiet moment between you both. There wasn't any hurry for anything else, it was just you two, wrapped up in each other's presence.

"Thank you-," he whispered, his voice low enough that it was barely there. “For everything.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “You don’t have to thank me,” you murmured, your voice warm and tender.

Zayne held you close, his body warm and solid against yours, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the careful way he was holding back, resisting the urge to move. The heat between your bodies was palpable; the connection between you two was so strong that even in the stillness every slight shift of his hips sent a ripple of pleasure through you. He was buried inside you, and though he wasn't moving, the feeling of being so intimately connected, so deep inside you was overwhelming.

You could feel the slight trembling in his arms as he resisted the urge to thrust, tension in his breathing as he concentrated on making his movements slow, measured. His forehead leaned against yours, the heat of his breath against your lips with every shaky exhale. He wanted to move-you could feel it in the way his body responded to yours, the way his fingers tightened slightly on your hips-but he was holding himself back, determined not to push too far, not to aggravate his injuries.

“I’m trying,” he whispered, his voice low and ragged, barely above a breath. “But god it’s really- really hard- especially when you keep clenching around me.”

“I’m sorry- can’t help it-” you mumbled as you shifted slightly, adjusting your hips enough to feel him even deeper inside you, and a soft groan escaped his lips. His hands gripped your waist tighter for a moment, his body trembling with the effort to stay still. The pleasure between you simmered, slow and sweet, the tension in the air thickening as you both savoured the closeness, the quiet intensity of the moment.

His breath hitched as you pressed yourself against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. You could feel how much he wanted to move, how much he wanted to lose himself in you, and fuck you properly like he wanted to, but he was holding back with a kind of tenderness that made your heart swell. His body was warm, solid, and yet so vulnerable beneath your touch.

“I want to,” he murmured, his voice tight with desire, “So badly, just slowly, please-”

His confession, raw and honest, sent another shiver through you. You could feel how hard he was trying to resist the urge to move, to hold back, and that only made the pleasure between you burn hotter.

“You were ordered not to, you should know that better than anyone. Didn’t think you’d ignore medical advice-” you teased, a knowing smile on your face.

Even as he tried to hold himself still, every tiny movement—every shift of your bodies together—was enough to send waves of pleasure coursing through you. The intensity of his presence, the way his body was wrapped around yours, was almost too much to bear. Each subtle twitch, each breathless sigh, sent shivers of heat rolling through you, building slowly but surely.

He clutched at you, fingers digging into your skin like he was holding on for dear life, as though the pleasure was too intense to keep bottled up. "Feels… too good," he whispered, his voice rough, the words barely audible through his ragged breaths. "But I—" Another whimper broke free from his throat, his hips jerking involuntarily.

His body betrayed him, instinctively seeking more, despite the fatigue that was clearly wearing him down. His resistance only made the heat between you grow fiercer, feeding off his vulnerability, his soft sounds of helpless surrender to the sensations wracking his body.

Zayne’s breath hitched as another soft whimper escaped him, his body trembling against yours. “It’s been too long,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion, his words tumbling out as if he couldn't control them. “I haven’t felt you like this… in so fucking long.” His tone was filled with raw vulnerability, his exhaustion evident, but it was as if the floodgates had opened, and he couldn’t stop himself from speaking.

“I missed you,” he admitted, his voice almost a rasp now, punctuated by breathless gasps. “I didn’t realise how much—how much I needed this. How much I needed you.” His fingers tightened around your skin, like he was afraid you might slip away, his desperation palpable.

“It’s too much, I—” Another broken sound slipped from him, his hips stuttering against yours as he pressed closer, like he was trying to fuse your bodies together, his cock twitching at every clench of your walls, your pussy sucking him in for all he’s worth, even as the two of you both tried to remain still.

“Stop doing that- I’m too sensitive right now- god-” His words came out in a frantic rush now, like he was unravelling beneath you, his carefully composed exterior finally crumbling.

Another quiet whine left his throat as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, surrendering completely to the feeling of your pussy gripping him like a vice, like you were doing it on purpose. He couldn’t help the low groan that escaped as Zayne’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling against yours as he clung to you, biting down on your shoulder as his orgasm hit him.

It felt as though fireworks were going through him, his thighs shaking as he came, unable to hold back and whining at the sensitivity when you moved your hips slightly, prolonging the feeling as he sat back and let you.

"I..." His voice was barely above a whisper, muffled against your skin. “I didn't mean for that to happen that fast." He leaned back some, his face flushed, the faintest shade of pink climbing up his neck to his cheeks. "We weren't even really-”

Zayne's eyes darted away, the embarrassment palpable in every subtle movement of his body. His hands, which had been so sure and desperate before, rested now light on your skin, almost hesitant. You could feel the tension radiate from him as he was waiting for you to say anything, unsure how to handle the raw vulnerability that he had just let on.

You reached up, your fingers delicately cupping his cheek as you guided his eyes back to yours. His breath hitched, but he didn't pull away this time. The softness in his gaze was still there, lingering beneath the surface of his embarrassment, and you gave him a small smile.

"It's alright," you whispered, your voice low and soothing, the words filling in the space between the two of you with their warmth. "I'm glad I could help… even if only a little."

For one brief second, the tension in his body loosened, and his shoulders sagged when the weight of your words sank deep into him. His eyes softened a little more; the flush was still there on his cheeks, but for now, there was a flicker of something else-something akin to gratitude laced with relief.

Zayne exhaled, the breath shaky but less burdened now, and he leaned into your touch, his forehead resting gently against yours. “You always do,” he murmured, his voice quiet and full of unspoken emotion, as though the weight of everything he'd kept inside had finally lifted, if only a little. “Do you want me to help you-”

You interrupted him before he could even finish his sentence, “No- Just wanted to make you feel better.” you reassured softly as you leaned in to kiss him.

“I love you so much.” he whispered against your lips as he pulled you as close as physically possible.

“I love you too.”

taglist:

@yuhig-blog @psychedellyc @char-35 @yowumi

@kaeyeahsworld @sukunadckrider @veraiku

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unboundprompts · 15 days ago

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Can you do some more body language descriptions? For different emotions like Worry, sadness, love, etc!! Ty🩷🩷

Body Language Descriptions

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Worry

She wrung her hands together, her fingers twisting nervously as she struggled to keep her thoughts in check.

He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze darting anxiously around the room.

She pulled at her sleeve, the movement repetitive and absentminded as her mind raced.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a habit that betrayed his inner turmoil.

They hugged their arms tightly across their chest, as if trying to hold themselves together.

She paced the room, her steps quick and uneven as she tried to shake off the nagging sense of dread.

Sadness

She wiped at her eyes, even though no tears had fallen yet.

He let his shoulders sag, his whole body slumping as if the weight of the world rested on him.

She clutched her scarf tightly, her fingers gripping the fabric like it was the only thing grounding her.

He kept his head low, staring at the ground as if afraid to meet anyone’s eyes.

They let out a shaky exhale, the sound heavy with unspoken grief.

She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

Love

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile soft and shy as she met his gaze.

He brushed her hand lightly, the touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

They leaned closer, their knees nearly touching, as if drawn together by an invisible force.

She tilted her head slightly, her expression tender and full of quiet affection.

He laughed easily, the sound warm and unguarded, his gaze never leaving her face.

She reached out to fix his collar, her fingers lingering as she adjusted it carefully.

Guilt

He avoided her eyes, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

She rubbed her temples, her hands trembling.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, unable to stay still.

She clasped her hands tightly behind her back, her knuckles white as she fought to remain composed.

They bit their lower lip, their jaw tightening.

He fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, his movements jerky and hesitant.

Fear

She took a step back, her breath quickening as her eyes darted to the nearest exit.

He clenched the fabric of his shirt over his chest, as if trying to steady his pounding heart.

She froze in place, her body stiff and her movements tentative, like a deer caught in headlights.

He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly as he fought to calm himself.

They pressed their back against the wall, their hands splayed out.

She whispered under her breath, her words shaky and barely audible.

Jealousy

He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw tightening as his gaze followed her every move.

She tapped her foot impatiently, the rhythm sharp and irritated as she forced a smile.

He clenched his fists at his sides, the tension in his knuckles betraying his calm demeanor.

She cast a sideways glance, her lips pressed into a thin line.

They shifted in their seat, their shoulders stiff.

He ran his fingers through his hair, his movements brisk and frustrated as he fought to contain his thoughts.

Relief

She exhaled deeply, her shoulders dropping as the tension melted away.

He ran a hand down his face, his smile faint but unmistakably genuine.

She laughed shakily, her hand pressed to her chest as if trying to steady her racing heart.

He slumped against the nearest chair, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him up.

They let their head fall back, their eyes closing as a soft, contented sigh escaped their lips.

She smiled faintly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the surface of the table as the weight lifted from her mind.

Embarrassment

She tugged at the collar of her shirt, her cheeks flushing as she avoided everyone’s gaze.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his lips twitching into an awkward, forced smile.

She bit her lip, her hands fluttering nervously.

He let out a strained laugh, scratching the side of his head.

They hid their face in their hands, peeking out between their fingers with a sheepish grin.

She stumbled over her words, her fingers twisting the hem of her shirt as her cheeks burned bright red.

#writing prompts #creative writing #writeblr #story prompt #prompt list #ask box prompts #body language descriptions #how to write body language #how to write #how to describe a character's body language #emotion prompts #how to show emotions #writing ideas #writing prompt

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stormberry-12 · 6 months ago

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snooze fest ~ lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: slight language, illusions of sex.

Lando rolled over groggily, a yawn escaped him as he reached for his phone on the bedside table. He cursed silently when he saw the hour, almost 10 am. Suddenly awake he rolled over excitedly only to be hit with empty, cold space. His heart immediately sank.

You were nowhere to be found in the spot where you had fallen asleep the night before. He didn't get it, what had gone wrong?

Sure, it was only your second date. However, he thought the two of you had something different, especially after last night. The thought of you made him instantly giddy. You were gorgeous, smart, and witty...

He was utterly obsessed with you.

But you had left.

Lando managed to drag himself out of bed, he wasn't usually a coffee drinker but today he felt like he needed one. He pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers and shuffled his way to the kitchen. As the coffee brewed his mind went back to spiraling.

Did you assume that he wanted you gone?

Was that where his reputation had led him?

He had most seriously just fumbled the girl of his dreams.

He opened the fridge and hauled the jug of milk over to the counter, pouring a splash into his mug. Picking up the mug he sighed, over to the living room he walked, with coffee in hand. He sat down on the couc-

"Ow!"

Lando jumped, "OWWIE!"

Hot, sizzling coffee dripped down his chest as he sprang up off the couch, "You scared the shit out of me!"

"You sat on me!" you countered, emerging from the blanket you had been hiding under and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked still in shock.

"Oh, um- sorry I can leave. I didn't realize how late it was," you mumbled, flushing embarrassed.

Shit. "No, no, no don't leave!" Lando waved his hand frantically, walking to place his mug on the coffee table. "I uh-" his voice trailed off into the kitchen and you followed. "I just meant what are you doing on the couch?"

You looked at him, attempting to wipe the coffee from his clothes, "You snore."

He stared at you blankly, relief flooding through his body that you were still here. Standing right in front of him. He giggled, "Oh, sorry bout' that."

"No worries, I punched you to try and make you roll over-"

"That's why my shoulder hurts-"

"Yeah..."

He stared at you and chuckled sheepishly, "I was actually disappointed when I woke up, I thought you had left. Happy I sat on you..."

You rolled your eyes, walking towards the fridge, "Saying you wanna keep me around Norris?"

"Definitely. Oh, I wouldn't open that-"

You stared into the almost-empty fridge, all that lined the shelves was a carton of milk and pre-prepped meals in plastic containers.

"Huh. I didn't strike you as the type to be on the meal-planning-mom side of TikTok,"

"Shut up," he chuckled, striding over to you.

You sniffed the contents of an already open bottle, "What is this? Crack?"

"Protein shake, I know boring-"

"Snooze fest," you mumbled in agreement.

"Well, no point in just staring at it any longer," He slammed the fridge shut and kissed your temple, "C'mon! Get dressed and we can go get something to eat. Maybe stop at the convenience store..."

"What do you need to get at the convenience store?" you asked as he walked toward his bedroom.

"Earplugs!"

#lando norris #formula 1 #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #blurb #fluff #formula 1 fanfic

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ophelieverse · 7 months ago

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please please please i need you to write something for my man Aegon I love how you write for him😭

➳♡before fire takes it all

Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

-summary:normally Aegon would ignore Helaena and her strange behavior but,since his wife Y/n got pregnant,he can’t help but think about the words his sister said the moment he announced the news.

-warnings:set in season 1,pre blood and cheese and luke death,teen pregnancy(both Aegon and reader are sixteen),talk about child death,Aegon being paranoid and keeping secrets,Helaena predictions,classic asoiaf warnings,reader can be of whatever house you want.

-thank you so much for the request and let me know what you guys think,send you all my love🩷

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It hurts.

Love,Aegon thinks.

Love hurts.

His heart bursts,his heart explodes,his heart climbs down his throat and assaults his temples, squeezing and compressing them until his eyes darken,until it scars the tormented irises and pupils.

Loving too much is fatal.Or not?

Isn't that so?

Live well,live badly.Does he lives at all?

“I don't know”,his conscience responds.

Aegon would like to know,but he doesn’t know.He doesn’t even think he knows what the right way to live is anymore,he’s terrified that he doesn’t know what it means to live anymore.

How can he live?How?

How can he pretend that everything is alright?That everything,in the future,is going to be alright?

Normally Aegon wouldn’t think about these sort of things,he used to live day by day dictated by his own selfish desires.But since he had got married two years ago,something in him changed completely.He started to understand what it meant to love and live for someone else,to wake up every morning early to just watch her sleep so soundly next to him,to stay sober at every hour so that he could remember her kind words,her sweet face and calm voice.Wanting to be a different version,a better one,of himself only because she showed him that he deserved happiness and love like everyone else and in return he only wanted to give her the best he could.

But golden necklaces,earrings,beautiful flowers and the most expensive dresses could not fill the hole that was slowly opening under their feet,a hidden tragedy ready to swallow them whole and to break their hearts and souls forever.

Aegon wasn’t one to listen to his family,he longed for his mother love and his father attention,he despised his older half sister,made fun of his younger brothers and mostly ignored his other sister.Only this time,something happened,something made him look in Helaena direction for the first time and his ears had caught every single word that she had whispered to herself.

His wife,Lady Y/n,the most beautiful and kind woman,a innocent young girl with a heart too big for her body,was pregnant.It was true,what they said about expecting women,she was glowing like the most precious diamond and her happiness about becoming a mother,the mother of the lover of her life child,couldn’t be contained by her shiny eyes and big smile.

«The Maester said that signs suggest is going to be a boy.»Aegon had announced one day at the breakfast table.

His mother had smiled kindly and Aemond had nodded giving his shoulder a warm squeeze.It was still too early in the pregnancy to understand whether is was going to be boy or a girl,but still Aegon had hoped that the Maester was right.Having a son was a dream that he never dared to imagine or to say out loud until then,the living proof that he was going to be better than his father ever was for him.

Helaena was sitting next to him,quietly playing with a wooden butterfly,all lost in the secret gardens of her mind when she muttered something: «A son for a son.»without even understanding her own words.

As their mother and brother were talking,Aegon turned slightly toward her.Usually he wouldn’t pay attention to his sister and her strange behavior,he was disgusted by all of those insects that she so lovingly brought everywhere like some pet on a leash and he was so relieved when his father had betrothed him to Y/n instead that her.He wouldn’t even lister or look over her if in the past,her silent words of warning weren’t revealed to be the sour truth.Aemond had lost an eye just like she had said.Maybe if back then he had listened to her,he would have helped his brother and nothing would have happened.

«What does it mean?»Aegon had whispered to her confused.

Helaena wasn’t looking at him,her fingers gracefully tracing the toy«They only want the boy,not the girl.»she said as if she didn’t heard him,nodding to herself.

Aegon left the spoon that he was holding,a sensation of nausea was crawling up his stomach,his heart beating faster«The boy?My boy?Who wants him?»he asked.

His sister stayed quiet,every second felt like an agony for him.His mind became of stone and a part of his was laughing for the fact that he was actually really listening to her,to her crazy words and empty head.But still,something,maybe his father instinct that was already part of him,told him that what she was saying was another dark truth.

A boy and a girl,she had said.He was going to have both,twins.He couldn’t even imagine it,praying that they would take after their mother soft and gentle spirit but also his fierce nature.Y/n would have been delighted to know that they were about to have twice of the love,but what would she said if she knew that someone wanted their son?

«The rats.»Helaena answered then,her eyes bore holes in his as she turned to look at her older brother,shiny lilac flowers watered in fear and condolences.

It had been months since that conversation and Aegon couldn’t stop to think about it.Every night,as he watched Y/n sleep next to him while he so gently caressed her belly where two new lives were growing,he could still feel his sister horrified stare on him and her heavy words in his ears.

Y/n is talking to Aegon,while they were lying under the covers of their bed.Her head is on his chest,her hair smelled of flowers and peaches,her voice sleepy and always so tender as his hand was staying on her swollen stomach.She's talking to him about her day and he can't listen to her,he can't even see her behind his pale eyelashes that lower,behind his tired eyelids that are threatening to close tightly.

With the fingers of his free hand he massage them,the nail of his index finger finds a tear that was hidden there,at the corner of the right eye,and uprooting it,let it be dried out by air.

Aegon was exhausted.He had difficulty to sleep when every sound made him jump,every shadow in the corner gave him a heart attack.

He would like to stop thinking,he would like to find a way to turn off his mind,to blow up the candle that kept his brain from sleeping and this crazy thought makes him understand that he had become even more incredibly pathetic than he already was.

Aegon was terrorized.If he already ignored Helaena,now he was avoiding her like the plague in fear that she could say something else,or worse,talk about her thoughts to Y/n.

Y/n,his beautiful and sweet wife,already had so much to think about.Being eight months pregnant was taking a toll on her,even though she never stopped smiling,he could see that she was tired and that her body couldn’t bare it anymore.He couldn’t let her worry about something that his weird sister said to him,not when the Maester said that she needed peace,calmness and affection.And even if he hadn’t said that,how could Aegon tell her what was keeping him awake at night?

He set more and more knights to follow his wife around to make sure that nothing happened to her and his children,the Maester came to check on her at least once a day and when he wasn’t with her,his mother would keep her company in the solarium.He had personally hired people to hunt the rats of the Red Keep.Aegon so often dreamed of being just like the armors that Ser Arryk wears,cold, motionless,empty,that he has come to believe that it would be beautiful,it would be fulfilling,to be something without emotions and rest in a corner without light.

Aegon had still to meet his son,both of his children,after he had dreamed of him,of them,for so long.And yet already someone wanted to take his baby away from him.

The flashes of the veins on his forehead tingle and he clash,he crush himself,against an imaginary expanse of water that slaps his brain,crushes his lungs with long ivory tusks,disfigures his face.

Aegon was blocked.

He was stuck in some claustrophobic scribbled box,in a rusty bubble of his faulty soul,and he was afraid see beyond.But he could see the future,the one that Helaena had tried to warn him about.

He could see beyond and,the certainty is disconcerting,he clearly see that the worst nightmare of any human being,what wakes up men in the middle of the night and scares children with simple shadows,is the awareness of being chased:no one can ever escape from themselves,no one has ever escaped from destiny.

Not even him,especially him.

Because Aegon knew already,tasting it on the tip of his tongue,that what will happen is was going to be his fault.Certainly not because of Y/n.

«Am I boring you?»Y/n voice was tired but still sweet«Forgive me,my days are monotonous,predictable and highly boring.»she huffed,caressing his hand above her stomach.

Ever since she had started showing,her husband treated her like the finest and most delicate porcelain.All she could do during the day was read in their chambers,walk through the gardens and pray with the Queen.Not exactly a vivacious life,especially since Ser Arryk followed her every move.

She yawns,she apologizes,and Aegon finally slam the lumpy eyelashes and look at her.

Y/n is smiling,innocent,carrying his children and then his body moves by itself,he act instinctively, and get her closer to him.

A hand behind her nape,a strong and fast grip, almost stuttered,and Aegon feel her words on the palate,he eat them between his lips moving on her open mouth.He kiss her badly,and he hurt himself,he will hurt both of them,he kiss her following the dull rhythm of his ears,he kiss her and he pass the noise of his thoughts to her.

Aegon feels a hole in the center of his throat,a knot of cries,and this makes him sway and covers his eyes with torn red lightning here and there,it breaks his mind.Yet he keep kissing her.He have to kiss her.

Kissing Y/n scratches his soul,kissing her stirs up his fears and reminds him,in the pause of one of her breath,the so natural way in which pleasure and pain mix,get tangled,whenever pieces of skin graze and play with the tongues and crests of a fire.Fingertips caressing purple flames,white sheets reduced to blackened shreds,a plate of ice lying on the jigular.

Kissing Y/n now is like taking a sip of salt.Filling her mouth,having her under his palms,feeling the boiling heat of her cheeks against his nose and against his upper lip.

Y/n forces Aegon to give her every good part of himself,even those he thought were lost by now,and she does it with twisting tongues or with an annoying clash of teeth.All it takes is a simple touch and he’s willing to give her the world.She makes him wanting to be a better person and he so scared to fail her,that he wouldn’t be able to protect her and the most precious things that they created together.

«Aegon.»she whispered on his lips,eyes fluttered closed.

«I love you.»he said without thinking«I love you and our children.And I didn't think I could ever love,not this way.»he confessed,his voice trembling as his mouth was on hers again.

«I love you too.Are you alright sweetheart?»Y/n asked placing a hand on his warm cheek,she could read him like a open book but sometimes even her couldn’t understand him completely.

Aegon wished he could tell her all about what was going on in his mind.To share with her his deepest fears,to let her hold him and tell him that everything is going to be alright and that they will be safe and together for all of their lives.

But when she starts kissing him in a different way,like a helpless girl who would let herself do anything from him,when she starts kissing him with a teenage heat,a heat so in love and so lost, then he would like to do something else.

He would like to yell all the terrible words that Helaena told him,he would like to tug on her and burst her stupid and crazy soap bubbles in front of her eyes and he would like to do it just to remind her who he really was.To remind his sweet Y/n that so willingly loved,accepted and cherished him,that believed that with him nothing could touch her,that he was still a dragon and dragons are known to burn people.

Aegon doesn’t answer her,he just lets his forehead on hers with his eyes closed.

«You don’t have to worry.»Y/n murmured against his skin«You are not like your father and our children already know that,they love you just like I do.»she promised him,their hands interlaced on her belly.

He had voiced his concerns about fatherhood the moment she told him that she was with child,his child.Children now.And she had spent countless nights reassuring him that he was going to be a good father,a better one,unlike his.That he was going to be there for them,but now he knows that he can’t escape his own fate.His father shadow will forever be there to remind him that they are just the same:bound to fail their families.

“Stop it,please.Stop holding my heart so tight in your hands,that's enough.”Aegon thought.

It was in moments like these that Aegon remembered that Y/n was just a girl,a frightened sixteen years old who lives every second with her chest open,her heart too visible to anyone,too exposed.The feelings,the emotions,painted between her bright eyes and lips,make her an easy target,a sacrificial lamb,a too good person who can easily be stabbed in the back.

Her goodness and naivety makes her vulnerable and Aegon knows it,Gods,he knows it.

Because Y/n is not,in the slightest,capable of defending herself,she is not even able to understand the reality of the universe,she does not come to terms with the subtle and treacherous truths.She does not accept the existence of evil in the world,she does not accept the possibility that often what is considered good and right,is not really good,is not really right.

So how could Aegon get her away from the black that drips from his nails,scars,thoughts?Y/n thinks she knows how dark his soul is,she thinks she's got it,but he know she doesn’t.

It will never be like this.

«Aegon.»she calls for him again as soon as she realizes that his mind is wandering too far.

Y/n throws his name on his skin and he swallow the panic that warms his esophagus,which runs through his every rib,as he block her head in his hands,almost in a trap.

Aegon push her to lie on the mattress,make her collapse between the pillows almost as if he had beaten her in a duel,and he hovers on top of her relaxed body,carefully holding her stomach.

Y/n doesn't tremble.

He’s are literally assaulting her and she lets him do it,she agrees,she welcomes him between her legs,in her heart,in her mouth that moves a little away from his and then falls on his eyelids that are still closed.

Aegon wish he could tear his eyes out,blind himself with huge metal spikes.He doesn’t let anyone get so close to him,he’d never done it and now more than before he wished didn’t do it.Because now they would see it,they already saw it.It was evident,under the lights and everyone eyes that his legacy was about to be born and die all in once.

Even the rats will see it.If someone dared to direct their steps towards Aegon,if someone dared even raise their head towards him,they would see his pupils and find Y/n and their children in there.

At the center of all his thoughts,of all his hopes:the end of an entire life that has bent over itself in the hope of scraping together some more time and living it with them.

So what's wrong?What binds his eyelashes in a white spider web?Could Helaena be right or he was being paranoid again?She was right about the fact that Y/n was carrying twins,the Maester had confirmed it months ago,but could she be right about the rest?

Then he felt it,against his warm palm and his heart skip a beat.A little kick,yet strong and determined to be felt.

«Looks like someone woke up.»Y/n giggled,looking down at her body.

«I didn’t mean to wake them.I’m sorry.»is all that Aegon can whisper and he doesn’t even know what he’s really apologizing for.

Y/n listens to him and suddenly recognizes something in the tone of his voice.She relaxes her limbs under him even more,completely wipes away any trace of tension as if someone had just cut the thin threads that moved her body,and she sulks as she touches his lilac eyes that he still deny her,stubbornly.

«Why are you so sad?What happened?»she said,concern covering all her beautiful face.

It’s not what happened,but what could happen.

Aegon forced a smile on his lips«A bad dream.That's all.»he lies,shaking his head.

Thats what he prayed every night,that it was all a nightmare and that he would wake up soon.

Y/n rubs her fingertips on his eyelashes and he feel her lips lying against his cheekbone.She’s smiling.

��Don't worry.I just found the last sleep crumbs that were hiding from you and threw them away. They were the ones who held back the bad dream and now they are gone.»she explained to him,peppering sweet kisses on his face.

Aegon eyelids rise on their own and he clash with the flickering image of his wife looking at him and bringing to his face her index finger on which one of his eyelashes is placed,almost a crescent moon caught in the air and hovering towards the earth.

«Do you want to make a wish?My mother always told me to do it,but I have to admit that almost none of my wishes ever came true in this way. Maybe I was asking for impossible things,out of my reach.Same thing with the shooting stars.Do you want to try anyway?»Y/n was rumbling,now he remembered why she was friends with his sister.

Aegon leverage his elbows,without getting too far away from her and look at her strangely«What?»he asked confused.

His cheeks mottled red and it seems to him that the way she bites her lips is yet another punch against his anesthetized emotions.

«Forgive me,it's such a stupid thing.Please forget it.»and while she is saying it she moves her nail in the act of throwing away his wish that has taken on the common form of a pale eyelash.

Y/n gesture makes the eyelash roll down and it swirls over itself and chases the earth,chases its tail,forms several open circles into which he stick his dream,his nightmare,his hidden thought.

The eyelash is lost on the red carpet and Aegon don't see it anymore.

He look for Y/n gaze again as she pushes him back into kissing her.She asks him,clumsily,to let go of those silly words of hers.The words of a girl that was still too young and forced by her father to grow up too fast,a girl hat was still a child herself with all of her fantasies and fairytales.A child that will raise children soon.

Because Y/n was better than Aegon,she is,even if she doesn't know it,and she showed it to him so many times that he has now lost count of the occasions when he felt at fault.Occasions when he realized he don't deserve her.

Aegon prefer to ignore this reality of the facts,he prefer to put his lips on her collarbone and bite slowly,resume and rummaging through her fertile body,one hand in her hair and the other under her nightgown,and grab as much as much as she offers him.

And Y/n offers Aegon everything,always.

«No wish was ever fulfilled?No one?»the question comes out of his teeth before he can control it,it pours out as his mouth moves over her belly that he suddenly feel quiver.

She is laughing.All three of them are,he realizes as he start tracing with his fingers his children imaginary features on the skin of her stomach.

«Maybe two of them.»Y/n says,referring to the lives she created inside of her«But I found out that my wishes only come true when I look at myself in a puddle.»she laughs again with her mouth open and then moves her head into a pillow.

His fingertips tingle on contact with her skin and his stomach closes into a knot the moment he notice how the intimacy that his movements has turned into familiarity.Because that is what they were going to be soon,a family.

«When did you looked at yourself into a puddle?»Aegon suddenly asked,giggling a bit when another kick met his hand.

Y/n hand found its way into his messy silver locks«The day that my father had accompanied me here for our betrothal.»she tells him,a warm feeling in her chest at the memory.

«It was raining.»he said,he remembered perfectly the first time he saw her.

He remembered her father fussing all over her wet hair,trying to adjust her dress and to make her look presentable.But she was still the most beautiful and vulnerable creature that Aegon had aver seen.A little wet bird in a golden cage.

She nodded«Before entering the Keep i took a deep breath and,as I stared at my reflection into a puddle at my feet,I secretly wished that the husband i was going to have would love him as much as I love looking at the star.»she smiled lovingly down at him.

It came true.Aegon felt his heart exploding in his chest,he loved his wife more than anything in the world.It was so easy for him to love her,how could he not?The thought that she had to wish for something like that,for something that for him was like breathing made his eyes flutter with little tears.

Aegon moved an arm and he already knew that he will hold her hand,remaining palm to palm,as he already know that her fingers will chase his,that they will squeeze,gasps.Wrists banging against wrists,veins in contact.

The time of a whole life that slips away.

«I have never made a wish.»he confessed then.

He just took,he just wanted.

Oh Aegon,what a stupid mistake.

He stole the dreams of his future child,he had plundered entire experiences of the past,and yet he could have simply asked.With courtesy,with kindness.With a little humility.

What a stupid mistake.

«You must have had a really bad dream.»Y/n whispers in her voice broken by his caresses,and then leans and puts her forehead against his as he rise to look at her«But it’s never too late,you can still have your wish.»she reassured him.

No he couldn’t and maybe they should stop talking,stop wasting time.They both should just exchange their saliva and shut up.Pant,moan obscenely and stop everything else.Eliminate among them the layers of soul,the remnants of some childish hopes,and join like empty bags.

It would be better this way,Aegon recognize this too,just below the surface,just below the peel of his chest,at least admit with himself that it would be better that way.He should stop discovering her hips with words,with confessions,with Helaena confusing words,with half-truths:it's too risky.

He should just close himself and unite with her only the bodies,discover the consistency of the painless choices and stay there stationary,inside an empty and deep gap in which the arms and legs move frantically without ever finding anything to hold on to.

This was his life once,before her.

Aegon had endless possibilities of oblivion,between the broken lines of the light palms,he had everything a young,spoiled prince could ask for.

The simplicity of superficial human relationships flowed through the buttonholes of his fingers and he continued to be unhappy,stubbornly perpetuated his pursuit of unhappiness,but he didn't know it,and therefore he really wasn't.

Or maybe yes?Maybe a part of him knew that?Is that why his chest is burning now?Because now he was finally happy for the first time and he didn’t wanted it to end?

Because now Aegon has Y/n and he managed to create something pure and innocent and beautiful with her,giving them all of the good qualities he didn’t knew he possessed.

Y/n seems to listen to his every secret and fear,to feel his breathing change and become noisier,deeper.She place a hand on his abdomen, slowly,she traces with her fingertips first his palm and then also his wrist,then also the blue vein,and repeat his name,repeat his name,repeat his name again.

Aegon enchant himself in front of the movement of her mouth and listen to the ticking of her heart that stretches until it pulls a painful fist on his gums.

He’s an adult now,a husband and a father.He should behave as such and leave the butterflies to the kids and remember that him,in his stomach and belly,only have the worms of rotten apples.

This happens to those who never make a wish. Didn't he know that?

«I would kill for our family,even innocent people if this means keep the three of you safe.»Aegon suddenly said,voicing his thoughts out loud«Would you still love me after that?»the question is sour in his mouth.

Y/n opens her eyelids to the sound of his question,frantically slams her eyelashes,those eyelashes,and swallows with difficulty.The cheeks are even redder and the ears are also red,the eyes are shiny.Atoms of soul and innocence:they agglomerated together and formed her,a little girl composed of glass and cobwebs,bubbles and feathers.

The bravest Lady he had ever met.

«Of course I will love you.My heart is your for eternity.»she replies and doesn't hesitate for a moment«And I would do the same for us.»she added with a whisper.

Her love for him is equivalent to a black hole in which he could immerse himself and observe a boundless horizon of stars broken and stuck in an icy ground.

She loves him.

And she knows that Aegon loves her too.But right now he can't even answer her,to tell her that he’s sorry,that he’s scared,that he reciprocate her feelings with the same intensity or that maybe he reciprocate them in an even more desperate way than her,crazier.He wish he could tell her that he wished they had more time,that he wasn’t who he is,that he wished that they were born in a different place and had different lives to share forever.

Y/n face is beautiful,her forehead is smooth,no flickering lines to scar her tranquility,and the skin near her eyes is crumpled from the day they got married and started to live a life together.It's the restrained cries,the sleepless nights,the quarrels,the misunderstandings,the voracious kisses left on them like square pieces.

Y/n looks at him,her eyes are still shiny,and with her fingertips and palms she clings to his camisole.

Sh clings to him and Aegon doesn’t feel any weight,he doesn’t feel any pain,no discomfort.Then at least one thing shines certain and bright in his mind:she has become the very consistency of his body.She has entered his limbs,without him noticing,and she is so close to him,beyond the blood and the breaths,that her hand is now an extension of his,her chest is his,her back is his,her lips are his.

And they would be able to see it,all perfectly together in the faces of their children.

And it is not a mere matter of possession,just an arranged marriage to unite two houses,this is not the truth and it will never be.It is something ancestral,like being destined to meet her,being destined to belong to it,being destined to live there,despite time and space.

Aegon and Y/n were sitting on the opposite ends of a timeline,at two distant points in human life, so far away that they saw each other like blurred halos,and they wanted so much to find the other,they have desired it so much,so much,that they have decided to tilt the axes of existence,to hang on to them,and to reunite with an interweaving of hands.

They had bent their faces,touched their souls by ticking of nails,and nothing was the same again.What a stupid mistake they made,something that their innocent son will pay one day.

Aegon felt like he was on fire,his whole body was trembling and his heart ached in his chest«Y/n…I…I-»but what could he tell her?

He could push her away from him,go ahead and just do it,but on his bones he will still find her shape and her footprints.If he looked for her,looked for her in him,he would find that she was everywhere.

«Y/n,I’m…I’m really sorr-»he tried to choke out what he could.

«Do you know what I wanted when I first looked inside a puddle?»Y/n didn’t let him finish,instead she kept stroking his face lovingly to help him calm down.

Aegon doesn’t move and she puts her index finger against his right temple,light.He knew that,from where she was from,it usually rained during the end of the summer and that she loved playing outside with her siblings and mother.She was the one that taught Y/n to look inside poodles and to dance in the rain,something that she would teach her future children too.

«I wished I could see myself.I wanted it intensely,I really wanted it with all my strength,as I never wanted anything in life.»Y/n started to explain him.

All of her life was planned for her,from the moment she came to the world,by her father that only saw his daughter as piece of chess to move on the board in order to gain power.She didn’t even knew who she was if not Lady Y/n,a proper and polite young girl ready to marry in the royal house.But now she knew who she was,what she liked to eat,to read,what to do in her free time and it was all thanks to Aegon that had shown her how to be selfish for the first time and to live for herself.

«And I see myself now,I can see myself,but I'm not happy.Because I have a new wish,much more important:that you can see yourself in the same way I see you,the way our children already see you.Then yes,i would be happy.We would both be happy.»she told him,sincerely with a little smile on her beautiful face.

Y/n had plundered his last feelings,which were nothing more than bread crumbs left attached to the eaten crusts.If the world fell,the sun fell,all the snow,the hail,the rain and the lightning fell,even the rainbow.He will make fire pour from the sky,he will spill blood just to keep his family alive and safe besides him.

Aegon doesn’t say anything,he moves forward on top of her and kisses her one again.He has a wish now:time.The only thing he wanted was time,more time to see his children grow up and become beautiful people,time to spend with them and to teach them how the world works,to help them and hold their hands,to protect them when they were scared and to remains them that he will love them forever.More time with Y/n,to love and cherish her,to grow old with her,to make her smile and laugh at the most inappropriate times,to caress her sweet face at night as he watches her sleep.He just wanted more time,he deserved it.

«How about,the next time that rains,we go outside,just us.»Aegon murmurs on her lips«I have a wish to make.»he continued with a small smile.

And he prayed the gods,whoever could listen to him,that it would become true the moment Y/n giggled and nodded her head.He hoped but hope can do nothing against an already written destiny and then he will be ready to go to war.

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junislqve · 8 months ago

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ᯓ million dollar — ot7

syn when the members spend their (unlimited) money on you. (1770 words)

pairs richboy!members + reader | cw mentions of money petnames — mlist navi

notes richboy members are having a chokehold on me lately

LEE HEESEUNG

“take as much time as you want, love”

earlier that day, you were scouring your closet for a decent dress. flipping through the same five for the past hour.

your boyfriend, grumbling about how you should get back to bed, watched as you pick up the same clothes. his eyes never leaving your figure, staring up at you through the mirror you were using to look at the picks.

heeseung slowly got up and hugged you from behind, burying his head on your neck. kissing your shoulder blades up to the back of your ear.

“do you need a new dress, love?”

after very few talking from heeseung and much more complaints from you, he somehow convinced you to get ready.

and that is how you’ve ended up in one of the famous streets in your city. lined up with the prettiest boutiques and malls.

heeseung wrapped his hands around yours and walked to a favorite store of yours. remembering how you’ve ever mentioned how badly you wanted to go back and buy something from it, months ago.

walking in, your small pout turned into the biggest, heart-pounding grin he’s ever seen. he bit his lip containing his own smile and dug out his wallet.

“spend it all on anything you want, baby”

PARK JONGSEONG

as a musician, looking at instruments is like strolling through heaven. admiring all the small intricate details engraved.

jay loved his guitars like it was his own child, he understands what it’s like to spend thousand and even more on just a single guitar. not that it would do anything to his bank.

you’ve never really asked jay for anything for as long as you’ve been dating. rather using your own money to buy whatever you want than letting your boyfriend buy it for you.

it wasn’t like jay didn’t want you to buy things using his card, he actually offers it most times than not. it was you who never lets him buy anything for you.

“use my card to buy the groceries, babe”

you refused to take his card whenever you could. because of this, jay has learned to pay without you knowing. usually when your back is turned or when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

right now, your boyfriend is tagging along with you as you browse through the island of pianos; ranging from yamaha to bluthner.

you stopped abruptly as your eyes fell on a piano that had you immediately captivated, from the design of the lid to the shape of the pedals, you thought it was the most beautiful piano you’ve ever seen.

when you were admiring the piano, trying out the keys and sitting on the soft cushion of the chair. you failed to realize your boyfriend had silently called the seller and slid his card. smiling down at your frowning figure.

“it’ll arrive by tomorrow morning, love”

SIM JAEYUN

“but you look so good in these, babe”

opening your apartment door with a click, the lights turned on to greet you with the copious amounts of packages laid on your living room.

the packages were of different sizes and stacked side by side. what’s worse is that you can’t remember buying all of the things you did, having to open up each package to know what and when you bought them.

you called up your boyfriend, who had brought in all of your packages earlier in the day when he paid a visit to your unit to pick up a small bag you forgot to bring.

“i seriously need to go on a ban”

“no you don’t baby, besides, you use my card when you buy anything” jake says, laying his head atop yours as he turned on a movie an hour ago to stop your fussing.

“that’s not the point, jake. i need to stop buying random things online. i can’t keep flooding my bedroom” you sigh.

“then just put the things you don’t like anymore in my apartment, you’ll have more space that way” jake smiles down at you, kissing your temples.

that was one week ago. somehow, he had convinced you to ‘accompany’ him on a late night rendezvous to prada. it was all fine at first when he was just looking at the suits. but now, he’s trying to convince you to buy two pairs of their new summer series glasses.

“i can buy this next time, babe” you finally say, sighing, after letting him talk about all the new luxury pieces of the summer set, desperately trying to talk his way into letting him buy you one.

“oh” he trails off, a sheepish grin creeping up on his face “about that, i’ve already paid”

PARK SUNGHOON

as a person who always loved the mountains, you find yourself spending weekends driving up one usually catching the sunset. this was already a routine even before you met sunghoon.

and now, you still kept up that routine whenever you weren’t too busy, your boyfriend always opting to tag along despite his complaints about being too tired. he wouldn’t actually pass up an opportunity to be with you.

you always loved traveling, within the city and during long holidays, out. liking the feeling of driving past the roads and seeing the scenery once the mountains come into view.

when sunghoon found out about this interest of yours, he started searching up for places with the most beautiful mountain sceneries. over the past years, he’s taken you to numerous countrysides and mountaintops inside and outside of the country.

even when you say it was fine if you were to only travel within the country, he loves seeing the way your eyes widen adorably during a gorgeous sunset that would rarely happen in-country. that’s why, the moment he tracks down a specific date that you both were going to be free for at least three days, sunghoon would immediately book a ticket to whatever country he’s been searching up.

on a random afternoon, sunghoon knocks on your bedroom door, walking in your apartment. as you open the door, there he stood with a big suitcase and that sweet smile of his.

“better pack up now, baby. we’re leaving in a few hours”

KIM SUNOO

sunoo knows you more than you know yourself, he’s quick to learn your body language and certain expressions you make.

it’s really hard to lie to him when he knows how to poke at you the right way to make you open up about your worries.

sometimes he just lets you have it, he knows you would at one point tell him about the things you’re going through. he trusts you on that.

but at times, he knows when you need a bit more of a cheer up. sunoo loves spending his money on you, buying you clothes, makeup, accessories. one of the things he realizes is that you love wearing jewelry. finishing up an outfit by adding a necklace or bracelets along your arm. that conveniently also accentuates your features.

he spends alot of time with you picking out sets for outfits you were going to wear for upcoming events. jewelry, he realizes is one of the things that can easily cheer you up, besides himself, of course.

so as the sweet boyfriend he is, sunoo dragged you to the jewelry store despite your sulks. and the moment your eyes laid on the glittering pearls, all of your problems seem to dissipate. just like how your boyfriend had expected.

with a giggle, sunoo starts asking the seller to bring out the full set for you to try on. patting you on the head as you continue to stare at the long rows of necklaces.

“buy whatever you want, okay? after this we can cuddle for as long as you need”

YANG JUNGWON

he would remember everything you’ve ever said to him. you like sweets? he remembers. you like flowery perfume? he remembers. you like that one specific lipstick brand that’s best bought in singapore? he remembers.

it’s not odd to get home to a bunch off boxes filled with gifts and food and random things whenever jungwon’s just went home from a trip anywhere.

anything you’ve said even before you two were dating seems to be engraved in his head like muscle memory. he can be strolling through a street market in japan and a small store would catch his eye, the next moment you would find his hands filled with keychains of a cartoon character you said you liked years ago.

his job requires him to fly countries often and it used to be a problem for you both as it means you can’t really meet him as much. but after years, both you and jungwon still communicate alot. him usually asking to facetime you at random hours of the day or night and sending you pictures of what he was doing.

both of you readjusted quite well to this arrangement and thankfully his work doesn’t demand a long period of time during those trips.

“babe there’s no way i can finish all of this by myself” you laugh seeing all of the things he bought you.

“then we can finish them together” he says, dimples peeking out through the smile “that way i can come by more often”

NISHIMURA RIKI

as days start to get more busy, you and your boyfriend find yourselves going on a short getaway to the outskirts of the city.

he showed up at your apartment one night and pulled you out of it with no explanation. you weren’t going to question him though, letting him take you wherever.

you both ended up on a train station, waiting for the last train to arrive. about an hour later, you landed on a small, but really nice accommodation.

the moment you stepped in the room, riki launched himself on the bed sighing in content.

“i want to live here forever” he mumbles out against one of the pillows.

“we both still have school tomorrow” you sat on the bed beside him, opening up your phone to continue the essay you were working on. only for it to be tackled down a second later, your boyfriend pulling you to lay down beside him.

silence filled the room, only yours and your boyfriend’s soft breathing. riki mumbled something against your hair. you hummed in question.

“let’s get room service” he says. you knew it was going to happen, it always happened. but here you are, sat on the hotel chair with too much food both of you know you can’t finish. he had a habit of buying you whatever he thought you’d like and it wasn’t like he’s wrong. the bowls of food on the table are all your favorites and you don’t even know where to start.

he really doesn’t spend much on things, but he loves going on little getaways with you every once in a while. sleeping on the comfiest beds (besides his or yours) and eating room service. something about it just brings a peaceful kind of silence for him.

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paarthursass · 1 year ago

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Baldur's Gate 3 Companion!Tav Ask List

What if your Tav was a recruitable companion, instead of the main character? (contains major spoilers for the game, and for some dark urge runs as well)

General

Where can your Tav be recruited? Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region? Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav?

Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?

What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval?

Are there any instances where your Tav can permanently leave the party, depending on player character actions?

Do they have any secrets that can be revealed? What are the prerequisites for this secret coming to light?

Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game? Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes?

What do they say when the Player Character asks them to stay in camp? How about when the Player Character asks them to come adventuring again?

Does your Tav have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions, like Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s knife-fight?

Are there any unique NPCs associated with your Tav that can show up during the course of the game?

Are there any moments in the game that trigger unique dialogue for your character? (Like Gale’s anecdote about the barfight after you save the goblin prisoner)

Story Specific

How does your Tav advise the player character when it comes to the Dream Visitor?

How do they advise the player character on Raphael?

How do they react to Astarion biting the Player Character?

How do they react to the Player Character letting Abdirak whip them?

How do they react to the Player Character taking their first tadpole power?

Will they stay with the Player Character regardless of siding with the goblins or the tieflings, or is it possible for them to leave the party permanently?

What can they be found doing at the tiefling/goblin party?

Do they have comments on who the Player Character chooses to spend the night with?

Do they have unique dialogue if the Player Character lets them die when they steal the Blood of Lathander?

How do they react if the PC licks the dead spider in the Gauntlet of Shar?

What do they say if the PC tries to force them to go up on stage with Dribbles the Clown?

Is it possible for your Tav to be kidnapped and replaced by Orin? How is Orin's deception revealed? How do they react to the PC rescuing them in the Temple of Bhaal?

How do they react to the PC either allowing Astarion to ascend or convincing him to spare the 7000 spawn?

How does Tav react to the PC becoming a mind flayer? Can they offer to become one themselves? Does their reaction change if they’re romanced?

How do they react when the Dark Urge first reveals their amnesia and murderous thoughts to them?

How do they react to the Dark Urge killing Alfira?

If romanced, how do they react to the Dark Urge trying to kill them in Act 2?

Romance

Is your Tav a romanceable character? Are there any specific requirements to romancing them?

Does your Tav need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the PC themselves if approval is high enough?

Are they a polyamorous or a monogamous option?

Do they have a special romance scene at the tiefling/goblin party?

Does the romance have different branching paths, or just one route to take?

How do they react to the player character breaking up with them, or choosing another character over them?

What questions can Zethino ask the PC about Tav in the Love Test?

If they’re poly, do they have a reaction to the PC engaging in a relationship with Halsin?

How do they react if the PC has sex with Mizora? The Emperor? Haarlep?

Will they join in with the PC and the Drow Twins, or no?

What are Tav’s plans for the future? Do they propose to the PC, or is marriage not something they’re interested in?

Free space! Share anything from your companion!Tav au!

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #ask list #oc ask list #bg3 oc #bg3 tav #i've been thinking about this au for far too long now and i've written FAR too much about aurel w it #also i'm sure the durge portion of this is incomplete but i haven't gotten super far in my own durge playthrough yet so. bear with me #anyways. pls ask me about aurel im unwell abt him

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innerfare · 2 months ago

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Nightmares - Part 2

Summary: What sorts of nightmares do they have about losing you?

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Mihawk, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Corazon, Smoker

Genre: Angst

CW: SFW // that being said, caution- contains mentions of death and suffering

———

Shanks:

It’s all fun and games as he chases you down the beach under the full moon, both of you splashing in the shallows, the mugginess of the summer night somehow refreshing after a few too many drinks. He doesn’t run very fast at first, giving you the head start he always does, the one you complain about, but when he does decide he wants you in his arms, he picks up his pace, only to realize you’re much further down the beach than you should be. He runs faster and faster, and with each step, you seem to get three more away from him, until the outline of you is rapidly disappearing. His throat begins closing up as he realizes he’ll never catch you. And when he wakes on deck, a half-empty booze bottle in his hands, he sets it aside and searches the ship for you, not catching his breath until he finds you sleeping in his bed, right where you belong.

Beckman:

You’re in the clutches of the marines. Beckman had a past before Shanks, a past that involved deserting the marines and going on the run from the World Government, and there’s a small part of him that never did overcome the fear of that past catching up to him. Worse still, he has a fear of that past catching up to you, and that fear comes to life in his dreams, when you’re thrown into Impel Down for his crimes and he’s forced to watch them dunk you in boiling water over and over again. He wakes with you asleep on his chest, the same as every night, and the skin to skin contact calms him down, but not enough for him to go back to sleep.

Mihawk:

He sent you away for your own good. He had a premonition the Navy would be coming for him, and with them, a slew of bounty hunters that would have no qualms about using you against him. And yet, you remained in his dreams, though the hot and heavy ones he once had were replaced by cold fear. Every time he went to sleep, a different scenario, though the crux of it the same: you were being used as a pawn to get to him, a pawn in a lot of pain. And every time he woke up, the same: your side of the bed was empty, the shape of your body tangled in those satin sheets now but a memory. For your own good, he kept reminding himself, though he believed it less every time.

Crocodile:

You betray him. Of course you do. He would betray you in an instant, and not even for a whole lot. A business deal, or perhaps the freedom of one of his more valuable people. From the look on your face, it’s not difficult for you, either. In fact, you seem to relish the pain on his as you inform him you’ve taken a deal with one of his enemies- a lucrative one, at that. And all you had to do was set him up. He wakes with a start, sitting up on the sofa in his office he often crashes on when he doesn’t feel like dragging himself to bed. You’re nowhere to be seen, and that’s what he needs for the next few days. He only stops giving you the cold shoulder when he figures out a way to approach the topic of betrayal without telling you how pathetically heartbroken he would be if you ever did turn on him.

Doflamingo:

The angry mob gets you. That same mob that went after his family, that same mob that went after him. They’re after you, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s not a warlord, not even a pirate, hasn’t eaten his devil fruit or met Trebol, hasn’t done anything to make himself powerful enough to protect you. You’re supposed to be his, but the mob is determined you’re theirs, and what is he supposed to do about it? He wakes in a cold sweat, leaning forward in his chair with his chest heaving. He takes a moment to massage his temples before climbing to his feet and stalking out of the room in search of you, determined to lay eyes on you (and probably to increase your security detail, too).

Corazon:

His brother has you tied up like a piñata for the executives to beat. Everyone in the family is there, even Law, and Corazon cries out, but he really is mute, completely unable to protest your treatment. He can’t move, either, can’t do anything but watch as everyone takes hits at you, from his brother to his son. He wakes in a fit of desperation, calling out for you. It’s the sound of his own voice- hoarse and frantic- that finally calms him down, though ultimately, he doesn’t take another calm breath until you appear at his side, your brow furrowed, asking him what’s wrong. He knows it’s crazy, but he just has to check you over for marks.

Smoker:

He comes home after months at the sea and finds your home wicked, windows shattered and furniture overturned. He approaches the bedroom with a lump in his throat. Just as he rounds the corner, he wakes up, but laying there in bed, he knows what he saw, knows what a crew of vengeful pirates did to his beloved. Though he had been firm on not telling anyone about you or your relationship for fear the wrong person would find out and your life would be in danger, he makes the decision to put in a call to an old friend and ask them to drop in on you every week or so to be certain you’re safe. He also installs a new, state of the art security system at your place as soon as he gets leave.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece angst #one piece x reader #shanks x reader #beckman x reader #Benn Beckman x reader #mihawk x reader #crocodile x reader #Doflamingo x reader #corazon x reader #rosinante x reader #smoker x reader

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winxanity-ii · 3 months ago

Text

FIRST, TASTE [1/2]

ship: incubus!gojo x fem!virgin!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (oral sex/f. receiving; handjob/m. recieving; coercion/dub-con?) word count: 9.9k (long one babes, y'all know i gosta worldbuild/have a lil plot, lololol) a/n: Y'all, I can't believe I actually wrote this, i just wanted to try my hand at KINKtober😭; anywho, the idea of summoning an incubus just to get experience hit different and I HAD to do it. Anyways, enjoy this sinful lil one-shot. 'Know No Evil' update coming soon, probably on my birthday (Oct. 9) if I stay on schedule 👀��Prt. 2: 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃, 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid," you muttered, pacing frantically around your small dorm room. "How can you be this stupid?"

For the last half-hour, you'd been running back and forth like you were stuck in a sitcom montage, trying to prepare your space for your tutor session with Fushiguro Megumi.

And now, of course, he was almost here.

Usually, you weren't this disorganized.

The plan had been to clean and review notes way ahead of time, but somewhere between finishing the latest season of Sex Education on Netflix and getting lost in TikTok, the hours had slipped away.

Now, here you were shoving clothes under the bed and tossing old takeout containers into random drawers, hoping to make your room at least look like you had it together.

"Perfect, he'll show up and think I'm living in a trash heap," you grumbled, snatching up a pair of socks from under a pile of textbooks.

But there wasn't time to wallow; you needed to—

A knock echoed from the front door.

"Shit," you whispered, shoving random items under your bed as fast as you could. "I got it!" you called out, bolting towards the door, hoping to beat your roommate.

The last thing you needed was her making things awkward with whatever bizarre commentary she'd throw at the poor guy—

"Who's this?" Kugisaki Nobara's voice rang out from the hallway, her tone curious yet condescending.

You cursed under your breath, knowing what was coming. Great.

You made it down just in time to see Nobara standing by the door, hands on her hips as she sized up the person on the other side. The moment her eyes landed on Megumi, her lips twisted down in obvious distaste.

Megumi was standing on the other end of the door, wearing his usual bored expression, a dark hoodie thrown over his usual lazy attire of jeans and boots. His hair was messier than usual, sticking up in all directions like he hadn't even bothered with it.

"Ew... it's you," she said flatly, shooting him a withering look. "____, your teacher for dummies is here!" she called out, turning on her heel and walking away with an exaggerated flick of her hair.

You groaned under your breath, rubbing your temples in frustration. Why is she like this?

"Megumi! Hi," you said, trying not to sound too flustered as you opened the door wider for him. "Come on in."

"Hi," he muttered, stepping inside as if he were doing you a favor.

You flashed an awkward smile. "Sorry, about Nobara," you muttered, sending Megumi an apologetic look as you opened the door wider for him. "She's, uh... she's like that with everyone."

Megumi didn't seem fazed in the slightest. "I believe you," he replied dryly, stepping inside as if nothing had happened. He slipped off his shoes and tossed his backpack on the floor without so much as a second glance toward Nobara's retreating figure.

You sighed, closing the door behind him. "I swear, she's really not that bad once you get to know her."

He raised an eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Sure."

You couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or if he just genuinely didn't care, but either way, you quickly changed the subject. "Let's get started," you said, leading him into your room, still feeling embarrassed by Nobara's less-than-friendly greeting.

Megumi didn't say much as he followed you, but he didn't have to. You'd known him long enough by now to recognize the tiny shifts in his expression. The raised eyebrow when he took in the state of the living room, the slight tilt of his head as he glanced at the bookshelves.

He was the type to quietly observe everything, and that somehow made you even more nervous.

You'd met Megumi in your first semester—by accident, really. He'd been the quiet guy who sat in the back of your chemistry class, always scribbling in his notebook but never talking to anyone.

When you got paired with him for a group project, you'd been terrified. The guy barely looked up when you introduced yourself, just grunted in response.

But over time, you found out he wasn't actually that bad. He had a sharp mind for chemistry and a dry, blunt sense of humor that caught you off guard.

And in exchange, you helped him navigate through the old math stuff that somehow came up again in your courses.

Now here you both were again—sophomore year, different majors, but stuck in the same required math class.

"Here we are," you said, gesturing to your bedroom door. You pushed it open and stepped aside to let him in first, already regretting the chaos you'd left in the room.

"Sorry about the mess," you muttered, nudging a stray bra under the bed with your foot as you walked in after him.

The faint scent of strawberries hung in the air, thanks to a candle you'd lit earlier in a desperate attempt to make the place feel less like a disaster zone.

Megumi barely glanced at the mess. "It's fine," he said, dropping his backpack onto your bed without a second thought.

You grabbed your notebook and the textbook, settling down at the small desk near the window. "Alright, let's get started."

"—and that's how you factor a quadratic expression," you finished, circling the final answer on the page with a satisfied hum.

Megumi leaned over, his eyes scanning the paper in that same quiet, intense way he always did. He was so focused it was almost intimidating.

You'd never quite gotten used to how he could make silence feel so heavy.

He nodded slightly, jotting down some notes in his notebook, but his eyes flicked back to you. You couldn't tell if he was impressed or just silently judging you.

"You're good at this stuff," he muttered, leaning back slightly.

You laughed a little, shrugging. "Heh. I guess. It's easier to explain than to actually do it myself sometimes."

"You're a better teacher than some of our professors," he added, which you weren't sure if that was praise or another dig at the fact that your school's faculty left a lot to be desired.

You glanced at the clock on your bedside table, noticing there were still about fifteen minutes left in your session. "We've still got a little time left. If you want, we can go over anything you didn't quite get—"

"Can I ask you something?" Megumi cut you off, his tone casual, but there was something behind it that made you pause.

"Uh, sure," you said, expecting a question about math or maybe something random about chemistry.

Instead, he asked, "Are you a virgin?"

The room fell silent. You stared at him, completely thrown off, and nearly choked on your own breath. "I—what?"

He tilted his head, like you hadn't heard him. "Are you a virgin?" he repeated, slower this time, as if asking for clarification.

Your face immediately went hot, and you sputtered, "W-Why the hell would you ask something like that?"

He leaned back slightly, his lips curling into the faintest smirk. "Just curious."

You crossed your arms defensively, feeling your heart race. "That's none of your business."

Megumi's gaze stayed on you, unbothered by your reaction. "Okay."

"Okay?" you repeated, narrowing your eyes. "What the hell does that even mean?"

His smirk widened a bit, and his voice dropped a little lower. "You mentioned Suguru earlier, right?"

Your stomach flipped at the mention of Geto Suguru, the subject of your daydreams; also known as the senior you shared an etymology class with your second semester last year.

He was... a lot.

Tall, handsome, intimidating, and way too charismatic for his own good; he had this effortless air about him that made you wonder why someone like him would even notice someone like you.

He was the kind of guy who made you nervous just by being in the room. But he was always hanging around Megumi, too, which only made things more confusing.

"Yeah, so?" you replied, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt. "What about him?"

Megumi leaned back on his hands, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "He'd probably be interested in your answer."

Your face went red. "What? Why would Suguru care if I'm—wait, did he... ask about me?"

Megumi's smirk turned into a full grin now, and he shrugged. "Maybe."

Your mind was racing. Why the hell would Suguru, of all people, ask anything about you? You were barely on his radar as far as you knew.

He was always surrounded by people—other seniors, girls who were way more confident and put together than you.

You fidgeted with your hands, trying to keep your voice steady. "Why... why would he care? Did he actually say something?"

Megumi chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You'd have to ask him yourself."

You stared at him, completely at a loss for words, but before you could fire back, he was already packing up his stuff, slipping his notes into his backpack with a lazy sort of ease.

"Thanks for the session," he said, standing up and throwing his bag over his shoulder. "Let me know if you need help with chemistry."

And with that, he was gone, leaving you sitting on your bed, still trying to wrap your head around what the hell had just happened. What the hell did Geto want with you? And why did Megumi look so smug about it?

You flopped back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"What the hell..."

"Fuck my life..." you mumbled under your breath, dragging your feet as you made your way across campus, your body feeling heavier than usual.

It had been a long day—scratch that, a long week—and you were running on fumes after pulling an all-nighter.

You knew better, but The Sims 4 had you in a chokehold last night, and before you knew it, it was 4AM., and your empire of perfectly crafted Sims families was more put together than your real life, and now you were paying the price.

Your last class of the day had been a blur, and you almost skipped it entirely. But the guilt of missing two classes earlier in the week pushed you out of bed at the last possible minute.

Now, with your bag full of heavy textbooks and your brain fried from back-to-back lectures, all you wanted to do was collapse.

You squinted against the afternoon sun as you approached the large fountain in the middle of campus. The sound of rushing water was soothing, but it did little to ease the pounding headache forming behind your eyes.

You weren't even halfway there when you spotted your roommate, Nobara, lounging on the fountain's edge, tapping away at her phone.

Her bright orange hair was styled in its usual sharp bob, and even from a distance, you could see the unmistakable confidence in the way she carried herself.

Nobara was nothing if not bold—always dressed to the nines, even for something as casual as sitting by the fountain; her outfit—ripped skinny jeans, a cropped leather jacket, and combat boots—screamed effortless cool.

By the time you reached her, you were practically dragging your feet.

Nobara glanced up from her phone and raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. "You look like shit," she said bluntly, without skipping a beat, holding out her coffee cup.

You didn't even hesitate, reaching for the cup with a grateful nod. "Thanks, I spent all morning on it..." you mumbled, taking a long sip of the lukewarm coffee. The caffeine was probably your only hope of making it through the rest of the evening.

Nobara's eyes flicked over your disheveled appearance—your baggy hoodie with matching swats, the dark circles under your eyes, and the way your hair was barely stuffed inside a silk bonnet. She chuckled, shaking her head. "Late night?"

You nodded, swallowing another sip of coffee. "Pulled an all-nighter... Sims 4."

"Gods," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "You really need to get a life outside of video games."

You shot her a half-hearted glare. "You try building a perfect six-story mansion with an indoor pool and jacuzzi, okay? It's not as easy as it looks."

She snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyway, I'm heading out to a party later," she said, flipping her phone in her hand with a casual air. "Frat thing. You coming?"

You groaned at the thought of a loud, crowded frat party. "I don't know; I've got a ton of studying to do," you said, even though you knew that was only half-true. You mostly just wanted to crawl into bed and zone out for a few hours.

Nobara didn't let you off that easy. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Suguru going to be there."

You paused, trying not to let your face show too much interest, but the mention of Suguru was enough to make your pulse quicken.

"I—" You waved her off, trying to keep your cool. "I really should study. Plus, it's not like he even knows I exist."

Nobara scoffed. "Please. He totally knows. You've tutored Megumi, right? I'm sure they talk."

You felt a blush creep up your neck. "That's not the same thing," you said, finishing the last sip of her coffee and handing the empty cup back.

"Suit yourself," Nobara said with a shrug brushing invisible dust off her shirt. "But you're missing out. I heard he's single again, you know."

Just as you were about to reply, something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. Like a prairie dog sensing danger, you shot up straight, heart skipping a beat as you spotted a familiar figure in the distance.

It was Suguru.

Your breath hitched as you took in the sight of him. His long dark hair was tied back into a neat man bun, showcasing his sharp jawline and the broad expanse of his shoulders under a fitted black shirt.

He had this effortless cool about him that made you want to stare—but then again, everyone did. He was the kind of guy who turned heads without trying, and right now, he looked annoyingly handsome as usual.

Panicking, you ducked behind a nearby group of walking students, trying to hide your figure as if Suguru could sense you from all the way across campus.

Nobara sucked her teeth, clearly unimpressed with your theatrics. "Seriously?" she muttered, shaking her head. "You are so childish."

Before you could stop her, Nobara stood up, waving her arm in the air like a flag to catch his attention.

"No!" you whispered harshly, nearly choking on the last bit of coffee as you grabbed her arm and tried to drag her back down. "Stop drawing attention!"

Too late.

A shadow fell over you, blocking the sun, and you looked up, heart hammering in your chest. Standing above you was none other than Suguru, his lips curled into a faint smile as he took in the scene.

"Hey, Nobara," he said smoothly, his voice deep and almost teasing. His dark eyes flickered to you, and your entire body went rigid. "____, right?"

Your heart skipped several beats, your breath catching in your throat as you scrambled to respond. "Y-Yes!" you squeaked out, your voice way too high for your liking. Your face felt like it was on fire, and you were sure your face was hot enough to cook an egg on.

Nobara snorted beside you, shaking her head as she muttered under her breath. "Simp," she said, barely loud enough for you to hear, though Suguru didn't seem to catch it.

You glared at her, silently willing her to shut up and stop making things more awkward, but of course, she wasn't about to let you off the hook that easily.

Instead of making small talk or letting the moment pass, Nobara turned to Suguru, crossing her arms with a mischievous grin. "Hey, Suguru. My friend here thinks you're hot and wants to fuck."

Your jaw dropped, and for a second, you were sure your soul left your body. "What?!"

Nobara flashed you a wicked grin before air-kissing you goodbye and casually tossing over her shoulder, "See you at the party later, Suguru!"

And just like that, she strutted off, leaving you sitting there wide-eyed and horrified.

A smooth chuckle broke through your panic, pulling you back to reality. You turned slowly, only to find Suguru standing there, hands tucked into his pockets, looking down at you with an amused tilt of his head.

"So... fuck, huh?" he teased, his voice warm and smooth like honey.

You stammered, trying to form any coherent response, but all that came out were mumbled syllables. Your brain was short-circuiting, your face burning hotter with every passing second.

Finally, you gave up and buried your face in your hands, turning your back to him in pure embarrassment.

Suguru let out another chuckle, taking a few steps closer until his tall frame was towering over you. "You're cute," he said softly, reaching down and gently patting your head. The simple action made your entire brain spiral into chaos, and before you knew it, you were already mentally planning your wedding, picking out baby names, and deciding where you'd honeymoon.

But then Suguru's voice cut through your delusions.

"I'm flattered, really," he said, his tone a little more serious now. "But I've got this rule about not dating freshmen."

You blinked, looking up at him in confusion, the fantasy bubble bursting in an instant. "W-What?"

Suguru shifted awkwardly, running a hand through his hair as he glanced to the side. "I mean, it's not that I'm some international playboy or anything," he said, hesitantly but sure of himself. "I'm just... not really looking to settle down. So I try to keeps things simple by steering clear of freshmen. Because... ya know, it's thier first timers for a lot of things."

You pouted, a bit confused by what he meant. But than, realization dawned and you felt your heart shatter. He thought you were a freshman... and that was why he wouldn't be interested in you.

Even then, your heart leaped for a split second before reality set in again. Though you weren't a freshman, you were still a virgin. So technically his rule applied to you as well.

A soft "Why?" slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. You were so focused on the fact that you were losing your chance that you didn't even think to correct him.

Suguru sighed, his expression softening. "It's just... I don't want to be the guy who takes that kind of experience from someone, you know? I prefer if the people I'm with have already been through that, so there's no pressure." His voice was calm, almost gentle, as if he was trying to explain something important without hurting your feelings. "It's not fair to put that on someone who's still figuring things out."

Damn, even his explanation was surprisingly sweet.

You couldn't help but appreciate how thoughtful it was. But that didn't stop the disappointment from settling in your chest like a heavy weight. You didn't know what to say—what could you say?

Taking your silence as sadness, Suguru bent down slightly, his face closer to yours, and gave you another light pat on the head, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You know... you're cute enough that I might just break that rule." He winked, and with one last chuckle, he turned on his heel and walked off, leaving you sitting there, completely dazed.

You sat frozen, unable to do anything but replay his words in your head, even as the mortification continued to burn at your core. "What the fuck..."

A few hours later, you found yourself on your phone, mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram profile, looking at his pictures. "He's so handsome," you sighed. You stared at the 'follow' button, your finger hovering over it.

Hyping yourself up, you quickly pressed the follow button before throwing your phone down. "Okay, there, first step down," you muttered to yourself.

Your thoughts kept circling back to Suguru's words. He thought you were a freshman, but even if he knew you weren't, it wouldn't change anything.

You were still inexperienced.

You let out a groan, rubbing your temples as frustration began to mount. Gods, what would Nobara do? you thought to yourself before shaking your head with a scoff.

Nobara wouldn't even be in this mess... still.

Without much thought, you opened laptop, typing into the search bar: 'How can I gain sexual experience without having sex?' Hundreds of articles popped up at once. Your eyes skimmed through the list.

[Self-love] ~ Tips on how masturbating can get you ready for sex

No.

[PornHub] ~ Virgin girl indulges in sex for the first time

No.

[First-Timers] ~ Website for virgins who are looking for companions

No.

[Phone-Sex] ~ Let your wildest fantasies come to life

No. No. NO.

You dropped your head into your hands, groaning, "This is useless."

Just as you went to click off the tab, something caught your eye.

'Want to gain sexual experience without actually having sex? Click here to join a forum that shows exactly how it can be accomplished!'

You leaned forward, interested. "Hello..." you hummed out loud, about to click the link. You narrowed your eyes at the link, not fully sure if you should trust it or not. With pursed lips, you weighed the pros and cons of the situation.

On one hand, if you clicked on it, it could take you somewhere that might actually help with your current predicament.

But on the other hand, if you didn't, you'd be right back to square one, knowing nothing.

Though, if you did click it, there was a chance you'd end up with a virus—something that would be a real pain to get fixed. "Eh, the school's got multiple computer labs," you shrugged.

With your mind made up, you clicked on the link. You crossed your fingers and prayed to whatever gods above that the website wouldn't give you a virus.

As you scrolled through the page, you came across dozens of supernatural-esque things like shifting, astral projection, spells, etc.

One would think you'd scroll past these because they sounded ridiculous, but the truth was...

"Ugghhh, why does all this shit take weeks to accomplish!?"

...you were very impatient.

Now, you could be patient for a lot of things, but this!? You couldn't risk it. Not when the only factor in your way of being with Suguru was your lack of experience—the full kind.

Not shy kisses in the corner, the short relationships that never lasted once they realized you didn't put out so soon, the disastrous first time performing third base—a memory you would shackle to the depths of your soul if you could.

A bright flash of a blue fire gif caught your eye breaking you out of your growing frenzy.

'Welcome to Infernium,' the post read, with a subtitle that said, "Harness the Power of Lust, Control Your Desires." The page description underneath it was almost like an introduction. It began with: "When I first wanted to experience sex, I just summoned a succubus..."

You skimmed down the post, reading about how Infernium was a different plane of the Abyssum—a shadowy, otherworldly realm that resembled Hell. It was a place where demons thrived by feeding on the raw, intangible energy that fueled human desires and emotions. They didn't outright steal your soul or kill you, but every encounter took a piece of your essence—leaving you feeling just a bit emptier each time.

It was subtle, like losing fragments of yourself—small enough to be overlooked but accumulating with every visit, a price that was insidious and ever-present.

Buuuut...

Instead of reading all of that thoroughly, you scrolled down to the comments section.

As expected, there was a mixture of disbelief, trolls, and snarky remarks. But the further you went, the more positive reviews you found. Some were so detailed that they seemed like fanfics or book excerpts, but something in your gut told you this could be real.

You got lost reading those comments, short anecdotes of people describing their experiences with different succubi and incubi.

Honestly, thought this was BS, but turns out it was one of the wildest nights of my life—didn't even need a safe word, 'cause this dude knew exactly what he was doing. - DarkDreamer99

Mine had pink eyes! Super freaky at first but, not gonna lie, 10/10. - PinkObsession

Listen, if you've never experienced this, you're missing out. Seriously. Just follow the steps, and don't skip anything. - LustfulWanderer

And then you found it—the gold mine. A comment by someone named Sinner_69. They detailed a step-by-step guide on how to do everything, from setting up the ritual to what materials were needed.

Now, common sense said not to go blindly trusting internet comments, but even the author of the post had replied, thanking Sinner_69 and reviewing their method with raging approval.

Your eyes widened, and you blinked at the comment, not sure if you should laugh or close the window. Curiosity got the better of you, and you kept reading down the list.

"Okay, let's see... a bowl, sage, needle, candles..." you mumbled to yourself, going over the list out loud.

The door to your room opened, and you slammed your laptop shut, looking up to see Nobara.

She was still in the same outfit from earlier but had changed into a shorter crop top that showed off her midriff. "Are you sure you don't want to come to the party?" she asked, giving you one last chance.

You waved her off, "Nah, I'm good."

"Alright, suit yourself," she said with a shrug, heading out the door.

As soon as she left, you reopened the laptop and gave the post one more glance. You muttered, "What the hell?" when you saw that an blood was needed. "Goddammit ____, why do you put yourself through this?" you mumbled out loud, heaving yourself off of your bed and rushing over to put your boots on. "I'm so gonna regret this," you sighed, grabbing your jacket and keys on the way out.

"Okay, let's see here, it says first I need..." you read to yourself, pushing up your reading glasses when you felt them slipping.

Within an hour, you managed to not only gather all the supplies needed for the 'summoning' but also completed the first half of the directions.

Though it took a total of three stores, and several judgmental looks from the cashier when buying the demon wards from the Halloween store, you could say it was a success.

Now, you sat in the middle of the circle, allowing the smells of the incense to calm you down. The window in your bedroom was cracked open, letting the warm night breeze filter in. It carried with it the gentle rustle of leaves from outside, and the occasional distant hum of passing cars.

The soft movement of air made the candle flames flicker slightly, casting shifting shadows across the walls. The atmosphere was both soothing and unnerving, as if the room itself held its breath, waiting.

With your eyes closed, you began to chant the words found on the post.

"I, L/N ____, pledge to give myself to the powers of the other side in order to fulfill my desires," you said, your voice loud and steady as you recalled the article stating that the spirits would only listen to those who were willing to give up their all, "my desire is to be presented with an entity that will ensure not only a gain in sexual knowledge as a virgin, but give me confidence to pursue an individual that has currently caught my eye."

After a few seconds of silence, you moved on to the next step. With a deep breath, you began the incantations, "Daemonium de desiderio. Dolores inferni circumdederunt me gratia tua." Your voice remained steady as you repeated this three times. You took another deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm. "It's now or never, ____," you told yourself, remembering the next step of the ritual. "You've come this far to chicken out now."

The candlelight flickered slightly, and you shivered, feeling a chill run through your body. "Just relax, ____, just make a little prick, no biggie," you muttered, gripping the needle tightly between your trembling fingers as you held your hand over the wooden bowl filled with a mixture of herbs and other ingredients. The dim glow of the candles reflected off the small needle in your hand.

Taking a deep breath, you placed the tip of the needle against your thumb, mumbling to yourself, "Just a little prick, just a little prick..." over and over. But the moment the sharp point touched your skin, panic set in.

The thought of pain—no matter how minor—made your stomach twist. You hated unnecessary pain, always had. Even the idea of a small cut was enough to make you wince.

Your hands began to tremble more, and tears of frustration welled up in your eyes. "I can't do it!" you cried, dropping the needle as your voice cracked. You shivered, your entire body tensing up in fear, unable to go through with the procedure. You sighed deeply, slouching forward, rubbing a hand down your face. "Gods, what's wrong with me," you muttered with a strained laugh, staring at the materials and the open laptop in front of you.

With a sigh, you reached over and shut the laptop, leaning back and preparing yourself for a mini-sad pity party. It felt ridiculous—summoning an incubus, just to fail because you couldn't handle a little pain. You shook your head, a self-deprecating smile tugging at your lips.

"Ow!" you suddenly yelped, yanking your hand up. You looked down to find the needle had somehow lodged itself between your thumb and index finger. Your eyes widened, a frown tugging at your lips.

You carefully pulled it out, wincing slightly at the sting before dropping it once more, not noticing as it fell directly into the wooden bowl below.

"Of course," you muttered under your breath, standing up as you sucked on the small wound. You walked towards the bathroom, looking for a band-aid, completely oblivious to what was happening behind you.

Unbeknownst to you, the mixture in the bowl began to bubble slightly, the herbs slowly dissolving as the blood mixed in with the ingredients. The candles flickered again, their flames stretching upwards as if reaching for something.

A strange energy began to fill the room, the air becoming heavy, almost electric. The curtains of your window began to flutter, almost as if someone had crept inside the confines of your room.

"Oh, come on," you groaned as you rummaged through the cabinets, coming up empty-handed. With a sigh, you gave up, shaking your head as you left the bathroom.

As soon as you returned to your room, every single candle surrounding you suddenly went out at once, as if someone had blown them out like birthday candles.

Your eyes snapped open, fear beginning to grow within you as you realized you were suspended in darkness.

This wasn't the typical darkness you were used to—it felt heavier, more inky, like it was swallowing up every ounce of light. The only light you were gifted with was from the moon outside your window, its dim rays barely illuminating the layout of your room.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Timidly, you felt your way over to your bedside table, fingers fumbling as you reached to flick on the lamp.

You pressed the switch—once, twice—but nothing happened. Panic began to build inside you, your mind racing as you desperately tried to make sense of the situation.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly checked for any notifications. A message from the RA popped up in the group chat: "Heads up everyone, the power will be on and off tonight due to maintenance fixing the breaker. Will keep y'all updated." You sighed, your fingers trembling slightly as you lowered your phone. "Great timing," you muttered under your breath.

Determined not to let the eerie atmosphere get the best of you, you reached into your bedside drawer, searching for your lighter to relight the candles for light. Your fingers brushed against the cold metal, and you pulled it out, flicking it on with shaky hands.

The small flame flickered to life, casting a warm glow that provided you with a bit of comfort, even if it wasn't much.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as you glanced around the darkened room. Something felt off—the air was thick, charged, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you weren't alone.

Walking back over to one of the candles, you flicked it on, ready to light the candles back up, thinking that the wind from outside might have blown them out. Leaning forward to the first candle, you flinched when you heard a thump from somewhere behind you.

You swiveled your head left and right, trying to see if you could find what caused the noise.

At once, all the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as the temperature of the room dropped. "...____..." A voice suddenly whispered out your name, the sound echoing as if someone was shouting in the distance.

You could feel your heart thrumming dangerously within your chest.

"...____..." It sounded breathless, somewhat taunting as it bounced around the room.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt a chill sweep throughout your body. It felt as if someone was sitting before you, blowing air into your face.

You squeezed your right hand, hoping that the pain would help anchor you amidst your whirling emotions, but it did nothing as your fear raged on like a fire scorching away.

With clenched eyes, you began to mumble soft hymns to yourself, "Jesus l-loves me, yes I know, f-for the Bible tells me so..." The tune was shaky as it left your trembling lips.

"Okay, breathe, ____, this is not real, it is only my imagination," you told yourself, repeating the sentence over and over again like a mantra. You felt your breathing calm down with the words, your shoulders relaxing as you began to believe in what you said. "See, it was just all in your head—"

You stopped breathing when you felt warm breath ghost over the side of your face, a pair of soft lips grazing the top of your ear.

"Aww," the voice teased, the tone dripping with mockery. "Did you really think a few little hymns would protect you? How precious..."

A blood-curdling scream exited your mouth just as the lights flickered on. You stumbled back, your heart pounding painfully against your ribcage. The lighter dropped from your hand, clattering to the floor as your wide eyes darted around the room.

Nothing. There was no one there.

The candles remained unlit, the curtains still, and the air seemed to have returned to its normal temperature.

But you knew—you knew—that you hadn't imagined it. Your skin still tingled from the feeling of those lips against your ear, and the echo of that mocking voice still reverberated in your mind.

Your eyes flicked to the bowl on the floor, the once-glowing mixture now dark and still. You backed up, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you tried to process what had just happened. "This can't be real," you whispered, your voice shaking. "This isn't happening."

Instead of hitting the wall, your back collided with something else—something firm and warm. Panic surged through you, and before you could react, a familiar voice drawled behind you, "You humans are so weird..."

You felt hands trail down your back, their touch sending a shiver through you as they moved down your arms before wrapping around your waist in a firm grip. The sensation wasn't just hands; it was claws, sharp yet careful, grazing your skin as if savoring every tremble you made. "...You wish for something, yet when it's in front of you, you deny it, run from it... How amusing."

Your breath felt trapped in your throat, your heart pounding wildly. Slowly, against every instinct in your body screaming at you to run, you turned around. The grip on your waist loosened slightly, allowing you to face whatever was behind you.

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widening as you took in the sight before you. He was tall—taller than any man you'd ever seen.

His hair was a stark, snowy white, almost glowing in the dim light of your room, and his eyes were an intense, piercing blue that seemed to look right through you. His chest was bare, revealing perfectly sculpted muscles, each defined line standing out under his honey-tan skin.

He was also wearing short silk boxers that stopped mid-thigh, the fabric clinging loosely to his form. The warmth of his skin contrasted with the sharpness of his presence, making him appear almost otherworldly.

But what truly caught your attention were the small, curled horns protruding from his head and the long, winding tail that lazily whipped behind him.

Your mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out.

The incubus smirked, bending at the waist and bringing up a clawed hand. He used a single finger to gently scratch under your chin, then closed your mouth for you. "What's the matter... devil got your tongue?" he taunted, his voice laced with amusement.

You took a staggering step back, your heart racing. Finally, you managed to find your voice, though it was shaky. "I-It worked," you stammered, unable to keep the surprise from your voice. "You... you actually came."

The incubus grinned, stepping over the wooden bowl and chalk lines as if they meant nothing. He moved with a confidence that was both captivating and terrifying, his gaze never leaving you. "Of course I did. How could I resist such an earnest little summoning?"

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. He was here. An actual incubus was in your room, and the realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

This was real. You had actually done it.

The demon's eyes trailed over your form, taking in the sight of your tank-top and short sleeping shorts. His voice came out low and teasing, his head tilting slightly as he spoke. "So, you're the one who wants to gain some experience, huh?" he said, his voice dripping with amusement as he took a step closer.

You felt your face heat up, your cheeks burning at his words. In that moment, you forgot entirely why you had even done this whole ritual—caught up in the fact that it had actually worked. "I-I mean, I just..." you stammered, your words trailing off as you felt awkward under his intense gaze.

The demon took another step closer, towering over you. He let out a soft, almost mocking coo at your embarrassment. "Aw, don't be shy. You summoned me for a reason, didn't you?"

You nodded, barely able to meet his gaze. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears that it drowned out everything else. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, and you jumped slightly at the contact, your eyes snapping back to his.

"Relax," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "I'm not gonna bite... unless you want me to." His smirk widened, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your entire body tense. He was so close, his presence overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing, but it was impossible with him looking at you like that—with those eyes that seemed to see right through you.

The incubus's hand slid from your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head up so that you had no choice but to look at him. "You said you wanted to learn, right?" he whispered, his lips just inches from yours. "I can teach you... everything you want to know."

Just as he leaned down, about to press his lips against yours, you suddenly found your voice, stuttering out, "W-Wait!" You pushed past him, your hands trembling as you put space between the two of you.

You held up a shaky hand, trying to steady your breath. "Just... just give me a second, okay?" you said, your voice still trembling. You needed time to think—to understand what was happening, to process this overwhelming presence.

The incubus sighed, a sound that was almost a groan of frustration. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he crossed his arms over his bare chest. "You don't understand, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with impatience. "I can't leave until our bargain is complete. You summoned me for a reason—until you lose your virginity, until we complete what you called me here for, I am bound to you."

Your eyes widened, and you swallowed nervously. "I... I know. It's just—" you paused, trying to gather your thoughts. "There's this guy, Suguru. I... I like him, but he doesn't mess with virgins, and I don't know what I'm doing. I thought maybe if I had some experience, I could... I don't know..." You trailed off, your face burning in embarrassment. The words tumbled out in a messy, awkward ramble, and you wished you could just disappear.

The incubus laughed, a low, amused chuckle that made your skin prickle. He slowly began closing the distance between you again, his eyes never leaving yours. "Oh, I see now," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. "This is all for some boy, huh?"

You took a step back, shaking your head. "It's not like that! I mean, it is, but—" You stumbled over your words, watching as Gojo's smirk grew wider with every stutter.

He took another step forward, and you moved again, trying to keep the space between you. "I—I mean, I don't even know you like that," you stammered, your voice weak as you grasped for any excuse.

He froze, staring down at you as if you had just grown several heads. He raised an eyebrow, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. Then, after a moment, he let out an amused scoff. "You don't know me, huh?" He shook his head, his eyes glinting with something wicked. "Fine, you can call me Satoru."

Before you could react, the incubus—Satoru—stalked toward you, his movements smooth and confident. You backed up until you felt the wall press against your back, your heart pounding as he stopped just inches away from you.

His arm came up, his palm resting flat against the wall beside your head, effectively pinning you in place.

"Listen, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "You wanted to learn, right? Well, you need to learn the basics first. You need to learn how to relax, how to let yourself feel..." His other hand reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm, trailing up to your shoulder. "How to respond to someone's touch."

Your breath caught in your throat, your entire body tensing as his fingers traced along your skin. The heat of his touch was almost too much, your heart racing as his words sank in.

You knew he was right—you had summoned him for this, to learn, to gain experience—but it was so much more overwhelming than you had imagined.

Satoru started speaking again, his voice pulling your attention back to him. He tilted your face up gently, making you meet his eyes as he hummed, "I understand... You're a virgin, after all." He said it softly, almost as if he was comforting you, but there was a teasing edge in his tone that made your cheeks flush even more.

Slowly, he backed away from you, his gaze never leaving yours until he stopped at the edge of your bed. He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he spoke again. "If you're not ready to start, that's fine. We can start slow... Maybe you could learn the signs of when a man wants you."

You blinked, confusion furrowing your brow. "What do you mean—?" you started to ask, but your tongue went dry in your throat as you watched him. Satoru's blue eyes darkened, his entire presence becoming almost magnetic as he leaned back on your bed, propping himself up on his hands.

His muscles flexed as he settled into the position, his sculpted chest and abs on full display, his honey-tan skin almost glowing in the light. You couldn't help but stare, your eyes following the lines of his body as he showcased himself. Satoru noticed your reaction, his smirk widening, clearly pleased.

"It's not hard to see the signs," he said, his voice smooth as silk as he spread his legs slightly, the movement confident and intentional. His tail whipped behind him lazily, the motion almost hypnotic as he continued speaking. "A man's body will tell you everything you need to know if you pay attention."

Your eyes flicked down, unable to help yourself as Satoru's hands moved slowly over his own skin. He rubbed his chest, his fingers tracing the defined lines of his muscles, before moving down to his thighs. His touch was deliberate, his fingers pressing into the firm muscle, and you could feel your face growing hotter with every passing second.

He let out a soft sigh, his eyes watching you intently as he continued. "The way his body reacts... the way he touches himself... all signs that he wants you." His voice was low, almost a purr, and it made your stomach twist with a mix of nervousness and something else—something that made your skin feel too hot, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Satoru's hand moved lower, and before you could process what was happening, he pulled out his dick, the length thick and impressive as it flopped heavily against his stomach. His eyes never left yours as he did so, watching your every reaction.

Your eyes widened, embarrassment flooding you, but no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't look away.

Your gaze was fixed on him, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight before you—the way it rested against his stomach, the veins prominent along the thick length, pulsing faintly. The pink, flushed tip stood out against the rest, glistening slightly.

The slight sheen of his skin under the dim light made every detail more vivid, and the trail of white hair leading down accentuated his toned muscles.

It was overwhelming, and yet, you were entranced.

He stroked himself slowly, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched your reaction. "See, sweetheart? It's all about paying attention... learning what a man wants." His voice was a seductive whisper, his gaze holding you captive as he continued.

Satoru's hand moved in steady, deliberate strokes, his eyes never leaving yours. He let out soft groans, each sound making your stomach twist with an unfamiliar mix of nervousness and curiosity. The noise started out as barely audible sighs, but soon turned into deep, breathy pants that filled the room, echoing in your ears.

His gaze was locked on you, his blue eyes darkened with lust as he watched your every reaction—how your eyes widened, how your lips parted slightly, and how you shifted uncomfortably where you stood. His legs were spread out, his body relaxed as he continued to touch himself, his movements growing more purposeful with each passing moment.

He moaned, the sound low and drawn out, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. His hips began to move slightly, rising off the bed in response to his own touch. The veins along his length stood out even more as his hand moved faster, his breaths turning into shallow pants.

Satoru let out a low whimper, his eyes never breaking contact with yours. "____..." he murmured, your name slipping from his lips in a breathy moan that made your entire body tense. You squeezed your thighs together instinctively, trying to ignore the heat that was building inside you.

It was too much—his voice, the way he said your name—it all made you feel things you weren't sure how to handle.

He noticed, of course, his smirk widening as his eyes flicked down to your legs. "Aw, a-are you feeling it too, s-sweetheart?" he teased, his voice barely above a whisper. He let out another groan, his hips stuttering slightly as they lifted off the bed, his hand working faster over himself.

Satoru's movements became more urgent, his body tensing as he continued, his eyes still locked onto yours.

Every noise he made—every groan, every sigh—seemed to echo in your head, making it impossible to think of anything else but him and the way he was looking at you.

Satoru's movements became more urgent, his body tensing as he continued, his eyes still locked onto yours.

Every noise he made—every groan, every sigh—seemed to echo in your head, making it impossible to think of anything else but him and the way he was looking at you.

His eyes flashed a bright electric blue for a split second, and his voice came out husky, filled with need. "Come here," he commanded, and before you could even think, your feet were moving, obeying him.

You found yourself standing right in front of him, close enough that you could see every detail—the way his thighs twitched, the muscles of his stomach flexing, the slick, wet sounds of his hand moving over himself filling the space between you.

You felt yourself growing hotter, the sight of him this close making it impossible to ignore just how affected he was. His breathing was labored, each pant turning into a needy groan. His hips moved steadily, his body following the rhythm of his hand, and then his eyes met yours again. "Touch me," he groaned, the desperation clear in his voice.

You bit your bottom lip, your hands shaking as you slowly reached out. Your fingers brushed against his thigh, and the moment you made contact, Satoru let out a sultry groan, his head falling back, eyes closing briefly.

Encouraged, you let your hands trail up and down his thighs, feeling the strength in the muscles beneath your fingers. His skin was warm, almost hot to the touch, and you couldn't help but be in awe of the power you felt in him.

Satoru let out another groan, his hips stuttering for a moment as if reminding you of what he wanted. Your eyes flicked up, and you saw his head lolled to the side, his right arm tense and trembling as it held him up while his left hand continued to work over himself. He looked undone, his usually confident demeanor replaced with something raw and vulnerable.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking down to where your hand rested on his thigh. Slowly, you moved your hand up, caressing his skin until you hesitantly cupped the base of his length. It was hot—almost burning—and you could feel it twitch against your palm, the sensation making your heart pound even harder.

Satoru let out a deep groan, his eyes fluttering open to look at you. "Squeeze," he muttered, his voice rough, and you did as he asked, your fingers wrapping around him. He let out a shaky breath, his hips pushing up into your hand, and he cleared his throat, panting as he looked up at you. "Stroke it... like this," he instructed, guiding your movements. "Every man likes it a bit different, but... just follow my lead."

You nodded, your hand moving awkwardly at first as you tried to mimic his earlier motions. Satoru's gaze never left you, his breaths growing heavier as you found a rhythm.

The heat of him under your touch was almost overwhelming, and you could feel the slickness of his pre-cum as it dribbled down, coating your hand. He let out a low, broken moan, his hips snapping up more frantically, the wet sounds growing louder as you continued.

His entire body seemed to tense, his muscles straining as he came closer to the edge. His abs clenched, his stomach flexing involuntarily with each thrust of his hips. The sounds he made grew louder, more desperate, until finally, with a deep, guttural moan, he came.

His back arched off the bed, his body trembling as his release spilled over, dribbling down his length and hitting your hand. His eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth falling open as he rode out his orgasm, every muscle in his body going taut before slowly relaxing.

The cum dripped down, pooling on his stomach, and you couldn't help but watch, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him coming apart beneath your touch.

Satoru cracked open an eye, his lips tugging up into a smirk. "Good job," he murmured, his voice still a bit breathless. "You just learned how to give a handjob."

You felt your face flush, a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness bubbling up inside you. "I-I know how one is done," you muttered, trying to hide the awkwardness you felt. "I... I even know what a blowjob is... I've done it before." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and your mind flashed back to your senior prom, shivering in disgust at the memory of your date fumbling and the uncomfortable experience.

It had been horrible—nothing like this.

Satoru's amused hum pulled you back from the terrible memory. He shifted slightly, leaning back comfortably on your bed, his smirk widening as he looked at you. "Is that so?" he asked, clearly intrigued.

Before you could respond, he continued, his tone shifting into something a bit more curious. "Tell me then... Have you ever been eaten out before?"

Your eyes widened, and you let out a startled noise, almost choking on your own breath. "W-What?!" you spluttered, your face heating up even more. "That has nothing to do with learning how to please a man!"

Satoru sat up, his eyes still locked on you. "Of course it does," he said matter-of-factly, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Some men get nothing but pleasure from taking care of their partner... Making sure you're enjoying yourself can be the biggest turn-on."

You opened your mouth to disagree, but the words caught in your throat when Satoru reached for your wrist, his fingers wrapping around it gently. He pulled you closer, his touch firm but not forceful, until you were standing directly in front of him. He stared up at you through his lashes, his white hair falling messily across his forehead, and you couldn't help but feel your breath hitch.

"C'mon," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "Ride my face."

You blinked, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to come up with a response. "I-I don't think... I mean, what if I'm too heavy—" you started to say, only for Satoru to cut you off with a scoff.

"Sweetheart, I'm not human," he said, his voice filled with amusement. "You can't hurt me." As if to prove his point, his tail curled around your waist, the firm grip a reminder of his strength and otherworldly nature. "Trust me... I want this."

You looked off to the side, your anxiety bubbling in your chest. After a long moment, you finally gave in, your voice barely above a whisper. "Okay..."

Satoru wasted no time. His hands moved to your shorts, pulling them down swiftly and tossing them somewhere behind him. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing as he guided you over his body, his hands pulling you closer as he lay back down, urging you to crawl over him.

Your knees pressed into the bed on either side of his chest, and you moved awkwardly, your heart pounding as you tried to position yourself above him.

His hands found their place at your waist, the warmth of his touch grounding you as you hovered over his head.

Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire, and the insecurity you felt only made it worse. You were unsure of what to expect—sure, you'd read smut, you'd watched porn, but it was entirely different when you were actually doing it.

This was real, and you could feel every nerve in your body buzzing with uncertainty.

You avoided looking down, not wanting to meet those electric blue eyes that were staring up at you from between your thighs. You could feel his gaze on you, his intensity almost overwhelming, and it made you feel vulnerable in a way you'd never felt before.

"Are you ready?" Satoru asked, his voice softer now, a hint of something almost reassuring beneath the teasing tone.

You nodded, though your voice betrayed you. "I... I guess," you muttered, your voice shaky and uncertain.

Before you could prepare yourself, Satoru yanked you down onto his mouth, his grip firm as he pulled you against him.

You let out a startled gasp, your hands shooting out to steady yourself as you fell forward slightly, your fingers tangling in his hair. A low groan rumbled from his throat the moment he tasted you, the vibration sending a shiver through your entire body.

His tongue was hot, wet, and the feeling of it against you made your head spin. He traced up and down your slit with a deliberate slowness, each movement of his tongue making your breath hitch.

You could feel the warmth of his mouth, the way his tongue explored every part of you, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked gently, then tonguing the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You couldn't help the sounds that slipped from your lips, your entire body trembling as he worked you over. His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continued, the sensation of his tongue moving against you almost too much to handle.

You tried to lift yourself up, to ease the overwhelming pressure building inside of you, but his tail curled around your waist tightened, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"S-Satoru." You whined out his name in a broken moan, your hips slowly beginning to grind against his mouth, finding a delicious tempo.

Satoru groaned in response, the sound vibrating against you, sending another wave of pleasure through your body. His tongue moved with a deliberate slowness, almost teasing in the way it licked over you. It felt strange—soft yet firm, the texture unfamiliar but intoxicating.

A stuttered gasp left your lips as his tongue began to press into your entrance, the hot, wet sensation making your thighs tremble.

You couldn't control your movements anymore, your hips rocking against his face, chasing the pleasure that was building inside of you. Each flick of his tongue, each graze of his lips against your sensitive skin made your breath hitch, your fingers gripping tightly onto his hair as you lost yourself in the feeling.

Satoru's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you, encouraging you to keep going, his muffled groans only spurring you on further.

Your legs trembled, your movements growing more frantic as the pressure built higher and higher, the knot in your stomach tightening until it was almost unbearable. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you rode his face, your entire body tensing.

And then, finally, it snapped. A wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body shuddering as you came, your head thrown back, eyes squeezing shut as your hips stuttered against his mouth.

You could feel Satoru groaning against you, his tongue still moving, drawing out every last bit of pleasure as your body trembled above him.

Your legs felt like they could barely hold you up as you moved off of Satoru, collapsing next to him on the bed, panting heavily. Your entire body felt boneless, the aftershocks of your release still making your muscles twitch.

You glanced over at Satoru, your cheeks flushing as you took in the sight of him—his face slick with your juices, his eyes half-lidded and satisfied.

Satoru stretched like a cat, his body arching as he let out a contented sigh, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He sat up slowly, his gaze flicking to you as he used his thumb to swipe over his bottom lip before sucking on it, his eyes never leaving yours.

He moved closer, crawling over to you with a lazy grin on his face. "So," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Were you satisfied?"

You nodded, your cheeks still flushed. "Y-Yeah..." you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru's hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your neck before cupping your face gently. He hummed, his eyes studying your expression. "You know," he said, his tone almost thoughtful, "technically, I've completed our deal." He smirked, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "You didn't specify what kind of sex... only that you wanted experience, confidence. And I'd say teaching you this definitely counts."

His eyes darkened slightly, the teasing glint in them replaced with something more intense. His thumb traced along your lip, his gaze locked onto yours. "But I have to say," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, "I really enjoyed this..."

He leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Don't worry, sweetheart... I'll be back. After all, you're still a virgin."

With that, he pulled away, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. His body seemed to dissolve into black smoke, the dark tendrils swirling around him before disappearing completely, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room, your heart still pounding in your chest.

You flopped back onto your bed, releasing a satisfied sigh. "Well, that escalated quickly..."

Your phone pinged. Reaching for it, you turned it on, eyes widening at the notification.

Geto Suguru now follows you.

"Well, shit..."

A/N: ahhhh, not me getting into the halloween spirit 💀 hope you guys enjoy this just as much as i enjoyed writing it...

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theplotmage · 4 months ago

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50 Worldbuilding Setting ideas for your fantasy book

Cities and Settlements

1. Capital City - The central hub of political power and culture in the realm.

2. Harbor Town - A bustling port city crucial for trade and naval activities.

3. Elf Village - A serene settlement hidden within a forest, home to elven inhabitants.

4. Dwarven Mines - An underground city where dwarves mine precious metals and gems.

5. Nomad Camp - A temporary settlement for wandering tribes and traders.

6. Market Square - The commercial heart of any major city, filled with vendors and artisans.

7. Sky City - A floating metropolis held aloft by magic or advanced technology.

Natural and Enchanted Locations

8. Mystic Forest - A dense, magical woodland filled with ancient trees and mythical creatures.

9. Enchanted Lake - A serene body of water with mystical properties.

10. Secret Cave - A hidden cavern that might contain treasure or danger.

11. Dark Swamp - A treacherous wetland often home to dark magic and creatures.

12. Forbidden Desert - A vast, arid expanse known for its harsh conditions and ancient secrets.

13. Floating Island - A landmass suspended in the sky, often home to unique flora and fauna.

14. Hidden Valley - A secluded, fertile valley protected from the outside world.

15. Charmed Meadows - Peaceful fields imbued with protective enchantments.

Magical and Supernatural Places

16. Wizard’s Tower - The abode of powerful sorcerers, filled with arcane knowledge.

17. Sacred Temple - A place of worship and spiritual significance, often protected by divine magic.

18. Haunted Castle - An ancient fortress inhabited by ghosts or malevolent spirits.

19. Necromancer’s Crypt - The lair of a dark sorcerer who practices necromancy.

20. Oracle’s Sanctuary - A holy site where oracles deliver prophecies and visions.

21. Magical Academy - An institution where young sorcerers learn the art of magic.

22. Alchemist’s Workshop - A place where alchemists experiment and create potions and elixirs.

23. Time Portal - A gateway to different eras, allowing travel through time.

Dangerous and Uncharted Areas

24. Ancient Ruins - The remnants of a once-great civilization, often hiding secrets or dangers.

25. Dragon’s Lair - The home of a fearsome dragon, filled with treasure and peril.

26. Cursed Forest - A dark, haunted woodland where malevolent forces dwell.

27. Battlefield - The site of a significant past conflict, often haunted by the spirits of the fallen.

28. Volcanic Wasteland - A desolate, fiery landscape wrought with volcanic activity.

29. Giant’s Keep - A massive fortress built and inhabited by giants.

30. Pirate Cove - A hidden inlet where pirates gather to plan their exploits.

31. Shadow Realm - A dark, parallel dimension filled with malevolent entities.

32. Frosty Tundra - A vast, icy wasteland where few dare to venture.

Cultural and Social Hubs

33. Royal Palace - The lavish residence of the ruling monarch and their court.

34. Thieves’ Guild - A secretive organization of thieves and rogues.

35. Warrior’s Training Grounds - A facility where soldiers and heroes train for battle.

36. Arena of Champions - A grand coliseum where warriors compete in combat.

37. Goblin Market - A chaotic and colorful marketplace run by goblins, offering exotic goods.

38. Hermit’s Hut - The secluded home of a wise hermit, often sought for advice.

39. Secret Hideout - A concealed refuge used by rebels or outlaws.

Mystical and Legendary Sites

40. Ethereal Gardens - Magical gardens with rare plants and enchanting beauty.

41. Celestial Observatory - A tower dedicated to studying the stars and celestial events.

42. Sanctuary of Lost Knowledge - A hidden library containing ancient and forbidden texts.

43. Sunken Ruins - The underwater remnants of a lost civilization.

44. Gryphon Nesting Grounds - A mountainous area where gryphons make their nests.

45. Spiral Staircase - An enigmatic, seemingly endless staircase leading to unknown depths.

46. Giant’s Keep - A colossal fortress built and inhabited by giants.

47. Protean Plains - A region where the landscape constantly changes, reshaped by powerful magic or ancient curses.

Adventurous and Explorative Spots

48. Treasure Hunter’s Camp - A gathering spot for explorers seeking lost relics.

49. Relic Seeker’s Cave - A cave rumored to contain powerful artifacts.

50. Explorer’s Outpost - A base for adventurers preparing for expeditions into unknown territories.

***

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capslocked · 1 year ago

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KINKVEMBER DAY: 2

[prompt: mutual masturbation] male reader x jang wonyoung 4k words

If nothing else, Jang Wonyoung is a creature of habit.

Always orders her americano cold. Brown sugar and cinnamon cream cheese on her bagel. Walks three and a half steps behind her manager whenever they make their rounds: hair salon, corner pharmacy, the office, local record store. And for as long as she's been sharing your bed, she's insisted on that horrendous alarm clock from the late 90s that chirps the early-morning wakeup like a dying robot-parakeet.

All of it has worked for her so far, she’ll tell you. Which you find hard to argue with.

So - when she arrives home later than usual on an ordinary Thursday, she doubles down on routine. Where there's comfort in predictability. Coat on the third hook, boots below, fingers in her hair twisting to undo a messy bun, and a soft, delicate, "It's me," once she steps over the threshold.

“Hey,” you say to her, tilting your head. "You look, bedraggled."

"Well," and Wonyoung brushes aside the handful of her damp hair not stuck to her neck. There are faint marks just at her temple, in a faded half-circle, not unlike what would happen if your pillow wasn't comfortable. Or, you know. Some boyfriend that she's not supposed to have getting a hand tangled into all that long hair and pulling tight, like she tells him not to do. "That's probably true."

"Is it raining?"

"It was earlier." She eyes the spoonful of yogurt you're about to lick off, leaning back against the counter and tapping at the ceramic bowl. Frowns. "Is that one of the last blueberry ones. I take those for my lunch."

"I can always get more."

"Uh-huh." She drops her phone, keys, and spare change from her pockets into the large wicker bowl that lives near the end of the hall, by the closet and coat hooks. She has a sort of despondent energy about her when she comes into the kitchen. Less a look, more of a stance. A rub at her shoulder, this back and forth in her neck like she's working out a kink.

And because she looks tired and her hair is damp and she isn't busy kissing you right away, that's when you reach out. Let a finger slide across her skin, under her collar, pull aside the cotton.

"I'm going to go take a shower."

"Mind if I join you? You could use a hand." You end up holding hers in your own for a moment. Just, looking. "If you want."

There's something unidentifiable in her stare. She might have gone on believing nothing was different if not for the length of that pause - you, and the warmth from your body and the warmth of your hands on her shoulders, sliding into her neck, then-

She rises up on her toes and presses a light, almost shy kiss into your chin. And, well, if she had the strength to reach anywhere more than that, she'd let her fingertips find and curl around the smooth curve of your ear and say, very softly - barely audible - "take your clothes off. I'm already soaking wet. If you don't help, I'll run out of hot water before the conditioner's worked its way through."

But it's not for tonight; she's tired, wants it simple, maybe. Maybe wants to leave it for a better day.

"I just want to get cleaned up. It's been a long day."

"Fine by me." You point your spoon at her. "That's what it's for."

“Such a fucking gentleman," she murmurs, patting a palm at the front of your chest.

You smile first, playful - just this side of annoying - the exact thing she's kicking herself months later for having fallen for. And with another spoonful of yogurt, "you know me."

In your defense, Wonyoung has always had the cutest reaction to it. The quirk that she tries to keep from forming in the corner of her mouth, small and contained, like if you asked her about her day, she'd play it off. Let a sentence out with no punctuation. Which she often does: she's been fine, and that's the full length of her response.

But later, when she climbs into bed - when her face is in your hands and her lips are brushing past your cheek - when her hair smells like peach shampoo, and your chin is tucked into the nape of her neck, just the beginning of all the ways you plan to spoil her, you have to tease. Always, "I thought we weren't fucking until tomorrow, or was that a lie?"

A little bit of distance to keep your mind on track, and not thinking about her spread out under you, wide-eyes, and saying: yes.

You’re propped up against the headboard. You were reading, or watching tv. It doesn’t matter which when Wonyoung straddles your legs and drags her hand up your chest. Up and under her nightgown, the silky, thin, light blue material, until she has the collar cupped in her fist and her knees straddling your thigh. "Am I not allowed to change my mind?"

"No. Not allowed." Your breath catches. Because she is gorgeous, especially like this: tired, and pretty, and sweet, and thinking, deeply and meticulously and with great consideration, of climbing into your lap and asking if you'd help. If she'd be distracting enough - if she had the words to entice you into staying very close, without actually promising anything, because this, what she's wearing, how it's so tight to her form and how it is easily torn or bunched aside when she reaches down with both hands and starts to fiddle with the fabric at her waist, near her navel - is all entirely purposeful.

Wonyoung raises her eyebrow in question - silently: an exception, maybe, for me?

The way you're talking her up with both hands at the very smallest dip between her ribs and the bones jutting out above her hips, thumbs rubbing into the sensitive places along her thighs - pressing, a steady rhythm.

"Do you want it bad, princess?"

"Stop." Wonyoung wrinkles her nose at that and glares. But she knows better than anyone else. She lives in that contradiction, visible as it plays across her face when her back arcs and arches. When her breathing does this slow and deep in and out and you've leaned in with just enough pressure to make it feel good, in your kiss, a soft tug, a bite. A slow laving tongue leaving lazy patterns across her skin.

"Just want to make sure," you insist. Then, the question is being murmured against her chest. Then it's being whispered into the crook of her neck - which earns the single most content of sounds:

"A little, yeah, you ass."

"My mouth? My fingers? Or are you looking for something more... involved?"

"Maybe I'm looking," she says, pulling a curtain of glossy black hair back over her ear, "for you to figure that out."

"Aren’t you coy." You grab at her hair again - the second time today, for the second-worst of reasons. To tilt her head and gaze up at her like you're willing to live in the space beneath her. "We'd start slow?" you ask, and with a press of your open mouth against her collarbone, she brings her arms around you.

"Very slowly," Wonyoung says. She has one hand curling through bedsheets to feel if you're anywhere near as hard as she is wet. Her touch is fleeting, barely a whisper. "We don't have to rush it. Maybe we could do that thing."

You laugh out loud, and the vibration of it alone, coursing through your chest, your waist, up between her legs, has Wonyoung wanting. "That could mean anything at this point."

Wonyoung just looks down at you, fingernails grazing over your stomach, your chest, as she peels your shirt up over your head and tosses it aside the bed. And then, the idea, "get your phone."

"Hm. I'm going to say something that might come off as a little... something, but I mean it in the most respectful way." It's not a far reach, to where yours is charging on the nightstand. You're tapping in the passcode to your lockscreen when you spell it out for the girl in your lap: "you're low-key kind of a freak."

Wonyoung closes her eyes. Smiles. Her hair is spilling over one shoulder, some strewn across her chest, where she cups the underside of her breasts and sits her elbows into your shoulders and wriggles her ass a little lower in your lap. Until the tips of her hair are brushing the space below her belly-button, teasing-soft at the warm, pliant flesh.

"Pot." She bites into her lip, just slightly. "Meet kettle."

It doesn't take long to find what she's looking for; twitter's full of it. A video of her that'd gone viral. Or not quite viral, but circulated - bounced from account to account, thousands and thousands of hits - the shot by shot of the choreo that sees her bending over at the waist, touching her fingertips to the hem of a plaid-checked skirt, with this perfect posture, straight up through the hips to arch the back and lift and turn her shoulders at the right angle, so there's no mistake she's looking straight at the camera.

“You look good here,” you remark, scrolling a little further. She's grown so used to it that she doesn't even look.

Instead, it's her fingers that do the talking: moving a little faster. Touching a little deeper and harder over the gray cloth of her underwear. She runs a circle over the spot that has her rubbing her hips forward, breath shaky, back in your ear. "I always look good, don't I?"

"Obviously."

Her jaw falls into the crook of your neck. There's no escaping it: this heat, and she sighs. Mumbled and warm. This is the worst thing, she mutters - like you can't feel how incredibly hard it's getting to see her touch herself and act all shy, so the words are half-concentrating on her own breath, the other half focused, hazy. In her face. In her chest.

So, again. Wonyoung swallows a sigh. Breathes and runs her touch along the edges. That spot and where the wet has started to soak through the fabric, her thighs rubbing and sliding and finding new pressure.

“Here’s a particularly nasty one," you tell her.

Wonyoung turns her mouth into your neck, lips leaving these kisses while she presses down her fingers and rides. Hard, heavy strokes where her hand moves quicker with a sharp huff to her inhale. You click open another thread - another snapshot of that tight little ass of hers, the smooth skin over the dip of her hips, and the long curve of her back-

"Read it."

And with the music all distorted and choppy through tinny phone speakers, you say: "some guy can't decide if he'd like to spank you or pull your hair."

"Uh-huh." You feel her chin dig in where it's placed itself, over the flat of your shoulder.

"Then there's an awful lot here about how much the commenter wants to rail you. They get pretty vulgar." You look up from the screen and raise an eyebrow, the words coming into place, "Wonyoung has grown up so well," and the next part is so easy, "this little cocktease has been begging me to drain my balls for her for too long. I have to fucking oblige."

"God." She slips a finger into her panties to rub at her pussy - you know because the contact is audible, wet - and she drags a palm up and down, pressing in hard. Her lips part over a shaky punched out breath - this hot, wet puff of air - when she drags her mouth over the smooth skin of your collarbone. Where she feels at liberty to bite a hickey into the taut line of your neck, and draw her mouth, open and hot, up into your jaw. "Cocktease, huh?"

"Always the impression you leave." And with one, long, indulgent swipe, and a pinch on the wet material that's plastered itself, sheer and transparent and a beautiful outline to your cock, you glance to see Wonyoung smiling. That one that's all cheekbones. All teeth. All sort of sly.

"Can you," and there's not even an attempt, not even a sliver of an ounce of thought toward trying to hide the ache in her voice.

(You're there before she has to ask.)

“The concept of ‘Baddie’ does suit her, I think,” you start to read, “no one would believe it, but Wonyoung is the perfect little slut. Grade A baddie. Capital 'b'. She keeps teasing us with that tight, toned body and her slutty expressions. Someone’s ruining her on the regular. Not a doubt in my mind. A piece of ass that fine doesn’t go a week without it.”

"I do like when they talk about you," Wonyoung purrs out, and her hand slips down your chest. A touch, always warm and heavy and searching and all your fault lands right at your waist. On the bone that juts out at her thumb and forefinger. Which is exactly where she'd start palming you over your underwear, but with something close and confident in her eye, this mischievous idea taking shape in her gaze. You can't deny it: she has something dangerous in store.

"About how they think I am."

And when you place your hand back at her hairline, trailing her neck, her shoulder, Wonyoung sighs. From the top of her chest.

"What else does it say?" She breathes out a desperate exhale. This low-slung sort of groan. She looks hungry, and so unafraid to be. Eyes all smoldering. Hips all wriggling. Pushing a rhythm with those desperate grinds over your leg. The mess, in the softest sense, of her mouth, panting against the smooth line of your jaw. And voice, hoarse, murmuring something about: "how are they planning to ruin me?"

"Princess, you-"

Wonyoung angles her hips just that inch. A moan, just at the barest amount of friction, barely a grind, her soaked pussy rubbing against the flesh of your upper thigh, that feels like an earthquake hitting your throat. That makes your eyes flutter closed for just one second and groan, your whole chest singing for her.

You swallow hard. "How can anyone go on calling this innocent-"

Wonyoung’s fingers slip past the elastic, your cock springing free against her thigh and bobbing gently. "Play along," she tells you, this hint of command, and maybe a tease - playful and familiar. "I don't want to be the only one ruining their underwear." She smiles like she has plans, and it's downright infuriating in the best way.

“In the song, she even calls herself a ‘pretty little risky baddie’ and means that whatever happens, happens. She’s announcing that she’s not on birth control and that she knows all she’s good for is getting fucked and used and bred like a toy.”

“And?” she asks, the fingers between her legs fluttering out tiny circles of respite - moving fast, faster -

It takes more than a couple seconds, because your breath halts in your throat the moment your fist finds the blood pulsing through your cock, joining her in slow, full-length, smooth motions, watching, always. Seeing her, all the way: with every slow and steady roll of her hips that moves her slick-covered-panties along your skin. The expression in the hooded eyes, this flash of her pink tongue and the way it curls over the seam of her plush-soft lip. That subtle shift in the arch of her back and the clenching muscle up her arm and leg-

Watching is where you find yourself at: all the way, everywhere. The tremble in the flex of her spine to the sound she makes from her throat at the same time. When Wonyoung moves closer. How you breathe, ragged, but eager. You're both all nerves, the damp heat building up the soft and quiet parts of the both of you and neither of you are bothered about the sweat sticking the shirt to her skin - this wet heat, a daze, a smell in the air that has Wonyoung rocking and rotating on your lap.

"I would start," you continue reading, paraphrasing slightly the unhinged words of someone typing one-handed, and your voice comes out odd, thick. "-start with my cock forced into that little throat, she'd look so perfect with her eyes watering while she gags on my cum, the filthy sounds she would be making. She'd beg for more like the slutty princess she is-"

Wonyoung shifts her weight, and lets out this moan.

"-I'm not convinced Wonyoung would even be satiated by being railed in her pretty little pussy until she's crying. Wouldn't be enough if she only choked on it while cum dripped down her chin, leaving those little dollops along the edges, slipping and glazing on her tongue. Probably wants the messiest, hottest load. No condom. Lying flat. Clenching. Could you imagine, bare? Wanting to be used for real, want us filling her so badly she'd barely even be able to move, or think, or process anything except how much of an overstimulated slut she would be: helpless. Soaking."

And you look at her as you stroke - the same tempo. Pre-cum leaking from the flushed head. Making a show of it. Watching her lips drop into something slack-jawed. This isn't even the filthiest thought she's ever heard - the roughest fantasy brought to life she's ever imagined - and yet.

"They go on for a long time about breeding you."

Wonyoung manages this incoherent half-word - a word of want, more of the kind of fucking she'd be receiving with her knees and palms to a mattress, her throat dry and face sticky with cum and tears and sweat. You know her body and what she likes, and this:

"-I would fuck her while she screams, her fingers tearing at the bedsheets and her vision so blurry and brain all fogged over, only able to respond in pained moans and deep-seated need-"

Her throat bobs.

You don't need to turn the phone over to find the end. Wonyoung lets it fall faceup onto the bedspread as she pulls your wrist toward the heat between her legs, all messy and slick. "Touch me," she's murmuring, guiding your hand lower until you have the thin strip of fabric tenting just off her lips and you press a digit inside, another - until Wonyoung clenches all around you - until she brings her wet fingers to your own ache, the hot length of your cock, pumping up and down, a stroke. Until she licks them, and places her forehead into the center of your collarbone, mumbling this broken, "Just... put-your-fucking-hands-" and her next breath, like a sharp and sudden wind.

When she’s this worked up, it doesn't take long: Wonyoung arches, slow and sinful, her shoulders curving down to present her chest, to make her small breasts and pert, hardened nipples visible even through the cotton of her shirt, her lips falling open - you slip two fingers to the base, then three. Plunging them in quick and ruthless, Wonyoung bucking into the heel of your hand, fucking her pussy on you so her thighs are slick, squelch after squelch-

“Fuck,” she whispers, this long note of exasperation, right into your cheek, and the intensity and urgency has her fucking her hips up to meet the thrust of your fingers, working her cunt like it's made for pleasure alone, and your cock-

The base of your throat burns. “Yeah,” you tell her, “just like that. Jerk that cock just like that, Wonyoung.”

Both of you are there, cumming into each other's hands, in the dimmed lights of your bedroom, heaving short, wet, sinful breaths into each other's mouths, because it's become one: her eyes and yours, blown wide. Her thighs shaking, your hips stuttering.

You roll and curl and spread your digits, holding Wonyoung's ass into her strokes. Tug the strap aside to hook a thumb in and press into her hot skin and warm muscle, driving further, deeper. Harder and firmer - pressing down, fast and vicious until she's making a series of sounds, whine-like and so soft.

"With me," she chokes out, swallowing down on the noise that falls out of her chest as fingers continue to slide around you like a vice. Her palm on you with so much pressure. "Fuck. I want you to cum."

It hits you - at first, not even particularly surprising, the rush of blood through your head.

"I wanna see it," she demands in a small, not particularly loud voice, so shy and small as the backs of her feet scramble for a hold on the mattress and she comes so hard - again, a sigh. "-feel your cum all over my knuckles, baby, cum on my-"

As to whether you or Wonyoung release first, tension coiled like a spring - well, it's anyone's guess.

"Wony-" Your mouth is open, eyes clenched tight, when Wonyoung bites a kiss down on your lip. All-consuming is the only way to describe the kind of desperation in her noises. It's everything, the sound and feeling, her wanting, her needing. All that wet heat - your stomach tightening, then slack, muscles stiffened up and falling loose as your grip becomes too tight, too heavy around the girl whose fist you're fucking and jerking and riding through this white-hot-blinding-orgasm, her wrist buckling to let you use her.

It's all that cum, lathering Wonyoung's palm, the space between her fingers, wrist and your shaft, slipping, easy. A whole puddle.

It's a few, careful strokes of her thumb and she's holding you up through that oversensitive high, forcing all that cum onto her belly, the hem of her nightshirt, all sorts of slick and messy. "Fuck, shit-" your hand still over her hot cunt, while hers just lays her weight over you, her lithe, slender body landing like it had lost any preference for form, for structure.

"Ugh," Wonyoung finally manages to get out.

"God." You collapse, leaning into the headboard behind you. With Wonyoung wrapped over your chest. Into your arm. Around your waist and mouth buried somewhere into the sweep of your neck: exhausted, entirely.

When she comes around, she does, however, make it an effort to use her tongue. Teasing along your jaw. A slip. And that makes you wonder.

"Messy," she says, wiping the back of her hand on your thigh, because where else should the proof end up.

"Ah."

She bites in, then tugs - lips on yours, until you lean up and wrap around the middle of her back, down into her hair and her hips. Because this part of her has never had a preference: to be treated either with the kind of affection and reverence afforded to an object of worship, or manhandled like someone, someone, no doubt has their fingers on her the instant she turns her ass this way or that.

"I could," she says, eyes unfocused and foggy - licking over the swell of her lip, "use a hand cleaning this up."

"Shower?"

“Mhmm.” Wonyoung slides her long legs off you, and in a look that's all too intentional, turns to move away and slip her nightshirt up, and-

Oh.

Right over her head. Then she tosses it aside like it's nothing. Wears the same sort of look that someone who hadn't had your fingers buried between their legs might. "Or, a bath sounds nice, if I’m allowed to change my mind."

"Say less, princess."

#wonyoung smut #ive wonyoung smut #ive smut #male reader #kpop smut #capslocked kinkvember

2K notes · View notes

fluffylino · 1 year ago

Text

hyunjin will do anything for your attention (psst maid dress ehe)

-contains mature themes

your eyes landed on your boyfriend who was all dolled up. wearing a flimsy little dress. his milky white thighs exposed even more when he crossed his legs.

ignoring him, you walked into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. you couldn't help but steal a couple of glances.

he had pretty pink bows in his hair. a cute bell around his neck.

quickly pretending to rinse the glass. when you saw how he quietly walked upto you. sitting himself on the kitchen counter. a few inches away from the sink.

right next to your standing figure.

you simply gave him the cold shoulder, walking right past him to place the glass back on the stand.

he let out an almost inaudible whine and you mentally smiled to yourself.

two days ago. the both of you had an argument.

it was pretty petty. yet you were still giving him the silent treatment. hyunjin had been busy. no doubt. however it always felt like you were the only one putting effort to go on dates with him.

of course he too would also. but it had been 2 weeks since their comeback. and he had a lot of free time. and whatever. the point was, it was mainly you getting annoyed to the extent you didn't pay any attention to him. it was mean. and maybe a bit funny. but you genuinely were a little hurt.

you had stuck a tiny note on the fridge the night before. after he had fallen asleep.

it read :

"i'll only talk to you if you actually try to and make an effort for me to forgive you. i don't care if it embarasses you.

- :] "

he seemed to take it seriously.

in the first 24 hours he bought all your favourite dishes and cooked up some spicy ramyeon. adding an egg on top because thats how you liked it.

of course you ate it. eagerly. not leaving a thing behind. you were annoyed.

but your love for him was still stronger. you couldn't possibly hurt him by not appreciating the effort he took. however you hummed casually. not giving him any response. simply brushing him off like he was non existent.

washing your plate and his before walking away to shower. hyunjin sat at the table, head down.

almost like a attention deprived puppy.

today though was different.

you looking forward to his next attempt.

the tv playing on thr background while you sat on the sofa. not a single thought in your head.

except for the images of your beloved boyfriend in that skimpy dress. not to mention thr fact that he was still loitering around in the kitchen.

you stared at your chipped nail. trying your best to make it seem like you didn't see how he carefully trodded across the room. choosing to sit in the space between your spread legs on the ground.

he sat sideways, long legs awkwardly placed on the floor.

his dress riding up his thighs. just maybe a centimeter more and you'd see his panti-

was he wearing pink lace panties?!?!?

you bit your lip subtly, tilting your head to the side, to peek at what was under his dress.

you were right. he really was all dolled up. not to mention the perfume that radiated off his body.

making you want to pounce on him.

shit you were looking. you averted your gaze so fast you felt dizzy. luckily he was too busy pulling the straps of the outfit up his shoulders to notice.

you could feel his gaze on you. so strong. so captivating. you were sure his lips would be jutting out.

was he wearing your lip gloss??!!!?.

the extra shiny pink shade that you'd only wear on extremely special occassions. damn, you were screwed.

you wanted to take him right there and then.

in the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him looking up at you.

and you finally spared him a glance when he placed his head on the inside of your thigh. rubbing his cheek affectionately.

Sighing, you rubbed your temples. heart shattering upon seeing the way his expression dropped. eyes growing sadder. and slowly he moved away.

like a kicked puppy who was mistreated and ignored.

"come here" you quickly let out before he could get up. he scrambled up to his knees. elbows digging into your thighs.

"where did you get this?" you asked, carefully tucking a strand of his hair behind.

"online" he mumbled. leaning into your touch.

"m'sorry"

you couldn't stay mad at him. honestly you were fine. just driven by curiousity. "i know" you let out, sitting up to kiss him on his forehead. his eyes still closed as you pulled away. lips parted.

god, he was so cute.

"c-can't i can't hhnggh-" hyunjin cried out. bent over the short table. your strap pushing into him. it was a bigger size. the one that he was begging you to use on him.

"you can." you stated. raising your hand to adjust the cute pink bow that was clipped into his hair. it had come undone.

the sight below you sending waves of pleasure through you. his hole sucking you in.

lube all over his thighs. staining his pretty lace thigh highs. the bows had come undone. hanging down.

his dress pushed up on his back. displaying all his parts to you. dick hanging between his legs. leaking all over the floor.

"you're my pretty maid, aren't you" he panted, shaking his ass onto you. as if agreeing to you.

"y-yes...always at your service"

you smirked, kneading his plush skin. loving the way his lace panties were still on. torn from where you entered him.

"anything for you m-master"

"anything? careful what you wish for baby"

"i can take anything and e-everything you give aahh mhm...m-me"

i wanna write some more...but maybe with j-jisung........?

#hyunjin is so cute #maid dress hyunjin #skz maid dress #stray kids smut #skz smut #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #sub!hyunjin #sub!stray kids #sub!skz #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz drabbles #lee know smut #lee minho smut #bang chan smut #fluffylino works

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lovesculprit · 3 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 8 - Threesome with Satoru Gojo & Ryomen Sukuna

contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv/a (unprotected), creampie, threesome, double penetration, multiple orgasms, fingering, oral (reader receiving/giving)

˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 5.2k

a/n: next few days are gonna have to be short because i'm tired :')

You lay in bed, fixed on the ceiling, as your mind whirred through a million things. These past weeks had been intolerable: deadlines at work piling up, personal obligations weighing down on your shoulders, and stress overwhelming everything else.

And even with such deep exhaustion, you just couldn't have a simple nap. Your body was tense; muscles were tight from the constant pressure that was hoarding onto your being, yearning for some relief and peace.

You could hear footsteps down the hall, but you ignored it. Satoru and Sukuna were probably just enjoying their day off; you knew they'd likely end up arguing over something stupid anyway. You let out a light sigh and closed your eyes, desperate to will yourself to sleep.

Your bedroom door burst open and your two roommates charged into your room, the air in the room instantly thickening with electric tension. You groaned, throwing an arm over your eyes. "God- can't you guys give me just one minute of alone time?

"We've given you enough peace," Satoru said, his voice laced with playful mockery. His tall frame leant casually against the doorframe, gleaming blue eyes taking in the image of your exhausted self. "You've been cooped in here for hours. Thought we'd check on you.

"You look like shit," Sukuna said bluntly from behind him, his deep voice carrying that ever-present arrogance. He stepped into the room, completely unapologetic as his crimson gaze swept over you. His eyes lingered a moment longer than usual, something dark and possessive flashing in them. "You're overworked."

You peeked out from beneath your arm and sighed. "I'm fine. Just tired."

Satoru's lips now had a teasing grin on them as he walked over to the bed, sat down at the edge near your feet. "No, you're not fine. You're stressing yourself out, and it's kind of difficult to watch.

Before you could even respond, Sukuna closed the space between you both, towering over the opposite edge of the bed. You felt the mattress dip just a little under his weight while he sat down. His gaze posed no different from a predator's glare, staring down on its prey. "When's the last time you even relaxed?"

"I don't have the time-" you sighed frustratingly, rubbing your temples.

Satoru clicked his tongue in disapproval, looking at you with concern in his eyes. "That's where you're wrong.”.

You shot him an irritated glance, but the intensity of their combined focus made your heart race. Sukuna’s hand suddenly reached out, moving your arm away from your face and tracing circles along your hand, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so harsh. “You need to stop pretending you’ve got everything under control.”

“I do,” you argued weakly, even though you knew they could see right through you. “I’m just—”

Sukuna cut you off with a low chuckle, his fingers curling around your wrist, firm but not forceful as he had you sit up beside him, “You’re exhausted. You need to let go.”

Satoru’s hand joined Sukuna’s, but instead sliding up your leg in a slow, deliberate motion. His touch was light, teasing, but it sent a spark of electricity through your skin. “Let us help you unwind.”

You felt your breath catch as they both closed in, their hands moving with an unspoken understanding. Sukuna’s fingers grazed your bare skin, his touch rougher but skilled as they pressed into your tight muscles, working at the tension in your arm and shoulder. The contrast between the two of them—Satoru’s playful teasing and Sukuna’s more intense approach—made your body react in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

“I don’t know if this is…” Your voice faltered, but even as you protested, your body was already responding. The tension in your shoulders started to melt away under Sukuna’s firm massage, while Satoru’s fingers traced lazy patterns up your leg, drawing out soft gasps from your lips.

Satoru’s smirk widened as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You don’t need to think right now, sweetheart. Just relax. Let us take care of you.”

Your heart raced in your chest, you sat there, torn between wanting to push them away and this undeniable need for someone to touch you-to forget it all for just a little while. Sukuna's hands were unyielding, touching firmly, knowing just where you wanted it, without asking. He leaned in closer to you, his lips barely caressing the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "You're too tense," he said huskily against your skin, the tone low and dangerous. “Relax.”

Satoru’s hand moved higher up your thigh, his touch maddeningly slow as he whispered against your other ear, “You’re safe with us. Just let us help you forget everything.”

Your mind was racing, but your body was quickly surrendering to the sensations. The stress that had weighed so heavily on you was slipping away, replaced by the heat of their combined attention. Sukuna’s hand slid up your back, fingers pressing into the sore muscles, and you couldn’t hold back the small moan that escaped your lips. The sound only seemed to encourage them.

Satoru chuckled softly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “That’s better. Stop pretending everything’s perfect, we’ve got you.”

Sukuna’s hand gently tugged your head back as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your neck. “Let us help our precious roommate.”

The two of them overwhelmed you, their touch pulling you deeper into a haze of pleasure and comfort. They worked in perfect sync, Satoru’s fingers sliding up to caress your inner thigh, while Sukuna’s lips finally pressed against the sensitive skin of your neck. His kisses were rough, possessive, while Satoru’s touch remained light and teasing, making your entire body tingle with anticipation.

You melted beneath their hands, all the stress and worries that had plagued you beginning to melt, replaced by their touch, their presence. They were grounding you, pulling you back from the edge of exhaustion and frustration, making sure that for tonight, you would forget everything but them.

Sukuna's hands moved with certainty, sliding under your arms as he shifted, pulling you up and against him. With minimal effort, he repositioned himself so that his broad back rested against the headboard, and you found yourself nestled between his strong legs. Your head lay against his firm chest, his heartbeat regular against your ear. The warmth of his body surrounded you, grounding you in a way.

He massaged your scalp with gentle motions that had your eyelids fluttering shut. A soft sigh escaped your lips as the tension in your shoulders dissipated completely as Sukuna's steady presence wrapped around you. "There you go," he murmured low, his voice reverberating through his chest. "Just like that. Let it all go.

Satoru was still seated at the edge of the bed, a devilish grin spreading across his face as you melted into Sukuna's arms. His fingers trailed up your legs, teasing the sensitive skin just below the knee before finally coming to rest on your thighs. He scooted closer, closing the space between the three of you, and leaned forward until his face was mere inches from yours.

“You’re looking better already,” he teased, one hand slipping up to trace along the waistband of your shorts, his fingers warm against your skin. His other hand found the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing gently across your lips. “Isn’t this much better than stressing about things that you can’t change?”

You blinked slowly, overwhelmed by the sensations—the firm hold of Sukuna’s arms around you, the way Satoru’s hands explored your body with an infuriating mix of tenderness and teasing. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your body betraying how much you needed this, how desperately you wanted to forget everything except them.

Sukuna’s lips brushed against the crown of your head, his breath warm as he leaned down slightly to murmur in your ear, “You’re always so tense. Let us look after you for once.”

His hands moved from your scalp, trailing down the sides of your body, firm yet deliberate as they worked at the tight muscles. Every touch from him was purposeful, pushing you deeper into a relaxed haze. Each knot in your muscles unravelled beneath his skilled hands, and with every stroke, you felt yourself sinking further into his warmth, your body pliant against him.

Meanwhile, Satoru’s fingers brushed along your thighs, making their way with painfully slow movements; his eyes never once leaving yours as he watched intently for your response. He leaned his head to the side, the ever-present smirk on his lips as he leaned in closer-his warm breath fanning over your cheek until a soft whisper escaped him, "Tell me, sweetheart, what do you need right now?

Your lips parted, but words seemed impossible to form. All you could manage was to breathe out shakily as you felt the overwhelming presence of both of them. Sukuna's chest rumbled in a low growl of approval as he continued his methodical ministrations, his hands slipping lower, caressing your sides and stomach, while Satoru's lips brushed up dangerously close to your ear.

“Sshh, don’t worry,” Satoru murmured, his tone soft but edged with promise. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shorts, grazing the sensitive skin beneath. “We know.”

Sukuna shifted slightly behind you, pulling you closer against his chest, his legs bracketing yours, effectively trapping you between the two of them. His large hands slid beneath your shirt, splaying across your stomach as he bent down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Just feel,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding.

His hands moved with purpose, sliding further up your torso, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to the edges of your bra. The sensation sent your heart racing, your pulse pounding in your ears as the walls of resistance inside of you crumbled. Sukuna's lips continued their lazy, possessive way down your neck while Satoru's hand slipped further beneath your shorts, his fingers ghosting over your panties to tease but not quite give you what you needed.

Sukuna's lips curled into a smirk against your skin as he felt you shudder beneath his touch. His hands slid higher, palming your breasts through the delicate fabric of your bra, before lowering it slightly, thumbs circling around your nipples and coaxing them to hardness. "You're so responsive," he purred, voice low and rumbling through your body. "So eager for our touch.

Satoru's teasing fingers continued their exploration, slipping lower to outline your slit through the dampening fabric. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" he teased, his lips brushing tantalisingly close to the corner of your mouth. "Too much to handle?

You bit your lip, a whimper escaping as Sukuna pinched your nipples roughly, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core. His teeth grazed your earlobe. "Don't hold back," he said as his other hand slid downwards,, fingers also dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. "We want to hear you.”

His touch sent shivers rippling through your body, and the heat of his breath made your pulse quicken. You felt his control, the dark possessiveness in every move he made, while Satoru’s lips lingered dangerously close, teasing you with what you craved but never quite giving enough. The tension was electric, a heady mixture of pleasure and restraint. And your body responded-arching into their touch, begging for more. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, and you were completely at their mercy.

Satoru's hand joined Sukuna's as they pushed your shorts and panties down your legs, baring you to their hungry gazes. “Fuck, look at you,” Satoru breathed, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of your glistening folds. “So wet already.”

Sukuna’s fingers trailed through your slick heat, teasing your entrance before sliding higher to circle your clit. “Is this what you need?” he purred, his touch maddeningly light. “To be touched by us?”

You couldn’t suppress the moan that spilled from your lips as your hips bucked into their touch. Satoru’s fingers joined Sukuna’s, spreading your folds wide and exposing you fully to their ministrations. “That’s it,” Satoru encouraged, his thumb swirling around your clit while Sukuna’s fingers sank deep inside you. “Let us take care of you.”

The dual sensations were overwhelming—Sukuna’s thick fingers stretching you, curling inside you, while Satoru’s skilled thumb worked your clit, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body.

Sukuna’s fingers plunged deep into your tight heat, curling and scissoring, stretching you open. The wet squelch of his digits pumping in and out of your dripping cunt filled the air, obscene and erotic. He spat into his palm, slicking his fingers further, the sound making you shudder and clench around him.

“Fuck, you’re gripping me so tightly,” Sukuna groaned, his crimson eyes blazing with lust as he drank in the sight of you writhing on his fingers. “Such a greedy little pussy, desperate to be filled.”

Satoru captured your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as Sukuna’s fingers pistoned in and out of your dripping heat. His tongue delved into your mouth, tangling with yours and dominating you completely. He nipped at your bottom lip, tugging it gently between his teeth before soothing the sting with a swipe of his tongue.

Satoru settled between your thighs, his eyes dark with longing as he took in the vision of your glistening pussy. He dips his head down, revelling in your intoxicating scent. "You look so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his hot breath tickling sensitive flesh. "I can't wait to taste you."

Without any more hesitation, Satoru dove in, his tongue breaking between your slick folds and lapping at your essence. He growled low at the taste of you, his tongue diving deeper, searching for more of what he could get, greedily wanting everything. His hands locked onto your thighs, holding them open as he continued.

Every flick, every swirl, courses fire through you, threatening to consume your very being. It was as though the world had shrunk to just him and the sensations he was creating, the movements sending ripples of pleasure coursing through you.

Sukuna watches intently, his cock straining against his pants, aching to be buried inside you. "Fuck, look at him," he growls, palming himself through the fabric. "He can't get enough of your sweet cunt."

As Satoru's tongue continued its relentless assault, licking and sucking at your sensitive flesh, you felt your mind begin to cloud with pleasure. The sensations were overwhelming; each stroke sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, building you higher and higher. When he lapped at your clit, the flat of his tongue providing broad, delicious pressure, you found yourself gasping, seeing stars with every pass. Your hands instinctively tangle in his hair, urging him on, urging him to take you higher, to push you over that delicious edge.

With every bump of his nose against the sensitive bundle of nerves, you felt your resolve slipping. All thoughts of the outside world fading away; nothing but the heat, the pressure, the sweet tension that was building with each flick of his tongue. You’re lost in the moment, teetering on the brink of something profound, desperate for more, craving the release that feels tantalisingly close yet maddeningly out of reach.

Sukuna's hand joins Satoru's, gripping your thigh firmly to hold you steady as your legs tremble from the mounting pleasure. "That's it, baby," he coaxes, his voice rough with desire, urging you to surrender. "Let him make you feel good. Let him bring you to the edge again."

Satoru intensified his efforts, his tongue plunging deep, fucking your entrance as his nose grinds against your clit. The sensation sends shockwaves through your body, and he can feel you tightening around him, your thighs trembling as he pushes you closer to another peak. He relishes the way your legs clamp around his head, holding him in place as you lose yourself in the pleasure.

With a renewed determination, Satoru flicked his tongue rapidly over your clit, his movements relentless and precise. Each stroke sending jolts of ecstasy coursing through you, pulling you closer to that sweet release.

Sukuna watched with ravenous intent, his hand moving to palm your breast, kneading the soft flesh and rolling your nipple between his fingers. "That's it, baby," he encourages, his voice low and husky, filled with lust. "Let him make you come." The vibrations of his words resonate through you, amplifying the pleasure building within.

Sukuna's eyes darkened with lust as he watched you come undone, writhing in ecstasy beneath Satoru's ministrations. He feels his own desire pulse, his cock straining against the confines of his pants, aching to be buried deep inside your heat.

With a final, hard suck on your clit, Satoru sent you spiralling over the edge once more. Your vision whites out, your back arching off the bed as the wave of ecstasy washes over you. Him, eagerly lapping up at your release, savouring every drop as his tongue took as much as he could get.

Sukuna moves you from his chest so he can kneel beside you. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he swallows cries of rapture. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours, tasting your arousal on his tongue.

As you're slowly coming down from your high, Satoru softens his touch to a gentle lapping with his tongue, savouring you with a satisfied hum. Pulling back, his face glistened with your arousal, as a triumphant grin spread across his lips at the sight of you.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful when you come," Sukuna growls against your lips, his hand sliding down your body, dipping between your thighs to feel your slick heat. "I could watch you fall apart like this for hours."

Satoru's fingers, slick with your juices, trail down to your asshole, circling the tight ring of muscle teasingly. He presses the tip of his thumb against the entrance, feeling it flutter and clench at the unfamiliar sensation. "Shh, relax," Satoru coos, his other hand stroking your inner thigh soothingly. "Let me in, baby. Let me make you feel good."

After waiting for a moment, he slowly, carefully, he slowly pushes his thumb in, feeling a slight tense in you.

Sukuna watched, his eyes dark with lust as Satoru began to prep you. He could feel his own arousal grow, his cock straining against his pants desperately now. "Look at you-you're gonna take us so well, aren't ya?" he purrs, his hand reaching down to free his cock.

Satoru's thumb slid in and out of your ass, stretching you gently. The new sensation had you gasping, your body arching into his touch. "Fuck-" he groaned, his voice thick with arousal. "Might be a bit of a stretch baby.”

Sukuna's eyes are consumed with hunger as he drinks in the sight of you, stretched and ready for them. His cock pulses in his hand, pre-cum seeping from the head as he strokes himself leisurely, working out tension. "Such a good girl, taking Satoru's thumb so well," he praises low and gravelly, rough with need. "I bet you can't wait to feel my cock splitting you open, can you?"

As Satoru added a second finger, scissoring them to stretch you further, your breath catches in your throat. "That's it, baby, relax for me," he coos sweetly, his free hand soothing along your inner thigh. "I know it's new, but you're doing so well." The dual sensations of Satoru's fingers probing you and Sukuna's heated gaze consuming you had you trembling, core clenching around nothing.The desperate need to be filled, to be completely claimed by them, pulsing through you.

To distract you, Sukuna sat up and guided your head downwards towards him, "Open up, baby," he commanded, his voice husky with lust. "Take me in your pretty mouth." Your lips parted obediently, as he slid his thick length past them, groaning at the sensation of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him. The overwhelming taste of him sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, and you couldn’t help but moan softly by the way you were pleasing him.

"Fuck, that's it," he growled, his hips rocking forward slightly, pushing more of his cock into your mouth. "Such a good girl, taking me so well." You moan around him, the vibrations adding to his pleasure and feeding your own insatiable desire.

Meanwhile, Satoru continued to work your ass with his fingers, adding a third digit to stretch you further. "Mmm, look at you, so desperate for our cocks," he purrs, watching intently as you take Sukuna deeper. The heat pooling in your belly intensifies, and the sound of his voice filled you with a mixture of excitement and need.

Sukuna's grip tightens in your hair as he guides your head, establishing a steady rhythm as he fucks your mouth. "That's it, baby, take it all," he groans, his eyes rolling in pleasure as your tongue swirls around his thick length. "You look so fucking hot with your lips wrapped around my cock."

The sensation of being so full, both in mouth and ass, sends you spiralling into a fog of ecstasy, your mind racing with the overarching pleasure and that intoxicating sense of complete and utter helplessness.

Satoru's fingers worked relentlessly, twisting and scissoring, preparing you expertly for the stretch that would be Sukuna’s cock. "Fuck, I think she's definitely ready," he growled, his fingers finally sliding free from your tight hole.

Sukuna pulled his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, smearing his pre-cum across your cheek, marking you as his. He guided you back onto his lap, his thick cock pressing against your ass. Wrapping one arm around your waist to hold you close, his free hand grips his length, positioning himself at your prepared entrance.

"Ready for me, baby?" he asked, his voice dripping with desire. "Ready to feel me split you open?" The thought sent a thrill down your spine, as you nodded eagerly, heart racing in anticipation.

As Satoru settled between your thighs, his impressive length bobs against your stomach, heightening the tension. He leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss just as Sukuna begins to push forward. The head of his cock breaches your tight ring of muscle, and a mix of pleasure and pain rushes through you as you can’t help but to gasp again.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Sukuna groans, his hips pressing forward steadily, inch by inch, until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You can hardly breathe, your body feeling deliciously stretched as he fills you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, leaving you reeling, caught between the pleasure of being claimed and the slight ache of fullness.

Satoru breaks the kiss, his dark eyes filled with lust as he takes in the sight of you impaled on Sukuna's thick cock. He strokes your cheek tenderly, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips. "You okay, baby?" he murmured, his voice low and concerned. "Tell us if it's too much." You appreciate his concern, but you can only manage a breathless nod, yearning for more.

Sukuna held you close, his chest pressed against your back, arms wrapped securely around your waist. He nuzzled into your neck, his hot breath dancing across your skin. "Just breathe, baby," he coaxes, keeping his hips still for now, giving you time to adjust to the stretch. "Fuck, you fit so nicely around me. So perfect." His body heat pressed against yours is intoxicating-a stark reminder of what the two of you share.

After a moment, Sukuna started to move, his hips rocking in shallow thrusts as he worked you open and got you used to the feel of him inside you. "That's it, good girl" he murmured, hands gripping your hips possessively. "Take my cock. Take it all." The pleasure built with each thrust, a delicious stretching sensation that has your heart racing.

Sukuna’s steady rhythm continued, his thick cock stretching you delightfully as he filled you again and again. "Shit, you're so tight," he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you back onto him, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Meanwhile, Satoru positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your slick folds. "Ready for me, baby?" he asks, his voice husky with desire. "To take both of us?" Your heart raced at the thought, and you nodded vigorously, yearning for the fullness.

With your confirmation, Satoru pushed forward, his length sliding into your heat along with Sukuna’s measured thrusts. "Oh fuck," he gasps, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he joins the rhythm. "You feel incredible." The dual penetration is overwhelming, stretching you to your limits, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that sends your mind spinning.

As they began to move together, their hips rocking in sync, you could feel the intensity building. "Fuck, baby, you're taking us so well," Sukuna growls, his fingers digging deeper into your hips. "Such a good girl, letting us fill you up like this." Your body responds eagerly to their words, the pleasure coursing through you in waves.

Satoru leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, pouring all his longing into the moment. "We want you to take care of yourself, baby," he murmurs against your mouth, concern lacing his tone. "Don't let work consume you. You're too important to us." You feel the weight of his words, knowing how much they care for you, and it infuses you with warmth.

Sukuna nods, hands roaming over your body, caressing your curves as he continues to thrust into you. "That's right, baby, you need to put yourself first." Their dual focus on your pleasure and well-being wrap around you like a blanket, encouraging yourself to let go completely.

Sukuna's and Satoru's hips began to pound deeper into you; the rhythm urgent, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The dual penetration was an overwhelming sensation-the stretch bordering on painful yet edged with undeniable pleasure that had you gasping for more. You felt your orgasm rise, a tight coil of desire building within you as they pushed you closer to the edge.

“Fuck, I can feel you tightening up," Sukuna groaned, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him. "You gonna come for us, baby? Gonna let us feel you come undone?" The need in his voice fired up something in the pit of your stomach.

“Gonna come," you gasp out strained with pleasure. "Don't stop, please- don't stop-" Your heart was racing, desperation fueling the need as Sukuna and Satoru redoubled their efforts, hips pounding into you with ruthless abandon. You felt Sukuna’s fingers find your clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive nub, while Satoru captured your lips in another searing kiss.

The combined stimulation was too much, and you came undone, crying aloud as their names both spilled from your lips. Your body convulsed as waves of bliss washed over you. Your pussy clamped down around their cocks, and a whine escaped your lips as you gushed around Satoru’s cock, the sensation overwhelming.

Sukuna and Satoru continued their merciless rhythm, their thrusts becoming erratic as they neared their own release. “Fuck, she’s milking our cocks,” Sukuna groans, fingers digging into your hips. “Gonna fill her up so good.”

Satoru leans in towards Sukuna, stealing a passionate kiss from him, their desire palpable in the air. “She’s perfect,” he murmurs against Sukuna’s mouth, his eyes dark with lust. “Takes us so well. Like she was made for this.”

The intensity of their connection sent shivers down your spine as they kiss again, their tongues tangling in a dance of raw hunger while they fuck you in tandem. “Gonna mark her inside and out,” Sukuna growls, breaking the kiss, determination etched on his features. “Make sure she knows she’s ours.”

They moved at a brutal pace, their hips slamming into you with brute force, skin slapping against skin, as they claimed you. Satoru held tightly onto your hips, bruising you, his fingers digging deeper into your flesh at every thrust. Sukuna bit down on your shoulder, teeth sinking deep into soft, supple skin, marking you for himself.

Overwhelmed with sensation, you felt your mind spiral into overstimulation. Incoherent babbles spill from your lips: a jumbled mess of moans, pleas, and garbled encouragement. You thrash your head from side to side, lost in the pleasure radiating from your core, your body no longer your own.

The two didn't relent, their thrusts becoming more erratic as they approached their peaks, focused solely on their pleasure, determined to fill you with their release. You’re aware of the urgency in their movements, and a thrill runs through you, knowing you’re the source of their desire.

With a final, powerful thrust, Sukuna and Satoru bury themselves deep inside you, their cocks pulsing as they release their hot load. Sukuna’s lips curl into a snarl, his teeth still embedded in your shoulder as he empties himself within you. “Fuck, yes!” he roars, hips jerking as he fills you with his thick cum.

Satoru threw his head back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he followed suit, his cock twitching as he pumped you full of his own release. “God, you’re perfect,” he gasps, grinding against you, ensuring every last drop stayed inside. The sensation of their warmth filling you was intoxicating, your body trembling as you felt it seeping around where their cocks were still connected to you.

They remain buried deep inside you, bodies pressed against yours as they catch their breath, savouring the aftermath of their combined pleasure. Sukuna’s teeth finally release your shoulder, leaving a mark—a symbol of his claim on you. You bask in the warmth of their presence, a blissful afterglow enveloping you as you lie there, feeling cherished and completely consumed by their desire.

“Fuck, that was incredible,” Satoru pants, resting his forehead against yours as your breathing slowly returns to normal.

The two men withdraw from you, their cocks glistening with your combined arousal. They help you stand, their arms steadying you as your legs wobble beneath you.

“Let’s clean up,” Satoru suggests, his eyes sparkling with lingering desire. “Then we can cuddle, yeah?”

Sukuna scoops you up into his strong arms, cradling you against his chest as he carries you toward the shower. “You did so well, baby,” he praises, his tone low and soothing. “You took us perfectly.”

Satoru walks beside you both, his gaze filled with warmth. “We want you to relax and let us take care of you. You deserve it,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress. “And we mean it when we say we won’t let you overwork yourself anymore.”

You nod, your body still humming from the intense encounter. Sukuna’s and Satoru’s possessive claims, their marks on you, only deepen the bond you share, leaving you feeling cherished and desired.

taglist:

@waffless-simp-blog @l0v3m3-p13as3 @hishearttohave @crybabysiri

@jays-adventure3 @nctislifue @eeveedvck @needtoloveoutloud @yowumi

@sweetpo1son @betelgeuse420 @yuhig-blog @psychedellyc @char-35

@kaeyeahsworld @sukunadckrider @veraiku

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sunflowerwinds · 6 months ago

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first night traditions | e.w

summary: back for your third summer in a row, you reconnect with your friends you hadn’t seen for a whole year, including one ellie williams. seeing her again brings back the silly crush you developed on her the first summer. you promised yourself that this summer would be different but your heart is betraying you.

pairing: ellie wiliams x fem!reader

contains: fluff, tension between ellie and abby, characters from a different au (steve & robin from stranger things), probably inaccurate depictions of summer camp because i’ve never been, maybe flirty!ellie :)

word count: 4.1K

a/n: i literally couldn’t think of any other name for extra characters. stranger things had been heavy on my mind even though 90% of the cast and production team are so insanely problematic. fuck the duffer brothers. but i am so so excited for yall to see what i have for this. a day late posting i apologize but i hope you guys enjoy <33

under the summer stars masterlist

For the past two summers, you’ve been a camp counselor at Little Explorers Summer Camp. As irritating as the summer heat made you, being able to spend a month in this little paradise with the sweetest kids in the world made the burning UV rays worth it. You pulled into the parking lot, watching your friends from previous summers lining up beside you. You sent a text to your dads to let them know you’d arrived safely at the campsite.

As you adjust your minimal amount of makeup, you hear a knock on your window causing you to jump slightly and turn down your music that you had been listening to on the 3 hour drive. You turn your head and gasp in excitement as your good friend and fellow counselor, Jesse, tugs open your door.

“Oh my god, Jesse!” You chuckle as you step out of your driver's seat to wrap your arms around his neck.

He chuckled against your temple as he wrapped his arms around you, patting your back.

“Holy shit! Have you been working out? You nearly choked me out just now.” Jesse joked as he pulled back from your embrace.

You put your arm up to flex playfully, nodding with a cheeky smirk.

“Prepping for this summer, you know?” You shrugged your shoulders before looking over his shoulder to see a familiar blonde head making her way over.

“I think we should really put that to the test,” the blonde folded her own muscular forearms over her chest.

You make your way over to her to give her a tight hug as you had missed her presence dearly. Abby had become a close friend of yours after your first summer as a counselor being a year older than you and having more experience than you did.

“Abs, I missed you,” you laugh softly as she gives you a squeeze, slightly lifting you off the ground.

“I missed you too. Ready to deal with whiny kids and minimal air conditioning for a month?” Abby grinned from ear to ear as she pulled away, patting your shoulder.

“Oh, nothing but excitement and not at all fear,” you give her a thumbs up before you turn to see Jesse opening up your trunk to grab your suitcase.

You thank him as he breezes past you with your two suitcases, watching him walk down the gravel road to the counselors cabin. Abby mumbles ‘show off’ as Jesse lunges with your suitcases on either shoulder causing you to chuckle. The sun beat down on your exposed neck, beads of sweat already trickling down your back and centering on your upper lip.

You and Abby get to talking as you shut your car door, double locking it as you had the tendency to forget to lock your car. Abby explained to you how she had been excelling as a personal trainer back home, loving the differences she makes in people's lives. You were a barista at your campus when you weren't here at the campsite.

As you both walk up to the camp main office cabin, you notice a few other familiar faces. Dina, another fierce friend of yours, and Joel, one of the only mature adults in charge, both leaning against the old wooden railing with bright smiles.

“Well, who are those sexy ladies?” Dina shouts, cupping her palms over her mouth.

The sound caused the birds in the trees to scatter, you flinching at fluttering and squawking above you. You shake your head with a blush from not only the heat but her words.

“Dina,” Joel says warningly.

“What? The kids aren’t here yet.” Dina rolled her eyes playfully before making her way towards the two of you.

She threw each of her arms around your necks to pull you both into a quick but sweet hug.

“You’re one to talk. Hello? Your hair is growing and have you been doing squats?” You check her out as you admire her figure.

“My genetics blessed me.” Dina insisted with a bright smile.

The three of you were all sharing conversation as you walked up the steps, giving Joel friendly smiles and ‘hello’s. You peeked inside the cabin to see Jesse talking to the one person you were ashamedly the most excited to see. There she stood in a black tight wife pleaser, arms crossed in front of her chest as she nodded to whatever Jesse was rambling about. She even stopped her conversation with the man to walk up to you to give you the tightest hug, her toned arms wrapping around your frame.

Ellies’ sigh brushed against your temple, like she was relieved to see you. After all these summers, no one ever exchanged numbers so you yearned for her presence at the beginning of the month of June. Your dads already gave you a million pep talks but you told them your crush on Ellie was no more. Your heart betrayed your mindset as it fluttered at her grip on you, melting into the embrace without even realizing.

That is until Jesse spoke up.

“Jesus, Ellie, you guys are going to have a whole month together.”

This caused you to flip him off behind Ellie’s back. Ellie, sadly, pulled away regardless but didn’t let Jesse’s comment go unpunished and gave him a punch to his shoulder. He simply winced and rubbed the skin, shaking his head at the auburn haired girl.

“You’re just jealous because I’m her favorite,” Ellie snipped with a confident smile.

You couldn’t even lie as it wasn’t far off. It made you over think how you act around her. Have you made it obvious these past two summers how much you favored her?

“So are you guys excited for tonight?” Dina pipped in, raising her thick eyebrows as she glanced at everyone.

Every summer for as long as this camp has been active, all of the counselors take a night to go for a late night swim and a beautiful campfire to take the time to mentally and emotionally prepare for the next month.

The children come on Monday. It was Saturday so they had all of Sunday to prepare everything for the kids.

“Oh hell yeah. Dina and I are going to sneak into the dining hall to grab everything for the s’mores. What cabin did everyone get assigned to this year?” Jesse spoke up, grabbing the clipboard with everyone’s cabin and the amount of campers everyone had.

You glance at Ellie to motion to the clipboard. She grabbed your arm to tug you towards Jesse’s figure, peaking over at the highlighted names.

“Shit, Els, our cabins are right next to each other this year. T-Rex’s and Daisy’s.” You beam at her as you run your finger down the list.

“Finally. It’s been, like, three years and we’re right next door to one another.” Ellie looked over at you with just as much excitement in her sage green eyes.

You couldn’t help but match her excitement as you recalled the past two summers where the cabins you were assigned to were tens of feet away and you weren't able to see each other until lunch time or late at night. The cabins next to each other were usually teamed up to do activities with the kids together. More time to spend with Ellie.

Platonically and BFF-like, of course.

“Wait, Joel, where’s Steve and Robin?” You question the elder man as he walked through the screen door with a large box in his arms.

“Ah, those two will be here much later.” He paused to set down the box near a desk. “They missed a few exits and called ahead to let me know.”

You nod to yourself. Steve and Robin were like ying-yang twins. The brunette pretty boy and the freckled girl were the definition of platonic soulmates. It freaked you out how well they got along.

“Well until then, let’s all unpack our shit in our counselors cabins.” Jesse spoke up, grabbing one of his suitcases.

You agree and go to grab your suitcase when Abby and Ellie speak up.

“I can help—“

“Hey, no, I got it.”

You froze at the two of them reaching for your travel cases, looking in between the two of them.

“Guys, I can carry them myself,” you shake your head with a soft laugh but neither of the girls were having it.

“It’s like a mile walk to the Daisy cabin. I’m right next door. I can help,” Ellie emphasized, looking at Abby with a tight-lipped grin.

“A mile is not that far, Ellie. I really have no problem doing it.” Abby chuckled in Ellie’s face, grabbing the handle tightly to your carry-on suitcase with your toiletries.

Dina and Jesse exchange looks with you before silently maneuvering around the three of you to carry their own suitcases to their assigned cabins. Was there a weird tension between the two or was it just you?

“Okay! How about you both carry something? There. Problem solved.” You speak up, placing a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and turning to face Abby.

The two were driving causing your shoulders to set in a hunch at the strange encounter. The girls agreed on that before leaving the main cabin to yours. Abby’s biceps flexed as she carried the heavier suitcase with ease as Ellie rolled her eyes behind her, telling you to follow behind them so you could get settled in.

Reluctant already to walk in the shaded heat, you give Joel one more forced grin. He muttered ‘good luck’ before returning to his own tasks with what you swore was a teasing grin.

The walk to the cabin wasn’t as irritating as you were expecting as Ellie and Abby were right: you would’ve been complaining a lot more if you had a suitcase in each hand along with your carry on. The heat was causing your baby hairs to stick to your forehead, huffing in annoyance but keeping your snarky words to yourself as you arrived with the two very helpful girls.

Ellie kicked open the door, a soft grunt leaving her lips as she placed the suitcase she was holding next to your counselor bed. Abby did the same, stretching her palm in and out from the tight grip. You sigh as you lean against the doorway, feeling the cool A/C hit your face.

“See? Teamwork guys,” you give them both thumbs up. They looked back at you with panting chests but smiled at your words nonetheless. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit. Thank you, Els. Thanks, Abby.”

You give the girls a side hug — Ellie’s a little tighter than the blondes. Abby gave Ellie a look once over before leaving the cabin to have you and Ellie be on your own. Once the door shut, Ellie turned to you with a soft sigh. She placed her hands on her hips as she looked around at the cutesy decor that was floral themed. You took notice of how homey the bunk-beds felt in comparison to all of the other ones.

Sure, they were just as adorable but this one felt right. Or maybe it was the fact that a certain auburn haired girl was making you feel more at ease than ever.

“This is a cute little cabin. It suits you,” Ellie walked over to trace the mural of sunflowers with the campsite name in a beautiful cursive font.

“Right? It’s perfect. I mean, the Mushroom and Grizzly cabins were adorable but this feels a lot better for some reason.” You glance over at Ellie’s inked arm, sucking in a deep breath.

Ellie hummed in agreement, looking back over at you. You fiddled with your random bracelets, giving her the least awkward smile you could muster. She reciprocated the gesture right back and tilted her head to the left.

“I should probably head over next door to get all of my shit unpacked,” Ellie huffed out, walking over to you to be merely inches away from your face.

“I thought you were just going to annoy me for a little longer but if you wanna go, Els.” You tease, scrunching your nose at her.

She scoffed and leaned in, narrowing her eyes. “You love it when I annoy you.”

And how easily you could kiss me right now if you were willing, you thought.

“I guess I do since I keep you around,” you shrug your shoulders.

Ellie’s eyes poured into yours as she took a step back. Her hand reached at one of the ends of your braids, twirling it around her pointer finger. You watched her carefully as her smile slowly grew.

“You’re not sick of me yet?” She questioned, still messing with your hair.

Not in the slightest, your brain echoes.

“We’ll see. I’ll get back to you when the month is over.” You chuckle as she releases the dutch braid from her fingertips.

Ellie muttered ‘fair enough’ under her breath as she nodded to herself, a smile creeping on her lips. You watch her take a moment to glance around the cabin once over before inching towards the door.

“I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Campfire and then late night swimming.” Ellie pointed one finger at you expectantly.

“I know, Els. I’ll see you,” you give her one more nod.

“Wear something cute for the swim,” was the last thing she said before opening and shutting the door behind her.

You watched her now more blurred figure through the screen over the windows, waiting for her to leave before letting out a long sigh you weren't aware you were holding.

It was going to be a long month.

After unpacking for what felt like centuries, you had everything in their correct places and were able to peacefully make your way to the campsite. All of the beds were made, your counselor door had your name in dry-erase along with the rules for the camp opposite of the door.

And maybe you took into consideration what Ellie said about the cute outfit and threw on a pair of brown cargo shorts and a loose white tee. You only brought three pairs of shoes so you landed on your black and white Reebok Club C’s. What’s underneath was also taken into consideration.

As you were shutting the door behind you, you turned around to see Dina standing right in front of you with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. You scoot back as she had scared you with her silent presence.

“Hey D, everything okay?” You tilt your head at her as you make your way down the steps.

“What the hell was that with Abby and Ellie earlier?” She trailed behind you, speeding up her steps to walk beside you.

You glance at Dina as you recall how intense hours before were between your other two friends; one whom you felt more deeply for.

“I really have no idea. It was… freaky but hey, I got out of carrying my luggage.” You joke and Dina nods along with a weak chuckle.

“Yeah, that is true but I don’t know. Ellie and Abby have always been neck in neck for some reason. They get along enough to be cordial but those two can get on each other’s nerves fast.” Dina explained to you.

You never really noticed it before. You assumed it was because if you weren’t trying to make sure the children were pulling or cutting each other’s hair, bullying one another or making sure their bladders were in check. Along with your flourishing and embarrassing school-girl crush on Ellie blinding you.

“Why?” You question as the two of you were approaching the campfire that was sparkling and crackling under the setting sun.

“I really have no idea, babe but what I do know is that you’re not being any less obvious with your crush on Ellie.” Dina nudged you as she jerked her head to Ellie who was watching Joel pulling at the strings of his acoustic guitar, a bottle of Coke dangling from her long fingers.

The green eyed girl had a small smile on her pink lips as she watched the father figure in her life sing lowly with the tune. Her effortless beauty to you was always captivating. Maybe Dina was right.

“My crush is extremely under control,” you lie straight through your teeth.

“Suppressing it and not confessing is not having it under control,” Dina stated with a sigh, shaking her head.

“Okay, enough talking about it. Plus, I’m trying to move on, D.” You lower your voice once you approach the group of familiar faces.

Dina pressed her lips into a thin line as she respected your wishes. What you told her was half true. Yes, you did want this crush to wither away in the wind but you didn’t actually have someone else to fixate on.

”Robbie, hey!” Dina approaches Robin, giving her a quick hug.

Robin rested her chin on her shoulder with a soft chuckle, reciprocating the motion. You make your way over to Steve who was chugging a lime Gatorade. Everyone was wearing a mix of tank top and tees with either jean or cargo shorts with athletic sneakers. Steve, being the manwhore he was, had on 5 inch inseam jean shorts. He looked like he stepped out of a 1987 slasher movie.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you tease as you stare at his head of gorgeous hair.

Steve rolled his eyes playfully before wrapping his free arm around your waist from where you were standing quickly. You hear Ellie and Joel snort at your statement as Steve shakes his head at their laughter.

“What’s up, Bubbles?” He grinned up at you.

Now the entirety of the camp erupted into giggles at his nickname for you. Last summer, the children in your cabin pranked you with the help of Jesse and Steve. The idiots got all 12 kids an extra large bubble gun and doused you in soapy bubbles right after getting out of the shower. You swore half of them just went up your nose and in your mouth. The HD photo of you is hanging in the main office for everyone to see.

“Alright, alright, enough. You guys are asses.” Ellie spoke up but she covered her mouth to hide her own laughter.

You sit down next to Abby and point across the fire at the auburn haired girl.

“You better keep one eye open at night.” You shake your head, allowing the warmth of the fire and the soft tunes of Joel’s guitar put you at ease.

Everyone else ‘ooh’d’ and ‘damn’d’ at your words as Ellie merely shook her head. She didn’t believe you were going to really do anything to her. That is until the blonde sitting next to you threw her muscular arm over your shoulders, tugging you into her side.

“I’ll help you prank Williams. Let me know before we go on our weekly trips to town.” Abby whispered into your ear which caused weird shivers to trickle down your spine.

You send her a small smile with a soft ‘thanks’.

Before you knew it, everyone was sharing how their past year has been since the previous summer. The sticks were passed around with the huge marshmellows at the end, everyone roasting them to a slight crisp. This camp had been a second home to you and these people had become like family. You found out that Robin had finally made a move on that girl she had been cruising on for the past year and had a date with her when she got back from camp which everyone drank to. You pressed your melting marshmellow in between two graham crackers, a small amount of chocolate between the two as you weren’t the biggest chocolate fanatic.

Ellie was almost pressured into playing the guitar tonight but she insisted she saved it for the kids.

Just when you were trying to get over her she said something as sweet as that. God, you hated her. After everyone had inhaled their s’mores, a series of sighs and complaints about how hot it was trickled down the line of counselors.

“Screw it. It’s time for that late night swim.” Robin stated, standing up on her high-top Converse covered feet.

Even though the sun had been set for almost two hours now, you were still warm all over. The cool lake would be heavenly. Everyone except for Joel got up from their seats on the logs, making their way over to the lake.

“Y’all be safe now. Ev’rybody knows what to do when you’re done swimming right?”

They were scattered ‘yes’s’ and ‘got it, Dad’. In a sense, Joel was like a father figure to you all since each and every one of you viewed him as such; comforting and an older man.

Once he gave you guys the ‘okay’, the group took off in a sprint to the bridge overseeing the lake. You let out a loud laugh as you watched Steve trip over his shorts as he kicked the denim off. Everyone had left their clothes and shoes on the small wooden pier, each of you plopping in one by one.

You set your shorts aside hanging on the rail along with your shirt and shoes. You tried to ignore the negative thoughts about Ellie seeing your body in just your underwear; a pair of hipster panties and a bralette because you couldn’t stand wired bras.

”Come on! The water feels amazing,” you hear Robin shout.

You saw Dina shoving Steve’s head into the water with joyous laughter. Jesse, Robin and Abby will peacefully swim around in the dark water. The only source of light being the singular lamp post at the end of the pier and the moonbeams bouncing off the still water.

Then you see a familiar head of wet auburn hair pop up at the end of the wooden ledge.

“Don’t make me get out of this water and push you in,” Ellie warned but her smile showed she was only teasing.

You flip her off before motioning for her to back away from the pier.

“Move your head, Els. I don’t wanna risk accidentally kicking you in the face when I jump in.” You give her a pointed look.

“I could get a badass black eye though,” she raised a hand to push back her wet hair out of her face, giving you more of a view of her stupidly perfect side profile.

“No, seriously. I don’t want to hurt you. Please move.”

Ellie muttered an ‘alright, sorry’ before swimming backwards so that she was now in the little group, all eyes on you. You took a few large steps back, the rough wood tickling underneath your bare feet. You heard a few shouts of encouragement come from Ellie and Abby’s mouths.

Within minutes, you were sprinting off the pier into the deep water. The borderline freezing lake engulfed your body entirely. When your head popped back up above the water, everyone was cheering you on for the jump. You were shivering a bit until Ellie came up behind you, placing her palms on either one of your shoulders. The warmth of her hands eased your goosebumps that raised on your skin.

“So you did wear something cute for tonight,” Ellie said lowly, the cockiest and most stupid grin on her face.

At first, you thought she meant the clothes that were hanging off the pier but no, she meant the underwear that was now clinging to your body. Your cheeks flushed at her words, moving your falling bra strap back onto your shoulder.

“This is what was at the top of my suitcase.” You state before splashing her face with the water, leaning in closer so that you were inches apart. “Not everything is about you, Ellie.”

Ellie spat out what water got in her mouth before shaking her head as she smacked her lips against her teeth. It shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.

“I missed you,” was all she said.

No sarcastic comment back. It sounded so genuine and maybe you felt bad for talking to her in that manner. You had to if you were ever going to move on from this fantasy world of Ellie liking you back.

“Well, I’m here now. I missed you more, Els.”

Ellie shook her head. “You can ask Joel. He’ll embarrass me with how much I was talking about how excited I was to see you again.”

Don’t, you shouted at your rapid beating heart. She misses me as a friend.

“I don’t think I have to ask. He loves embarrassing you enough on his own,” you reply with a shrug of your shoulders, kicking your legs through the thick water to keep yourself afloat.

Ellie chuckled as she agreed.

“Well, anyway, I can’t wait to have fun with you again. ”

You nod mindlessly, completely enamored with how soft and gentle her eyes looked under the minimal light as she spoke to you. You whispered, “me too.”

You were so screwed.

tag list: @abbyshands @ih8chickentenders @elliesprettygirl @justhereforinspopics @be3flow3r @hearts4joongie @plutolovesyou @bready101

#ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fic #wlw fanfic #wlw #sapphic

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depravitycentral · 9 days ago

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Yandere! Gyomei Himejima NSFW Profile

Yandere! Gyomei Himejima x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, mentions of non-con, reader is implied to be smaller than Gyomei but let's be real EVERYONE is smaller than him regardless of your weight or height, anal play/fingering (m receiving), allusions to breeding, sub-ish Gyomei, masturbation, minor objectification, Gyomei is whipped, Stockholm Syndrome, accidental exhibitionism, Gyomei is a stone cold virgin (haha I am very funny), fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 13.6K

HABITS:

Sex is not a priority for Gyomei.

Not only does his lifestyle make having a partner difficult, but even the physical act of sex is something he’s never been particularly interested in. He’s just simply not that physical of a man – affection isn’t something he’s especially comfortable with, and while he wants nothing more than to hold you and keep you in his arms forever (and he really does mean forever, something he doesn’t hesitate in reminding you), touching you isn’t at the forefront of his mind.

And this is especially true in the context of sexual intimacy – it’s one thing to crave holding your hand, but it’s another to crave having your thighs wrapped around his head. It’s one thing to desire you falling asleep with your cheek pressed against his chest, but it’s another to imagine you perched on top of him, your pretty moans of his name making his cheeks feel hot and his pulse rising dramatically.

It feels disrespectful, more than anything, to imagine you in a sexual light; he’s already painfully aware that having any sort of romantic feelings towards you is wrong, but to doom himself even further with explicit, lewd fantasies of you? Just the thought makes him bristle, unease and shame crawling up his spine because only perverted men do that, men with no morals or self-control.

And he’s able to keep this mentality for an impressively long period of time - you’d be hard pressed to catch him having any sort of risqué thoughts regarding you for much of the time his obsession festers, the furthest possible thing being imagining kissing you and gently cupping your cheeks.

(And even then, the idea of slipping his tongue into your mouth makes his cheeks feel hot, his entire body feeling like it’s on fire and making him hurriedly forget the thought, instead busying himself with imagining hugging you or pressing a quick kiss to your temple. But as time passes, if his concentration lessens for even a single moment, then he’s suddenly thinking about you putting your tongue in his mouth, and suddenly he needs to sit down, his head feeling dizzy and light and overwhelmed.)

He manages to stay within the confines of innocent fantasies of you, physically conditioning himself to halt any thoughts further than holding you by pinching himself or biting his tongue, anything at all to deter such thoughts and reprimand himself. But really, while Gyomei may be a very morally guided man with one of the gentlest hearts, he’s still a man.

And like most men, he has needs – even if he himself isn’t truly aware of them.

And so, while he forces himself to stay respectful of you during the day, he’s not so in control of his thoughts at night. It’s not as easy to stop himself from playing out vivid, pleasure-filled scenarios when he’s in the grips of slumber, his subconscious running wild and imagining how you’d feel with your hands on his body, your soft breasts pressed against his own rigid chest, your lips kissing his neck, and the wonderful warmth between your legs that he’s absolutely sure would be such a tight fit, truly stretching you out in every possible way.

(And god, while the size difference intimidates him ever so slightly because he doesn’t want to hurt you, there’s something about the fact that you’re just so damn tiny compared to him that makes something primal and territorial stir in his gut, the sense of protectiveness and ownership he feels over you only amplifying, despite his wishes. And then he’s imagining the way you’d squeal and grasp onto him as he sends rope after rope after rope of thick, white cum as deeply inside of you as he can manage, and it’s only then that Gyomei truly gives up any hope of not viewing you in a sexual light because how can he not fantasize about stuffing you so full that you’re leaking it? Leaking him?)

He’s woken up to messy sheets, a sweaty body and heavy breathing more often than he’d like to admit, the cum smeared across his softening cock and the material of the bed making him feel dirty, ashamed and disgusting.

(And when he sees you later that day, you’ll notice he’s a bit quieter than usual, not standing as close to you as he normally would, but if you bring it up he’ll only tear up a bit, telling you to disregard his strange behavior, but not really giving you a reason for it. He can’t lie to you, it feels wrong, but he can’t tell you, either, so he settles with omission, praying you won’t push the issue further.)

And so, as time passes, slowly he’ll find himself becoming a victim of the lust that begins showing itself, rearing its ugly head when he finds himself wanting you most, the bouts of loneliness he feels late at night making fighting off his desire difficult.

But even then, Gyomei has the patient of a saint and could probably stave off his urges to actually touch himself for the rest of his life. Dirty thoughts, no, but the act of actually stroking himself or acting upon those thoughts? He could, if he really tried – or at least he could without the intervention of something outside of his control, something that pushes him to finally, finally give in.

And that intervention comes one summer evening, when the wind is warm and the night air is full of liveliness. The village he’d been sent to had a night market that was bustling, hence the presence of a demon slowly picking off the shoppers every night. Finding and destroying the demon was quick and easy, and as Gyomei wandered through the market after completing his mission, a wrong turn led to a rather shocking discovery.

The woman’s voice sounds almost exactly like yours, only a bit higher, a bit more slurred, a bit sultrier as she moans presumably the name of the man pinning her against the wall. The alleyway between the two buildings in the downtown segment of the town reverberates her cries strongly, the wet sucking and kissing noises as the man worked at her neck making Gyomei freeze, embarrassment slowly creeping up his spine.

Of course, Gyomei isn’t naïve – he knows about the intimate relations between men and women, and although he has no sexual experience of his own, the heavy breathing, racing hearts and wet plap plap noises echoing down the alleyway towards him tell him more than enough about what exactly is taking place just a few meters away. He knows that this is really quite a private moment, and he knows that he should really, really move.

And yet, the similarities between your voice and the woman’s make him pause, his legs suddenly feeling like lead, even as the man’s grunts and questions of you like that, baby ring in his ears, making Gyomei’s eyebrows shoot up because oh no, what a horribly inappropriate thing to be hearing.

A particularly harsh thrust and a nearly pained groan from the man has Gyomei suddenly moving, sensing that the man is close to his end and the Hashira would prefer to give them privacy during such a moment. He tries to continue on with his evening, focusing entirely on the feeling of the beads between his palms and the bustling sounds of the town’s evening life as he heads back towards the more populated area, but the damage is already done.

The woman sounded so much like you that it haunts Gyomei that night, the sound ringing through his ears on repeat and driving him nearly mad, forcing him to head back home to his estate early. Once he’s smelling the familiar air of his home (tinged ever so slightly by your scent, you having visited earlier that day and leaving a lingering reminder of you that he immediately deeply inhales once he enters), Gyomei relaxes ever so slightly, head dipping down in shame as he notices the way his trousers are still fitting tightly, the woman’s sounds and the small, barely-there thoughts he’s trying to repress about your sounds physically affecting him.

Furrowing his brow, he resigns himself to the knowledge that he’ll likely spend the rest of the evening hard enough to be uncomfortable, instead simply sitting and resting atop his bed. He tries to distract himself as the minutes slowly tick by, thinking of training, praying, and anything else he can conjure up, brain working as frantically as possible because the idea of you moaning his name in that same wanton, needy way just absolutely refuses to leave him.

It’s infuriating, really, and it leaves Gyomei with a heavy sense of shame in his gut because it’s just so, so disrespectful to be thinking of you in such compromising, lewd ways. It’s abhorrent, truly a sign of just how weak he’s become in your hands, all without you even realizing it.

The next few hours are painful, his erection remaining prominent and sweat beading his brow, his concentration waning the longer it drags on. Every time he lets his mind wander, it’s turning back to you – he’s thinking of the delicious smell of curried meat that was coming from a market stand, and suddenly he’s imagining the way you would suck on the meat stick, and it’s not long before he’s thinking of how you’d suck on his lips, his fingers, him –

He sits up abruptly, biting his lip and forcing himself to his feet. And eventually, as Gyomei tasks himself with whatever simple task he can think of as a distraction, the concentration and resolve eventually breaks. The neatly folded pile of his clothing in the corner of the room shouldn’t make him pause as it does, but as his fingers feel over the fabric to identify each piece, he can’t help but notice the presence of something new atop the other items – something lighter and softer, a material completely unlike the rough, thick fabric of his uniform.

Curiously, he brings the material up closer to his face, leaning down slightly and inhaling, only to immediately stop, eyes going wide because fuck, this is your shawl, isn’t it?

You’d accidentally left it in his home and he’d placed it in the corner with the hopes of keeping it out of the way to preserve it and not accidentally ruin it. And yet, as he stands there, muscles tense with each inhale bringing your scent to his nose again and again, Gyomei finds that he simply can’t take it anymore. He’s so hard that it hurts, and with the smell of you filling his lungs, how can he possibly hold himself back any longer?

And so, with a heavy heart and shame creeping up his neck, Gyomei finds himself once again laying on his bed, back flat against the ground and swallowing heavily. He’s never touched himself before – maybe once as a young teenager, but he’s simply not had the time nor desire to, and he’s ashamed to admit that he’s nervous.

But then he’s imagining the way you’d moan again, your pretty voice ringing in his ears, the syllables of his name rolling off your tongue like velvet, G-yo-mei whimpered in his ear as he kneads at your breasts, thumbing at your nipples and kissing along the sensitive skin of your jaw.

And that’s all it takes for him to gently loosen the belt of his uniform trousers, his hand slightly trembling as he shuffles them down a bit, the cold air brushing against his freed cock and making him shiver slightly.

He’s slow and methodical as he very, very slowly relaxes. Guilt still consumes him, but he’s already got his pants off, cock in hand – and soon, he’s throwing caution to the wind and instead focusing on the idea of you.

He starts by imagining a simple part of your body – your hands, the ones whose fingers always brush his own, resting against his clothing as you compliment him, always feeling warm and soft and so, so very foreign. He swallows, his fist moving to grip himself at the base, the dull pleasure making his toes curl a bit.

Then he’s mentally picturing your arms, remembering the way they feel against his palms. He’s sure the skin there is soft, too, and he squeezes tighter as he thinks of the way you’d wrap them around his neck as he thrusts into you, hovering over you and trying to get as deep as he possibly can – he wants to feel every possible inch of you, to leave you stuffed full enough to be a gasping, stuttering mess.

He’s imagining your collarbone, his free hand coming up to trace his own for reference. He decides that your must be more delicate, softer, pretty and mirroring the shape of your jaw. Slowly, his hand begins moving upwards, a low, uneven breath falling from his lips because oh, this is a strange feeling.

He’s not entirely sure what breasts feel or look like, but as he licks his lips, he thinks back to all the (unpleasantly and unwilling) conversations he’s overheard from perverted older men. Soft, he thinks, and surely firm enough to grasp onto – one hand continues the slow, steady strokes as the other reaches up in front of him, shame eating away at him as he spreads his fingers, cupping and squeezing them as if your chest were right in front of him, your pretty tits bouncing, the plap plap noise of skin hitting skin filling the room.

He quietly groans your name as he continues to squeeze, head lolling back slightly against the floor, a strained look crossing his features because no, he knows the feeling that’s coming is an orgasm but dammit, he wants this to continue, even as depraved as it is. Even as disrespectful and rude – even as badly as he hopes and prays that you do this thinking of him, too.

His thumb comes up to quickly swipe at his tip, his abs clenching tightly at the sensation. He’s thinking of your stomach – it’s soft, he just knows it, the perfect thing for him to grab at, imagining the way he’d rest his head against the soft pudge of your lower tummy as he licks and sucks between your legs, feeling your thighs cage around his head, squeezing and crushing and fuck fuck fuck –

He groans your name, hips bucking up and up as he imagines what lays between those pretty thighs of yours, the exact picture a mystery but the idea making every nerve feeling like it’s on fire, white hot pleasure burning its way from the pit of his stomach through to every limb.

He’s sure fucking you would be heavenly – he’s heard women’s genitalia described as warm, wet, and tight, and the mere idea of you being that way is enough to get him gasping, his orgasm hurriedly approaching and his concentration too haphazard to use a technique to slow his breathing and delay the inevitable.

It’s futile, really, because when he imagines the way you’d clutch onto him and tell him such sweet praises, your pretty lips pressing against his desperately, whining that you want him, that you need him, it’s only natural for him to start bucking up into his hand, thrusting against his fist faster and faster and faster, the sound of his ass clapping back down against his bedsheets reverberating through the room, along with the wet slapping noise of his balls clapping against his fist as he imagines fucking into you harder, faster, more more more –

And just the idea of you moaning a breathy, adoring I love you, Gyomei is enough to get his back arching up, every muscle in his body going taut as spurt after spurt of warm, thick cum spurts from his tip, landing in rivulets across his chest, feeling hot and wet even over the fabric.

He’s panting, breathing heavily and bathing in the aftershocks of his orgasm, cock still pulsing and throbbing even as the minutes tick by, still mostly erect even as he grasps at the sheets, a fresh wave of tears beading at his eyes because what has he done?

Clarity rushes back to him and for a moment he’s in shock, the pleasure still numbing his senses. He’d masturbated to the thought of you – imagining your naked body touching his own, fantasizing about the way he’d taste you, how he’d ever so carefully ease inside you, a thumb constantly pressing against your clit to make sure everything feels as good for you as he’s sure it will feel for him.

He’s breathless, disappointed in himself, and as he silently sits up and washes himself up in the bathroom, scrubbing at the drying cum stains on his uniform, Gyomei can only sigh. It’s truly amazing what you’ve done to him – what you’ve reduced him to.

And yet, as Gyomei walks towards your home the next day with the intention of walking you to the market, he can’t help but subtly take wider steps, hoping to adjust himself as he grows hard at the mere thought of being close to you.

What have you done to him?

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your Voice

Due to his blindness, Gyomei perceives your beauty in more meaningful ways than simply your appearance.

He fell in love first with your voice, the things you say never failing to leave him in awe of your kindness and your humility. He falls in love with your laughter, loving the sound and finding himself speaking more often simply for the chance to say something that would amuse you.

(Something that both you and others will notice, if only because it’s extremely unlike Gyomei to say anything even remotely hinting at humor, and while his comments often don’t land as he intended, you’ll often times end up laughing simply because it’s so out of character and odd of him. And oh, in the moment Gyomei is basking in the sound of your laughter, committing every inhale of breath and slight snort to memory, obsessively replaying the sound over and over and over.)

And so, when he’s falling into the depths of loneliness, arousal and desperation for you becoming too difficult to handle, he’ll think of the lulling sound of your voice, the way you roll your letters and how you enunciate your words. He’s memorized your speech patterns, always trying to engage you in conversation just so that he can listen to you talk, eagerly absorbing everything you say because it all feels important, like he’d be doing you a disservice to not memorize every little quirk, mannerism and opinion you have.

And so while his love for your voice begins platonically and innocently (or at least as innocent as it can be, considering his feelings for you are anything but), Gyomei finds that over time, this sentiment begins changing.

Sure, he’s still in love with your voice, but now he can’t stop thinking about what you’d sound like when you’re out of breath, when you’re moaning, when you’re whining and keening and begging and needing him to please touch me Gyomei, I need it so bad please please please –

He’s fantasizing about what you sound like during sex long before he feels comfortable with it, his mind conjuring up all these questions and hypothetical scenarios without his control. He’s idly wondering if you’re more of a moaner, all high-pitched and girly, plentiful sounds that are expressive enough for him to very easily and quickly be able to read exactly what you’re feeling, exactly what you’re wanting. Or perhaps you’d be a little deeper, more of a groaner, more likely to let out sighs rather than whines. Or perhaps you’re just very quiet - he’d be happy with that, too, finding that the minimal sounds he does manage to get out of you are all the more rewarding, all the more precious and worthy of cherishing.

(He’s even found himself, in a moment of dissociation as he tries to sleep, mimicking what he imagines your noises would be like – he catches himself after the third moan slips out, immediately stopping himself and becoming mortified because oh god, does he now not even have autonomy and control over his own body and actions?)

And once he’s stolen you away, his hand forced by some external event, Gyomei’s love and appreciation for your voice persists. He’s still captivated by it, except now he’s paying even more attention, listening to your heartbeat and the way you breath, finding himself pressing his ear up against walls when he wants to give you space but still needs to hear you.

Once your sexual relationship begins, he’s absolutely addicted to drawing all sorts of sounds out of you – he wants to hear your every moan, your every comment, every everything because he wants to know exactly how you’re feeling and what he can do to make it better for you.

He’s always encouraging you to be louder, to be more expressive, always asking you questions during sex in attempts to get you to be more vocal. It’s selfish, sure, but with the way his cock throbs at the sound of your voice, can be really be blamed?

You just have an effect on him – one he absolutely adores, shivers running up and down his spine merely at the sound of you breathing.

His Fingers

Even outside of the bedroom, Gyomei is reliant on his fingers. It’s a necessary part of his job – wielding his axe and flail, praying, even simple day-to-day activities. They’re thick, and they’re strong – calloused and weathered with the scars of battle and a tough life, and Gyomei has remarkable dexterity and control over them.

And while he may be blind, Gyomei notices almost immediately that you seem to take a liking to them, once your fear and apprehension towards him starts to wear off, once you start to see him as less of a threat and more as a provider, a lover, even.

So while he’s never really given them much thought, there’s just something about how you react to his thick, scarred digits that makes him positively swoon with happiness – it starts off relatively platonic, with you simply touching his fingers. Letting one of his hands rest in your lap, your smaller fingers comparing sizes, tracing scars and callouses, idly toying with them as you talk about something seemingly trivial to you.

(Little to you know that Gyomei is listening with rapt attention, every one of his senses heightened because you’re touching him, and it feels so soft and sweet and adorable that he almost thinks he might combust, his cheeks feeling warm and something fluttering in his stomach.)

It’ll move to you asking him to rub your shoulders, letting out little moans at the feeling of him running thumbs against your back, digging in – carefully, of course – against the tight, sore muscles of your shoulders, all the while Gyomei has to focus on continuing his job and relaxing you, ignoring the rather insistent erection pressing heatedly against his pants as a result of your sounds, the feeling of your skin, and the proximity of your scent.

And of course, you absolutely adore his fingers in the context of sex - one of them is enough to have you pleading with him to wait, please, the stretch is too much, you need a second to adjust, immediately pausing or pulling back, listening to you and asking if you’d like him to try again, if he should go slower, if you’d like to be done and instead do something else, or nothing else at all.

(He hopes, prays, even, that you’ll let him try again, that you’ll let him sink his fingers into you, curling and rubbing and mapping out every inch of you like some sort of sacred knowledge, like knowing you inside and out is his only purpose.)

And while Gyomei has never been an especially prideful guy, he can’t help the surge of satisfaction that rolls through him at the knowledge that he’s enough for you in bed, that he’s able to satisfy you and give you what you want at any time, sometimes even with just his fingers alone.

He had no experience before his infatuation with you began - he’d never even kissed someone, let alone fingered them or been inside them, but once he realizes how badly he wants to make you come, how desperately he needs to hear up-close the way you sound as your orgasm crashes through you, he’s suddenly learning as diligently as he can, taking into consideration your every whimper, moan and gasp.

Soon, he’s able to pinpoint your spot within the first three thrusts, and once he feels the way you tighten around him, almost as if you were sucking his fingers in further, deeper, he gets to work - he’s thrusting, curling, rubbing and stretching you out just how you like it, hearing the symphony of your noises and cries, along with the lewd squelching noises of his fingers pushing and pulling out of you again and again.

And when his calloused fingertips find your already swollen and sensitive clit? Honestly it’s game over – they’re never leaving the spot, quickly learning precisely how you like to be touched, the accuracy and ease of the movements nearly unfair as you squirm and writhe and gasp out his name.

Gyomei is determined, and he will get you to come, if it’s the last thing that he does. After all, how can he call himself good enough of a lover for you if he can’t even manage to do that?

DRIVE:

Before his infatuation with you began, Gyomei’s drive was quite literally nonexistent. The thought of sex hardly ever crossed his mind, and if it did, it was immediately shoved away, pushed aside for more important matters in his everyday life. Survival, hunting demons and saving innocents took all of his free time and energy, and touching himself was both unnecessary and a stark reminder of not having a partner.

(Something that doesn’t bother him up until he meets you – because now he’s suddenly hyper aware of what couples do. He’s constantly thinking of holding your hand, brushing back your hair and cupping your cheek, softly pressing his lips to the corners of your mouth and against your jugular, holding you in his arms at night to keep you protected from both the cold and any wayward demons. And of course, the other things couples do – the things that make him feel like some hormone-driven teenage boy for being so easily flustered, for being so horribly eager to try them out with you.)

His libido was essentially non-existent, and while he’d sometimes overhear Tengen talking in shockingly explicit detail to Rengoku about his latest sexual escapades with his wives, he genuinely never felt the need to even so much as think about intimacy like that, let alone indulge in it.

But once you worm your way into his heart, suddenly the urge to be with you in an intimate manner is just too much to ignore. Of course, it’s still very gradual – it takes years of friendship in order for Gyomei to even form romantic feelings towards you in the first place, much less feelings to this degree. And even once they’re realized, it’ll take a long while before he moves past fantasizing about simply sitting by your side and slowly breathing in the air you’re exhaling and instead towards fantasizing about fucking you until you’re crying.

But as time passes and he slowly gives in more and more to his better judgement, Gyomei finds himself idly toying with the thoughts lingering at the edges of his subconscious – ideas of how you’d feel underneath him, how your lips would curve against his skin, how you’d keen and sigh his name. It becomes too hard not to imagine the way your pretty cunt would suck in his fingers, clenching down and fluttering around him as he curls and thrusts them, listening to the beating of your heart and slowly but surely finding every spot that drives you absolutely crazy.

His drive is still quite low even once he realizes his infatuation with you (simply finding that while he very, very much wants to have sex with you, it’s not something he needs on an hourly or daily basis), but the more lewd, dirty thoughts about you are most certainly still swirling in his mind.

And really, how can he be expected to not fantasize about you?

You’re so beautiful, inside and out, and Gyomei is sure that if you were to allow him to touch you in such an intimate way, he'd be in heaven. The softness of your skin, the tightness of your throat, the warmth of your pussy…

(He’s heard, once again mainly from Tengen but also from others he’s unfortunately overheard, that vaginas tend to be warm, hot even. Initially, he’d just thrown aside this information, having no use for it, but the comments flow back into his head as he tries to picture what your cunt must feel like. Warm makes sense, but then he’s thinking of how it’s supposedly so very wet, assuming the woman is aroused, and Gyomei can only gulp at the thought, imagining the wet schlock noise that would ring in his ears when he’s got you bouncing in his lap. And of course, the tightness – he’s gripping himself harder at the mere thought, gasping sharply as he brings his fist up and down, varying the strength of his grip as he imagines where you’d be tightest, how your walls would squeeze and massage at him just how he’s been told it is.)

And you make it very, very hard to keep the thoughts from entering his head once he's accepted his sexual attraction to you.

When he notices the little sound you make when you throw your arms over your head and stretch, how can he not think of the way you’d squirm and cry out when he gently, sweetly presses a finger inside of you, curling and rubbing at the spot that Tengen promises will make you feel good? And although he knows it’s probably a bit inappropriate to be thinking of you in such ways despite you not being married quite yet, he honestly can’t help it - you’re too attractive to him, you mean to much for him to not want to be with you in every possible way.

After all, Gyomei wants to do everything in his power to make you as happy as possible, and if it means burying his face between your legs for hours on end and bringing you to your high a few times, he’s already plopping down onto his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

(And even if you don’t really want it, Gyomei is still more than happy to taste you, practically begging you without saying the words, reminding you that he can make you relax, please allow me to pleasure you, it should help with your headache. And while it’s mostly for you, genuinely, there’s still a selfish part of him that’s hurriedly settling your pretty cunt over his face because he wants your thighs caging around his head, the taste and smell of you enveloping his senses, to have every ounce of your attention solely on him him him.)

He's not perpetually desperate for you in a sexual sense, but once Gyomei’s infatuation settles in for long enough, he will not turn you down should you offer.

That said, Gyomei will never force anything physical onto you in any capacity.

(And this is true In all senses – obviously he won’t force you into sex if you don’t consent, but he also won’t do things like holding your hand or calling you petnames, wanting everything in your relationship to be as reciprocated as possible. Except, of course, where your safety is concerned – if he looks the villain for kidnapping you, so be it, but at least he isn’t pinning you down and taking what he wants from you. Though with his stature, you’re aware that he could take practically anything he wants and you’d not be able to do a thing about it.)

While he isn’t especially experienced with romantic relationships, he’s more than aware that consent is everything, that each action and step should be accepted by both parties, whether it be a peck on the cheek or bending you over the nearest counter and leaving you sore.

Gyomei hates when you cry, and as the target of his obsession, this works in your favor - while you’re likely to develop sympathy and possibly even some warped sort of love for him, you won’t ever have to worry about being taken advantage of, or being put in a situation in which you’re forced to do something physical that you’re uncomfortable with. His top priority in any situation is you, and how can he justify shoving his tongue down your throat if you’re cringing, pushing at his far too muscular chest, showing obvious signs of fear?

How can he enjoy spreading your legs and running a thick finger up and down your folds when you’re shivering, whimpering with a few tears trailing down your cheeks?

He’d never forgive himself if he touched you without your consent, if he hugged or kissed or - heaven forbid, fucked - you without your explicit agreement, and this honestly ends up advantaging him in a strange way. It’s wrong and you know it, but eventually you’ll begin to grow fond of his gentle touches, his way of treating you as if you were made of glass, far too fragile and breakable for this world.

Perhaps it’s Stockholm Syndrome or the extreme isolation of only seeing one other person on a consistent basis, but eventually you’ll stop caring, justifying your growing yearning for his touch as simply a natural response to your situation. And at some point, you’ll want him to go further - no longer is a soft caress of your cheek enough; no, you want him to press his thumb against your lips, tracing the outline and pushing in just enough to pop it past your lips, settling on your tongue and telling you in that calming, deep voice of his to suck.

At some point you’ll decide that instead of him simply placing the palm of his hand on the top of your head as a sign of subtle, noninvasive affection, you’ll want him to instead have you on your knees before him, that same hand pressing your head down as you choke and gag on what you’re sure is a very, very sizeable cock. And once you voice these needs, gathering the courage and confidence that he won’t reject you (he would never, no matter how compromising or humiliating what you’re requesting of him is), Gyomei will be shocked, flustered, nervous, even.

When you shyly tug at his belt, kissing along the line of his jaw and whispering his name in a way that gets shivers erupting over his whole body, he won’t fight you. And all throughout the process he’s asking for your consent, refusing to move his hands until he gets explicit verbal confirmation that he can touch your back, your waist, your tits, your thighs, your ass, your cunt, your everything.

(Honestly, the question of are you sure, is this okay, does that feel good that constantly falls from his lips is almost too endearing, the ever-so-slight tremor in his voice giving away just how excited and nervous he is to be getting so intimate with you, as if the very, very insistent bulge pressing against your ass isn’t enough to tell by.)

It’s in moments where he’s completely vulnerable with you that the Stockholm Syndrome really accelerates: he’s slowly drawing circles against your clit and listening as if his life depends on it to the changes in your breathing, your moans, feeling the way your hips and thighs twitch at certain stimulation. It’s sweet, really, how attentive Gyomei is and just how anal he is about making sure that you’re comfortable with everything, and with each soft moan of his name and each orgasm he coaxes out of you, Gyomei can only thank whatever is listening, savoring the taste of you like a starving man and trying to memorize every inch of your body.

(It’s in the times of post-orgasmic bliss that he finds himself incredibly grateful for having prioritized your comfort and not pushed you into anything too early – sure, covering his mouth with the section of his happi you’d touched early in the day and absolutely yanking at his cock, his fist moving so quickly it’s nearly a blur wasn’t ideal, but it lead to this. All those evenings spent desperately trying to orgasm to release some of the built up sexual frustration and to minimize your chances of seeing the rather massive tent in his pants were worth it – anything is worth it to have you cuddled up in his arms, cheek smoothed against his bare chest, your soft breaths puffing against his nipple and making him lick his lips. Anything at all.)

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Oral Fixation

Specifically, Gyomei absolutely adores going down on you.

In general, he’s a giver in bed. He’s not a selfish lover by any means – in fact, he’s almost infuriatingly generous, prioritizing your pleasure over yours no matter the situation to the point that it’s almost irritating. And because he’s so cautious and aware that he’s significantly larger than you and thus has a cock proportionate to his height and stature, he knows that he needs to take things slow and spend a very, very long time preparing your body to take him.

And Gyomei’s personal preference is to use his tongue on you – to spread your legs and leave you squirming against him, the taste of you invading every one of his senses and only driving him to lick with more fervor, to suckle harder, to give you more more more because he needs you to be ready and able to take his cock or he thinks he might go insane.

He likes the intimacy of using his tongue on you – it means you trust him, he thinks, and there’s something so wonderful about the lewdness and vulgarity of it all. Having his mouth on the most sensitive, personal place on your body, all while your thighs cage his head in, your hips twitching and your fingers tunneling through his hair. He loves the way he feels so close to you – like he’s experiencing the most real, raw part of you that he can, the feeling almost as euphoric and intimate as having his cock nestled inside of you, warm and snug and full.

He loves the smell of you – it’s musky and earthy, something that makes his eyes roll to the back of his head and something resembling a groan slip from him at a mere whiff of between your legs, often leading to his hips bucking on their own, unconsciously moving to come closer to the source of your scent, his body physically unable to stop itself from trying to rut and fuck into you.

(Something that embarrasses Gyomei slightly, if only because he finds it rather pathetic just how poor his body-control becomes around you, ashamed at his inability to stop himself from responding so carnally, so perversely.)

He’ll often lean down and press his face against the pretty hair covering your cunt, nose-deep into it as he inhales, pants growing tight embarrassingly fast because oh fuck, he’s practically Pavolv’d himself into orgasming the moment he smells you, arousal blooming through him even though he hasn’t touched himself even the slightest.

And he’s not shy to tell you that you smell good, either – he’s always praising you in bed, but he’ll murmur to you that you smell divine, the compliment sounding throatly and groaned, and he’ll always finish it off by pressing soft, adoring kisses around the junctures of your thighs and pelvis, making sure every inch of space has been touched by his lips.

(And he gets very, very into it, too – he’s groaning lightly against your skin, letting his lips linger, letting his tongue come out to rub at the skin of your inner thigh, sucking slightly and letting go with a wet plop sound that makes your face feel hot and your stomach twist. It’s often at this point that he’ll wind up unconsciously very slowly grinding against whatever object is available, often the blankets you’re resting on and even sometimes your leg when he’s feeling especially needy, often when he’s returned from a prolonged mission. On those rare occasions, you may even feel something wet and very, very warm seep against your leg, hot cum already staining your skin and only serving as an omen for what Gyomei wants to do to you.)

He’ll trail kisses up to your clit, little kitten licks while he listens and gauges your reactions, trying to discover if you’re more in the mood for circles, figure eights, stripes, or – when a strange, unusual bout of possessiveness surges through him – the kanji for his own name.

(He’ll always grip onto you harder when he does this, still trying to be mindful of his strength, but with enough force to leave you completely immobile, utterly subject to whatever he wants to do to your body – a fact that both frightens him and excites some small, carnal part of him.)

He’ll station a thumb to work the pattern against you, rhythmic and steady, while his tongue darts out to dig between your folds, pressing shallowly into you while you twitch and whine, his thumb insistent against you. He’ll take his time to explore you, leaving no area untouched, and he’ll pull back with a few hearty sucks against your labia, licking his lips as he presses kisses against your stomach.

How would you like to come, my love? He’ll ask between kisses, the emphasis on the word ‘my’ subtle but still there. If you want to come solely from his tongue licking and sucking at you, he’ll be more than happy to – he’ll shift his positioning, laying on his back with you perched on his face, keeping his tongue stationary and instead moving you to the rhythm he knows you like, just so that all you have to do is sit there and take it, leaving your body completely in his control.

He’ll bring you to your high solely through sucking at your clit if you’d prefer, puckering his lips and keeping the pressure up, running his tongue over the sensitive skin and keeping them attached even when you buck up, your hips moving uncontrollably as you near your orgasm.

He’ll do both, if you want, able to multi-task and keep everything exactly as you like it, desperation motivating him because he needs to feel you come for him, to feel the way you muscles clench and spasm around him, to hear your pretty cries and feel your fingers dig against his scalp, pulling and yanking and making him groan lowly at the pain-twinged pleasure.

He just loves to please you really, and he can spend hours between your legs – genuinely, and without a single complaint. He’ll bring you a single orgasm or twenty, whatever you want of him, all you have to do is sweetly ask, to say his name and say please Gyomei, need another one, you feel so good and I want to come for you again all the while you grind against his tongue.

(If you really want to get him going, do all that and grab his free hand, slipping a finger or two into your mouth and sucking yourself, making sure it’s wet and sloppy and full of drool. He’ll pause for a mere second, before swallowing hard and immediately diving into your cunt, motivated because oh god, you never use your mouth on him – his own instigated rule, simply because he’s terrified he’ll choke you and kill you should he lose control and thrust down your throat. But this? Oh, perhaps he does have a penchant for your mouth, too, the oral fixation extending both ways and leaving him dizzy and light headed because even your fucking mouth is perfect, all warm and wet and smooth, making his cock leak so much precum that he idly wonders if he’s undergoing a single long, drawn-out orgasm because of the sheer volume.)

And Gyomei will be eager for the entire time he’s between your legs, keen to take you in any position – you laying down, from the back, you sitting on his face, anything that feels right – in any setting. He just loves the way you taste – how it’s so earthy, heavy against his tongue, natural in a way that makes him desperate for more, finding himself craving the taste at the most inopportune of times.

(Thank god for the looseness of the uniform pants – you can notice the tent in them, of course, with just how often he’s sporting an erection in your presence, but this way his fellow slayers won’t notice – which is good, because as your sexual relationship progresses, it’s a near daily basis that a passing thought of your taste hits him, literally making him salivate and having to leave the room briefly.)

He just really, really likes using his mouth on you, and he won’t hesitate to offer himself up at even the slightest change of you wanting it. Even the slightest chance.

Praise

He’s not terribly vocal in bed, but when he speaks he makes it count.

His natural sounds during sex are much more controlled – he’s always letting out these long, shaky exhales, his lips parted slightly and his eyebrows drawing tight because fuck you feel good. He’ll groan your name and often hiss lightly through his teeth, soft little ah-ah sounds falling from his lips when you’re sucking on him just right and riding him with the rhythm and angle he likes best.

And yet, he was very, very quiet at the beginning of your sexual relationship – only breathing heavily and giving you a slurred, rushed I’m coming right before so much cum is stuffed up into your cunt that you’re literally leaking around his still-hard cock inside of you. He was quiet mostly because he didn’t want to turn you off by letting out some of the more intense noises, groans that start low but turn into this higher, whinier sound, or chants and mantras of your name like a prayer when he’s gently rolling his hips into you, every muscle in his body clenching in an effort to restrain himself and not absolutely pound into you like he so desperately wants to.

He didn’t want to scare you or make you uncomfortable, but as he grows more familiar with your body and your sexual preferences, Gyomei finds that complimenting you seems to fall naturally off his tongue.

He already thinks of you as perfection in human form, idolizing you to such a degree that he knows it’s unhealthy but he can’t find it in himself to stop. He’s never seen your face, of course, but he’s sure that you’re beautiful, fingers having groped and traced out every feature of your face, every slope and curve of your body (even the inside of your body, too, of course) more times than he can count.

And before he knows it, all sorts of praises are filling the wet, thick air between you as he fucks into you – his voice is still low and timbered, the vibrations making shivers shoot up your spine and your nipples harden up, his strained praise of you take me so well, love only serving to get you going faster, grinding and scooping your hips more aggressively and feeling the way he sucks in a sharp breath and tenses up underneath you.

A lot of his praises focus largely on your performance during sex – always complimenting you for the way you feel, telling you that you feel like heaven and that you’re perfect and that you’re everything I’ve been dreaming of quietly under his breath the first time he carefully, almost fearfully cups your tits in his hands, squeezing gently and waiting pointedly for your response, forcing himself to not cave and squeeze as hard as he can.

He’s complimenting parts of your body, too – telling you that your skin is so soft, that your lips taste so good, that your ass is so warm and perfect to grip onto while you’re riding him. Of course, not in such vulgar terms – he only gets crude when he’s right on the brink of orgasming, some of his more lewd, risque thoughts coming to life because fuck fuck fuck it’s like you’re milking him for everything he’s worth, cunt sucking him in so tightly that he thinks he might die and oh god oh god oh god –

Even then, it’s still nothing terrible, but he’ll switch out some of the sweeter terms for cruder ones, calling it a cunt rather than your warmth or something equally virginal, really.

(Which makes sense, considering that it’s extremely obvious the first time that you touch him that he is in fact a virgin, his startled little gasps at every touch even against his torso leaving some sort of power trip rushing straight to your head because while he’s this hulking, huge, powerful man, you have him crumbling with a simple brush of your index finger, every muscle in his body flexing so hard it nearly hurts when you lick at his tip for the first time.)

Instead of asking you with a rather polite please go faster, angel when he needs you to bounce on him at a quicker pace, he’s throwing his head back a bit, Adam’s apple bobbing as he clutches onto you, losing his composure and telling you that you feel so – so good, oh keep going, don’t stop, you’re making me so close to coming – please tell me I can finish inside of you…

Which brings up another major aspect of his praise kink – Gyomei always seems to be asking for permission, even borderline begging at times. It doesn’t read as begging often, though, simply because he's still the one in control most of the time, even if you’re on top or dictating the pace. But he’ll always slip in a please, or bite his lip and wait for you to give him permission, managing to stave off his orgasm long enough to hear you moan out a yes, please come inside me, and suddenly he’s calling you beautiful and clutching onto you as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear, cum spraying into you and leaving you squirming because you can feel just how hot it is and just how much there is.

During his orgasms he’s particularly vocal, not to an exaggerated degree but always babbling in that deep, groaning voice that gets high at the very end about how you’re perfect, how you take him so well, how you’re made for him, how he loves you he loves you he loves you he loves you –

He genuinely finds you to be perfect, and every sexual encounter with him will leave you uncomfortably aware that he feels this way. He’s always complimenting you, and due to his lack of vision, the compliments are often extremely specific and leave you more puzzled than flattered.

He’s telling you that you’re the perfect size for him (this is often size closer to his orgasm, when he’s marveling and unable to fathom just how fucking tight you are around him), that you smell like how he’s always imagined (followed with a loud, audible sniff that’s trailed off with a moan, his voice higher than normal), that you’re so soft and squishy (this is always punctuated by particularly hard thrusts if he’s fucking you, and he’ll bury his face against the warm skin of your neck, hands groping at any fatty, squishy part of your body in a frenzy that’s rather uncharacteristic of him).

He just finds that while he’s normally able to stay composed and can be judicious about just how much he reveals he knows about you when he’s not touching you, the moment your skin comes into contact with his, a bit of his judgements flies out the door, instead focusing on the way you feel, how he’s been dreaming about this moment for months, guiltily wringing his cock dry at the mere prospect of getting to touch your used clothing, of getting to hear you breathing in his ear while he thumbs at his tip and lightly squeezes his balls.

You’re just so, so damn good – and in those moments where his admiration and obsession with become dangerously on display, you’ll feel equal parts disturbed and flattered, because really isn’t it just so damn pathetic that you’re able to turn such a large, important, strong man into a groaning mess that’s holding onto you for dear life with just a grind of your hips and a few well-timed, sultry phrases in his ear? Pathetic, sure, but also erotic, sexy in a way that scares even you for feeling it.

But Gyomei can’t seem to care, unable to stop himself form laying on the praise thick, not even conscious that he’s doing it – you just affect him that much.

Orgasm Control

But specifically, Gyomei wants you to control his orgasms.

Most of the time, Gyomei assumes a more dominant role in bed. He doesn’t really adhere to the dominant and submissive roles per say, but it’s rather because he holds so much power over you outside of the bedroom that it naturally follows between the sheets. You’re his captive, after all, and while you’ve slowly come around to him, perhaps even returning his feelings in some sort of deranged way, Gyomei is still undeniably the one in charge in your relationship.

So while he’s not shoving your face into the mattress and mounting you like some sort of animal staking his claim on you (though if you begged him hard enough, he might consider maybe doing something along the lines, but significantly toned down and with a constant question of is this alright, my love asked before each and every motion), between his size and his aura you’ll often find at the start of your sexual relationship that you’re following his lead, doing what he wants to do.

And this bothers Gyomei – he doesn’t like the fact that you still feel a shadow of fear for him, obvious in the way that you look to him for guidance and approval during sex, even though you have at least as much experience as him if not more. It makes him uncomfortable and reminds him of the reality of your situation, something he wants to escape from when he’s being intimate with you.

He wants to think of you as wanting to be naked in his arms and kissing him rather than you having talked yourself into it simply because he’s the only human being you regularly have contact with now. And to remedy this, Gyomei does his best to let you dictate the timing of his orgasms. He has impeccable self-restraint and control, and while it’s not necessarily easy, he’s pretty adept at holding off his orgasms.

(It’s a lot easier to come on command, of course, simply because all he needs to do is focus on the feel of you under his palms and around his tongue or cock, listening to your heartbeat and the sound of your voice and he’s already halfway there, only needing a single, final push to get him groaning and letting go.)

And while he doesn’t explicitly say it at the start, you’ll notice pretty quickly that he only lets himself go when you beg him to, only warning you with a clipped I’m close to coming as a prompt for you to tell him to either hold it in or release.

You’ll soon figure it out, and Gyomei absolutely loves the power structure that forms when you finally understand what he’s trying to do. There’s something thrilling about letting go of his control and handing it totally over to you. No longer does he have to be the strongest, wisest, or most senior – no, now he can just be Gyomei, just be your lover, the man unequivocally whipped and subject to your beck and call.

It’s freeing, almost, and he looks forward to seeing what mood you’ll be in each time your clothing gets peeled off. He’s not sure which mood he likes most – there’s something arousing about the way that you tease him, denying him his orgasm over and over and over, leaving him pent up but still attentive to your words, following your instructions and holding himself back, even when you’re doing things you know drive him crazy.

(Like bouncing on him just right, the feeling of your ass clapping against his thighs making his mouth feel dry. Or when he’s hovering over you, fucking into you slowly and deeply, and you go and wrap a leg around him, drawing him closer, begging him to finish inside but stopping him just moments before his release, telling him nuh-uh, not yet, you only get to come inside me when you’ve earned it. Or one of the rare times you’ve convinced him to let you take him in your mouth, teasing him with tracing his tip over your lips and collarbone, alternating between suckling at his tip and pushing your breasts together to rub up and down his length, narrating to him the whole time exactly what you’re doing. They all make his face go slightly red, his fists clenching up and the muscles in his arms bulging, veins standing out and leaving you to drool slightly, entranced that this behemoth of a man is listening to your words like gospel, forcing himself to be good and do exactly as you say. Even if you’re not an especially dominant person, there’s still something that’ll get you going about that, some sort of power trip that leaves you feeling light headed in the best possible way.)

The edging only serves to make his orgasm stronger, to make everything feel more intense, his eventual orgasm ending up being way more powerful, arcs of cum shooting from his swollen, red tip with such intensity that it feels almost painful against your skin.

(And he’ll finish wherever you tell him to, too – his preference is always inside of you simply because it feels the most intimate and it satisfies some small possessive side of him, but Gyomei will do whatever you want – you want him to finish on your chest? He’s painting your tits in white, droplets dripping from your nipples and drying in thick smears against your skin. Grab his hand and let his fingers feel over the mess he's made and he’ll lowly gasp, a smaller, less impressive spurt landing freshly on your chest, the feeling of his cum on you enough to get the last, sad little bit out. He’ll finish on your back, your ass, your stomach, your thighs, anything you want – just say the word and he’ll do it, eager to please you and make you enjoy your time with him, even if it means leaving his seed somewhere other than where it really belongs – inside you.)

But of course, Gyomei also loves the other side of you dictating his orgasms – that is, similarly to his ability to hold himself off, his refractory period is short. If you were to take advantage of that, you'll see him at the closest to pussydrunk you’ll ever get – make him come in quick succession, your hand steady and quick as you jerk him off, and you’ll see how the first orgasm is the familiar heavy load, the second is slightly reduced, the third even more so, and by the fifth orgasm he’s shooting blanks, abs clenching and unclenching so quickly that you almost feel bad for him, but the sounds he’s letting out are filthy. His normally low and masculine voice rises with each one, until he’s letting out something that isn’t quite a whimper but isn’t not one, either.

He loves the way you bleed him dry, your voice soothing and alluring even as you push him to the edge of his comfort zone, tears pooling in his eyes as you tell him to keep going Gyomei, I know you can give me another one, please give me another one paired with a wet, needy kiss to his lips.

You unlock all sorts of kinks and sides to him that he wasn’t aware even existed, and he’ll let you play with him as much as you please, eagerly setting down onto your shared bed, spreading his legs and helping guide you to your place in his lap, already rock hard below you.

He’s too big and powerful to be called pathetic, but he sure toes the line when you’re touching him, when you’re driving him absolutely insane.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Size Kink

Though, only in very specific circumstances. By and large, Gyomei is painfully aware of just how extreme the size difference between the two of you is – and regardless of your height or weight, you are smaller than him. Small enough to make him worry constantly about accidentally hurting you, terrified that he’ll somehow crush you or bruise you or simply be too much for you. It’s his number one concern when doing anything sexual with you, worrying that even a single finger slipping into your cunt will make you squirm with more than just pleasure.

But by the same token, there’s something so inexplicably right about just how much bigger he is than you. It’s shameful, he thinks, and it makes him feel like some sort of freak for being attracted to the size difference, but it makes him feel stronger, more masculine, feeling like a true protector and provider for you because he can encompass your whole body simply by hovering over you.

And he’s reminded of it at every turn – his hand against your waist covers half the area, the skin soft and plush and warm underneath him, but he can feel the curve of your hip, the expanse of his hand just that much on your body. He can feel the way your fingers struggle to fully grab around his cock, fingertips barely touching even as you squeeze him tightly, and while it seems to frustrate you, Gyomei can only headily swallow, cock twitching in your hands because god, there’s no way that will fit inside of you, will it?

And yet as he swallows, oh so slowly eases you down as you straddle him, going slow and giving you ample breaks to adjust to his size, there’s something about the way he can feel you tremble, your cunt stretching to accommodate him that makes him fist at the sheets, struggling to maintain his composure.

(The warmth and wetness of your walls certainly don’t help his predicament, absolutely soaked and sensitive from the some three orgasms he’d already pulled from you in preparation.)

He’s cautious and terrified that he’ll hurt you, of course, and his concern for you weighs out over any sort of sexual pleasure he gets from the size difference, but it’s still present at the back of his mind, toying with him and begging him to just shove himself inside of you, to take a quick, harsh pace like his body is dying to, to use you as some sort of living cocksleeve for him to fuck into and fill up. He won’t ever do that, of course, but it’s one of the main motivations behind his deep, far-reaching thrusts, enjoying the way you gasp and claw at him when he’s nudged up right against your cervix, pressing and filling you to the point of you almost feeling that you’re being split in half.

He preps you well enough that you’re always able to just barely take him, too worried that he’ll hurt you otherwise, but he still can’t deny the allure of just how different your bodies are.

(And this extends beyond the bedroom, too – he loves the way you fit against his side when you cuddle against him, or how he has to lean down for you to press kisses against his face - something he absolutely adores and very does not mind leaning over for.)

It’s just sweet in his opinion, and while it gets blood rushing south more easily than he’d care to imagine, it ultimately only serves as another reminder that he needs to keep you safe and protected, that you’re too weak to survive in the real world without his aid.

(And, of course, some selfish part of him is satisfied with the knowledge that now that you’ve had him, you’d never be satisfied with another man’s cock, never able to feel the level of stretch and fullness that he can give you. Not that he’d allow you the opportunity to try with another man – he’s not terribly possessive, but the thought of someone else touching you, fucking you, is enough to get his nostrils flaring, rage simmering through him because he absolutely does not want anyone else getting even remotely close to you in that capacity.)

Thigh Riding

Gyomei lives to please you in bed. Every sexual encounter with him sees your pleasure as the absolute priority – he’ll have pulled some three orgasms from you before he even thinks about reaching one himself, before he even really pays attention to the fact that he’s so hard he’s soaked the front of his pants through.

And he’s not picky about how to get you there – namely, Gyomei doesn’t mind being quite literally used for your pleasure, his every limb and feature available for your use. He’ll let you do whatever you want to him; bending him into all sorts of positions, giving him directions for how to finger your pretty cunt, laying down and letting you grind and hump at his face like he’s a mere pillow.

He loves to be of service to you, and he finds that the best sex is where he’s nothing more than a toy for you, at least at the beginning – hence, Gyomei grows to absolutely love having you ride his thigh. He’s huge, a hulking man with muscles so thick and defined that you’ll quite literally be drooling the first time you see them, sucking in a sharp breath when you touch him for the first time.

(And he’ll feel a mixture of pride and bashfulness grow inside him when he hears your little gasp – he’s overjoyed that you seem to like what you’re seeing and feeling, some small, anxious part of him having been terrified that you’d be repulsed by his size and the scars littering his body, that you’d find him to be too muscular, too intimidating. And you can tell, too, because the way that he visibly becomes harder afterward the gasp is a clear indication that you’re doing something to him, your mere presence and breathing getting him hard as a rock.)

He likes the physicality of the act – he keeps you steady on his thigh, the muscle large enough for you to straddle, and the feeling of your hands gripping onto his chest for support makes him oddly giddy.

The first time it happens, Gyomei honestly isn’t sure what you’re trying to do - when you straddle his thigh rather than his waist, his lips part slightly, confusion evident across his features. But as your hips start moving, your exposed, wet cunt sliding against the toned, broad expanse of his thigh again and again, he’s suddenly grasping onto our hips, helping guide you up and down the length of his thigh, occasionally tensing his muscles in order to hear you gasp and cry out his name.

He wants to do everything he can to service you, to help you reach that wonderful high, and the only thing that’s rolling through his mind at that moment is how perfect you feel, the way his name slips from your lips as your body shakes in pleasure, how he can feel the pulses and clenches of your cunt even as you pick up the pace.

And when he snakes a hand down to thumb against your clit, he nearly comes from the sound that escapes you - it’s so wanton, so lewd and dirty but so fucking hot, and suddenly all he can think of is the repeated phrase of make her come, make her come, a mixture of desperation and determination leaving him frantically rubbing at your clit.

Gyomei will offer his thigh to you whenever you feel like riding it, and once you’ve finished, your body exhausted and laying down next to him, he’ll sneakily rub along the area where your slick has rubbed off onto his thigh, bringing his fingers up for a taste and groaning as your flavor coats his tongue, free hand reaching down to palm at himself, squeezing at his balls and shuddering. Gyomei can and will do anything to make you feel good in the bedroom, and he’ll never turn down the opportunity to see you fall apart on his thighs.

(And if he’s feeling particularly needy or knows he’s leaving for a long mission away from you, he won’t bother to wash off his legs afterwards – he'll let your slick dry against his skin, wearing it like a sort of badge of honor, feeling connected to you as he slaughters demons even while you’re miles and miles away from him. It’s dirty, sinful, even, but it’s enough to keep him satisfied, to let him bear to be away from you while he does his duty. And yes, he’s running his fingers along the area occasionally and sniffing, his knees getting ever so slightly weak because the smell has the taste of you flooding his mouth, the sound of your moans ringing in his ears, even phantom touches of yours erupting all over his body.)

BIGGEST FANTASY:

As a general rule, Gyomei prioritizes your pleasure in the bedroom. He’s not a particularly sexual man, and so he views intimacy as being all about making sure that you enjoy it to the fullest extent possible – in many ways, he sees himself as merely a tool for you to use to reach your high.

(And if he happens to orgasm – which he always does when it’s you touching him – then great, but it’s not a necessity.)

And this is largely true – he really does want you to enjoy fucking him, and he’ll go to extremes just to make sure everything is as perfect as possible.

But Gyomei is only human, and as such he harbors a few fantasies that are entirely selfish, entirely about him – one of which develops by complete accident. He’s so terrified to hurt you that he’s constantly looking for ways to satisfy you without using his cock, because although he loves the feeling of your lips, fingers, or cunt wrapped around him (to the point that just thinking about it makes his composure falter ever so slightly, his jaw going a bit slack and his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly), he’s always concerned that it’ll be too big and you could hurt yourself if he fucks you with it.

And so, during the rare times he’d get off before he begins any semblance of a sexual relationship with you, Gyomei’s exploring alternative options.

And while it isn’t necessarily a way to help you get off, per se, he’d been idly gripping himself while thinking one evening, biting his lip and feeling awfully shameful of his actions but unable to bring himself to stop. He’d reached down further, sucking in a sharp breath as he carefully and delicately cupped his balls, idly squeezing and rolling them between his fingers.

But he must’ve been too deeply in thought, distracted by the idea of you, that his hand continued down, reaching and pressing against his skin, until a sudden, odd sensation made him pause, eyes going wide. He’s never even considered anything involving either your ass or his own, but at the single press of his fingers against his hole, the strange, fluttery feeling in his chest makes him feel a bit light-headed.

It’s dirty, taboo, and he hadn’t explored the thought any further that night simply because he was too embarrassed to have found it pleasurable, but it sticks around in the peripheral of his mind. There’s this ever-present question of what if, a sort of far-off fantasy that he toys with every once in a while, when he’s particularly needy and missing the feeling of your skin on his or your attention on him.

And the idea of you taking your time, worshipping his body and guiding him through a new, pleasurable experience makes more than just his cock swell, because there’s something so loving and calming about it, and letting himself be vulnerable in that way is something he hasn’t done for years – something he can’t afford to do, no matter how wonderful it sounds.

Of course he’d never, ever bring up the idea to you for two reasons – it bothers him a bit that you wouldn’t be getting any direct pleasure or stimulation out of it, and he’s too embarrassed to admit that he wants you to touch his ass, afraid that you’ll find him disgusting or flatly reject the idea. He'll keep quiet about it, and if you were to bring it up, you’ll see the way he subtly perks up, body tensing as he swallows, telling you that you don’t have to, I understand that you may not wish to.

But if you’re insistent, and you see the way it affects him, Gyomei will be putty in your hands – you can do anything to his ass, and he’ll take it so well, the only sign that you’re affecting him being the small, barely-there moans leaving his lips, a slight flush across his cheeks, and the copious, copious amounts of precum oozing from his swollen tip.

So really, play around – he’ll never request it, but it’ll only make his feelings for you grow stronger, his desperation and dependence on you growing because only you can make him feel this way.

“Gyomei, I want to try something new tonight.” You start, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. He’s got you straddled in his lap, large hands resting on your hips and his back leaning against the near wall. At your words, he nods, encouraging you to continue.

“Anything you wish, angel.” His voice is low, deep, excited in a way that you can ever so slightly pick up on.

You take a deep breath, leaning up to whisper into his ear as you brace yourself on his chest. “Gyomei, I want to touch you. All of you.”

His hands lightly squeeze at your sides. “You have all of me, you know this. I am all yours, and you can do whatever you please with me.”

You laugh slightly and it makes Gyomei shiver, his grip tightening just enough to make you uncomfortable, but you don’t say anything. “No, I want to touch you where I haven’t before – somewhere new.”

You reach back and grab one of his hands, guiding it to press against your clothed ass, his index fingers landing on the indent between your cheeks.

Gyomei gulps. He’s silent for a moment, mind racing, but the semi-hardness underneath you throbs at your words, and you only smile as he shakily exhales, murmuring an “Are you sure?”

Carefully taking his earlobe between your teeth, you grind down onto him, your thumb finding his nipple over the fabric of his top. Humming, you let go of his skin with a kiss, telling him, “Yes, please… lay on your front for me, please Gyomei.”

Which leads to where you are now, with your big, strong captor laying on his front, arms kept tucked at his sides. This angle makes his muscles stand out, his sculpted back and the definition of his thighs nearly making you drool. And of course, the tan skin of his ass, muscular enough to make you grab handfuls of each cheek and spread them apart to get a good look at him. Coarse black hairs dabble over his skin, and Gyomei finds himself oddly self-conscious as he feels you staring. He’s laying with his head to the side, his breathing still a little quick, and he waits with baited breath for you to do something, to say something, anything.

What he isn’t prepared for, though, is to feel your soft lips press against the sensitive skin of his cheeks, making him jerk ever so slightly and stiffen up under your touch. Your thumb rubs soothing circles against his skin as you kiss a trail down from his tailbone to his thigh, the hardness of his muscles never ceasing as you continue.

“Gyomei,” you whisper against his skin, “relax for me, please. I want to take care of you.”

He hesitates, but forces himself to be less tense, only slightly shifting under the weight of your lips. You smile at that, planting another kiss. “So good f’me.”

That gets something small and uncharacteristically high sounding from low in his throat, but you don’t comment on it.

Your thumb comes down to press softly against his puckered hole, and Gyomei sharply inhales at the sensation, immediately clenching and shaking slightly at the feeling of you increasing the pressure, just idly rubbing circles over it.

The way you retract your hand without warning almost makes Gyomei grunt, confusion and disappointement contorting his face, but then your thumb is returning, something warm and sticky coating your thumn, and suddenly you’re pushing in, further and further until you break past the tight ring of muscle, Gyomei’s breath goes ragged because it feels strange –

It feels good, though, and as you settle in to your first knuckle, his toes curl slightly, the sensation odd but not unpleasant.

“How does it feel, Gyo?” You ask, pressing more kisses along his back and squeezing at his ass. He can’t quite answer, too overwhelmed by the feeling of your thumb inside him. Smiling, you lightly nibble at the skin of his lower back. “Know what I’m using for lube?”

He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to get used to the feeling.

Pressing your thumb just a hair further, you smile at the way he jolts, thigh muscles tensing hard enough to see visible definition. “It’s me, seeing you like this is making me wet enough that I’m using my own slick to prep you…”

That gets Gyomei groaning, the sound muffled by the pillow underneath him, but audible nonetheless. His cock’s painfully hard, pressed up against his stomach, and he can feel the wet pool of precum already staining his skin and the fabric of the sheets below him.

Humming, you press another inch or so in, curling your finger slightly and listening the way his breathing changes, trying to identify what he likes most.

“So pretty, Gyomei,” you start, and his eyes snap open when he hears the familiar sound of your fingers sinking into yourself, the small sigh you make only making him clench around your thumb and his cock throb underneath him.

Your thumb’s all the way in now, and as you slowly, shallowly begin thrusting it, you time it with your own pumps inside. “I’m fucking myself at the same pace as you, that way it’s like we’re together.”

Your voice makes him melt, and as you angle your thumb just right, a gasp tunnels its way through him, ripping him apart and making his hips jerk forward, humping at the sheets below him.

You smile. “There, huh?”

And immediately you’re abusing the spot, pressing tightly against it and rubbing it in a hithering motion, Gyomei’s hips twitching wildly at the feeling. He’s chanting your name under his breath as the pleasure begins mounting, eyes shut again and eyebrows drawn tight.

He’s embarrassed, truly, because even something as small as your thumb has him falling apart like this, desperation lacing his movements because this is building up to be a different feeling from his normal orgasms, something entirely different that makes his whole body tense up and stutter, a muffled groan sound, “It-It’s coming – “

And suddenly cum is caked along his front, your eyes watching transfixed as the visible portion of his balls clench and spasm wildly, his ass flexing and the tightness nearly forcing your thumb out. Instead, you keep pressing against his prostate, watching the way he clutches onto the fabric below him, grip so strong that the fabric rips under him, his strength uncontrollable as his orgasm rocks him.

It’s easily a twenty second affair, cum pouring out of him and visibly seeping into the fabric surrounding him, making you lick your lips because oh, isn’t this precious? Your big, sweet, strong Gyomei falling apart with your thumb up his ass, something like whimpers falling from his lips because you’re still rubbing inside him, reaching deeper with every curl and leaving his back to tense up, shoulder blades visible as he fights off the acute feeling overstimulation.

You only press a kiss to the back of his head, pausing your movements for a single moment as you murmur his name in his ear, telling him with a near purr, “You’ll give me another one, right? I know you can do it, my pretty boy.”

And the way he shudders, hand snapping out to grab onto your thigh as he nods tells you enough, as does his muffled, choked “y-yes”.

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